Rogue shifted again uncomfortably under the sheets and squeezed her eyes shut almost to the point where it was physically painful. She had been laying in that bed for three hours without sleep. She wasn't sure if it was because Gambit had been there or because he had left, but it was really irritating her.

She huffed another breath as she flipped from her back to her stomach for the hundredth time in the past half hour. She buried her face in the pillow and held her breath until her sides ached.

Why did he have to be so infuriatingly annoying? She couldn't put her finger on it, but she was sure it had something to do with the eyes… or the smile… or the-

-She sat up suddenly and punched the pillow.

No. No. No.

He was a flirty, arrogant, obnoxious jerk. He never made a move that he hadn't already plotted, he never said a word he knew wouldn't inspire the reaction he wanted. He. Was. Gambit. Obviously he was trying to manipulate what she was feeling or something. There had to be a better explanation to why she was having dreams about the man.

He wanted her to be confused.

Usually her dreams consisted of a mashed swirl of memories. Of being strapped down to a table, injected with metal. Of being dragged through mud, through iron gates that meant death. Of watching the world quickly spiral out of control. Of watching a son turn into the very thing that inspired fear. Of being captured again. Of being controlled by the man who passed himself as a father. Of running. Rejection. Abuse. Manipulation. Darkness. Cold.

She rarely had dreams that spawned from her own subconscious. The one with Gambit had been a rare occurrence, but still terrifying. She remembered it vividly. It had basically been what she had relayed to Gambit a few hours ago, except for one minor detail she had 'accidentally' left out.

He had asked her if he had been fully clothed. Yes… he had. But she hadn't been wearing any gloves.

She was stuck on that mental picture- their fingers twined together, flesh against flesh.

"Why him?" She moaned. Why couldn't some nice guy find his way into her dreams? Maybe a nice guy would have held on to her hand in stead of letting her die. Maybe a nice guy would stop being so damn mysterious and spine-chilling.

Maybe a nice guy wouldn't make her so CONFUSED.

She flipped again, this time so that she was laying on her back.

She reached the same conclusion she had a few minutes ago. Gambit wanted her confused.

The man wouldn't leave her alone. He'd say something and it would make her blush. He'd give her a look and it would make her blush. He'd smile at her…. And it'd make her blush. She'd give him some crippling retort and he would laugh it off. She'd give him a glare that would kill lesser men and he would comment on how pretty her eyes were. And she could never bring herself to smile at him, it would probably just encourage him.

She smashed the heel of her hand against her forehead. Finally slipping out of the bed she decided she needed a shower to wash off the greasy film he seemed to have left on her and take off his stupid shirt.

She stealthily snuck out of the door, calling upon her skills as an X-man to be sneaky. Under her breath she prayed that Gambit was asleep, or he would already have known she was awake.

Why?

Because the man was a mind ninja.

She made a beeline for the only bathroom that had a shower in it, her thoughts still to hectic to absorb anything but the blaringly obvious. Her eyes swept the openness of the loft one time before she turned away, making sure it was empty and quite.

Good, she thought with a nod. Followed by, Maybe I'm being a little paranoid?

She shrugged as she twisted the knob and opened the door.

"Ah!" She screamed, leaping back and slapping her fingers over her eyes. "I saw nothing!" She declared. "AND I AM NOT CONFUSED!" She roared before running away.

Remy stood half-naked in the center of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his face, wet hair plastered to his forehead, toothbrush hanging out of his mouth as he watched her bolt. "She may not be confused… but I sure as hell am…"

-

Logan was getting antsy sitting still inside the Blackbird, his eyes were constantly trained on Deadpool, making sure that he didn't do anything stupid. The Professor had asked him to trust the man, which was probably the only reason Deadpool was still alive…

That, and, he couldn't for the life of him find a way to kill the man.

Deadpool had lapsed into an unexpected silence after he had told his story and now even looked slightly … thoughtful …

"That's it." Deadpool said suddenly, looking out the window. "That's where they all meet."

Logan took a moment to glance down to the ground as well.

"That's… creepy…" Kitty supplied, copying their motions.

In the darkness the building just looked like some sort of skeletal remains of a beast far larger and demonic than anything in current existence. Anything in the area directly surrounding it was dead or dying.

"You should see the inside." Deadpool said somberly.

"Stop that." Logan turned to Deadpool, annoyed with his new found seriousness. "You're freaking me out."

"Personally, I like the change." Storm said with a ghost of a smile.

"I think it means he's up to something." Logan gave Deadpool a wary glance and he shrugged.

"What could I possibly be up to, Wolvie?" Deadpool wagged a finger at him.

"Can we just get this over with?" Scott interrupted as the jet touched down a suitable distance away from the establishment.

"Everyone got the plan straight?" Logan asked sternly.

"Destroy everything in sight." Deadpool stated. "Aye-aye captain." he mock saluted.

Logan kept his eyes on him for another few moments, worried -no, positive- that Deadpool was going to kill everyone in that building.

"Well, Chuck," Logan muttered under his breath. "You told me to trust 'em."

Deadpool shot him a double thumbs-up.

"Everyone else got that?" Logan looked to everyone else for conformation. "Good." He growled. "Let's put this to an end."

Deadpool reached over his shoulder-

-

-Deadpool fluidly drew the blades strapped to him back and then spun each katana around in his fingers, again enjoying the feel of his muscles moving under his control again.

"Heyheyhey!" The ice boy shrank away from the movement. "Unnecessary!"

"Obviously you've never seen him work." Logan commented to the kid dryly. Ice boy's eye's widened and he stumbled back into the little girl.

"Watch it, Bobby." She snapped.

"Everyone get into positions." Logan growled, calling everyone's attention. "'Ro, you're with Scott, Bobby with Kitty, and you," Wolverine pointed at him. "You're with me."

"Fieldtrip!" Deadpool sang before leaping out of the jet.

The others separated and set out to their designated spot, waiting for the go signal. "Bandit?" Deadpool whispered into the communicator. "Bandit, we have three Smokey's at approximately six o'clock coming up fast."

"Stop that." Logan snatched the communicator out of his hands and quickly explained to Kitty that she wasn't 'Bandit', and there were no 'Smokey's'.

"You're no fun." Deadpool grumbled.

"Everyone in place?" Wolverine ignored him. He was met with four affirmatives. "Alright. Move in. Remember, stealth until we're caught. We're trying to get in as deep as we can before blowing it away. Clear?" He said looking directly at Deadpool.

Deadpool saluted.

"Move out." He called to everyone.

Stealthily Wolverine and Deadpool crawled forward. There were two guards on that particular side of the building.

"I'll take care of them." Wolverine growled, unsheathing his claws.

"No." Deadpool said.

"No?" Wolverine repeated, slightly stunned.

"No." Deadpool nodded. "You are too… 'growly'. You make too much noise. I'll take care of them."

Before Wolverine could object, Deadpool had dispatched both men silently and swiftly.

"Show off." Wolverine growled before following after him. BY the time he had reached the same point where Deadpool was, Deadpool had already taken the liberty of discreetly taking care of three more men, swiping their security cards.

"Come on," Deadpool nudged Wolverine with his elbow, trying to get a smile out of the man. "You can say it, I won't tell."

"Fine." Logan rumbled… Was that his actual voice? He should probably see a Doctor about that. "Good job." He said begrudgingly.

"What do you know about Throat Cancer?" Deadpool asked bluntly.

Before Wolverine could stab him, there was a loud crack. Deadpool felt something vaguely familiar.

What was it? Pain? Was that what it felt like? He couldn't remember exactly.

He looked down at his chest.

Bullet hole.

"Sonovabitch." He turned to his attacker, swinging the swords about in his hands so that they were in a ready position. "You are a dead man." He glared through the mask at the thin figure. Wolverine growled in barely restrained rage beside him.

"I could say the same thing to you, Wade." The attacker said calmly, stepping forward into the light. In their hand, there was a small gun with some sort of switch at the top. Thin fingers flipped the switch.

Deadpool suddenly became acutely aware of what pain felt like.

-

Wah! Don't send Damien to kill me! I only shot Wade a little bit… and… uh… It's gonna get worse. *ducks behind computer*