Later that afternoon, Rogue gave Gambit a lift up to the roof so that he could retrieve his anchor rope. The two of them had changed into their uniforms; the whole mansion was on high alert since the unusual intrusion that morning.
"T'anks, chère," he smiled at her, as he recovered the rope and slung it over his shoulder, "dis much easier dan climbing."
"Yer welcome," she rested one hand on her hip as she shielded her eyes from the sun with the other, "always liked the view from up here, anyway."
"Maybe we sit an' enjoy it a while, den?" Gambit slipped an arm around her waist, and immediately felt her body stiffen up, "ah, sorry, chère, Gambit didn't mean to..."
"Not you," Rogue whispered; she sounded terrified, "look – over there!"
Gambit followed the direction of her extended finger, and his eyes narrowed. Purple-black smoke was slowly pouring over the high wall around the grounds of the mansion.
"We gotta do somethin'..." Rogue began, but trailed off uncertainly, "but how the hell do we fight that thing...?"
"We don't," Gambit said, firmly, "I do. Jus' get me to de ground, an' den get inside, as far away as you can."
"You can't face her alone, Remy..."
"Gambit can block her out, remember? Get me to de ground, quick, before she get too close!"
Rogue obliged, wrapping her arms around Gambit's waist and lifting him into the air with her, coming down to land on the ground. Almost as soon as she did so, a cold chill passed over her, and she let out a low whimper of despair.
Feel my presence, little girl...
"No," Rogue shook her head, squeezing her eyes closed, "not again... get outta mah head!"
Gambit quickly slapped a hand to his wrist communicator; "Gambit to all X-Men – Miasma is back – Jean, Professor, could do wit' yo' help out here!"
Feel the darkness... the despair... the call of the void... nobody loves you... nobody cares... even your Daddy turned his back... your Mama only wanted your powers... none of them care about you... how pathetic you are... so desperate for love... how could anyone love such a freak... they only want you around to exploit you... they hate you... they laugh at you... how embarrassing you are... feel the darkness and pain and despair of Miasma...
"It's not true..." Rogue sobbed, pressing her hands to her face, but she did not sound convinced, "it's... not true..."
"Fight it, chère," Gambit urged her, then turned angrily on Miasma, "you let her go! Gambit don' wanna hurt you, but I will if you don' let her go!"
Foolish thing... she is mine... you think he loves you, girl? He's mocking you... he knows you can't touch him, why would anyone want something like you... he thinks it's fun to tease you, doesn't he? Nobody loves you... nobody has ever loved you... you're pathetic... you're worthless... you're a vile freak...
"Leave me alone," Rogue whispered, brokenly, falling to her knees, helplessly, "please..."
Feel the pain... the emptiness... the loss... the void... the whirlwind of darkness... let Miasma claim your mind and consume your very soul... you want it... you deserve it... life is pointless... it is only pain... let it go... surrender to me...
"Life is pointless," Rogue murmured, "just let me die... please..."
"Let her go!"
Gambit charged and flung a card, but Miasma flickered and shifted around it; it flew through her, exploding harmlessly somewhere behind her. Gambit gritted his teeth, drawing several cards – he knew they could hurt her, and she couldn't dodge all of them at once. He flung three; two missed, but one impacted. However, as Miasma screamed, so did Rogue, and Gambit froze.
Fool... Miasma's eerie yellow eyes lit up, her disembodied voice gloating, Miasma is in her head now... she's mine... she feels what Miasma feels... you can't hurt me without hurting her...
"No," Gambit dropped to his knees in front of Rogue, gripping her arms, "Rogue! Look at me! Fight it!"
Rogue's arms hung limply at her sides and her head lolled back, listlessly; Gambit swore as she stared at him with an empty, vacant gaze – her eyes had clouded over, a strange purple-black colour, just like the fog of Miasma.
"Come on, chère," he pleaded, "you gotta block her out..."
She cannot, gloated Miasma, victoriously, if I cannot have you, then I will have her... maybe with her loss you will feel some of the pain and darkness and despair of Miasma...then I shall have my way in, and I shall claim you for my own... I want you, and I shall have you, one way or another...
"If I can block you out..." Gambit trailed off, as a crazy, suicidal idea took hold, "den maybe dere's a way she can..."
"Gambit!" screamed another voice – Jean was running towards them, her hands clasped to her temples in concentration, "I'm trying to break her hold on Rogue, but I can't get through!"
"Den dere's only one t'ing for it..." Gambit closed his eyes, "sorry, chère... could jus' hold yo' hand, but dis more fun..."
He took a deep breath, before he reached out, grasping Rogue's face with both hands, and planted a deep, firm kiss on her lips. He felt his skin light up with the electric draw of her powers, but he forced himself to hold on, determined to make sure she absorbed enough of his energy and abilities to save herself. Fire tore through every nerve as her powers pulled the energy from every cell of his body, but still he held on... until, with a sigh, he was forced to let go, as his consciousness fled, and he crumpled to the ground.
The effect was instantaneous. Rogue felt mental barriers go up; her thoughts and vision suddenly snapped back into focus with alarming clarity, and she found herself gazing into Miasma's furious, yellow-eyed gaze.
No! What have you done? How have you done this?
"Get outta my head, ya willowy witch!"
Rogue reached inside her coat, and was momentarily confused when there was no familiar deck of cards at her fingertips. She swore in French as she realised she was confusing Gambit's memories with her own; she quickly rolled the unconscious Cajun onto his back, fumbling to pull the ever-present cards from his pocket.
No! Feel my darkness! Feel the pull of the empty void...
"Feel this, you... vous... vous salope!"
Rogue charged and threw a playing card; Miasma shimmered and oozed away but was intercepted by a second card; she screamed and pulled back, howling in rage and despair. Rogue felt the scream knife down to her very soul, Gambit's latent empathic abilities feeling the pain and desolation but his mental blocks effectively walling off the feelings, separating them from her own, as she raised herself into the sky, summoning her rage at the monster before her.
"Deal with this!"
Rogue rained down a rapid succession of charged playing cards with Gambit's borrowed powers and skills; Miasma roiled and raged, lashing out at her with smoky tendrils, but Rogue easily evaded the attacks, throwing down another charged card. Eventually, with a wordless, soul-shattering scream, Miasma turned and fled, leaping over the wall, vanishing in inky trails of smoke. Rogue slowly lowered herself back down to the ground, landing lightly and dropping into a crouch beside the unconscious Gambit.
"Is he alright?" Jean was by her side in an instant, worry written across her expressive features.
"Ah don't know," Rogue said, softly, sadly, "he held on for an awful long time, Jean..."
Jean pressed two fingers to Gambit's neck; there was a long, tense moment, and then relief flashed across her face, and she nodded to Rogue.
"He's got a pulse," she confirmed, "it's weak, but he's alive..."
"Thank God," Rogue lowered her head, "ya dumb Cajun, what did ya have ta go an' do a thing like that for...?"
With a sigh, she carefully slid one arm under his back, the other under his knees, and gently lifted him, cradling him to her chest. His head lolled backwards and his arms hung limply as she turned, and carried him into the mansion. Jean followed her; on the way, they found a very dazed looking Cyclops, rubbing his head, his expression haunted.
"What just happened?" he asked, "one minute I heard Gambit calling for the Professor... next thing I'm on my knees... oh, God... what happened to him?"
"Miasma came back," Jean said, quickly, "Scott, find Beast, we must get Gambit medical attention, immediately."
"I'm on it," Scott dashed off to find the scientist and resident medic.
Rogue carried Gambit through the mansion, into the lower levels, until they reached the medical bay. There, she tenderly lowered him onto one of the beds. She reached for a blanket to cover him until help arrived, but swore as it lit up under her touch and she quickly tossed it to one side as it exploded harmlessly in corner of the room.
"Perhaps I should do that," Jean spared her a small, apologetic smile, fetching another blanket, "any idea how long it might be before he wakes up?"
"Last time this happened it took a few hours," Rogue looked at her hands in disgust, "an' that was only a brief touch – ah think he really held on ta me this time. When ma first boyfriend kissed me, he was in a coma for months! Why'd he do it, Jean? He coulda died!"
"I think you already know," Jean said, gently, as she tucked the blanket around the unconscious Gambit, "you know how much he cares for you, Rogue."
"Know? Ah can feel it," Rogue carefully folded her arms around herself, making sure not to touch anything that she might inadvertently ignite with Gambit's borrowed powers, "ah got some a' his feelin's an' memories this time... can't tell where mah thoughts end an' his begin..."
The two of them glanced up as the door opened, admitting Beast, Professor Xavier and Cyclops. Both Beast and Cyclops still appeared very dazed.
"I apologise for my tardiness," Beast told them, immediately crossing to the bedside, "it seems Miasma is growing stronger; we all nearly succumbed to her influence, at least until you drew her full attention, Rogue... what happened out there, and to Gambit?"
"Damn fool kissed me an' held on," Rogue groused, without any real malice, "gave me his darn powers so I could block her out and fight back. Is he gonna be okay, Hank?"
"Oh, dear," Beast sighed, already reaching for some of his medical equipment, "Allow me to run a few tests..."
"Are you okay, Rogue?" Cyclops crossed to her side in concern, as Beast busied himself with tending to his unconscious patient, "We all felt what Miasma was doing to you... to all of us... then it suddenly stopped."
"That was Gambit's doin'... Ah'll be fine, as soon as he wakes up," she made a vague gesture towards Gambit and then snatched her hands back, lest she inadvertently touch something, "an' ah can't help but feel that ain't the last we've seen of that...that... salope aux yeux jaunes."
"The what, sorry?"
"Yellow eyed, uh... lady of questionable morals," Beast supplied, absently, as he worked.
"I see you picked up more than just Gambit's powers," Cyclops commented, dryly, "but I'm afraid you might be right. She seemed to have developed something of a fixation on us..."
"More specifically, on Gambit and Rogue, and to a lesser extent, yourself and Jean," the Professor spoke up, in a grim tone, "I tried to scan her mind during the last attack. She seems to be a creature of pure feeling and instinct, and she is capable of blocking out my telepathic scans. However, I sensed great rage and jealousy at the bonds of love between each of you. It is not something she has ever experienced herself."
"Well, she ain't exactly the lovable kind," Rogue replied, disgust evident in her tone, "anythin' else ya got, Professor? Like where in tarnation she might have come from, an' how we send her back there?"
"Or how we can all help to fight that thing instead of ending up on our knees wishing we were dead?" Scott added, with a hard edge in his voice.
"I know very little more than you do," Xavier admitted, "but I will see each of you separately, and I will try to install some mental barricades in your mind that you can employ to block out her influence to some extent, as Gambit was able to. She does not seem vulnerable to telepathic attack, but perhaps without the full effects of her abilities turned against you, you might be able to defeat her through more conventional means."
"I'll take any advantage you can give us, Professor," Cyclops agreed, "Hank... how's Gambit doing?"
"Not well," Beast shook his head, grimly, as he fitted an oxygen mask over Gambit's face. "He is comatose – he is perilously weak and bradycardic with intermittent arrhythmia and extremely low blood pressure. I have him on intravenous adrenaline in an effort to stabilise his cardiac functions; it is likely to be some time before he wakes up. If he had held on for a few moments longer..."
He broke off with a sigh, as Rogue dropped her head, guilt and shame flowing through her.
"I hate that mah powers did this ta him," she hugged her arms close around her body, "dammit, Remy, why'd ya have ta do that? Ah'm not worth savin'..."
"Rogue," Xavier's voice cut through her misery, and she forced herself to meet his kind gaze, "Gambit did what he thought was necessary because he cares about you so deeply. Perhaps you would be kind enough to accompany me to my study... I fear that if Gambit's powers wear off you before he awakes, you will be more vulnerable to another attack from Miasma. I should like to assist you in establishing some mental defences of your own... you can return to sit with Gambit later on."
"Oh... okay," she hesitated, and then nodded, "Hank... ya'll call me if there's any change, won't ya?"
"Immediately," Beast promised, resting one hand on Gambit's shoulder, "I will remain with him, until you return."
"Thanks, Hank."
Lowering her head, Rogue reluctantly followed Xavier out of the room, leaving Beast and Cyclops alone with their unconscious friend. Cyclops slowly approached the bedside, shaking his head as he surveyed Gambit's prone form.
"Damned fool," he echoed Rogue's earlier sentiment, but without rancour, "but... I'd have done the exact same thing in his position if it were Jean... you think he'll be okay?"
"If he were a normal human, he would be dead," Beast replied, bluntly, now that Rogue was not around to hear the grim assessment, casting a glace down at his patient, "thankfully, part of Gambit's mutation allows him to produce excessive amounts of energy with no more food and a lot less sleep than either you or I might require. It is how he is able to create so much bio-kinetic energy without exhausting himself..."
"...And stay out all night drinking, gambling and doing who-knows-what-else," Cyclops quirked his lips in wry amusement, "that explains a lot."
"Indeed," Beast shared his smile, "though he came dangerously close to draining himself completely in his efforts to save Rogue. While his actions were admirable, given that he was the only one of us able to put up not only a defence but also an attack against Miasma, I am now severely concerned for our ability to effectively deter her advances should she attempt her infiltration a third time..."
"Is there anything else you can do, Hank?" Cyclops asked, a note of desperation creeping into his voice, "We may need him back on his feet if she does come back..."
"Not without causing irreparable damage to his brain and central nervous system," Beast shook his head, emphatically, "all we can do now is give him time and hope that he makes a full recovery on his own."
"Let's hope that's sooner rather than later," Cyclops rested one hand on Gambit's arm, "and that Miasma doesn't show up again in the meantime."
"I am sorry, my friend. I have a dire feeling that this may be a forlorn hope..."
"So do I, Hank. So do I."
