(Twelve)
Remy took off through the gloomy tunnels of Clan Station Nine. It occurred to him that some of his discomfort was coming from the fact that these hallways looked an awful lot like the tunnels used by the Morlocks. He ran faster and faster as he was overcome by painful horrible memories.
The Morlocks were a group of mutants that had gone to live in the disused subway tunnels under Manhattan. They took their name from H G Wells' Rulers of the Netherworld. These mutants were the last dregs of mutant kind, deformed and ugly and sometimes too dangerous to live out on the streets without inadvertently hurting people. They were so horrible looking they could never live out in the open without being hunted down and killed by the less forgiving bands of human mutant hunters. The Morlocks hid down in the tunnels, banding together for safety. They lived off of whatever they could scrounge and tried to get by as best they could.
An evil mutant scientist named Sinister had learned of their existence and as a geneticist, found them to be a blight on the face of mutant kind. They simply had to go. To this purpose, he enlisted the aid of a popular thief for hire, one Remy LeBeau.
Remy's life had never been easy. He was left at the doorstep of Saint Anne's orphanage only a couple of days after he was born. He had stayed at that orphanage until he was eight, living in poverty half in half out of the streets. There were gangs of thugs all about and they were hardly a good influence. He learned to steal and to lie with the best of them At the tender age of eight, he had the brass to try and pick the pocket of Jean Luc LeBeau, head of a local crime family called the Thieves Guild. Jean Luc was amused by the boy with the fiery red eyes and a few weeks later adopted him.
For eight wonderful years, Remy knew bliss. He was well cared for, surrounded in the rich southern heritage of a large and loving family. He suddenly had more cousins than he could count and they all for the most part accepted him. Jean Luc trained him in the fine art of thievery, upgrading what had already been a blossoming career, and found in Remy a natural talent. He showered Remy with love and the boy knew it and felt it. Sadly, it all ended two days after his sixteenth birthday.
The Thieves Guild wasn't always peaceful and a, internal feud broke out. Poor Remy was caught in the middle of it and through no fault of his own, was exiled. He was told his leaving was the only way to ensure peace. He loved Jean Luc dearly and did as he was told.
Once back on the streets, he was alone and all of his old pains came back to haunt him. He wasn't good enough. He was shunned as a mutant and it chilled him down to his very soul. He was now living full time with pimps and whores, drug dealers and addicts and it drained the life and soul right out of him. To survive, he moved from one job to the next, not caring who he was robbing so long as there was a challenge and some kind of monetary payoff in the end. It was around this time that he and Sinister crossed paths for the first time.
Their relationship started out small. He would acquire things for a price and Sinister always paid handsomely in cash. Remy was always suspicious of the strange doctor, but the work was easy and the pay good, so what the hell? They'd been on good terms for while before that final terrible day and so Remy didn't turn down the guy's money when the man came to him with a list.
"Gather these men for me."
Remy took one look at the list and knew something ugly was going to go down for somebody. He recognized Sabretooth's name immediately, having run into that monster more than once already.
"Sure t'ing, boss," Remy had replied, taking the man's money and doing as he was asked.
When Remy showed up with the men, he was supposed to be done. He was just going to walk away and think on this no more. Sinister had other ideas. He asked Remy to take them down to the tunnels and get them past the Morlock defenses. Remy refused. Sinister countered with an offer Remy couldn't turn down. He had something Remy wanted and needed more than anything. Something that was more valuable than money or any riches he could have offered. Something only he could provide.
Remy swallowed his pride, shut down his emotions, and tried not to think of what he was doing when he found himself agreeing to do as Sinister had least he'd been smart enough to ask for payment first. Sinister was more than happy to pay what Remy had asked for -- after all, what Remy wanted would cost Sinister nothing.
Later, as Gambit led the men down in the tunnels, these seasoned killers and mercenaries, his heart filled with dread. The men were joking and laughing, calling themselves the Marauders just for the kick of it. Remy tuned them out and tried to convince himself that this was just another job, just another working day. No way was this something legal, but that had never stopped him before. He was just being paranoid. How bad could it be?
Remy was shocked to discover just how bad, bad could be. It never came close to his feeblest imaginings. He used all of his thieving skills to get past the Morlock defenses and opened the main door. The men he'd so thoughtlessly brought down here slid past him and the slaughter of the Morlocks began. Gambit hadn't known the true purpose of these guys, Sinister had mumbled something about collecting blood samples. The tough men comprising the Marauders were necessary because the Morlocks, though ugly, would put up a vigorous fight.
Gambit stood there in numb horror, bathed in blood both real and imagined, seeing that he'd been totally duped. There were no blood samples being collected today, at least, not in the traditional way. The Morlocks were not strong, most of them were weak betas, cosmetic mutants only, and they fell like wheat to the scythe.
Remy stood there, agape, unable to accept what he'd just allowed to happen. The evil killer Sabertooth was among the men he'd brought and he next turned on the poor stricken thief, slashing his chest and belly open and leaving him to die. Remy managed to gather himself and flee, grabbing a small child as he went. He made it to a hospital, badly wounded and barely alive, wishing he'd died.
When he woke up days later, the child he'd rescued was gone and he was lying in a hospital bed. He had been nearly eviscerated and it had taken over fifty stitches to close his horrible wounds. The only one who'd known he done anything wrong was himself so he buried it deep inside of him. He swallowed it down with most of his emotions in self defense and became even more heartless and cold than he had been before. When he recovered and went back to work, he found himself taking even more risky jobs, losing himself in reckless abandon, not caring if he lived to see another day.
He'd joined the X-men for kicks, loving the adventure of it. Falling in love with Rogue changed all that. For the first time, he began to feel like he might actually be worth something. It also made him feel good inside when he saw all the good things he was accomplishing as an X-man. He was helping people and making a difference in the world that could be seen and felt. It also opened up his heart so those feelings he had buried so deeply and he was tortured by the horrible thing he'd done. He was developing a conscience.
He vowed to make up for what he'd done by working as hard as he could with the X-men. His only fear was that Rogue and the X-men would find out what he'd done. He didn't know what they would do to him and he wasn't eager to find out. He knew one thing for sure, Rogue would never forgive him and would hate him forever. She'd seen what went down in the tunnels firsthand when the team at that time had gone down and drove the Marauders off. The horror of the slaughter had never left her.
When Gambit had joined the X-men, he said nothing of his past, hoping only to hide it. It was a useless attempt in a house full of such powerful and intuitive mutants. The fact that he was in love with a girl who had the unique talent of absorbing a person's memories with a single touch undid him. One kiss. One kiss and it was all over. She knew he was hiding something, but didn't know what. Only that it was very bad, so horrible that Remy had smashed it so far down in his own mind that she hadn't been able to see it clearly herself. She hounded him for weeks, trying to get him to confess, but he resisted her.
He employed evasive tactics to protect himself from Rogue's probing, but those didn't last. When it finally all came out during that disastrous mission in the Antarctic, Rogue had left him there to die, condemning him on her own just as he'd feared she would. How he'd prayed for death then, had even attempted to accomplish that himself, but it seemed like fate had other plans for him. He was rescued days later and he scraped up a living back on the streets again, not really alive.
He didn't feel a spark of anything resembling true living until he'd caught a quick glimpse of Rogue while in New York City. It sent a thrill right through him and he knew then his heart had been stolen long ago, before he'd even left. He sucked down his pride and came crawling back to the Professor, spouting apologies and groveling for the first time in his life. He was stunned when it actually worked. He did manage to earn his way back on the team, but he paid for it, oh yes. He was always paying for it with his constantly having to apologize and getting smashed over his head time after time with his guilt. He would never be free of it.
Back in the smoky caves of Clan Station Nine, Remy stopped running when he found a small unused boarding room. He hid himself in the far corner, scrunching up as small as he could. He opened a bottle of Clan whiskey he'd "liberated" on his way here and drank down two large gulps of it, wishing only to get as drunk as possible and pass out. He took the whiskey down and buried his face in his arms, unable to stop the tears of humiliation and shame that came unbidden, now that he was alone and could let his guard down. He cried and cried until he grew tired and fell asleep.