Diamonds Etched in Blood: Part 7-9

Part 7

Remy¡¦s steps made no noise on the sleek metal floors, and his breaths came silently as he walked down the hall to the medlab. Simply waiting for Beast to come give the X-Men an update had become old hours ago and now it had reached the point where it was unbearable. He was going to have answers, even if it took spying to get them.

Remy stopped in front of the heavy gray door that was tightly shut. He pressed his ear against it but even his highly trained thief hearing could detect nothing. Unconsciously, his fists balled in frustration at his sides. There wouldn¡¦t be any other way to get inside of the lab besides this door, and he certainly couldn¡¦t find out anything from outside. Remy brought his hand up to rub the usual bristle of hair on his chin, a thoughtful expression on his face. He could pick the lock... or he could just knock. Well if he wanted to get on Henry¡¦s good side he should probably do the latter. Hesitantly lifting his fist, Remy banged on the metallic surface. The noise echoed hollowly in the empty hall.

It took a few moments before the door opened to reveal the Beast... or what used to be the Beast. Remy had to hide an expression of shock as he stared at the figure before him, but he was willing to bet that Hank had seen the surprise on his face before he was able to get his guard up. The blue fur was almost all gone now, having fallen off to reveal red, tender skin that looked as if it had been badly burned, or maybe just newly healed after a severe wound. He seemed to have shrunk a bit too, not quite so massive and muscular, though still formidable. His hands and feet were smaller... more proportioned to his body.

The clear blue eyes stared at Remy intently, a hard edge almost drowning out the normal kind and paternal glow that resided there. The long fangs were no more, and the thin lips were turned slightly downward. Remy found himself staring at a stranger, and not only because of the altered physical appearance. This wasn¡¦t the bubbly, bouncing Beast he knew. This was Dr. Henry McCoy trying his best to save lives.

¡¦Can I help you? Lost perhaps?¡¦ The words were clear and precise, speech no longer hindered by overgrown canines. There was also a note of annoyance there. The doctor did not want to be disturbed right now. He was no doubt incredibly busy at the moment.

The cold exterior put Remy slightly off-guard and it took him a moment to adjust. The familiarity of the detached distance that occupied Henry¡¦s countenance was unnerving. It was the same countenance Remy put on for a thieving job. When one pushed all emotional attachments away replacing them with hard, effective, knowledge, skill, and logic. When one stopped being human for a while so that humanity could not get in the way of the goal. To see Henry forcing himself into such a state meant that things were very bad.

¡¦Non, not lost.¡¦ He returned Henry¡¦s gaze steadily.

A melodramatic sigh preceded the next words. ¡¦Of course not, things never are quite that simple. You want to know the status of your comrades I suspect.¡¦

¡¦Oui.¡¦

Another sigh. The hard mask cracked slightly to show a glimpse of the Henry Remy knew. A tired, worn-out expression flickered across the features before it was swallowed up in the pretense of professionalism.

¡¦Unfortunately the answer is not good. I was planning on making a quick sojourn upstairs to give the remainder of the team an update, but I suppose it would not hurt to tell you now.¡¦ He seemed to take a moment to collect himself and prepare for his next words before he continued. ¡¦Apparently our X-Factor genes have been manipulated somehow, negating our powers. The change appears to be on the sub-molecular level. Needless to say this is not anything akin to a Genoshan slave collar.

¡¦As a result our bodies are being forced to compensate for some very profound changes in our physiology and in some instances they are simply not capable. A case in point being Maggot. Do you remember those two unappealing slugs that used to follow him around?¡¦

Remy nodded slightly. He vaguely recalled seeing them and remembered Storm telling him about them on his first day back.

¡¦They are interconnected directly with Maggot¡¦s digestive system. Through a sort of bond that they shared he was able to draw energy from the food they ate. He has no digestive system in a conventional sense. Those slugs performed the job of the normal stomach, liver, intestines, etc. But since the suppression of our mutant abilities they have disappeared, assumedly dead. In laymen¡¦s terms, Maggot is starving to death, though the exact process is much more complicated than that.

¡¦Warren is a bit more stable, but by no means in good condition. The cells in his wings are slowly being consumed by gangrene. In effect, his wings are dying. I¡¦m considering amputation, but am holding off as long as I can.¡¦

He paused taking stock of Remy¡¦s tightly masked expression. As if considering not continuing with the harsh, grim details. Remy managed to look composed despite the growing sick terror inside him. The doctor had yet to mention Sara or Storm. As if on cue, Henry continued his solemn account.

¡¦Dr. Reyes and I have recently finished surgery on Marrow. Sara¡¦s injuries are a bit of a mystery to me, partly because I do not completely understand how her powers normally function. My best guess is that there are two components to her abilities. One is the production of the bones we have come to identify with her, but there is also some kind of durability, and resistance that her body possesses. Despite the fact that bones poked through obscure places on a regular basis, no arteries or organs were ever pierced or damaged. I account this to an increased strength that these normally delicate parts possessed which made them impenetrable. The best theory I can come up with is that this aspect of her power was negated first, allowing the usually harmless bones to cause internal bleeding and damage before the bones themselves stopped growing. She¡¦s stable now... though she¡¦s lost a lot of blood. I don¡¦t know how much permanent damage may have been done.¡¦

Remy couldn¡¦t hide the terror on his face now. Though Henry never said it, Remy got the distinct impression that he was not even sure if Sara would ever even wake up. The older man¡¦s head tilted slightly in concern at the sudden paleness of the other¡¦s skin. ¡¦Do you want me to continue?¡¦

¡¦Yah.¡¦ Remy managed weakly.

¡¦Storm¡¦s injuries were the only ones that were not directly caused by the absence of her mutant powers. She was flying when it happened and her trauma is a result of the fall. I won¡¦t go into the details. Suffice it to say her condition is very tenuous and despite surgery and medical aid, I cannot be sure how she will progress.¡¦

Once again Remy caught the hint. Stormy might die. He forced the sick feeling down and carefully constructed some semblance of control around the raging torrent of fear, worry, and desperation within him. ¡¦Can I see dem?¡¦ His words came out somewhat normal sounding, though a bit shaky.

Henry regarded him for a moment, giving him an evaluating stare. ¡¦I suppose it could only help at this point to have somebody familiar nearby,¡¦ he said finally. ¡¦But if you end up being a disturbance I will have to ask you to leave.¡¦ Remy nodded in understanding. ¡¦I¡¦m going to go inform the rest of the X-Men of what I¡¦ve told you. Dr. Reyes is in charge while I am gone.¡¦

¡¦Oui, I got it.¡¦

Henry seemed satisfied by that and looked about to move past Remy through the door when he stopped. Tilting his head he gave the young man a quizzical look. ¡¦Well, I guess that answers that question. I always had wondered what your eyes would look like had you not been born a mutant.¡¦

Remy stared at him, confused for a moment. ¡¦M¡¦ eyes?¡¦

¡¦You didn¡¦t expect them to remain red-on-black once your mutant gene was suppressed did you?¡¦

It suddenly made excruciatingly obvious sense. He had noticed the world looked... well, different since he¡¦d woken up on the roof, but he hadn¡¦t been able to put his finger on the exact change. And with everything else on his mind he hadn¡¦t given it much thought. Now he noticed why everything seemed so strange. Colors were less washed out; they looked brighter. His eyes were collecting less light than usual. He¡¦d been born with a unique eye structure that could be attributed to his mutant abilities. It allowed enhanced night vision and let him detect some wavelengths of light out of the normal human spectrum. Remy was struck by the thought that he would be just as susceptible to the dark as anybody else now.

¡¦What color are dey?¡¦ he asked, the thought suddenly occurring to him.

¡¦A rather pleasant shade of russet.¡¦

¡¦Huh?¡¦

¡¦Brown.¡¦

Henry actually smiled slightly, despite everything, at the bewildered, awe-struck look on Remy¡¦s face. He was Diablo Blanc no more. Though having red eyes could be advantageous at times, especially in his normal line of work where intimidation could mean everything, he had often wondered what it would be like to be like most humans. Not to have to hide behind sunglasses in fear that someone would discover he was a mutant, not to have to endure the prophecies of the Thief¡¦s Guild that condemned him as a devil, not to look in the mirror and wonder if they were true. He was free of all that. He was normal. And being normal may have cost Ororo and Sarah their lives.

Hank seemed to sense Remy¡¦s preoccupation with his fallen teammates and decided that it was time to leave. Pushing past into the hall, the echoing of his steps soon faded away into the lift. Remy stood there a moment longer taking a deep breath to mentally prepare himself. Then he entered the room.

Inside were three beds and one makeshift pad of blankets on the floor that supported Maggot. All of the patients were unconscious, except for Warren, who lay on his side much the same way as when Remy last seen him. His eyes were open and he seemed to be staring at an empty spot on the floor. He glanced up when Remy came in and gave a barely perceptible nod of acknowledgement, but nothing more. Remy figured that was the best he was going to get from the winged Angel after what he knew of Remy¡¦s involvement in the Morlock Massacre and the loss of his first set of wings. But it was enough; at least Warren was willing to tolerate him.

Sara and Storm lay side by side on separate beds. Both were covered in bandages and a white sheet that extended up to below their shoulders. Both were unconscious. Dr. Cecilia Reyes was busy over Storm, stethoscope pressed to the injured woman¡¦s chest. Noticing Remy, she quickly finished her cursory exam, moving to take care of Maggot on the other side of the room and to provide Remy with at least a guise of privacy. After a moment¡¦s hesitation he decided to go to Sara first. He still didn¡¦t feel ready to face Storm.

Sara looked deathly pale, her face relaxed and expressionless. She almost looked dead. But as he reached beneath the sheet and took her hand in his he could feel the soft beat of her pulse beneath the skin. Gently he pushed some of the reddish-pink hair out of her eyes, smoothing in back with great care. A large bandage stretched across her chest above the blanket, it¡¦s mesh fabric pulled tightly. He tried not to wonder about the wound it covered.

Swallowing, he managed to find his voice. ¡¦Bonjour, petite.¡¦

Silence. He watched her for a moment, wondering what to say, finally he chose to simply depend on what he felt to guide him.

¡¦...I know I done y¡¦ wrong in de past... but I promise dat I won¡¦ let anyt¡¦ing hurt y¡¦ no more. Whoever¡¦s responsible for dis is gonna pay. I make sure o¡¦ dat.¡¦ He gave her hand a squeeze and then released it. ¡¦Girl, y¡¦ seen more terrible t¡¦ings in your life than should ever be allowed. ...An¡¦... I¡¦m sorry f¡¦ all de pain I caused you. ....I been sorry... every moment since dat night in de tunnels.¡¦ He gazed at her unresponsive face. So young, and yet hardened beyond the point of most experienced criminals. He patted her hand gently and turned away.

Storm lay only a few steps away, but those steps seemed like an infinite, impenetrable distance. Forcing himself to walk, eventually he stood over her, looking down at the once majestic Ororo Munroe. He was unprepared for the feelings she evoked, pain, despair, yearning... How had that little child with whom he was a thief come to mean so much to him?

Her eyelids were shut tight and he found himself wishing to see those clear blue eyes, sometimes white when her powers were active, contrasting with the smooth dark chocolate skin that made her look so exotic. But he was left to only remember them and envision their friendly compassion in his mind.

Her hair was pushed back from her face by a thick bandage that spanned her forehead. The long, silver locks fell in tangled strings across the edge of the bed and he found himself running his hands through them, trying to get the knots out. Even wounded and broken as she was she was still beautiful. The kind of regal creature that existed only in fairy tales and legends, too awe-inspiring to be real.

He unconsciously reached for her hand beneath the blanket and was startled to find something hard and rigid in its place... a cast. He pulled his hand back, bringing in up to cup her cheek instead. The skin lacked a certain glow and was a bit colder than it should have been. Something in the back of his mind mused on that and decided she was probably in shock.

The silence felt awkward, oppressive, and Remy suddenly felt the inexplicable need to fill it.

¡¦Hey, Stormy,¡¦ he whispered, his voice raspy. He waited, half-expecting her to suddenly sit up and return his greeting.

She didn¡¦t.

¡¦Y¡¦ know if y¡¦ really wanted to take a break from leadin¡¦ de X-Men, dere were much better ways to go ¡¦bout doin¡¦ it. Ever hear of paid vacations? Oh wait we don¡¦ get paid...¡¦ The joke was an attempt to lighten the tension he felt tightening around him. It failed miserably, sounding hollow and cruel. His own clumsiness and lack of grace felt like a knife stabbing his heart.

Finally he released a ragged sigh of frustration. ¡¦...¡¦m sorry Stormy. Never was much good at dis stuff.¡¦

She didn¡¦t reply, didn¡¦t react.

¡¦I don¡¦ know if y¡¦ can hear me. Suppose it doesn¡¦ much matter, but... I don¡¦ remember ever havin¡¦ a friend like y¡¦. De day I met y¡¦ was de luckiest day o¡¦ m¡¦ life, cherie. It scares me ta think o¡¦ de man I might¡¦ve become wit¡¦out you. Y¡¦ always been dere f¡¦ me, ¡¦Roro. An¡¦ y¡¦ believed in me even though I never did... I always t¡¦ought y¡¦ were somethin¡¦ special. Often wondered if y¡¦ weren¡¦ a goddess. Sure coulda fooled me.¡¦

On some dim level he was aware of Warren and Cecilia listening to him, and was self-conscious because of it. But he needed to talk too badly. He¡¦d kept his feelings from her so often, kept his feelings from everybody. She deserved better than that. He owed it to her to let her know how much he cared about her, even if she was oblivious and only he could hear it.

¡¦I been doin¡¦ a lot o¡¦ thinkin¡¦... Scary, huh? Well, after de... Trial, I regretted ever joinin¡¦ de X-Men f¡¦ a while. T¡¦ought it caused me more pain den it was worth. But even t¡¦ough I can¡¦t say I ain¡¦t a little bitter, I don¡¦ t¡¦ink I would change t¡¦ings. I only stayed wit¡¦ de X-Men in de first place t¡¦ make sure y¡¦ were okay. I mean, a house full o¡¦ people runnin¡¦ around in brightly colored spandex don¡¦ come across as de safest, sanest bunch dere is. Never expected to learn everyt¡¦ing I did, t¡¦ change so much. An¡¦ I owe dat all t¡¦ y¡¦. Not saying I belong here, dat I really am meant t¡¦ be a X-Man, I jus¡¦ sayin¡¦ dat I¡¦m a better person because o¡¦ dem... an because o¡¦ you.¡¦

He brushed her cheek gently, as he watched her, eyes glazing over in the memories of the times they¡¦d shared. He was startled to realize how much he loved this woman. It was platonic, of course, he¡¦d known her as a child and somehow that made a romantic relationship a bit awkward. There had never been that original attraction because of the original age difference. And by the time she had been returned to her adult form, the non-romantic friendship had already been well established. Maybe if they had met under different circumstances... But he didn¡¦t need another lover; he¡¦d had enough of those in the past. What he needed was a friend.

It struck him that he would gladly give his life for this woman. Remy LeBeau, notorious for looking out for himself, was willing to give all for another if need be. That had been happening a lot since the X-Men. Somehow a kind of nobility he hadn¡¦t known he possessed had made itself prominent, and it still amazed him at times.

Earnestly, selflessly, he bent and kissed her softly. The full lips were warm beneath his, though unresponsive. Still he found the little spark of life there encouraging. Lifting his head slowly, he gazed at her face. ¡¦T¡¦ank y¡¦, ma cherie. F¡¦ everyt¡¦ing... An¡¦ I promise y¡¦ like I did Sara, dat I gonna make de person responsible for dis,¡¦ he gestured with one hand at her injured form, ¡¦pay. Dearly.¡¦ With one last caress of her cheek he straightened fully and turned. Warren and Cecilia self-consciously flicked their gazes away from him, returning to their previous activities as if they hadn¡¦t been listening. Cecilia went back to tending to Maggot and Warren resumed staring at the floor. Remy might have found them amusing had he not had so much emotion and resolve churning through him.

He would find the one responsible for this.

And he would make that person sorry.

Part 8

Remy was surprised to enter the kitchen a few hours later to see a complete breakfast in the works. The stove was occupied by Rogue who was busily frying what looked like and smelled like eggs. Joseph stood next to her mixing iced tea. After a moment of listening Remy realized that Rogue was giving the young, amnesic man directions on how to make the drink. That guy really was too sheltered.

He fought down the wave of jealousy at seeing the two together and dropped into a chair at the table across from Bobby. The other man looked at him, a dark expression on his face. Layers of sweaters clothed him and his arms were wrapped tightly around his body. He swayed gently back and forth in his seat as if he were trying to push away a great chill. Remy gave him a strange look; it was only mid-autumn and not incredibly cold for the time of year. Drake¡¦s expression darkened further in reaction.

¡¦Where have you been?¡¦ he snapped, the words laden heavily with suspicion.

¡¦Now really ain¡¦t de time, Drake,¡¦ Remy¡¦s tone could have frozen fire. He didn¡¦t need this boy giving him trouble now.

¡¦Avoiding the question, Gambit?¡¦

¡¦Non, jus¡¦ givin¡¦ y¡¦ fair warning.¡¦

Bobby seemed to retreat for a second before his expression hardened again and he decided to press the issue. ¡¦Thanks for the thought. Now answer the question.¡¦

In reply Remy leaned forward across the table, willing the unnerving, red eyes he was gifted/cursed with at birth to glow brightly. Red eyes he no longer possessed. After a moment Remy realized this but forced his stare to remain steady and unfaltering nonetheless. ¡¦I don¡¦ take orders,¡¦ he sneered.

Bobby stepped up to the staring contest, trying to meet the intimidating gaze. He failed, flinching away after a minute. ¡¦No, you just betray those who trust you,¡¦ he mumbled under his breath.

Remy managed to hear the comment. Standing suddenly, he placed his clenched fists on the table, supporting his weight on them so he could lean forward over Bobby. ¡¦You f¡¦rget dat I¡¦ve risked my hide f¡¦r this team over an¡¦ over ¡¦gain, and dat not once was I not dere when I was needed. I proved myself. You betrayed me by not trustin¡¦ dat I would never do anyt¡¦ing t¡¦ hurt de X-Men.¡¦ Normally he wouldn¡¦t have reacted so harshly to the insult but right now he really wasn¡¦t in the mood. Besides, that had been a pretty low blow. ¡¦You also f¡¦rget dat I c¡¦n kick y¡¦ butt,¡¦ he added smugly.

Rogue turned from where she was, twisting so that she could keep one hand on the frying pan. ¡¦Both o¡¦ ya boys bettah calm down. We got enough problems without ya¡¦ll causin¡¦ more.¡¦

Remy didn¡¦t look at her but after another minute, when he felt Drake was sufficiently intimidated, he sat down. He remained tense and kept his eyes on Bobby a bit longer. The other man did not meet his stare, a light blush staining his cheeks. Finally Remy eased back in the seat, sprawling across it in a more comfortable position, easy confidence written across the tight mask of his features. Satisfied, Rogue turned back to her cooking. Joseph watched a moment longer and then resumed mixing the iced tea.

A long silence ensued before Rogue¡¦s southern drawl interrupted it. ¡¦So where have ya been, Remy?¡¦ The question was asked casually, but there was a peculiar edge to it, like she was testing him. Asking him to put to rest some fear she had. Remy¡¦s gaze snapped to the woman standing over the stove. Even she didn¡¦t trust him!

¡¦What is dis, an interrogation?¡¦ he snapped angrily.

Rogue didn¡¦t turn to face him as she spoke. ¡¦No, sugah. It¡¦s jus¡¦ a question. What are ya gettin¡¦ all riled up about?¡¦ She was challenging him, finding his reaction to be proof that he was up to no good. His eyes narrowed unconsciously. Despite having absorbed his very essence on several occasions, she still knew so little about him. She still refused to see so much.

¡¦Y¡¦ t¡¦ink I¡¦m riled up now? Y¡¦ ain¡¦t seen not¡¦in yet.¡¦

¡¦Stop avoidin¡¦ the subject,¡¦ she retorted crisply.

¡¦Remy, please just answer the question.¡¦ He looked up, surprised to see Betsy standing nearby, looking upon him with an unreadable expression. That woman walked way too quietly. He contemplated her words for a moment. There was no suspicion there. It was said more like a statement than anything. She wasn¡¦t questioning his integrity or his motives. She wasn¡¦t accusing him. A tight smile spread across his face.

¡¦Sure chere, jus¡¦ gotta ask me nicely,¡¦ Rogue glared at him from where she stood. ¡¦Been searchin¡¦ de mansion for any sign o¡¦ what caused us t¡¦ loose our powers. I also checked t¡¦ see if Cerebro found anyt¡¦ing. Ain¡¦t turned up not¡¦in¡¦.¡¦ He sighed, discouraged. It was all true. After he had left the medlab, he¡¦d searched for clues, any sort of lead. But there was nothing, and as a result the frustration was building up inside of him.

¡¦Oh.¡¦ Rogue turned back to her cooking, but he caught the blush rising to her cheeks. ¡¦Ah¡¦m sorry Remy. Ah didn¡¦t mean ta point the finger at ya. This is just very... frustratin¡¦. Some o¡¦ our own are injured an¡¦ we don¡¦ even know why.¡¦ Her shoulders sagged a bit as she sighed.

¡¦¡¦S okay chere. Guess I jus¡¦ have one o¡¦ dose suspicious personalities.¡¦

A few chairs over Betsy sat down, rubbing her temple. The action reminded Remy of his own pounding headache that had failed to dissipate over time like his nausea had. It was a throbbing pain right behind his eyes and now that he was still and doing nothing it became more noticeable. It drove him to his feet in the hopes of finding a distraction. He decided that maybe making his own omelet wouldn¡¦t be a bad idea.

Wandering over to the cooking area, he set about gathering ingredients. ¡¦I leave de mansion f¡¦r a little while an¡¦ de whole spice cabinet falls inta disarray,¡¦ Remy muttered to himself as he peered into the redwood cupboard ¡¦You northerners don¡¦ have any sense o¡¦ taste.¡¦ He reached in and pulled out the few flavorings he could find and turned to glance sidelong at Rogue. Her scrambled eggs were finished and she was busy pushing them onto plates to hand out to anyone who wanted some.

Remy¡¦s hand began to itch suddenly and he looked down to see tiny cuts littering its back. They were all about the size of a pinprick and looked to be maybe a day or so old. He wondered where he could have got them but passed the wounds of nonchalantly as being nothing out of the ordinary, only something he¡¦d gotten when he wasn¡¦t paying much attention.

¡¦Is this good?¡¦ he heard Joseph ask, referring to the iced tea he had mixed.

¡¦I dunno, let me have a taste, sugah... oh, umm... *cough* it¡¦s... uh... perfect.¡¦ Remy hid a smile at Rogue¡¦s desperate attempt to hide her distaste. She glanced over at him with a sour expression on her face that soured even further when she noticed the smirk he was wearing.

¡¦Ya want me to leave the burner on and the fryin¡¦ pan here for ya?¡¦

¡¦Merci.¡¦ She vacated the space in front of the stove and, balancing plates on her arms, managed to make it to the table without dropping anything. Joseph followed her and behind him, Remy heard a few muttered ¡¦thank you¡¦s followed by the clanging of utensils as the table¡¦s occupants began to eat.

At the stove Remy proceeded to crack eggs in a bowl, beating them and then pouring them into the hot pan. It was strangely gratifying and calming to perform such a common, habitual act. A wry smile touched his lips. He¡¦d wasted hours sitting on the roof in angst time after time, brooding over his life when all he¡¦d really needed was some eggs to give him solace. The amusement died quickly though as the ivory color of the egg whites reminded him of the snow haired woman in the room below him fighting for her life.

At the table he heard Betsy speak up, ¡¦I checked the mansion for clues also but I didn¡¦t find anything. Wolverine is out checking the grounds, though I doubt he¡¦ll find much without his enhanced senses. I figured at least searching the guest rooms would produce results.¡¦ He imagined her shrugging in the silence. ¡¦But there was nothing.¡¦

¡¦What a minute!¡¦ Rogue interjected. ¡¦Ya checked our bedrooms?¡¦

¡¦It was necessary,¡¦ Betsy replied calmly.

¡¦Necessary! Ah don¡¦t think goin¡¦ through somebody¡¦s personal stuff is necessary!¡¦

¡¦I doubt you have much personal stuff left after Bastion cleaned the mansion out,¡¦ Betsy returned.

¡¦It doesn¡¦t mattah!¡¦ Rogue yelled exasperated, then added more quietly, ¡¦It¡¦s the principle of the thing.¡¦

¡¦I agree with Rogue, you should have informed us of your intent before you entered our rooms without permission,¡¦ Joseph added.

¡¦Why? What do you have to hide?¡¦ The accusation in Betsy¡¦s tone was plain.

¡¦Nothing!¡¦ Rogue retorted angrily. Remy half-turned to watch. The idea of Betsy having searched his room didn¡¦t thrill him, but he knew she would find nothing of importance. A good thief knew never to leave anything worth hiding unhidden. All his belongings were tucked safely away in his suitcase, guarded by a lock that she would have no chance of picking.

¡¦Then what is the problem?¡¦ asked Betsy calmly. ¡¦Warren and many of our other teammates are injured and we do not know who to blame. Finding out is worth a little sacrifice of privacy.¡¦

He thought he caught a glint of sadness and regret in her eyes. Remy figured she was probably crying inside over Warren¡¦s condition but the warrior in her would never let her show it. He understood the mask she wore. He often sported a similar one himself, letting it fall only when he was surrounded by those he trusted. Lately, he¡¦d been wearing the mask more and more often.

Rogue¡¦s eyes sparked with anger. ¡¦That¡¦s easy foh you ta say when your not the one sacrificing your privacy.¡¦

Bobby tried to hide the smirk on his face but failed. ¡¦Oooh, cat fight.¡¦ he mumbled. Remy couldn¡¦t help a slight chuckle despite the tense situation. Rogue shot an angry look at him, which he returned with the most innocent expression he could muster.

¡¦Did you search our rooms too?¡¦ she asked sassily.

¡¦Non petite, I didn¡¦ think I would find much considering most o¡¦ dem are completely empty.¡¦ He raised his eyebrows as if to say ¡¦including yours, so why are you so protective of it?¡¦ She watched him for a moment and then shook her head in frustration.

¡¦This mansion used to be my home an¡¦ mah room held memories of mah whole life. Ta you it might jus¡¦ be an empty space but ta me... it¡¦s a lot more. Ya should¡¦ve respected that an¡¦ asked me first.¡¦ Her voice was quieter than before, some semblance of calm working into it.

¡¦It is foolish to become so attached to such a place.¡¦ But Betsy returned her attention back to her eggs as she spoke. Her body language said that she saw no point in continuing such an argument. ¡¦But next time I will ask first.¡¦ That was as close to an apology as Betsy was going to get. Rogue seemed satisfied enough to let the subject drop and they continued to eat in silence.

Remy watched them all a moment longer. They had changed so much, hardened by the pummeling of suffering they¡¦d endured. First Onslaught, then Operation: Zero Tolerance, then his own Trial, and countless other things. And now this. The smiles and jokes were gone, the family ripped to shreds by a myriad of conflicting stresses. Tensions were too strong, words too bitter, the dream too distant. What would Xavier think if he were here? The X-Men were strong, and their ties to each other had held them together through crisis after crisis... but now even those were being destroyed, leaving only a thin, worn little string connecting them. ...But then, sometimes the worn were also the strongest, toughened over time to resist even the most taxing obstacles. The X-Men would survive this. They were fighters, hard to break, hard to kill. No matter how dismal things might seem they would go on. They had to. Otherwise, what hope would the world have?

Remy tried not to consider the desolate future Bishop had brought with him. Tried not to consider the fact that all the X-Men had died except for him. Maybe that was because he wasn¡¦t an X-Man. That hadn¡¦t been something he¡¦d really considered until now, but after the Trial it seemed plausible. Maybe the death of the X-Men wouldn¡¦t include him because he would not be a member of the team at the time. He¡¦d never really bought into the idea that Xavier had been the traitor; it just didn¡¦t feel right. And if he was, who was to say that someone else wouldn¡¦t try and succeed in destroying the X-Men anyway? They had sure made enough enemies. The death of the X-Men. The possibility of the end of the dream had never seemed so possible, so close. And he knew the others felt it. They were doubting. And doubt leads to failure.

The eggs began sizzling behind him and Remy quickly turned, hurrying to flip the omelet before it burned. The spices speckled the yellow surface and their pungent smell filled his nose. Perfect. The food finished cooking and he slid it onto a plate conveniently waiting nearby. He set it on the counter and turned off the stove. Now what to drink? Behind him Remy heard Bobby starting to cough. Between gasps of air he managed to identify the cause of his troubles. ¡¦Hey Joseph... --cough-- ...you think you could have put another couple of tons of sugar in this thing? I don¡¦t think its ¡¦ag-- sweet enough yet.¡¦ So iced tea was definitely not an option.

Contemplating whether it was too early in the morning for a beer, Remy reached into the cabinet to get a glass. Behind him he heard a heavy footfalls entering the kitchen and then someone discretely clearing their throat. Remy turned in curiosity, holding a crystal clear glass in his hand. The shiny surface glinted in the light of the morning sun filtering in through the windows.

Near the entrance to the room stood Henry McCoy, an uncomfortable expression on his face. He reached up and nervously adjusted the glasses perched on his nose. ¡¦Umm... I have some news to share with you all.¡¦ He didn¡¦t continue for a moment, shifting uncomfortably as if trying to figure out exactly how to phrase his words. Remy¡¦s first instinct was that something had happened to one of the patients in the medlab and his grasp on the glass slowly tightened in anticipation.

¡¦Come on Blue, spill it already... Oh wait, I guess you¡¦re not exactly blue anymore... umm... Peach?¡¦ Henry shot Bobby an annoyed look at his poorly placed humor and then took a deep breath, preparing himself to speak.

¡¦Up until this point we haven¡¦t been able to determine why our powers suddenly disappeared.¡¦ He paused, as if to let his words sink in. ¡¦Well, it has been determined.¡¦

Five pairs of eyes focused on the doctor with steady intensity.

¡¦I was able to take a sample of Storm¡¦s blood and examine it under a microscope. After magnifying it an exceedingly great amount I was able to see a foreign element that was present, tiny objects, which I call nanoprobes, that were in the blood stream. And though I wasn¡¦t able to observe it directly, there was sufficient evidence to confirm that they have been manipulating our X-Factor genes. The other patients, Cecilia, and myself all have the same minute machines flowing through our bodies and it is presumable that the rest of you share them too.¡¦ He paused for a second as the X-Men exchanged horrified looks.

¡¦But the nanos were not unmarked. I do not know whether it is an appellation or a message, but an ominous picture of a diamond was etched in red on each of them.¡¦

Red diamonds. Red like blood. Diamonds etched in blood. The image drove a cold, tight clamp to enclose Remy¡¦s heart. And squeeze. Hard. Bitter emotions washed over him. Anger. Hate. Fear. Diamonds etched in blood. He¡¦d hoped never to hear that phrase again, had tried to escape it, though it always followed him into his worst nightmares. Diamonds etched in blood. The mark of Sinister. With a loud crash the glass slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor. He leaned back and grabbed the counter behind him with both hands for support, suddenly feeling very weak.

The shattered shards of glass skittered across the floor, sending eerie chiming sounds through the room. ¡¦Remy?¡¦ Hank questioned, concerned.

¡¦Y¡¦ sure it was red diamonds...?¡¦ The whisper was weak, disbelieving.

¡¦Yes, positive. I even had Dr. Reyes confirm it.¡¦ His brow crinkled in confusion. ¡¦Though I do not understand why that has such meaning to you.¡¦

¡¦Dat symbol is... Sinister¡¦s mark... his signature.¡¦

Hank¡¦s eyes widened slightly. ¡¦Are you sure?¡¦

¡¦Oui.¡¦

¡¦Remy, this is no joking matter. Are you absolutely positive?¡¦

¡¦Oui. Ain¡¦t a mistake. Dere only one man I know who would use dat symbol, and dat¡¦s Sinister.¡¦ Remy¡¦s voice sounded faint, and he was still leaning on the counter for support, though he seemed to be regaining his composure somewhat.

¡¦This is not good,¡¦ Hank commented quietly to himself, shaking his head gently. ¡¦My stars and garters, this is really not good.¡¦

¡¦Oui,¡¦ Remy agreed.

¡¦Wait a minute,¡¦ Bobby interjected. ¡¦You¡¦re telling me Sinister put these little machines inside of us? How in the world would he be able to do that without us knowing?¡¦ Nobody provided any answer and silence prevailed, but slowly, one by one, every pair of eyes settled on Rogue. She stared at the table shaking her head as if she were trying to convince herself that the implication of her guilt couldn¡¦t be true.

Gradually regaining his strength, Remy walked over to the table. Rogue sat on a chair at one corner and Remy settled on his haunches diagonal from her, along the side perpendicular to the one she sat at. They were almost eye level and he reached across the wood surface to lay his hand on top of her outstretched one, as much to support her as to prevent her from escaping. She flinched slightly, unaccustomed to the feeling of touch on her bare hands, but remained overall despondent. ¡¦Rogue,¡¦ he began quietly, ¡¦Y¡¦ gonna have ta tell me everyt¡¦ing dat happened wit¡¦ Sinister.¡¦

She didn¡¦t seem like she was going to respond, but finally she nodded and turned slowly to face him. The eyes that looked at him were brimmed with tears. ¡¦Ah wasn¡¦t really his captive until the last week. Before that ah went ta scheduled appointments willingly, thinkin¡¦ he was jus¡¦ a doctor who could help me. It wasn¡¦t until ah decided not ta have the treatment to rid me of my powers that he revealed himself ta me.¡¦ Though she was looking in Remy¡¦s general direction, her gaze was unfocused and far away, as if she were not really seeing him, but watching memories play across her mind instead.

¡¦Ah was unconscious most o¡¦ the time... an¡¦ for a good while mah powers were suppressed. Ah really don¡¦t know what he did ta me but... ah woke up once with black an¡¦ blues on my arm an tiny holes from some kinda injection... Ah¡¦m sorry... that¡¦s all ah remember.¡¦ She came back to herself and transferred her gaze to Hank, questioning him with her eyes.

Hank didn¡¦t answer for a moment, considering the information. ¡¦It may be possible that you brought the nanos to the mansion and they then spread like a virus. But that would indicate they are being controlled by some outside force. If you were the carrier it would be absurd to think that we were all infected at the same time, especially since we were all separated when we lost our powers. At the exact same time, I might add. We must have been infected individually and then all the probes were activated at once.¡¦ He rubbed his chin speculatively. ¡¦But there is no way to prove that.¡¦

¡¦Wait a minute,¡¦ Bobby protested. ¡¦Before we start blaming Rogue, how do we know Remy didn¡¦t bring those nano thingies here. He¡¦s had a history with Sinister.¡¦

¡¦Come on Bobby, y¡¦ ain¡¦t dat stupid. If I bought de nanos t¡¦ destroy de team, why would I infect m¡¦self too? An¡¦ why would I stick around to be discovered?¡¦ Sarcasm spilled off the words.

¡¦Maybe you weren¡¦t infected. Maybe it¡¦s just a deception.¡¦

¡¦An how do y¡¦ suppose I magically transformed m¡¦ eyes from red an¡¦ black to brown?¡¦

¡¦Contacts?¡¦

¡¦Now you¡¦re reaching.¡¦

Bobby accepted defeat with a slight tinge of red rising to his cheeks. Standing, Remy turned abruptly to face Henry. ¡¦C¡¦n we use Cerebro t¡¦ find Sinister.¡¦

¡¦We might be able to. But Cerebro isn¡¦t fully operational yet. Its systems were wiped when Zero Tolerance procured it and we have not been able to fully reprogram it yet. We will only have limited power. Sinister will only be detectable if he is located in a finite vicinity.¡¦

¡¦It¡¦s worth a try,¡¦ Betsy commented.

There were a few utterances of agreement, a few nods. It seemed that their next course of action was sure.

And then everything changed.

Remy¡¦s eyes squeezed shut against the stars that burst in front of them, against the burning feeling that consumed them. He could suddenly feel every movement in the room. All around there was chaos, and in front of him he could actually feel Hank changing size and growing larger. Remy¡¦s own bone structure was changing, his metabolism speeding up, his cells overflowing with energy. He was morphing on the molecular level. And it hurt. Really badly. He couldn¡¦t help falling to the ground and groaning in agony. He could feel the fear and horror of the X-Men around them and the pain of those whose transformations were as unpleasant as his own.

So this is what it felt like to suddenly become a mutant all at once.

Ouch. It wasn¡¦t an enjoyable experience.

Eventually the pain subsided enough for Remy to think straight. He knelt on the ground, forehead resting against he edge of the table and arms wrapped protectively around himself. He opened one eye carefully. When it seemed safe enough the other followed the action of its pair. Lifting his head, Remy glanced around the room, blinking several times. He¡¦d become accustomed to having normal eyes, and now, with his mutant ones back and collecting their usual excess amount of light, the world seemed so much duller, a pastel quality tinting everything he saw. There was also the strange aura produced by the frequencies of light to either side of visible light in the electromagnetic spectrum. Light which his eyes were able to detect. He was able to see portions of the ultraviolet and infrared range while normal people couldn¡¦t observe anything beyond the visible spectrum, but normally his brain filtered it out unless he needed it. The process was similar to what the brain does to get rid of background noise. The ears hear it though the person is not aware of it. But his mind was still adjusting to having his strange sight back, and until it did he would just have to deal with inconvenience of seeing more than he was used to.

¡¦Umm... power check?¡¦ Drake asked from the other side of the room where he was hurriedly stripping off layers of sweaters.

¡¦I have mine back,¡¦ commented Betsy distantly.

¡¦Same here,¡¦ added Rogue.

¡¦As do I,¡¦ Joseph confirmed.

¡¦Got mine... definitely got mine,¡¦ Remy croaked as he slowly stood.

¡¦And obviously I am once again the bouncing, blue Beast.¡¦ Henry gestured at the new, bright coat of fur that had grown over his massive body. Clothes hung off in rags, having been torn as the doctor regained his mutant mass, but luckily the boxers remained in tact, presumably having been oversized to begin with.

¡¦Okay, so we got our powers back, anybody know how?¡¦ Rogue questioned. There was no answer. ¡¦Didn¡¦t think so,¡¦ she said after a moment.

¡¦I think our best course of action would be to continue with our earlier plans to find Sinister, before we loose our powers again,¡¦ Joseph suggested.

¡¦Then you will have to manage by yourselves, I¡¦m going back to the medlab,¡¦ Beast said, ¡¦I am no doubt needed there.¡¦ With that he hurried out of the room.

The other X-Men exchanged looks for a few moments before Remy broke the uncertainty. ¡¦Well what¡¦re we waitin¡¦ f¡¦r? We c¡¦n manage t¡¦ work Cerebro wit¡¦out Henry¡¦¡¦

¡¦Oh no...¡¦ gasped Betsy, her eyes wide and unfocussed. One hand was pressed to her head in the manner shared by telepaths when using their powers, and the other was pressed over her open mouth.

Everybody was staring at her now, anxious looks on their faces as they saw how distraught she was. ¡¦Betsy, what is it?¡¦ asked Rogue uncertainly.

¡¦The Shadow King...¡¦ she whispered in a barely audible voice. ¡¦He¡¦s free.¡¦

Nobody moved for a long stretch of seconds, paralysis having found its was into their bodies at the words. They had known that Betsy¡¦s telepathy was holding the Shadow King prisoner on the psionic plane. When her powers had been lost it only made sense that he would be freed...

Softly, Remy cleared his throat, waiting until he had everyone¡¦s attention. ¡¦We can¡¦ do anyt¡¦ing ¡¦bout that now. De Shadow King c¡¦n be dealt wit¡¦ after we find Sinister... which we still have t¡¦ do by de way...¡¦

The comment was enough impetus to get the X-Men moving and within seconds the kitchen was deserted. Half-eaten plates of eggs littered the table along with their accompanying drinks. Remy¡¦s omelet occupied the counter, alone and forgotten and now cold. On the floor pieces of the broken glass sparkled, neglected. Where the cup¡¦s once clear and perfect exterior had shone beautifully, clean glass reflecting light gloriously, possibly reminding one¡¦if the light was just right¡¦of a dream castle made of crystal, there was only sharp tiny pieces, shards of the former object offensively littering the floor.

But then glass¡¦and dreams¡¦always were so fragile and easy to shatter.

Part 9

The fireplace burned brightly, frantically vibrating molecules creating blazing beauty. A blue cone dwelled in the encasement of red and yellow, its superior temperature held suspended within the lesser¡¦s grasp. Cinders littered the stone fireplace floor, telling of previous holocausts raging across tortured logs. The remainder of a newspaper that had somehow managed to escape the flame¡¦s fury lay perilously out of harm¡¦s way. It was an article about a professional gambler who had lost everything in an all or nothing bet at a local casino. The man had gone from riches to rags in seconds. A tendril of fire reached out and licked its consuming touch across the thin paper, transforming the black words into indecipherable ashes.

The light from the fire flickered through the room, casting eerie shadows across the walls and floor. The ground was clothed in a lush, midnight blue rug that contrasted nicely with the off-white walls. There was a large, extravagant bed along one side of the room, its crimson comforter neatly laid over the comfortable padding. Exquisite, matching, hardwood dresser, desk and nightstand filled the expansive space¡¦all empty of course. For the man who dwelled in this place had as little need for them as he did for the bed. He simply kept them because he found them oddly... comforting... almost homey. There was a feeling of relaxation, familiarity, and privacy that they helped enhance in the room. It reminded him of his... humanity?

Speaking of the room¡¦s owner, he stood along the one wall of the space that didn¡¦t fit with the opulent scene. Rug, paint and furniture abruptly ended, replaced by a bastion of computers, their unfriendly polished metal surfaces a cancer to the magnificence of the chamber. There the man could be found, his stark skin taking on a frightening effect as the fire cast strange shadows upon it. His glowing red eyes stared intently on the screen in front of him.

And he smiled.

The tiny machines he had dubbed ¡¦nano-controllers¡¦ were working perfectly. According to his readings, the X-Men¡¦s mutant abilities had been allowed to manifest themselves exactly as he¡¦d commanded. It was amazing to watch the change in their bodies as they transformed back into Homo Sapien Superior. It was absolutely fascinating. He typed hurriedly, calling up new screens of data on the computers built into the wall. Hungrily he read the information, face taking on a look that might be compared to a child¡¦s expression of wonder were it not for its frightening appearance. Completely absorbed in his work, the room around him faded away into oblivion. This was what he lived for. The knowledge and discoveries scrolling across the display were like a drug to him.

Of course, it would be much nicer to observe the changes in the X-Men in person rather than from a list of readings transmitted by his nano-controllers, but that would be possible soon enough. They would come to him eventually. He¡¦d left enough clues, inconspicuous enough to force the X-Men to work a bit to find and decipher them. It might take a while, but he could wait. Such was the price to pay for not allowing them to get suspicious of overly obvious indications of his involvement.

They would come, perhaps sooner rather than later with recent developments. Sinister had left his signature, his marking of a diamond traced in red on his nano-controllers, not expecting the X-Men to know what it meant, but figuring they¡¦d work the connections back to him eventually. He hadn¡¦t planned for Remy LeBeau to be there with them. The last he¡¦d known the young mutant had been banned from the team. Surely Gambit would easily identify the tiny machines as his handy work. Maybe too easily. Maybe easily enough to allow the X-Men to perceive that a trap might be involved. No matter. The price was worth paying for having a mutant like Gambit in his grasp. That price and much more was worth paying for such a genetic gold mine.

Sinister smiled again and rubbed his hands together in anticipation. All his excruciatingly careful planning was paying off. Even now the X-Men were probably searching for him with the Cerebro unit he had allowed and helped them to retrieve from government hands, tracking a signal that he¡¦d created to fool them into thinking they¡¦d found him. It had been useful before in leading them to Rogue without endangering himself. While he had been miles away they¡¦d invaded one of his bases, no doubt believing that he was somewhere within it. Or perhaps believing that they were walking into a trap since normally their Cerebro could not detect him. It didn¡¦t matter which, simply that he had been successful.

But now Mr. Sinister was leading the X-Men directly to his real location. Now he was ready to claim his prize. What wonderful test subjects they would all make. It was unfortunate that he wouldn¡¦t be able to get his grasp on the Summers¡¦ too, but Gambit compensated for that. Such extensive power would be interesting to study.

Sinister finished examining the last of the information on the computer screen.

Now all he had to do was wait.

Turning abruptly, he surveyed the room. Along one wall there was a standing bookcase filled with books whose tattered covers looked old and worn. He walked over to it, the spandex conforming comfortably to his movements. The costume was rarely taken off, except for bathing. There was no need to change when it was perfectly suitable to his needs. Unless he was in disguise, it was his sole clothing.

Reaching the bookcase he ran his hands over the tattered books, fingers gently grazing the covers. Humans could be so primitive... but then sometimes, a choice few geniuses could create such beautiful works of literature. Genetic research was his passion, his true love, but the books... they were his companions. He lived a lonely life, with no equal to share his discoveries with, having no time to forge a relationship even if such an equal existed, but his reading allowed him to endure his solitude. Usually science created beauty and humans destroyed it, it was rare for any member of mankind to make something worth his attention.

But sometimes they did. And he was thankful for those occasions. A tiny smile spread across his lips as he chose a book. Pulling it out of its alphabetical position, he walked over to the bed and sat gently on its edge. The luxurious mattress sunk beneath him, and at first he stiffened at the unusual comfort of it, but eventually relaxed, though not quite enough to lay backward across the soft surface. The words ¡¦Les Miserables¡¦ were printed across the book¡¦s front in gold letters. Opening it carefully in his lap, he began to read.

The words provided a strange sort of solace, as well as a means to occupy his mind as he waited for more information to be transmitted by the nano-controllers. Soon his plans would fully converge into success.

Soon. He could wait.

Sinister was a very patient man.

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