Bleeding Hearts

The Sequel to Weeping Willow

An X3 Fanfiction by Carrie

Chapter Nine

Willow's radio alarm clock chirped to life at 9:00am the next day. She groaned as she reached for it, but her legs were tangled up with Kurt's, not to mention his tail.

"Move over," she grunted, pushing his shoulder so that he'd roll away from her.

"Fünf weitere Minuten…," he muttered as he rolled over. Willow rolled her eyes as she reached over him and switched off the alarm. She started to get out of bed, but an arm caught her around the waist and pulled her back in.

"What happened to five more minutes?" she asked, colliding with Kurt's muscular torso.

"Vat I meant vas, five more minutes vis you," he quipped, opening one eye and grinning.

"I've gotta take a shower, you punk, my class starts in two hours and it takes forever to dry this damn hair of mine," she told him.

"You can be a little late," he said.

"Fine," she said, snuggling against his warm, bare chest. "But if I fall asleep and skip my class and Storm yells at me, I'm not gonna be in a good mood."

"You won't miss it," he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "I promise."


After almost a half an hour of dozing off, Willow looked lazily at the clock. Upon seeing it, she shot out of bed.

"Crap!" she cried, digging through her piles of clothes for a clean towel. Kurt simply rolled over and threw the blankets over his head. She gathered up a clean, mostly wrinkle-free outfit and ran into her tiny bathroom. "This is all your fault, Kurt," she said from the confines of her shower, more mad at herself than anything else.

"My fault?" he laughed in a raised voice as put his hands behind his head, resting on his palms. "It vas you zat lost track of time."

"Yeah, well…you're distracting!" she sputtered.

"Hey, I can't help zat I'm so lovable," he joked with a shrug.

"Oh, sure," he heard her grumble. "If Professor X knew I was back on my late-to-class streak again, he'd have something to say about it. I couldn't even make it to class on time when I was a student."

"Again, how is zat my fault?" he asked, feeling a pang of sadness as he thought back on the news that the Professor was gone.

"It isn't…," she muttered.

"Sorry, vat vas zat?" Kurt asked, grinning to himself.

"It isn't!" she repeated. Willow knew he was messing with her and, normally, she'd be one hundred percent ready to go along with it. But she'd gotten off on the wrong foot that morning and all she wanted to do was somehow get back on track. Not that waking up, limbs intertwined with the guy she loved was a bad thing, but that was another story…

Willow got out of the shower, dried herself off, threw on her clothes and wrestled a brush through her thick mat of wet hair. She poked her head out of the bathroom, a toothbrush dangling from her mouth, just in time to see Kurt put his shirt back on.

"Hey, what time is it?" she asked.

"10:05," he reported, zipping himself into his jeans that he'd discarded last night, leaving him in naught but his boxers.

"Oh man…," Willow moaned through a mouthful of toothpaste. She finished brushing her teeth and got to work blow drying her hair. Usually, it took around twenty minutes before it even looked dry. When most of the moisture had been taken care of, she flung her hair into a loose braid that she let flop over one shoulder. Quickly, she checked her appearance.

"You look fine, Liebchen," Kurt told her.

"I look like I haven't done laundry in two weeks," she said, examining the old black hoodie and grass-stained jeans with blown out knees that she had on.

"Have you done laundry in two veeks?" he asked.

"No…," she muttered, throwing everything aside, looking for her text book and lesson plan.

"Looking for these?" he asked, handing her the desired items that had been sitting neatly on her desk all along.

"Thanks," she said, taking them from him. "Gotta go, tell your mom I said hi, I'll be back in a couple hours."

"Isn't your class only van hour?" he asked.

"Staff meeting," she explained, kissing him quickly on the forehead. "See ya later."

"'Bye," he said with a smile.


A cool October breeze swept across the lawn, giving Willow's horticulture class a collective case of the goose bumps. They zipped and buttoned up sweatshirts and jackets as they waited for their teacher.

"She is coming today, right?" Bobby said, standing around in just a t-shirt. Bobby didn't get cold.

"She'll be here," Jackie said. "I think…"

"Speak of the devil," Kitty muttered, her teeth chattering. Willow sprinted across the lawn towards them, ready to teach them something new about plants.

"Hey guys, sorry I'm late," she panted.

"Did it have something to do with your sleepover?" Kitty teased.

"Can it," Willow said under her breath through gritted teeth.

"Are we ever going to move class inside?" Theresa Cassidy asked.

"Pretty soon," Willow said. "Eventually I won't be able to grow most annuals since they'll be out of season and hard to keep alive out here. Also, thought I'd let you guys know, there's a midterm coming up pretty soon." Everyone groaned. "Don't freak out, I haven't even told you want I want from you yet! We're gonna start doing a brief overview of pomology soon. Anyone remember from the syllabus what pomology is?"

"The study of fruit-bearing plants and how to cultivate them," Jubilee piped up. She had been showing up more often once the news of Willow's stricter classroom policies came her way. To Willow's complete surprise, she had been doing her homework and turning it in on time as well.

"Good, good. Might wanna write that down, those of you who didn't know. Anyway, back to the midterm. It's gonna be a paper," she said.

"But we've been doing papers every week," Paige Guthrie complained.

"Oh, please," Willow said, rolling her eyes. "They're always one measly page just to make sure you're paying attention. The midterm paper will be no less than five pages based on what we learn about pomology. You'll pick a species, research it and write a paper."

"How many internet sources can we use?" asked Roberto.

"Any and all you can get your hands on. I know that for some of us, it's not so easy heading out to the library," she said. "You guys don't have to worry about this for a little while, so just concentrate on note-taking for the next few weeks and keep up on your homework. Alright, so today we're gonna start chapter six, I'd like you to read that over to yourself tonight…" Suddenly, a pair of hands covered her eyes from behind, causing Willow to jump half out of her skin.

"Guess who, chere?" said a voice in her ear that Willow hadn't heard in a very long time.

"Gambit!" she cried as he lifted his hands away from her eyes. She turned around and had her speculations confirmed: Remy LeBeau was back, looking the same as the day he'd sat down next to her on the greyhound, bound for the east coast. His hair was still long on top, looking wind-swept as ever. His classic five o' clock shadow still adorned his chin and cheeks. A trench coat was slung around his shoulders, allowing him to look like trouble when he wanted to. "Oh my God! How are you? Where have you been?" she asked, beaming.

"Oh, here and dere, you know how it is," he said with a shrug. "Decided after all dis cure business I oughta find someplace safe for a while."

"Well, you've come to the right place," she said.

"So what is dis? You teachin' now, mon ami?" he asked.

"Yep, first class ever," she said with a smile. As she glanced at the staring faces, she realized how very confused they all must be. "You guys, this is Remy LeBeau, also known as Gambit. He's a friend of mine." Gambit flashed his suave, Cajun smile.

"Oh, I meant to say dat I'm sorry for not writin' you," he said, turning his attention back on Willow. "Tings got a little…complicated for a while. Didn't have de time."

"No sweat," she told him.

"Is Remy gonna be a distraction if he stays around and has a listen?" he asked with a grin.

"You can hang around if you want," said Willow. "Eventually you should talk to Storm. She's the brains of the outfit; she'll find you a room and all that."

"I'll look into it," he said as he sauntered away and took a place behind everyone else.

"Ah, okay, so as I was saying, chapter six is over the basics of pomology. Like most horticulture, besides knowing how to raise a healthy garden, pomology is based on knowing how to cultivate crops for mass production. We're going to start with apple trees since they're pretty common and can be grown in pretty much anyone's backyard," Willow said. She quickly grew a small apple tree sapling.

"Alright, here we have a baby apple tree, usually called a 'whip'. When you plant these little guys, you wanna make sure that it's going to get plenty of sunlight, not only because it'll grow faster and bigger, but because the sun dries the dew from the leaves that could otherwise cause infection or rot. Also, you have to make sure that the soil you're planting in has good drainage. The roots can't breathe if they're submerged in standing water all the time."

The class quickly scribbled down notes. Remy grinned to himself. Last time he'd seen Willow, she was stand-offish, scared and without any kind of confidence. Now, as he watched her teach, he could see that she'd become a strong, independent young woman, ready to take on the world.

"Make sure that when you're looking at apple tree whips to buy that they're in good condition. Make sure the bark and the leaves look healthy. A lot of times you get what you pay for, so sometimes it's better to go with the more expensive plant. At least then you know that you're paying for quality."

"As for fruit, you can expect most varieties to ripen in June or July. Usually the fruit doesn't last more than around two or three weeks. Alright, so I'm gonna name a few varieties of apples and when the fruit becomes ripe. I'll try to show examples of each, but I'm not sure how long they'll last since it's pretty late in the season…"


After another half hour, Willow dismissed everyone from class. Gambit was the only one that stuck around. Willow fished her cell phone out of her pocket and observed that the staff meeting began in five minutes.

"I'm gonna be late again," she groaned as she decomposed the last demonstration apple tree.

"Now that right there is fascinatin'," Gambit said, gesturing to the rotting tree.

"Think so?" she asked as the tree disappeared into the ground.

"Sure," he said brightly. "Also, I'm glad to see dat you're doin' so good out here. Got a home and friends and a class-…"

"And I'm on a team of mutants," Willow added as she lead Remy across the lawn at a quick walk. "We save the world from time to time."

"Now ain't dat somethin'!" he cried. "Dis little petite's gone and grown up without me."

"You aren't that much older than me," she told him with a raised eyebrow.

"How old you now, chere?" he asked.

"I turn twenty on my next birthday," she said.

"Well den, I guess you were right. I turn twenty-three on my next birthday," he said.

"You're younger than my boyfriend," Willow scoffed.

"Now hold on one minute," he said sternly, stopping her. "Dis boyfriend of yours, how old's he?"

"Twenty-four," she answered.

"He treat you right?" Remy asked.

"He couldn't treat me better," Willow said with a smile. "You'll have to meet him. He's quite the character."

"Well, I'm gonna have to insist. Wouldn't want you runnin' around with no lowlife like Remy," he said with a grin.

Willow led Gambit into the Mansion and upstairs toward one of the many common rooms. This one, however, had been changed into the staff lounge by Storm. Students were allowed to enter, but it was largely avoided as most of the younger ones had no desire to spend quality time with their teachers.

True to form, three sets of eyes stared at her when she entered the room. Storm gave her a disapproving look.

"Sorry I'm late," Willow said apologetically.

"Who is your friend?" Hank asked curiously from his seat on one of the couches.

"Oh, this is Remy LeBeau. He needs a place to stay until everything cools down," Willow said.

"If dat's alright wit you," Gambit added.

"Well, you came at a good time," Storm sighed in an irritated voice, "Quite a few parents have pulled their children out of the institute, so we have a few vacancies. Do you mind waiting outside until after the meeting?"

"Non, dat's fine wit me," he said with a shrug. Willow let him out of the room.

"Promise me something," she said.

"Anyting for you," he quipped. Willow rolled her eyes. Same old Gambit.

"Stay outta trouble and just sit tight," she said.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think dat you don't trust Remy," he said, sounding amused.

"Just stay put," she told him. She went back inside, leaving Gambit alone in the hall.

"Have a seat, Willow," Storm said, rising to her feet. As Willow flopped down on the couch next to Beast, she realized how incredibly exhausted Storm looked. Taking over the position of Headmaster of the school was her duty, but on top of teaching three classes and organizing new student affairs and getting others moved out of their old rooms, Willow could definitely understand how that could get tiring.

"Okay," Storm sighed as she began to pace a little. "This is going to be a particularly difficult time for us now that classes have started back up. A lot of these kids are going to have a hard time with the recent events, so I really want to make sure that everyone who needs comfort gets it. Also, for some of you new teachers, you're probably going to see some dropping grades. Do what you can to encourage the children to get their work done, even if they're distracted."

"Let's get to the part where you assign me a job," Logan growled. "If I'm gonna stick around, I wanna at least have something to do."

"Alright…," Storm said, sounding stressed. "Logan, since I'm going to be so busy, I want you to take over the Danger Room sessions. You've proven that you're a reliable part of the team, so I trust you."

"I like the sound of that," he said with a smirk.

"Hank's going to be taking over the Professor's Ethic's class as well as Chemistry, Physics and Humanities," Storm said.

"Quite the load, furball," Logan said sarcastically. Hank eyed him wryly.

"Willow, you've really improved as a teacher and I'm willing, if you're ready, to hand over Jean's old art class to you," Storm said.

"Sure," Willow said. "No problem." Her gut felt like it was tying in a knot. Were they not in such a scrape, Willow might have declined the offer. However, Willow knew that she had to be willing to pull some extra weight for the good of the institute. If they didn't find a way to keep classes going at a semi-normal rate, half the purpose of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters would up and vanish. It was their responsibility to not only give their students a safe place to live, but to educate them and prepare them for the road ahead.

"I'll still handle History, Mathematics and English. Unfortunately, we will have to discontinue the music course," she said.

"No one'll miss it," Willow said. "When I took it, there were only a few kids in the class anyway."

"As long as we can give the students the equivalent of a high school education, maybe better, we'll know that we've done our job right," Storm said. "It's a big work load, but I'm confident that we can do it."

"So will art be available as an elective right after my semester of horticulture is done?" Willow asked.

"That was the idea," Storm said. "It'll give you plenty of time to write up a lesson plan."

"Which is a good thing since I'm so very bad at writing them…," Willow muttered under her breath.

"You'll be fine," Hank said softly, peering over the tops of his reading glasses at her. She smiled and felt a little better about the gauntlet of work ahead of her.

"The new changes will be effective next semester, right in time for class sign ups," she concluded. "Alright, well, that went faster than I expected," Storm said, wracking her brains for anything else she had to say. "Why don't we get your friend on file and in a room, Willow?"

"Right behind you," Willow said, getting up and following Storm out of the room.


Out in the hall, Gambit was behaving himself remarkably well. He hadn't made a peep, he hadn't flirted with anyone and he hadn't blown anything up. So far, Willow thought that he was making a pretty good impression.

"Dat was fast," he said with a smile when the two women emerged.

"Why don't we step into my office and we'll get you set up," Storm said, taking the lead down the hall. It was still awkward to refer to Charles' office as hers. She would never feel at home at his place behind the desk. In fact, most days, she generally tried to avoid the room entirely. Just being in there conjured up painful memories that she would prefer to leave behind her.

Remy looked around the immaculate office, visibly impressed. He knew an entire guild of thieves that would give an arm and a leg to gain access to this place. Good ting dose times are behind me, he thought to himself. One last close call had brought his days of petty thieving to an end. Well, maybe not entirely to an end, but he was planning on cutting back…

"Alright," Storm said, sitting down uncomfortably in the chair behind the desk. She could see that she wasn't the only one that felt awkward in Xavier's office. Willow shifted her weight, feeling uneasy. The last time she'd been in here, the Professor had sensed Jean's disappearance from the mansion.

Storm retrieved a stats Xerox from one of the drawers in her desk. Every time they welcomed a new student into their midst, a stats sheet had to be filled out. Name, date of birth, original place of residence, mutation, visitor list, etcetera.

"Name," Storm said, pencil poised for action.

"Remy LeBeau," he replied.

"Any aliases?"

"Gambit."

"Date of birth."

"February 1st."

"Age?"

"Twenty-two."

"Height?"

"6'1''."

"Weight?"

"Oh, 'bout 175."

"Original place of residence?"

"New Orleans, Louisiana."

"Mutation?"

"You're lookin' at a couple of 'em," he said, looking into her eyes. She scribbled down his unusual optic features. "Aside from dat," he said, extracting the Ace of Spades from his inner trench coat pocket. He gripped it until it began to glow with hot-orange energy before he tossed it into the air. The card exploded, sending smoldering bits to the hardwood floor below. "I dunno what you'd call dat, 'cept for maybe blowin' tings up."

"We'll have the resident scientist examine you to pin point your powers," she said, referring, of course, to Hank.

"As long as it don't involve needles, fine by me," he said with a smile.

"I'll make sure to let him know," Storm said, returning the smile. "Alright, last question. For all of the residents here, we set up a visitor list to ensure their safety. So is there anyone you don't want visiting you?"

"Pretty much anyone who ain't in dis house," Gambit said almost grimly. This last comment worried Storm a little, but, then again, she didn't want any visitors from the outside either. Each of them had their own demons to deal with, after all.

"Fair enough," she said. She got out a tan colored file, marked it 'Remy LeBeau' with a sharpie, and filed it away in the cabinet behind her. Next, she grabbed a clipboard that was sitting precariously atop a mound of stacked, graded essays. She flipped through the ledger for a moment. "Let's see here…we have a vacant room on the third floor," she said.

"Guess I'll be gettin' my exercise on dem stairs everyday," he smirked. "Oh well, gotta keep up dis manly physique somehow."

"Oh, please…," he heard Willow mutter from the back of the room. He flashed a lazy smile in her direction.

"Well, if you're interested in a workout, I'm sure you can get in on the Danger Room sessions, which are opening up to everyone next semester," Storm said.

"Danger Room, eh?" he said, looking interested. "Sounds like fun."

"You have no idea…," Willow said. Logan'll whip his Cajun ass into shape, that's for sure…

"Remy can handle whatever you dish out, chere," he promised Storm.

"I'll make sure Logan knows you're coming," she said, writing herself a note.