(Five)

Three days later and a whirlwind trip across the country later, Remy came out onto the Mansion's widow's peak, carrying a cup of coffee. He had just arrived from Yosemite less than an hour ago and was eager to see his friend, he had quite the surprise in store for his Siskan. The guard was there and Remy dismissed him, wanting to be alone when he talked with Kimble. Gambit squinted and blinked in the bright sun, he usually came out here at night, not in the afternoon like this. He saw Kimble there and took a moment to look him over before walking over to speak to him. Kimble had his back to the sun, his wings fanned out behind him soaking up the heat and energy. He was squatting comfortably in the middle of the widow's peak's patio with his head down. He had Angel strapped to his chest in a Gerry Pack, rubbing her fuzzy head gently with one hand, a look of utter bliss on his face. He looked like a bizarre winged marsupial with her against him, but there was no mistaking the love there he had for this child.

A cup of Earl Grey tea and half a croissant on a plate were beside him. Kimble had found that a combination of sun gathering, Fallen's Ristle and a couple of small meals throughout the day kept him from falling back into his earlier lethargy. His new favorite ritual was to sun himself for an hour or so each morning and late afternoon with a cup of tea. Henry had given him some Earl Grey to try and he'd been hooked ever since.

Kimble looked up when he heard Remy's approach and smiled warmly at his absent friend. "Good morrow, Remy."

"Good morrow," Gambit said with a laugh. It was such an odd greeting.

Kimble held out his hand and Remy took it. Their hands crackled red briefly as Kimble took a small sip of Ristle from him and Kimble chuckled at it. "I missed ya."

"Bien sur. Everybody miss me," Remy teased. "You look better dan de last time I saw you."

"I am...better," Kimble said slowly.

"And who's dis petite?"

Kimble smiled. "S' my Angel."

"Yes, I 'eard you 'ad a new girl. She a little young for you, non?"

Kimble laughed at Remy's joke. He brushed the tawny down on Angel's head and gave her his hand. She grasped his finger and gummed a knuckle merrily, one of her favorite activities.

"And where did you find dis bon jolie fille?"

"Took her from a burnin' building. Guess I'm a reg'lar hero now," he finished bitterly. "Too bad I couldn't git 'er Momma out. I ain't gots no clue how I'm gonna take care 'a Angel like this."

"Babies ain't no big deal, cher. Wit all de women in dis 'ouse, you got plenty of 'elp. Besides, girls dig a guy wit a baby. Works every time."

"An' you know this by experience?" Kimble asked with a grin, quirking an eyebrow.

"Heh, heh. Not yet, non. P'etetre, someday fo' Gambit, just like you."

They sat quietly enjoying the sun for a few moments. Fallen had snagged Remy for a quick update the moment he had arrived. He already knew that Kimble had found the baby two days ago and was given custody of her for now. Seth had called him, almost gushing in his excitement. Seth had taken this as a sign that his brother was on the mend and all would be well.

Kimble had taken his responsibility seriously, Fallen went on to explain. Maybe too seriously - he obsessed over Angel, he took her everywhere he went and never let her out of his sight. He was a Nervous Nelly whenever anyone else besides himself handled her. He read books on child rearing constantly and was frustrated by all the different opinions. Like every new father, he wanted an owner's manual that didn't exist and still seemed reluctant to ask for help. He was too nervous around the others here, fearful of rejection and scorn. He still behaved as though he didn't belong in this house and Fallen was hoping Remy could get Kimble to open up and come back to his old self.

Remy picked up the conversation as though the silent moments never happened. "She a quiet one, non? Most babies I know be screamin' all de time."

"She don' hafta cry. She tells me what she wants. I cain't say as I always know whats ta do 'bout it, but I kin tell what she wants."

"She talks to you?"

"In my head. She looks at me an I jus' know."

Remy scoffed. "You know what she's t'inkin'? You gotta let me in on dat secret. Gambit never knows what girls' re t'inkin'."

Kimble laughed. " 'S funny, huh? Angel an' me. We belong together somehow. She sees inside 'a me. We jus' seem ta know what each other is thinkin 'bout, is all."

"Yeah? What she t'inkin' 'bout you right now?"

"She's wonderin' how I kin be so happy ta have her, an' be all scared inside at the same time."

Remy realized that in ten minutes' time, Kimble had spoken more privately to him than to any one since he had left nearly three weeks ago. "What you afraid of, little brother?"

Kimble paused. "You know what 'Shay done ta the cats, right?"

"Yeah?" Remy asked nervously, not sure he wanted to hear this. He had an idea from the one phone call just what his friend was about to say. What had he said? No phone, no cats, no babies... That and the other comment Lin had made. 'Shay killded the small ones... Gambit braced himself for bad news.

Kimble took a breath and spoke. "Well...he didn' bring her just cats, y' know? Jus' once...jus' once... he..." He lowered his eyes and grasped Angel tightly, shivering.

"We done bad things," Lin whispered, not taking control, but speaking his piece just the same.

" 'E brung you a child?"

"Yeah," Kimble confessed in Lin's place, shivering as he struggled for control. He could hear Lakotashay weeping, but he was firmly at the helm now. She wouldn't be let loose. "It was sick, messed up somehow. Its shine wuz real bad. It wuz gonna die nohow, but y' knows that ain't the point. It don' justify what he wanted us ta do. I don' know where he got it from...hospital maybe...some homeless person...I ain't never told no one...they's gonner takes Angel from me if I do..."

"Paisible, cher. Jus' take it easy now. Jus' relax," Remy said, reaching out as the inevitable tears began to spill down Kimble's cheeks. "Dis jus' between you an' me. You confess it to me, it's good enough. You make a mistake, don' mean you'll do it again."

Kimble wasn't comforted by that, not enough. "Nuthin' kin take back what 'Shay...what-what I done. What scares me th' most wuz how easy it wuz fer him ta git us ta do what he wanted. I'm worried that someone's gonna makes me hurt my Angel an' I won' be able ta stops us."

"Love is a powerful t'ing. It changes you, most times for de better. I'm t'inkin' Angel gonna be very good for you, little brother. You love dis child, non? Gambit can see dis. When it comes down to it, you won't fail 'er. Gambit's t'inkin' mebbe you got a new Mistress an' my Kimble's finally gonna be okay now."

"But I'm always fuckin' up!" Kimble complained as more tears raced down to his chin.

Remy wiped them away as he spoke softly. "Dat's 'cause you keep tryin' ta do it all alone. Let us 'elp you, s'il vous plait."

"I'm talkin' ta ya, ain't I?"

"Oui, but I been gone awhile. I ain't always around. You got to learn to trust de others, too."

"No one's as nice ta me as you."

"Non. I'm de only one you tried to make friends wit. De Professor likes you and so does 'Enry." Kimble nodded, but said nothing more so Gambit continued, "De X-men de best t'ing to 'appen to a scoundrel like me. Dey give me a second chance, dey gonna give it to you, too. A person needs a family, so do you. Dey can 'elp you. Dey can give you whatever you need - trainin', 'elp wit Angel, whatever. It's all right 'ere. You on a team now. We all gonna 'elp you, even dat asshole Logan. You'll see. We gonna take care of you, you gonna take care of us. Dat's 'ow you win. You go alone? You lose every time."

Kimble snickered softly. "Yer pretty smart fer just a kid."

"Oui, dis is true," Gambit admitted with a teasing smile. "Now, speakin' of second chances, Gambit's got a surprise fo' you."

"What's that? More chocolate?"

"Non. Better dan dat."

"You gonna lay with me?" Kimble joked, his voice teasing, but his eyes sad. He knew that wasn't going to happen.

Remy paused, a bit startled by that. He hadn't expected the question and didn't have the standard cocky reply prepared. "Non. Gambit's got sumptin' even better dan dat."

Kimble lowered his eyes, still trying to play the game, but not quite making it. "Ain't no such thing."

"As a matter of fact, dere is. Gambit's found someone who's gonna stop de voices."

"I wuz playin' around. Yer joke ain't no better than mine."

"Dis ain't no joke. We gonna go down dose stairs, put yo' Angel somewhere safe, and put yo' 'ead back together. Let's go, buddy." To emphasize his point, he stood up and held out his hand.

"Yer lyin'," 'Shay said, popping out. "Yer fuckin' with us like ya fuck with evrabody else."

"Gambit don' fuck wit nobody. Not like dis. C'mon."

"You came back, gonna makes it so we don't hurting nobodys no more?" Lin asked in his tiny Siskan. "You kept your promise."

"Dat's right. Gambit come back with de ransom. Don't look like 'e needed it, Kimble come back on 'is own. C'est bien. Let's finish dis."

"This had better not be bullshit," Zander growled.

Remy grinned his best charming smile. "Gambit ever let you down? Trust me."

"Yer a thief."

"Oui. 'An I stole you a doctor. Let's go."

"Karen didn't do shit fer us."

Remy clicked his tongue in playful exasperation. "Zandy, Gambit's an exceptional t'ief. 'E steal you an exceptional doctor."

Zander was very protective of the body, he didn't steal the seat from Kimble without a good reason. His look was one of stubbornness. He did not believe.

Remy crouched down and palmed Zander's cheek, sending him a strong vibration of love. "Gambit ain't gonna let no body 'urt you. Trust me."

Zander let go and Kimble nodded. "All right."

He grabbed his dishes and followed Remy down the stairs.

(break)

The hunt for the Games Master had almost been a disaster. Yosemite National Park was located in Sierra Nevada, California. The idea of California brought images of fun in the sun for Gambit — he couldn't have been any more mistaken. In March, most of the park is covered in deep snow and is really more of a cross country and ski resort. It's mainly wilderness and trees and not even close to being a beach with suntanned young campers.

The team that Storm had flown out consisted of Scott, his wife Jean, Rogue and Gambit. Storm had flown them out, but she was transportation only. There was no way any of the Blackbirds could be risked being kept out in the park for an extended period of time, cloaked or not. Storm or one of the others would come back and pick them up when they were ready to leave. Once in the park, they had top of the line camping gear, a map, and some cloaking devices to help keep them out of sight. Jean would use her power to move them about the park and cover their camp sites as they searched for the Games Master. Their task wouldn't be easy, they had no real clue what they were looking for or when the guy was going to show up. They could search an area and move on, only to have the Games Master possibly show up there the next day. They decided to stay in the more remote areas, figuring that since their quarry came from another world, he would do the same.

Gambit's hope that this nightmare would end quickly was soon dashed. They had come to the end of their second week now with no sign of the Games Master. Trishnar had said March, but not the date. No one knew just how long they would be stuck out here.

They were starting their third week out here and it was late at night when Remy moaned in his sleeping bag, thrashing now and mumbling aloud. "Non...get back! I'm warnin' you... Stop! What're you doin'? Non...dis wasn't supposed to 'appen...Stop! Non...Oh, God! Non...non... Gambit's so sorry... so sorry!"

Cyclops was awake, quite pissed off, and unable to sleep with the racket the thief was making. Remy wasn't screaming, not like their first night here, but the tent was small and they were right next to each other, as good as sharing the same bed. Jean and Rogue were still here in the camp with them, but no one was about to let Rogue and Remy share a tent. They were certain to fight and no one would be sure to sleep then. The tents were divided by gender and now Scott was stuck listening to Remy's pain.

It was true that Scott didn't know Remy that well, but clearly the thief was dreaming of the tunnels. Scott had seen the damage in the Morlock tunnels personally, it was enough to horrify anyone, even the one who was ultimately responsible for it. He could also hear the sadness now in his teammate's tortured dreams, yet had little sympathy. It was too late to bring all those people back. Serves you right, you thieving bastard, he couldn't help but think. Serves you right.

A moment later, Gambit bolted upright, his hands out as if warding off a blow. He blurted out nonsense French curses and gripped his chest, doing his best to calm himself. His lungs had squeezed tightly in his panic and now that he was awake, refused to allow him air. He was suffocating, choking.

No, he was having an anxiety attack, and not for the first time.

He used to dream like this often when he had first returned from his frosty exile. The panic was from the horror of the crime he had committed, the constriction in his lungs was a leftover from nearly freezing to death half a world away. He had been rescued from Antarctica by Russian sledders, but not before he had suffered from frostbite and exposure. He had been taken to a hospital where he had struggled through a lovely bout of pneumonia, something that had left his body scarred deep inside. When thoughts of his crime closed in, so did the panic and the wheezing.

Gambit sat like that a minute, simply shivering and gasping for air, before wiping his frightened tears away. He reached for his cigarettes and shuffled out, saying nothing although he had noticed Cyclops was now awake. This had become routine, really. He had dreamt every night and was exhausted. He wasn't the only one. He knew Scott was having trouble with him, but the stoic leader said nothing, ever the stony martyr.

Remy made his way to the nearest tree and hunched under it. He had grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around himself, cursing the weather. That was the real problem here. It had snowed the first fucking day they had arrived out here and almost every day since. He was freezing his ass off in spite of the protective gear they had brought. Every eventuality had been planned for but this was a nightmare for him. It was no secret to anyone why he was having the dreams - out here, the only thing keeping this from being Antarctica for him was the trees. They were out in the forest not far from Badger Pass, doing their best to avoid the park rangers. They were here in secret without permits to camp as they searched for the Games Master. Why the sick bastard would want to come out here in this mess was beyond him. This had been misery from day one.

Gambit fumbled with his cigarettes, lighting one clumsily in his haste. Yeah, smoking at this moment wasn't the best of plans, but he was thirsty for heat, even from this. He managed to gather enough of a breath to take a drag, enough that he felt some warmth come in. He calmed from it, the tightness in his chest easing a bit. That was better, yes.

He gave a startled snort and looked up as he heard the other tent open and saw Rogue come out. It was the middle of the night, well past midnight and he'd woken everybody, how embarrassing. He couldn't look at her as she tugged a blanket around herself and shuffled over. "You okay, Sugah?"

"Oui, chere," he replied softly, his voice soft and strained. He was breathing a little better now, but he wasn't near ready to run a marathon or anything. "Je suis bien."

"Me an' Jean had a talk. You should bunk with me for a while. Poor ol' Cyke ain't had a lick of sleep since we got here."

Remy closed his eyes and smiled. "Oh? An' dey gonna sleep any better wit de two of us fightin' like dogs?"

"Ah promise to be good if you will."

He looked up at her, a little surprised by the kindness in her tone. This trip had been difficult, his companions not the ones he would have chosen for himself. Scott was a domineering asshole and they argued constantly about which way to search. Rogue was his ex-girlfriend, one he had threatened to kill only just a couple a weeks before. The strain there was obvious. Jean was the saving grace in all of this. She was very good at mediating and keeping them all from turning on each other. This motley group had been chosen for Remy's protection, his three teammates were some of the toughest on the team. Jean was smart enough to know that some of the strain was coming from Remy – as much as Babette had taught him to control his empathy, he was only a beginner when it came to his mental shields. His empathy was leaking out and his foul mood and frustration with this disastrous trip was getting past his shields and effecting the group. Jean had spoken to the others and her patient interventions had kept this from falling apart.

Rogue had listened to Jean and she had been good, that was true. She and Remy hadn't argued once since they had arrived but he had just figured it was Jean keeping the peace. Jean had gone out of her way to keep them separated and apart long enough for no issues to come up. They had all been civil with one another - well, all but Remy and Scott. They argued bitterly and Jean was often forced to settle their petty wars. She knew most of Gambit's tension came from lack of sleep. The thief had known he would be forced to camp - something he disliked intensely to begin with - but he hadn't counted on the snow.

The first nightmare had been the worst. He had woken up screaming and the others rushed out, thinking they were under attack. Remy had slunk off afterwards, horribly embarrassed and beside himself with misery. He had seen Sabretooth's eyes and felt those horrible claws ripping through his chest, he had screamed Victor's name and almost exploded the tent in his befuddled defense. Scott had been forced to hit him to bring him awake and Remy decked him in return, not knowing where he was or what was going on. He left a huge bruise there and couldn't look Cyclops in the face after that. It was a lucky thing he hadn't knocked Scott's sleep goggles off and blasted his own head off. Scott had learned his lesson quickly and didn't try waking Remy again. If Remy got too rowdy, he grumbled and snuck into the girl's tent, ignoring Rogue's complaints.

Back outside the tents, Rogue tried to ease the pain of her ex-boyfriend. "C'mon, Sugah. Let's go get some rest," she suggested, tugging on him. She' had seen Jean take advantage of Remy's departure to sneak into the boy's tent to be with her husband. That left the girl's tent empty.

"Look, chere. You an' me -"

Rogue shushed him. "Why you always gotta think with your dick? C'mon. Ah'm tired an' it's freezin' out here."

He grumbled, but followed her back to the tent. He snuggled down in Jean's now empty sleeping bag. It was still warm and toasty and felt wonderful after the frigid air outside. Rogue scooched close to him, keeping her own bag as a safety net in between them, and put her arms around him as best she could. He resisted her at first, but then relaxed, too tired and low to fight her off.

"See? Now this is better," she soothed. Inwardly she was elated. She still believed she could win him back, but knew she would have to take it nice and slow. He was resisting her, wounded deeply with his thoughts all twisted by that sick, Siskan bastard. This time, she would have to put some effort into drawing him back in. She could do that.

"Merci, chere. Merci..." Remy mumbled and drifted off back to sleep. He dreamed once more, but this time with the warm arms around him, he saw not Victor Creed, but the soft blue eyes of his daughter, Molly.

Remy finally accomplished his goal early the next morning. As the sun had slowly risen, there was a trace of something in the clouds above the bright red ball, something that called to him. A shimmer in the gloom, a sign. He ignored all of Scott's bitter protests and ordered them all to pack up. The strain was getting to them all and Cyclops had a fit, not liking Remy's tone. Gambit told him he could stay behind at camp if he wanted, he just didn't give a shit anymore. He'd gotten his sign and Scott could go stuff himself for all he cared. Jean had to step in once more and now they were here, waiting for the thief to shit or get off the pot.

Gambit was standing just inside the tree line, deciding his fate, a pair of binoculars in his poor freezing fingers. All he could see was a young teenager sitting on a log outside of a tiny cabin, tip tapping away on a laptop computer, a radio headset around his ears. He didn't look frightening, this computer nerd with his glasses and red longish hair falling about his face. Not frightening at all unless you considered that he was dressed for summer and was sitting where there had been no cabin just two days before. He was locked in deep concentration, not even aware he was being spied upon.

Gambit sighed and shifted his feet nervously. He looked back at his companions and spoke softly. "Dis look like de guy, but b'fore we go too far, Gambit wants to get some t'ings straight, y'all."

Rogue crossed her arms and squinted a little, already defensive against his arrogance. He was in charge of this operation yes, but something about his tone disturbed her. He was speaking like he knew exactly what he was doing when they all knew he was really just winging this. Scott, used to being the leader, didn't look any happier.

Remy didn't wait for them to start arguing, he went on to say, "Dis Gambit's show. You let 'im do all de talkin', comprenez? Dis fo' Kimble an' I ain't about to let any of you screw it up."

"Let's just get on with it, Swamp Rat," Rogue snapped, irritated with his tone.

"You come wit me, y'all gotta show some patience," Remy said, taking some of the sharpness out of his voice. He had wanted them to listen to him, but he could see that the arrogance wasn't working. He needed them to go along with whatever might happen out there, he had every reason to suspect there might be a few snags in the cross cultural department. "Dese guys ain't like us, dey got a different way of doin' t'ings. Gambit spent a week at Trishnar's, got a feel fo' dis. If 'e got some Siskans wit 'im, don't be put off if dey a bit more friendly dan you used to. Jus' don' be mean about it, d'accorde?" he said, looking at Scott in particular.

"We promise to behave," Scott said, his own irritation plain. He just wanted this done and was hoping this was really the guy Remy had come to see. It sure didn't look like it from here.

Jean took Scott's arm and smiled at him, hoping to clam him down. "Relax, dear. I'm sure you've faced more dangerous guys than this one."

Remy just laughed, thinking of Trishnar's girls. "Don' be so sure, mes amis."

They walked out into the clearing and up to the boy working on his computer. The kid was casually dressed in a cut off sweatshirt and khaki shorts. He wore unlaced hiking boots with no socks, looking for all the world like a surfer who had gotten lost in the snow. He looked up, surprised to see them, but made no move to run away. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, we lookin' fo' yo' daddy. De guy around?" Remy asked, trying to look as unintimidating as possible.

"I'm here by myself."

Remy cocked his head in surprise. The kid didn't look a day over fourteen, small and bookish. Even a human of this age would never be out here in the woods all alone like this. Gambit grinned and asked, "You de Games Master?"

"Who's asking?"

Remy reached under his sweater and pulled out the necklace Trishnar had given him. "Friend of Trishnar. Said de Games Master would be 'ere."

The boy regarded him suspiciously, not really looking at the amulet. "What's your name?" he asked in Siskan.

"I am Remy LeBeau and dese are my friends, Rogue and Jean and Scott Summers."

The boy wasn't the least bit interested in Gambit's companions, he was looking only at him. "Where did you meet Trishnar?"

"Spent a week up at 'is house. Down in N'awlins."

"You see his Siskans?"

Remy grinned. "Of course."

"The Blue?"

"Aiden."

The boy turned away from him and tapped furiously on his computer. Remy heard a buzzing ring, he had activated some kind of remote phone. Remy smiled when he heard Babette's voice pick up on the other end. He was being checked up on. There was a swift conversation in a language Gambit didn't understand, but he presumed it was Dognan. The boy looked up at him and handed him the headset.

Remy slid off his pack, getting comfortable, and took it, unable to disguise his happiness to be speaking to Babette again. He felt as close to her as if she was his sister. He laughed a little as he spoke, the thought of her warming him. "Bonjour, mon jolie."

"You made it, sees me."

"Oui. Guess de little fella's a bit jumpy."

"Like that they all are. Don't be offended, you."

"Not dis boy. It wort' it just to 'ear yo' voice, mon ador'ee. How's yo' Dreamer? He get dat package I sent?" Not a week after his return to New York Remy had gone to the City and spent an outrageous amount of money on expensive paints and thick paper for his new friend. He sent it all down with a request for something nice and pretty for Kimble. Something colorful and happy.

Babette's beautiful laughter trickled from the phone. "Oh, yes. Quite pleased was he. Your request has been fulfilled. Something at home for you is waiting."

"Merci beaucoup, chere. Tell him I'll check it out as soon as I get back. Gambit's gotta go now, gotta get back to work."

"All right then. Goodbye."

"Je t'aime, chere. Au revoir."

He handed the headset back, a small smile on his lips. He had noted with some guilt the look of jealousy on Rogue's face. These words he had spoken, he used to say them to her. He hadn't wanted to hurt her but at the same time hadn't been able to hide what he felt for his new friends.

The boy took the headset and held out his hand. "I am Darken, the Games Master."

Remy shook it, bowing slightly. "No offense, mon fils, but we was expectin' someone a little bit older dan you."

"My dad. He got wiped out in the Clan insurrection on Cerise two months ago," Darken replied, no hint of pain from the loss in his voice. "I am the Games Master now."

Remy couldn't hide a look of surprise at the news. Looks like the folks back there had accomplished more than he had ever figured they would. "Okay... well, can you fix a shattered Siskan?" he asked, getting right to the point.

"Yeah, if it's not fried too badly. Did you bring it with you?" the boy asked, scanning the group with his eyes. It was the first time he had really looked at them.

"Non. 'E part of de Game. Too risky."

Darken nodded. "I've got three clients ahead of you, alpha," he said, acknowledging the mutant before him. "I should be able to handle them over the phone but you'll have to wait. You guys look a bit dusty, why don't you crash in my cabin? I've got a few Siskans in there, they'll take care of you while you're waiting."

Of course the Games Master would have some, it was his job to repair them. Gambit hadn't been expecting this, but now that it came down to it, he was glad. He hoped that exposing his teammates to them would help them appreciate Kimble's plight. That and his curiosity was peaked, he had definitely grown obsessed with the species, the thought of having Siskans around him again raised his spirits. He couldn't wait to meet them, it was sure to be interesting. "We got dat much time?"

Darken looked back at him with a knowing grin. "Yeah. Three hours at least. Eat, wash up, play. They could use the company. I've never had much of a taste for them, they belonged to my father."

"Merci," Remy said with a bow and looked at the cabin. It was tiny but he had figured by now it was as false an image as the human boy in front of him. He nodded to the others. "Dis way."