Disclaimer: ...take one *hiccup* down, pass it around, one bottle of beer on the wall. *hiccup* I own one bottle of beer on the wall, one *hiccup* bottle of beer, take one down smash it around...oh, it broke *hiccup*...oh well...I own ninety-nine bottles of scotch on the wall...

Caliente This chapter might change your mind about the 'defect'ness of Gambit. He's not entirely sane, you'll see.

Dark Elf3 He-he. I mean, no, don't fall! Look here's more, see, a non-evil but definitely not very healthy Remy.

AGST I'm trying very hard, but frankly, I'm not succeeding. And, no, he's not dead, naturally, but hey, I had to say something, right?

Ishandahalf Hasn't it always been like that? And yes, it does look pretty bad, and it's not getting much better soon.

_shadow Come up here, don't go falling or anything. See? A new chappy, be happy. :)

Leann He should be able to get out, he is a thief after all, but…well, just read and you'll see...

Emma Welcome back, then. Glad you still like it. Good, the flashback was all right, that's good.

Ima Super Mute Ant Okay, brunch or perhaps linner. And maybe you should have some doughnuts with that coffee...

Lonewolf I'm game if I can be Minister and Keeper of Insanity Writing. And if I can have a large pool with piranhas to swim freely and enjoy their occasional fanficwriter-lunch...

Epona Don't worry, here's more…;)

A/N Warning: This chapter contains a dead body. If you don't want to read about it, stop reading right after 'it smelled like hell in there' and skip that entire paragraph...

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I'm not as think as you drunk I am.

Fissie

Slowly Remy woke up. ~Hello world.~ He felt incredibly dizzy and didn't dare opening his eyes that felt like they were on fire. Instantly he started determining his location by touching everything in reach with his hands, his spatial awareness still too dazed to be able to help him. Lesson number one when you don't know where you are: find out. Not all Guild lessons were equally ingenious, but all were very useful and very true.

First he determined his own status. Aside of incredibly nauseous and dazed. He touched his neck, a metal collar was tied around it. He didn't wear his coat any more and his left sleeve was ripped off. The bandana around his arm had been replaced with an actual bandage. It didn't hurt as much, so he suspected the wound had been cleaned. ~How considerate of dem.~

He felt himself lying on a soft surface, probably a mattress. Hands continued searching, the mattress lay on the floor in a corner of whatever the room was he was in. He touched the wall on his right, they were pretty damp concrete and crumbly. He touched the floor, which was a combination of dirt and dust and felt equally damp. ~Damp room, mattress on de floor...~ Remy strongly got the feeling he was not going to like the place he was in. One thing still needed to be found to be able to found his suspicions. Slowly his left arm stretched out. Before his arm was fully stretched he bumped into something plastic. Remy's suspicions proved right. A bucket. Ah, the wonderful comfort of modern hygienic-facilities. No, Remy was definitely not going to like this place.

Lesson number one when you just found out were you are and have determined that you do not like it there: get out. Slowly Remy pushed himself into a more or less upright position. ~Dieu.~ he placed an arm on a wall in support and lifted himself to a standing position. He stepped off the mattress still clutching to the wall, hoping that he would be able to stand better on solid ground. That seemed to work. He tried taking a few steps to determine the size and features of his new surroundings. He took one small step, away from the wall and lost his balance. ~Whoa, gravity.~ He fell flat on his face on the dirty ground. ~Ouch.~ Consciousness was lost again.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

He woke to find himself facedown in the dirt with a completely numb right arm and a mouth filled with dust. He lifted his head and spat the sand out. ~Okay, focus.~ The small request was impossible to comply, so instead he rolled himself back on the mattress. In his wait for blood to come back into his arm he realized that it was actually a quite comfy mattress, it felt new. When he felt his arm again, he lifted himself, sitting up and resting his head against the wall. He rubbed his temples. ~Did I drink a whole liquor store or somethin'? Can someone find me a new head?~ Silently he prayed for a large cup of coffee to come down to him from heaven. ~Dey mus' have drugged m' big time. Never felt dis hung over before in m' life. Gonna be sick sometime soon.~ A prepared thief was a successful thief and so he took the bucket, placed it next to him and begged to whoever would listen. ~Please let de bucket be new. De mattress is new, so de bucket is new too, right?...Please...~ A light sniff in the correct direction assured him that the bucket was indeed new and had not been used before. Apparently, he was the first one to inhabit this room. For that, he was grateful.

Suddenly and not welcomly the events of earlier started to replay in his mind. Cold shivers ran down his spine as realization of his situation struck him. The beatings, the cold around his neck, the syringe... He clenched his fists felt his anger boiling. ~Someone's gonna pay for dis, someone's...~ A voice echoed in his brain, ~X-men don't kill, X-men don't kill, remember Gambit, X-men don't kill.~ The voice bore an uncanny resemblance to Scott's voice. ~Great, m' conscience sounds like Four-eyes now. You treacherous mind.~ He let his anger fade just enough to assess current situations.

They must have taken him prisoner after the beatings. ~Let's see. I'm here alone, have no sense o' where at all, don' know where de rest o' de team is...Dis qualifies as a problem.~

He opened his eyes, slowly, now that the sting was getting less. He rubbed his eyes and looked again. He rubbed his eyes again and looked again. He saw absolutely nothing. ~Great. I can see well in dark but dis is ridiculous. I need a light.~ He raised his fingertip to create a little light, but the familiar pink glow did not appear ~Problem just got bigger.~

The collar was getting real uncomfortable. But what was its use? It didn't tie him to anything...

Apparently Remy's brain decided that he had thought enough for the moment and he slipped back into oblivion.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

He woke up with a start and sat right up, immediately regretting the movement. Finally, after days of thinking he came up with something useful. ~I remember! Kramer wanted some files 'bout experimental technology on mutant power restriction oh damn de collar~ He sighed long and deep ~Why did m' brain hav' t' wait so long t' remember? Merde.~ Timing is essential, any thief should know. Of course the whole thing had played over one and a half year ago, so who could blame him for forgetting. He touched the collar. ~I can.~ But a thief would not be a thief without the essential lock-pick. Luckily Remy had one in the sleeve of his right arm aside of the whole arsenal in his coat.   ~Now, where's de lock on dis thin'?~ He fiddled the collar a bit. ~ No lock?...Not even a seem?~ He touched a small disturbance in the collar. ~ Aha! A seem!...Dat brought me no closer t' gettin' it off whatsoever.~

Numerous attempts to getting the thing off failed. While reaching the conclusion that he would not be able to get the thing off in his current state of mind, he remembered that Kramer had still needed guinea pigs to test his technology on and he had asked Gambit to find people for him. Remy had refused the offer, despite of the million dollars attached to the job. No way was Remy recruiting any people for any purpose for any mad scientist at any time, ever.

He slowly stood up, finally beating gravity. ~Dey put me in here, dere gotta be a way out. I am a Master Thief, I get out here in no time.~ It was a very small room. A very small room with concrete walls and no door. Expert hands trailed along the walls in search of the slightest imperfection.

~Where's de fuckin' exit?~ He heard voices coming from above him. ~Great I'm in a hole in de ground. How high is dis thing?~

He saw a tiny beam of light coming from above and estimated the room had to be...pretty damn high. But that wasn't going to stop him. Time to get out. He stretched both arms and determined the width of the room. ~Should be okay...~ He placed his back in one of the walls. ~'F m' head could jus' stop poundin'.~

He placed one foot on one wall and with a slight jump he placed the other foot the opposite wall. His two legs made an angle of 180 degrees. ~Hurray for agility.~ He shuffled one foot a tiny step up, holding his hands on the wall at his back as support. Unfortunately, those two hands decided not to cooperate any longer. ~Hurray.~ He fell butt down on the floor and slipped to unconsciousness once again.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

He woke up from a dream. A dream about a nice, warm, white beach with nice, cool, blue seawater and a nice brown hair white-streaked girl at his side. Remy sighed. ~Face it LeBeau, dat girl, she be gettin' to y'.~ He didn't really mind, he realized he really did like her a lot, but his timing was terrible. Then again, he was married, so his timing would suck either way.

Sighing again, he realized he was not in bed, in his room, but on the floor in a dark room. He stood up and began to understand the situation once more. ~Oh, right. Where was I?~ He placed his feet in the same positions again and leaned into the wall at his back, supporting his weight with his hands.

Slowly but surely, he started climbing his way up. ~I ain' Spiderman, normal thieves ain' supposed t' do dis.~ One step. ~I ain' Spiderman, normal thieves ain' supposed t' do dis.~ Another step. ~I ain' Spiderman, normal thieves ain' supposed t' do dis.~ Another step. ~I ain' Spiderman, normal thieves ain' supposed t' do dis.~

This mantra continued until his head bumped on the lid that separated this hole with the outside world. ~I Made it! I am Spiderman!...No, I'm Superman! I'm King o' de...Woah...~ He was this close to loosing his balance, and he doubted he would survive the fall.

He wanted to open the lid when he saw a beam of light shine through a tiny seem in the top. By the way it moved, Remy assumed it was a flashlight. ~Could it be t' get m' blind and disorientated again?~

''Shall I get him?'' Remy cringed at the sound of a voice. Undoubtedly they were talking about getting him. ~Not now, not now, not now...~ He didn't much feel like being spotted in this position. 

''No, not yet. Not until the drugs wear off. You overdid it a bit.''

~A bit? Did he say drugs, as in more den one drug? No wonder I feel like dis.~

''I'll come back later, then.''

''Yes, let us check on the others.'' Two pairs of shoes walked away talking inaudibly.

~De oders? Dey got de rest o' de team as well? Merde.~

He waited until the voices died out to make his move. He pushed the lid to find that it didn't even have a lock. Not that he, Master Thief, would not be able to open it, but he was grateful non the less that he didn't have to. He was still drowsy and nauseous and had a hard time focussing on anything.

He opened the lid just slightly and cringed at the sudden wave of light. It wasn't all that bright, but his eyes accustomed too well to the dark. Actually, it was quite dark, which explained the flashlight those two had used to come to him.

He peeked through and spotted one camera above him, or actually, just a little red light, hidden behind one of the iron grilles in the ceiling. He took in his surroundings, without making a sound and without moving the lid more than absolutely necessary. The camera could not spot that slight movement.

They must've been out of proper cells to put him in and dumped him in a hole in the ground. That was the only explanation he could find for the poorly guarded place he was currently escaping from. They must've thought he was helpless without powers and doped with drugs. He loved being underestimated. Dazed as he was, he got out without so much as causing a shadow to appear on the camera.

He moved up to the ceiling and without making a sound he pushed another grille in and lifted himself to the space between the ceiling and the floor above. It was a fairly dark space, filled with tubes and electric wires. He tried to clear his head once more and started thinking.

~Check list. Find trench coat. Find cards. Find a way out o' here. Find de rest. Get dis damn collar off. Find a toilet.~ At that precise moment in time, his stomach gave up on him. He threw up. ~Okay, scratch toilet...Hey, did I eat carrot?~ He started crawling, trying to focus on what he had to do, but a thought crept into his mind. It bothered him that they had known to use bright light to blind and disorient him. That was not a good sign at all.

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He stopped crawling when he reached a room. It smelled like hell in there and he couldn't see anything, the restriction collar prevented his night sight, but he really wanted to stretch his back and all that crawling had only made his headache worse. Besides, he needed clues as to where he was. Carefully he jumped on the floor. He didn't dare turning on any lights. Not that he could find a light switch, anyway. With his hands in front of him, he started walking.

He reached a table, a hard, cold steel table. With his hands he traced the surface. His hand winced as he felt a peculiar shape. Curious, both hands, now, patted the contours. He couldn't move. ~ Mon Dieu~ It was a face. A cold, hard, yet squeezable face. He froze at the realization. He was touching a dead body. With his bare hands. ~I never be able t' eat wid dese hands ever again.~ His hands traced along the body. It was a man. A dead naked man, he presumed, because no way he was going to touch him there to find out just how undressed this person really was. He felt the man's neck. A collar was tight around it. It was the same type of collar Remy was wearing.

He bumped into another steel examination table. Carefully he tried touching the surface. This body had been covered with a wet cloth. Remy was getting a bit anxious. ~How many dead bodies do dese people keep in here?~

Slowly, his mind started recapitulating events. Kramer had requested Remy to find subjects for him right after he had stolen the information on mutant power restriction. He recalled the kidnap of several adults a few months ago. Kramer must have found other ways of getting his testing subjects. Could this man have been used as guinea pig? And now this man was dead. ~ What if I had accepted de job? What if I had kidnapped dose people he asked me to?~ If he had been involved, maybe he could have prevented their deaths. Maybe he would've seen what was going on in time. Maybe he could've saved them. Maybe...

He stood there for a second more, pretending it was the stench of the damp cloth that made him sick. ~I need to get out o' dis room.~ He climbed back up and crawled away from that horrid place.

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He found another room. This one was a bit lighter. He could distinguish enough shapes to conclude he was in an office with a desk and a lot of file cabinets. He spotted a few cameras that would easily be avoided and one particular camera, pointing at one particular file cabinet. ~Dat must be an interestin' cabinet.~ Still too dizzy to make any brilliant moves, Remy settled for a simple trick. In one quick and smooth movement he turned the camera to a different cabinet. Now the trick was to wait for about twenty minutes. If no one had arrived by then, it was save to say that no one noticed the change. Remy spend those twenty minutes to sit back and wishing his hang over away.

No one had come around to see, so Remy declared the coast clear. He dodged the rest of the cameras and reached the file cabinet. It were files about all sorts of mutants. They were much more detailed than the ones they had found at Kramer's apartment. He traveled through the many files, the ones he himself had stolen, a dozen post mortem reports, pathological research. It seemed the restriction collar currently around his neck had been a pretty tricky thing to develop. These people were preparing the next step after the mutant registration law: mutant containment. They were getting ready for imprisoning mutants, just like Bishop had told them will happen in the future. Gambit was not happy.

He spotted another file; marked X. He opened it and started reading it.  It looked familiar.

~ Dese are de files Xavier keeps o' us.~ They were just like the files he had found and copied on the very first night he stayed at the mansion. Every page contained information about each x-man. ~Dey must've known 'bout us all along.~ He found his own file. ~Gambit; Remy Lebeau. Ability to kinetically charge inanimate matter. Vision adaptation in dark. Might cause eyes to be photosensitive...I don' believe dis.~ He rolled his eyes and shook his head in unbelief. ~What man puts weaknesses in files on a badly secured computer free for everyone t' pick up? Charles Xavier, you naïve homme. Dey knew exactly how t' beat us. Even got Bishop here!~ He sighed. ~If y' can' beat dem, check de security on de computer, cos dat's why!~

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A/N Well, this was one large monologue. Hope you liked it and didn't find it too boring. And yes, it had a pretty lame i.y.c.b.t.-line, but I couldn't think of anything else.

On next: Well, Remy's trying to get out, who do you think is trying to get in? And there are still little kiddies that have to be saved from the big bad evil guys...

Review and I'll unravel the mystery of the meaning of life itself... Nah, but if I ever bump into it, you'll be the first to know. But seriously, this story is really developing an inferiority complex and I just really like to know what you think of it, good or bad.

A/N I've heard the cartoon has been cancelled (for stupid reasons that shall remain unnamed). Does that mean this fanfic section is going to be cancelled too? ...