Archive of Our Own ^beta

“The Heart of a Monster”

“FOUND IT!” Jitter popped up from behind a clump of elephant’s ear, a cluster of long white stems with white bell-like flowers clutched in her fist.  

A few yards away, Rogue grinned widely, her arms folded across her chest as she kept a watchful eye.  “Great job, Sofia!” she called.  She, Nightcrawler, Jitter, and Ransom were scouring the east woods near Haven House, searching for the items on Marcus’s ‘scavenger hunt.’  

Behind a Cyprus tree covered in swathes of gently billowing Spanish Moss, Valentin Correa popped up with a whoop.  “I got the milkweed!”  Skirting around the gnarled, protruding roots of the tree, Ransom held an armful of tall, fuzzy stalks with huge clumps of star-shaped pink flowers.  “We are kicking BUTT,” he celebrated, meeting up with his teammate to deposit their treasures into a long, open wicker basket.  He high-fived the Singaporean girl.  “Gambit’s team ain’t got a PRAYER.”  His smile was wide enough to split his face, and his contagious enthusiasm had the two X-Men grinning as well. 

“Don’t hike your britches up so high, Ransom,” Rogue warned, trying to quell her own optimism.  “Remy grew up here. He knows these parts like the back of his hand.”

“Yyyes,” Jitter nodded with a frown.  “Bbbut the adults aren’t allowed to hhhelp us.”

Kurt politely attempted to hide a snort behind his hand.  “Ja, but considering zhe wager he and Rogue made, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s collected all the ingredients himself by now.”  

Rogue straightened, a light blush rising to her cheeks.  “Ah knew Ah shoulda put you on his team, fuzzball.”  She reached over to ruffle her brother’s dark hair.  “Leastways you woulda kept him honest.”

“Funnily enough,” Nightcrawler shot back, his pointy teeth gleaming in the last rays of sunlight.  “He encouraged me to do the same with YOU.  Something about the prize being too hard to resist…”

“Oh, really,” Valentin smirked, folding his arms across his chest in a pose that was eerily similar to Logan’s.  “And what kind of prize might that be, Mrs. LeBeau…”  He drawled her name, one eyebrow cocked in knowing amusement.  Beside him, Sofia glanced between her friend and the two adults with innocent naiveté.  

Rogue’s cheeks darkened, her mouth gaping open.  “Never you mind!” she finally barked out, clapping her hands together.  “Go on, now!  Y’all better get movin’ or you’re gonna lose out on Marcus’s peach cobbler!  It’s nearly nightfall and ya got half a dozen more items to collect.”

“Did you bring flashlights?” Kurt asked before the two young Outliers could scamper off into the darkness.  They both shrank under his disapproving gaze.  

“Nnno Sssir” Sophia stuttered. 

“I figured we’d be done before it got too dark to see,” Ransom shrugged unapologetically. 

Behind her brother, Rogue slapped a palm against her forehead with a barely muted groan.  Remy was DEFINITELY going to gloat over this.  The man was secretly one of the best prepared members of the X-Men - cultivated from years of planning heists as a thief.  He absolutely would have thought to grab flashlights, whereas she had been so eager to get started that she’d led her team off into the woods with a prayer rather than a plan.  

Kurt’s grin widened as he pulled three small flashlights the size of pens out of his pocket.  “Zhe full moon will give us some light, but it is good I happened to grab these, ja?”  He handed them over to the kids, who scampered off in search of their next target. 

Rogue’s smile lit her face almost as much as the soft white light of the full moon that was just beginning to peak above the eastern horizon.  “Kurt, Ah could kiss you!” she whispered as slender yellow beams of two flashlights bounced around the woods.  

“I will settle for you and Gambit reconciling your bets AWAY from the house.”  He turned, smirking lightly at his sister. “You two are not as ‘sneaky’ as you think you are, and some of these children are still innocent to your ways,” he winked. 

The shadows were starting to settle in, but did very little to hide the furious redness that fully eclipsed Rogue’s face.  A loud, full laugh bubbled up from Nightcrawler’s chest as she hid her face in her hands.  “Ah swear ta God, Ah shoulda partnered you up with Remy.  Ain’t no way Jubilee is giving him THIS much grief.”

Kurt chortled.  “Are you kidding?  It’s Jubilee.  Gambit is probably ready to forfeit the whole game by now, just to shut her up.”

The Mississippi native doubled over, holding her stomach as she giggled.  “Oh mah lord you’re right.  She’s probably got my poor boy’s britches all in a bunch by now!”

~X~

“JUBILEE!!” Remy hissed at the girl beside him, keeping a careful eye on his two young charges as they flitted between clumps of spiky dwarf palmettos and fluffy pink hibiscus.  The beams of their flashlights were easy enough to track, but he was grateful that his mutation enabled him to keep an eye on their surroundings as well.  

“What?” the dark-haired young woman popped her chewing gum with a devious grin as Gambit turned toward her with his arms folded.  “I’m just saying, if you’re going to get up to those kinds of shenanigans, maybe you should …”

“Good GOD, girl, if you don’t stop commenting on our marriage…”  Remy turned his eyes heavenward, grateful that the slowly rising moon was still dim enough to cover the faint pink in his cheeks.  

“Oh, your marriage is fine. GREAT even. I’m JEALOUS of how good you two are together, you know?”  The young woman huffed, crossing her arms over her chest as she pouted.  “I’m glad for you, don’t get me wrong.  I mean, with the way you two danced around each other for YEARS, we were all ready to strangle you both for being so dang DENSE.”

Remy took a deep, calming breath as Jubilee yapped incessantly.  He should have demanded that he and Rogue switch partners.  There was no way Nightcrawler would be hassling him this much.  Heck, he had TRIED insisting that he and Rogue be partners, but for some reason, everyone had vetoed that idea.  Emphatically.

“I just wanna know, ya know, how you manage it?  Every. Single. Night.  Like, don’t you two get tired?!”  Jubilee raised an eyebrow expectantly as she walked along beside him.

“Jubes, I love ya petite , but if you don’t stop yammerin’ about what Rogue and I do behind closed doors…”

“Oh my gosh, sensitive much?” she retorted, rolling her eyes.  “It’s not like it’s a BAD thing.  A little weird, maybe, but…”

“Hush up,” Gambit breathed, his voice barely audible over the wind that whispered through the Spanish Moss.  

“Oh quit being a baby!  It’s not like anyone really cares.  I mean, maybe a little when you wake us up at two in the dang morning…”

“ Tais-toi! ” (shut up) He finally snapped. His cards and bow staff were in his hands so fast they’d appeared almost as if by magic, and Jubilee finally closed her mouth, eyes wide.

Her eyes searched the darkness, the cold stillness of the night washing her exposed skin in goosebumps.  “What is it?” she murmured under her breath, fingers poised and ready to burst with her signature fireworks.  “I don’t see anything.”

“ Exactement ,” Remy’s Cajun lilt was grim as he raced silently into the brush.  

“Oh god,” Jubilee gasped.  “Where are the kids!?”  With one hand above her head, she lit a sort of torch light with her pyrokinetics.  “Hotoro?!  Becca?!” she shouted, panic lacing her voice.  “Where are you?!!”

When the only reply was a few distant croaks from swamp frogs, the young woman nearly hyperventilated, pausing to clutch her chest.  “Oh man, Rogue is gonna KILL us for losing them.”

“Stay close, Jubes,” Gambit warned, his own cards glowing and ready at his side.  “Dont’ need you gettin’ lost, too.”   

She jogged to catch up, sticking to his side before cupping one hand around her mouth.  “Deathdream!  Calico!!”  

“Over here!” A shaky feminine voice called through the darkness.  “Hotoro’s flashlight went out, and I got stuck in a bog or something.”  

Both Remy and Jubilee heaved a collective sigh of relief even though they could hear the fear and disappointment in Becca’s voice as they cut through the darkness.  Just ahead, barely illuminated by the combination of fireworks and bright fuschia playing cards, Deathdream was trying in vain to pull the blonde girl out of the muck, but he wasn’t strong enough.  

“I - I lost the basket of supplies,” the young girl sniffled.  “I’m so sorry Mr. Gambit.”

“Hey now,” Remy grinned, shaking his head reassuringly.  He extinguished his cards before reaching out for the girl. She was stuck, knee deep in a pond of some type. “No need to worry y’rself ‘bout dat, petite .  S’ just a game.  We can get more ingredients for Marcus t’morrow, yeah?”

Sniffling, Calico nodded and wrapped her hand around the X-Man’s forearm while Jubilee held a few sparklers above her head for light.  

Gambit and Hotoro both tugged on Calico’s arms, but she barely budged. “OW!” She yelped, biting her lip to keep from crying.  Even in the low light, however, Remy could see tears sparkling in her bright blue eyes.  “Hold on a sec, chere. ” He kept hold of her wrist with one hand and snatched his bo staff from his pocket with the other.  “Looks like y’r caught on som’pin.”  

With a light-hearted grin and a wink, he slid his staff along the back of her boot until it collided with something firm wrapped around her ankle.  With a few sharp jabs, Calico’s foot broke free and the boys hauled her out of the muck with a couple more tugs.  The bog squelched as it released the shaking girl, and she tumbled forward into Gambit’s arms.  She clutched at him for a moment, seeking comfort.

“Th-thanks,” the blonde teen muttered as the X-Man steadied her, rubbing her back in a gentle, almost fatherly way.  Stepping away, she tucked a lock of mud-slicked hair out of her face as she examined her clothes.  “Ew,” she groaned.  “I have mud inside my boots.”  

“Best get ya home and showered,” Remy chuckled, choosing to keep his concern about leeches to himself for now.  “These Louisiana bayous ain’t exactly sanitary, yeah?”  The girl nodded vigorously in agreement as she wiped her hands on her slightly less filthy riding coat.  “Follow close mes amis ,” he dropped his voice, emulating an eerie tone.  “You never know what kind of … CREATURES … might be lurkin’ out there.”

“Oh cut it OUT, Gambit!” Jubilee rolled her eyes, shoving him with the hand that wasn’t lighting their way.  “We’re too old to get scared by stupid, made up monsters.”

A few feet away, Deathdream stared into the darkness, his head cocked to the side.  “I often do see things that my mind makes up.  Things that others do not.  The Dark Things.  But I am not certain THEY are made up.  This time.”

Collectively, the group turned, squinting through the darkness as one, then two, then five, ten pairs of red, blinking lights - blinking eyes - stared back at them.  Half a dozen glowing cards slipped into Gambit’s hands while Jubilee held balls of fireworks in her fists.  The X-Men and Outliers whirled, surrounded on all sides by more menacing figures than they could count.  

“‘Toro,” the Cajun called quietly.  “I need ya t’ back up here t’ me, fils . (son) Slow like.”  His words were steady. Calm and quiet.  Reassuring, even. But there was a strain to his voice that sent shivers up the younger mutant’s spines.

“What… What ARE they?” Becca’s voice trembled as Gambit pushed her further behind him.  

“Dead things,” Deathdream commented, disconcertingly nonchalant and unconcerned.  “They are hungry.”

“Hungry for WHAT?” Jubilee’s eyes widened in the dancing lights of the fireworks clenched within her fists.  

“Blood.  Revenge.” Hotoro answered.  “Us.”  

“V-VAMPIRES?” Jubilee stuttered as Calico squeaked, clutching tight to her free arm.  “Oh my God.  Not vampires.  Not again…”

Behind him, Gambit could sense the young X-Man’s rising panic, her rapid breathing more audible than the entire group of slowly approaching figures. “Jubes,” he tried to soothe his friend, “it’s gonna be alright, fille .  Just keep y’r head.”

“Gambit,” she whimpered, “I - I can’t.  Not again. Oh god.” Her fireworks popped and sparked  erratically.

“Calico,” Remy’s dark eyes shifted to the blonde.  “Can you call Ember?  You three need a quick ride outta here.”

The girl nodded, closing her eyes to summon her horse, whom she’d left back at Haven House.  “What…” she paused, glancing back and forth between Gambit and Jubilee. “What about you?” Remy was attempting to shield the two girls while simultaneously trying to corral Hotoro back to the group.  Meanwhile Jubilee’s fireworks sputtered, nearly uncontrollable in the wake of her fear. 

“Y’all get home, send Wolverine as back up.  Stay wit’ Alice and Chelsea and protect ‘em.  Find some garlic or som’pin.”  Gambit charged up his cards, herding the girls closer to the bog, trying to put some kind of barrier between their group and the swarming mass of burning red eyes that had surrounded them on all sides.  

With a shudder, he realized this must be why so many folks ran scared when they first saw HIS eyes.  Those burning red embers were downright eldritch.

“Garlic does not work,” Hotoro commented casually, turning his head toward the group of mutants behind him.  “They are older than that.  Older than fairy tales.  They are the ancient ones.”  

One of the shadowy figures moved closer as soon as the boy’s attention shifted, and Remy leapt forward, snatching the back of Hotoro’s flowing black coat, yanking him back.  Silver flashed like lightning, Gambit’s bo-staff glinting in the light of the full moon as it deflected a failed grab by one of the creatures.  Swinging wide, he sent the shrouded creature sailing backward where it was quickly surrounded by a few other red-eyed monsters.

The kids inched closer to the bog, with Jubilee and Calico both clutching tightly to one another, terrified and yet trying to comfort the other simultaneously.  Unnoticed, a sinewy, ghoulish hand slithered out of the muck, latching around the Asian X-Man’s ankle.  Jubilee fell hard, screaming as she was pulled toward the bog.  Muddy, decrepit hands clawed at her yellow boots and black thigh-high leggings, tugging her closer to her doom.  

“Jubilee!”  Calico and Hotoro held tight to her arms, trying to pull her away from the monster with their own limited strength.  

Flashing fuschia exploded in a dozen directions at once as Gambit lobbed his cards in a wide arc, forcing the mob of vampires back as they surged toward the group.  The soft white light of the moon dimmed under the brilliance of the furious pink glow as more and more kinetically charged explosives sailed through the tiny clearing.  Red eyes blinked in and out of view as they disappeared behind trees, practically invisible in the darkness.  

In the distance, a speck of orange flame came barrelling through the woods, scattering the shadowed creatures.  Remy spared the moment’s distraction to flick a few explosives into the bog, and the leathery hand around Jubilee’s ankle finally released its grip.  Seconds later, Ember slid to an abrupt halt alongside the group of mutants.  The horse bent its head, nuzzling Calico’s cheek as the girl kissed his muzzle.  

“Oh you sweet, wonderful boy,” she murmured.  “Please, take us home, quickly!”  The stallion lifted his front leg, allowing Becca to step up and easily swing herself onto his back.  Remy lifted Jubilee up next, placing her just behind the blond.  Finally, he grabbed Hotoro, practically throwing him onto the horse’s back end.  

“Go!” the Cajun shouted, more cards already filling his hands as he whirled toward the swarm of vampires.  He slapped the horse on the rump, and the animal took off like a shot, giving the teens no time to argue.

~X~

“Get away from mah kids!” Rogue bellowed, launching herself faster than a bullet from a barrel at the creatures who were surrounding Valentin and Sofia.  Ransom threw a punch, channeling the power of the black hole in his heart to enhance his strength in an effort to protect Jitter from the monster who leapt at her, teeth flashing.  His fist connect with the side of the beast’s head, knocking it sideways.

Rogue stood before them a heartbeat later, another beast crashing through the trees under her powerful right hook, and Kurt teleported in a moment later, fists raised and tail lashing.  They were surrounded on all sides, dozens of glowing white eyes staring at them maliciously.  

“Kurt, get the kids back to the house and grab Logan.  Ah’ll try an’ lead ‘em farther away from Haven!”  Rogue shouted as another flash of teeth lunged for Sofia.  The southern woman raised her arm, wincing as the animal clamped down on it.  At least her invulnerability left her skin intact, even if the pressure was a bit uncomfortable and the sharp teeth tore at her uniform. 

Before another attack could be executed, Nightcrawler nodded grimly, grabbed both the young teens by the arms, and teleported away.  In a puff of sulfur, the three landed at the bottom of the stairs at Haven House.  Ransom collapsed to his knees, retching slightly while Jitter staggered and moaned beside him.  Neither of the kids were accustomed to Kurt’s brand of transportation yet, and the combination of fear, adrenaline, and teleportation left them both sickly and unsteady.  

“Wolverine!” Nightcrawler shouted toward the warm, quiet house. “Come quickly!”

Within moments, the porch door swung open, but it was not Wolverine who greeted them.   Marcus St. Juniors, owner and proprietor of Haven House, raced down the porch steps with his double barrel shotgun in hand.  “Logan left with Alice on a grocery run. How can I help?”

“Trouble in the woods,” Kurt started to explain when a loud whinny cut through the darkness on the west side of the house. 

“WOLVERINE!” Calico’s voice was faint, partially masked by the furious hoofbeats that thundered across the damp soil.  “Help!!! Gambit needs help!”  

The horse and its passengers burst through the underbrush and cypress trees a moment later, slowing to a stop in front of Nightcrawler, Ransom, Jitter, and Marcus.  

“There’s monsters!” Becca announced as Kurt reached for a trembling, silent Jubilee.  “They had us surrounded.  Gambit stayed to fend them off, keep them away from the house, and then Hotoro jumped off of Ember to try and help.  They need backup, now!”

Once Jubilee was tucked into Kurt’s arms, Calico gracefully swung off her horse, landing in front of Jitter, and Sofia wrapped wrapped the blonde in a fierce hug. 

“Are you hurt?” Marcus asked, placing a gentle hand on Jubilee’s shoulder.  The young X-Man simply shook her head. “What kind of creatures attacked you?”

“Vampires!”

“Werewolves!”

Becca and Sofia announced simultaneously as they turned, arm in arm, toward the others. 

Confused glances danced between the two groups of mutants.  

“Definitely werewolves,” Ransom explained. “Huge, furry wolves with glowing white eyes and nasty teeth.”

Calico shook her head. “Whatever attacked us had human hands and faces.  Their eyes were red, not white.”

Jubilee finally pried her damp face away from Nightcrawler’s furry blue shoulder and wiped her eyes. “They were vampires, Kurt.  I’m sure of it.  Oh god, I shouldn’t have left Gambit and ‘Toro alone!  I just… I can’t go through that again.  I can’t.”

“Gggo through wwwhat again?” Jitter asked quietly, still tucked, trembling, under Calico’s arm.  

Nightcrawler eyed them grimly.  “Jubilee was attacked by a vampire once.  He turned her into one of them, and she spent a long time adjusting to that existence.  Thankfully, one of our friends was able to cure her, but the experience has left her with an understandable fear of the creatures.”

Ransom punched a fist into the palm of his other hand. “Well Rogue and Gambit BOTH need help, and I’m more than happy to kick some monster a…”

“Watch it, son,” Marcus warned, eyes narrowed.

“Monster Butt,” Valentin corrected sheepishly. He eyed the shotgun and the tension in the older man’s spine. “Sir.”

“Rogue is invulnerable,” Kurt decided.  “She should be able to hold her own against a few wolves.”

“Few dozen,” Ransom corrected.

Kurt massaged the bridge of his nose.  “Okay, a few dozen wolves.  Gambit and Hotoro should be the first priority.  Then we will aid Rogue.”

Marcus was grim.  “None of y’all got bit or scratched, didja?” he asked, squinting at the children.  “Those monsters are nasty.  They break skin and you’re doomed to live with that curse for life.  My great uncle had the displeasure of meetin’ one.  Far as we know he’s still out there, livin’ with the Rougarou swamp pack.”

“There’s a pack of werewolves living out there, and you didn’t tell us BEFORE we went traipsing through the dark on a scavenger hunt?!”  Jubilee cried, red sparks igniting and flickering from her clenched fists.  Her face was scrunched up, somewhere between outrage and disbelief.  

“No one’s seen ‘em in decades,” Marcus shrugged.  The yellow porch light danced with the shadows, illuminating the grimace on his face.  “Same with the vampire clan.”

Nightcrawler’s fangs gleamed from beneath his curling lip.  He had a few choice words for their benefactor as well, but nothing he dared say in front of the children.  “Do we have anything to combat either of these creatures?” He took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “Garlic, stakes, holy water? That sort of thing?”

“Good old fashioned decapitation is about the best that’ll work for those vampires.  They’re ancient. Old as the forest itself.  They’ve never really bothered the folks around here.  Ain’t exactly peaceful, but they usually don’t attack humans unless they’re threatened.  As for the Rougarou, I think I have some old silver bullets and charms in the basement.  ”

Nightcrawler nodded.  “Jubilee, you and the kids stay here and help Marcus find those bullets.  And call Logan, tell him to get back here as fast as he can.  I shall go find Gambit and Hotoro and give them aid.”

“No need, frère ,”  Gambit’s jovial Cajun lilt broke through the tune of crickets and toads singing in the night.  “We’re right here.”  He sauntered up to the group with Deathdream at his side.  The young Japanese native had a huge, genuine smile on his face.  It was both endearing and eerie. 

“How did you escape!?” Becca cried, running up to first hug Hotoro, and then Gambit. Jitter did the same, while Ransom greeted the two men with a sliding of palms and rapping of knuckles. Jubilee shuffled her feet, hugging herself as she stood behind Nightcrawler, her gaze cast down and cheeks aflame.

Remy slung his arm over Deathdream’s shoulder.  “Turns out Hotoro’s abilities lets ‘im speak t’ vampires, too.  Dis one was surrounded, sharp teeth ready t’ sink into my neck, when dis here homme just flat out commands ‘em to stop.”  He grinned proudly at the boy, slapping him on the back.  “Dey don’t speak our language - don’t speak at all really - but Deathdream was able to communicate wit’ ‘em. Turns out they’re bein’ HUNTED by som’pin. Dey thought it was us at first.  Dat’s why dey were surroundin’ us, waitin’ to attack.  Dey been living peaceful in de deep woods until recently. Then their kin started turnin’ up dead.”

“Well,” Hotoro shrugged, his tone flat and dry. “MORE dead.”  

Ransom reached over to ruffle the younger teen’s hair while the others winced.  “Nice goin’ bro. Turnin’ into quite the hero, my man.”

Hotoro beamed under the praise of his ‘older brother’ idol.  “And I didn’t even need to wear your clothes,” the ghostly-inclined mutant teased back.  Ransom roared in response, a wide grin on his face as he threw an arm over the smaller boy’s shoulders.

Kurt was sober, however.  “We encountered monsters, too, but of the furry variety.”

“And nnnnot the sweet bbblue kkkind, either,” Jitter nodded in agreement, her eyes wide.

“Not de Rougarou?” Gambit turned a concerned eye toward Marcus.  “Thought dey cleared out ages ago?”  

“Sounds like they’re back,” Marcus lifted a shoulder.  “Gonna go find the silver bullets in the basement, but your wife is out there right now, tryin’ t’ keep ‘em away from the house.”

“ Merde ,” Gambit cursed under his breath.  His stomach twisted with fear for Rogue’s safety. 

“Remy,” Marcus’s voice was dark, warning. “If she gets bit - if they break skin…”  

“ Je sais ,” Gambit snapped.  “But she’s invulnerable.  Chances are dey won’t be able to hurt her.  Can’t risk de rest of ya, though,” he warned the others.  “You lot stay here, help Marcus an’ protect Chelsea.  Board up de windows.  I gotta find Rogue.”

Kurt put his hand on Gambit’s shoulder before he could take off. “I will accompany you,” he stated gravely.  “I can get you there faster, and whisk us to safety. Besides, you may need help finding her if she was able to lure them away.”

With a tight, worried smile, Remy nodded. “ Merci, mon frère .”

~X~

Rogue screeched, fear and fury ripping across her vocal cords as she was dragged down by a dozen sharp, angry mouths. Her super strength strained to the hilt under the weight of the enormous beasts that were attempting to rend her flesh from her bones.  She wrenched one arm free, swinging wide even as they continuously pinned her down.  Her mouth turned up in a vindictive snarl as bone and fur splintered beneath her fist.  Canine-like yelps of pain echoed through the woods as the creature connected with a tree and went limp. 

Thankfully, their teeth weren’t sharp enough to pierce her invulnerable skin, but her uniform was in absolute tatters, barely hanging off her frame as the animals dragged her closer and closer to the bogs. 

 Sarah Gaunt had definitely done more damage, but the pack of werewolves were working in tandem to bring her down and incapacitate her in whatever way possible.  One of them had her by the hair, sharp teeth nipping at her scalp as it stepped into the murky waters of the swamp.  Two of them were on her back, using their hefty weight to keep her from flying away while at least half a dozen more chomped and tugged at her limbs, preventing her from doling out the full damage her powers provided.

Her hands flailed, grasping at the mud, trying to push off enough to fly, to fight, but the beasts dragged her further into the mud and muck.  A forceful jolt against the back of her head by a pair of gigantic paws pressed her face into the filthy water.  Whipping her head back up with a furious scream, she realized these ‘animals’ meant to drown her.  They clearly weren’t able to harm her in their more traditional fashion, but were intelligent enough to formulate a new plan of attack and work in tandem. 

Rogue threw her full strength into pushing off the ground, but with so many of the monsters overwhelming her, she had no leverage.  Her face plopped back into the muck a second time, then a third, and she shook her head, trying to clear the mud from her eyes.  True panic crept up her spine, sending jolts of electricity skittering over her skin.  Her mind was clouded with unfamiliar thoughts as her natural powers surged, absorbing them, sucking eagerly at every living thing.  

Escape - SURVIVAL - was all that mattered.  Survive. Run. Fight. 

LIVE. 

The instinct was all consuming, and she howled with rage, teeth snapping and nails slashing against her captors.  Gradually, she felt them fall away, fleeing from her ferocity as she bit and clawed.  Her bones and muscles ached, skin aflame as she swiped once more at a slowly approaching werewolf.  All around her, several of the creatures lay still, their bodies unmarred, yet unconscious. 

Her arms and legs were caked with mud and fur, along with other detritus, as she whirled around in the shallow bog on all fours, snarling and growling at the circling monsters. She couldn’t even see her own skin anymore, covered as it was in filth and fur. 

She tossed her head, angry at the white locks that stuck to her face and obscured her vision, yet she couldn’t raise her hand to push them away.  Turning, she tried to flee, and yelped as another werewolf landed on her shoulders and spine.  Sharp teeth seized her neck, though the fangs could not penetrate her flesh.  

Twisting onto her back, she launched the thing away with all four of her limbs.  Without hesitation, she rolled back onto her feet, racing away from the pack.  Still they harried her, following along at an almost curiously slow pace as she fled. Adrenaline rushed through her blood, filling her with excitement rather than fear.  

Flying was faster, sure, but this was liberating.  The sounds and smells of the forest, the mud beneath her bare flesh as it squelched between the pads of her fingers and toes.  She felt like she was one with the very earth, and soon she forgot she was running away from the pack, instead consumed by the urge to run WITH them.  

~X~

Time blurred as she ran, too focused on fleeing to care where she was going.  Too concerned with feeling the wind and moonlight caressing her body, whipping through her shortened hair. Flesh or fur, nails or claws, hands or paws - none of it mattered any more.  Every part of her bled together into an amalgamous new being.  Not quite human, not quite animal.  Her arms and legs burned from exertion, but dread and agony - an animalistic instinct to survive - kept her going.  

Her people, the Rougarou, had gone into hiding long ago, seeking a peaceful existence away from humans.  Legend had twisted them into something vile and terrifying just to scare folks into behaving.  Tales of violent wolf-like men who would gobble up naughty children spread rampantly as reality became folklore.  

Truly, her people only sought a place safe to call home.  Somewhere they could roam the forests, be free to run where they wanted and live how they saw fit.  But they’d been found out.  After decades of peace and coexistence with the other creatures in these woods, they were being hunted again.  Many of her friends, her family, had disappeared or been killed.  Slain by silver bullets and caught with silver-lined chains. For sport.  For fun.  For vengeance.  

Anger and fear fueled her mind and body as she unwittingly siphoned energy from the other wolves who both chased after and ran alongside her.  

Slowly, the Rougarou fell back, and she hastened, alone, into a denser part of the woods.  Somewhere quiet.  Somewhere sacred.  Somewhere that raised her hackles and made her shiver with anxiety as the beast inside her shuddered.  

But she couldn’t stop.  If she stopped, they would all be hunted into extinction.  And she would kill every last creature in this forest - human, vampire, or otherwise - before another drop of her pack’s blood was spilt.  

There was a hint of death on the air.  Of sweat, fur, and flame. Of dirt, decay, and desecration.  The sickly aroma clenched at her heart and tore at her lungs until finally she paused. Fear trembled across her skin, her power snatching greedily at anything that breathed, though, thankfully, she was alone.   

Bright eyes glowed green in the dark, seeking out the root of this disquietude.  She turned her nose skyward, sniffing in the blackness like her kind had done for generations.  Instinct told her to run, to seek shelter and comfort with her pack, but a sliver of her mind rebelled, pushing her onward. Pushing her TOWARD the danger rather than away from it.  

Part of her had always run headlong into danger, hadn’t it?  Had sought out her foes rather than fleeing from them? 

But that was not the way of her pack.  Not the way of her people.  Not the way of the Rougarou.  

Yet, it was HER way.  Somewhere deep in her mind, in her soul, she knew it.  Felt it. Lived it. 

She was the same as the other wolves, yet different somehow, and her mind snatched at memories that swirled like smoke.  She was so preoccupied by the conflicting images that she did not see the trap before it was too late. 

Her world was flung upside down, limbs and legs askew and caught within the snare of a huge white and gray net.  She bounced and jolted, suspended from a large, low hanging cypress tree that consisted of more moss than bark.  

She knew she ought to be terrified, that her skin ought to be burning from the silver-laced ropes, yet she did not cower or whimper.  Instead she shifted, twisting her body so she could view the world right-side up.

“Caught ya, monster,” a rough, gnarled voice rasped through the darkness, the burning end of a cigarette the only light besides the moon.  Still, with her wolf eyes, she could see him as he was: old, weathered, and mean.  An Angry man.  Evil.  

Scars of moonlight colored claw marks littered the left side of his face as he limped closer, a double barreled shotgun raised and pointed at her chest.  Still she did not flinch away, only cocked her head in curiosity.  Something about him, the burning red embers of his cigarette, sparked with familiarity and she fixated on the way the light dangled from his lips.

The man held a remote in his other hand and, as he pushed a button, the net rattled and jostled her as it tightened around her limbs.  It was uncomfortable, restricting, and almost claustrophobic, but not painful. Not like she knew it should have been.  Not like it had been the last time she’d been caught, when the animal that dominated her mind had screamed and raged before she'd been rescued by her pack.

Confused by the lack of pain, she blinked rapidly at the human, her green eyes glowing in the low light of the full moon.  The celestial body hung high in the dark sky, illuminating the clearings and casting deep shadows among the trees and brush.

“How do you like my trap, eh, beasty? Not too clever, are ya? Though you did manage to get into my sanctuary somehow.”  He came closer, squinting as he examined her.  “Ain’t never seen one of you demons with eyes like THAT before. Or that kinda stripe neither.”  His face was mere inches from hers, and she snapped her teeth at him with a growl that said, “back off” even if her voice couldn't form the words.  

He sneered at her viciousness.  “Bet you’ll fetch me a pretty penny at the underground market,” he commented, gnashing the last of his remaining yellow teeth together with a devious grin.  “Why don’t you change back, eh?  Betcha you’re a pretty young thing when you’re human.”

She looked down at her paws.  Had she ever been human?  All she knew - all she felt - was the animal.  The beast inside her mind was all consuming.  

And still, there was an insistence niggling inside her - that she had not always been this way.  That part of her ran toward danger, rather than away from it.  That she had once run toward some … one. A human someone. Someone warm, comforting, and safe.  

Someone with eyes like the embers that hung from the man's mouth… Smoldering eyes. 

Dark eyes.

A sharp poke in her side pulled her, snarling, from her ruminations.  She lunged, fangs clacking futilely against rope rather than flesh. The man cackled as she snapped and growled.  “Go ahead, monster,” he sneered.  “All that silver will just sear your flesh and set fire to your insides.  I’m surprised you haven’t started howling in pain yet.”

Howling.  Yes.  Howling was good.  Howling brought friends.  Brought family.  She lifted her head, giving a mournful cry toward the moon.  

“Go ahead, call the others.  Ain’t none of ‘em that’ll step foot in here.  Not with all that silver lining the ground.  Like my own little circle of salt, but made specially for monsters.  Werewolves, vampires, all kinds of nasties.  Don’t matter which beasties make their way here.  Ain’t none of ‘em gonna leave alive.  ‘Specially not you.” 

He raised his gun and fired, and for a split second she flinched, expecting the silver bullet to pierce through her skin, to flay her flesh from the inside out.  But the effect was more like a rough punch to the chest and she shook her head, screaming and howling with rage rather than pain.  

How was she alive?  Silver was the bane of the Rougarou’s existence, and a large part of why they’d gone into hiding so many years ago.  So why did it have no effect on her?  Why did it bounce right off her hide like oil on water?  

If the hunter’s look of astonished fright was anything to go by, he was wondering the same.  “What kinda devil are you?” he muttered, raising his gun again.  He fired, a second round exploding from his double barrel, but it was just as ineffective as the first. 

Still it ached, hurt like the time she’d been punched by someone bigger - much, much bigger than her. Someone protected by red metal that wasn't silver - and she wondered why she hadn't just sunk her teeth into the metal man.  For some reason she couldn’t fathom, she hadn't been able to use her teeth and claws on the faceless giant that swirled in her muddled memories.  

But, she could use her teeth now. She could use them on this net that bound her, and on this man that was trying his all-fired best to hurt her with his weapons.

Her jaws tore at the rope as the man repeatedly attacked, the silver blade of his knife glancing harmlessly off her head and ribs, shoulders and haunches, over and over again as he screamed in furious indignation and she yipped and whined in pain.  The weapon didn't slice her flesh, didn't burn and rend the way it should have, but it still hurt. Left her achy and bruised.  

Left her angry … and afraid.  

The fear pulled faintly, and the man staggered under the force of it.  Even though he did not cease in his quest - to destroy her like he had so many of her brothers and sisters - his blows still weakened with every second.  Even though his knife did nothing to harm her, it still cut through the last of the remaining ropes that kept her suspended from the tree.  

She landed on all fours just as he dropped, gasping, to his knees.  The blade slid from his hand, clattering uselessly onto the damp soil as she approached.  “Ain’t never … never met a monster like you b’fore,” he stuttered, trembling in terror.  “Killed dozens - hundreds - a’ werewolves, vampires.  Never seen a’ one like you.  What - what are you?”

~X~

Kurt teleported into an ancient, decrepit graveyard, some hundreds of years old.  Possibly older than the earliest settlers, judging by the native burial mounds and stone circles that marked ancient graves.  

Beside him, Gambit’s gaze roamed the overgrowth, rising and falling along the small hills that were sprinkled between red maple and sweetgum trees and overgrown swamp grass.  “Houma Indian cemetery,” Remy commented, distracted. “Used t’ be native to dese parts.  Dis is sacred ground.”

Nightcrawler shivered.  “It feels cursed. Desecrated.”

Remy nodded, but his red irises picked up a glint of silver a few yards away and jogged toward it.  He bent, grabbing up a handful of coins.  

“Vhat is it? Nightcrawler asked, peering over his brother-in-law’s shoulder. 

“Silver coins.  13 of ‘em,” Gambit replied. “Supposed t’ ward off de Rougarou.”

Kurt pointed to another pile a few feet away.  “Look, there are more. Garlic, too.  And… crosses?”

“Appears someone’s tryin’ to keep all de little beasties outta here.” Dark eyes flashed, scouring the darkness that surrounded moonlit patches.  As a light breeze shifted the moss-covered cypress, the smell of death and decay made Remy’s nose turn up.  “Som’pin’s been killed here,” he commented, “lotta som’pins by de smell.”

The two men followed the odor, leading them to a small shack tucked away in a dense part of the woods.  The door was secured, bolted with a few silver chains and padlocks, and Remy picked them easily.   The small wooden door creaked open, swinging wide as the stench of rot and decomposition in the hot, musty shack hit with all the force of a freight train.  Kurt gagged, covering his face with a furry arm while Remy held a fist under his nose to stifle his olfactory senses.

“Think we found where de hunter lives,” Gambit commented darkly.  Inside the shack, pelts and ‘trophies’ hung from the walls, with various metal shelves filled with jars of fangs, claws, and other various parts belonging to vampires and werewolves alike.  There was even a small framed corkboard filled with what looked like fairy wings.

“Mein gott,” Kurt gasped, fighting the urge to vomit as he lingered outside the door. “What manner of monster…?”

Remy picked up a sawed-off shotgun from the table. “If’n I had t’ guess, I’d say de human variety,” he muttered.  His voice was tight with tension as his thoughts turned to his wife.  They’d been largely unable to locate Rogue, and he was starting to fear the worst.  If the Rougarou thought she was one of these hunters…

A low, animalistic whine echoed from the back of the shed and Remy’s red eyes turned toward the sound, his cards already charged in his hand.  Instead of an enormous, terrifying beast, or a malicious hunter, however, he was met with small, bright white eyes.  

“ Mon Dieu ,” he breathed, his chest tightening.  A small child with long, dark hair - perhaps only six years old, peered at him from between the bars of a silver cage.  The X-Man moved toward the little one slowly, crouching low and speaking soft.  “Hey dere, petite . Don’t worry none,” he consoled the child.  “My name’s Remy.  I’m gonna get you outta dere, d’accord ?”  Whether it was his charm, his eyes, or his mannerisms, the child seemed unafraid of him and simply nodded lightly.  

He pulled his picks back out of his pocket and got to work on the silver lock.  “What’s your name, ma chère ?” he asked, moving much slower than normal while he tried to gauge the child’s reaction to his presence. Judging by the angry red welts and burns littering the exposed flesh, the pitiful creature was likely a Rougarou.  Eager as he was to free the child, he certainly didn’t want to be bitten.

“E - Evangeline.”  The girl’s voice was harsh and grated, whether from lack of use as a Rougarou, or from her time spent as a captive.  A tube top and skirt made of soft rabbit skins was her only clothing, and her hair was slightly matted.  She’d seemingly been well cared for until recently.

“ Bonjour, Evangeline,” he grinned widely.  “How long you been in dere, huh, ma fille ?” He clicked the lock open and began unwinding the silver infused chains from around the metal bars.  The child shrugged, her lower lip trembling.  

“Well, me an’ my friend Kurt here are gonna help getcha home, d’accord ?  But I do have ONE favor t’ ask.” He finished unwinding the chains and heaved them into a far corner, smiling as the girl relaxed somewhat.  “Can you promise not t’ bite or scratch me or my friend?  See, we’re mutants.  We already got our own special abilities, jus’ like you, and as fun as bein’ a Rougarou must be, we don’t wanna mix ‘em t’gether jus’ now, yeah?” 

The little girl pursed her lips together as Gambit swung the cage open.  Just inside the doorway, Kurt’s white fangs and yellow eyes glinted in the low light.  Evangaline’s dark eyes darted from Nightcrawler to Gambit, then back again, before she was off like a shot, running on knuckles and toes toward Kurt.  

The blue X-Man gasped as the girl latched onto his legs, hugging him tightly as she rubbed her face in his fur.  “Oh liebchen ,” Kurt soothed, running two fingers through her tangled hair.  “It is alright now child.”  He leaned down, letting the girl wrap her arms around his neck so he could pick her up.

“Well,” Remy grinned, joining the two as they carefully exited the shed.  “Looks like you made a …”

“OooooOoooo…”  A low, mournful cry sounded in the distance, echoing over the burial mounds bouncing across the hills and through the trees.  It wasn’t quite human, but not quite wolf.

“Vhat…?”  Kurt’s brow furrowed.  The little girl in his arms gave a yip and tilted her nose to the sky. Her canines elongated into sharp fangs, her dark eyes glinting in the light as her nose became more wolf-like. With a low howl of her own, she pointed to the west, where the moon was just starting to make its descent.  

The two X-Men shared a look. “Do you think we should…?” Nightcrawler questioned, readjusting the child on his hip. 

As eager as Gambit was to find Rogue, he nodded.  “Yeah.  Could be another of her kind is in trouble.  An’ my gut tells me if we help them, we help Rogue.”  

His stomach twisted as he considered the mounted heads that had been displayed in the shed.  If Rogue had been bitten - cursed - to become a Rougarou, then legend dictated she would spend the next 101 days living as one of them, unable to transform back into a human.  And after that?  Who knew if she would ever be able to live as an X-Man, or among other humans, again.

Remy increased his pace, jogging through the brush in whatever direction the child pointed.  Every so often they would have to stop and wait for her to sniff the air from the safety of Kurt’s arms.  For whatever reason, she vehemently refused to be put down.  He chalked it up to trauma, mostly.  She was thin, and soiled with more than just dirt after spending god only knew how long in that tiny cage.  

Just ahead, on the other side of another small burial mound, the sound of snarling and the faint scent of fresh blood wafted over the hill.  “Wait here,” Gambit instructed Nightcrawler as he held the anxious, squirming girl in his arms.  “I’ll go check it out.”  

Kurt tried once again to put the child down so he could provide backup, but she held tight to his neck, squeezing just hard enough to make breathing a challenge.  With a sigh, he nodded.  “Alright,” he agreed reluctantly.  “Just be careful, Gambit.”

Remy gave his friend a two fingered salute and raced silently up the hill. He swept around the far side, a little further from where the sounds originated, so that he could approach without being seen.  From the cover of a large, lichen covered elm, he peeked around the trunk.  

On the ground was a man, or what used to be a man, and a large enraged wolf standing over him.  Both of the figures were washed in dark, shimmery fluid, and even from this distance he could tell there was no hope for the sorry SOB.  A shotgun laid nearby, as well as a gleaming, unused silver knife.  The wolf stood over the motionless figure, snarling and snapping, just waiting for him to try and get up again.  

The wolf raised its head after a moment, sniffing the air before turning its furious gaze in Remy’s direction and growling furiously.  With a deep breath, the Cajun came out from behind the tree, one hand raised in a sign of peace while the other kept a tight grip on his bo staff.

“Easy now,” Gambit cooed. “Easy.  I ain’t here t’ hurt ya.  Just lookin’ for someone.” He shifted a bit, taking a cautious step backward, up the hill he had just climbed.  If he could get to Kurt, the three of them could teleport away before the blood-drunk beast killed anyone else.  

“Found a little girl, think she’s one of yours,” he conversed lightly. “She was in a cage in a shack nearby.  My friend and I got her out.  We’re looking for her family, same as we’re lookin’ for mine.”  A perfect stripe of white started in between the wolf’s eyes and flowed backwards, all the way to its neck.  

As the Rougarou approached slowly, its head low and hackles raised, Remy noted that its shimmering eyes weren’t white like the others.

They were bright, burning green.

Gasping, Remy’s knees buckled.  “Rogue?” he breathed, swallowing hard as tears pricked his dark eyes.  “ Ma chere ? Is dat you, amour ?”  

The creature did not respond, only continued advancing, stalking its new prey even while its last victim dripped from snarling jowls.  

“ Madness and cannibalism… ” 

Gambit’s fingers ghosted along the gem tucked away in his pocket. The dragon had warned him what would happen if he didn’t relinquish the eye.  That he would descend into madness, consuming his own family. Could it be that the curse of the gem had targeted his wife, instead?

“Evangeline! Don’t!” Kurt’s cry of alarm rang over the hilltop just as a small young wolf came leaping over the crest.  The pup hurtled toward Remy and the larger wolf - Rogue - just before the latter pounced on the former.

Standing between Gambit and the bigger female, the little Rougarou growled and snarled.  Kurt appeared in a puff of sulfur, standing just beside Remy with a hand on his shoulder.  “I think it’s time we go, mein freund ,” he whispered. “Before that thing eats YOU for dessert.” His two-fingered hand tightened on Gambit’s shoulder, ready to teleport away.

“ Non ,” Remy choked back a sob.  “S’ Rogue, Kurt. Dat ‘Thing’ … is Rogue.”  Dark eyes smoldered, burning with emotion as he watched the two females in desperation.  

In her wolf form, little Eva yipped and barked at his wife.  His mind raced with half-formed thoughts. Could there be a cure?  Perhaps if Wolverine touched her, made her absorb him?  There were things they could try, but they would need to find a way to get Rogue home, first, without her harming anyone else.  

Dark eyes flitted toward the corpse under the tree.  If - WHEN - they found a way to make her human again, she would be devastated.  Even if she’d been under the influence of the Rougarou’s curse, she had killed someone.  It would haunt her.

Finally, after several long minutes, Evangeline stood on her hind legs, spine curving and cracking, fur melting off bare arms and legs.  Her claws thickened into tawny colored fingers and toes.  The child stared at Rogue’s werewolf form in confusion before turning back toward her rescuers.

“She is not one of my pack,” the girl’s husky grate informed them. “I cannot communicate with her very well. She is new to the ways of the wolf.”  Evangeline frowned.  “She smells … strange. Not human, but … not one of us.” Her small dark head tipped toward the mangled hunter laying under the cypress tree.  “That is the man who captured me and killed some of my pack. He hunted the vampires, too. Whoever this is,” the young Rougarou gestured toward Rogue. “She is a hero to our people.  Just like you.”  The girl smiled lightly for a moment, then frowned at the sadness and horror on the men’s faces.  

“She’s my wife,” Gambit swallowed hard, tears pricking his eyes.  “I’d know those green eyes anywhere, no matter what form she’s in."  He wanted nothing more than to ask Evangeline to bite him right here, right now, just so he could be with Rogue.  The curious distrust blinking at him from those big green eyes wrenched at his soul.

“I - I’m sorry,” the little girl’s eyes were wide, frightened as she looked between her ‘saviors,’ unsure if they would turn on her.  Unsure if they would seek vengeance for the loss of their loved one.  

“It is … not your fault liebchen ,” Kurt murmured, watching his sister sadly.  “But we should go.  There are others - our pack - that we need to protect from yours.  I’m afraid your people believe we are the hunters, and are trying to harm those we’ve left behind.”

The little girl nodded in understanding, her dark, innocent eyes wide.  “If they think you’re the ones who took me…  We need to run fast, but there’s silver here - all over.  It hurts.”  Her chin wobbled even as she tried to keep a brave face.

Kurt frowned, reaching his arms out for the girl in silent question.  Evangeline answered by leaping gratefully up into his arms.  She was careful not to scratch him even as her little fingers clung to his fur. “I can transport us all in a blink,” he assured her. “It’s the fastest way, though maybe not the most pleasant.”

“You two go on,” Gambit urged, never taking his eyes from Rogue.  “I’mma bet she ain’t gonna let us near enough t’ teleport her, and ya need t’ get back t’ Haven House tout suite . (right away)  Bring Logan back here, soon as ya can.” 

“Remy,” Kurt spoke earnestly.  “Are you certain?  I do not want you to do anything rash.”

“I’m just gonna sit and talk to my wife.”  An attempt at a grin teased at the corner of his mouth, but the gesture was just as brittle and frail as the words behind it.  “You two go stop a war, ‘fore there’s any more casualties.”  His stomach felt like he’d swallowed all the mud and muck in the bayou.  “We’ll be fine here, won’t we ma colombe ?” He tried to sound calm as he watched Rogue’s bright, wolf-like eyes glance between them. 

With a final glance at his sister and brother-in-law, Kurt nodded.  “Alright.  Hold on little one,” he spoke softly to Evangeline, then disappeared in a cloud of dark smoke.  

Wolf-Rogue startled to her feet, snarling and snapping at the place where Kurt had just been standing.  

“Easy chère , easy.” Remy held his hands out at waist level, trying to calm his wife’s inner canine. “It’s just Nightcrawler.  You know him, mon amour .  Your brother, Kurt, remember?”

Green eyes shifted distrustingly, but she didn’t run or attack, which was a point in his favor.  If she took off, he doubted he could keep up with her, even though her bright eyes radiated with exhaustion. And, if she tried to hurt him, well, he wasn’t going to stand a chance against a super powered, invulnerable werewolf.

He swallowed hard, unsure if he should sit, stand, or just stay perfectly still.  At least she was a little calmer after her ‘chat’ with Evangeline.  If that’s even what it was. It had sounded more like a couple of canines hankering for a barnyard brawl.  God he hoped Kurt hurried.  With any luck, the blue-furred mutant would return with Wolverine in five minutes or less, he would ‘heal’ her of the Rougarou’s curse, and they could end the night with peach cobbler and ice cream.  

And if not… Well, maybe they could trap Rogue in the basement until they could find a cure.

He swallowed hard as he locked eyes with the canine form of his wife.  She never blinked, never shifted her gaze away from him, and he took it as a good sign.  The Rougarou were supposed to be intelligent - maintaining their human minds even when they shifted in and out of wolf form.  According to legend, the newly ‘made’ wolves were the most unpredictable and violent, unable to change back into human form for almost half a year.  And, by the time they learned how to shift in and out of their animal shape, most were utterly feral and chose to stay with the pack rather than return to human society. 

He couldn’t lose her - not like that.  He’d rather become a wolf himself and roam the wilds of the swamps at her side than lock her away with silver shackles. Tears leaked from his eyes as he finally sat down on the damp hillside, waiting.  What he was waiting for, he didn’t know.  He only knew that he wasn’t going to leave his Rogue.  That he would fight for her.

“It’s me, Rogue. Your Remy,” he smiled sadly, mimicking the words she’d spoken to him at the gates of the Overworld, when he’d been so certain he was dead or dying.  He longed to hold her now the same way she’d held him then, safe, and warm, and consoling.  “Looks like you done stepped in it dis time girl,” he chided with a soft smile.  “Always runnin’ off, playin’ de hero without a plan, yeah?”  His eyes burned, smoldering embers in an abyss of ebony as he swallowed back another lump of emotion. “Always leavin’ me behind.”

Hot tears trailed down his face, but he did not wipe them away.  Instead he stayed motionless, sitting on the grass with one leg bent and the other straight out, toes pointed in her direction. The moon was inching down toward the western horizon, stretching the shadows into long, grotesque shapes. His soul was as dark and heavy as those shadows while she watched him, bright green eyes piercing him from within the visage of a wolf.  

“ Mon coeur," his Cajun lilt crooned, mournful and hopeful.  “Ya promised you’d always find your way back t’ me, remember?  Dat no matter how far you run, you’ll always make your way home…”

~X~

She tilted her head, first one way, then another, trying to understand the creature sitting before her.  He wasn’t afraid, didn’t reek of the terror and evil of the one who had hurt her, but the wolf did not trust him all the same.  Not completely. Not yet.

Despite her suspicious nature, something about him was calming. Familiar. Comforting.  

Those burning red eyes made her want to crawl up next to him, put her head in his lap, and let him soothe her.  She could get lost in those smoldering red eyes.  Thoughts of the pack, of the beast inside, faltered and faded in the wake of those penetrating eyes.  Her gaze never left his, even as she cocked her head this way and that, unable to fully understand his human speech, yet moved by the sentiment behind his unfamiliar words.  

A salty smelling wetness trailed over the man’s cheeks, and his grief twisted at her heart, stirring up something inside her - something human.  

“Roooo,” she let out a low, sorrowful whine as his red eyes leaked.  But her attempt at empathy only intensified his emotions, and he repeated a single word over and over. 

“Rogue.  Rogue. Rogue. Rogue…  Please remember, chère,” he pleaded, lifting a hand toward her.  “Please remember who you are. Remember me. Remember us.”

Taking a cautious step forward, she sniffed lightly at his extended fingers. They smelled … familiar.  Like crawfish and cayenne, and … home. Images of the man - flashes of sinful smiles and comforting hugs, of listening to his heart beat and staring into those red eyes - flitted across her mind, mingling with those of the pack, her family. 

Family.  They felt like family, those red eyes. Those smoldering eyes… those dark eyes.

Her lungs heaved as more and more impressions stamped across her mind, leaving blurry outlines of long-forgotten memories. Memories of him.

Memories of dancing in their bedroom; of cuddling up with him, warm and soft, in their bed; of kissing him senseless.  Of those dark eyes.  

HER Dark Eyes.

A sharp huff escaped her lungs as she let the images wash over her, and she suddenly lunged, launching herself at the man.  He did not flinch, did not attempt to push her off or push her away, and instead only winced, gasping, as she pinned him down against the musty ground.

“I will always be your home and harbor, Anna Marie ,” he spoke to her softly.  Those dark eyes - HER dark eyes - glittered with unshed tears.  “ No matter what, ma colombe .  Je t’aime .”  He raised his hand to her, offering his forearm as if expecting her to bite it.  

When she nudged his palm with her muzzle instead, his brows furrowed in confusion as he blinked away the shine.  “ Rogue ?” he whispered, breath catching.  

She laid her head down on his chest as gently as she could, even while she watched his face intently.  “Can - can you hear me, chère ?  Do you … Do you UNDERSTAND me ?”

With a happy little yip, her long, canine tongue lapped at his chin, his cheeks, his ears, until he was laughing.  She could feel her rump wiggle as her tail wagged like mad at the joyful sound.  This was her family.  Her pack.  Her home.  Her Dark Eyes.  

Despite her current form, she wasn’t a Rougarou at all.  She was HIS. And, she was human.

She was… Rogue.

The woman who ran TOWARD danger.  The woman who fought to keep her loved ones safe, even if it meant sacrificing herself.  The woman who would do anything to protect her family.

The woman who had…

Her long muzzle and broad head lifted from Remy’s chest, and she turned, staring toward the large cypress which was fully consumed by shadows. Beneath the dark tree laid a black mass - something vaguely human shaped, but no longer recognizable.  

A string of deep, sorrowful whines rumbled in her chest, and Gambit’s hands cradled either side of her long snout, forcing her to turn toward him.  

“ Ain’t your fault mon coeur ,” he reassured her, planting a kiss on the stripe of white that adorned her forehead.  “ Dat wasn’t you, mon ange.”  He stroked a hand from her forehead across and down her ear, imitating the times he had done the same thing with her hair when she was human.  “ Don’t you worry, non, Rogue,” he reassured her as she laid her large, heavy head in his lap, curling alongside him.  “I’m here.  It’s gonna be alright now. ”

~X~

The sun was just about to peek above the eastern horizon when Kurt, Logan, Jubilee, and all four of the Outliers returned to the ancient burial ground.  They looked a little worse for wear - a little muddier and a LOT more exhausted - but they were uninjured.  

Haven House had been under siege when Kurt had returned with little Evangeline in tow, and it had taken a great deal of effort to explain the situation to the leader of the Rougarou.  Then the vampires had come, waging a war of their own against the werewolves, whom they presumed were responsible for the deaths and disappearances of their own kin.  All in all, it had taken a while to settle everything, but both groups of ‘monsters’ had departed peacefully in the end without any further casualties.

The group of mutants crested the hill, unsure of what they would find.  Unsure if their teammates would both be alive, or if they were running through the woods together as newly made werewolves.  

Kurt smiled, sighing in relief and raising his eyes in a silent prayer of thanks as he spied Gambit and Rogue, curled up together in sleep.  Rogue’s mud-caked limbs were sprawled over his chest and legs, with Remy’s coat wrapped around her like a blanket.  Auburn hair with white streaks rustled in the pre-dawn breeze, caressing the pale flesh of her cheek as her lithe fingers clung to his uniform.  

Even in sleep Gambit held tight to Rogue, the tiniest of smiles gracing his peacefully sleeping face.  

After all, no monster on earth could combat the power of their love.

~X~

“Alright Cajun,” Rogue announced the following night after everyone else had gone to bed.  “Ransom and Jitter brought back the most supplies from the scavenger hunt last night.  So it’s time t’ pay up, husband.”  The southern belle’s wide smile punctuated the mischievousness that danced in her eyes as she slid her hands around Gambit’s bare waist.  Despite Marcus’s insistence on ‘britches,’ Remy’s natural temperature ran too hot for him to wear anything more than boxers to bed.  

“Hmm,” the Cajun man raised an eyebrow at her.  “Don’t feel like dat was much of a fair competition, mon coeur, ” he murmured, kissing her nose.  “ Mais , you know I’d do anything f’r you , chère .”  

Rogue’s long nightshirt - one of Remy’s old dresshirts - bunched up as his hands anchored against her waist, pulling her closer.  Popping up on her toes, she ran her fingers through his long brown locks before pulling him down for a searing kiss. “Then buckle up, partner, ‘cause you and I are gonna dance all night,” she whispered huskily in his ear.  

“As my lady wishes,” Gambit smirked, spinning her out and back again in a move that was reminiscent of an elegant waltz, but with the speed and pep of a swing step.  Rogue giggled, molding herself to his chest as they padded across the floor, twirling and dancing over the hardwood.  

“Hey!” Jubilee rapped on the sturdy oak door, her voice cutting through the softly playing music.  “Will you two PLEASE cut it out?!  Seriously, you cannot be at it AGAIN! It’s midnight for crying out loud!  Some of us need SLEEP.”

Remy opened the door somewhat, Rogue still framed inside his arms in a modified version of a waltzing pose.  “Sorry, petite ,” he shrugged nonchalantly.  “De lady gets what de lady wants - leastways when she wins a bet.”

Jubilee grumbled while Rogue pressed her face into her husband’s chest to suppress a giggle.  “Well, will you at least PLEASE refrain from anything quick and bubbly?” the asian girl begged, rubbing her eyes.  “The whole floor shakes when you guys do those crazy sambas and whatnot.”

Remy looked down at his wife, who gave him an impish wink.  “Yeah,” he agreed with a smile and a nod.  “Think we can keep it to a slow waltz for t’night.”

Jubilee rolled her eyes, giving an exasperated sigh.  “Thank you!”

“But Rogue’s promised t’ let me pick for t’morrow night, so no promises,” Gambit chuckled as the girl turned to walk away.

Jubilee paused in the hallway, then whirled, her face scrunched up in disgust.  “Really?” she whined.

Chuckling, Rogue nodded.  “He DID save me from the monsters, after all.”  She leaned up to kiss him on the cheek.  “Figure that deserves some kinda reward.”

“Ugh,” Jubilation groaned, smacking a palm to her forehead.  “But does it HAVE to be Dungeons and Dragons of all things?  Can’t you guys watch a Star Trek marathon or something? Those online dungeon masters are so loud.  And DRAMATIC. And they always have those stupid sound effects that shake the whole freakin’ house.”

“We’ll try t’ keep it down, sugah,” Rogue winked, one hand reaching back to close the door as she led Remy back to their impromptu dance floor.

From down the hall, Jubilee shook her head.  “Married people are SO weird.”

~X~X~X~X~X