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Logan paused on his way down the hall when his keen senses picked up on the scent of exhaustion, beer, and of course, the irritating cloy of the mansion’s resident Cajun.
Logan tried not to growl when he realized that the young mutant was currently seated in the one place Logan actually wanted to be in that moment; The kitchen.
Debating briefly on just going back to his room but torn because he wanted a drink, Logan finally decided just to suck it up and head to the kitchen for his own bottle of beer. He didn’t bother to try and be stealthy since Gambit was at least open about being raised as a thief and very few people in the mansion could successfully sneak up on him, so Logan just loudly stomped into the kitchen and over to the fridge.
He’d almost managed to get his beer and head back out with no words exchanged before the Cajun remarked in a low voice,
“We more alike dan you t’ink, homme.”
In all honesty here, Logan almost just kept walking but it was the calm and resign way Gambit said that that irritatingly pricked at Logan’s own curiosity and he choked down a sigh as he turned - remaining in the doorway for a quick getaway - and popped open his bottle with one claw as he remarked,
“You’re drunk, Gumbo. You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”
Logan absolutely did not like the low laugh that emanated from Gambit’s throat in response. “Non,” the mutant objected. “Remy as sober as you.” He straightened up slowly from his previously slumped position against the table and turned shade covered eyes towards Logan. “Healin’ factor mean Remy gotta chug a lotta drinks jus’ ta get a good buzz.”
Logan frowned. “You don’t have a healing factor.”
Gambit made that stupid laugh again. “Not dat you know of,” he mumbled, taking another sip.
Logan debated just turning around and leaving again before ultimately sighing and reluctantly trudging over to lean against the other side of the counter from the southerner.
“D’you gotta healin’ factor or metabolism?” Logan asked. At the blank look Remy shot him, Logan clarified. “Healin’ factor lets ya get better faster but a quick metabolism just results in drugs and shit having less of an effect on ya for a shorter period of time.”
Gambit hummed, turning his gaze down to his drink. “Dat one den,” he decided.
Logan grunted. “Guess I understand why you drink so much,” he remarked.
Gambit shook his head, thankfully not laughing again. “Dat not even close to da reason,” he mumbled against the rim of his beer bottle, knocking back the last drop before setting it down and instantly reaching for one of the unopened ones to his side.
Later, Logan would curse himself for not leaving when he had the chance. Instead, he just settled in and asked,
“Then what is? This have somethin’ to do with what makes the two of us similar?”
Gambit ducked his head then, shrugging weakly before nodding and then shrugging again. Sensing that this was a sore topic and knowing that he’d already come this far and leaving now would not be considered to be good teammate behavior, Logan reluctantly took a sip of his beer as he waited for Gambit to get his head on straight enough to talk about whatever had him convinced that he and Logan were more similar than they thought.
Eventually, Gambit finally chugged back half the bottle and let out a hard breath, dropping his head to the table top.
“Yer Weapon X, oui?”
Instincts had Logan almost lunging across the table to rip the other mutant’s throat out for daring to mention that, but he held them in - barely - and instead replied as calmly as he could.
“Part of it.”
Gambit hummed, lifting his head to peer at Logan as he remarked, “Gambit an experiment too.” He shrugged. “Not has bad as you, but...”
Logan was not following. “What?”
Gambit sighed, reaching into his duster lying across the table and pulling out a deck of cards, shuffling them a few times before withdrawing one - the ace of spades - and holding it between two of his fingers, charging it.
“Remy didn’ always have dis good o’ control,” he remarked, turning the weapon slowly in his fingers before flicking it into the air where it disintegrated into dust, surprising Logan just slightly who hadn’t realized Gambit had that much control to just destroy the card without actually blowing anything up. “Used t’ charge ev’ryt’in’ he touched. Sometimes even look at, non?” He shrugged, shuffling the deck once more. “Hurt a lotta people.”
“You’re not the only one,” Logan told him. “A lot of young mutants hurt people when they first come into their power. Rogue’s a good example.”
“She ever kill someone?”
Logan frowned. “Did you kill someone?”
Remy ducked his head, focusing all his gaze on the cards in his hands. “Oui,” he said quietly. “B’fore...b’fore.”
“Before what?”
Remy sighed, pausing in his shuffling to slowly set the cards down and rub his eyes beneath the sunglasses, shaking his head a few times before replying,
“When Remy w's ten, he met Doctor Essex." Logan tensed, a growl slipping out, and Remy laughed. "Course, Remy didn' know who he was. All he knew was dat he w's a docteur who knew mutants." Remy shrugged. "When Remy came int' his power and couldn't control it, Essex said he could help."
“What did he do?” The words came out as a growl, a snarl, and Remy smirked, though the expression fell as quickly as it had appeared.
Slowly, Remy lifted one hand to pull his bangs out of his face and reveal a scar across his forehead. “Said lobotomy was de only way t’ help Remy. Take some o’ his power and leave some. What was left’d be easier for Remy to control.”
Logan frowned. “That would have made you-”
“An Omega level,” Remy confirmed with a smile, letting his hair fall back into place. “Oui.”
“That’s not possible.”
“Non?”
“That lobotomy should’ve killed you.”
Remy shrugged. “Monsieur Creed say da same t’ing, when Remy wake.” His expression turned dark for a flash of a second before he shrugged. “Cause of dat, Monsieur Sinister decide dat Remy owe him a life debt now. So Remy did work for him, small jobs.” He shrugged again. “Den it weren’t enough. Den he become Monsieur Sinister’s lil’ experiment.” He almost shrugged a third time but instead reached for his deck of cards and began shuffling them once more, something to do with his hands to distract himself from his words.
Logan was quiet for a few moments, the sound of Remy’s cards the only one heard in the room before Logan finally spoke up at last,
“So when did you repay your life debt?”
It took a few moments but eventually, Remy stopped shuffling and very slowly lifted his gaze to Logan’s, holding it for a few moments before softly replying,
“Is a life debt, homme.”
“Meaning?”
“You don’ ever pay it off. You owe Monsieur Sinister a life debt, you belong to him; mind, body, and soul.” Remy shrugged. “Less o’ course you fuck up and try t’ stop a job. Den he send Monsieur Creed out t’ kill ya but he t’ink it more fun to make you run til y’ can’t no more. Till yer bleeding and chokin’ and y’ can’t charge nothin’ no more cause y’ over used y’ power-”
“Remy.” Logan cut him off firmly, reaching over to place his hand atop Gambit’s when he spotted the way the other mutant’s eyes had begun to glow from behind his sunglasses; the way he’d just charged the entire deck of cards in his hands and hadn’t even noticed.
Remy sucked in a breath and let it out slowly, the charge eventually dying from the pack which he put to the side once Logan had moved his hand.
“Merci,” he mumbled. “Dat woulda been bad.”
Logan grunted his agreement. “You ain’t ever told anyone about any of that, huh?”
Remy shrugged. “De Professor know, I t’ink,” he replied. “But no’one else.”
“Why?”
Remy scoffed, leveling Logan an unimpressed look. “When Gambit first join da team, d’ja trust him?”
Logan shifted. “No.”
“Would you’a trusted him iffin y’d learned that he’d worked for Monsieur Sinister. Dat he’d hurt people?”
“Probably not.”
Remy nodded his head. “Dat’s why den.”
Logan nodded. “You owe him a life debt, huh?”
“Oui.”
“So he still owns you? Even now?”
“Till death do us part.” Remy’s smile was not a happy one. “In sickness and in health, all dat shit.”
“He knows where you are.”
“Remy be shocked if he didn’.”
Logan nodded and the pair fell into silence once more. Eventually, Logan lifted his beer bottle and held it up between the two of them.
“To being used and abused for the sake of others.”
Remy chuckled, shaking his head as he lifted his own bottle and bumped it against Logan’s. “T’ use and abuse,” he agreed before the two of them downed their bottles in sync.
.................................
They enjoyed a few more drinks for another hour or two before Logan decided it was time for him to call it quits and head back to bed. He had a morning class of new students to teach in a few hours and he knew if he didn’t get enough sleep, he was going to easily become their least favorite teacher within a few seconds.
Not that he gave much of a shit, honestly.
“Alright, I’m heading up to bed, Gumbo,” he told Remy as he stood and cracked his spine, grabbing their empty bottles and carrying them to the sink. “You probably should too.”
“In a bit,” Remy replied, still nursing his last drink of the night.
As Logan was heading out of the room, he was stopped in the doorway by Remy’s quiet voice, calling his name.
“Yeah kid?” He asked, turning to face the young mutant who hadn’t turned to look at him.
Remy was quiet and still for a few moments before speaking in a tone so soft, Logan wouldn’t have heard it without his enhanced senses.
“Merci.”
Logan grunted. “Yer welcome,” he agreed. “This mean I get to dump my issues on you next time?”
That drew the first real laugh of the night from Remy who sat up straighter and turned to smile as Logan.
“Sure homme,” he agreed. “Whene’er y’ need t’ vent, y’ jus’ let ol’ Gambit know.”
Logan chuckled himself, shaking his head as he turned and left the room. As soon as he was gone, Remy slumped down against the table and closed his eyes, sighing quietly.
When he did finally lift his head and make his way back to his room, he paused in the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror, fingering his sunglasses before finally just turning out the light and plunging the room into darkness.
He dressed in the shadows and only removed the sunglasses once he was in bed and under the blankets, eyes closed tightly.
In his head, Sinister’s laughter echoed.