Gambling Time: Chapter 7

"Wasn't sure you would show."

The approaching teen half shrugged, keeping his hands in his pockets and looking anywhere but at me.

"I almost didn't."

"Because of what I did at work? To your friends?"

"No," he answered hesitantly while looking around. Not seeing anyone close enough to over hear he continued, though quieter, just in case. "You were pretty brutal with Aegis, but he didn't have a problem with it and told us so. Gallant was upset, but I think it was more how easy he lost than that he lost to you. Vista's all set to adopt you though, which I think scares Armsmaster more than what you did in the ring."

Chuckling, I said, "It should. If he thinks Gambits bad with explody powers, imagine a mini me that can take what she wants without having to work for it."

Smiling slightly, Dennis didn't argue. "Thought you were mad at me."

I nodded. I was a bit miffed. Guess it showed more than I thought.

"Then why are you here, cher?"

"I figured even if you were, better to face it than make it worse. If you weren't then I definitely didn't want to leave things like this."

"Leave it like what?"

"Awkward," Dennis muttered finally looking at me. "I didn't know you smoked."

"Sometimes, when I have something on my mind," I said after blowing out a cloud. Smirking, I added, "or after something really memorable."

Dennis snorted.

"Does it bother you?"

"No. Not really."

Going to need to work on that, I thought. Dennis was crafty enough that a lie shouldn't be that transparent, but I guess the situation was awkward enough for anyone to make a mistake. Letting my power consume the offending little cigar, I flicked it away.

Not commenting on my use of powers openly, Dennis looked around. "Why are did you want to meet? Not that I'm complaining or anything but, why here?"

"During study period a couple of questions were asked, and neither of us answered them."

That brought his focus back to me.

"And?" He asked cautiously.

"And I'll ask again. Do you really want to know?"

"Aren't you worried I'll report it to Armsmaster?"

"No."

Looking disbelievingly at me, he folded his arms.

Allowing a smirk to show, I chuckled. "I'm really not worried, Dennis."

"Seems like that's taking a big chance. Especially after you're rant at Armsmaster."

"I'm a gambler," I answered easily. "And either way it goes, that too is an answer to a question I have. You have to feel free to do what you need to, mon'ami. I'm honestly okay with whichever way this goes."

Shaking his head Dennis allowed the first honest expression on his face to show. Fond exasperation.

"You really will gamble on anything."

"Almost anything," I softly returned.

"Kinda seems like you are though."

"Maybe I am," I conceded before shrugging. "This hero thing wasn't something I chose because I'm a good person, Dennis. I chose it because it was the easiest way to get what I wanted."

"And what is that, Renée?" Dennis asked with more intensity than I'd seen from him before.

"Danny, for one."

"Who?"

"My papa," I answered, looking away. "I told you how we found each other not long ago."

"Right, sorry," Dennis muttered. "You never told me his name though. So, he's why you joined?"

"One of the reasons," I clarified. "He's not like us. He's a civilian. While there were other options available, and more than a few I would have preferred, this one netted the larger return for the investment. So I took it."

"I can get doing something for your dad," Dennis said quietly. So quietly I almost missed it. "But I thought you didn't remember anything from before you're powers kicked in."

"I don't."

"Then that's not right. Not really. Something tells me that it would take a lot more than a guy you don't really remember to go through this much trouble. Even if he was your dad."

I nodded to his point. "In all honesty, if something did happen and I had to go back underground, he'd probably try and come with me so you're not wrong. Not ideal for either of us, but still an option."

"Then why, Renée? Why go through all of this to join and then risk throwing it all away on doing stuff? Especially if you think they're waiting to pin you for crossing the line."

"I decided long ago that static wasn't for me," I said instead of answering. This wasn't the time for that kind of truth. Maybe later, if there was going to be one. "Back then, I didn't know how long I'd make it so I choose to enjoy it all until I couldn't. Being a Probationary Ward hasn't changed that for me, Dennis."

Turning away from Dennis, I started heading toward the large building next to us. A couple of quick steps put him next to me but he didn't say anything until we crossed the automatic glass doors.

"I thought we were going to talk about this stuff. You didn't answer my question."

"Didn't I?" I chuckled.

Sighing, Dennis shook his head. "Why are we going into Brockton Memorial?"

This lobby wasn't very full. Just a few on duty personnel doing their thing mixed with a couple of people waiting, or making their own way somewhere. Habitually taking note of the four cameras and two guards, I started for the elevator keeping my head down and moving through the blind spots when I could.

"Rule Twenty-Seven."

"Ah, what?"

Stepping into the elevator I hit the button for the seventh floor.

"Nothing," I mumbled as the doors closed. "Just reminding myself of something."

The ride upward was quite. Awkwardly quiet until Dennis once again tried starting a conversation. Something I was thankful for as it kept me from thinking about what I was about to do. While I had hopes on how this was going to turn out, I'd been wrong about people before and some things were just too much for anyone to deal with.

Then again, I tended to have that effect on people.

"So, I was thinking about that thing with Armsmaster earlier. Do you really think he's setting you up or something?"

"Not really," I answered honestly.

"You don't?" Dennis asked surprised.

"No. He's just doing his job."

"But all the stuff you said. About the clothes and him trying to figure out how you fight? About him trying to put you in your place? What was all that about?"

"Honestly?"

Dennis nodded.

"I was just messing with him."

Laughing abruptly, Dennis asked, "Seriously?"

"Yeah," I answered smirking. When the elevator door chimed our arrival, I stepped through. "Gallant was probably right when he said that's how you guys train. I mean, what do I know about how heroes do things? I also assumed that the Protectorate would want to make use of me in a passive way since I refuse to be rebranded."

"I was actually wondering about that earlier. Assault mentioned that was something to expect," he said. "Why don't you want to rebrand?"

"Because I am not ashamed of who I am," I answered firmly. "And Gambit does not dress up in colorful spandex that shows off my assets for the masses to see. I will choose who sees what, when I deem them worthy. I am also not going to fight crime with ribbons or batons. I am most definitely not going to allow anyone to call me Acrobat, Shimmer, Scout, Vanguard, or Sparkle just because some PR idiot decided that a teenage gambler girl wasn't a family friendly image. The less said about the...edgier ideas they asked me about the better."

Exorcist. I mentally scoffed. He was lucky Miss Militia was in the room with us otherwise I would have given him something that would needed exorcising.

"They wanted Gambit, so they are getting Gambit," I continued. "As far as training with you guys, it's a good fit. I've probably been in more fights than all of you combined. Except maybe Vista."

"Vista, really?"

"Don't underestimate her," I warned only half jokingly. "She's very driven to prove herself. That kind of steel will make her formidable if she's ever backed into a corner.

"Yeah, she can be a little terror when she goes all out."

"I'd bet on her against most of you and never let you forget it when she wins."

"Okay, point made, but all that stuff you said about Armsmaster seemed like you really thought he would do something like you said."

"Oh, I don't doubt he was. He's most likely done it to all of you guys and made preparations. Just in case. I always knew he was going to do that to me."

"In case we get mastered or something? I can see that actually. We've had classes on what to do in situations like that."

"Yeah. Something like that."

"And it doesn't bother you?"

"Not really," I answered honestly. "He's a believer in his cause, and that is a powerful thing. It also can't be easy to be one of the top ranked heros in the Protectorate. With a good roll of the dice anyone can get to the top thirty. Can you imagine how much work it would take to climb into the very top spots, much less keep it? Especially for how long he's done it?"

"So, you bring all that stuff up just to mess with him because he's good?"

"Not because he's good, cher, but because he thinks of himself as a soldier in a war against evil."

"He's brought in a lot of bad guys though," Dennis said. "Okay, he's intense and yeah, he's a jerk most of the time, and I don't think he's ever had any kind of relationship with fun, but he's just doing his best to protect people."

Turning the corner we entered the day room for this floor. Large windows back dropped several wall mounted TV's and seating options. The room wasn't very full having only two patients tended by orderlies with a third not attached to anyone.

When I locked eyes on him, he nodded before leaving. Walking over to the windows, I looked over the city surrounding us.

"My issue with him isn't that, or with him specifically," I continued when Dennis joined me. "I guess it's a matter of different philosophies."

"What do you mean?"

Pointing toward the window I asked, "What do you see?"

"The city?"

I nodded. When I didn't say anything, Dennis frowned taking a second look. This time looking down at the street.

"People."

"Humans," I clarified.

"What?" Dennis asked. His laugh seeming more confused than amused. "What's the difference?"

"The same difference that lies between lead and gold."

"Okay, you're going to have to explain that one."

I smiled slightly. Without knowing it, he just showed another reason why I liked him. It was a shame it was going to have to be me who stole his innocence. That it wasn't even the innocence I wanted to steal from him made it worse.

"Have you ever looked up the word 'para'?" I asked. When Dennis shook his head, I continued. "Has a couple of meanings depending on how it's used. Things like closely related to, associated, or closely resembling are the more common I think. Faulty and abnormal are meanings I think were intended though when some normal dreamed up 'parahuman' to label us."

"Says it pretty clear, don't you think?" I asked quietly looking down on those below us. "That we're not like them. That we're so different we needed to be labeled. But that wasn't enough for normal people though. When labeling us wasn't enough, they started categorizing us."

"Mover, shaker, brute, breaker, master, tinker, blaster, thinker, striker, changer, trump, stranger. Heroes. Villains. They assigned us threat levels and an entire military was designed to control us by hunting us down. When even that didn't prove to be enough, they weaponized us to fight each other."

"There were some who chose to do some pretty bad things, Renée…"

"People have been doing bad things to people for centuries before we were even a thing," I returned sharply."But okay, answer this. How many humans are denied rights just for just being who they are?"

"That's right," I said seeing he wasn't going to continue. "Look at what happened to Bad Canary."

"She made a guy screw himself with his own dick," Dennis said looking a bit queasy. "I mean, it's a pretty horrible use of powers."

"He was a stalker and deserved far worse than he got," I returned. "And she didn't even want him to do that. She just wanted him to leave her alone. Does that get talked about? No, only what he did to himself is. All the coverage ignores what he was doing to her and focuses on what happened to him. What the parahuman did the to human."

"Nothing about all the concerts she did where no one got hurt or the charity concert she gave after the bombings at Cornell University. They're ignoring the fact that guy bribed her security to get backstage. That she told security that she needed to be alone for a while after a concert. That he was trying to take a cut of her hard work like he owned her. Just because they used date."

"And is she being tried by a jury of her peers? No, she's being tried by humans. Humans who are afraid of her power. They're so afraid of her they have her strapped down like Hannibal Lecter for everyone to see. That isn't a trial, it's a freak show where normal's get to watch one of us put in our place."

"She was a rogue, Dennis. All she wanted to do was to make money by singing. She never wanted to hurt anyone. She was entertaining them with an experienced only she could give. Music on a level that unless you've been one of her concerts you can't understand. Now she's going to get the 'cage. How is that justice?"

"I didn't say it was and the trials not over yet. She might still get off," Dennis answered. "You seem to know more about that stuff than her own lawyer does."

"Probably because her lawyers barely putting in any effort," I answered bitterly. "One look at the media coverage will tell you how it's going to end, and it won't be in her favor."

"Okay, I can get that this looks like a shitty deal for her, but why are you all fired up about this? Was she a friend of yours or something?"

"I've been to one of her concerts," I answered. "I know exactly what her security was like. I know how easy it was to bribe someone to get backstage. I did it and it wasn't even that expensive. Even told her so when we hung out that night. She's good people, Dennis. A bit naive about some stuff but still good people."

"Master's scare people, Renée. For good reason."

"Labels," I scoffed. "All they care about is what she could do with her power. They're not asking themselves if she would, only looking at that she can."

"And that's my problem with the PRT and Protectorate, Dennis. That's my problem with Armsmaster and the way people like him think. They created and support a system that only has two outlets for us. Heroics or Villainy. You're either a slave, or a criminal. There is no middle ground."

"That's not really true. Rogues are a thing. There's several in Brockton Bay, like Parian. She's been seen making stuffed animals dance around for stores downtown and the rumor is she's studying clothing design and stuff."

"But how long will that last?" I asked. "How long before someone makes the choice for her? Maybe the Empire or Coil decide they don't want her in their area of downtown and make a move. Depending on the fallout, Parian will have to pay protection rents or have no choice but to join or get protection from the Protectorate or one of the smaller villain groups."

"Well, the Protectorates better than the working for the Empire," Dennis pointed out fairly. "Or any villain really. Compared to them, working for us isn't a bad deal. They'd treat her fairly."

"Maybe, but if she wanted to be a hero, she would have signed up on her own," I argued. "And that doesn't change the fact that its someone else taking away her choice. The fact is she chose to be a rogue because that's the only alternative for us."

"And what rights do we really have, Dennis? I'm banned from being an athlete in any professional sport. Why? Because I have powers? My physic isn't anything you can't find in other people who put in the effort."

"It's pretty nice though," Dennis said.

"Flattery will get you everywhere," I joked back, letting myself calm down a bit. While I appreciated his attempt to deflect the seriousness of our talk, I pressed on. Though his appreciation felt nice. "But that doesn't change that I will never be able to compete in the Olympics, professionally run track, or anything like that."

"No matter how good she gets," I continued. "Parian will never be allowed to own her own businesses or run a company without a human handler. Why? Because that means she'll have to out herself and if she did that, she'd open herself to capes who want her to help them. Whether she wants to or not. That's what happens to parahumans who exposed themselves. Unwritten rules or not, it always makes us targets for those on either side of the line. When New Wave formed, one of them died. They're choice didn't just cost them a member, it stalled any momentum for their cause before they could get going. Which is a shame really because I always thought they had the right idea, even if their goals were misguided."

"And yet, for all you like them, you beat up Glory Girl," Dennis pointed out.

Rolling my eyes I ignored him. He wasn't wrong. "We can't even work in government unless it's in the Protectorate. There isn't a single parahuman in that, or any, governing body. Not one. All our options from how we live to our futures are decided for us by normal people. Unless something changes, in the end we're all going to either end up as heros and give our lives fighting our own, villains for as long as we can doing the same thing, or like Bad Canary and put down because normal people are afraid of us. All because of something we have no control over."

Shaking my head at my own rant, I turned away looking outward to the city. I half wanted to continue. Telling him how much I didn't want these powers. What they've cost me. How hard it was to keep it contained. To not use them, and when I did to limit how much. The struggle each time I touched something to not put too much into them because it was so easy. To not repeat that time...

Instead I stayed quiet. Breathed to calm myself down. While our voices didn't look like it carried over to the others in the day room, it was getting close. No need to air this beyond the two of us. This isn't even the conversation I wanted to have with him. Not that I wanted to do that one either, but I needed to know where this was going. If, if it was going to go anywhere.

Better to find out now, than later.

"I don't want you to think I dislike normal's, Dennis," I clarified. "I don't. I just..."

"You just don't like them hating you for who you are," he finished. "It makes sense really. Why you never masked yourself unless you had to. You're grudge against the Protectorate."

"It's not just them hating me. I'm not vain enough to think everyone will like me, though they really should. I'm a lot of fun to be around normally," I tried joking. It earned me a weak chuckle.

"It's the lack of equality, Dennis. We didn't ask for this. Those same people who sit in judgment of us forget that this happened to us. They built a system and rigged it so that we can't be more than our powers. With few exceptions, parahumans stop being people the moment we become capes. The only reason I have the freedoms I do with the Protectorate is because I was lucky enough to be able to afford an expert to get them."

"Okay, so if you feel that strongly about this, what can we do about it?" He asked seriously. "I mean, I get this is important to you, so what can we do?"

Looking over his shoulder showed the orderly from earlier walking back into the day room. Again meeting my eyes and nodding before striking up a conversation with the on duty nurse at the station.

Waving Dennis to follow, I headed to our destination.

"Nothing," I answered.

"Seriously?"

"What can I do?" I asked rhetorically. "Run my own private school of parahumans and brainwash them into thinking like me? Run my own vigilante team and force people to accept us?"

I scoffed at my own answer. "Gambit is no revolutionary to lead the charge for parahuman rights. I support them, but I couldn't lead one where or how it would need to go. I would only ruin it's chances. That doesn't mean I have to blindly accept the status quo and I can already tell that life in the Wards isn't going to be that much different than when I ran with a gang."

"That's kind of harsh," Dennis muttered next to me. "There's stuff I don't like about it, but it's not as bad as being in a gang."

"Not all gangs are like you think," I said quietly as a nurse was passing us. "And depending on what they're trying to do, some are not that bad. I'm biased though, I like to think I ran a good one but I was talking about when I ran with the 'Rats."

"Working for the Protectorate means a different environment and rules but the same nonetheless. I'm still expected to play the part of the good little enforcer. But like the Rat King, the PRT is going to find out that controlling Gambit isn't as easy as telling me what to do. If they want me to dance, they're going to need to play the right music. Until then, or until I find something better, I'll play my own."

Reaching the room I was heading for, I nodded toward it. "Part of that tune is in there."

Looking confused, Dennis looked through the window built into the door. I didn't need to, having been here before and already looked.

Inside was a kid. He was thirteen years old, according to the doctor Penny seduced the other day. Emaciated and hooked up to a lot of machines that did nothing but monitor his fading condition and dispense pain medication.

Pulling back, Dennis looked at me with a frown not saying anything.

"His name is Michael Corner," I explained. "He liked playing sports before he got sick, watching cape videos, and playing video games. His favorite in particular is a popular franchise involving characters from a different game driving go-karts, according to my source."

"He's dying. Cancer," I stated bluntly before looking through the window myself. "He has a little sister who idolizes him, and two parents who are all but selling their souls for his treatments. The doctors gave him three months, six months ago. Kids a fighter."

"Why are you telling me this, Renée?" Dennis whispered.

The pain in his voice made me wonder if he just felt for the kid, or if there was something personal between his situation and something in Dennis's own life. Deciding not to look deeper, I instead answered. "Those cape videos he likes? He specifically likes watching Uber and Leet. Huge fan really. Not all their stuff, but most of it. Loves their theme of using video games for their capers."

"He asked the orderly to help him post a fan letter on their site a couple of weeks ago. Justin's a good guy, so didn't say anything and helped him. Turns out, Uber and Leet read their fan mail. They decided to pull a job for the kid. Something right out of his favorite game so the kid can go out with a memory to make the other kids in heaven jealous when he gets there. Leet even built him a set of VR goggles that will let him watch as if he was there."

Looking back to Dennis showed only a blank face. Not one that didn't understand what I was saying, but one who was trying very hard not to show what he was thinking or feeling.

That didn't bode well.

"Uber and Leet were in a bind with the kids time limited," I continued, having already antied in. Time to see how this hand played out. "They wanted to pull the job by this weekend but to do so they needed help and a lot of supplies. So Uber reached out. Offered to pay me quite a bit to help them. I did."

I didn't need to say how I helped exactly. I could tell by Dennis's eyes he understood exactly what my help entailed and it wasn't blowing something up. His following comments confirmed it.

"So you robbed someone."

"More like a few someones, a couple of business and a warehouse, actually."

Dennis started at me silently.

"They needed a lot of supplies."

"And set up Glory Girl to distract everyone from what happened?"

"While the smash and grabs I planned lacked elegance," I confirmed. "The warehouse didn't and even you have to admit, chéri, using Glory Girl for my alibi was a work of art. Especially when you consider how many times I had to lose her and then let her find me again after I did want needed doing, without letting her catch me doing something she wasn't supposed to see."

He snorted, turning away to look at Michael again. "We could talk to Panacea…"

"No."

"But…"

"No, Dennis," I said shaking my head. "Even if she didn't hate me for beating up her sister, it is not her responsibly to heal people just because she can. There are just too many people in need for her, or any traiteur, to heal. To even try she would have to give everything up, dedicate her all to nothing but healing and in the end she would fail. Even then, what kind of life is that to live? A slave to the people just because she happens to have the power to fix them?"

Shaking my head at the idea I said, "It's not her responsibility to heal everyone who gets sick just because she can. In the end it would ruin her and she would resent everyone for it. Maybe even start hurting people just to make them stop coming to her. Besides, this stuff happens to people. It's life, and what makes him special, out of all those suffering? Because he's a kid? Because we know about him?"

"Sometimes you just get a bad hand and it's better to just accept that when God decides your time is up and calls you home, you go home. Until then, you live as if each day was your last, and fight for each moment more. Just like Michael. Just like..."

I swallowed my words back, unwilling to say them. Looking at my partially gloved hand I clenched it into a fist. It wasn't his burden to bear.

"Hey," Dennis said lowly, before taking my hand and smiling. "Want to go to a party? With me?" He began rubbing his thumb over the top of my glove where the back of my hand was exposed. It was distracting.

"Cher?"

Looking more sure of himself, he asked again. "It's Friday and there's that party I told you about. Would you like to go? It's supposed to be a good party. Should be a keg and Jordan said he found the key to his parents liquor cabinet, so lots of alcohol."

"There are parties that don't have alcohol?"

Chuckling, Dennis nodded. "I've never been to one, but I heard about them. They sounded like they sucked."

"I just ranted about how much I don't like the people we work for, told you I masterminded a series of robberies, that I'm working with known villains, basically everything the Wards program stands against, and you're asking me out?"

Meeting my eyes, Dennis seemed to pause for a bit before saying, "Yeah. Yeah, I am."

"Mais," I muttered, shaking my head. "Okay. Yeah, I'd like that, cher. But, how can you be okay with all this?"

"I don't suppose you would just accept that I am?"

I slowly shook my head.

Sighing, Dennis ran his hand through his hair. Looking down the hallway without really seeing it.

"I'm not okay with this, Renée, but just because I don't like what you're doing, doesn't mean I can't understand why you're doing it. At least in this case," he said, waving at the still closed door. "But that's mostly because I don't want anything to happen to you. I…"

Blowing out a breath and looking frustrated he went quiet for a full minute before he started talking again.

"I like you," Dennis said, seeming like he was almost forcing the words out. "Like, really like you and if you get caught, I'm not going to be able to see you anymore. And that's… I don't want that."

"Cher… "

"I mean, is that so bad?"

"No, mon cher," I whispered. "It's not."