Through the night, Rogue and Wolverine took turns at sitting on the edge of the bed, maintaining a watchful vigil over the ailing Gambit. He flitted in and out of consciousness, sometimes lucid, sometimes mumbling nonsense as the fever raged. They gave him sips of water to drink, mopped his brow, spoke to him and tried to keep him calm, but his condition only seemed to deteriorate.
They changed the dressing again, wadding up their last clean bandage as a makeshift pad and securing it with the strips they had torn up and washed in boiling water, but the wound continued to leak blood and pus, marring the bindings far too quickly.
Rogue was taking a turn at watching over him while Wolverine dozed fitfully in the chair, the fire crackling softly in the hearth, their only source of light in the blackness of the night that enveloped their pitiful shelter. Outside, the night sky had clouded over, and a steady patter of rain beat at the tiny window over the bed, dripping in through the roof in several places, dampening the air within. Beneath her gentle touch, Gambit writhed and moaned weakly, his head rolling weakly from side to side, eyelids fluttering, revealing dimming red eyes that seemed eerily out of focus, lost in a fevered delirium. He was soaked with sweat, sometimes pushing away the blankets, sometimes shivering uncontrollably.
"Professor," he groaned, weakly, in a sudden moment of near lucidity, "Please... Professor..."
"Oh, honey..." Rogue breathed, a tear tracking down her face, one of many she had shed so far through the awful night, "ah don't think he can hear ya, sweetheart..."
"Professor... please... we need yo' help..."
He broke off, with an agonised gasp, as his eyes shot open, locking onto Rogue's for one split second.
"Remy?"
Beneath her hands, he suddenly arched his back, every muscle taut, straining against her; his eyes rolled upwards, and a convulsion tore through him as he jerked wildly, causing Rogue to leap back in horror.
"Remy!"
At her terrified scream, Logan snapped awake, bolting to his feet in an instant; he saw Gambit convulsing on the bed and swore, brutally snatching back the covers.
"What's happening?" Rogue cried out in horror, her voice several octaves higher than usual.
"His fever's too high," Wolverine snapped out, "he's havin' a seizure... dammit, Cajun, don't you do this to us now – help me, we're gonna have to cool 'im down, an' fast!"
He moved swiftly, quickly and carefully pulling Gambit's arms free of his signature trench coat, scooping the still-convulsing man up into his muscular arms and lifting him as if he were as light as a feather.
"Logan, no!" Rogue pleaded, grabbing his arm, realising what he intended to do, "Please, no, the shock could kill him!"
"An' if it doesn't, the fever will," Logan's snappish tone was just as desperate as hers, "open the door, Rogue."
She hesitated for a moment, glanced down at Gambit, convulsing in Logan's arms, and, with a strangled sob, wrenched the broken door open. Logan plunged out into the rain and darkness, Rogue hot on his heels. She dropped to her knees as Logan carefully lowered Gambit to the cold ground, and she scooped his head into her lap, pillowing him as his convulsions finally stilled, and he slumped against her, limp and unresponsive.
"Remy!"
She pressed her hand to his chest and her own heart froze as she held him there, until she felt the weak, soft thud of a heartbeat beneath her palm.
"He's alive!" she shouted, over the noise of the rain, "we should get him back inside!"
"Not yet!" Logan told her, shaking his head, "we still need to bring 'is fever down!"
Rogue leaned back, allowing the rain to mingle with the tears on her face as she gently stroked Gambit's forehead with her right hand, keeping the left one glued to his chest, feeling his heart fluttering beneath her fingers. Beneath her touch, he stirred, weakly, and she gasped, leaning forwards and bending over him, as Logan crouched down too leaning in closer.
"Mes amis..." he murmured, faintly, "why... why so... sad? De Professor... he send help soon, non?"
Wolverine gave a tiny shake of his head; "I don't think so, bub... not this time."
Rogue felt the last of her hope die in her chest, turning her head to one side and squeezing her eyes shut against the tears of grief and anger. She realised she was watching Gambit dying, slowly and painfully, and there was nothing she could do about it.
"C'mon, Gumbo, let's getcha back inside..."
Gambit, rain drenched and chilled to the bone, aching all over, found himself being lifted up and carried, though his surroundings were little more than a dark blur. He was deposited onto something soft, and realised, vaguely, he was back on the bed, though he had no recollection of leaving it. He was soaking wet and bare-chested, feeling hot and cold at the same time, too weak to even shiver. Aside from the numbness, the wound in his side remained a constant, twisting, burning agony, and he groaned in sick dismay as Wolverine began to cut away the bandages again.
Wordlessly, Rogue fetched more of their home-made, makeshift bandages, but almost dropped them when she caught sight of the hideous injury. Even by the light of the fire, she could see the angry red edges weeping pus, red tendrils snaking across Gambit's pallid skin away from the wound, across his stomach, around his back, up his side and down towards his hip. Mottled bruises, blue and black, littered his waist, midriff and chest, and Rogue's hand went to her mouth in dismay at his appearance; she could even hear his breath catching in his chest as he wheezed on each wavering inhale and exhale.
"Oh, Remy... no..." she murmured, horrified.
"Rogue," Logan's rough voice snapped her back into focus, and she gathered up the bandages, helping him to clean and re-dress the wound as best they could.
Gambit made little noise or protest as they bound his wound once more, though Rogue could not tell if he was more at peace or simply fading away from them faster with each passing moment. When they had finished, his eyes had already drifted closed, reclaimed by unconsciousness. Rogue drew a thin sheet up to his waist, tucked it around him, and stepped back. Logan caught her grief-stricken gaze, and then enfolded her in a tight embrace as she collapsed against him, sobbing helplessly.
