Jukebox--Well, I tried to avoid doing that two-month anniversary thing again...Caliente--Yes! I am alive! Lady MR1--I made it before March 15th! Woohoo! Wishful Thinking2--I am Christy S! You killed my muse! Prepare to die! Manual Impact--I've been in hiding...as for Remy and Scott...why don't you see for yourself? T.--Great ta see ya again!xXrogue-demonXx--I'm rather fond of Davis and Heather, and I really don't know why. But I know that not everybody is so happy with the Aussies, so I try to breathe as much character into them as possible. giveGodtheglory--No fear! Though it has endured the valley of the shadow of death, this fic continues to persevere.
Disclaimer: Please note that this is fanfiction, not ownerfiction.
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CHAPTER 19: BUT I ALSO LOVE YOU
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Franklin groggily opened his eyes to dawn's light streaming through the window. He did his best to ignore the light and smashed his face back into his pillow. Except it wasn't a pillow; it was an arm. Remy's arm to be precise. He looked at the sleeping grown-up. The Cajun had one arm tucked under his head beneath his pillow and the other extended with the hand dangling off the edge of the bed. It was the dangling one that Franklin had been resting his head on. Between the two of them was the book that Remy had been reading the night before.
Lucky for Franklin, Remy didn't know the Grown-up Reading Rule: one chapter, and then make the child go to bed. So Remy had read on and on, his voice slowing with each page. Eventually, he had stopped reading in mid-sentence, and Franklin realized that his guardian had fallen asleep. Too comfortable to move from the warm mattress, Franklin had closed the book and reached up with his small arm to turn off the lamp. Thus had the two mutants retired for the night.
Now, he was awake and wondering if he should awaken his grown-up friend, or simply allow him to sleep. He then heard a gentle whisper through a grating next to the bed.
"Remy? Sugah, ya there?"
"Hey, Rogue!"
"Franklin?"
"Remy's asleep, should I wake him up?"
"Naw, that's okay, hun. What're ya doin' in Remy's room?"
"He was readin' ta me, an' we both fell asleep."
He heard a soft laugh from beyond the wall. Her next words were in a secretive voice.
"So Sugah, can ya answer me a question or two 'bout what the Cajun looks like when he's sleepin'?"
It didn't really make any sense to the boy why anyone would want to know such insignificant details, but he found himself complying.
"Sure."
"Does he drool on his pillow?"
"Lemme check."
He examined the pillow.
"Yup."
He heard an amused giggle from her direction, and a slow grown from his guardian.
"Dat was one piece of info she didn' need t'know, pup."
"You're awake!"
"Seems so."
Rogue spoke again.
"Plan ta join us for mornin' lessons, Remy?"
" 'Fraid I can't, chere. Accordin' t'Cyke, I'm de current field leader, so I gotta put a report t'gether. An' 'm afraid y'can't eit'er, since Jean's tellin' me in m'head dat she want's t'talk t'ya."
"This early?"
"Seems so."
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She stood on the beach. The waves were crashing along the sandy shores of Surfer's Paradise. Davey was far away, surfing a wave. Coming towards her from the distance was a flying saucer. It landed in front her, with a door opening. Sage was inside, extending her hand. As she stepped on, Davis waved from the shore, telling her to remember to buy him a T-shirt when she came back. She stepped into the flying saucer, only to find herself in Madripoor.
She looked down to discover that she didn't have a stitch of clothing on. She extended her wings to cover herself, only to be met with mocking laughter from Lady Mastermind. Eventually, Lady Mastermind wasn't laughing at her anymore, but at Remy. Gambit was bound in chains on a cold stone floor. She reached to save him, but he only fell further away--back into the clutches of alien invaders. She turned around, and there was Sage--in a lifeguard's outfit. She flew at the human computer in a rage, but the woman shapeshifted, and became her father--her dead, biological father. She screamed in fright, backing away into a dark corner.
She looked up at the sound of a soothing voice. It was Neal's voice, and he was talking about his dead girlfriend, Elizabeth. She listened with rapt attention, till he turned to her and looked into her eyes and told her she was beautiful. She grew furious and clawed at him. Bleeding from her swipe, he told her she was beautiful again. She clawed at him again, screaming as she did so. He kept telling her she was beautiful, and she continued to claw at him, till she could feel his life-force slipping away with each movement of her arm till finally...
"NO!"
Heather Cammeron cried out into the darkness, recovering from her nightmare. She covered her face with her hands as she listened to the thump of running feet outside her door. She blinked as the door opened to reveal a bit of morning's light. Neal blocked the rest of it.
"Heather? Are you alright? I heard a shout...!"
She looked up. He was fine. He was breathing heavily, and there were no claw marks on his tanned skin. And he was as concerned about her as ever. Realizing his importance, she began to cry. He sat down next to her, and embraced her.
"It's okay; it's okay. Shhhh...you're fine now. It was only a dream; it's okay."
"No, it's not." She muttered into his chest. She then pulled away, "I've been abusing you."
"What?" he looked at her incredulously.
"I have," She admitted, "I've been ignoring you, been mean to you, an' 'ave been an over-all blighter to yeh. An' yeh've been so supportive.." She let out a small sob, "An then I saw you die! An' it was all my fault...!"
He gently cradled her head with his hand.
"No one's dead, Heather. We can make this work; you'll see."
"I...I hope so. 'Cause y'know what, Neal?" She looked up at him.
"What?"
"I want to."
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Rogue didn't want to do it, but she approached Jean in one of the secluded chambers.
"Ya wanted ta talk ta me, Jeanie?"
"Yes. This is about Franklin...and his coming to the institute."
Rogue frowned.
"Ah thought we had an understandin' about this."
"We did: We don't talk about it; Franklin is here, and since I'm here too, there's no fuss about it. But there's a problem: I don't want to stay, and I expect to take Franklin with me when I leave."
"Is this b'cause of Scott, Jean? 'Cause Ah thought ya were stronger than that."
"This is not about Scott or me, this is about Franklin."
"You think Ah can't take care of him?"
"He's not your son, Rogue."
The moment Jean said it, she regretted it. Rogue's eyes began to tear up, and her face read as though she had just been slapped. 'Where did that come from?' Jean wondered to herself. 'How could I say something so cruel?' The thought was interrupted by Rogue's voice. The woman sounded considerably subdued.
"Ya right Jean. He's not my son." She seemed to choke on her own voice. "But, he's not yours either. He's Remy's boy. And Remy will ultimately decide where Franklin will go, an' you'll have no say in it. There are many kids at that institute, but Franklin's not gonna be among 'em. An' personally," She sobbed, "Ah think this recruitment thing is just your way of dealin' with the fact that you an' Scott have no children of your own!"
With the southern woman's last words resounding in her ears, Jean was barely aware of the sound of Rogue's feet stomping away and slamming the chamber door.
How dare she? How dare she even think such a thing, much less say it! How could she communicate something so thoughtless, so insensitive...so mean...so true. She rubbed her weary temples. Jean Grey-Summers was the den-mother of the X-men and always had been. As a teenage girl, she had fallen deeply in love with the X-men field leader, Scott Summers, and had often fantasized about what it would be like to become the mother of his sons and daughters. As time passed, and they were eventually married, Scott began to share her dream. Together, they began to await a moment in which they could retire and start a family. The more often they encountered their offspring from alternate time-lines, the more certain the couple became about their own future together. When it seemed as though Scott had died at the hands of Apocalypse, Jean's dreams had been brutally shattered. Only upon learning he was alive again, did she allow the age-old hopes to resurface. But it was not meant to be, because Scott had changed.
Apocalypse had shown Scott things that a man as hopeful as Cyclops should not have to see. It caused Scott to wonder about the darker side of his own nature. He began contemplating fears and doubts that--previously--he would have dismissed as soon as they came. Jean was patient at first. He had suffered, and needed time to recover. But he was colder now--abusively so. She had asked him to confide in her, and he had responded that if she wanted to know what he was thinking, she should just read his mind. Her Scott would never have said such a thing. Soon, it started going both ways: She also distanced herself from him. Before she knew it, the mansion was buzzing gossip about a tryst between Mr. Summers and Ms. Frost.
How could children come from such a marriage?
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'How could Ah say somethin' like that?
Rogue pondered this as entered the game room of the Guild's safehouse.
"Trust me, mon ami, you ain't got de skills t'survive unless you can hack a computer."
Rogue shook herself free from her maudlin musings to look at the scene before her. Scott Summers was grinding his teeth in frustration at Emil Lapin's antics. Both men had taken it upon themselves to be Franklin's instructors for the day. Unfortunately, both men had very different ideas of how they should go about it.
Scott was by-the-book as always. He wanted to work with the curriculum that Rogue had written out that included standard reading, writing, arithmetic, geography, and history. These were the topics in which children were educated to receive a better understanding of the world.
Emil, however, found those subjects to be incredibly boring. So he had turned the math lesson into a fencing lesson, the English lesson into a lock-picking lesson, the geography lesson into a hot-wiring lesson, and was now trying to turn the history discussion into a computer-hacking lecture. Franklin just laughed at the friction between the two adults.
"Tha hen has returned ta the coop, fellas. No need to keep sittin' on this weary egg any more."
Relieved to end the argument, Scott stood up from his chair and headed toward the training facility. Lapin, however, didn't take they hint.
"Emil, if ya'd be so kind, Ah'd like to talk to Franklin alone fer a while please."
"Oh? Well, see y'aroun', chere. Um, do y'know where dat dark-haired lady-friend o' yours be stayin?"
"Third room ta the left in the guest wing. But watch the flirtin', sugah. Ya aggravate her, and you'll be introduced ta her mean left-hook."
"I be on m'guard den, and merci!" With a cheerful wave, he headed for the guest room.
"Hey, honey."
Rogue sat down on the couch next to Franklin. She patted the spot next to her, and he hopped on. She looked at him for a minute. 'He's not your son, Rogue' But she wanted him to be. She wished she could claim some relation to that fluffy blonde hair, those baby-blue eyes, that way he childishly kicked his legs back and forth while waiting for her to say something. She remembered how scared he'd been of his first thunderstorm under her roof. She recalled how he had come running to her bedroom and snuggled under the covers, using her arm as his personal pillow. But he wasn't hers.
"Franklin, do...do ya ever miss ya momma?"
"Yeah. Sometimes..."
He seemed to look at her more carefully after she lowered her eyes, turning her head away. A small light of comprehension seemed to glow on his childish countenance.
"...but I also love you."
She looked up, the adult taking comfort from the love of a child.
"Could Ah trouble you for a hug right now, darlin'?"
The boy placed his arms around her neck.
"Yeah. You could."
And she gently squeezed him back.
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The ropes were squeezing far too tight. But other than that, all was right in the world of Teri Baltimore. She was tied to a chair, being held captive by a demented egomaniac bent on world-domination, and putting up with the most ridiculous conversations possible from her jailers, but despite all this, she was floating on clouds.
Lucas Bishop was innocent.
Her less-than-genius guards had been the ones to reveal this to her. Their names were Stan and Greg Mengochauzchras†. They were former Latverian fugitives who had once worked with Remy LeBeau. They had become mercenaries and had been assigned to bring back Gambit's head on a platter. But it hadn't worked out, and before they knew it, they were working for LeBeau instead of against him. They became the official bodyguards of his friend, Sekmet O'Connoway, and when helping the Cajun on a time-traveling venture.‡ But in the process, they had been trapped in a reality warp from which LeBeau's girlfriend, Rogue, had managed to rescue them. Since then, they had lost their 'fugitive-hood' as they called it, and had rejoined Doom's ranks.
All this they had revealed in a conversation after a few beers and a card game. During the telling of the tale, they had complained about Gambit's morality, and how it had inhibited them when working with him. So Gambit was innocent after all, and by default, Bishop.
Teri relaxed in her chair. Now if only she had a means of escape...
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Davis and Ororo sat in the throne room, enjoying a pleasant breakfast. The kitchen and dining rooms were both too crowded with thieves and assassins for both their tastes. The throne room, however, was a magestic chamber which was hardly used anymore. At least since Gambit had left to return to the X-men.
Ororo sat back after enjoying her meal. She gently sipped her coffee, and placed the cup next to her plate. On it, were the remains of eggs, hash-browns, and an english muffin. Across from it, was Davis' soggy Coco Puffs remains in a bowl. The contrasting elegance and childishness showed clearly on their table as it showed in the appearance of the regal woman and the young man sitting across from her. And somehowe, it seemed to balance.
With a little coaxing, Storm had managed to convince her Australian companion to reveal a little more of his past. Specifically, some of his past relationships. Nothing really serious; mostly crushes. He had humiliated himself in order to get their attention.
"So what about you, Ororo? Got any former boyfriends waitin' 'round the corner to come and strangle me?"
"Well, you know about Kahn..."
Davis made face. "Yuck."
She smiled.
"Victor Von Doom also expressed an interest in me one time when the X-men were battling him."
He raised an eyebrow.
"Really? Was there anyone you liked who wasn't a power-crazed ding-bat?"
Her smile turned bittersweet.
"Yes. Yes, there was. His name was Forge."
Slipstream's face turned serious at the ominous note in her voice.
"Yeh loved him?"
"I would be his wife right now if he hadn't called off our marriage."
Davis grew concerned.
"What happened?"
"I held my freedom in very high regard back then. He'd asked me to marry him, and I had asked for time to decide. Joining with him would have meant leaving the X-men, or at least giving up leadership of the team. I needed time to let it sink in. Forge took my hesitation as a bad sign and became doubtful of my feelings for him. Mere minutes before I planned to find him and tell him my answer, he came to me and told me the engagement was off. I never got a chance to tell him that my answer was yes."
There were slight tears in her eyes as she recounted the memory. Davis reached for her hand.
"He was an bloody idiot for doin' that to you."
She smiled through her tears.
"I am glad you think so."
He lightly brushed her cheek with his hand.
"No, Ororo. I know so."
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Record File: Engage. Dis be Gambit. I'd give de standard report first, but nothing's changed much about de situation, and Cyclops did a pretty good job of describin' it de first time. An' speakin of Cyclops...Scott, y'dead wrong homme. I do read de back entries, an' you an' Remy 're gonna have a loooonnngg talk when I find you.
In fact, y'can count on it.
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Author's Notes: I'm not going to say I was late this time, because I never set a specific date for when I would next post a chapter. As far as I'm concerned, I was just taking my time. After all, it's not like you guys had to wait another two months, right? However, you guys do have my appologies for the little marked notes I had last chapter that I never explained. If you go back to chapt. 18, you'll see had some mini-thoughts to mention about Belladonna and the Mengo bros: †I can't expect everyone to be as deeply delved into the comics as I can, so for anyone who wonders, Belladonna made the decision to stop hating Rogue in Gambit ish #19 with the thought: "--can't blame her now, wantin' a taste of somethin' normal for herself." ‡Major points to anyone avid enough to tell me where I'm paraphrasing this from!
As for the little marks this chapter...
†Any old fans of the Gambit comic out there?
‡This same venture was the reason the Avengers called on Remy to help investigate the time-displacement of the Fantastic Four when they handed Franklin over to him. Isn't it nice how I manage to tie this all together?
Also, I'd love it if people would tell me what they think about the illustrations I did for this story. The link to them is posted on my little author section. If people could tell me what scenes they'd like to see me draw a picture of from the story, that'd be great.
PS.Anyone still interested in signing up for my mailing list?
