KuramaIs4Me – Thank you so much for the kind review! I am very out of the writing habit so the encouragement was much appreciated! I hope this chapter keeps you enthralled and gives you a little break from reality.

Soundtrack recommendation: "Hurt" by Nine-Inch-Nails feat. David Bowie – the remastered version. You can find it on youtube. It hits different than the album version and the juxtaposition of Reznor's rough-edged voice with Bowie's wavering silk harmonies is…*chef's kiss*…perhaps a parallel between the two versions of Remy we've had to deal with these past chapters.

Part 41: Threading the Needle

…I'm not sho' what to write.

I didn' open my eyes at firs'. Jus' laid dere.

But de ground underneat' me gave a great heave. Pitched upward like a great gasp and shook me. De sound was terrible. Somet'ing between a cannon and a tear in de sound barrier.

I knew what it was, where it was…who it was.

And when my merciless mind t'ought fo' one second about what must have jus' happened…to dose hands…dat skin…dose eyes…

I rolled over to my hands and knees and retched.

Eyes open at last, I saw my hands beneat' me…but not my hands. Midnight black hands.

De ground heaved again. Aftershock. She wouldn' have felt it. I saw it ripple across de floor, rattling broken glass, leaving everyt'ing it touched warped. De whole room seemed to tilt out o' shape. A few unfamiliar forms lay nearby, rising and falling wit' de spasm o' de ground beneat' us. Breathing. De mutants I had corrupted, still unconscious.

I wasn' sho' how or why, but I pulled myself to my feet. When I did, I saw a familiar face. Piotr stood some ten feet away, brow furrowed uncertainly, stance defensive. Full metal armor. He studied me, and I don' know what he saw.

He addressed me haltingly wit' his thick Russian accent, "Comrade…are you…good?"

Piotr may have been asking if I was ok. He might also have been asking if I was my right self, given my appearance. But his words were too close. Dey seemed to echo, "You gotta decide foah yoahself to be a good man."

His face showed bot' concern and uncertainty, but he stayed in his defensive stance, ready if he needed to be.

"Oui," I answered simply. I was out o' words.

Piotr straightened only slightly. Slowly, I raised my hands in a show o' surrender.

"Did she…?" he trailed off, unsure how to finish his question.

I felt like I was watching de scene from down a long tunnel. Voice hollow, I answered again, "Oui."

Piotr's shoulders slumped and he let his arms drop. He bent his head and closed his eyes, de weak posture strange on his large metal frame. When he looked back up at me, his face was sad…full o' compassion.

"We must regroup…I can carry you."

"I'll walk," I answered. Numbly I removed de cursed armor, leaving a black tunic and britches underneat'. As I held de breastplate out from myself, I saw my reflection…En Sabah Nur had turned me into a demon after all. It was some small solace, dat she wouldn' have to see me like dis again. After I sat staring, t'inking to myself fo' what mus' have been too long, Piotr reached out and took de armor from me. Setting his mouth in a grim line, he crumpled it like tissue paper and dropped it. It made an odd, hollow, clanging sound. Too loud. Irreverent.

Poor Piotr didn' know what else to say, so we stood silently. It occurred to me dat he was in his metal form despite not having a collar. I wondered if dat meant we were successful.

Befo' we could do much else, Ororo came round de corner to meet us and jumped back as she caught sight o' me. Her eyes darted to Piotr and mus' have seen somet'ing dat gave her confidence. She schooled her features back into place, though her expression wasn' quite as believable as it usually was. Maybe it was my imagination.

Taking a deep, steadying, breath, she said simply, "We need to get everyone outside. Everyone we can. All have their powers, but the facility is in danger of collapse." Tentatively, she reached out and put a hand on my shoulder. I couldn' feel it. "Gambit…you can rest. You don't have to continue. We can take this last effort."

I stared at her. I meant to smile but it didn' work, "We tried…very hard…to save dese people. We were made fo' dis. She done her part. Gambit will see it finished."

Ororo squeezed my shoulder and clenched her jaw, nodding. "Very well. So it shall be," she lifted her head and straightened her back like de goddess she is and returned to de mission. Seemed it was never going to end.

Storm used de hole in the ceiling made by Rogue to take flight once mo'. Unlike befo, she encountered no opposition as she took de lay o' de land and found de arena. She was glad to report de Bruddahhood had indeed managed to get many mutants dere already, but de landscape was drastically altered: deep chasms pocketed de terrain, power was out, snow fell and de temperature was dropping.

Piotr gathered two unconscious, formerly corrupted forms at a time, and den Storm flew him to de arena to deliver dem. I worked to get de next two in position fo' easy pick up as I awaited deir return. Once we cleared de room, Storm returned.

"I will be best used by stabilizing the environment at the arena. None are properly equipped for the cold reclaiming this place. Lacking our communicators, I have managed to garner these from the patrollers," she gave us an old-fashioned SCR-300 transceiver and de channel fo' de team, "There are not quite enough, but we will be working in groups so it will suffice. Bring any you find back here and we will retrieve them to the arena."

"What about the team? Will it be just we two?" Piotr asked.

"Jubilee and Cyclops are also searching. The rest…must remain in the infirmary at this time. It seems to be stable."

Piotr paused as we bot' felt de heavy implication. It seemed Storm was now de field leader. Neither o' us had any medical or healing abilities, and dere was no time fo' our questions. We had our orders. I was not ready fo' answers anyway.

De earth pitched beneat' us again. Anuddah aftershock, shaking us as we fought to keep our balance; de spasms o' a body not quite ready to accept it's demise. Once it steadied, Piotr gave our assent and we moved out. We walked shoulder to shoulder silently, focused only on de task at hand.

We found a few in de living quarters. A couple had gotten pinned in a hallway under a collapsed ceiling. We heard reports from Cyclops as he and Jubilee were able to reach de slave holding area based on Beast's directions. Cyclops was blindfolded, but he carried while Jubilee searched and they were making on well enough. We heard deir elation as dey located Quicksilver, unharmed. Dis sped t'ings up tremendously, once he was on board.

We heard from Storm dat she was holding de heat while Magneto stabilized de ground to keep it from collapse. A military helicopter had landed to much excitement from dose gathered. Storm was surprised at the speed of deir arrival. Rescue at last. She began coordinating wit' de authorities to get de former hostages to McMurdo station, de largest on de continent wit' 85 buildings. Resources were on hand dere fo' medical triage, identification and survival supplies. Dere was a general feeling o' relief and celebration as de helicopter lifted off wit' de first group. We had done it.

I felt none o' it.

Once we had surveyed as best we could fo' signs of survivors and met de outer limits o' where we could safely explore, we reconvened in de common area wit' de broken ceiling. Cyclops and Jubilee had preceded us. Storm came to collect us and brought us to de arena.

At least it had been some kind o' arena, but now large portions were collapsed and de ground was riddled wit' cracks. Here, a majority o' de population was shepherded by de Bruddahhood. All had deir powers. None defenseless. Dere was no sign nor sighting of En Sabah Nur. It seemed our gamble had paid off in dat respect. His expiration had released us all from de conditions imposed on us. People were hugging, crying, celebrating. I vaguely wondered why I still looked like hell itself. Everyone gave me a wide berth, save one.

Mystique marched toward me as though she was planning to go straight through.

"Where IS she?!" she demanded, her tone boiling.

Storm and Piotr put demselves physically between us, but dey couldn' block her furious yellow eyes.

I couldn' seem to access any kind o' response. Fear, anger, gratitude, guilt…not'ing.

"We got to evacuate de uddahs. Den…den I need help, going to get her…will you help me?"

I don' know what she saw in my face or heard in my voice, but her jaw dropped in horror. Magneto stepped up beside her and put an arm around her shoulders in an uncharacteristic show o' support. Mystique gave no response.

Magneto retained his lion's bearing, "Of course. We came here together with the X-men. We will persist until the end." Mystique kept her eyes on me as she dropped to her knees on de ground. I watched her, unable to respond.

Storm addressed de gathered crowd, "Everyone keep calm. The immediate danger has passed. En Sabah Nur has been defeated and can no longer harm you. Rescue is underway, however the facility is compromised. We have sought out all we can. If you have some ability to reach the areas that elude us and are willing, please help us account for all those still inside."

De ground pitched again, causing some to fall and a few to scream. Once it passed, some volunteered. De search went on.

Storm used her transceiver to check in on de infirmary. "Beast, Psylocke, rescue is underway. Status?"

It took a moment fo' anyone to respond, but finally Hank's voice came on, "Psylocke and I have been encouraged to join you, however I am uncertain of the wisdom of our departure. Jean remains…" He didn't finish his sentence.

"Is Psylocke's condition stable?"

"Affirmative."

"Then stay. We will give Jean as much time as we can. It will be hours to complete evacuation."

"Acknowledged."

I wanted to know what was happening. Nobody said anyt'ing about Wolverine. But wit' all de immediate tasks satisfied, my heart began demanding a new objective.

I approached Storm, "I need to get her."

Storm's face twisted. She made her voice as gentle as she could, "Gambit…there may not…be anything left."

Cyclops stepped up beside me, "We have to try. We can't leave her here. We have to get her home."

"How…how do you suggest…?"

"I can use my blasts to get us to adjacent bedrock…but then I'm not sure. We can't use my power or Gambit's too close…who else could help?"

Magneto answered, connecting de dots o' our conversation, "There are strong magnetic fields here. I am enhanced by them. I am certain I can keep the ground stable here and lend aid. For Mystique's sake, at the least. Where is she?"

Storm and Cyclops struggled to answer, so I did plainly, "Underground. Long way. Near de tower."

Cyclops put a hand on my shoulder. He had never done dat befo'. "Gambit…we can do this for you. You don't have to. We can bring her back."

"Where's Logan?" I asked him directly. He drew back, caught off guard. Storm looked away.

But Jubilee came closer, and I saw her face was red and splotchy.

"He's in the infirmary. He's not responsive. Beast gave him adrenaline, used a defibrillator. Jean is trying…the Phoenix is forcing his vitals…make his heart beat. Make his lungs breathe."

I listened. So it wasn't de first option she'd t'ought. Sounded like de second.

Jubilee took bot' of my onyx hands in hers. "I'll come with you. Help if I can. Maybe they're both down there."

Mystique couldn' bring herself to come. She didn' wan' to see. She had no hope.

Magneto used his levitation to take us.

De site o' impact was now a massive depression wit' jagged edges, a gapin' blackness. But I knew dere was a bottom, and it was below dat, far away, dat I had last seen her.

"What am I seeking?" Magneto asked.

Cyclops answered him, "There may be a gap, a pocket. Roughly 200 meters below the surface. I wasn't able to get the exact distance. I'm not sure it will be left."

Magneto nodded and concentrated, "Not a gap, exactly…but…a disturbance of some kind. I will attempt to bring it to the surface."

The ground rumbled and cracked and groaned as Magneto reordered it, cleared de debris and elevated what was hidden far below.

Jubilee closed her eyes tightly, unsure of what she'd see.

At last, a segment of stone surfaced, scarred wit' burn marks from Cyclops' earlier blasts.

"Here. Stop here."

Everything was in disjointed pieces. Not'ing familiar. I couldn' piece togeddah anyt'ing o' de scene I had left behind. Magneto did as I asked, and de ground settled, reordered and unsteady. Rubble.

Magneto released us to de surface.

Jubilee opened her eyes, but dere was not'ing really to see. No scraps o' clothing. No body. No blood.

I bent to pick up a stone, turned it over, searching. Jerkily, Jubilee stooped to mimic me, though she wasn' sho' exactly what to look fo'. I wasn' either.

Cyclops was still blindfolded, so he directed Jubilee, "It was metamorphic rock. Very dark with light banding. Look for anything like that. Tell me what you see."

I appreciated his perceptiveness. We searched. Seemed like a long time. It was cold now and getting colder.

Cyclops' voice was frustrated, "There has to be something. Blast damage doesn't vaporize."

"It wasn' jus' blast damage."

Nobody spoke fo' a while.

Finally, I sank to my knees and closed my eyes, laying my hands flat against de ground. Still. Silent.

I pictured her here wit' me, as she had been. Eyes on mine. Hands on mine. Heart wit' mine. One.

I listened. Waited.

"Anna."

…

"Chere, where are you?"

I dug my fingers into de dirt and rocks. "You promised."

…

"ANNA."

Dere was no response.

I opened my eyes. Cyclops had his back to me, head hung. Jubilee was no longer searching. She was watching me, sobbing. I couldn' hear it.

I clenched my jaw and closed my eyes again. I sent a charge through my fingers out into de rocks, den pulled it back. Out again and back. I timed it wit' my own pulse. I was numb and insane and desperate. I'm not sho' why I t'ought to do it.

As I did, I sensed somet'ing. Somet'ing so small I couldn' describe it to you. It was a strange feeling, since I took Jean-Luc's elixir. My power felt different, harder to control. Mo' intense…detailed. I had never felt somet'ing like dis befo'. Like dust and whispers.

My power….I can' charge anyt'ing organic.

And somet'ing, somet'ing here was. Resisting me. Eluding me.

My eyes shot open, "Water!" Everyone jumped at my sudden shout, "Get me water! Here! NOW!"

I kept de pulse going, no idea o' whether it made any difference. Everyone froze.

"WATER!" I repeated.

"Cyclops?" Magneto addressed him fo' confirmation.

Cyclops' voice was uncertain, he wasn' sho' whether I was onto somet'ing or had gone mad. It seemed an unbearably long moment befo' he answered, "Do as he says."

Hesitantly, Magneto was able to seek out a source, dumping it in a steady stream into the pit.

De water seeped into my boots, covered my hands, rose over my legs to my waist, icy, grey and brackish as it mixed with de loose dirt and debris. I kept sending de energy out and back, out and back.

"Gambit, what…?" Cyclops was unsure what to ask.

Suddenly, Hank's voice came on de transceiver, "We have a pulse!"

Jubilee's hand flew to the radio, "REPEAT!"

"Logan! We have a pulse!"

Everyone looked at me, bewildered.

Cyclops was breathless, not sho' how everyt'ing was connected or even if it was but sensing some ghost o' an opportunity.

"DO NOT STOP!" He ordered me as he snatched the radio from Jubilee. "UPDATE."

Hank continued, "I'm not sure how, but Jean sensed a natural heart beat…He's breathing now! She's waiting to see if it's safe for her to withdraw. I need to intubate, stand by!"

We waited breathlessly. I kept de pulse moving through de water and grime. Tried to keep it steady. I'm not sho' why exactly, but I lifted my hands, turning dem upright, palms up under de water. Out and back. Out and back.

I felt movement. "Come back to me, Anna!"

De whispers and dust, de tiny particles o' whatever I sensed seemed to draw towards each uddah, collect and coalesce. I started to shake. I didn' know how it all fit togeddah. I didn' know what I would do if I was wrong…if I failed, "Allons, femme, allons!"

Whatever I felt, it grew infinitesimally stronger. I tried to be patient, give whatever it was whatever time it needed. I held fast to dat outside chance.

"The water!" Jubilee shouted in disbelief.

De water started to move wit' my current and change hue, it's pale brown slowly changed to rusty tones…den a deeper, darker crimson. A metallic smell reached my awareness.

De next feeling dat reached my consciousness was one o' very light pressure…weight in my hands. So light I t'ought I mus' be imagining it…but I hoped…

It grew.

I looked down and slowly, slowly, my hands seemed to disappear under de swirling water as somet'ing took shape, obscuring dem from view. I was spellbound.

Beast's voice came back over de radio, "The Phoenix has withdrawn. Logan is intubated. Vitals are extremely weak…but steady. I am overjoyed to report my medical opinion that our Wolverine has turned the corner. His regeneration should take him from here- OH MY STARS AND GARTERS-!"

Suddenly, we were nearly blinded by orange light, brilliant and vacillating. Magneto landed beside Cyclops, shielding his eyes.

As my eyes adjusted, I slowly, painfully pulled dem upward to see what had caused de disruption.

At first, all I saw was concentrated flames and light. It took time to notice de figure within.

"Give her to me, Gambit," de voice was Jean's, yet not Jean's. It was somet'ing mo'. Powerful. Pervasive. It came from her but from everywhere else too.

I looked back down, unable to clearly see exactly what I held under de surface. But it was her. It had to be her. How could I let her go?

Jean addressed me again, "I can continue what you have started. It will take time to complete. But you must trust me. Let me have her."

I felt painfully as de water moved dat whatever I held in my hands was broken and bloodied, even as it continued to take form. It was heavier, but still too light to be human. I couldn' see it clearly.

I looked back at Jean, "Please…please…" dere were a million ways to finish de request but none o' dem would come out in words.

"You have my word," she said sincerely.

I looked down into de water one last time, "Anna, I am begging you," my voice was rough and challenging.

As I started to lift her, de Phoenix swirled down in a burst o' energy, surrounding my possession briefly and den de weight was gone.

Jean turned her attention to Scott, "We will be home. Jean will be very weak, but unharmed."

She did not give him a chance to reply befo' she vanished.

As soon as she did I leapt to my feet and stormed toward Magneto like a bat outta hell.

"Get us back! We got to go home!"

He looked uncharacteristically shaken but was swift in levitating us back to de arena.

I will spare you de details o' departure and travel. Dey couldn' send me on my own, what wit' my appearance and witnesses o' my behavior under En Sabah Nur's influence. I had to wait agonizing hours as evacuations progressed, den even mo' as medical evacs took place fo' any injured. Dis included Logan. Even wit' Beast's optimism, de sight o' Logan, listless and breathing on machines shook me to what was left o' my core. I latched my battered hopes on de rhythmic sounds of de respirator rising and falling. I didn't understand anyt'ing, but I felt certain dat Logan and Rogue were gon' stay togeddah, one way or anuddah.

We made it to McMurdo station and people had de absolute gall to ask us questions. Some kinda special UN forces were installed, somet'ing called S.H.E.I.L.D.. Apparently dey got a tip a few days ago from a special operative. Now dey wanted an intelligence debrief.

To say we were salty at deir urgency now, after we'd spent weeks – months - begging fo' help, would be an understatement. Jubilee punched somebody in de face. Attempts to intervene were half-hearted at best. We were close to being detained. De Professor was able to negotiate on our behalf, got Storm to stay behind to give her witness account and got de rest o' de X-men back to de Blackbird and de Amery airstrip. De old base had spare protective eyewear fo' Scott, and at last he regained his sight.

It felt like a strange dream, after everyt'ing, boarding de Blackbird. Beast was in de back wit' Logan. De empty chairs loomed. I sat in her chair, by de window. I needed to be as close to her as I could. I was agonized between hope and fear.

Jubilee came and stood next to me until I finally noticed and looked at her.

"I sit with you now…right? Us four…we're a team…"

Yeah, petite, somet'ing like dat. I didn' answer but grabbed her wrist and pulled her into de empty seat next to me. Fo' once, neither o' us talked. To my surprise, she grabbed my hand and held on fiercely.

Everyone else was held in a wide orbit wit' me looking like Death. But Jubilee declared wit' no small amount o' defiance, "I'm here. I'll look out for you."

I wished to God chere had been able to hear it. She would have been so proud. As it was, all I could do was hold Jubilee's hand back.

We made it back a full two days befo' de rest o' de team. It didn' help.

A woman I had never seen befo' met us outside de hangar. Hank addressed her warmly, "Dr. MacTaggart, I cannot tell you how glad I am to see you here."

She nodded solemnly and answered with a Scottish brogue, "As glad as I am to be so, I canna say I'm glad for the circumstances. I expect ye have more patients for me?"

Hank nodded and moved back to bring Logan. Scott hesitated befo' asking, "How are…the others?"

Dr. MacTaggart's eyes darted to me and then back to Scott, "Am I correct in assuming this is…?"

"Remy LeBeau, meet Dr. Moira MacTaggart. Moira, this is Remy."

I saw somet'ing in her face, like dere was plenty she wanted to say but wouldn't. She had a kind face. "I'll be glad to make yere acquaintance once conditions improve. As it is, I'll no keep you in suspense. Both the lasses are alive. Jean and Rogue."

I rushed over and grabbed her by the shoulders, "Alive?! She's alive? Certainment?"

Dr. MacTaggart was startled, but to her credit, she didn' pull away. She placed her hands on my arms gently. "Aye, she is. But that's the extent of the good news, lad."

As she spoke her voice got mo' and mo' dull. I saw stars and den my legs gave out beneat' me. I heard some kind o' commotion but missed it's significance. Next I knew I'd been admitted to de medical bay.

I was in good company. Jean was dere, sleeping soundly. No mo' orange flames, jus' dark circles under her eyes. Dr. MacTaggart told us she was completely stable, but clinically exhausted and dehydrated. De good doctor had set her up wit' an IV and orders fo' bed rest. Psylocke got laid up as well and given somet'ing to manage pain and help her sleep. She'd had a migraine since she broke away from Rogue dat caused her to be violently ill, but it apparently wasn' serious.

Logan joined us from de plane, machines still whirring, condition unchanged. Hank was perplexed because while Logan remained stable, he made no progress. Almos' like his regeneration was not a factor. Once he and Dr. MacTaggart got full diagnostics, dey had mo' concerns. Dere was absolutely no brain activity…and previously undocumented signs o' aging.

As soon as I had enough lucidity to string words togeddah, I asked about de one missing.

I was not allowed to see her.

Dr. MacTaggart spoke gently, "I'm so sorry t'say so, lad. Her condition is quite critical. I cannae risk infection, so no visitors."

My laugh sounded manic, "Yo' telling me I got dis close and can' see her? Dis femme been driving me crazy since I met her but dis is a new personal best."

Dr. MacTaggart pulled up a chair next to de bed and sat down, looking at me seriously, "It may be for the best. Ye have yere own recovery to manage. Yere immune response is in high gear and ye've been through a traumatic experience. I cannae make heads nor tails of yere bloodwork."

I looked down at my still unfamiliar hands, studying dem, "Dis permanent den?"

"I dinna ken." She folded her own hands in her lap and sighed heavily, "There's been so little quality ethical research into the mutant population. We do what we can at the center back on Muir Island…but some of the answers ye all are seeking are beyond the power of medical knowledge to answer."

As I grappled painfully wit' de knowledge dat I wasn' allowed t find out fo' myself…I finally braved it. "How is she, Doctor?"

Dr. MacTaggart's wise eyes measured me carefully, her posture reluctant.

"Please. You got' to tell me somet'ing. I got to know."

She put a hand to her chin, considering, "Medically speaking, Mr. LeBeau…it's not good. She is actively defying what my medical knowledge tells me."

"Which is?" I pressed.

"Will ye make a deal wi' me?"

I looked at her incredulously, "You didn' strike me as de cutthroat type."

"I don't mean to be. Yere body is stressed. Yere vitals are elevated. I want to tell you what I can, but I mustna do harm. I want to give ye something now to keep ye calm, and a prescription for the next few weeks. Lastly, I want yere word that ye'll follow my advice on yere own recovery."

"Which is?" I hedged suspiciously.

Dr. MacTaggart smiled enigmatically, like there was an inside joke I jus' missed. She muttered to herself, "Such a pair." She shook her head, and then continued, "Three meals a day. Eight hours of sleep and an hour nap beyond that. Twenty minutes of sunlight. Thirty minutes of light movement – walking, stretching, that kind of thing. No alcohol. Yere body will absolutely be reacting to what ye've been through, no stopping that. Ye need to give it the very best gentle care ye can."

I tried hard not to roll my eyes, but I failed. She chuckled.

"If faith holds, I'll be giving her the very same advice eventually. Practice now and ye can be a great help to both of us."

I latched onto her words, "Den you t'ink she'll be ok?"

Dr. MacTaggart frowned and got up. She walked back to de medical station, fumbling through locked drawers. She came back wit' a pill in a cup.

"It's called alprazolam. It's a benzodiazephine for anxiety. Commonly called 'Xanax', but this is a generic version."

I gave de cup a sideways glance, "She's de one suffering, but I'm de one being medicated?"

"Ye're both suffering. It's not a competition. Ye've nothing to prove and it's certainly not helping her to continue. I commend ye both for yere tenacity; it's brought you this far. But it's no longer necessary and may indeed cause harm instead," she reached over and covered one o' my hands wit' hers, "This is not kindness. It's medicine. I am a doctor. Let me do my job, please."

She held out de cup. I'd already done worse trying to get to Anna. What's one mo' bitter pill?

I took it. Dr. MacTaggart nodded, satisfied, and measured me again wit' her eyes. Her voice was gentle and slow, "Let me preface by reminding you – medicine does not equip me with all the answers here. Let that knowledge color everything else I'm about to say."

She sat back down in the chair and leaned back, holding herself still and steady. "Medically speaking, her injuries are fatal."

We heard my heart react on de monitor, but she continued, "Right now, my interventions are informed by best practices for palliative care. I am doing what I can for pain management, keeping her comfortable, but she's too weak for anything more. If it were any other patient presenting with the scope of her injuries, I would advise against further treatment and seek guidance from her next of kin on when to cease support."

"But she made it dis far! She's strong!" my voice sounded angry, but it didn' deter de good doctor.

She took my hand again, "Mr. LeBeau, I am nay finished. Breathe. I ken what ye're feeling. I've been where ye are. Ye're right when ye point out she's made it this far. Aye, she is indeed braw. It's a miracle. I have no explanation for why she continues. She shouldn't be here but she keeps being here anyway. I've had some opportunity to study Logan's regeneration factor and though I've never seen anything like it…her condition is now well outside medical possibility."

"What does dis mean?"

"It means my expertise is not going to avail us of the answers. I dinnae ken whether she will recover. If she does recover, I dinnae ken when. I dinnae ken what long-term implications to expect, mental or physical. I dinnae ken when I'll be able to let you see her. But I will share what I ken when I ken it."

I wondered very briefly if people had as much trouble understanding my creole as I did her brogue. Dr. MacTaggart gave my hand an encouraging squeeze and moved to stand.

"Is dere not'ing dat can be done to help her?"

"On the contrary. The amount of help the lass has already received is extraordinary. I cannae tell ye how many times I read the notes the Professor sent, trying to understand how in the world this needle was threaded. The 'ifs' are overwhelming. Jean still has extremely limited control and access over the Phoenix, yet if she hadna come, Rogue never would have been able to protect her mind or survive the trip home. If Logan had been there himself instead of in her body, if there had nay been some shred of him someplace else, tethering him to the world o' the living, I nay think he would have made it. If ye had nay gone back for her, or nay thought to add energy, or nay thought to add water so that particles could move…every little piece of this puzzle had to be in place for her to get this far. Mr. LeBeau, the hand o' destiny is on this wee lassie, for sure and certain."

She went back to the desk and scribbled somet'ing on pen and paper befo' returning.

"I truly doubt she has any awareness at all…but I could be wrong. And if she doesn't now, maybe it will return by and by. This is the channel for her room. She won't respond, of course…ye'll hear quite a lot of machinery. Yet, I see no harm in ye talking to her, while ye wait. And who knows but it may help? Ye've been a good influence on her so far."

At dat last sentence, Dr. MacTaggart's eyes went wide fo' a moment, as though she said mo' dan she meant. I narrowed my eyes, but understood immediately dat I wanted to get de good doctor in my corner. I'd save dat battle fo' now.

I looked down at de note, considering. "Even when she can' hear me, she's de only one I wan' to talk to…I'm t'ankful fo' dis, at de least. Merci."

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