Chapter 9
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Marie shrieked.
"Remy, put me down!" She tried to scold him but couldn't hold in her laughter as he spun her around in the air. Finally he lowered her back to the floor of the crowded bar, they held each other, and they danced, spinning and whirling to the fantastic live band and bumping shoulders with the couples around them. Marie could feel the alcohol buzzing lightly through her veins, her head felt pleasantly faint, and Remy's gorgeous eyes never left hers. He gave her the smile that was hers alone, and she laughed joyfully.
It was a good night.
The song ended and they cheered and clapped, then came back together for the slow number that followed. Marie wrapped her arms tightly around Remy's neck, her gaze wavering between his intense eyes, his lips, and the open vee of his dress shirt. God, he was sexy. Sexy, and beautiful.
"I want to kiss you right now," she told him.
"So why don't you?"
"I don't want to embarrass you. I know how you like to keep a low profile in public." His mouth widened into his trademark grin.
"I am a little shy. I'll try to be brave, though, if you'll be gentle with me."
"OK. I'll take it slow." She slowly, slowly rose on her tiptoes to kiss him, taking her sweet time in reaching his lips. Finally he grabbed the back of her head and pulled her forward until they kissed.
They kissed for a damn long time. Shyness wasn't something that plagued either of them, although sometimes Marie thought they could probably use a little.
When the set was over they bought more drinks and Remy led them, inevitably, back to the card tables. She liked to watch him play—he usually won—and she kept him well supplied with beer while he did. Sometimes she would sit on his lap or drape herself over his shoulders, proud to be his accessory. When that got boring she was happy to entertain herself, scoring free drinks from men at the bar and dancing when she felt like it. Life had never been this free or fun with Bobby. It hadn't been fun at all since the day she'd followed Logan out of that boxing hall. Remy brought this part of life back to her, reminded her of the wild-child she had once been, and like everything else about him, it felt like coming home.
Marie walked up behind him and gave him a peck on the cheek. He had a terrible hand of cards. He looked up at her and smiled.
"Drinks for the whole table!" he shouted, and the three men and one woman in his poker game all hurrahed and thanked him. One of them folded shortly thereafter.
Remy would probably win. As much as he won, he was so generous and told such entertaining stories that most people didn't mind when he fleeced him. He was that likeable.
They finally left the bar in the wee hours of the morning. Neither of them had totally sobered up so they stumbled a little and giggled foolishly.
"I can't make it any further," she panted, laughing, after they had taken only two steps from the bar. She fell back against the outside wall. As she had hoped, Remy was on her within seconds.
"I love this thing," he said into her ear, fingering her black pleated miniskirt. "I love how every man's eyes follow you in it, but only I get to touch you."
"Oh, Remy, you're such a romantic," she smirked as he kissed her. She squirmed happily as he gripped her thigh. "Home is way too far away."
"I'll tell you what we do," he said, and suddenly he slumped heavily against her. She shrieked with laughter.
"What, right here?" He didn't respond. "Remy?" she pushed him back a little and he fell to the ground, unconscious. "Remy!" she screamed, falling to the pavement next to him. "Remy, wake up!" Then she saw what had happened: three tiny darts had lodged into the side of his neck. "No, no," she chanted, and frantically reached for her cell phone. The only thing she could think to do was call for help.
The purse was snatched from her hands faster than she could see. When she looked up, a tall, blonde woman in a blue dress stood over her, and just behind her, Marie's purse in hand, was the small woman who could only be Gargouille. Marie crouched over Remy protectively.
"Stay away from him," she said in a low voice. "You don't want to do this. He's an X-Man, and we'll come after you with everything we've got if you hurt him."
"What's this 'we' you speak of?" The blonde marched over to her and grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her to her feet. Marie held in her cry of pain and lashed out, but the woman whipped out a knife and held it to her throat. "Gargouille, tie him up with the inhibitors," she said commandingly, her eyes never leaving Marie's face. "You talk of 'we' like you're one of the X-Men, but look at you. You're useless. You stand here and do nothing while we take your little boyfriend away. Aren't you ashamed to be so weak?"
Marie looked away to see Gargouille dragging Remy to a nearby car. She struggled slightly but the blonde pressed the knife deeper against her throat. Marie snarled at her.
"Did you attack us just so you could give me a lecture? Or is boring me to death your best weapon?"
"You should be embarrassed. You may be human but you could still fight. When I became human I taught myself to fight in this body, to use weapons. You are content to be helpless, dead weight for others to support. You're pathetic." She shoved Marie away. Marie hated her but knew she was right. She had a lot to make up for.
"Take me, too," she called to the woman, who had walked away. She turned to look back. "I can't leave him. I can't stop you. So take me with you."
"She'll be a handicap," Gargouille said from the car.
"She'll be a hostage," the blonde disagreed. "Tie her up with whatever you have." She turned again and went to the car; Marie stood still, useless and hopeless, as Gargouille roughly blindfolded her, bound her hands, and shoved her into the backseat on top of Remy.
They were in what must be a small room, based on the echoes of their movements. Gargouille and the blonde—formerly Mystique, as Marie had shockingly learned—dumped them on the floor.
"Search the girl," Mystique said in her terse way. "I'll search him."
"Search for what? We were out for a night on the town; we didn't exactly come armed." Gargouille ignored her as she patted down every inch of Marie's body, even reaching into her underwear. "If you wanted to cop a feel you could've just asked. Rémy and I have an open relationship."
"Shut up," Gargouille said in her gravelly voice before finally moving away. "She hasn't got it."
"Nor has he." Mystique sounded uncharacteristically annoyed. "Kill him."
"What?" Marie and Gargouille exclaimed at the same time. "Mystique, that was never part of the plan."
"He is of no use to us now. We've got to go to the school and get it ourselves; it must be there."
"We don't have to kill him; why not leave him here with the rest of them?" Mystique answered before Marie could figure what Gargouille meant.
"He's dangerous."
"He's bound with inhibitors! Mystique, don't do this."
"Gargouille, you swore to follow me. Kill him."
"I won't." Marie took that as her cue. Hopping awkwardly to her feet, she barreled forward headfirst in the direction of Mystique's voice. She connected with her torso and sent them both tumbling to the floor.
"Gargouille, help me!" Marie yelled, irrationally hoping that the woman would take her side.
Miraculously, she did. Mystique threw Marie off but she heard Gargouille speed over and attack Mystique. There was a scuffle and Marie, blindfolded, could do nothing but listen.
It was over in a minute, and she heard someone being tied up with rope. Marie's heart plummeted when she heard Mystique speak.
"You promised me your emotions wouldn't get in the way of your work."
"You never said we would kill him," Gargouille panted. "I never agreed to that. You know he was once my friend."
"Like friendship means anything to you? I don't have time for this. If you two want to team up against me, I'll leave you both here to enjoy each other's company." She grabbed Marie's bound hands and dragged her backwards, painfully, across the floor. Marie felt her hands being tied to rough, tiny fists, and knew that Mystique was tying her and Gargouille together. "Have fun, ladies," Mystique snarked, then slammed a door closed and locked it behind her.
"She didn't hurt Rémy, did she?"
"No. He's right in front of me, and he looks fine. Besides the unconscious thing."
"Why didn't she kill him?"
"I'm not sure, but…. I—I think because of me."
"What?"
"That's Mystique's way. She pretends she has no mercy, but it isn't true. I think she spared him for my sake."
"Right after she fought you and tied you up?"
"She's angry. But she'll forgive me. She would have killed him if she truly saw me as an enemy now. Believe me, it's not the first time we've fought."
They sat in silence for what felt like hours. As uncomfortable as it had been lying tied up and blindfolded on the floor, it was worse being back-to-back with Gargouille. The strange woman was too short to lean back against so Marie couldn't quite relax. Plus anytime one of them fidgeted or moved, the other was disturbed.
"Ow," Gargouille said at one point. "These ropes are starting to hurt."
"Really? I don't feel anything."
"You're lucky. I keep getting this—ow—this stinging thing. You don't feel that?"
"No. but I do have to pee." Gargouille snickered in amusement.
"You better hold it in, girl. This place smells bad enough with the two of them passed out." Marie suddenly remembered Mystique's earlier words about 'the rest of them.'
"The two of who? Who else is in here, besides Remy?"
"Your buddy Nightcrawler is lying about five feet to your right. He's been here for days. At least he has a mattress, unlike us. I told you Mystique could be kind." Marie shivered at the thought that someone had been lying so close to her without her knowledge. She hated being blindfolded.
"Is there anyone or anything else in here I should know about?"
"Just our friend Hammerhead. Big guy, hard head. He's keeping watch over by the door. Been looking at you a lot, too."
"What?" she cried, feelingly instantly vulnerable. A raspy sound from behind her caught her attention, and she realized Gargouille was laughing. "Oh, very funny."
"Sure is. 'What?'" she imitated Marie in falsetto. "Got you good. No, there's no one else in here. Just the four of us."
"Thanks… bitch," Marie added in a mumble.
"Right back at you."
"So when is Remy going to wake up? What did you dose him with?"
"Just a basic fast-acting tranquilizer. He should be up again after a couple of hours; I think he's just being lazy. Won't do us any good, though. I did a nice job tying him up. Plus those are inhibitor ropes, so he won't be able to flash any of his pretty death cards."
"Are these inhibitor ropes?"
"No, Mystique didn't bother. I don't have the kinds of powers that could help us escape, and you don't have any at all. It's weird, though," she added faintly, fidgeting some more, "they keep giving me this burning feeling."
"Aren't you supposed to be super-strong? Can't you just tear us free?"
"Gee, you're right!" she replied in a voice rich in sarcasm. "Why didn't I think of that? Obviously not," she went on. "This rope can support 15 tons of weight, so believe me, it can resist any force I might exert." Marie slumped, feeling depressed. She wished she were more resourceful, could think of a way to get them out of this. But like Mystique had said, she was pretty useless.
"What do you think Mystique'll do with us when she comes back?"
"Oh, you never know with her. I don't expect she'll kill you, though. She kind of likes you."
"What?"
"You say that a lot, have you noticed?"
"What in the hell are you talking about? Mystique likes me?"
"She's always been a little fascinated by you, at least. Ever since she saw your display of power that time Magneto tried to turn all the humans into mutants."
"Oh yeah, 'that time.' That was a barrel of laughs," Marie cut in, annoyed by Gargouille's flippancy.
"Like I was saying, she was impressed. Mystique is drawn to power. Plus it doesn't hurt that you're so close to Wolverine. She's always had a crush on that lout."
"You sound jealous."
"I have every right to be jealous," she said crossly, sounding like it was an argument she'd made many times before. "I don't like the way she looks at him or talks about him. She shouldn't be looking at anyone but me that way."
"You mean—you and Mystique, you're—"
"We're close."
"Oh." It was hard to imagine Mystique in any sort of real relationship. It was even harder to imagine anyone being attracted to Gargouille. But Marie figured those were thoughts she should keep to herself, so she changed the subject. "Well, whatever she thought of me before doesn't matter. Now that I've lost my powers, she thinks I'm a pathetic waste of space."
"Well, your powers'll come back."
"What?"
"There you go again. I said your powers will come back. The cure was temporary."
"You know, Gargouille, I just met you but I'm already sick of your crazy, cryptic statements. What the hell are you talking about now?"
"I'm talking about the cure for the mutant gene that the humans used against us as a weapon and that you stupidly took voluntarily. It doesn't work. It wears off. You think Mystique could've kicked my ass like that if she didn't have her powers back?"
"That's not true! I—"
"Aughh!" Gargouille let out a low, quick scream. "What is that?" This time, Marie felt it too. It wasn't painful, exactly; it was more like an intense wave of sensation. The problem was, it felt eerily familiar.
"I don't know," Marie protested.
"You felt it?"
"Yeah, I did, but…."
"But what? Shit, it—auugghhh!" The feeling lasted longer this time around, and a wave of revitalizing energy washed over Marie. What was paining Gargouille was giving her strength. There was no denying it now.
"Dear god in heaven, I know what it is," she whispered.
"What? What is it?"
"My powers are coming back." There was a beat of silence.
"No. No. Not now. Keep it in, or something!"
"I can't, I can't do anything! I've never been able to control it."
"Get off of me, then!"
"I'm trying!" The pain hit again and Gargouille gasped in agony, but this time it didn't go away. Marie felt them lock together, and she knew that this was it. Her powers were no longer returning; they were already back.
And if she didn't get away from Gargouille soon, she would kill her.
Marie leaned away from her as far as possible and lifted her arms, shaking and waving them back and forth, trying to get some space between them. Gargouille couldn't help at all. She was immobilized, trapped in the pain as Marie drained her life force away. Only Marie could act, and she wasn't strong enough or agile enough or anything enough to separate them. Their hands remained firmly pressed against each other, knuckle to knuckle, and through that barest of contact, Marie stole her life away.
Marie screamed. Gargouille screamed. She couldn't distinguish between the two. She had never touched anyone with her powers for this long, and she was now absorbing far more than her mutant abilities. Memories that didn't belong to Marie flitted across her mind—crouching over a fire for warmth in an abandoned subway tunnel; stealing her best friend's life savings and running off with it; doing tricks on a stage as a girl while her father sold tickets. Marie felt the intensity of her love for Mystique. A rush of heightened senses overwhelmed her and she could suddenly hear the heartbeats of everyone in the room, smell their sweat, and make out the grains of the fabric in the cloth that covered her eyes.
And lastly, she felt the pain of her death. Gargouille's death. Only then did the sensations stop overwhelming her and she regained her sense of self, both mentally and physically.
She was lying on her side; they had tipped over in their struggles to pull apart. Her face was covered in dried tears and she could smell blood where she'd bit her lip.
Gargouille was behind her, dead.
Marie sat up and was startled by how easy it was. She had Gargouille's strength, now. She also had a bit of the woman's shrewdness in her, and she realized she now knew how the rest of them could escape.
Hers was the power of a parasite; she would benefit from the other mutant's death. She was smarter, stronger, faster, with better senses and keener reflexes. Marie scooted backwards across the floor, pushing Gargouille's dead weight effortlessly. When they ran into what had to be Remy's body, she used her legs to turn them around so she could lean against him.
"Remy?" she asked in a frighteningly steady voice. He didn't reply, and she could hear his deep, even breathing. He was definitely still out. By crawling, throwing her legs over his body, and scooting back and forth, Marie maneuvered herself and Gargouille until their hands were on top of Remy's. As disgusted as she felt using her powers again so soon after killing with them, she forced herself to spread her fingers until she could clasp his. He started to shake a little as she sucked his powers away, but she only held on for a few seconds.
Marie pulled away from him and dragged Gargouille behind her again. This would be a delicate operation, and she didn't want to risk setting Remy on fire. When they were far enough, Marie started to manipulate the form of the ropes that bound her, converting them from solid mass into pure kinetic energy. She did it slowly, gently, so that it burned rather than exploded. Her heightened reflexes helped her control the force, and she burned through the ropes one braid at a time. She did it with such finesse that by the time it was thin enough for her to tear through, she hadn't caused any damage to her or Gargouille.
She pulled free of the ropes and ripped the blindfold off, then had to shut her eyes immediately. She opened them again, adjusting to the new world around her. Everything was brighter, more detailed, and richer than she had ever seen it. It was beautiful. This was the world that Gargouille had known.
"Gargouille," she said softly, turning to look at her. She lay inert on the floor, her skin even grayer in death than it had been in life, thanks to the way she died. Marie gently unbound her wrists and crossed them over her chest, then shut her wide, horrified eyes. Her death had not been an easy one, she knew that. She stared down at Gargouille's face a long time, thinking about all the things she knew about her now.
That her father had pretended to love her but treated her as a freak show to earn money. How her mother had died shortly after rescuing her from him. The way she could never believe in a good thing when she had it, and turned on all the people who were good to her. She stole money from the friend who had taken her in. She attacked Gambit, who had once saved her from an angry mob of homophobic Morlocks. And most recently, she'd turned on Mystique, who was the love of her life.
Again and again in her life, Gargouille couldn't resist betraying the people she loved. As if she thought it was better to hurt them before they hurt her. Well, she was at peace now. Marie ran her fingers over her eyebrows and jawline, mourning the mutant who was now a part of her.
A change in breathing and a slight movement from behind her interrupted her reverie. Marie whirled to see that Kurt was stirring, and she zipped over to his mattress.
Marie sat on the edge of one sofa and looked at Gargouille's body, lying on the other. She'd been staring at the dead mutant for over an hour, wondering if she'd ever get over the guilt of having killed her.
Kurt and Remy were gone. She'd sent them back to the school but insisted on waiting for Mystique's return. If Remy had been conscious, he never would have let her stay on her own. But Kurt let her be, not just because he lacked Remy's protectiveness, but because he shared some of Gargouille's faith in Mystique.
"She has treated me mostly well, despite my captivity," he explained. "And we have talked quite a bit. She is a hard woman, but not an evil one. If you wish to stay, I won't stop you." They shook hands and then Kurt latched on to Remy's body and teleported away.
Marie waited.
The men left early in the morning; it wasn't until late that night that Marie heard the click-clack of heels outside the front door and the sound of a key in the lock. She stood up and faced the entrance, folding her hands respectfully.
Mystique entered in human form and stopped when she saw Marie. In an instant, she morphed into her normal blue figure and tensed her body, gearing for a fight.
"I see you made your way out," she said, her voice vibrating with that strange, echoing quality that only manifested in her mutant form. Marie moved forward slowly, not wanting to startle her. "I'm impressed, though I'm sure Gargouille is mostly responsible."
"In a way, yes she was. Mystique, there's something you need to know."
"Stop moving." Marie froze. Mystique's eyes darted around the apartment, scoping out the situation. Gargouille was hidden from her view by the back of the couch.
"You have to listen to me," Marie said as Mystique walked forward.
"I said stop moving."
"Mystique, wait!" It was too late. She reached the seating area and her head snapped down to see Gargouille, clearly dead.
"No," she whispered. When she looked back up, her eyes were full of hatred.
"It was an—" Mystique pounced before she could finish, rearing in the air and raising her arms to smash Marie's head. Marie jumped aside, reaching the other side of the sofas before Mystique even landed.
Mystique stopped, then, and looked at her in astonishment.
"So your powers have returned."
"Yes."
"And you robbed Gargouille of hers, killing her."
"No! Yes—it was an accident. You bound us together, Mystique, and we had no idea my powers were returning until it was too late!" Mystique stilled completely again, only her eyes shifting to fix on Gargouille.
"You're saying this is my fault."
"No," Marie said gently, no longer afraid. "It was no one's fault. You didn't know my powers would return just then—"
"I should have," she cut in. Mystique walked purposefully to the sofa and knelt in front of Gargouille. She ran her fingers over Gargouille's brows and jawline, and Marie recognized the gesture, realizing she had done the same because Gargouille had liked it. "Was it a painful death?"
"It was quick," Marie hedged. "She was small, and not very powerful, if you don't mind my saying. It only took half a minute, maybe."
Mystique didn't respond, just brushed her fingers over Gargouille's face and arms and hands. Marie wasn't sure if she should leave.
"And now you have all her powers?" Mystique looked over her shoulder at Marie.
"Yeah. And a lot of her memories, too."
"Her memories?" Marie nodded.
"I sometimes take on the attributes of people I, um, touch. I've never gotten someone's memories before, though. I guess it's different when—when they die. I have a lot of her memories, and I—I feel a little different, too. Like, I know how she would react to something, and part of me wants to act that way. I think she's the reason I wanted to wait here for you." Mystique just looked at her inscrutably, then turned back to Gargouille. Marie watched, actually feeling sympathy for her enemy, as Mystique gently dropped her forehead atop Gargouille's.
"You can leave."
Marie fled.