Logan had expected many things for Remy's return to the mansion, but with the scene unfolding in the main hallway of the mansion, he could have been forgiven for thinking nothing had happened at all in the last few months. Remy was striding down the corridor, Jean on one arm, Ororo on the other, laughing and joking and generally creating noise.

Standing off to one side to avoid the fracas, Logan watched them advance like a marching band. They proceeded with overemphasised footsteps, jostling and bumping as it became obvious that the hallway wasn't wide enough for all three of them beyond a certain point. With bright laughter as the women he was sandwiched between fought over which of them should continue, Remy escaped from both their arms and moved quickly - if a little hesitantly – to stand beside Logan, grasping his arm.

"Save me, Wolvie!" he mock-cried.

"Hell no. I'm not getting involved," Logan laughed in reply.

"Remy, we have to do upstairs yet!" Jean called from across the hall, held back by Ororo's hand on her wrist. Storm watched the men's interaction from a distance, a knowing grin gracing her features.

"They helping ya map the grounds?" Logan asked Remy, still grinning at the image of them
all parading down the hall.

"Yeah, suppos'dly," Remy replied with a raised eyebrow.

"Ya gonna need more help?"

"Not now, dey'll be offended." He grimaced. "Maybe later?" he appealed, a tone of voice that sounded odd without eye contact.

"Sure. Now go play nice with the girlies. I'll see you later." Remy stepped away with as much confidence as he could muster to rejoin the women.
-
-
Logan stepped out of the TV room, the barely-audible footsteps all he needed to recognise Remy on the stairs. The Cajun's pace was a little slower, perhaps more cautious than usual, but little else had changed. He still exuded cheery arrogance and self- confidence, and Logan wondered - not for the first time - how much of that was automatic, designed to mask any real emotion that might leak out of his empathic abilities. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and Remy quickly joined him. Stepping off the last step and then hesitating - as though he had been counting the steps to the ground and been distracted - Remy sighed, leaning back against the banister and grinning. "Hey."

"How'ya doin'?"

"I'm okay, I t'ink." He laughed shortly. "Bin a busy day. Din' help I spend all day marchin' 'round like 'm in a brass band."

Logan grinned. "So - if they were doin' it wrong, how do I do it right?"
-
-
Scott stood at the top of the stairs, watching as Remy walked purposefully around the mansion with Logan at his elbow marking points and pointing out obstacles. It was a process that he remembered despising from that time so long ago when it had been Hank guiding him and the mansion had been a huge frightening space, less like home than the streets he had walked before. The memory was almost physical in its intensity. He took a seat on the step at the top of the hall to watch and think. He knew what Remy was doing - touching every surface and edge not just to avoid walking into it, but to use it as a pointer to the next place. The space became a network of points, and straight lines joining each one. Touch this cabinet and walk parallel to it to reach this sofa or come through the door on the left and touch this sideboard and the sink was on your left, the hob on your right, another door on the far left back into the hall. Seeing them begin to work their way back around to the stairs, Scott pulled himself back together and headed off to bed, needing the presence of his wife to soothe away old fears.
-
-
Taking a seat in the empty rec. room to let himself absorb the information - knowing it would take a few mistakes before everything was fully settled in his mind. With a sigh, Remy leant into the warmth of Logan's presence beside him.

"T'ank y'."

Logan snorted. "Like I woulda let anyone else do it."

Remy chuckled. "It's… reassuring, doin' dis wit' y'. It's worse somehow, somewhere 'm s'pposed t' already know. Jus' remin's me how stupid I was."

"How's that?"

"Not learnin' th' floorplan when I firs' got here. Mon pere… he would be disgusted how lazy I was. Jus'… truly never t'ought I'd have t' use dose skills. Never bin in a situation dat I couldn' see 'xactly where everyt'in' was."

"Ya seem ta be doin' alright. Ya know I expected ya t' drift a bit, towards yer dominant foot."

"I grew up walkin' tightropes and slacklines 'cross rooftops in de middle o' th' night. Y' learn not t' drift." Remy laughed. "Lapin - dat's my cousin - he got hit by a bird once, when he was jus' learnin' - we still had safety lines den, t' catch us. We always tol' him he was jus' so good dat even th' birds didn' see him." Logan smiled.

"You've never told me… told any of us anything like that before. About when you were a kid." Remy tensed a little, but held his smile.

"An' it's not f' repeatin', neh? Less everyone knows 'bout de guild de better."

"But you'd tell me?"

"I trust y'. Am I right to?"
-
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-
He could do this with his eyes shut. Had done it with his eyes shut before now. But this was different. There was no peeking if things got tense. The mission planning had originally placed Xavier in position as communications hub between the two teams, but he had not returned from the meeting he'd been attending - putting his rescue as a possible second mission of the night if they heard nothing in the interim. Scott's fastidiously- planned mission had a place for every member of the two teams, and without Rogue and with Warren still under Hank's watchful eye there wasn't room for a whole lot of manoeuvring of personnel. On the spur of the moment Scott had asked Remy.

It had possibly been as much a shock to everyone else as to Remy, on his first night back in the mansion and his capabilities pretty much untested, but he had been quick to accept the request, taking only a moment to prove to Scott that he knew exactly where everything was in the control room and making sure they left before Scott could change his mind. But now, sitting here with a whole array of buttons in front of him and only his memory to rely on in finding them all, Remy was beginning to feel delayed panic setting in. Why had he accepted, what was he thinking? Every X-man's life was on the line every time they left the mansion. What had he been thinking?

He ran his fingers over the buttons and switches on the console in front of him, listing the names in his head and forcing down his doubts. Scott was leading one group and Storm the other, so the two most important switches were side by side on his right. The general open channel was on his left, a round button as opposed to the stick switches for the individual communicators. Activating the comm. systems and the tracking systems with a practice-easy gesture, Remy settled back to wait. There was a confirmatory beep as the Blackbird came online and began firing up.

"Comms. ready. Y' good t' go." he told Jean, who he knew would be sitting beside Scott at the Blackbird's comms. station. With the quiet "acknowledged" in reply, Remy switched on the Blackbird's internal microphones to listen to the ship take off. The room was filled with the quiet banter of his teammates, a testament to the ever-present nervousness before any mission. There would be no sign of it by the time they touched down.

.
"No leaving anyone behind on this mission, guys," Scott joked from the front.

"Not even Bobby?" came Warren's light-hearted reply.

"OK, maybe Bobby," Jean answered into Scott's exasperated silence.
-
-
The mission was simple. Three mutants were being held for an upcoming auction being held by a front company called Youki Global. The company had been using freelance bounty hunters to collect mutants and make profits selling them to anyone who would bid - be they slaver, scientist or psycho. They had been watching the compound where they knew the mutants were being held, but so far had had no luck pinning down the organisers, or any of the backing for the on-the-side criminal activity. Scott was loath to attack the company itself without any real evidence, but they had to get the captive mutants out before they were sold.

The compound looked like a miniaturised prison, with snipers and spotlights on every corner and one single intimidating building in the centre. There was a signal-dampening field over the entire area, but the communications equipment at the mansion was strong enough to cut through it. This meant that any communication between the X-Men would have to be either verbal or relayed via the mansion's main communications system instead of through the Blackbird's systems on the ground. One team would be going in from the north - taking out the two spotlight towers on that side on their way in – and the other from the south. The south team - lead by Storm - would head for the roof of the building and clear any remaining resistance from there while the north team – led by Scott - would head into the building for the captives.

Remy found himself holding his breath as the two teams disembarked, quickly splitting off and spreading into the undergrowth or taking to the air. He'd run through the communicators while the team had been in the jet, checking each name off against the list in his memory and making sure everyone had a working comm. unit. With communications as they were they needed to make sure they could all contact the mansion as needed.

"Relay to Cyclops. Team 2 in place and awaiting go ahead." Storm's voice.

"From Storm, Team 2 in place," Remy quickly relayed across.

"To Storm. Move in."

"From Cyke, move in." The process was arduous, but it was a way around the complications of being completely out of contact with anyone else on the team at any point, something Scott was becoming quite phobic of with his X-Men dropping like flies.

Remy waited in the silence as the teams moved in. He would have no idea what was going on without opening a channel - something he couldn't do without distracting the X-Man in question.

He knew that Angel would be taking out the spotlights from above for his team, and Psylocke would be doing the same for hers as the others moved in to disarm the men guarding those towers. Jean and Bobby would take out the men guarding the roof, then Scott and Logan would take out the guards that stood between them and the main doors and they would enter the building. Jean, Warren and Storm would stay in the air, looking out for…

"To Gambit, confirm status of Angel." Storm's voice interrupted his train of thought.

"Angel, confirm status," Remy relayed, almost before he had gotten over the shock of hearing his codename for the first time in… why wasn't Wings responding?

"Nothing from Ange, Storm." he replied quickly, before switching channels back and trying again. "Angel, respond." He flicked all four team switches. "Blue team, someone confirm where Angel is."

"I don't see him," Jean replied quickly.

"I see him, he's down." Bobby's voice, breathless. Nothing for a moment and then; "We're out of sight, and safe. But… I really think we need Hank out here."

"Angel's down an' safe wit' Iceman, Storm. He's requested Hank."

"Get him out here," Storm confirmed quickly.

"Angel's down. Iceman's askin' f' Hank out dere," he told Scott and Hank simultaneously.

"Wait." Came the terse command from Scott and everything stopped as the channels closed, leaving Remy in silence once again. Remy's pulse was racing as he waited, and he almost jumped as Hank's voice cut in.

"Relay to Bobby. I'm on my way, I need a location." Remy quickly passed the information on to Bobby and the location back to Hank and seconds later, Scott's voice.

"Relay to Storm, hostages are safe, pull out as soon as we have confirmation that Angel can move."

"From Cyke, hostages are safe, pull out when Ange is ready."

"To Cyclops. We're pulling out now. Stay safe." Remy relayed the message and sat back with a sigh of relief.

"Gambit." Remy jumped up in his seat and took a minute to find Hank's switch, cursing himself.

"Beast," he replied.

"We're coming in hot with Warren. I need a code kit and a gurney in the hanger and things set up in the infirmary. Can you do it?"

"Oui." He confirmed. "Is everyone out of radio quiet?"

"Yes. We're on our way." Remy hit the open channel.

"Comms. on auto." He confirmed.

"Thanks Gambit," Jean confirmed, back on the communications console in the jet.
-
-
Remy hurried down the corridor, counting doors because he knew he wasn't going to have a minute to spare. He flicked all the lights on as he hit the infirmary, following the wall left around the infirmary until he reached the big blue alarm button on the wall. Beneath it was the box with the code kit inside. Lifting it awkwardly – the action taking away the use of his hands as guides, he moved across the room until he kicked a gurney and put the box down on it. Circling the bed he took off the brake and pushed it forward towards the door. There was a crash of something metallic falling and, swearing, he circled the bed again until he came up against a metal implements tray. Kicking it out of the way he changed tactic, going to the front of the bed and pulling it instead. It took him a minute to get the bulky bed properly lined up with the door and then through it into the corridor outside so that it would be ready to run to the hanger once the lab was set up.

There was a basic kit and a simple stretcher in the hanger prepared for emergencies, but when Hank had someone back at the mansion to do the running around, he liked to have the gurney there waiting for him. It meant he didn't have to move the patient around so much, and the hallways were more than wide enough to accommodate the gurney.

He hesitated when it came to pulling out dressing and implements trays, wracking his brain to try and remember the shape and size of the two Hank always wanted out when he was coming back in with a code. One had a green label, the other a blue. The red, yellow and black were for other things, but none of that helped him right now. In the end he pulled out one of each of the stacks, knowing that even having them on the bench with the others would be easier for Hank than having to pull them out of the cupboard himself. Flicking on the last two lights and the oxygen pump, Remy grabbed hold of the gurney and ran towards the hanger.

He hesitated outside the door to the huge bay where the Blackbird usually resided, realising it had been a long time since he'd been down here, and last time there had been bits of the other Bird all over the floor. He stepped just inside the doorway tentatively and pulled the trolley in. When the Blackbird arrived he'd worry about getting to Hank, until then he was sticking with the safe option.

He didn't have long to wait.
-
-
Remy sat on the bottom step of the grand staircase, waiting for news. The whirlwind that was an injured teammate had passed him at speed and he had moved out of the way, knowing there wasn't anything more he could do to help and he was just going to get in the way if he didn't move. He looked up as the lift started to hum, and its movement lit it brightly.

"He okay?" Remy asked Logan almost before the door to the lift was fully open.

Logan only sighed in reply, wandering over to sit beside Remy on the bottom step.

"Not really. Hank's worried."

"What happened?"

"He had another heart attack," Logan answered. "He's probably not gonna be back on the team after this, even if he pulls through. His body can't handle it anymore." Remy fell quiet.

"Shit."

"Yeah."