Unchained Instinct ( Complete)

Chapter 52

Charles paused outside of Logan’s and Kurt’s room, listening with his ears as well as his mind. The turmoil inside of Logan rolled and swamped, trying to bury the man in a flood of darkness and unspent rage.

The sound of Kurt’s voice lilted through the door, trying to convince Logan of something, frustrated fear echoing in his tone.

When he knocked Kurt’s voice went silent and he heard the pattered of Kurt’s feet coming towards the door.

Upon opening, a sorrowful pain anchored in Charles’ chest. The lad’s exhaustion hadn’t abated from the night before, obviously not receiving the healing of a good sleep.

“Professor,” Kurt said, glancing back at Logan. His tired gaze returned to Charles and the boy tried for a smile. “Good morning.”

“Good morning to you, Kurt. How is Logan?”

“I don’t wanna talk to nobody.” Logan’s growling voice reached across the room with little trouble.

Kurt squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his temple as if he had a headache. “Not so good. He’s had nightmares all night. We haven’t slept well.”

“As I can tell. I need to see him, Kurt...whether he wants to or not.”

Flinging a glance behind him, Kurt shrugged and opened the door further. “Good luck. He’s in a terrible mood. I was trying to get him to come down for some breakfast...or lunch actually, considering it’s afternoon.”

Charles rolled in and saw Logan across the room, sitting slumped in a chair almost hidden in shadow. The drapes were half drawn against the bright daylight.

“I said I don’t wanna talk to nobody, elf,” Logan growled again then looked up and met Charles’ gaze, dark eyes rolling away, unable to maintain contact. “Doc.”

“Logan. It’s good to have you back home.”

“Yeah, anything’s better than The Bitch’s hospitality.”

“I’m sure.” Charles hesitated, uncertain as to how to proceed. Something was terribly wrong here. Logan had faced many harrowing situations before, but whatever Mystique had done seemed to have affected Logan all the way to his soul. “Everyone is very concerned about you,” he finally said.

Logan didn’t look up. “I’m fine. Tell ‘em thanks for rescuin’ me.”

“I think they’d rather hear that from you.”

Logan shook his head and ran his fingers back through his hair. Those dark haunted eyes closed and an expression of anguish swept Logan’s rugged features. “Not up to seein’ nobody right now, Chuck. Not up to talkin’.”

Charles frowned. Logan wasn’t a talker, but he also wasn’t one to avoid a situation even if it proved uncomfortable. He studied Logan for a long moment then turned his attention to Kurt who stood close by, on call if Logan needed him.

“Kurt, please give us a few minutes alone.”

The lad let out a sigh that sounded like relief. “All right. I’ll go make some lunch and bring it up to him if he won’t come down.”

“That’s an excellent idea. And take your time.”

Kurt nodded and with one last concerned glance, the boy disappeared in a puff of acrid smoke.

Silence reigned for more than a minute. Logan stared between the half closed drapes, lost somewhere in thought.

“The lad is quite concerned about you, Logan.”

A nod came, slight, almost indiscernible. “I’m not tryin’ to hurt him, Chuck. I love the elf. He’s hurtin’ cause he knows I’m hurtin’...and that his momma did the damage.”

“Scott and the others tell me you lost a great deal of blood.”

Another nod and a sigh followed close behind. With a slow deliberate move, Logan turned back and met Charles’ gaze. “Yeah, a guy tends to bleed a lot when he’s havin’ his guts ripped out over and over again.”

Charles suppressed a flinch, the flash of horrendous pain slamming through his brain like a personal assault.

But other darker images tried to rise above the agony of ripped flesh and blood loss, strobing in images that made no sense to Charles. A dark and primal beast reared up, a snarling monster of brutal lust and raging anger.

A snarl roared out of Logan and he shot up out of his chair and stalked the room, pacing like a caged animal.

“Logan!”

A feral gaze turned on Charles, too close to the man he’d first met so long ago and had helped to control primal desires and instinctual reactions.

A shudder ran through Logan, his teeth gritted together, bared like an animal ready to pounce. Both hands went to Logan’s face and he turned away, staggering to a wall to lean.

“Oh god, Chuck,” Logan mumbled.

Charles rolled closer and reached out a hand to Logan’s arm with a gentle touch. “It’s all right, Logan. You’re home now. It’s over.”

“What makes ya think so? It’s just startin’....just like the elf. Now we gotta deal with the aftermath of some sadistic pervert’s idea of revenge all over again. As if they have a right to it...as if the elf and me deserved it.”

“There’s more, isn’t there?” Charles asked. “Mystique is creative to say the least. She didn’t just hurt you physically. I can see that without trying. And Kurt knows it as well.”

Logan turned then, back to the wall. “You know her probably better than any of us, Chuck. Use your imagination.”

“Rogue said you thought she was Mystique. That she had to convince you by using her powers on you.”

A terrible smile full of bitterness pulled at Logan’s mouth. “Ya got yer answer then, don’t ya?”

“Oh Logan,” Charles sighed.

“Don’t pity me!” Logan snarled, finger pointing like the sharp honed edge of a knife. “I’ll live with what she did and I’ll deal with it. But I can’t face those kids right now. I can’t look a single one of them in the face. Not right now anyway.”

“What about Kurt?”

“What about him? She didn’t use him against me. I don’t know why. Maybe she thought I’d like it too much.”

Charles shuddered inwardly, his imagination trying too hard to conjure Logan’s ordeal. He pushed the thoughts away and focused on the immediate problem.

“What can we do to help you?”

Logan shook his head. “I don’t know, Chuck. I just need some time to deal with this thing without all the others in my face with their sympathy and pity. They gotta know how much I appreciate them searchin’ for me and findin’ me. But I just can’t tell them right now, not face ta face.”

Charles nodded. “Most of the students have already gone home for the summer. Kitty’s leaving in the morning...as well as Bobby. Even Jean and Scott will be taking off for a month or so to visit family.”

“Kitty? Bobby?” Logan looked confused. “I thought they’d already gone.”

Charles allowed himself a smile. “They had, but when they found out you were missing, they returned to help. The others wanted to, but their parents wouldn’t let them.”

Logan’s gaze wandered inward. “They came back to help me.”

“Yes. Logan, they love you and respect you.”

Logan’s expression turned bitter again and hard as stone. “Yeah. Right. If they only knew the real me. The one Mystique dredged up from somewhere deep inside of me.”

“We all have those places, my friend. Sometimes the darkness wins, but we keep fighting it and as long as we keep fighting back, ultimately, the light inside of us wins.”

“I don’t know, Doc. I hope yer right. I’ve fought that part of me before and won, but I don’t know if I’m up to that fight again.”

“I know you are, Logan. I’m certain of it. You are a decent man, a good man.”

A knock came at the door and Kurt peeked in, one hand and his tail balancing a tray of food. “Is it all right to come in?”

“Yes, of course,” Charles said, maneuvering his chair and heading it towards the door. He stopped and looked back at Logan. “Remember, we are your friends. We’re here to help.” He glanced at his watch. “Now I have an appointment. You’re in good hands, Logan. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

Logan nodded and Charles left the couple, closing the door behind him.

Nausea tried to crawl up Charles’ throat at the thought of what Mystique had done to Logan. Words hadn’t expressed the deeds in detail, but he knew enough and that coupled with the images radiating out of Logan, Charles how little doubt of just how despicable those deeds were.

He rolled down the hall and the elevator waited, taking him to the first floor. He rolled into his office to find his appointment already arrived, settled into a comfortable chair and sipping coffee.

Gambit turned as he entered, a half smile pulling at one corner of mouth. The scarlet gaze sparkled with intelligence and some amusement...perhaps enjoying the irony of his position as an invited guest now regularly into the Xavier mansion.

“Bon jour, Professor Xavier,” Gambit drawled, standing as any gentleman would.

“Good afternoon, Gambit, please sit,” Charles replied, rolling around to face the man without putting a desk between them. “Thank you for coming at my request. I wanted to thank you personally for your assistance the last few days and nights. Rogue informed me that you were instrumental in finding and rescuing Logan.”

The smile broadened and Gambit gave a single nod. “Ma pleasure, Professor. Logan not ma favorite person in the world, but Ah doubt he deserve what Mystique might think up ta do ta a man.”

“Well, needless to say, we are all grateful for your help. My only question to you is why? Why did you help us?”

Gambit leaned back and sipped his coffee then put the cup aside. Scarlet eyes rose to meet Charles’ gaze, an earnest expression crossing his handsome features. “That a good question. Could be, Gambit just want ta impress a pretty little lady like Rogue. Or could be, he thinkin’ he don’t care for the direction ‘is life’s headin’ and want somethin’ different for ‘is future.”

“Are you looking for guidance, Gambit? Or do you prefer to be called Remy?”

A little chuckle emerged from deep in Gambit’s throat. “Not too many call me Remy anymore. Mostly, those Ah don’t care ta associate with much these days, mostly from when Ah was a child. But Ah don’t mind it really. Sometimes Ah like ta hear ma real name...particularly when Rogue say it.”

Charles offered a smile. “I find most of my students like both their given names and their code names depending on the situation. But, perhaps we’ll just stick with Gambit for now.”

Gambit shifted elegantly and crossed one leg over the other. The man possessed a natural grace that many never acquired even with practice. In street clothes, Remy LeBeau appeared unassuming...except for the eyes that gave him away as a mutant.

“Guidance?” Gambit mused. “Ah guess maybe Ah’m just lookin’ for a place to be...not too unlike most people in the world. And Ah’m none too happy where Ah’ve been lately.”

“Magneto?”

Gambit nodded. “Like Ah told Rogue, the man never was all there, but he’s got...what ya wanna call it? Charisma?”

“Power and charisma often come hand in hand,” Charles agreed, steepling his fingers and resting his chin on their tips.

“But after that run in with Apocalypse, Magneto got all introspective. Ah don’t know what he’s doin’ or thinkin’, but Ah decided Ah don’t want no more of it whatever it turn out ta be.”

“Are you looking for a place with the X-Men?”

Surprise lighted in Gambit’s eyes. “Right ta the point, Professor. Ah like your style. Maybe Ah like what Ah see here, the way ya’ll treat each other...like family. With respect. Nobody’s nobody’s lackey. Nobody been coerced inta bein’ here.”

“Were you coerced into working for Magneto?” Charles leaned forward, his interest peeked.

“Not Gambit. Not Pyro. And sure not that rotten lowlife, Sabertooth. But Pietor...Collosus, Magneto been holdin’ somethin’ over ‘is head. Ah think ‘is family’s safety. Like Ah told Rogue. Ah don’t like that. Ah don’t cotton ta forcin’ nobody ta do what they don’t wanna do. Ah had enough a that as a child ta fill a lifetime.”

Charles leaned back and studied Gambit and in return, Gambit studied him. “Thank you for your honesty. You could have easily played on my sympathies,” Charles finally said.

“Gambit been called a lot a things, but honest ain’t been one a them,” Gambit replied with an odd expression. “Ah kinda like how it sound.”

Charles let a smile tug his mouth up. “I’d like to offer you a place with the X-Men, Gambit...on a trial basis. There would be a probationary period...to see if you meshed well with the others, but I have a feeling you’d fit in and you’re already well trained. Your skills would prove useful, I’m most certain.”

“Well, Ah suppose Ah’m flattered, Professor. Ah’d need some time ta think it through, but Ah’m havin’ trouble believin’ Cyclops don’t have a problem with Gambit comin’ on board.... what with bein’ an enemy not so long ago and all.”

“Scott is team leader and he may have concerns about you, but I believe you’ll prove yourself soon enough. I think you already have.”

“What do Ah gain from joinin’ up with the X-Men?” Gambit asked.

“Room and board, a salary and the companionship of some very good people. But this isn’t just about what the X-Men can do for you, Gambit. It’s just as much about what you can offer to the team. I’d expect you to teach the younger students just as Logan and Ororo do...and now Scott and Jean.”

Another chuckle escaped. “What ya expectin’ me ta teach? Lock pickin’? Card sharkin’?”

“Excellent skills to know. Sometimes blowing a hole in a wall isn’t appropriate to gaining access to buildings as much as the subtleties of defusion. And the cognitive skills required to play a good hand of poker can be as essential as the ability to read minds and teleport. Your skill with the staff would also be a worthy instruction. I want the students to be able to protect themselves and others even when they are unable to use their mutant talents.”

Gambit nodded through Charles’ recitation, an intelligent mind taking in and processing at a remarkable speed. Looking up, Gambit flashed a winning smile, full of charm and amusement.

“Like Ah said. Ah need ta think on your proposition.”

“Oh course,” Charles said. “I understand. I’ll have your answer within the week?”

“Within the week then.” Gambit rose and extended a hand. Charles took it and shook. “Au Revoir, Professor Xavier. Ah can find ma way out...or maybe find maself a pretty Rogue ta talk to before Ah go.”

Charles smiled as Gambit backed out of the door with a bow and a mock salute. He let out a sigh after Gambit had gone. Soon, he’d have to talk to the team...particularly Scott...before the lad left to visit his brother in Hawaii...and Charles was not looking forward to the conversation in the least.