Author's Note:

I decided not to keep everyone waiting so long since you've all been waiting like, 7 years for the last update… So here's what I have so far. Three chapters in one day. I hope everyone reviews and turns up to read it. I'm pretty excited to see how far this story (and my writing) has come.

~X~X~X~

"Logan, this is ridiculous!" Rogue railed at the Canadian. "Ah'm FINE! Ah told you - he didn't kidnap me! Ah WANTED t' go outside! Ah ASKED him t' take me! You can't blame Gambit for MY choice!"

Rogue sat in her wheelchair back in the medbay, her arms crossed and green eyes flaming. "Ah can't believe ya locked him up in that cell just because we went for a walk!"

"I told him," Wolverine growled, his own stance mimicking Rogue's. "If he left this room without an escort, he was goin' in the cell. He knew the consequences."

"He DID have an escort," Rogue bit out, wanting very much to hit the X-Men's 'leader.' "Me."

"Ha." Wolverine barked, his laugh harsh and sarcastic. "You can't even WALK right now, Rogue. If he had decided to dump you outta that chair and run off t' steal something, you wouldn't 've been able t' do a thing t' stop him."

The southern spitfire clenched her jaw. "Yeah, well, he didn't. MAYBE he ain't the terrible person you THINK he is, Logan. Did THAT ever cross your thick skull!? So far, he's saved me - TWICE, been nothing but civil and compliant while y'all have kept him locked up in this prison of a 'hospital,' and helped me get some fresh air b'fore ah went crazy from bein' cooped up f'r so long! He's been a model patient, a decent roommate, and he didn't even put up a fight when you locked him up!"

Wolverine said nothing, his eyebrow quirked at the young woman's vehemence.

"Let. Him. Out." Rogue growled, her eyes narrowed dangerously.

Wolverine shook his head, silent. He'd been leery about letting the two injured patients be in the same room before, but now that Rogue was suddenly acting like Gambit's personal attorney, he definitely wasn't going to allow them back together.

"Ahem," Beast cleared his throat from the doorway. "I'm afraid it's time you got back in bed, Rogue."

Neither of the X-Men's two most stubborn team members said anything and instead continued staring each other down.

"Logan?" Hank questioned, tipping his spectacles down. "Far be it from me to influence your leadership, but it WOULD behoove me to have both my patients in the same room instead of opposite sides of the facility."

"Forget it Hank," Wolverine finally tore his eyes away from Rogue's, who huffed and sulked deeper in her chair.

"Understood. I suppose I shall just make do with neglecting one patient for another as I sojourn across…"

"Can it, furball," Logan grouched. "Come on, kid, let's get ya back in bed." The team leader moved closer to Rogue, locking the chair's wheels before leaning down to pick her up.

The southerner immediately flinched, twisting away from him violently. "Don't touch me!" she yelled, panic and animosity flaring in her eyes. She looked from Hank to Logan and back again with disgust. "Ah'll - ah'll do it mahself."

"I'm afraid that's ill-advised," Dr. McCoy warned, stepping forward as Rogue inched toward the edge of her chair and ignored him.

She put her hands on the arm rests of the chair and started to stand, regardless. Her face scrunched in pain and concentration as her injured pelvic muscles clenched and burned. The second she started to wobble, Logan swooped in and picked her up abruptly, carefully placing her on the bed before she had a chance to protest.

His face was only inches from hers as he pulled his arms out from under her knees with an arrogant smirk. Without warning, Rogue slapped him hard, her eyes blazing furiously. "Keep your damn hands OFF me!" she shrieked, breathing hard.

The team leader withdrew slowly, his mouth set in a thin line as he stared at her. The angst and contempt in her eyes softened his expression and he turned, leaving without a word. In the hall, Storm and Jean stood in shock over Rogue's uncharacteristic behavior toward the man she used to worship.

As he stalked away, Jean reached out, wanting to reassure him. "Logan…"

"Save it Jeannie. She don't want me around, then I won't be around."

"Logan!" Storm narrowed her eyes, her tone biting, and he paused, turning toward her slightly. "You are the leader of the X-Men. Like it or not, you have an obligation to this team AND to Rogue. Her feelings are clouded by recent events, but you MUST respect her wishes."

"I ain't gonna cave t' her like some snot-nosed brat. Gumbo's stayin' in the cell and that's that."

"You know that is not the only factor at play, my friend." Storm's tone dropped as she tried to diffuse Wolverine's ire with compassion and empathy. "Rogue simply wants to feel some semblance of autonomy, independence… RESPECT. You refuse to listen to her, refuse to let her out of her bed, and not only ignore her wishes, but force your own will on her body. After what she has been through, is it surprising that she would react in such a way?"

Wolverine scrubbed a hand through his wild hair, his eyes cast down to the floor. The shame he felt was almost palpable, and he refused to meet the other women's eyes.

"I just - I don't know how t' help her, 'Ro. We're LOSIN' her. She's gotta move past this somehow, but the more I try t' help, the more she pulls away. I think she faults ME for what happened." He sighed, looking back toward the closed doors of the medbay. "And I don't blame her; I just - I don't know why. She won't talk t' me. Barely talks t' anyone at all. And we haven't heard from Chuck in weeks now. I'd bet money he'd know what's goin' on and what t' do for her."

"Perhaps you could release Gambit?" Jean spoke up. "Let him go back to the infirmary? Rogue makes a good point - he COULD have snuck out at any time. If what you've told me about him is true, he could probably break out of that cell and take off with Cerebro right now if he wanted."

"Good point." Wolverine gruffed. "I better add some motion sensor cameras around his cell."

"That's not…" Jean pinched the bridge of her nose, exasperated. "Logan, haven't you noticed? She acts DIFFERENTLY around Gambit. I don't know if it's because he doesn't know what happened to her, or if it's because he saved her whereas we … failed… when it mattered most. Perhaps she's just lashing out at ALL of us because we didn't get there in time. In any case, if she's opening up more when Gambit's around, then we certainly ought to encourage that, don't you think?"

The Canadian's nose twitched in a hint of a sneer. His arms were folded across his chest, eyes narrowed, as he contemplated the women's feedback.

He huffed. A short, hot snort of forced air as he dropped his arms, indignant. "Fine," he acquiesced. "But NOT until tomorrow. He can stay in time-out for tonight at least. Won't hurt Rogue to be separated from him for a single night. I'll … surprise her tomorrow. Maybe then she'll hate me a little less."

Jean gave the man a sympathetic smile and squeezed his shoulder. With another quiet 'harumph' he turned and left the medical wing of the sub basement to check on Gambit and reroute some more security.

~X~

It was just after midnight and all of the X-Men had finally gone off to sleep. Hank McCoy had been hard pressed to leave Rogue all alone overnight, but the Mississippi native convinced him that she had her call button and wouldn't try leaving her bed without assistance.

It was a shame he didn't notice her crossed fingers beneath the blankets.

Rogue had even coerced the furry blue doctor into removing the blood pressure cuff and heart rate monitor for the night. Claiming she wanted to retrain her body to sleep without the aid of drugs, it hadn't been a complete lie. For nearly three weeks, Beast had been running mild sedatives through her system at night so she could better rest and recover. That type of routine, however, had led to a sort of dependency, and now she found she had trouble sleeping without them. She claimed that since Gambit was no longer sharing the infirmary with her, she didn't feel guilty about waking him with her constant shifting and restlessness. It was relatively easy to get Hank to agree that it was a great night to start weaning her body off the sleep aides.

Trusting as he was, the blue furred doctor never considered that the young woman might have ulterior motives.

Now, Rogue only hoped Logan hadn't decided to stay up all night and keep watch over the monitors.

It took 20 minutes just for her to get out of bed. Over the course of the 3 weeks she'd been in the infirmary, her muscles had atrophied more than she cared to admit. Of course Hank had her doing mild exercises in bed to help ward off pneumonia, but it wasn't the same as carrying her full weight - diminished as it currently was.

When she had run away from the mansion, less than 2 weeks after the initial attack, she'd had a decent amount of time to heal. But that was then, and this was now - only 3 days since she had tried to take on Quicksilver, Toad, and Magneto. During her latest battle, she'd reopened several of the previously closed wounds in her lower extremities, fractured her right fibula, and cracked several new ribs (not to mention reinjuring some that had still been healing).

The cast on her right leg made walking slightly more difficult, but the real issue was quickly becoming her inflamed, excruciating ribs and lungs. She could barely breathe from the pain radiating both from her pelvis and her chest, but she was determined to accomplish her mission - even if it DID land her back in the infirmary for an extra two weeks.

She was absolutely LIVID with Logan for wrongfully imprisoning Gambit. After everything the cajun had done right, Wolverine still refused to give him an ounce of leniency. Well, if the X-Man's leader wasn't going to make things right and release Remy, then SHE would.

Rogue shuffled through the halls one baby step at a time, leaning against the wall as she shifted her weight along the smooth metal surface. At this rate, she wouldn't make it to the cells by Christmas, let alone morning. But on the bright side, well, at least she wouldn't trigger any motion sensors either.

She groaned inwardly as she realized she still had 3 more corridors to go…

~X~

Staring up at the ceiling from a hard cot, Remy was tossing cards through the centimeter thick slats in the top of the translucent plexiglass of his 'prison.' With a quick flick of his wrist, he tossed two at once, watching as they sailed through the first slat with ease, arced, and came back down through two different slats.

He smirked, deftly catching the cards between his fingers as they returned to him. There were at least a FEW cards which had gotten stuck on the ceiling while he calculated just the right arcs and angles. He figured the errant cards would be just one more thing to irritate Wolverine, so he wasn't too concerned about losing half a dozen cards or so.

The X-Men's leader had 'deposited' Gambit (to put it nicely) into a large rectangular room made of transparent plexiglass. Apparently this is what the X-Men used as their prison. The main door, through which Logan had dragged him earlier, sat at the top of a small platform and a set of stairs. As far as he could tell, it was the only way in and out of the room.

A small bathroom consisting of a toilet and a 6 inch recessed 'sink' that doubled as a water fountain branched off the main room. In the corner was a single lumpy cot, but there was also a cushy green chair and - strangely enough - a large television.

Outside the plexiglass prison was a huge motherboard and an open 'gathering space' most likely meant for interrogations.

He supposed there was some sort of power dampening system running through the cell, but it either wasn't working, or hadn't been turned on. He hadn't exhibited his powers, however, just in case the X-Men THOUGHT the system was supposed to be working.

He definitely didn't need his powers to break out of this pseudo-jail, however. He had scoped out the entire room over the last 12 hours and had already figured out at least 4 different ways out of the 'cell'. Five, if he counted simply blowing his way out.

There was another door leading from the sub basement to the interrogation room, from which his 'visitors' had been coming and going all day. He had spent at least an hour discussing classical literature with Dr. McCoy, two hours just talking to Kitty, and another couple hours doing his own physical therapy workouts.

But, he was bored now and insomnia had hit him hard. He knew he could just bust out and be gone well before Wolverine or the X-Men could get down here from their bedrooms - even with Wolverine's new 'motion sensor' cameras - but then he wouldn't be able to accomplish what he'd set out to do.

And, unfortunately, he couldn't just abscond from THAT, either.

With a sigh, Gambit closed his eyes, throwing a hand over his forehead to block out the obnoxious blinking lights from the dozen cameras and sensors that glowed in the darkness. Uncovering all of Rogue's secret turmoils had put a wrench in his proclivity to stay detached. He wasn't one to get involved anymore. Over the years he'd done things he wasn't proud of, but he'd mostly stayed professional - unwilling to get personally invested after being fooled too many times in his youth.

So why was this different? It should have been easy. He could have walked away right from the beginning. But his conscience had finally outweighed his sense of self-preservation. Remy knew he never could have stood by and watched Quicksilver - or Magneto for that matter - hurt the girl.

Even if he HADN'T needed…

But THAT was neither here nor there. Now, he was invested. His logical brain had lost the battle to his sense of honor and decency. Remy hadn't been lying about Cerisse. It had been one of his earliest - and most devastating - losses. He'd only been 12 at the time, and Cerisse was older - she had been a Guild 'babysitter' for a time when he was younger and he'd remained friends with the girl until the day she killed herself.

It was a moment that had shaped his predilection of loyalty and protectiveness for those he cared about. That, and his desire for justice - and sometimes vengeance.

After Cerisse, Remy LeBeau quickly became known throughout the Guild as a friend you could rely on - someone on whom you could always depend to have your back, defend your honor, or bail you out.

Once Remy LeBeau pledged his fealty to someone, there was very little he wouldn't do for them.

Of course, he'd learned to guard himself against false friends after being burned a few times, and he hadn't truly taken anyone under his wing in years. Especially after …

Well, THAT part of his life was over at least. Or would be very soon. Just one last job…

But for now, he had more pressing concerns. Knowing what Rogue had been through - and the parallels of her story to Cerisse's - he couldn't just walk away now. The girl was drowning and her own teammates had no idea why. She was still fighting, but it was a battle akin to canoeing upstream with only one paddle; exhaustion and isolation would win out sooner than anyone could predict.

Except Remy. He knew firsthand that the southern spitfire wouldn't be able to fight this war alone, even though that was exactly what she was determined to do. She stubbornly refused to let anyone else see her demons, let alone help lay them to rest. Rogue's own sense of loyalty and honor somehow prevented her from telling her friends the truth - that she'd been targeted; victimized by individuals set on revenge against the X-Men, or its leader. It was a truth so heinous, she was desperately trying to convince herself of her own lies; trying to bury her demons alive even though they would forever claw their way to the surface.

He was the only one who knew the extent of what Rogue was dealing with, and how truly broken she was. Despite his own battles and his own demons, he couldn't let her face this alone. He wouldn't. Call it penance, honor, or just a guilty conscience, he wouldn't abandon her. For the first time in years he was concerned with someone other than himself. He knew he had a mission and a deadline, but his moral burdens had finally outweighed self-preservation.

Now it was just a matter of HOW he was going to help her. Wolverine would probably kick him out in a matter of days - if not earlier - and it appeared Remy wouldn't be allowed anywhere near Rogue for the duration of his stay. If he tried to sneak out of the cell just to see her, it would appear suspicious to everyone, and he would lose all credibility with the X-Men. And God forbid they find out the reason he had come to New York in the first place…

He was stuck - at least for now.

Frustrated, he flicked the same card up through a different slat in the ceiling, but just as he released it, his ears perked at an almost inaudible sound coming from outside the prison room. The card sailed through the first slat but fluttered onto the top of the cell as Gambit sat up in the darkness.

"Eh?" He tilted his head and stood, shifting himself into the opposite corner so he could ascertain what was happening without getting ambushed.

The outer door to the main gallery near the motherboard opened with a metallic swish, but no one entered.

Gambit bristled, muttering french curses under his breath. If Wolverine was visiting him this late at night, it was likely he'd come for more than just idle chit-chat. There was always a chance, however, that it was someone more… sinister paying him a visit.

"Well, don' be shy mon ami," The cajun called, raising his voice in a warning growl. "Why don' you come on in?"

"Ya know…" A familiar, yet raspy southern voice whispered in the darkness before slowly entering. "You COULD wait …for a girl… t' volunteer." Breathing hard, Rogue leaned heavily on the door frame as she shuffled into the room with all the speed and grace of a turtle. Her casted right leg dragged across the floor inch by infinitesimal inch. Despite the darkness, Gambit could see the sickly pallor of her face and the sheen of sweat on her brow.

"Dieu, chere! Qu'est ce que tu crois faire?!" (what do you think you're doing?)

"Ah'm … bustin' ya out … swamp boy."

"Jesus Christ, Rogue, you're gonna HURT y'rself. I know y' t'ink y' got som'pin t' prove, but dis is just plain debile (moronic)."

"Ain't… right."

Rogue continued to shuffle across the floor, increasing her pace as she tried to make it to the mainframe before Logan was alerted by the security system.

"You helped me…" she huffed between gasps and winces as her ribs and abdomen protested their overuse. "Now ah'm … helpin' you."

She finally reached the computer console with all the gadgets and buttons for the mansion's security system and sighed in relief. "Wolverine's got …no right… t' keep ya prisoner."

With a few clicks and commands, the doors at the top of the stairs whooshed open, heralding Gambit's freedom. The plexiglass on the main level remained as a barrier between them, however, and the cajun walked toward Rogue rather than the open door. Panting, she leaned on the supercomputer's table top while she tried to quell the fire in her lungs and ribs.

"Get gone, Remy… Ah've disa -…" her breathing was sounding more and more shallow as she tried in vain to fill her lungs with air. "-abled the whole …system. Ya should… make it… t' the g-gates." Rogue's fingers clenched the dashboard, going white with effort as she tried to remain upright.

"Merde, girl, y' need t' sit down 'fore ya pass out." Remy glanced at the stairs once, then back at Rogue, weighing his choices.

She shook her head lightly, not raising her eyes, and swayed on her feet. At this point she wasn't sure HOW to sit down without toppling over or reopening her sutures.

Damn it, but Ororo was going to put that stupid catheter back in for sure.

Her brilliant idea of 'rescuing' Gambit from the cell was suddenly feeling really stupid. Her vision swam briefly as she struggled to breathe and she suddenly felt like she was on a carousel ride. Her legs finally gave out, and she waited for the pain to shoot through her body.

Instead, she felt warmth and softness, and only the slightest twinge of pain to her ribs.

"Shh, shh, I got ya, petite. I got ya." Remy was suddenly nestled beside her, slinging her arm over his shoulder as he supported her around the waist. There were two of him, as well as matching pairs of holes in the plexiglass wall. She couldn't be totally sure with the way her vision blurred, but it appeared as if he had simply MELTED the thing.

"Dat was a dumb t'ing you did ma chere. Noble, but dumb."

"You…" she panted, practically writhing between the pain and lack of oxygen. "... gotta go."

"I gotta get y' back in BED is what I gotta do." He abruptly, but gently scooped Rogue up under the knees, noting how she groaned when her ribs compressed.

He whirled, intent upon sprinting to the infirmary to get McCoy and some oxygen, when he came face to face with Wolverine.

Gambit knew it looked bad. WORSE than bad, in point of fact. Melted cell wall, disabled alarms, and an X-Man practically passed out in his arms. Wolverine wasn't the type to accept an explanation, let alone ask questions, and Rogue wasn't exactly in a state to defend him.

"She -" Gambit stammered, his eyes widening for just a moment.

"I know. I saw." The Canadian held up a tablet with a video of the three of them standing in the gallery. "Hank's headin' to the infirmary now." His face was dark and hard, but his eyes flickered to Rogue's with woe and wariness. "You got her?"

Remy looked down at Rogue, who was panting hard, her eyes scrunched closed in what could only be described as agony. A surge of protectiveness and affection welled in his chest and he set his jaw in a thin line.

"Oui, I got her."

Logan gave a curt nod and stepped aside, letting Gambit sweep the young woman off to the infirmary.

~X~

Gambit sat in his hospital bed next to Rogue and marveled at the girl. A large breathing mask pulsed steady waves of oxygen into her overtaxed lungs. The blood pressure cuff and pulse oximeter had been replaced on her arm and finger, and a new pic line inserted into her left wrist. Apparently she had even ripped out her other I.V. while trying to get out of bed to 'rescue' Remy.

The cajun thief couldn't fathom why she had risked her own health and safety just to release him from the X-Men's 'prision.' He knew she felt responsible for his injuries, but there was definitely more to it than that. Was she scared that he'd tell someone her secret? He'd given his word that he wouldn't, but knew she didn't believe him. With all the stories she'd probably heard about him, why would she?

Silent, he studied the girl with furrowed brows. She was a puzzle. Beautiful and witty, with a tongue as sharp as steel, and as stubborn as the Canadian standing outside the doors - perhaps moreso. The other man in the room, Beast, worried over her, adding new medications to her I.V. and adjusting the outflow of oxygen to balance her sudden hypoxemia. He listened intently to her lungs for a moment, frowning slightly and shaking his head.

McCoy busied himself by attaching a few more nodes and wires while he awaited Storm and Scott's arrival. The acting physician needed a female assistant present in order to check Rogue's wounds, and Scott had been summoned to 'babysit' Gambit since they now had no decent cells left to hold him.

Dressed in a long, flowing white nightgown and matching robe, Storm entered the room with a flourish, snatching a pair of scrubs, an apron, and a hair net from the cupboard by the door. Her eyes were dark with concern more so than anger, and she said nothing as she quickly scrubbed up and moved to help Hank.

Cyclops stood in his drawstring pants and blue t-shirt in the doorway, his arms folded. He never took his eyes off Gambit.

"What happened?" the former leader demanded, his tone biting and accusatory.

Gambit's own eyes narrowed, flashing red before he pulled his playing cards from his pocket and shuffled them silently.

Wolverine spoke up from his gargoyle position outside the doors. "New cameras picked up movement in the holding bay. Seems Rogue went and decided t' break this swamp scum out. She shut down all the security systems so he could get away."

"And you caught him?" Scott cocked his head, his brow furrowed as he glanced between the Cajun and the Canadian.

Wolverine shook his head. "He didn't leave. Saw she was in bad shape and made a choice. He was whiskin' her back here when I got there."

"Come, Henry, Rogue should probably get another round of X-Rays. Goddess knows she probably refractured SOMETHING." Storm's ire could be felt by the tingle of electricity in her step and the flash of lightning in her eyes.

"If she keeps this up, she may start glowing in the dark." Hank quipped, but the joke failed to procure more than a few tilted smiles.

Storm's exasperation was not quelled, however, and Wolverine heard her grumble under her breath as she and McCoy wheeled Rogue's hospital bed out of the room,

"Let her HOPE she didn't rupture any more sutures…"

~X~

An hour later Gambit had begun pacing back and forth in the hospital room as he and Cyclops waited for Storm and Beast to bring Rogue back from their examination.

A single playing card danced between the fingers of Remy's right hand as he strode from the wall to the door and back again. His left arm was back in a sling after aggrieving his own injuries by carrying Rogue.

From a chair next to the doors, Scott Summers watched the man with curiosity. For the three days he'd been here, Gambit had exhibited nothing but a calm, even temperament. The New Orleans native rarely showed any emotion, and he certainly didn't PACE.

It was almost amusing to see the thief this jittery. Amusing, yet disturbing.

Gambit had not only stayed at the mansion without protest for the last three days, but he'd also flat out refused to take off when Rogue had handed him his freedom on a silver platter. For a known thief and miscreant, he certainly wasn't acting the part. Cyclops wondered what it was about Rogue that had caught Gambit's fancy. Were his intentions pure, or was he using her to gain something else?

He watched as Gambit paused at the double doors and watched down the hall expectantly, his ears perked for any sign of the others.

No, Cyclops mused. These weren't the mannerisms of a man who was staging a con. He was genuinely worried about Rogue. The former leader of the X-Men caught the cajun's muttered words as he turned from the doors and paced across the room again.

"Why dat girl gotta be so…"

Scott couldn't help it. He barked with laughter, tempting Gambit's ire.

"Quoi?" (what) Remy hissed. "Wha's funny?"

"Stubborn?" Scott supplied, his mouth quirking into a smile. "You should see her when we're trying to run a mission. She doesn't like a decision? She'll fold her arms, give a death glare, and argue until everyone's blue in the face."

Gambit's face softened slightly as the card in his hand suddenly disappeared and he ran his fingers through his hair. With a sigh, he sat down in a chair opposite of Scott.

"Jus' don't understand why she'd do som'pin so dumb for dis one." The card was back in Gambit's left hand again, and the X-Man caught a glimpse of it before it became a blur through the thief's deft fingers.

The Queen of Hearts.

Scott chortled again, a wide smile splitting his face. "You and me, both. But Rogue's …" he paused, his face contemplative as he struggled to find the right words. "She's principled. Loyal, and honorable. If something doesn't feel right, she won't stop until it does. If she feels like she owes you a debt, she won't let it go. She likes to pretend she's tough and disinterested, but she truly cares - even about people like you." He gave Gambit a dubious look and the cajun simply smirked and shrugged in response. "Like I said, stubborn."

Gambit snorted, looking out at the empty hallway again.

Scott checked his watch. It was almost 3 a.m.

"I wonder what's taking them?" the X-Man wondered aloud. "90 minutes for some X-Rays and bandages?"

Remy's heart quickened. One-eye didn't know about her other - intimate - injuries, and Ororo's mention of sutures could only mean one thing. Initially the cajun hadn't know just how bad Rogue's primary injuries were either - just that she'd been kidnapped, beaten, and left for dead. He'd only verified his suspicions that she'd been raped during their walk yesterday. But if the X-Men were taking this long to patch Rogue up, it was very likely she'd torn a few more stitches while trying to 'rescue' the thief.

Gambit's knee bounced almost subconsciously, and the Queen of Hearts fell from his fingers abruptly. Scrubbing his face with his good hand, he leaned down to collect the card when it floated from the ground of its own accord, landing back in his hand.

With a raised eyebrow, the cajun sat up straight as Cyclops rose and walked over to his girlfriend, giving her a kiss on the temple.

"What are you doing up?" He asked the redhead, his brow furrowed.

"Beast called me telepathically. They need some help and wanted me to let you guys know what's going on first."

Remy stood suddenly. The vibes coming off the redhead were serious.

"'S bad, ain't it?" the thief asked, his dark eyes flashing dangerously.

"Yes and no." Jean supplied, squeezing Scott's hand as she gave Gambit an understanding smile.

"Her right lung has partially collapsed. Hank says it's probably been a slow decline over the last few days and Rogue just refused to tell anyone she was having a hard time breathing."

"Why ain't I s'prised?" Gambit drawled dryly.

"Told you - stubborn," Cyclops chuckled lightly. He turned his attention back to Jean. "So it wasn't a result of her daring rescue?" The X-Man raised an eyebrow in Gambit's direction as he tried to remind himself that it wasn't the thief's fault his teammate had made another ill-begotten choice.

Jean shook her head. "No. In fact, Hank's fairly certain that this latest stunt may have actually saved her life. If she hadn't pushed herself so hard, they wouldn't have done the X-Rays and caught it in time."

Gambit released a sigh, his poker face slipping momentarily. So it hadn't been his fault after all. If she'd been seriously injured while sneaking around on his behalf…

"How dey gonna fix it?"

Jean winced. "Well, that's the bad news. We've got to do a surgical fixation - attach plates to a few ribs that have shifted and are pressing into her lungs, which requires anesthesia. But anesthesia also contributes to the problem. Her lungs need exercise to reinflate, but the surgery to FIX her lungs means more rest. She's going to be completely bedridden for at least 3 days."

"Oh boy," Scott ran a hand through his hair.

"She ain't gonna like dat none," Gambit articulated what everyone was thinking.

Jean smiled, shaking her head to confirm that no, she would NOT like that.

"She's going to need to do a lot more exercises as soon as she can stand up. As much as she hates the assistance and doesn't want to be touched, she's going to have to suck it up. My telekinesis can help, but if I were to lose my concentration and drop her…"

"Ain't worth d' risk." Gambit acknowledged again.

"Does Wolverine know?" Scott asked. "He took off right after…"

"Yes, he's been in trying to contact …" Jean stopped, her eyes darting suspiciously to Gambit before she looked back at Scott, who nodded.

"Any word yet?" The X-Man asked, his expression grim and lost.

Jean shook her head again. "No, I'm afraid not."

Gambit wisely chose not to ask, understanding that this related to something the X-Men couldn't trust him with - at least not yet.

"Look, I've got to go, they need my help to mold the metal plate…" Jean started.

"Metal?" Remy questioned, stepping forward as concern marred his features.

"Yes…?" Jean trailed off, curious. "Titanium, specifically."

"Non, dat's a bad idea. Specially wit' Magento sportin' a grudge. He'd rip her whole damn ribcage out." Gambit's tone rose and he had to keep himself from snarling as he considered the implications. "Y' need t' use a biomaterial. Got a contact - she uses a 3D printer; she can make it for us b'fore dawn if'n Rogue can wait dat long. Just need d' specs. She ain't far from here - few hours by bike 's all. Faster than dat by jet. Tell Wolverine I need m' cell phone back so I can make de call."

Jean hesitated just a moment before nodding, giving Scott's hand a squeeze, and jogging back down the corridor to the operating room, telepathically communicating with Wolverine simultaneously.

~X~X~X~X~X~