[identity profile] x-gambit.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] xp_logs
After nearly killing/being killed by Wisdom in Hong Kong, Remy finally returns to the mansion to talk to Xavier. To hide his involvement, Xavier does not have the answers that Remy needs, and things rapidly continue their downward spiral.

It had been thirty-six hours. Remy had gone from despondency to rage to calculated acceptance. Getting the hell kicked out of him by Wisdom hadn't improved his attitudes, but it did tend to focus his mind.

One thing Remy was not known for was taking things in a relaxed manner, as he pushed through the doors of the library. Xavier had recieved the e-mail about the urgent meeting, and was in place as the younger man stormed through the door.

Xavier glanced up at Remy, taking the intel head's injuries and attitude both in stride. Motioning to a nearby chair, he simply nodded his head. "Sit."

"Non. Too much to do, too much to say." Remy walked right past the chair and put both hands on the front of Xavier's desk. "We in de point of intelligence meltdown, Professeur. Wisdom has access to our entire network, and we not keeping up. I'm starting JERICHO dis week."

"Yes, very efficient. Now sit down, Remy." Xavier's voice was cordial, but in a tone suggesting that the Professor was not to be trifled with. "I haven't seen anything from the doctors concerning your recent injuries. I believe this may be due to the fact that you have unscrupulously avoided them."

"Dat has nothing to do wit' dis." Remy shook his head. "We facing a total loss of our operational security. Remy don' even want to look 'bout what else dat's coming down. Everything dat Betsy knows is now in de open, and dat's most of everything."

Xavier slapped his hand flat on the desk, leaning towards Remy with his brow furrowed in consternation. "And if you run yourself ragged, injured and beaten, what then? Can you assure me your judgement will remain sound? Your dedication is admirable but I question your, pardon me, wisdom."

Leaning back, Xavier pivoted to look out the window of his study. "We are at a perilous precipice, Remy. One of my teachers is out there, perhaps gone rogue, perhaps influenced by one of my enemies. She has kidnapped one of my students - I do not believe I need to elaborate on the potential that a gift like John Henry Forge's could be in the wrong hands." He sighed, lacing his fingers together over his lap. "We cannot go to ground, Remy. I need our intelligence at its highest capacity right now. I need you at your best."

"Dat's kind of pointless when we still feeding our intelligence to de ones dat are trying to kill us." Remy shot back hotly. "Wisdom is de enemy, Professeur. Luck de only risen dat my head not on a plate for Shaw right now. And everytime I tell you dat we need to shut down de people giving him information, you give me any excuse why we can't."

It didn't take a telepath to catch the rage in Remy. "Your best friend decided to take Lorna, and Remy not heard you make a real decision on dat either."

Xavier simply turned his head, looking out onto the garden. "Erik has attempted to sway my students before. And each time, he has failed. Yet..." He clenched his hands into fists briefly, then calmed himself, turning to face Remy. Gone was the impassioned crusader, now the calm and collected headmaster was on display.

"There are lengths we shall not go to, lines we shall not cross. You know what I will not countenance, Remy. But whatever steps you must take to bring Lorna and John Henry home, you must take them. And the consequences shall be on both our heads."

"Non, dey not. Dey on de heads of dose dat help us." Remy was twitching, angry and uncompromising. "Wisdom is a danger and you won't let us even stop de intelligence dat he using against us. Lorna is gone, and you playing like dere some rules here. Merde! We are losing, Charles!"

"Then you play by different rules, Remy. Do not tell me this is an impossible task." Charles gave an inscrutable smile. "When you came here, you were a confused young man with an uncontrollable compulsion to murder and mayhem. Some would say overcoming that was impossible. I believe it merely sets a precedent. So I ask you, if we cut off the assets that Wisdom could conceivably access - if we close every conceivable gate to him, can you assure me that you will have more success tomorrow? Or are you promising the impossible?"

"He's killing dem!" Remy finally blurted out, rage twisting his face. "Our people! One after another and I'm de one sending dem to die! Every time you stop me from stopping it. It was one of ours dat he twisted for Betsy. One for Meggan." Remy sagged. "I promised dem dat we'd protect dem. And now he's dead."

"Pete Wisdom did a great many things for our intelligence network," Xavier said quietly, "and many of them are now bringing the wolves to our door. But one thing he never did was offer me despondency and excuses. I do not ask you to be the man Pete Wisdom was, Remy. I ask you to be better. You have seen Wisdom's game, and I assure you, he is capable of more deviousness and subterfuge than I care to conceive. And if you feel your hands are tied, if you feel that the only way to protect our people is by resorting to his methods..." Xavier spread his hands in surrender, "...then I was mistaken when I put my faith in Remy LeBeau. I should perhaps have assigned this role to Gambit instead."

Remy went white. If it hadn't been for the years of training, the waves of shock and horror would of driven Xavier back. His knuckles went white as he barely controled the violence inside him.

"Wisdom is killing men dat I convinced to work for us. Magneto had taken Lorna. I've told you how to stop dese leaks without killing, and you keep telling me dat you have things under control." Remy leaned forward. "You asking me to send dem to dere deaths!"

"I am asking you to do your job, Remy." Xavier said firmly. "I believe I have things under control. I believe my control is you."

Remy hung his head, hands spasming beside him. It was with great care that he pulled the cards from the pocket of his jacket and tossed them on to the desk. "Non. You don't."

There was a long pause as Remy wrestled with his thoughts, and he finally leaned over the desk towards Xavier. "You don't see dese people. Dere widows. Remy does. And Remy not going to let you make me a murderer again. I'm going to find Lorna and dat Forge. Bring den out safe. After dat, Remy going to make his own way. I'm done getting people killed for you."

Xavier might have had a retort, but Gambit had turned sharply and stalked out of the room. The blood was thick on his hands, and each second longer here, the scent of death choked him further. There was a dead space in him, so bleak he wanted to collapse around it. But Lorna was out there, and Forge, and too many others. He'd bring them out, and only after that could he allow himself to break.

The fury continued all the way to his office. Betsy and Jake likely wouldn't understand. Hell, he barely understood. A man as intelligent as the Professor should understand the dangers of the situation that they were in. Wisdom was kidnapping and attempting to kill students and X-Men, Magneto was running rampant, having taken likely two of the people who lived here as hostages. In the midst of this, Xavier seemed unwilling to allow him to staunch the bleeding, merely to continue feeding men into the flames without regard to their lives. Sick suspecion existed along side the dread. He'd believed that Charles wasn't the same as the bastards who had turned him into Gambit; he had to believe that or face an abyss of doubt.

The only certainity Remy LeBeau had was that he was never going back to that. Even if it meant leaving the only thing like a family he'd ever known, he couldn't face the risk of going back to being the man that supplied his nightmares. It was too high a price to pay for family, if it meant being the murderer again. That made it slightly easier to toss his access information on to Betsy's files. He did stop at the red file sitting on his desk, and opened it.

After twenty minutes of engrossed reading, he put the file carefully back down. The woman had done it. Whether Betsy knew it or not, she'd found the Brotherhood. Pieces from a dozen sources finelly clicked in his head.

They were in Tampa.

Remy sat down at his desk. There were a dozen perperations to confirm the remaining information; a flurry of contacts, money and questions to make sure. A plane ticket to prepare. Unlike the last six months, this time he wasn't going to fail people. This time, he wasn't going to lose.

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