Meanwhile, In The Backwaters of Louisiana…

The X-Women had hidden the jet cleverly along the edge of an uninhibited piece of swampland, using the mangroves and natural foliage as camouflage. Jean was currently aboard, bored out of her skull and looking forward to when Storm would get back and she'd have a chance to stretch her legs.

A light on the panel in front of her suddenly shone to life, signaling an incoming transmission. She typed in a translation code while flipping open a voice link to the mansion's war room.

"Scott, I'm bringing up the Cerebro output on visuals. Anything new to report?" There was a pause while Jean awaited a response, but all she got was a faint crackle of static. "Scott?"

Nothing.

"Scott? Hello!"

Dead air, mentally and physically.

"Huh…" Jean typed another command into the keypad, but the results were the same. "That's…odd." She switched frequencies.

"Hey Storm?" There was a pause before the comm. link crackled to life. This time someone answered.

"Yeah?"

"You need to get back here! We've got a," there was a soft thump on the landing ramp outside.

"Reading?" Storm finished, walking into the cockpit of the jet.

"Showoff," Jean chided her mentally, punching in a startup code. But she couldn't keep the slight quiver out of fingers as they flicked across the keypad. Storm noticed.

"What is it?" she asked, sliding gracefully into the pilot's chair. Jean glanced at her out of the corner of her eye as she brought up the location coordinates on the Blackbird's radar. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she contemplated how Storm always knew when something was amiss. Coming to no reasonable conclusion, she decided to answer the question.

"Nothing, I just can't get a response back at the mansion." She shrugged, putting her own fears to rest as she swung her co-pilot chair back to face the bulkhead. "Scott didn't respond." Storm chuckled as she watched her partner get situated at the controls.

"I'm sure John or Jubilee was blowing something up and he had to run. Since when did you get so jumpy?" she asked, cocking a wry eyebrow.

"Let's just get going," Jean said in exasperation, giving her friend a mental poke in the arm. Storm threw her hands up in front of her chest, fending off the invisible attack with a mischievous grin on her face.

"Okay, okay. Just stop with the poking finger of doom." There was a muffled roar that reverberated dup through the metal grating of the floor panels as the plane took to the air. "I'm sure everything's fine."

Dirt Road Outside New Orleans…

"He still behind us?" Logan shouted back to Rogue as she clung tightly to his waist. She glanced back over her shoulder, much shorter hair whipping against her face, and saw Remy following close behind. He noticed her gaze and gave her a wink. Rogue rolled her eyes and faced forward again.

"Yeah!" she hollered back.

"Damn it!" Rogue thumped her fist against her driver's back indignantly, then quickly returned her hands back to his waist as he sped up.

"What's your problem with him, Logan?" she demanded. She would've noticed him snort if it weren't for the 'subtle' roar of the bike beneath her.

"My problem is that I don't trust him," he replied, turning his head slightly to be better heard. "I mean, what sewer did you drag him out of?" She sighed.

"I didn't drag him out of the sewer," she muttered. "More like the swamp, and more like him dragging me." Logan fought down the urge to park the bike and slaughter the other guy immediately. Instead he took the opportunity to go all 'daddy' on Rogue again.

"That wasn't what I wanted to hear, kid!" She laughed behind him as Logan walked right into her trap.

"Look, Remy saved my life. If it weren't for him I'd probably still be stuck in a boiler room in the basement of The Thief's Guild…" The bike jerked beneath them as Logan's hand slipped for the first time in his available memory.

"WHAT?" he cried. He would've grabbed Rouge 'round the shoulders and given her a good shake if his hands hadn't been busy at the moment. Instead he took to chastising her verbally.

"Rogue, what the hell were you thinking? Falling in with that type of crowd! Trusting someone like…like that!" Rogue was quickly getting pissed, and tightened her hold around Logan's waist, thought it was doubtful he actually felt it.

"Logan, don't lecture me like some kind of child!" she shot back, fuming. "I can take care of myself…"

"Rogue, did living on your own teach you anything?" Logan demanded, interrupting the girl mid-rant. "'Cause let me tell you what I've learned from rubbing elbows with the less desirable people in life. No matter where you go, everyone knows The Thieves Guild and all the rules that apply. You never mess with a guild boy, and you never turn your back to them!" Logan hollered at the top of his lungs. "Then you and I are apart for, like, two days and suddenly you're stuck in the middle of some family soap opera involving the most devious thieves in the history of crime! Jesus Christ!" He was about to throw up his hands in exasperation when Rogue decided to go for the killing blow.

"Actually, it's a family soap opera involving the most devious thieves in the history of crime and the most dangerous assassins known to man."

"ROGUE!"

"Look, I found you too didn't I?" she demanded indignantly. Logan groaned and reveled the throttle a little harder.

"That don't say much, kid."

There was only one thing on Remy's mind: putting as much distance between whatever had been back at that apartment and their rag-tag little group. Chocking on the dust flying off Logan's back tire, he stuck close to the duo's tail. At one point, Rogue turned around to look at him, and he felt his dampened spirit lift a little. True, he had never expected anything like this to happen when he first laid eyes on the injured runaway just a short four days ago, but then again, she probably hadn't been expecting this either when she stepped off a that train. And besides, he liked a little excitement in his life. But then his thoughts drifted back to 'Donna and the family he'd left behind. What was going to happen to them?

What was going to happen to him, caught up in a mess bigger than even him?

Lost in through, Remy felt the bike slip beneath him, his balance wavering slightly. He focused and brought his attention back to the road and the task at hand. 'C'mon Remy ,' he chided himself. 'Now ain't the time to go running off the road.' But then…it happened again…

Remy's balance wavered. For a split second he thought that the impossible had occurred and he'd lost his balance. But then he realized that would never happen. He'd been riding since before he could walk; too long to make a rookie mistake like that! Shaken, he put on a burst of speed, darting just behind Logan and Rogue, when it happened a third time. Beneath him, the bike rocked from side to side and Remy fought to stay on. In front of him Rogue let out a frightened exclamation and clung to Logan's waist as their bike pitched to the left. Logan grunted, hauling it upright with difficulty.

"What's going on?" Remy shouted to the pair over the noise. Logan wound his arm around Rogue's to keep her on the bucking bike and shot a fleeting glance at the Cajun behind him.

"Don't know!" His bike pitched to the right this time, nearly skimming the rider's knees against the gravel as the wheels sputter. "Just keep going!"

But his instructions were easier said than done as the next waver sent Remy's feet dragging. Then something occurred to him. He finally put together the uneasiness he'd been feeling with what his logic had been trying to grasp.

"Turn around!" he cried, but he never got the chance to act on his own advice as it happened once more.

This time his bike slammed over completely, skidding forward along the ground, dragging Remy along with it. The rocks and gravel bit deeply into his skin as he was pulled along. His leg still pinned below the careening vehicle, Remy realized with a shock that instead of the bike slowing from the drag of his body and friction, the out of control machine was gaining speed. Panicked, and unable to see his companions, he writhed back and forth, kicking and thrusting with his arms in a desperate attempt to free his pinned leg.

"Merdre!" he cussed to himself, giving the bike a vicious kick with his free right foot. "Not lik dis!" Beside him the bike wavered off its path slightly. His calf became visible once more, his pants red and caked with blood, but his foot was still hidden beneath the surging machine. Then, out of the corner of his eye, Remy saw what appeared to be the crazed bike's target as it zoomed along the ground, wheels spinning on the air. His blood ran cold as the giant oak tree loomed closer every second.

"Crap…" He thrashed about frantically, kicking futilely against the bike's leather seat again and again. "Move! MOVE! MOVE!" His foot inched free slowly with every flail, but it was too slow. The tree was there! Bruised and road-rashed, Remy squinted his eyes shut, bracing for impact, gave one final kick…

…And felt his foot slide free. In a motion that was purely instinctual, Remy flipped to his back and threw his hands over his head as his former ride hit the tree with sickening force just feet behind him, and exploded outward in a wall of orange fury.

As flaming metal littered the landscape the Cajun got shakily and painfully to his feet. Whirling around, he felt his heart stop in his chest. Logan was pinned to a tree by seemingly nothing. His arms out to his side as if he were being crucified, his unsheathed claws were bending and curling in unnatural directions. His face twisted in pain, his only focus was a figure running down the middle of the road. Rogue.

She was limping, a long burn running down her left leg as she hobbled as fast as she could. But she got two steps before both her hands shot up to her neck, and she slumped to the ground. Rogue jerked once, than lay still, a syringe visible beneath the collar of her jacket. In a panic, Remy launched himself towards her.

"Rogue!" he cried. But his forward progress was suddenly halted as a smoldering fragment of muffler on the ground suddenly squirmed to life, winding its way around the Cajun's legs, pinning them firmly together. As he slammed into the ground (again), a voice penetrated Remy's strain of consciousness.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. So predictable," muttered an icy cold voice from behind. "One road leading away from the apartment, one way to run." Remy flipped himself over, still bound, and watched as a figure penetrated the growing darkness around them. His first shock was that the man was floating. His second shock was that the metal that littered the ground responded to his every gesture which, in this case, meant that a bent pipe encircled and bound his wrists behind him. "I expected this kind of behavior from the Wolverine, but not from a pup like you." The figure landed softly just feet in front of him, and offered up an unnerving smile. "It's Remy, isn't it?"

"Who da hell are you!" he screamed in response. "What da hell you want!" The old man, clothed in a burgundy cape, chuckled menacingly and leaned close to the prone Remy.

"My dear boy, I have all I want right here," he muttered and, with a flick of a hand, a metal panel floated into view, the prone Rogue fastened with a steel clasp tightly to the top. Her head lurched sickeningly to one side as the makeshift stretcher shifted in midair.

Remy felt a surge of pure rage clouding his mind. Writhing violently, he struggled in vain to try and reach the bonds on his wrists with his fingers. If he could just charge them off…

While his body was preoccupied, the Cajun's mouth was busy running away on it own.

"You fi'thy sonavabitch! You 'urt her and Ah swear Ah won't rest 'till Ah see you dead…" and so on. Gloatingly, the old man stood just beyond his reach, laughing menacingly.

"Oh, I don't think that will be happening any time soon," he muttered softly, yet dangerously. And at another deft twitch of his hand, Remy felt something come free from his belt. Shocked, he watched his own Bo staff levitating in the air before him. Automatically, it extended to its full length, then began twisting and writhing as if it were made from rubber and not steel. In the blink of an eye, it bore down upon him, winding around Remy's neck so tightly that it cut off his air supply. Blackness began spotting his vision. It felt like raw fire scorching his throat as he fought helplessly against the oblivion threatening to swallow him up.

'Rogue,' his pain wracked brain ordered him. 'Got…to…get…to…Rogue!' But he was fighting a losing battle, and as he felt the arms of death reaching out to him, the last words Remy heard were triumphantly crowed in a soft British accent.

"Goodnight, young thief…"

"What the hell…" Storm wrestled with the controls in her hand as the plane jarred and jolted beneath her. It was as if the plane was flying through a jet stream, but she knew for a fact that that wasn't possible. In fact, aside from the encroaching darkness, conditions outside the plane were quite favorable.

"Jean…?" But Jean shook here head vehemently.

"It's not me," she confessed as the plane bucked again wildly. Suddenly, she doubled over, a cacophony of voices tearing through her mind. Flitting thoughts, panicked consciousnesses, emotion after foreign emotion hit her in a psychic shockwave.

"Jean, what's wrong?"

"Rogue!" Anger, hatred.

"Jean?"

"What da hell you want!" Desperation, confusion.

"JEAN!"

Pain, darkness…

Storm's voice echoed through the cockpit as the flood of images abated just as suddenly as it had begun. Jean was left gasping for breath as her eyes refocused on the open sky ahead of her, and her partner's worried face.

"I'm…I'm okay," she sputtered as she tried to make sense of all the residual data tumbling around in her head. "I, I just…"

"What happened?" 'Ro asked, her 'Mother of the Earth and everyone on it' look on her face. Suddenly Jean surged forward and snapped the auto pilot off, yanking the controls into her grasp and accelerating the plane southward. "What are you doing."
"South," Jean muttered. "I'm heading south. Get ready Storm, they're close. And they're in trouble."

Logan was helpless, completely incapacitated by the very metal that had saved his life so many times. He watched as Remy fell to his knees before the man Xavier had called Magneto, his own staff wound around his neck. Then he endured the shame of being confronted with the very man holding him prisoner as the man once known as Eric Lennsher walked briskly over to him, leaving Remy lying still in the middle of the road. Logan felt white hot rage pounding in his veins as the man began to speak.

"Well, it's seems Charles's X-Men have finally arrived," he said as if he were having a normal conversation, eyes fastened on the sky as the Blackbird hurdled closer, slowing for descent. "Shame I can't stop to chat." And that's when Logan realized that Magneto wasn't looking at the Blackbird, but past it, to where a sleek, white helicopter was approaching at a steady, nonchalant pace.

"You'll never make it past them," Logan barked through gritted teeth. "The girls'll rip you to pieces." The X-jet's engines were turning up dust-devils along the dirt road as it sank lower for a landing.

With a haughty look, Magneto turned to regard the descending SR-71, then back to the captive Wolverine with a smug grin.

"I highly doubt that, my boy," and with a wave of his hand, the plane stopped in mid air. Jean was barely visible through the tiny window, working the controls furiously. "And unfortunately, this little contraption," he continued, tapping one wrinkled finger against his oblong helmet, "is keeping Ms. Grey out of my head and inside that plane." But while Magneto was busy gloating at the helpless Jean, he failed to realize one minor detail: the emergency hatch on the roof had been open for quite some time now.

Above Logan the sky turned a nasty green as thunder shook the very ground in a shockwave of fury. Lightening scorched across the horizon, illuminating a white-haired goddess that harnessed the bolts. The raw fury on Storm's face was mirrored in the raging thunderclouds around her. Encroaching rapidly, the helicopter danced and dodged as it was tossed the goddess's ravaging winds, but never strayed from its course. Magneto shifted his attention from the prone Wolverine to the angry sky above. Logan was thrilled to see a hint of fear on the man's face, fleeting though it was.

"What's the matter, metal head?" the feral mutant growled through gritted teeth. "'Fraid of a little rain?" But he didn't get a reply. Instead Magneto fastened his eyes on the helicopter as it hovered shakily several hundred feet over the battle grounds. By itself, the hatch on the side slid open. The stretcher bearing the prone Rogue suddenly arced into the sky, slipped narrowly into the opening and disappeared into the hull of the vehicle.

"NO!" Logan screamed, pulling away from the tree with all the force in his body. But it was useless; he wasn't going anywhere until Magneto decided he was. Even as the elderly mutant rose into the air himself Logan remained stuck fast. "NO!"

And without so much as a word, Magneto disappeared into the belly of the helicopter as well. Inside the Blackbird, Jean shouts of outrage fell on deaf ears, and in the air above, a shower of hailstones echoed Storms frustration. She threw everything she had at the chopper, but the pilot wasn't deterred, flying straight off and into the thunderhead. As the white 'copter disappeared from sight, Storm tried one last time. Raising her hands in rage, a sworm of electrical bolts laced towards its retreating vehicle.

They never reached it.

Deflected by some magnetic shield, the three mutants watched helplessly as one of their own was ripped from their grasp.

A/N: Alright, I know, I know, it's been FOREVER! But here's the 411: Stretch has been accepted to her top three choices of colleges (Marquette, University of Michigan, DePaul). This is good. But Stretch has also realized that she has no money, so now comes the fun part, Scholarships! These applications are long and arduous and driving me insane, but unfortunately, they have to be done. So now you know the low down, and I'm sorry for the delay. But hey, have a little faith in me. I told you I wouldn't give up on this piece and I haven't. And actually, I'm going to give you a little hint as to what bombshell I've got planned for the upcoming chapters. Think, aside from Remy being added to the cast list, what is another thing that you've wanted to see in the X-Men movies that hasn't been added. Think about something that's been lacking from these characters (and no, it's not Logan sleeping with Rogue ;) Just think about what's been missing, and then hang on, 'cause this story is halfway done, and the last chapters will send you for a loop :)