Chapter 3
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
John breathed in.
The smell was different, nothing like the damp musky cave, and nothing like the horrid smell that permeated everything in his dream.
He nearly cried out as something jolted him. His ribs protesting as they banged against something hard, a shoulder.
Somebody was carrying him. Having flung his body haphazardly over their shoulder. He finally was able to crack one eye, and through the matted orange hair looked at the upside down image of someone's back.
He tried to say something, but currently couldn't muster up enough brain-power as he came out of unconsciousness. But he smelled something, something like cigars and beer.
'Remy?' John thought. On occasion he smoked like a freight train, and on more occasions drank like a sailor. It was, it had to be Remy.
John finally mustered up enough strength to lift his dangling arms and wrap them tightly around the figure carrying him. He didn't care how an up-side down backwards hug looked. He was just glad he, and at least one member of the former Acolytes, was alive.
Logan tensed as he 'hugged' by the fire ant. He growled and almost threw him to the ground.
"Remy... Glad to see you alive mate..." John finally managed to call out.
A new sound hit John's ears as the figure carrying him stopped walking. A low growl reverberated out his savior, and just one thought rang through John's head as he realized his carrier was defiantly not the Cajun.
"Oh Shi..."
Another low growl.
"You got that right, bub." Logan said, lowering his shoulder and leaving the Aussie on the ground in an unconventional heap.
Wanda just continued to walk in silence letting Kitty help her along the way. She didn't want the help and as much as she hated to admit it she needed the help. She hated being weak. It was so degrading.
She was so sore, and she hurt in places she didn't even know existed. What she would give for Advil, or a nice long hot bath. She couldn't take baths at the Brother Hood house, cause they only had a stand up shower. And even if they had a tub, she wouldn't trust setting one foot in there.
Keeping her gaze mainly to the ground, her head managed to snap up at the sound of Wolverine growling at something. She tensed. Was someone coming?
Then she saw the odd image of Pyro clinging to Logan's middle and she relaxed a bit. Cringing slightly when she saw him hit the ground, Wanda maintained her stone face. Not letting any of her emotions show there, but she wanted to scream. For an unknown reason she just wanted to scream.
John hit the ground, cringing in pain as the impact sent his injuries into overdrive, and alerted him to ones he didn't even realize he had.
He took his time breathing. Every time his chest expanded drawing in the clean air the mussels in his back felt like they were tearing. He tried to stand, but doubted anyone noticed the failed effort.
Kitty and Wanda just looked down at him, and his head hurt too much to move and see if Logan had just continued walking after dropping him, which he suspected was true.
"Little help?" He asked, trying to make light of the fact that he could barely move.
Kitty winced as well at Logan dropping John. It was something she would really expect from Logan, but it still seemed insensitive. As they approached John, he asked for help. Kitty made a face, unsure of if she could do something or not.
Wanda watched as John called out for help. A small, very small
part of her felt sorry for him. Okay she lied, she felt sorry for him.
He looked worse then Toad did after she Hex'd him into a wall. It was a
sad sight to see. And yet she kept on her slowly going way. But it was
only a matter of time before one of them helped him up. It wasn't going
to be her though. She didn't even like getting help so why would she give
it? Exactly, there was no good reason for her to
help him when she could barely help herself.
John winced as Wanda walked past him, and thanked whatever powers that be for the fact that she didn't deem it necessary to kick him while he was down, literally.
And yet, there it was. The guilt. The fact that she had been careless in the cave. The fact that she had been distracted and he needed to help her out. She didn't ask for it though, and she helped him out once he got knocked out. So she repaid her debt. It was as simple as that. Yet the guilt was still there, and she hated it.
Something popped in her hip, ribs or something, all she knew was it hurt like hell and she had to sit down. She bit down hard on her lip in pain. Her eyes teared up but she blinked them away, no one would see her cry, the pain she felt was like a thousand knives stabbing her all at once, in one single spot. She bit down so hard she could taste the blood, it was so bitter and nasty but she tried to ignore it. She couldn't stand anymore. She had to sit down.
Stopping almost abruptly, she turned to look Kitty in the eye for the first time since they left the cave. Wanda was slightly panting now, as she rasped out, "I need to sit down."
Kitty nodded and helped Wanda to a sitting position. She took this moment to move over to John's side, "Are you okay?" She asked for the first time to the Aussie. She checked very carefully for any major injuries, now that everyone's sort of sitting about.
She looked down the hall, and mentioned, "Hey Logan, that wasn't very nice." She commented about John, "Look like we're just going to sit here for a minute. Find Gambit and bring him back here I guess? Make sure Rogue is okay."
Kitty thought to herself, 'Who'm I kidding? We're sitting ducks! We're so dead if someone tries to attack us. Good luck to us.'
"Kitty right?" John asked, straining his breaths. He blinked his eyes, trying to clear up his constantly blurring vision.
She looked him over and nodded in reply to her name being said.
"Got to ask you something, and I want you to answer me straight. Can you do that Sheila?"
Kitty blinked, "Of course." She replied, "I'll be completely honest with you." She checks on him, very careful. "You aren't exactly in the greatest shape here. I suppose power-usefulness always comes at the oddest times."
--
Remy woke to the dank musty smell of the cave. He groaned lightly as all the aches and pains began screaming for attention. He tried to move but quickly stopped when the pain increased. The blood loss was really getting to him now though. He could barely move and his fingers were numb.
With slow and careful movements he moved his hand to his head where he had tied his shirt around it. It was still there but his fingers were so numb he could just feel that it was.
It took him at least five minutes to manage sitting up but he managed it and once he did he fumbled around with the shirt tied to his head. It probably looked silly but if it had stopped the bleeding at all he was happy. It had probably been stupider to leave were he had initially been but if he had he'd probably been dead by now. The water had helped... it had been cold enough to at least slow the blood flow, and that had helped. Though... his head was still bleeding slightly and that needed to be attended to right away.
When he finally managed to get the shirt off his head he inspected it. It was so covered in blood he didnt think he could save it. None the less he dipped it into the water and even though the current was weak, it felt strong to him. He was very weak himself now.
When he pulled the shirt out it was still covered in his blood, but despite the fact that it was now completely useless he tied it around his waist, his fingers often slipping and getting more in the way then helping. Without feeling they were pretty much useless.
It took about another five minutes for him to get to his feet. His legs didn't want to hold his weight and his body resisted every movement. When he finally did manage to get to his feet though he felt like crumpling to the ground again and passing out, but he knew that if he passed out now, he wouldn't wake up.
His shoulder against that cave wall he began to walk. With each step he felt as if his legs would give way and he'd fall down again and he didn't think he could get back up if he did. He had to walk to the others though, he didn't have the energy to charge anything and announce his presence with an explosion, nor did he have the voice to holler out to them, and so, slowly, he walked the way he had come.
Breathing became difficult but he continued to move on. He had to find someone and quick.
Finally he did see them. They didn't notice him though. He grinned and momentarily his pain was forgotten as he saw someone.
Rogue still wore his trench coat, and his gloves. She is so cute. Remy thought, his grin broadening. But then he saw the guy that went by the name of Wolverine and Remy knew this was one guy to be wary of. Especially in Remys condition. Pyro was laying on the ground but conscious. Kitty was near him. Wanda was sitting and Rogue and Logan had their backs turned to him.
"Ylookin fo little ole Remy, chere?" Remy asked in a low, hoarse voice, but his accent still shone through thickly to his pleasure and it was defiantly loud enough for them all to hear. This however had taken the last ounce of strength out of him and he fell to his knees.
Everything hurt a hundred fold. It almost felt as if his ribs had cracked and broke as his knees hit the ground but he knew they hadn't. His lungs felt as if they had collapsed, his chest felt like there was a huge knot in it, his back seemed to scream a scream he felt in his very bones, and the whole room spun before his dark eyes.
Despite all his best efforts a loud groan of pain escaped his lips and darkness began to swirl before his eyes but he did not pass out.
It was beautiful music to her ears once she heard his voice again, though hoarse and pained all her doubts and worries seemed to wash away. If he could talk to her, he'd be alright. It was as Logan had said when Jamie caught the flu, 'If you can talk, then your fine.' Rogue turned to him, her eyes glossed with tears of relief at the sight of him.
But that saying she so dearly believed seemed to fade from her mind as he fell to his knees, he wasn't alright...
Rogue hadn't known how long she had gazed into his red eyes, her body frozen, her heart stopped. She was going to faint. The sight of him was too overwhelming.
But she couldn't faint, she couldn't faint now... not with his limp form bleeding to death in front of her.
In a fast movement she pulled off his trench coat and ran to his aid, draping it around his shoulders and wrapping her arms around him, slowly she lowered him to the ground, resting his head on her lap.
"Logan!" Rogue cried, "He needs help right now!" fearful tears leaked out of eyes, as she hovered over Remy's injured form.
Remy fought the unconsciousness that was trying to overtake him. He was lying down now, his trench coat around his shoulders. His head was lying in Rogue's lap and he'd have given anything to be able to just wave away the consuming darkness and be able to look at her.
Rogue bent her head down, "Ah won't leave you this time" she whispered, wiping at her coming tears "Ah promise, Remy"
His vision finally cleared and he could see her pale face. There was worry behind her eyes and Remy grinned at her despite the pain that still held on with an iron fist.
"Remy appreciate dat p'tite." Remy said, forcing his arm to move and he reached up, nearly putting a hand to her cheek then remembering that if he did he would pass out... and wouldn't wake up, so he stopped himself right before it touched. Now his hand didn't have anywhere to rest though and it fell back down to his side involuntarily and he bit back the groan of pain.
Rogue winced, but quickly saw the sense of the situation and let his arm drop.
"How's Pyro? He okay?" Remy asked her.
Rogue smiled weakly, "He'll be fine" she whispered in response. "He'll be fine."
Logan snarled quietly, but came to help Rogue. "He'll be fine." Logan said, tossing a look at the mutant heap on the ground. Logan's eyes wavered over the Cajun. Not exactly wanting to help him, but if he meant something to Rogue he'd help. He took off his shirt, revealing a grey wifebeater underneath, and held it to Gambit's head wound.
Rogue looked up at Logan, now at her side.
"Rogue, get inside and get a first aid kit." Logan ordered. He almost felt sorry for the kid. He was beat up pretty bad, but he did save Rogue, and that gave him credit in his book.
Rogue nodded, "Ah... okay..." she looked back down on Remy, "Ah'll be back--don't...die..." a blush crept onto her face, Remy was going to be alright...Logan said so...and if she hurried...
Rogue gently lifted Remy's head off of her lap, her hands balled in fists so she could at least touch him with the gloved part of the back of her hands.
Rogue came to her feet, glancing down on Remy before taking off up the stair case leading up into the gardens.
Before Remy could respond Rogue was moving his head and it took him every ounce of strength not to let on just how much that hurt. By the time the pain began to subside though Rogue had already taken off and he hadn't been able to respond to her. He chuckled hoarsely, but this too was a mistake. His chest heaved with the motion, jolting his body and pain coursed through him again.
Once this subsided into the usual extreme ache he looked up at the Wolverine guy.
"T'anks homme. Gambit 'preciate de help. Jus' sorry y'had t'see him like dis."
Logan just shook his head. He didn't want to let on that he actually liked the Cajun. He sighed. "I've been in worse scrapes than this, Gumbo. You'll live."
---
She ran past the bench by the shrubs, each fountain at top speed, her white streaked auburn hair falling in front of her face.
As she reached the garden end, she pushed her way through the shrubbery wall and out in front of the Institute itself. Slowly she came to the door and rattled the door knobs. With a click, the doors swung open.
'Why aren't they...' Rogue took in a deep breathe '...locked?'
"JEAN!!! SCOTT!!!" Rogue let out a silent cry "ANYONE!!"
No response.
Rogue rushed inside, taking off up the staircase, quickly she headed down the hall towards the elevator which would lead down to the infirmary. "KURT!!" she tried again, though knowing her attempts in vain.
She steeped into the elevator, pounding against the infirmary floor button.
"AUTHORIZATION" came a voice.
"Rogue" she replied sternly.
With a jolt the elevator came down.
Rogue leaned against the elevator wall and slid down, curling up into a fetal position.
The Institute, her home, was just...empty...
Chartruese had seen the girl run to the gate. The black haired mutant followed, hoping to find some help. She cautiously stuck her head inside the door long enough to hear the other girl yelling. Seeing the mansion empty she slipped inside and walked down the hall the girl had disappeared down.
---
"Yeah yeah yeah..." John dismissingly waved his hand, before looking up at the girl with a smile. Trust an X-Man to be so dramatic. "But How's my hair?"
"Tell me, is it that bad Doc?" His lip quivered as he fought to hide a laugh, the girl's expression was priceless. "Can nothing be done?!?!"
Kitty blinked at John's words. Stunned, she wasn't sure exactly how to react.
"Oh my God", Wanda said lightly as she heard what
John had asked Kitty. He did not just ask that did he? She almost
wanted to laugh at his antics. The boy's body was in a shambles but his
sense of humor still had life. Amazing. Just amazing. She wished she could
be in as high spirits as he was. But it hurt to much to breathe at the
moment so how could she be happy when she felt so crappy? Having her period
was better then this for Christ's sake. Wanda thought, letting out a
long sigh as she watched the others.
Kitty couldn't help but let out a small laugh. Well, more like
a giggle. She made another semi-serious face, taking her right hand and
tousling John's hair just slightly. "Oh, I don't know. We just may have
a fashion emergency on our hands. I think we may just have to
shave it all off." She smirked.
He heard Wanda gawk. John was sure she was about to laugh, but she quickly hit it with a sigh. Maybe there was hope for the... John tried to think of the right word. Ice Queen, Antisocial Witch, Antichrist? 'Forget it...' He gave up; all this thinking was making his head hurt worse.
He looked back at the X-Shelia, 98 sure she was kidding, but he still worried about those other 2.
"Amputation..." He covered his eyes with his forearm, attempting to wipe away the grit on his face. "I'm gonna need a donor then."
He looked over to Wanda. "Guess black and red could work..."
Logan turned his attention towards the one called Pyro, joking around with Kitty and Wanda.
Remy began to laugh... to his dismay. It hurt terribly but that was John for you. Funny in the most serious of times. Remy couldn't see his friend, but he could definitely hear him and what was being said. Though he knew that the overwhelming pain that came from his laughing was soon to blur all senses so he forced himself to stop and take a deep breathe.
"Y'never could be serious could ya Johnny." Remy let out a hoarse chuckle he immediately regretted. "But Remy t'inks he like de file's suggestion. Y'should jus' shave it off." He said sarcastically, wishing he could turn his head and see the pyromaniac, but he wasn't about to try, it hurt enough as it was.
It took Wanda a moment to figure out he was talking about her, and when she did her hand instantly went up to feel her hair, for some reason, just to make sure it was still there. She almost felt like smiling at her foolishness. But then realized who was there and tried to frown. But she felt pretty good, mentally, not physically. But she felt pretty light hearted at the moment for some unknown reason.
"I say we shave it off. It would most definitely be an improvement." Wanda told the Aussie, and evil glint in her eyes for effect.
John tried to laugh, but it came out as a string of strained coughs. Personally, he would hive up every hair on his body at the moment if it would stop the pain.
"Might have been dreamin..." John looked around with his eyes, not even attempting to move his battered body. "But didn't someone mention a first aid kit?"
He looked at Kitty and Wanda. Rogue, she must have been sent to go get it. His head was still fuzzy. Remy had carried him out, no wait; it had been the Wolverine...
"Wheres Remy!" John blurted out, trying despite the pain to get up and look for his friend.
"Remy's right here y'numb skull. Didn' y'hear me? Non... y'deaf t'anybody but de lady's aren't ya. Dough... Remy could be accused o' dat too..."
Remy said in his hoarse voice, but he had raised it so perhaps this time Pyro could hear him since he didn't the last time. It still hurt to talk though, but Remy wasn't about to let some pain get in the way of making from dear old John.
"But since y'missed de first t'ing Remy said t'ya, Remy agree wit' de filles. Y'should shave yer head Johnny." He grinned at the nick-name.
Logan let out a low chuckle here, trying to imagine the spritey boy without hair. He looked around. "Rogue should've been back by now."
---
Quickly and diligently, Rogue snatched a medi-bag from the medical supply closet and began to gather up all the medical supplies she imagined she'd need to tend to both Remy's and John's wounds. She was trying to hurry, trying not to dawdle but she was just so flustered with it all. Could she spare a few moments to get a jacket out of her bedroom to cover up her now bare arms (from giving Remy back his coat)? Could she spare to pull on a pair of gloves before returning to her friends? How serious were their injuries? Constantly she was asking herself what the Professor or Scott would do, but each time she felt her heart aching. Where were two of the most respectable people in her existence now? Why didn't they end up in that cold dark cave as they did? Were Kitty, Logan, and herself what was left of the glorious X -men?
More tears. Great. Rogue certainly found the best time to be an emotional wreck.
Rogue swallowed hard, blinking back the tears and shutting the cabinet. Her eyes moved around the room, looking for something - anything! That would help her care for them... she had gotten most of everything that would care for their type of wounds...
Without a second question she took off out of the infirmary and at the elevator, quickly she pressed the button expecting the doors to open immediately as, after all, she was the only one inside.
Rogue swung the medibag over her shoulder and took off back down to the infirmary, stopping short of the door and bringing her hands to her head. What to do? Rogue removed one of Remy's gloves and tucked it into her shirt turning back to the elevator.
Rogue would have them at her mercy and would be well prepared to take them down... well, unless it was Magneto. She couldn't really hurt him... but Magneto was dead... so...
Enough thinking!' she shouted at herself mentally, rushing into the opening elevator and stepped inside.
Rogue got in stance, her hands balled into fists, one leg stretched out to the door ready to fight if necessary.
---
To be continued...
Authors Notes:
-- Characters/Authors --
Casakitten: Rogue
Eixid: St. John "Pyro" Allerdyce
KiyoneKatz: Kitty "Shadowcat" Pryde
Sarah Crysala: Remy "Gambit" LeBeau
Roguestar1: Wanda "Scarlet Witch" Maximoff
The Gothic Kleptomaniac: Logan "Wolverine", Chartruese.