Title: Long Way Down (7/8)
Authors: B/C & M/G
Rating: PG-13 - Logan needs his mouth washed out.
Disclaimer: No, I don't own them. I only sit up until all hours of the night playing with them like this because I just have to procrastinate and give myself midnight deadlines. Not like I need sleep or a break or anything like that, no. It's more important to make sure that some sort of plot advancement occurs and we get nearer to that whole slash concept between Logan and Remy. Obviously these fictional characters are more important than the physical and mental health of the author. What was I thinking? Oh, and once again, I don't own them.
Beast put on his glasses, viewing a screen with the results from Cyclops' tests. The doctor shook his head gravely, and with a few keystrokes, a graph appeared on the screen. Beast sighed and removed his glasses once again to massage the bridge of his nose. Cyclops wasn't going to get up for a while.
Beast walked over to Scott's hospital bed. The younger mutant's eyes were closed behind his protective visor and his breathing was painfully loud and rasping. His hair was drenched in sweat and he shook violently from time to time, whether from cold or fever dreams Beast could not tell. He held up a syringe and filled it with a liquid from a bottle nearby, then tapped out the air bubbles with his clawed index finger, careful not to crack the plastic.
He inserted the needle into the brachial artery and pushed the plastic plunger down. Scott shuddered slightly and then opened his eyes slowly, groaning. Through his glasses all he could see was a blurry, blue mass hovering over him.
"Beast?"
"Yes, I'm here Cyclops. Just trying to get you back in top form," Beast replied, removing the needle from Scott's arm and placing a sterilized pad on the small bubble of blood.
"Would you hold this in place for a moment?" Beast asked.
Scott obeyed.
"Wha...? Where are...?"
"We're back at the Xavier Institute, Scott. You're in the infirmary. Do you recall what happened?"
"Plague...she...she..."
"Yes. I know," Beast said sympathetically.
"Did we...get the kid?" Cyclops asked.
Beast hesitated. "No, we did not. Sinister and his aggregation of fiends apprehended her. A most unfortunate turn of events."
Cyclops tried to swallow and turned his head away.
Wolverine, lying on a bed nearby, opened his eyes. Still in his field uniform he rolled off of the cot and walked groggily over to Beast and Cyclops.
"Hey, doc. How is everyone? Oh, geez. You look like hell, Cyke." Logan inspected him closer. "You might be sick, too."
Cyclops looked at the wall, frowning.
"Wolverine!" Beast exclaimed sternly. "You're...you should still be lying down! You suffered a serious injury!"
"With my powers?" Wolverine shot back. "I'm fine, doc."
"Logan...your head was embedded in a dumpster..." Beast replied patiently.
"I said I'm fine."
"Well...all right."
"Hey! Did we get the lil' girl?" Wolverine asked hopefully.
"No, I'm afraid not."
"Oh..." Wolverine looked at the floor.
"Logan, Scott needs a bandage on his arm. Would you get it?" Beast asked.
He shook his head. "You bet. Whatcha want, Cyke? Hearts or puppy dogs?" Logan walked over to a box and took out a package of plain bandages. He took one from the container and placed it over the gauze pad with uncharacteristic gentleness. "Better?"
Cyclops remained silent, frowning at the far wall.
Beast saw Cyclops' discontentment and tried to separate him from Logan.
"Uh, Wolverine, would you be so kind as to check on Rogue?" Beast asked.
"Sure." Wolverine walked to the other side of the lab.
Rogue was lying on another bed unconscious. Her left arm was hooked up to an IV, perpetually dripping liquid nutrients into her body.
"Still out cold, huh?" Wolverine asked.
"Yes. Just as bad as when she arrived," Beast's voice echoed faintly across the sterile, blue lab.
Light footsteps approached behind Wolverine. He turned to see none other then Storm walking toward him carrying a tray of cups and medical utensils.
"Storm!" Logan exclaimed gruffly. He wrinkled his nose and gave it a cross-eyed glare before speaking again. "How are ya? Feelin' better?"
Doesn't smell like Storm...must be cuz she's sick.
"Why, yes, Logan," Storm replied in her strong, accented voice. "It is good to see you. Doctor, where would you like these?"
"On the counter is fine," Beast told her.
Storm set them on a nearby countertop.
"The doc has you workin' for him? Ya sure you're up to that?" Wolverine asked.
"Oh, yes. In fact, I volunteered. I have nothing better to do at the moment. I am still recovering and Beast wants me to stay in the infirmary for at least three more days to monitor me," she replied.
Wolverine nodded and looked around the room. Three incapacitated X-Men – probably four: Storm wasn't ready to take to the field yet.
He walked over to Iceman who, in contrast to his teammates, was awake and alert and already indulging in a favored pastime: complaining.
"Hey, how's it goin'?" Wolverine asked.
"Not so hot. My leg hurts and I'm bored out of my mind," Bobby replied.
Logan lifted the blue blanket and removed the bandage on Bobby's left leg revealing a five inch long gash exposing red flesh. Wolverine lifted his eyebrows and looked away, replacing the bandage. "'m sure you'll manage. Well, get better, kid."
"Thanks."
Logan turned away from the bed-ridden mutant and looked at the nearby wall. Hooks with medical supplies draping off of them jutted out of the blue metal. Wolverine casually plucked a reflex hammer from its place and experimentally prodded the rubber tip, testing it on random places on his limbs. Becoming quickly bored, he gingerly smacked the metal counter, the light tap erupting into a clatter that almost shook the entire infirmary.
Beast cringed at the obscenely loud noise and shot Logan a look.
"Uh, Wolverine, would you help me for a moment?"
"Sure, Doc." Wolverine placed the hammer on the counter and walked over to the hairy mutant.
"I need to change Rogue's IV pack." Beast, reaching in to a drawer, brought out a plastic sack and he walked over to Rogue's unconscious body. He plucked the line out of Rogue's arm. "I just need you to hold this for a moment," he told Wolverine, handing him the tube.
Beast carefully disconnected the line from the pack that was supported by a metal rack.
Wolverine looked around the room and sniffed.
Beast set the used IV pack on the corner of Rogue's bed and reached for the new one.
Wolverine began to rock impatiently on his heels.
Beast placed the IV pack into the metal support structure.
"So, uh, Doc...ya look like ya got yer hands full in 'ere," Wolverine said.
"Yes. It's unfortunate that so many of the X-Men were made to suffer. Although, Nightcrawler seems to be doing well. He was aiding me earlier, before you awoke. And Gambit, also.
Wolverine's eyes popped open.
The Cajun!
Beast connected the tube to the pack and grabbed it from Logan, sticking the needle back into Rogue's arm.
"There we are."
"Uh, all right, Doc. I gotta take off. I'll see ya around. Good t'see ya again, Storm." Wolverine hurriedly headed for the infirmary door.
"So long, and take care." Beast watched as the mutant who was lying unconscious not ten minutes earlier stormed out of the room. "'One must not forget that recovery is brought about not by the physician, but by the sick man himself.' Georg Groddeck. That most definitely is the case with Wolverine, is it not?" he asked Storm.
Storm smiled.
A crackling on one of the monitors drew Beast's attention.
"Hank?" Xavier called over the monitor.
"Yes, I'm here Professor."
"How are things down there?"
"Well..." Beast scanned his mental list of patients. "Cyclops has awoken. But he is still ill and will not be able to work for a while. I would say four or five days. Iceman's leg will not permit him to walk for weeks. I will stitch it when I am finished here. Storm is up and about now. I know you talked with her earlier. I do not foresee any complications with her recovery."
Storm walked into view. "Hello, Professor."
"Hello, Ororo."
"And Rogue is still unconscious, although I am unaware as to why..." Beast prompted.
"I can enlighten you on that subject," Xavier responded. "During the battle, Rogue touched Sinister."
"With her bare skin!" Beast asked, barely managing to school his voice to a proper volume.
"Yes, I'm afraid so. She thought it would weaken him and she would be able to gain his powers. But Sinister is not a mutant. His power was too much for her and she blacked out."
"Astonishing." Beast scratched his hairy chin, looking at Rogue. "Well, I shall take the utmost care with her, Professor."
"I know, Hank. You do a fine job. I will be calling a meeting in the war room within the hour so be prepared to arrive. Good luck, my friend."
"Thank you, Professor."
The monitor switched off. Beast walked over to a sink and filled a glass with water, handing it to Scott. Cyclops gulped the liquid down greedily. His head hit the pillow again and he slept. Beast pulled the blanket around his neck.
Wolverine rounded the corner and stomped up the staircase, roughly running a hand through his matted hair. The bandage on his head was beginning to come undone, and he impatiently tore it off, stuffing the crumpled wad into the pocket of his flannel pants. Physically, he felt fine already; he would never understand why Beast insisted upon keeping him in the infirmary when his mutant powers could take care of an injury just as easily.
His only worry was Gambit.
The Cajun had been hit hard when the team lost the last child, and this time it was even more personal. Wolverine couldn't fail to notice the immediate connection between Gambit and Mia – an instant bond of trust – that must have made the loss even harder to bear.
Resolved to do whatever he could to ease Gambit's mind, Logan reached the landing and approached the familiar wooden door. He paused, taking a deep breath, then raised his hand and knocked.
"Gumbo...it's me."
There was no answer. He knocked again, harder this time. The sound echoed down the empty hallway. With the other X-Men either recuperating from injuries or working through the battle's aftermath with the Professor, the whole mansion felt empty. Shifting his feet uncomfortably, Logan turned his attention back to the door in front of him.
"Gambit, open up."
He's in there...I smell 'im.
Wolverine turned the handle and found that it was unlocked. With one last glance around the desolate hallway, he opened the door and stepped into the tiny room. Instantly, a cold breeze enveloped him, stinging his unprepared eyes. Blinking back tears, he saw that the balcony doors were open and the white curtains danced in the wind. He went forward to close the offending ports but stopped when he glimpsed Gambit on the platform behind the fluttering fabric.
"Gambit. Hey..." he began cautiously.
If he jumps off again...
Wolverine pushed the flapping curtains out of his way and stood in the doorway, squinting at the bright, snowy landscape that greeted him. Gambit did not acknowledge his presence, but remained staring out at the white, rolling hills and evenly spaced evergreens with hands behind his back.
Logan took a tentative step onto the freezing stone with his bare feet. He stifled a shiver, and shifted from one foot to the other, looking for the appropriate words to address his friend.
What am I s'posed to do? Chat about the weather? Give 'im a hug?
Hesitantly, he started talking, letting every comforting thought he could come up with spill out at once.
"Gambit, I-I'm sorry about what happened. But...They had the upper hand. We weren't expectin' them. Besides, you were fightin' and runnin' like a madman. You did everything you coulda done and you did it good. You know that, right?" He hoped Gambit wouldn't answer that question. Still, his lack of response was disconcerting.
Maybe I shouldn't'a said anything at-
The Cajun slowly turned around, keeping his face to the ground. Almost mechanically, he leaned back against the railing and gripped it tightly. As the wind snatched at loose tendrils of chestnut hair, Wolverine could see that Gambit's eyes were shut tightly.
That can't be a good sign...
Wolverine shifted uneasily, still stumbling over the proper way to comfort Gambit.
"Gumbo...we're gonna find her. We ain't gonna let anything happen t'that pretty li'l girl. Besides, she was really brave during it all. I know she can take care of herself. Hell, she was on her own in that cold building for that long...she has better survival skills than me." Wolverine chuckled, hoping for some change of expression in Gambit. The Acadian remained motionless.
Why the hell ain't he talkin'! There's not much else I can say...
"Dammit, Cajun. C'mon. We will get 'er back. And when we meet up with that creep, Sabretooth, we can both-"
Gambit suddenly strode forward, closing the short distance between them. He tilted his head slightly and caught Wolverine's parted lips with his own. Logan's eyes widened and his body tensed as his heart skipped a beat. Gambit's warmth and spicy scent enveloped him, and he felt himself relaxing. His eyes started to close, but Gambit abruptly pulled away.
The two stared at each other for a long moment, Wolverine's mouth hanging open, Gambit's shoulders stiff and eyes unblinking. The wind howled and blew the curtains between them, but neither moved. It seemed they stood that way several minutes as Wolverine's thoughts tumbled wildly over one another. Unable to decide whether he was more shocked at Gambit's actions, his own reaction, or at his relative lack of shock altogether, he found himself incapable of turning from his companion's unyielding gaze.
A sharp pop of static awoke the two and Xavier's voice echoed throughout the complex. Wolverine blinked and broke the stare by turning toward the intercom.
"Attention, X-Men. A crucial meeting is being held in the War Room in ten minutes. I repeat, there is an emergency meeting being held in the War Room in ten minutes. Also, students, the school soccer game has been cancelled for tonight and will be rescheduled for next week sometime. That is all."
Hearing the end of Xavier's announcement, Logan sensed an escape. He began to walk toward the door, but the feel of eyes on his back stopped him. He glanced back at Gambit.
"Uh...we'd better get goin' to that meeting, huh? I'll..." Wolverine cleared his throat. "I'll see ya down there."
Wolverine left the room, closing the door behind him.
"Merde," Gambit mumbled under his breath.
"I think it is apparent that we have underestimated the determination of our enemy. Regarding the encounter earlier, it seems that Sinister and his associates are proceeding with more haste than previously anticipated. However, we still do not know what he is rushing for." Professor Xavier rubbed his chin thoughtfully and observed the five other X-Men sitting around the bare, circular table.
To the Professor's left perched Nightcrawler, tossing his tail from hand to hand anxiously, while at his other hand Beast was studiously scrawling in a notebook, glasses resting gently on the end of his blunt nose. Wolverine was slumped in his chair, arms crossed and gaze focused on the table, while Gambit opposite him reclined stiffly with his eyes on the ceiling. Jean Grey, sitting across from Xavier, had a perfect view of the whole charade, much to her discomfort. She saw every visual exchange that Wolverine and Gambit tossed at each other. The tension was stifling.
They played a tedious game of eye tag while the Professor spoke. Wolverine looked at Gambit from under his brow. As soon as Logan's gaze was redirected, Gambit's eyes switched to the older man. Logan turned back just in time to see Gambit move to regarding and adjusting his gloves. And when they finally caught each other's eyes, they both turned away so quickly Jean was sure she heard the air snap.
Jean tried with all her might to concentrate on Xavier, but the bickering mutants in her peripheral vision made it next to impossible.
Do they have any idea how childish they're being?
"But that is not what we're here to discuss," Xavier announced.
Jean forced herself to pay attention.
"Our number one priority right now is getting those children back. However, looking around, it goes without saying that we do not have the manpower to do so at this point in time. There is too much at risk to start a full-blown attack with a depleted team," Xavier said.
"Oh, now, now, Professor..." Beast mused.
"Ja, Professor, we can handle it!" Nightcrawler rasped.
Xavier shook his head.
"I don't doubt your capabilities, Kurt. I know each and every one of you would do whatever it takes to get those children back. But let us not forget that we are dealing with innocent lives, children's lives. We should only execute a plan of action when there is no doubt of success. I don't believe that just five is enough. Although, I do believe that some course of action should be taken immediately."
The mutants shifted in their chairs, the toneless creaking interrupting the anticipatory silence of the stark room. Xavier leaned forward.
"I want you five to go on a reconnaissance mission. You must scout the area of Sinister's hideout, but do not engage in any combat. This will require the utmost stealth. We need information," Xavier explained.
The team's exhaustion became more noticeable when they were ordered back out into the field. They sat again in stunned, uneasy silence for a few moments, pondering both the danger and the exigency of such a mission. The only sound in the room was the steady hum of the computers lining the otherwise bare metal walls. Xavier began to stir and Jean took it upon herself to break the silence.
"When would we leave, Professor?" she inquired.
"In just a few hours. Three o'clock this morning," Xavier replied.
Beast looked up from his notebook. "Where is this hideout located?"
Professor Xavier hesitated. "I'm still attempting to pinpoint an exact location. I received a lot of images from earlier and I'm trying to decipher them all. Nevertheless, I will discover where the lair resides. I can send the coordinates when you are all aboard the Blackbird."
Gambit licked his lips, his face a mask of desolation. Jean felt a twinge of pain inside as she recalled his instant and genuine affection for the last child. For Mia.
It must have hit him hard...
"Our current troop handicap has left us without a leader for the moment. Hank, how would you say Scott is recovering? Would he be able to accompany us tonight?"
"Incontrovertibly not, Professor. He won't be in any shape to fight for several days. Having said that, however, he is recovering."
Xavier grunted. "All right, then. We will need someone to lead this mission. Volunteers?"
The X-Men looked around at one another, seeing their own fatigue mirrored in dim eyes.
Gambit coughed softly and peered into the reflections on the table.
"Ah do it."
Logan slowly swiveled his head to face Gambit.
"Objections?" Xavier quickly glanced at the mutants. "Very well. Gambit will be taking point on this mission."
Gambit remained frozen, eyes glued to the table, as the other X-Men stared at him.
Xavier broke the silence once again. "Are there any questions? No? All right, then. Remember, stay in the shadows and tread softly. There is a lot at stake here. If the five of you are compromised, we may lose our last hope of recovering the children unharmed. I will contact you on the Blackbird. You have your mission, X-Men. Godspeed."
The Professor left the room, the whirring of his chair slowly fading down the corridor. Nightcrawler and Beast stood up, stretched and followed, engaged in conversation. After a moment, Wolverine slowly arose from his chair. He glanced at Jean and caught her eye. She gave him a questioning look, her eyes quickly darting in Gambit's direction. Wolverine glanced at Gambit, lowered his head, and walked to the door.
His footsteps eventually faded and Jean Grey stood up. She walked over to Gambit and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Gambit...what's go-"
"You betta go git some rest, chère," he interrupted flatly.
Jean dropped her hand to her side and sighed. Confused and angered, she turned and left the room. The automatic door sealed shut behind her, leaving the Cajun alone at his chair in the desolate War Room.
Wolverine found himself pacing the hallway outside his room, his conscience forbidding him to enter.
I have to say something to 'im. I shouldna jus' walked away like that.
But the more he considered what he needed to do, the more he wanted to simply slink into his room and pretend nothing had happened. Still, he couldn't just let the Cajun go on thinking he had done something wrong.
Heck, I've done crazier shit in my life than that. But I'm not crazy enough to lose my only friend over this. He's the only one here worth trustin'.
Wolverine stopped cold when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. He wasn't ready yet! His breath quickened as he saw the shadowy figure of Gambit materialize on the landing; he could only hope the Cajun would say something to make this easier for him.
Wolverine waited for a greeting or some sort of acknowledgement from the younger mutant, but none came. Gambit took the two paces to his door and turned the handle. In a frantic effort to keep his chance, Wolverine cleared his throat loudly. Gambit paused and turned to him.
Wolverine started when he saw the misery in Gambit's glowing eyes and the slump of his shoulders. This was hardly the mirthful young man he ate breakfast with every morning over tales of remarkable exploits. He more resembled the broken boy he comforted on that night when Nicholas... that night that seemed so long ago. Wolverine was overcome by the urge to embrace him as he did then, but he held back. There was no telling how the Cajun would respond this time.
With a sigh, Wolverine tried to lure Gambit into any sort of conversation. Anything to smooth the way for what he needed to say.
"So, yer gonna be the one callin' the shots tomorrow?"
Gambit raised his chin and fixed his slow, sad eyes on the older mutant.
Goddammit.
Wolverine furiously tried to swallow his frustration and figure out what was going through the Cajun's head. That kiss...he didn't even know if the Acadian playboy had meant it or not.
Did I want him to mean it?
I liked it.
What does he want to hear?
I don't want to lose him.
That I need him?
He's all I got.
He made a decision. He'd tell the truth, no matter how embarrassing or weak it may be. Finally resolute, he found his mouth had difficulty forming the words.
"Gambit, I..."
Loud voices and laughter interrupted his confession, and it took Wolverine a moment to realize Nightcrawler and Beast were mounting the stairs. He turned his eyes back to the Cajun and felt all his courage leave him. It was hard enough to say without an audience, but he had to say something to the young mutant looking at him as though he would fall to pieces any moment.
"Good luck tomorrow, kid."
Gambit seemed to deflate as he turned into his room, and Wolverine didn't fail to notice the disappointment in his eyes. He gave a vicious glare to the blue intruders and stalked into his room, slamming the door.
"Shit."
Wolverine sat up in his bed, still wearing the pants from his field uniform.
He stared out his window at the snowy landscape, glowing eerily blue beneath the pale moon. His alarm had gone off five minutes earlier, stirring him from a deep slumber. It was the first time he'd awoken to the buzzing in months. Normally, Cyclops knocked on the doors at some ungodly hour to ready the mutants for training. But Cyclops didn't come around today. Today was different. Today was the day to put that training to use.
Wolverine scratched his hair, still messy from the restless night. Throughout the night, he'd found himself constantly waking to the scene in the hallway and the tension he felt as Gambit's eyes burrowed into him. After mulling over the possibilities of what could have been said, he became angry at himself.
Why didn't I say anything!
He shook his head and looked at the alarm clock. 2:46 a.m. It would be time to go soon. He yawned and stretched, standing up. He walked over to the window and stared out at the sprawling lawn, covered with a thin layer of snow.
Scoutin' mission?
He scoffed aloud.
I'm gonna get that kid back. For Gambit. Ever since we lost her, he's been mopin' around everywhere, not smilin'...
A cloud passed over the moon, hiding the grey light that had filtered into the room.
It doesn't smell good today.
He looked around his room. The still air reminded him of...
...death.
A slight breeze from the window rustled his hair a bit and he shuddered. A board creaked in the hallway. He stared at the door, half-expecting some inane order from Cyclops, and already he was searching his mind for a generic comeback. But there was nothing. Once again, the board whined. Wolverine paced to the door, opening it quickly, and peeked out into the hall. It was completely deserted, right and left. He lowered his eyebrows and went back into his room with a grunt. The breeze from the window stopped. The cloud passed and the room returned to its cool, metallic color. He slowly looked around the room again, uneasily.
Weird...
He shook off his feelings of discomfort and picked up the rest of his uniform, thrown carelessly near his closet. Slowly he put the costume on, pausing briefly in the middle to yawn and rub his eyes. Finally, he grabbed the wrinkled mask from the floor. Holding the tightly, he left his room and walked down the stairs.
Jean knocked on the wooden door leading to Professor Charles Xavier's study.
"Come in," Xavier said, his voice muffled from the thick mahogany.
Jean twisted the knob and slowly opened the door, wincing at the prolonged whine of the old hinges.
Charles Xavier turned his wheelchair to greet her.
"Oh, Jean. I wasn't expecting you," he said, smiling.
"Yeah, right, Professor. You knew I was coming before I even thought about it," Jean responded, the hint of a smile quivering on her lips.
Xavier gave a soft chuckle. He adored Jean Grey; he considered her a daughter. Ever since he entered Jean's mind and saved her from catatonia all those years ago, he'd felt a paternal bond. Jean was also his first student. After tutoring her, Xavier discovered a love for assisting mutants in controlling and developing their powers. As the years passed, Jean had become more and more powerful. Constantly asking questions and ready to learn, Jean rose to the top in telekinetic ability, second only to the Professor himself. He couldn't have been prouder of her.
"What can I do for you, Jean?" he asked.
"Professor, I saw Gambit in the hangar earlier. He was sitting on top of the Blackbird, just looking out the window. He seemed...have you noticed a change in his behavior?"
Jean considered Xavier a father. He was the only person in the world to help her when she was young; the only person in the world with the ability to help her. She studied extensively one-on-one with Xavier and absorbed every bit of information presented to her; she felt eternally in debt to him for teaching her how to broaden her mutant powers, but the Professor would never ask for payment. Xavier was her idol.
The Professor nodded. "I have, Jean. I'm not completely sure why, but I believe it has something to do with the child that we lost. However...I would guess that there is another conflict within him, as well." Xavier stroked his chin, staring fixedly at his desk. He snapped out of his daze. "Well, with any luck, we'll have the girl in our possession by nightfall. Perhaps even by this afternoon. But..." He trailed off.
Jean lowered her eyebrows. "What is it, Professor?"
"Jean, I..." He wheeled his way to her side. "I need you to be alert once we depart. I need you to be ready to take control at a moment's notice. If anything should go wrong-"
"Professor," Jean cut him off. "We're just going in to scout first. We'll see what we can see and then we'll discuss action."
"Yes." The Professor nodded. "Yes, you're absolutely right. However...I feel..." Xavier stared out of a nearby window.
She had never seen him like this.
Something's wrong here.
She placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Professor...what's the matter?" Jean asked tentatively. Xavier had always been calm and confident. She had never seen an open expression of doubt from him.
"I, I sense something... I'm not sure what. Jean, just promise me you'll be alert today. It may be nothing at all, but I feel...uneasy." He shook his head and smiled. "Oh, I'm sure it's nothing. It will be fine." He grabbed her hand, stroking it. Xavier glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room. It read 2:46. "You'll be departing soon. You should get ready. Just keep your guard up. You're the X-Men. You'll be fine. I, on the other hand, must get ready for a meeting in Washington starting at 7:00. It's the preliminary hearing for the Anti-Mutant Marriage Law and I will fight this absurdity with every fiber in my body. Discrimination against evolution and the natural feelings of love is outright absurdity. Anyway, I'll see you all this afternoon. Good luck."
Xavier's small doubts had rubbed off on Jean, casting a gloom on her usual optimism.
We were the X-Men when we were fighting earlier, too.
Jean stared down at the man and nodded. "Ok, Professor." She bent over and kissed Xavier on the cheek, unable to shake the cold dread filling her being. She could not sense what Xaiver was referring to, but she would never doubt his perceptions.
With a departing smile, Jean Grey walked toward the door, repeating Xavier's words the whole way.
It will be fine. It will be fine. It will be fine. It will be fine. It will be fine.
"And after this one cycles through once more, you can leave it be. It's automatic, administering the proper dosage every fifteen, twenty minutes," Beast explained to Storm, pointing to a machine connected to Cyclops' IV.
Storm had heard about the upcoming mission from Beast just minutes before and volunteered to watch over the infirmary for him. Since she was still not in top form, Storm seemed to be the perfect candidate to keep an eye on Cyclops and Rogue, who was still unconscious. As well as Bobby, who was milking his injured leg for all it was worth. Since being confined to the infirmary bed mere hours earlier, the young mutants had scored himself a 22" TV, a DVD player, an enormous stereo system, piles of CDs and Penthouse magazines -all donations from annoyed teammates looking for peace and quiet- in addition to a (grudging) promise from an intermittently lucid Scott to get the keys to the McLaren for an hour as soon as he could drive again. Out of exasperation rather than medical integrity Beast permitted Bobby to keep all the toys at his bedside.
Storm's help would allow Beast to aid in the reconnaissance mission.
The soft, repetitious beeping from Scott's heart monitor kept the two informed of his condition. Beast had explained which fluctuations were normal and which weren't. Storm nodded, constantly acknowledging every minute instruction from the ardent doctor.
"You can run diagnostics by pushing-"
"This one here?" Storm asked, pointing to a glowing green button.
"Yes, that's the one. You seem to be catching on rather quickly." Beast exposed a toothy grin.
"Well, you've been teaching me, Hank. You've shown me many things over time. I have to thank you for that," she said.
Beast was slightly shaken by Storm's fervent gratitude, but he quickly recovered and chuckled softly. "As Julius Cesar once said, 'Experience is the teacher of all things'. You'll get plenty of practice today."
Beast placed a pair of scalpels in a drawer beneath the counter. "In all honesty, we will probably be back before lunch. We are only going in to have a quick look around, if I understood correctly."
Storm looked over at Cyclops, lying on the stretcher. "So, how is he really doing?"
"Hm?" Beast looked over his shoulder at her. "Oh, he's...stable. Of course, he's unconscious, so don't jostle him. Still has an aggravated trachea. You'll hear him coughing from time to time. Nothing you can really do about it. Obviously, he can't drink. That's why he is attached to the intravenous line. Let's see...he's still suffering from a high fever. Last time I checked, the thermometer read 39.5 degrees Celsius..." Beast executed a quick calculation in his head. "About 103 degrees Fahrenheit."
"Should I lay a cool cloth on his head periodically?" Storm asked.
"That would be marvelous," Beast responded. "Oh! That reminds me." Beast walked over to the counter and picked up a clipboard. "Every twenty or so minutes, would you be good enough to continue this log of Cyclops' body temperature? All you have to do is write down the time and look at the thermometer." He picked up a pencil from the counter and glanced up at a wall clock. "Right now it's 2:47 a.m. and his temperature is...what did I say? 39.5 degrees Celsius?" He wrote the number down.
"Of course I can," Storm responded coolly.
He walked over to Storm. "Mainly, you just need to keep an eye on him. If something does happen, say he goes into cardiac arrest or respiration ceases, then the paddles are behind the bed, as you know. We've been over it. I'm sure nothing will happen, though. He's been lying there like a stone for the past few hours. But, I trust you in case of an emergency, Storm." He placed a hand on her shoulder.
"I'd never let you down, Hank."
Beast smiled. "All right, then." He looked around the lab once more. "I believe that's everything. Do you have any questions?"
"No. I don't believe so," Storm responded.
"Fantastic. Well, then, we'll be taking off in a few minutes. The house is all yours," Beast stated.
Storm smiled. "Wonderful. Good luck, this morning."
"Thank you, Storm. Goodbye," Beast said as he walked toward the door.
"Bye." Storm grinned as she waved.
At 2:54 a.m., the X-Men entered the Blackbird. One by one, they filed in and found a seat. Beast and Jean Grey sat in the cockpit, punching buttons. Gambit was the last mutant to enter. He looked around the interior quickly, noticing Nightcrawler sitting in a chair and Wolverine standing in the back of the jet, arms crossed, looking out of a small window. Gambit sat down opposite Nightcrawler, reached into his pocket and brought out a single card, which he continually threw back and forth in his gloved hands.
At the front of the jet, Jean asked "Do you remember how to fly this thing, Doctor?"
"It's been quite some time, but I believe I can manage. That is, once I discover how to turn it on..." With a swift hand, Beast punched several glowing buttons. The engine roared to life, powerful yet quiet. "Ah. That would be it."
She chuckled and rose from her chair. Jean walked down the aisle and sat next to Kurt, fastening her belt. Nightcrawler edged forward, looking past Jean, studying Gambit's aloof attitude. He casually peered behind him at Logan, still staring out the window at the cold, metal walls of the hangar.
"Is everything gut here?" he whispered to Jean.
"I'm not sure. They've been moping around lately. Let's just let it be for now," she quietly replied.
"Okay." Nightcrawler nodded.
At the front of the plane, Beast was frantically pushing buttons and flipping switches. Abruptly, he stopped, leaning back in his chair, the springs giving a soft creak.
"All right. I'm just waiting for the Professor to send us the exact coordinates and then we'll take off. It shouldn't be too long," Beast announced.
The sixty seconds it took for the coordinates to arrive seemed like hours. The tension between the mutants could have been cut with a knife. Jean uneasily shifted her weight in her seat, praying for the directions to arrive soon.
A beep emanated from the front of the jet.
Xavier's voice erupted from a speaker towards the back of the Blackbird.
"I apologize for the delay, but I had to be certain of this location. But this is it. Now remember, this is a reconnaissance mission. No fighting unless it is absolutely necessary. Scout the area, look for entrances into the facility and, if possible, discover the location of the children. Good luck, X-Men."
Beast looked at a small screen on the control panel.
"Here we are. We are heading to Arethusa Falls, near Livermore, New Hampshire. The facility is located about an eighth of a mile from the waterfall. Is everyone ready?"
Nightcrawler was the only one who replied verbally. Jean nodded.
"Okay, then. Here we go!"
Through the front windows of the Blackbird, the hangar doors parted, sending a loud roar echoing throughout the room. With a soft hum, the jet lifted from the ground, sailing slowly to the exposed, cloudless night sky. Once clear of the doors, the jet maneuvered itself to face east and then it sped through the atmosphere, silver moonlight reflecting off of the metal.
"ETA twelve minutes," Beast shouted to the crew.
Again, silence ensued.
Gambit continued to fiddle with his card, while Wolverine tinkered with his claws.
Jean Grey couldn't stand the awkwardness any longer.
"Hey, Gambit, when we get back, why don't we all play a game of Bour...Ber..."
"Bourée, chère," Gambit responded, turning toward her. He put his card back in his pocket. Jean hoped Gambit was starting to warm up. But instead, he simply crossed his legs and stared at the back of the chair in front of him.
Wolverine glanced at Gambit midway into the flight, trying to appear casual. Gambit wiped his right eye, leaving a faint trail of shimmering liquid on his cheek, and Logan's heart skipped a beat, but he turned and looked back out the window before Gambit could catch him staring.
The Blackbird jolted slightly, forcing Wolverine to reach out for the wall to keep his balance.
"Sorry," Beast called. "Jean, could you hit the stabilizer, please?"
Jean rose from her seat and returned to the control panel, scanning the numerous buttons and coming up empty.
"Um...I'm sorry, which is the...? I don't do the flying around here. It's all new to me," Jean replied, smiling.
Beast chuckled. "I believe it is a red...yes, it's the one by your right hand. Just push it, if you would be so kind. Thank you."
She did and the tilted jet corrected itself.
"We're almost at our destination. You can see it now if you look out the right of the Blackbird," Beast said.
Nightcrawler unfastened his seatbelt and walked to the cockpit, standing behind Beast and Jean. Wolverine peered out of the small window next to him and saw the roaring waterfall.
"So, that's Arethusa Falls? Wunderschön." Nightcrawler hissed.
"That's it. The largest waterfall in the state. Approximately 200 feet of falling water. And what is our altitude?" He eyed the altimeter. "Its peak is approximately two miles from the ground. Amazing."
The others stared, fixated by the falling water. The water, still not frozen from the cooling temperature, pooled at the bottom, expelling mist into the air.
"But our objective should be visible, as well. Everyone search toward the north," Beast instructed.
The snow, lit by the pale moon, acquired a silverish-blue hue, almost masking the old, grey facility, set up in a clearing, about 650 feet north of the Falls. Icicles hung from the roof of the old, metal building. A single, naked light bulb was turned on near the metal door. There was no visible action on the premises.
"That would be it," Beast said.
"That?" asked Jean. "Isn't it kind of small?"
"The facility actually extends several floors beneath the surface according to the Professor," Beast informed them. "It used to house copper, lead and zinc, but it was abandoned fifteen years ago, when the minerals started to become scarce in the vicinity."
He pointed to an open area between the facility and the waterfall. "That looks like an ideal spot to touch down."
As the Blackbird slowly and silently descended, Gambit stood up and brushed himself off, squaring his shoulders with determination. He was ready to get little Mia back. It was all he needed to think about. He clenched his fists.
"And remember everyone," Beast said, "as Charles Lamb once said, 'The greatest pleasure I know, is to do a good action by stealth, and to have it found out by accident'."
The Blackbird quietly landed, sending up a plume of powdery snow and the engine died.
The ramp descended, burying itself in the three inches of snow, and the X-Men cautiously exited the craft. Gambit was the first out, squinting his eyes as snow flakes blew past in the wind. Without preamble he sprinted the short distance to the chain-link fence surrounding the ominous compound the Professor had defined as Sinister's stronghold. It was nestled in the bottom of a shallow canyon, a tiny plateau surrounded on three sides by steep slopes, and on the fourth by a drop-off to the river some hundred feet below.The building itself resembled a decrepit schoolhouse: windows ringed the sides, though few had glass and most were boarded, and the red bricks were decaying so badly a portion of the rear of the facility had collapsed. Though, rather than frolicking children, large metal crates of indeterminable usage littered the grounds, and the front door was a thick and menacing steel affair.
Gambit waved for the others to join him.
Beast stepped into the snow, shivering.
"Oh, this was most unwise. I don't even have footwear, let alone pants."
In a cloud of acrid smoke, Nightcrawler appeared next to them, crouching to avoid the biting wind.
Wolverine scanned the perimeterwarily, his nose twitching. The full moon gave offa soft glow, bathing the landscape in white light, and errant snowflakes brushed Logan's skin and melted on his cheek. He sniffed again and with a grunt, he covered the short distance and regrouped with the others.
He looked over at Gambit and noticed the lack of expression on his face. His usual flaming red eyes were lifeless and his mouth was down-turned.
"We gotta jump da' fence," Gambit declared in a whisper.
"Cajun, don'tcha think yer takin' this too fast? Ya haven't even checked the area," Wolverine hissed.
"Der ain't nothin' dere. I's fine. Lez go."
Gambit gracefully hopped over the fence, brown coat flapping behind him. He landed in the snow withouta sound and sprinted to a nearby pile of crates.
One by one, the mutants jumped the fence, and took cover behind the boxes.
"Bon. Okay, c'mon."
Gambit turned toward the building, but Wolverinegrabbed his coat sleeve and held his wrist tightly.
"Cajun, stop! We can't keep chargin' up like this. This is an important mission. Ya ain't thinkin' clearly." Wolverine lowered his voice. "If it's about earlier..."
"I's fine, Logan! Dere ain't nothin' out 'ere!" He shook Wolverine's arm away. "Okay, c'mon e'ybody." He took off running toward the small building. Jean, Beast, and Nightcrawler followed closely behind, however Wolverine stayed behind the crates.
Why's he want to get there so fast? Cajun knows better than t'charge blindly. Hell, he's a thief.
Nightcrawler turned back.
"Psst, Wolverine."
Wolverine nodded and ran to join him. Theycaught up withthe other X-Men on the side of the building, flattening themselves against the red bricks.
Gambit rounded the corner and saw the entrance, large enough for even the burliest custodian to walk through, mop held aloft.
"Wolverine," he whispered, waving his hand.
Logan approached the door and rested his hand on the heavy metal handle.
Gambit reached into his coat pocket and pulled out an Ace of Hearts.
"Trois."
Nightcrawler teleported onto the roof.
"Deux."
Wolverine tightened his grip.
"U-"
The metal door burst outward, hinges flying through the air, sending Wolverine propelling backward. He crashed into the snow, sliding into the cold metal of a crate.
Sabretooth emerged from the doorway, grinningferociously.
"Mornin', everyone. Took you long enough to get here."
Expectin' us?
Wolverine jumped up from the snow, unsheathing his claws.
"Oh, ready for another go, old man?" Sabretooth cracked his knuckles. "I've been waitin' all night for this." The savage mutant roared and charged.
Logan jumped out of the rampagingmutant's path and watched with grim amusement as Sabretooth skidded to a stop and turned around for a second run. Beast intercepted his path from the left, slamming into the behemoth with a grunt, and the furry pair hurtled to the ground. Beast landed on top, but Sabretooth kicked him into the air before he could catch his breath. Luckily, the blue mutant landed gracefully on his feet.
Nightcrawler closed his eyes, concentrating, and vanished from the roof, appearing on Sabretooth's left shoulder. Knowing the immense difference in strengthKurt resorted tograbbing the mutant's mane and tugging. Sabretooth shrieked and batted his arms wildly, trying to hit the X-Man. Jean Grey ran at the preoccupied villain and kicked him in the gutsending him to the ground. Beast climbed on top of a stack of steel crates and gracefully leapt to join Kurt on top of Sabretooth.
Gambit pulled a card out of his coat. "Henri, Ni'crawla', 'eads up!"
The glowing card cut through the air. Beast and Nightcrawler jumped off of the mutant as the card made contact. A red explosion engulfed Sabretooth, who fell over backwards, coughing in the smoke.
Jean closed her eyes and, with careful concentration, lifted one of the metal crates into the air. The shadow hovered over Sabretooth. He opened his eyes and gasped.
"Nooooo!"
Jean dropped the crate and it slammed into the ground, powdery snow exploding around it.
The X-Men stood in shaken silence, panting and wary. They relaxed slightly when further enemies failed to appear. The mood was shattered, however, by the sound of ironic clapping.
Standing in the vacant doorway, under the harsh glow of the naked bulb, was Sinister.
"Well done. Well done," he hissed through his toothy grin.
Wolverine held his breath.
Can't get much better than this...
The X-Men clustered together.
"Very impressive," Sinister rasped. He took a massive step forward, his boot crunching in the snow.
"Guys..." Jean hissed under her breath.
Wolverine nodded. "On three," he replied.
Sinister approached even closer.
"Three!"
The X-Men spun around, scrambled up the gentle slope, and jumped over the fence. They landed on the opposite side almost in unisonand began racing toward the idle Blackbird. Behind them Sinister began to laugh.
"Run, little X-Men! Run!" he chortled.
The frantic, crunching footsteps echoed through the canyon as the X-Men drew closer to the jet, their breath expelling in wispy plumes.
Almost there...
Suddenly, the massive, meaty thigh of Blockbuster slammed down in front of them, blanketing the mutants in a layer of freezing snow. The X-Men skidded to a stop. Blockbuster shook his head from side to side.
Sinister's maniacal howling ceased and he once again began his approach. At the fence, he lifted a handle and pushed open a section of fencing.
"Oh, come now. Even we mutants are civilized enough to use doors." Sinister closed and locked it behind himcontinuing his menacing march toward the disoriented mutants, his twisted smile growing larger with every step.
Sinister finally arrived and stood next to Blockbuster, whose rasping breath seemed to shake the ground.
As a group, the X-Men began to slowly back away from the two Marauders, edging closer to the roar of Arethusa Falls. Nightcrawler's heel teetered over the edge and after fighting for balance, he toppled over, falling down the rocky chasm. Instantly, in a puff of smoke, he teleported back to the cliff with the rest of the group.
"Halt!" he yelled.
The X-Men stopped their backward approach at the edge. The overpowering scream of the waterfall was almost deafening, as hundreds of gallons of water crashed down the two hundred foot dropevery second.
Sinister stopped in front of them, peering at each one, studying their faces. Lastly, his eyes rested upon Gambit.
"Well, Gambit," Sinister began. "It took you long enough to arrive, but I suppose I should thank you for at least getting the job done."
Gambit's eyes widened and his mouth dropped.
Wolverine glanced at him guardedly.
What...?
"Now that I have the X-Men, there will be no opposition. Freedom to kidnap whomever I wish. But I couldn't have done it without your help, Gambit. The information you provided was essential. I find myself in your debt. Again"
The Cajun! The spy...
Jean turned to Gambit. She tried to see his face, but the high collar of his jacket hid him from view.
"Gambit?"
The Cajun didn't move.
How could he do this?
"Why, yes. 'Gambit'. Honestly, I'm baffled that not one of you came to that conclusion after what happened earlier..." Sinister said, grinning.
That little Cajun rat...
"Wie? What do you mean?" Nightcrawler hissed.
He was playin' us all along...
Sinister chuckled. "Not very perceptive, are we? Perhaps you were too preoccupied with my Marauders to notice your friend candidly giving the girl to Sabretooth."
Blockbuster smiled.
Gambit stared at Sinister, but made no move to contradict him.
Sinister began talking again, but Wolverine was too caught up in his thoughts to hear any of it.
...He was playin' me!
Unsheathing his claws, Wolverine screamed as loudly as he could, louder than the rushing water.
Sinister abruptly stopped talking and watched as Logan darted past him.
Gambit simply stared at the raging mutant, eyes focused on the moonlight reflecting off of the Adamantium claws.
Jean and Beast yelled at Wolverine to stop, but he was too deafened with angerto hear.
Gambit attempted too lateto jump out of the way as Wolverine's clawed hand swung past him. The Cajun gasped and his eyes widened. He brought his hand down to his chest where a single, bloody gash was cut into his chest.
Gambit's breath rushed out of his lungs and his feet slid in the slippery snow as he stumbled. Suddenly, he began to sway, swinging his arms for balance. The heels of his boots were held freely above the 200-foot drop of Arethusa Falls.
As Gambit fell backward, he reached out, grabbing for Wolverine, but his hands were too far away. The Cajun made no sound as he fell and disappeared into the white foam at the bottom of the waterfall.
Wolverine's rigid face slowly relaxed as the mutant vanished from sight. He stood, looking down the cliff face for a moment, breathing hard.
The hint of a smirk formed at the corners of Sinister's lips.
Jean Grey stood motionless, stupefied by the events. Wolverine turned to look at her, and she caught his gaze. He quickly looked away, attempting to hide the tears forming in his eyes as his legs collapsed beneath him.
Jean turned around and was reminded that Sinister was still standing behind them. She looked past him and saw the Blackbird, an easy escape. She placed her right hand on her temple.
Wolverine onlyvaguely heard Jean Grey's mentally projected words in his head.
Everyone, we need to make a break for the Blackbird, now! Beast, you're going to have to grab Logan.
Wolverine immediately felt the warm hands of Beast scoop him up, but he suddenly felt too exhausted to protest. The mutants quickly ran past Sinister and Blockbuster.
Wolverine watched as the distance to the cliff rapidly grew. The sound of the gurgling falls grew quieter.
Blockbuster grunted and spun toward the fleeing mutants, but Sinister slammed a hand on his shoulder.
"Let them go."
After the X-Men entered, the ramp descended and the engines roared to life. The clearing was lit with bright, white light as the jet rose and took off.
Sinister brushed snowflakes off of his sleeves.
"And then there were four."
He spun around and walked back to the facility, his boots crunching in the snow. Blockbuster followed closely behind.
The two figures disappeared into the early morning haze.
Gambit splashed into the white foam at the bottom of the screaming waterfall. His body was plunged underneath the surf and he gasped as the freezing water engulfed him. He opened his eyes, seeing only blackness. Eventually, Gambit hit the bottom and his right calf was cut on a jagged rock. The weight of his clothing pulled him down even further, but he struggled to resurface. Using his arms and his legs for all they were worth, he paddled upwards.
The Cajun gasped for breath as his head emerged from the frigid water. He strained himself to keep his balance as the swirling rapids pushed him downstream, away from the mouth of Arethusa Falls. He was pushed around a rocky corner and down a slight decline.
Mon Dieu...
The approaching section of the river was filled with enormous, jagged boulders, resting peacefully in the substrate, and Gambit was hurtling toward them. He managed to dodge the first two rocks, paddling to the left as they neared. However, the next stone caught his right arm, tearing through the brown fabric and skin. Gambit winced in pain, but willed himself to employ the injured limb to avoid the next two rocks.
He rounded another bend and gasped in horror at what he saw. A grey boulder rose six feet out of the water and took up half the length of the river. The water crashed around its edges with a deafening roar. The Cajun strove to swim away from encrusted slab of earth, but the current drew him directly towards it.
Gambit slammed into the giant rock, and the world turned to black.
He woke up coughing, streams of water pouring out of his lungs. He choked on the water, sat up, and vomited. Gambit wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked around. The river had turned into a small stream. Two-inches of clear water gently babbled over the red and brown stones that made up the streambed where Gambit sat. The crashing of the mighty Arethusa Falls could only faintly be heard in the distance now, accompanied by the quiet howl of the wind. Gambit's chin began to tremble as his teeth clicked together.
I got t'get outta dis wata'...
The mutant slowly stood up, yelping in pain as his weight rested on his injured right leg. He fell back down and looked at his calf. Parting the ripped fabric, he saw a piece of rock embedded in his flesh. He closed his eyes and grabbed the stone. With teeth clinched, he yanked the shard out of his leg, stifling a whimper though there was no one to hear him. Gambit brought the rock to his face and saw that his blood blanketed less than half an inch of it.
It not so bad...
He dipped his hand into the frigid water and dripped some onto the wound.
Again, Gambit willed himself to his feet, wobbling. After gaining his footing and ignoring the throbbing pain in his legs, he walked to the grassy bank. The seven steps it took to reach the grass wore him out entirely. He sat back down, panting. He held his head back and looked up at the twinkling stars situated in the night sky.
Logan pushed me over...His face, it was so...hurt...Ah hurt 'im. Me. All 'cause of tha' damn kiss! He was mopin' around ever since den...I's all my fault! An' Ah din't get 'da girl. Sinister was right...Ah couln't save 'er...my fault...
Gambit hung his head and began to weep quietly, his shoulders bobbing with each whimper. The Cajun felt the tears on his cheek cool rapidly in the frigid air and he wiped them away.
Okay. Ah gotta get back to da mansion. Ah'm gon' get my t'ings. An' leave fo' good.
Once again, Gambit attempted to pull himself off of the ground and stand up. The injury to his leg and his exhaustion caused him to fall back down, and the emotional trauma, seeing Wolverine's scowling face every two seconds, took away his will to keep trying.
Ah...ah can't do it...Ah too tired...
Gambit brushed the tops of the blades of grass with his hand.
Ah don't know 'ow Ah'm ever gon' make it back...
After they returned to the Xavier mansion, the X-Men searched through it for the Professor, wanting to report what had happened. After a frantic and unnerving exploration, they found the Professor lying on the floor of the War Room in front of his computer. Beast took him to the infirmary and noticed that Storm, who had vowed to stay in the infirmary and watch over the injured mutants, was gone. Beast planned to place the Professor on the counter, due to the lack of empty beds, but was surprised by the presence of a free bed next to Cyclops. Rogue was gone as well.
Eventually, to the relief of the X-Men, the Professor woke up. He explained the events leading up to his loss of consciousness. He had been working at the War Room computer when a shadow fell across the screen. He had turned to look, but had been struck before he could register the face of his assailant.
As the X-Men combed the War Room, searching for any signs leading to the identity of the attacker, Storm entered the room behind them. A pallid and disheveled Storm who fell into a nearby chair as the X-Men rushed over to her, confused and curious.
Storm explained that after their attempt to save the third child, the Marauders had captured her. They had sent their shape-shifting mutant, Mystique, to pose as Storm and the X-Men carried her back to the mansion. Storm was taken back to the Marauders hideout, tied up and drugged until, not an hour ago, Sinister had approached her and simply let her go, claiming she was no longer needed. Storm used every ounce of her remaining strength to soar back to the Institute.
The ruse seemed obvious enough. Mystique had waited patiently in the infirmary, disguised right under the X-Men's noses, until she could awake and freely explore the mansion. The previous mission had cleared the Xavier Institute of any able-bodied X-Men, and Mystique was free to take her prize: the helpless body of her daughter.
Beast walked over to the War Room's computers in order to check the surveillance cameras. When he tried to log in, however, the system shut down. After a quick look at the mainframe, Beast concluded that Mystique had placed a virus in the computer, and had quite possibly accessed the classified data kept there as well. Beast would have to reconfigure the entire system to get it back up and running. He didn't know how long it would take.
Xavier stated that he would use Cerebro in an attempt to learn the location of Rogue and her captor. He entered the empty, sterile room and wheeled down the walkway. The Professor lifted the helmet and gasped in shock as he discovered that the cables connecting the helmet to the machine were severed and the rest of the circuitry was mangled horribly. Xavier instructed Jean to contact Forge to help with the repair of Cerebro.
Wolverine decided to track Mystique's scent, typically neglecting to tell anyone. Logan hopped onto his motorcycle and left the garage, immediately picking up the shape-shifter's trail, as well as the familiar aroma of Rogue along with it.
After a couple hours, it dawned on Beast to tell the Professor of the incidents at Arethusa Falls. Xavier was distraught and suggested a search party be constructed; however, Beast explained how much work was to be done at the mansion. Cerebro needed to be fixed, the computer system needed to be restored, and the patients in the infirmary needed to be cared for. So, Xavier suggested that Nightcrawler take the smaller, two-seater aircraft, The Raven, out and look for him. The German scampered to the hangar and took off.
Forge arrived at the Xavier Mansion and was lead to Cerebro. He whistled in surprise when he glimpsed the intricate workings of the machine and said that he would need some help in attempting a repair. Jean gladly volunteered.
Nightcrawler returned later that morning with no news to report, then relieved Beast in the infirmary so the doctor could return to the disaster that was the Institute's computer.
Wolverine followed Mystique's scent all morning but gave up after losing it five miles west of the mansion. He decided that he needed a drink. However, no bar was open that early in the morning. On his way back to the mansion, he stopped in at a supermarket and picked up a six-pack of beer. Logan walked out into the empty parking lot, sat down on a car-stop in one of the stalls, and drank it all. Then he went back in and bought more.
The X-Men were so preoccupied with the chaotic repairs that they didn't notice they were all starving until late that afternoon. Within an hour five large pizzas showed up at the door.
At one point, Beast called the mutants over to the computer, saying that he believed he was about to fix the problem. A moment later, though, the screen faded to black, and Beast apologized.
Logan walked into the mansion in the early evening and went up to his room. Jean called out to him from the kitchen as she cleaned up the pizza boxes, but he did not acknowledge her.
Evening became night and the X-Men made little progress. Tired and stressed, Forge, Jean, and Nightcrawler decided to turn in. Beast, however, wiped his eyes and said that he would work through the night. They all commended him and wished him luck.
Wolverine rubbed his temples as he recollected the events of the past 16 hours.
He sat on his bed in the darkness, head hanging limply between his knees. As a wave of dizziness overcame him, he fell backward onto his pillow. He wasn't sure if it was Gambit or the beer, but his head had been pounding for an hour and he was very tired. Wolverine stared up at the blackened ceiling and sighed.
A knock at the door sent a stabbing pain through his skull.
"Logan? It's Jean. Can I come in?" a suppressed voice called from behind the door.
Wolverine sighed. "Yup."
The knob turned and the door opened, spilling yellow light from the hall into the room. Logan closed his eyes and grimaced.
Jean walked over to Wolverine's bed and sat down on the end.
"Logan? What's wrong? What's going on?" Jean asked.
Wolverine didn't move.
"Logan, first you and Gambit were inseparable. Then you stopped talking to each other. And now you...and now this. Something is going on here. I want to know what it is! What has happened between you two!"
Wolverine sat up and looked her in the eye, trying to get her to back off. She didn't take the hint.
"Logan...you can trust me. Just tell me..."
He did trust Jean on the battlefield, but this was different. Still, it would be nice to talk to someone. His own thoughts weren't sorting themselves out well at all.
Wolverine cleared his throat. "He...One time he..." Wolverine tilted his head to the side and looked at the floor. "Jean...He...c'mon..."
Jean Grey stared at him, silently urging him to continue.
"Hekissedme."
Wolverine's quick, jumbled response was difficult to decipher, but Jean managed it.
"Oh. Oh, I see." Jean complimented herself on her accurate instincts.
"And now, after what Sinister said...It's like he was toyin' with me!"
Jean sat and listened patiently.
"But it felt so real when he did it! And we were gettin' along before that! And that kid! You saw Gambit's face after we lost the kid, right? That seemed real, too! And when Sinister accused 'im! You see his face then?"
"Then, why did you...?"
"Because I...Sinister...Well, what if Sinister's right?"
Tears formed at the corners of Wolverine's eyes, sparkling in the dim light. He dropped his head between his knees, and Jean put her head on his shoulder, wrapping her arms around him.
"Logan? Do you think Sinister's right? Do you think Gambit is a traitor?"
Wolverine looked down at the carpeted floor. The image of Gambit's smiling face while he talked about his childhood over dinner formed in Wolverine's head. The sound of Gambit's muffled giggling, when Logan stubbed his toe and spilled the juice, resonated in Wolverine's ears. The feeling of Gambit's kiss replayed across Wolverine's lips.
Wolverine sat up.
"No..."
A faint grin formed at the corners of Jean's mouth.
"No, I don't."
"Do you think he truly betrayed you?"
"No, I don't!" Wolverine said, voice suddenly rising.
Jean leaned close to his ear.
"Then go," she whispered. "Go and find him. Get him back."
Logan sprung up from the bed and ran to the door. He stopped and turned around.
"Thank you, Jeanny."
Jean Grey smiled and nodded back.
Wolverine disappeared.
Gambit carefully lowered himself to the sidewalk and handed the driver a slightly soggy wad of bills. With a soft groan, he heaved the door shut and began walking the remaining two blocks to the Institute. Watching his surroundings carefully, he cautiously entered the mansion grounds and waited for the opportune moment to slip inside.