Hated writing this one, had to drag it out word by word. But I am proud of our guy.

Part 37: Both, And.

De entire world broke apart and I found myself floating in time and space. No sense o' direction, dimension, or place. Flailing, I sought any contact to give me some kinda orientation, but dat failing I eventually pulled myself into a ball, checking my senses fo' grounding. Dere was no sound, no smell, de taste in my mouth had vanished. Some dim movements o' light emerged and faded, no pattern, not'ing discernible. I sensed de space around me stretching out and out in all directions, and I slowly, cautiously released my hold on myself, stretching my arms and legs back out into de void. I closed my eyes, and immediately sensed dat I was not alone.

"Who's dere?" My voice wandered out befo' me into seeming oblivion.

I tried again, a little bolder, slowly getting some kind o' bearing. "Show yo'self!"

Still, I saw and heard not'ing, but felt acutely aware o' anuddah presence, and certain dat dis presence was aware o' me.

"Can anybody hear me?" I called out, louder.

No answer. Fo' all dis space, it was starting to feel claustrophobic. Finally, I heard a very quiet sound, barely audible but impossible to miss in de present silence.

It was like a low breeze, a buzz. I focused on it, and it grew into a hum. It was…voices…whispers…thousands, maybe millions, indiscernible from each uddah as they toppled over and over. De sound grew, increasing my frustration as dey increased in volume and I couldn' seem to follow a single strand, make out a single word, but somet'ing in it sounded familiar. All o' it sounded familiar, but like echoes underwater.

As de sound built and built, I found myself wincing away from de noise, de crescendo o' it a violent cacophony. I covered my ears automatically, but I found no relief. De roar forced its way in and I was helpless against it. It created a kind o' pressure where I t'ought my head might burst if it wouldn' stop.

"SHUT UP! BE QUIET!" I hollered to no one in particular.

De return o' de silence was so sudden it was as startling as a gunshot and I jumped in spite o' myself. De emptiness closed in again as my eyes once again breathlessly searched de dark. I tried to sift once mo' through de dim lights as they dully waxed and waned. I could see movement, somet'ing in dem, but couldn' make out de shapes.

At last, a voice rang out, rich and regal. "Here I thought I would have to begin a war for your soul…instead I find myself in the middle of one."

I hate to admit I was too relieved to have anyone else wit' me dat I responded too quickly, wit'out really t'inking, "I don' believe in souls."

"There is no use in deception, though if it gives you comfort feel free to cling to it. I can see it comes very naturally to you."

I tried in vain to find de source o' de voice, "You act like you know me."

"Of course. 'You' is where we are. I have eyes to see and ears to hear."

I gave a hard chuckle, "You got bad directions, homme, dis is no place I've ever been."

He remained calm, "Haven't you?" When I didn' answer, he continued, "Someone of your intellect is disinclined to miss metaphors."

My eyes kept darting here, dere, everywhere, but not'ing to see but de dim, pulsing, frustrating lights. "Metaphor is a literary device, mon ami. Un jeu de mots (wordplay). It defies de definition to make it literal."

I felt somet'ing o' appreciation, but I had no idea how, and I wasn' sure how to feel about it.

"Touche. You excel at discourse, young one."

"Enough flattery. You have my attention. What exactly do I have to do to get out o' here?"

"That isn't up to me, per se."

"Can I speak to yo' manager, in dat case?"

Humor didn' land quite as winsomely as intellect and so received no response. "As I said before, 'you' are where we are. You cannot escape yourself."

"Even if I believed dat, which I don', dere are far better versions o' me to visit."

Gentle curiosity, "By all means, show me."

"Gambit's not one to perform on cue."

"Then we wait here," de voice answered patiently, unbothered by de prospect.

My anxiousness grew. I didn' like it here. He sounded like he was happy enough to tarry…I could handle dat fo' now, but I suspected if we had to play chicken over it I'd lose.

"Can I phone a friend? Would it spoil yo' aesthetic to give a clue?"

Mo' gentle curiosity. "Are you willing to learn from me?"

"My educational background is already full of suspicious characters. What's one mo'?"

"Words, phrases, jest…they have been a shield for you. You couldn't stop if your life depended on it, could you?"

Dere was no judgment, but dis familiar, all-knowing tone was making me feel salty.

"My life has often depended on it. Is dat what I'm facing here?"

I sensed movement and my eyes were desperate to focus on somet'ing, but dis whole place remained too slippery even fo' me. My question was ignored, met with anuddah instead.

"How would you describe this place?"

"I wouldn'."

"You wished to learn. You admittedly prefer dialectics. Come now, how would you describe it?"

Trying to stay calm, I decided my only real option was to engage de voice. "Empty."

A sense o' approval. "Yes. Go on."

"Untethered."

"Better. And the opposite of untethered?"

It was hard to t'ink, floating around, but I tried. "Connected."

"Yes! Exactly! A place of disconnection. Here, you are disconnected from everyone, everything. Nothing defines you, nor your world."

"Ok, dat's one fo' Gambit. How many do I need to get right?"

"Don't be shortsighted. What is disconnection?"

I felt my face screw up in frustration. "Dis an English class?"

"If you'd prefer we can continue en francais."

"Non, merci. Let's carry on. You wan' de definition o' disconnection?"

"Only relative to you."

"What de devil is dat supposed to mean?"

De voice seemed energetic, as though we were on course fo' some kinda epiphany. "What does disconnection mean for you?"

An answer jumped to the front o' my t'oughts, but reflexively I pushed it down. He continued as though I'd said it aloud. "Correct! Safety. Disconnection is the only safe place for you. This is the place you orbit, the place you run to, but you can never bring yourself to stay here."

"You keep out of my head," I tried to make my voice dangerous, but de preciseness o' his perception had me shook.

"How can I, while we're here? Can you honestly say this place is totally unfamiliar to you?" He barely waited fo' an answer, because we bot' already knew it. "Now then. Why do you come here, hating it so? What is it you seek to escape?"

"Conversation is supposed to go bot' ways, mon ami. Why don' you take a turn? What brings you here?"

Dere was a long pause. De gentility o' de voice didn' match de response when he finally answered. "I am going to break you."

My hands went to my body, searching fo' somet'ing to charge, but I couldn' even seem to make contact wit' my own self. "May have tried, homme, so far no dice."

"I suppose it would be futile to encourage you not to be afraid, but rest assured, I also intend to remake you."

"Gambit leaves little to improve upon as it is, why waste yo' talents?"

Suddenly de space lit up wit' bright, rushing light, nearly blinding me. Though it crashed out in all directions, it couldn' find de edges o' dis chasm. It did, however, give me vision o' En Sabah Nur, not as he had been a moment ago in de lab, but as massive as a mountain. I was small enough to fit in de palm o' his hand, small enough dat he could swallow me whole, and his face was angry enough dat I t'ought he might.

"Why are you all so desperate to remain SMALL?! Have you no idea who you are? Answer me: what are you escaping?"

Startled to near panic, I blurted out, "I don' wan' to know who I am!"

He moved so dat he was eye to eye wit' me, and it was terrifying. His eyes were larger than my entire person, full o' sudden rage dat I couldn' undahstand or defend against.

"Ridiculous! You know fully who you are!"

"NO! Not'ing is written in stone!"

"MUCH is written in stone. My story, my fate, are they not carved into the very rock? You think you are different?"

"I AM!"

"Then why hide here? Face yourself!

I felt my feet trying desperately to take flight, but wit not'ing beneat' dem it was no use.

"To where would you flee, little one?"

His voice was over, underneat', inside, in between, everywhere.

"WHERE?!" He demanded again, and all once dere was a sound like shattering glass.

"Alons-y, Remy! Hurry! In here!" Felt like my lungs were on fire, but I pushed my strides to keep up with Henri's longer legs, dragging Etienne behind me. I hoped Theoren was ok. We made it into de derelict buildin' and hit de dirt, trying not to make a sound even though we all wanted to gasp fo' air. It felt like we were waiting dere fo' an eternity, holding in torturous breaths while we listened fo' sounds o' pursuit. After a few minutes dere were some kind o' shufflin' footsteps outside, uncertain, low French muttering in de alleyway. After some time, it faded away.

Finally we let loose and started catchin' our breath, laughing and clapping each uddah on de backs. A pack o' rascals between de ages of twelve and seventeen, learning how to be crooked togeddah.

"De T'ieves Guild strikes again!" Henri crowed proudly, and I felt guilty even though I was determined not to show it. Maman wouldn' be happy if she knew. I still t'ought about her, but pushing dose t'oughts away was becoming near-automatic.

Theoren stepped out o' de shadows in de back, "Hardly a win wort' celebratin'. You pups made it in by de skin o' yo' teeth."

Henri started at Theoren's sudden appearance, but den rolled his eyes and puffed his chest up at de older boy, "Come on, Theoren, you sound like Papa. We made it, didn' we?"

"You'd have done better if you hadn't been dragging babies behind you."

I jutted my chin out, forcing myself to meet his eyes, "Me and Etienne could take you anytime, big mouth."

Theoren's eyes glinted dangerously. He crouched down and I planted a foot behind me. He lurched fo'ward and I couldn' help but jump. He and Henri broke out in uproarious laughter. I scowled at Theoren but he mussed my hair.

"Come off it Remy, I'm jus' razzing. Now what did you manage to lift?"

Begrudgingly, I unzipped my jacket and a bunch o' candy, chips, and cigarettes fell out.

Mo' cheers o' success. Henri clapped me on de back, "Nice haul!" I felt my bad mood dissipating wit' de praise.

"How about you, Et?"

I turned and looked over my shoulder where Etienne should have been, wit' his lopsided grin and a dimple on one side. Always had an expression on his face like he was winding up fo' a punchline. He was supposed to proudly display de canned beer and soda he'd managed to snag. We were supposed to all congratulate him and laugh ourselves red in de face when he opened de first can only fo' it to explode all over him. Dat's how dis played out.

So where was Etienne?

Not where he was supposed to be, still lying dere facedown in de dirt, holding his breath.

I couldn' ever t'ink o' Etienne anymo' wit'out dis image superimposed.

Henri and Theoren looked concerned and started to approach him, but I hissed out, "Don' touch him!" Dey paid me no mind as dey moved to roll him over. I knew what we would see.

Face slack, mouth open, eyes wide. Death caught him by surprise. My fault.

Wit' anuddah sound o' shattering glass, I was back in de swirlin' darkness with de monstrous form o' En Sabah Nur lurking in de shadows.

"YOU GOT NO RIGHT!"

De giant paid me no mind. His voice was detached, clinical. "How strange. It was a good, safe place once. It should have been still. But the boy's death…it's uncontained. It eats away, consumes outside it's bounds."

I was swinging wildly, trying to find some piece o' him I could lay a charge on. How could somet'ing so big stay out o' reach?

"This is the astral plane, young one. Physical reality here is suspended in favor of mental realities. You are wasting precious energy."

"S' mine to waste!"

"Very well then. Here we are, back again. How long shall we remain this time? How long can you stand it?"

"I don' know what yo' talking about!"

Patience. He was incredibly patient. Unhurried. The dim lights continued as I writhed, suspended once again in dis place o' disconnection.

"You wish to fight me. Why?"

"So I can get de hell outta here!"

"I've told you before, I'm not the one keeping you here. This whole place belongs to you. You've built it painstakingly, and yet you cannot endure it. It must be exhausting for you."

Since I was failing to accomplish anyt'ing beyond disgracing myself, I willed myself back into stillness. Come on, t'ink Remy, t'ink!

Can't fight. Can't run. Can't conjure a charge. Need to stay calm.

"You sound like you care. S' almos' convincing."

"I have no need to be inauthentic. I am not without compassion. I know, perhaps better than anyone, how hard it is to let go of self. Ego. And yet, how futile to hold on."

"You haven't made a lick o' sense yet."

"That is because you are resisting. You need time."

I tried to keep a hold on myself. Every second we stayed in dis void de more I hated it. It was unnatural. Suffocating.

I sensed quiet acknowledgement from my companion. "You built this place to protect yourself, at great pains, and yet the best of your efforts prove themselves merely the tools of your demise. Flee again, when you are ready. You will see."

I hate to be at anybody's beck an' call, but I couldn' stand it here. I tried once again to move my legs but was unable to, lacking a proper form.

"Shall I help you?"

De brilliant white light came back on, and En Sabah Nur's gigantic form rushed at me, mouth agape as though he really was planning to swallow me whole. I instinctively tried to retreat but couldn'. Couldn' even close my eyes.

As he made to close his powerful jaws over me, again I heard de sound o' shattering glass.

De taste o' bile was still fresh in my mout' from retching on de cold stone floor, de sounds o' screams ringing in my ears. I had never seen murder befo' my very eyes.

I had to do somet'ing, anyt'ing, but I was terrified, paralyzed wit' fear. What could I do against dis many men, all armed at dat? I had to get out o' here, dat's all I could do. I wanted my Papa. He would know what to do.

I tested my shaky legs, desperately trying to get back on my feet. I took a few tentative steps back de way we had come, when somet'ing caught my ear.

"Scalphunter. Do something about this."

Harpoon's voice held an edge of uncertainty dat I had never heard from him befo'. Unwittingly, I cast a glance over my shoulder and saw her. Little thing. Pink hair. Practically a bebe. Scared, even mo' dan I was.

I couldn' tear my eyes away, but my stomach rolled again, knowing what I would see if I didn'.

Scalphunter turned and scoffed, "Everyone wusses out when it comes to the kids. I don't get it. They're just small, stupid versions of all the people you've already scored."

My legs took off as he lowered his weapon, aiming at de little one. I couldn' possibly live with dis. I couldn' possibly live through dis. She let out a pitiful wail, a sound I could never unhear.

I snatched her up jus' befo' de blast.

"Gambit you idiot!" Scalphunter called.

I didn' respond or stop, I jus' ran.

With a shattering, I found myself back, once again, suspended in de dark, flailing.

A low chuckle rang out around me. "What an odd choice. Do you really consider this place worse than that one? But of course, you wanted to reassure yourself of your goodness. Your worthiness to be saved."

Quiet fell, and I didn' respond. I was feeling…disoriented. I could feel de agony o' going back through my worst moments, but I had no body to catch the trauma. No heart to race, no breath to gasp, no hands to shake, no tears to cry. It was agony, to only be able to feel wit' my mind.

"You've visited this moment many times. It comforts you to know that she's safe, thanks to you. Preposterous. Surely, you did not fail to notice the true object of your rescue?"

"I'm not in de mood fo' riddles."

"You said you were willing to learn."

"Willing and able are two different t'ings."

"It's a simple question. You should be able to answer it. In your little vignette, who did you save?"

I meant to say it wit' obvious disdain, but I had little practice wit' saying her name out loud. It came out gently, "I saved Sarah."

"WRONG!"

Lights and crashing.

I forced my voice to be hard, "Let go o' me, Rogue."

She shook her head quickly, desperately, "Ah can't."

Her voice broke. No. Please no.

Her eyes filled and de tears spilled over, running down her cheeks in agonizing torrents. In all dis time, I had never seen de girl cry. I had watched her be tortured by Sinister. I had watched her stand up to de team when dey hated her, distrusted her. I had watched her confront de mother who had never loved her. I had seen de pain dance perilously close to de surface, but she had always choked it back through sheer force o' will. She kept it to herself, shoved it down an' held it dere. Why wasn' she doing dat now?

Her body shook wit' de force o' her sobs, and her face was unbearable to me. She was choking, trying to draw breaths but her lungs wouldn' cooperate. Her face grew red as de violent pain thrashed its way out o' her eyes. It was hard to undahstand her words as dey tumbled broken from her lips.

"Please don't go. Oh, god, please don't do this!"

I froze, unable to move or speak. Her pain cried out to me in a way that was wholly unfamiliar. I couldn' stand it, it had to be stopped, it was intolerable. I would give anyt'ing to make it stop.

Another crash. Back again.

"You could give un homme whiplash if you keep dis up."

Another laugh. Infuriating. "How very…interesting…"

"Glad to have amused," I spat venomously.

"You keep blaming me. How am I to blame? Who built all this, Gambit?"

I felt…brittle. I needed to steady myself.

"You seem to think I did."

"Are these not your memories? Your choices? Your history?"

"Why you got such an interest?"

"Because I can succeed where you have failed, whenever you are ready."

Unable to gain any kind o' upper hand, I rolled over instead, making my tone pleasant, "D'accord. Bon. Go on ahead. Get to fixing."

"Answer my question then. In your memory just now: who did you protect?"

I needed help. I said her name de way one might pray to a saint, "Ma chere."

"WRONG AGAIN."

De lights came on again and I braced myself fo' a crash and an alternate dimension, but dis time it did not come. En Sabah Nur stood a long ways off, looking mo' normal sized dis time. But between us, suspended in de same horrible chasm, were uddah figures. Familiar figures. Morbid figures.

Etienne's wide eyes stared at me from his frozen face, blond hair and skin dripping wit' water. Julien Boudreaux's fine silk shirt was drenched in blood. Morlocks whose names I did not know but whose faces were engraved into my memory drifted, macabre sculptures o' violence.

I screamed, and den de crash came.

I stood at de graveside, my pudgy hand in Henri's bigger one. I stared at de white roses and calla lilies dat covered de casket. Maman was in dere, but she wasn'. I know, I had seen back at de parlor. Her but not her.

Maman was different. She was no t'ief. She was good. Like an angel. Now they said she was a real angel. She wanted me to be good too.

I was scared and angry. I didn' wan' to be good. Good people leave. Good people break yo' heart.

Henri was crying. Even Theoren and Etienne were crying. Papa wasn' crying. Papa's face was empty.

I didn' wan' to feel dis ever again. Being good wasn' worth it. I wanted a stone face like Papa.

Wit' a crash that was becoming familiar, I found myself back in de void, but lights still on, figures still looming all around me.

"How long will you run? To where will you go? Who are you protecting?"

"SOMEBODY HELP!"

"That will do you no good."

"SOMEBODY! ANYBODY!"

"The sooner you answer truthfully, the sooner it will end."

"I will not let you break me!"

"There's nothing here that belongs to me. It's all yours. All I brought is the light. Can you see clearly yet?"

"What do you wan't me fo'?!"

Compassion. I felt it swell from him towards me, and it drew me towards him. I couldn' help myself. I was too desperate. I found myself drifting past the horrific specters, closer to En Sabah Nur.

"Healing, my son. It's time you were healed."

He wanted me to feel comfort, but it seems I couldn' even conjure a memory of it, "De past can' be undone."

"No. It cannot."

"Den dere's no healing."

"Not if you keep repeating it. Stop deceiving yourself, Gambit. Stop running away. Stop hiding. Realize your mistake."

I felt somet'ing sharp in my mind's eye, somet'ing fragile in de periphery. It wasn' actually visible, jus' a feeling. I flinched away from it, and dere was annuddah shattering.

De boxseat o' my bedroom window was familiar, but de figure inside it was new.

Her hand drifted from my shoulder to de side o' my face.

"Are you gonna be ok, sugah?"

Fo' a half second all I could do was stare, bewildered. But den de compulsion overwhelmed me and I reached out, wrapping my arm around her waist, pulling her close and tight. As always, she froze under my touch, but not fo' long. Wit' a deep breath, she relaxed and put her arm around me, holding me every bit as tight as I was holding her, stroking my hair wit' her uddah hand.

I felt somet'ing I hadn' been able to put words to at de time. It was a feeling I so seldom felt dat I could hardly remember it's name: welcome. I felt welcome. It was like a breath o' air to a drowning man. Solid ground to someone in freefall.

No matter what she did or said or meant to feel, she always made me feel welcome, and I hadn' been able to get enough o' it.

I begged whatever power could hear me…please let me stay here.

En Sabah Nur burst through the door of my room, his hulking form totally alien in dis familiar place.

"Who are you protecting?!"he demanded.

He snapped his fingers and de scene changed instantly. I was in de subbasement o' de X-mansion, lighting de halls wit' de glow from my eyes.

Rogue was still dere and I fixed my gaze on her, but now her face gave me no comfort.

"It's ok Remy. Everything's fine. Irene's power gives her a bit of flair foah the dramatic. Take a deep breath."

I tried, but where normally dose green eyes would have made de world seem all right, de idea o' her death at my hands almos' made dem impossible to bear. Not ag'in. Not dis time. It had to stop somewhere. A person can' go through life destroyin' everyt'ing dey touch. I had to be capable o' doing good at some point. Please not her.

Another crash, another drop into de void. De space was mercifully empty again, but En Sabah Nur stood far off…and he had Rogue in his grasp. He held her in front o' him with a fistful o' her hair, and she winced as she dangled helplessly.

I willed myself towards them wit' de haste and fury o' a demon, but fast as I flew de space stretched…I could gain no ground.

"Is this what you came here for?" his voice was exasperated.

"LEAVE HER ALONE!" I roared at him, but he was unmoved.

"You're here to save her. Is that what you think?"

"YES! I will save her! I don' care de cost!"

"Stop lying, Gambit."

"I'm not lying!"

"YOU ARE LYING."

"Not to her!"

"TO YOU."

"Stop it! I'll do whatever you say jus' stop it!"

"Answer the question. Who are you protecting? Who are you saving?"

The sharp feeling at de edge o' my t'oughts came back in force. Rogue's pained expression was a knife in my ribs as her green eyes locked on mine, begging helplessly for mercy.

"Remy, please just tell him the truth!" her voice was desperate as she struggled to free herself, but even wit' all her strength, she couldn' dislodge his grip.

He reached out wit' his uddah hand, twisting it cruelly around her throat.

"DON'T! DON'T! DIEU, S'IL VOUS PLAIT!"

"Answer." He said calmly, tightening his grasp.

"I don' know what you wan' me to say!"

"The truth. It's time."

"I'll tell you anyt'ing you wan' to hear, please, PLEASE!"

"Who have you saved? Who have you protected? Who have you preserved, leaving such a trail of blood? Who profited from your efforts?"

The sharp feeling gave way, a horrible shearing sensation, like flesh stripped from bone.

"ME!" I screamed.

De lights went out, and I found myself as I had started out. In de dark, dimly undulating lights, unending space.

Once again, he met me wit' compassion. I recoiled from him, ashamed.

"At last. Yes. Correct. Truthful."

I felt collapsed, despite my lack of form. Exhausted. Bitter, bitter shame, wit' no escape.

"You have been on your own for so long, and you did what you must to survive. When the cards fell, you always persisted. Even when it hurt. Even when it was hard. Even when it came with sacrifices. You have been your own guard. Too long."

He was normal sized now, jus' a man, and I could see his dark outline as he moved through de space.

"But it is exactly your unwillingness to let go of the self that predicates disaster, repeatedly. It is this desperate clinging that brings you to such despair, again and again. If you could only let go…"

I felt him pull me up, though I didn' understand how I could perceive his touch, formless as I was here. I didn' have the energy to wonder.

"I could take all that pain. Quiet the noise. Fill this terrible emptiness. And give you the power to stop this repeated theme."

I felt calm, peaceful, quiet wash over me. I was so tired. Tired of fighting.

"I can give you power over death itself. I can make your tormentor a loyal pet. I can give you what you need to finally protect something else…someone else…" he leveled a gaze at me meaningfully, "If you will only let go."

Somet'ing caught my eye, bleary as I was, and I noticed de lights shone a little brighter. I could jus' barely make out shapes, see behind each a memory. I studied them. Stories, pictures, moments. All mine.

"Back and forth you have gone. Here, where it's safe and unbearable, then back out to connection, searching for a home, then tragedy and death, then back here. Your path is well worn."

I felt heavy, leaden. Trying to grab hold o' my t'oughts took energy, energy I didn' have. A word flickered across my consciousness. Stubborn. I pondered it, let it roll through my mind. It was both inspiring and amusing. Mine.

Oh yes, I am stubborn.

"You done telling me t'ings I already know? T'ought you had planned to teach me somet'ing new."

A wave of annoyance. It gave me satisfaction. I continued, "You wan' me to look at my story, but only de bad. You t'ink I don' know I'm selfish?" I gave a hard chuckle, "Dat was never a secret. You know why I keep coming back here, but you failed to mention why I keep going back out."

The undulating lights grew brighter, and I felt de frustration o' my companion grow. As dey drifted by, dey were no longer so obscure.

Thick golden light poured through de bayou, causing de waters to steam and sparkle. The singular, sweet, earthy scent was stirred wit' de heat o' de morning. Cicadas and morning birds rang out voices in a symphony unique to dis place. It was beauty itself – messy, wild, and rich.

Henri, with Sebastien on his shoulder, warm brown eyes, easy smile. Laid back, sturdy, solid as a rock against my constant fire.

Tante Mattie in her kitchen, always somet'ing ready befo' you walked in, like she knew you were coming.

The tantalizing t'rill o' de win, high stakes, low chances, disbelief and victory, like someone or somet'ing had yo' back beyond what you could see.

Logan, one eyebrow raised as he watched de ball spin neatly into de pocket. Impressed, but plannin' his next move. His blue eyes darting up wi' his particular brand of feral camaraderie.

An absolutely perfect cup o' coffee, warming and soothing stinging eyes, raw throat, burdened mind.

De Professor, eyebrows knit in unmerited concern, undivided attention. A recognition of shared dignity in every gesture dat always left you standing a little taller.

Leslie on the television screen, "And if these …X-men…are watching right now, I just want to say…well god, thank you!"

De satisfaction of solving a puzzle, solving a mess, accomplishing a feat you hadn't been able to befo'.

Beast's easy, genuine smile as he puttered around his lab, completely at ease, eager to share.

Jubilee squaring her shoulders off, committed to some course o' action, determined to be at de adults table.

"De world is mo' dan it's worst moments. Maybe good doesn' come with de same intensity as bad…but dere is certainly mo' of it. I got my share o' pain, homme, but Gambit has never lost all hope," I found myself surprised and relieved to realize I was being completely honest.

"How fortunate," de words failed to match de irritation I felt from him, "If you had been entire debased I would have no use for you. Yes, let's turn now to your hope."

Fear. I was afraid, full o' dread. I lived in de moment, I didn' focus too hard on de road ahead. I had not a single guess as to his next move but I had a distinct feeling I wasn' gon' like it much.

He sighed, "You young ones, so sentimental, so charming in your simplicity.

De lights started to bulge, swell, brighten, pressing in and making de space smaller. Behind dem, I saw images…visions…illusions…

Rogue ran out de door, wearing her very best smile. No conflict. No doubts. She was so happy to see me. She leaned down to give me a quick, familiar kiss and den jumped on de back o' de bike.

I sat at a card table, de carefree smile on my face foreign. I was accompanied by Belle, Scott…and Sarah, no longer a child but de young woman she had grown into, all studying de cards. Dere was no tension. No frowns. No dark shadows. Scott called de hand. I didn' mind losin' at dis table. I was jus' happy we were all here. I was forgiven.

I heard Sebastien cry and went to his room to check. But it wasn' Sebastien. It was some uddah lil' scamp. A lil' scamp wit' big green eyes and dimples in bot' cheeks. A gaze dat was completely trusting, familiar.

I checked myself in de mirror one last time. I looked respectable in a button down wit' slacks. I was nervous fo' my first day. A real job. A safe job. An honest job. I couldn' wait.

De X-men uniform, de one made jus' fo' me, in a lit case, a placard on de outside. It was displayed with reverence. It was in a long line of uddah uniforms, most of dem I recognized. People were milling about, reading, talking about de great accomplishments o' de X-men, how much dey had changed de world. My suit was dere. My story-

Dat last one cut off suddenly, as though I wasn' quite meant to see it. Watching dese scenes wit' my waking eyes…it almos' hurt worse dan de memories. I wanted dem. Desperately. Bout broke my heart.

"I was not unlike you, in the beginning. Not much care for the whole world, only my world."

Wit' de swelling o' de lights I could see mo' clearly. Somet'ing danced across En Sabah Nur's face, somet'ing like sadness, but it was fleeting.

"But you will find, as I did, as billions before you have…there is no heaven to be found here on earth. Not as it is. None of us are powerful enough on our own. And as long as we each pursue only our own personal peace, none will have any."

He came around to face me directly, "Some of us must sacrifice the gift of being small and selfish. Some of us must aspire to greatness, to purchase the whole world at the cost of ourselves."

Figuring I wouldn' be able to best him at philosophy, especially in dis context, I tried to look between de words, latch onto somet'ing dat might divert him. I took a risk, though admittedly my options were extremely limited, "You lost somebody?"

He studied me, deep, ancient eyes pondering. "Of course. I have lived more than five thousand years. I have lost everybody." There was no inflection, no change o' expression.

"How do you go on…when yo' carrying somet'ing like dat?"

He smiled at me, and fo' de very first time, somet'ing near to human crossed his face. "You don't."

His gaze left me and he paced, eyes peering through scenes I could not see, "When you lose your friends, allies, your family…your mate…your children…you simply do not go on. You must be remade into something more. I have been remade, time and again. As I intend to remake you."

"What if I wish to remain as I am?"

"It's too late for that. It has already begun. One by one, my cells are overwriting yours. I have removed you from your body as a mercy. You are in terrible pain."

"If dere's no choice, no chance, why are we even talking?!"

My anger made no impact. "You and I are becoming one. You needn't fear this change. I want to show you what we will accomplish together. You have shared yourself with me, now let me repay you."

Children laughed and hollered as dey played a ball game in de street wit' a cracked surface. Not a car in sight and looked like dere had been none fo' some time. Dandelions and uddah small weeds poked up through the surface o' de asphalt, slowly reclaiming it. De children were carefree…and odd. Each one wit' an element o' strangeness, each different and yet alike. One fell and cried out as dey scraped deir knees, but anuddah rushed over, placing his hands over de wound, which quickly healed undah his touch. No parents watching: dey looked out fo' each uddah. De air was crystal clear, and oddly quiet fo' a city. Peaceful. I slowly realized dere was some'ting familiar about dis place, and it wasn' until I looked up at de skyline dat I realized…dis was New York. As I looked up I could see zips and burst o' color, and in following a few I realized dat vehicles had been replaced by some kinda technology I couldn' identify. A voice called my attention back to de foreground.

"Dinner! Come on in!" Marrow's face was almos' unrecognizable, relaxed. Her long pink hair was swept back into a low ponytail that curled gently over her collar.

"Awwwww, come on Aunt Sarah, five more minutes?"

"You've already had five more minutes. Besides, it's pizza night."

A chorus o' "PIZZA!" rang out as de kids ran from de streets. Morlock kids. Unafraid. Unguarded.

A new scene, a courtroom o' sorts, but instead o' a single judge, a panel of obvious mutants sat facing de audience. Using deir combined abilities, dere was no way to obscure de truth. All seeing eyes could conjure crime scenes exactly as dey had unfolded, but much mo'. Dey could look back through all de choices, all de reasons dat had led to any event. Dey would mete out judgment, punishment, leniency, assistance, wit' mo' nuance, confidence, and expedience dan any court in de world today. In de center, I saw Xavier, his face bot' stern and gentle, de very image o' justice. He stood, tall and strong and robust, as vital in body as he always was in mind. Jean-Luc stood befo' dem, shoulders slumped, awaiting a verdict. My breath caught, but as I studied de Professor, I saw compassion lighten his features. I felt certain…absolutely certain Jean-Luc was gon' be ok.

Dis observation sent us speeding somewhere else. I knew only because my t'oughts were tangled wit' En Sabah Nur's dat dis was a hospital. It looked not'ing like a hospital. Looked like a resort. No equipment, no sterile linoleum, no fluorescent lights. Soft chairs and sofas and beds. Floating lights casting a gentle, warm glow. Books. Doctors here had no need o' de traditional institution I had always known. Doctors…dey weren't called doctors here. Dey were healers. And dey were able to do what medicine could not: actually heal. Bodies, minds, hearts. Deir work meant dere was so much less fo' de courts to consider. A group o' dem came through in white suits, led by none uddah dan Hank. His eyes were lit up, fascinated, satisfied, fulfilled.

Someone waited fo' him, and when Hank's eyes landed on her his face broke into a beaming smile.

"Rogue, my dear!"

She practically ran to him, arms wide, with a misty, joyful grin. Dere was no flinch, no hesitation, no rigidity as she pulled him into her bare-armed embrace, fingers twisting in his blue fur.

Hank burst into an adorable blush as she planted a hearty kiss on each o' his cheeks.

"Sorry sugah, but ah'm a touchy feely kinda gal from here on out."

"I can certainly become accustomed to that. Shall I take your exuberance to assume that my prognosis was correct? All is well?"

She hugged herself and spun around, "Better than that, doc. Better than ah'd ever hoped!"

"Sleeping?"

"Like a baby."

"Intrusive thoughts?"

"Zero. Ah'm totally under control. Ah'm….ah'm mahself. Fully mahself."

Hank reached out to squeeze her hand, "I hope you will hear beyond the limits of words when I say that my joy is well beyond professional."

Her answering smile was electric, but den faded as her eyes wandered off.

"Rogue?"

"Ah'm sorry. Ah don't mean to sound in any way ungrateful…ah just…ah wish…"

Hank nodded solemnly, "You wish he could be here. We all do." She met his eyes, her smile still there but saddened. He continued, "But if he were, I know he would share in your joy. I think Gambit would be glad, perhaps even gloating," they shared a chuckle, at my imaginary expense, "to know he had a hand in it." He looked at her more seriously, "I am certain he would want you to enjoy it. You have a new life Rogue, thanks to him."

A tear spilled over and down her cheek as de scene faded.

"Where am I, in all dis?" I wondered, aghast.

As though in answer to my question, I saw a gleaming citadel, like a light on a hill. An ivory stone tower was occasionally disrupted by a blue pulsing light as it rose impossibly high. It's presence was watchful; a guardian, all seeing, permanent.

At it's peak was a throne room, open on all sides to a breathtaking view o' de new world. In de center o' de room, a great throne sat on a dais, holding my captor, who studied me as I entered.

Four mo' empty thrones graced de edge o' de room, making de great throne de center o' a cross.

As I came to stand befo' him, I realized wit' some surprise dat I had a physical form again. My senses and t'oughts were too overwhelmed fo' it to make much of an impression, and I didn' know what use I could make o' it. Dis place felt real. Mo' real dan any place we had visited. It seemed tangible, inevitable.

"You fear death. With good reason. Death is powerful. But in this broken world, even death itself has been corrupted, twisted…haven't you felt it?"

He didn' need to bring de images back. Dey were still fresh in my mind. Yes. Death always came uninvited…unnatural. It was wrong. It took de wrong lives.

"Death's true purpose was to serve life, not destroy it. Death is meant to consume only that which is corrupt, putrid, vile. It is meant to purify, so that life can thrive fully. It's focus is never on the object of it's violence, only on the goodness of what it protects."

My head was spinning. My heart was spinning. He was right. Everything was right.

He rose and came over to me, placing his large hands on my shoulders. Dey felt warm, like a father's hands. Dey made me t'ink o Jean-Luc.

"You've thought it yourself. Death has haunted your steps. Dogged you. Terrified you. Devastated you. And run though you may, you can never stay ahead. Stop running. Turn, turn and face it. Consider it. Death is not your enemy. It is begging you to redeem it. It sees in you something more. Like I do."

As he gently coaxed me, I noticed de floor was a single mirror pane, unbroken, like de surface o' water.

My reflection stopped my heart. I was me, but not me at all.

I was a demon. Red eyes glowing out o' an inky black face, so dark it was hard to make out de features. My hands instinctively moved up to touch it, but I noticed they too were blackened as though charred. My hair was long, longer, and so blazingly bluish white it seemed to have an uddahwordly glow. My appearance would have been utterly ghoulish were it not obstructed by a silver and black suit of armor, reverently placed, and yet making me de mo' terrifying, not less. I was not human…and yet, I couldn' help but t'ink, perhaps undah his influence, dat I was perhaps…mo' dan human.

"Yes. Exactly. It is a chiasm. In giving up yourself, you become more. In this world, you have finally made the right choice. The way of peace. You hold death in check, ensuring that it never again escapes its bounds, never again mars life indiscriminately. You become death."

He circled me, approvingly. As I tested out this strange new form, I felt…different. Strong. Serene. Unassailable. Permanent.

"In giving up your small hopes, you make everyone else's possible. Is it not, after all, a small price to pay? Giving up hopes that cannot come to pass, for a reality far beyond their measure?"

He crooked a finger undah my chin, lifting my eyes from my reflection to a throne at his right hand. The stone chair was carved obsidian, inscribed over and over, in a thousand languages. Each read, "Death."

En Sabah Nur set me wit' a level gaze as he challenged me, "You wish, above all, to be worthy. That is one wish I can satisfy. Go," he gestured to the dark throne, "Take your place."

I looked at de throne, not as it was, but as a symbol.

I could be good. I could be a protector. I could finally stop running and stand my ground. I could make peace wit' all de pain, peace wit' the past, present and future. It seemed fair, after all my sins, dat I should provide a perfect world fo' everyone I ever hurt, ever loved, ever hated, but not be able to join it myself.

I took a step towards it. De throne answered every question, gave order to a story dat had seemed pure chaos befo'.

I took annudah step. Such a choice would exonerate me completely, free me from my unanswerable guilt.

I closed in and laid a hand on de back o' de throne, hesitantly caressing it. I felt…t'ankful. Finally, a way fo' me to bring goodness to de lives I touched, instead o' destruction. It was an unusual path to redemption, but dat made perfect sense fo' me, didn' it?

I felt En Sabah Nur's pride swell. It was good to have someone proud o' me.

Proud o' me.

Proud o' me.

Somet'ing jarred loose.

She was proud o' me! She was proud o' me when I joined de X-men. Dat suit in de case, he didn' wan' me to see it, because it was proof dat as selfish as I may be, I was already on my own path back to de angels. I was already learning to be a bigger person. I was already imaging a better world. Maybe not perfect, but better.

In every good lie, dere is some element o' truth. He had used all my hardest truths to weave togeddah somet'ing dat couldn' be.

I was returning to myself, inch by inch, manic and frail but my own self.

Dis was not de first meglomaniac to create a utopian vision. But it's always a lie. And it's always dem at de top.

De inefficiency, de conflict, de imperfection o' de world are not a flaw, dey are a feature. It's dese t'ings, choices, ideas, consequences, free will, dat make dis place what it is. Dat give us safety. Dat make us human. No one was meant to have power over life and death. It was hubris to t'ink any o' us could handle it.

I snorted, den chuckled. Den, wit' an edge o' hysteria an no real plan, I took my hand off de throne and turned back to him, cackling like a madman.

"You t'ought you had me, hahn? But don' nobody get a bluff past Gambit."

He scowled as he approached me in rage, grabbing me by de throat and choking off my laughter.

"You simply need more time," his voice was low and threatening now, no trace o' compassion, "why don't you take a moment to yourself?"

Dere was a sound o' shattering glass, and I found myself back in my body, back in de lab or whatever room I had been in…how long ago? I had no way o' knowing. I had only a split second o' consciousness, enough to see Essex was still here, befo' I felt it.

De pain was…somet'ing else. It was too much. I couldn' help but scream and lose myself in it. I couldn' make words or t'oughts. I could sense not'ing else fo' some time.

I don' know how, or when, or to what degree it went away.

I became aware o' someone meddling. Studying me. Touching me.

I swung wide, and whoever or whatever it was went sailing wit' a surprised yelp. Carefully, I pulled myself to my feet.

I felt different. De pain, de visions, de phantoms o' de past were all memories I could scarcely access. Unimportant. I was strong. Resolute. Serene.

I heard a voice and looked over to meet de eyes o' Essex, pulling himself up. When our gaze met, his face failed to hide de shock. I knew him. I knew I hated him. But it didn' seem relevant, not now. It was dull and dim.

I looked away, dismissing him and whatever questions he had. I felt a strange compulsion, like I had somet'ing to do, somewhere to be.

I walked freely from de room. No one and not'ing attempted to intervene. I was unsurprised, and unhurried. I walked through the winding hallways, certain o' my direction.

At last I found my destination. En Sabah Nur turned from where he wandered along de stone columns in a great, cavernous room. He raised his eyebrows as he appraised me, smiling approvingly.

"Tell me, my son. Whom do you serve?"

My answer was obvious, immediate, "En Sabah Nur."

His smile widened fondly. "And what is your purpose?"

"To build de new world order as a harbinger. A horseman."

En Sabah Nur cam to stand directly in front o' me.

"And who are you?"

I knelt, wit' one hand to my heart. I knew de answer he wanted, but I was unable to conceal anyt'ing from him. I was him. He was me. We were one. Dere could be no deception.

"I am Death…and Gambit."

His smile faded and he raised one eyebrow, questioningly, "And Gambit?"

"I am bot'."

He studied me, considering. "How…interesting…" his voice was an echo, somet'ing I'd heard befo'.

He circled me, surveying me. It didn' bother me. I gave him whatever time he wanted. I was his. He could do wit' me what he liked.

"We shall simply have to test you. In time. She is still collecting, naively. We will wait for her to tip her hand. Then we will see what we have in you."

I nodded obediently. "As you wish, En Sabah Nur."

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