(Twelve)
Remy left the galley, awkwardly carrying a loaded try of food in one hand, some bottles of beer in his other, it was time to feed the Clansmen. He made his way clumsily to the barracks door, using all of his skills to balance his load without dropping it. As he approached the door to the barracks, Gambit noticed Logan sitting in the last row of seats, far away from everybody and everything. He was smoking and staring off into space, his body eerily still. He had sat there as soon as he'd come up from below and not moved since. Gambit paused, trying not to spill anything. "You need anyt'ing, mon ami?" he asked carefully, sensing Logan's ill humor.
"I'm fine," Logan replied, his voice cold and even.
Remy kept going. He hadn't been on the team as long as some of the others, but he knew when to leave Logan alone having seen the man's temper at work before. Gambit hoped that Logan wasn't going to have one of his 'spells'. The timing couldn't be worse.
Every so often, Wolverine would sink into a dark, murderous melancholy. His time spent with the X-men had helped him considerably, but the spells still occurred. He would grow steadily quiet and not speak to anyone except to snap and growl at you for no apparent reason. Anything would set him off and he would yell and break things. People at the mansion had learned to avoid him when he was like this. Sometimes, if it was really bad, he'd carve up dead trees off in the woods, viciously shredding them down to nothing with his claws, not caring that he busted up his hands in the process, they would just heal anyway.
Wolverine would sometimes wake up yelling in the night with his bed sheets ripped to pieces. Like his clothes, Logan's furniture and bedding never had much of a chance to get old or worn out. His temperament and lifestyle just didn't allow for it. Later he'd go on a two or three day drinking binge and then disappear for a few days. He'd come back all smoothed out and no one questioned him about it. He was very reliable and had proved his worth as an X-man time and time again, enough that his mood swings were simply accepted and dealt with.
Back home, Nightcrawler had been working closely with Logan and his efforts had helped. They could really use that priestly X-man's help right about now, but that of course, was impossible. Wolverine hadn't had one of his bad turns in quite some time, so Remy figured Logan was due at any time. Most of the time, just keeping Logan busy held the spells at bay. With all this hanging around bored and vicious in-fighting, Gambit was justifiably concerned that Fallen's outburst had bothered Logan enough to send him off onto the dark path.
Gambit set the tray down in front of the barracks door. "Chow time, dogs," he said with a short laugh. He deactivated the light screen warily, his eyes on all the men and a pack of loose cards ready in his pocket. So far there had been no trouble at feeding time, but he wasn't about to take any chances. He slid the tray and bottles through and reactivated the screen.
Remy backed up and watched as Valentin and Bruce came to the door to take the tray and distribute the food. He'd brought them pre-packaged meals because they came in their own boxes and were easier to carry and hand out.
Joseph sat up on his bed, woozy and still a little out of it. He rubbed his eyes and belched with a groan, rubbing his stomach and grimacing. He'd swallowed a lot of blood from his nosebleeds and it was making him nauseous. He felt like shit and it showed. He wondered if he was going to have the strength to do what Valentin had asked of him.
Gambit noticed Joseph was looking a little out of sorts. "Sumptin wrong wit dat one, ey? 'E ain't lookin' so good."
"Perhaps your cooking doesn't agree with him," Valentin sneered.
"Well, dat's no worry. Fallen's fixin' de ship. Won' be long now."
Gambit walked away and let them eat, Joseph already forgotten. He was more concerned about Logan sitting off by himself like that. He had leaned his head back against the wall and looked as though he might be falling asleep. That was good. Maybe Logan was just tired and would feel better when he woke up.
Remy went back to the galley and resumed the poker game he had started with Maylee. She had been left all alone with everything going on and Gambit was trying to keep her company. She was getting quite good at the game now, she had already taken a good amount of the Clan credits he was using as a pot. She was a good kid and he felt a little sorry for her having gotten caught up in this mess.
Like Kimble, Remy felt very comfortable taking care of others. At an early age, he'd had the good fortune to be adopted by Jean Luc LeBeau. Jean Luc was a master thief and the head of a small New Orleans organized crime family called the Thieves' Guild. He taught Remy all the thieving skills he currently possessed, but also instilled in him a real sense of family. Even after the family feud that had driven him out, Remy was eventually taken back after his disappearance from Antarctica. He'd been missed and the Guild took care of its own.
Remy had grown up with the large Guild families and never missed the real parents he had never known. He loved children and being around large groups of people, especially parties with dancing and lots of pretty girls around. He was off and on with Rogue, their tempestuous relationship wasn't always stable. They would break up for short periods of time only to get back together again. He loved her fiercely and was loyal to her when they were together. He didn't stray, but that didn't mean he would turn down a pretty girl's offer to dance. When they were off, well, Remy was known to be a little loose and free with the women, playful and free, but never letting anyone get too close. Rogue had always taken him back and he wasn't going to start anything he wasn't going to finish. His heart belonged to her.
Remy never failed to jump in when he was needed to take care of people, especially children and old folks, those too helpless to handle the situations they found themselves in. They brought out the latent hero in him, the good side he and the Professor had fought so hard to preserve. While Logan was a protector, Gambit was a nurturer. He was sitting here now with Maylee, keeping her company and flirting with her a little, just enough to make her laugh and feel comfortable. He still had one eye on the galley door, keeping watch on the barracks, but still enjoying the card game. With all the instability on this ship, Gambit was happy just to have something to do.
He groaned in mock dismay as Maylee won the next hand as well. She grinned broadly and swept her winnings into her already huge pile. Remy hoped Fallen would get things back up and running soon. It just wouldn't do to have Maylee continuously winning his money like this. He had a reputation to protect.
Maylee grinned. "I win again!"
"All right, all right," Remy said, grinning with her infectious happiness. "Maybe we try a new game, eh?" He shuffled the cards and explained the next game, losing time in play. In a situation like this, time was slippery and had a way of getting way from him. Not that he minded, at least somebody was having fun.