A Soul Divided: Part Five

by Kerri

Would there be any possibility of getting out of here for awhile?" Charlotte asked Jean. "Maybe look around town, see a movie."

"Cabin fever?"

"Sort of. Just want to see something else." The walls were closing in on her, she was ready to scream bloody murder if she didn't think they'd believe it.

Beast looked at her, his eyes twinkling. "Is this your method of informing me your favorite color is no longer blue?"

"Oh, I still like blue, but maybe I want to see some different shades," she grinned back. "Oh, please, Mr. Warden, have mercy on my poor damned soul!" She fell to her knees, hands clasped in front of her in a supplicant pose.

Magneto chose that moment to enter the med lab. "Is there something going on here I should know about?"

"I'm begging for clemency and an early release," Charlotte got her feet, blushing a little at getting caught acting silly. "I was hoping to go into town today."

"I do not see any reason why you should not go. You have been confined since you arrived, a change of scenery will do you some good." He turned to Jean. "Who is available to accompany her?"

"Why not Hank? He's been cooped up here with me the entire time." Charlotte smiled at Beast. "Whaddaya say? Pardons for both of us?"

He didn't return her smile. "I do not venture out among the populace very often."

"Why not?"

He didn't respond. Jean answered for him. "The outcry against mutants is hard for us all, but especially those with physical mutations. They often become targets because of their visibility."

"Oh. I'm sorry, Hank, I didn't realize-"

"Don't apologize," he brushed her words away. "It is a fact here, and I've learned to live with it."

"Gambit is free right now," Jean said. "I'll ask him to take you."

"Is that a good idea?" Charlotte asked. "He's liable to bury me 6 feet under and tell the gods I died."

Jean and Beast looked blankly at her. Magneto stifled a chuckle.

She always got a laugh from the old folks, she thought to herself. Was it her, or didn't anyone have a sense of humor in this place? But, then again, they didn't have much to smile about, did they?

"I'll talk to him anyway," Jean answered. Some of the things this Charlotte said were very odd. The other reality must be a strange place.

Left alone with Beast she reached out and patted his shoulder. "I am sorry, I didn't think. Hank and I often go to operas and plays, the symphony. I just assumed you would be willing to go with me."

"Under other circumstances I would be delighted to escort you."

"Do you ever go anywhere?"

"I have ventured out from time to time and I have enjoyed some success appearing in public locally, but the successes are few and far between. I would hate to spoil your afternoon with a display of aggression on my part."

"Your choice. As I recall, we've shared a few displays of aggression in the past and it was a lot of fun."

He smiled again. "I'm sure you'll enjoy your outing with Gambit."

"That's if he'll agree. I seriously have my doubts. I suppose it would be too much to hope someone will just give over the car keys and let me go."

"Not too much to hope, if we trusted you," the snide voice said behind her.

She turned to look at Remy in the doorway.

"If you're goin' wi me, gal, den get a move on." He glared at her, again. That's all he'd been doing for the last week, when he wasn't looking at her like she'd grown another head. Maybe she had, come to think of it. Still, sometimes she wanted to smack the boy around, just on general principle.

"Okay." Charlotte threw Beast a last look. "If I don't come back, send the Mounties."

She followed him into the garage, looking at the different vehicles for use. "Which one are we taking?"

He walked over to his motorcycle parked to the side. "De bike. You got a problem wi' dat?"

Charlotte grinned at him. "Not at all. Got one myself."

He rolled it out and started it up. "Get on."

She hesitated a moment, then climbed on behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. His long hair felt silky against her cheek, like a child's. It was comforting in a small way. Small comforts were all she could afford here.

"Where you want to go?"

"How about some place we can get a few beers and play some pool? Is there a Harry's Hideaway here?"

"Dere's a place outside town called Harry's. We try dat 'un." He gunned the engine and off they went.

She'd never ridden double with Remy, it was different than riding with Logan. With Remy she couldn't see over his shoulder, she had to depend on the way he shifted his body to tell her when to lean into the curves. It was a curiously peaceful ride. She'd never been at odds with Remy, this unaccustomed hostility his counterpart held against her both confused and saddened her. She wanted her playful companion back, wanted her Logan back, wanted everything back she'd lost. In the safety of the fast ride, she let her tears flow silently, whisked away by the wind.

Gambit felt her grief, even as he sought to push it away from him, trying to dredge up his rage at what had been stolen from him. He raced the engine in a futile effort to outrun her emotion spilling over into him, but it wouldn't work. He'd forgotten he wasn't the only victim here.

They pulled up in front of a shabby establishment, a faded sign out front announced they had arrived at 'Harry's'.

She released him and swung herself off, looking up at the building. It reminded her of the old roadhouses of the fifties and sixties, places you could find trouble or it could find you. She loved it immediately.

"Let's go," she said with a smile of anticipation. "You do play pool, don't you?"

He snorted. "An' who you t'ink taught you to play?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

He returned her smile for the first time. "Better not, I doan t'ink my heart could take it."

"8 ball, left side pocket."

They watched as the cue ball slide almost in slow motion from the stick, to strike the sides twice, then gently butt against the 8 ball, kissing it into the pocket. More than a few groans rang out around the table.

"Aw, man," one big burly fella moaned. "She's whippin' your ass, buddy."

Gambit shrugged. "She can whip any part of me she wants, homme." His left eye winked at her lasciviously.

Charlotte laughed, straightening up from her position over the table. "Me? Threaten you with a good time? Only if you don't make good on your wager. Let's see, that's how many beers you owe me?"

"Least a dozen," Gambit answered. He'd stopped keeping score an hour ago. "'Nother game?"

"Nope, I'm gonna rest on my laurels. I know you're letting me win, and I want to stop while you're still feeling generous."

He stopped at the bar to get a couple of beers, then made his way over to their table. "You shoot pretty good, chere."

"Thanks." Sometime during the last couple of hours she'd gone from being 'gal' to 'chere'. It was a nice change. Another small comfort. "May I ask you a question?"

He nodded.

"How did you lose the eye?"

"Dat what you want to know?" One hand absently stroked the side of the patch. "Not a very happy story."

"I apologize if it's personal."

"I'll tell you, it's jus' not a good story. Makes Gambit look foolish."

"Why would you look silly?"

"'Cause I was doin' somet'ing I shouldn' been doin' in a place I wasn' supposed to be."

"Don't tell me it was a woman." Charlotte laughed. "I swear, neither of you ever learn, do you? Whatever happened to exercising a little self-control?"

So the other Gambit was a rogue with the ladies, too? "Funny you be laughin', since Blade be de woman I wi' at de time."

It didn't seem so humorous now. She didn't like this story now. "She did that to you?"

He shook his head. "Wolverine, he got sharp claws, non?"

The was nothing to say to that. They lapsed in silence, drinking their beers and listening to the music and conversation around them.

Lem, the big fella, wandered over and asked Charlotte to play a round of pool with him. She glanced at Gambit to see if he minded but he waved her on. She took the cue stick from Lem, looking back at the Cajun. The sudden mood change was her own fault for bringing up the subject. She should've known better, but it was so nice to have a semblance of Remy with her she'd forgotten he wasn't her friend. Pushing away the unease, she gave Lem a friendly smile and allowed him to be a gentleman and let her break first.

Gambit watched her play, watched her laugh and chat with Lem, not getting too close to the other man. Her behavior held him off at arms length without ever saying a cross word. Blade liked to immerse herself in the seedy atmosphere of the bar, had her own admirers she encouraged here. He could pick them out fairly easily. Even now some were eying Charlotte's trim figure, few maybe wondering why she wasn't acting in character.

He could see one of them getting ready to make his move and briefly thought of interfering, but decided against doing anything just yet. He didn't know she might welcome the attention. Just how different were they?

Charlotte leaned over the table lining up her shot when she felt someone brush up against her. She looked back to see one of the yahoos grinning stupidly at her. "Hiya, honey," he slurred in a drunken voice.

She stood up, using the cue stick to move him back. "I'll warn you this one time," she said in a even, almost amused voice, "don't touch me."

He laughed it off. "Aw, honey, don' get mad. Jus' havin' a little fun."

"Have your fun somewhere else." She turned back to the table and leaned over again for the shot.

The soon-to-be educated drunk, who didn't realize he'd only get one warning, crowded up against her, rubbing himself obscenely against her denim-clad bottom.

Before Gambit could react the man was rolling around on the floor, hands cupping his privates, the blood draining rapidly from his face. Charlotte stood with the cue stick, twirling it in her hands, throwing out a challenge to the rest of the crowd.

The victim's buddies weren't laughing. They separated, one going to each side of her.

She stepped away from the table to give herself more room, disassociating herself from her thinking mind and letting her natural instincts take over. She continued to spin the stick, waiting for one of them to make a move.

The one on the right rushed her, trying for her arm. She sidestepped him and jammed the thick end into his gut, then swung it back up to strike the other's head in a solid 'thunk.' She helped the first down with a roundhouse kick to the face. The second fell on his own.

The cue stopped in mid-spin and she looked around at the silent barroom. "Anyone else?"

No one else answered. Again she turned back to the table, this time taking the shot. "Damn!" she swore loudly. "Missed. Bet I knocked that stick out of whack." She glared at the bodies being escorted out none too gently by the bartender and a couple of volunteers.

Lem laughed, his big body shaking so much he sounded like a jingle bell with all the chrome he was wearing. He leaned against the table shaking his head. "God, Blade, the things you do."

The code name sobered her up in an instant, every bit of enjoyment dissolving right before her eyes. 'What am I doing here?' ran through her mind.

Gambit cursed himself when she bolted from the bar, tossing a few bills on the table and chasing after her.

He caught her before she got too far, ducking to avoid the swing that she threw at him. He grabbed her fist, pulling her off balance against his chest. "What you doin'?" he demanded.

"What am I doing here having fun when I need to be finding a way home?" she ground out between clenched teeth. "What's wrong with me?" She tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let her, holding her tightly in his arms.

Then he felt the fight drain out of her and she sagged against him, forcing him to support her weight. When he shifted his balance she slipped a foot behind his and shoved him over to the ground, sliding out of his grasp.

He watched her stare down at him, then she was gone, fading into the darkness.

<I'm sorry, Remy> echoed through his head.

"Charlotte!" he yelled. No answer. Damn.

"Where did ya lose her?" Wolverine demanded again.

Gambit bit back an angry reply. He'd already told this story more than once. They were acting like he 'let' her walk away. They didn't see her disappear like smoke.

Magneto sat at the table in the war room, tapping his fingers on the surface.

"She was fine until someone called her Blade," Jean pondered out loud.

"Understandable," Magnus answered. "A form of shell shock. She's been here for more than a week, confined to the mansion. No one here calls her Blade and unless she looks in a mirror she doesn't recognize her counterpart. Taking her to a place people would know her tore her comfort zone she'd built around herself to deal with her present situation. She's feeling guilty and ashamed."

"What for?" Gambit asked, ignoring the look Wolverine was giving him, the one that said it was all his fault and they'd be 'discussing' it later.

"For bein' alive an' rememberin' she's alive." Wolverine's voice was thick and rough with experience. "We got to find her before she does somethin' stupid."

[next part]

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