The Dreamer in the Nightmare

Xavier may have been a telepath and relied much on his telepathy to tell him things about people, his students in particular, but he didn’t rely on it so much that he wouldn’t recognize the body language of another, and he couldn’t have missed Remy’s body language. His smile vanished. “Remy, what’s wrong? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

No, Prof—worse! he thought to himself. “Prof¼ what de hell are you doin’ in my bed?” Xavier looked shocked to hear him talk that way and Remy didn’t know what had shocked him, but he hoped it was his language.

“Remy, I¼ I don’t understand. What’s troubling you?”

“Are you deaf and blind?! You’re in my bed¼ and I sure hope to God you got on more clothes dan I tink you do!” Xavier frowned deep and perplexed. It was just then that Remy realized how much he should be talking and what exactly he was wearing. It was less than Xavier.

A rage came over Remy and he sped from the room and down the hall to the bathroom before Xavier could say anything more. Not that Remy noticed, but Charles was reaching out his hand to touch him just before he left. He sighed deeply when he couldn’t see Remy any more.

The mansion wasn’t so far away, but it was far enough that Remy got a good walk out of it. It drained him of a touch of his anger as well, but when he started thinking about what had happened when he woke up, the rage filled him anew. He stormed into the house slamming doors and glaring at every soul inside that he saw. In a thick accent he slurred low, “Which one of you did dat?” His voice got louder. “Ehn? Who’s de prankster?”

“Prank, Remy?” Scott asked.

“Prank, prick! Was it you, Bobby?” Remy’s eyes threw daggers at Iceman.

“What?” Bobby Drake asked in an innocent tone. “Remy, what are you talking about?”

“All’s I know is somebody done sometin’ real nasty an’ I aim to find out who done it!”

“What was it Remy?” Scott asked again in his leader-fix-all voice. Scott was ever the voice of reason in the mansion, no matter how badly people didn’t want reason.

“Somebody put de Prof. in my bed! Wit’ me still in it!” The looks he got from that one ranged from perplexed to doubting. “What? You don’t believe me? Go see for yourself!”

“No need, Remy,” he heard Charles from behind. He whirled to see the Professor there in his hover-chair, in his usual attire. His attention turned to the rest of the group in the mansion. All those present were Scott, Bobby, Jean, Rogue, Hank, and Betsy. “I have been meaning to tell all of you, but¼ never found the words, or the courage to express this to you. Remy has urged me to, yet I still find myself¼doubting. I can see that it has strained Remy. I can only hope that what I am about to say will not change our relationships, though I am relatively certain that it will. For the past several weeks, almost a month now, Remy and I have been in a relationship.” Remy was already staring at the Professor and now his eyes grew wide. Then it entered his mind how absurd it all was and burst into laughter. No one was laughing with him. When he realized this, he stopped rather suddenly and looked around at everyone.

“Don’t tell me y’all believe any o’ dis? Dat’s crazy! Me an’ de Prof?” He made a single breathed chuckle and turned to the Professor who was looking at him very hurt. Remy’s brow knitted. “Prof? You’re not serious!”

“Most profoundly serious and you are once again making far too light of a situation that must be addressed.”

“See how absurd it is—he doesn’t even like me!”

Charles’ face was grave and regretful. “I know that I have not shown it in the past, especially when you behave childishly, but Remy, my feelings for you go deeper than that¼deeper than I have yet discovered.”

“Dis is y’all’s way of getting’ back at me, isn’t it? Tryin’ to trick me into thinkin’ dat some weird merde is goin’ down. Well, it ain’t gonna work; I don’t care how many of you are in on it!” Remy stormed from the room to go find Ororo. He happened to go outside, kind of by accident, then realizing that he couldn’t go back in there, decided that he would climb up the side of the house to get to one of her windows in the attic.

Inside the mansion, Charles Xavier sat in his chair looking broken. He cared very deeply about Remy and had obviously hurt him, but he had no idea why he was acting thus or how to help him out of his pain.

“Sir¼ why didn’t you tell us about this side of you?”

“Particularly because I had not found it myself, Scott. This has been a very recent development. One I’m still not sure how to take, even more so now that Remy is acting this way¼ as if nothing ever happened between us.”

“I don’t know what to say, Professor¼ I¼.”

“Do not trouble yourself with words, Scott. I know they are often cumbersome.”

“I just¼ sir, I want to make clear that this doesn’t change my view of you, though I can’t speak for the rest of the X-Men¼.”

“Thank you, Scott. I do appreciate the gesture. I think the X-Man I’m worried about the most at the moment is¼ Remy.”

Remy tapped on the glass window pain of Storm’s vast room in the attic. Remy clung to the side of the building by means Ororo could not see, nor fathom when she opened the window to let him in. “Hello, Remy. What a surprise!” she said cheerfully. He hopped in gracefully, but with a very serious demeanor. He stopped after walking a few paces from the window to look at Ororo. Neither was smiling as he looked at her.

His first instinct was to go over to her and kiss her so hard she’d pass out—to prove to her—to prove to himself that he wasn’t what the Professor had just accused him of being. But alas, Storm was his friend and he wouldn’t want to complicate their relationship, nor would he wish to violate her like that. Ororo had never expressed interest in Remy and Gambit always said that he never went where he wasn’t invited. He maintained his distance, but with the urge still tugging at him. “Ororo¼could you¼ could you see me as¼ as¼ gay?” he asked, as bluntly as he could muster, which wasn’t much at that. Ororo was shocked that he would ask her such a question and smiled at him brightly, and understandingly. A smile that should have appeared on the Professor’s face, but instead their rolls was reversed.

“Remy, what kind of question is this? Are you feeling insecure, my friend?” she asked the second question serious all of a sudden.

“Insecure? Why should I be insecure? Stormy, I just woke up half hour ago to Professor Charles Xavier in my bed with me. Naked! I ain’t got no reason to be insecure! Mon dieu!”

“W-what happened?” Storm asked stumbling over her words she was so shocked.

“Oh, Ororo, I don’t know what’s goin’ on. Somebody’s tryin’ to get under my skin and I need to find out who. But who would want to do somethin’ dat horrible to me, and who’d be able to get de Prof to cooperate wit’ dem? It musta’ been just as humiliatin’ for him as it was for me.”

“The Professor admits to being attracted to you, Remy, and sneaking in on you last night?”

“No. He admits to having a relationship wit’ me for de past month! Dat relationship didn’t include me apparently ‘cause I don’ remember a ting, if I had de inclination, nor would I have done anyting like dat if I had de memory!” Gambit was so confused he barely followed his own words. All he felt was that he wouldn’t have done something like that with Xavier no matter the circumstances. “Nothin’s been goin’ on between us, and yet he insists dat dere was. Tell me what’s goin’ on Ororo. Please. Is Xavier insane? I know he just got over a little bout of it, but is it lingering and mutating?”

“I do not see a reason why the Professor would lie, Remy. Perhaps he is delusional. Perhaps you are. It is difficult to say which is which, but I would encourage you to explore what is being said and also to have a psi-scan by Jean. She may be able to shed more light on what is going on with the both of you because obviously someone is in error.”

“Tanks, Stormy, but I’d just as soon not have a telepath go scrapin’ ‘round my head.”

“Then you will never know.” Remy thought about those simple words very carefully before going down stairs again, this time to approach Jean Grey about a psi-scan.

For a moment, he had thought about rebutting Storm’s argument with how Xavier could have the psi-scan and he’d be more used to it and wouldn’t mind it so much, but the argument to that appeared before he could get it off the ground. Xavier was not only a more experienced and more powerful telepath than Jean, he was the most powerful anywhere. He could easily block or fake any results of a psi-scan that he wanted without even having his student know, and if someone had gotten him to go to the depths of sleeping in Remy’s bed with him, unclothed like he was (Lord, how humiliating!) whoever it was would have convinced him that anything was necessary, which would include lying in a psi-scan. Remy sought out Jean Grey.

Unfortunately, Jean had been one of the people in the room at the time Remy exploded at Xavier and brushed everything off. He was hoping she didn’t take that seriously, but she alone would know how the Professor was feeling and catch him in the lie. He hoped.

Being inconspicuous was something that Remy had studied and learned well. He could blend into a wall, to say nothing of a crowd. And he was practically unreadable to telepaths. That’s the only reason Jean was startled when he called her name from behind her as she turned a corner. Remy had stuck himself casually up against a wall and made himself invisible by the thought of it. A hawk wouldn’t have noticed him.

Jean jumped a few paces but recovered herself quickly. “Remy, what are you doing?”

“Asking a favor, Jeannie. I don’t like de idea any more dan I’m sure you do, but I tink we both know dat somebody needs to give me a psi-scan and de Professor ain’t gonna be de one to do it.”

Jean took a deep breath. “I know. First, tell me what you think is going on. Seriously.”

“Either somebody got de Prof to do an acting job to put Patrick Stewart to shame, or Xavier’s loosing it. I’m startin’ to tink that de latter is more probable. Somebody’d have to have an awfully juicy carrot to hold out to get dat rabbit to budge.”

Jean nodded. The Professor always had high morals especially when it came to the private lives of the X-Men and would never dream of embarrassing any of them like that. She stepped closer to Remy in the hallway to stand on the same side about arm’s length away from him. They both made ready to feel discomfort.

Remy tried to open himself up¼ at least all the relevant parts, as much as he could so that the process wouldn’t hurt as much but no matter how much he opened himself up, it always hurt.

It felt like a tingling presence prickling at his brain. In his mind’s eye he saw Jean Grey-Summers and where she went in his thoughts. He flashed for her the memories of the past month and none of it included much of the Professor. He felt Jean stay in his head for a few more moments and checking in the places where there might be blocked memories, then receded from his mind.

When Remy met Jean’s eyes, he pleaded silently for her to tell him good news. She looked at him without expression it seemed for a moment, then she spoke. “I don’t see what the Professor claims in your mind, Remy.” Remy let out a sigh of relief that until that moment he had been holding in dread.

“Den dat means at least one of my theories is true.”

“Not necessarily¼.”

“What do you mean by, ‘not necessarily?’” he asked, more worried than before.

“From what I saw¼. Remy, two weeks ago, you and I had a lengthy conversation. It was about the Professor and how he had impacted my life, and at that time I could feel something in you, telepathy aside. You talked about him as if for the first time in forever you were actually getting along.”

“I don’t remember dat,” he said casually in defense.

“That’s just my point. I can find no trace of that memory in your mind and I even checked your subconscious recording system, so even if you hadn’t been thinking about it, the memory would still be there. If it had been suppressed, if it had happened to you at all, it would have been there.”

“So¼what are you sayin’?”

“I’m not sure¼.” She took a deep breath and blew it out. “Either way, we still should tell the Professor what we’ve found.” The mention of seeing the Professor again gave a shudder through Remy. He didn’t want to have to see him, have to remember waking up next to him, imagining the things he must be thinking about him!

“Y-you can go tell him, can’t you, Jean?”

“Won’t you come with me?”

“I’d rather not¼I think I need to spend some time in female company, right now.” Jean’s smile was weak, but not insincere. She nodded and walked toward the living room where she knew the Professor could still be found.

Remy went straight for Rogue’s room. When he got there, she wasn’t in her room. Figures. The one time he needed to talk to her, to see her, to revel in her presence was the one time she was off some place else. He needed her badly. With a long sigh, he flopped against the wall and slid down it to a sitting position to wait for her. This wasn’t going to be pleasant, he knew that right now.

Before he was able to get into his thoughts, Marrow opened the door to her room and looking for the disturbing sound found him. She had not been down stairs and he hoped that no one had been up here to tell her what had just gone on. He stared at her. Since before her change, he had liked the spirit in the kid, and there was more to how he felt about her, but he would never tell her. Ever.

After her change, she began to get attached to him, viewing him like her savior, when he had actually made her life a living hell. Now she was as beautiful as she was spirited and in the desperation he felt for companionship and to be out of public view, he stood up and stepped over to her. “Sarah,” he asked looking deep into her eyes. This was his form of telepathy, though it couldn’t be called that. It was an irresistible charm and he got under girls’ skins that way. He needed to be under Sarah’s now. “I didn’t disturb you, did I?”

“N-no. I mean, I heard you, but—“ He could feel the pull on the other side of the gaze. That’s the way it felt when they began to want him back; pulling at him, drawing him in. He stepped into the room with her and he closed the door with his foot, although he hadn’t drawn his attention away from her while doing it. He was far too absorbed in needing a female’s touch to pay a thing like a door the attention it would take to spit on.

“Were you busy?”

“Well, no, I wasn’t. I was just—“ Sarah cut herself off knowing that her voice sounded awkward in the still air. She didn’t want to hear her own voice. She wanted to hear his.

When she didn’t say anything else, he assumed that it was all right to speak. “Mind if I take some of your time?”

Sarah didn’t know how to take that one. It was like her fondest dream coming true, but now that she was in the middle of it, she didn’t know what to do with it. She stumbled over her words and continued to look at Remy. Her confusion was apparent, so he decided to not give her enough time to make her feel like worse of a fool. With an intensity that burned like fire inside him and between them he leaned to her and pressed his lips to hers.

Remy gathered that Sarah had never been kissed before by the way she reacted and by the way she kissed. For a moment, her lips did nothing but stay shockedly closed and stiff, but then after a moment they started to soften molding to his. She picked up on it quick, but it was obvious she hadn’t had much practice. That wasn’t a problem for Remy.

In that one kiss he convinced himself that he couldn’t possibly do this with a member of the same gender. He couldn’t feel like this with a man. It just wasn’t possible. Those thoughts pressed him harder against her, enveloping her in his arms. She felt so slight and fragile compared to him. It was quite the revelation when he realized that he needed to feel that. When the kiss ended he still didn’t let go of her. He couldn’t believe how much more he wanted, but he couldn’t let himself no matter how insecure he was feeling. Sarah was still just a child. He couldn’t.

*********************************

Remy’s eyes opened gradually and relaxed. His room was familiar and inviting, but whenever he looked out to the mansion that illusion faded like a ghost from his imagination. He’d love to think that the X-Men welcomed him back into the mansion, but it was not so. Still, being outcast did have its advantages. No one knew of his comings and goings and he could play his music a whole lot louder. Along with playing other things loud, but the only time Charles had ever gotten loud enough to worry about they were both laughing their heads off.

Sighing, he noted the absence of his lover. The night before Charles and he had gotten into an argument about telling the rest of the X-Men about their relationship and Charles repeatedly refused. He had accused Charles of being a hypocrite for lying to the X-Men while always admonishing him to be honest with his teammates. Accusations flew back and forth and they ended up staying the night in separate buildings. He missed the sweet smell of him and his aftershave¼ as interesting as it had been to get used to.

He lifted himself from his bed looking around for Charles. What was he thinking? They had a fight last night; he’d never have come in. They were both upset at each other, but Remy had calmed down. If Charles wasn’t ready, then he wasn’t ready and that was that. He would tell those he thought could handle it when he thought they were all ready. Remy just had to be patient.

Deciding to not spend the day in his thoughts, he crawled out of bed and went about his daily routine. The first thing he needed to do when he got up to the mansion was apologize to Charles and tell him that whenever he was ready was fine. There would be no more pressure from Remy. He also needed to find an excuse to talk to him alone for a moment so the rest of the X-Men wouldn’t get suspicious.

The Professor must be so nervous right now—having his students’ mental image of him change in the course of a few words had to be scary. Remy needed to be supportive of his decisions and secretive in the mean time. Remy also needed his affection and he was so liberal with it, it was touching.

Charles needed him too… perhaps even needed Remy more than Remy needed him. Who knew? He wasn’t about to let their hesitance about coming out get in the way of making this relationship work and he planned to apologize to Charles.

The mansion wasn’t far away and he stepped into it to find everyone but the Professor there up and getting breakfast. Odd, Remy thought. Maybe he was more distraught over their fight last night than he let on. This wasn’t a good sign. “Anybody seen de Professor?” he asked the room. He tried to make it as nonchalant as he could, but there was an unwelcome hint of concern in it.

“He’s not up yet, Remy,” Jean supplied for him.

“Hmmm,” he mumbled perplexed. He left the room without any move toward the kitchen for breakfast. He was heading toward the Professor’s room. He hoped he didn’t run into anyone along the way. It wasn’t a sure thing, but he was fairly certain that Charles wouldn’t appreciate having Remy visit his room. Again, it would cause too much suspicion, but he couldn’t just stay there and wait, he’d get too impatient, he knew that, and he couldn’t lock himself away in his office because Charles never took anything that wasn’t about the team in there. Personal matters were matters for elsewhere in the mansion. In fact, that Remy could remember, the whole of their relationship took place in the boathouse, aside from Danger Room sessions and scattered meetings around the rest of the mansion.

This would definitely be a surprise to wake up to, but he hoped with the news he brought, that it would be a welcomed surprise. The door creaked open and Remy hoped that the sound didn’t wake him. He would have to remember to oil those hinges for him later. He wanted to wake Charles by himself, specially. As his footsteps carried him silently over he watched Charles in his bed, sleeping ever so peacefully. That was good. He wasn’t so upset about the night that he was having nightmares. Sitting on the bed gently enough to not wake him was harder than he thought it would be even with the muscle tone that he had. His legs burned for a moment and then cooled when he was able to rest himself completely on the bed.

For a few moments, he watched in silence, then slowly bent down to brush Charles’ lips with his own. When he didn’t quite wake, Remy deepened the kiss. Charles must have been shocked to see him there because he nearly screamed. He pushed him away rubbing his mouth with the back of his hand and wiping it on his pajamas.

“Gambit! What are you doing in my room and—and—“ he was at a loss for words. He couldn’t quite feel wholly how much he’d been violated.

“It’s okay, Charles. It’s just me,” Remy said, obviously trying to be caring and sensitive, something Remy knew that Charles hadn’t seen him attempt much. The Professor stared at the expression on his face; it was so incongruous with the circumstances. “I just came to apologize for last night. When you’re ready to tell everyone, den dat’s when dey’ll know. I shouldnna’ pushed you into it, an’ I’m sorry.”

Charles Xavier had no idea what he was apparently talking about, but the appearance was sincere¼not that it made any sense. “Gambit, what on earth are you talking about?”

Remy took on a quizzical look and gazed at Charles. “Jus’ what I said, I came to apologize for last night.”

“Please, refresh my memory¼and then explain why it warranted a kiss¼?”

“I—Charles, you don’t remember? Are you not upset any more?” he allowed a smile to grace his lips in hopes of a mood turnaround from his lover.

“Please explain this all to me; then I will be in a position to answer questions, or be upset.”

“Well¼ we had kind o’ an argument last night. It got pretty heated. I wanted you to tell the others, but you don’t have to ‘til you’re ready. I shouldn’t ‘ave pushed you. I’m sorry, Charles. An’ de kiss was my way of apologizin’.”

“Despite the fact that I still don’t remember anything of what you’re talking about, I suggest you save your kissing apologies for your female companions,” he said, again rubbing his hand to his lips. This was most inappropriate behavior.

“So now you’re disgusted wit’ me, enh? You can dish out all de sensitivity dat you want but you jus’ can’t take it? Since when you ever mind dat I kiss you before?”

“Since when did I not?” This comment seemed to give Remy pause.

“You mean dat you always minded when I kiss you before?” he asked obviously hurt and particularly perplexed.

“I mean, I’ve never had you kiss me before, Gambit. Why on earth were you doing it?”

“You never—hold up, right now. Who are you and what have you done wit’ mon amoureux?” Charles choked. He knew well the meaning of that word and wondered with sudden horror what nightmarish reality he had stumbled into.

“Gambit, I am not your¼ your—“

“Lover? You can’t even say it, can you? If dat’s how you wanna end it, den dat’s fine by me, but you jus’ remember how it made you feel and never forget it, enh?” Gambit rose in one fluid, graceful, angry motion and walked from Xavier’s room muttering obscenities.

Charles Xavier watched as he left the room appalled at the scene he had just unwittingly played a part in. How on earth could Gambit think those things about the two of them, much less act like they had come to pass? For one thing, it wasn’t like Gambit to be admitting to anything homosexual, thoughts or actions. Something had happened and Xavier had to figure out what it was, and fast.

Nobody down stairs had to look very hard to see that Gambit was upset in the worst way. Not too many people had seen him that mad over something that wasn’t vitally important, and sometimes, not even then. Most people were wise enough to leave him alone, but some people thought too much of themselves.

“Gambit, sugah, what’s th’ matter?” Rogue asked, trying to be sensitive. Her voice betrayed no sarcasm and even less ill intent.

“Wha’ do you care, Rogue? Jus’ lea’me alone.” He stormed off without an idea of where he was going. It wasn’t fair that Charles should be acting like that towards him. Love him and leave him, that’s what they did. Charles hadn’t given him anything to even work with much less work through.

Gambit wandered around the mansion grounds. Maybe he should go back to the boat house and wait for Charles there. That’s always where they went for small arguments before. Maybe that was the reason for the outburst—he was so not ready to deal with it that he wasn’t willing to treat their relationship like it existed inside the mansion. That made a little sense, but really—Charles was taking it a bit far.

He went there to wait and decided that he should probably cook something when noon rolled around and Charles sill hadn’t shown up. He went to make himself a sandwich to tide him over until he could make gumbo for the both of them for dinner so they could talk… when he found that there was no food in the boat house. That was really odd. He had restocked just recently so that he could do this sort of thing for Charles.

He looked for his coffee and in the cabinets for his spices—there was nothing here. The cupboards look like they’d been abandoned. The fridge had two things in it—neither one edible by itself—both expired. What the hell was going on?

Gambit went up to the mansion and started checking around the cupboards and in the fridge to see if the items he was missing had been stolen… for some inexplicable reason. Storm was in the kitchen and saw Remy rooting around in the cupboards and smiled at him. “Are you finally feeling up to eating, brother?”

“Stormy? Oh, hi, I was kinda’ hungry, but I couldn’t find anythin’ down in de boat house. Weird, non?”

“You’re the one who refused to let us stock the place,” she chided.

Remy didn’t remember that. “I was bein’ mighty stupid den,” he commented annoyed.

“You said it, not me,” she defended with a smile on her face. He smiled back. “I could make you a salad,” she offered. He made a face at her like he’d die of disgust.

“Salad? Gotta have some meat in m’, but tanks for de offer, chere.”

“And here I was convinced that you were going vegetarian.” Remy chuckled.

When the Professor finally came down around one in the afternoon, he looked around sleepily. “Professor, are you feeling better?”

“Much better, Storm. Thank you. That was some fever. I had the oddest dream.”

“Oh? What was it about?”

“It was fever induced, I’m certain… so there’s no need to tell.”

That was odd behavior from Charles. He wouldn’t talk about an encounter of theirs and pass it off as a dream—maybe he was talking about something else.

“Fever dreams are the most important, Professor. They tell you what you need to see, but are unable to acknowledge in your normal dreams.”

The Professor paused at that comment and looked over at Remy standing by the counter, arms crossed. “Perhaps some other time.”

“You’ll forget,” Storm assured.

“Then perhaps that is for the best,” he said as he pulled up to the table. “I am particularly famished this afternoon. Are there any left-overs from people’s breakfasts?”

“I can whip y’ up somethin’, Charles. What would y’ like?”

“Are you certain, Gambit?” he asked shyly. “I wouldn’t want to put you out.”

“I got time. Eggs? Sausage? French Toast? I’m y’ regular restaurant—what’ll it be?”

The Professor smiled at Gambit and said, “Eggs and French Toast sound wonderful, but I’m afraid I couldn’t handle anything greasy at the moment.”

“Eggs benedict, commin’ up.”

“Um… I actually prefer them scrambled if that’s easier for you,” the Professor interrupted. Gambit stopped in mid-motion as he opened up the fridge. He closed it again and turned to Storm.

“Stormy, I think I heard Jeannie callin’ y’. Y’ better go see what she wants.”

“I heard nothing, are you certain, Remy?”

“Yup.” By his cold features, she could see he had a beef with something and needed to talk about it, so she excused herself from the table and left the room. “Dat wasn’ a dream dis mornin’, Charles.”

“Oh, dear god. Then what is going on?”

“I don’ know, ‘cause my Charles likes his eggs benedict, not scrambled. Who are you?”

“I could ask the same question of you, young man.”

“Young man?” Gambit looked like he was about to yell at the top of his lungs in frustration. He took a deep breath and calmed himself though. “Okay, so we know somebody’s eider screwy in de head or somebody don’ belong here—“

“Are you finally feeling up to eating, brother?”

“Stormy? Oh, hi, I was kinda’ hungry, but I couldn’t find anythin’ down in de boat house. Weird, non?”

“You’re the one who refused to let us stock the place,” she chided.

“—and it’s probably me,” he said and collapsed to the floor as the memory processed. “Dere was no food in de boat house… like nobody lived dere, but all my tings were in m’ room.”

“I see. In that case, won’t you let me do a cursory scan of your mind to see what’s going on?”

“I’ve had y’ in m’ head b’for, Charles. It hurts.” He sighed. “But I s’pose dis is necessary, so go ‘head… jus’ be gentle.”

“Of course,” he said before closing his eyes and entering Remy’s mind.

When he was finished, he was more perplexed and appalled than before. He staggered out of his mind, breathing heavily and shaking his head. What he had seen—it was unthinkable! Stranger still was how he could feel his own emotions through Remy. It was like looking through the eyes of an empath. “I¼Remy¼.”

“You believe me now, cher?” Remy said squinting in pain. The term of endearment jarred the Professor back to reality.

“Yes… you must be from another dimension because everything I saw in your mind was real—but I would never do those things I saw myself doing.”

“I’m sorry, Charles.” Remy didn’t know what to do. He was lost in a world where his love had simply disappeared. The man in front of him had no clue how much he felt for him. “Scrambled eggs it is, den,” he finally said picking himself up off the floor and went to wash his hands.

“Remy, you don’t have to cook for me.”

“I want to—Professor.”

**********************************

Remy hid in Sara’s room for as long as he could, talking to her, kissing her, doing everything he could think of to remind himself that she was very female. Well, all that he could morally. It took some effort on his part to keep from letting it get sexual between them. When the knock came Remy stiffened and answered the door before Sara could get up off the bed they were both seated at.

Behind the door was waiting a slightly irate Jean. She didn’t’ have to say anything verbally; her eyes explained it all. She simply pointed down the hall and Remy said a brief good-bye to Sara before going down with Jean to where the Professor waited in his office. The first words out of his mouth were, “Why were you in Marrow’s bedroom?”

“I needed somebody to talk to an’ Rogue wasn’t around an’ I needed it to be a female for de moment. Considerin’ what Jean found I hope y’ain’t surprised.”

“Yes, but Marrow—“

“I didn’t sleep wit’ her, Prof! Get a hold o’ y’self!” He seemed to relax at that news.

“Please, accept my apology, Remy. I know you to be an extremely sexual person and feared the worst.” Remy shuddered. How the Professor knew that gave him the creeps.

“No, de worst is what was goin’ on in your mind, Prof., not mine.” He didn’t seem pleased to hear that, but he took it anyway.

“Please, also accept that we have differing views on that subject and we will try to return you to where you belong.”

“Belong¼?”

“Jean and I have analyzed your memory fragments closely and come to the conclusion that you are spatially displaced.”

“Murciful Lord!” he cried out in relief.

Both Jean and Xavier glanced at each other but both kept their composure. “At this point in time,” Xavier continued, “we have no idea where to begin our search for where you come from or how to get you back there, but we will find a way.”

Dread filled Remy for a moment. “And if you don’¼?”

“Then you will be welcome here, Gambit. As you have always been. You, as you are, and there will be no pressure from me, I guarantee you.” It sounded like Chuck was talking about losing his best friend. Perhaps he was. The two Gambits were not the same and though he may take his place in the team, he could never reclaim the place his Remy had in Xavier’s heart. The insight was touching, but there was still a disturbing note to it all.

************************************

“Is your head feeling all right?”

“’S okay,” he muttered as he set a plate down in front of Char—the Professor and sat with a plate of eggs and French Toast himself. His eggs were done over easy.

“Gambit, I want to let you know that I’m sorry for the confusion earlier… I shouldn’t have acted so harsh,” he said before he dug into his food.

“Yes, y’ should have. Oderwise I might not o’ gotten de hint.”

“Still, I apologize. I will try to get you back to your own world, Gambit. I’m sure another me is waiting there for you.” Remy nodded and hoped that he still had a world to go back to. He would be so miserable without his Charles. Thinking about Charles was the only way he was able to get food into his mouth and keep it down as Charles had been the one who convinced him that he should take care of himself. He missed his lover so badly and ended up crying at the table after a few bites.

The Professor set down his utensils and put a comforting hand on Remy’s arm. He didn’t want to see the boy in such pain, but didn’t know what he could do about it. “I’m jus’ afraid I won’ ever get t’ see ‘im again,” he said quietly.

“We will start working on the research for it right after breakfast,” Xavier assured. Remy nodded to his assurance, but was doubtful than anything could possibly be done. They had no idea how he got there or even where specifically it was that he came from. He was in such trouble and felt so hopeless.