(Five)
Gambit stepped off the plane, a little dizzy from jet lag. He hated flying but it was a necessary evil, New Orleans was much too far away for him to drive. Speaking of which, he had left so abruptly he hadn't made arrangements for a rental car. He was about to head towards the Hertz booth when he noticed a familiar blonde young man holding up a sign with his name on it. He was wearing a black suit and tie, completely miserable in it.
Gambit grinned and snuck around the guy's back, using that natural stealth he had been blessed with. He reached his hands out to cover the man's eyes in a tease when a loud squeal broke out behind him. "Oh, my Lawd! It's Remy! Remy LeBeau!"
Both men turned, the thief and his prey. The blonde grinned but poor Remy was attacked. He was pounced on by a curvaceous redhead wearing the tiniest of sweaters. She had vaulted off the ground and into his arms, risking life and limb to tackle him in her stiletto high heels. He was squeezed without mercy and drowned in kisses. "Oh, Remy! Where have you been? It's been ages!"
"Uh, oui, chere. It's great seein' you again..." Remy stammered lamely, his brain quickly sorting through its huge Rolodex in a vain attempt to identify the woman clinging to him. He held his left arm aloft, protecting it. He'd had Henry remove the cast that morning even though it was too soon. He didn't know how long he would be gone and didn't want it on any longer than he had to. Besides, it made him itch like crazy. He had a plastic splint on it now, given to him only after promises to be careful.
"Oh, you silly! You don't remember me do you?" she said with a pout.
"Uh, sure. Gambit never fo'get a face, certainly not one as pretty as yours." Her lovely breasts were crushed against him and he was drowned in her perfume. Obsession or some such... Oh yeah, he remembered now. "Sherry. It's been a long time."
"It's Cheryl, you big lug, but that's okay. You can make it up to me."
Gambit wasn't given an opportunity to respond. She pressed her lips against him in a bruising, passionate kiss. His whole body shuddered from it, desiring this, desiring her. His hands found her hair and he was necking with her, making out in the middle of this busy airport with a woman he had picked up once in a seedy Bourbon Street bar a lifetime ago. He expected the fear to come crashing in on him but felt only an intense need. His body was demanding a release from its tensions and frustrations and it was wearing down his fear. Maybe it was just as well he had come back here — heck, Mardi Gras wasn't all that far away. No one would care if he stayed away a month or more, he thought selfishly. Logan would call him if Kimble showed up, the man was as good as his word.
A heavy hand gripped his shoulder. "Dat's enough, Lover Boy. It's bad enough I 'ad to watch you stealin' every girl out from under me when we was kids, now I gotta watch you suck face in dis busy airpo't? Fo'get it, homme. De only one takin' you 'ome is me!"
Remy laughed and cocked his head at the blonde young man in the monkey suit. "What's dat, Etienne? Jealous?"
Etienne separated the couple and moved in between them. He regarded the girl with eyes as mischievous as the mutant beside him. "Contrary to what you may 'ave 'eard, Mademoiselle. Dis LeBeau ain't de bes' LeBeau in town. Why 'ave a redhead when you can 'ave a blonde, hien?"
She humphed and tossed her head, walking away. "Call me," she tossed over her shoulder at Remy, winking. She had slipped her phone number into his pocket.
"I see you still got yo' way wit de girls, cousin," Remy teased, not the least bit upset to see Cheryl walk away. She was pretty, yes, but he'd had better. It wouldn't take him long to find a suitable replacement, not here in this town.
Etienne ran a hand through his hair with a proud smile, preening. "I'll 'ave you know de femmes be crawlin' all over dis piece of prime real estate, homme. You gonna 'ave to peel dem offa me, de moment we be 'ittin' de streets."
Remy laughed. "Dat's only cause Gambit been gone so long. Dey fo'got what dey missin'."
They moved on to gather Remy's luggage. He had packed lightly, knowing he could just pick up whatever he needed here. Etienne had come in the Thieves Guild's big limo, notified through the Guild's vast network that Remy had booked this flight. The big car was a waste of time, Remy just sat up front and they cruised the streets at high speed, the expensive vehicle moving with a luxurious, liquid grace. Remy rolled down the window and closed his eyes, taking in the smells of this magical place. This was New Orleans, this was home.
It had been two years since he had been here, but it felt as though a lifetime had passed. He had lived here almost all of his life. He had been abandoned at birth on the doorstep of Saint Anne's, the only orphanage certain to accept a mutant child. Father Duncan's kindness was well known and Remy hadn't been turned away. He had no name, so Father Duncan called him Remy Cadeau, cadeau meaning "gift". As much trouble as Remy got into during his time there, the Father loved him dearly and considered him to be a gift from God. They learned much from each other and the Father was grateful to have him.
It came as no real surprise when Jean Luc LeBeau showed up at the doorstep as unexpectedly as Remy had eight years earlier. The Thieves Guild was generous and Jean Luc had taken in several of the orphans into the Guild itself, taking the older ones that no one would adopt...but also the ones with special abilities certain to benefit the Guild.
Jean Luc was a tall man, in his late forties at this time. His eyes sparkled with mischief and his salt and pepper hair was tied back in a long braid down his back. He had a neatly trimmed goatee, making him look rather dashing. He had never married and his womanizing was well known - he had several bastard children living with him at his huge Mansion and he adored them all - he was simply too restless to settle down with a single woman. He was dressed in fine clothes and his long stretch limo was parked out front. At his side was one squirming Remy Cadeau, his long auburn hair twisted in the man's fist. It seemed this young scrap had the audacity to try and pick Jean Luc's pocket.
The Father was mortified, Jean Luc was a well respected man and had given a lot of money in support of the orphanage. He began to sputter excuses, but was stopped by a raised hand. "I've come not for excuses, good Father. Non, dis young man comes 'ome wit me."
Father Duncan was surprised. Jean Luc had never adopted one so young before. Remy was only eight. "But, sir. This one is...something of a handful."
"Bien sur. Dat's precisely why I've come to take 'im."
The arrangements were made quickly and Remy found himself in one of the largest houses he had ever seen. It was a true Mansion located on twenty private acres just outside of town. Like Xavier, the Thieves Guild owned almost all the properties in this section of town and was run like a huge family. Jean Luc hadn't married, but he did have plenty of help running the house. In charge of the children was Tante Mattie, a magnificent colored woman who was a also a voodoo priestess and a healer. She ruled the kids with an iron hand so much like Father Duncan that Remy felt right at home. Of course he cheerfully tormented her with his antics just as badly as he had the Father and the two grew quite close. She became his mother and he often turned to her for advice and comfort when he was sick or down in spirits.
The Guild was an organized crime family, but being thieves, they were not known for their violence. They were not destructive or murderous by habit. They were the best at what they did, nothing more. Not that they couldn't handle themselves in a scrap mind you, Remy was embraced by the Guild early and trained in all of its arts, including self defense.
Remy took on quickly and showed promise very early. Jean Luc found in him something very special and he grew to love the boy. He became Jean Luc's son in every sense, he was officially adopted as part of the Guild, but became a legal LeBeau as well. That was an honor that he alone had received out of all the adoptees, the other kids were taken in by Jean Luc's officers and not given the name LeBeau.
Not everyone was so happy. Of Jean Luc's bastard children, two of them were sons, Henri and Paul. Both of them had their eyes on ascension to top dog of the Guild, figuring their being blood assured that spot to them. As the boys all grew older, Remy found more and more favor with Jean Luc and the two began to fear that neither of them would be chosen.
Remy had no desire to head the Guild, he was just looking for the next big score and living it up. He had no idea he was about to be embroiled in a bitter battle between these two sons. He was a teenager who was having the most wonderful and educational affair with a much older woman, the wife of one of Jean Luc's lesser henchmen. He was young, he was handsome in spite of his red on black eyes and he knew it. He had discovered women early on and his ambitions didn't go beyond which new lesson this woman was going to teach him. He had already been practicing some of his newer techniques on the local girls, well on his way to building a reputation as wild as his adoptive father. Remy was a fly by night kind of guy, he always would be. It was a byproduct of being an orphan, he had learned early on that the world could change in the blink of an eye. Who was going to run the Thieves Guild after Jean Luc was the furthest thing from his mind.
The coming battle came to a head on Remy's sixteenth birthday. Jean Luc had a big party and had gotten a little drunk. He slurred to one of his lieutenants that he was going to announce Remy as his successor at the boy's next birthday, when he was to come of age. It was overheard by Henri who immediately went into action.
He precipitated a fight between Remy and Paul, over a girl of course. The boys were all drunk from the party, fawning over all the girls, and Paul had a wicked temper. Fists went flying and they had quite the brawl, thrashing and flying about. All the boys could fight and there was nothing like a spectacular LeBeau brawl. The two boys were all twisted around each other, pummeling each other without mercy, and crashed into the crowd. Unseen by all, was the dagger that flashed brightly once and found purchase deep in the side of Paul. Paul cried out sharply, but no one took it that seriously until he lay still and Remy stood up, drenched in blood. The dagger was now on the ground, so hopelessly covered in blood no one would ever know whose hand had ever held it.
Remy screamed in terror and gripped his brother's body to his own. Sure they bickered and brawled, but Remy never truly hated anyone, not enough to kill. He loved all the boys of the Guild, they were family, they were his brothers and cousins. They were all he had. His eyes flooding with tears, Remy looked into Paul's eyes as he died. There was only forgiveness there, Paul knew who it had been that killed him but took that secret to the grave. He died without ever speaking a word.
Of course there was a great big scandal. It was all Jean Luc could do to keep Remy out of jail. Remy swore his innocence and Jean Luc believed him, but could no longer allow Remy to inherit the Guild. No, Paul had a small following of his own men, lieutenants of his own clamoring for revenge against the fiery eyed mutant. The Guild was in trouble, on the verge of war. The only solution was for Remy to leave.
At the tender age of sixteen, Remy was back on the streets. Jean Luc bought him passage to New York where he had some distant family living. The plan was for Remy to stay with them, but things didn't work out so well. Remy wasn't well received because he was a mutant. He slipped out after only a few days and was back on his own. He had been on the streets almost a couple of years when the whole Morlock thing went down. Jean Luc had heard about it, but never learned of Remy's involvement, it was well out of the range of Thieves Guild sphere of operations.
Remy had tried to keep in touch with Jean Luc, but wasn't good at writing letters or picking up the phone. As he got deeper into trouble after the Morlock Massacre, he stopped communicating altogether. Even after he joined the X-men, he hadn't maintained his ties. No, the next time Jean Luc saw his wayward son was when Remy showed up on his upstairs balcony, wretched and drenched in the downpour that had been raging outside.
It was a summer night and Jean Luc had the slider open. He barely turned when he heard the door open and was shocked to see Remy standing there, thin and gaunt after nearly freezing to death in the Antarctic. Remy had been rescued by some Russian salvagers interested in the base the bad guy had left behind. The only thing of real value they found was a heartbroken red eyed thief. It had taken a lot of hitchhiking and sweet talking, but Remy managed to work his way back home. It had taken him three weeks to get here, he had hardly slept from the travel and had no money for food. His wits and skill as a thief had kept him alive, but little more.
"Remy? It dat you, mon fils?" Jean Luc said, horrified at the sight of this gaunt young man in his room. Gambit had made very little noise as he'd entered.
"Oui, father." Gambit took one step and crashed to the floor, exhausted.
He was placed in bed and tended to by Tante Mattie. His presence was kept a secret, Jean Luc didn't want the peace to be broken by Remy's breach of exile. It didn't last, the rest of the family learned of his return. Amazingly, no one really cared once they were satisfied that Remy hadn't come back to stake a claim on the leadership of the Guild. He was just a lost son who needed his father's comfort. He was left in peace.
Remy stayed a few days, broken and weeping, his heart shattered. He told his father everything, daring Jean Luc to abandon him as the X-men had done. It didn't happen, Jean Luc simply loved the boy too much. There was too much of himself in Remy's eyes. Jean Luc had made his share of mistakes and seen his own horrors, he was in no position to condemn anyone.
Jean Luc tended his son and was the one who encouraged him to return to New York, to make peace with Rogue if that's what he really wanted. Remy had taken his advice, but didn't return to New York right away. He spent a lot of time running around New Orleans, trying to fill the void with other women and drugs, just to see if it really was Rogue he was missing. It was and he eventually returned to New York and rejoined the X-men, going back to his old life forever changed, but better than he had been on his own.
(break)
The limo cruised up to the LeBeau Mansion and Remy opened his eyes, taking it all in. It had been so long since he had been here, he had almost forgotten what it looked like.
The house was huge, palatial and much larger than Xavier's. The LeBeaus were all about pleasure and comfort in all its forms. The Mansion was open to the fresh air, its large windows revealing expensive yet comfortable furniture within. Escaping also was the lovely aroma of Tante Mattie's cooking, the most pleasant of lures. The landscaping was grand, flowers of all kinds and smells were bright and fragrant all about, inviting happiness and fun. Remy couldn't stop the smile of the joy that spread across his lips. How he loved this place. He was a fool to ever have left it for a woman who would never love him.
He eased out of the car and reached for his bag. He hardly had it on his shoulder when he was once more greeted with feminine laughter. "Uncle Remy! Uncle Remy is here!"
This time, the thief was assaulted by a trio of girls. It was all right, these females were much younger and a treasure to hold. He laughed as he was jumped on and squeezed by a gaggle of five year olds, Henri's triplets.
Remy may have had some tension with his would be sibling, his involvement in Paul's murder was never exactly proven, but that animosity would never be passed on to these sweet creatures who clung to him now. He bent down to receive them, loving their childish smells, they had the scents of the outdoors and the food from the house clinging to their fine clothes and shining blonde hair. It gave him an idea. He reached into his pockets and distributed chocolate, his new habit of carrying the stuff for Siskans serving an unexpected purpose here as well. The children were grateful, squeezing him even harder. Their vibrations poured into him and their shines clicked on like tiny joyful lights, making him feel warm and happy. If it hadn't felt so good to feel their love, he might have been unnerved by this extrasensory perception startling him. Instead, it just made him intensely happy, their joy at seeing him caressing his brain pleasantly. He didn't want to let them go.
"Easy now, petites," Etienne complained merrily, gently moving them back. "Dis boy too old fo' alla dat. Go on in de 'ouse. Tell Tante her boy come 'ome, s'il vous plait."
They ran off, still laughing, and Remy couldn't help but pause to envy their happiness. He was once more struck with an intense desire. He wanted those kids for himself. He wanted a wife, a family. He wanted a mountain of kids, of small happy people who loved him unconditionally because he had raised them. He would never hurt them or lie to them or keep secrets, not him. They would love him forever because he would love them back with all of his heart. These thoughts came across his face as a terrible sadness and longing. He was forced to smile when he saw Etienne looking at him strangely.
"You okay, homme?" his cousin asked gently. They had been close growing up, as close as brothers, and Etienne would never be able to hide his love.
"Oui. Jus' missed dis place sumptin' awful."
They moved on up into the house. Remy set his bag down on the floor and made his way to the kitchen, letting his nose guide him though he knew the way by heart. He could already hear Tante Mattie's happy complaints. "What you girls all doin' in 'ere, hien? How yo' Tante gonna cook anyt'ing wit you in de way?"
Remy eased up to the doorway and leaned in it as if it had only been yesterday since he had last been in it, not two long and painful years. Tante Mattie was a large, impressive woman. She wasn't trim, her fine Cajun cooking had put an end to that, but she moved about with a practiced grace, working easily around the children despite her complaints. She wore a large pink dress and had a folded colorful scarf over her head, covering her long braided hair and keeping it out of the way. She tried to pretend she hadn't noticed her wayward son standing in the doorway, but was unable to hide the smile that teased the corner of her mouth.
"You put yo' bags away an' wash yo' 'ands b'fore we eat. Jus' cause you ain't been home, don' mean de rules be changed."
Remy couldn't contain his smile or the love that swelled up inside of him at the sound of her voice. "Oui, Tante. Bonjour."
"Umm hmm. Now, you go on up an' see yo' father. He been waitin' all day."
"Oui, Tante," he replied, but went to her instead, pulling her into his arms. She laughed and squeezed him back, flooding him with her powerful vibrations of love and happiness to see him. His love starved soul drank them up, needing them desperately.
"You a skinny skinny, boy."
"Been a 'ard year, Tante."
"Tante's gonna fix you up right."
Gambit sniffed, smelling all the good things she had cooking. "Oui, Tante."
"Go on now," she repeated gently, easing herself away. "Go see yo' father."
He nodded, his eyes a little wet, and left her, heading for the large staircase leading up to the bedrooms. He never saw her smile falter a bit as he left, nor did he hear the soft prayer that escaped her lips.
(break)
Remy climbed the stairs, his heart hammering in his chest. He was nervous and happy, but aloof. There was an air of sadness here, something he would have felt even before Kimble had touched him. He walked into Jean Luc's study, not sure what to expect. He stopped, stunned.
Jean Luc was seated in a wheelchair, a blanket wrapped around him. He was in front of a nice blazing fire, an odd place to be considering it hadn't been all that chilly outside. This place was never as cold as New York, something Remy'd had to adjust to when he moved up North. He used to get many stares from folks as he was almost always in one trench coat or another, finding New England far too cold for his tastes.
Jean Luc was warm and comfortable, almost asleep with his chin down on his chest. His hair was still long and braided in a long plait down his back, only now it was almost completely white and thinner than before. He was thin and gaunt, a sick man. A very sick man.
Shoulda called 'ome a long time ago, Remy chided himself. Mon dieu, dis man ain't gonna last another year!
Remy leaned in the doorway, feeling silent tears stinging his eyes. He had so many happy memories of this man and they came on him now with a vengeance. Jean Luc riding him high on his shoulders, laughing gaily when he brought Remy to his first Mardi Gras, not caring the boy was still a child. Jean Luc teaching him to pick locks, how to cut glass. The admonitions and rules were there, so much like Kimble's — Don't kill, never kill. The score's the thing, but only a poor thief has to kill himself out of a bad situation. This was the source of his own acrobatic abilities and skill in fighting. Gambit had never directly killed anyone... not until Cerise. It pained him still to think of it.
Jean Luc had taken him down to some of the clubs he frequented, even though it was late at night. Sometimes there would be strippers there and Remy would look up at them in wonder, his red eyes gleaming. Gambit had learned an appreciation for women early. He found them beautiful and always respected them, something passed on as he watched the gentle hand of his father. Jean Luc may have made his way through scores of women, but he never spoke badly to them or hit them. They were never abused and Remy was certain his old man loved each and every one of them, just as he did his own conquests. Always the respect was there, it was never abuse and the girls always knew the score. He went out of his way not to put up false pretenses, he didn't want to hurt anyone.
Jean Luc had sent him out on his first trial run as a Guild thief. Gambit had been taken to a huge secluded Mansion and told to go in and bring something back, just to prove he had been inside. He went out and was met with defeat on almost every point of entry he had tried, mystified at the house's strange defenses. Invisible walls seemed to meet him, blocking him from entering. He finally broke with tradition and smashed a window, reaching inside to snag a small brass statue there. He was certain he had failed his test - he had never actually gotten inside - but so wanted to make his father happy. He was met out on the grass by large dogs and had to flee through the house's large yard. He heard a strange howling, curses in a language he didn't understand, and felt invisible daggers whiz by his head, lucky not to be struck himself. He managed to escape by climbing the huge back wall with his uncanny, cat like grace, almost dropping his prize. He made it and walked back to the LeBeau Mansion, his head hung low.
He was shocked when Jean Luc was not only pleased he had made it back in one piece, the man was thrilled and crowing he had brought back anything at all. The house was supposedly haunted by strange spirits, and none of the Guild boys sent there for testing had ever brought anything back. The first test was expected to be a failure. It was a test of courage, of will. Remy's ingenuity and cleverness had made Jean Luc's heart swell with joy. The statue had been placed on the huge mantle downstairs and remained there even now. Remy had never been happier.
Gambit wiped his face, composing himself, and entered the room. He took a seat on the sofa opposite Jean Luc and gently patted the old man's knee. Jean Luc startled a little, bobbing his head, but then smiled when he saw who was sitting there.
"Bonjour, mon fils," he rasped, his voice dry and scratchy.
Remy saw a glass of water beside him on a small coffee table. He handed it to his father so he could sip it. "Bonjour, father. You look well."
Jean Luc snorted at him and snickered. "You a worse liar dan dat fool cousin of yours, Etienne. I look like shit an' I know it."
"No one tell me you was sick."
"You never call, cher," Jean Luc chided not unkindly. "I'm glad you're here. You gonna stay a while?"
"Oui. Gambit stays 'til de Xs call me fo' sumptin'."
Jean Luc cocked his head at him, his sharp eyes catching the splint on Remy's wrist and the scar on his forehead. That one was new and not all that old. More than that was the sense of age that seemed to weigh heavily on his son. "You got a strange sadness on you, fils. Is it dat girl again?"
Gambit snickered softly, Jean Luc had never quite approved of Rogue. Remy had brought her down here once before the Antarctica disaster and although Jean Luc said nothing, she had made him wary. It didn't escape Remy's notice. "Non. It a little bit of everyt'ing. Been too long away."
Jean Luc reached out and tipped Remy's chin to better catch his eyes. "How long has it been since you felt you been loved?"
Remy startled a little at the strange question. "What?"
"You always 'ave dis look about you, hien? You ain't never been able to 'ide nuthin', specially from me. You always seekin', never findin'. Gonna have to get dat cousin of yours to take you out. You need a woman, a real one you can touch."
Remy couldn't help but smile. Jean Luc's solution to any problem seemed to involve women. This wasn't the first time those words had come at him when he was in pain. "P'etetre. P'etetre, dat all dis po' boy need." He swallowed and changed the subject. "How long you been sick?"
"Been sick since before you left, just didn't say much about it. Didn't want to worry nobody. Got de cancer 'bout five year ago, been dealin' wit it fo' a while now. Just runnin' out of gas is all."
"Father..." Remy whispered and a traitorous tear fell.
Jean Luc smiled and wiped it away. "You are my son, my only son. You de only one to sit 'ere in front of me and show dis love. Not even 'Enri, an' 'e gonna lead dis Guild when I'm gone. I wish I'd known yo' mother, she must 'ave been one fine fille to bring such a good son out into de worl'."
Gambit sobbed and fell to his knees, laying his head in this man's lap just as he had done to the Professor almost two years ago. It was cry for help. Love me, keep me, don't leave me all alone.
Jean Luc lay his hands on Remy's head. "Don't cry fo' me. I've lived a good life. I sit 'ere so 'appy, t'inkin' back on all de good people I've known. De Lord blessed me, though I'm too much de scoundrel to deserve it."
"You de bes' man Gambit's ever known," Remy mumbled through his tears.
"You my best son. Mebbe it just as well you didn't want de Guild, it a 'ard t'ing to lead so many people, you got too much to do. You too young. Live yo' life well, fils. Don't 'ave no regrets."
Remy sniffed hard and wiped at his face. "Too late fo' dat."
"Non. Every man got to 'ave 'is 'eart broke, it make you really see what you 'ave around you. It teach us humility, humanity. Dese impo'tant t'ings, fils. You know dis more dan most, you a stronger man dan 'Enri. De Guild will look after itself, but mebbe you could speak to your Professor X 'bout some of de kids 'ere, de special ones."
Remy sat back on his heels, calming down. "Oui, father. What you need?"
"Some of dem could use some trainin', some of dem good lessons de Professor teach. Tante got 'er 'ands full, gonna be worse when I'm gone."
Remy shuddered, he couldn't help it. "Oui, father. Chuck'll take 'em in, no problem."
Jean Luc's hand found his head again. "Don't you worry, fils. I'm not going anywhere just yet. Stop yo' cryin', just come up 'ere and give yo' old man a hug, he need it so."
Gambit was quick to obey. "Je t'aime," he said, reduced to that small boy this man had rescued all those years ago.
"Je t'aime aussi, mon fils," Jean Luc replied. "I'm so glad you came. Come now, let's go 'ave some supper, d'accorde? Tante gonna want to see you after, gonna tell you all my secrets, no doubt."
Remy laughed softly and stood, once more trying to pull himself together. He saw his father's eyes shining up at him with such love, he thought his heart would burst. He gripped his father's wheelchair and steered him to the door.
After a glorious meal and a nice hot cup of coffee, Remy crept down the stairs to see his Tante. She had made him promise to come down after supper, they had much to talk about. This house had a massive cellar and she had her quarters there, "down in the dark where the spirits were strongest" as she always said. He knew the way, but followed a steady trail of lit candles, loving the smell of the melting wax.
Tante Mattie was a voodoo priestess and a healer, the atmosphere of her rooms pretty much settled that. One whole wall of her livingroom area was a massive ornate shrine decorated with candles and statues of both Christian and voodoo figures, paying homage to both equally. Beads and candles of many colors were lit all around, making it seem spooky to an outsider, but Remy was comfortable here. This was where he went to get guidance, to be healed from all of his ills.
Mattie was waiting for him in her kitchen and set a cup of hot steaming tea in front of him. He was already a bit buzzed from the coffee, but knew better than to refuse. He sipped it politely and was struck with a sudden deja'vu. This was the same tea Anya had given him.
"You a skinny, skinny boy," Mattie complained again.
"Oui, Tante," he replied automatically, kowtowing to her authority.
"Take yo' shirt off, fils."
He did as he was told, always uncomfortable with his scars exposed. They meant nothing to her and the sight of them didn't stop her hands from running over his torso, she had seen the damage Sabretooth had done to him when he had returned after he had been dumped in Antarctica. Her son had been marked by the Devil himself and lived, to her it meant he had been chosen for some great deed yet to be announced. When she spoke of it to him at the time, he brushed her off bitterly, arguing that it only marked him as incredibly foolish and a terrible sinner who deserved only to rot in Hell. She let it go, knowing better than to argue with such a tortured soul. He would heal himself over time. Back in the here and now, her soft and gentle touch paused over his stomach. He grimaced and grunted softly in pain when she pressed against him there. She clicked her tongue at him. "What's dis, eh? What's dis my son 'as done to his'self?"
"Two years wit'out yo' cookin', Tante. It done me in."
"Humph. Got bit by de bottle more likely. What dat fool City doctor give you?"
Remy just snickered softly. "Some pills fo' de ulcer, more fo' de pain inside my head. Gambit quit wit all dat, it wasn't doin' 'im no good."
"Dat's cause de pain ain't inside yo' head, son. It's inside yo' soul. Got yo' spirit all ripped up, yo' inner self all been disrupted. You all messed up, boy."
"You always 'ad a talent fo' understatement, Tante. Tell me 'ow you really feel, neh?"
She smacked him playfully on the head. "Don't you take dat tone wit' me, boy. Yo' Tante seen a lotta t'ings in dis worl', enough to know when 'er boy been touched by someone from somewhere else. You got some strange magic swirlin' up in yo' shine. Dat's where de trouble is."
Gambit couldn't help but shudder. There it was again, another mystic woman making comments about his shine. "Got touched by an angel, chere. 'E give me a little present."
"You an' de angels weren't gettin' along too good last I checked. When de last time you been down on yo' knees givin' worship to de one who made you?"
Remy bowed his head. "Je suis de'sole. T'ree, four months."
"Even after His angel touch you?"
" 'E wasn't no angel like dat, Tante."
"Umm hmm. How you know dat?"
" 'Cause 'e jus' a friend of mine."
"His touch a touch of love. 'E gifted you to better prepare for what's to come."
Remy scowled, not happy with any off hand remarks about Armageddon. "What you talkin' 'bout?"
"Dis a gift of his love. You lay wit dis boy?"
Remy's body froze and his face flushed furiously as he glared at her.
She only laughed at him. "Dat make no nevermind wit me, some powerful spirits can change what dey are, just to fool wit us. Make us question de rules."
"I ain't been wit no man, Tante," Remy insisted, his voice firm. "C'est la ve'rite'."
"You thought about it, though," she whispered, petting him. "Wit dis one, wit yo' angel. You all shook up inside, lost some of yo' confidence wit de girls, eh? Can't fool me none."
"What's dis got to do wit my shine?" he asked, trying desperately to change the subject.
" 'E give you a gift. It's a tool."
" P'etetre...p'etetre. But Gambit can't control it."
"You a strong boy, you'll figure it out soon enough. You jus' gotta get a handle on it, is all. You gotta learn how it be used. You own it, it don't own you, comprenez? It speaks to you, so give it a name an' make it your friend. Speakin' of which, de spirits be doin' a lotta talkin' to yo' Tante lately. Dey got a lot to say 'bout you."
"Tante, you know Gambit don't believe none of dat."
"Dat's cause all de big warriors got a belly full of doubt. You 'ave to find yo' strength again, get yo' inner spirit straight." She raised his arm, using a thumb to rub the scar there on his wrist, the one left over from his failed suicide attempt. She had seen that injury as well when he had come back from Antarctica. This scar scared her more than the terrible rents across his chest. "Tante an' 'er spirits 'ave many words about you, oui. It's good you come home b'fore you done anyt'ing stupid like dis again."
Gambit grumbled irritably to himself, not really wanting to hear it. "What yo' spirits say, Tante, hien? 'What poor wretch we gonna pick on today?' "
She laughed. "Dey say you gonna save de worl', fils. What else would dere be?"
She moved past her grumbling adopted son to the cupboards. Inside, she had a large number of jars and packets of herbs and spices. She took out several of these and began to combine some of them together in a mix for tea. "You take no more pills. You drink Tante's tea and eat up all 'er food, comprenez? She gonna fix you up right and take away yo' pain like she always do."
"Oui, Tante. Merci."
"Now, Tante hear talk of de boys wantin' to take you out tomorrow. You go wit dem, have a good time. You need to laugh, to play. Jean Luc not always so wrong when he tell you dat a soft warm touch is fo' de best. You take what God sends you and say 'Merci, mon Dieu', comprenez?"
He laughed now, not so angry any more. "Oui, Tante."
"Now you go on and sleep, take de rest of dat tea up wit you," she ordered, pointing to the cup on the table. "Had de White Twins make up yo' room fo' you, everyt'ing all fresh and clean."
"White Twins?"
"Oui. Jean Luc been takin' in a lot more strays since you been gone. Seem like de more sick he gets, de more he seek redemption. He took in seven kids dis year. Dey all have magic, all have powers like you. Some of dem quite young. Dey a 'andful fo' me, but I manage. Got dem running de house, keepin' dem busy. Yo' father sure like a house full of kids. Most of you boys are grown up and gone."
Remy nodded and rose, slipping his shirt back on. He was sure to grab the cup from the table. "See you in de mornin', chere. Mebbe we do some shoppin'? Gambit didn't bring nuthin' wit 'im fo' de Christmas tree."
"Si bien, mon fils. You sleep now, t'ink 'bout what yo' Tante say."
"Oui, chere. Je t'aime." He gave her a kiss, loving her.
"Je t'aime aussi. Sleep," she repeated and sent him on his way.