I do not own the X-Men

Thought I do dream sometimes about owning Gambit

But then, who doesn't?

The Light Version

Dr. McCoy removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose in an effort to will off a headache. His eyes were bloodshot. Over the last five days, he had not gotten nearly as much sleep as he had needed, and it was beginning to show.

"You will find a solution Hank," Charles tried to comfort him. "It is only a matter of time."

The Beast managed a wane smile. He appreciated the effort, even if he didn't entirely believe the other. "Thank you for your faith professor," he said. "However," Hank admitted with a sidelong glance at his patient. "Currently I am at a loss to determine even what is wrong with our Arcadian friend."

No one had seen it coming. Remy had seemed fine. A little tired maybe, but then they all had been after the last couple weeks. Then one day, the Cajun had just pitched over. Right between the living room and kitchen. He had been unconscious ever since.

"Then perhaps," a cool, familiar voice spoke from the doorway of the medical lab. "I can be of some assistance." The group tensed, immediately fanning out between Remy and their unexpected visitor.

"What do you want Sinister?" Cyclops demanded, his visor glowing red. It was an effort not to blast the geneticist on the spot. If not for the delicate instruments surrounding them, he probably would have.

"As I said," Essex repeated. "I have come to offer my assistance in the matter of Gambit's extended repose." Anything else was, quite frankly, not the X-men's concern.

Scott gritted his teeth. Only Sinister could refer to something that amounted to a coma as though Remy had just nodded off while sunbathing. "And why should we trust you?" he asked coldly.

The geneticist did not get a chance to reply. "I believe Scott," Dr. McCoy interrupted. "That the question is, can we afford not to." In spite of the general unpleasantness surrounding Mr. Sinister, he was undoubtedly the best in his field.

Cyclops turned slightly to observe the Beast's unusually serious countenance. It was really that bad? He turned to look at the others, settling on the professor. Xavier nodded slightly. Scott turned his attention back to Essex. "Fine," he hissed. "But we are staying." There was no way he would let the mad scientist work on Gambit unobserved.

The red-eyed man nodded, unperturbed by the team leader's proclamation. As long as they stayed out of his way, the X-men could watch all they wanted. His only concern now was waking the younger man. Sinister walked calmly through the assembled group, uncaring of how vastly outnumbered he was.

For the next few hours, the two doctor's went over the information Hank had already collected. The flow of scientific jargon made it impossible for anyone else, save perhaps Xavier to follow the conversation between the pair.

A faint frown passed over Sinister's features as he stared down at the readout. This did not make sense. "Physically," he commented to the room at large. "There does not appear to be anything wrong with him." Perhaps the equipment at his own lab would give more in depth results. Upon voicing the thought, the scientist was immediately shot down.

Essex sighed. "I thought not." Of course, there was one other possibility. That Remy's problem wasn't physical. "Has there been anything unusual that has occurred at the institute recently?" he questioned. "Even the most minute occurrence may be of great significance."

There was a moment of silence. "Angela," Jean said at last. "The Phoenix's eyes filling with tears.

The geneticist raised one eyebrow in inquiry. "Elaborate."

"Angela was one of our students," Cyclops answered. A tick appeared in his cheek as the mutant's jaw clenched. "She was cornered by a FoH mob two weeks ago. They beat her to death." The teenage girl's mutation had not been a powerful one. She hadn't stood a chance. The tragedy of her death was compounded by the fact the killers had gotten off scott free.

"But," Rouge objected looking a bit uncertain. "What does this have to do with Remy?" He had been upset, they all had. But still. "It wasn't like she and the swamp rat were close," she voiced.

Sinister however had gone perfectly still, akin to a snake that was about to strike. A death at the institute, more than that a murdered child. No doubt such an incident would create tremendous amounts of grief and rage, emotions that would permeate the whole of the school, and all the people in it. His crimson eyes focused on Gambit's still face, a theory formulating in his mind.

There was only one way to be certain. "Have you a power inhibitor somewhere in the residence?" he inquired.

Hank's eyes went wide. "You believe Gambit's powers are doing this to him?"

"Indirectly," Essex answered. "I do."

Without another word the Beast removed an inhibitor collar from a nearby drawer, slipping it around the Cajun's neck. He kept it on hand should an injured patient become out of control. The moment it activated, the biokinetic field around the unconscious man flicked off, leaving Remy's mind vulnerable to telepathic intrusion.

Essex had barely entered that astral plane when Professor Xavier appeared before him, blocking his way. "What are you doing?" the other telepath demanded. Charles was more than ready to kick the other out, should his intentions prove malevolent.

"Merely testing my hypothesis," Sinister replied impassively. "You are welcome to accompany me, should you wish."

Cautiously Xavier nodded, and the pair entered Remy's mind. Meanwhile, Jean was forced to restrain her husband when he attempted to blast Essex. It took them quite a while to calm the man down.

Charles looked around at Remy's psych in curiosity. It was not what he had expected. It was full of twists and turns, not at all the way a non-telepaths mind was usually laid out. In all honestly, he felt hopelessly lost. However, Sinister seemed to know where he was going, and so Xavier followed.

The professor's eyes widened as they turned a corner to come face to face with Remy Lebeau's astral form. The Cajun was sitting on the ground, wreathed in shadows, both hands clamped over his ears. His red on black eyes, usually so full of live, seemed oddly empty.

This shouldn't be possible, Charles thought to himself. Not unless, not unless Gambit possessed some form of psi abilities he realized. A sick feeling passed through him. How could he not have noticed. Almost four years the younger man had been with the X-men, and he hadn't noticed. What was almost worse, Essex had.

Meanwhile, Sinister had knelt next to the Cajun. "Remington?" he said. "Remington can you hear me?"

Remy flinched, his eyes still not quite focusing. "Hurts," he croaked. "'S too much." Too much pain, too much anger, it was all just too much. He had pulled his shields as tight as he could, and still it hadn't been enough.

"You have to come back now," Essex ordered. "You can't stay here." Mentally he cursed the younger man's stubbornness. How could Remy have allowed himself to get in such a state? He should have left the institute the moment he realized he was in trouble.

"The pain will stop?" the Cajun murmured the question, still out of it.

"Yes," the scientist promised as he helped Remy to his feet. "The pain will stop." With the inhibitor collar on, the other's powers would be unable to reach past his own body.

On the trip back, Xavier was fairly silent, still stunned by how he had failed one of his X-men. At last he looked up at Sinister. "Gambit is a telepath?" he asked.

A pair of crimson eyes looked coolly back. "If he was, this situation would not have been an issue. Remy is an empath."

Charles nodded as they left the astral plane, regaining control over their physical bodies. A brief moment later Gambit stirred, his red on black eyes fluttering open to land on Sinister. "Father," he murmured, mind still fuzzy from the ordeal.

The X-men stared in shocked disbelief as Essex gently smoothed a bit of stray hair back behind the Cajun's right ear, a smile of satisfaction on his face. It was pleasing to know the boy acknowledged him on some level. Though he was certain Remington would be furious with himself once he regained his senses. But for now, "yes my son." He answered softly. "Now go back to sleep. Things will be better in the morning."

Remy's eyes slid shut, and a moment later he was out. This time, resting comfortably. Sinister's expression dared someone to say something as he opened a portal back to his lab. He only paused to throw one last look at Professor Xavier. "I trust you will ensure this does not happen again," his voice held an unspoken warning. Charles nodded once, and with that, the geneticist was gone.

Hope you liked it

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