Having sent his four recovered friends off to secure a jet and a means of escape, Gambit went the opposite way along the corridor. He maintained his stealth until he heard the sounds of gunfire, and an alarmed cry over the radio earpiece.

"Code red!" yelled a voice, "we got escaped mutants! Repeat, we got-!"

The voice was cut off, and Gambit grinned to himself as he heard other voices yelling for reports. Time for some misinformation to muddy the waters... He pulled the radio from his pocket, and took a deep breath, opening the channel.

"Dere's two of 'em!" he shouted into it, "Dey're headin' for de roof!"

Hearing orders scrambling guards in the wrong direction, Gambit abandoned all attempts at stealth in favour of speed. He fled down near-identical corridors, taking out guards with and scientists alike with flung cards and strikes of his bo, until he found what he was looking for on the next level down; a guarded lab, housing Jean and Storm. He took out the guards and launched into the room; there was Sergeant Davies, Dr Kolton, and his assistant.

"A mutant!" the woman screamed, pointing at Gambit accusingly.

"Oui, chère," he agreed, holding up a glowing card, "now you gonna release my friends..."

"I think not," Kolton said, coldly, "Sergeant Davies, if you would be so kind..."

Kolton pressed a button on his remote, and on the bed, Storm let out a gasp as the collar inserted a needle into her neck. Davies shuddered, and then grinned, as his eyes turned white. The Sergeant extended his hands, and from nowhere, a breeze ruffled Gambit's hair.

"Oh, no..."

The breeze became a wind, which became a hurricane. Gambit braced against it, but his boots began to slide backwards on the metal floor. He dropped to a crouch, raising a hand to protect his eyes, but the wind whipped around him, and he lost his footing, as it picked him up and smashed him into the far wall. The hurricane dropped as quickly as it had started, sending Gambit crashing to the floor, face down. With a groan, he lifted himself up on his forearms. His eyes fell to his wrist watch, before he found himself looking up at the grinning Sergeant Davies.

"Dat..." Gambit panted, gathering himself, "is dat... de best... you can do?"

"I'm just getting warmed up," Davies grinned.

"Warm yo'self wit' dis!" Gambit yanked a card from his pocket and flung it.

It hit Davies square in the chest, the explosion sending him crashing backwards, sliding across the floor to end up in a crumpled heap against the far wall. Gambit hauled himself to his feet, feeling his head ringing from the impact with the wall. Kolton and his assistant both took a horrified step backwards as Gambit advanced, but he ignored them in favour of ripping the restraints off Storm and Jean, and tugging out their intravenous lines as quickly as he dared.

Gambit turned his attentions to Kolton at last, about to interrogate the doctor on his research, but his words died on his lips.

"Mon dieu..."

Davies was slowly pulling himself up off the floor; as Gambit watched, the burnt hole in his chest from the playing card knitted itself back together and healed over. He recalled then that Davies had temporarily absorbed Wolverine's healing abilities before the experiments with Rogue and Storm. He took a step backwards, holding up his hands as he mentally assessed his options.

Thirty minutes, he thought to himself, de effect last a maximum of thirty minutes...can I keep him busy for dat long? Mon dieu... like fightin' Storm an' Rogue an' de Carcajou all at de same time!

"I got some mutant powers coursing through my veins," Davies gloated, as he straightened up, turning on Gambit menacingly, "I'm gonna enjoy taking you to pieces!"

"We need him alive, Davies," Kolton said, sharply, "he seems to have the ability to charge objects with some form of kinetic energy; this could be extremely useful to us."

"So ya want him alive, doc," Davies leered, "don't necessarily need all of his limbs though, do he?"

"Sure I do!" he shot back, "how else Gambit gonna do dis?"

He threw another card, but Davies swatted it out of the sky, and it exploded harmlessly against the far wall. With a roar, he launched himself across the room, fist outstretched as he flew with Rogue's powers and strength at his opponent. Gambit did a quick back-flip to evade him, but the enraged and overpowered Sergeant picked up an empty gurney and threw it at him. Gambit leapt aside, using his bo to vault away, spinning around and landing Davies a cracking blow across the side of his face as the man flew at him again. Super strong and equipped with healing powers, Davies laughed off the bo strike, grabbed the staff, and spun, flinging Gambit hard into another wall. Momentarily stunned, he slid to the floor, as Kolton grabbed his assistant's arm.

"Come, my dear," he told her, "we shall retreat to safer ground and leave Sergeant Davies to deal with this... remember, Sergeant, I want him alive!"

The two of them fled the room, as Gambit pushed himself off the floor again, his head ringing with the effort, as he raised his eyes to look at Davies, desperately trying to buy himself some time.

"So," he said, at length, "yo' got Rogue's strength and flight, Storm's weather powers, and Wolverine's healing powers. What else ya got?"

"Don't need anything else to tear you apart, pal," Davies laughed, his eyes blazing with his new-found strengths, "they were just about to give me the girl's telekinesis when you interrupted – for that, you're gonna pay..."

A bolt of lightning shot towards him and Gambit barely managed to twist out of the way. He sent a barrage of playing cards flying through the air, but only succeeded in knocking his opponent backwards for a few moments. The room suddenly began to fill with fog, and Gambit cursed, dropping down low. He could not see Davies, but that also meant that Davies could not see him. He listened, carefully; there was a swish of air nearby, and he ducked and rolled instinctively, coming up onto his knees with the bo held defensively in front of him. Another swish as the airborne Davies whipped past him and Gambit evaded again, swinging the bo, yet hitting nothing but air. The third attack, however, caught him completely by surprise.

Davies flew out of the fog and seized the collar of his coat, picked him up, and simply flung him, head first, into the wall. Gambit felt the plaster crack and shatter under the impact, as the pain and shock of it slammed through his head and neck. He collapsed to the floor, pain and nausea rolling over him in waves as he fought to remain conscious. He could feel blood running down the side of his face from a deep cut to his temple and he cradled his face in one hand, groaning aloud. He felt Davies wrap a hand around his throat, lifting him off the floor as if he weighed nothing, as limp as a rag doll in the enhanced Sergeant's grip. They floated above the floor as Davies held Gambit at arms' length, the Cajun gasping, choking, clawing helplessly at the super-strong hand that gripped his neck. Davies pulled him in closer as the fog slowly dissipated from the room, until Gambit could feel the Sergeant's hot breath on his face.

"I'd be breaking orders if I killed you, mutant," he spat, "but they didn't say I couldn't hurt you..."

A fist impacted with his left side and, but for the choke-hold around his throat, Gambit would have cried out in agony as white-hot pain slashed through his chest.

"I just broke two of your ribs," Davies laughed, "how about I break both your legs for good measure? Make sure you can't run away, you mutant freak..."

A meaty fist closed around his thigh, and Gambit tried to squirm away, but his vision was greying at the edges, choking, deprived of oxygen by the hand around his throat. His eyes started to roll as he fumbled a card from his pocket.

At this range, this was really going to hurt...

Putain, he thought.

He ignited the card.

The effect was instantaneous. The card exploded, throwing Gambit backwards in one direction and Davies in the other. With an enraged shout, Davies launched himself back up as bruises and burned miraculously healed themselves. He snarled as he approached the mutant in the brown coat, slumped face down on the tiled floor, but was stopped by a voice in his earpiece.

"Sergeant Davies! We have escaped mutants on the ground floor and they are heading for the main entrance – report here immediately to assist in their recapture!"

He growled in annoyance, looking down at the unconscious mutant.

"I'll be right back," he growled at his incapacitated opponent, and took off at a sprint.

On the floor, Gambit, burned, bruised and beaten, simply lay with his eyes closed, completely unresponsive.


"Gambit!"

The voice was calling to him in the darkness, high-pitched and insistent, as if it had been calling to him for some time. He was only barely aware of the voice as the pain crashed over him in waves, through his head, throat and chest, searing and unceasing.

"Gambit, can you hear me? Please, wake up!"

"He appears to be seriously injured, Jean," said another, deeper timbre, "I do not know what has occurred here, but I am deeply concerned."

"Me too, Storm, but without your powers you can't carry him, and to be honest I don't know if we should risk moving him. We still don't know where Scott and the others are... hang on... oh... thank God... I think he's waking up... Gambit?"

He merely groaned in sick dismay as the full force of his injuries became apparent. His head was spinning, along with the rest of the room; his throat felt like it had been crushed in a vice, his broken ribs and burned sternum screamed agony throughout his chest and as he coughed, wetly, he wondered if deeper damage had been done to his battered body. He tasted blood in his mouth and turned his head to one side, coughing, spitting red onto the white-tiled floor.

"Oh, this is not good," Jean's voice was filled with dread, "Gambit, don't move, okay?"

"N... not an... o... option, chère," he stuttered out, gasping, as he tried to shift beneath her hands, "we gotta get outta here... de ot'ers... dey need us..."

"I don't think it's safe for you to... Gambit!"

He ignored her shocked cry, gritting his teeth, and forcing himself to his knees. Storm and Jean were kneeling beside him, wearing matching expressions of horror and concern. He coughed again, one hand going to his chest as he choked, hacking, spitting blood onto the already-stained floor. He wheezed horribly, trying to blink his eyes into focus as he took in the pale, shocked faces of his teammates. Storm was holding his bo, and he held out his hand, palm up, a silent request. He didn't have the breath to speak. She handed it to him and he planted the end of it on the floor with a thunk, using it like a crutch to haul himself to his feet. He swayed, dangerously close to falling, his vision blurring and greying at the edges. He wrapped one hand around his broken ribs, screwing his eyes shut as he groaned in agony. Jean and Storm were either side of him, supporting him, but he straightened up and waved them off.

"Come on," he told them, through gritted teeth, "dis way. We gettin' outta here..."

Using the bo to support himself, he limped out of the room, leading them down the corridor and towards the staircase. The base was in bedlam – unconscious guards littered the hallways, no doubt victim to the others' escape. Even without their powers, they were a force to be reckoned with. The few straggling guards that came after them fell to Gambit's deadly accurate charged playing cards, even though his hand shook terribly as he threw them. After several minutes, he led Storm and Jean out through the main doors, only to freeze to the spot. Cyclops, Wolverine, Rogue and Beast were clearly holed up in one of the hangers, laying down covering fire, but their efforts were in vain as Sergeant Davies strode towards them, his eyes glowing white as he began to summon up a tempest to strike them down.

"My powers!" Storm gasped aloud, shocked.

"T'irty minutes," Gambit mumbled, looking at his watch, "huh... not long now. Gotta keep 'im busy..."

"Gambit, no!" Jean did not need her psychic powers to see what the Cajun was planning, "Please, Gambit... you're in no fit state..."

He gently patted the hand she placed on his arm, and then shook off her grip.

"Listen," he told them both, "get to de ot'ers. Gambit will distract dis idiot, you need to run. Get to a jet an' get outta here, you hear me?"

"But we can help you..." protested Storm.

"Not wit'out yo' powers, chère... help Gambit by gettin' yo'selves to safety," he told them, firmly, "Gambit still got 'is powers, so he use dem to get 'is friends safe. Make dat happen... please?"

Storm hesitated and then nodded, silently, taking Jean's arm as the two of them prepared to run. Gambit straightened himself up, walking forward, tapping the bo on the ground as he went, leaning into it as he clenched his teeth.

"Hey," he tried to sound commanding, but only just succeeded in rasping out his words past his tortured throat, "Davies... we ain't finished, mon amis."

"You?" Davies spun around mid-flight, in shock, the whiteness dropping from his eyes and the lightning fading away, as he stared down at Gambit, eyes wide, "How?! I left you beaten... you were defeated!"

"It'll take a lot more dan dat to keep Gambit down," Gambit smirked, his voice hoarse but his eyes bright as he tried to keep the pain out of his tone; every step he took sent fresh spikes of pain lancing through his head and torso, his vision greying at the edges; he leaned heavily on his bo, as he repeated; "we ain't finished."

"Then I'm gonna put you down again," Davies spread his arms, lightning crackling around his fingertips, "and this time... you won't get back up."

At this point, Gambit was pretty sure he could trip over his own feet and not get back up, but he had no wish to let Davies see how weak and broken he really was. So, he made an effort to lift the bo, twirling it in his hands as he sauntered forward, deliberately trying to appear relaxed, confident and sure-footed, even as his head swam and his torso blazed with agony, his legs threatening to fold underneath him at any moment.

"You all talk, mon amis," he growled, as he drew a playing card from his coat, lighting it with a flare, "you still wanna play wit' Gambit? Here – take a card!"

He flung it with unerring accuracy, and the explosion knocked Davies out of the sky. He fell to the ground, clutching his chest.

"Screw my orders," he snarled, shuddering as he tried to stand, "I'm gonna rip you apart!"

"Tu m'emmerdes," Gambit sneered, dismissively, then translated; "yo' pissin' me off, Davies."

Davies staggered to his feet, still clutching his chest. He stared at the blood and burns in surprise, as Gambit planted the end of his bo on the ground, leaning against it heavily as he cocked his head to one side.

"What's de matter, mon amis?" he asked, his hoarse voice dripping with sarcasm, "Dat healin' power not workin' so well now, den? Been too long since you stole Wolverine's powers, non?"

"Kolton!" bellowed Davies, furiously, "Kolton, give me back the healing powers again, now, God damn it!"

However, the doctor was nowhere to be seen; the scientists were already evacuating the base, piling into waiting jets as the soldiers abandoned their posts to fly them away to safety. Gambit saw Jean and Storm running for cover towards their companions as the other four X-Men continue to send out weapons fire from their shelter, exchanging shots with the few remaining guards, who were still trying to recapture their prisoners. Davies snarled a vicious curse, lifting himself back into the air.

"I can finish you off with the powers I still got," he spat, curling his hands into fists, "I'm gonna enjoy ripping you limb from limb with this super strength, mutant."

Gambit cast a subtle glace at his watch as he twirled the bo again.

"Go ahead," he replied, with a sneer, goading the furious Sergeant, "it'll take a lot more dan you got to keep Gambit down."

Davies screamed his rage as he flew towards the smirking Cajun; Gambit used his bo to perform a somersault, narrowly evading the berserk attack. Landing, however, sent a rocket of pain through his torso and almost sent him crashing to his knees. He hid his faltering by whipping out a card and flinging it at Davies, knocking him back. Another dive came at him; this time, Gambit used the bo smack Davies across the face, sending him spinning upwards. Davies righted himself in mid-air, and, with a snarl, he dropped down, picking up a nearby jeep, hurling it down at Gambit. The Cajun leapt back, using the bo to launch himself upwards into a back-flip, but this time, could not stop himself collapsing to his knees as his legs gave out, wrapping his right arm around his broken ribs as he bit back a yell of pain, the bo still clutched in his left hand.

"Gambit!" he heard Storm cry out, "look out!"

"Run, chère!" he yelled back at her, desperately, "while you still can – get outta here!"

He managed the raise his head, to see Davies floating high above him, another jeep raised above his head, murderous rage written across his features. Gambit looked up, and, of all things, he grinned at his tormentor.

"Ohhhh... dat looks heavy, mon amis," he croaked, putting as much strength into his voice as he could, "Gambit can see yo' arms shakin'... maybe you need a rest, non? Maybe need Gambit to go easy on ya..."

"Wh...what...? No!" Davies tumbled from the sky, dropping the jeep, as Rogue's stolen powers finally wore off.

Gambit risked another glance at his watch. He had at least seven full minutes until Storm's powers expired. He wasn't sure he could last that long. He only had one, final, desperate ace up his sleeve... which depended very much on Davies wanting to finish him off by hand, rather than with a bolt of lightning.

There was a rumble of thunder, and Davies rose up into the air from behind the discarded jeep, eyes white and face contorted in rage. Gambit knew the emotional control that Storm had to exercise to keep her powers from running amok; Davies had no such discipline. The wind lashed around the combatants to hurricane fury as lightning split the sky. The trees were whipped into a frenzy, as the rain began to pelt down, soaking through him instantly, and he tried to pull himself to his feet in the face of the maelstrom. Davies floated down towards him, eyes alight, as his hands seized Gambit's coat lapels, lifting him clean off the floor and up into the air with him, ascending rapidly, high above the island.

"Now you die, mutant scum..." hissed the enraged soldier.

"I t'ink not," Gambit smirked, victoriously, blinking rapidly in his fight to stay conscious, as the wind and rain buffeted him mercilessly, dangling helplessly in Davies' grip, "you forgot one very important power, mon amis..."

Gambit raised his hands, gripping the collar around Davies' neck, just as the soldier was gripping the lapels of the Cajun's coat. Locked together in their mutual grip on each other, Gambit leaned forward, red eyes bright as he hissed out one word:

"Mine."

Under his touch, the collar lit up with a pinkish glow, as Gambit gritted his teeth, forcing as much energy into the collar as he could summon, and Davies' eyes widened in horrified realisation.

"No," he whispered, and then screamed; "No!"

The collar exploded, with devastating results. Davies' headless body went limp, and dropped like a stone out of the sky. Deprived of the support and with no means to break his fall, separated from Davies' body by the force of the explosion, Gambit fell too, plummeting towards the ground while allowing his body to go as lax as possible, what remained of his consciousness already threatening to desert him.

He did not see Beast launch himself out of his hiding place; although his mutant strength was repressed, Hank McCoy was still a formidable athlete in peak physical condition, as he bounded across the ground and leapt into the air, snatching Gambit from his fall with unerring precision, tucking him close to his broad chest as he landed deftly on the ground, executing a perfect shoulder roll to absorb their momentum, ending up on his knees, with Gambit still clutched in his arms. The remaining soldiers and scientists had surrendered, cowed into submission by the final battle between Davies and Gambit. Wolverine was herding them into the outbuildings as temporary holding cells. Cyclops, Rogue, Jean and Storm all dashed over to Beast as he, with exaggerated care, cradled Gambit's broken body in his massive clawed paws, laying him down on the ground.

The black clouds overhead began to part, the rain easing off, as the sun began to rise over the horizon. Gambit's eyes flickered open, hazily. As he lay on the ground, the last of the rain washing some of the blood and grime from his face, he couldn't help but smile. He was done. It was over. He could finally rest, and his friends were safe.

"Shit!" he heard Cyclops exclaim, uncharacteristically, "I'll go get the Blackbird, I'll take one of these jets, I'll be as fast as I can..."

Gambit slowly raised his hands to examine them, and he grimaced; his palms and fingers were burned beyond recognition, raw and bloody and blistered from his hold on Davies' collar when it had exploded from the powerful charge he had sent through it with the last vestiges of his strength. He found himself wondering, with a strange kind of detachment, if he would ever be able to shuffle a deck of cards again. The pounding pain in his head, neck and chest told him he probably wouldn't live to find out. He let his hands fall limply to his sides, unable to hold them up any longer, too weak to even lift his head from the damp grass.

"Gambit?" said a worried voice, calling to him, as his vision began to darken around the edges.

"R... Rogue?" his split lips and ravaged throat could barely form the words, but he had to try, "you sh... shouldn't b...be here, ch...chère. G... Gambit t...told ya to...to... run..."

A gloved hand gently cradled his jaw as her other hand carded through his hair, a comforting gesture, despite the pounding in his head behind his eyes, and the wheezing rattle he could feel in his chest. He wanted to reach for her face but with his hands so scorched and burned, tight and numb and unable to move, he could not touch her. He felt her arms wrap around him as she tried to lift him, forgetting she lacked her mutant strength. He could not prevent the yelp of pain that passed his lips as the movement speared agony through his torso, and she settled for cradling him in her arms. He did not mind, savouring her embrace even as his broken body screamed in protest at the slightest movement.

"Remy... oh, Remy... what happened to ya, darlin'?"

"L...long... s...story... chère..." he stuttered, his head lolling weakly against her chest as she held him close.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the effort was becoming too much, and he groaned, desperately wanting to stay awake in her comforting embrace, but he could feel the darkness crowding the edges of his mind, calling to him, promising to relieve him of the pain that wracked his battered body. He felt Rogue pull him closer, burying her face into his hair.

"It's okay, sugar," she mumbled into his ear, "I've gotcha... yer safe now... it's over..."

"Ohhhh..." he moaned, screwing his eyes up against the pain, "Gambit... no' feelin'... too g... good now, chère... s...so sorry..."

"Gambit, stay awake for me, sugar," her voice was pleading, desperate, and he wanted so badly to know why she was so upset, so that he could try and make it better, make whatever was bothering her rue the day... but what little strength he had left was rapidly waning. He could feel the pain threatening to overwhelm him, and the encroaching call of oblivion, promising to take him away from the crushing agony of his injuries. However, before he succumbed, he needed to know.

"Chère...?"

"Ah'm here, Remy, just hold on for me," she murmured, running her hand through his hair again, leaning over him and holding him close, trying to soothe his pained shudders, "Scott's taken a jet and gone to get the Blackbird, he'll be back in a jiffy, you just hang in there, ya hear me? We're gonna get ya home..."

"Chère... de team... ahhh... huh... are dey... s... safe?"

"Yeah, Remy, we're all safe, me an' Storm an' Beast an' Jean are here with ya, ya did it, honey, ya saved us," Rogue nodded, her features blurring and shifting as he desperately tried to focus on her beautiful face, "ya did it, ya crazy Cajun, though ah don't know how... Remy? Remy, stay awake, please! Stay with me!"

"S...s... sorry, ch...chère..."

"Remy, no, no, no, eyes open sugar, eyes on me, stay with me, please..."

"T'ink... dis is it, chère... G...Gambit... l... loves... you... ah..."

"Remy! No! Come on, honey, please, please, stay with me, don't leave me, not like this... not like this!"

He tried, he really did, but even as his lips struggled to form an apology for letting her down, his eyes rolled closed and he succumbed to the beckoning call of nothingness.