All of the characters in the story belong to MARVEL, not me! I am just borrowing them for a while. I will return turn them in good condition with the price tags still attached. So don't sue me because I'm not getting paid for anything I write.

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Remy stared into his coffee cup. He hadn't slept much the night before. A combination of confusion and self-evaluation had kept him up into the wee hours of the morning. But he was used to such nights and knew all he needed was some strong coffee and a dash of hot sauce to get himself focused.

He found himself thinking of Jubilee most of the night. Why had she run out of his room like she had seen a ghost? What had he done to make her pull away from him?

After many years away from her, he had realized that he had taken her for granted. She was probably one of the only people who never questioned him. And it didn't matter that the reason she hadn't asked him about his past was that they hadn't been that close. Many other team members were farther from being friends with him than she had and they asked just as many, if not more, questions than had Rogue or Storm, who were his closest companions.

Maybe he had laid the compliments to thick. Maybe she had thought he was trying to con her, or even worse, pick her up.

"Hey, Gumbo, snap out o'it!" Logan snapped his fingers in front of Remy's face.

Remy looked up at him and was about to make a smart remark when he saw Storm walk into the kitchen. There was that feeling of inadequacy again.

"Hello, Remy," she said, her voice cool and calm.

"Hello, Stormy," Remy replied.

Remy had expected her to make some comment about the use of the nickname that she hated so much, but she didn't say anything. She just walked across the kitchen and stopped in front of him.

"Welcome home, my friend." Storm wrapped her arms around him and Remy quickly moved to reciprocate. They hugged each other for what seemed like hours.

She broke away first, then punched him as hard as she could in the stomach. Remy almost dropped his coffee.

"Ow, Stormy, why'd-"

"This in no way means that all is forgiven, Remy, but I am glad you have returned to us." She smiled and patted his shoulder before walking over to Logan. She kissed his cheek and whispered something into his ear before leaving the kitchen all together.

Remy sighed and took another drink from his cup. "She hasn't changed much, eh, mon ami?"

Logan chuckled. "Nah, I guess she hasn't."

They laughed together as Logan made himself a cup of coffee and started making some bacon, sausage, and eggs.

"What are you doing here?"

Logan and Remy both turned around to see Bobby standing in the doorway of the kitchen, a fierce look in his eyes.

"Hey, kid, calm-"

"Logan, don't stick your nose in my business. This is between me and Gambit," Bobby said through his teeth, then walked over to Remy.

Logan put an arm between the two men. "Now, listen here, Drake, there ain't gonna be any fights here. So, ya might as well turn yer frozen behind around an' scram."

"I don't fucking get it!" Bobby yelled. "Why does everyone keep taking his side? You of all people, Logan, should-"

"Whoa, I don't think ya wanna tell me what I should an' should not be doin', Drake. I ain't takin' any sides, but ya sure as hell ain't convincin' me ta agree with ya by startin' any brawls." Logan moved closer so that he was almost a wall between Bobby and Remy.

"He's not staying here!" Bobby shouted.

"I don't think that's yer call, Drake. And I don't think that this is a fight yer gonna win, so why don't ya cut yer losses an' go cool off," Logan told him.

"Why don't you let the traitor speak for himself, old man."

For the first time, Bobby's words stung Remy. He pushed Logan out of the way and moved so close to Bobby that they were almost touching.

"What you so 'fraid of, Bobby? Dat I'm gonna take your girl? Well, I got news for you, I already had her and she made it pretty clear t'me dat she's done wit me. What? Do you t'ink dat she can't resist my charm or somet'ing?"

Bobby was at a loss for words all he could manage was an "um."

"You are a poor excuse for a husband if you don' have dat much faith in her. So worried 'bout me dat you forgot what your point was, eh, Bobby? I may be a traitor, but at leas' I did what I t'ought was best. You...you are only out for yourself and dat's pretty sad," Remy said with a hint of anger.

"Don't compare me to you. We aren't anything-"

"You're right, mon ami, we aren't anything alike, but dat's a good t'ing in my case. I'd be one sorry fool if I were like you." Remy pushed Bobby out of his path and walked towards the hall. He stopped just before leaving the room and turned around, a smirk on his face. "And I'm not goin' anywhere, Bobby, so don' bother tryin' t'make me leave."

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Remy walked down the hall, a new sense of confidence filling him up. He felt his old self start to replace the lonely and miserable character he had become seven years ago. He hadn't realized until just that minute how much he needed to be home.

"Shoulda n'ver left," he said to himself.

He walked past the Rec room, but stopped and backtracked. He looked into the room and saw a very thin redhead sitting on the couch in front of the television. It was Jean, but she didn't look like herself. Logan had said she wasn't the same, he couldn't have meant physically, could he?

"Jean?" Remy called out as he walked into the room.

She didn't answer him. She was staring at the TV. Remy moved behind the couch to see what she was watching and realized in an instant that it was the tape of Jean and Scott's wedding.

"Jean?" He repeated, but with no reply. He moved around the couch and sat down next to her.

She blinked a few times before slowly, almost too slowly, turning her head to look at him. She blinked again before her body shook and the blank look left her eyes. "Gambit?"

"Oui, Jean, it's me." He took her frail hand in his.

"When-? How-?"

"I came back yesterday, Jean. I came back t'stay," he told her.

Jean suddenly looked back at the television and saw Scott saying his wedding vows and she quickly turned away, looking at her hands. "Scott-Scott-Scott, he's g-gone, Remy," she sobbed.

He pulled her into the circle of his arms and held her while she cried. He had always felt like he had to protect her. Everyone thought she was so strong, but Remy knew that she had just as many weaknesses as anyone else on the team. As much as Scott loved her, he was always blinded and could never really see who she was and what she needed.

The problem was that most of the other men on the team were so infatuated with her that Remy could barely say hello to her without someone turning into a green-eyed monster. He watched her from afar though and that seemed to work...most of the time.

"I know, chere," was all he could say.

"Don't ever leave again, please, Remy," she said after her crying had subsided.

"I won', Jean, I'm not goin' anywhere, I promise." He smoothed down her long red hair as he gently rocked her.

"Sometimes I still hear him, Remy, in my head." Her voice was low and tormented.

Remy brushed a strand of hair away from her face and turned her to look up at him. "'Ave you talked t'Xavier?"

She pushed away from him and sat up. She ran a slender hand through her hair. "I'm sick of talking to him. I'm sick of his little justifications of my feelings and emotions. I'm sick of him telling me it will get better in time. It's been six years, Remy, and I'm not ever going to get over it!"

"What would you like t'do, chere? Do you really want t'feel dis way for de rest of your life?" Remy asked, trying to be as comforting as possible.

She stared at him for a while. The look in her eyes told him she was looking for a reason to get angry at him, to push him away. She threw her hands into the air.

"I don't know. Not anymore. I've tried, I've tried so hard to find some way to forget. I even-" she abruptly stopped what she was saying and began shaking her head.

"What, Jean? What?"

She glanced up at him, then back at her hands. "I asked the Professor to erase my memory."

Her pain struck him hard. No wonder she never went to Scott's grave, no wonder she never talked to anyone, no wonder she tried to push everyone away. Every little thing reminded her of Scott and she couldn't take it.

Remy knew he couldn't say anything. Not without making her feel worse. In this case, it was better to leave the history in the past.

He grabbed one of her hands and rubbed the back of it gently. "I 'ave an idea, Jean. Why don' we go out today?"

Jean looked up at him, a slight sparkle in her eyes. "Where would we go?"

"Anywhere, chere, anywhere."

Jean smiled for the first time since Remy had seen her. "Alright, let's go."