Road's End: Part Four


Ororo paused outside of the den, watching Remy lay out yet another of his endless games of solitaire. His elaborate, extensive shuffling and precise placement of the cards made her think he played more for the feel of the cards in his hands than out of interesting the game.

She took a deep breath, trying to cleanse all uncharitable thoughts in preparation for her shift of babysitting/recruiting.

"Hello Remy," she said in a bright, cheerful voice, holding out a yathzee board," I thought you must be bored, would you like to play a different game?"

Remy glanced at her, recognizing the voice then noting the score pad in her hand. "Shor t'ing, but I best be keepin' score... don' know if yo' can write."

The cards in front of Remy scattered as Storm's anger manifested as a mini-whirlwind, sweeping through the room.

Almost as quickly as it sprung into existence the whirlwind dispersed. "I deserved that," Storm said stiffly, kneeling to collect the cards she'd sent flying.

Once that was finished she set both the cards and the yathzee board on the table in front of Remy, taking a seat across from him. "You may have the first turn."

Remy shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Thought yo'd storm off," he said. "Don' have a clue as to what your game be about chere." Determinedly avoiding her eyes, his silky, overly long bangs falling into his face, Remy looked every bit as young as he was for a brief moment.

"I could teach you," Ororo offered. "I'm certain you will prove a quick learner," she added trying to erase her earlier insult.

"That be true," Remy replied, picking up the board to examine it more closely. "It be dat or yo' die very young."

"Where as you are so terribly ancient," Ororo found herself teasing, to her own surprise.

"Just explain de game," Remy answered, trying and failing to sound annoyed.


Scott and Jean slipped into the hospital room past complacently blind guards.

"What are you guys doing here?" Bobby Drake asked. "My mom'll kill you if she sees you here."

Jean tapped the side of her head. "No one will see us unless I want them to," she explained. "It's good to see you awake again."

"We've missed you," Scott added. "Baseball games just aren't the same without you there to add the snowball fight element."

"So how is everything at the school? Did anyone else get hurt?" Bobby asked.

"You saved Ororo," Jean said, her voice tight. "I'm sorry we couldn't have done the same for you."

An uncomfortable silence descended.

"There's a new student," Scott said after awhile, anxious to fill the void. "Remy Lebeau, he's about your age."

"His parents are letting him after..."

"He doesn't have any parents so far as we know," Jean said. "Which fits, we know next to nothing about him."

"Oh?" Bobby said. "What's he do?"

"Blows things up," Scott answered. "He calls it his charge. Hank thinks he must be turning the potential energy in objects into kinetic energy, but we aren't really sure how it works. Remy's paranoid about labs or test of any sort. We're trying not to scare him off."

"I was going to say it would be nice if I could meet him," Bobby said. "But I guess that would really scare him, huh?"

"We could bring him next time," Scott said. "I mean if you want us to come back. Remy doesn't really need Jean to sneak him in here I guess. There's no restraining order against him."

"Why wouldn't I want you to come back?" Bobby asked.

"I thought you might hate us because of what happened," Scott said quietly.

"No way!" Bobby exclaimed. "But..."

"What?" Jean asked with concern.

"Do you guys know about what the rest of us were talking about right before IT happened?" Bobby asked.

Jean and Scott nodded.

"I was really scared during that fight," Bobby said. "I couldn't... Maybe seeing him grab Storm was what snapped me out of it... But I think the Professor did something to me. Made me fight. Even if my parents would consider it, I don't ever want to go back to the school, or see him ever again."


"I thought you might be feeling cooped up here," Peter said, car keys dangling from his fingers. "Want to go into town and catch a movie? Scott and Jean are coming too. We'll probably end up going for pizza afterwards."

"Gimme a minute," Remy said.

"You've already got your coat, as always. What else do you need?" Peter asked.

"Saw some shades in de kitchen," Remy remarked. "Figured dis little outin' go smoother if I borrow dem, den we can all pass."


Clean up duty fell to Hank and Ororo. The kitchen was silent, the air crackling with tension.

"You've gotten awfully friendly with Remy lately," Hank said flatly.

"What's wrong? You can't be jealous, not when you broke up with me," Ororo replied icily.

"Hardly, get involved with him, see if I care. For all his looks and flirting Remy's still jailbait," Hank snapped. "I was simply observing that, considering the fact that you despised him less than a week ago you've become terribly chummy. Doesn't that indicate anything to you?"

"The Professor didn't force me to become interested in you," Ororo practically growled. "If he had he'd hardly let you go on acting like this now would he?"

"He's changed since we had to kill his son," Hank said.

"But not so much that he would refrain from altering my feeling toward Remy," Ororo said sarcastically. "That makes all sorts of sense."

"Looking like this where else am I going to go?" Hank demanded gesturing to his blue furred form. "Remy may still leave, especially if someone where acting hostile."

"You could always join the Brotherhood," Ororo shot back.

"What a logical reason do you have for your abrupt about face with regards to Remy?" Hank demanded.

"Fine," Ororo said shortly. "Do you know why I initially disliked him? He reminded me of what I used to be. I was a pickpocket back in Morocco you know, or maybe you didn't bother to listen when I told you that. I used to love to sneak into movies; they formed my dreams. I probably watched "Gone in Sixty Seconds" twenty times before I couldn't resist the temptation. I stowed away on a ship and came to America to become a big time auto thief. I got caught in under two months. Then I came here and found something to believe in. If the Professor has changed me, I don't care! I like the person I've become here. I remember the cynical little witch I used to be and she seems so empty. The more I use my powers the more connected I feel to the world. It's so much broader than I ever could have imagined, so much more glorious. I am so much more than I ever realized. I didn't want to acknowledge how much like Remy I truly was. It felt like stepping backward. Then I realized I could help him take a step forwards and I want that."

"You just had an epiphany on the subject?" Hank asked.

"I realized it Hank. I can analyze my reactions and figure out when I'm making a mistake, even if I'm not the genius you are. However, I must say conspiracy theories are best left to the lunatic fringe, unless that's the group you're looking to join."


Jean laid her hand of cards on the table. "This isn't working," she announced. "I'm supposed to be sweet and help convince you of our sincerity, but lets be honest. I can't trust you because you won't let me scan you and you can't trust me because trusting people isn't in your nature."

"Yo' call it trust when yo' got to rifle through a homme's head firs'?" Remy asked. "Got a little secret for yo' chere, yo' every bit as suspicious and paranoid as Remy, yo' just got a means of getting 'round it."


Scott joined Logan on the back porch where the older man had retreated to smoke without the vehement protests and possible telekinetic intervention he would have faced if he'd tried lighting up in the house.

"I would want to be in your place if you get caught giving Remy cigars again," Scott commented.

"I didn't GIVE it to him," Logan replied darkly. "And he ain't going to try a trick like that again."

"I guess I should be too surprised," Scott said. "There isn't a single pack of cards left in the house and you know where they've gone."

"That's different," Logan said. "He's just make sure he can protect himself with the cards."

"How much protection does he need?" Scott asked. "I'm certain there used to be at least six decks laying around the mansion, that's over three hundred bombs in Remy's hands and we're trying to be his friends. I mean I like him, or I want to like anyway. He needs us, this, as badly as anyone I've ever seen, but I think he's more scare of people who want to help him than the ones out to kill him!"

"There may be a little overkill going on," Logan acknowledged. "But trouble's coming and he's in the middle of it."

"Is that why you've been sticking so close since he got here?" Scott asked.

"Been looking forward to cashing in that rain check I got last time," Logan allowed.