The Paths We Tread

Chapter 12 – Choice

A warm trickle of sunlight leaked across the hardwood floor, illuminating the lumps of blanketed bodies dozing both on the ground and on the bed.

Gambit blinked slowly, watching the motes swirling the spear of tangerine light. His eyes were slightly squinted, as his protective sunglasses were lying next to his pillow. The red irises roamed over the crack in the window curtains and then back over his companions. Genesis was huddled into a tight little ball like a cat, her shoulder blade-length white hair draping over her slack face. Archer was splayed out and tangled among his coverings, snoring in a contented sleep, a rare thing among the four of them. He stared the longest at Rogue, reassuring himself that she was alright by the light but steady rise and fall of her chest. When he realized that he was no longer staring to verify her breathing his eyes darted away. He'd found himself doing that more than usual lately, and he always responded with a mixture of embarrassment and a hint of pleasure. But at the moment, he was curious about the feeling, so he turned back and admired his dearest friend.

He had always known it deep down, but now that he had time to think about it, he truly appreciated how attractive Rogue was. Even a former HYDRA operative could recognize sexual appeal when they saw it. In fact, attractiveness was an additional quality in an operative, getting them into higher circles they might otherwise have been excluded from through less than conventional means. Gambit allowed his eyes to roam over her body, with special attention to the face. She really had a lovely face, and now with the peace of deep sleep erasing the signs of strain, she appeared even more beautiful.

Slowly and as silently as his significant skill could allow, he inched from beneath his blankets and over the side of Rogue's bed. He smiled at the cute little scrunch in her nose as she slept. This was actually their third morning in Fae's home. The previous days had been spent mostly in this room watching Genesis work with Rogue to contain the psyches, as she had begun to call them. Fae had only dropped by to bring meals and inquire on 'Darcy's' health. Gambit was still the most hostile toward her, glaring until she backed out of the room. Other than those times she allowed them their space. By now, Genesis had confirmed that the psyches were under control and all Rogue had to do now was sleep until she recovered her strength. They didn't know how long it would be until she woke again, but their worry had decreased since the disaster on the train.

Now that she was out of danger, Gambit felt tremendous relief. He hadn't realized how frightened he had been when he thought that Rogue might be taken from them. He tenderly brushed a strand of white hair away from her face, being careful of her skin.

"What are you doin' t' me mon chère," he thought absently, running his fingers through the silky locks. She moaned quietly before rolling over and snuggling against his side. His surprise quickly faded as he brought his arm around her and held her close. A faint sigh of contentment escaped her lips. Gambit smiled as he sat there, watching more light leak into the room from the partially covered window.

A sharp pang swept through him, a wisp of old fear. The sun was rising outside. It was reassuring for a roof to be over his head, but to be blocked off even in the most simplistic way from freedom still set him trembling inside. He had been too worried about Rogue these past days to really notice, but now he longed to see the sky again. He was still waking up in the mornings and frantically reminding himself what it looked like. Besides, in all the confusion of Rogue's breakdown and the train explosion, they had no idea where they were. His ingrained instinct told him that it was crucial he know his location; to be lost was to be, in a way, helpless.

Gambit's eyes darted around the room. The others still slept, but he knew that if any danger were to grow near, they would be up and ready in the blink of an eye. Anyways, he wouldn't be far.

Gently removing himself from Rogue's grasp and slipping on his sunglasses, he drifted from the room. His feet moved with the utmost stealth, staying close to the walls where the floor boards were less likely to creak. For the first time, Gambit really took note of where he was. The hallway down which he crept was narrow but short, opening into a foyer with openings on either side. The left led into some kind of parlor or living room, the right hand leading to a formal dining room.

Gambit winced at the sight, a memory flashing in front of his eyes. He had trained in simulations that projected holograms of places like this. In one when he was sixteen he remembered being forced to repeatedly stab and slash a target in the most ferocious manner, the gruesome scene taking place in a formal dining room much like this one. The pools of blood and the ravaged body were meant as scare tactics, a way to send a message. But the stained walls and punctured slab of meat, though all false, had left its own impression in his mind. He had been unconsciously scrubbing his hands clean of the blood weeks after that particular session.

With a hiss, Gambit shook his head. No use thinking about it now, he told himself, shoving away that blackness that was always gnawing at him, loath though he was to admit it. He took in the carpeted staircase that made up the left wall of his hallway, and then the large ornate door at the opposite end of the foyer.

The door was locked, but with a few improvised tools he found near him, with a quick jimmy the catch freed.

The breath of fresh air was like life flooding back into his veins. With a sigh Gambit crouched on the front steps, his dark clothes blending into the still remaining shadows cast by the house.

The tall old style buildings were lined side by side up and down the quiet street, thin trees planted at intervals rustling their leaves peacefully in the morning breeze. Somewhere nearby a dog barked happily at the new day. The smell of roses from a small enclosed garden across the street wafted through the air. With his keen ears Gambit could make out the rumbling of cars and the babble of crowds on a morning commute. To him, they were like alien creatures, something that he could never identify with and that would never understand him. Despite the noise and the sunlight playing between the shadows of skyscrapers off in the distance, he felt very alone.

His head shifted as he heard the faint thumping of feet inside. He knew everything about the sounds of his friends: their gaits, their breathing, and even the shifting of changing positions. The footsteps he heard didn't match Archer's long-legged straight stride, Genesis' light dancing steps, or Rogue's proud but graceful tread.

The door behind him creaked slightly, but he remained stone-still as Fae lowered herself onto the steps beside him. A tense silence hovered between them that Gambit had no intention of breaking. Fae however, liked to push boundaries when it came to her mysterious young charges.

"What a lovely morning. I usually never have much time to enjoy it; either I'm rushing off to work or sleeping in. But now that summer is here, maybe I'll do this more often. Being a school teacher does have its advantages."

Silence was her only reward for her remark. She cast a glance at her lanky, brooding companion who wouldn't look at her. Though she knew it was risky, Fae reached over and tapped the boy lightly on the shoulder. He didn't move away from her, but he instantly grew tense as coiled spring. She ignored this and continued speaking.

"What about you? You seem to enjoy the mornings."

At last he looked at her, even though his eyes were hidden by his shades as always. He grinned, but it wasn't a pleasant expression, surprisingly intense for such an otherwise solid poker face.

"Let's just say that I have a special appreciation for sunrises; hell, de outdoors in general at that." There were hints of bitterness and disdain creeping through his voice, barely veiled by false politeness.

Fae knew he was closing the discussion, warning her to back off. She was no coward, but she was also well aware that only more trouble could arise from pressuring him for information. So she leaned back and watched as the day grew brighter. Fae was partial to summers, especially midsummer like it was now. The memory of cold and snow and biting wind could be left behind, allowing new warmth to settle in the soul.

Again, she peeked at Russell. She wasn't stupid; she knew it wasn't his real name. The four teens had their own names for each other, but that was information she wasn't privy to. Besides, the boy didn't look like a Russell. His looks, which were considerable, seemed too exotic, too mysterious for such an average name. Andrew fit his moniker better with his handsome but non-exceptional appearance, as did Theo somehow. Darcy though, didn't fit any name that Fae could think of. The unconscious girl was an even greater mystery than her antsy friend here.

While watching him, Fae noticed the perplexed expression mixed with frustration leaking through the cracks in his otherwise blank face. If she could see his eyes, she didn't doubt they would be roving up and down the street and over the skyline.

"New York City, Manhattan." Gambit whipped his head around, one eyebrow raised as Fae spoke again. Her hazel eyes remained casual under his scrutiny.

"You're in New York City, Manhattan Island. Upper West Side. You've been staying in my home, Brownstone 23. If you wanted to know."

He didn't seem too pleased that she'd interpreted his thoughts with such ease, but it was better he learn now that he wasn't as deep of an enigma as he had thought. Despite his angst, the boy seemed to have an ego on him.

"T'anks for de info, but I could've figured it out on my own," he growled.

Fae crossed her arms at the rudeness in his voice. "It was only meant to be helpful. And I thought Southern boys were raised to respect a lady."

Gambit, while remaining relaxed on the outside, froze inside. She called him southern. It rang a bell far back in his mind. He had no hope of accessing it, but that smallest tidbit of information about himself was sending a thrill through him. Was he southern? What exactly did that mean, besides indicating a direction of navigation?

His thoughts were still buzzing wildly, but he remained smooth in words and appearance. "Depends on where exactly down south you're talkin' about."

Fae leaned back. "Well, you sound vaguely Cajun, or that would at least explain those random French words you throw in now and then."

He hadn't expected much response to her words, just more of the tugging in his mind that told him when something was familiar. So he couldn't hide the gasp of pain as what felt like a sledgehammer collided with his brain. Gambit's hand flew up, lights popping in his vision even behind the dark glasses.

"Oh my God, are you alright?" Fae yelped as he bent over on himself, clutching at his head.

He gritted his teeth. He had endured worse pain before; he just hadn't prepared for it this time. It had been a while now and his body wasn't as resistant to hurt like this anymore. But he still managed to growl, "Yeah, just a bad headache." He hissed again as another bolt of pain lashed behind his eyes. Whatever she had said had triggered something big, a major memory or facet of himself that he still couldn't reach. It was agony, but he felt excitement now too. This could mean it would be possible to retrace himself, find out what little he had been before. And then a nasty little thought niggled at him.

What could there be to find? You've been Hydra's slave for almost your whole life; what else is there to discover?

That hurt probably worse than the memory backlash. He wanted to scream in defiance, but it was true. Hydra had ingrained itself into his very bones. Who he was had been shaped and chiseled for him, for all of them, no matter their defiance. No matter how far they ran, their past was always right behind.

He growled again as more pain stabbed behind his retinas. A hand suddenly touched his shoulder, gripping it. Snarling, Gambit ripped away, almost jumping up.

"I said I'm fine!" he snapped furiously at their concerned host. The venom in his voice startled her for a moment, before stubbornness crept over her face.

"Obviously you are not fine! I can tell when someone's in pain, and when they're too stubborn to accept help. Why won't you let me?"

The young man positively snarled at her; it hardly sounded human. Even with his eyes covered she could feel the heat of his raging gaze burning into her forehead. He leaned in close. Fae really felt for the first time the threat emanating from him. She may have wanted to help, but there was no denying her reluctant charge was dangerous. Still, she didn't back down as his nose almost touched hers and he hissed his words out.

"Because I don't need your help; none of us do. The only ones who've ever been able to help us have been ourselves. Anyone else…well, it wasn't out o' de goodness of their hearts they got involved wit' us." He leaned back slightly, but he was so tense he looked ready to run – or fight – for his life.

Fae felt her heart twist painfully. Beneath the fury, he was just a lost kid, with no one but himself and his friends to turn to. With the way he talked, she didn't doubt that without the support of the others he would not be alive today. She doubted any of them would be.

She wasn't a stranger to suffering herself. Fae knew what it was like to feel hopeless: the death of her brother in a car accident, the abuse of drugs for five years, and then having to watch her daughter Kaitlin suffer the same thing later on. Fae had known nothing more terrifying in her life like watching over her daughter in the hospital after her attempted suicide. But despite all that, Russell, Darcy, Theo, and Andrew seemed to have seen so much more; tortures she could never imagine.

She didn't have to let this be her problem. Like so many others would have, she could just provide them with food, some shelter, and see them on their way. But she just couldn't. A sudden protectiveness had begun to bloom inside of her, so suddenly it was frightening. She could no longer turn away this troubled young family formed out of desperation than she could turn away her own children.

Gambit was shocked when he saw the sparkle of tears in the older woman's eyes, but he was even more so when she reached out, trying to take his hand. He pulled away, but Fae still gazed at him intensely.

"Yes you do Russell. You do need help. You don't have to rely on yourselves, not if you let me help you."

He shook his head. "We got no reason to trust you. A place to sleep, food, dat don't mean nothin'."

"Then give me a chance to earn your trust," she pleaded as she stood.

The young man laughed bitterly. "For what? Even if we did give you dat chance, what could you do for us? You could never imagine in your darkest nightmares what we've been through. And you'd try to understand, try to fix us like de broken tools we are." He clawed at this hair; how he wished it was longer, able to hide the desperation creeping past his façade of cold bravado. He hadn't realized he was backing away, down the stairs, until he almost slipped.

Fingers closed around his hand. Panic swept through him. His training told him to rip away from the grasp, and strike back with everything he had. Even now he could feel the charge of his powers raging in his fingers. If he let it go it would spread through the woman's body until she either disintegrated or blew apart like a firecracker. He almost allowed it free reign, but then the fingers squeezed on his hand, gently. It was like nothing he had ever felt before. It was so…Gambit wanted to growl, finding no word in his mind to describe what it felt like. It felt like…when Kayla would sooth his mind after a traumatizing experience with Sinister, or when Rogue gave him a small smile. They were so rare that it was a gift one could truly label priceless. It was a feeling of… a promise. A promise to be there.

Fae smiled sadly at him. "You're right. I doubt I ever could understand whatever you've been through. But I'm not asking for your past, your secrets, whatever haunts you. What I'm asking is for you to allow me to help you look past it. What's past is for you alone to come to terms with, if that's what you want. Just give me the chance to help give you a better future in return. I don't need to understand to do that."

Gambit stared at her wide-eyed. What was she offering? It seemed like so much, but nothing came without a price. Yet, there was something in her voice. It was laid bare almost, as if she had nothing to hide. And there was nothing. He didn't feel or hear any trace of a lie in her voice, in her eyes. But more than that, he felt different. He felt he had worth, like he was more than just an instrument of advantage to her. Like he was actually wanted.

He tried to turn away; he felt the traitorous tightening in his throat and that tingling behind his eyes. The sunglasses were hiding them for now, but he could not allow tears to fall.

He shook his head, mumbling. "You can't promise somet'ing like that; you don't know who we are, or what we've done."

"And that's the point," she said quietly. "I don't need to know. I just need you to have some faith in me. I can help you, but only you can decide if you'll allow it."

That seemed to open a floodgate of some kind. Suddenly, the sun really seemed to shine, flushing out a coldness inside he could never escape. She was giving him a choice. In Hydra, a choice was not something they were entitled to. And even beyond the confining walls and out in the real world, there had been no choice; the only option was to flee. But now there was a new doorway, one that wasn't so dark. There was light beyond that threshold, if he was brave enough to step through. Gambit's eyes sought the skyline as the sun broke above the towering structures. It felt like it was reaching him for the first time.

Fae felt it. Suddenly, his shoulders dropped and tension flooded away from him. She held on tighter as she felt his hand trembling faintly. He wasn't looking at her, but rather eastward. She could only imagine what he might be thinking, but she knew his answer.

Gently, and slightly playfully, she shook his hand a little and drew his attention back to her. She said nothing about the glittering tracks on his cheeks. "Come on kid, sun's coming up and your friends will be up and about soon. How about we start on some breakfast?" She released his hand and stepped back a little. A space where he could lay down his answer.

Tentatively, he stepped forward to join her. She smiled widely, before turning around to open the door again and let them inside.

"Merci."

It was quiet almost a whisper, but it was so thick with unspoken thoughts, memories, and feelings that she doubted it could have been any louder than it was. But she simply nodded. It was all he need say.

"You're welcome."

~.~.~

Hello again. I must say, these chapters are giving me a lot of trouble, trying to find that balance between angst and fluff while still progressing the plot some. I believe though that after this, things will be a bit faster. Hopefully :P

Also, a lot of people have been wondering about the many side plots I have going like the X-men, X-23, and how it ties together. Don't worry; I've got this planned out and things will happen as they will. The answer I can give you now is that things won't be tying together for a while, but they will eventually. And again, thank you for all reviews, story alerts, and favorites. It keeps me inspired and writing, so a shout out to everyone who is following the story: LOVE Y'ALL!

WG23