Summary: Gambit learns more about Aiden's past and about some of his own past as well. Part ten of the Game.

Rated M for profanity, violence and some sexual content.

Disclaimer : I do not own the X-men or any of their associated villains, but the Siskans, the Dognan, Jael and the Outkasts are mine. Please do not use them without my permission. Thanks. :)

Updated 10-28-13 to add (break)s as needed and junk.

(One)

"So why are you telling me these things, Dreamer? I don't like this story," you say. "Why does David have to die?"

I would dearly love the answer to that last question myself, but it's one that has so far eluded me. Many times I saw David die in my visions and just as many times I tried to come up with some sort of plan to save him. No matter what I tried, no matter how clever my plans, they all failed, each and every one. Every vision ended the same way - I was always struck down and "corrected."

It began to sink in that I was not meant to save him after all.

That's the hardest thing to live with. I was being shown something that would most certainly happen, something more horrible than I could possibly imagine, and yet at the same time was being told not to act. To just let it go. I can assure you I didn't take it well. I am stubborn, I am vocal with my pain. I became sullen and angry, so much so that even Babette struggled to tolerate my bizarre behavior.

What was I to do? I couldn't tell Babette what was to happen. I was shown that informing her of this impending disaster was to lead to something far worse - the destruction of this world. The needs of the many would just have to take precedence over my own and that of my sister.

This is not the first time this has happened to me, me being forced to accept a path that rubs against every grain of my being. Even now, I still feel that I betrayed my precious David, my sister, and my former Master. Nothing I can do will ever make up for my failing. It's a mistake I do not wish to repeat and I fear what I may become if I am ever forced to have to choose again. Would I sacrifice the lives of all others just to protect the one I love most? Would I doom a world in order to heed my own heart?

I hope I never have to find out, but I have a feeling that very soon, this same thing will be asked of me. I cannot be certain of how I will respond.

(break)

Remy sat at his kitchen table looking over at his Siskan in a mixture of dismay and anger. Kimble was being a pain in the ass.

The pilot was slumped in a chair across from him, poking a lump of food from his child's size portion around on his plate. It had become a new ritual for Kimble to come over for dinner here during his evening furlough. The plan had been to use this time as father and daughter time, but Kimble wasn't exactly cooperating. Remy knew the reason - Kimble was convinced that Angel no longer belonged to him and once that idea had taken root, it was impossible to dig it out.

Well, Angel hadn't exactly helped. It was an unintentional thing she had done, but she was only a child and not really to blame.

It had happened on Monday, two days after Aiden's arrest. The Dreamer was languishing in a cell and Kimble was still being held in the Lab. Not much had changed, but Remy had gotten Kimble a little more motivated and had pushed the Siskan to go down to the school during his morning furlough. Kimble had gone and Gambit had tailed him, sight unseen, keeping watch. Kimble's recent slump had made him more cautious, he was keeping a close eye on the Siskan, watching for breakage.

Kimble made it down to the school, warm from a half hour's sun, and feeling a little better. He paused outside of Angel's classroom, he was here a bit early and it would be a few minutes before she changed classes. He wasn't going to keep her long, he just wanted to see her and say hello. As he waited, Kimble caught sight of some pictures made by the children hanging on a billboard next to the door. He pawed at them, seeking his child's and finding it. The subject of these pictures was family and he could see sketches made of loving families - the mommies, the daddies and the kids. Angel had drawn hers, a little scrappy Gambit was there and the blonde headed Molly and a tiny Angel child.

Kimble frowned slightly, a bright hot shot of pain blacking his shine. Angel had not drawn him in.

Remy saw the spike of black in Kimble's shine but didn't know the reason. These pictures were new and he hadn't seen the one she had made. He took one step forward, giving up stealth over a strong need to know what had upset Kimble so, but the pilot had already started moving, taking long strides away towards the elevator. At that moment, the bell rang and the classroom door opened, pouring out a stream of tiny persons that created a barrier between Remy and his target.

Remy cursed under his breath and then collided into Angel herself. She shrieked a happy greeting and clung to him, weighing him down. "Uncle Remy! What are you doing here?" she squeaked happily before stopping suddenly in surprise, her head whipping around in the direction Kimble had gone. Her overly perceptive mind had sensed his nearby presence. "Daddy?"

" 'E was waitin' on you," Remy stammered lamely. A bright flash of white was all he could see, disappearing as the elevator doors closed. Kimble was gone. "Guess 'e 'ad somewhere else to be."

"Did he see my picture?" she asked pointing up to it. Remy's eyes tracked her hand, hearing her as she spoke, "It's not finished. They took it before I could put him in, but the teacher said I could finish the rest of it after lunch. Isn't it good?"

Remy nodded, but cringed inwardly. He could see why Kimble might be upset. "Oui, chere. It real nice," he replied, his voice betraying nothing.

Angel seemed to sense it all the same. Her voice was pained as she asked, "Can daddy come over tonight?"

"What? You mean fo' supper? Don't see why not. I'll ask 'im."

"It would be nice if he could come every night. He's not happy where he is now. He's never happy anymore. Why can't he come home?"

Remy sighed, finding these questions harder and harder to answer. It would be too easy to lay all the blame at Wolverine's feet. These two had not yet made peace. Angel was civil enough, but she was so cold, so very cold. It was straining Angel's friendship with his daughter Jessie and so far all attempts to get Angel to forgive had failed. It wasn't fair, Logan was not to blame for Kimble's troubles though he was making things harder. No one was in a rush to give Kimble any new freedoms, it simply hadn't been long enough.

Kimble had graduated from his crying jags but refused to liberate himself from the holding cell. He had moved in his blankets and some of Henry's books, making it clear he wasn't going to move out anytime soon. Kimble was bored from his isolation and growing more and more sedate. He used to plow through a book or two a day when he had been in holding before. The first book he had started was the one that was now still only half read and ignored on the tumble of blankets. The pilot wasn't really reading, he was going through motions so he wouldn't be pestered. Remy knew the game well enough by now to recognize it on sight.

Of course it was better than Kimble in the corner bawling, or that's what he kept telling himself.

It was the increase in Kimble's consumption of soda that was another sign all was not well. Kimble loved Coke, he always had. From the first sip he had taken of that shockingly sweet liquid nectar of the gods, Kimble had been hooked. Problem was, that much sugar had a tendency to sedate the Siskan, it was the main component of Henry's tonics. Henry had a soda machine in the Lab and Kimble had free access to it, something Beast hadn't thought anything of. Kimble was there, drinking three or more a day with no one commenting on it. The fact that Kimble was drinking so much of it now had only one explanation. Kimble was sedating himself. He would drink and read and then sleep, napping longer and longer each day. No one was fighting it, there was only so much for the Siskan to do in the Lab and quite frankly, Henry was much too busy to babysit the pilot. Kimble was on his own, basically being ignored so long as he behaved.

Yeah, Kimble was behaving all right. Like the right proper zombie he was becoming.

Maybe Angel was on to something here, Gambit reasoned suddenly. Angel's visits had been mostly handled by him bringing her down to see Kimble. Perhaps it was time to get Kimble out of the Lab and back into the family setting. "Kim jus' got 'is furloughs back. Maybe we can see if daddy can come eat wit us every night," he found himself replying, seeing Angel's face light up magically at the suggestion. "T'ink mebbe 'e need to see more of you an' not down in de Lab."

"I like that idea," she answered, giving him another squeeze.

Gambit had smiled then, happy that a solution had presented itself. So sure he had been that a little quality time would help things. It was a false hope.

For three days now Kimble had been coming and the pilot sat in his chair coldly going through the motions with Remy's food just as he had with Henry's books. Kimble's initial response to Remy's invitation should have been a clue that something wasn't quite right, the Siskan had merely shrugged and nodded his assent. Remy had wanted to try and explain Angel's picture, but hadn't wanted Kimble to know he was being followed, he didn't want Kimble to feel stalked. It was bad enough the guards trailed him everywhere.

Gambit had hoped Angel herself might explain away what had happened and she did, presenting Kimble with the finished drawing later that night, but it was obvious that it was too little, too late. Kimble smiled his poor liar's smile at her and told her what a nice picture it was indeed. When she suggested he keep it, he nodded at her politely but then left it behind when it was time to go. Remy didn't think it had been an accident. Kimble hadn't wanted that hurtful reminder of his removal anywhere near him.

Gambit was furious, at his wits end. After Kimble had gone, Angel had come to him crying, "Doesn't daddy love me anymore?"

Now what was he supposed to do with that? He wasn't a trained psychologist and Kimble just kept this stupid crap up. " 'E love you, petite. 'E jus' 'avin' too much trouble right now."

Of course he knew the real truth of it. In his own eyes Kimble had lost and was never going to win. Angel was gone and so he was letting her go, a little more each day. First Aiden, now Angel as well. Kimble was letting them all go. He would keep going too until there was nothing left unless it was somehow stopped. Gambit simply had no idea what to do. Fed up and more than a little angry, he decided to play one last card. This, the fourth night at supper, he tossed Kimble a curveball, just to see if Kimble was still willing to play.

"Aiden's been released."

Kimble continued to push food in a circle. "Released from where?"

"From Security."

Kimble frowned, looking up from his plate for the first time since he had been served. "Why wuz he there?"

"Cause 'e was arrested." Remy wanted to add, 'dumbass', to the end of that, but held his tongue. "You didn't know?"

Kimble's look sharpened. "I don' gits out much. How wuz I supposta know?"

"Anyone not livin' under a rock knows it, cher."

Angel made a soft noise. She was sitting next to the man who used to be her father, her tiny heart aching for some closeness from him, any contact at all. It had been so long since he had reached out to touch her. This conversation was too tense for her liking, it was too much like a fight.

Molly's hand settled over Angel's shoulder, silently soothing. She was washing dishes and standing nearby, close enough to hear Angel's whimper. Molly was aware of what Remy was doing, she had been painfully aware of his simmering anger and had been dealing with it for far longer than she would have liked. Now she was just waiting to see it played out.

" 'E was upset 'bout sumptin' an' takin' it out on everybody," Remy went on, answering the question Kimble should have asked but hadn't. His voice dripped with arrogant sarcasm as he qualified his remark by adding, "Been upset a few days now. Can't imagine what it could be."

Kimble grumbled something inaudible and nasty and went back to pushing food.

"De little cuss hit me."

Kimble froze and looked up again. Yeah, he had seen the big black eye Remy had sported, but never asked about it, figuring it was an X-man thing, something that had happened elsewhere. Now he had just been told otherwise. "Why he done that?"

"Why don' you go ask 'im?"

Kimble shivered in his chair, his shine swirling mixed emotions. Anger at the biting reply, fear for getting involved, but mostly an overwhelming sense of guilt that this was somehow his fault. It was one thing for Aiden to mistreat him, he knew he deserved it, but Kimble didn't like the thought of the Dreamer's frustration boiling over to hurt someone else.

"I'll go talks with him," Kimble replied softly, his eyes dropping down submissively.

Oh, it was ever so hard to control the smile that wanted to spread over Remy's face. Kimble was too easy. The guilt was there like a tree bearing fruit, blooming there for Gambit's perceptive eyes to see. The master manipulator wins again, score one for the Cajun.

"When?"

"I'll goes tonight. When we's done eatin'."

"Bien," Remy said and went back to his food, winking at Molly when her eyes met his own, a congratulatory sparkle there. "See dat you do."

(break)

Kimble shuffled nervously down the hall, a little uncertain. As promised, he was on his way to Aiden's, having finished supper at Remy's only a few minutes ago. He had never been to Aiden's apartment and wasn't sure where he was going. Kimble checked the numbers on the doors and made his way uncertainly. He glanced at a paper in his hand - Remy had written down Aiden's address on it and he was going the right way. As if in confirmation, Kimble saw the guard in front of Aiden's door, the Dreamer had been put under house arrest until Logan was done with his investigation. Kimble hesitated, nervous in front of these people who always seemed to judge him so harshly.

Aiden wasn't the only one with a guard, Kimble had his own man as well. Jerry, his personal shadow, was trailing behind him even now. When Jerry saw where Kimble was headed, he moved ahead to whisper with John, the man at Aiden's door. They conspired together silently, acting as though Kimble wasn't even there, as if he were beneath their notice. John reached for his cell phone, dialing Logan's number.

Kimble muttered and kept going on his way. He wasn't going to be bullied, not by Logan or by any of his Security thugs. He needed to do this and wouldn't be deterred. His soul was suffering, he was bleeding in places he never knew he could hurt. He had learned of Aiden's arrest from Gambit and saw the damage done to Remy's face. He wasn't told about Aiden's dreams, only that Aiden was hurting because Kimble had been so mean. This was all his fault. He felt guilty and wanted to explain why he had behaved with such cruelty, maybe he could get Aiden to understand. Forgiveness was out of the question, he had gone way too far, but maybe he could ease some of this pain inside, earn himself a little peace. He would speak to Aiden and flee, never to trouble the Dreamer again.

Kimble walked in front of the guards and waited to be stopped, but the man on the phone said nothing, at least not to him.

"Yeah, he's here, just like you said he would be. I'll let you know if they get out of hand." John hung up and gave Kimble a smug, arrogant smile.

Kimble took another nervous step to the side and knocked on the door.

Babette answered a moment later, looking at her visitor with stoned, half open eyes. "Yes?" she slurred and wobbled a bit on her feet. She was hammered on Aiden's whiskey and completely naked.

"Is Aiden home?" Kimble stammered lamely, shocked by the picture in front of him. Of all the greetings he could have expected, this wasn't one of them. His eyes were drawn to the large brown Mark draped over her beautiful breasts and the shimmer in her shine. He hadn't seen her naked before and was struck by how gorgeous she was. She had gotten off very recently, no doubt from Aiden since this was their place. What was this? Kimble didn't know Babette that well and she made him nervous now because he had no idea what to expect next.

"Yes. Home, he is," she replied. As she turned to let Kimble enter, Aiden came up swiftly behind her, as beautiful and naked as she was. He gave Kimble a nasty, cold little smile and abruptly slammed the door shut in his face.

Kimble staggered back into the hallway in surprise. He hadn't expected Aiden's rude response but supposed he probably deserved it. Oh, this was going to be bad. Groveling would surely be required. Adding to the humiliation, the guards snickered to themselves, enjoying the show.

Kimble dusted off, trying to regain his composure, and knocked on the door again.

Once more, Babette answered. "Doesn't want to see you, does he -" she started to say, but Kimble pushed past her impatiently. He entered the room, startled by what he saw.

The apartment was tiny, easily a mere third of the size he owned. His own place was small, but this was a matchbox, hardly worth keeping. It was actually meant as a temporary location for new people, but since the Siskans didn't have the same domestic requirements as humans, they had been marooned here as the Complex was filling up. It was all one room with a small kitchenette. A tiny bathroom was off on one side. It was sparsely furnished and not well kept. Dirty dishes were piled up in the sink and empty liquor bottles strewn about all over. A pile of Aiden's dirty work clothes lay rumpled in a corner.

Aiden had been drunk since he was released that morning and just didn't bother to have Babette pick up after him. They both drank his illegal whiskey and fooled about, giving up on this place and seeing the Complex now as nothing more than a prison. Aiden didn't care about the mess they had made, he just didn't see it anymore. The humans could pick it up if they were so offended. The man himself was not dressed. He sat sprawled on their tiny sofa, one foot up on the coffee table. The TV was on and he watched it mindlessly with an open whiskey bottle in his hand.

There was the scent of sex in the air but it was muted. It was more like Kimble could sense the echoes of the Kundatesh still clinging in the air. Babette and Aiden were Siskans as he was, the Marks made that clear. They had no real smell, but the evidence of their recent coupling was detectable by the one who just entered. Kimble felt a stab of jealousy he had no right to feel. It was he who had shoved Aiden away so cruelly after all.

"Aiden? Kin I talks ta ya?"

"By all meansz, babble away," Aiden sneered, not looking up from the television. His words were sharp, but the truth was, he was barely in control of his emotions. He was still a little angry, but was far more relieved that Kimble had finally sought him out.

It hadn't been a good past few days for the Dreamer. Logan had kept him in the Security holding cell for three days, long enough for most of his stored power to drain away. That had been the point of course. "You are possessed, not in control of anything. Your freedom here is an illusion."

Well, that was Aiden's take on it of course. It had certainly been humbling and infuriating. He hadn't been fed food or Ristle and was only allowed to drink water. He was given nothing he could sustain himself with. He felt it begin to happen on the third day, the heady drowsiness that didn't come from being overworked or drinking. This was true weakness, something he hated above all else. It was a reminder that he was not flesh and never would be. He slept more and more, slowing down as his body's stored energy drained away. When it finally came to where he couldn't even stand on his own, he lay on the bed and let the darkness take him.

He woke late on the fourth day, a brilliant sunrise bursting red over his eyes. He was being laid out on the tarmac, a soft blanket was twisted around him, one from his cell. The smell of leather and expensive cologne gave his rescuer away. " 'Ey, Remy," Aiden had rasped, his voice a dry croak.

"Bonjour, cher. Lay easy, don' try to move."

Yeah, like he even had the strength to do anything.

Remy had taken him from his cell in a wheelchair and was just now laying him down in the shade of one of the parked planes. The great shadow of that Blackbird was just enough to keep the heat off of him, there was enough sun for the power of it to seep into his famished body. A bottle of chilled water came to his lips and he drank greedily, grasping the bottle with both hands.

"Easy, easy. You'll be sick," Gambit cautioned, trying to be gentle. He started to spread Aiden's blanket out a bit, exposing more skin.

Aiden gasped and lay back, wiping his mouth. " 'Ow long?"

"What's dat, cher?"

" 'Ow long I been out?"

"It's Wednesday. You been in de cell for four days, de last one passed out. It's over now. You charge 'ere, den m' gonna bring you 'ome after," Remy replied, brushing loose strands of tangled blonde hair from Aiden's eyes. The touch was gentle and Aiden's shine sparkled a little more brightly at it, needing it.

"Where isz my Babette?"

"She still at de church. 'Crawler's gonna bring 'er by when you get 'ome. C'est bien, cher. No worries."

Aiden lay back and let the sun warm him. It wouldn't take long to recharge. He would be slow for a couple of days, but he would soon be back to his usual troublesome self. Speaking of which, "Keemble?"

"Still bein' a pain. You should go see 'im now you out."

Aiden shook his head in a passionless denial. "Keemble gotta come to me. Zere will be no od'er way."

"Why's dat, eh? Dis enough trouble."

"Becausze I have to know it isz what 'e wantsz, an' not szumptin' I pressured 'im into, undersztand? Dat 'e wasz not forzed to love me."

Remy's face softened with exasperated impatience. He understood Aiden's point of view, it was just that the Dreamer was being blind. "Anyone who can read a shine knows dat what 'e feels is real, cher. He wouldn't be hurtin' as much as 'e is if it wasn't. 'E love you wit everyt'ing 'e 'as inside. Go and see 'im f' y'self."

Aiden, stubborn creature that he was, simply shook his head and closed his eyes, repeating, "Keemble muszt come to me. Zere isz no od'er way."

Remy had nodded in his thoughtful, noncommital way, but Aiden had seen the soft smile there. The thief was scheming. Now it looked like whatever Remy had planned had worked. His precious Kimble was finally here, finally here to see him. It meant only one thing, Kimble still loved him, still needed something from him. He would take it. That didn't mean the Dreamer was going to make this easy, however, Kimble would have to make an effort to regain his trust.

Kimble walked over and shut the TV off. He crouched down in front of Aiden, demanding his attention. He was very nervous, Babette hung in the shadows like a ghost. "I heard ya had some trouble. Remy comes ta see me, said you wuz all mad at me. I wants ta 'pologize fer bein' so mean. I come here ta try an' explain why I been actin' the way I done."

Aiden was looking at him but said nothing. Kimble was close, but hadn't quite said what was needed, not just yet. The Dreamer was waiting.

Kimble continued, "You gots ta understand 'bout me. I seen so many people die cuz a me. One girl, her name wuz Gail. She – she...the last thing she ever said ta me wuz 'I loves ya, Kimble.' Next thing I knows, I gots her brains all over me. Some guy jus' blown 'er away ta gits ta me. She wuz just in the way. I made a promise then. It would never happen again. Never. I ain't always been so true...ya knows that guy Kristalay in the Med Bay...the one all broken up an' ripped? Jael done that ta him cuz a me. What am I 'spozeta do, Aiden, huh? The last thing I wants is yer blood, yer–yer insides all ripped out an bleedin' on me. I loves ya too much. I really, really do!" Kimble put his head down on Aiden's knees, shaking as he started to cry.

Aiden gave a resigned sigh and sat up, finally getting what he had wanted. He cupped Kimble's chin to make the pilot look up at him. The hand that did this was trembling as he gently spoke, "Aiden knowsz your pain, me. You t'ink Aiden free of all dat? Zat 'e never szee anyone die from 'isz touch, neh? Mebbe you didn' szpend all your time awake, but Aiden 'asz. He almosz' eighty year old, jusz' like you. What you t'ink 'appen in all dat time? Ze pain never end, dat'sz what Aiden learn. Aiden szpend a long time in miszery, never 'avin' not'ing. Not'ing as real asz it feel when you dere in 'isz armsz. Aiden never feel like dat b'fore. Disz mean szumptin', Keem. Jusz' don' know what, only dat Aiden very szcare."

"I'm so sorry," Kimble whimpered.

Aiden gave him a sad little smile. "Dat'sz all right. It'sz all right now, usz." He raised Kimble by his chin and kissed him.

Kimble's body shook from the contact, he was instantly on fire and aroused. Aiden's touch was like a trigger, causing emotional explosions all through him. This was no fluke, the way Aiden made him feel. It was intoxicating and warm like the plasma had been and just as addictive. It was consuming him and he cried out, trembling all over.

Aiden laughed softly, all of his earlier cruelty gone. "C'mon. Aiden needsz a bath," he said softly and rose, taking Kimble's hand to bring him along.

Kimble followed obediently, but saw Babette watching them. She had been quiet this whole time, looking at them with her doped out, glassy eyes. "What about her?" the pilot stammered awkwardly.

Aiden paused and touched her face. "We all done, Babette. You ze beszt. T'anksz."

"Yes, Master," she whispered demurely and smiled with a shiver. Her skin was gleaming in the dim lighting of the lamps and her shine was glowing. She would have eagerly served Aiden again at that moment, guest in the house or not. Kimble did not understand, he didn't think this was normal. As far as he knew, Siskans didn't serve one another, not like this.

"Zen get szome reszt, neh? Go szleep, preciousz," he said gently and kissed her, sending a vibration of love and caring. He didn't want her to be upset that Kimble was here.

"Yes, Master," she repeated, happy now. She rustled off into the dim, finding the rumpled and unmade bed. The vibrations from their coupling still clung over it like shadows. She crawled in and was instantly asleep.

"Let'sz go," Aiden said, tugging on Kimble and pulling him towards the bathroom. "Time for you an' me, neh? Come on, let'sz talk."