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Chapters
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
 
 
 

If Ever - REVIEW THIS STORY

Written by Painted Eyes
Last updated: 01/02/2007 02:01:11 AM

Chapter 9

Sinister waited precisely 24 minutes after their departure to deactivate his equipment, and though only five had gone, he was perfectly satisfied with his results. Wolverine would be a long time coming out of the red mists of his primal rage, he might even kill the pyro-girl if she kept buzzing around him as she was. He didn't understand why she hadn't left with the others, but if the child was too stupid to get herself out of the way until Logan calmed down, she'd end up gutted. No loss, she was a minor talent and Wolverine's murderous instincts had been effectively distracted from the true target. Sinister wanted Remy alive.

The tesseract opened in Westchester, deep in the darkness of the forest's edge; it rippled, then was blindingly gone. Beyond lay the mansion, windows unlit. The boy would either be thrown out or run out himself to escape his team-mates, Remy LeBeau was nothing if not a survivor - that durability was a large part of his value. With implacable and deeply satisfied calm Sinister waited to be given what had been stolen from him. One way or the other, the untapped power and ripening potential of his finest work would be in his hands once more, and forevermore.

The silence was deep and comfortable, they were loosely dressed and Jean lay on her back, profoundly relaxed, eyes and mouth languorous and faintly smiling, her hair a coppery nimbus around her head, his a dark cedar spill across her breast. He had given her pleasures she'd never even guessed existed, given her all a man could give a woman and she would treasure the memory all the rest of her life. She thought he might be dozing, his arm relaxed across her, fingers low on her hip as she stroked through the glossy fall in slow passionless affection. Neither had to say there were no regrets. Indeed, there wound between them the quiet peace of a bond well and truly forged. With a sort of awe she sensed his shields knitting up moment by moment without conscious thought on his part, and knew it was time to withdraw from his mind at last. He felt her slipping away with a clinging sense of loss, his fingers tightened, his body, against her. Relaxed again with a quiet sigh.

"T'ank you, Jean." So low and soft to carry such a wealth of gratitude. She slipped her fingertips down the slanted angle of his cheek, answering him with the fond touch. His eyes were closed, deep ruddy lashes thick and sweet, but she felt his smile.

"Remy ... " She whispered after a few minutes, "You have to know it would break our hearts to lose you forever."

A soft scoffing grunt, he wasn't that easy about this yet; "You mebbe, chere, but Remy din' see no hearts breakin' whilst sloggin' t'ru d'snow freezin' 'is ass off, fallin' off cliffs n' whatever."

"We didn't know where you were, Rogue only said you weren't coming back." That still disturbed him deeply.

"You are a valuable member of this team, Remy, the Professor ... "

"D'Professor values 'dis homme's T'ief talents, chere." Still soft but grimly truthful, "Don' 'ave no trouble loosin' Gambit int' d'undergrounds t'do 'is nefarious business f' de X-Men, done it pretty regular." A biting glance up, "Logan, too..." that became a mirthless crook of a grin to see she hadn't known that, and was shocked; "Oooo, s'prise, s'prise ..."

"Still, it can't only be that. You intrigue him as much as frustrate him."

"Wonderin' 'ow much more 'e c'n get from this homme, Jeannie, 'e's crazy f'it." A beat, a chill. "Not sure Remy wanna know what more 'dere is."

"I know." Quietly, but she did.

"I've watched you tease the Professor with little revelations, like a stripper, never letting him see the good stuff ..." He chuckled at the accuracy of her choice of analogies, "And you disobey him and go your own way and get in trouble more than any five ... but he has always insisted your heart is true to the team."

"Ha, Remy never been good at teamwork ..."

"Ha yourself, Mr. Way-cool-wise-ass, you're better than you know. Logan told me tonight that he'd noticed you're never more annoying than when someone needed to vent, you give us more than you think ..." It was important he understood this; "You must let them forgive you, Remy, and forgive themselves." Delicate sensitive hands stroked warmly across his bare shoulders noticing the instinctive catlike rise after the sensation with a fond smile.

"Will 'dey?" A carefully emotionless whisper.

"They will when they understand their anger was more yours than theirs." Which made no sense to him by his inquiring look and she knew she must go carefully - a man who feared what he might be would not be glad to know of a power acting without his will. Sinewy muscles tightened under thin silky skin in her silence, the sweet caress of his hand on her hip slowed and stilled, gripped the soft-skinned flesh unconsciously.

"Remy, everyone was confused when we got back, and that confusion has lingered - it's odd, we're all so busy defending the justness of our attitudes that we didn't wonder at why we have those attitudes in the first place, at least with such vehemence. Your sins are ... really, Remy ... not much more than things we've all been guilty of at one time or another. Warren with Apocalypse, Rogue with the Brotherhood and Mystique ... the Dark Phoenix."

He agreed with that, it was the core of a resentment he never consciously acknowledged.

"You projected yourself onto us, Remy, but I don't think you know you're doing it, just like you can't fully control your power to beguile." She hurried, because he started to come up off her, turn his head toward her and she caught his eyes and held them earnestly, "Listen to me now - we punished you just as you wanted us to, your feelings of guilt and self-recrimination got pushed at us, and sort of pushed us into acting on your idea of penitence."

He leaned closer, intently searching the clear twilight calm of her eyes for any merciful half-truth ... could it be so? Was he that twisted? She felt the faint guilty thought and smiled softly.

"You are more powerful psychically than you know. The Professor has always suspected as much - "

"Den I do all 'dis t' m'self?"

His hair tickled cool and satiny against her breast as he shook his head, closed his eyes and laid down again, shaken and unashamedly taking comfort against her. She found she liked the trusting feel of him in her arms, no longer sexual, but like a child who thought about embraces as things he needed from those he loved. Only Ororo had known that about him before.

"'Dis some logic Remy nev' chased b'fo." She stroked his head to calm the nervous jump of his heart as he considered it.

"Mebbe dey don' t'ink Remy's on a par wit' pond scum n' wouldn'ta lef' 'im t'freeze on 'dere own? Even Rogue, y't'ink?" Like it was too much to wish for and not reconciling it in his mind yet, but she stroked the nape of his neck under his hair affectionately, reassured by the track his thoughts - his heart - took. Less important what power had escaped him at such cost than that the people he cared for might truly care for him.

"I t'ink ..." She said, teasing out the faint flicker of hope she sensed in him with his own patois, and let him ponder it.

The Professor's irritatingly incessant harping that he let him ferret out the true nature and scope of his powers suddenly became far more profound. If this was true, and if he'd known about it, Antarctica might have been avoided for them all. Though he acknowledged a fleeting terror in wondering what else might be in him he didn't know about, it seemed less important than that Rogue might truly love him - if he could find her, explain that the fault was not hers - her soft heart so easily damaged and she'd be torturing herself with guilt over something she had less control over than the unwelcome memories shredding her mind. He sighed deeply; she'd be castigating herself for loving him as well as for leaving him, furious that his secrets had wrought so much destruction that could have been avoided if he'd trusted the X-Men. She'd have all the ammunition she needed to blame him squarely for everything.

"You have to let the Professor and I look into those darknesses in your mind, Remy, these areas you don't want to look into yourself. To know if they are natural, maybe developing ... or implanted. Either way, you gain a way to control them."

Jean didn't need to be a telepath to feel how cold the idea made him, what it made him realize that arced like electricity to her mind. What had set this manifestation off, and who would benefit. He was quiet for a few minutes and she let him be.

"Oh, man ... 'dis gonna take some long t'inkin ..."

He would not have the time.

 

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