"So Gris. We gon' fight or not?" Remy asked.

"Remy, chil', don' do dis…" Tante Mattie pleaded. She knew as they all did that Remy was more than capable of taking care of himself. But Gris-Gris was a big man, and a powerful one.

Remy glanced at Tante Mattie with a dark expression on his face. "What else am I s'posed to do, stand here an' let dem kill you? Dat ain' acceptable. If Gris ain' gon' let you go an' stop dis nonsense, I don' have any other choice."

Tante Mattie wasn't prepared to accept that answer. She looked at Bella Donna. "Do you have any authority here?"

Bel shook her head. "If I did, do you t'ink I'd be sittin' here tied up wit' de rest of you?"

"Looks like you all lose." Gris sneered, pulling out a gun and aiming it at Remy's head.

"Gris!" Tante Mattie exclaimed. Before she could say another word, the gun blew up in the big man's hand.

Remy raised an eyebrow. "You forget, homme, dat I still have de abilities to charge objects without actually touchin' dem. Now, I don' wan' fight wit' you. If you insist on it, den fine. But Tante here seems to t'ink we can settle dis without fightin' an' I'd like to b'lieve dat. So, you wan' tell me what's been eatin' at you for de past little while?"

Gris sighed and turned away. He wanted to fight, he wanted to kill them all. Talking was pointless, in his opinion. They had talked before, and all that got them was more problems.

Remy noticed the look that crossed the black man's face. He knew Gris was angry, and he had an idea why. He just prayed he could convince Gris to knock off his antics and find a way to put up with it all.

"Gris, listen. Do you t'ink dis has been easy on any of us?" Remy asked as Fifolet and Questa got up off the floor and dusted themselves off. Genard had woken up as well, and was using Claude's shoulder as a pillow. "I don' t'ink any of us wanted dis unification, but we're stuck wit' it. We're stuck wit' each other."

"The very least we can do is make de best of it," Bella Donna continued. "So what if it goes 'gainst everyt'ing we know?"

"I won'." Gris replied bitterly, whirling and facing Bel. "I put up wit' bein' on deir side until now b'cause you said to, but I'm sick of it an' I won' do it any longer. An' if de only way to get out of it is to kill dem, den dat's jus' what I'm gon' do."

Remy sighed. "I can' let you do dat, Gris."

"Do you t'ink you have a choice, LeBeau?" Gris asked.

Remy was starting to think maybe he didn't, but he remembered something that might work. The assassins had all respected Marius Boudreaux a great deal. The mention of him might convince Gris to back down.

"Bel, what do you t'ink?" He asked his ex-wife. "Our fathers tried for a long time to achieve dis unification t'ing. I t'ink dey'd be pretty disappointed right now if dey could see how t'ings are turnin' out, don' you?"

Bella Donna smiled as she realized what Remy was trying to do. She nodded. "Papa may have disliked de t'ieves," she began. "Mais, he wanted dis unification, prob'ly as much as your father did. Dat's why I've been tryin' so hard. Oui, I t'ink he'd be very disappointed."

Gris folded his arms and remained silent. He was still angry, and he didn't want to admit that he was bothered by the idea that Marius would be upset over his actions.

Fifolet stayed where he was, but Questa walked over to Remy. He had never had any intentions to go as far as they did, and he felt bad about what had been done to the thieves.

"Hey, um, I know it don' mean much, but Fifolet an' I were kinda jus' followin' Gris' lead, ya know? Old habits are hard to break. We didn' mean for it to get dis outta hand." He said. Fifolet muttered something in agreement. Remy got the impression that Questa was more sincere in what he was saying than Fifolet, but that didn't bother him much. He knew it was a concession for any of them to be saying that kind of thing, and he accepted it.

"Okay. T'anks for sayin' dat, Questa." Remy replied. "Gris, I know you're angry, but I'm not fightin' you. Dis is what's gon' happen. I'm gon' untie dese guys, an' Tante's gon' go home. I t'ink a separation might be a good t'ing, so I'm takin' de others back to New York wit' me. We'll prob'ly be gone a couple of weeks."

"An' when dey get back, we're all gon' sit down an' figure dis whole mess out. Dere won' be any more fightin' among de members of dis Guild." Bella Donna said.

"Remy, is Emil okay?" Mercy asked as the thieves piled into the jet Remy had flown down to New Orleans. It took Theoren, Claude and Remy to help Genard into the plane. He wasn't in good shape.

"He was don' much better last time I saw him," Remy replied. "But right now I'm more concerned wit' dis guy." He helped Theoren get Genard settled, a worried expression on his face. "Are you okay, G?"

"It hurts." Genard replied, wishing he could see. His eyes were swollen almost shut, and every bone and muscle in his body was aching.

"What hurts, Genard?" Theoren asked.

"Everyt'ing. Even my teeth hurt."

Claude rubbed his bruised cheek. "I hear dat. Ol' Gris has quite de right hook. I t'ink he knocked a couple of my teeth loose too."

Remy sighed and sat down in the pilot's seat of the jet. "Well, we'll be in New York b'fore you know it an' Hank'll look after de two of you."

"Who is Hank?" Zoe wanted to know. She buckled her seatbelt and looked out the window.

"Friend of mine. Exceptional doctor, too. He's the one taking care of Emil." Remy told them. He made a mental note to warn them all about Hank's appearance before they actually met him though.

The halls of the Xavier School were silent. Remy couldn't believe it. After consulting with his watch and confirming that it wasn't time for everyone to be in bed, he wondered what was going on, but dismissed the thought rather quickly. He wanted to get Genard and Claude into the MedLab as soon as possible, especially Genard.

They ran into Jean just outside the MedLab.

"You're back!" She exclaimed in a hushed voice. "Your friend in there has been very worried about you. I'm glad to see everyone's okay…"

Jean's voice trailed off as she got a look at Genard. "Or maybe not! Are you alright?"

Genard groaned in pain. "Dat depends on your definition."

Jean sighed. "You don't look alright. Come in, please. Hank's inside."

The thieves followed Remy and Jean into the MedLab. They were not shocked to see Hank, thanks to Remy's warning when they were still in the jet. Emil was sleeping on one of the beds, and while they were glad to see he was okay, they decided not to disturb his much-needed rest.

"Oh my stars and garters!" Hank exclaimed upon seeing Genard. "I knew I was getting this bed ready for someone. Would you care to have a seat?"

"T'anks." Genard replied as Theoren helped him up onto the bed.

"Now," Hank continued. "I am Dr. Henry McCoy, but I hope that Remy has already mentioned this to you all. And this is Jean Grey. We have already met your friend Mr. Lapin over there, but I would like to know who the rest of you are."

"You can call me de human punching bag." Genard joked from the bed beside Hank.

Remy laughed. "I'll admit he does look like one, but callin' him dat isn' right. His real name is Genard Alouette."

"Well, Monsieur Alouette, before Remy introduces the rest of your friends, can you tell me who did this to you?" Hank asked with a kind smile as he examined Genard's swollen face.

"A very big assassin." Genard replied.

"Really?" Jean inquired. She wasn't saying much, mainly because she wasn't the doctor.

"Oui. Same one who beat up Emil." Remy told her. "Anyway, to finish off de introductions, dis is my sister-in-law, Mercy, an' our friends Theoren Marceaux, Zoe Ishihara an' Claude Potier."

Hank and Jean said hello to the thieves, then Hank addressed Remy.

"Professor Xavier would like to talk to you. And I'm sure he would be delighted to meet your friends as well. I believe he is in his office. Why don't you go see him while I take care of Genard?"

Jean smiled at the thieves as they slowly made their way out of the MedLab. She could tell from the feelings and thoughts they were radiating that they didn't quite trust her or Hank totally, and were having second thoughts about leaving the MedLab. She didn't blame them for that; they had just met after all.

When they left, Hank looked at Jean. "They don't trust us much, do they?"

"No, but they trust Remy." Jean replied.

Genard chuckled then groaned in pain. "Ouch! Remind me not to do dat 'gain, okay? Anyway, I was gon' say, dey trust Remy, oui, an' even t'ough it don' seem like it, dey do trust you, b'cause he does."

"I hope that is the case, as we would never hurt any of you." Hank told him.

"I know," Genard replied smiling in spite of his aching face. "An' if you can make de swelling go down in my face so I can put my glasses on 'gain an' actually see you guys an' everyt'ing else, I'll be eternally grateful."

Hank laughed. "Well, my new Cajun friend, I promise to do my best."

"T'anks." Genard said, trying to get comfortable on the bed so Hank could do his job.

While Hank was working on Genard's wounds, Emil woke up.

"Genard!" He exclaimed, sitting up in the bed. "What happened?"

"Hey Red." Genard replied from across the room. "Gris was giving out discounts on his beat-de-crap-outta-de-t'ieves treatment. Since you weren' dere, he took it out on me. He got Claude a bit too, but Remy got dere in time an' stopped him."

"Is it over?"

"Sorta. Remy took us all here, I t'ink mainly so Dr. McCoy here could fix me up, but also to give us a little separation time from de assassins. When we go back, we're gon' figure out how to end de mess without endin' de unification."

"If dat's even possible…" Emil muttered. "Where's everyone else den?"

"They went with Remy to see Professor Xavier." Jean told him.

"Ah. Cool." Emil replied. "Hey, um, Jean? Could you maybe get me a popsicle please? My throat kinda hurts."

"Sure," Jean said. "Any particular flavor?"

Emil thought for a moment. "Well, Jubilee said she had to fight some Bobby guy for de last lime one, so…orange please."

"Okay. I'll be back in a few minutes." She went to the door and paused when she got there. She looked back at Genard. "Would you like one too, Genard?"

Genard attempted to look at Hank, but with little success given the fact that his face was swollen and he didn't have his glasses. "Can I, Dr. McCoy?"

Hank smiled. "I don't see why not. The coolness of it might even help bring down the swelling, who knows? It might be a new, breakthrough medical technique that no one has discovered yet."

"Whatever, Dr. McCoy. Yes, I'd like one please Jean." Genard said. "Cherry if you have one."

Jean smiled to herself as she walked to the kitchen to get the popsicles for the thieves. She was very impressed with both Emil and Genard. They were very polite and charming young men. She liked them. And she was sure she'd like the rest of the thieves once she got to talk to them a little more as well.