Remy heard the door click shut behind him and let the grin spread wide across his face. A strange kind of elation filled him, coursing down his arms and legs in tiny rivers, and pooling in his fingers and toes, making them tingle slightly. He couldn't quite remember the last time he had so looked forward to a fight. Especially with such ruthless determination and enthusiasm for the outcome. Remy LeBeau had been many things in his young life; an orphan, a street rat, a son, a thief, a lover, an enemy. Before the night was over, he would add one of two titles to his long list. He'd either be a corpse or a killer.
And Remy did not plan on dying.
Ten feet away, her eyes locked on the grinning Cajun, Mystique did not share his confidence or his enthusiasm. A cold sliver of fear was slowly sliding down her neck like a dribble of ice water; a feeling she had not felt in a very long time. She had worked beside a number of madmen, beings capable of destroying the world with barely a hint of an effort. Hell, she had practically made it her life's work. And yet, none of them frightened her as much as the young man before her. Rogue's parting words rang clearly in her mind. Keep the corpse. Looking into Gambit's strangely hypnotic eyes, Mystique could tell that he planned on doing just that.
Still, she hadn't come so far, struggled through so much, and planned so carefully these past years just to see it all crumble into dust on account of her soul stealing daughter and her Southern boy toy.
Summoning her will, she worked up a sneer for him, while her twisted mind raced.
"Left behind to do the dirty work?"
His lips twitched as if he were holding back a laugh.
"Non," he answered, flicking his staff up and slinging it casually across his shoulders. "Gambit volunteered for dis."
Unconsciously the two began to circle each other, like vultures fighting over the same scrap of carrion. Mystique kept her eyes on the steel bo he carried so easily, as well as on the three playing cards that were tucked in-between his fingers, waiting for the tell-tale red glow.
Gambit returned her stare, his muscles tense beneath his long jacket, even as he gave the outward appearance of being relaxed. His mind, however, was anything but, too busy trying to guess her next move. What shape would it take? What shape would she take?
"What can you possibly hope to gain from this? Killing me won't stop Apocalypse."
He raised an eyebrow. Though her voice was steady, he thought he detected a plea somewhere in there. That disappointed him. He hadn't expected her to start begging so early. "Rogue will stop Apocalypse. Killin' you . . ." His smile turned almost charming. "Dat's jus' for pleasure."
"And while you're 'indulging' yourself, who will be protecting Rogue?"
Her tone shifted slightly, becoming smoother and almost taunting. He paused for a moment, his smile faltering as he considered her words. It occurred to him that the blue skinned shape-shifter was right. Rogue was alone, on a collision course with what could be the world's most powerful mutant. All she had for backup was a blind woman. What kind of help could she give if there was something else lurking in the tunnels leading to Apocalypse?
Mystique saw his hesitation, the way his eyes slid away from hers to stare into empty space. She inched her way backwards, toward the door she had entered in from. His gaze shifted, focusing in again and pinning her.
"Rogue can take care o' herself," he said quietly. The smile was gone now. He watched her angle her body slightly, her left shoulder jutting forward, her right arm slipping out of view. In response, he leaned forward till he was resting on the balls of her feet.
"Can you?"
Her arm whipped forward and at the same time, she shoved back against the door, slamming the metal against the concrete wall. Gambit snapped his eyes shut a second before the tiny pellet hit the floor, cracking open with a blinding light. With one arm outstretched, he leapt after Mystique, his fingers catching the edge of the door before it could smash into his face. He let his momentum carry him through the doorway before he opened his eyes.
Just in time to see the black boot descending towards him.
Gambit threw his hand up and absorbed the blow with his forearm, feeling the pain radiate down his arm even as he swung out with his staff. It whooshed through the air, just barely missing Mystique's head as she ducked underneath it. With an easy grace, she flipped backwards, putting distance between herself and the Cajun, even as her eyes searched her surroundings for anything to use against him.
He gave the room a cursory glance as well, not willing to take his eyes off of his enemy for more than a few seconds. But there wasn't very much to take in. The room was larger than the others and had the feel of an underground military bunker with its high ceilings and damp, stained walls and floor. There was nothing in the room save for a few rusted metal shelves and several piles of long, thin tubes of steel. Mystique snatched one of them up, twirling it skillfully about her body.
"It doesn't have to go like this," she claimed, holding the make-shift staff diagonally in front of her. Gambit raised an eyebrow and subtly shifted his grip on his own bo, keeping it close to his side and pointed down at the floor. He blew a strand of hair out of his eyes and tilted his head slightly.
"Non?" he asked. "How else could it be?"
Mystique's yellow eyes flashed with a hint of uncertainity. But as quickly as it came, it was gone.
"We could be allies. Apocalypse will rule the earth. There is nothing strong enough to stand against him. Not Magneto. Not Charles Xavier. Not Rogue. Not even if all the mutants in the world stood against him. He will enslave them all."
Gambit eyed her balefully, his face carefully blank. "Dat would include you and me. Don't sound too temptin' to Gambit."
She laughed then and it was an unsettling sound in his ears. Close to a shriek and filled with a breathless desperation.
"I will stand on his right side." His eyes narrowed on her face, noting the lines of strain that appeared as she tried to convince him and herself. "And you. You could stand on his left. Whatever you want can be yours." Her voice changed, gaining pitch and a long, slow drawl. He watched as she shifted forms, her harsh features molding into softer, more familiar ones. "Anything you want," Rogue seemed to promise him, her green eyes boring holes in him. Gambit felt a small stirring of pity in his chest.
And ruthlessly squashed it.
"Sorry, but Gambit don't play so well wit' ot'ers," he replied. With a careless flick of his wrist, he charged his three cards and sent them flying. The white plastic rectangles glowed red as they cut through the air, humming lightly like miniature missiles locking in on their target. Mystique dodged to the right, cart wheeling out of the way and the cards exploded harmlessly against the wall behind her. But the message was crystal clear.
The time for talk was over.
She lunged forward, swinging the pipe towards his knees, hoping to catch him off guard and end the fight before it began. But Gambit had spent his entire life running loose on the streets of New Orleans, where one instant of distraction could mean the loss of a take. Or a beating. Or worse. He nimbly leapt over the pipe and snapped the end of his staff upwards. It whistled through the air and just barely grazed Mystique's cheek, drawing a thin stream of blood even as she threw her head back out of the way. She snarled as she felt the wetness sliding across her skin and swung out with her pipe again, this time aiming for his head. Gambit blocked it easily with his staff and punched out with his free hand. Faster than he had expected, her arm dropped to meet his. It snaked around his wrist and elbow, locking his arm. At the same time she stepped forward and drove her forehead into his face. Their heads met with a loud "crack."
Gambit stumbled backwards as light exploded behind his eyes but managed to stay on his feet. His vision wavered for a second and when it came into focus again, he saw Mystique kick out with a roundhouse. He ducked underneath the blow and, like a magician, had two more cards appearing in his hand. He charged them and tossed them down at her foot. Caught in mid-kick, there was no time for her to dodge.
The explosion sent her flying backwards. She landed on hard on her back and her fingers lost their grip on the pipe as her arm smashed down against the concrete. The steel weapon rolled away. Like a cat she flipped up onto all fours and reached for it, but Gambit's heavy boot came down on it with a "clink." Mystique stared up at him, her eyes flashing with hatred. He only smiled.
She lunged at him again, only this time Gambit found himself facing a sleek jaguar. It crashed into him, two hundred pounds of packed muscle, knocking him over. He tucked his chin to his chest to keep his head from slamming against the ground but could do nothing about the rest of his body. His shoulders skidded over the concrete, tearing holes in his jacket and shooting pain down his spine. There was no time to dwell on it though as Mystique snapped her teeth at him, blowing hot breath and saliva onto his face. Straining, he crossed his wrists and pressed them against her, struggling to keep her jaws from latching onto his throat. The rest of his body tried to wiggle free from the giant cat's weight, even as it squeezed the air from his lungs. Yellow eyes inched forward and razor sharp teeth chomped inches away from his head. His brain took a moment to register the unwelcome information that his entire head would likely fit inside her mouth.
Then his legs finally slipped into position. With a heaving grunt, he kicked up with his feet and, using her own momentum against her, pitched her over his head.
She twisted around in mid-air, managing to come down on all fours again. But even as she lifted her massive head to growl, four more playing cards streaked towards her. They struck her simultaneously in the head and chest and the explosion threw her across the room. She came down with a crash against the old rusted shelves, bending and breaking them. She felt sharp pain where the metal dug into her skin. Her form shifted back to humanoid and Mystique struggled to extricate herself from the steel wreckage, enraged to see blood smearing her arms and legs.
Through the cloud of smoke the explosion had created, she could see Gambit's shadow moving closer. She grabbed chunks of broken metal and hurled them at him.
Gambit felt one brush past the side of his head, grazing the skin. Another hit his shoulder and fell with a quiet thump. When he emerged from the smoke he faced a barrage of fists and feet. He dipped and dodged, his coat billowing about him as he threw his own hands up to block and strike. One of her kicks managed to slip through his guard and slam into his stomach. Bending slightly to accept the blow, he caught her foot before she could pull it back. His elbow connected with her knee with a sickening crack and she gave a strangled cry of pain. Stepping forward, Gambit swept her other leg out from under her, throwing her back to the ground. She struggled to get back to her feet, her hands reaching for her injured knee, but he lashed out with fist, catching her in the jaw. The blow spun her around onto her stomach.
Pain screaming through her, Mystique began to crawl, her fingers sliding across the ground, searching for a weapon, her mind viciously aware of the demon stalking behind her. A boot slammed down on her hand, snapping bones. A haze fell over her vision and she drew her broken fingers close to her, feeling her throat close with pain and tears she refused to shed. Suddenly there was weight between her shoulders, pushing her down onto the cold cement. Strong fingers dug into her hair, yanking her head back.
Gambit knelt on her back and stared into her eyes. He had watched her slither across the floor, broken and bleeding and his mind had replaced her form with Rogue's. Had she crawled away from the man she had killed? The man who had been like a father to her? The man who had shattered her? He imagined the pain she had felt and the tears she had wept as if they had been his own. All because of this woman, this monster he had trembling under his weight. The rage that swept through him was like nothing he had ever felt before or would again. It ripped out of him like a grizzly bear tearing through a steel cage. He slammed her head against the floor, ignoring the blood as it splattered over him. Then again. And again.
He drew her face back one last time, the blue skin drenched in crimson. But the yellow eyes still held life in them. Her lips, swollen and split, moved slightly. Though her voice slurred as it moved through broken teeth and a mangled jaw, he heard her clearly enough.
"You won't kill me," she whispered. The pain was unbearable. Her face felt like it was on fire. Still, she struggled to speak. "You can't. X-men don't kill."
For a fraction of a second, the fingers in her hair relaxed.
And then she heard him chuckle. A long, drawn out sound that was mirrored in his voice.
"Gambit ain't an X-man."
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Author's Note
Woohoo. Sorry about another long delay but this was a tough chapter to write. I wanted just enough action without getting really really gory. Ok, so smashing someone's face against concrete is pretty fricking gory but I did leave out all the messy stuff. Mostly. Makes me squeemish. I'm really hoping to get the last chapter out soon because I'll be going back to school in a couple weeks and I'd like to have the story done before then. I'm going to try my best.
Kool-Wolf: Thanks!
Nettlez: Hey, thanks! Glad you liked Tic, Toc. That one was a little less angsty than this one, but I'm glad you decided to read this one too! Sorry about the long stretch between updates. Grrrr. Harry Potter Day was a nightmare. I shan't speak more of it. It's too painful. But if ONE more person comes into my store and tries to ruin the ending for some little kid, I'll . . . . do something not nice.
ishandahalf: I think in the future, just to shake things up a bit, I'll have the evil bad guy appear in the middle of a corn field or something. It seems like they're always popping up either in the desert, in the tropics, or in the artic. I was actually getting a bit tense just writing it. Hope this was a painful enough death for ya! Or is there MORE death on the way for Mystique?...that made more sense in my head.
SickmindedSucker: I hope this chapter lived up to its ass-kicking hype. It's really hard to write an entire chapter of fighting. Especially just two people fighting when you REALLY want to just go ahead and kill one of the characters.
enchantedlight: Thanks a lot!
smiteme: Glad you found my story and glad you're enjoying it! Ah, the crack bunnies are spreading. Today my story, tomorrow the world.
Remy's Girl: sincerely hope you haven't died of curiousity. thanks for digging the story. Hope you like this chapter. Yeah. Rogue and Remy rock.
ragincajunlover: Glad you like the story! I too enjoy sarcasm. Except when he bites. The gay guy was totally random. I was like, "who the hell WOULDN'T hit on Gambit?"
Cat2fat900: crack squirrels? Somehow, that sounds dangerous. and also AWESOME. actually, I'll admit it. squirrels make me nervous. Is that weird? I can't figure out where it comes from…..anyway, glad you're enjoying the story!