(Three)
Remy sat on the floor of the widow's peak, his eyes growing drowsy from the midafternoon sun. It was growing warmer now, it was now May and Spring was in full bloom. Kimble was up on the railing, his wings fanned out to gather sun, his precious Angel once more strapped to his chest. His arms were around her protectively, his voice drifting through the air as he softly sang to her some silly Siskan tune. He glanced over at Remy, smiling now that he could see the thief was fast on his way to a nice well deserved nap.
Kimble's journey back to the real world hadn't been easy. After he had been repaired, he spent the next three days in his cell, most of it sleeping in bed. He curled around whomever came to visit - Fallen, Seth, Molly — but frequently it was Remy or Angel he wanted most. He wanted to be held and protected, sheltered. He wanted their heat and the sound of their warm hearts beating to remind him of where he was.
Later, even when he was ready to move around a bit, he was reluctant to leave the safety of his tiny cell and had to be dragged outside to charge, cooperating only when his friends gathered as a group to collect him. He was petrified of being alone, fearful that the great big world around him would crash in on him and swallow him up. He was frightened by loud voices and bright lights, startling easily and finding the nearest place to scrunch up and hide.
By the fourth day he was better. He would move about, always with his Angel and never alone, but at least now he would go to the lab and spend time with Henry or come up to the widow's peak without having to be prodded or dragged. He blinked in the bright sun, still jumped at any loud noise and was a little wobbly on his feet. He seemed to be like Seth at this time, not quite sure of his place in the physical world and colliding into tables or doors that seemed to suddenly jump out in front of him from nowhere.
Another day or so of that and he settled down. The noises around him didn't startle him anymore and he was back to playing games on the computer again, happy to be in his cell. He still continued to sleep a lot, at least compared to Seth who required only two hours or so an evening. Kimble timed his naps with Angel, he didn't neglect his tiny charge.
He had smoothed out physically, but emotionally he wasn't back to normal just yet. He didn't speak in voices anymore but would have crying jags out of the blue or seem to laugh inappropriately at jokes no one seemed to have heard. The mood swings could be sudden and disruptive to those who didn't know him well. Those who did were quick to forgive him, satisfied that at least these little outbursts were always made in Kimble's own voice. He was simply watched and not left alone.
Once repaired, Kimble avoided crowds of X-men other than his chosen family. This house was full of X-men, many who came down to the lower levels to use the Danger Room and other facilities there. If he heard them coming, Kimble would fall silent and shrink back, hoping just to blend into the background and not cause any attention to come his way. He was especially nervous around the Professor, fearful he would do something stupid that might get him punished. Charles did his best to set him at ease, but it was clear Kimble still felt too much humiliation and shame to ever be comfortable around the great leader of this pack Kimble found himself in. He still didn't feel he could ever be worthy of belonging here.
Kimble had been mostly integrated by the Games Master. He didn't speak in voices, but sometimes their thoughts and personal expressions came out of his mouth, showing their thoughts and attitudes were still in his mind. They were a part of him now. He would sometimes cover up his head like Lin if he was afraid. He whined like a girl if he was feeling especially down and self critical — the Quitter's posture and self loathing. His voice would grow deeper if he grew angry, becoming more gravelly like Zander, but it was always Kimble's lucidity in his eyes. At least he wasn't violent even when pressured into doing something he didn't want to do and wasn't verbally hostile as 'Shay had been. He kept any bad thoughts and comments he might have had to himself, much to Karen's relief.
Eventually most of his strangeness passed and after a couple more weeks he settled down into something more like Aiden was — soft spoken and spooky quiet. He didn't play with anyone except Angel, but it was easy for Remy to get him to laugh. A few twisted, dirty jokes and Kimble was giggling along like his old self.
Kimble's family was kept small and mainly consisted of Henry, Fallen, Seth, Molly and Remy. And Angel of course. She was his primary focus and a focused Kimble was a good thing. He doted on her constantly, playing with her and singing her songs. He even began to play his guitar as a regular thing once Gambit thought to have it brought to his cell. Kimble loved her toys as much as she did and they played all day, his hands touching her always as he fed off of her bright healthy shine. She was his foundation, the thing keeping him rooted here in reality. No one questioned their strong bond, it was in front of them for all to see.
Kimble learned his sign language quickly, sped along by Molly's desire to be close to anyone Remy was so attached to. To keep the Siskan occupied, she asked him to teach her the guitar and Kimble was all to happy to grant her wish. They became fast friends, made all the more possible by the fact they could now properly communicate. Kimble was very much aware of her and just how much she meant to Gambit. He watched them interact and saw how Remy flirted with her. The vibrations between them were strong and Kimble could sense that it was just a matter of time before they were lovers. It was in the way Remy smiled at her, his red eyes glittering with amused arrogance. Gambit was around his Siskan often and she was right there with him, always hanging around. Kimble didn't mind, he loved them both.
As much as Gambit may have loved his Siskan and his Molly, there was some serious competition for his affection. He was absolutely smitten with Angel. He couldn't pass a toy store without buying her something and bringing it back to the house. He wanted to hold her as much as Kimble did and was often laying about with her draped over him, stroking the soft down on her fuzzy head. He would babble soft Cajun nonsense at her until she smiled at him and laughed. She was certain to speak like him more so than her quiet and spooky father.
Kimble remained in the lockup at night, but was allowed more freedom around the lower levels. He could travel to the Lucky Dragon at will and didn't need to be escorted all the time. He got supervised rights to the upper level, a kind of house arrest, but only used that privilege to go to the widow's peak for sunning himself or to borrow books from the library. He wasn't allowed to charge alone and since bringing Angel home, had two guards now on the peak at all times. No one was going to allow him to take off again without having something to say about it.
Angel's presence in Kimble's life was kept a secret from SHIELD. If the baby was around when someone from SHIELD came by, Kimble was merely babysitting. Kimble didn't like to lie but knew the stakes were too high. Zander's protection gears still whirled within, he would do anything to keep her safe. He didn't hear Zander's voice in his head anymore, but the Punisher's thoughts were sometimes his own. Protect. Defend. Be loyal to the family.
Right from the beginning, it was clear Angel was no ordinary child. She was bright and precocious, very easy going and even tempered for such a small child. She remained a normal looking baby, but developed rapidly and was above average in her learning skills. She rarely cried, it seemed to happen only when Kimble was upset as though she was very aware of his emotions. When he calmed, she would quiet immediately, another sign of their unusual bond. The Professor was justified in believing there was a powerful telepathic/empathic link between this Guardian and his infant Mistress. To separate them would be damaging to them both.
Kimble took his caring for her very seriously. He was conscientious and never unprepared. He surprised everyone by being there for her properly. He needed little assistance, if he didn't know anything he just looked it up and moved on to the next challenge. He learned quickly and seldom had to be told anything twice. If anything, he found himself giving gentle instructions to those who would come near to help with the tiny baby, not wanting any harm to come to her but not so selfish as to not let others hold her. He was protective, but not smothering. He liked to share his treasure with his family, especially Remy who had fallen in love with her so deeply.
Back on the widow's peak, a sleepy thief stirred. "What you t'inkin' dere, little brother?" Remy asked, his eyes not even open. He'd sensed his friend's loving vibrations wafting his way.
"Nuthin'. Just bein' happy yer out here with me," Kimble replied.
"You all charged up proper over dere? Don't t'ink dis po' boy's gonna last another minute."
"I'm ready. Let's go."