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Rogue had been watching Remy laugh for almost five minutes before she realized she was doing it.
It was not the careful laugh he had been giving people since he came back, the one that seemed to appear whenever somebody asked him how he was doing and he decided the easiest answer was to make a joke.
This one had come from somewhere deeper. Jubilee had said something about Logan attempting to dance at the last team celebration, and Remy had nearly choked on his drink trying not to laugh. His head had fallen forward, shoulders shaking, and for a few seconds he had looked so much like the man Rogue remembered that something inside her loosened.
They were at a formal mutant gathering, the sort of event Rogue would once have avoided if she could, but these days she was making an effort to bring Remy with her into the wider world. He had spent too much time alone since coming back, either holed up in their room, in the medical wing with Hank, or sitting somewhere quiet with his eyes fixed on nothing while the rest of the mansion carried on around him. Jubilee had helped with that more than anyone realized. She had dragged him out of the house, made him laugh, made him complain, and treated him like he was still Gambit instead of somebody everyone needed to handle carefully.
Tonight, he was doing better.
Not perfectly. Rogue could still see the little ways his body betrayed him if she watched closely.
After standing for a while, Remy would shift his weight without seeming to notice, and whenever the ache in his ribs caught him unexpectedly, the corner of his mouth would tighten before he covered it with another joke. He had developed a habit of finding somewhere to sit whenever there was an excuse, lowering himself into a chair with a quiet care that told Rogue he was hurting more than he wanted anyone to know. Even now, while he laughed with Jubilee, his eyes occasionally wandered toward the doors and windows, taking in the room before returning to the conversation.
But none of that had stopped him from being here tonight. He was laughing, genuinely laughing, and had spent the better part of twenty minutes arguing with Jubilee over whether some song from her childhood could actually be considered music, until she threatened to throw her drink at him and Remy told her she was only proving his point.
Rogue had never thought she would be grateful for an argument like that.
She was still smiling when Emma Frost approached her.
Rogue saw her coming before Emma said anything. She moved through a crowd the way she did everything else; with the confidence of someone who had never once considered whether she was welcome in a room. Her white dress caught the light as she approached, and there was something almost amused in her expression.
“Rogue.”
“Emma.”
Emma glanced toward Remy, and Rogue followed her gaze.
“What do you think?” Emma asked.
Rogue’s expression tightened. “About what?”
“Your Cajun.”
There was something about the way Emma said it that made Rogue immediately protective. “He’s doing fine.”
“I can see that.” Emma’s eyes remained on Remy. “And no concerns?”
“About?” Rogue replied, icily.
“You don’t have to play coy with me. If you’re worried about the possibility of residual influence from Apocalypse, I could help.”
Rogue’s stomach tightened. Is that what everyone was wondering? She’d known some of the X-Men had had their concerns, but Remy had been back for months. They were past this. Or at least, she’d thought they were. For the rumors to reach even Emma Frost was concerning.
“We’re not.”
Emma raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t even hear my offer.”
“Don’t need to.”
Emma looked back at Remy. “His mind has been through something extraordinary. If there is anything left of Apocalypse’s presence, you should know.”
Rogue folded her arms. She was done listening to this. Emma was never one to take no for an answer. “I’ll talk to Remy.”
Emma looked at her, surprised at the sudden change. But then, she smiled. “Of course.”
There was a pause.
“Maybe,” Rogue added. “But I’m not promising anythin’. I’ll talk to him first.”
“I understand.”
Rogue watched her go, then looked back toward Remy. As far as she was concerned, there was no decision to make. No one was going inside Remy’s head again.
Not Emma. Not Charles. Not Jean.
Nobody.
Remy had been doing his best.
That was what he kept telling himself as he slipped away from the crowd.
He had lasted longer than he thought he would. Jubilee had kept him laughing, Rogue had stayed nearby, and for once he had not spent the entire evening wondering whether everybody in the room was watching him.
But the noise had begun to build. There were too many voices, too many bodies. He’d used to love these mutant parties. But now, there were too many doors and windows and people moving behind him.
He found a quiet hallway away from the main room and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes for a moment.
Just breathe. That was all. He would go back in a few minutes.
“Remy.”
He opened his eyes. Emma Frost stood at the other end of the hallway. He gave her a polite smile.
“Miss Frost.”
“I was looking for you.”
“That’s flatterin’, but you ain’t heard? Gambit’s spoken for,” he drawled, nodding lazily toward the ballroom. “Better go ’n find mi amor.”
Emma stopped in front of him. “I wanted to offer you my help.”
“Appreciate the offer, chère, but Gambit’s fine.”
Emma studied him. “Are you sure about that?”
His smile faded. The glint in her eyes was making him uneasy. With a sigh, he pushed himself away from the wall.
“I’m sure.”
“I could look into your mind.”
“No.”
The answer came quickly enough that Emma’s eyebrows rose. It had been instinctual, before the question had even fully registered in his mind, but somehow he had known this was where she was heading. She was always working an angle.
Remy straightened. “Don’t need nobody lookin’ in my head.”
“This isn’t mere curiosity,” she countered, clicking her tongue. “Rogue sent me.”
He blinked. “Rogue?”
“She’s concerned about you.”
Remy glanced toward the ballroom, searching for Rogue among the crowd. “She okay?”
Emma only stepped closer. “None of us are okay until we know for certain that Apocalypse is out of your head.”
He went very still. His stomach dropped. “He’s out.”
“You don’t know that.”
Remy could only at her. For a moment, he looked past her toward the ballroom again. Rogue was somewhere in there.
“She wouldn’t send you.”
Emma’s voice softened. “This is for her.”
He shook his head, making to walk away, and calling over his shoulder, “Gambit said no.” He needed to find Rogue, now.
Before he could put some distance between them, Emma’s hand shot out and she caught him in a grip as hard as diamonds. Her skin glittered.
“You understand what everyone is worried about.”
His jaw tightened. “I know.”
“Then you understand why I need to know.”
He couldn’t pull away from her. Not without risking breaking his shoulder. Despite himself, panic burned through him. He could take her, he was sure, but at what cost? For every mutant to witness Apocalypse’s puppet lose control and hurt one of their own?
Emma pulled him closer, forcing him to stumble back. “If Apocalypse left something behind…”
“He didn’t.”
But Emma’s other hand was already coming up, grazing his cheek with long, gentle fingers.
“After Genovia, I have no intention of standing by while a potential threat remains unchecked.”
“Ain’t a threat.”
“I need to see for myself.”
Emma reached for his mind.
The hallway disappeared.
For a moment, Remy was nowhere. Then there was purple. Too much purple.
Light burned through everything.
He couldn’t move. But he could hear something. There was a voice that was not his. It was a cruel voice.
His body was somewhere beneath him, distant and heavy, moving without permission.
He felt pain. He felt his own hands as they moved the cards. He was hurting someone. There were familiar voices and familiar screams.
The memory changed.
He was trapped again. The purple light grew brighter. Something enormous was standing over him.
Then Emma’s presence pushed through it.
Remy gasped. He felt the ripple of reality and grasped for it. “Get out.”
Emma’s voice came from somewhere far away. “Remy, I’m only looking.”
“No.” Somewhere far away, somewhere real, his hands flew to his head. “Get out.”
“I’m trying to determine if Apocalypse left anything behind.”
“He ain’t in me.”
“Then there should be nothing to fear.”
Remy’s breath caught. She was wrong. She didn’t understand. His memories were not hers. His fear was not hers. The things he had survived did not belong to her.
He’d sworn no one else would ever take over his mind again.
“S’il te plaît Emma, arrête.” Please Emma, stop.
Emma paused. Remy opened his eyes.
The hallway was back, but it was wrong. The walls seemed to be closing around him. At some point, she’d dropped him against the wall, and he was on his knees.
Emma was staring at him “You’re frightened?”
“Back away, ‘fore Gambit hurts you,” he growled, gasping for air. “I said no.”
She pushed deeper.
Remy’s heart slammed against his ribs. The purple light returned, and suddenly he was trapped again, unable to move, unable to stop it, unable to get out.
Power surged beneath his skin, hot and restless. Remy forced it down. He clenched his fists and dragged every bit of it back, refusing to let even a spark escape. His whole body trembled with the effort.
He knew what would happen if he let it loose.
Everyone would see the same thing he saw when he looked at himself. A man who had lost control. A weapon Apocalypse had turned against them. Someone they would have to fear.
And if he hurt Emma, even after everything she had done, they would have another reason to look at him that way.
He couldn’t do that.
His breathing came in short, painful gasps as he fought to keep his power buried. It felt like trying to hold back a storm with his bare hands, every instinct in his body screaming at him to release it.
Instead, he looked at Emma. “Gambit no wana hurt you. Don’t make me.”
His voice was strained but steady.
Emma only watched him carefully. “Remy, I need you to stay calm.”
He laughed once, breathlessly, without any humor in it. “That’s real funny.”
Emma took another step.
Then Logan was there.
The impact sent Emma across the room.
“Get away from the Cajun!”
Remy barely understood the words. He stayed on the floor, hands shaking as the energy beneath his skin slowly began to fade, the threat gone now, leaving his body exhausted in its wake.
He heard Logan’s claws strike, then the heavy impact of another blow.
Voices erupted around him, startled shouts mixing with the scrape of shoes as people ran into the hallway, only to stumble backward and hurry out of the way.
Then Logan’s voice cut through everything, rough and unmistakable.
“You heard him say no.”
Logan stood between him and Emma. Her diamond form gleamed beneath the lights.
“You have no idea what I’m trying to prevent,” she snapped.
Logan’s claws were out. “I know exactly what you’re doing.”
Emma barely had time to react before a familiar voice cut through the room.
“Remy?”
He looked toward the doorway. Rogue stood there, her eyes immediately finding him on the floor.
For one second, she froze.
Then she saw Emma.
Remy pushed himself up from the floor, one hand braced against his knee as he struggled to get his legs beneath him. His body felt heavy and unsteady, but he refused to stay down with everyone watching. He managed to straighten, though his breathing was still uneven and his hands trembled at his sides.
Rogue crossed the room quickly, her eyes fixed on him. “Remy, Sugah, what happened?”
He glanced at Emma, then back at Rogue, forcing a crooked smile onto his face. “Little misunderstanding, chère. Nothin’ Gambit couldn’t handle.”
Rogue stared at him.
Remy shrugged, trying to make it sound like it was nothing.
“Emma wanted to have a look around in Gambit’s head. Told her no. She got a little stubborn, is all.”
His voice came out light. He kept his hands loose at his sides, hoping Rogue wouldn’t notice the tremor running through them or the way every breath still caught painfully in his chest. He knew that smile was not fooling her. Rogue had always been too good at seeing through him.
“Remy.”
“I’m fine.”
“You ain’t.”
Rogue’s eyes moved to Emma.
Emma straightened, still in diamond form.
“She was in your head.”
Remy sighed. “Chère, don’t make a whole thing outta it.”
But Rogue was already standing. Her expression had gone cold.
“Rogue…”
She turned toward Emma.
“You don’t touch him.”
Emma’s expression hardened.
“Rogue, you’re allowing your attachment to cloud your judgment.”
Rogue’s fists clenched.
“You don’t get to talk about him either.”
Emma barely had time to raise her hands.
Rogue hit her.
The force of the blow sent Emma stumbling backward, diamond cracking beneath the impact.
“Rogue!” Remy and Logan both cried out together.
She struck her again. Another crack spread across Emma’s shoulder.
“You don’t even look at him.”
Another punch. A fracture raced across Emma’s chest.
“You don’t go inside his head.”
Emma staggered. Rogue grabbed her by the front of her dress and slammed her against the wall.
“And you sure as hell don’t get to decide he’s a threat.”
Emma tried to push her away, but Rogue caught her arm and drove one final punch into the cracked diamond surface of her chest. The fracture spread instantly, racing outward in a web of white lines before Emma’s diamond form finally gave way. Shards scattered across the floor as she stumbled backward, her human form returning beneath the broken remains of the transformation.
“Enough!”
Storm’s voice cut through the room with enough force to stop everyone where they stood.
The command carried something deeper than authority. For all her usual composure, there was anger in her expression now, sharp and unmistakable.
“That is enough,” she said again, quieter this time, but somehow more commanding. “Rogue. We show mercy to our enemies.”
Rogue’s chest was still rising and falling hard. She looked as though she wanted to argue, but Storm’s gaze held hers for a moment before softening.
She stepped away from Emma.
Logan remained between them for another moment, his claws still extended, before slowly lowering his hand. His sleeve was torn, blood running in a thin line from his temple, but he barely seemed to notice as the cut sealed.
He looked around the room.
“Everybody listen up.”
The frantic whispering that had filled the room stopped instantly. Logan’s eyes moved across the gathered mutants before settling briefly on Remy.
“That was outta line.”
Nobody answered. Logan’s jaw tightened.
“Spread the word. If you mess with the Cajun, you get the X-Men.”
Gambit’s eyebrows shot up. Logan had always been one of the first to make his dislike of him known, even before Apocalypse. Hearing him say that now, in front of everyone, caught Remy off guard. For a moment, he could only stare at him, unsure what to make of the sudden loyalty from a man who had spent years treating him with suspicion.
A few people shifted uneasily, the weight of Logan’s words settling over the room.
He continued.
“Don’t matter what you think you saw tonight. Don’t matter what you think might be in his head. You don’t get to decide he’s dangerous and start treating him like some kinda enemy.” His gaze hardened. “I trust that Cajun more than I trust a lotta people standing in this room.”
Remy was still staring at him, too stunned to answer. He barely noticed Rogue crossing the room until her hand found his. Her fingers slipped carefully between his, warm and familiar, and Remy looked down at their joined hands before looking back toward Logan.
“He’s done more for this team than most of you have ever done for him. He put his life on the line for people who didn’t always trust him. So don’t stand here acting like he owes you proof that he belongs.”
Storm moved closer to Remy while Logan spoke. She did not touch him, but she placed herself beside him, close enough that he could feel her presence. There was no mistaking the message she was sending to the room. Ororo was standing with Gambit, and everyone knew exactly whose side she was on.
Logan’s voice grew rougher as he turned to Emma. “There’s no fooling these ears. That Cajun showed you mercy when I wouldn’t have. You oughta remember that.”
For a moment, nobody spoke. The room seemed to absorb Logan’s words all at once, the murmurs that had begun to build dying away as people looked toward Remy with something different in their expressions. Remy remained still, his fingers curled loosely around Rogue’s hand, staring at Logan, still trying to understand what he had just heard.
Mercy was not a word Remy had expected anyone to use about him, least of all Logan. He had spent so long expecting people to remember the worst things he had done that hearing someone describe his restraint instead left him strangely unsteady. He looked down at Rogue’s hand in his, then back toward the room.
He had expected suspicion.
He had expected someone to say that Emma had been right to check, that perhaps he should have fought back, that perhaps they should have been afraid of what he might do.
Instead, Storm stood beside him.
Logan defended him.
And the room was listening.
A quiet voice came from the crowd.
“He is one of us.”
Colossus stood near the back of the room, his expression solemn. “I have fought beside Remy many times. He has never abandoned his team.”
Laura, appearing from the shadows, stepped forward next. “He has saved my life.” Her eyes moved toward Remy. “More than once.”
Remy stared at her.
Someone else murmured their agreement. Then another. The words began to overlap, quiet at first, but growing as more people spoke. They remembered missions. They remembered things Remy had done for them. People he had protected. Times he had stayed behind when he could have walked away.
Remy listened.
He had spent so long thinking about the people who had looked at him and seen a thief, an assassin, a traitor, a man who had done terrible things before becoming an X-Man. He had spent so much time since his return wondering when the team would finally look at him and decide that he had become too dangerous to keep around.
He had never stopped to consider that maybe they had already made their choice, and they had chosen him.
Remy lowered his eyes, his throat tightening as everything that had happened finally seemed to catch up with him.
“Merci, mes amis,” he whispered.
Rogue heard him, but she didn’t say anything. She only kept her hand wrapped around his while the room slowly began to settle. Conversations resumed in quiet voices as one by one, people started filing out of the room. A few offered him small nods or brief looks of reassurance as they passed, but no one stared.
Remy watched them go, his eyes following each person until they disappeared through the doors. His chest felt tight in a way that had nothing to do with pain.
Rogue squeezed his hand.
“You wanna go?”
For once, he didn’t. “Nah.”
Rogue smiled faintly.
“Then we stay.”
The music started again. People returned to their conversations. Storm found her way back into the crowd. Logan disappeared toward the bar as though he had not just delivered the most public defense of Remy that anyone had ever heard from him.
Remy remained beside Rogue. Neither of them said much. His hand stayed wrapped around hers.
After a while, Rogue looked toward the dance floor.
“You know how long I’ve been waiting for you to dance with me?”
Remy raised an eyebrow. “Thought you didn’t like Gambit’s dancing.”
“I never said that.”
“You said I had no rhythm.”
“I said you had too much rhythm.”
“That don’t even make sense.”
“It makes sense for you, Sugah.”
He smiled. “C’mon, chère. Dance with me.”
“You sure?” she asked, hesitant. “Don’t wana if you’re hurtin’.”
Remy nodded. “I ain’t running a marathon.” He stood carefully and Rogue watched him, waiting until he was steady.
Then he held out his hand. She took it.
They walked onto the dance floor together.
Remy kept his movements small. She moved with him, matching his pace instead of trying to pull him into something faster.
His hand settled carefully at her waist. Her other hand rested against his shoulder.
For a moment, they just swayed.
Remy looked around the room. Everybody was laughing. No one was staring, or even glancing their way. It was like the entire incident hadn’t happened, and for that he was grateful.
Jubilee caught his eye from across the room and gave him a huge grin.
Remy shook his head. “Petite’s gonna be insufferable about this.”
Rogue laughed softly. “She probably is.”
They moved together with the music. Remy’s hand rest carefully at her waist while hers remained in his. The room had begun to empty, leaving the music quieter around them. For the first time since Emma had entered the hallway, Remy could feel some of the tension leaving his body.
“Remy?”
“Hmm?”
There was something different in Rogue’s voice. Concern.
“Why didn’t you fight back?”
His eyes dropped to the floor. “Against Emma?”
“You could’ve stopped her, sugah. I know you could’ve.”
“I know.”
“That’s what worries me.”
Remy looked back at her. He could see that she wasn’t angry with him. She was trying to understand, and somehow that made the question harder.
“You were scared, weren’t you?”
He swallowed. “Chère…”
“I’m not asking to make you feel bad.” Her voice softened. “I just wanna understand.”
Remy was quiet for a moment. The answer seemed harder to give than he wanted it to be.
“Because I didn’t want to hurt nobody.”
Rogue’s expression softened, but her voice remained firm. “Sugah, you don’t have to stand there and let somebody hurt you.”
“If I fought back, everybody woulda seen it. I hurt Emma in front of all them people, they would’ve looked at me like I was dangerous. Like I was the bad guy again.”
“Remy.”
“I couldn’t let that happen.”
Rogue’s hand left his shoulder to gently cup his cheek. “You listen to me. No matter what happens, you fight back.”
His brow furrowed.
“I mean it. You don’t stand there and let somebody hurt you because you’re scared of what everybody else might think.”
“But, chère…”
“No. You don’t have to face anybody alone. If they turn on you, I got your back. If the whole team turns on you, I got your back. If the whole mutant race turns on you, I’m still gonna be standing right there.”
Remy’s eyes filled. He swallowed around the lump in his throat.
“You can’t keep letting yourself get hurt just because you’re afraid somebody might be afraid of you.”
Remy was quiet, his gaze dropping to their joined hands as they continued moving with the music. Then his brow furrowed, as though something had just occurred to him
“Chère…”
“What?”
“Emma told me you sent her.”
Rogue’s expression hardened immediately. “I did not.”
“She said you wanted her to look in my head.”
“No, sugah. I told her I’d talk to you first. That was it.”
Remy studied her face for a moment, searching for any sign that she was hiding something from him. There wasn’t one
“Knew it.”
Something in Rogue’s face broke. “You knew?
“Course I did.” His voice softened. “You’d never do dat to Gambit.” His thumb brushed over the back of her hand. “You’d never let nobody touch my mind without asking me first.”
“No.”
“That’s what I thought.”
She stepped closer, rising slightly onto her toes to press a soft kiss against his temple.
“Never, Sugah.”
The words settled somewhere deep in his chest. He nodded, his fingers tightening gently around hers.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. They just kept dancing, the music moving around them. Remy could still feel the ache in his chest, the exhaustion in his limbs, and the lingering fear sitting somewhere beneath his ribs, but Rogue’s hand was warm against his and her eyes were still on him.
“You know somethin’, chère?”
“What?”
“Think I like this.”
Rogue smiled.
“Dancing?”
He shook his head. “Knowing you’re always gonna have my back.”
Her smile softened. “You better get used to it.”
Remy’s mouth curved into a small smile “D’accord, chère.”