CHAPTER 1

A drizzling rain was falling outside of the mansion as Remy Lebeau groggily rose from his bed. He glanced over at the clock by his bedside: 6:30am. The Cajun shook his head. What on earth was he doing getting up this early. He looked out the window and decided that it was one of those mornings that merited sleeping until at least noon.

Remy was about to act on that impulse when he remembered that he had an early morning danger room session with Sam and Betsy. His still drowsy mind grumpily conceded that the training session was probably the reason he had set his mental alarms to wake him up this early. It didn t make him any happier about the fact however. His head was still ringing from a massive hangover and the strain of over exertion from two nights before.

Head still screaming in defiance and protest, Remy made his way slowly to the shower. The rain outside was beginning to clear up marginally and sunlight was leaking through the windows. Remy used a hand to shade his sight from the sunlight as it stabbed into his painfully sensitive eyes. That was one of the problems with having mostly black eyes. The entire eye absorbed light instead of just the pupil. The result was a broader field of vision than a normal human and increased night vision with infared capabilities, as well as extreme sensitivity even faint light sources.

The Cajun finally made it to the bathroom and managed to stumble inside the shower stall. The hot water managed to help clear his senses somewhat, yet, still left him feeling like his head was stuffed full of hay. He leaned against the shower wall and slowly let the warm water cover him. He wished that he could wash away his past this easily. Every time he tried though, it kept coming back to haunt him. He had long thought Sinister to be a buried part of his life, yet the man claimed that he was not yet through with him. It bothered Remy to know that someone like Sinister could still be using him whether he knew it or not. He had thought that his time with the X-Men could make up for his past sins. Obviously, he had only been fooling himself.

Gambit finally reached out to turn the facet off. He allowed the rest of the water to drip from his hair onto the basin of the shower. A towel was waiting for him on the rack as he stepped out of the shower and began to dry himself off. His uniform was stuffed in the closet along with all of his trench coats. He had received several curious comments on how it was that he was able to move so quickly in such a bulky overcoat. Remy smiled grimly. If they only knew the truth he was sure that Hank McCoy would have him in his laboratory for observation in two minutes flat. Jean had managed to uncover his empathic powers. She and Betsy, he reminded himself. But so far no one else more than suspected his other abilities. Remy shook his head. A mutant with four distinct and different abilities. He had once heard the professor comment that he believed that in the future mutants might begin to evolve again to the point where each one would possess more than one power. Hank had been supportive of the theory as well, but so far had been unable to find any evidence besides Legion to support the theory. If Hank even suspected the truth about Gambit's abilities, he would insist on a lengthy examination for future posterity. Remy grimaced at the thought of spending more than ten minutes in Hank's lab. His time with Sinister had made him very wary of labs.

Gambit selected and overcoat and shrugged into it. He was about to read for his communicator when it gave the tell-tale beep of an incoming call. Remy sighed. It was probably Cyclops calling to reprimand him for not yet arriving at the danger room. He picked up the little plastic device and switch it one.

"Gambit, if you don't mind some of us would actually like to get something accomplished this morning." Cyclops's stern voice was starkly disapproving.

"I be on m' way now homme." The X-men s leader's voice was not one of the things that he needed to hear first thing in the morning.

"Well, hurry up. You re scheduled to train with Cannonball and Psylocke this morning. You haven't had much experience working with either on as of late. So we need to determine how well your abilities will mesh together in combat situations."

Gambit slowly massaged his throbbing head. "Right, right. I know. I be down in a few moments. T'at okay."

"Just make it fast. We're already waiting on you. Cyclops out."

Gambit glared at the small piece of plastic and metal and not for the first time considered charging it with his mutant ability and letting it fly out the window. Remy sighed again. Cyclops would just see that he got another along with a lengthy lecture on maturity and responsibility. The Cajun stared in the mirror for a moment and tried to recognize the man staring back for a moment before he stuffed the communicator in his pocket and began to walk towards the danger room.

Scott Summers studied the scene below him with no small amount of concern. From his vantage point in the Danger Room control booth he could study in detail the three individuals below him. The danger room had constructed a New York City landscape in which the tree mutants combated a series of battle droids. Samuel Gunthrie seemed to be doing fine as he used his kinetic force field to fly directly into the exposed joints of one of the battle droids legs. The droid dropped to the ground, effectively disabled.

Cyclops grinned in spite of himself. Sam was still so young in many ways. His youthful exuberance always kept him on his toes, alert and eager to prove himself. Scott had to stifle a laugh as the young man performed a barrel roll all the while shouting in defiance and joy.

Almost unnoticed in the shadows, Psylocke lept for the damaged battle droid. Her telepathic knife flared brightly before she plunged it into the droid's head. Scott winced at the sound of electric circuits frying as the massive droid crashed to the floor. He knew the object of the exercise was to disable the robots but when Psylocke fried out the circuitry like that it made them nearly impossible to repair for future use. Still, at least she was doing her best to work with the other members of the team. Her exposure to the Crimson Dawn had wrought many changes in her. She was obviously very eager to test out those changes. He watched as she slipped back into the shadows to await her next victim.

Scott turned his attention to the final member of the group and all signs of amusement were immediately removed from his features. Gambit was idly leaning against a concrete support pillar while he watched the other two X-men effectively remove the other battle androids. Scott then noticed a lone robot advancing on the unwary Cajun. Scott checked the safeties to make sure that they were still on and sat back to watch the inevitable confrontation. Maybe being tagged by a lone battle droid would remind him to keep his eyes open.

The droid was leveling its cannon at the lone mutant s back when a sudden flick of the Cajun's wrist sent a spray of five charged cards at the robot. The fist card took out the robot s cannon, the second its leg, the third and fourth blew out the robots torso as the fifth ripped through its optical scanners. The droid fell to the earth, a smoldering pile of scrap metal. Gambit didn t even spare the downed robot a backwards glance as he casually lit a cigarette and began to puff away contentedly.

Scott tried his best to keep the anger out of his voice as he activated the intercom. "Gambit, would you please come up here. Sam, you and Betsy continue with continue with the exercise." He flipped off the intercom and watched as Gambit deliberately finished his cigarette before he even mad a motion to head towards the door. Scott was fairly certain that the man was hung over and in all probability wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed. The last thing he had been concentrating on this morning was the training session. That just wasn't fair to the other members of the team who were so obviously making a genuine effort.

The door slid open with a quiet hydrolic hiss as Gambit walked into the control room. Scott swiveled his chair around to glare at the young man.

"Would you mind telling me what was going on down there, Gambit." Scott could see that his tone had already but the other man on the defensive.

"Not'ing is goin' on homme. Jus' doing my job." Those red on black eyes glowed with defiance.

"Then would you please explain to me why that your performance today had been down twenty percent from your usual." Scott waited for a moment and continued when he didn't received a response. "I saw you out there. You weren't even trying to make this exercise productive and that is not fair to Sam and Betsy who are."

Gambit sneered, "Y' bout done tellin' me what I done wrong today teacher, or y' gonna give me detention too."

Scott's anger surged for a brief moment before he was able to bring it back in check. Right now a shouting match was not going to accomplish anything. Gambit was obviously hurting right now and as he always did when he was in pain he was trying his best to push everyone else away from him. Cyclops held in a sigh. He supposed that Gambit's relationship difficulties with Rogue were at the root of the man's problems. If Gambit was going to be an effective member of the team he was going to have to get his problems resolved somehow.

Scott tried to soften his voice into what he hoped sounded like brotherly concern. "Listen, Gambit, I know that you have been through fairly difficult circumstances lately. If you want to talk about it you can always."

"Dere ain't not'in that need to be talked about." Gambit cut him off.

"Gambit, please. I'm your friend. I only want to help."

Gambit's eyes glowed dangerously. "Y' really t'ink you're m' friend heh."

Scott resisted the urge to turn his face away from those suddenly demanding eyes. "Of course I'm your friend Gambit."

"Den why I never here you call me by my real name, only Gambit. Real friends don' do dat."

Scott faltered for a moment, suddenly at a loss for words. He finally had to concede that Gambit was right. The two of them had never been on good terms with one another so it was pointless to but forth a false venere of friendship. "All right Gambit. I'll admit that we probably aren't what you would call friends. But that doesn't change the fact that as team leader I am responsible for the well being of all those on my team." Scott paused for a moment to carefully consider his next words. "As such, I feel it would be best to put you on a temporary inactive status until you can get your problems resolved."

Scott leaned back in his chair to await the coming eruption. Gambit simply stood there for a few minutes glaring at him with a malevolent look in his eyes before he turned abruptly and left the room.

CHAPTER 2

Jean was busy preparing the evening meal. The X-men had a rotating schedule of whose night it was to cook and tonight it was Jean and Rogue's turn. And since Rogue was there naturally so was Joseph. Jean tried her best not to judge the man for his past but she still felt distinctly uncomfortable around the man. It was a sentiment that most of the X-men shared. That was why he spent as much time as possible around Rogue. She was the only one that he seemed to be totally at ease with. That fact however, caused a whole group of problems all its own.

Jean finished slicing some tomatoes for a salad and began to rumage around in the fridge for some Italian dressing. The fridge was quite well stocked, as Rogue and Joseph had taken it upon themselves to go grocery shopping that morning. Jean managed to find the dressing and placed it on the counter next to the salad. She looked over to see Joseph setting the table.

"Oh Joseph, that is enough places." Jean said.

Joseph stopped and gave her an odd look. "But by my count there are still two more X-men that are unaccounted for."

"Yes, I know but it is Thursday." Joseph gave her a blank look that clearly showed that he did not understand. Jean rushed to explain. "Hank always takes his meals in the lab on Thursdays. It is the one day of the week that he has set aside as his catch up day. He locks himself in at 5:00am and doesn t come out until midnight. Someone always takes him his meals or he would go hungry otherwise."

Joseph nodded in understanding. "What about the other unaccounted for individual?"

Jean shrugged. "Wolverine seldom eats with us anymore. If he does show up however, we can always set an extra place. Rogue, how is that casserole coming?"

"It should be done in about another ten minutes. I just hope that it doesn't go to waste like my last one did."

Jean was setting the salad on the table when the kitchen door swung open to reveal the last person Jean had wanted in the same room as Rogue and Magneto. Gambit stopped for a brief instant when he saw the unexpected crowd. Jean could feel the tension that instantly took the room. Ever so slowly Gambit walked to the refridgerator.

"If you are looking for more beer Lebeau, don't bother." Jean cursed Joseph's lack of tact. "All that was in there of this morning were the remains of a six-pack so old that I felt it would be more prudent to remove it to make room for more crucial supplies."

Gambit turned and leveled a look at the other man that soon had Joseph using his mutant gifts to create an invisible magnetic shield between the two of them. "Dat was mighty generous of y' homme." Jean wasn't sure if Gambit yet realized what the other man had done, but if he tried to advance on Joseph the shield would prove quite lethal.

Jean was about to call them both down when Rogue spoke up. "Now stop this. Both of ya." She pointedly glared at Joseph until he dropped the shield, which was clearly against his wishes as Gambit's expression had not changed a hair. "Remy shugah, Storm told me about all the drinkin ya been doin since Ah left." Her tone was appealing. She was obviously trying to reach Gambit. "Ya don't have some mutant healin factor like Logan. If ya don stop soon Ah'm afraid ya might kill ya'self."

Gambit's expression softened and Jean felt as if the storm had passed. Joseph, however, seemed unable to let it go at that.

"Besides, if you cut back on your alcohol consumption, it might help you get back on active duty." Gambit's expression went unreadable and that terrified Jean more than his earlier murderous expression. She could sense nothing from him, neither anger nor hate though it was evident that both were boiling underneath the surface. It was the expression of a man going in for the kill and does not yet want to tip his hand. Jean very much feared that the X-men would soon have a new grave when fate delivered a much needed miracle.

CODE RED CODE RED..WE HAVE AN EMERGENCY SITUATION.BLUE TEAM SCRAMBLE. Jean sighed in relief as the alarm diverted the two men's attention from each other. Rogue and Joseph promptly raced out the door to answer the alarm. Gambit hesitated a few moment before he moved to join them.

"Gambit, you can't go. You aren t on active duty." Jean hated to say those words. Joseph had just taken his pride and smashed it to pieces in front of the woman he loved but she could not let him run out on a mission in this condition.

Gambit stopped and turned to face her. "Y gonna stop me den, chere?"

"No, I won't," Gambit s face shone with gratitude at her statement, "but Scott will. He won't let you come with the X-Men on a mission until he is convinced that you are fit for duty. You know that, I know that." Jean watched as the Cajun's shoulders slumped in defeat. He slowly walked to the door and walked out.

Jean sat down at the table to survey the now empty room. She glanced at the table which was now set for six too many people. "Well, it looks like Rogue's casserole is going to go to waste after all." She sat down to think about recent events for a moment. It seemed as if all the X-Men were still somewhat lost after Xavier s betrayal. They were all trying to deal with it in their own way. Many, like Storm, Scott, and Hank were simply burying themselves in their work. Gambit seemed to be burying himself in his drink. Yet as much as she sympathysed with the Cajun, she had to agree with her husband. Gambit was in no condition to go on a mission. The memories and emotions of their mind link had faded slightly from two nights ago, yet she still remembered the overwhelming sense of guilt, sorrow, and loss. How the Cajun managed to function while carrying around all that emotional baggage was beyond her.

Jean sighed. The strangest fact about the entire situation was that the most clear and distinct memory that she had received from Gambit was that of a flock of birds. It hadn't been the most clear memory at first, but after two days the other memories had faded somewhat while this one remained clear. Jean couldn t even begin to fathom what significance lay in a simple flock of birds. She didn't even clearly remember what memory that the birds had been associated with. Jean sighed and dismissed her concerns. Every person's mind worked a bit differently, so Gambit's mind could have simply latched onto the memory on some whim of his sub-conscience.

She had fully intended to forget about the birds, but for some reason they continued to intrude into her thought. *This is crazy.* Jean thought to herself. The world was on the brink of war with mutants and she was thinking about birds. Jean examined the memory curiously. After a moment of concentration she was able to place its origin, the memory in the park. It was Gambit's only memory of his mother. She had thought that the memory had been odd when she had first looked at it, for the scene was obviously in the dead of winter yet the sky contained a flock of birds as one might see on a summer's day.

After concentrating on the memory she could see that it was actually a conglomeration of several memories. That was not especially unusual as many children tended to shove several of their earliest memories into one. What was odd however, was that while most of the memory seemed to have faded with age, the birds remained sharp and distinct. For a brief moment Jean experienced a flash of panic, it could be an implanted memory. Another glance relieved her concerns. The memory blended in to well to be an implant. It was almost as if some form of telepathic sealant had been used to preserve it. Jean shook her head in confusion. Who would want to preserve a memory of birds. Maybe Gambit had done it. He had displayed untrained telepathic potential. He could have done it just by accident or when experimenting with his powers. For come reason that didn't seem right either. Whoever had done this had a light practiced touch. Jean's heart froze for an instant. Could his mother have preserved the memory for her son.

The more she thought about it the more sense it made. No one, not even Gambit, knew anything about his parents. She could have been a telepath and that would certainly account for Gambit's mysterious charm powers. There was still only one thing that made no sense. Why preserve a flock of birds.

Despite a day that thus far had been completely unproductive, despite having to work in a lab that had recently been destroyed, Henry Hank McCoy was in a jubilant mood. Of course after weeks of imprisonment, the simple joy of being free was still to fresh to be squashed by petty concerns such as the annihilation of the entire mutant race by some silly virus. Henry sung playfully back and forth over the the debris that still littered his lab floor. He reached the one remaining functional computer monitor and waited eagerly for results. So intent was he on the small screen that he didn t notice the door open with a small swish.

"Ah-hah." Henry cried triumphantly.

"Did you find out something about the legacy virus?" Henry jumped slightly at the sound of Jean's voice.

"Umm no. But I did manage to discover that that St. Louis finally managed to clench their division while I was away."

"Oh."

"Hey, don't look so glum. I'm sure Cincinnati is just having a bad year. They'll be right back up there next year."

"What makes you think that I even care about Cincinnati?"

Henry's eyes twinkled. "With a name like the Reds, lets Just say it was a forgone conclusion."

Jean chuckled briefly, then her mood seamed to turn serious again. "Hank, do you have any serious leads on the legacy virus that you need to follow this instant."

Henry considered his answer for a moment before deciding to be brutally honest. "No, at this moment I don t have clue 1 about how to stop the legacy virus."

Jean seemed to consider his answer before she spoke again. "I need your help solving a mystery."

"Oh sounds interesting. Are we talking Agatha Crystie or Mary Higgins Clark here."

"Neither. We are talking about Remy Lebeau."

Henry paused for a moment. "Personally I think Agatha Cristie would be much more entertaining, not to mention productive."

"Hank, I'm serious."

Henry sighed as he adjusted his glasses on his face. "Jean, the man has been with us for over two years and we still hardly know anything about him. That is not the kind of mystery that you crack in an afternoon."

"Normally, I would agree with you. But recent discoveries have changed my opinion of the man."

Beast's interest was piqued now. "What kind of discoveries."

"For one, all this time Gambit has been hiding the fact that he is a telepath."

Henry felt his eyebrows raise. "That is quite a revelation. It would certainly explain several inconsistencies regarding his powers."

"Inconsistencies?" Jean was wearing a questioning frown.

"Well, most energy blasters, such as our fearless leader generally have their powers operate in the sectors of the mind that also direct muscular control. Using their power is almost like flexing a muscle to them. I know from medical observation that Gambit kinetic charge ability operates out of the portion of the mind that controls much of our conscious thought, similar to your telekinetic ability. If Gambit is truly a telepath, his kinetic ability could very well be a telepathicly originated power."

"Be that as it may," Jean said interrupting him, "that is not the reason I need your help."

"Oh," What other startling revelations did she have concerning the Cajun charmer.

"Two nights ago is when I discovered that Gambit was a telepath. I was attempting to undo the damage caused by Onslaughts arrival at the mansion. The job was routine but potentially dangerous, thus I needed a back up telepath to act as a safety line." Jean paused for a moment before continuing. She told him of her encounter with Gambit that led to her discovery of the Cajun s telepathic powers. Hank winced slightly as she recounted her slip that nearly led to disaster while repairing the damage. That story of course led to the revelation of the memory transfer between her and Gambit. He tried to suppress his disappointment when Jean opted not to share some of those memories with a very curious Beast. She completed the tale by discussing how she had discovered a telepathicly preserved memory.

Henry scratched his chin thoughtfully. "A very interesting story. The question is, why would anyone feel compelled to preserve a memory of birds."

Jean shook her head. "I'm not really sure. I need to look at the memory objectively, but it is so interconnected with Gambit s emotions concerning the scene, that it is difficult to do so. That is why I need you help. I need to transfer the memory to cerebro's database. It is a fairly delicate job and I would greatly appreciate the aid of the local cerebro expert in accomplishing the task.

Henry grinned boyishly. "Are you asking me to drag myself out of the lab on a Thursday. This would be quite unprecedented you know."

"Well, if you really need to get back to your work."

"Okay, okay. There is no need to bring out the torture implements. You've convinced me." Henry motioned dramatically for her to lead the way. "So, what exactly do you hope to find from examining our wayward Cajun's noodle?"

"Just a mother's last message to her son."

CHAPTER 3

Logan crouched in the corner of the Blackbird as they ascended from the Xavier institute. His eyes wandered across the gathered team. There was a smell of tension in the air. It was a good tension, the kind that kept you on your toes and ready for anything.

He glanced over at Cyclops who at the moment was feeding the destination coordinates into the ship's navigation computer. He smelled just as tense as everyone else, but underneath that there was a layer of unwavering confidence. It was the kind of scent that the leader of the pact should have. For if that scent wavered for even a moment, the rest of the pack would gladly turn on him. Wolverine glanced over at Joseph. The man had the scent of one of those constantly prodding the leader for weakness. If Scott faltered, Joseph would be one of the first to bring him down.

"What exactly is the meaning of this emergency." Joseph asked. The man was reeking of the sharp smell of disdain.

Cyclops pointedly ignored Joseph while staring into the computer console, but Logan could smell the cold scent of fury coming from the leader. He finally looked up and surveyed the crew. "Is everyone accounted for?"

"It would seem that way Scott." Logan answered.

"What about the Beast." Joseph interjected. "If I remember correctly he is also a member of the blue team."

"Shugar, Ah already tol ya. Today is Thursday." Rogue said calmly.

Joseph's eye's widened incredulously. "He doesn't even come out for mission assignments?"

"Its a good thing that bad guys normally attacked us on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. Even you were willing to extend that courtesy. But don't worry. I agreed to fill in for Beast as he was indisposed." Bobby was in his ice form, which normally muddled his scent a little. Even so, Logan could recognize the stingy smell of satisfaction of being able to take a shot at Joseph.

Rogue's scent went cold as she glared at Bobby. It didn't take a telepath or someone with enhanced sensed to see the tension. It was no surprise to Logan when Samuel stepped between the two and attempted to change the subject.

"Mistah Cyclops sir. Where is Gambit." Logan winced as Samuel unwittingly stumbled upon the one subject that could have made the situation infinitely worse.

Cyclops sighed visibly. Logan could smell Scott's reluctance to broach that topic. "Gambit is on temporary inactive status."

A small scent of shock momentarily filled the cabin. In it was mixed the embarrassed anger of Rogue and the grim satisfaction of Bobby and Betsy. Neither Iceman nor Psylocke had ever been particularly friendly to Gambit. Logan doubted that either one regretted his absence on this particular mission. A low growl, audible to his ears alone, escape Logan's gritted teeth. The x-men were his family but he was sometimes disgusted by their tendency to look down on someone that they were still willing to use. Logan had spent several years in Gambit's situation before he had began to gain the respect of some of the original team members.

"Okay, listen up people. This is the mission briefing." Cyclops no-nonsense voice cut through the tension in the cabin. "Two weeks ago, a young mutant named Kimberly Stanton was admitted into St. Jordan's Hospital in upstate Pennsylvania. She was in the final stages of the legacy virus and while the hospital could provide no real care for her they could at least ease her pain and make her somewhat comfortable.

Two days ago her presence was leaked to the press and the local chapter of the Friends of Humanity promptly camped out in front of the Hospital to protest." Logan felt a low growl rumble in his chest. Those anti-mutant scum couldn't even let a girl die in peace. "Until recently, the FOH seemed content with picketing and creating a media frenzy. That all changed this morning. Two orderlies were found beaten. The staff at the hospital decided that it would be best to move the girl to a safer location. That was when the attack occurred. Apparently the two orderlies had been interigated, because the attackers new all about the security and location of Kimberly."

"Uh, sir." Sam interrupted uncertainly. "Ah don't mean ta show any disrespect or anything. But was it really necessary ta scramble the entire blue team jus ta deal with a few of the Friends."

Scott smiled grimly. "There is another player in the game Sam. Hank has a contact at the hospital that let us know of the situation when it first developed. As a result Cerebro was monitoring the hospital when the attack occurred. Someone, or something interceded. Whatever it was, its energy signatures where off the scale." Scott's gaze left no room for compromise. "We are dealing with an unknown entity of incredible power that may turn on the crowd at any moment."

Logan for one wouldn't mind seeing a few of the Friends of Humanity get what was coming to them from a mutant. He understood, however, that with the recent events of Onslaught that right now the FOH's popularity was at an all time high and mutants didn't need any more bad press. Scott knew that as much coverage as this story was getting that if events turned sour it could be the spark to set off the anti-mutant powder keg that was already about to explode. No wonder he had decided to scramble the entire blue team.

"Could it have been that this girl was only acting to protect herself." Psylocke's voice was calm and emotionless. As it had been since her exposure to the Crimson Dawn.

Scott shook his head. "No, the energy patterns don't match in the child and her mysterious benefactor don't match up. What is most disturbing is that the energy signatures don't match any mutant we have on record."

"Does the kid have any relatives that might feel her safety was endangered and acted accordingly?" Logan's low gravely voice echoed unnaturally in the metal cabin.

"No. Her only known relative is her mother who gave up all parental rights to her a few years back when she was discovered to be a mutant." Scott's scent became faintly disgusted.

"Father then."

"Presumed dead. He disappeared about ten years ago without a trace. They have already closed the missing persons file on him."

"And these creeps call themselves the friends of Humanity." Bobby sounded and smelled angry. "They can t even let a poor girl who has had a rotten deal from life die in peace."

"What's the game plan shugah." Rogue still emitted a lingering trace of anger and embarrassment, but it was fading fast.

"Rogue, Wolverine, Joseph and I will act as a watch crew. We'll keep a rotating shift to make sure all points are covered." Cyclops paused for a moment. For a slit second he smelled of indecision before his scent hardened once again. "Sam, you and Iceman will have to infiltrate the Friends of Humanity. I want you to see if you can find the people who where in charge of the attack and find our what they know about our final mysterious player."

"Ya can count on me sir." Sam's scent now resembled that of an overeager pup.

"Everyone be extra careful. We can't afford for this one to blow up in our face." Cyclops steel voice was the last sound in the cabin for the rest of the trip to Pennsylvania.

CHAPTER 4

Remy LeBeau was in an extremely foul mood. In the last few months his entire life had been turned completely upside down. First Rogue had left him, then Sinister had reappeared to tell him that his debt had not yet been paid. Just when he thought that his past had been buried, it returned to haunt him. At one point he had been so desperate to escape Sinister's grasp that he had even considered coming clean with the professor. He had been sure that if anyone could offer him the redemption that he had sought it was Xavier. Then Onslaught had destroyed any notion he had ever had for redemption. If a man as good as the professor had been unable to escape the demons of the past there wasn't a shot in hell that Remy Lebeau could.

With no hope of redemption in sight, Gambit really felt like destroying something. That was how he ended up in the Danger Room fighting half a dozen Sentinels at once. Somewhere in the back of his head he knew that he was biting off a little bit more than he could chew but really didnt care.

Explosions were shaking the entire room as he weaved his way back and forth between the huge robots. A spread of five charged cards managed to bring one sentinel to its knees where his spinning bola staff was able to finish the job. Remy felt two other sentinels making an attack run from the other side of the room. A spray of energy and plasma blasts started to coat the floor around Gambit's feet. The shots were getting closer and closer as the Sentinels targeting systems were locking on to him.

Gambit dove out from under the spray of plasma. From the corner of his eye he could see the guns locking on him again. Remy turned his reflexes up a couple of notches and dashed at the Sentinels with at a speed that their targeting systems couldn t compensate for. A spray of cards flashed from his hands, faster than the eye could follow. As the remains of the two Sentinels crumpled to the ground Remy turned his reflexes back down to normal. He grinned grimly. Even if it seemed like everyone in the mansion was discovering his well hidden mental powers, he doubted that anyone had the first clue about his reflex manipulation capabilities. They had all seen him move at speeds that were not humanly possible of course, but a little telepathic nudge here and there had convinced them to disregard those situations. It was not a power that Remy liked to use much anyway. When his reflexes were raised to that level his awareness became acutely sensitive. The coolness of metal became an unbearable cold, while his own clothes warmth threatened to burn the skin off of his body. There were other disadvantages to the ability as well. Once he had left his reflexes too high for too long and the result had almost caused a combination heart attack, seizure, and stroke all at once. Running his reflexes on high was just to tiring to his system to keep up for more than a few minutes. Not that it mattered anyway, even without his reflex capabilities he was easily faster than almost anyone in the mansion.

Gambit turned his attention to the three remaining sentinels. They were coordinating their attacks now. Two were coming from the west while the other arrived from the east. Their cannon fire should have been able to trap anyone between them. Anyone besides Remy LeBeau that is. Gambit threw his reflexes into high once again and began to dodge in and out of the plasma blasts at an indescribable speed. Cards flew from his hands at machine gun rates, his bola staff whipped back and forth in an indistinct blur. A few moments later it was over. Gambit leaned on his staff heavily. He had turned his reflexes back down, yet his heart still was trying to pound its way through his chest. Acid boiled in his veins and his brain felt as if it was trying to surge out of his head. As the Cajun surveyed the charred remains around him he suddenly felt very foolish. Why had he run himself to death just to defeat some stupid danger room scenario. Destroying the Sentinels had provided a momentary release but nothing more. What was even more foolish was the fact that he had revealed another one of his well kept secrets to the danger room recorder for nothing more than a quick high. Anyone who checked through the danger room logs would see him moving at speeds that, while not quite up to Quicksilver's status, was certainly far beyond any human ability. "Ah, well," Gambit muttered softly. "De log can always be taken care of for anyone bothers to check it." Gambit hated having to keep so many secrets, but those secrets kept him alive. Those secrets could also easily get him killed if he wasn't careful. Remy suddenly felt very old and very tired. When Bishop had first arrived declaring him to be a traitor to the X-men he had almost believed him for a time. What was even more disturbing was the fact that at the time he really hadn't cared. The X-men were just another job. No jobs lasted forever and sooner or later he would move onto another. Yet, something had changed. It no longer felt like just another job. Some how he had begun to believe in Xavier's dream. Gambit looked around at the charred remains of the room that suddenly reminded him of the scene in New York. Now, he wasn t sure what he believed in anymore.

Gambit's head whipped around as door to the Danger Room slid open with a loud hydraulic hiss. The Cajun kept his face neutral despite his surprise at who entered. "What you doin here Jean." Gambit tried to keep his voice civil and failed miserably. He simply wasn't in a mood to chat. He had come here full of rage, needing to destroy something. Even with that need met the Cajun was far from content. Jean opened her mouth and suddenly stopped when she noticed the charred remains of the Sentinels on the floor. "This...this is the operation wide-awake scenario. The safeties aren't supposed to allow only one individual to attempt at a time." Gambit cursed himself for not having ordered the danger room to shut down earlier when he had completed the scenario's objectives. She was undoubtably going to notice if the log was missing for this particular training session. "Safeties are easy enough t' shut off if you been a t'ief all y' life." That probably wasn't a smart thing to say given the current circumstances but he didn't really care.

Jean's eyes widened for a moment before they narrowed. "I see. Well, if you are done here there is something that we need to discuss. If you would, please meet me in the war room in eight minutes."

Oh great, Gambit thought. She probably t'inks I be some kind of nutcase with suicidal tendencies now. Dis is not goin' t' get me back onto active duty any time soon. Gambit waved his hand half-heartedly in a gesture of acceptance. "Yeah, yeah, I be there in a few minutes chere if y' want." She would probably have a speech prepared for him on how life was worth living or something like that.

Jean nodded before turning her back and walking out of the room. Gambit sighed again and seriously considered heading to the closest bar and staying there until Jean sent someone to drag his inebriated form back to the mansion. Knowing Jean, that probably wouldn't be too long. There really wasn t any point in putting it off any longer than necessary.

Storm drummed her fingers nervously on the table while Jean paced back and forth across the room. Orroro glanced upwards at the clock once again and noted that Remy was three minutes late. Not unusual for Remy she kept telling herself as herself, yet she did not stop drumming her fingers.

Orroro had perhaps been the closest friend that Remy had had in the entire mansion. She had thus been quite shocked at the revelations that she had received from Jean in the past half-hour. The two friends had discussed the situation and both had reached the conclusion that something had to be done about Remy's problems. Jean had then continued to reveal what was quite possibly the best answer. That was if Remy was willing to try this particular method of therapy. She glanced over to see Henry fiddling with the main display. She had been somewhat surprised at first that Jean had managed to convince Beast to the sanctuary of his lab on this particular day. He seemed to have no obvious leads on the legacy virus ,however, and today's endeavors, if successful, would prove greatly more satisfying than another day of frustrations in the lab.

Storm started from her reverie as the door to the war room opened to emit Remy. He stopped for a moment to study the people filling the room. From the expression on his face he was obviously considering turning around and making a run for it. Jean must have sensed his intentions as well and quickly moved to dissuade them. "Thank you for coming Gambit. Please, have a seat."

Remy eyed each of them suspiciously for a moment before his expression was masked by an unreadable poker face. He slowly walked over to one of the chairs and seated himself. Jean had decided to get strait to the point. "First off, I don t think that I ever properly thanked you for you selfless act in saving my life two nights ago. In return for helping me, I now believe that I may be able to help you."

Remy's face was remaining unreadable. "Der no need for t'anks chere. Jus' doin what any one would have done in the same situation." Jean smiled. "You sell yourself short Gambit. I saw the memories you used to fortify our link. I'm not exactly sure how you knew how to do that but it saved my life." Remy shifted uncomfortably for a few minutes before Jean continued. "It is one of those memories in particular that I would like to discuss with you. Hank, if you would please."

"But of course." Beast smiled impishly as he typed a few commands into the terminal. As the screen lit up, Beast made a grand gesture to the monitor and spoke in a deep intoned voice. "Remy LeBeau, this is your life."

Storm could tell from Remy's face that he obviously didn't appreciate Hank's humor. On the screen was a flock of birds. Remy stared at them in confusion for a few moments then seemed to recognize them. His features grew cold. "What be so important bout dat memory."

"In and of itself it is fairly insignificant. Yet when you consider the rest of the memory it is with you begin to see some inconsistencies. For instance, the memory that this image was taken from is obviously set in the winter yet these birds and this sky indicate a late summer day." Remy suddenly surged to his feet, pain and fear clearly etched in his face. "Y' mean dat dis memory ain 't..it ain't"

"No, no, no, the memory is real. It blends too well into your subconscious to be an implant." Remy relaxed visibly and after a moment sat back down. "The memory that this image comes from is a mesh of several of your earliest childhood memories. It is not uncommon for the mind to consolidate several of its earlier memories into one. But the question that I am getting at is why would your mind choose to integrate this particular image into that particular memory."

Remy shrugged his shoulders. "Beats me. Dis ain't zactly the sort of t'ing dat I am and expert on." Jean smiled encouragingly. "Gambit, you never were able to objectively study the memory before or you would have realized that the most clearly preserved image was that of the birds. This is because someone telepathicly preserved it." Jean paused for a moment to let her words sink in. "Gambit, I think your mother was leaving you a message so you could find her."

Whatever Orroro had been expecting Remy s reaction to this statement to be she was caught completely unaware by his actions. He simply rose out of his chair and walked towards the door. His face had slipped back into that unreadable expression of his. "Gambit, what is wrong." The Cajun didn't answer Orroro's question. "Gambit."

"I'm afraid that out wayward Cajun's friend's motives are quite a mystery," Hanks voice sounded genuinely puzzled. "I thought the news of information on his mother would be greeted with a trifle more enthusiasm."

Remy whirled around at Hanks words, his face livid with anger. "You t'ink I didn try t' find her already." His tone suddenly became cold. "Once when I was still in de guild I spent seven months checkin t'rough hospital records for anyt'ing that looked like it could of even remotely been a link t' my parents. Know what I found." His red on black eyes blazed furiously. "Not'ing, absolutely not'ing. I made peace with the fact dat I wasn' t never gon see her again long ago. Now you drag dese birds outa m' head an spect me t' just run off on wild goose chase for a women dat I know I ain't never gonna' find."

Orroro's heart went out to him. She knew what it was like to have to come to terms with the knowledge that you would never see two of the most important people in your life again. Even years later she had found herself trying to deny the truth of her parents death. She knew the pain experienced when the last ember of hope was brutally crushed out of existence by an uncaring world. "Remy, I understand what this must mean to you. You are my friend and I would have never forced you to confront your past ghosts if I had not thought that there was a chance for you to discover a little of who you are."

"Please Gambit, we only want to help you. At least listen to what we have to say." Orroro couldn't tell if Jean's openly pleading tone had had any effect on Remy or not. Remy stood poised in the doorway for a few moments before he finally turned to face them. "Go head an' finish what y' gon t' say." He did not ,however, move away from the door.

Jean sighed in relief be for quickly continuing. "This image of birds has obviously been preserved by a very skilled telepath. The preservation is done so delicately and subtly that no other telepath would have been able to detect it unless they actually had the memory transplanted into their own minds. It was a message for you and you alone Gambit." Jean's eyes met Remy's for a moment. "Given the context of the memory, the first logical assumption is that it was your mother that did this."

"But why a flock of birds den. What she be tryin to me by dat." Remy's mask had slipped once again revealing genuine confusion." Hank choose that moment to clear his throat rather loudly. When all three of the X-men where looking at him he said, "If I may interject at this point I have noticed that none of seemed to have looked at this from an alternative perspective." Henry took off his glasses and started cleaning them.

"An what perspective dat be mon ami."

"Now mind you, this is probably a longshot but the birds appear to be seagulls."

"Yeah, so."

"Well, if memory serves me correctly, the seagull is the state bird of Utah." He finished cleaning his glassed and put them back on his face. "It seems to me that you might find your answers there."

CHAPTER 5

Bobby Drake had been assigned several different missions that he had found rather distasteful. It was inevitable given the work he and his fellow X-men were trying to accomplish. This particular mission however was about to turn his stomach.

"Get rid of that damn mutie." That idiot with the bullhorn and extremely strong lungs was beginning to seriously get on his nerves.

"We don t want any abominations in our hospitals." Bobby resisted the sudden impulse to jab his elbow into the outspoken companion standing next to him.

"This hospital was founded by a priest. We mustn't let the mutant filth desecrate his memory." Bobby almost laughed at the irony of that statement. St. Jordan had been devoted to helping the suppressed and downtrodden minorities.

The absolute worst part of the mission was the fact that he had to do everything in his power to fit in. "I don't want my family going with out health care because the hospital is using all their funding on some freak of nature." Bobby tried to make his voice sound as convincing as possible and nearly spewed the contents of his own stomach at his success. For three solid hours he and Samuel Gunthrie had been screaming their lungs out along with the rest of the picketers camped out in front of the hospital. He had hated every last minute of it.

Once again Bobby wished that someone else could have been assigned to this particular task. Surely anyone could have done a better job than him. There was Cyclops, for instance, who looked like a stereotypical white anglo-saxon god-fearing Babtist, but unfortunately couldn't remove his glasses without blasting the crowd to bits, Betsy, who spoke with a meticulous English accent but had the body of an Asian. That would certainly blend in well here. Maybe Rogue would have been able to blend in well until someone brushed against her and dropped into a coma. Magneto was, well, Magneto and that ruled him out completely. And Wolverine's beastly appearance and attitude was definitely not going to fly with these people. Okay, maybe he and the hayseed were the best ones for the job. He still didn't have to like it though.

Bobby nodded at Samuel over his shoulder and they both began to slowly withdraw from the front of the picket lines. To anyone watching it would just seem as if two friends, tired from their efforts were withdrawing from the front lines to get a drink of water.

"Find out anything yet," Bobby whispered to Samuel.

"Found a guy who swears that his best friend's brother was involved in the raid the this morning and was stopped by Onslaught himself. They fought valiantly but barely managed to escape with their lives." Bobby snorted. As for himself he had already heard tales where a small band of heroes had faced anything ranging from Magneto to the entire League of Evil Mutants.

"We aren't getting anywhere with this," Bobby muttered under his breath. "We have to talk to Scott and convince him that this is a wild goose chase."

Sam shook his head. "He ain't goin' ta' change his mind just cause ya' ask him ta' nicely."

"Yea, I know." Bobby sighed loudly. "I guess we are just going to have to stick this out."

The two X-men continued to walk in silence while the crowd raged around them. Suddenly a man fell in beside them. Bobby looked over at the fellow in mild surprise. He looked like a fairly ordinary individual. Dark brown hair was shoved underneath a faded baseball cap. His medium size shoulders were hunched underneath a thick outdoor coat.

"I been watchin you two for the past couple a' hours." His voice has a deep rasp to it as if he had smoked far to many cigarettes. "You both seem ta' be good god fearin' folk. Strong lads too by the looks of ya'."

Bobby tried to contain his excitement. This might whole venture might prove to be fruitful after all. "Just can't stand to see good people turned away from that hospital when they taken trash."

The man nodded in agreement. "Name's Jacobs. Henry Jacobs."

"Michael Smith." Bobby replied using the fake identity that Scott had provided them. "This here is my good friend James Tailor." He indicated Samuel.

"Pleasure's all mine." The man considered them for a few more minutes before continuing. "Me and a couple of friends are meeting at the coffee shop over on east street at five thirty. Might be able to use a couple of strong lads like yourself. Ya intersted."

Bobby smiled in genuine amusement. "Yeah, I'd say we were interested."

Dr. Coleman had been sitting in his office for the past twenty minutes trying to make some sense out of the chaos that had engulfed his desk. A great deal of the massive paperwork was probably in some form or fashion related to the young mutant that they had accepted several weeks ago. The young woman had caused him a great deal of grief even before knowledge of her arrival had been leaked to the general public. He had already had to deal with four resignations from this morning alone. He knew that several other nurses and doctors were worrying about their own safety after the attack this morning. Thus, he would probably be receiving several more resignations before the day was over.

He removed his glasses and began to massage his forehead. Things had been so much simpler before he had become involved in this whole mess. The funny thing was, that he had never really had much of an opinion on mutants. They were just another one of the issues that were debated about on television, like abortion, but never really seemed to resolve itself. The whole issue had always been so removed and abstract that he had never really paid it that much attention. It was someone else's problem, someone else's affair. Now the problem was on his doorstep and he had no idea what to do about it.

"Dr. Coleman," His head jerked up to see one of the nurses. "Scott Summers is here to see you."

The doctor nodded absently. "Yes, I have been expecting him. Please send him in."

The nurse left the room and a few moments later a large man wearing a pair of oddly tinted glasses walked into the room. He extended his had, which Coleman took. "Dr. Coleman I believe. We spoke this morning."

"Yes, a good friend of mine referred me to you."

The man nodded. "My colleague, Henry McCoy has many contacts in the medical field. We have been following this situation since it began. At this point I am not exactly certain what the best course of action will be. Do you have plans to relocate her?"

Coleman shook his head sadly. "No. Her condition is to fragile to attempt a move now." He gave a tight bitter smile. "It's ironic in a way. Everyone outside is screaming for her blood and she'll probably be dead by sometime tonight anyway.

The man hesitated for a moment before continuing. "I have an associate that might be of some help in determining what exactly happened this morning. Would you have any objections to the two of us looking around the area where this morning's incident took place."

Coleman rose from his seat. "No objections what so ever. I'll show you to the area where the incident as you so charmingly put it took place and fill you in a little on the way."

As they left his office another man fell in besides them. It was a fairly odd looking man, one that tended to catch your attention. He was fairly short, no more than 5'4". He wore a wide-brimmed hat pulled low to obscure his features, yet Coleman could the face beneath the hat had a decidedly feral appearance to it.

"Dr. Coleman, this is my associate, Logan." Scott indicated the odd man.

"A pleasure, I'm sure."

The man said nothing, merely nodded and continued to follow behind them. Dr. Coleman decided he should go on with his story. "As you know, a pair of our orderlies were found sometime last night. It was obvious that they had been severely beaten and were immediately admitted into the emergency room. When they had recovered sufficiently to do so, they warned the staff that members of the Friends of Humanity had abducted them for questioning. These ruffians had managed to extract information on the location and security of young Kimberly. They were certain that an attack was being planned." Coleman smiled bitterly. "Unfortunately, this information was delivered a little more than an hour after the attack had occurred."

"What can you tell us about the attack itself."

Dr. Coleman sighed. "Not much I am afraid. The attackers had managed to deactivate our security cameras, thus we have no record of what really happened. The most I can tell you is that at sometime early this morning a group of attackers overpowered our guards in the east wing were Kimberly is staying. According to the guards, after they were overpowered the attackers proceeded to enter into the area where we have been keeping the girl. A few moments later they came running out of the room like the wrath of god was bearing down upon them. We really don't have any idea what happened beyond that."

Scott seemed to consider this carefully. "So there are no witnesses to what happened beyond the attackers."

He shrugged helplessly. "Unfortunately no. Well we appear to have reached our destination."

Dr. Coleman watched curiously as the short man began to wonder around observing different aspects of the hallway. If he didn't know better it would appear that the man was sniffing. After a moment he turned to face Coleman. "Have you had a lot of people down here since the attack."

Coleman tried to not let his surprise show. The man's voice sounded more like some wild animal trying to imitate speech than any human. "Ah, yes. The local police have been by here once already, as have several nurses and orderlies."

"Figures," the man growled. "Scents are all muddled. Can pick out a couple though."

He was trying to understand what the man had meant by that statement when Scott caught his attention. "Would it be all right for me to speak with the girl to see if she might know what happened."

Coleman hesitated for a moment. "I would prefer that you didn't, but if you feel it is necessary then I give my consent. But please, try to be gentle with her as she is in a..."

Dr. Coleman never finished his statement as the short man suddenly began to growl furiously and abruptly left. "What was that all about." He wondered aloud.

"I don't know. But I had better find out." Scott followed his odd friend out the door.

The doctor just stood there alone and wondered what is was that he had gotten himself into.

It didn't take Scott to long to find Logan. He was just outside one of the rear exits of the building. Back here you could barely hear the deafening roar of the angry mob. Logan was obviously upset about something he had found in the hospital, that much was obvious. Whether or not he was willing to share what it was that had set him off was another matter entirely.

The shorter man was leaning against the outside wall and had just lit a cigar. Scott approached him carefully. "What happened in there Logan."

For a moment he didn t think the man would answer. "Ever since I found out about all that crap Department K did to my head in the Weapon X project I've been tryin to sort my memoreis into which ones are real and which ones are fake." He puffed on his cigar for a moment before continuing. "Every time I think I'm getting to a point where I've got it all sorted out something like this happens to show that one of my memories is still screwed."

"What do you mean. What did you find in there."

Logan sighed. "Nothing very important I guess. A guy named Aaron. I was certain that he would be dead by now. During the Spanish Civil war when everybody was gearin up for the big through down me and a couple and the outfit I was in was running some recon missions. Took a bad hit one day that would have killed any normal guy but just left me in the hospital for about a week." Hi grin was feral. "My healing powers back then weren't quite what they are now. Well anyway, there was this guy there named Aaron. No last name, just Aaron. Well this guy had a reputation as a miracle worker. Brought back a lot of guys that had pretty much been written off. We got to know each other and became friends of a sort. He kind have had an odd distinctive scent to him. The kind that you don't easily forget. Well one day he just disappeared. No one ever saw him again. I figured he was long dead by now."

"Well, however unlikely, your friend could still be alive today."

Logan snorted. "Yeah, and he would be close to a hundred." He shook his head. "When people age their scents age with them. Even in the few years we've known each other your scent has changed a little, grown with ya'. But the scent I picked up back there, if it was Aaron, he hasn't aged a day."

Scott's thoughts whirled around furiously inside his head. "Logan. Maybe it isn't a memory implant. Maybe you have found Kimberly's guardian angel."

CHAPTER 6

Remy was absently shuffling a deck of cards as the Blackbird rocketedtowards Utah. Of all the places in the world Utah would have been the last place he would have thought to look for his mother. For the most part he still believe this to be another inane wild goose chase that he had simply agreed to join along in for the sake of those present. There was a small section of his mind, however, that had reawakened and despite his best efforts otherwise was trying to make him believe that he might actually find a small piece of his past.

Beast had, of course, insisted on joining in on this little trip and was currently doing his best to drag Remy out of his current funk. "Oh, for the sake of future retellings of this intrepid journey will you please show a hint of enthusiasm at the prospect of finding your mother. I know that a brooding protaganist is a must for any journey of self discovery, but you my friend have already completed the minimum requirement for brooding and must now allow for bit of light-hearted merriment else this tale be forever ruined by over done theatrics."

"Beast, don' y' normally stay locked in dat lab a yours on Thursdays."

"Do you think I could possibly pass up the chance to bear witness to your tearful reunion with your long lost mom. I think not. Besides, you would bring the extra hankies?"

"Dere ain't gon t' be non tearful reunion Beast. We ain't gonna find her and dat is dat."

"Me thinks that someone is still holding a grudge other a certain pony that a certain someone didn't get for Christmas." Beast's humor wasn't making this trip any easier for him.

Remy felt the sudden need for a cigarette. His attempts at enjoying a smoke where of course frustrated by a certain blue-furred companion.

"Sorry my friend," Beast said while snatching the cigarette from his mouth, "but one day you shall thank me for my intervention that quite possibly saved you from a life of lung cancer. Besides, the smell of smoke always lingers in my fur. And what would your mother say when she runs to hug you and suddenly is overcome by a fit of coughing."

Remy just gritted his teeth and suffered in silence. He wished that fate would find some other amusement besides himself. The rest of the trip rapidly went downhill from there. Beast continued his attempts be cheer Remy up until even he began to grow slightly discourage by Gambit's depression. After what seemed like an eternity, Orroro finally announced that they were approaching Salt Lake City. They managed to find a decent landing place for the Blackbird and gently set it down. Once the plane had been secured and cloaked they ventured out into the city.

"Well, this is somewhat like trying to find the proverbial needle in the haystack." Jean commented as they surveyed the city. "Do we have even a semblence of a plan."

Remy shrugged, "Jus' look for someone with red an' black eyes I guess."

Storm smiled warmly at Remy's dark humor. "That might prove a bit tedious. I doubt it would prove very effective either. Your mother is a telepath, she could thus disguise her eyes if they were indeed unusual."

Beast, as usual, had a brilliant plan. "Well my friends. There is always the hall of records. A thorough search could reveal much to four travelers such as ourselves."

Remy suppressed a groan. This trip was definitely taking a turn for the worst.

Three hours later Remy was wondering if they might have had more luck following his original plan of action. They had locked themselves in the basement of the hall of records and had spent fruitless hours searching for anything that could have been a link to his past. The only up point about the entire venture was the fact that all the staff had been surprisingly helpful.

They had first shown up at the hall expecting to meet a little bit of resistance when they asked to go through the records. Even though Beast had his imager on which gave him the appearance of an ordinary citizen they were for all practical purposes strangers in the town. That however had not been the case. The moment that Jean explained that they wanted to do so ancestorial research a swarm of staff had converged on them offering references, guides, and even spent twenty minutes explaining some computer program calle Gen Search. Indeed, the only problem had been convincing them that they were just fine once they had all the information that they needed.

"Apparently they put a great deal of emphasis on genealogy in Utah." Storm had observed wryly after they had had finally managed to find a private spot in the basement of the building.

At that point they had divided up tasks. Remy was looking through old photo's newspaper clippings and anything else in the vain attempts to try to find anything that might jog a memory. Beast had managed to procure a huge stack of birth certificates and was going through them. In one hand he had a scanner with Remy s footprint patterns programmed into it. The small device would automatically check the footprint on the birth certificate when he swiped it across the paper. So far it had only registered a negative response. On the other side of the table, Jean and Orroro were going through all the remaining records. A dismal silence had fallen over the small company that had, as of yet, turned up one single clue.

"Hey Stormy, maybe we should take a break or somet ing. We been at t's for a long time. A break might do us a bit a good. "

"I have told you repeatedly, do not call me Stormy. However, a break does sound like a good idea right about now."

"Good. I t'ink I saw a soda machine or somet'ing when we came in. Do y' want anyt'ing."

"I'll have a Sprite," Jean said absently.

"Dr. Pepper if you please oh gracious provider of refreshment."

"I suppose I shall have a fruit juice if they have one."

"Good," Remy stood up and made a show of stretching the stiffness out of his muscles. He walked around the hallway until he finally managed to find the soda machine that he had seem on the way down. Fortunately for Storm it carried Hawaiian Punch, but Beast would be a little miffed when he found out they were out of Dr. Pepper. Gambit riffled around in his pockets for the correct amount of change, then inserted it into the machine.

For the past couple of hours he had been doing a lot of thinking. For most of this trip he had been refusing to believe that it was possible that he would actually find his mother. Now he was slowly becoming more and more certain that his earliest suspicions had been correct. That small part of him that had wanted to believe was slowly being crushed.

"Remy," Orroro's soft voice startled him out of his reverie. "Are you all right my friend."

Remy wiped his cheek and was surprised to find a single tear had leaked from his eyes. "I had already accepted dat I had lost her. Long ago. I don' zactly remember when it was. Know it wasn' de next mornin' after she disappeared, spent nearly t'ree years lookin' for her." He shook his head at the memory. He had been a foolish kid that had been convinced that his mother would one day return for him. Even if he remembered nothing else about his early years, he remembered that.

"Oh Remy, I'm sorry." Orroro gently put her arms around him in a comforting embrace. "I hadn't realized what wounds this might have reopened for you.

"S' okay Stormy." He said as he stroked her hair. "Dat's life, heh."

"I have told you, do not call me Stormy." She smiled back at him. "Now, come. The others will be wondering where their drinks are.

Remy grinned. "Ol' Beast is goin' to t'rough a fit when he finds out de was out of Dr. Pepper."

"He will just have to deal with it then." Orroro grinned back.

Beast indeed did through a small tantrum when they returned with the drinks. "What kind of vendor would be so lax in his duties as to let one of the machines in his area run out of Dr. Pepper. It is a negligence of unmatched proportions." Hank grumbled as he stared sullenly at the Coke he had been handed.

"Doubt dis area sees lots a business Hank." Remy shrugged in reply.

Beast set the drink down and swiped the scanner over another document. A deafening silence fell over the room when the device registered a positive match. Beast stared at the device and then swiped the document once again. Again it responded with a positive beep.

Beast grinned triumphantly. "I believe we have found our first link into the past of our intrepid Mr. LeBeau."

Remy practically snatched the document our of Beast's hands. He stared at the piece of paper with a dumb-founded expression.

"Well," said Jean. "What does it tell you, Gambit?"

Remy swallowed. "It it say dat my name be Christian Remy Reed, an' my mother be named Elayne Reed."

Beast leaped to his feet, charged with energy and excitement. "Well my wayward cajun friend, I would say that your mother is as good as found. If only it had been that easy.

An hour later, Cerebro had still been unable to find any matches on a woman named Elayne Reed. The only record of her existence had been to check into the hospital and give birth to a son over twenty-six years ago. Before and after that moment, however, she simply did not exist.

"It was obviously a false identity that she checked in under." Beast's statement was unnecessary.

"Den who is she fo' real." Remy's voice sounded slightly exasperated even to his own ears.

"We really don t know at this point, Remy." Storm s voice was obviously meant to be calming. "I am sure that given some time, however, we will soon be able to discover the answer's to your questions."

"Have y' even found a picture of her at least." Remy now sounded a little desperate.

Jean shook her head sadly. "Not yet, Gambit."

"Relax Remy, or should I say Christian"

"Non," Remy interrupted Beast. "I don' care what de birth certificate say, my momma named me Remy. I wasn't Remy LeBeau till I join de guild, but I always been Remy."

Beast nodded in understanding. "Very well, Remy. As I was saying, give a few more moments and we shall present to you a detailed description of your dear mother, complete with date of birth, alist of hobbies and past times, and full mailing address."

A few moments passed. Then a few more. As still more time passed Remy suddenly became restless. "I need some fresh air," he said standing up. "I goin for a walk. Be back in a few minutes."

"I'll join you." Storm offered.

"Non," Remy declined. "need t be alone for a minute. Need t' t'ink bout t'ings."

Storm nodded. "Very well."

Remy walked out of the hatch of the blackbird and into the setting sun. Utah had only provided more questions instead of answers and he needed a chance to try and sort all these new questions out. As night draped across the city a thief took to the shadows looking for answers he could not find.

CHAPTER 7

Sam Gunthrie had a gut feeling that he and Bobby might have been getting in a little over their heads. After they had finished picketing in front of the hospital with all the other friends of Humanity, thy began to walk over to the coffee shop.

"Uh, Bobby."

"What is it man."

"Are you sure that this is a good idea? Ah think that Scott just wanted us ta' mingle with the crowd ta' see what we could find." Sam shrugged uncomfortably. "Ah don't think this is what he had in mind."

Bobby just gave a cocky smile. "Relax hayseed. Our fearless leader actually took precautions for such an event in which we might be forced to infiltrate the Friends of Humanities headquarters. Don't worry, we are still going according to the game plan here."

Sam nodded in agreement, but for some reason his anxieties didn't subside. There was something about this particular assignment that hadn't felt right from the beginning. And the really frustrating thing about the entire situation was that he couldn't quite figure out what it was. Something continued to tickle from the back of his head.

The too friends finally reached the coffee house a full half-hour before the scheduled meeting. Bobby walked up to the counter and ordered two large coffees while Sam grabbed a both in a fairly uncrowded corner of the shop. A few minutes later, Bobby joined him with the coffee. Sam accepted the proffered cup and was about to start adding some sugar and cream when Bobby handed him a sugar back out of his coat.

"Ya bring your own shugah with ya'?" He stated incredulously. "What's the matter, don't like the selection that these coffee houses have ta' offer."

"That's not sugar, hayseed. That is one of our precautions. Now put it in you coffee and drink up."

Sam did as he was told and nearly gagged at the bitter flavor that the white powder added to the coffee. "What is this stuff?"

Bobby spoke in a low quiet voice. "If we are going to get into the meeting we might have to pass through some sort of scan to make sure that we're human. Most of the local chapters of the FOH use a simple blood test. Something about the way the X-factor is configered in our genes gives off a unique level of electrical-magnetic attraction between the molecules in our bloodstream. The test monitors the electromagnetic levels in the blood and to try to detect it. Cyclops assured me that once that powder you put in your coffee gets inside your bloodstream it should rend such a test inaccurate for the next twenty-four hours."

Sam eyed his coffee suspiciously. "Ya' sure this stuff works without any side-effects."

"Not really, this is its first test actually. But Beast was pretty sure that there wasn t going to be any side-effects from it." Bobby grinned impishly. "Besides, if it does work maybe we could market the stuff for killing. I can see the advertisements already, round the clock twenty-four hour relief from bigotry and prejudice."

"Ya' dreamin' boy." Sam grumbled as he down the last of his bitter coffee. The two friends then settled in to wait for their contact. The longer they waited the more something nagged at Sam's memory. It seemed like there was something that Cable had taught him once he had forgotten and needed to remember.

Any thoughts of forgotten knowledge were cut off as Henry Jacobs entered into the small shop. He was accompanied by a small group of hard faced men. The man ordered a coffee and quickly seated himself. After waiting for a few minutes another group of men entered into the small shop. This seemed to be the signal that Jacobs had been waiting for. He stood and left the shop and ever so slowly all the other men begin to follow. Sam and Bobby quickly took their cue and rose to join the other companions.

Outside, Jacobs was quickly herding all the gathered men into three separate vehicles. Even though the vans were fairly large, Sam and Bobby found their seats to be quite cramped. After all three vehicles had been loaded, they each departed in separate directions. Sam knew this was just a ruse. All three vans were headed to the same location. Unfortunately, since he the van had no rear windows, he had no idea were that destination was.

The van rode along in silence for about twenty minutes before finally coming to a stop. With each passing minute Sam was becoming more and more worried. He was also getting more and more disoriented. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it and silently cursed Beast. That powder did come with some side effects and he was feeling them now. The room seemed to be swimming and his head felt like it had been stuffed full of wool. He was definitely going to have words with Hank when this mission was over.

The door opened and everyone eagerly piled out of the van. The light was already fading as the day was ending. Sam saw that they were at an old abandoned warehouse by the looks of things. There was entire area was empty except for where a line had formed leading into the warehouse. Sam and Bobby exchanged looks, shrugged, and quickly joined in the line leading to the warehouse.

Sam continued to shake his head in a futile attempt clear his senses. The dizziness and disorientation were just increasing. He just hoped he didn't pass out. The younger X-man looked at Bobby who didn't seem to be suffering any side-effects at all.

As they reached the front of the line, Sam could see that Bobby had been right in his assumption that the Friends would use some sort of blood test to screen those who entered. It looked like one of the little white devices that nurses often used in hospitals to test blood sugar levels. Sam just hoped that Hank's powder didn t have any more surprises for them tonight.

Sam finally arrived at the front of the line and offered his index finger to the man who was administering the blood check. He prayed as his finger was slid into the little white device and felt a small pinprick. After a moment the machine gave a small beep that indicated non-mutant and Sam almost let out a sigh of relief. He was ushered through the main door into a large auditorium that was filled with people. Sam crossed his fingers and hoped that he and Bobby knew what they were doing.

Rogue studied the darkening streets below here from the cockpit of the cloaked Blackbird. The crowd had been frenzied all day long, but had not become particularly violent yet. So far it had been a fairly tame monitor duty. She sat back in her seat and decided to check with the rest of the blue team.

She flipped on the radio and spoke. "Bets, do ya read me?"

"Affirmative," came the emotionless response.

"Jus checkin' in with everyone. Hs there been any action in your area."

"None at all. In fact, if it weren t for the roaring crowd, you could almost call it a quite day."

Rogue found that she couldn t grin at Betsy s dark humor. Ever since the woman had been through that ordeal with Sabretooth and the crimson dawn she just made Rogue feel uncomfortable. Ther had been more changes to her than just that mark on the face and Rogue didn't want to find out what exactly those changes were the hard way.

"Well, keep ya' eyes peeled. Rogue out." Rogue flipped another switch on the radio. "Cyclops, shugah, how are things goin for you and Wolverine?"

"Better and worst than I had hoped for actually." Cyclops sighed.

"How so."

"Wolverine was able to match up a scent on someone who could possibly be our mystery mutant. However, according to him this guy probably died over fifty years ago."

"So either Logan's memory is messed up again, or were dealin' with some sort of long lived mutant." Rogue could see the disadvantages to both possibilities.

"Exactly. And there is another problem. I was able to talk to Kimberly for a few moments this morning and she didn t even know that there had been an attack this morning. The attackers hadn't even made it to her room." Cyclops's voice was sounding a little worried. "We still have no idea what we are dealing with here and we are still sitting on a bomb that could easily explode into an anti-mutant hysteria." Cyclops paused for a second then asked. "Any word from Bobby or Sam."

"They checked in with me at about 4:30. Said they had some sort of leads ta' follow. Haven't heard from them since."

"Well, keep monitoring the situation. Cyclops out."

Rogue flipped the radio back off and sat staring at the cockpit monitors despondently. Her thought began to wonder, and as usual they wondered to a certain scoundrel Cajun. She would have almost smiled if she still didn t feel anger, hurt, guilt, and loss every time she thought of him. She knew they weren't her emotions but Gambit's. Ever since the kiss in Israel when she had absorbed Remy's memories into her own she hadn't been able think of Gambit without feeling a little of the hurt that he had been carrying around in him. The experience had changed her in more ways than one. In the past she had always been a shy quiet girl when it came to the opposite sex. Now, she was stringing along two different men's hearts with a skill that would have made Remy proud had he not been one of the two men. She felt a little more reckless and cocky as well and was almost certain that all these changes had come from Remy.

Rogue wondered idly how much that Remy had been changed by the kiss. He seemed a little less wild than she remembered, but the darkness that she had sensed in him had become more pronounced. She had felt a small piece of that darkness, the anger, rage, and hate, and it had terrified her. He had become quite adept at hiding it from others but Rogue saw it every time she looked at his face.

She was shaken out of her reverie as Joseph entered into the cockpit. "Has the situation changed any?" he asked.

"Not really shugah." She told of her conversation with Cyclops and the revelations that had come from it.

Joseph furrowed his head thoughtfully. "If we are dealing with a being such as the one that you describe, then these poor fools could very well be signing their own death warrants."

Rogue nodded and leaned back to check the monitors once again. A moment of silence passed before Joseph spoke. "Rogue, I have been wondering about this Gambit fellow." Joseph's eyes met her own. "The way he looks at you and you at him, only a fool would not be able to see that there once existed something between the two of you." He seemed to be picking his words carefully. "Is there still some emotion between the two of you? Do you still love him?"

Rogue leaned back in her chair and let her mind consider her own emotions for a moment. After an eternity of silence she finally answered as truthfully as she could. "I don't know Joseph. Is it possible to love the devil?"

CHAPTER 8

The streets of Salt Lake were cleaner than most cities he had been in. For the most part, however, they were practically identical to every other street that he had ever walked on. Remy could have counted the number of times he had been to Utah on one hand, yet he still found the darkened alleys oddly familiar.

He continued to let his thoughts wonder aimlessly and his feet followed them. The entire trip out here had been an unfruitful one despite the discovery of his birth certificate. The single piece of paper meant nothing to him as he had already had a least a dozen genuine birth certificates over the course of his lifetime. At least, they were genuine enough to fool any inspection. He still didn t even know his mother s real name, what she looked like or any of the hundreds of different things that most people took for granted. Remy sighed and lit a cigarette. He would have even welcomed the knowledge that his mother didn't approve of him smoking he could be sure that it came from his mother.

Remy decided that when he returned to the Blackbird that he was going to call this whole thing off. They had spent the better part of the day on this search, turned up considerably more than he had thought they would, and in general learned enough about his mother for him to agonize over for the next couple of months. He exhaled a long trail of smoke. Surely they would see reason and agree with him.

The Cajun did not return to the Blackbird however. He instead continued to wander the streets and argue with that part of him that still refused to accept the fact that his mother was gone forever. It was a part of him that he had thought long dead, obviously it had just been lying in wait all these years, waiting for a moment to strike. "Most people up here seem friendly enough." He mumbled to himself as he took a seat.

Gambit suddenly found himself in a park. He wasn't exactly sure how he got there as he really hadn't been paying attention to where he was going at the time. Oh well, he thought, dis place be good as any other place to sit an' res' for a spell. The closest park bench was partially occupied by an older man who seemed to be reading a newspaper by the light of one of the park lamps. Gambit decided to go ahead and sit next to the guy. More then friendly was what this fellow turned our to be. "Good evening stranger," the man greeted him looking up from his paper. "A little late for sunglasses, don't you think."

Remy unconsciously pulled his shades a little higher on his face. They effectively his eyes from the rest of the world. "Got sensitive eyes miseur. Just had surgery done on dem."

The man nodded in sympathy. "I understand. My wife had surgery done on her eyes a few years back. It was weeks before anything brighter than a birthday candle wouldn't blind her. Oh, she was miserable during that time."

It was Remy's turn to nod in sympathy. When his eyes had first changed color he had been in a similar predicament. It had taken him longer to get used to that than any other part of his mutation. Well, almost any part. He was still getting use to his sometimes erratic mental powers. "Not from around here are you." The man continued in a friendly tone. "It has been a while since I visited New Orleans, but I ll wager that accent of yours is Cajun."

Remy just really wanted to be left alone right now. He wasn't in the mood for pleasantries or comments about the weather. It was time to get rid of this old fart pronto. Remy made sure the man was looking at him and then removed his glasses. As there eyes locked Remy reached our with his mind and felt for the energy stored in the glasses. He learned early on in life that whenever he touch something he could sense the energy that lurked in it. It had taken him longer to learn how to release that energy and manipulate it but he had persisted and mastered the talent. Using that talent now he charged the shades until they glowed with energy. A flick of his wrist sent them flying through the air where they exploded in a small flair of energy directly over the man's head.

The man's eyes looked like they were about to fall out of his head. His mouth worked silently for a moment and then abruptly he seemed to calm down. After a moment he spoke. "That normally scares people away, doesn't it. You aren't very subtle about telling people to shut up."

Remy felt his jaw drop. The man was just sitting there calmly reading his newspaper while brushing off fragments of the shades. "Y' y' not afraid of me."

"On the contrary," The man chuckled. "I'll have you know that I just nearly soiled myself at that little trick of yours. Yes I am frightened, but probably not as frightened as you are."

"What I got to be afraid of?" Remy snapped defensively.

"Oh, just what any person that doesn't fit into the general public's definition of an acceptable citizen has to fear. Prejudice, hatred, and as a worst case scenario, possible annihilation by those who refuse to accept the fact that you are in a human being."

"I don' ever t'ink it will come down to dat. Not here in de States."

"Oh really," the man eyed him curiously. "Around thirty years ago, the state of Missouri removed from its constitution a law known as the extermination act that had been passed sometime around the early eighteen hundreds. It was a law that has made it legal to murder, rob, or do just about anything you wanted to a specific religious group." He stared hard at Remy. "How long do you think they are going to wait to put out an extermination order on mutants."

Remy swallowed as the man continued. "Whether you admit it to yourself or not, you have got problems. You have the right to be scared. I know I would be if I was in your shoes. Good thing I don't have but another twenty years or so or the public would probably find a reason to hate me." The old man stood and folded his newspaper. "Well, I had better get on home. You be careful, you here me. We tend to be a little more tolerant out west but that trick of yours would scare the life out of even the most open minded person in the world."

Odd fellow, Remy thought as he walked away. The guy had had a point, though. He was afraid. He had been afraid from the start of this trip what he would find. It had taken him nearly twenty-six years to define who he was. If they had found his mother, found what he should have been instead of what he was, he didn t know if he could face that. Remy leaned back in the bench and tilted his head towards the sky. The sky was clear and the stars were beginning to show in the early evening. It was peaceful and quite and Remy found himself slowly relaxing. In the sky a small flock of birds was beginning to form. Remy's mind suddenly froze. He gave a start that pulled him to his feet. He had been in this park before. This was the park that his mother had left him in. No wait, he had been left in a park in New Orleans but this was the park from which the memory of the seagulls had come from.

Remy searched around frantically trying to find some piece of his past locked within the park. Then something caught the corner of his eye, the park sign. Curiously, he approached it. As Remy read the sign his heart sunk into his shoes. Essex Park. He now knew were to find the answers to his past. He just had decide how much of his soul he was willing to sell for them.

Cerebro's computer had still been unable to find any trace of a women name Elayne Reed after hours of searching. Storm had long since past the point of frustration and was now entering into the realms of severe annoyance. They had already hacked into every major computer database in the world and had still found no further trace of the elusive woman.

"Much as I hate to admit it my fellow companions, but I do not believe that we are going to find are wayward Cajun's family." Beast stated in surrender.

"Dat's what I tol' everyone from de beginning." Everyone started at Gambit's sudden appearance. None or them had heard him enter.

"Remy, we are going to find your mother. We just might not do it today, but if she is still alive, you have my word that we will find her." Orroro almost tripped over her own words in her haste to reassure her friend.

Remy just took her hand and smiled. "Dat's all right Stormy. She don' wan t' be found. An' we have t' respect that. She jus' wan' me to have a little something to remember her by. A little piece of de past. Les' go home now."

Orroro bowed her head as tears leaked silently down her cheeks. "I am so sorry my friend. This journey brought you more pain than joy."

The cabin was silent for a moment before Jean finally spoke. "If that is all, then I suggest we prepare to leave. I am sorry Gambit. We shouldn't have forced this upon you."

"Actually, I t'ink I ll stay her for a little while."

"What?!?" the chorus of Jean, Henry, and Orroro s voice rang out in unison.

"I know she not here," he explained. "But when she was, I t'ink she was happy. Seems like dere still a little piece of her floatin' around out dere. Can' see it, but I can feel it. At leas t a little."

Orroro nodded her head in understanding. "Take as long as you like." Remy hugged her gratefully before he left the plane. He waved goodbye to them as the took off and blasted off once again into the night.

The Gunthrie kid was beginning to seriously worry Bobby. He knew that Beast had said that there might be some slight chances of side effects from that white powder, but the kids eyes were as glazed as donuts. He didn't understand why the stuff didn't seem to have the same effect on him. Sure he had felt a little dizzy and sick to his stomach at first but those symptoms had quickly passed. I hope the kid s not having some kind of allergic reaction to the stuff, he thought desperately.

The meeting had gotten underway soon after the last of the members had been scanned. Jacobs had taken the stage and was conducting some quick preliminary business. He soon got to the point, however. "My fellow Americans, as you know, we recently have had the peace of our fair town shattered by the mutant filth that was allowed into that hospital. Recently, attempts were made to rectify the situation but failed do to the unexpected presence of another mutant." He pause dramatically. "Well, tonight, no one, not the devil himself will stand in our way from cleansing our town of this menace." He gestured to someone off stage who quickly brought forth a briefcase. The briefcase opened to reveal what looked like one of those new miniature satellite dishes. "This device will suppress any mutant's powers for up to two-hundred meters. With it we shall be victorious. As I speak, assignments are being passed around. You are to follow the orders of your assignments to the letter."

Bobby accepted a folder that was handed to him and glanced through the contents. He shuddered. They were planning on staging a riot at the front gate at five am the next morning. The riot was only a ruse for a team of attackers to get inside the building through the roof. His job was to rush the guards with the rest of the rioters and do his best to overcome them. They were to generate enough chaos to allow the main players a chance to get in.

Jacobs has ranting on about how this would be mankind's finest hour when suddenly the Gunthrie kid went stiff as a post beside him. "We've got ta' stop this," he whispered urgently.

"Tell me something I don t know."

Sam shook his head violently. "No, no, no, you don't understand. They'll blame mutants for what happens."

"What are you talking about?"

"Somethin' Cable taught me a while back, guess when my mind went all loopy Ah finally remembered it. That energy signature Cyclops showed us on the Blackbird. That wasn't no mutant."

"What do you mean it wasn't a mutant?" Bobby whispered furiously.

"I'm not exactly sure bout the specifics of it but something about the way the frequencies match up mean's that while the power signature occurred there, they power originated from a different source."

"Yea, so."

"Mutants carry there power around with them. They don't draw from outside reserves like mages or stuff like that."

Bobby suddenly felt his insides go cold. "That device isn't going to affect this guy, is it?"

Sam shook his head. "And more than likely, he'll be able ta' slaughter them without a second thought."

It had only taken Remy a half an hour to charter a plane out of Utah and to San Diego. He may have only been to Utah a few times but in that time he had managed to secure more than enough favors to last a lifetime.

He managed to arrive an airfield just outside of San Diego at about a quarter till one in the morning. It only took him a few minutes to reach his final destination, a large mansion set in the countryside. The architecture of the place dated back to the mid-eighteen hundreds. It was in very good repair however. Gambit was wearing what her referred to as his working clothes. A red kevlar vest was matched with insulated black pants that were molded to his legs. A pair of black leather gloves with the fingers cut out adorned his hands while his trademark trench coat cloaked his form. Gambit reached up a hand to knock on the door and then settled to wait.

The door was opened a moment later by an aging man with receding gray hair and a well groomed mustache. "Hello Miguel, is de master home."

"Is he expecting you," Miguel answered in impecible english. "Probly," Gambit shrugged.

The butler nodded and let him into the house. "He is in the basement at the moment. I trust you can find your way to him." Gambit waved the man away and began to walk towards the set of stairs that would lead underneath the house. His mind was whirling with thoughts as he slowly descended into the darkness of the basement. His eyes quickly adjusted to the reduces light, in fact they were far more comfortable at this level of light. The stairs ended in a huge lab lit by only a few candles. It looked vaguely like a mad scientist s lab that one might see on a bad horror film. Gambit new that it was much worse however.

The man that Gambit had come to see slowly turned around. "Welcome back, LeBeau." Sinister's silky voice sent shivers down his spine.

Gambit's word were laced with acid. "Hello, father."

CHAPTER 9

"I would prefer that you didn t call me that LeBeau," Sinister said with an oily smile.

"Why not, father. Its true, isn't it." Remy could feel his rage and anger building.

"Technically, no. The term, creator, would be much more accurate. The term, master, much more appropriate."

Remy felt as if he had just been jabbed in the gut. "So, I jus' be another one a' y' sick experiment, father. Jus' another bundle of genetic material. Well I don' believe dat one bit." Not much, anyway. "Where's my mother Sinister?"

Sinister stared at him impassively. After an eternity of silence he finally spoke. "I can see that you are not going to be satisfied until I have given you the entire unfettered truth. Very well then." Sinister glided over to what looked like a huge glass test tube. His had ran over the smooth length of the chamber and found some hidden switch that caused a small a small opening to appear in the glass.

Sinister gestured to the glass chamber. "This is a memory inducer. It will give you the answers you desire. It will tell you that which you wish to know."

Remy eyed the chamber warily. This was too easy. Sinister never gave anything away for free, nor did he ever do anything without some hidden agenda. Yet Gambit had always been able to read people fairly well. It was an off shot of his uncontrolled empathic powers that has made him one of the best gamblers to ever shuffle a deck of cards. Sinister had his own motives, that he could be certain of. Yet, he felt as if the man was telling the truth.

Ever so slowly, Gambit began to move towards the opened chamber. A thin mist was leaking though the mist. Tossing caution to the wind, Remy entered into the overgrown test tube. He turned around just as the chamber sealed itself. Sinister was wearing a smile of triumph. He barely had time to wonder why as a flood of memories began to assault him.

Bobby winced in sympathy as Sam Gunthrie emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet he was hunch over. The poor kid was obviously having some kind of violent allergic reaction to the stuff Scott had given him. He only seemed to be getting worse. Bobby would have to get him some medical help fast or the poor kid could very well go into some sort of seizure.

"Feeling any better now, hayseed." Bobby tossed a towel to Sam as he lurched away from the toilet.

"Feel kinda' funny." Sam s voice was shaky at best. "Feel cold an' hot at the same time. It's like my whole body is buzzing or something."

Bobby was definitely getting worried now. Screw the stupid mission. They had already found out all they needed to know anyway. It was time to get out of here. He grabbed the younger X-man's arm and began to drag him along.

The main area of the old warehouse had cleared out a little bit. Some of the members had already headed to the hospital to set up for the riot. Bobby surveyed the building and found an exit that wasn't being watched. Five minutes later he was on the street and running as fast as he could, while dragging a one-hundred-eighty pound near comatose hayseed on his shoulder.

Three blocks later he found a pay phone and decided that it was definitely time to check in. Propping Sam against the side of the both, rifled though his pants pockets until he finally found a quarter.

Bobby dialed and waited a few minutes before the call was answered. "Mornin' shugah. Where you boys been all night. Scott here 's bout ta have a stroke." The sound of Rogue's southern drawl did little to calm Bobby down.

"Listen Rogue, the Friends are going to attack again. Only this time, they have a secret backup weapon." Bobby knew he was probably speaking too fast to understood clearly but he didn't care.

"Woo, Woo, slow down shugah. Ah thought the crowd looked a little eagah today. Should have known they were goin' to try somethin'."

"The crowd is only going to provide a distraction, Rogue. While they riot, the real assault team is going to slip in through the roof. Rogue listen to me. What ever they think they are going to face, they are wrong. They have managed to get they're hands on some sort of mutant power dampening field generator, but that thing that gave off the power surge yesterday wasn't a mutant. It is going to be a slaughter Rogue, and guess who will get blamed."

Rogue cursed softly through the phone. "About how long do you think we have?"

"I don't know. I'd have to say fifteen minutes at the most."

"Okay, Rogue out."

"Rogue wait, we have one more problem."

"What's that," Rogue was beginning to sound a little exasperated.

"Scott gave the hayseed and me some stuff that was tailored to get us past any mutant blood tests so we could infiltrate the friends headquarters. Bobby's having some kind of allergic reaction to the stuff. He doesn t look good. Have to med-unit ready on the Blackbird when I get there."

"Understood Bobby. Rogue out."

One block over, a nondescript black van was idling in an empty parking lot.

*Understood Bobby. Rogue out.* Henry Jacobs smiled as he switch off the recorder. It had been fortunate that several of the Friends had worked at the local phone company. It had made it that much easier to bug all of the local phones.

Jacobs just wished that he had been able to drop in on the beginning of that particular conversation instead of only catching the last few sentences. He shrugged his shoulders. He had all the information that he needed. The only reason he had picked those two boys out in the first place, was because he thought that he had recognized one of them out of Craydon Creed s files. It looked like his hunch had paid off. And as an added bonus, the friends now knew of another way that mutants could avoid detection.

Jacobs reached down and released the latches on the briefcase he had brought with him. Inside the small radio-transmitter disk began to hum softly. He had wanted a test subject for this little device before the final run and now it looked like he would have two.

Bobby placed the phone back on the receiver and propped the hayseed back on his shoulder. The poor kid still felt feverish and was shaking uncontrolably. "Don t worry pal. We're going to get you some help real quick."

That was when it hit him and he had no idea what it was. Ever since he was a kid he had been able to sense the currents of cold around him. It was as if those currents had just suddenly disappeared. A roar of an engine made his head jerk up. A black van was speeding towards them and behind the wheel sat Henry Jacobs.

Bobby's heart sunk. He must have brought the mutant dampening field with him. That was why his powers had suddenly kicked out on him.

Bobby managed to grab Sam and hurl the two of them out of the way right before the van came crashing through the phone booth. He quickly regained his feet and tried to ignore the sting of the shards of glass that had embedded themselves in the back of his neck. Grabbing Sam, he made a dash for the other side of the street.

Behind him, he could here the sound of the van turning around and bearing down on them once again. Without his powers he was nearly helpless to do anything. Wait, if he could just get over two-hundred yards away from the van, they would get their powers back. He looked over his shoulder to see the van gaining rapidly on them again. Obviously, getting over two-hundred yards away from this guy was not much of an option.

Bobby saw a small side alley and raced for it. If they could reach it before they were flattened they might have a chance. Sam was stumbling along in a confused daze. He had obviously sensed danger but couldn't tell where or what it was coming from in his present state.

The van was rapidly closing the distance between them once again. Bobby's legs screamed in protest as he demanded more and more of them. His lungs were burning and his heart felt like it was about to come out of his chest. He could almost feel the bumper on his leg now. Just a little farther.

Bobby and Sam dove into the side alley and felt the van rush by them. Bobby heard the squeal of brakes as Jacobs brought his van to a stop. Then, Bobby spotted their salvation. Across the street, two blocks down, one of the buildings had a fire escape on it. If they could reach the escape and make it to the roof, they might get out of this alive. There was no way that they could make it to the escape in time, thought. He was going to have to but some time.

Dragging Sam to his feet once again, Bobby grabbed a Garbage can and raced towards Jacobs's vans. The man was still trying to get his van turned around so Bobby had a few moments to make his plan work. Using his last reserves of strength Bobby tossed the garbage can behind one of the front tires and took off in the direction of the fire escape, dragging Sam behind him.

As they ran Bobby heard the satisfying crunch as the garbage can crumpled around the front tire, effectively jamming it in place. Jacobs began rolling the van back and forth, desperately trying to get the front tire loose. After a few moments he managed to free up the tire and took off after Bobby and Sam once again. By that time, however, both of the X-men had already managed to scale up the fire escape and were halfway to the roof.

Bobby watched as the van turned and left. Jacobs had obviously given up on them and that was fine with him. The farther the van got from them, the more he could feel his powers returning. Beside him, Sam had collapsed in a small heap. He had to get this kid some medical help fast.

Bobby quickly turned into his ice form and hoisted the hayseed over one shoulder. Forming an ice bridge he quickly sped towards the Blackbird.

Henry Jacobs could have kicked himself. He had had those two mutant scum in his headlights and they had still gotten away. He would just have to keep this little foul up of his a secret. He would of course have trouble explaining why the van was smashed up, however.

Jacobs shook his head. Killing those two mutants hadn't been that important. What was important was the fact that the mutant dampening field had worked. His smile was cold. Soon, one arrogant mutant was going to regret ever having messed with the Friends of Humanity.

CHAPTER 10

Remy LeBeau sat in his lab carefully studying the specimen in front of him. The fact that it was still alive after all that had done to it was a pleasant surprise. Perhaps he would not have to make another trip for more "materials" for a while yet. He always disliked being forced to leave the lab when in the middle of an experiment.

Remy rose to pace slowly around the confines of his lab. These last few days something had been disturbing him, but he could not put his finger on it. It was if this lab that he had spent the last twenty years of his life in was suddenly a foreign place to him. He still knew were everything was down to the atomic level, yet the place no longer felt like, for lack of a better word, home. His lip curled in faint disgust. To think that he would ever become so sentimental over a hole in the ground which represented nothing more than one of many means to an end surprised him. But then, in the last few days, several things had surprised him and he didn't like it.

*Remy* He spun around as he heard a small voice in his head. Before him stood a woman, ageless in appearance with flowing silver hair. Her eyes were a crystal blue so intense that he could almost not bear to stare into them.

*Remy this is not your world. It is a lie.*

Fascinating, Remy thought. She is capable of full telepathic communication. She also managed to circumvent my security. He smiled coldly. She would make a most interesting addition to his current experiments.

*I shall help you Remy, but the choice remains your own.*

Remy frown at that. What choice was she talking about. And why would he need her help. She didn t appear to have anything to offer him besides additional research. Yet, why did she feel so familiar. As if he had known her for so much longer.

*Open your eyes Remy. See that which is before you.*

Suddenly, the lab became a horror to him. He remembered not only having experimented here, but also of being experimented on. He remembered pain and terror that had kept him awake so many nights in the past. The lab seemed to be moving now. It was if everything had been caught in a swirling vortex. Through it all the woman s voice continued to call out to him.

The world inverted itself and his concepts of three dimensional space ceased to exist. There were no constants, no bearings by which he could orient himself. The world continued to swirl in madness until everything was sucked into a huge blackness.

Remy Lebeau started awake. He must have been dosing and had a dream. The funny thing was that while he knew the dream had been fairly disturbing, he could not remember what it was. He shook his head to dismiss his useless worries.

Remy LeBeau sat in his lab carefully studying the specimen in front of him. The fact that it was still alive after all that had done to it was a pleasant surprise.

Sinister studied Lebeau's unconscious form through the glass of the chamber with what could almost have been called anticipation. He was resisting the memory assimilation process, but that had been expected. In the end, no matter how much he resisted, he would be molded into the tool he should have been some twenty-six years ago.

Sinister frowned as he studied the read-outs from the progress of the assimilation. He really should have done this years ago when he had had LeBeau in his grasp. He had chosen to go with more subtle methods however, as memory assimilation tended to be a little less thorough than natural conversion. He had been convinced that LeBeau was his, mind and soul, but he of all people should have known about the Cajun's deception power.

Sinister turned away from the chamber, convinced that Lebeau would at long last cause him no more problems.

An eerie silence had fallen over the cockpit of the Blackbird. The same silence was reflected in the milling mass of protesters assembled before the hospital. It was the silence of the lull before the storm and Joseph knew it well. He stared over at the young woman standing next to him and saw that she too sensed the tension that was mounting. Yet they continued to wait.

The leader, Cyclops, had insisted that he in particular remain as far out of sight of the public as possible. Apparently his mere presence was enough to incite the crowd before them into a state of panic. It was still to dark in the early morning hours for him to be able to clearly make out the features of the hospital roof. That had been where Iceman had said they real attack would come from. He once again wondered where Iceman was. He had observed the younger man's abilities once before and knew that it shouldn t have taken him more than a few moments to reach them from any point in the city. Still, the minutes ticked away and there was no sign of the X-man.

Joseph tried to concentrate on the loosely arranged plan that they had formed. Wolverine, Cyclops, and Psylocke were positioned at different points within the building. They had been given the objective of intercepting the attack team and preventing them from rushing to their deaths. Joseph had noticed that each of them had avoided the topic of what to do once their powers were negated by the dampening device.

Rogue, Joseph, and should he ever arrive, Iceman had been assigned to monitor the crowd. They were to allow the riot to take place so long as it did not get too far out of hand. That part of the plan had made him blink. By its very nature a riot was always too far out of hand. However, they were only to intercede if it appeared that they were in fact endangering the lives of the staff. Cyclops had been fairly certain that since the riot was staged that it shouldn t be to harmful.

The hatch to the Blackbird opened with a clang as Iceman stumbled in carrying the younger boy, Cannonball he believed, in. "Someone give me a hand with him!!" Joseph hurried to help Iceman with his burden as they rushed the young man to the medical unit of the Blackbird.

The boy's breathing was shallow and hoarse. His skin was burning with fever. Joseph stood back as Rogue and Iceman fitted an oxygen mask over his face and inserted and I.V. into his arm. There was something about the young man that struck a chord in him. A faded piece of a memory surfaced, the boy before him, only younger. He remembered another like him, one who had been taken far before his time. Joseph felt his heart seize in his chest for an instant as he remembered. This boy was Sam, young Samuel Gunthrie.

In an instant he was by the younger man's side. Squeeze his arm and whispering encouragement. "I won t loose you as well, not you too." Iceman and Rogue seemed to stare at him in shock for a moment before all three of them began to do everything in their power to save the young man's life.

"He's stable now," Rogue declared a few minutes later. "But Ah want ta' get him back ta' the mansion as soon as possible."

Bobby nodded in agreement. Suddenly he froze. "What time is it?" He asked desperately.

All three knew the significance of the question and rushed to the front of the Blackbird to stare at the crowd below. A scene of chaos greeted them.

He could have heard the sudden roar of the crowd even without his enhanced hearing. That could mean only one thing. The real attack would be coming soon. He blinked as the lights in the hall suddenly shut down.

Yep, he thought grimly, the show is definitely about to begin. He slipped between the shadows of an early morning darkness. The sharp smells of disinfectants and sterilizing cleaners assaulted his nose. Underneath all of that he could make out the scents of the individual patients. Most were sleeping, completely unaware of the drama unfolding around them.

Suddenly, all the scents and smells in the air vanished. Logan grimaced slightly. He must be in range of that dampening field. The x-men really hadn t talked too much about what they were going to do about the power dampening device. They were pretty much just going to play it by ear.

Wolverine popped his claws and grinned at the familiar painful sensation of bone ripping through flesh. Blood began to flow slowly down the back of his hands as the wounds did not heal themselves. The sting of pain subsided into a dull ache. He just hoped that they would be able to complete this mission soon. The prospect of bleeding to death didn't really appeal to him right now.

Logan continued to slowly creep down the halls. A flicker of shadow made him turn his head just in time to see three darkened figures slipping down the stairs. Logan smiled. He may not have been allowed to kill these bigots, but he could make sure they were unable to make it all the way to Kimberly's room.

Logan charged at them, coming in low. None of the figures had a chance to react as he descended on the closest. A quick slash with his left clawed connected solidly with the steel of a gun. Logan followed through with the attack and felt his elbow smash into the man's chin.

The remaining two figures turned their guns on him and began firing. Logan gritted his teeth and dove at the closer of the two remaining attackers, while bullets grazed his skin. His tackle sent the man's gun flying out of his hands. Logan pinned the man beneath him and retracted one set of claws long enough send the guy to join his friend in la-la land.

Wolverine suddenly found himself thrown against the wall as the last attacker finally managed to get a hit in with his rifle. Logan groaned softly. With his powers, he could have taken these punks any day of the week. Even without his powers he could have taken them. The punk had gotten a lucky shot in though and he hadn't been thinking very rationally when he came at these guys. His healing factor had spoiled him. He had been too used to diving into fights without having to worry about taking wounds. Well, if he didn't have his healing factor, he was just going to have to use a little more strategy.

Logan rolled to his feet and took off in a slow run down the hall. His blood trailed behind him leaving an easy path to follow. The punk would think he was wounded to badly to put up a fight and go in for the kill. That would be his mistake.

Logan tore off a piece of his uniform and used it to halt the flow of blood for a moment. He then doubled back on his trail and slipped behind a corner to await his prey. It was a simple old fashioned ambush, the kind that had rarely failed him in the past.

He heard the punk slowly advancing down the hall. In just a few more seconds he would be in perfect position. Fate, however, seemed to take pity on the poor fool.

*Hanson, where are you and your team* the sound of the man's radio communicator squawking nearly made Logan curse.

"We were assaulted by a mutant. Davis and James are unconscious right now but I have managed to wound the attacker and am now moving to finish him off."

*Forget the stupid mutant. We are on a schedule here. Proceed to your meeting points immediately.*

"What about Davis and James?"

*Forget them for now. We'll get them on the way out if we have time.*

"Understood. Hanson out." Logan heard Hanson turn and walk the other way down the hall. He silently railed against fate. As he slipped out from behind the corner to follow the lucky punk, Logan again wondered why life had to make everything so difficult sometimes.

Scott stood waiting in front of Kimberly's room. He didn't really have any idea of what he was going to do or say when the attackers arrived. They would be arriving soon. That much he knew from the fact that his powers had shut down a few minutes ago. In all likelihood these men would shoot him before he was able to warn them of the danger they were in. They would lash out at him with hate and anger no matter what him intentions were. Yet he waited for them to arrive. He had to, the entire mutant race could be riding on the next few minutes.

The sound of footsteps slowly grew louder until seven men walked into the room. Upon seeing him they all stopped. One finally stepped forward, grinning wickedly.

"You're here to help your friend, are you. Well, you X-men aren't going to get in our way today." He gestured grandly to a small transmitter dish that one of the friends was holding. "That little device there keeps you from using your mutant tricks on us. So, now that you're powerless, what are you going to do.

"I am here to warn you." Scott knew before the words left his mouth that they would probably be useless. "All of you are in great danger."

His statement was greeted by laughter. "Danger, mutie. The only person that looks like he is in danger to me is you."

"You don't understand." Scott continued desperately. "Its not a mutant that you faced yesterday. That dampening field isn't going to do any good against him."

As the laughter subsided, the man in front spoke in a sneering voice. "You must be pretty desperate if you expect us to believe that. Even if what you are saying is true, that doesn't explain why you would be warning us. Maybe you're just doing it out of the goodness of your heart, huh."

"I'm doing this because when he kills you, mutants will be blamed." Scott's voice was cold

"Well, mutie, you aren t going to have to worry about being blamed for anything." With that the man raised his gun and pulled the trigger.

The impact of the bullet threw him across the room and dazed him. Luckily, his armor prevented the bullet from giving him anything more than a deep bruise.

"Burn in hell, mutie." One of the men said as they walked past him.

Scott tilted his head enough to see the men walk up to the room that Kimberly was in. His breath was gone but he made one last desperate attempt to shout a warning anyway before they reached for the door. In that instant a blinding light filled the darkened hallway and Scott's heart sunk into his boots.

Aaron had arrived.

Chapter 11

Rogue, Joseph and Iceman were all staring intently at the crowd as it ran riot. They hadn t managed to make it past the police barricade yet but were none-the-less doing their best to make a good distraction.

"Are you sure that we should not interfere," Joseph had been growing more and more concerned as he watched the increasing turmoil.

Iceman shook his head. "At this point we would probably do more harm than good. No, we have to wait this out. we can't move in until they begin to endanger the residents of the hospital." Even so, the younger man didn t sound any happier about just waiting than he did.

The crowd's anger seemed to be dissipating now. All three let out a collective sigh of relief as the police at last seemed to get the crowd under control.

"Ah guess that means that the real team is inside already," Rogue's voice hid a thread of concern. "Ah just hope that they know what their doin'."

As if in response a brilliant light flared outward from the hospital to wash over the crowd. Rogue, Joseph, and Iceman covered their eyes to as they were blinded by the lights intensity. As the flash of light slowly faded a hush fell over the crowd. Then with a fury that far exceeded anything they had shown to this point, the crowd rushed the guards again.

"Burn the muties!!!" the call was being taken up by several members of the mob and soon torches were being lit.

"Does this qualify as an endangerment to the residents of the hospital." Joseph asked dryly.

"Damn strait!!!" Iceman yelled back as he transformed into his Ice form.

"Ah can't believe those fools are so blinded by hate that they are willing ta' burn down a hospital."

"You would be surprised what hate can drive a man to do, Rogue." Joseph said sadly as he ran after the two X-men.

"Joseph, me and Rogue can handle this ourselves. Get in that hospital and find our what the hell is going on."

"But you will need all the assistance that you can get."

"Joseph, the rest of the world still sees you as the original evil mutant. That crowd is in enough of a frenzy already and I'm really not even looking forward to how they will react to me and Rogue."

Joseph nodded in agreement. "Very well." He quickly created a magnetic bubble around himself and floated down to the hospital below him. He just hoped that he was not too late to do something.

It took a moment for Logan's eyes to adjust back to the early morning darkness after the flash of light. He didn t need his nose to confirm his suspicions. Gathering together the remains of his strength, he raced around the corner in a desperate attempt to keep up with Hanson.

As he rounded the corner and came to an abrupt stop. He knew that his mouth was hanging open, but couldn t help it. Even when he had found Aaron's scent yesterday he really hadn't believed it. But now, there he was, standing there before him. He was just how Logan had remembered him, blue eyes so intense it was almost painful look at them, silver hair that seemed to possess a life of its own, the only difference in the man he remembered and the man before him was the presence of pure rage on his face.

"Aaron," his voice sounded strangled. "Is that really you?"

The man's features softened fractionally. "Yes Logan, it is I. I suppose Aaron is as good a name to use as any of the others I have worn in my lifetime." His features hardened once again as his stare returned to the seven armed men waiting in the hall. "I have some business to attend to old friend."

Logan's head was beginning to feel a little light due to the loss of blood. "Don t do this Aaron. I know they deserve anything you do to them, but we can't let them die like this."

"You don't frighten us," One of the men shouted. "Without your powers, you mutant scum are nothing but...but.."

"Humans," a grim smile gave an unpleasant look to Aaron's features. "An odd, but true, choice of words for one such as you."

"Kill him!!!!" the man screamed and a hail of bullets screamed towards Aaron. They never reached him, though. Somewhere between the gun and Aaron the bullets just simply ceased to exist.

The attacker's jaws dropped to the floor. "That's not possible," one of them managed to stammered out. "Your powers.they they should be gone."

"Because of this toy, you mean." Aaron lifted one of his hands to reveal the microtransmitter dish. The man who had been carrying it grabbed at his belt, still unconvinced that it had left his possession. "I am not affected by your toys." The dish slowly began to crumple in on itself.

The moment the dish was destroyed Logan felt sharp stabs of pain all over his body. As soon as the stabs faded away his entire body was healed. Scents assaulted his nose. He could smell the anger of Aaron, the fear and disbelief of the attackers and most importantly, the fear of the hospital residents. He looked up to see them peering cautiously from their rooms at the event that were unfolding.

"Aaron, listen to me. If you kill them mutants will be blamed." Logan was getting desperate. "Is it worth the lives of hundreds of others just to kill these losers?"

"You know me Logan. I am not a man to indulge petty whims." The scent of cold anger was growing stronger. "I have stared into these men's souls and seen the evil that lurks within. They have killed for no better reason than the color of one s skin, an individuals belief in God, or the genetic make-up of a young girl. If they live it is only a matter of time before they kill again. Is this your justice?"

Logan shook his head sadly. "I never said it was justice, bub. It's life."

"Is it truly justice you seek, immortal." Joseph's voice caught them off guard. Aaron turned to calmly stare at the new arrival.

"You know who I am. I too have killed, for many of the reasons you have listed. Will you condemn me as well? Why don t you look into my soul and see what it is you find there. You seek to deny that these men have any good or hope of redemption within them. If you judge them as such you must judge me as well."

Aaron's scent carried indecision now. "It is not the same." He argued weakly.

"It is exactly the same!"

Aaron's defiance collapsed. His anger left him. For a long moment no one spoke. "I had forgotten that I am but mortal, despite my power. I was not set upon this world to judge and condemn those I would consider guilty." His voice was soft. "My anger blinded me and if not for your intervention I may have done something that I would truly regret."

Logan let out a sigh of relief. By now the seven attackers were on their knees. Some were trembling while they begged for their lives and some still showed defiance on their faces. All were afraid. Aaron slowly turned back to them. "You have allowed your lives to be defined by hate and fear. For some of you nothing I could do would ever convince you to see beyond your bigotry. But know this, today, mutants saved your life. Now go and never return to this hospital again."

The seven men gladly took Aaron's invitation and were soon out the door. Cyclops was slowly regaining his feet as the attackers left. He studied Aaron warily then finally walked towards him and extended his hand.

"Thank you," was all he said.

Aaron shook his head. "No, thank you." With that Aaron walked away from the assembled group and slowly opened the door to Kimberly's room. Logan could smell the curiosity coming from both Scott and Joseph as they follow Aaron into the room.

Aaron had seated himself by young Kimberly's bed and was holding her hand. "Where were you dad. You left right in the middle of my story."

Aaron chuckled at her accusing tone. "I'm sorry little sparrow. I had to relearn a lesson in self-control."

Logan could smell the scents of astonishment coming from Scott and Joseph as his own eyebrow rose on his forehead.

"But, her father is dead," Scott stammered helplessly.

"Well, as you X-men are so fond of saying, he got better." Joseph's voice and scent were faintly amused.

"Come on, lets go." Logan grabbed Scott s elbow and directed him towards the door.

"Is it safe to leave them alone?" Scott was still a little shocked.

"As safe as you can get on this rock, bub."

Scott and Joseph decided they should check to see how Rogue and Bobby were handling the crowd. The crowd had been dispersed fairly easily when Bobby had used his ice powers to effectively extinguish all of the mob's torches. After that, most of the mob had lost the stomach to fight and had quickly dispersed. On the Blackbird, Bobby remained in stable condition but Psylocke insisted that they should return with him to the mansion as soon as possible.

Logan opted to stay at the hospital and make sure everything resolved itself completely, while the Blackbird rocketed back towards the mansion.

Logan was waiting outside of Kimberly's room when Aaron finally emerged.

"She gone now," Logan asked as gently as he could. Aaron merely nodded with tears in his eyes. "Why did ya abandon her, bub?"

"I doubt you would understand my friend. Even I do not understand at times."

"Try me."

Aaron sighed deeply. "My species is a solitary race. Our need for solitude extends beyond mere desire into instinctive need. We rarely venture from our havens more than a handful of times in our lifetime. When we do we are faced with a constant urge to return."

"So if ya knew ya were going to have to leave, why did you have a kid?"

Aaron smiled. "As I have stated, I am mortal. I fell in love. I felt that for Kimberly and her mother, I could control my longings for my haven, master my need for solitude." Aaron shook his head sadly. "I was wrong."

"Why did you come back then?"

"There are some needs that are greater than the ones we were born with. Forces stronger than those of our creation. The need to see your daughter once more before she dies, to hold her in your arms one last time, to tell her that you love her despite the fact that you abandoned." Aaron's voice cracked and for a moment he could not continue.

Logan waited patiently for the man to regather his emotions. "I could not give her comfort in life, so I felt that the least I could do was give her some measure of comfort in death."

"In the end, its all any of us can do, bub" Logan said softly.

The two men stood in silence for a moment. "I need to leave now, Logan. I have an appointment that I fear I am already late for. Thank your friends for me. I owe them more than they know."

Logan nodded and watched as his mysterious friend vanished into the early morning sun.

CHAPTER 12

The smell of disinfectants and sterilizers filled the air. Electricity and sedatives were abundant in the spacious confines of the lab. Remy LeBeau carefully prepared a syringe for the administration of a sedative. The sedative was not designed to render the subject unconscious but to sufficiently dampen the test subjects powers for the operation.

LeBeau walked over to his latest test subject who was, at that moment, strapped to an operating table. In one swift motion Lebeau inserted the needle into the woman's arm and depressed the plunger. She moaned in pain as the fluids began to race though her veins. LeBeau had only been concerned that the solution dampened psionic powers and proved nonlethal. He had not been overly concerned by the amount of pain it might cause.

He turned away from the woman to continue his preparation while the serum took effect. There was still something not quite right about the lab that he still couldn t put his finger on. It felt like that time he was robbing some crazy rich guy s house. The man had had the entire house built using angles that were slightly off ninety degrees. You couldn't really tell much of a difference by looking, but the whole house had had a funny feel to it.

Remy's mind froze for a minute. He had never been a thief. Or had he? A part of his mind remembered countless jobs. But that was impossible. There was no conceivable way that any of those memories could have had the least bit of validity to them. What was happening to him?

*Remy* a voice spoke in his mind. He turned around to see the woman staring at him with blue eyes so intense, they were almost painful look at.

Interesting, he thought. He would have thought that the dose he had given her would have been more than enough to fully repress her psionic powers. Still, if all she could do was talk in his head there was no need for concern.

*Remy, you must listen to me. I have done all that I can for you and can do no more. You fate is now in your hands. You may succumb to the influence of your father or you can choose your your own destiny.*

Why did those eyes haunt him? Why did this lab haunt him? It had been his home for years and now it was suddenly a strange eerie place to him. Why was he having memories that did not fit in with his life? Why? Why? Why?

Remy screamed as he clutched his head and fell to the floor. The world was spinning again. Again? Yes again, this had happened before. He remembered now. None of this was real. Remy opened his eyes and stared at swirling mists. Beyond the mist, he could almost make out what looked like a glass wall. Not knowing what else to do he reached out towards the glass.

Sinister was intent in a dissection when a sudden explosion sounded behind him. He turned to find LeBeau slowly climbing out of what remained of the memory assimilation chamber. That was impossible. There is no conceivable that LeBeau would have been able to resist the memory assimilation process. Had he been anyone but who he was, his mouth would have been hanging wide open.

LeBeau rose to his feet, eyes flashing in anger and defiance. "What was de meaning of dat, father?!?"

Sinister knew he was going to need more time to study the recordings of LeBeau's rejection of the memory assimilation process. If he found out too much right now it would inevitably frustrate over two decades of careful work. What was worse, if he returned to the X-men with even a fraction of the knowledge he now possessed, his plans would be drasticly altered. Sinister considered the man before him and his options concerning that man carefully. The full truth could be devestating, but a piece of the truth could very well serve his plans.

His slick smile slid back into place as he carefully considered LeBeau. "That, was to give you the answers you sought. I believe those answers were what you wanted of me."

"Stop playin' games wit' me Sinister," LeBeau was not going to be easily satisfied. "Were is my mother?"

"Mother, Lebeau, why you have no mother."

"Liar!!" the yong man screamed in rage. "I remember her you lying bastard. Were is she?!"

"Ah, you are referring to the woman who carried you in her womb,"

"Dat is generally de definition of a mother."

"In most cases, I would concur," Sinister absently began to observe the remains of a piece of equipment as if LeBeau no longer interested him. "For you to consider her your mother, however, would be like a chick considering the incubator that had hatch it a mother."

Sinister nearly smiled at the effect his cold words had on the young man. He visibly paled and began to shake uncontrollably. "Non, non, non," he whispered desperately.

"Actually, it is quite true. After I had managed to manufacture a genetic embryo invested with all the mutagenetic potential you have developed, I required a female vessel to contain and birth the child," Sinister gave an aloof shrug. "Your mother, as you refer to her, was the first convenient subject I found."

LeBeau had dropped to one knee by this time. His breathing was somewhat ragged but he managed to ask, "Where is she Sinister?" Sinister almost frowned. The young man still had a reserve of self respect left. It was time to strip that away as well. "I honestly don't know where she is right now. She managed to escape soon after I had impregnated her with you. Honestly, I find it surprising that she didn't abort you when she found out what I had done. It takes no great leap of logic to realize why she chose to abandon you." LeBeau shuddered then sunk the rest of the way to the ground. When he finally rose again, his face was an unreadable mask. Sinister knew he was broken, mind and spirit. LeBeau said nothing. He simply turned and began to walk away. By the time he had reached the staircase, he was running.

Sinister allowed himself a satisfied smile. The young man would stay far away from his fellow X-men thus giving him enough time to divine why the memory assimilation process had failed. He turned to one of the monitors and activated it with a mental command. So intent was he in the study of the monitor that he did not notice a new visitor entering into the room. After a moment Sinister sensed the presence of the other man and whirled to face him. His features faded into a frown before he could stop them. "What are you doing here, Aaron?" his voice help only annoyance.

The man had been studying the remains of the memory assimilation chamber. He now turned to face Sinister his blue eyes shining malevolently. "It would appear that I am missing an appointment. No, matter. I can see that everything went according to plan." Sinister held back a hot flash of anger. "Even your species considers it rude to just come and go as you please, with no regard to the privacy of another's home. Surely you extend this courtesy to other people."

"Other people didn't do what you did to my sister, Essex. I would have killed you a long time ago had sister not begged for your life." Aaron's face grew introspective for a brief moment. "Until now I never realized why she wished for you to be spared."

Sinister was rapidly losing control of his temper. "Be that as it may, you still have not answered my question, Why are you here?"

"Just to ensure that a mother's last wishes concerning her son were fulfilled."

"Lebeau has no mother."

Aaron's eyes seemed to glow for a brief instant. "No, Essex, I suppose by your definition he would not have mother. It has obviously escaped you that there are ties stronger then those genetic bonds that you have devoted your life to studying. Thus is the bond between a mother and her child."

Sinister's face nearly betrayed his surprise. This man had unwittingly given him the answer that he had been convinced would prove most difficult to discover. He now knew how it was that LeBeau had managed to resist his memory assimilation process. Sinister turned his back on his unwelcome visitor and returned his attentions to the monitor. So intent was he on the screen, that he didn't even notice when Aaron left.

Epilogue

The last twenty-four hours were a blur to Remy. He had spent most of the time running. As unreasonable as it was, he felt that if he ran hard enough that he could escape the truth of what Sinister, his father, had told him. He had run through the streets uncaring of the curious stare he received from onlookers. He had run outside the city limits and alongside the desolate empty roads. He had run until body would no longer obey his mind s commands and had collapsed from exhaustion. His body ached and screamed in agony, but if he could have convinced any part of himself to move, he would have started running again.

Life had dealt him a rotten hand, but if anyone should know how to make do with a lousy hand it was him. He had won just as many pots on lousy hands as he had on good ones. But this was more than even he knew what to do with.

His head had been buzzing ever since his confrontation with Sinister. The buzz was slowly growing more and more insistent. Earlier, when he was running, he had been able to ignore it. Now, his body was exhausted and he no longer had any distractions. The buzzing continued to increase and the world slowly faded away. For a moment he idly wondered if he was dying. Maybe Sinister had done something to him when he had been in that huge test tube. The funny thing was, as the world faded out, he realized that he really didn't care.

Remy opened his eyes to find himself in a park. It only took him a split second to recognize the place. It was the same park his mother had abandoned him in.

"I never wanted to leave you Remy, if it had been within my power I would have taken you with me." Remy's heart froze in his chest. He did not remember having ever heard the voice before but the part of any child that instinctively recognizes its mother let him know who it was.

He slowly turned to face the park bench and saw his mother. She had a beautiful ageless face framed with silver hair and intense blue eyes. It was the same woman he had seen in those memories Sinister had tried to pump into his head.

"You you be the chere dat was tryin' t' warn me," he managed to get out through a suddenly dry throat.

She smiled softly. "Yes, it was I."

"Is dis fo real, or is it some other dream."

"This is a final memory that I left for you. I left stored in the one place that I knew you would eventually be forced to confront. Your father's lab."

"Y' mean de man dat destroyed y' life."

She shook her head sadly. "You have the truth now, but if I know your father he made that truth as painful as possible. Your father did violate and use me, but in no way do I blame you for the things he did to me."

Remy bowed his head. "I ain't even human, jus' some experiment."

He felt her hand on his cheek as she turned his face up to stare into his eyes. "You are my son. No matter what Sinister told you that remains constant. And as your mother I have and will always love you."

"Mother, "he whispered softly, "What's your name."

She smiled at him once again and answered, "Alanna."

Remy threw his arms around his mother and cried while she gently rocked him in her arms.

Remy woke up about an hour later. He could still hardly believe that he now had a piece of his mother floating inside his head. Everything he'd ever wanted to know, her life, her loves, her hobbies were all there within his reach. It wasn't quite as good as being able to meet her in person, it was far more than he had expected to find at the beginning of this trip.

Remy LeBeau smiled as he lit a cigarette. He could feel his old cockiness and charm returning and in spite of protesting muscles, managed to drag himself to his feet. He could hear the sounds of a party coming from a nearby bar.

He drew the collar of his overcoat and sauntered over toward the sounds of revelry. The night was still young. And he still had a lot of living to do.

THE END