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Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
 
 
 

A Friend in Need - REVIEW THIS STORY

Written by Paws
Last updated: 01/05/2008 11:51:22 AM

Chapter 5

He had called for help after he’d settled the unconscious Gambit down. The man was bleeding from several spots and was quite pale. When he got through he’d found the place was in an uproar – Remy’s disappearance having just been discovered. Scott and Henry had come to assist him - after Scott had sent Bobby and Sam after Logan with strict instructions to keep him away, even if Sam had to blast him a few miles into the woods so that his walk back gave them some time.

So they’d bundled Remy up and into the back of a van, Hank muttering away about the folly of patients not listening to their doctor.

Scott had shot him pointed looks the whole time but waited until they’d left Hank working industriously away on Remy in the infirmary. “Ok. So do you want to explain to me what the hell is going on and how you managed to catch him?” Scott glanced up from his scrubbing at a small bloodstain left on his shirt. They’d defeated alien races, cured plagues and done other extraordinary things. You’d think they would have found fabrics that wouldn’t take a stain by now.

Sighing, he looked at Scott tiredly. The increasing conflict and tension between him and the man that he’d always thought of as a son was both troubling on a personal level to him and also wasn’t what they needed now as a team. “I didn’t capture him. He’s not our enemy Scott.”

Scott’s lips tightened. “Then what the hell is he? We captured him when I sent the team after Sinister. He put up a fight then, and according to you he’s left Logan injured somewhere out on the grounds. That sure as hell sounds like an enemy to me.”

“I know what it all seems like. But he was doing all of that under orders.” Scott’s cheekbones flushed in sudden anger, but he was too controlled to react other than that. Reaching the planning room he opened the door, waving Scott in. “And yes, they were my orders. But I think we should call the rest of the senior team in before I explain things.”

“You went behind my back. Again. How many times do we have to do this? How am I supposed to lead the team when I don’t even know what we’re dealing with?”

“Scott, I...” He was cut off by a sharp chopping wave of Scott’s hand.

“Forget it. We’ll do this later.” He moved to the com system and made the calls, pointedly refusing to meet his eyes.

He settled himself in a chair, watching as Scott did the same, feeling the gulf between them widen that much more. It took a while for the whole group to trickling in, yawning and sleepy eyed, doubly so since many of them had just been awoken for the second time that night. Emma arrived first and sat across from him, beside Scott, engaging in silent conversation with Scott, her eyes sliding contemplatively towards him from time to time. Sam and Bobby - escorting a somewhat dishevelled looking but relatively healed and calm Logan - were the last to enter. Thankfully they seemed to have stopped to grab some new clothes for Logan first.

Logan flopped into a seat, settling his eyes on him. “So what’s up Chuck? I’m giving you five minutes and then I’m heading down to the med lab. I can smell his stink all over here.”

“That won’t be necessary, Logan. I assure you that Gambit is of no threat to this team.”

“He’s a mole.” Scott didn’t look at all abashed when he looked to him and raised a brow at the interruption. “Right? There’s no other explanation for this.”

He folded his hands in front of him on the table. “Yes. We needed someone on the inside. It also needed to be believable. Out of everyone, Gambit was the most likely to succeed at infiltrating Apocalypse’s base. Sinister came after - I gave him autonomy to follow things out as he saw fit, which he did.”

Several of the people seated looked surprised, however Emma and Scott didn’t betraying anything as they sat calmly, studying him.

Scott’s earlier flash of anger was well buried at the moment but he would have loved to know what the two of them were saying to each other. Logan was unruffled as usual, but his forehead creased slightly as he obviously went through the process of reordering of some of his previous assessments.

“These are troubling times as we all know. Losing nearly the entire population of mutants has put us in a position where we cannot afford not to take any advantage offered to us.”

Sam leaned forward. “So that’s why he blew the diaries to bits then instead of me? I mean, he toasted me good, but it could make sense ’cause I was nearly on top of them. That other guy – Scalphunter – he was plenty pissed that Gambit had done that. I don’t remember all of it but I caught a bit of them arguin’.”

“I believe so. Remy has always worked well on his own – making quick decisions as he saw fit. I regret the loss of those diaries, but it was preferable that they were destroyed rather than having Sinister get a hold of them. I needed someone in the field who wasn’t afraid to make those types of choices. We couldn’t risk having him in contact with us.”

“So you gave him full control?” Logan gave him a sardonic look. “That’s pretty balsy Chuck.”

“He tried to kill Rogue and he hurt Sam pretty bad – we didn’t even know if he’d come out of the coma. Heck, they still have Rogue and only God knows what they are doing with her. You’re telling me that was part of the plan?” Bobby blurted out, he and several others looking between him and Scott. The division between the two of them was becoming more and more obvious, with both him and Scott making decisions without the other. Once they worked as a team, with a clear leadership. Now...things were a lot less certain. He felt the weight of his decisions once again - ideas that seemed so clear at one point quickly muddied with time. He should realize after all these years that would be the case. Still, what was done was done.

Emma placed one white gloved hand on top of Scott’s as she readied herself to speak. She’d be one of the things that he’d not counted on with Jean’s death, and one he was finding to only be a further dividing force between himself and Scott. Laying his own hands on the familiar polished wood of the table, remembering all the times that he’d sat here, he realized that more had changed over the years than remained the same. It was a sobering thought.

This was going to be a long night.

Something fuzzy was tickling his nose. He sneezed and opened his eyes, blinking rapidly as his field of vision was nearly entirely taken up by a field of blue and white.

“Oh my pardon.” The rest of the room swam into focus as Henry backed away. “I didn’t realize you were conscious. I was just changing the IV bag.”

Remy rubbed industriously at his nose. “The ticklin’ woke me up.”

“Ah. Yes. I’m afraid that I’ve been a bit nonplussed lately and as a consequence...” He offered a tissue box. “Well...I’ve been shedding.”

He realized somewhat belatedly that his hand was free, smiling slightly as he reached for the tissue. “Merci.”

Hank’s ears twitched and he glanced away clearing his throat. “I am truly sorry for your treatment here earlier Remy. We had no way of knowing...”

Blowing his nose, he shook his head. “Don’t matter. As y’ said y’ didn’t know.”

“Well that may be true, yes...but I’m still not happy with how I...”

“Henri.” He interrupted. “It’s ok. Don’t get all worked up about it. Y’ patched me up twice in the last day – I think that counts for somethin’.”

He got a bit of a look at that. “Since you are bringing that up, what possessed you to remove your chest tube? I didn’t replace it because your chest injury has recovered sufficiently to make do without it, but your recovery may be harder than if you’d left it be for a while longer.”

“Y’ do what y’ gotta do.” He laid his head back, tired. “Xavier explained everythin’ I’m takin’ it?”

“ Yes, he did.” Hank fiddled with some equipment, taking his time before finally meeting his eye again. “I think it may take some time for people to adjust though. While everyone now realizes that you did this for the benefit of the team, there were a lot of ill feelings with your ‘defection’ that they will have to sort through.”

“What else is new?” He smiled slightly, but there was no joy in it, just a simple protective reflex. “How’s Kurt doing?”

Luckily Hank leapt on his distraction. “He’s alright. I expect him to make a full, if slow, recovery. He was remarkably lucky. As were you.”

Which reminded him. “Does ’Ro know?”

Henry blinked at him. “No. Actually we didn’t even consider that.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s 8 am. I can arrange for someone to contact her.”

He finally took in how tired Henry looked, and felt a slight pang of guilt. He’d obviously not stopped for much if anything. “It’ll keep. Y’ should get some rest first. Y’ look like somethin’ the cat drug in.” He managed a small chuckle, watching the way that Hank’s ears swivelled at him. “Or maybe that’s the wrong description.”

“Quite.” The deep rumbling voice was full of amusement. “I’ve got to check on a few more patients and then I will be having a rest. It’s no trouble to ask someone else to call her. I don’t wish to face her wrath if she is not informed in a prompt manner.”

“Mmm. She’s got her own life now, neh?” He picked idly at a bit of tape on his arm. “And what other patients?”

“She’ll still want to know. She saved your life Remy.” Hank looked even more tired than before. “Many of the younger students, I’m afraid. They attempted to break into a purifier stronghold without the senior staff’s knowledge.”

“Merde. That group is just plain crazy. Everyone make it?” Henry gave him a nod and he sighed. “I owe ‘Ro many times over, for a lot of things.” He laid back and closed his eyes. “I’m a bit tired, Henri. I’ll be just fine. Go have a coffee or do whatever things y’ need to.”

He could hear Hank pause at the sudden dismissal but after a slight bit of shuffling as he gathered his things, he left, quietly shutting the door behind him. He opened his eyes again to stare at the ceiling – with the weight of having to keep the ruse up gone he had time to think. And that was never a state that he enjoyed finding himself in. Too many ghosts. Too many regrets.

And he wasn’t even half done yet.

 

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