Disclaimer in first part.
Could've Been Worse: Part Three
by Diamonde
Gambit glared at the crutches. Back on those again, leg in a brace, poster child for racehorses everywhere. Still, at least that meant he could get up now. He did, with far more effort than he really felt should be necessary. As had become almost reflex now, he shielded his mind to the best of his ability. With a mockery of his old silent grace, Remy began to move.
He reached the door of the professor's study without seeing anyone. That made sense, because they were all on the other side of it. Without the ability to pull off any more covert eavesdropping, he simply listened at the door.
"Okay, maybe I don't know Gambit as well as you all say you do, but I don't think he'd be picking fights with a hologram of his brother-in-law if he didn't have serious issues." That was Kate, annoyingly intelligent as always.
"I agree, Kitty, but what can we do that we haven't done or tried to do already?"
"Jean, I know how you feel, but I believe I can also guess at how he feels. When Forge's nullifier took away my powers… I lost part of myself. I felt useless, like half a being that had no right existing. We worry about him needing us, but it is more important for him to feel that *we* need *him*."
"Do we?"
"Marrow, that was beneath you."
"I come from the sewers, wind-rider, there isn't much beneath me. What can he do here except sit around while you all pat yourselves on the back for being so supportive? He's not useful and he knows it."
There was a long silence. "Maybe the Massachusetts Academy…" Xavier said thoughtfully.
"That's open to humans now, remember? What would he teach? The one thing legal thing he was good at he can't do anymore. If he could we'd keep him."
"He is not a pet."
"The way you and I-won't-commit-but-I-like-having-the-pretty-face-around-to-look-at act it's hard to tell."
"Ah do not."
"Whatever."
"Running away from pain does not help." The Russian accent was unmistakable. "He should stay here, where his friends are."
"Maybe he should go home to where his family is," Jean said a little sarcastically. "He certainly doesn't seem to be liking it here with us."
It was Nightcrawler's turn to argue. "Send him back to a family that earn their money climbing in through other people's windows? It seems to me that the reason this injury is causing him problems is that he has been raised to consider those skills crucial."
"If he stays, we can't let him have access to the danger room."
"Why not?"
"He'll hurt himself again!"
"If that's what he wants to do then I don't see why you should have any right to stop him!"
"X-Men look after their own."
"What sort of X-Man does he see himself as now? He hasn't been an active member for seven months."
In Remy's ears all the arguing voices and words began to blur together. "My patient… therapy… not now… thief… fell off the roof on Wednesday… rude to everyone… what use…a little peace maybe… it's what's best for him…"
"*I'll* make sure I do what's best f' me," Remy whispered.
"Pushes away… blocks me out… need to do something… Jubilee would… change…"
"As soon as I know what dat is..."
"Can't go on… think objectively… if it was me… thank us later…"
"I'll decide!" He yelled that, striking the door with both hands. A pink glow erupted, turning the door into ssplintered chunks and ashes. Remy swayed from the force of the explosion, but stayed up and looked angrily into all the shocked faces. "I'm not a child!"
"Of course you-"
"You don' get to decide where I go or what I do, I broke my knee not my brain!" Red eyes glittered, numb loss and self-pity obliterated in a wave of fury. "But if dat's de way you all feel, I'd be happy to leave. And I won't go home, and I won't go to Massachusetts, an I won't talk to some pretentious therapist who t'ink dey know more dan me! *I'm* me, I know what's wrong wit' me!"
"Then what is wrong with you?" the professor asked reasonably.
"None of your goddamn business!" Awkwardly he turned and left, fury and practice making him surprisingly fast.
There was a long, embarrassed silence. "What did we do that was so terrible?" Bobby asked with a hurt expression.
"To us, nothin' much. Just bein' nosey." Rogue rested her hand reassuringly on his shoulder. "To him, one of th' most terrible things we coulda done if we'd planned it. We made him feel like an invalid. For someone who's spent their whole life bein' able ta take care of himself anywhere, that's hard."
"Remy? Ah want to apologize, we had no business doin' that. We just worry about ya is all." Rogue stood uncertainly in the doorway, watching him throw things at a bag on the bed.
"How nice for you." He didn't turn, didn't stop. "Would y' please go away?"
"No. Talk to me, please." He paused, looking down at something or other. The room was dim, what little light there was caught softly in his eyes. Rogue bit her lip. He looked so beautiful, even the darkness traced the angles of his face like a drowsy lover. But she would have enjoyed that determined posture and hidden agony so much more if he was another pleasing face on a movie screen, not a living soul she cared about.
"What's de point?"
Untouchable. Not because of her powers, she was fairly good at controlling them now. Because in the two months since she'd happily shown this new ability to everyone, he hadn't touched her once. Never reached for her, physically or emotionally, held her at a distance if she tried to initiate the slightest intimacy. "Please, don't push me away again," she begged helplessly.
"Dis ain't about you, or us. Dis is about *me*!"
"Ah know, and Ah want to help, but Ah don't understand it…"
"You want to help? Yell at me!" He glared angrily. "I'm being a jerk, I deserve it! But none of you ever do, even t'ough I could be sued for some of de t'ings I say…"
"You were angry at life, we didn't take it personal…"
"I *meant* it personal, I get so angry at all of you. You talk 'bout what I need, but you don't have to fix my life. You have to do *nothing*. Don't talk down to me, don't decide what's best for me, don't tell me it could have been worse and I should be grateful, 'cause sometimes I wish it *had* been worse. I don' want to be de one everyone has to treat special, I can't stand it…" The deceptively devilish red glitter disappeared as Remy closed his eyes in pain. "I could do anything, Rogue, I was so free… No matter what else life took, I was me and I could fly. But not even Stormy can understand dat, I *worked* for it, every day. I wish you wouldn't all pretend dat you can know how it hurts and make me feel worse dan useless. I already lost half my soul, don' take de rest." He took a shuddering breath and looked at her. Rogue looked at the tears filling his eyes and felt some of her own start.
"Ya can have mine." This time she didn't take no for an answer, holding him close in desperate determination. He leaned into her shoulder, crying softly. It was the first time he'd done that since the accident, the grief and loss evident with every desolate sob nearly broke her heart. But it was progress of a kind. He had a long way to go, but it was a start.
An old book sat unnoticed on the bedside table. If someone had opened it, they might have read the copperplate words written across that unprinted first page.
~Liliane - A ship without sails, a bird that can't sing, I'll be your harbour if you'll be my wings.
Armand LeBeau, 9th October 1945~
=End=