A/N: Okay, you guys got me. There's been a lot of confusion as to 'Marcel' and Remy. I didn't notice their ages collided until about two seconds ago. Usually when this happens though, I come up with my usual logical explanation, this will prolly be the biggest A/N in history but... Here goes. Okay, mutant genes tend to manifest quite rapidly, so if you think about it you have two 'Mutant Gene Positive' people, having a kid, which would 99.9 of the time be a mutant. Now, since these genes grow rapidly, it would affect them 'anatomically' as well. So their growth rate would progress 'faster' then the normal human/mutant so to speak because of such strong bloodlines. So in a sense, as far as genes go there's no problem with the age collision, because of the 'rapid growth' on account of mutation... So there you have it. I should've mentioned it earlier... Sorry for the confusion guys,

-LC-

Disclaimer: The Charrie is my one Friend's. I call em' Marcel. So I don't own him...

Five

Remy LeBeau's ex-wife Belladonna, sipped her tea, watching her son, framed in the doorway of their Victorian style home. Marcel was seventeen, not too far from his father either, whom was eighteen now, himself... She was perplexed by what her son had just asked her... He suddenly asked again, far more insistent then before.

"Mom, I wan' t' go see papa, I don' get why I can' go." He crossed his arms. He was an absolute spitting image of his father framed in that doorway. It was hard for her to look at him.

"Son, I don't know if I'm ready for this..." She said warily surveying him over the brim of her teacup.

"It's bin seventeen damn years! I should be able t' go see em' if I wan' t'!"

"Don't you take that tone with me young man."

Marcel glared at her, his kindling eyes exactly like his father's.

"Well I'm goin' wheth'uh yo' like it o' not." He said soundly.

"God you disgust me you're so much like your father."

He growled angrily... His hands wrenching, aching to grab her... But he knew better. He knew better.

He began to glow with anger, kinetic energy surrounding him, pulsating in a reddish pink. He turned on his heel, but Belladonna walked over, and put a hand on his shoulder, the protruding energy knocking her back into one of her beloved oak chairs.

"Marcel!" She cried.

"I didn't mean t' do it mama." He looked at her lying on the floor, but he was so angry... He was afraid of strangling her.

The lights began to flicker and surge.

"Get out!" She cried. "You...you!"

He didn't have to be told twice, he walked out the door, where his anger exploded into the night... And he saw to his surprise, every single house-light extinguish, even the streetlights, he stood alone, lustrously in the darkness... His mother came out stalwart, and angry, her hair flown by the torrent wind Marcel was producing.

"You can go, but he's with another woman now. Slut I'm willing to bet."

"Oh yeah?" He called over the wind. "What does dat make yo' den?"

"Marcel LeBeau!"

He waved her away with his hand, and began down the street. He didn't have any means of travel, except hitchhiking. He could look after himself he figured it would be the best way.

He traveled a few miles, watching the scenery's shadows change, his energy dancing about him, throwing shadows this way and that.

When the energy began to diminish, he held some in his hand to light his way, he stopped along the road, and stuck out his thumb, the first truck that saw him stopped.

He was a deranged old man. He talked mostly of his wife, and kids he never had... Every once in a while, Marcel would nod in agreement, or tsk, with unfairness. Finally they reached the town of Westchester. He hoped he could find the place. The man dropped him off, at what to the old man, seemed like an old vacant lot.

Marcel grinned as he read the words: Charles Xavier's school for Gifted Youngsters on the silver embossed sign.

He waved to the driver, and stopped at the gate, there was a little microphone thing with a small camera that moved when he did.

"Please state your business." The automated voice answered.

"I'm here to see Remy LeBeau."

Suddenly, instead of from the speaker, the voice seemed as though it was in his own mind...

"Most certainly Marcel, please come in." The gates opened with a beep, and he proceeded into the mansion.

XxX

"Mr. LeBeau, someone's here for you." We were in the Professor's office, talking about the baby, mostly. He was ecstatic.

"Someone? Fo' me?" He asked again.

The professor nodded.

"A'ight, 'petite yo' stay 'ere I'll be back fo' yo'."

I nodded.

Remy descended the staircase, seeing through the fogged, and effervescent glass, the figure of a young man, about his height.

He opened the door, and his jaw dropped.

"Marcel?" He asked in disbelief.

"Yeah papa. It's me."

Remy smiled as his son embraced him.

"How'd yo' get here? What about yo' mutha what'd she have t' say 'bout yo' seein' me?"

"We had a figh' she tol' me, yo'd prolly be wit' a slut..." He said vigilantly.

"Typical." He said bluntly.

"Rem," I was coming down the stairs, looking from him to Marcel.

"Marie, I mean Rogue, dis' is Marcel." He said proudly.

"Speak uh' the devil."

"I'd like yo' t' meet my fiancée Rogue."

"Hey," He said observing me, a smile playing on his lips. He kissed my hand courteously.

"Bonjour mon cher'."

"Look at that Cajun, he's a charmer jus' like you."

"Like dey say, like fath'a, like son."

"Yuh got that right."

"So, Marcel, Yo' mutha' gon' be callin' askin' fo' yo'?"

He shrugged.

"Don' know, I 'spose so."

He sighed. "I had t' come n' see yo'. I needed t' ask y' sumthin'..."

"Yeah,"

"Yo've got TK don' yo'?"

"Yup, it's all in de cards... An' me o' course." He chuckled.

"I was wonderin' cuz' mama nevuh tol' me."

"Dat woman." He said rolling his eyes.

"She can' be all that bad sugah... Can she?"

They both nodded vigorously.

The rest of the day was, somewhat productive, questions as to why Remy and I weren't in class, questions about Marcel...

"Is he taken?" Kitty whispered excitedly.

"Ah don't know."

She fixed her hair, and smiled at him...

I rolled my eyes.

By that night, both Remy and I were wiped out. We lied in bed that night, not talking much. He just held me. I snuggled against him and slept wonderfully. I dreamt of strange things... Of Belladonna coming and asking custody of our child. I woke up flailing. I obviously hit Remy a couple of times. He woke me in whispers.

"Cheri, yo' okay?" He asked me.

"Yeah, ah jus' was havin' this terrible dream."

"It's okay." He kissed my cheek.

"Thanks." I whispered back... I suddenly felt something move a little above my navel.

"Remy!" I cried. "The baby... It's moving..." It had at least been a couple months...

"Huh, what?" He jumped out of bed.

"You aren't having it are yo'?" He asked in shock.

"Goodness no! Look." He crawled back in bed, and put his hand on my stomach...

"See! Did you feel that!" I cried, tears of happiness rolling down my cheeks.

"Dere it is again!" He said feeling it move under his palm.

He looked at me... "Wow..." He breathed. He smiled, and softly kissed my stomach.

I giggled... The stubble on his chin tickled.

"Sorry," He smiled.

"It's okay sugah." I smiled, and kissed him...

He broke the kiss with a smile. "How 'bout we go see Jean tomorrow, an' see how it's doin'?"

"Yeah..." I replied... "That sounds like a great idea..."

I snuggled into his chest, my arms around him... He but his arms around me in return... And we fell asleep... together once again.

(To Be Continued)