Disclaimer: I own…eh…ah-ha! I own this paperclip! Mwho-ho-ha-ha! The world shall soon be mine! For I will…eh…prick you with my paperclip! (?) Maybe I should stick to fishing. * the voices in my head nod in approval*.
Ima Super Mute Ant Yes! I knew ole Bishie would be a prize winner! More Bishop on the way.
Ishandahalf Keep on feeding me golden stars! I'm hungry and it's almost Christmas! And, hey, Bishop may be a bad mean killer machine, but he's a well-mannered bad mean killer machine.
Caliente Gracias! Muchas gracias! *Gloat*
NotNeeded Exactly! You and I, we have an understanding. He should have been main-character. He should have been a star. He should have his own show. And a movie. Definitely a movie too. Because giving him the great lead role of 'name-appearing-on-computer-screen-somewhere-in-X2' is not enough. No sirrey.
Anime Addicted One does what one can.
Lonewolf44 Tazo calm tea, he? Maybe I should…
A.M.bookworm247 I know, I don't know what to make of this story either. Which might not be so good, because I'm writing it…Anyway…I'm the one who should be honored, there are actually people who read and like this. Wow.
A/N Sorry I took a bit long. I am recovering from a severe Soul Calibur II addiction. Who am I kidding, recovering? I'm gonna need rehab for this.
7. One day we will all look back on this and run into a parked car.
Fissie
He lost track of the traitor again. Then he saw Xavier's institute. He remembered that place from old pictures, from before it was smashed in ruins. Should he enter and talk to them? Tell them they are in danger? Explain? It might be the only option left. Time was running short. So he pressed the bell.
''Yes?'' The voice sounded a bit odd.
''Good morning. My name is Bishop. I wish to talk to you. It is quite urgent.''
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Bishop was lead to Xavier's study, to be allowed to tell his story. They didn't know Remy was hiding in the in ventilation system hearing every word. Out of sight, out of telepathic reach, out of Logan's nose. Perfect.
''My name is Bishop. I have traveled back in time from the future. In my time, some hundred years from now, live for mutants in unbearable. We are hunted down, locked away, used, killed. We are marked from birth.'' He passed a hand to his forehead. ''I joined a group of mutants who fight for mutant-rights and freedom.'' He took a small pause, not knowing exactly how to continue. These were the X-men. Children, really. And yet they held the future of mutantkind.
''There is a theory that all that has happened, all the horror, would have been prevented if the X-men had not died.'' They looked at him, startled. ''Yes, you will all die in the near future, betrayed, killed, murdered. Your deaths are the end of all hope for mutant kind. Because of it, generations of mutants will suffer oppression, hate, imprisonment and death.''
''All because we're dead?'' Evan asked.
''Yes. Your role in this might not be so evident now. But in the coming few weeks you will play an enormous role in the fight for mutant rights. Naturally, no one can ever be one hundred percent certain that your lives are the cause of all that has happened, but evident is that without you there simply is no hope. I must try and save the future.''
''How do you plan on doing that?'' Xavier asked. Mentally he asked Logan if he smelled the man lying. Logan shook his head. It confirmed what he had sensed, no matter how odd it sounded, the man was telling the truth.
''Right before I came here, we found a recording that implied that you were betrayed and the traitor was one of your own. It can only be the one man who survived. He has betrayed and killed you all.''
''That's why you were chasing Gambit this morning?'' Rogue asked.
''He is the one. The Witness as he calls himself in my time, as he was the last one to see the X-men alive. LeBeau. I saw him in the park and recognized him instantly. It is him. He must be killed before the damage is done.''
''No one is going to kill no one around here, bub.'' Logan's claws were itching.
''You do not understand. He has...he will betray and kill you. It is his live or your lives and the lives of millions of mutants all over the planet.''
''What exactly will we do that makes you so sure it's our deaths that will cause your future to be so messed up?''
''The president will try and pass a mutant-registration law some day soon. Your efforts to solve matters peacefully and prevent the law from passing and to subdue the mutant-hate that follows will prove vital to peace between humans and mutants. When you died, a war rose. Mutants led by Magneto against humans and a worldwide army. A bloody war that went on for decades.'' He paused for a slight moment. ''In the end mutants lost. Ever since than we have been living either poverty and imprisonment. Not many can hide from mutant-hunters. The circumstances are unbearable. This is why LeBeau must die.''
Remy suddenly appeared from behind the door. He had heard enough. Bishop noticed and turned around. Instantly the gun was pointed to him again.
''You end here!''
''No I won'.'' He really didn't feel as self-assured as he sounded, but he was with his team right now, so the psycho couldn't harm him, could he. Besides no way they were going to believe him. ~Right?~
''I would not be so sure of myself, traitor!'' He heard that distinct almost inaudible clicking noise again. He flinched.
''Don'!'' Giving in that you are scared and really do not want to die never was a very stylish strategy to stop anyone from killing you, but since he was still not dead, it had to be an effective one.
''Give me one reason not to blast you away right now.''
''Cos y'r better den me an' don' believe in physical violence?'' ~Good thinkin' LeBeau. Beg t'de psychotic screwball, why don' y'.~
''Think again.''
''Dis is insane! Y'wan kill me f'r something I ain't done.''
''Yet.''
''An' won'. Y'r delirious. I don' kill.''
''You do. You have. And you will.'' Not much point in discussing that.
''Bishop, maybe we should talk this over. I am sure an other solution can be found. Maybe...''
''An oder solution?''
''Yes, Gambit. This problem...''
'' What problem? Dis psychotic maniac is lyin'. From de future? Come on, who believes dat, ain? I ain' gon' kill no one. Dere is no problem except you lettin' a maniac in y'r house.''
''Remy, we must consider...''
''I don' believe it. Y'believe him?''
''Gambit, we must bear in mind...''
''Y'believe him! How you know he ain' lyin'? It could be a trick.''
''I do not wish to believe him, but...''
''But what? I tell y' I won', he tell y' I will. It be his word 'gainst mine.''
''Yes, but he...'' The professor expected to be interrupted again, but Remy remained silent.
''I do not sense him lying. I am not saying it is true, I am merely saying that he believes it is true. We must consider...''
'' If dis guy came here tellin' Scott was de traitor, you'd be all over him tellin' him he was wrong.'' Gambit said matter-of-factly.
''That's because we know Scott.'' Jean said almost whispering, but Remy heard her so quickly she added ''I mean, you've been here for weeks and all we know of you is that you're name is Remy. We know nothing about you. We've known Bishop for five minutes and already we know more of him than we know of you.''
''Oui, you know he's lyin'. An' I don think w'can trust him.''
''Of course not. You're a thief. You do not trust anyone nor does anyone trust you.''
''Thief maybe, but I ain' no Assassin!''
''Thief?'' Scott asked.
''He never mentioned it? How typical.'' Bishop said in disgust.
''You're a thief?'' Scott repeated.
''You hav' no right to come here, claimin' y'know all 'bout me, an' put de rest o' de team 'gainst me.''
''You're a thief?!'' Scott said louder.
''No! Yes. Was.'' Remy was confused. He had no time explaining the whole thief-business. Didn't anyone else see that was not the core to the problem here.
''You never told us.'' This was the moment he was waiting for. Gambit exposed as a thief. He knew there was something fishy about the Cajun, and it wasn't just his aftershave.
''Y'never asked.''
''A thief talking about how someone else is lying. Typical. So, thief, how do we know _your _ intents here are pure? How do we know your not just here to...'' Scott accused.
''Trust m', 'f I wanted t'rob y', you'd notice. Cos I'd be gone wid de antique candles an' Matisse from Xavier's study, de china vase from de hall an' de medical equipment o' McCoy 'fore y'could say de words: I don' trust y'.'' Remy glared at Scott. This was not a conversation he wanted to have right now. Or ever, as a matter of fact.
''LeBeau must die. There is no discussion possible on the matter.''
That brought the Cajun back to the conversation and the gun pointed in his direction.
''So when's all dis gon' happen den?''
''Any time soon.''
''Well, can' y'just lock me away f'r a while den?''
''I know of no place that could keep you, thief.''
Remy actually felt a bit proud of the statement. It was true. No one could keep him anywhere for too long. But gathering his thoughts to the current matter, this was not working, he had to think of other ways to postpone his execution. An idea popped into his head.
''What if dis is an alternate past and y'r not from de right future?'' ~I should really stop watchin' science fiction series.~
''It was well calculated.'' He stepped closer and once again, that all too familiar gun was pointed at the all too familiar place on his forehead causing the all too familiar fear on the Cajun.
''Bishop.'' Xavier interrupted. ''Please give me some time to think about what you have just told me. You may be blinded by your rage towards Gambit, but our eyes are still open. Give me time to think about alternatives. I will not have you killing one of my students.''
''Think all you want. But I am not waiting too long. As soon as I think anything is going to happen, I will not think twice and take out this traitor.''
''Dis is stupid.''
''Gambit, calm down. Bishop, please be patient. Matters must be discussed further before anything else. Please leave.'' Everyone with the exception of Storm, Hank and Logan left the study.
''What do you think, professor?'' Storm asked.
''I find it hard to believe. Remy has done nothing to show other intents than genuine ones. Why would he betray us?''
''It strikes me how little we know of him.''
''Yes, true. And he is impossible to read, he has strong mental shields.''
''Maybe he has a secret agenda.''
''Hank, everyone here could have a secret agenda.''
''Charles, a few weeks back he took us to dinner under a false name, Damien Black.''
''Yes. We've never really addressed that matter.'' Xavier wondered why he let such a thing slip at the time.
''We have never addressed any matter with him. We have let everything slip. That day, a few men stared at Kurt and me. The didn't look like mutant friendly people. Remy said he'd talk to them, like he knew them. Why would he be connected to such people?''
''Perhaps we should talk to him privately.''
''He leaves late at night and doesn't come back until early in the morning.'' Logan said. He heard the Cajun leave the grounds almost every night. He kid was quiet and sneaky but he couldn't hide from Logan sensitive hearing
''Yes. I have let a lot of matters slip.''
They continued talking.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Remy didn't know what to do, Bishop and that annoying gun were stalking him wherever he went. He went to the kitchen, Bishop was already there, He went to the bathroom, Bishop would wait outside, He went to the rec. room, Bishop would follow.
''Can y' stop it, already.''
''Stop what?''
''Stalkin' me.''
''No.''
''Fine!'' He sat down on a chair and took a game of cards. He counted them, making sure there were fifty-two cards. He shuffled them and began to lay them down on the floor. Bishop saw it. ~I remember that game.~
''What y'lookin' at?''
''That game. I know it.''
''How nice f'r y'.'' Remy said annoyed.
''Can I join you?'' What was he thinking? He couldn't let his guard slip. LeBeau had to die. Why was he being such a fool?
''Non. It's a solitaire. But you probably know dat already, non?''
''I know it can be played alone, but it can also be played together.''
''Y' know how t'play it?''
''Yes. When played with two players it becomes an tactical and logical game, with a certain resemblance to chess.''
''And y'know how t'play it?''
''Yes.''
''Den let's.''
He gathered the cards and shuffled them again. He gave half the pack to Bishop. The game began.
And continued for hours.
''F'r a stuck up maniacal psychopath, y' play a damn good game o'cards.''
''I have played this game since I was a child.''
''Dat's nice. But no matter, I beat y'anyway.'' He lay down his last card.
''Game over. Y'r dead.''
''You win.''
'''Course. Now you tell me, who taught you dis game?''
''It has been so long ago, I do not even remember.''
''You lie. I see de way you play it. I know dat strategy. Now tell me, who thaught you.''
Bishop sighed. This was going to be harder than he thought. Why didn't he just pull the trigger? What was holding him back? Against a good portion of his conscious he decided to tell Gambit.
''You did.''
''Say what?''
''We played it endlessly.''
''I know y' in de future?''
''Yes.''
''But dats a hundred years from now, ain' I supposed t'be dead by den?''
''Why you still live I do not know, you are not very talkative. It is just one of the mysteries that shall never be solved. But you are alive, very much so.''
''I'm still gon' be alive hundreds of years in de future?'' A small smile appeared on the Cajun's face.
''Not if I can help it.'' Bishop said, more to remind himself of his mission than for any other reason.
''An' y knew me? Personally?''
''You are my father.'' Bishop's job had just been made a hundred times more difficult, all because of himself. Because he just had to tell LeBeau. He felt like a fool.
Meanwhile the Cajun was speechless...for about five seconds.
''I feel like I'm stuck in a sick version o' Star Wars. I am your fader?''
''Yes.''
''I don' see de resemblance.''
''You found my sister and me on the streets and you took us in.''
A thought hit Remy. ''Ah-ha! See, I'm a nice guy. I saved y'r lives. No need t'kill me. I'm de good guy.'' He put on his best smile.
''I do not believe you have ever cared for neither my sister nor me. I still do not know why you took us in.''
''I got a hunch.'' Remy remembered his own father, doing the same thing.
''Tell me.''
''Nah.''
''Anyway, you never cared. You were always too busy with business.'' This was true. Bishop wanted it to be true. He needed it to be true, therefore it was true.
''What business?'' Remy was ever curious.
''Criminal affairs of all sorts. Paintings, jewelry, antiques, nothing is save from you. Humans are not as bad off as mutants and a lot of them have a lot of money. You betray your kind by selling your wares to them.''
''Let m' get dis straight. I get t'be more den a hundred years old an' I can still get anythin' I wan' an' kick everyone's ass? I'm likin' de future already.''
''Do you only hear what you want to hear? I am trying to tell you that you will be the one of the most cruel and horrid persons in the world. You only took us in to use our powers for your own good. We were only usable tools in your mansion.''
'''M gon' live in a mansion. Sweet.''
''You care not for the living or for the dead! You have no respect for anything. You find the deaths of all those mutants laughable! You tell horrible facts as if they were past-time stories. You don't care! You steal and sell and no one can find or trace you. While everyone is dying trying to save mutant kind all you do is sit and stare at that stupid Renoir.''
''M'favorite painter.'' Tears could swell in his eyes. "Which paintin'?''
''Nothing has changed. You still do not care about anything.'' Bishop felt beaten. His father was a cruel man, and he often wondered if that had always been so. Now it appeared his suspicions were right. LeBeau was an egoistic self-centered arrogant man.
Suddenly Remy became more serious, he straightened his face. ''I picked y'off de streets, non?''
''Yes.''
''Den won' killin' me reduce de chance o' you survivin'?''
''If not for you, we most likely would have died that very night you found us.''
''Den if y'kill me now, I won' be 'round in de future, so I won' find y'at all, an' y'll die.''
''Probably.''
''But if y'r dead, y'can' come back here an' kill me.''
''That's the first sensible thing you've said yet.''
''I know. I think I need an aspirin.''
''Sensible, but it's wrong. I my time we have solved these loop-problems. I don't know how to explain it to you exactly, but it suffices to say that...'' A long speech on wormholes, quantum-mechanics and interstellar gadgets followed.
''Make dat an aspirin an a glass o'vodka.''
''The point is this. I am everyone's last hope of a good future. If killing you means I die as well, than so be it. I do _not_ plan to let any of my fellow mutants down, father.''
''Well, I don' plan on dyin' any time soon, pup.''
''I will not let anyone die.'' Xavier interrupted as he entered the rec. room.
''The needs of many surpasses de live of one.'' Bishop stated.
''Y'r poppa teach y'dat? Don' sound like me. 'My needs surpass de lives o' everyone else'. Dat sound more like m', non?'' Remy wondered for a brief second why he enjoyed pissing off Bishop so much. Almost even more than pissing off Scott.
''It does sound like you. But you are wrong. Our lives stand in no contrast to the lives of so many.''
''Who tought y'dat den, ain? Not me. No one ever tol' y' dat y'have t' listen to y'r poppa?'' His hands were on his hips. He faked an angry look. Remy in father-mode, he almost scared himself.
''Surprisingly, no.'' Bishop found no humor in this mockery.
''Well why don' y' start now, ney? Never t'old t'start.''
Bishop merely glared at him.
''Look, it's late, why don' we discuss dis later, tomorrow, after a good nights rest. I'm sure dere's a spare room...''
''I will not leave you out of my sight.''
Remy smiled ''Ah. I knew y'loved me. All dis "I wan' kill y'", "I will eradicate y'", "you die now'" dat was just y'r li'l way o'saying "I love y'", non? Well, no worries den, cher, I love y' too.'' Remy reached out a hand to put on Bishops shoulder. With one solid movement Bishop pushed his arm away.
''I will not leave you out of my sight because I do not trust you, I will sleep where ever you sleep.''
''Didn' y'daddy tell y' not t'jump in bed wid some one on a first date?''
''...''
''Didn't expect I would.''
''Gambit is right, it is late, we should discuss this tomorrow. Kurt can sleep in the guest room, Bishop can sleep in his bed.'' Xavier said, he was rather tired. Tomorrow everything would look a lot better. He hoped.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
They had settled for the night. Remy sat on his bed and saw Bishop lay down on Kurt's bed, above the sheets, with his gun still on his arm.
''Y'gon lose dat?'' He pointed at the gun.
''A good soldier never lets go of his gun.''
''So, y' just gon' hang on t' it like a teddy?''
''Yes, much like you hang on to the .45 you keep under your pillow.'' Remy stared at the taller, dark man.
''I found it under your pillow once when I was a child. I expected you to be very angry at me for taking it. You weren't. So I dared asking you what it was. You told me it was a classic Colt .45, a gun from a long time ago. I asked you why you kept it under your pillow. You just said: if you can't beat them, shoot them. Many mutant-hunters have been overcome with it.'' Bishop realized this was probably the reason LeBeau wasn't dead yet, somewhere in his hatred there was still some love for his father. He had saved his live so many times. But how could he feel that? He shouldn't let it interfere. He should not be distracted by his feelings.
Remy smiled, lay down and patted his pillow. He fell asleep with a song in his head. ~....It was back in fourty-two, when times where hard, he had a Colt 45 and a deck of cards, Stagger Lee...~
A/N I'd love to write the whole lyric to that song, but that would mean rating this story very strongly. It is _not_ a kind little love song. So, I do think you'll agree that this is a weird chapter. Because it is. I hope it's a bit understandable, but please tell me if you really think it's a messed up chapter.
On next: Will Bishop kill his daddy? Will Remy get his new son a new bike for the summer? Will there be any son-father bonding? I didn't think so either.
Review and make me one happy screwball.