Whump. Ororo punched her pillow, flipping it over for the hundredth time. She flung herself back against the offensive collection of cotton with a humph, hair billowing like a cloud around her head. This is ridiculous, she thought. I am grown woman, a few unsettling thoughts are not going to keep me from sleeping. She closed her eyes with determination. They were open an instant later.
It was no use; every time she shut her eyes she saw dark shapes, and cloaked figures, she heard angry voices calling out to her, cursing her. She shuddered, pulling one of the pillows over her face, muffling her squeal of frustration. She flung it aside angrily.
Turning Ororo gazed at the picture she had placed on her nightstand before bed. It was a picture of Logan, lounging against his bike, looking every inch the devil's own temptation to weak willed women. She ran a finger lovingly down the frame. He had left early that morning for his assignment with Scott and Rogue. They would be in California for the next few days, and despite her reassuring him that she was fine and could take care of herself, a small part of her wished he was with her now.
She looked at the clock beside the picture with a grimace: 2:15 am. One of Logan's more colorful phrases popped into her head, and she chuckled.
"What so funny, padnat?"
"Remy!" Ororo bolted upright in bed, instinctively sending a blast of air in the direction of Gambit's smooth drawl. She heard him curse, as his feet were taken out from under him. She clicked on the bedside lamp revealing Remy's sprawled form a few feet from the bed. He scrambled to his feet with catlike agility. Ororo rose, striding towards him, eyes flashing. He started to say something but was interrupted by her fist meeting his face.
"You left me!" she accused. "You left me!" She shoved at his chest.
"Stormy, listen! Remy will explain everytin' jus' calm down." He rubbed his jaw. A thin trickle of blood sliding down his chin from the cut on his lip. Immediately she reached out, wiping it away with her thumb, an old habit of hers, taking care of his wounds. His eyes closed at her touch and his breath left his lungs shakily.
"Don't call me that," she said softly. He opened his eyes, regret, remorse, and pain all reflected there. She stepped forward embracing him. He became rigid, uncertain. She squeezed, and with a choked sound he hugged her back.
"Remy don' understand." he said clearly confused.
Ororo stepped away from him, sat on the corner of her bed and studied him. He looked like hell. Thinner than when she saw him last, his face shadowed with days old growth, dark circles under his eyes. She told him as much.
"T'anks, chere. Matches 'ow I feel, den." He sat beside her hesitantly as if he expected her to lash out at him again. He looked her up and down. "You look…well." He paused, noticing the dark green and black flannel shirt she was wearing. He recognized it as one of Wolverine's. His hands closed into fists and a tick started in the corner of his jaw.
"You mean for having my ass handed to me by Sabertooth. Then yeah, I guess I do look well."
"Takin' language lessons from da Wolverine, chere?" Gambit couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "Among ot'er t'ings." he mumbled.
"I did not catch that last part, Gambit. Care to repeat it?" her voice was cold, eyes ice blue.
Remy looked away, clenching his teeth. Ever since the other night when he had witnessed her in the woods, clinging to Wolverine, lost in the throes of passion, making sounds he'd only ever heard her make in his most secret dreams, he'd felt like he'd lost a part of himself. Stormy was his constant, his certainty and now that all had changed.
He turned to her now; she sat studying him, her head tilted to one side, a river of snow flowing down her arm. She was supposed to always be his, he thought.
The logical part of Gambit knew it wasn't fair of him to expect her to always be there for him, always be available when he needed a friend, a shoulder, unconditional acceptance, but he had expected it none the less. He had always assumed she was above the wants and desires of regular women. He had always foolishly thought that she would not need anyone else, as long as she had him. He drew in a deep breath. There was a place in his heart that was Stormy's and hers alone, and it was a bigger place than he cared to admit, even to himself.
"I think it is past time for explanations, my friend." Ororo said when he did not say anything.
"Am I, Stormy?"
"Are you what?"
"Your friend." The uncertainty in his voice tore at her heart.
"Of course you are."
"Even after I lied to ya?"
"I do not believe for one second that you meant to."
Remy ran one leather clad hand down his face wearily. "Ah, but I did, chere."
Ororo felt her stomach knot but said nothing. There was an explanation, surely there was. This was her best friend, her brother. He would not have intentionally betrayed her, she just knew he wouldn't have.
He looked so lost. She touched his face with the tips of her fingers. "Tell me."
He caught her hand, kissing her palm. "You would hear me out, after…" he couldn't finish. In his mind flashed images of Storm battered and bloody, fighting for her life while he kneeled helpless, unable to move, unable to save her. He lowered his head.
"Remy, of course I will listen to you. I know you. I know you here," she touched his forehead with her index finger. "I know you here," she touched his chest, directly over his thudding heart. "And I know you here," she placed his hand over her heart, holding onto him when he would have pulled away, as if touching her scalded him. "Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength; loving someone deeply gives you courage. You have both in you."
"Ahh, Stormy…" He pressed his head into her shoulder, wrapping his arms around her, holding her like she was life itself and he was a dying man. She stroked his auburn hair patiently.
Ororo pressed her cheek against the top of his head, happy that her friend had come home at last. She knew Logan would have an absolute fit if he knew that Gambit was here, but he was away from the mansion--
"Remy?"
"Hm?"
"How long have you been spying on me?"
A pause. He could lie, but he wouldn't. "Long enough t' know Iceman ain't got not'in on you, Stormy."
She gave an outraged gasp, followed by an indignant snort. "Pervert," was the only reprimand she gave him. He looked like he had enough guilt and remorse on his plate, no need to over feed, she thought.
"When you are ready to talk, I will listen." She rose, walking towards the balcony. Without a word he followed her.
She opened the double doors, greeting the evening breeze with a sigh. The sky was crystal clear, infinite stars as far as she could see. The night sky at its deepest had always reminded her of Logan. Dark and often frightening, filled with infinite dimensions, infinite possibilities, and breathtaking beauty when one looked deep enough.
"Does he make ya happy, Stormy?" Gambit asked quietly as if reading her thoughts. She heard the strike of a match and smelled the familiar scent of his cigarette. Funny the things she had missed during his absence.
"He is my night sky," she responded, smiling her Mona Lisa smile. He said nothing, approaching her from behind, wrapping his arms around her and resting his whiskered chin on her hair.
"Missed ya, padnat. Thought I lost you. I wasn't sure I'd ever see you again. Had t' come see you though. Couldn' leave it like it was."
"I am glad, my brother. I sorely missed you as well. I am, however, still waiting for a reason behind your sudden desire to be rid of me." Although she was trying to tease she felt Gambit stiffen behind her.
"Come, let's get comfy, chere. It is a long story and I t'ink I'd rather be sittin' durin' da telling', if you don' mind." He reached for her hand, strolling back into the loft. He was limping she noticed.
"Remy?"
"Yeah, Stormy?"
"It will not matter what you tell me. I love you regardless."
"How did I ever get so lucky, padnat, as t' 'ave you in my life?"
Ororo temporarily halted, reflecting on their first meeting. She'd fallen two stories, she remembered, and ended up landing in an extremely cold swimming pool. The most handsome young man she'd ever laid eyes on knelt before her. He was dressed in black with a brown trench coat and a friendly grin that reached straight to his red on black eyes. "Little late for a swim, eh, chere?" he had asked with a laugh, instantly winning her heart. He became her mentor, provider, and best friend.
"You must have been a very good boy in a previous life," she said.
"Yeah, musta been," he agreed throat tight, knowing they were sharing the same memory. She reached up, tugging his trademark duster from his shoulders and tossing it onto her 'comfy' chair with an absent flip of her wrist. Gambit dropped onto her bed with a bounce, pulling off his black boots. He scooted back until he was pressed against the pillows guarding the headboard and motioned for her to join him.
Ororo climbed in beside him, switching off the lamp as they settled into their most comfortable and familiar position, her head on his chest, his hands fiddling with her hair. "I didn' want you t' be hurt," he said softly after several minutes to which Ororo made no reply. She knew Remy, knew he would talk to her, tell her everything that she needed to know, but he would do it at his own pace.
"I wanna tell ya it wasn' me who took ya away from here. If only I could-- But it was me. Or at least mostly me." He shook his head. "I still don' fully understand myself what made me feel like dat... It's 'ard t' explain. It was like I woke up one day and had t' get you away from here. As far away as I could. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn' shake da feelin' that if you stayed somet'in bad was gonna 'appen t' you. Obviously a bad judgment call on my part as we both know. Ya couldna been more hurt den you were--"
"What did you think was going to happen, Remy, when you sold me to Sinister or Sabertooth or whomever it was you traded me to?" she interrupted, feeling the stirrings of anger.
Remy stiffened once again. "What ya talkin' 'bout, chere? I never sold you? Traded you? What?" He was pissed now, his red on black eyes glowing in the dark.
"Remy. I saw Mystique with you, I saw you take a bag of money."
"Well, hell, Stormy, I am a thief before I'm anything else. O' course I took a bag full of money. But I sure as fuck didn't try t' sell you to Sabertooth or Sinister or whoever the hell else you t'ink I would. Where would you get an idea like dat?" he was hurt. She could hear it in his voice. She furrowed her brow in confusion.
"There was a note. You sent Rogue a note, saying that you were going to barter me in exchange for a clean slate or some such deal."
"Pffft. Remy smarter den dat, padnat. You t'ink if I was goin' to sell you like some piece of horseflesh to de highest biddin' baddie, I would leave a fuckin' note?"
"Language," she corrected automatically. Gambit rarely swore with such verve, only when he was really upset and upset he was if the faint glow she was detecting from his hands was any indication.
"I took you to New Orleans cause I had made arrangements wit' Jean-Luc. He was gonna send some guild after us ta make ya t'ink Remy was in trouble. T' keep you away from dis place." He waved his hand in broad stroke.
"Well, then who was the man we met on the street, the one in the cloak?"
"At first I thought he was whoever Papa 'ad sent, and by de time I realized it was no one from any guild, I was on de ground 'aving a heart attack. Next t'ing I know we're surrounded by de fuckin' evil Brady Bunch, and you," he squeezed her hard, "are fightin' that slobbering buffoon like some Amazon goddess." Gambit stopped talking momentarily caught up in the horrible memories of that day, of watching his padnat on the ground bleeding, and him kneeling there helpless. Watching her die…
"I believe you," she said bringing him back to the present. "Then why did you leave me?" This time the hurt was in her voice.
Remy took a deep, steadying breath. "I blamed myself for what 'appened. I lied to ya, took ya away from da safety of da mansion, and I just couldn'--God, Stormy, ya looked like you were goin' t' die. I couldn' take it. I ran. I'm a coward, I know."
"Remy. I am a goddess, and goddesses do not befriend cowards."
Despite his mood, Remy chuckled. Christ, she had thought he had tried to sell her! Didn't she know she was priceless to him? Beyond value? Even more amazing was that she had still been willing to see him, to hear him out. Gambit felt blessed for such a gift as her friendship in his life. He thought back to Rogue abandoning him in the snow and cold after she'd found out some of his unsavory past. She hadn't been willing to listen, instead she had been only too eager to leave him to die. She was sorry, she said, and he was trying to forgive her. But it was hard. Some betrayals you just never get over. He looked down at Storm, who was tapping one long finger against her chin, deep in thought.
"The facts as they stand now are: you had an overwhelming urge to remove me from the mansion. You in turn lied to me to get me to travel to New Orleans, where you were going to have some Guild members harass us so that I would stay, thinking you needed me, but somehow we got sold out and Sabertooth, Mystique and weird cloak guy stepped in to apparently kidnap me and set you up. Does that sound about right?"
Remy grinned awkwardly. "Yep, dat 'bout sums it up."
"Good. Now all we have to do is figure out who and why."
"Jus' like dat?" he teased.
"Yes, Gambit. Just like that. This person or persons hurt my friends, hurt my family and they will pay for it. They will pay dearly." She practically growled it.
"Ah, you are takin' lesson from da Wolverine."
Ororo swatted his arm. He hadn't betrayed her! Her heart was full to bursting! She was alive, Gambit was home, and she was in love with Logan. Life suddenly seemed perfect.
"Tell me, padnat, what other neat tricks do ya do when you and Wolv--"
"Gambit, I am warning you. Do not finish that sentence."
"As you wish, padnat. Whatever your heart desires…"
San Fransisco Bay
Docks
"See anything, Wolverine?" Scott Summer's deep voice traveled over the earpiece embedded deep in Logan's ear.
"Nothin' yet." He, Scott and Rogue were spread in triangle formation around an old shipping warehouse on the San Francisco bay. Logan sniffed the air. Car oil, ocean water, seafood, sweat, and some other miscellaneous aromas filled his nostrils, but he detected nothing out of the ordinary.
"Rogue?" Scott again.
"Clear from up here, shugah. Just what exactly are we looking for?"
"Anything out of the ordinary. The Professor said that Cerebro picked up some strange readings coming from this area."
"Strange how?"
"Would you two mind playing twenty questions later," Wolverine growled. "Looks like we may have some action after all." From behind a stack of crates two figures hurriedly darted in and out of sight, making their way along one of the warehouse walls.
"What do you see, Wolverine?"
"Open yer eye, Cyke, and take a look at the east dock." He sniffed the air again. Still nothing out of the ordinary, but he felt the stirrings of unease, the hairs on his neck tingling. Instinct told him the two figures now opening one of the warehouse doors were looking for trouble, and his instincts had never let him down before. "Two men, making their way towards ya , Rogue. Whaddya see, darlin'?" Wolverine was moving towards the warehouse crouched low, claws slowly extending with a soft -snikt-.
"Yer clear at move in, whoever they are they seem pretty intent on what their doin'."
"Stand down, Wolverine. We are not to engage, only observe." Scott's voice barked in his ear. "Get back to your post. Now."
Wolverine retracted his claws, muttering an unsavory epithet under his breath, grudgingly complying with Scott's request to stand down. He never liked taking orders from Scooter, never would, but he wasn't in the mood to fight. All he wanted to do was complete the assignment and get home to 'Ro.
Wolverine still couldn't believe his good fortune where she was concerned. Ororo had been many things to him over the years, his best friend, teammate, leader and now she was his greatest love. Not just now, he mused, had always been. Even when he had believed himself in love with Jean, Mariko, Yuiko, Silver Fox and the endless others in his long and illustrious life, she had always been a constant part of him, and no one else had come close to capturing his heart the way 'Ro had. It was like comparing the flame from a candle to the blazing heat of the sun. It was terrifying to feel so intensely, but he welcomed the terror so long as he had her in his life.
"They don't appear to be mutants," Scott said over the wire. "Burglars, maybe, but not mutants."
"So we just gonna watch them break into that warehouse, Scotty?" Rogue asked incredulously.
"We're not the police, Rogue. Sometimes it's best to keep a low profile. We don't need to advertise our presence. Besides I am sure a warehouse that size has some sort of silent alarm."
"Yer kiddin' me. The boy scout doesn't wanna rush in and save the day?" Wolverine chuckled.
"Can it, Wolverine." Scott's voice was hard. "Rushing into things without thinking of the consequences is what you do."
Wolverine stiffened. Suddenly this conversation had nothing to do with the two men now entering the dark warehouse, and everything to do with something else entirely. "Ya got something' t' say, One-eye?"
"No time for this now, gents. Looks like we have more company." Rogue's southern drawl interrupting them. Overhead a black helicopter hovered, spotlight coming on with a snap, searching the boating docks.
"This is the SFPD we have you surrounded!"
Wolverine could almost hear Scott's 'I told you so', and it made his lip curl. He reached under the leather mask covering the top half of his face and pulled his earpiece from his ear, letting it dangle uselessly over his shoulder. He could really go for a beer right now. A beer and 'Ro. The thought made him smile. He had actually enjoyed sitting on the couch in the living room, beer in hand, 'Ro on his arm, watching movies with some of the students. Not that he'd ever admit that to anyone else.
He was nearly back to the top of his lookout point when his nose picked up a vaguely familiar scent and a swirl of black caught his eye. He tensed, ready to launch.
Seemingly emerging from the shadows along the bushes a cloaked form stood a few feet away. Wolverine was unnerved by the fact that he hadn't sensed the cloaked figure's presence until he was nearly on top of him. Abruptly the figure made a motion and Wolverine dropped to his knees, gagging and clutching his throat, eyes bulging and blood spewing from his mouth.
"Wolverine! Wolverine! He's not responding, Cyclops." From the earpiece on his shoulder Wolverine heard Rogue's worried tone.
"Reply, Wolverine!" Cyke.
"Engaged, Scooter!" Wolverine let out a snarl, fighting against the pain lancing throughout his body. From behind him he heard footsteps racing down the slope towards where he knelt and the dark form hovered.
The cloaked shape heard it too and was momentarily distracted. A small opening was all Wolverine needed. He leapt high and struck hard, his blades sinking into the folds of the cloak with unerring accuracy, only to find himself enveloped in their swirling shadows, tumbling through the air, surrounded by pitch black, no light, no reprieve from the never-ending dark.
"Wolverine!" Rogue's voice seemed far away, muffled like he was under water. All around him the darkness was hissing. A voice broke through the darkness, cold and malevolent.
"The doorway, where is she? She is ours, bring her to ussss."
"Don't know what yer blabbering about," Wolverine snarled. The shadows were clinging to his skin, slithering up his arms and legs, wrapping around him like oily tentacles, choking him. It was getting harder to breathe.
"She is our! She is ours! Will not resssst until she is oursss!" Wolverine felt cold fingers brush against his skin, across his eyes and images of Storm flashed through his mind, pulled forward by force from whatever creature lay beyond the darkness. "Yesss… the doorway. She must die! She is ours! Must die! Ours! Ours! Ourssss!" The strange voices were becoming frantic in their chanting, and the shadow coils around Wolverine's neck tightened agonizingly. He couldn't breathe, all air cut off by the slithering arms.
"Wrong!" Wolverine panted, working his hands up to his neck, prying the tentacles away from his flesh. "She's mine!"-SNIKT-
Instinct told him where to strike and he thrust his right arm forward, felt his claws sink into soft tissue, the creature giving a satisfying shriek of agony. Immediately Wolverine found himself on all fours, looking down at the damp ground, gasping for air.
"Wolverine! Behind you!" Scott warned, racing across the slope, hand on his visor. The warning was unnecessary as Wolverine had already sensed the presence rising behind him and twisted, arm lashing out catching his assailant at the knees, effectively dropping his attacker.
The dark cloak fell open revealing a pale form with several dark eyes, sharp protruding teeth and a forked tongue that flicked out angrily. "No ussse, mortal. The doorway is ours. We see her now, she isss oursss!" The demonic creature began to thrash wildly on the ground, a broken mantra of strange sounds and words coming from its reptilian lips as its body literally boiled from the inside out.
"Wolverine, you all right, shugah?" Rogue reached his side, making a face at the sight of the dissolved creature.
"What in the hell was that?" Scott demanded coming up behind Rogue.
"Don't know." Wolverine said raggedly. "We need to get back to the Institute now!" Wolverine was already moving towards their hidden blackbird.
"Wolverine! Wait, what's going on?" Rogue took to the air, flying beside him.
"That thing wanted Storm, kept calling her a door or some shit. I don't know what's goin' on, but I mean t' find out." Wolverine broke into a run.
Once inside the Blackbird Scott contacted Jean, relaying what little information he had gotten out of Wolverine. Jean had assured him that although the Mutant Rights conference was extended, she would join them at the mansion, leaving Xavier and Hank to deal with the politics.
"Okay, people, let's go home." Cyclops stated, flipping the ignite switch, the engines flaming to life, the jet lifting slowly off the ground.
"Scott! Lookout!" Rogue screamed as an inky black tentacle much larger than the ones Wolverine had been grappling with appeared out of nowhere, enveloping the Blackbird.
As darkness surrounded the three of them Wolverine could hear the demon creatures raspy voices in his mind once again: 'bring usss the doorway. She's oursss, she will die!'
"Like hell!" He roared, claws extending. The windows of the jet imploded, glass slicing through the air, embedding in seats and skin.
Xavier Institute
"Gambit. Gambit, wake up." Ororo leaned over the sleeping form in her bed, shaking his shoulder. "Remy, get up."
"Hnh? What's da matter, padnat?" his voice was groggy.
"I can not explain it. Something does not feel right. We should check on the children." She was pulling on a pair of black sweat pants.
Gambit rose, instantly awake. He picked his duster up from where it lay across Ororo's overstuffed chair, pulling his extendable adamantium Bo staff from the inside pocket. With a snap of his wrist he extended it to its full length. "Ready."
Quietly they stepped into the hallway, moving slow as to accustom themselves to the darkness. Each room they checked was quiet and secure. Closing Jubilee's bedroom door Gambit said, "Everyt'in seems fine. Check de upstairs jus' ta be safe, non?"
Ororo nodded. Maybe she was just being paranoid, disturbed by her bad dreams, nevertheless she would much rather make certain before returning to bed. "Yes. I am probably being irrational, but I would like to be certain."
"Stormy de most rational person I know. If ya say der's somet'in wrong, chere, Gambit not question it."
"All right, then let us check--"
CRASH!
"What was dat?" Gambit took a defensive stance, staff ready.
"It came from outside." Ororo whispered. She floated down the stairs towards the front door intent on rushing outside, but as her fingers curled around the brass handle she felt a stirring in her mind, a flash of caution. She could sense Jean trying to reach her, the message was unclear, fragments of warning.
Ororo took a deep breath, readying herself to face whatever lay outside the front door of the Institute. She took a deep breath, eyes clouding white, lightening chasing the strands of hair swirling about her head. She heard the whir of Gambit spinning his staff. "Ready when you are, chere." Ororo yanked open the door
"Aaaaah!" A small form fell away from the door, hands flying up to protect its face.
"Kitty!" Ororo exclaimed. "Bright Lady, do you realize how close you just came to getting fried!" She reached down, pulling the younger girl off the front stoop, onto her feet. "It is three in the morning, Kitten. Would you care to explain why you are banging around out here?"
"I, uh, I um…hm. Funny story…" Kitty began, but was interrupted by Ororo.
"Peter Rasputin! I see you over there, front and center!" The rather large Peter poked his head around the slender maple he was attempting to hide behind.
"Oh, uh, hey, Storm. Nice night, huh?" he walked towards her whistling, his smile nervous.
"Yes, Peter. A very nice night, however, it is well past curfew and you two are supposed to be in bed." Ororo's voice was stern.
"I t'ink dat was de boys general idea," Gambit drawled, leaning against his bo staff taking in Kitty's disheveled appearance and Peter's new shade of lipstick.
Ororo snapped her head around, eyes flashing in silent warning, but she couldn't keep the slight quirk of her lips hidden from him.
Remy chuckled softly. "Der was a time, Stormy, when you were de one sneakin' outta da mansion in da middle o' de night."
Kitty took a step away from the door, hand flying to her mouth as she gasped, finally recognizing the man in the shadows. "What's he doing here?" she hissed. "He's a traitor, Storm! Has he hurt you?" Kitty demanded.
Peter's skin rippled, silver steel materializing over his muscular frame. "Get behind me, Storm." He reached for her arm.
Gambit smirked, not moving from his casual stance. "Is he serious, chere?"
"Step aside, Storm. I will handle this traitor." Peter took a step forward.
"Do not be ridiculous, Peter." Ororo placed a restraining hand on his chest. "Gambit is an X-man, and my friend. You will not touch him."
"Storm, I love the fact that you're all gung-ho loyal to your buddies, but this guy nearly got you killed. He's a traitor, even Rogue says so." Kitty exclaimed. Storm heard Gambit's indrawn breath, knowing he was hurt by that last statement.
"I believe we have been over this already, Kitty. As for what Rogue says, well, it is foolish for her to cast stones when the stones that will be returned are boulders compared to pebbles." Ororo said angrily.
"Meaning?" Kitty asked.
"Meaning that there are times, Kitten, when people do the wrong thing for all the right reasons." She looked over her shoulder, giving Remy a soft smile that told him in no uncertain terms he had been forgiven and she had understood. Turning back to Kitty and Peter, Ororo continued, saying, "Gambit has proven himself a loyal X-man and friend more times than I can count, and anyone who says differently will answer to me." She placed her hand on the young woman's shoulder. " I sincerely hope you think about all he has done for us, for you, before you toss around hurtful words such a traitor."
"Sorry," Kitty mumbled, casting Gambit an apologetic glance. "If Storm believes you, then that is good enough for me."
"Me as well," Peter said, warm flesh returning where cold steel was but a moment before. "But let us face facts, there are others who will not be so forgiving," he reminded.
"Do not concern yourselves. Off to bed now, both of you. We will pretend that this little incident never happened. Goodnight." Ororo stepped aside allowing the young mutants entry into the mansion. Both nodded their heads at Gambit as they passed, in return he gave them his trademark sardonic smile, but it did not reach his eyes.
Once they were alone again Ororo sighed heavily. "Remy, about Rogue--"
"Don', Stormy." Gambit's voice was uncharacteristically dull.
"Remy, she is feeling betrayed, she thinks you left her. I am certain once you explain everything to her, things will work out."
"You t'ink so, chere, 'cause I don'." He snapped his staff down to palm size. "And I don' know dat it ever will."
"Gambit…" Ororo hesitated, unsure what to say. She hated seeing her friend hurting, but knew that this was something he and Rogue had to sort through on their own. "I am here if you need me," was all she could think to say.
"Merci, chere." Gambit reached over, hugging her to him.
Ororo opened her mouth to say something when suddenly she felt sick, her head swimming, pain lancing through her body. "Goddess…" She would have crumpled if not for Gambit's supporting arms.
"Stormy?" Gambit asked, worry etched on his handsome face. He moved her to the living room, seating her on the couch. "What is it?"
Leaning forward Ororo placed her hand over her heart. "Logan. He needs me."