Betrayal - REVIEW THIS STORY

Written by Valerie Jones
Last updated: 01/02/2007 02:01:11 AM

Chapter 35

The man disciplines himself to silence as the face appears before him. As always, the projection wears no expression, but he senses both displeasure and a grudging admiration. But then, he might simply be projecting the emotions he expects his opponent to feel, he tells himself.

Beside him, Forge shifts slightly. "Time to see if he pays up."

The Witness nods. "Oui."

"You're being awfully calm about this, you realize. I'm about ready to start dancing on the tables." Forge smiles. "We won!"

For the barest moment, the Witness' reserve cracks and the mischievous grin of his youth shines through. "I'd like to see y' dancin' on de table." Then his calm mask returns. "But, as y' said, we still waitin' t' see if he pays up."

Forge doesn't respond. The face before them has solidified and watches them from seemingly empty eyes.

"Congratulations," it begins. "You have answered the challenge."

The Witness remains silent. For once, he holds the position of power in this little game.

The face pauses, as if expecting a reply, but then continues, "I will, of course, fullfil my obligation, as set down at the beginning of this contest."

The Witness nods in acknowledgement, and the face begins to dissolve. When it is gone, he allows himself a sigh.

Forge's expression is highly skeptical. "That's it?"

"What were y' expectin'?"

"I have no idea, but that wasn't it."

The Witness stirs. "You c'n complain about de lack o' fanfare later. We need to get goin' before de timeline change gets here." He heads toward the door.

"So where are we going?" Forge asks, following.

The Witness glances back over his shoulder. "To see de X-men."

For once, silence reigned the X-men. They were all gathered in the War Room, seated around the conference table. All except for Gambit, who still slept. Jean had finally finished speaking, and now sipped at a glass of water. Her green eyes watched them all over the rim. Charles was beginning to think that the war room had been a poor choice of locations to gather everyone and explain what they had learned. The expressions he saw on their faces were not what he might have hoped for.

Not unsurprising, perhaps, but Charles had found himself unable to talk easily about what he had so recently discovered about Remy. So the task had fallen to Jean, and she had been speaking steadily for the last two hours. Finally, Charles forced himself to find his voice.

"I would like to simply throw the floor open at this point." He surveyed each of the X-men in turn. "I want to hear your reactions and opinions to these. . . . revelations."

There was a quiet shuffle as people shifted in their seats, but no one spoke immediately. Gazes slowly focused on Ororo and Rogue. Ororo watched them all in return, her expression unreadable. Only the troubled crease between her aristocratic brows hinted at mixed emotions. Rogue sat with her head bowed, staring at the hands clasped in her lap. Waves of red hair obscured her face. Charles was very concerned for her. He had seen the expression in her eyes as Jean's words had been drowned by memory-- Remy's memories, permanently locked inside her mind. He didn't know exactly how much she remembered, but he could tell just from watching her that it was more than enough. Her eyes had become dark hollows in a deathly pale face before she lowered them. And she had not moved a muscle since. He wasn't entirely certain she had even heard the rest of the story.

As if his scrutiny required some kind of response, Rogue climbed to her feet, moving slowly as if she ached to her very core. Without looking at anyone, she turned and walked to the door. Charles caught only a glimpse of her face, but he saw no trace of tears or any other hint of emotion. The door slid aside for her, it's whispering sound seeming more muted than normal. Then she was gone, and the door resealed itself with a sense of finality. A few moments later, the dull report of a sonic boom announced her departure. The small, detached part of Charles' mind wondered if she had broken the windows. Sealed underground as they were, they wouldn't be able to hear such things. Then he chided himself for thinking about such trivialities when much more important things were at stake. But he knew that it was just a protective reflex-- to keep him from wondering if she would ever come back.

"That was a really rotten thing for him to do to her, y'know," muttered Bobby.

"What was?" asked Logan from beside him.

"Kissing her-- letting her absorb his memories." Bobby swung his arm in a directionless, angry gesture. "He *knew* it would rip her up."

"Maybe." Jean set her glass down. Her voice was tired. "But we all stared at that crystal wave and thought we were going to die."

She looked at the other X-men who had been there that day. "I'll agree it turned out to be a mistake, but it's an understandable one."

"No way, Jean." Bobby's jaw had taken a stubborn set. "I don't buy that. It shouldn't have been worth the risk no matter what was going on."

"I have to agree with Bobby." Scott's voice was heavy and spoke very loudly to Charles of the tension between husband and wife. Jean turned to look at her husband, the question written on her face.

Scott took a prepatory breath. "But this is all secondary to the *real* issue, which is Gambit's involvement with Sinister." If possible, the stillness around the table became thicker. No one had wanted to be the one to broach the subject that loomed in front of them all. "I think this information supports the opinion I've expressed in the past-- that Gambit does not belong with the X-men." He nodded in Charles' direction. "Despite all of the personal complications, which I do sympathize with."

"I agree with Scott," Warren interjected before Charles could speak. His expression was unyielding.

"Why?" Charles tried to keep his voice neutral. He did want to hear their opinions. Still, he knew he was highly biased, and probably in more than one direction. He didn't really trust his own opinions at this point, which is why he had asked the X-men for theirs. "What are your reasons? Scott has expressed his own to me in the past, though it might be useful for him to lay them out again."

Charles looked between the two men.

Scott took the initiative, though reluctantly. "I've said all of this before, but I just don't think Gambit is the right kind of person to be an X-man."

"An' what kind a person is *that*, exactly?" Logan's growl was less than happy.

Scott sighed. "When you get right down to it, Logan, Remy is the kind of person who always puts his own interests first, even if he doesn't realize he's doing it. Knowing what we do now, I have to say that it's not surprising that he is that way. But that still doesn't change the facts. The X-men is built on trust. Trust in each other, of course, but more importantly, trust that each and every one of us is putting the dream first, so that we're all fighting for a common goal. I'm not entirely sure what Remy's goals are, if he has any, but I can guarantee that it's *not* to make the world safer for mutants. I'm afraid that, eventually, someone is going to get hurt because of that."

"Besides Rogue, you mean."

"Robert!" Ororo's voice was sharp. "That was uncalled for."

Bobby settled back into his seat with a sullen frown.

"I'm not trying to condemn Gambit, Bobby." Scott crossed his arms. "Though I do think some kind of punishment is appropriate for what he did."

"The X-men's purpose is not to punish mutants for their past crimes," Charles said. "Nor is it our right."

Scott nodded, "Of course. That's not what I meant."

"And I can guarantee you that no physical punishment you could dream up would be worse than having to live with his guilt." Jean's expression was hard. "What would you have us do? Chain him up in the basement like Sabretooth?"

Anger sparked behind the ruby glasses, and though his eyes weren't visible, the sudden tightening of Scott's jaw made his anger clear.

"Of course not! This is entirely different and you know it, Jean."

"We just can't trust him," Warren put in before an argument erupted. "He worked for Sinister once-- knowing that what he was doing was wrong. Even if he regrets it now, there's no reason to believe that he might not fall into doing the same thing again. And this time, it could easily be the people in this room who ended up dead."

"Very well, Warren," Jean said. Her voice was so brittle with anger that Charles stared at her in surprise. "Then I guess we'll just have to throw you off the team, too."

"What? Why?" Warren's wings rustled in response to his emotions.

"You worked for Apocalypse once-- knowing that what you were doing was wrong. How can we know *you* won't someday go back to him?"

The sudden flush of blood in Warren's face turned his skin purple. His wings exploded from his back with a sound like the hiss of a living thing. The tips of fletchettes emerged, orienting on Jean. She didn't move except to raise her chin a fraction.

"Warren! That's enough!" Scott's voice cracked authoritatively. He had one hand on his glasses, the other held out protectively in front of his wife. Warren's eyes widened in sudden fear. He still did not have complete control over the wings Apocalypse had given him, but the shock of nearly shooting a teammate sobered him. The metallic wings twitched and then furled.

"You made your point," he said.

Jean's shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry to be so harsh, Warren, but the point has to be made. And it's not just you." She looked around the table. "As the dark Phoenix, I destroyed entire solar systems." Her expression said that the memories still haunted her. "And even though you can argue that it wasn't really me, that another force was controlling me-- part of it *was* me. Remy's crimes are a pittance next to that." She paused and turned to Logan, her expression apologetic. "We have no idea what crimes Wolverine may have committed in the past. Even he doesn't know." She turned next to Bishop, who had remained amazingly silent. "Bishop's actions with the X.S.E, though considered justified in his time, we consider to be murder." Bishop's eyes widened a fraction at the blunt statement. Jean looked next at Ororo. "Storm set herself up as a goddess, demanding worship and tribute. Rogue was once a dedicated member of the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants. She tried to *kill* X-men on several occassions. But we took her in, anyway. And how many of you believe she might go back to her old ways?"

Silence answered the question. Jean went on, turning this time to Charles. "And you Charles, you have used your powers to tear a man's mind out." She held up her hand. "Despite the circumstances that may have made such action necessary, the facts remain. We are *all* guilty of doing some terrible things."

"`Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.'" Hank's claws rested lightly on the tabletop. "I find I must agree with Jean. It isn't our place to judge."

Charles felt a swell of relief. His own heart was torn between condemning Remy for his actions and wanting to wipe the slate clean, so to speak, and give him the chance of a new life that he knew the young man desperately wanted. That he himself wanted, as well. In the privacy of his thoughts, Charles was forced to admit that it was in part out of guilt that he wanted to give Remy this chance. Guilt that, somehow, if he had been able to be a part of Remy's life for more than a few years, these things would never have happened. He wanted to make everything right, somehow, even though he knew he couldn't fix the past.

Ororo spoke into the silence following Jean's words. "I must confess that I am. . . . torn. I have always suspected that Remy had some dark portions to his past, though I truly did not guess *how* dark." She paused and seemed to be considering her thoughts even as she voiced them. "Remy saved my life when we first met. But still, that is not what I have cherished about him." Her gaze had taken on a faraway look. "We were running for our lives from the Shadow King. I was only a child, with little control over my powers, but I insisted on trying to fly an entire airplane as our escape, rather than just using the winds to carry us away. Remy tried to convince me that it was suicide to take the airplane, but I would not listen. He could have called me a fool-- rightly so-- and abandoned me to my fate." She smiled slightly. "He did call me a fool, though politely." Her smile died. "But he put his life in my hands instead of leaving." Her gaze returned to the present. "He trusted me long before I was willing to trust him. And when I had nothing else, no one else to depend on and no memory of who I was, he was there. In the years since I have known him, Remy has never betrayed my trust.

"It pains me greatly to know the past, but that does not change what I know about the present. In my opinion, Remy is an X-man for the same reason the rest of us are. He has earned it."

Logan nodded in agreement. "She's right. Gambit's always toed the line with the rest of us. He's put his life on the line too many times fer me ta believe that he don't care about anybody but himself." He pointed at Scott. "An' I don't much care if he believes in the Prof's dream or not. Some days, I don't think too much of it myself." He glanced sidelong at Charles. "No offense, Chuck."

Charles managed to contain his surprise and nodded. All eyes had come to rest on him. He turned to the X-men who had yet to express an opinion, beginning with the most unlikely of the list.

"Bishop?"

The giant black man turned to look at him. The "M" tatooed across his face stood out in stark contrast with the confusion in his eyes. "I . . . . would rather not say anything, Professor."

Charles felt a stab of pity. Bishop had at least as much emotional stake in this as himself. Come to think of it, he suddenly realized that Bishop was officially his grandson. The answering swirl of emotions threatened to distract him entirely from the current discussion. He did his best to push the thought away, and then turned to Betsy.

"Elizabeth?"

She sighed. "I honestly don't know, Professor. I was right, but I don't want to just condemn him. As a matter of practicality, he would most likely become our enemy-- in time perhaps a very powerful enemy. From the personal side. . . . I don't know. I'm not sure I can forgive him, but I would be ashamed to discover that I am incapable of forgiving someone who obviously *does* regret his actions. I think that's the most important thing. Remy does regret what he's done. He is trying to do what's right. What right do we have to demand anything more?"

She shrugged uncomfortably. "I'm not going to be comfortable having him at my back for a long time, though. And Scott's right that that's dangerous in a battle." Her gaze swept the room. She seemed sheepish. "I'm afraid I'm not going to be much help."

Charles turned to the last member of the team. "Sam?"

The newest X-man looked at him. His gaze was direct, but not very confident. "Ah have to agree with Scott, sir," he said. The X-men have to be a team in order to accomplish anything. Ah don't think Gambit's ever going ta really be part a the team."

Charles sighed and steepled his fingers in front of him. If he were to tally a vote, it would be four for, four against, two undecided and one abstaining. And himself. Now it was time to take up his role as leader of the X-men, and hope that he could somehow separate his personal feelings from his duty to his X-men.

He cleared his throat. "Thank you all for expressing yourselves honestly. I am reassured to know that each of you is willing to hold to your convictions, whether you think they agree with mine or not.

"I am forced to go back to the very beginning, to the purpose for which I created the X-men. That purpose is to teach mutants to live peacefully with non-mutants, and to protect mutants and humans from each other whenever one group decides to turn its intolerance into violence. That is why each of you is here. It is also why Remy is here-- to learn, as each of you has, how to live without hatred towards others. To act to protect instead of destroy. In these terms, I have to consider Gambit to be an unqualified success. Proof of the validity of my dream.

"In more personal matters-- Remy is my son. As difficult as that is to swallow, it is the truth. Therefore, this is his home, which he has a right to that has nothing to do with the X-men. I will not take that away from him again."

"Amen ta that, Chuck," said Logan.

"So Gambit is going to stay with the X-men." Scott leaned back in his chair. It wasn't a question.

Charles nodded and was saddened to know how much it hurt to be at odds with this man, who was truly the son of his heart. "If he wants to, yes," he said. "I know that there is the chance for a great deal of conflict because of this, and I do not want to see the X-men torn apart. More than anything, I do not want to see that. All I'm asking is that each of you try to make this work." He looked around and received acquiescing nods from most of the assembled.

He knew that was the best he could hope for.