Kellie stared at the man who had just entered the mansion. Her breathe stopped on impact as she took in his features.
Auburn-brown hair in a long ponytail. Red on black eyes. Jean and a t-shirt with a brown trenchcoat. Different but yet the same man. Cards flowing from his pockets, several cradled in his hands.
She knew there was no mistake that he was from the picture. She'd found it before she'd run into and almost 'dusted' Logan; it had been buried beneathe a floor board. It was anyone's guess who had buried the picture.
It was a group shot of several people in uniforms with a strange X. She hadn't bothered to think about it, hadn't seen a reason. X for X-men. What was to think about? Who was this man if they were all dead? A ghost? The one that lived?
Russ repeated his previous, unwelcome greeting. "Who the hell are you?"
The man's gaze turned suspicious and the cards in his hand came ablaze. A reddish glow came from his hand and engulfed the cards; it was almost identical to what Russ had described. Almost.
"Dat, mon ami, isn't your concern. Where de X-Men?" The cajun accent sounded odd to Kellie's ears. New Yorkers all shared a common or similar accent if they'd lived there long enough. His was a change.
"The X-Men. What is it with these people? They've gotten a lot of people fooled with this X-Men garbage,"Corey stated, coming in from another room at the same moment that Rogue and Logan came down the stairs.
Kellie watched Rogue stop dead. All color drained from her face and she appeared to stop breathing.
"Oh, God, no..."
"Chere, Remy's home..." The cards flew in all directions as he released them.
Logan interrupted,"Take cover."
The three gathered 'recruits' took that as a sign and threw themselves into other room, behind furniture. Instantly several explosions went off followed by two voices, heavily swearing. One was in french, incredibly fast french.
"Remy Lebeau, don't talk like that,"Rogue stated, obviously getting her voice back. She now stood nose-to-nose with the man, Remy Lebeau. She didn't look pleased. "Don't upset the new recruits or we'll have another kiss...a very long kiss."
Remy smirked and delibertly brushed a strand of her from her face. "Promise, chere?"
What's with those two? They're acting like two kids who haven't had enough play time with one another...it's like they're family or....possibly past lovers?
Kellie recalled the picture that had been hidden. Remy, whoever he was, had his arm intertwined with Rogue's even though it looked like she'd rather have killed him then let him touch her from her expression. Her eyes said it wasn't the whole truth.
The moment and her thoughts were broken with the arrival of Angel and Julius. Their landing at the bottom of the stairs wasn't that easy as both appeared incredibly banged up and unhappy.
Logan growled and pointed to a room off to one side; the rec room. "Gumbo, Rogue, go. Kids, move it before I make you move and where's Tara?"
"Kid's stuck to the tv, Wolvie,"Rogue called back upon entering the room. Something clicked off followed by a protest then a yelp of suprise....................
Remy Lebeau's first thought upon entering the X-mansion, home of billionare, Charles Xavier, base of operation for the X-Men, was that it was wonderland. Someone, maybe Sinster, maybe Magneto, maybe Mesmero, maybe someone he couldn't remember, had transformed the mansion into it's own private joke.
Instead of being greeted by his chere, the usual jokes, and a Scott lecture he was met by three strangers. One female, spiked pink hair, dressed in black leather pants with an oversized red t-shirt, boots, and a million spiked jewlery pieces; gloves without knuckles covered both hands. One male, 'mullet' cut black hair, dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt with some nonexsistent band logo across the front, eating an apple. Another male. light brown hair in an almost military cut, dressed in what could only be Scott Attire.
Not de welcome dis cajun be expectin'.
Insult to injury had been Rogue and Logan's strange reaction combined with the other two kids who were, of all things, handcuffed together. Tara had been the biggest shock; how many kids had a tongue that could catch something on the other side of the room or could hang off ceilings?
Remy didn't know any. Or hadn't.
"Chere or Logan want to explain to Remy who dese chil'ren be?"he questioned, moving to longue in his favorite chair and realizing it wasn't there. He hit the floor, hard. "Where's Remy's chair, chere?"
Rogue sighed, motioning for them to sit. The six strange kids sat, more or less leaned against the wall on the opposite side of the room. Several of them looked more like they should be in a police line-up rather then the Xavier's Insitute for Gifted Youngsters.
"Remy, sugah, what day is it?"
Remy shrugged and leaned back, studying Rogue with a quizzical expression. "It be October 13th 1979. (Year of the Fall of the X-Men; the date when they all died)"
Laughter from the gathered recruits stopped his confidence. No one had laughed at him at the institute before without good reason; he didn't see a good reason at the moment. Rogue shook her head, slowly.
"No, hon, it's November 11th, 2004.....in all reality, the X-Men don't exist and you, Remy Lebeau, you're dead..."
Dead. A strange thing to hear someone say.
You, Remy Lebeau, you're dead.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Corey knew something was wrong the second Rogue finished speaking. The change in 'Remy's' demeanor couldn't have been mastered through practice or anything; the disbelief and anguish that crossed his face couldn't be fake.
"Stop wit' de joke, Roguey. Dis isn' amusing to dis cajun...."
"Gumbo, it's fact. Check the calendar, the tv, anything.....it's 2004 and the X-men are all dead except for us. We found the bodies, including yours. If you need proof, follow me." Logan stated the facts with zero emotion before walking away. Remy and Rogue followed.
Corey hesitated, traded looks with the others left behind. It was unspoken what they would do. There was no need to say it.Proof. The thing they'd all been searching for.
He crossed the room and followed.
Seconds passed before the next group left.
He didn't know why they bothered moving at diffrent times. They all planned to go to one place; it wasn't that hard to figure out.
Footsteps echoed and marred the dirt packed ground in the fast fading daylight. Make-shift grave marks, two sticks made into a crude cross with a name scratched into the outmost one, covered the back yard. They seemed to go on for miles.
The first trio stopped at the head of the stones but Rogue motioned with one hand to the six hanging back.
"This is for you too. See the dream that wasn't...."
The dream. They spoke as if it was over now but earlier they'd spoken about 'continuing the dream'. It felt like they were giving up.
Corey walked past the trio. He walked between diffrent stones, reading names. They made no sense to him but some of them were marked with odd names.
Sage: Psylocke
Jean Grey Summers: Phoenix
Scott Summers: Cyclops
Bishop
Warren Worthington III: Angel
Henry "Hank" McCoy: Beast
Robert Drake: Iceman
Remy Lebeau: Gambit
Ororo Munroe: Storm
Sarah: Morrow
Kurt Wagner: Nightcrawler (Here a single rose laid across the stone and the word 'brother' was carved beside the names. Someone came here often, judging by the imprints in the fresh dirt)
Millions more covered the ground. He barely made out stranger names-Shadow Cat, Banshee, Mystique, Lifeguard....
The last one really held his attention.
Charles Xavier: Professor
The professor.
Voices drew his attention and he looked around, surveying the others. Rogue, Remy, and Logan hadn't moved from their spot, Remy's grave, except Remy had dropped to his knees. Kellie and Tara were moving throughout the graves, reading names with a strange look written on their faces; almost disbelief. Julius stood next to Angel(what choice did they have with handcuffs?). That's where the strange part was. Angel was crying, crying without a sound, crying for people she never knew, people she never could know.
Empathy.
Corey understood the term far better then the others. This had to be hell for her, feeling what the others did especially the remaining X-Men; it had to be hell for them. He understood the pain of losing someone that mattered but losing everyone that mattered.
One moment.
Everyone gone but you.
Only two survivors.
You're one.
Hell alone.
Finding the bodies. Burying them. Alone.
Hell.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Logan walked outside and leaned against one of the support pillars of the mansion. He didn't bother with a cigar since he didn't plan to move and he knew he wasn't alone; he looked over toward the rocking chair on the porch.
"Kid, why are you sitting out here?"
Tara shrugged, drawing her legs up into the chair with her. She looked past him at the darkness. "Didn't want to be inside...dead silence gets to me. No one's really spoken since earlier with....the graves. Who are all those people, Logan?"
He sighed. "Those were the X-men. Were. They're dead now except the ones you know, end of story..."
"You and Rogue talked of a dream. Were they part of it?"
"Yeah, kid, they were the dream."
"What was Xavier's dream as you called it?"she asked, unable to stop herself.
Logan tensed but tried not to show it. The kid was getting to him, no one got to him. Ever.
"The dream was for mutants and humans to live together without one dominating the other. He wanted them to co-exsist. Magneto wanted homo superior to rule homo sapien, no co-exsistance. Years fighting for a dream that failed in one moment. There was never a chance for either side to win.....humanity hated us even those that tried to help. To them we were always a danger, always unacceptable..."
Tara drew her legs up and wrapped her arms around them. Everything in the girl had gone defensive at the statements or facts he'd made. Something told him she understood the inability to co-exsist more then everyone of them did; he had a feeling all the kids had a helluva understanding for their ages.
The girl didn't speak again.
She didn't need to.
There was the whole plan of Xavier's dream laid out in black and white.
The decision was here for her and for the others.
Take it and save a lost cause or drop it and continue their exsistence in death, riots, and shadows.
There's chapter seven. There may still be more X-Men coming back but at the moment there's only those three...sorry; Hank is on the list, later. Jean won't be back because I, unlike Marvel, know when to leave the evil one dead-now. Things get more intense in the next few chapters, including the beginning of serious training.....there's about to be a skip of times for plot reasons.
Auburn-brown hair in a long ponytail. Red on black eyes. Jean and a t-shirt with a brown trenchcoat. Different but yet the same man. Cards flowing from his pockets, several cradled in his hands.
She knew there was no mistake that he was from the picture. She'd found it before she'd run into and almost 'dusted' Logan; it had been buried beneathe a floor board. It was anyone's guess who had buried the picture.
It was a group shot of several people in uniforms with a strange X. She hadn't bothered to think about it, hadn't seen a reason. X for X-men. What was to think about? Who was this man if they were all dead? A ghost? The one that lived?
Russ repeated his previous, unwelcome greeting. "Who the hell are you?"
The man's gaze turned suspicious and the cards in his hand came ablaze. A reddish glow came from his hand and engulfed the cards; it was almost identical to what Russ had described. Almost.
"Dat, mon ami, isn't your concern. Where de X-Men?" The cajun accent sounded odd to Kellie's ears. New Yorkers all shared a common or similar accent if they'd lived there long enough. His was a change.
"The X-Men. What is it with these people? They've gotten a lot of people fooled with this X-Men garbage,"Corey stated, coming in from another room at the same moment that Rogue and Logan came down the stairs.
Kellie watched Rogue stop dead. All color drained from her face and she appeared to stop breathing.
"Oh, God, no..."
"Chere, Remy's home..." The cards flew in all directions as he released them.
Logan interrupted,"Take cover."
The three gathered 'recruits' took that as a sign and threw themselves into other room, behind furniture. Instantly several explosions went off followed by two voices, heavily swearing. One was in french, incredibly fast french.
"Remy Lebeau, don't talk like that,"Rogue stated, obviously getting her voice back. She now stood nose-to-nose with the man, Remy Lebeau. She didn't look pleased. "Don't upset the new recruits or we'll have another kiss...a very long kiss."
Remy smirked and delibertly brushed a strand of her from her face. "Promise, chere?"
What's with those two? They're acting like two kids who haven't had enough play time with one another...it's like they're family or....possibly past lovers?
Kellie recalled the picture that had been hidden. Remy, whoever he was, had his arm intertwined with Rogue's even though it looked like she'd rather have killed him then let him touch her from her expression. Her eyes said it wasn't the whole truth.
The moment and her thoughts were broken with the arrival of Angel and Julius. Their landing at the bottom of the stairs wasn't that easy as both appeared incredibly banged up and unhappy.
Logan growled and pointed to a room off to one side; the rec room. "Gumbo, Rogue, go. Kids, move it before I make you move and where's Tara?"
"Kid's stuck to the tv, Wolvie,"Rogue called back upon entering the room. Something clicked off followed by a protest then a yelp of suprise....................
Remy Lebeau's first thought upon entering the X-mansion, home of billionare, Charles Xavier, base of operation for the X-Men, was that it was wonderland. Someone, maybe Sinster, maybe Magneto, maybe Mesmero, maybe someone he couldn't remember, had transformed the mansion into it's own private joke.
Instead of being greeted by his chere, the usual jokes, and a Scott lecture he was met by three strangers. One female, spiked pink hair, dressed in black leather pants with an oversized red t-shirt, boots, and a million spiked jewlery pieces; gloves without knuckles covered both hands. One male, 'mullet' cut black hair, dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt with some nonexsistent band logo across the front, eating an apple. Another male. light brown hair in an almost military cut, dressed in what could only be Scott Attire.
Not de welcome dis cajun be expectin'.
Insult to injury had been Rogue and Logan's strange reaction combined with the other two kids who were, of all things, handcuffed together. Tara had been the biggest shock; how many kids had a tongue that could catch something on the other side of the room or could hang off ceilings?
Remy didn't know any. Or hadn't.
"Chere or Logan want to explain to Remy who dese chil'ren be?"he questioned, moving to longue in his favorite chair and realizing it wasn't there. He hit the floor, hard. "Where's Remy's chair, chere?"
Rogue sighed, motioning for them to sit. The six strange kids sat, more or less leaned against the wall on the opposite side of the room. Several of them looked more like they should be in a police line-up rather then the Xavier's Insitute for Gifted Youngsters.
"Remy, sugah, what day is it?"
Remy shrugged and leaned back, studying Rogue with a quizzical expression. "It be October 13th 1979. (Year of the Fall of the X-Men; the date when they all died)"
Laughter from the gathered recruits stopped his confidence. No one had laughed at him at the institute before without good reason; he didn't see a good reason at the moment. Rogue shook her head, slowly.
"No, hon, it's November 11th, 2004.....in all reality, the X-Men don't exist and you, Remy Lebeau, you're dead..."
Dead. A strange thing to hear someone say.
You, Remy Lebeau, you're dead.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Corey knew something was wrong the second Rogue finished speaking. The change in 'Remy's' demeanor couldn't have been mastered through practice or anything; the disbelief and anguish that crossed his face couldn't be fake.
"Stop wit' de joke, Roguey. Dis isn' amusing to dis cajun...."
"Gumbo, it's fact. Check the calendar, the tv, anything.....it's 2004 and the X-men are all dead except for us. We found the bodies, including yours. If you need proof, follow me." Logan stated the facts with zero emotion before walking away. Remy and Rogue followed.
Corey hesitated, traded looks with the others left behind. It was unspoken what they would do. There was no need to say it.Proof. The thing they'd all been searching for.
He crossed the room and followed.
Seconds passed before the next group left.
He didn't know why they bothered moving at diffrent times. They all planned to go to one place; it wasn't that hard to figure out.
Footsteps echoed and marred the dirt packed ground in the fast fading daylight. Make-shift grave marks, two sticks made into a crude cross with a name scratched into the outmost one, covered the back yard. They seemed to go on for miles.
The first trio stopped at the head of the stones but Rogue motioned with one hand to the six hanging back.
"This is for you too. See the dream that wasn't...."
The dream. They spoke as if it was over now but earlier they'd spoken about 'continuing the dream'. It felt like they were giving up.
Corey walked past the trio. He walked between diffrent stones, reading names. They made no sense to him but some of them were marked with odd names.
Sage: Psylocke
Jean Grey Summers: Phoenix
Scott Summers: Cyclops
Bishop
Warren Worthington III: Angel
Henry "Hank" McCoy: Beast
Robert Drake: Iceman
Remy Lebeau: Gambit
Ororo Munroe: Storm
Sarah: Morrow
Kurt Wagner: Nightcrawler (Here a single rose laid across the stone and the word 'brother' was carved beside the names. Someone came here often, judging by the imprints in the fresh dirt)
Millions more covered the ground. He barely made out stranger names-Shadow Cat, Banshee, Mystique, Lifeguard....
The last one really held his attention.
Charles Xavier: Professor
The professor.
Voices drew his attention and he looked around, surveying the others. Rogue, Remy, and Logan hadn't moved from their spot, Remy's grave, except Remy had dropped to his knees. Kellie and Tara were moving throughout the graves, reading names with a strange look written on their faces; almost disbelief. Julius stood next to Angel(what choice did they have with handcuffs?). That's where the strange part was. Angel was crying, crying without a sound, crying for people she never knew, people she never could know.
Empathy.
Corey understood the term far better then the others. This had to be hell for her, feeling what the others did especially the remaining X-Men; it had to be hell for them. He understood the pain of losing someone that mattered but losing everyone that mattered.
One moment.
Everyone gone but you.
Only two survivors.
You're one.
Hell alone.
Finding the bodies. Burying them. Alone.
Hell.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Logan walked outside and leaned against one of the support pillars of the mansion. He didn't bother with a cigar since he didn't plan to move and he knew he wasn't alone; he looked over toward the rocking chair on the porch.
"Kid, why are you sitting out here?"
Tara shrugged, drawing her legs up into the chair with her. She looked past him at the darkness. "Didn't want to be inside...dead silence gets to me. No one's really spoken since earlier with....the graves. Who are all those people, Logan?"
He sighed. "Those were the X-men. Were. They're dead now except the ones you know, end of story..."
"You and Rogue talked of a dream. Were they part of it?"
"Yeah, kid, they were the dream."
"What was Xavier's dream as you called it?"she asked, unable to stop herself.
Logan tensed but tried not to show it. The kid was getting to him, no one got to him. Ever.
"The dream was for mutants and humans to live together without one dominating the other. He wanted them to co-exsist. Magneto wanted homo superior to rule homo sapien, no co-exsistance. Years fighting for a dream that failed in one moment. There was never a chance for either side to win.....humanity hated us even those that tried to help. To them we were always a danger, always unacceptable..."
Tara drew her legs up and wrapped her arms around them. Everything in the girl had gone defensive at the statements or facts he'd made. Something told him she understood the inability to co-exsist more then everyone of them did; he had a feeling all the kids had a helluva understanding for their ages.
The girl didn't speak again.
She didn't need to.
There was the whole plan of Xavier's dream laid out in black and white.
The decision was here for her and for the others.
Take it and save a lost cause or drop it and continue their exsistence in death, riots, and shadows.
There's chapter seven. There may still be more X-Men coming back but at the moment there's only those three...sorry; Hank is on the list, later. Jean won't be back because I, unlike Marvel, know when to leave the evil one dead-now. Things get more intense in the next few chapters, including the beginning of serious training.....there's about to be a skip of times for plot reasons.