Chapter Text
A couple of weeks passed. The X-Men were on a mission to explore Mr. Sinister's old lab, still searching for clues related to Apocalypse. The team split up; Rogue and Gambit were assigned to a particularly creepy section.
They searched everywhere, finding nothing of significant value. Dust motes danced in the faint light filtering through grimy windows. As they prepared to leave, Gambit felt a prickling sensation, a disquiet he couldn't ignore. "Rogue," he said, his voice low, "I feel… something. Over there."
Rogue, ever vigilant, followed his gaze to a shadowed corner.
"What is it?" she asked, her hand instinctively reaching for her gloves.
Gambit cautiously approached, the air growing colder with each step. He could hear a faint, almost whimper. He pushed aside a tattered curtain, revealing a small, rusty cage tucked into the corner. Inside, huddled and trembling, was a young girl, perhaps 6 or 7 years old. Her skin was dark, her eyes a startling violet, and the ends of her brown hair were tipped with white.
Gambit stared, speechless. The girl looked up, her violet eyes wide with fear. She flinched back against the cage bars as he approached.
"Easy," Gambit murmured softly, trying to soothe her with his voice. He extended a hand, palm open, offering a gesture of peace. "It's alright, Petite. Gambit’s not going to hurt you."
The girl watched him, her fear evident in her trembling body. After a long moment, she reached out a tiny hand and grasped his hand. Her touch was surprisingly strong.
Gambit slowly opened the cage door. He spoke gently, using reassuring words. The girl hesitated for a moment, her eyes darting between Gambit and the opening. Then, with a sudden surge of trust, she scrambled out of the cage and into his arms. She clung to him tightly, burying her face in his chest.
Rogue watched the scene unfold, her initial apprehension melting into concern. "Oh,“Sweetheart" she whispered, approaching cautiously. "It's alright, we're here to help."
Gambit held the child close, cradling her gently. He felt a rush of protectiveness, a fierce need to shield her from whatever horrors had placed her in that cage. He could feel her small body shaking against his, the fear still palpable.
"We need to get her out of here," Gambit said, his voice firm. "Let's go."
Together, they carefully carried the child back towards the jet . As they walked, the girl gradually calmed, her breathing becoming less ragged. By the time they reached the waiting X-Men and boarded the jet, she had fallen into a deep, peaceful sleep in Gambit's arms. He looked down at her, a wave of emotion washing over him; a complex blend of protectiveness, sorrow, and a dawning sense of purpose that went beyond his usual missions.