Madelyn, Remy - Infectia

[x-madelyn.livejournal.com]

Madelyn's investigations of Hank's mystery date have lead to a dead end. There's one person who can help: some things are more important than personal differences.



It wasn't easy, admitting she'd reached the point where she couldn't do anything more, but Madelyn was getting better at that, over the months. The thing about the school, it had a habit of reminding her of her limitations. However, the other thing about the school was that there were always people who could do what she couldn't. Even if they were annoying Cajuns. This was bigger than personal issues. Steeling herself for the inevitable sneering, Madelyn knocked on the door of the office that had been Pete's, but was now being used by Remy.

"Oui, come in." Remy said, not looking up from the pile of papers. Breaking into Pete's office was likely not something the Professor would approve of, but no one had said anything since he jimmied the lock three days ago and planted himself behind the desk. Stacks of notes, paperwork, and printouts surrounded him in wide drifts, broken up by the occasional meals that Clarice, Lorna, and a shattered looking Amanda brought to him.

Madelyn did as she was bid, closing the door behind her and approaching the desk, but not sitting down. She knew she looked exhausted - she was - but right now she didn't care if they looked like a weakness of not. "I need your help," she said without preamble, hands resting on the back of one of the chairs to stop them shaking.

Remy looked up once, scrutinizing her for a moment before going back to his reading. "If it not life or death, it can wait." He said dismissively. If he didn't find Wisdom fast, this entire situation was going to get violently and fatally out of hand. He didn't know what Bartlett wanted, likely to yell at him about still breathing or something, and didn't have to energy to spare.

"Well, funny you should say that, but it _is_ life or death." Madelyn's voice shook on the last word a little, and she reined herself in tightly. "It's Hank. You know he's not well, yes?"

"De bête blue? Oui, saw something on de journals." Remy paused halfway through a document, her words finally settling in. "De sickness is dat bad?"

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak for a minute, before breathing in sharply. "This thing he has... it's re-writing his DNA. It's targetting his brain first, which is why he's losing his intelligence and his impulse control - those neural pathways aren't working any more. But it's not stopping there, it's taking away his higher emotions, his ability to process information, including what his senses are telling him... If we don't stop it, it'll kill him." Madelyn saw the inevitable remark about not being a doctor rising to his lips and went on. "But the thing is, I don't think it's an illness. There's no virus no injury, no reason for this to be happening... Except a month ago he had an encounter with this woman, and I think she might have done something to him."

"Henri had an encounter wit' a femme and it's killing him. Dat's not hard to believe." Remy rubbed his eyes wearily. "So, tell me what dis Black Dahlia did to him? Poison?"

Madelyn shook her head. "No, that'd show up under analysis. Whatever this is... there's no trace. I think it might be some kind of mutant power - after the date, Hank told me this woman had kissed him, and then seemed almost disappointed and angry. LIke something had gone wrong. And he started feeling ill not long after that."

"It's pretty thin, Madelyn." Remy shook his head. "Dere not anything measureable on de homme?" Lebeau wasn't about to discount possibilities, but this sounded like grasping at straws by the doctor; a reaction to a sickness that she couldn't fix, so she was trying to pin it on an 'inexplicable' source.

"I know it sounds like nothing, but there's more. I went digging, trying to get a trace on this woman. Even if she didn't deliberately cause this, maybe she was a carrier for something else, right? Hank said she was a geneticist, but I couldn't find any record of her working where she'd said she did, or even having a medical degree. And then I got my friend in the NYPD to run her name through the system - turns out it was an alias." Madelyn's tone grew more confident as she went on. "I picked up her image from the security cameras, and traced her to a cab driver after she left Hank, and from there a hotel. She'd booked in under another assumed name, and left in a hurry that night. Not exactly the movements of someone who doesn't have something to hide." She shrugged a little. "And the same night she left, a bellboy disappeared, last seen helping her with her bags."

"Dat's a little more solid." Remy finally started listening. If she was right, then this was a definite operational profile, and could be involved with de la Rocha. "Sit down over here, and run through de data from de top." He pointed to a chair near the desk and fired up his laptop, now where Wisdom's had been; a disappearance that continuely worried him.

Madelyn slumped rather than sat, pushing her hair back out of her face. "Hank had a date, about a month ago. Not long before the Mistra operation in Canada. It went as I said - she kissed him, got angry, and stormed off. Hank thought she was revolted by him - he was trying to drink himself into a stupor. He also said he'd felt nauseous and dizzy - at the time we chalked it up to too much to drink, but I know Hank. He doesn't drink overmuch when he's on a date. He was tired and sick the next day, but again, we thought it was a hangover. Then the Mistra mission happened, and we figured it was their neural disruptor that was affecting him - he took a couple of hits from her. But Nathan's ruled that out - her powers don't work that way."

"So dere is nothing dat could be doing dis physiologically?" Remy stressed, surprising her with the term. "Not a drug in de system, nanotechnology, hell, even a magic curse? You get dat Forge and 'manda on dis to take a look at him?"

Madelyn shook her head. "Moira's run him through every test she can think of, and she can't find anything. Neither can Amanda or Forge. There's the anomalies to his genetic structure, and that's it."

"So we looking for dis femme because dere not a dman thing else dat can keep him from dying. Remy hate desperation plans." LeBeau shook his head. The ricin used on Wisdom's father, now an unknown vector on McCoy, the Brood; there were days that he was positive that Gambit had the right way to do things.

"When do we have anything else around here?" Madelyn let a brief wry smile slip through, before getting serious again. "I managed to bluff my way into getting the details of the credit card she paid the hotel bill with, and another for the cab. Probably stolen, but I'm guessing she's still using them. The bellboy disappearing... that doesn't strike me as the action of a smart criminal type, and if she doesn't think she's being pursued, then she'll continue the way she has. The problem is, I can't get access to the credit card company records - I can fool a hotel manager or a cab driver I'm still an agent, but I can't convince the companies to let me have access to those. And since the evidence is so thin, my contacts can't help me."

"Pass me over de bill." Remy clicked a few buttons on his laptop. "You lucky dat instead of Math, Remy got taught credit card scams at de age of eight." He starting tapping keys, pausing only to take the card slip and key in the information.

"That's why I came to you - I figured you'd have resources I wouldn't." Madelyn passed over the two bills and watched him work.

"Non. You came to me because you know dat Remy was a criminal. You also came bacause you know dat I'm willing to go out and do horrible things to get de information you need to save Henri dat you can't bring yourself to do." Remy said dispassionately as he typed.

Madelyn's expression tightened, and she bit back the immediate retort. "That's true," she said evenly. "But I also came to you because this isn't something the team can help with. Hell, I'm not even positive there's something for anyone to deal with, but if we track this woman down, ask her what happened, then I can eliminate her as a cause. And because I know there are some things the team shouldn't get involved in, whether because they don't have theh training or the skills, or even the right mindset."

"All for de protection of de team. Hmm... wish I'd have thought of dat. Makes a good excuse." Remy needled. The fact was, down to the bone, he didn't like cops, and Bartlett took that part of herself very seriously. She was justifying this, he figured, and her attitude bugged him. He'd been a monster, and hadn't tried to make it seem any better by claiming it was for the good of the US or anything. The screen popped up. "Dere's de bitch."

"Well, if you want to see someone like Lorna come to grief because she's involved with something she's not equipped to handle, be my guest..." Madelyn began, too tired and too damned stressed to take Remy's jabs lying down, before reminding herself Hank didn't need her squabbling with the Cajun. "She's still using the card?" she asked, leaning over to look at the monitor.

"Course she is. Six locations in de last month. Must have another couple of cards as backup just in case. Just using dem at random, to beat de credit card company automatic alerts." Remy scrolled down. "Still in Manhattan. Let me see a few things. Oh, and ever try to guilt me using Lorna again, and its de last time you get to talk to me. Ever. Understand?" His eyes only flickered back to her for a second, but it was enough to see the utterly merciless light in them.

She returned the look as blandly as she could. "Understood," she replied flatly, before turning her attention to the screen again. "When and where was the last time she used one of these?"

"Quiet. Remy checking something." A row of columns flashed by on the screen, and a pop-up window appeared. Remy opened up a database, scrolled for several minutes before selecting a long series of numerals and populating it into the pop-up. The box disappeared, and a mono-coloured Telnet system screen opened. Remy keyed in the number Madelyn recognized as the credit card number into the screen, and hit enter. "Now, we wait."

Madelyn sat back, crossing her arms over her front. "So... You've been working on this Pete situation?" she hazarded, knowing she'd get a scathing reply, but deciding to ask any way.

"Looking for de batard, oui. Unfortunately, a fact dat de X-Men seem to ignore is dat Wisdom is one of de leading operatives on dis planet, and dat means he's especially good at not being found when he doesn't want to be." Remy said tiredly, ignoring for now the question of what to do after he found Wisdom, knowing the likely result.

"Apart from Nathan, Sean and maybe Scott, the X-Men as a whole have had very little contact with the kind of world Pete comes from. And if they have to think about it overmuch it scares them. So it's easier to think of Pete as that quirky guidance counsellor rather than the man who was trained to assassinate for the British government," Madelyn said quietly. "Especially since that means there might not be a good resolution to all this."

"Either Wisdom or de la Rocha is going to die. Dat's de only resolution here. Trying to put de X-men in de way is just asking for more casualties." Remy said sourly, repeating the arguments that had been already ignored. He was going to say something else when his computer chimed.

"Result?" Madelyn asked, raising her eyebrow.

"De joys of de New York Hospitality Billing Intranet Service. You put down a card for a hotel as security. De catch is dat until dey charge de card, it won't show up on a merchant credit card account, wit Visa or whatever." Remy opened the search function and started a query. "But a good percentage of de hotels use an amalgamated database to store de cards until de person checks out, so even if you paying cash, dere is a record here. And your Miss Emmentine Coli is currently staying in room 1721 in de Wyndham Towers, Manhattan."

"E. Coli... Oh for the love of God..." Madelyn rolled her eyes even as she leaned forward eagerly. "When did she check in? Can you tell? From what I've seen of her movements, she changes locations every three or four days."

"Day before last, just after eight." Remy said, instinctive flinching away from contact as she leaned in past him. "Sneaky salope... ordered room service, but reversed de charge back to de room 'fore processing. Someone else is looking for her, femme, and she knows it."

"Then it's a good thing we found her first, before they drove her completely underground, whoever they are." Madelyn frowned. Day before last. "She'll be on the move again soon - we'll have to move fast if we want to question her about this whole thing." Without realising it, she was slipping into law enforcement mode. "And if she's being tracked and knows it, she'll abscond as soon as there's any kind of ruckus, so that leaves the X-Men out. Especially if she's changed her appearance at all - we wouldn't know who we were looking for until she'd already slipped past."

"Maybe you should call de police." Remy said dryly, moving a little further away from her as she tapped at his laptop, thinking out loud about how to catch her.

She rolled her eyes at him. "And tell them what exactly? I think this woman's kissing with malicious intent? They'd have her up on the credit card fraud and whatever else, without me being able to talk to her about Hank, and then he's screwed." Moving back finally, she gave Remy a long, considering look. "You said it yourself, the X-Men aren't able to cope with this sort of thing. You are. Will you help me?" she asked at last. "If she's a mutant, me going in alone would be massively stupid."

"Go after a possible dangerous mutant with no evidence of her wrong doing with de intent of making her admit to her crime? Wouldn't dat be illegal?" Remy smirked as she flushed red and angry. "Sound like fun. Remy go get his torture kit."



Investigations lead to a hotel, and the mystery woman. She's not exactly super-villain material, but that doesn't make her any the less dangerous.



"And there's your key. I hope you enjoy your stay with us here at the Wyndham Towers, Mr and Mrs… Mulder?" The hotel's manager gave them a quizzical look.

Madelyn barely suppressed the eye roll. "You wouldn't believe how many jokes we get about that," she said brightly, slipping her arm through Remy's as he took the key. Inwardly she was cursing the man's sense of humour. "The number of times I've been called Scully…"

The blonde woman gave an obliging chuckle, no real sincerity to it. "Oh, I just bet. Any way, enjoy your stay with us."

"Merci." Remy said absently as they strolled over to
the elevator.

"Mulder?"

"De truth is out dere, but de lies are all inside your head." He was tracking around constantly, taking in the whole environment, even the ostensibly safe lobby. Madelyn tugged him to the right slightly, near the first door, pulling his attention back to her.

"Is there a plan?"

"I figured dat we go up. Remy kills everyone while you raid the minibar, and we adjourn to de bridal suite," Remy leaned close to her ear with a vicious grin and finished his sentence just loud enough to be heard. "-darling."

Madelyn smiled back winsomely. "Frisky are we, sweetheart? Isn't Viagra amazing?" she replied, as several passengers exited the elevator. There were titters from two attractive young women in business suits. As the doors slid closed behind them, she pulled away from him slightly. "I hope you were joking about the killing," she said, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Alright. You kill everyone while Remy raids de minibar." Remy reached into his trenchcoat and slipped out the segmented titanium staff, retracted to its three foot recessed length. He wasn't sure exactly what they were walking into, but it paid to be cautious.

Madelyn gave the staff an slightly-envious look - while she wasn't a staff fighter, she admired the efficiency of the weapon, and the simplicity of its design. As unobtrusively as possible, she unclipped the restraining strap on her gun holster, knowing Remy would take in the movement but hoping he would keep his comments to himself. No way she was going to go into this sort of thing unarmed. And the dart gun wasn't exactly what she needed here - people couldn't talk when they were asleep, and the fuzzy end of the dart poking out of the chamber really took away from the threat factor.

The hallway was fortunately empty when the doors slid open, the elevator's cheerful little ping sounding too loud in the plain hallway.

"Stay behind me." Remy muttered as he moved out into the hall. There were basic monitoring cameras inset into the ceiling, but they were designed more to catch traffic flow in emergencies, and not an actual security measure. It was simple enough to slip the wall outside the viewing arc and reach the door.

Their target room had the DO NOT DISTURB sign clipped to the doorknob, and Remy turned it slowly, confirming that it was locked. It was the standard hotel door; keycode access only. He scowled as he fished through his pockets, looking for the skeleton keycard he'd dug out of one of his stashes.

Watching from her position to the side of the door, Madelyn scanned the hallway for any awkward passersby, one ear open for the 'ping!' of the elevator. She kept herself still, her breathing even, despite the rising impatience - no point starting yet another round of 'more professional than thou'. At last he found the card and slid it into the slot, and there was a click as the lock disengaged and the light flashed green. Remy reached for the doorknob...

The door was yanked open, and a massive figure filled the doorway. It looked vaguely like a golem - a huge, near-featureless, vaguely man-shaped creature. It looked down at them for an instant, then let out a wordless, growling roar and attacked, swinging its great fists at Remy's head.

Somewhere behind it, there was a definitely feminine squeak of alarm, and a crash as something was dropped or kicked over.

Madelyn paused only for a fraction of a second, dodging back as the creature bore Remy backwards, leaving the doorway clear. Let the trained assassin deal with the distraction, someone needed to go after their quarry. Slipping inside the room, gun drawn, she glanced around, taking in the empty room and the curtains fluttering in the open sliding doorway onto the balcony. A female voice, obviously swearing, could be heard from the figure half-visible through the filmy curtains. One suspect, attempting an escape.

Remy leaned back as the massive fists just brushed him, moving at remarkable speed. The bastard was big, and fast, and if the grey bulging muscles were any indication, strong. Madelyn rushed past him, eliminating his scope of movement, and he had time for one strangled 'merde' when the creature grabbed his lapels, and spun, throwing him through the living room wall.

Remy exploded through into the bedroom in a shower of drywall. He hit the carpet hard, skidding several paces and stopping flopped on his back. He coughed dryly, trying to clear the spots from his vision. Without the plastic lacing, his ribs and shoulders would have easily been broken. Even so, every part of him ached as he heard the lumbering of the creature towards him.

The creature didn't move very fast, but it plodded relentlessly towards Remy, flat black eyes expressionless. It had been told to get rid of anyone who tried to come in that door, and that's what it would do. Disobedience was impossible even to think of. The man would be killed, as She commanded. It reached for his head, large fingers spread to grasp and crush.

Back over by the balcony, the woman who thought of herself as Infectia cursed again, yanking away from the little chair whose arm had caught in her skirt, hearing fabric rip as she pulled away. Forget it. There were people here, and she was going to GO, and let the Antibody handle it. It was nearly worn out, anyway, she'd have to make another one. She could spare this one... and then she saw the red-headed woman bearing down on her and yelped, making a dash for the low railing she already knew she could climb over.

Madelyn winced at the crash behind her, glancing back to see the creature stooping over Remy. 'Oh, crap,' she thought, torn between grabbing the woman who was about to climb over the balcony railing and inch her way to the next hotel room, and helping Remy. She could put a bullet in it somewhere, but firing on a target looming over your erstwhile ally was a really bad tactical move, especially considering the said ally had superfast reflexes and could probably end up in the bullet's path. Making her mind up, she lunged at the woman who had one leg over the railing, grabbing a firm handful of dark hair and yanking her bodily back and into the suite, ignoring the outraged shrieks.

Infectia howled, trying to kick and stumbling, slapping ineffectually at Madelyn's hands. "Owww! Get OFF, you stupid bitch!" she howled, sure that half of her hair was going to be pulled right out. "Stop it! Let go!"

"No, I really don't think so," Madelyn replied, giving the woman's hair an extra tug. As she'd expected, the ruckus was drawing the attention of the creature looming over Remy, and it half-rose, intent on freeing its mistress.

Remy shook his head clear as the thing paused and turned away from him. He rolled backwards, coming smoothly to his feet in one motion and gaining some distance on the Antibody. It turned back, swinging massive fists which were like child's play to avoid. It had fast reflexes, but no sense of technique at all, employing wild haymakers that could crush a man's skull if they connected.

Remy's powers made it astonishingly easy to make sure they didn't. He danced around the swings, coming in with hardened kete strikes and knife hands which thudded into the form with dull sounds. The thing didn't even slow, releasing another flurry of attacks and driving Remy further back. LeBeau mentally filed 'no killing' out of his battle plan and stepped inside a blow, slamming his knuckles into the thing's throat with a wet pop as the windpipe crumpled.

"Dat is--" The thing grabbed him again. "More den one windpipe? No fair--" The last word dopplered as it flung Remy again. He hit the table top and slammed explosively into the large gilt mirror, sending out glass fragments like shrapnel and littered the floor where he flopped on to.

"Kill him!" Infectia shrieked, flailing at the vicious redheaded cow who was dragging on her hair. "And then her!" She kicked Madelyn in the shin, and whimpered... she'd forgotten her feet were bare.

The Antibody nodded slowly and went for Remy again. It didn't think well, and was puzzled at the way the man kept not being dead when it grabbed him.

Still, he'd fallen down again... it headed for him, huge, hard feet clearly prepared to walk right onto him and crush him.

"Wrong move," Madelyn hissed, slamming Infectia face-first into the wall and holding her in place with a forearm pressed against the back of her neck. "Now," she continued in a low, dangerous voice, the gun's muzzle resting on the woman's temple. "Call it off, and I don't splatter what excuse for a brain you have all over the wall."

Remy came to his feet, pulling the five inch spike of mirror from his arm.He was bleeding from a dozen cuts, and the grey bastard was still moving towards him. It turned, looking towards it's mistress for the moment, and Remy went for his staff.

The creature was somehow tied into it's owner, likely a manifestation of her powers. It wasn't a full control, at least based on what he saw, but enough that it kept being distracted towards it's host. Remy scooped up his collapsed staff, and drove it into the knee of the beast. Some wet popped and crumpled, at least showing that some of the beast was still human. It turned to swipe at it, and LeBeau drove the steel pylon up into it's face, snapping it's head back. He hooked a leg, forcing it back and using the impact of a second head blow to drive it to the ground.

The Antibody flailed, trying to get up. It was weakening now, the fight draining its remaining strength more quickly than normal. It grabbed at him, but it was moving slower now. Although it couldn't feel pain, the broken parts of itself hampered movement and slowed it further.

Infectia was in no position to help it. The moment the gun touched her temple, she went limp, whimpering in fright. This could NOT be happening... and she didn't dare try to work her powers on the horrible woman, in case she was a mutant too and it just made her mad or something. "Let go," she whined. "You're hurting me!"

"I'll do a lot worse than that if you don't co-operate," Madelyn snarled, shoving the gun harder against Infectia's temple as the woman tried to pull away, difficult as it was with Madelyn's arm pinning her against the wall. Fury was rising in her, at the thought this whining, selfish bitch was the one responsible for the condition Hank was in. "Call. It. Off."

Remy didn't hear their conversation, blood rushing in his ears as he struggled with the thing. It was on it's back, unable to bring its far superior strength to bear as LeBeau rained short vicious blows on its throat and head. Parrying aside a blow, Remy arched up, and brought the shortened staff down end first in the centre of it's forehead, cracking the grey skin with the force.

It's explosion into grey dust and fragments was rather far down on LeBeau's expected reactions to the blow. "Well damn." He muttered, looking around stupidly.

"Damn indeed..." Madelyn spared Remy a quick glance, taking in the cuts. "You okay?"

Remy wiped away the blood threatening to trickle into his eyes, ignoring the wound in his arm. "Take more den a mirror to stop me. How 'bout our guest over dere? Maybe she tell us just what dis thing was?"

Infectia clamped her mouth shut, and then whimpered again as metal dug into her temple. "Owww! It's what I do! That's what my powers do! I can... make people different. What I want. Then they do whatever I tell them to. Only they die, after a while, and fall apart, go all gooey or dusty or something."

Madelyn glanced at the pile of grey dust, and her eyes went very cold. "The bellhop from the other hotel," she said flatly. Infectia didn't make a response, and she shoved her just a little harder into the wall. "And what about Henry McCoy? What happened with him?"

"Ow!" she whimpered again. "I don't know what happened! I kissed him, but it didn't work the way it usually does... he just looked surprised, he didn't do what I wanted!" She remembered the intense disappointment, the anger... she'd wanted him to help her, and he'd been no good to her at all. "I thought that meant it wouldn't work on mutants..."

Remy started picking the glass out of his cuts, ignoring the woman. Madelyn was getting the information she needed, he assumed. Until his own talents came into need, he was content to let the cop do her thing.

"That's what you wanted? For him to do what you asked him to? Is that what all this is about?" Madelyn couldn't resist giving the woman a little shake. "You're killing people so you can have your own personal toys? You self-centered, amoral little..." Reining her temper in - part of her was howling with outrage at the thought this could be responsible for Hank's possible death - she went on, voice tightly controlled. "Can you reverse it?"

Infectia blinked, and relaxed slightly. They wanted something! That meant they couldn't kill her. "Maybe," she said guardedly. She was pretty sure she could, but she didn't want them to know that yet. "What's in it for me?"

"Ah, I think dat's my cue." Remy said with a smile, his expression made sinister by the blood and the drywall dust. He slid his staff back in the inside pocket of his torn jacket, and pulled the trench coat off, laying it by the bed. "So, Agent Bartlett. Dis is de part where I break de law a lot. You want to be here for dis?"

Madelyn hesitated, glancing at the pile of dust and bone particles that had once been a living person. Part of her wanted to see the woman suffer, pay for what she had done. But she knew that was a road she couldn't travel down - she'd seen one too many good agents cross the line between justice and revenge, and she knew that was what was prompting that desire. The need for payback, not justice. Releasing the woman and stepping back, she re-holstered her gun and pulled out her handcuffs. "She's all yours," she said. "I'll go calm down the management - they're bound to have called the police after that ruckus."

Infectia looked from one to the other, bewilderment clear on her face. "I don't understand," she said sulkily. "If you want me to help your friend, you'd better not be mean to me. If you are, I'll just make him worse. So there."

Remy watched Madelyn ignore the comment and leave, handing him the cuffs, before he turned back to Infectia with a smile. "Well, alone at last."

"See chere, dere's one thing dat you right about." Remy checked the handcuffs, making sure that they were firmly set. "Dat you can decide to make it worse. De thing dat you wrong about is bete bleu being Gambit's friend. Frankly, I don't really care whether or not you can help him, cure cancer or change coke to Pepsi. I'm just looking forward to torturing you." He went back and picked up the blade sized shard of mirror that he'd pulled out of his arm.

Infectia stared at it, her dark eyes going wide as she backed up against the wall. "You can't do that!" she whimpered, not wanting to believe that he could... and probably would. "The bitch with the gun wants me to fix him! She'll be mad if you hurt me and I won't do it!" But the bitch with the gun had gone away, and left her with the terrifying man who was twirling the shard of glass idly in agile fingers...

"She just gon' have to learn dat you can't always get watch you want. Now about hurting you," Remy stopped and tapped the tip of the glass lightly against his temple. "Dat's a pretty good suggestion. Think dat Gambit going to do dat. What was it dat you use for your power? Right, it's a kiss."

Remy reached forward and grabbed her lower lip, pulling it out slightly, the glass shard hovering close. "Maybe de feme not be so mad if I give her you' lips? Maybe both sets. See, chere," He leaned in to whisper in her ear. "You up for finding out what a hot date Gambit is?"

Infectia paled, shaking like a leaf. He meant it! He was really going to hurt her! "I-if you do th-that I can't f-fix him...." she whimpered, and then he pinched her lip and she started to cry. "I'll help!" she sobbed, trying to pull away. "I will, I'll do whatever you want, just don't hurt me!" And maybe she'd find a way to get at HIM, and mess up HIS DNA... see how he liked being frightened and hurt!

"Lying to Gambit makes me mad, chere." The edge of the mirror was resting on the pinched lower lip, drawing a slight bit of blood. Infectia sobbed, mumbling around her pinched lip that she was telling the truth and would do anything and could help and oh god don't cut me. Remy let go of her, knowing that she was broken. He thumbed open his cellphone and quickdialed Madelyn where she was waiting outside the room, buzzing her back in.

Infectia slid down the wall, crying quietly. She HATED this... there was nobody around to use her powers on, no stupid man to do what she wanted and protect her... only the terrifying one who'd threatened her, wanted to hurt her. "I hate you," she sniffled, glaring up at him through her tears.

"And dat breaking Gambit's heart for sure. Now keep quiet, or I make sure you come out of dis place in separate pieces." He snapped, dabbing at the cuts on his hands and face with what had formerly been a Cote L'Alemdin original in raw silk that had cost her a substantial chunk of her stolen money.

The door opened and Madelyn reappeared. "We've got about ten minutes," she said quietly, taking in the sight of the crying Infectia. "We get what we needed?"

"What you wanted." Remy hauled her roughly to her feet, ignoring the squeal of protest. "If she starts playing any games, you just send her up to Gambit's room." Remy leaned close to whisper in Infectia's ear. "Dat's where I keep de special toys, chere."

He shoved her forward into Madelyn's arms, picking up the last traces of their involvement in the destroyed room.