Here we go with this one again. I've got writers block for What the Future Holds, so I figured I might as well do some work on this one.
Disclaimer: Marvel holds all rights to the characters with in. I'm not making any profit, so please don't sue.
Thanks to the Scribe for providing me with a bit of information on Sinister and the Marauders.
July 20, 1998.
Remy walked side by side with his father. He felt as if it had been a very long time since he was this content, but for some reason, he could not remember why.
He shrugged off the feeling as Sinister spoke to him. "How do you feel?"
"My head's spinnin' a bit, but other then that, I feel fine."
Loss of accent? Sinister noted to himself. I wonder how much he remembers of his time with the X- Men.
"Then you are feeling no after affects from your contact with Rogue."
Gambit stopped at the mention of Rogue's name. Somewhere in the pit of his stomach he knew the name, but recognition slipped away as fast as it had appeared. "Father?" He asked in confusion, then added, "I'm afraid I don't know who that is."
Sinister frowned. Apparently whatever he had remembered when he woke up was now lost to him. He shook his head and sighed. "What is the last thing you remember before you woke up today Remy?"
Remy thought it was an odd question, but thought back to the last thing he remembered. He opened his mouth to say something, and then it was gone. He remembered something else but forgot it just as soon. Alarmed, he looked to his father for help.
Sinister sighed. He cupped his son's cheek with his hand. "It's all right Rembrandt. Don't be afraid. You have to be strong."
Gambit's jaw tightened and he stood up straight. "Yes sir."
Sinister's face went into a mask. He didn't want to let Remy know, but he was very afraid for him. If his mind continued to lose memories at this speed, it could very well drive him to the point of death. "Come," Sinister said, gently but firmly, gesturing down the hall. "I have a few tests to run."
Remy nodded sadly and started walking again. Sinister's mind was spinning. The last time Remy was this bad Sinister had nearly lost him. Then, in an attempt to save him, he had lost him, not to death, but to Jean Luc LeBeau.
The two entered a room and moved to a bed in the centre. Sinister gestured for Remy to have a seat and he obliged without question. As Sinister set up an experiment, Gambit's mind started to wonder.
Visions of different people, different faces, appeared in his head. A gorgeous black woman with beautiful blue eyes, and long white hair; A brown haired man in red sun glasses; A red haired man in a green suit; A bald man with a red mustache; one in a wheelchair; A breath taking brunette with deep emerald eyes; A blond woman with mysterious violet eyes; A red head with green eyes; Another red haired man...¹
"Remy?" Sinister asked, breaking him out of his reverie.
He blinked and looked back at him, the visions already fading from his mind. "Yes?"
"You were remembering something?" Sinister asked in suspicion.
Remy shook his head, thinking. "Faces," He uttered, "But they're gone now."
Sinister nodded, noting that to himself. "The equipment is ready. We can preform the procedure."
"Yes sir," Remy replied obediently, with a nod of his head.
"Lay down," Sinister commanded, as he came towards Gambit with various monitoring wires.
Gambit obliged, and Sinister placed the wires on his temples and forehead, fastening them with surgical tape. He turned on the monitors, half knowing what he was about to discover, and recorded Gambit's brain waves.
What he saw disturbed him greatly. Gambit's mind was rapidly deteriorating. His memories were being rapidly destroyed, and he knew from past experience that there was nothing he could do to help.
Sinister sighed, and looked up at Remy. Nothing I can do. But perhaps there is someone else who can. "I am done with you for now. Find Creed and Vertigo and go with them."
"Yes sir," Gambit replied simply, walking out the door to follow his master's advice.
Sinister sighed and turned back to his screen. It was going to be a long night.
Gambit walked into a ready room to find SabreTooth and Vertigo preparing for a mission.
Vertigo looked up at him as he came in. "How's it going?" She asked, looking down at what she was doing again.
He grimaced. "Slowly," He replied, then nodded to their equipment. "Laptop?"
SabreTooth looked up at him. "Yep."
Gambit nodded, picking up a few disks, fidgeting with them and then putting them back down.
Vertigo looked back at him and smiled sideways. "Bored?"
Gambit smiled. "What gives you that impression?"
"Nothing in pedicular," Vertigo replied, shrugging.
"So... Where you two goin' tonight?" prodded Gambit.
Vertigo threw a back pack, and black tight suit at him. "Mr. Sinister already called down to tell us that you would be joining us, so you can stop hinting."
"That obvious?"
"More so."
He smiled brightly. "I'll go change."
When he was gone Creed turned to Vertigo. "What do ya think happened to his accent?"
Vertigo shrugged. "I don't know, but I miss it. It's disconcerting not to hear him being his arrogant old self."
Creed went thoughtful, then shrugged, as Gambit came back into the room. "Where Are we going anyway?"
"V.S.M.² It's--"
"--A medical company in New York."
Creed looked up, interested. "How'd ya' know that?"
Gambit squinted. "They do research on mutants right? The... Legacy Virus."
Vertigo nodded, "Yeah that's right. We're going in to steal their files. Ought to be right up your ally."
Creed stood up and walked towards Gambit, who had not responded to Vertigo. "You all right Cajun?"
Gambit gave his head a hard shake, and stared back into Creed's eyes, "Cajun? What do you mean by that?"
Vertigo stepped up and passed SabreTooth his bag. "It's time to go boys."
1. In case you were wondering: Storm, Cyclops, Lean Luc, Henri, Xavier, Rogue, Bella Donna, Jean, and a man I haven't introduced yet named Thierry.
2. V.S.M. Stands for Victoire Sur le Morte (Don't take my word that that's spelled right!) Which
is french for Victory over death.
CRIM§ON