Author's Note: You guys make me blush! I love ya! So here is the next chapter! You're all too awesome to keep waiting!

Chapter Twenty-Five

Shipyards

Julien saw the very subtle flick of LeBeau's wrist and knew that the man had made his choice. He wanted to close his eyes and brace himself but he would not give the mutant the satisfaction. At least this way, Julien would get the one thing he had craved the most, the end of the Thieves Guild. Even if LeBeau managed to survive the explosion being so close to it, there is no way Marius would let his son's murder stand without retribution, not again.

It would all end here, now, in this moment.

The card flew and time stood still for Julien as he traced the weapon's trajectory, expecting it to go high and away so that he couldn't perform any last minute block, not that he could being sprawled out like he was. Instead, the explosive cardboard came up short… extremely short.

A Joker landed between his legs, the caricature laughing at him before popping out of existence.

As Julien let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, LeBeau walked purposely over to him, grabbing his lapels and dragging him to his feet. "You ain't even worth da instruction card."

With those words, Julien realized that the mutant regarded him the lowest of the low, not even worth death by the little worthless card that explained a simple game of Five Card Stud which came in most commercial decks of playing cards. LeBeau didn't even use commercial decks, not unless he was very desperate. This was quite possibly the worst insult imaginable to the thief.

"Surely I'm worth at least a deuce?" Julien pushed off the man, dusting and straightening off his jacket, trying to retain some manner of pride and respect in his defeat.

"Let's see how well you behave," LeBeau grabbed him roughly by the shoulder with his good arm and lead him out into the open.

From the shadows, figures started to emerge.

Gris Gris and Fifolet walked up in their flak gear, First Kill speaking into his radio. "We have him, alive. We're in da Motor Pool, back of complex."

Mercy was walking determinedly up through the blocked vehicles, body tense and jaw set.

"Hey, Mercy, do you want to—" LeBeau started to say but before he could finish, Mercy's hand connected with Julien's nose, his eyes rolling back into his head before passing out.

When he woke up later, his first words were 'should have seen dat coming'.

…

"—tie him up?" Remy finished but his sister-in-law had already cold-cocked the assassin and sent him into a heap on the floor. "Dat works too," he chuckled. "Feel better now?"

Mercy took a couple short breaths and straightened herself out, "Much."

He heard some shuffling beside him and saw Rogue approach, dusting herself off as a layer of dirt was traced down her side. When she got closer she eyed his torn sleeve and the speckling of red. "You've been shot."

Shrugging a bit, it hurt, but no more than reason, "Just a graze, Julien may be able to think like an assassin, but he sure as hell never could aim like one." Always veering to the left…

His words garnered a snicker from Fifolet but Gris Gris was more bureaucratic about the situation, and oddly silent too. The man always had a big mouth on him.

More footsteps and Marius plus three Assassins walked up the path between the cars. The Patriarch stared down at his son then looked at the excommunicated thief curiously.

"You stipulated alive," Remy grinned, "you never said anything about his state of consciousness."

The man let out a sigh, "I suppose that's true."

With an almost invisible gesture, Marius' men pulled his unconscious son to his feet and dragged him away. As he watched the man who murdered his brother and wife disappear into the distance, Remy was overcome by an overwhelming sense of… serenity.

It was over, all of it. He had his answers, he knew who murdered his Bella Donna and why. He knew who had Henri killed and why. Though he hated the reasoning and despised the murderer himself… there was nothing left to wonder, nothing left to ask. Nothing he could have, or should have, done differently.

He even managed to get the Guilds to work together, if only for this one moment in time. Remy had to sacrifice his revenge for it, vowing to Marius that his son would be taken alive, to be dealt with inside his own Family for what he had done to Bella Donna. Of course, this meant the Thieves would have no such justice for Henri. That was okay, every thief knew the punishment for murdering one of their own in the Assassin's Guild was much more… creative… than anything a Thief could imagine, and as the man says… they can imagine quite a bit.

Of course, Marius would likely not kill his child, possibly deferring punishment to the Assassin Council. Regardless, Julien would not be getting out this unscathed, there was just too much blood on his hands now…

and none on Remy's…

Henri would be so proud.

"Were there any complications?" Marius' words shook Remy from his internal musings.

At first the thief thought the question was aimed at him but the Patriarch's eyes stared pointedly at his right hand, Gris Gris, who was still strangely quiet, his brow furrowed in either thought or annoyance. However, it was Rogue who piped in with a, "No, no problems. Everything worked out just fine."

First Kill gave her a strange look, before nodding, "As da fille says."

"Well, now dat dat's settled," Jean-Luc's voice literally came out of nowhere as he appeared to the side of the group, nearly scaring Remy out of his skin. Damn, the man was getting old, he shouldn't still be able to do that! "I think it's about time we allow da police dat we so kindly paid off to conveniently keep away to just as fortuitously show up and arrest all dese poor unconscious gentlemen."

"Yes," Marius said thoughtfully, "I'm sure a good manner of dem have warrants against dem."

"Make sure yah grab his second in command for yourself," Rogue added, "he'll be able ta tell us if dere is anything we missed."

The two Patriarch's exchanged glances, Marius the first to speak up, "I admit, Thieves are more subtle dan Assassins when it comes to information gathering."

"And Assassins are much apt to deal with certain details dan Thieves," Jean-Luc agreed with just a hint of a smile.

"We would be remiss as leaders if we did not see dis out to da end," Marius offered casually.

"Couldn't agree more," Jean-Luc grinned broadly, the same grin Remy stole a long time ago.

Remy couldn't be more pleased. Here started what would hopefully be a new era of peace and camaraderie between the Guilds. It would be a slow process, but it was a start, and all great things had small beginnings.

Marius turned a thoughtful eye towards him, "You kept your word, LeBeau, I was honestly half expecting you not to."

This made him frown, "Den why did you agree?"

"For Bella," was a simple answer, but one that didn't need explaining.

And for the first time the mention of his fallen wife's name failed to bring up a swell of pain to his heart. Had he now closed that moment in his life as well? Could he finally let her ghost rest in peace?

"John-Luc," Marius addressed the elder LeBeau, "I think, as a gesture of good faith, dat da Assasins Guild would find no quarrel with da Thieves if dey were to lift da exile on Remy LeBeau."

Remy was sure he lost his poker face, the Patriarch's words an unexpected result of the past few day's events.

"A gesture of good faith," John-Luc nodded and buried in his words were sentiments of 'I'm letting you keep your son and not enacting my own personal revenge on him, it is only right you let me have my remaining son back'. Of course, neither would be willing to voice such thoughts aloud.

"Well," Marius mustered himself, "time we stopped loitering, it's unseemly for gentleman, and women, of our professions." He didn't bother a reply and started to walk away, Gris Gris and Fifolet following behind.

It was Mercy who broke Remy out of his daze, hugging, "Welcome home, beau-frère."

Still at a loss of words, and his arm hurting afresh thanks to his sister-in-law, Remy could only grin, looking to his father. John-Luc smiled softly, giving him a simple nod. Simple to everyone else, but to Remy it meant everything. Coming from his father, it meant the world.

"Well," Mercy pulled away started down the path, grabbing her radio from her pocket, "I'm sure Claude's picked da place dry by now, better get everyone out before day start taking the singles from da roofs."

It was an old joke, one that Remy laughed heartily at. He then went to say something to his father but again, the man had disappeared. One of these days, Remy was going to find out how he did that! Anyone who thought that Remy LeBeau was the sneakiest thief alive had obviously never met John-Luc LeBeau.

"Come on," Rogue touched his arm lightly, "let's get yah patched up, then yah can celebrate your homecoming."

"Yeah," he let out a breathless laugh, he always knew he'd come home, but never in his life did he think it would be like this. Rogue moved past him and that's when he saw it, "You've been shot."

"Huh?" she looked over her shoulder and saw the ripped material of her leather jacket where a bullet impacted just under the collar. "Damn, I liked this jacket."

So wrapped up in everything he cursed at himself for taking so long to put it together. Right as he threw his card there was a single gunshot, loud and echoing, but he thought it came from outside. Then the odd looks between Rogue and Gris Gris. First Kill would never have let him kill Marius' son, regardless of what the former Assassin had done. "Did you take a bullet for me?"

"Don't flatter yourself," she waved him off with a smirk, "invulnerable, remember. Not like I was risking much."

"Still," he hated that she had a point there, but it didn't matter to him. His friend willfully put herself in the line of fire and even if she was invulnerable, that was never a full proof guarantee that absolutely nothing at all would go wrong, "thank you."

"You're welcome, sugah," she smiled, turning to walk away.

"Rogue," he stopped her again, realizing that she had trusted him to do the right thing back there, keeping him alive so he could make the choice not to kill Julien, "thank you, I couldn't have done dis without you."

She laughed and the softness echoed against the cold metal, "This was a cake walk compared ta some of tha stuff tha Brotherhood's got me inta."

Remy chuckling to himself as he joined her ahead on the path, "Dat's not what I'm referring to, cheri."

"Mighty cryptic there thief," she frowned.

"I told you, petite," he lifted her gloved hand and kissed it, "when I needed you, you'd know, and you did."

Speechless, she stared blankly at him as he turned and headed towards the entrance, he'd let her ponder his words for a bit. Grinning to himself, he exited the building and took in a deep breath, a weight he knew he had been carrying but reluctant to let go lifted on its own from his shoulders.

For Remy LeBeau, nothing would ever be the same again, and this was a good thing.

…

Rogue leaned up against one of the entrances to the large gazebo that sat in a clearing outside Mercy's Guild House. With the new and improved truce, Julien out of commission, and Remy LeBeau returned, the house found reason to celebrate with an impromptu bar-be-q. With the sun setting, the delicious aroma of pork and shrimp wafted up from the fire pit while the young thieves in training played games on the lawn.

Tall, dark, and annoying, well, not that annoying, came up from behind and took a similar perch at the other side of the entrance.

"Yah really do live up ta your name, don't ya," Rogue laughed, having had time to think about all the thief had done. "Yah had everyone right where yah wanted us, manipulating tha game board from tha beginning. Bold and decisive moves, risking an all out war and then sacrificing your own vengeance for tha sake of tha Guild. One hell of a gambit, Gambit."

He chuckled, half his face hidden under his trilby, "Am I really dat transparent?"

"Yah are now," she pouted but unable to hide her mirth, "when it doesn't matter anymore."

"Dis is when it matters most," she could see the high, self-satisfactory grin on his face.

"Uh huh," Rogue shook her head, "I'm still not sure how I think about being used as your own personal Jiminy Cricket."

His lips turned quizzical, "Is dat what you think?"

"Said so yourself, I was your contingency plan," she pointed out, unable to hide a tint of bitterness in her voice, "yah knew about Danvers, knew I screwed up. I was your reminder not ta do tha same, that's what yah needed me ta do."

Gambit tilted up his head so she could see his eyes, "It wasn't like dat at all, petite, well, not completely."

Crossing her arms, "Then what was it?"

"You're not exactly da easiest person to manipulate, cheri," he slowly lifted himself from where he lounged and made his way over to her, "you kept surprising me, so what was I do to?" he chuckled, "I never expected you to follow me to Tokyo."

"After yah teased me like that with tha King of Hearts?" she raised one eyebrow, not convinced since she spent the last week or so believing he was playing her like a two-string fiddle.

"Didn't think you cared dat much," he shrugged, placing his hand above her head to lean on the beam, his body so close to hers she could feel the heat radiating off of him. "And I was so looking forward to bringing it up next time we met in battle."

"Might still get that chance," Rogue pressed into the wooden frame, once again the man doing funny things to her, her mind flashing back to their dance… their kiss… "We might be friends now, Gambit, but we ain't that friendly."

He flashed her a grin and chuckled, his eyes darting from her own to her lips then back again, and for a moment Rogue thought he was going to kiss her again… and she'd let him… more so, she'd welcome it.

Instead, he pulled back slightly, letting his hand fall to brush against her hair, following the trace of a curl to her shoulder before lightly skimming down her arm. "What say we grab a beer and some dem ribs? I'll tell how you mucked with my master plan and you can keep making snarky comments at my expense."

"A plan with no drawbacks," she couldn't help a grin, her words almost a laugh.

"Thought you might like," the thief laughed with her, turning away to cross the gazebo, "and you're in luck, Emil cooks da best pulled pork from here to St. Louis."

"Tall order," she mused, but as she started to follow him, a question that she had wanted to ask came forward and not for the first time she found herself acting before thinking around the man, "Remy, how does it feel?"

Her Cajun friend stopped in mid-stride, "It feels… great," he replied softly. "Henri and Bella would have wanted it like dis, to see da Guilds working together. I'll never forget dem, I'll never get dem back, but deir deaths no longer weigh down on me. I can finally move on from dis, like dey'd want me to."

"They would," she smiled even though he couldn't see it.

"I'm sorry, Rogue," he turned is body slightly so he could look her in the eyes again, "but Magneto was wrong."

Rogue blinked and glanced away, her throat going dry again. "Figured as much," she coughed and straightening herself, "hindsight is funny like that."

"Peace is still an option, Rogue," Gambit spoke sympathetically, but not patronizing. "You'll find it."

"Sure," the word was entirely unconvincing, it was meant to be.

"I have faith in you, mon cheri," his words carried gently across the small expanse.

Her eyes flitted back to his and in them she saw something indescribable, the pools of red she would again gladly drown in.

With a strangled cry Rogue doubled over, pain slicing through her head as Danvers and a thousand others screamed from within. Falling to her knees, she clutched at her head only to feel intense heat radiate throughout her body.

"Rogue!" she heard Gambit shout, his voice miles away though he was only a few feet in front of her. "Your hands…"

Forcing her eyes open she lowered her hands and could see the swirling reds and yellow of energy gathering around her hands, licking violently, begging release, wishing to create havoc…

It had been years since she had absorbed Alex Summers, so why now was his mutation resurfacing? It was then she remembered the incident at the house, the telekinetic push. Not only were the voices getting louder but her powers were spiraling farther out of control.

Panic swelled inside her, feeding the flames which burned the fabric of her gloves away inducing further panic.

Rogue was only able to control other mutant's powers so easily because she was detached from them, the power was hers, not the emotions. But with her own mind awash in fear and alarm, Havok's energy blast only grew, threatening, wanting, to destroy everything that got in its path… she only had to let it go… her body weakening its hold against it…

"Rogue," the word was spoken softly in her ear, Gambit having moved behind her.

"Can't control it," she bit out through clenched teeth. "Don't know what's happening ta me."

"It's okay," he soothed as his hands reached around her and grasped her forearms, only inches from the swirling force and exposed skin. "Il va bien se passer, mon cheri."

"I don't want ta hurt ya," tears started to stream down her cheeks as she held back the energy and voices, it all becoming too much.

"You can never hurt me," Remy's voice was nuzzled so close yet for the first time she wasn't worried that he might accidently touch her, she knew he was much too smart and clever for that to happen. "Calm, deep breaths…"

Rogue found her chest rising in long, languid breaths to match Gambit's own. Closing her eyes again she felt tranquility wash over her, basking in the strength her friend was lending her through his own belief that she could do this. Dimly she registered that her body collapsed under her, sinking against the thief as she first and foremost put everything she had into dissipating Havok's energy.

Once the heat stopping prickling her fingers she turned towards the voices, loud and pounding against the walls of her mind. Still wrapped safely in Remy's arms she picked out the psyches one by one and threw them violently into the abyss. Danvers, however, remained elusive as she was more than just a ghost. With each attack the absorbed mutant gained ground, testing the weaknesses, finding the cracks in the mortar.

Slowly, Rogue opened her eyes, blurred and dilated from her ordeal, but she could see the figures of many standing around the gazebo, fear and worry mixed on their faces.

"It's getting worse," Gambit said, still holding onto her and she was too weak to care.

"I'll be fine," she argued, not believing the sentiment for even a second but she felt vulnerable and that always made her defensive.

"Let me get you some help," his words were so soft and caring, "let me take you to—"

"No," she reacted violently, knowing who he was referring to. Rogue moved forward and he didn't fight her as she tried to stand. Her legs felt like jelly and she collapsed onto her rear, only Gambit grabbing her wrists keeping her from falling onto her back.

"Rogue," he held on tight, "do you trust me?"

Her head shot up and she met those dark red eyes again.

"Do you trust me?" he repeated.

Her mouth opened, giving the only answer there was left to give. "Yes."