SHARED MEMORIES

This story is by Morgan Lewis, mcaus@vicksburg.com. All characters are property of Marvel and are being reproduced here as a work of not-for-profit fan-fiction.

Remy Lebeau gazed absently into the swirling amber liquid in the glass. He had already lost count of how many he had downed so far tonight but saw no reason to let that stop him from continuing his attempts to completely inebriate himself. Remy still found it somewhat irritating that no matter how drunk he was, a small portion of his brain remained somewhat clear. It must have been some sort of empathic detox safeguard. It didn't seem to help to much with the hangovers however. If anything, it intensified them.

Remy drained the last contents of the glass and rose from his stool. Another couple of drinks wasn't going to drown out the pain and there was no sense fooling himself into thinking it could. Tossing on his overcoat, the cajun slowly began to walk towards the door.

"Hey red!" The sound of the barman's voice grated on his nerves. "You haven't paid up yet."

"Put it on my tab." Remy's voice sounded decidedly unsteady to his own ears.

"Sorry pal, no can do. Your tab is over the limit already."

Remy sighed. It seems that life would not even allow him the dignity of licking his wounds in peace. He slowly turned to face the barman and allowed a small trickle of his charm wash over him. "No worries mon ami. I be payin' up soon."

The barman's eyes seemed to glaze slightly and his head nodded absently. Remy grunted in disgust at his own petty tactics. He had conned men out of fortunes and now he was reduced to playing working stiffs for a few lousy drinks. Fate seemed to take great delight in tormenting him as of late.

As the x-man stumbled out the front entrance of the bar he reflected that some would think that he had received exactly what he had deserved out of life. He had broken countless hearts and viewed them as trophies in his collection of conquests. At first Rogue was just supposed to be another such trophy, but something had changed. Remy shook his head ruefully. He had changed and had tried to deny it. He had managed to deny it right up until the moment when that crystalization wave was about to hit. In that moment he and Rogue had kissed. And while Rogue had initiated the kiss, it never once occurred to Remy to end it. Somehow he had ceased to care about the fact that she would learn all of his dark secrets, every skeleton that he had kept carefully buried. He no longer had wanted any secrets to exist between them. He had thought that her finding out all of his secrets would be the worse thing that could happen. He had been wrong.

Somehow those damn empathic powers of his that he had never really wanted and never learned to control got in the way again. They had instinctively shielded some of his darker memories from Rogue's mind. She had absorbed the memories but couldn't access them or understand them. So while she hadn't learned the cold hard truth she had learned enough to stop trusting him. She could sense his darkness but it was still unknown and that had terrified her more than anything else.

He had thought he had reached the absolute bottom when Rogue had left him in Seattle. Once again, he had been wrong. When Rogue had returned with Magneto, or Joseph as he liked to be called now, Remy's heart had nearly torn itself in half with grief. It was ironic in a way, Magneto hadn't even wanted it and he had received redemption from the sins of his past. He had killed millions yet Rogue trusted him more than she would ever trust him. Remy hungered for the redemption that Magneto had so carelessly achieved more than anything in his life. There would be no forgiveness for him. Sinister had seen to that.

Gambit stopped to lean against the side of his bike for a moment while a wave of dizziness swept over him. As the dizziness passed a dull ache began to replace it in the back of his head. Remy was sure that this wasn't a part of his hangover, it felt wrong. He had been experiencing these bouts of dizziness and pain ever since returning to the mansion from New York. He had ignored it at first, but the spells had been increasing in regularity. The ache began to fade slowly. Remy made an attempt at shaking off the lingering effects of the alcohol he had consumed before climbing onto his bike. Kicking it to a start, he road off in the direction of the mansion to sleep the drinks off.

Jean paused outside the professor's study. She had been avoiding this moment ever since the x-men had returned from fighting Onslaught. She had begun to dread it after Val Cooper had arrived to take the professor into protective custody. It was here in this study that Xavier had suffered a total breakdown of his mental capacities. It was in this room that Onslaught had, in effect, been birthed. Even without probing the interior of the room, she could feel the amount of damage done to the astral plane within this room. Any telepath for miles around would be affected by the energies radiating from this room. Something would have to be done and she had but it off long enough.

Slowly she allowed her mind to examine the damaged portion of the astral plane. She didn't actually enter, just scanned it from a distance. Even so, she recoiled slightly at what she saw. The damage was worse and better than what she had been expecting. Fortunately, all the damaged centered around one tear in the fabric of the astral plane. The bad part was that the tear was widening slowly. Her procrastination had only made the inevitable worse. Still, it would be possible for her to repair the damage and once the tear had been mended the disruptions should subside.

Jean frowned as she studied the astral plane. The job would be difficult and potentially dangerous yet seemed fairly routine. She would need another empath to act as an anchor. Once inside the damaged area she would need the backup empath to act as a safety rope in case she was caught in a psychic backlash.

Jean walked over to on o the terminals linked to Cerebro that was still intact. "Cerebro, locate Betsy Braddock."

DESIGNATE BRADDOCK, BETSY IS NOT CURRENTLY ON THE GROUNDS, the terminal spoke softly.

Jean cursed under her breath. She had forgotten that Betsy had left with Warren earlier that day. Nathan had also left with X-force on a mission that had something to do with Shatterstar. Emma Frost was with Generation X and would be unable to reach the mansion quickly. She wouldn't be able to do anything about the damage until tomorrow unless she wanted to take the risk of going in without a safety line. By that time there was no telling how much damage could be done. It could take years, maybe even decades for the astral plane to heal itself.

Jean's mouth was suddenly very dry. She licked her parched lips and decided that she could spare a few seconds to go to the kitchen for a glass of water. Maybe a solution would present itself to her. Once again Jean backed away from the huge imposing door to the professor's study.

Remy heaved a sigh of relief as he finally pulled his bike into the remains of the mansion's garage. Though not as drunk as he would like he was nowhere near sober enough to attempt to drive. He was lucky that he had survived the trip home, or considering the hangover he was facing tomorrow, not so lucky. The cajun stumbled gracelessly through the front lawn of the mansion. Out of the corner of his eye, he managed to spot Bishop, out on his nightly patrol. Inwardly Gambit groaned. Ever since the traitor business had been resolved between the two of them, Bishop had made several clumsy attempts at apology. Gambit had tried to be good-natured about the whole thing but Bishop's pathetic attempts at friendship ranckled him. It was if the man expected him to just forget several attempts on his life and a good deal of slander to his character and start treating him as a chum. Gambit shook his head. It wasn't that easy. Besides, there was still the fact that no matter who the traitor had been Bishop still didn't like Remy. And it was a hatred that went far beyond him betraying the x-men.

All factors considered, Remy really had no interest in exchanging meaningless pleasantries with a man who probably still wanted him dead. Bishop had spotted him, but before the man could begin to move towards Gambit, the cajun slipped into a side entrance and quickly moved down the hall. Since the former member of the XSE no longer had any professional interests in Gambit's nocturnal activities, he should be willing to let him come and go without the customary interagation. Gambit could sense Bishop follow him for a few moments, then hesitate and suddenly lose interest. That suited Remy just fine. He wasn't in the mood for another one of Bishop's fake friend sessions.

The cajun's head was already beginning to clear as he made his was toward the stairs that lead to the upstairs rooms. That wasn't good. Soon his headaches would be returning. However, he did recall a sixpack still remained in the fridge from one of his drinking binges about two weeks ago. It was probalbly one of the only things in the entire fridge, as the X-men really hadn't had time to go grocery shopping in a while. It wasn't much, but right now it was all that Remy had.

He slowly made his way to the kitchen. His brain was sobering up fast and that otherwhise he probably wouldn't have sensed someone in the kitchen before he opened the door. Gambit stopped for a second and tried to allow his sense of spatial awareness make out who it was. It was a female, gracefull, determined stride, probably Ororo or Jean. Remy sighed. He doubted that his increase in alcohol comsumption had gone unnoticed by either of the women. Either one would have a lengthy speech prepared on how drowning his problems in beer didn't make them go away.

Gambit considered just forgetting about the beer and calling it a night. At that moment however a wave of nausea and pain chose to hit him. Screw the stupid lecture, he was going to get that six pack even if Onslaught was standing between him and the fridge. However, he might be able to make it easier on himself if he tried to use a little tact. His charm powers had always served him well when he had been trying to get the attention of a women. Who knows. Maybe they could also help him escape the notice of a woman. Gambit grinned. It sounded just crazy enough for him to try.

Jean was deep in thought as she wandered around the kitchen. She could sense Scott through her telepathic bond. He was worried, mainly because she was worried and he could sense it. The result was a telepathic feedback that had them both worrying about the other. Jean shook her head. After all this time together you would think that they had developed some level of security. Recent events had managed to set every one on edge though. So, maybe they weren't being quite as overprotective of each other as she thought. She loved Scott with all of her heart yet found his protective instincts a trifle irritating at times.

The problem remained of what she was going to do about the damage that Onslaught had caused. It would be foolish to attempt anything without taking any kind of safety precaution, but she was rapidly running out of options. She heard the swish of the door opening and turned to she who had entered the kitchen when the sight of the wall clock caught her attention. It read 2:00 am. Another eight hours until Betsy would return. Jean did some quick calculations in her head and determined that by that time the tear would have expanded by thirty percent. An chill ran down Jean's spine. If she waited too much longer, she might be unable to handle the tear on her own.

The sound of the fridge opening once again shook her from her reverie. Jean's stomach vocally reminded her that she hadn't eaten in far to long. There wasn't really anything in the frigde to eat anyway. No one on the team had taken the time to shop for groceries in over a week. If memory served her, there was still a few leftover slices of a roast that Beast had prepared not to long ago. It wasn't much, but it was better that going hungry.

As she turned to the fridge, she was surprised to see Gambit rumaging through its contents. She hadn't heard him come in. Or had she. She couldn't remember and it didn't really seem to matter anyway. Jean turned back to look at the clock and tried to regain her last train of thought. She had been thinking about how long she could afford to wait before she attempted to correct the damage by herself. Jean's stomach rumbled again. Her mind froze for a second. Hadn't she intended to grab a few slices of roast out of the fridge. Jean rubbed her forehead for a moment. Something must have distracted her. Once again Jean began to make her way across the kitchen and stopped when a dripping facet caught her attention. It always annoyed her when someone didn't bother to expend the necessary effort to fully turn the valve off. Jean began to walk towards the facet and finished turning it off.

Now, where had she been. Ah yes. Onslaught. No wait. She had been thinking of making herself a sandwich. Jean shook her head in confusion. What was going on. She had never had trouble keeping her thoughts coherant before. Suddenly it hit her. There was a low level empathic wave eminating from somewhere in the room. It had been done very subtly but she could recognize if she concentrated. Jean glanced over at the fridge and nearly gasped in shock. The wave was coming from Gambit.

That scoundrel, Jean thought. He never let anyone know that he had any powers beyond his kinetic charge ability. It made sense in a way. Jean suddenly remembered a story that Storm had told her of their first meeting. Gambit had literally talk the Shadow Kings hounds to distraction. They had all been fools. How could they not have seen what was right in front of them. All this time Gambit had managed to hide the fact that he was a low level empath.

A sudden thought struck her. While Gambit's abilities where not even on the same level of Betsy's, he could still provide invaluable assistance in cleaning up the Onslaught mess.

"Gambit?" Jean watched as his shoulders tensed momentarily then slumped. The empathic wave he had been broadcasting immediately subsided.

"Yea chere." Gambit stood up holding a six pack of beer in one hand. His eyes seemed to be challenging her to say something. It suddenly hit Jean. He had been broadcasting that empathic wave to escape her notice while he grabbed a few beers. His increased drinking had not gone unnoticed since his relationship problems with Rogue had developed. He had obviously just wanted to grab a few beers without having to endure a verbal reprimand. Jean shook her head ruefully. No matter how many surprises the cajun had up his sleeves, there seemed to be a strange supplies of simplistic motives to the man as well.

"I need you to put that away for now." Jean indicated the six pack. "I am going to need you as sober as possible. I need your help."

Gambit's face went from defiant to suspicious to curious to unreadable in five seconds flat. When he put on that poker face he seemed to unconsciously set up some mental barriers as well, so even she couldn't tell what he was thinking. Ever so slowly, he placed the six pack back in the fridge. "What ya got in mind chere."

"First have a seat please." Gambit hesitated for a few moments then complied. She was going to have to be careful in handling this situation. The cajun had never openly admitted to being a telepath so she would first have to have to convince him to confide in her. No easy task.

"Ever since our return from New York certain members of the team have been experiencing mild health problems." She choose to omit the fact that those members where all known telepaths. "Disorientation,headaches, ect."

Gambit's features went suddenly cold. "Ya mean de stuff dat happens when a body drinks to much heh."

Jean silently cursed herself for not being more specific. "Gambit, I have no intention of addressing your drinking. You are a mature adult and more than capable of governing yourself. The health problems I was addressing are of a more serious nature. The disorientation is not of the variety symptomatic with alcohol consumption. This is quite serious so I need to know if you have been suffering any of these symptom."

Gambit still appeared wary but finally nodded. "Yea chere, I been gettin some a dos headaches."

Jean sighed in relief. That was the hardest part. "Well, I suppose that I should let you know that these symptoms are a result of our close proximity to the section of the astral plane that Onslaught damaged during his arrival. Any telepath within ten miles would likely be suffering these symptoms."

Gambit's eyes seem to glitter for an instant. He knew that he had been trapped. That didn't stop him from trying to back out however. "Mus be mistaken den chere. Just a normal hangover all I be sufferin from."

Jean found herself wanting to believe him and almost accepted his explanation. That if anything acted to further confirm her suspicions. "There is no need for that Gambit. I can't even begin to fathom why you felt it was necessary to hide this aspect of you powers from us but if you wish, I shall hold you confidences. However, right now I require the assistance of a telepath and by default, you are my first choice."

Gambit met her eyes with his black and red ones for an instant before his shoulders finally slumped. "What you be wantin me to do."

"The procedure is actually quite routine." Jean suppressed a sigh of relief. He had agreed to help more easily than she had expected. "I need to repair the tear in the astral plane. Since I have waited this long to address the problem ,however, a psionic maelstrom has developed around the focus of the damage. I will have to navigate my way through the maelstrom in order to repair the damage." Jean didn't manage to suppress her second sigh, one of frustration. "If I had simply addressed the problem earlier none of this would have been necessary. What I need from you is to provide a telepathic safety line." Gambit's eyebrow raised at that. "We will link telepathicly to create the line. You will then remain here as my mind ventures into the psionic maelstrom. Your task with be primarily passive. Simply wait and provide an anchor. In the event that I become caught in the maelstrom I can then use our line to pull myself out."

Gambit was silent for several moments as he considered her proposal. For a moment she thought that he might be concerned about the danger involved and was about to asure him of the safety of the procedure when he spoke. "If we do dis mindlink ting..how many a my memories ya goin see."

Jean blinked. That concern had not even entered into her mind. She tried to answer as truthfully as possible, however. "I couldn't say for certain Gambit. Naturally in a linking such as this there is going to be some exchange of memory. More than likely recent events and other memories close to the surface, as well as our emotions and perceptions regarding those memories, will be exchanged." Jean shrugged. Other than that, I really couldn't say what else we would exchange. The process is different from person to person."

Gambit stood and began to pace the kitchen. She could see clearly that he was weighing the urgency of her request against some unknown factors. What could he be hiding that he felt that he couldn't share with any of them. Jean had just been convinced that he was going to refuse when the acadian suddenly stopped and turned towards her. "All right den. Jus don go to deep if ya can help it." Gambit seemed to be making a habit out of surprising her.

"First sit down please." Gambit complied and sat down across the counter from her. Jean slowly reached out and took Gambit's hands in her own. "Now, you are going to have to let me into your mind. That means dropping those mental barriers that you are always careful to maintain." She looked him directly in the eye. "It means that you are going to have to trust me."

Gambit shrugged uncomfortably for a few moments before finally replying, "I trus ya chere."

Jean closed her eyes and slowly reached out to the cajun's mind. She immediately came against his mental barriers. The effect was somewhat like running into a brick wall. She pressed at the walls for a minute and when they didn't give any called out to him. *Gambit, I thought that you were going to trust men.*

*I'm tryin chere, I'm tryin.* Came the frustrated response. *I ain't zactly all dat experienced at dis.* Jean felt the walls retreat ever so slowly. Finally, after what seemed an eternity of waiting, a small opening revealed itself in the mental barrier. Jean entered his mind slowly and was overwhelmed by the sense of loss, pain regret and guilt she found there. No wonder the man was trying to drink himself to death. Anything was better than these raw painful emotions. She felt his love for Rogue and was surprised by the depth of it. Jean clearly felt the anguish that Rogue's departure had produced in him. An anguish that paled when compared to the grief that her returning with Magneto had caused.

Jean sorted trough all of these emotions quickly and continued on into the core of Gambit's psyche. On this plane Gambit's psyche manifest itself as an image of him curled into a tight ball. He seemed to be hugging something tightly to his chest. She couldn't see what it was he was holding, which made her wonder if he was holding something dear to him or merely trying to hide something.

In her mental form Jean slowly approached him. Carefully, she held out her hand. *Gambit, you have to give me your hand.*

*I don thin I can do dis.* Gambits panic stricken thought came back.

*Yes you can. Just give me your hand and trust me.* Jean tried to keep her thoughts soothing and hide a trace of irritation at his stalling.

After a moment Gambit slowly unwrapped himself from what ever it was he had been protecting and slowly reached out to take her hand. Somehow, he still managed to keep his body between her and what it was that he had been protecting. Even now he was trying to protect himself.

As there hands made contact the link was established and Gambit's memories of the past few weeks flowed into her head, as her memories where now flowing into his. Images of Onslaught, Rogue, Magneto, the Avengers, and others flashed through her mind as seen by the eyes of another. What shocked her most was a single stray thought that was linked to his memories of Onslaught. *Maybe it be better if Bishop had been right about me bein the traitor.*

The rush of memories finally began to subside. She could still feel his every emotion, but Gambit's thoughts had calmed somewhat now that he was getting use to the link. *All right, we're linked now. Now remember, just stay here and try to remain as calm as possible. Any emotion you feel is going to feed through over the link and distractions could e detrimental.*

Gambit seemed to give some sort of a mental no at her instructions. He was still nervous though. She couldn't blame him. Her first time to link minds with someone had left her in a quivering ball of tears. She had been much younger though and much more prone to letting her emotions show. From what she had just learned about Gambit, he was the kind of person to keep a nonchalant air about him even while his heart was ripping itself into pieces. For a brief instant Jean was almost tempted to use the link to find out a little more about this man who had remained an enigma to them for so long. It was only for a instant though. For this one brief moment, he was placing some trust in her and she could not bring herself to betray that trust.

Jean slowly drew her mind out of her body and onto the astral plane. Here, anything was possible with a thought. Even this far from the source of the damage, she could feel the effect of the psionic storm. Jean carefully made her way towards the source of the psionic backlashes. She nearly gasped in shock when confronted face to face with the results of Onslaught's rampage. She suddenly felt so alone. *Oh professor, how could you have let this happen, how.* The storm presented her no answers. Drawing on the reserves of her strength and courage, Jean plunged into the heart of the maelstrom.

The world twisted and heaved around her. Jean desperately fought to gain a semblance of control. It was like trying to safely guide a canoe through raging rapids and she the lone sailor. Currents and under currents pulled at her, trying to push her this way and that. Through it all she managed to hold on. Slowly, Jean pressed forward. The currents still pulled at her but she was able to continue her way forward. The going was slow and frustrating. Jean tried to push forward harder and move along faster. Her progress sped up only marginally. Her attention was momentarily lapsed as she concentrated on increasing her speed. But in the astral plane, a moment is all it takes. An undercurrent of psionic energy that she had misjudged as a result of her haste suddenly crashed into Jean. She felt herself being thrown about wildly and desperately tried to regain her balance. The more she fought though, the more disoriented she became. For a moment panic surged in her mind. Then, camly, reassuringly, she drew on the psionic link between her and Gambit. Jean tried to send calming thoughts to the Cajun who had by now sensed her stress. Jean drew on the line a little harder as she tried to reorient herself. Suddenly, she felt the link slip marginally. Panic surged in her anew. *Gambit,* she thought desperately, *you must hold on.* There was no response, but the link continued to falter as if it was about to come undone and panic and fear surged from Gambit. Jean felt a moment of despair. He hadn't been ready for this. She had pushed him into using his telepathic powers on a level that he had not yet achieved. And now, she was paying for it.

Gambit fought down a growing sense of dread as he felt the psionic link slip farther and farther away from him. He had sensed when Jean had first become entangled in one of the undercurrents. She had only been concerned for a brief instant before she began to draw on their link and reassure him. Now as the link slipped farther and farther from his control he could feel a growing sensation of dread from her.

Remy was afraid. He had lost Rogue and now Jean was going to be lost because of his mistakes. How would he be able to face Scott, indeed, how would he be able to face anyone knowing that his failings had cost them Jean's life.

*No!!!!!* Remy thought furiously. He was not going to lose Jean. Desperately, hardly knowing what he was doing, the Cajun tried to strengthen his hold on the link. He didn't even notice his hands reflexively gripping Jeans even harder. It wasn't working. It felt almost like he was playing tug-a-war with a tractor in reverse that was inevitably pulling the line from his hands.

Remy was desperate. He was running out of options. His head didn't know what to do. But somehow, his heart did.

Jean was slowly giving into despair. She could feel Gambit on the other of the link pulling for all he was worth. It wasn't working though. She was slowly being drawn into oblivion. Suddenly she felt something new travel along the length of the link. As it passed it seemed to strengthen the link until it reached her. Cautiously, Jean drew on the link. To her relief it held firm. She drew on the link harder, yet it still supported her. What ever Gambit was doing, she hoped that he could keep it up. Inch by agonizing inch she pulled herself along the link until she had finally cleared the psionis storm.

*You okay chere.* The thought from Gambit was full of concern.

*Yes, I just got in a hurry and misjudged some of the currents. That's all. I'll be more careful this time.*

*This time. Ya' mean ta' say ya' goin' back.* The Cajun's thoughts sounded incredulous.

*I have to. The damage hasn't been repaired yet.*

*Mebbe' ya' better wait for someone a little better at dis. I ain't zactly.*

*Gambit there is no time to wait. I will go back in alone if needs be, but the damage must be repaired.*

Gambit’s mind whirled with thoughts for a minute before he finally replied. *All right chere. We try again.*

Jean suppressed a sudden surge of relief. She really wasn't sure if she could have forced herself to venture into the maelstrom unaided now. She slowly approach the storm and entered into it once again. Jean set a steady slow pace and stuck with it. As a result, this time she was able to make it through the storm without incident.

As she entered the core of the damage she was overcome by the calmness of the area whil the storm raged around her. She immediately spotted the damage. A large gaping hole in the fabric of the astral plane. At this range she was easily able to clear all the backed up psionic energy from the tear, like cleaning the infection out of a wound. After the tear was clean, she pulled the two ends of the rip together and sealed them in place with a telepathic patch. The patch would dissipate with time, but by then the astral plane would have already healed itself.

Jean released a pentup sigh of relief. The job was finally done. Around her she could already feel the effects as the turmoil slowly began to subside. In a few minutes it would seem as if there had never been anything wrong. Only when Jean had seen that the storm was going to fully disperse did she allow herself to return to her body.

Jean opened her eyes to see Gambit staring at her in concern. "You fix de problem chere." It was not a question.

Jean nodded her head. "Thank you for you help." Jean looked down at her hands which were still tightly clutched in his. "Gambit, you can let go now."

"Oh. Sure t’ing." Gambit looked fairly out of countenance as he released her hands and let the telepathic link drop. Jean noticed that her hands were slightly bruised as a result of his tightly grip. "Sorry bout dat." Gambit said sheepishly upon noticing the marks.

"I suppose I can consider myself lucky that these are the only marks I bear after the risk I took." She smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry about it."

"Well," the Cajun spoke as he was rising, "if dat be all de adventure we gonna have for one night, I be turnin' in now."

Jean watched him leave with a sort of detached bemusement. There was so much about this man that remained a mystery. Jean rose from her own seat and felt the stiffness of her muscles. She glance over at the clock which now read 4:12am. Jean was about to return to bed and Scott when she suddenly realized that she could still feel a piece of her and Gambit's link floating around in her head. Actually a fragment would have been more accurate to describe it since they had already dropped the main link. Jean studied it carefully for a moment then smiled in understanding. When Gambit had felt their link giving away he had fortified it the only way he knew how. With a collection of his most cherished memories. The kind of memories that a person holds on to with all of their strength because they represent moments I their life that can never be duplicated. Somehow Gambit had figured out that if the memories were transported along the link, that the strength with which he held to those memories would be transfered to the strength by which he held the link.

Jean shook her head. Gambit was just full of surprises. Jean considered the memories and hesitated only a moment before opening them to take a look. It was not as if she were violating the Cajun's trust. After all, he had freely given these memories. There three main memories. The first was, unsurprisingly of Rogue. It was a memory of their first date. The day before that fateful final confrontation with Magneto. The two of them were riding in the carriage that Gambit had summoned. Rogue was leaning against his chest and he was breathing in the scent of her hair. It didn’t matter that they couldn’t touch, they were content. And Remy was experiencing an odd sort of peace that he had never before felt.

The second memory was of a few years earlier. It was the training session in the danger room where the x-men had divided into two teams in an effort to reach and tag the professor. Jean had remembered Gambit making a total fool out of himself when he was tricked by robot replicas of the professor and Jean. Gambit however, remembered going into that room knowing full well that they were robots but that Wolverine needed a suitable distraction to get in and tag the professor. He felt the thrill of playing the audience and fooling them completely. But more importantly, was the feeling of comradeship with his fellow x-men. It was a feeling that he had not experience in a long time.

Jean had fully expected the last memory to be of Belladonna or at least the Thieves Guild. She was thus surprised to find the faded image of a small park bench. The trees in the park were bare as if in the dead of winter, yet a distinct flock of birds flew overhead. Though faded the image practically radiated pain, sorrow, and loss. Jean was confused. Why would anyone cling to and cherish a memory this painful. She looked at the park bench. On it sat a women, her face obscured and faded beyond being able to make out. On her lap rested the head of a small boy that was three, may four years old. The women was gently stroking the boy's hair and singing softly to him. The little boy was sleepy but didn't want to go to sleep quite yet. Somehow the boy new that if he went to sleep, when he woke the woman would be gone and he would be alone. Jean stifled a sudden sob as she realized why Gambit would cling to a memory this painful so strongly. The woman was his mother. Not the adopted mother of the guilds but his actual mother. It was in all probability the only memory of his real parents that he had. Naturally he would cling to it with all of his might.

"Jean, are you okay." Jean looked up to see Scott as he entered the room. He must have been feeling her sorrow and loss through their telepathic bond. Gambit's sorrow and loss, she corrected herself as she slowly put the memories away.

She wiped away a tear that head trickled down her cheek. "I'm fine Scott. Just a little surprised by how little I know some of our teammates." She looked at Scott and smiled. "Go back to bed, I'll join you in a few minutes."

Scott eyed her dubiously but ducked his head to give her a quick kiss before he left for his bed. That was one thing she had always loved about Scott. He had an instinctive knowledge of when to let people alone with their thoughts. Jean looked over the memories she had received from Gambit one final time before storing them in one of the far corners of her mind. Then, she rose to follow her husband to bed.

The End