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She finds him in the sewers, shaking and covered in blood and alone.
"Storm! Wolvie!" Rogue yells as she rushes towards the figure, hoping the two older X-Men are still nearby. "I got a live one!"
The figure is curled on their side, their back to Rogue, but she can hear the sobs. She kneels down when she's close and tries to turn them over.
"No," they moan.
"Hey, hey, it's okay, sugah, I got ya," she says, voice low and soothing. She finally gets them to turn on their back, and she takes a look. It's a man—a boy? She can't really tell, because his face is so swollen. He has bruises forming all over, cuts and slashes actively bleeding everywhere she can see.
"No," he sobs again, his eyes squeezed shut. "No, no."
"It's okay, it's okay. You're gonna be okay." She can hear Storm and Wolverine rushing towards them, their footsteps splashing in the blood and waste flooding the sewer grounds. "He looks bad. Real bad," she says, turning her neck so she can look back at her teammates as they approach.
"Think you can move him safely?" Logan asks.
Rogue checks him over. "I think so. Maybe?"
"We'll have to take that risk. Fly him back to the others, Rogue, quick as you can," Storm says, and Rogue begins scooping him up immediately. "Get him to Moira."
"Got it, boss." Rogue scoops him into her arms and lifts up into the air, making her way quickly back towards the mansion.
The man starts wiggling in her arms like a fussy baby. "Hey, sugah, hey, I got you. I'm takin' you somewhere safe, okay? We got a doctor to look at you."
The man keeps squirming, like he wants to be dropped. "Leave me."
Rogue grips him tighter. "What? No. You're hurt, you need help."
"Don't deserve it." He's still crying.
"Look at me, hey." He shakes his head, his face crumpling even more. "It's gonna be okay. We're almost there. What's your name?"
"Don't matter."
"It does to me."
He's silent for a moment. "Gambit."
"Gambit. I'm Rogue. I'm part of the X-Men."
He jolts suddenly, and Rogue almost drops him. She scrambles to keep her grip. "Stop! Gambit, stop!" She considers using her powers on him just to get him to stop moving, but in this state, it's highly probable he wouldn't survive her touch.
She finally sees the light of the mansion basement and speeds up, just trying to get him there before he hurts himself even more.
"Moira!" she yells, bursting through the hole to their makeshift infirmary. "I need help! Callisto, I found someone!"
She puts Gambit down on the floor with the other wounded, and Moira rushes over, Magneto and Callisto following soon after.
"Found him off by himself," she tells Callisto. Moira kneels down on the other side of Gambit's body to examine him. "He's—he's talking nonsense, wanted me to leave him there. Might have a head injury?"
"I led 'em there."
Rogue and Moira look down. Gambit's eyes are open—the first time Rogue has seen his eyes since she found him.
His eyes are the darkest black she's ever seen, with blood red pupils. They're haunting. Demonic. And beautiful.
"He's not one of mine," Callisto says.
"What?" Rogue asks.
"The Marauders. I—I showed 'em the way. To the Morlocks." Tears are streaming down his face, mixing with blood and dirt. "They're dead 'cause of me." And then he passes out.
He wakes with a start, trying to move, to sit up, but he hurts too much. He doesn't know where he is.
"Hey, hey," a nearby voice says, and hands gently shove him back down. "Don't move. You're hurt."
Gambit looks towards the voice, sees a girl around his age sitting on the floor next to him. She's beautiful, with bright green eyes, freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks, and messy brown hair that has a shocking white streak through it.
"You remember me? I found you in the tunnels. You're safe now."
It comes back to him after a moment. "Rogue."
She smiles gently at him. "Yeah, that's me. And you're Gambit?"
"Remy."
"Remy. That's a nice name."
"You can cut the act."
"Huh?"
"The Morlocks—died 'cause of me. Don't gotta treat me. Don't gotta be nice to me. Jus' leave me here. I don't deserve nothin' more."
"Remy. See that lady?" Rogue points across the room, and Gambit follows her finger to see a woman dressed in pink with bright purple hair. "That's Psylocke. She's a telepath. She read your mind. We got the whole story."
"So you know I don' deserve to be alive."
"I know you didn't know what they were gonna do."
"Should've. Anyone with half a brain could figure out what that group was supposed to do."
"Maybe," Rogue concedes. "But Betsy said you… been through a lot recently. With your family."
His eyes start stinging, and he closes them, tries to choke off the sob in his throat.
"She didn't say more. But… look, I know all about makin' mistakes. And hurtin' people," she says. "I hurt a lot of people."
He opens his eyes again to look at her. "You?"
She nods. "Yeah. You and I, we could write a book about it. Been down the same roads. A lot of the people here have."
"Find that hard to believe."
Rogue just looks at him silently for a moment, assessing. "You Cajun?"
He starts a bit at the change in topic. "Yeah."
"From Louisiana?" He nods. "I'm a Mississippi gal myself. We're neighbors."
If this was any other time, he'd have a quick line and a sharp smile for her. "Oh."
"How old're you?"
"Twenty."
"I'm nineteen."
"Oh."
"How're you feelin'?"
"Like I got my ass beat by a group of mutant killers."
She cracks a small smile. "Well, ya did. You're gonna be okay, though. Doctor told me so herself. Just gonna need lotsa rest. You can stay with us."
"What?" he asks, incredulous. "After what I did?"
"Like I said. You're not the only person here who's made mistakes." She grabs his hand—she's wearing smooth cotton gloves. "You'll be safe here. But you don't gotta stay if you don't want."
"I—" his throat closes up, and he's so tired. "I don't know how."
"How to what?"
"How to stay," he says. "How to be safe."
"That's okay," she says. "I'll teach you."