On the small screen lurid pink energy was reflected back off Colossus' metallic skin and glinted off of Wolverine's extended claws. The pair formed a defensive shield, holding off all challengers while Gambit forced enough of his charge into the barrels of poison to not just blow them up but to break the chemicals compounds down into their harmless constiuatants.

The camera closed in on Gambit as the boy swayed with the strain of pushing up against the limits Xavier had set on his powers. Then the image, highlighting both Remy's age and the slowly fading burns curving around the side his face.

The picture reduced in size allowing the news anchor center stage as the reiterated the facts in the Drake's case against Xavier and Mrs. Drake's concerns other children being hurt at the school.

In Xavier's office Peter Rasputin flinched guiltily. Logan snorted and turned off the TV, "That's the media for ya. Where were they when a pack of killers were hunting Remy across the country."

"That isn't the current issue," Xavier said. "While normally I applaud your and Peter's efforts in patrolling the city, as well as attempts to draw Remy into the group, I have to question the wisdom of combining the two. Especially now and to do so before the eyes of the media?"

"We weren't planning on stumbling onto an Acolytes' plot," Logan pointed out. "And how were we supposed to know that they were going to be filming a 'Cops' special in that neighborhood?"

Xavier sighed. "My apologies Logan. I know many of last night's circumstances were outside of your control. Unfortunately that Drake woman is insisting that Social Services look into Remy's case.

"Remy doesn't have a family he can be sent home to," Peter said frowning in confusion. "What can they do?"

"At this point they simply wish to speak with him," Xavier said, his features twisting with distaste. "At their offices, they believe he'll be more willing to speak freely away from the school."

Logan looked over Remy critically. "Loose the coat, you're trying to make a good impression," he said.

"Why do I got to do dis?" Remy whined, reluctantly complying.

"They're looking for a reason to take you out of the school," Logan explained. "They're trying to contact your parents."

"Bet dey have loads of luck findin' someone willin' to claim dat honor," Remy said with a smirk that didn't quite manage to cover the old hurt in his eyes.

"You lie about your name, bub?" Logan asked reaching out to straighten the collar of Remy's shirt.

"Not 'xactly," Remy replied batting his hand away. "But dere be no birth certificate dat says Remy Lebeau on it. I 'spect m' parents 'll take 'vantage of dat."

"I'm sorry it's like that," Logan said. "Still you've got to take this seriously. They're pretty set on giving you some sort of legal guardian and if they can't find your parents and the social worker decides you're in danger here they'll place you in a foster home."

"If dey t'ink I stay anywhere I don' want dey got a surprise coming," Remy said darkly.

"Look Rem, they can't make you do anything you don't want to. We know that even if it ain't had a chance to soak in for them," Logan sighed. "But for the rest of our sakes be on your best behavior. Bobby's parents really want this place shut down. I know you and Chuck ain't on the best terms. Hell, I don't agree with his reasons for screwing with your head myself. Still his dream, mutants and humans in harmony, not at each other's throats, it's a good one. Don't give them the excuse to shut us down that they're looking for, 'kay?"

"An' leave m'self easy pickin's for Sinister?" Remy replied. He glanced in the hall mirror then complained, "I don't even look like me. I want m' trench coat."

Logan found he couldn't disagree with that. With sunglasses hiding his eyes, Remy's hair grown out less than two inches since the fight with Sinister, dressed in new jeans and a button down shirt, Remy truly didn't look like himself. Of course none of that changed the way the boy carried himself. Fight or flight was never far from the surface of Remy's mind. "Looking respectable ain't the end of the world kid," Logan said after a moment. "And in this instance it won't hurt none either. Don't worry, you'll out grow it."

"I look like a chile," Remy protested. "One who's mere picked out his clothes."

"You calling me a mother hen Cajun?" Logan asked with a short bark of laughter.

"If de label fits," Remy said innocently. "Still don't see what was wrong wid m' normal t'ings."

"Stop your bitchin' and get a move on it, you don't want to be late."

Scott walked into the room, arms crossed over his chest glaring at Logan from behind his quartz glasses. "If you really cared you wouldn't have gotten Remy in this mess in the first place," he said his voice hard.

"You got no business dictating how I act Summers," Logan snarled. "Or deciding who I'm good enough for."

Remy fidgeted uncomfortably, reminding himself he wasn't actually the cause of the animosity that that choked the air between the two men, merely the excuse at hand to bring it to the surface."

"Come on Remy, car's waiting," Scott said disdaining to respond to Logan.

"Yo' drivin'?" Remy asked, hoping he didn't sound upset.

"Yep, they specified no telepaths and the Professor thought it would look better if your escort wasn't a know assassin, Peter's out and Hank won't go out in public so that leaves me. Besides I've been meaning to talk with you for quite awhile, but something always seems to come up."

Remy shot Logan a pleading look.

"He just wants to apologize for being an ass," Logan said. "So I ain't gonna help you avoid him."

Scott's expression betrayed surprise at Logan's support.

"I'm not petty enough to drag the kid into the middle of you and I's fightin' about Jeanie," Logan said shortly, then left.

Remy walked outside and got in the car.

"Actually, I don't want to apologize again," Scott said quietly as they drove. "I know you were only pretending to be asleep all those times in the infirmary when I tried to talk to you. I want you to talk to me. I want to know what I have to do to make it up to you."

"Yo' got nothin' to 'pologize for," Remy said staring out the window. "Yo' were right, I should of know. I got all dose people killed. Yo' don' have to 'pologize for de truth."

"Remy I had no business saying that. I told you I was the idiot flying the get-away jet after the Brotherhood blew up the Parliament and MIG Building in London, you think I didn't get people killed there? And I did know better, I knew exactly what Magneto and the rest of them were."

"So yo' got blood on your hands too, dat supposed to make me feel bettah?" Remy asked angrily. "Rien makes me feel bettah. I jus' want to forget it evah happened but yo' keep tryin' to talk to me 'bout it. Yo' surprised I been 'voidin' yo'?"

"I'm sorry Remy," Scott said. "I thought you were upset about the stuff I said, the truth is it wasn't really your fault, you just got caught in the middle."

"I said I don' want to talk 'bout dis!" Remy practically yelled.

"Okay, I won't ever bring it up again, but we're still friends right?"

"Dat be yo' or Xavier talkin' mon frere?" Remy asked without looking toward Scott.

"I'm so sick of this whole conspiracy thing!" Scott exploded unexpectedly. "We're all going to drive ourselves insane questioning everything we feel and think. It's already tearing Ororo and Hank apart. You think the rest of us should join them? Or can we just call it good and realize that Xavier might be the most powerful telepath on the planet, but even he can't have the time, energy or inclination to fix each and every thought in our heads!"

Remy looked taken aback, after a few moments he asked. "What yo' want from me?"

"It's simple really," Scott said. "I want you to believe that I want to be your friend, that no one is making me say that, and that I don't have ulterior motives, okay?"

"Why don' yo' jus' ask for de moon and stars while yo' be at it?" Remy replied with a touch of self-mockery in his voice.

"I forgot who I was talking to," Scott said with a grin. "Go ahead and assume I've got ulterior movies so long as you believe they're MY ulterior motives and no one else's."

"An' what motives should I assume?" Remy asked reluctantly returning Scott's smile.

"How about I figure if I hang around you long enough I might just pick up that accent of yours. It's got to have something to do with the way girls drool over you," Scott replied.

"Yo' ain't got de attitude to make it work mon ami," Remy laughed. " 'Sides Jean strikes me as de possessive type, yo' sure yo' even want to t'ink 'bout other femmes?"

"I just want to make sure that I can upstage whatever it was that attracted her to Logan," Scott muttered to himself. "We're almost there," he said more loudly. "They're going to ask about the burns and I know Sinister's being after you is the biggest reason keeping you in Westchester, but you probably shouldn't say anything about fighting him. Tell 'em it was an accident with your powers, that might scare them out of trying to take you away," Scott advised.

"An' tellin' dem I got a homicidal megalomaniac wid superpowers after me won'?" Remy asked. "Honnete, Scotty anybody wantin' to keep me close be either crazy or suicidal."

"Hey, I resemble that," Scott joked. "Seriously though I don't want to give them anything they could use against us. And we shouldn't have let Sinister get that close to you."

"Yo' notice me complainin' 'bout dat?" Remy asked. "I got to hurt de connard, be happier 'bout dat den most anyt'ing. Jus' wish I'd managed to kill him. Yo' 'member dat 'tomic 'xplosion M. Henri t'inks I could make? Mebbe it be wort' it if it arret him."

"Remy!" Scott protested.

"A'ight, I blew m'self up in an accident," Remy said.

"Thanks," Scott replied. "At least you're healing clean. If this had waited another month or so I doubt the scars would have even been visible."

"An' den we couldn' of used tales m' dangerous an' out of control powers to scare dem off," Remy said with a pragmatic shrug.

"We're here," Scott said.

Remy's mouth twisted unhappily as Scott parked in front of an ugly, utilitarian office building. "Why I have to do dis? Dey be a bunch of hypocrites!"

Scott did a double take at that. "You've never even met them," he said.

"Did so, had three different teachers try to send dem out to talk wid m' parents. After de first one got a look at me dey be full of 'scuses. Yo' lot be de only ones to evah give me de help I need widout payment. An' now, after I been taken care of m'self for four years, after leaving me to deal wid de likes of Sinister widout dere help, dey wanna protect me from yo'? Fuck that!" Remy exclaimed.

Scott sighed, "Well they didn't have Emily Drake hounding them before. That woman can reduce Wolverine to stammering," Scott said. "Come on its time to go. Remember to be nice."

"What de camera be for?" Remy demanded hanging back in the office doorway.

"We wanted a record of our conversation to insure no one alters our perceptions later," the man said waving Remy in. "Considering Xavier's history we're quite concerned about your safety there."

Remy's eyes glowed hotly, visible even through his shades.

The social worker gulped. "P-please, have a seat," he stuttered.

Remy walked out smirking; the social worker came over to Scott and shook the bewildered X-Man's hand enthusiastically. "Such an honor to meet you," he gushed. "So sorry to waste your time like this. We're so impressed by you're efforts on Remy's behalf."

"Thanks," Scott said flatly as he and Remy walked out of the office he murmured, "You charmed him didn't you?"

"De socks off his feet and de brains out of his head," Remy confirmed. "De later wasn' hard t'all."

"I thought you were morally opposed to stuff like that?" Scott asked sarcastically. "And you know it's going to wear off."

Remy shrugged. "He's de one dat started wid de fake emotions, I jus' figured if he's so fond of dem he might as well fake de t'ings I want him to feel, non?"