(Seven)
Remy ran down the corridor to the Med Lab, praying he wasn't too late. He had been horrified when he finally played back his voice mail messages and learned about Kimble's swift decline. He had been at ease all this time because Henry had said that Kimble was at least stable. That hadn't been the case at all. When he finally heard Henry's repeated pleas for his return he cursed himself for isolating himself and came as quickly as possible. He rushed into the Med Lab and couldn't help himself but moan with dismay at the sight that greeted him.
The entire Blue Team and more was gathered outside one of the private hospital rooms Henry had in there, the ones for only the severest of injured people. The cluster of people there were milling about and whispering softly, looking just a little too much like the family that had gathered outside of Jean Luc's door the day he had died. Two chairs had been pulled together and Seth lay across them, his head in his Mistress' lap, his cheeks red and stained from tears. He was no longer crying, but it was clear he had been doing so for some time and had finally fallen asleep from exhaustion. Gambit took all that in and shivered, each step that brought him closer to the door had him wanting only to run away, as if he could escape the horror that surely awaited him if he was just never told what it was.
"Remy," Scott said, finally noticing him. Cyclops had the advantage of having his eyes covered, he could hide his grief from any ordinary man, but Gambit could see in his shine that he was suffering just a little. He was worried for the team. He was worried for Gambit.
"Scott. Is 'e in dere?"
"Yeah. Go on in."
He took two steps but was stopped when Storm came up to him, her arms open. He was worried for Kimble, but this he would not refuse. He fell into them and let her squeeze him tight. Her warm smells surrounded him, his sister at heart, and she was whispering to him, "I'm sorry about your father. About all of this."
"Merci, chere," he breathed, happy to hear it. Her vibrations of love for him and her concern for his grief washed over him, making him feel loved and happy. He gave her a squeeze in return, "I gotta go see him."
She released him and he moved away, letting one of her hands slip through his as he left. Warren and Kurt were closest to the door and they parted for him, letting him go inside. As he passed, Kurt lay a hand on his shoulder in comfort. Gambit smiled at him, again grateful for these gentle shows of support, but kept going.
He wasn't prepared for the vision that awaited him. Kimble lay covered up on one of the beds, so still and lifeless Remy was sure he had come too late. Kimble wasn't alone at least, the Professor was there with Logan and Karen, keeping watch. In an odd twist of fate, Rogue was there as well, leaning against the back wall. Gambit did a quick inventory and noted Molly's absence from all those gathered, but didn't think anything of it at the time, he was focused only on the pale white figure on the bed.
"Where ya been, Gumbo?" Logan growled impatiently from one side. He cocked his head and sniffed at Remy, noticing the Cajun's fine condition and well being. The wounded look that had been a cloud over the thief these past weeks was gone, and so was that strange scent of sickness. If he didn't know better - and he didn't - he would say the boy had even gained a few pounds in his short absence. This he had not expected. He noted Remy's fine attire and was surprised to find it familiar. Hadn't some of the Dognan officers back on Cerise worn such clothes? What had this boy been up to?
"My father..." Remy answered him, an intense pain inside his chest stealing his breath. He didn't elaborate, but walked briskly to Kimble's side and took one of his slender white hands. He gasped sharply in fear and surprise when he felt how mushy Kimble's body felt, it was like he was grasping a ghost. More than that, Kimble was wet and leaking water. What he didn't know of course was that Henry had kept him in the hot tub for as long as possible. Once in the water Kimble had warmed but his body also had absorbed some of the water as well, and now that he was out, it was leaking out of him like a heavy sweat. He was packed with towels to catch most of it, but they were now all soaked.
The hot tub had been a good idea and had been helpful, but even that was no longer enough to keep Kimble going. The Siskan was finished, Kimble had nothing left. Kimble's fingers were ice cold and Remy could only barely register the slight rise and fall of Kimble's chest as he breathed small, shallow breaths. The Siskan was once more covered in a now insulated electric heating blanket, but it didn't matter. Gambit could see by the brightly glowing coils that the warming blanket was turned up as high as it could go. In theory, Kimble could be scorched by it, but it wasn't happening. He was much too cold. His body was frigid, the inner core seeping its intense cold outward until it had chilled the whole of his body. It didn't seem possible someone so still and cold could still be alive. The oxygen mask still covered his face, frosting only slightly as he breathed his tiny, halfhearted breaths. It was clear he wouldn't last much longer.
Remy thought of his dream and couldn't believe what he saw before him now. It just wasn't possible, the vision of a fully restored and confident Kimble had been much too real not to come true. Seeing Kimble like this renewed the grief for his father he'd put on hold while at Trishnar's. He touched Kimble's face and said, " 'Ey, Kim. You still dere, buddy?"
The Siskan didn't respond, only took another unwanted, mechanical breath.
"Come on, now. Don' do dis," he called out again, sending out as strong of a vibration of love as he dared, he didn't want anyone else in the room to feel it and misunderstand. /Come on, Kimble. Come back to me./
Again Kimble didn't respond, it was as if he was already gone. Remy cursed softly, his eyes never leaving Kimble's face.
"Remy..." Rogue said, moved by his pain and reached out to him.
"I called you, chere. I called you from N'awlins," he said without looking up. In spite of the calmness of his voice, it was an accusation of neglect. The truth is, he hadn't thought much about her, not after he had left Trishnar's. It had taken some time to get here – an hour to arrange the flight, five hours for the trip back here. He'd had the time to reflect on things, so he had. What he had found was that now that his anxiety had vanished and his inner peace was restored, his perspectives on a lot of things had changed. He had made peace with the fact that she wasn't the one Anya had promised him and funny, once he had done that, it felt fine. Just fine.
"Ah got your message, but things just got...busy. Ah couldn't come," she said lamely, uncertain just what his passivity meant. He wasn't fighting with her, he wasn't teasing, he wasn't doing anything. She wasn't sure what it meant only that it frightened her a little. Something had changed.
He turned his head to face her and didn't believe. /Kimble would have come. He would have come if it killed him,/ Shi'ow-ri whispered soft and low from inside. /She is not the one. You know who you want, who you need. She isn't it, don't waste any more of your time on her. Don't be stupid./
Remy was a bit startled by Shi'ow-ri's voice. It was louder now and clearer. Stronger. That last blast of Kundatesh from Aiden had clearly boosted his ability again and so much more - as bad as all this was, he felt his inner strength had returned, he wasn't the mess he would have been before. He could handle this, he could handle her. He addressed the woman in front of him without rancor. " 'S all right, Rogue. Gambit wasn't all dat surprised," he said gently, turning away.
Rogue gasped from a jolt of unexpected pain and backed away, embarrassed at being dismissed like that. So much for her great plan. Clearly things were changing between them, Remy was changing. He wasn't who he used to be and she wasn't quite sure how to deal with that.
"Ah, Remy. Thank God you're here," Henry said as he entered the room. He came to Gambit's side and placed his large blue hands on the thief's shoulders. "I'm sorry about your father."
"Merci. What 'appened? You said Kimble would be okay," Remy replied, his voice rising just a little. Rogue he could dismiss, but his concern for Kimble he could not.
Beast's shoulders slumped some in disappointment. "I'm sorry, Remy. His injuries were more severe than I had initially thought. I didn't realize just how much his inner core was freezing him. I've tried everything, believe me," Henry said, his exhaustion and misery obvious. "I've run out of options, my friend, I'm afraid the outcome of this is inevitable."
"Inevitable?"
"I'm sorry, Remy. Kimble's injuries are much too severe and we have no way to repair him. He will die."
"Ne jamais! Never!" Remy cried, his control slipping just a bit as he felt a sharp stabbing pain, stab through his chest. No way was this possible. All his time spent at Trishnar's wasn't for nothing, he knew that deep inside. "Anya say he gonna live! She say it, it mus' be true!" Remy protested in a useless denial, his eyes growing shiny with tears of frustration and pain that threatened to fall. This couldn't be happening! Not now!
"What's going on?"
The group turned to see a bewildered Neal Sharra standing in the doorway of the Med Lab as if Anya herself had conjured him up. He slouched against the doorjamb, crossing his arms with a bemused smile.
(break)
Only moments before, Neal Sharra had driven up the drive of the Xavier Mansion, humming along with the radio and thumping his hand against his thigh. He had taken a necessary six month leave of absence and dropped off the face of the earth, taking a well deserved vacation. The whole thing with Bin Laden last year had really upset him and he had taken off, needing to think about things, about life. He had sent home for money and gotten passage back to India but his little journey hadn't stopped there. Wanting to recover his Muslim roots and heritage, he had made a pilgrimage to Mecca as well and been all the better for it. He had needed to know that it was okay to be Muslim, that those evil men were not the true face of his religion. He was at peace now and happy - and more than ready to come home.
The funny thing about stepping out of the world and forgetting it is that it doesn't forget you. When he finally picked up his phone, he found the same thing Remy had – a great many messages from Henry begging him to return home. And so here he was, not exactly rushing since Henry hadn't given him any details in his messages, but home nonetheless.
Neal parked his car in the garage, happy to see his parking space hadn't been given to anyone new. There were always new people being rotated and added to the team. There was an old joke that if one were to stray away too far, first your parking space would go and then your room. This place was always in motion.
He grabbed his bags from the trunk of his car and used his key to enter the house. Nothing here had changed, it was as if he had never left. At least the house hadn't been destroyed by huge robots or the Brotherhood, the emergency must be of some other nature. He stood in the large foyer, under the chandelier Kimble had once admired, and looked around him, oddly disappointed. He had expected a welcoming committee of some sort. He should have been seen coming up the drive through the security cameras. For all the calls begging him to return, the place sure was empty.
He went up the stairs to the dorms and found his room untouched, just a little dustier than as he had left it. That wasn't too surprising, he hadn't told anyone he was coming back, saving it for a surprise. It was one thing for the foyer to be empty, but he hadn't even seen anyone on the way up here. The house was empty, creepy. He casually wondered if maybe they knew he'd been coming after all and were having some kind of surprise party for him. That would be cool.
"Nah," he grumbled happily to himself. "Don't flatter yourself."
He unpacked quickly, but paused as he caught his reflection in the mirror of his dresser. He was a young man in his late twenties with dark brown skin and black hair. His eyes were dark and serious, disguising his normally cheerful heart. He was a mutant as were most of the X-men, but one of the lucky, you'd never know there was anything different about him just by looking at him. He was like Mary and had the ability to produce balls of bio-kinetic plasma energy from his body and hurl them like bombs. He powered up from the sun as well and was always dark and well tanned from being outside so much. He flashed his winning smile and ran a hand through his hair, playing around. That was better, but lacking an audience. Jeez! Where was everybody?
He left his room and came halfway down the stairs on his way back to the foyer. He stopped, startled, as a disheveled Remy LeBeau burst in through the front door with a bang and bolted down the hallway towards the elevator for the lower level. He came in with a large black duffle bag, but had dumped it just inside the door, not even thinking twice about just leaving it there. He was wasn't wearing the usual trench coat, in fact he had on something that looked like an officer's uniform, prompting Neal to wonder if maybe the thief had just come in from some kind of undercover mission. If he had, it wasn't going well. Remy's face was white as a ghost. Neal called out to him, but wasn't surprised when the thief didn't answer. They didn't know each other at all, only passed each other by a few times in the hall without speaking a word. In spite of this, Remy's fear was all too plain.
Neal came down the stairs and turned the corner in time to see the elevator door close over Gambit's body. He was pacing in the car, unable to keep still even for the few seconds it took for the door to close. He had covered his face in his hands, muttering softly, and never saw Neal at all.
Neal followed him to the elevator, but would have to wait until the car returned to continue. What was going on? Something big after all, the house was much too quiet.
(break)
Now, standing in the Med Lab doorway, Neal had never taken in such a perplexing sight. Here was the group's resident thief, a man reportedly who cared about nothing or anyone else besides himself, displaying real concern for a man who lay on the bed, a man who lay more dead than alive. Neal was a newer X-man and had just missed Kimble last year. Under orders by his Mistress, Kimble had stayed mostly in the lower levels before he was taken and Neal never had the opportunity to meet the Siskan until now.
"Neal! Thank God!" Henry shouted, and grabbed at the newcomer as if he had to prove to himself the guy was real. He tore the young Indian man away from his leisurely position against the door frame and dragged him over to the bed.
"Whoa! Easy there, big guy!" Neal said in exasperation as he was towed helplessly closer to where Kimble lay. He looked down at the sickly white creature, this strange man covered with evil looking bruises, and thought, This guy can't possibly be alive! He looks like death itself! "What's going on, guys?"
"Dis's Kimble," Remy explained quickly, self consciously wiping at his eyes. He recognized Neal at once even though they had barely spoken. This was all becoming surreal, like he was still back at Trishnar's and dreaming. "He feed on de plasma. He got hurt real bad, but we didn' 'ave nobody to fix 'im. We need you to power 'im up, s'il vous plait."
Neal looked down at what had to be a corpse. His eyes barely registered Kimble taking the weakest of breaths. For reasons he couldn't explain, the frail, white, winged man frightened him to the core. "No way! What if he makes me sick or something? Who is this guy?"
"Your questions will be answered in good time," the Professor said, smiling now that hope had arrived. "Trust me. Kimble will not harm you. He is not ill, merely a machine out of power."
"What do I do?" Neal asked warily.
"Hold up there, boys," Logan said, interrupting. "Maybe we oughtta think about this."
"T'ink about what, mon ami?" Remy snarled with obvious menace. His hands had fisted automatically and he spread his feet defensively. There was no way he was going to allow Logan or anyone to keep Kimble from being saved. "Dere ain't no question 'ere!"
Logan wasn't about to be intimidated. "Kimble ain't been right since we brung him back. You said he was dangerous. Maybe he's best left alone."
Logan hadn't wanted to be the bad guy here, but these things needed to be said. He had kept silent before, knowing Kimble was surely on his way out, but then Neal had conveniently shown up out of the blue, making this much more difficult. The truth was, the idea of Kimble's passing had filled him with relief. He wasn't happy with the whole Sabretooth thing, especially Remy's report on how Zander had magically created a sword out of thin air and skewed his former Master without a second thought. He felt bad for those who would miss him, Seth and Fallen especially, but now, it was time to let him go.
"Remember what Anya say, he got a job to do. He gotta find 'is angel!" Remy countered. He was trying to keep his voice down and was succeeding to a point. He knew that losing it again and brawling here wasn't going to get him what he wanted. With his emotional stability restored, it was easier than it would have been just a couple of days ago.
"Like ya said, maybe that was just a load of crap, kid," Logan said bitterly. He could see the change in the thief and was happy for it, it would make this all the easier for when Kimble was gone.
"Non, it's true!" Remy insisted, not giving an inch. His experience at Trishnar's Mansion only fueled his conviction. He felt he knew what had to be done here. He would make this happen if he had to grab Neal and toss him on the bed himself.
"Look, kid. This is what he wants. His will is gone. You fix him up and he'll never forgive you," Logan said a little more gently. He wasn't lying here, either. Kimble hadn't even tried to stop his own steady decline. He had just closed his eyes the day Logan had placed him in the hot tub and never opened them again.
"Non! Dis what 'Shay wants an' she ain't nuthin' but a scared little girl wit a broken heart! Fix 'im! Let 'Shay be mad at me, I don' care! I won' give up on Kimble 'cause 'e wouldn't give up on me!"
"What's going on?" Neal asked, hopelessly confused. "Who's 'Shay?"
"That's complicated," the Professor replied. " Just be patient for a moment and I'll explain everything."
"We gotta fix Kimble now, mes amis," Remy insisted, looking at them all. "Kim ain't got no time."
"Maybe Logan's right," Karen whispered softly, reaching for Remy's hand.
He pulled away from her as if she might burn him. "What is dis, eh? You all so ready to quit on 'im now he's down? Dis man save Maylee's life! 'E save mine! No way am I goan' let 'im die! I'll take 'im outta 'ere m'self! Neal ain't de only one wit plasma! I'll find someone else! Just try an' stop me!"
Logan cocked his head again, hearing something in Remy's voice. This was a man with a plan. He had been up to more than just his father's funeral. What's down in New Orleans, boy? Where ya been? He would find out, one way or another.
"I'll go with you," Seth offered boldly, turning the heads of everyone in the room. He had woken from his nap and was a teary mess but in that moment he had never looked stronger. Fallen had followed him in and she now looked at him in surprise. She was seeing in Seth a confidence that he hadn't shown much of before. She was watching him change before her very eyes. Kimble's return had affected him in ways she hadn't expected. He was quiet, yet resolved, and not always the obedient, soft pilot he had been inside the system.
"He's my brother and my father," Seth continued, now that he had Remy's attention. "I'd go to the ends of the Earth for him." He met Gambit's grief stricken eyes with his own and they both knew the other's strength. Kimble would not die this day. Remy gave him a strange smile of unexpected kinship before the Professor interrupted.
"Easy, people. It shouldn't come to this," he said, perplexed at all the melodrama. "Kimble may have once been a mere computer program, but he is sentient and therefore deserves a chance to survive. I suggest we repair him and sort all of this out later. Realistically, we owe him a great deal. He has sacrificed much for us in spite of our continued lack of understanding of him. Neal, proceed, please."
Logan cursed softly and backed away without leaving the room. He wanted to walk away, but didn't want to take a chance on not being around if Kimble freaked out after being revived. Karen followed him, careful to keep her distance, watching him pace.
"What do you want me to do?" Neal repeated, still uncertain.
"Kimble feeds on energy, the plasma you create. We need you to feed him," Henry said.
"How do I do that?"
"Touch him."
"Non," Remy cautioned. "Just make a little ball of it and toss it. Don' let 'im touch you. 'E'll take too much."
Henry nodded his agreement and steered the young Indian man over to the bedside. Neal cupped his hands and created a small ball of plasma. It glowed invitingly, warm and orange. Remy raised Kimble's hands to receive and Neal rolled the ball into Kimble's palms, careful not to actually touch him. The plasma immediately sank into Kimble's skin and he shivered without making a sound, it wasn't enough.
"Do it again," Henry suggested.
Neal obeyed and this time Kimble's eyes fluttered open. He mumbled in Siskan and looked around him with eyes that refused to focus. He tried to rise, but was much too weak. "Mary...?" he gasped weakly and lay back, exhausted.
Neal hit him again, a little larger this time, and Kimble laughed, feeling the heat rush into him meaningfully now. He arched his back and moaned with happiness at the warmth. Henry pulled the warming blanket back and the small crowd watched as the rough, mangled skin of his feet smoothed out like magic and his toes returned to normal. The stars that could be seen twinkling from inside of him faded out as his body became more solid, more there. The horrible bruises on his chest and legs blurred and melted away, revealing his sparkling white normal skin. He flexed his feet, stretching unconsciously and slid his toe claws out, tacking them down onto the bed. Kimble shuddered in obvious relief from the pain that had haunted him since his arrival and laughed playfully at no one, pawing at his face with his hands.
Neal went to charge him some more, but Henry cautioned him to wait. "Not yet. Let's wait and see where he's at first. I don't want him to have too much."
"Kimble, buddy? Dat you?" Remy asked with a smile, touching his cheek.
Kimble giggled drunkenly and blinked up at him. "Uhhnn... Remy? Whatz goin' on, man?"
"Not much. Just you gettin' a little fixed up, is all," Gambit said, laughing himself at the playful sound of Kimble's happiness he had missed for so long.
Henry approached the pilot and began to look him over. Kimble pawed up at him, confused from his sudden awakening and being fussed over. His memory was a blur, he had no idea when or where he was. Was this a dream? He had been having the most wonderful dreams of his father and Kristalay.
Henry could feel the heat in Kimble's skin, a very good sign, and he shined a light in Kimble's eyes and saw his huge, dilated pupils. Kimble was buzzed now and fought him sloppily, not wanting the bright light in his eyes. Henry wondered if Kimble was even truly aware of what was going on, but at least this was much better than he was before. He sat Kimble up, hoping some movement would revive him. Kimble obeyed but slumped against him, warm and toasty. He garbled something else.
Henry looked at Remy. "What?"
" 'E ask where 'is Master is. He don't remember it's me. He's stoned."
"Kimble?" Henry snapped his fingers, but Kimble was giggling and snorting as he swayed. He was warm now and had a nice buzz from the influx of healing energy.
Kimble rolled his head back and squinted up at Neal. "Yer not Mary...Who're you?" he slurred.
"I'm Neal Sharra. I'm the one who fixed you up."
"Thatz a funny name..." Kimble giggled, then a hard look suddenly froze the features of his face.
"Mine!" Zander snarled and snatched at Neal, grabbing him roughly about the face and pulling him close. Kimble's body had been healed, but not charged as much as was fully possible. Zander wasn't satisfied and wanted more. He wasn't about to wait for Henry's okay, his desire to survive was impossible to contain and it forced him to this extreme. As Kimble had grown weaker after the Master had abandoned them, Zander didn't have the ability to push the pilot to try and live again. Now that it was here, this was one opportunity Zander wasn't going to waste.
In less than a second and well before anyone could react, Zander used a powerful telekinetic pulse to push everyone back and created a box from thin air, trapping himself inside with his prey, just as he had done in the Baltimore bank with Wolverine. Neal struggled but was easily overpowered as Zander took a huge draw of plasma from him. Zander lips came to his in a vampire kiss, strangling the scream from his throat. They hung there together for a moment, locked together like lovers, before they fell to the floor in a tangle as Neal's legs gave way. The others rushed to pull them apart, but couldn't get through Zander's protective barrier. Neal was overcome from the draw and his eyes rolled back into his head as he passed out. Logan howled and flung himself at the shield, his rage making him more of a problem than Zander had been. Karen bravely hauled him back, risking injury to herself as she pleaded with him for patience.
Zander released his victim and laughed, feeling the power surging through him. He was hot now and glowing fiercely orange as his body was flooded with the oh so lovely plasma. He rose, hovering and flapping his wings, creating a strong wind from his strength. It felt so wonderful to be alive and at full power once more. He was hopelessly intoxicated now and hovered drunkenly, laughing insanely with joy.
"Easy dere, Zander," Remy coaxed, trying to feel out Zander's mood and intentions. He had recognized the low growl of Zander's voice and recognized the pilot's violent behavior as his. He hadn't expected Zander's arrival but then it made a kind of sense. Zander was the protector of the body. He wanted to live, no matter what the cost.
"This...this is better," the Punisher growled with approval, smiling. He flexed his muscles and stretched, feeling fine.
"Mebbe so, but dere ain't no one 'ere to fight. Let Kimble out. No one's gonna 'urt you."
Zander ignored him, but closed his eyes and breathed deep, simply enjoying this moment and feeling alive. He stroked his hands over his body with a contented growl and shivered from the pleasure of it. He shuddered, and was displaced as Kimble took over, his arousal obvious to all.
"Zander, drop your shield. You don' need it, buddy," Remy continued in his best nice and easy voice, hoping for Zander to see reason. His display of power wasn't helping Kimble's cause.
"I feels good, Remy," Kimble said, his voice slurred and dreamy.
Remy sighed in relief. "Kimble. Hey, buddy. Drop de shield, d'accorde?"
Kimble obeyed immediately, glancing about him in bewilderment. He didn't understand why the shield was there in the first place, he was buzzed from the plasma and still couldn't think properly. He looked around him as he drifted in space, free now from the barrier and distracted by all the people here, and crashed into Remy. They both spilled to the floor in a reckless tangle of limbs, Kimble giggling all the way down. He landed gracelessly with his head in Gambit's lap. He blinked up and smiled when he saw where he was.
"Well, now. This could be fun," Kimble slurred happily, snorting some more as he snickered. His eyes were large with happiness and the love he felt for his friend. All he knew in that moment was that he was home and in no more pain, he couldn't hide his joy.
Remy couldn't hide his joy at Kimble's return. It filled him with a unshakable hope for the future of this pilot and renewed his drive to restore him to what he should be, no matter what the cost. "Sorry, but Gambit don' play wit no crazy pilots too drunk ta fly, cher. Less de fun for me," he teased with a laugh.
"I kin still shows ya a good time," Kimble promised, rising on one arm and kissing Remy full on the mouth.
Gambit startled from the unexpected gesture of affection, but returned the kiss, wincing from the heat of Kimble's renewed and fully charged body. He had been loved much too well by all the Siskans to refuse his friend this kiss, Aiden had seen to that. The reality was, he just didn't want to. Kimble's happiness was the only thing he cared about at this moment, everyone else could go to hell. He gently shoved the rambunctious pilot back down, the heat from Kimble's skin getting to him. "Nice try, Kim. But you know Gambit, 'e a shy boy. Can't perform so good in front of a crowd. Won't be wort' your while, neh?"
Kimble grunted as his eyes closed and he sniffed again, impossibly high. "Then takes me ta bed, ya crazy thief...not that I'll makes it that far, I don' think... I'm so fuckin' high...I loves ya...I missed ya so bad," he garbled and passed out, a happy drunken smile on his face.
Remy was disappointed to see him go but couldn't stop it. He took a moment and blanked out everyone else here in his mind, seeing only Kimble here with him. He pulled the pilot up close and hugged him tightly, relieved and thankful that he was still alive. He had been so frightened when he first saw Kimble here and his death like stillness. To lose Kimble now would have made everything he had learned at Trishnar's a waste. Gone now were the ugly words Kimble had spoken to him in his pain, all Remy wanted to hear was that magical Kimble laugh again. He stayed like this a few moments, just holding his friend and loving him while whispering soft prayers of gratitude. No one made a move to stop him, they were all watching him with a respectful silence. Kimble had been too close to death for anyone to dare to break that happy moment between Siskan and Master. When Remy was ready, he gathered his feet under him and rose awkwardly, picking Kimble up. He grimaced from the feverish heat of his Siskan's body and lay him back on the bed.
"Uh, uh. Holdin' cell," Logan growled, pissed off that Zander had violated Neal so savagely. His temper had cooled, but he was still distrustful.
Remy didn't argue but scooped up his charge and carried him off to the holding cells, his victory won and his smile huge.
"What was that all about?" Rogue asked angrily, stunned that Remy had not only allowed Kimble to kiss him so intimately, but had returned it in kind.
"Maybe you'd better ask him, he was your boyfriend," Wolverine grumbled. His tone suggested he could care less.
Rogue whirled and followed Remy out.
Henry hauled Neal up and lay him on the bed Kimble had previously occupied. The man was drained, but seemed otherwise unharmed. He would sleep it off and wake up all pissed off, yet Henry thought it was still worth it. "Well, that went better than expected," he said, a cheerful smile on his face.
"How's that?"
"When's the last time you heard either of those two laugh?"
"I want Kimble watched," Logan snapped, trying to retain some of his authority. He couldn't stop the smile that teased the corners of his mouth, though. The look of joy on Gambit's face had been enough to release his anger and he hoped all this would turn out well. Perhaps Kimble would shape up and some of this tension would leave them. They had their hands full, Jael was still out there.