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Avengers Mansion, dead as a doornail, quiet as a mouse. Everythin’ packed up and ready to be sold or auctioned off. Anythin’ here worth stealin’? Maybe, probably. Very likely.
It’s only out of respect for the person I’m here for that I don’t go rootin’ around to find out.
I turn a box-lined corridor and who should I see but Deadpool, lackadaisically standing guard outside the door I’m supposed to go into.
“You’re an Avenger?” is the first thing that comes to my mind, and I can’t help but say it.
At the impromptu greeting, he pushes away from the wall, arms spread.
“Me? An Avenger? Pfft, naw. Who’s dumb idea would that be, to make me an Avenger?”
“My thought exactly,” I respond as I draw near.
“Yeah, well… Stark’s gone bankrupt,” Deadpool shrugs. “Not enough money in the game to make it worth my while.”
“I hear that.” I glance at all the boxes, ready to be moved out. “How the mighty have fallen. Or somethin’.” I run a hand through my hair, expecting the worst, hoping for the best, wanting this to be over with either way. “Thanks for callin’ me,” I say; but he just waves me off.
“Don’t thank me. This was Cap’s idea. Said you were on her next-of-kin list. Told me I should call you.”
‘Next-o’-kin’? I don’t like the sound’a dat. The past few months all I been doin’ is playin’ sympathetic-ex-boyfriend to whatever the hell she sees herself right now, and this feels like an extension of those duties. If she’s put me down to be the executor of her will, I’m gonna be real pissed.
“Is, ah… Is Cap in there?” I ask nervously, figuring Wade doesn’t need to know a damn thing about my current relationship with Anna.
“Don’t worry, Gumboid,” he replies. “The old man said that since you have a warrant out for your arrest, it’s best if he ain’t around if you happen to turn up.”
Whew. Thank fuck for that. Don’t think I could handle Captain Boy Scout hovering over my shoulder at a moment like this.
“Thanks,” I say, reaching for the handle. “And by the way. There are at least 5 warrants out on my head.”
I lean into the door, and I’m just about to open it when he stalls me.
“Hey, Gambit. While we’re on the topic, you know a guy named Chalmers?”
I pause. I level him a look.
“Deadpool, dis ain’t the time for dis kinda shit…”
“I know.” He grins. At least I think he does behind that mask. “I’m just sayin’. You’re a thief. There’s a fun li’l gig lined up for you, if and when you can squeeze one in-between your ‘next-of-kin’ duties.”
“G’bye, Wade,” I shoot acerbically at him, and let myself inside.
I ain’t prepared for what I see on the other side.
Rogue, lookin’ like shit.
I shut the door behind me quietly. I let out the breath I’ve been holding in. I walk to her bedside and see just what the Terrigen Mists have done to her.
“Oh, Anna,” I murmur to myself. “Whatchu gone done to yourself, chere?”
She can’t hear me, hooked up like she is to all this equipment, in what I can only assume is an induced coma. The fact that she can’t hear or see me is the only reason I’m here. We laid out some ground rules for one another after all. I gave her permission to walk away, and she took it. I’m your home, your harbour, I said to her in one of my rare, earnest moments. You’ll come to me when you know that. But don’t come to me before. Which means – for now – don’t come to me at all.
I scratch the back of my head awkwardly at the memory. Those words had felt unnecessarily harsh at the time, for both of us – but it had obviously been what she needed to hear. She had never come back to me. Not once. Sure, we’d run into one another, now and then. Traded kind words, smiled. Hugged. Perhaps even flirted now and then. But she’d never come back in the way that mattered, in the way I wanted, or hoped for, or both.
Y’know, I hear things. I know about Mags. I know about Johnny Storm. Can’t keep things hidden for long wit’ the X-Men. S’like livin’ in some podunk town in the middle of nowhere. Everyone knows everybody, secrets will out. Jubes loves secrets.
I’m a big boy, but there are some secrets I wish I didn’t haveta hear.
I dunno how contagious this disease is, but I’m all gloved up, so I reach out and touch her blistered hand. It’s a simple thing, but how many times has she pulled her hand away from mine? How many times have I only been able to touch her like this? Gloves on, skin covered? The moment she gained control of her powers felt like the moment she started to withdraw from me, like she wanted to try to touch everyone and everything that wasn’t me. That smarts. It stings, when we’re both here, and I’m touching her like this.
I draw up a chair beside her and sit. Again I think about how I’m breaking some sort of rule in being here, this understanding we have, the one I don’t want. The one where I step aside and make way for her to live her life. Where I wait for her to figure out I’m the one she wants.
Fuck that.
“I get it, chere,” I murmur into the quiet, half resentful, half helpless. “You want me when you’re on death’s door. You put me down as your next-o’-kin so I turn up by your side when you’re so fucked up you don’t even have to be conscious to know I’m there. You trust me with your life. You just don’t trust me with your love.”
It’s infuriating. It’s infuriating to know that’s how it is, despite everythin’. I didn’t make no grand sacrifice, voluntarily stepping away from her, for purely altruistic reasons. I did it because I knew she wouldn’t choose me. I knew she’d choose Mags. And I just hadn’t wanted to be there to see it.
And this is the prize I get. Havin’ the privilege of bein’ with her again when she’s like this.
I link my fingers with hers, raise her hand to my cheek. Careful our skin doesn’t touch. Conscious of how we’ve both played this game before. Don’t touch!—her perennial warning. Me, pushing the boundaries, so damn hard, all the fuckin’ time. All I ever wanted was this. To feel her warmth.
“Guess I should be flattered you put me down on the list of people you wan’ around when you’re dead or dying,” I tell her. Am I sounding bitter? Maybe a li’l. “They tellin’ me they’re workin’ on a cure, that Hank and Stark are optimistic, that you’ll pull through. They don’t need to hide it from me though. They’re worried. Real worried.” I slide her a weary smile. “They dunno how often you and I danced dis tango though, do they, chere? You, on death’s door. Me, sittin’ here by your side, willin’ you to wake up, be strong, get better. And you always do.” I laugh softly, squeeze her hand. “Y’know, for someone who’s ‘well-nigh invulnerable’, you don’t half end up in a coma often, mon amour. Why is dat?”
She don’t answer. She might look like a hot mess right now, but that pretty li’l face of hers don’t even twitch in reply. The soft blip of the heart monitor is the only response I get. I’m used to this. Not gettin’ answers from her. Her, runnin’ away when shit gets real.
Shit’s real now, chere. They tell me you could die. And if you do, would all’a dat runnin’ been worth it?
Not dat you’d be alive to care.
But I’d be. I’d be.
The harried smile drops from my face. I take her lifeless hand between both of mine. I press my lips to my knuckles, cos I can’t press them against hers.
“Lissen, chere. Word is, you could die from dis. Too early to tell yet, nobody knows what dis M-Pox thing means. Me, I think you’re too much of a fighter for this to end you. I know you, chere. But if you don’t… if you don’t get past dis… I want you t’know somethin’. I love you. I put a space b’tween us knowin’ I could deal with it because you were out there tryin’ t’be happy. But if you weren’t out there… if the space between us means you ain’t never comin’ back… I don’t think I could live with it. Livin’ in a world wit’out you wouldn’t be worth livin’, chere. I mean it.”
I pause. As always, no answer.
Go figure.
“So you live, girl. Live, so we continue to get that chance we might never take.”
I gently rest her hand back down by her side. I don’t think there’s anything more I can think of to say. I stand. I give her hand one last squeeze.
“Love you, Anna Marie,” I say, before I leave.
I’m surprised to see Deadpool still standing sentry outside the door.
“You still out here?” I ask.
“Hey, Cap said I should keep a look out for her while you were here. I hear things about you, y’know, Gambit. I know all about your weird kinks!”
I raise an irritated eyebrow at him. Why the hell Cap’s lettin’ him run wit’ de Avengers is beyond me.
“Yeah, well, takin’ advantage of my comatose ex-girlfriend ain’t one of ‘em.”
I turn to leave.
“You goin’ already?” Wade asks.
“Yeah. She looks stable. I’m trustin’ Stark and Hank will take care o’her better than I could. Just make sure you call me again, if things look bad.”
“And if they look good?”
I stop, think about it.
“Yeah. Lemme know. Just don’t expect me to rock up again. She won’t appreciate it if she wakes up and finds me there.”
“Huh. She wants you there when she’s about to kick the bucket, but not when everythin’s all fairy dust and unicorn farts. Sounds like my kinda woman.”
Ugh. I’m outta here.
“G’bye, Wade!” I nearly holler at him.
I’m halfway down the hallway when I think of something. I halt, spin round.
“By the way. That Chalmers job?”
“Yeah?”
I grin.
“Deal me in.”
-END-