CHAPTER 6
The tour of the mansion was fun; Alex figured he'd have no problem navigating, considering what Hogwarts was like. He scowled unintentionally. Bloody wizards.
"We got ta get ta de War Room now, Alex," Remy interrupted his musing. Nodding, he followed the other mutant back through the Institute. A set of wooden doors met them, although Alex could almost instinctively tell that they were more that they appeared. Voicing them to Remy, he was surprised that he got an answer.
"Dey be made o' energy," was the answer, surprisingly simple, "I be able ta feel dem as well. Ya get used ta it wit' time."
Entering the room, Alex was surprised at how few people were there.
A tell woman with dark skin and pure white hair stood out the most, although not by far. There was 'Hank' and another blue man (although this one looked more like a devil than King Kong), and a relatively normal looking boy with blonde hair and blue eyes. Two girls were whispering in the corner, one who looked like any teenager, although a little short, and another with long brown hair that had a single white streak at the front. The one with the white streak was completely covered; the only part of skin you could see was her face.
Standing on either side of the Professor were three people; the two to his right – one male and one female – were clearly a couple, and they looked – oddly – like everything people described James and Lily Potter to be. The man to Professor Xavier's left, however, gave off a stranger energy than the rest of them. He seemed almost… like a wild animal.
"Ah, right on time," muttered Professor Xavier, "Alex, these are the permanent residents of the Institute; I shall let you all introduce yourselves, as I believe I have a guest."
With that, he wheeled out of the room, leaving a stunned Alex in his wake.
"Hey, Remy," giggled the girl with the white streak of hair. Remy, to Alex's surprise, sent her a look of disdain.
"Another swamp rat?" demanded the wild-seeming man in a low, gruff voice. Remy glared.
"Yo' can all be sayin' d'ese t'ings about Gambit, but yo' not be insultin' his brot'er!" snapped the Cajun angrily. If the looks of surprise on their faces were anything to go by, Remy didn't normally stand against them.
"Brother?" demanded the man who looked like James Potter, his crimson glasses shining in the bright sunlight streaming through the large window.
"He has the same static around his mind as Gambit, hun," whispered the Lily-look-alike to the James-look-alike. Alex glared angrily.
"Stay outta my head, lady," he growled lowly, feeling his energy channelling to his hands. A firm hand squeezing his arm made him stop.
"My apologies," she said, making sure to keep a tight shield around her mind. She was curious – oh, so very curious – about this new mutant who only seemed to add to the mystery that was Remy LeBeau.
"Maybe de introductions could be made, non?" interrupted Remy. The tension in the room was so thick it was like wading through molasses.
"Ov course," agreed the rather demonic looking man in what was probably the kindest voice Alex had ever heard, his words coloured slightly with a faint German accent.
"I am Kurt Vagner, also known as ze Nightcrawler."
"What can you do?" asked Alex politely. He was currently of the mentality that, if they didn't do anything to him, he wouldn't do anything to them.
As a demonstration, Kurt disappeared with a strange 'pfft' noise and a flash of red light (red seemed to be an ongoing theme here), only to appear on the table, crouched somewhat like a frog. Harry grinned
"That's cool," he said, walking confidently over to Kurt and holding out his hand for a shake. The surprised blue mutant accepted with his three-fingered hand.
"T'ank you," he responded, somewhat stunned.
"Can we do the introductions in a circle please, and give a demonstration – if possible – of your abilities so I know who you are?" asked Harry. Everyone nodded, moving into the requested shape. Pointing to the person to the right of Kurt, Harry demanded that they begin.
"I'm Kitty," said the normal looking girl, "I can go through things." She stuck her hand through the table.
"Ah'm Rogue," continued the girl who was completely covered with a very strong southern accent, "an' I can absorb anotha' mutants powers an' memories." Rogue gave no demonstration.
"I am Ororo Munroe," the woman with the white hair introduced, "and I am hailed as a weather goddess in my home tribe." A brisk wind whipped through the room, rustling papers.
"Scott Summers," the James-look-alike was next, "and I produce a laser with my eyes. If my glasses are removed, I can't stop it."
"Jean Grey," the woman who had entered Alex's mind without permission, "I am both telepathic and telekinetic, and the Professor labelled me as an omega level mutant, and I have a degree in medical sciences."
Alex would not be relaxing around her.
"I'm Bobby, the Iceman!" The normal looking guy said, sounding super hyped up. He quickly changed appearance, looking not-normal as his entire body turned ice-blue.
The wild man was next; Alex got the feeling that there was more to him than was obvious, and that they wouldn't get along very well just yet, if at all.
"Logan," he grunted, and with a snikt, two sets of three shiny, metal claws cut through the skin on his knuckles. It didn't feel like normal metal, though; it seemed to be more charged with energy than the rest of the room. Alex narrowed his eyes.
"What type of metal is that?" he asked. Logan's eyes narrowed as well.
"Why're ya askin', bub?" he growled.
"I don't have to explain myself to you," Harry answered angrily. The sprouting argument was interrupted before it could gather any steam.
"I'm Dr Henry McCoy," the King Kong looking man who had brought them through the gates introduced himself quickly, "although I am also known as Hank, or Beast when on missions. My ability is pretty obvious," he gestured to the obscene amount of muscle his body supported, "and I am also the team's doctor."
"What'd I miss?" a young male voice asked from the door. Turning, Alex found a guy around his height with messy, light brown hair and several technology-based pieces of equipment on him, such as his simple-looking goggle-glasses and right leg.
"Introductions," answered Alex, "I'm Alex LeBeau, and I'm new here."
"Forge," the guy responded, holding out a hand, "I'm an inventor – wait, your last name's LeBeau?"
"Yes," Alex answered warily, shaking the hand briefly, "what of it?"
"You're related to Gambit?"
"Obviously," he muttered sarcastically.
"Why don't you speak in third person with the cool accent then?" he demanded. Alex sighed, turning to face the entire group. Many of them had a similar curiosity expressed in the wideness of their eyes and their subtle leaning towards him. Kurt was still sitting on the table, but was casually observing his tail as he flicked it from left to right, but Logan had moved to the window and was looking out onto a lake boredly.
"Alright," Alex started loudly, "I only want to have to explain this once. I am Remy's little brother; he grew up in New Orleans, I grew up in Canada," for some reason, Logan growled lowly, "and I didn't meet him until I came into my abilities and was dumped back in Louisiana. He found me – by creepy coincidence – we discovered we were family and here we are."
"That doesn't match up, bub," growled Logan. Did he do anything without growling? A queasy feeling settled in the LeBeau family's chests.
"What do yo' mean, Wolvie?" asked Remy smoothly, but there was a hard edge to his voice. Remy moved to stand between Alex and the others, subtly putting his hands where he could reach his weapons.
"He don't smell like Canada," said the burly man, "an' he don't smell like your brother." The two made eye contact across the room, glaring. Remy grabbed his bo staff and looked to the others.
"If yo' could all please make yo'r way to de nearest exit, Gambit be appreciatin' it a lot; Wolvie an' I be havin' some t'ings ta discuss."
Scott and Jean stood their ground whilst the rest – hearing a dangerous undertone – wisely left.
"What's going on?" demanded Summers. Alex could feel the not-so-subtle poking of the telepath trying to pick through the static guarding his head, but he felt helpless in the fact that there was nothing he could do about it.
A sharp pain lanced through his head as Jean prodded particularly hard and he screamed, barely noticing everyone bar Remy being thrown against the walls, the telepath's nose bleeding as she clutched her head. Alex felt wave after wave of intense power flowing through him as the kinetic energy pulsed throughout the room in an attempt to protect its host.
A warm, familiar hand on his back and a soft, deep voice whispering in his ear helped him to calm down. When he did, he surveyed the carnage. The walls and floor appeared to be almost scorched, everything inanimate in the room having been disintegrated. All the mutants, thankfully, seemed to be reasonably unharmed, although Logan seemed to be mighty ticked off, Summers had his eyes squeezed shut and the telepath – he now refused to refer to her by her name – was soaked in the blood that was now sluggishly streaming from her nose as she slumped against the wall, unconscious.
"I-I-" Alex stammered as his body trembled. Warm, strong arms wrapped him in a firm hug, whispering soothing nothings in his ear in that familiar Cajun accent.
"It's ok, cheri," Remy murmured, "yo' was pushed an' yo'r untrained; 'twas gonna happen sooner or later. Everyone be fine, cheri; yo'r ok. I did de same t'ing when I first came inta my ability; takes practice, cheri. Yo'r ok…"
Things continued in this manner long after the Professor came back in, a blonde woman with an apparent obsession with white following in his wake.
"Logan," asked the Professor quietly so as not to disturb the ruffled teen being comforted by the previously though emotionless Gambit, "what happened here?"
"Their story didn' match up," he shrugged, "the kid don't smell of Canada, nor does he smell like the swamp rat's brother. Gumbo got all defensive when I brought it up an' Jeanie obviously tried a bit too hard to get into his head. The energy that kid contains is phenomenal, Chuck."
"You mean they aren't related?" asked the Professor, surprised. Logan shook his head, thinking.
"The smell more like a father and son," answered Wolverine, "and I think you ignored the more pressing issue of the kids power level."
"Yes, he does seem quite powerful, doesn't he?" interrupted a smooth, British-sounding female voice. Logan snarled.
"Frost," he rumbled, "what're you doin' here?"
"She's here to assist with Alexandre; I called her after his demonstration in the Danger Room."
"Why, Chuck?" Logan almost seemed to be… whining, "you know I don' like her!" Xavier chuckled.
"You can be so childish sometimes, Logan." The grumpy feral just huffed, crossing his arms over his muscled chest.
"Hello, young one," Emma murmured, bending down to be a little bit closer to the teen buried in the infamous Gambit's chest, "my name is Emma Frost, and Professor Xavier asked me here to help you with your new powers. Could you introduce yourself to me?"
Alex looked up at the British accent.
"My name is Alex," he mumbled quietly, not bothering with the fake accent, before burying his head back into Remy's chest. The arms tightened slightly around him.
Emma resisted the urge to raise her eyebrows. 'Didn't smell like Canada' indeed; no matter what story they were feeding the rest of the team, that accent clearly placed the child as British.
"Alex," the Professor called, "would you mind explaining why your story and Logan's senses don't match up?"
Remy glared harshly.
"Oui, he do be mindin' explainin'," he snapped, "we told yo' what yo' wanted ta know; if Wolvie can smell somet'in' different, den dat's his problem. Remy was willin' ta explain it ta him before, but not if he be tellin' eveyt'in' ta someone else."
With a final glare to the fumbling Scott and unconscious Jean – how could she try something like that?! – Remy picked up his petit and carried him to the attic room he usually occupied.
"Iz he alright?" asked a soft voice from the shadows, about halfway to the attic. Having already sense that another was following him, Remy didn't jump, but decided against turning around as he continued walking.
"Jean tried ta get inta his head," Remy answered stiffly, "an' mon petit had his full potential break free ta protect him from de intrusion. He just be a li'l tired from de exertion o' channelin' dat much energy before he be ready."
Kurt continued to follow him.
"Why yo' be followin' Remy in de shadows, Kurt?"
"I have been moved to ze other attic room," he answered. Remy nodded.
"Den yo' should be walkin' wit' Remy, not shadowin' his footsteps."
"My apologies," murmured the blue skinned man as he appeared next to Gambit and his sleeping companion and continued to walk. When they reached the attic, Kurt motioned to the left-most door of the three.
"Zis iz my room," he said, walking towards it, "ze middle iz still ze bathroom, and ze right is empty." Nodding his thanks, Remy carried his petit to the room. Finding a nice, king sized bed in the centre, he set Alex down on the left, removing his shoes and socks and tucking him in before making his way out to the main living area and sitting at the table with a fresh-made cup of coffee.
A strange sounding 'pfft' next to him alerted him of the arrival of Kurt.
"Do you vant to explain Logan'z comment downstairs?" he asked softly.
"Can Remy be trustin' yo'?" he asked seriously. Kurt sat down in front of him, a concentrated expression on his face.
"Ja."
"Well, first off, I don' always be speakin' in t'ird person," Remy smiled, and then continued to explain the last four weeks – which felt simultaneously like months and seconds – to a surprised – and occasionally angry – Kurt.