Disclaimer - We don't own any Marvel characters that you recognize. We are writing about them because we like them. There may be a small handful of OC's in this story as plot devices to move it along. If you wanna use 'em, help yourself, just let us know so we can read about our characters.

Also - I know, I'm bad. I said that this chapter would've been posted a while back. Honestly, I wasn't happy with a few things in it. It was originally about half the length it is now. So I added a lot to it. Fixed some stuff up. Yeah. It's probably the longest chapter yet. The story kiiiinda started out slow (I admit) but as more of the plot is being fleshed out as we go along, its getting easier to write about. So, to save you from any further ramblings of mine, here is the next chapter, as promised.

Chapter 4 - by Paradox Jast

Spring, 1993

"Hello, Mr. Lebeau. I'm sorry to bother you. My name is Charles Xavier. Do you have a few moments to spare so that we may discuss something?"

Jean-Luc leaned forward over his desk, placing one arm on it for support. "I have a few moments, certainly. But before we begin, if y' could tell me how y' managed t' get dis number?"

There was a light chuckle from the other end of the phone. "I just happen to have many contacts. Some of which are in the government. I happened to get your number from S.H.I.E.L.D., if you must know. I told Colonel Fury that it was rather important for me to get in touch with you."

Jean-Luc settled back in his chair, his curiousity piqued. He never followed through with calling Xavier previously when he had been given his number. Yet, strangely enough, here was Xavier, calling him instead. On top of that, Xavier got his number from the government, which could only mean that he was a very powerful individual.

"Well, Mr. Xavier, since y' claim it's important, y' got my undivided attention."

"Very well, but please, call me Charles."

"Alright den, Charles. T' what do I owe dis call?"

Xavier didn't reply for a second, probably preparing himself for a speech. "As you are most certainly aware by now, your son has developed some rather unique talents. He is not the only one who has developed such gifts."

Jean-Luc snorted. "Gift? Pardon, but I wouldn' call blowin' up everythin' y' touch a 'gift'."

"Yes, it would seem that way. But that is because there is a lack of control over his gift." Xavier replied, without missing a beat. "As I was saying a moment ago, your son is not the only one who has this capability. While I have yet to see two powers that are exactly identical, in nearly every case all it takes is learning control to master each individual's respective ability. I have an Institution where I help these unique individuals to learn to control their abilities. I'm extending an invitation for you to come see the school with your son, take a look around, and see if perhaps you would like him to come here to learn to control his gift."

Jean-Luc pondered the offer for a few moments, allowing silence to settle over the conversation briefly. "I appreciate y' offer Charles. However, my boy has recently seen a doctor, and was given some medication to cure his ailment..."

"Your son's gift cannot be 'cured', Mr. LeBeau."

"... and be dat as it may, he no longer has any symptoms. It is completely under control now."

"I see. While I am interested to know how this came about, I will not press you for details." Jean-Luc heard Xavier let out a sigh over the phone. "Should you happen to change your mind about this, or if something should happen in the future, feel free to contact me at any time. The invitation will always remain, regardless."

"T'anks. I'll definitely keep y' in mind."

"Very well. Thank you for your time, Mr. Lebeau. Goodbye."

"G'bye." Jean-Luc hung up the phone, then leaned back in his chair again. So his son wasn't the only one. But how many people could have touched that Gem? No matter - Remy was cured now, so there was no longer a problem.

He got up from his chair and walked over to a nearby file cabinet. Opening it, he started rummaging around inside for the necessary paperwork for Remy's final test. It had to go together with his official membership papers. As much as he hated any sort of paperwork, he understood that it was a necessary evil in life. While the Guild tried to keep most things on portable electronic devices these days, paper was looked at as being more 'official'. Jean-Luc had the impression the Council members just liked seeing their names signed on important documents.

His office was what he liked to call an 'organized mess'. There was a place for everything - usually. The desk was always immaculate, in case he had important guests or clients arrive at a moments notice. As for the file cabinets, he could usually find what he needed within a minute. However, because of the recent phonecall, his mind was wandering.

"Come on, Luc, concentrate." he muttered to himself.

After several minutes of searching and a few muttered curse words later, Jean-Luc settled back into his chair once again. Grabbing a pen off his desk to fill out the necessary information, his thoughts couldn't help but wander back to his earlier conversation with Xavier. Deep down, he had a feeling he's be talking to the man about his offer someday. Something just didn't sit right with him in regards to Essex. But those were thoughts for another time.

He looked down at the paper in front of him and started to fill in the blanks.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Two Weeks Later

Remy walked back into the training room. The part of the roof that had an open top for 'environmental training' let the cool, damp spring air in. His father brought him to one of the Guild's training safehouses so he could oversee the final stages of Remy's training in a more private, controlled environment. Today was his final test. Had a hard time sleeping last night, was too excited for today. Now my nerves are getting to me; my fingers are tingling, and its not from my power.

Looking down at his hands, he closed them into fists and opened them again. My power hasn't kicked in since I started taking the medication. It works, but I feel slow. His movements weren't as fast as they were before. He'd been feeling awkward during these last few weeks of training but couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. One thing he could definitely feel that was missing was his knack for knowing where things were. Things that moved, anyway. It was almost as if he could feel any objects that were moving around him, and he could tell where they were going. For some reason, his equilibrium was also thrown off a bit. Falling over in training is bad enough, but falling up the stairs is altogether embarassing. I wonder if Papa has noticed. I'm sure he has, not much happens without him being aware of it one way or another.

The air had a slight chill on top of the feeling of heavy moisture, but his clothing was light. He started moving his arms around in a windmill motion, followed by stretching out his legs. The damp, heavy air would make it slightly harder to breathe when he started really getting into it, so he was taking deep breaths to prepare his lungs before the rigorous final training session began. I've GOT to do this today! I really don't feel like another year of training before I get another chance to prove my skill.

Remy's thoughts were interrupted as the door to the training room opened, and his father walked in wearing his personal body armor. Correction, just the chest and shin guards.

His father looked around the room, closing the door behind him. He turned to Remy and gave him a quick nod. "Ready?"

Remy frowned. "Where's Madam Moinet? I thought she was doin' my final session."

Jean-Luc shook his head. "I requested t' do y' final test. She's standin' in de hallway, lookin' through de observation glass. We just swapped positions."

Well THIS is going to be interesting. I bet he's doing this on purpose, thinking I'd have too easy a time against Madame Moinet in a spar. He's right of course, but still... Remy shrugged.

"I guess we should get dis show on de road den." Remy walked over to the nearby wall, pulling his beat up staff off the rack. He looked it over, noticing all the scratches and indents along it from all the previous practice sessions. If I pass my test today, I'm gonna have to ask Papa for a new staff. Stepping back into the middle of the room he gave his father a brief once over, examining his posture for an opening weakness. Finding none, he gradually let his posture fall into a defensive stance and brought his staff up diagonally in front of him.

His father chuckled and took a small step towards him with a smirk. "Dieu, y' remind me so much of m'self, lookin' at y' now."

Remy let the corners of his mouth curl up in a small smile, but didn't reply. He watched his father gradually slip into stance in front of him. Taking the initiative, he quickly brought his staff around and down...

But not fast enough. His father brought his staff up, connecting. Deftly readjusting his grip, he brought the staff back, preparing to swipe it at his fathers midsection, but once again Jean-Luc was faster. Remy felt a sting on the side of his calf as his father's staff clipped his leg. Grunting slightly, Remy tried to continue his swing and only glanced his father's chestplate as the elder man gracefully leaned back just far enough.

"Comon' Remy, I've seen y' in action before. I know y' better dan dis."

Clenching his jaw, Remy leapt toward his father. He brought his staff down from overhead again, trying to get a routine started. Once again, his father blocked his attempt. Remy felt his arms shudder slightly as the staves connected, sending vibrations down his spine. Trying to switch it up a bit, he pushed down hard against the opposing weapon but it didn't budge, considering his father was easily stronger than he was. Instead of pulling back, he reversed pressure, pulling the top of the staff away from Jean-Luc and swinging the back end forward. Its a cheap shot, but I need to get the upper hand! Jean-Luc saw it coming, however, and managed to get his staff to parry the attack just in time to block the low blow.

"Hey, dat woulda hurt!" Jean-Luc stepped back, squinting at Remy.

"Y' told me t' do what I need t' win... in a real fight, it wouldn' matter so long as I win."

His father pondered this for a second, then nodded and swung his staff around at Remy, trying to catch him offguard. Remy barely caught the attack with his staff in time, and as a result a loud metal clang! bounced briefly around the room. He took a step back, momentarily knocked off balance, flexing his fingers around the staff. The tips of his fingers were tingling from the force of the impact.

"I could've had you right dere, Remy. What's goin' on?"

Growing frustrated, Remy took a step back, bracing himself and starting up momentum for a sweep. Bringing his staff around, he twirled it for a moment, then swung it low with all he could muster, and simply pushed.

Remy felt his arms and hands warm up, and suddenly felt... alive? He was able to 'feel' his fathers presence in front of him. His fathers eyes opened wide for a moment after their staves connected once again. Remy noticed that his staff seemed to be glowing a faint magenta, but he didn't pay it any attention. He was too busy concentrating on trying to win.

Even though the staves had connected with each other again, Remy let his momentum carry him. He planted the end of his staff down on the ground near where his father blocked his last move, then leaped up. Sliding his hands up towards the top of his staff, he pushed off from it, adding to the height of his leap. With the extra boost, he flew over his father's shoulder before the man even registered what Remy had done.

Landing in a crouch then turning slightly, he pulled his staff around in another sweep, catching his fathers ankles. The action swept Jean-Luc's feet out from under him, but as he fell backward the elder thief planted his hands on the ground behind him, compressed his body like an accordion, then pushed off the ground and flipped back up onto his feet.

Before his father could totally regain his balance, Remy brought his bo-staff back up in one swift motion, hitting Jean-Luc's staff on its far end. He saw his fathers grip loosen a little bit, so he brought the back end of his staff up from behind him, over his head, and down on top of the opposing weapon. There was another loud clang! as metal hit metal, then a soft thump as his father's staff fell from his grip to the training room floor. A one-hundred eighty degree twist and small flourish later, Remy had the side of his staff pressed against his father's chest.

He grinned. "Gotcha."

His father smiled. "So y' did. And in record time t'. Congratulations. However..." Jean-Luc's smile died and he pointed toward the ground while taking a few steps backwards. He grabbed Remy's staff with his other hand and pulled him back as well.

Remy looked where his father was pointing, and gasped in suprise. The soft glow he saw earlier finally registered in his mind. An awkwardly shaped splotch on the ground was glowing where his staff had briefly touched the floor. No more than a few seconds after he registered what the pink spot on the floor was, it exploded - sending bits of charred leather and padding all over the room.

Father and son turned away and covered their heads right before the explosion. It wasn't big enough to do a lot of harm, but the room was going to smell bad for a while. Bits of smoking padding were falling to the ground around them. Remy turned to face his father, speechless. His face was devoid of any coloring.

"... y' eyes glowed for a moment dere Remy. I mean really glowed, from within. Was right before y' planted y' staff on de ground and sent de charge int' it. Seems t' me like y' powers are returnin'."

Remy still looked shocked but nodded, color slowly returning to his face. "I figured. De fight went from really tough, t' sort of... well... easy. I think, all dis time, my powers were boostin' my own abilities somehow. Blowin' things up isn' de only thing I have." Remy waved one of his hands, gesturing to the area around himself. "I could feel things movin' in the room when dey came back, so I knew where y' were gonna be before y' landed just a bit ago. Right now, de area around us is a bit..." Remy looked up at the ceiling, gesturing randomly with his hands as he was trying to find the word, "... fuzzy, I guess. Because of all de debris."

He paused. "Are dey still glowin'?"

His father raised an eyebrow. "Y' eyes? Non."

Remy looked even more crestfallen. "Bummer. Dat would've been neat."

A chuckle. "Kids." Jean-Luc shook his head. "Dat move was quite de gambit, if y' eyes didn' distract me, den y' left y'self quite open for a moment dere. But if y' eyes had dat effect on me, dey probably would for anyone y' go up against. Y' might need a few more lessons from Madam Moinet, just to make sure y' get de finer points of bojutsu."

Gambit, neh? I like that. Still need more lessons though? Ugh. "I still got ya, Papa."

"Dat y' did. Can' deny dat. I'll talk to Madame Moinet about de session, and we'll let y' know our decision about y' test soon." He grinned briefly, then replaced it with a serious look. "But y' better go outside as soon as y' can and check t' see just how much of y' powers are back. When was de last time y' took de medicine?"

"Right before dis."

Jean-Luc winced. "Dat not good." He reached down to pick up his staff, then gestured for Remy to move along. "Better get goin', I'll clean up what I can in here."

Remy nodded and promptly left the room without further comment. Jean-Luc listened and faintly heard his son talking to Madame Moinet outside before silence surrounded him.

He placed his son's staff back on the rack, and examined his own. It had several scratches on it, but he rarely ever needed to use it. He thought it was in pretty good condition, considering he'd had it since his father Jaques had given it to him... a long time ago. But that wasn't what he needed to be thinking about right now. Gripping the metal staff tightly and sighing, he looked around the room. There was a small hole in the padded area of the training room that the roof covered, and burnt pieces of leather and padding were scattered around it. He'd have to get someone in here to come clean it up.

Stepping out into the hallway, he was greeted by Madame Moinet.

"Gettin' old, LeBeau?"

Jean-Luc grinned brightly at Moinet. "Dat I am, and with Remy beatin' me in record time, it must be showin', neh?"

Moinet smiled, clucking her tongue lightly and shaking her head. "I don' know how de boy did it, but it looked like y' were gonna whip him good. I thought I saw somethin' happen with de boy's staff, and den watched him hop around like a monkey with a sugar high. He tagged you fast, Luc, and dat's sayin' somethin'. I saw dat explosion too... de boy's power is back?"

Jean-Luc nodded. "Yes, apparently. I sent him outside just in case, so he can test dem t' see how bad dey are. He still beat me fair though. He thinks it be his powers dat give him increased agility, since he started doin' real well once dey kicked in. I guess he wasn' totally aware dat dey did 'til after de test, since he didn' even know he made de floor glow 'til I pointed it out."

With a nod, followed by a small bow to the Guildmaster, she started to back away. "Well, all things considered, I think de boy is good enough with or without his powers. A little rusty without dem, but excellent with dem. By my judgement, he passed de test. Assuming by your look of pride when y' watched him leave de room, and y' current smile with what I'm sayin', y' agree with me. So with y' permission I'm gonna go tell Remy he passed, and give him his new gear."

"T'anks, Moinet. Also, would y' tell him t' come see me in about two hours, please?" He brought two fingers up to his forehead and gave her a small, polite salute of dismissal. He was glad she was here, she was always quick with her decisions and prompt with her executions of them.

"Very well."

With that, she turned away and walked briskly down the hall. Jean-Luc turned around to go in the other direction. He was proud of Remy, of that there was no doubt. But he was also scared for Remy's safety, considering the pills from Essex didn't seem to be working anymore. Because of this, he knew he had a phone call to make.

"I wonder what de tuition is like for dis school o' Xavier's..."

He grumbled to himself as he entered his office, thinking that he'd have to dig around in the cabinets again to find out where he put that blasted phone number.

In case you've been wondering, Remy in this story (well, in 1992) was 11 years old. In the previous chapter, Feb 22nd was declared his birthday (for this story). So in this chapter, he is now 12. Just letting ya know.

- PdJ