The bus ride was a long one. Whenever one is traveling to a place of such death and destruction, a feeling of darkness creeps forward with every mile. To fit the occasion, the sky clouded up and the land was put under shadow.
Erik got up after the bus rolled to a stop. He stepped outside and began walking towards the main memorial building. The air still smelled like burning flesh, even after all of these decades. He looked around. There it was. He saw Auschwitz I, the original camp. He saw the two electric fences that surrounded it, the ones that he had helped erect. And then there was the gate. Above the gate in black metal letters were the words "Work Brings Freedom" or "Work Brings Freedom." It was close to there that he and Shard had first met. Auschwitz I was her "home" if you could call it that. And it was there that the famous Nazi scientist experiments took place. He shuddered.
He stared at the gate for some time then walked inside the information building. Looking at the charts he checked the latest time for the bus to Birkenau. Wouldn't be until another thirty minutes. But that was okay, he would walk. He had done it before; countless times…
It was lightly raining as Erik walked along the quiet dirt road. To either side of him was farmland, were green plants of who-knows-what were swaying in the breeze. It was as if God himself was crying for his people. That's what Shard would have said, he thought to himself. But God could have saved himself the grief and stopped this horror before it even happened… But then there would be no Israel and Erik would have never met Charles Xavier. But then Erik would have never met Magda forcing Pietro and Wanda out of existence. But then Erik would have never met Shard and you went far enough down the line, the world would have been under the rule of Apocalypse. Just another Holocaust, for different people.
Before Erik could make sense of this paradox, he arrived at the gates of Birkenau. He stood at the gate and stepped inside. To the front, right and left of him the camp extended for a mile. Rows of barracks (or what was left of them) extended as far as the eye could see. He touched the lifeless electric fence that surrounded the camp; its barbwire a testimony of the hell it once contained. Anger coursed through his veins as he resisted the strong temptation to rip the fence up in rage.
It was a tough walk to his block; his memories were haunting him. So many things that he had pushed away for so long were surfacing again. He could see a working camp, filled with starving, half-dead prisoners. He walked past a spot where he was brutally beaten by an SS soldier. He stepped over a patch of soil that two captives had fought to the death over a moldy apple. There was… too much death here. It hadn't taken him long to shut himself off to the terror around him.
He found his block, or the chimney remains that marked it. Erik's mind was reeling with recollections. Roll call…
Roll was over. An SS soldier walked up to him. Erik stared at him blankly and waited for orders. The soldier took out his knife and brought it close to the boy's neck. Erik closed his eyes and waited for the worst. But it was not his life that the Nazi was interested in. He used the blade of his knife to pull the metal chain from under his shirt. Erik gulped. This was not good.
"What's this?" the SS soldier asked in German. Erik didn't answer.
"Think you could steal some valuables for yourself, did you?" he sneered. He grabbed Erik by the shirt and roughly dragged him to the side of a building. Erik remained silent. He would be severely beaten for something like this –in the best case scenario.
"What's all this about?" Another Nazi came to the scene.
"Why, Sergeant, prisoner…" the soldier grabbed Erik's left arm and looked at it, "14782 was caught stealing from the crematory."
"I see," said the sergeant. "You are released from your duty, Corporal. I will administer to this maggot personally." The soldier smartly saluted and walked off, after giving the chained pendant to the sergeant. He lifted the boy by the scruff and slammed him against the building.
"You will pay for stealing this," the sergeant roared. Erik was extremely petrified. So close to freedom and this beast had to catch him. The sergeant saw Erik's fear in his eyes and consoled him.
"Don't worry," he scoffed, "death is too good for you. I have something much better stored for you." The Nazi put the chain back around Erik's neck. It was then that he noticed the matching necklace hanging from the sergeant's neck. So he was about to be rescued after all. The sergeant lowered his voice.
"How 'bout freedom," he asked. Erik, who was quite relieved, joked around for the first time in a long time.
"Oh no!" he exclaimed, "Not that! Anything but that!"
"Now lets not make a scene," whispered the sergeant. But Erik was probably the happiest he had ever been in his life, and couldn't stop talking.
"Maggot?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Sorry 'bout that," the sergeant apologized. "Had to say something. Had to put up a good act."
"Well you sure did." Erik rubbed the back of his neck.
"Shhh," the sergeant warned when they reached the gates. "This should be fairly simple," he said, before rounding the corner. "All we have to do is-"
As they turned the corner they ran straight into, of all people, the real sergeant. Shard fell backwards and accidentally reverted back to her original form. The actual sergeant, who was a bit dumbfounded, quickly overcame his astonishment and grabbed Shard.
"Run!" she yelled at Erik. He hesitated, allowing the Nazi to spot his name on his arm.
"Don't wait for me!" she yelled, trying to break free of the sergeant's grip. "Don't worry, I'll find you. I promise." With that, Erik took off into the surrounding street. Shard, who was putting up a good fight, was hit in the back of the head in with the sergeant's gun. She dropped to the floor, unconscious. The sergeant looked towards Erik, who was long disappeared.
Dragging the girl with him, he accessed the records. Prisoner 14782 had been executed this very day and number 14788 was put to death days ago. Was he going mad?
Erik sighed at the memory. He had escaped to the nearest town and was taken in by a gypsy named Magda. She kept him safe until the end of the war. Shard had never reached him, so he went back to Auschwitz when it was cleared out and looked for her.
Not finding her amongst the prisoners, he found the careful records of the Nazi sergeant (so meticulously done, he took photographs). The day after the escape, prisoner 14788 was put to death by hanging on barbwire. Another account showed that she was shot down by several soldiers. That had stirred hope in Erik's heart; it was hard to kill someone with a healing factor. The next day she was forced onto the charged fence. In the last account, she was locked into the crematory and burned alive. He stared at the picture of her charred bones with the spiked star pendant hanging around the skeleton's neck. They had finally managed to kill her…
But today Erik found himself repeating his search for his good friend. He walked between the barracks (or the chimneys that marked them), eyes scanning around. How could someone "look" for a person that was not in physical form? He reached out to the magnetosphere checking for any slight disturbances. None. He walked back to the large mound were they dumped the ashes of cremated prisoners. As he neared the mass grave a bad feeling overcame him. Someone was near, someone non-tourist (if you could call Auschwitz a tourist attraction). Before he could react, there was blackness…
Rogue and Gambit were sitting at a café near the Louver, enjoying a meal of les croquet-monsier. The money Gambit won at the poker game was not letting out any time soon. After they finished a meal, Gambit took her around the Louver building and pointed to several places.
"Dey need ta increase security over dere and dere," he pointed.
"You mean you've broken into the Louver before!" Rogue exclaimed.
"Once or twice," Gambit muttered humbly. "Didn't steal nothing chere, so don' worry. It was on a dare." Rogue shuttered at the idea of breaking into the Louver for fun. She decided to dismiss the topic all together.
"Well, I think we will pay to get in this time."
"Bonne idée," Gambit admitted, "but why we go when we no know where mon pere is?" Rogue pulled him by the arm to the ticket stand.
"Ever heard of appreciating the arts?" she asked.
"Never cared 'bout da picture, jus' the price." Gambit's candor surprised Rogue. She could tell that half of him hated his thieving past while the other half was itching to get his hands on another priceless painting or gem. Stealing was an addiction for him, but what she didn't know was that he given it up to steal something more valuable to him: her heart.
After they had purchased tickets, they waited in line to be let into the museum. The ticket lady was not that impressed by Gambit's street clothes in a place as proper as the Louve. However, he compensated his worn garments with his arresting "Cajun charm," as he called it. Rogue pushed him along, with full intention to stop attempts of anyone flirting with her Gambit.
Rogue gave herself a mental slap. What was she doing? Was this not the same guy who kidnapped her a few months ago? Had he not used her for his own means?
Gambit interrupted her thoughts by forcing her to a halt. She looked at him and saw that he was staring straight ahead in shock and almost sadness. Rogue followed his gaze to a figure she quickly recognized.
Jean-Luc LeBeau.
"We'll be arriving on the outskirts of Paris in a few moments," Logan grunted. "You best be donning those casual clothes you brought over your uniforms. No need to attract any unwanted attention."
"But Mr. Logan," Rahne protested as she put on a T-shirt over her uniform, "How do you know they're in Paris? They could be anywhere in France, or Europe for that matter!"
"Instinct," he replied, "you gotta learn how to rely on your gut, kid. You and I are more bestial than that blue fur-ball over there." –He pointed to Kurt- "In some ways animals are smarter than humans, they seem to have a primitive sixth sense. It's how pets go crazy before a huge storm or earthquake."
Rahne pondered that.
"Or," Kurt added, "you could take the fact that Gambit is a thief by nature and what better place to go than Paris? Plus, with Rogue and all, it gives him major points on the romance side of things."
She considered this. "Are you suggesting…?"
"That Gambit has a thing for Rogue?" he finished, "Of course. Did you see the way he treated her back in New Orleans?"
Rahne raised an eyebrow.
"Oh. That's right. You weren't there. But I do think she likes him… Maybe it's a good thing…"
"Not a good thing, bub." Logan interrupted. He flipped the autopilot switch on and walked over to the kids, who were now wearing ordinary attire. "Gambit is a heart-breaker. A charmer. He'll leave Rogue in a lot more hurt than help. Luckily, with Rogue's power, we don't have to worry about any sort of lubby-dubby from either of them, not that Rogue would be inclined to."
"That's good," said Kurt, with a sigh of relief. He and Rogue were close, in sibling sort of way. Not mention they were remotely related through Mystique. Both were outcasts, one by his appearance, and the other by her deadly touch. They had a sort of unique bond, and found comfort in each other. But no matter what, you could never get to close to Rogue.
The small thump the jet made when it touched down snapped Kurt out of his thoughts. They had arrived.
Time to go find Rogue.
"Dere he is," whispered Gambit to Rogue, "An' he no look like he in any trouble. Maybe we should-"
"Ah! Remy, mon fils! You donno how glad I be to see ya." Jean-Luc walked over to Gambit and Rogue. He looked at her and then Gambit and then her again. "Dis' your new fille?"
"Not real-"
"I swear, you go through dose like you go though decks of cards!"
Rogue gave Gambit a dirty look.
"Say, I know you!" Jean-Luc exclaimed. "You dat girl dat help save me from dose baddies! Did le diable blanc kidnap you 'gain?" He looked at Gambit. "Dere are better ways t'get a girl dan stealing her. Did I teach you nothing back home? Remember when-"
"Cut da lecture," Gambit interrupted. "We're here t'help you, but it seem like dere ain nobody t'help. Whad do ya want? Money?"
Jean-Luc looked down and steepled his fingers. "Well, about dat… I need your help wit' dis bounty of mine. Inside the Louvre-"
"I ain' a thief anymore, Father. I left dat back in New Orleans." He took Rogue by the arm and started walking up the line.
"Wait son! You don' know what dis mean to the Guild! If we steal dis jewel, den we go down in guild histoire! Please come back t'me, son!"
Gambit turned to his father with both anger and pity in his eyes. "I left dat life long time ago an' I ain' goin' back. You be fine on your own." Then he gave the tickets to the ticket collector and entered the museum, Rogue in arm.
The Louvre was torture to Gambit. It was as if he was an alcoholic walking through a liquor store. He looked around trying to pretend that he was admiring the art, when he was in reality wondering how much this painting would fetch on the market and how he could make off with it. But he was trying to resist the calls from his past, he really was.
Rogue saw his uneasement. "You okay there?"
"Yeah, I be fine. It jus' dat, well, I be a thief all my life an' now I'm in da Louvre and surrounded by so much t'steal…" His voice trailed off.
"We can go, if you want, Ah mean-"
"No, dats okay. Gambit deal wit' it." He tried to calm the anxiety that was building within him. This was going to be a long day.
Erik woke up to find himself shackled to a hard, stone wall. He looked at his bindings. Metal chains. Someone who had the power to abduct him would bind him with metal manacles. No, he thought, there must be something more, no one could be that stupid.
It was then that he noticed the odd piece of technology wrapped around his forehead. It must be some sort of inhibitor. So, I use my powers, I get zapped. Joy.
"So I see you figured out my little electromagnetic obstructer. Smart cookie."
Erik watched as a female, probably in her mid-30s, stepped out. She had a ridiculously low voice, as if she were a large man in disguise. She was cloaked in a bluish-black (as all bad-guys tend to be) and had a red tinge to her eyes.
"Why am I here?" Erik asked.
"You couldn't figure that out?" she mocked in her absurdly deep voice. "Honestly Magnus, I thought you were smarter than that."
"You didn't answer my question," he said sharply.
"Oh, I will in a moment Magnus. But by then it will be too late." She walked over to the manacled Erik and placed her hands firmly on his temples. "I'm about to drive your conscious out of this realm."
Erik felt his mind being pushed away by a stronger one. And while this was present he could only think one thing: I should have never gotten rid of that helmet.