The Circumstances of Profundity
By Katee
Kurt/Gambit
Notes: This is eventually going to be slash, but for now it's just a budding romance. :) This is the post-Antarctica trial universe, so the rest of the bunch still hold a grudge against Remy. Rogue and Remy aren't together, just friends, and Scott and Jean are married.
Chapter One
The mansion was silent, save for the old grandfather clock ticking away in the hall. All the x-men had long since gone to bed; it was now the early hours of the morning. The brass door handle turned slowly, and with a click the door swung open to admit a lone figure. Keeping to the shadows, it crept towards the stairway to the right. Suddenly, a loud creak resounded throughout the entranceway; the figure had stepped on a loose board. The inscrutible person froze in their tracks, worried that someone had heard them. After a few seconds of silence, it resumed its journey to the stairs.
The lights flicked on. "Remy. Where have you been." Scott stood in the shadows near the lightswitch, a concerned and slightly upset look on his face. Remy LeBeau grimaced in the soft hallway light. "Nowheres..." He started to creep off towards the banister when Scott spoke again. "Remy. You've been drinking." It wasn't a question. Remy straightened his thin frame and frowned.
"So what iffa have been, eh? Gambit's an adult, he c'n take care of hisself." Scott walked over to where he stood, the light hitting his face for the first time. Remy noticed how angry he looked, and paused for a moment.
"No, you can't. You're completely shitfaced, and you drove yourself home. That's not a decision an adult makes." Remy slouched back down again, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his duster. "All right, all right. No need to concern y'self with me, frere." Turning, he strode with purpose towards the stairs again, trying to escape.
"I won't have you jeapordizing the team because you're too wasted to focus, Gambit." Remy stopped in his tracks, turning slowly to face Scott. Sadness loomed out of his eyes, and Scott began to worry more seriously about his team mate.
"I said all right, den. I'll be fine." That said, he disappeared up the stairs to his room.
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Logan was having trouble sleeping again. The past few nights had been restless ones for him, nightmares welling up out of his dark slumber to haunt his mind until he woke screaming. Thankfully nobody but Remy shared a room near his, and the Cajun had never had problems with his late-night panic attacks in the past.
Rubbing his dark-rimmed eyes, he stood and walked over to the window. Outside it was still pitch black, the stars hidden by storm clouds from earlier in the day. Resting his forehead against the cool glass, he sighed. Nights like these were why he hated being Wolverine. The past was always there for him, embracing him. He could never escape the images in his mind; they would haunt him for the rest of his life. A sob escaped his lips.
A noise came from outside his bedroom, and he quickly wiped his eyes. Nobody could ever see him weak like this. Walking over to the door, he cracked it and peered out into the hallway. Remy was coming in late again.
Logan cursed mentally. The red-eyed Cajun had been staying out all night for a month now, not coming in until a few hours before sunrise. Logan was troubled by his not getting home safely, he was always drunk when he got back. Stepping out into the hallway, he noticed Remy jump and turn towards him at the sound. Logan's eyes widened with surprise. Remy had not been sleeping either, it seemed. His own eyes were bruised and tired, the lids sagging low over the blood-red orbs.
"Remy? You okay?" The Cajun looked up at his face, then away towards the ground as he mumbled a response. Logan watched him sway unsteadily for a few seconds before walking over to help him stay upright. Remy tried to brush him off at first, batting at his arm as it went around his shoulders, but Logan was firm about it, so he gave in. Half-dragging him into his bedroom, Logan wondered at how light he felt, angry that he had not noticed his fellow friend's deteriorating health sooner.
Letting him slide down onto the bed, Logan stood back and looked at him for a second. "You goin' to be okay?" Remy nodded his head slowly. Seeing as there was really nothing more that could be done for Remy, Logan left the room, shutting the door firmly behind him. Back in his own bedroom, he contemplated over his friend's strange behavior. Obviously there was something gravely wrong, and Logan decided he would find out what it was.
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Remy awoke the next morning in a great deal of pain. "Ohhhhh... m'head..." He rose unsteadily to his feet and swayed for a second before the room stopped spinning. Walking into the bathroom, he searched about for something to call off the jackhammer in his head. After rinsing a few pills down, he stripped his clothes off and stepped into the shower. The hot steam rose all around him causing his eyes to go unfocused. Letting himself gaze off into the distance, he stood there for how long he wasn't sure. After a bit, he realized something was pounding besides the space behind his eyes, and he came back to reality. It was the door.
Remy shut off the water and wrapped a towel around himself before sauntering over to the door. It was Kurt. Surprised to see him at his door this early, Remy invited him inside after a few seconds' hesitation.
"Um, what c'n I do for y', Kurt?" The fuzzy blue teleporter looked a bit uncomfortable as well before speaking. "Well, Scott wanted me to—" He got no further before an irritated look crossed Remy's face, silencing him.
"That guy just won' lemme be! Remy told him he was fine, mais il ne comprends, eh?" Kurt looked at him with a bit of a blush on his cheeks. In his frustration, Remy had lost his grip on the towel. It was now pooled around his ankles. Remy finally realized what Kurt was so flustered about, and he sighed. "'s not like we haven' shared de showers afore, homme." Kurt blushed deeper, clearing his throat.
"Actually, I was sent here to see that you were still going to make it to training today, nein? If not, Scott sas you can have ze day off." Remy realized his mistake and looked down. "I'm sorry, Kurt. Yes, Remy'll be there. Merci pour commin' up here t'ask me." Kurt nodded, then looked at an imaginary spot on the carpet.
"Are you coming to breakfast, Remy?" Looking up at him, Remy smiled nervously. "I, uh, I already mange dis morning, frere. But t'anks f'asking." Remy didn't want the others to get worried baout him needlessly, he just wasn't hungry, that's all. A cigarette or two was a good enough breakfast for him.
"Well, I suppose I will see you later, den." Kurt nodded in Remy's direction and left, a still-dripping Remy staring after him.
Ten minutes later Remy was ready to head downstairs. He ambled down the steps slowly, appreciating the quietness of the mansion. Everybody must have already gotten to breakfast, he mused. Remy always had been a late riser, and drinking all night certainly didn't help. After a moment's contemplation, Remy headed outside. He found his favorite chair in the corner and sat, drawing a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and proceeding to light one.
The air was already warming up, and Remy could tell it was going to be a perfect summer day. Remy let his eyes wander down to where the cigarette ashes drifted to rest at his feet, his eyes unfocusing for a moment. Suddenly he realized there was ashes mixing in that weren't his. His gaze strayed back up and with a yelp he jumped away from Logan who stood nearby with his own cigar.
"Logan, homme, don' do dat t'me!" Breathing heavily, he worked his way back into his chair. Logan ambled past him and sat in the rocker nearby, inhaling deeply from his cigar. He chuckled lightly to himself as he rocked back and forth. Remy glared at him in mock fury. "We aughta put some bells on you, Wolvie," he muttered to himself. Logan only laughed, however, his expression quickly grew somber.
"Kid, do you remember anythin' from last night?" Remy only stared at him. "Whatchu mean? Gambit don' member nothin'. What happen?"
"You were completely drunk and I had to carry you into yer room, that's what happened." Remy grimaced. "Oh, s'that's how I got in der. T'anks." Logan looked over at his friend. "I'm serious, LeBeau. What's goin' on with ya? Yer never home until well after midnight, ya don't eat with nobody anymore, let alone talk to 'em, yer quiet, depressed and frankly, yer bein' stupid drivin' home drunk like that all the time. What's goin' on?"
Remy could only gape. He'd noticed all of this? That must mean... "Do you t'ink d'udders have noticed aussi?" Logan frowned. "That's not the point and you know it, Gumbo. I want to know what's up."
Realizing there was no way of escaping the inevitable answer, Remy sniffed. "T'ings... dey just don' go de way you wan 'em to, y' know?" Logan sat listening, encouraging him to go on. "I don' know! There's this person..." He trailed off, but that was all Logan needed to hear.
"Well, so that's your problem. I thought it probably had somethin' to do with that romantic nature o' yours. So what's the problem then? They don't like ya back?" Remy smiled sadly to himself.
"Parles-toi ca."
"English, Cajun."
"'s complicated, ok? I don' know what t'do. Dis person, dey's always around, but I got no way t'get to 'em. Dey would never look at dis thief and want him, dat's de way it is."
Logan understood what Remy was saying. He himself had loved a few who didn't love him back. Not many, but a few. "Who is it?" Remy didn't want to tell him. He would rather not have something that Logan could use against him later. However, considering how nice he was being, perhaps his secret was safe with the older man. His expression was a bit guarded as he faced Logan. "Pourquoi's you bein' so nice t'Remy, anyways?"
Logan chuckled. "I'm just worried 'boutcha, kid. That's all. You can tell me. I promise not to spread it 'round the place, okay?" That was good enough for Remy. He glanced around suspiciously and lowered his voice. "Kurt."
End of Chapter One
The Circumstances of Profundity
Chapter Two
Logan was shocked. "The Elf?" Remy frowned to himself.
"Well, yes, but—"
"Remy, all I can say to this is that I sure didn't see it comin', that's all. I mean, we are talking about the same guy, right?"
Remy nodded. "Yeah."
Logan shook his head at him, grinning. "Well, you've got yourself in a sorry mess fer sure. What is it about him that you like so much, anyways?" The Cajun lowered his gaze, his cheeks coloring a bit.
"Well, for starters, hes nice."
"Nice. Okay, good start. What else."
"He's always there for me. Remember when I was, um," He stuttered over the words, remembering.
"When you were left in Antarctica." Remy nodded.
"He was t' one who looked f'me. Oui, he was de nouvelle homme on de team, he didn' even know why I was left, but still, he came f'me! I'd only talked t'im a few times on de phone and met him once, and dere he was a' my door to take m' back. I'll nevvuh b' able t' t'ank 'im enough f' gettin' ol' Remy t' come back here from de city. Never."
Logan smiled in agreement. "Yeah. I never understood why he did that. I mean, he honestly didn't know you, did he?"
"Non. He didn'. An' tha's why Remy loves 'im. He's da sweetest guy ever. ...Too bad I don' deserve him." The last part was whispered, so Logan had to listen hard to hear it, but he caught the words all the same. He was surprised at Remy's negative attitude. The x-man had never spoken of himself with such despair, and it troubled Logan. This was obviously more than just longing for a relationship; this was far more serious.
"Cajun," he began, faltering. He wasn't sure what to say or how to comfort him, so he fell back into silence for a moment to catch his words.
"What makes you think you don't deserve to be with Kurt." Those red eyes slid up to Logan's face and held. Logan saw years of depression and torture behind them, a world of pain he had never been allowed to see until now.
"Come on, kid. You're more than good enough for him, for anybody! Get a hold of yerself." Remy sighed. "You don' understand, Logan. De t'ings I've done, de lives I've lived, dat ain' right t'be puttin' m'self into a romance with this emotional crap. 's not fair f'd'udder guy."
Logan had never heard much about the Cajun's past except what had been confessed in Antarctica; the thief had always kept to himself from the moment he'd set foot inside the mansion. That he was being allowed to see a part of Remy's past was almost a sacriligious moment for him.
"What happened to ya, Remy? What did they do to ya?" The younger man smiled sadly. That was the first time Logan had called him by his real name.
"It is no'ting you wan' hear, frere. La vie, she is not so nice to Remy, comprends? But de t'ings dat 'ave 'appened t'me, dey're m'own fault."
Logan couldn't understand why the Cajun was talking like this, and he told him so. How could he think whatever horrible things he had gone through had been his fault?
"Logan," Remy began, his mouth set in a straight line, "Dis is no'ting f'you t'be concerning y'self 'bout, frere. Dis is Remy's own past, he's got t'deal wid dis hisself. C'est rien, mon ami. I will be fine."
Logan wasn't so sure about that, but he knew he was treading on dangerous territory, so he didn't pursue it. Thinking back on what he had heard, he considered the facts. Remy had lived on the streets as a kid, thieved his way around New Orleans, and been a member of the thieves' guild. He had betrayed his friends by ratting out the Morlocks, causing them to be mercilessly killed, and had wanted to be left in Antarctica to die. The man before Logan had obviously been through a lot. Logan just wished he knew what to do for his somber friend.
Remy started him out of his thoughts, stretching loudly. "Well, we betta be goin' off t'practice, homme. T'others are gonna be gettin' angry wid us if we don' get dere a l'heure." Remy reached out and grabbed Logan's hand, pulling him up out of the chair with a grunt.
"You's heavy, frere. Whatcha eatin', eh?" Logan gently cuffed the back of his head. "A lot more than you have, kid." Remy grumbled good-naturedly as they walked down the corridor towards the Danger Room.