Chapter 15: Friend In Need

The cure was the only news for the next several days. Heavy snows trapped Xavier's students indoors, where there was little else to do but stare at the gray remains of Paris and Cairo and listen to the talking heads argue about how to handle the new "mutant crisis." Disturbingly, a large percentage of the Parisian survivors turned out to be mutants, and many of them children. The Institute received several phone calls a day, some for the students from worried family members, but mostly from random citizens who had somehow gotten the number and wanted to take out their fear on someone. Meanwhile huge lines sprouted outside clinics offering the cure, but prouder mutants heckled them so much that military supervision was required. Similar incidents broke out in smaller scale within the mansion, as friends discovered who among them was planning to join those lines.

Jean and Xavier held individual conferences with the students, and every evening convened with the other adults to discuss their progress. Jean was confident that she had convinced most of the questioning students to stay, especially now that some of the hype had worn down. She brought up Rogue, half-heartedly suggesting that once they'd finished with Apocalypse maybe she'd have her mind made up. No one talked about Kurt, and Sabere was still afraid to breach the question. Time would tell, just like every other situation.

Late one evening, Sabere was taking a mug of tea up to her room when someone knocked three times on the front door. Wary of late-night visitors, Sabere, knife in hand, cracked the door open just large enough to see a tall, slender Asian woman, wrapped in a sleek coat and hat against the snow.

"Oh dear. I was hoping someone familiar would answer," she sighed with a cultured British accent.

"I'm sorry, who…?"

"Please, they must have told you I was coming." The woman cocked a thin eyebrow. Sabere was flabbergasted.

"Well, um, we haven't exactly had many visitors lately – "

"Betsy!" Sabere turned to see Xavier rolling down the hallway in pajamas and a dressing-gown, and the woman took advantage of her distraction to push the door open and duck delicately under her arm into the foyer while kicking the door closed behind her. Reflexively, Sabere threw the blade across her throat, but the woman seized her wrist –

"Gently now, Betsy, her shoulder's just now healed up." Xavier was smiling. The woman, Betsy, returned with a dazzling smile and released Sabere, who cautiously returned her knife to its sheath.

"Sabere, I'd like to introduce one of our foreign colleagues, Elizabeth Braddock, or Psylocke. We met several years ago when Betsy considered teaching at the Institute, but she's had better things to do."

Betsy extended a slender hand, but Sabere was no longer fooled by this graceful beauty – the grip of that hand had hidden power. "It is a pleasure, and I'm sorry my arrival took you by surprise – I would have though they news of reinforcements would be sung with trumpets from the balconies of this mansion."

"You came earlier than expected," Xavier answered.

"There are others coming?" Sabere asked, feeling the unfamiliar but very welcome thrill of hope.

"Wait and see," Xavier smiled.

-----

Breakfast the next morning was probably the happiest time the mansion had seen in months. Betsy, their first of apparently several saviors, sat with casual grace at the kitchen counter, surrounded by the men of the X-Men. Scott, Jean, and Storm all seemed to know her, and the four mostly chatted about what had been going on since they had last met. Sabere lounged against the refrigerator, wondering vaguely if Logan would pursue her; who else would be coming; what was Psylocke's power anyway? Her bewitching and exotic beauty was powerful enough, but she doubted Xavier's plan was to seduce Apocalypse. No, Betsy had a power she kept well-hidden; as a fighter, she recognized the power of Betsy's grip when Sabere had tried to restrain her, and knew the beautiful woman was obviously a well-trained warrior.

Sabere watched carefully when Kurt finally arrived – Betsy's reaction to him would be Sabere's final test. To her surprise, the woman seemed hardly surprised to see him.

"You must be the Incredible Nightcrawler," she said with a smile, standing to shake his hand. Sabere hid a smile at the thunderstruck expression on Kurt's face. He recovered quickly, hastily shaking her hand and releasing it cautiously.

"Ja, ja, uh, I am he. Kurt. And…you…?"

"Betsy. I've come to help."

"And what is it you do?"

A pink glow emerged from Betsy's wrist and flashed into the vague shape of a knife. Smiling, she picked an apple out of the center bowl and, with several smooth motions of her wrist, let it fall in slices back to the table. "I'm also telekinetic and something of a martial arts expert."

Scott snorted. "She's the best fighter you'll ever encounter."

"So me putting a knife to your throat probably wouldn't have stopped you from entering the mansion?" Sabere asked, feeling a little foolish.

"I'd say so. Goodness, I agreed to call my brother at ten – must run." Besty winked and sidled out of the room. Eyes followed her in silence until she was gone, then met awkwardly.

"Well…she's…" Logan fumbled.

"Beautiful," agreed the other men in the room.

"Why doesn't she stay here?" Sabere asked, sliding into Betsy's chair.

"Xavier met her in England when we were all still training," Scott began. "When Xavier started here it was just the three of us. Once we really understood Xavier's goals and had a handle on our own powers, the four of us went around the world meeting up with some of Xavier's friends, finding allies, trying to spread the word of the school we had here."

"So the Institute is that new?"

"You're going to make us feel old," Jean grinned.

"We all came here as children," Storm added. "Jean was about twelve when Xavier found her, and Scott arrived the next year – he was fourteen then?" Scott nodded distantly, frowning at memories. "And I was only ten when Xavier rescued me from Egypt…"

She faltered and Sabere looked at the floor. Scott cleared his throat and hastily continued. "The Institute is twenty years old. We've met plenty of other mutants, like Hank and Betsy, who are doing their own thing in association with Xavier. Apparently some of these have been called to help out."

They sat in silence, the glow from Betsy's lighthearted beauty gone. Beast lumbered in and raised eyebrows at them all.

"Reinforcements are coming. You can stop worrying for a day or so – it'd be good for you." He took three mugs out of the cupboard, filled them all with coffee, and crouched on top of a barstool to drink. "Unless Xavier has told you about his headaches."

"What?"

Hank sighed. "He didn't want to tell you – I encouraged him to, since you're all practically family, and now more than ever we need unity. But I guess he didn't want to listen…anyway, he's been having headaches for the past month or so. They're worst when he wakes up and whenever he tries to use Cerebro, and I think he's having lots of trouble with his telepathy. He can't focus sometimes."

Scott shook his head. "He said he needed me to drive him to the doctor tomorrow, but he didn't say why – I thought it was just routine."

"Hopefully he'll explain himself en route," Hank said wryly, draining his second mug. "Until then…you didn't hear it from me."

Someone knocked a cheerful rhythm on the front door. Hank beamed and leaped down from his stool. "That'll be Remy."

"You brought Gambit here?" Storm asked in alarm, but Hank was already out the door. Storm and Jean both groaned.

"Is he a problem?" Sabere asked cautiously.

"If you thought Logan was a flirt, you ain't seen nothin' yet," Scott sighed. "If it's young, female, and has an empty ring finger, Remy will try to get in bed with it. He's harmless, but…determined. Sabere, make it immediately clear to him that you are unavailable or you'll never see the end of it."

Sabere nodded, wondering if she should be worried. Thumping footsteps echoed in the main hallway, and a man's voice shouted, "Hey, mes amis, guess who's back!"

"Remy darling!" Betsy's feet pattered swiftly down stairs, and the man entered the kitchen with Betsy's arms around his shoulders.

One glance told Sabere that Remy was probably successful in luring most of his conquests to bed. He was slender and handsome, wearing a beaten brown trenchcoat over jeans, sturdy boots, and a tight black t-shirt. His neatly trimmed beard contrasted with an untamed shock of brown hair that fell into his eyes – his eyes! She did a double-take and had to hide her shock – his eyes were entirely black, with red pupils. Remy slid Betsy away to give Scott a back-slapping hug, shake hands with Logan, and kiss both Jean and Storm repeatedly on the cheeks and hands. He turned his eyes on Sabere and she tried not to jump. She tried to focus on his dazzling smile while Scott introduced her.

"Enchanté, cherie," he murmured, bending low over her hand and kissing it lightly. She glanced at Kurt, hoping this wasn't going to start another rift, but he was bent double with silent laughter.

"Remy? She's taken." Scott grinned and leaned back in his chair.

The red eyes were full of mock despair as Remy looked up. "Ah, cherie, I shoulda known a woman of your beauty could not go unclaimed. Who's de lucky lad?"

"Well I'm not claimed, per se, I mean I'm not engaged, but I'm seeing someone – " she fumbled. Kurt stepped forward, smiling. "I am the one lucky enough to have her love."

Gambit whirled around. His surprise at Kurt's appearance didn't last long – in fact, he seemed thrilled to have someone else around who looked even odder than he did. Kurt extended a two-fingered hand and Gambit shook it heartily. "I am Kurt Wagner, but in the Munich Circus – "

"Ah! I saw you on de news! You're de guy who's always pokin' at de government! Well done!" He shook Kurt's hand furiously while Kurt gave a confused little smile. Beaming, Gambit turned to the rest of the group. "So who else is gonna join this merry little party?"

"We're expecting two others, and two of our students recently graduated to become full X-Men. Combined we'll have fifteen…" Hank frowned, remembering casualties. "Well, thirteen…fourteen if you count Xavier."

"Fourteen to five ain't bad," Gambit said quietly. "Granted, I've seen what dis Apocalypse fellow is capable of, but we're all good fighters and we got a cause. We'll be okay, yep?"

Sabere nodded. It'll be nice to have some of our allies going into battle not knowing they're going to die. Their hopes will be up for a reason. "Sure."