Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Title: Born For Bad Luck

By: Peanutbutter

"Boys I'm most done travellin', Lord I'm at my journey's end

B'lieve I'm most done travellin', Lord at my journey's end

Well I been lookin' for me a good partner, bad luck is my best friend..."

(Born for Bad Luck song by Brownie McGhee)

Chapter 4: Death Bells

Sound like I'm hearing moaning, death bell ringing all in my head

Sound like I can hear moaning, death bell ringing all in my head

Yeah I know that I was gonna leave on a chariot but I didn't know

What kind of chariot gonna take me away from here...

(Death Bells By Lightenin' Hopkins)

Note: Boy this chapter kicked my ass. Nothing came together like I wanted it to. I actually hate this chapter a lot. growl I think I might explode if I read it one more time.

Xavier's School for the Gifted was surprisingly loud. Doors slamming, feet hitting carpet, screaming, running, jumping, laughing. There was almost a beat to the loud life that went on under the roof he was sitting on. It brought a nostalgic grin to his lips as he listened. Kids met in secret, crowded near dark corners and windows. They whispered their promises into the night, never realizing he was hearing their wishes, their confessions, their love. There were a few tears mixed into the air, cries so faint he could barely hear them. Children, hardly old enough to be away from their parents cried for them. There was comfort. In those cries a soft voice calmed them, maybe adult, but something told him it was the other children that did the calming. The mansion was a good place, a wondrous place, because beneath the children, and the laughter, and the comfort was a very high tech facility. The X-men lived and breathed beneath these children and their attempt to be normal. Was it right to gather them to this spot, he wondered? Mostly he wondered if the files he'd stolen were going to stop the laughter, intensify the cries, and bring this musical calm to an unrelentingly chaos.

Absently he pulled the small jump drive out of his pocket and ran his fingers over the square. There was a lot of info in the file. He'd scanned it before downloading the information, something that he usually didn't do. It was best to keep as many secrets between him and his employers as possible, but this time it was different. Rogue had made it different. Waterlogged and crying her hollow eyes still haunted him.

The files were on mutants. He'd only glanced at a couple, but the people he'd come across were deformed by their mutations, spikes growing all over their bodies, hair were it shouldn't be, elongated limbs, huge bodies, tiny ones, sallow skin, huge eyes, multiple limbs. They lived in the sewers under the city, called themselves The Morlocks. Why did Excess want that information? It was too big of a question and the answer promised to be even bigger.

"You set the alarm?"

Shit. Remy pressed shifted to the left hiding himself from view behind one of the roof tiers. By letting his mind wander, he'd put himself in a potentially dangerous situation. When he completed a job he left. He didn't usually hang around waiting for the victims to realize they'd been robbed.

The male voice was joined by another, a woman.

"Yes Logan. I set it. Just like I set it every night. The motion detectors are on line the alarms are on each window. We have an escape plan. We have everything under control."

Remy couldn't help but grin. Sure things were real secure. He had gotten in, little effort, and less trouble. Whoever did their security was an idiot, but a helpful one nonetheless.

"I don't know."

The male was moving around. He was loud, probably heavy bottomed boots on fallen leaves, but something told Remy he was being loud on purpose. His steps were almost clumsy, like he was slamming his feet into the grass with each step. The woman followed her steps lighter, like a breeze rushing across the yard. Remy wasn't really concerned, but as soon as the two went back inside he was leaving, reminiscing on roofs didn't seem worth it at the moment.

There was a quiet sniff, like the man was trying to clear his sinuses but almost politely.

"Rogue been by here today?"

Remy stiffened the hairs on his arm rising as every nerve in his body told him to be on alert. Something was going on with this guy.

The woman's reply was quiet, "No, funny you asked though, she mentioned stopping by, but I never saw her."

"I haven't either." The man walked again, further into the yard, his steps were duller, he was nearly silent before Remy realized the man was walking toward the center of the yard. He could see the top of the roof from the center. Remy flattened himself against the tier. His body started to tingle, he felt trapped even though logic told him he wasn't.

"Somethings off, the air, it's a little..." There was the sound again, but Remy knew the guy wasn't suffering from allergies. He was smelling, and apparently he was smelling him.

Silently Remy slipped his hand into his pocket his fingers closing around his cards, fifty two little distractions. He pulled the top card, he wasn't sure what it was. Hopefully he wasn't so out of luck he needed the Ace, or even the Queen. Whatever he held would have to do. His ungloved index finger and thumb closed over the card. His tips tingled pleasantly while heat ran up his arm. He held the charge, simmering on the edge, still in his pocket.

The sound of metal hitting metal reached his ears, but he held his ground. The guy had no idea who he was dealing with.

"'Ro go back inside, make sure the system's set, check the kids."

"Logan, what..."

"Go!"

The scream was all the signal Remy needed he tossed the card over his shoulder, guessing on it trajectory and hoping it was close enough. He ran, silent footsteps across the dips and curves of the roof. It was nothing, he'd spent his entire childhood running across rooftops. The explosion shook the building, spraying grass into the air. There was a curse and Remy chanced a glance over his shoulder.

The man in the yard was covered in blood. Apparently the card had hit real close. He didn't seem too bothered by the blood, his mouth twisted in a snarl. Six inch blades cut though the darkness extending from the knuckles of his clenched fists. Remy didn't need to look any longer to know the man was heading straight for him.

Remy vaulted off the roof tucking his body tightly together as he prepared to the hit the ground. The impact nearly knocked his breath out and he forced himself into a roll. His feet hit the ground on the third turn and he headed for the gate. The man was behind him, snarling like a freaking bear.

Gloved fingers closed over the steal rod tucked into his coat. Remy pulled the bo staff out and snapped it into full extension right before the wall. He vaulted over. The cool night air brushed the hair out of his face as he flew through the sky and in moments he was on the other side. He didn't stop to see if he was being followed. He knew he was. Escape only depended on him staying ahead. He couldn't afford a fight. Not when his boss was Excess and not when they had a hostage.

"You stop now, and I only cut off a few limbs, bub!"

Remy swallowed and ran faster. That really didn't make him want to surrender. His bike was parked nearby anyway. He cut off the road and dove into the trees. He could be silent and with the darkness as his friend he could hide, or at least loose the guy long enough to get away. He swung into a tree by his third step into the woods. The man followed, barreling though his claws slicing the over hanging branches in his way.

Not wanting to wait, Remy pushed himself into the foliage, moving as quickly and silently as possible. He jumped to the next tree, hardly shaking a leaf loose. He hit the ground again a few trees in and ran. His feet barely touched the forest floor and he hoped the silence meant he'd lost the man, but something told him he wasn't that lucky. His bike was in sight though, he only had to run a little longer.

The cool metal of his bike was against his palm when he turned to look over his shoulder. The man jumped through the trees, claws gleaming, face surprisingly blood free. His eyes were wide and wild. The man growled and Remy jumped onto the bike and revved the engine. Tires squealing, the hit scent of burnt rubber in his nose he tore down the street.

"This isn't over! Dammit!"

Remy pushed the bike faster, afraid the man was going to catch him on foot. It wasn't until he was three quarters of the way home and the adrenaline that had been pumping through his veins ran out that he felt the sting. It was dull at first and he tried to ignore it, but by the time he was in front of John's apartment he was in agony. He stopped the bike and put his hand on his shoulder. His fingers slipped in the blood that now soaked his duster. Dammit the bastard had clawed him.

He wasn't going into the apartment with that. John would bitch, something about how he should have been there. The girl. Remy growled he really didn't want to know what she was going to say. He'd wrap it up and wait for the bleeding to stop before he went in. He needed a cigarette anyway.

Remy closed his eyes as a warm breeze brushed over his face chapping his lips and tossing his hair. He sat up licked the dry from his mouth and pulled a cigarette out of the opened pack at his side. His right hand curled around his left shoulder holding the gauze to his back. He hissed as he leaned against the building trying to settle himself comfortably. He put his fingers around the stick and lit the end with his powers. The paper flared to life and began to blacken as a curl of smoke trailed off the end and into the night. The two were still up.

He'd gone home, changed, dressed his arm and taken a few healthy swigs of liquor before heading back. It was past two before he got back and his shoulder was hurting like hell. He wondered idly why he had even bothered. They should be sleeping and John could wait until the morning to hear about the heist, but he'd come back anyway. He thought he might be a little drunk when he scaled the wall and perched himself on the ledge outside John's window. Fingering the drive in his pocket and smoking he listened. Willing the sting away.

Rogue was wearing John's clothes, all of them impossibly large on her tiny frame. She was curled in the middle of his bed hands wrapped in gloves. She was talking, animatedly, compared to how he'd left her, nearly comatose and wet. Her eyes were still hollow, her cheeks still too red and her lips too pale, but she looked a little better. He had little to compare her to, just the fire of her first waking and the desolation of her collapse back into reality.

He felt like he should know her better. She'd lived in his mind, had been him for a while and he all he knew about her was her alias and that she'd once been friends with St. John. John when he'd been only three years younger and on his way to herodom. He snorted, clutched his shoulder. Besides himself, John was the last person he'd tag as a hero.

"So they let you stay, I mean even when you were useless."

Rogue seemed indignant and Remy shifted so he could see her face better. She was biting her lip as she looked at him. She looked like she was holding back a storm with her teeth.

"I wasn't useless, and they're my family."

"Family," John laughed, "you were there because they needed something from you."

"And Magneto was a real father figure," she countered hardly missing a beat.

"I knew what Magneto was all about," Remy could hear John fidgeting, "I wasn't surprised when it all went down. I got just what I'd signed up for. Everybody has their own agenda, and it usually revolves around themselves. It's self preservation."

"That's ridiculous."

"It's reality."

"You felt at home there," Rogue was looking at her feet, plucking at the strings on her socks. John had untied her hands. That was a stupid move.

"With you and the iceboy?" John sneered. "Xavier wanted us to fight a war, he recruited us because we could help his cause."

"They gave me a home!" She yelled back. Her face was reddening. She was pissed by the implication. He could see she her underlying dilemma. She had thought the same thing more than once.

"They didn't give me a thing but rejection."

There was enough real emotion in his answer for Remy to turn his attention from the girl back to John. He wasn't looking at her but at the wall above her head. When John avoided eye contact he about to say something he didn't want to, or had already revealed something he didn't mean to.

"Rejection! They took you in, you didn't have anywhere to go either. You father..."

John jumped to his feet, knocking his chair backwards, "Shut up, girl." He spat. Rogue was silent in return, but only for a moment.

"If you had come back..."

John spun around his eyes were gleaming, there was smoke dancing on the edges of his fingers, the lighter was resting in his palm. "I told you to shut up! You mucked around in my head a couple of times and you think you know me." The smoke grew to a fireball.

"I know you're better than this."

John didn't deflate, but he didn't advance. He held his ground. "I've killed people. Lots of people. You think Alcatraz with without it's casualties?"

Remy chose that moment to come through the window. The show was getting too heated for him to remain a bystander. John killing Rogue would only make more problems.

"Dis a bad time?" Remy asked when he landed on the floor a few feet from John's bed a cigarette still smoldering between his lips. It took a lot of effort not to grab his shoulder. The light in John's eyes wavered a bit but the ball of flame was still burning. John was still pissed.

"Where the hell have you been?"

Remy shrugged, "De job took a little longer den anticipated."

"Is it done?"

"Oui," Remy pulled the drive out of his pocket. The flame died. "Let me see it."

Remy didn't protest and tossed the drive at John. It landed in the palm he'd just been holding a fireball in. He closed his finger around it and shoved it in his pocket.

"I'm taking it to Essex." He was out the door without another word.

Remy would have protested, but John was already pissed, the damn girl had pushed all his buttons and he was seconds from loosing it. There was no point in telling him Excess wouldn't be there. John wasn't really going there anyway. The drop off wasn't until morning. John would blow off steam and come back when he was cooled off.

"You don' know how close you came ta la morte, chere." Remy ground the cigarette into the full tray and turned toward Rogue.

She was still looking at the door when she answered. "Ah'm not afraid of him."

"You should be."

Remy closed the window and grabbed the coiled rope on the foot to the bed. She didn't fight when he tied her hands together. This job was getting worse and worse.

That's the end for this chapter. Tell me what you think.

Here's the preview for Chapter 5

"Those slashes on your back, I know who did that."

He stiffened slightly, but continued to shuffle. Indifferent and smug, he even smiled when he turned to face her.

Rogue felt her temper flaring. "Ya think that's the worst that will happen to ya when your caught, 'cause Logan's going to find ya. The X-men are goin' to stop ya!" She pulled at her ropes binding her wrist, willing them to break.

He laughed, short and barking. "We jumped de gun a little with you, petite. Dere a lot dat you don' know."

Rogue closed her mouth, reining her temper. "Ah know enough."

"Oui, on dat we can agree."

He grabbed the chair he had been straddling and pulled it in front of her. Rogue watched him warily as he straddled it, and started tossing the shuffled cards in her direction.

"You play cards, petite?"

Rogue shook her head, "Ah'm not your poker buddy. Ah'm not playing cards with ya."

"You don' have ta be friends ta play poker, chere."

"So mortal enemies work better."

"Dere no hard feelins' when ya loose, so oui, mortal enemies work de best."

Well there it is. Sorry it's a little late, but hey still Wed. Hope this holds you guys over until Monday.