A few weeks had past, and already the Ragin' Cajun was acting more like him self. The memory recovery was a slow process, due to the amount of pain and stress it caused his mind. The episodes would last any where from a minute to an hour, but always left him tried and disoriented. He would sleep long hours during the day and then be up roaming the base at night, exploring his surroundings and often getting into mischief. One morning the inhabitants of section A/B found small items in their rooms missing. Before to long there was a line of annoyed yet amused mutants patiently waiting out side of the med lab as Storm and Jean persuaded Remy to give back what he stole.
"Gambit, we know you were just practicing your newly recovered skills, but friends don't steal from friends." Jean scolded in a motherly tone. The other X-Men were gathered around the room, trying not to laugh as Remy innocently stared up at the two and shrugged, shacking his head.
"Remy,……..Please?" Ororo asked softly, stroking his hair. He closed his eyes and purred like a cat at the contact. They had all quickly realized after only a few days just how starved for affection Gambit was, despite still being weary of those around him. When ever they wanted him to do some thing, they would stroke or pat, or hug and he would be far less disagreeable. Xavier explained that empathes sense of touch was heightened, helping them pick up on subtle vibes, no doubt invaluable for a thief's intuition. Gambit stared for a long time into Storms knowing eyes, before finally nodding as if knowing she was a fellow thief. He begrudgingly removed the cover of the heating vent and pulled out a pillow case full of watches, jewelry, wallets and a pack of gum that Ororo held up with a cocked eyebrow, to which he sheepishly grinned and shrugged again, still unable to speak.
As they returned the items to their rightful owners every one agreed there was no harm done, and commented on how truly skilled he was, causing the child like X-Men to beam even more with pride.
"And may I ask Misure LeBeau, why you felt the need to steal all 10 pairs of mah gloves and leave me a half eaten bar of chocolate?" Rouge put her bare hands on her hips with an accusing smile. Remy grinned from ear to ear as he reached for her hands. She begrudgingly allowed him to raise each to his lips.
"It seems he enjoys the ability to touch your skin Rouge." Storm smiled. Rouge blushed and brought her hands up to his face.
"Well what kinda girl would I be if I denied a poor boy the pleasure of my touch, specially after so many years. I don't know why I'm still wearing those silly things anyhow, old habit I guess." She smiled and winked at Remy, glade he still had feelings for her.
She had been worried after a minor mishap that occurred within the first few days of his recovery as she tried to help him take a shower. She had been unconscious when Cooper explained to her team mates about the torturous showers Remy had been subjected to. Unknowingly, she forced him to relive the nightmare through memory as she dragged him struggling into the stall. He managed to escape her grip, running naked in a state of panic out the door and down the hall, crashing strait into Multiple Man and Strong Guy. They held him fast as he twisted and fought, his coordination still off, until finally his brain became overwhelmed and crashed, leaving him in the sluggish, drugged out state, unable to think or even move.
Rouge was there a moment later in a bathrobe, towel in hand, wrapping it around his waist in an attempt to make him more decent. The ruckus had roused all those near by and soon they were in the hall way. It was then, after Rouge explained what happened, that she learned from her team mates about the so called, "showers" he had received while in the care of the General. She was consumed by guilt at the thought of her ignorance triggering such a hostile memory, but Jean assured her he had to remember it some time. Rouge tried to assure Remy she meant him no harm, but when he finally awoke from his semi conscious state, he avoided her like the plague, cowering behind Wolverine for protection. However it wasn't long before she won him back over by slipping him some cyan pepper to put on his consistently bland food that was still being monitored by Hank.
She had even snuck him outside the base one night to go flying. The event, though exhilarating had proven to be a bit much for him to take, sending him into an episode of memory recovery, that lasted nearly an hour. Rouge just held him in her arms as he mumbled jiberish through moans and clenched teeth. Eventually the throbbing in his skull was calmed and his thoughts began to clear. When he finally looked up at Rouge he blinked, as if suddenly recognizing her face, then smiled, a warm and comfortable smile, one he greeted her with every time he saw her, as if finally figuring out the first clue to who he was, and knowing she meant a lot to him.
After a few rounds of trial and error, the X-men finally set up a flexible schedule pertaining to Gambit's recovery. He was allowed to sleep in until he awoke, which was usually a little past noon. Eventually he would make his way down to the kitchen, just in time for lunch, were Hank would serve him a prepared meal, stock full of vitamins, minerals, protean and other essentials that would help him build up strength. When the good Doctor wasn't looking, Logan would slip him a few gulps of beer, and occasionally a shot or two, that would generally leave him in a cheery disposition, and more willing to cooperate with Beasts orders. After lunch, he was escorted to Xavier's office, were together with the help of Jean and occasionally the other telepaths, they would work on his vocal skills and the creation of his empathic shields. This would only last for an hour, sometimes less, as Gambit would get frustrated and become unreasonable and irritated, once throwing his chair against the wall, then crumbling to the floor in despair, unable to communicate with those around him. His next stop was to the Gym, with rotating team mates as spotters and motivators. On most days he was ready for the work out after sitting still in front of Xavier for an hour, but sometimes he felt lazy and unmotivated and so instead, they would skip strait to the memory recovery, every day a little different. Each team mate found ways of triggering memories, and then would stay with him, helping him cope. Almost always after wards he would fall asleep, and would be carried or teleported back to his bed in the med lab.
Hours later he would wake back up, sometimes peacefully, sometimes in the midst of a nightmare. He'd eat dinner, sneaking the cyan pepper Rouge gave him when ever he could. Then the rest of the night was up to him, playing cards, watching T.V, or spending time with Ororo in her garden. They had at first attempted to get him in bed by midnight, but soon realized it was nearly impossible to do. Not only was he up half the night prowling the base, but when he did eventually chose to go to bed, it most often was not his own. Almost every X-man thus far had woken in the wee hours of the morning with the strange sensation of being watched. There would be Gambit, with big round eyes, biting his lip, arms wrapped around him self standing in the door way, waiting to be invited in. Like a stray cat, he was not easily shooed away, and so his team mates would begrudged beckon him in and let him curl up under the blankets. He had never once tried anything and kept to the edge of the bed, just comforted by the presence of another being.
The past few nights he hadn't slept at all, nightmares becoming more and more frequent. The Professor said those too would pass, once he excepted them into his conscious as memory instead of pushing it back into his subconscious. None of the X-Men had gone out of their way to trigger negative memories, afraid to cause him pain, but it had happened a few times on accident, leaving every one on edge. The most recent being Logan smoking a cigar. He had walked past the Cajun, patting him on the back after smoking a cigar out side. The subtle sent resonated off of his cloths and triggered a fear driven response from Gambit, who jumped back against the wall clutching his head as images of a hideous man with cold gray eyes popped into his head. The General loomed over him, with his cigar inches from Remy's flesh, a sadistic smile on his face. He then took the end of his cigar and held it down on Gambit's neck, laughing as the hot embers burned through the mutant's skin drawling out a hiss from his clenched teeth. The memory flash was only a moment, but it left Gambit shacking, curled up on the floor, wet eyes blinking in shock. Cyclops, Iceman and Wolverine were all crouched around him, calmly calling out his name. They had learned early on not to reach for him after such a negative memory. A few moments later Jean and Emma appeared, easing his weary mind into a restless slumber, after which projecting the latest horror to be remembered into the minds of those gathered as was the routine so that they would be aware of what triggers to avoid. Once Wolverine experienced it through his own eyes, he left with a growl, needing to exercise his claws. Scott and Bobby just sighed with empathy for their friend then took him to the med lab to rest.
It was decided that Gambit should remember how to defend him self, as a way to help him feel more secure. Xavier knew that Remy hated to feel helpless, and would become more confidant and sure of him self if he knew how powerful he truly was. Hank had advised against it, worried that he would become over stimulated, but in the end he reluctantly agreed. The next morning the X-Men gathered in one of the large empty rooms they used for training, Gambit leaned against the wall, eyeing them suspiciously. Wolverine had agreed to be his sparing partner, and recommended that they both dress out in uniform. As the Canadian approached, he extended his hand to Gambit, to assure him there was no harm meant. Remy, shook it, with one eyebrow cocked, unsure what was happening. Wolverine then, lightly slapped the side of Gambit's head, grinning as he backed away. Remy's brow knitted in confusion, but when Logan advanced again, he dodged out of the way. He smiled as Wolverine chuckled at the fact he missed him, helping him relies it was a sort of game. Gambit had remembered in his past episodes of memory recovery that he was somehow part of this team, that they fought together against others like them selves, mutants. Although he was still unsure of what a mutant was and what that meant. As he took turns dodging and striking at Logan, his grin grew border, his adrenalin rising. When Logan advance once more he suddenly felt the erg to flip over the shorter man, which he did with great ease, landing on his feet in a crouch, spinning with grace as he swept out his opponents legs, bringing Wolverine crashing to the ground. The others all gasped, and Rouge clapped her hands in delight, running to Remy and kissing him on the cheek. Cyclops helped Wolverine to his feet, who was grumbling in annoyance.
"Wings, what do you say we bump it up a notch?" Wolverine nodded toward Archangel, who responded by approaching Remy with a 12 inch metal wand. He held it out for Gambit to take, who eyed it with caution, examining it before extending his hand. He looked it over as Warren backed away to give him room. Instantly he noticed a small indented button on one end, something most would not recognize. He pushed it in, and jumped as the wand extended into his 4 foot retractable staff. He looked up at the others in surprised, who smiled and nodded reassuringly. Slowly, he began to rotate his wrist, dipping the staff in figure 8's, then slyly switched hands with out braking rhythm. His eyes glowed with intensity, as his speed increased, adrenaline rushing threw him. His mind was shifting into over drive as images flooded his brain. He was moving faster and faster, spinning the staff behind him and striking invisible targets. A thousand battle scenes ran through his head, as his body mimicked the fragments he saw. He flipped and contorted his body, kicking and striking with the staff, a determined expression, on his sweat glistened face.
"He's going too fast, he's becoming overwhelmed!" Beast warned.
"I agree Henry, but to try and stop him now may be dangerous……..I just hope,……" Xavier's voice trailed off, as his eyes grew wide. "Oh, my!"
"Sir, what is it?" Cyclops asked.
"I'm losing control over his powers! Any moment he will…." Before the statement was finished, they saw the familiar glow of Gambit's hands. Sparks of energy were flying off his staff that was glowing with blinding intensity. Gambit was oblivious to this new development, his mind lost in a whirl wind of memories and feelings. His ears were ringing and the metallic taste of blood was in his mouth, but all he knew for sure was that he was losing control and that he felt like his blood was on fire.
"Bishop, try to absorb some of his power, Rouge, try to drain it! Wolverine, Colossus get your hands on him and hold him down before he hurts himself!" Cyclops was shouting orders as they all ducked for cover as more and more sparks of energy flew through the room.
"His mind is in complete chaos! It's too frantic to make any sense!" Jean cried, grasping her head that was now pounding. Bishop grabbed on to the staff, struggling to absorb the energy while Gambit fought back. Then Rouge managed to grab onto the sides of his face, absorbing the strength right out of him. But still he fought back, guttural cries of determination roaring from his throat. Wolverine and Colossus warped him in their arms, forcing him to the ground. Finally his strength was gone, but his eyes were fluttering and he was hyperventilating, blood spilling out his mouth and noise over his lip as his body flailed. Collectively the Telepaths shut down his consciousness, effectively putting him into a shallow coma, as Beast scooped him up into his arms and bolted out the door toward the infirmary, the others hot on his trail.
Hours later, after several tests, Gambit reemerged from the Lab, looking exhausted but with a smile on his face. The first thing he did was run up to each team mate holding out his hands as he practiced charging and unchanging, like a child showing off a new trick. It was obvious to all that he had remembered a great deal, and was acting more and more like his old self. They watched with amusement as he practiced throwing uncharged cards at different targets, still as accurate as he ever was. No longer was his head down, shoulders raised, walking along the edges of the hallway. His steps were sure footed and silent, his stride graceful and confident. He began going off on his own and practicing his acrobatics, doing flips and back hand springs and walking down the hall on his hands, which made for quit a sight. For Rouge, the best part was his firy eyes, no longer filled with fear and mistrust, but passion and a twinkle of mischief. Her heart began to flutter once again instead of ache.