Just an idea for a story. Review please if you're interested in reading more of this story!
The cold, hard rain pelted the tall figure of a man mercilessly, but he didn't seem to notice. He was trembling hard, but it wasn't from the cold of the night. His auburn hair was plastered to his scalp, while his bangs guided the rain down his face. He was a handsome man, with clear ivory skin pulled over a ruggedly carved face. His cheek bones were high and his chin pointed. Had he been in a better, calmer mood, he would have been smiling his charming, devilish smile. He was well muscled, but built more like a swimmer or acrobat than a bulky athlete. And his eyes, how special they were. Red on black, with a sparkle to them. He left a trail of broken hearts in his wake.
A frail, pitiful cry issued from beneath his unique trench coat. He adjusted his hold on the small creature, but did not look down at it. He did his best to keep it warm and dry, safe from the night, but it was hard. He only had a motorcycle for transportation, and was now walking in the rain because it had got a flat tire. He was hoping that the thing beneath his coat would go back to sleep, but when the whimper became a constant cry, he knew it wouldn't. He swore and tried to ignore the heart breaking sound, but it continued clear and loud over the sound of the rain.
In a low, melodious voice, the Cajun man began to sing as a last resort.
"Go to sleep little baby,
Got to sleep little baby"
The voice lowered its cry slightly. With hope, the man continued to sing his sad but beautiful lullaby.
"Your momma's gone away and your daddy's gonna stay, didn't leave nobody but the baby. Go to sleep little baby, go to sleep little baby."
By the time he got to the large, metal gates of his home, the Cajun had managed to lull the thing to stop crying, but it would not go to sleep. He eased his way through the gate and headed up the drive way to the beautiful mansion ahead, he finished the lullaby.
He knocked on the big wooden doors, and was slightly surprised when three minutes later it was answered by a pretty woman with red hair in a lilac bathrobe. The surprise came from how fast the door was answered, as it was just after three in the morning.
"Remy, what are you doing? Do you have any idea what time it is? Where have you been, we haven't had contact with you in over a month." The woman, Jean Grey, asked in a hushed tone. She knew the Cajun man was forever miss placing or forgetting his key card to get into the mansion, but usually he used his stealthy skills as a thief to let himself in. She had a sneaking suspicion that getting someone to wake up as three in the morning to let him in was his idea of a joke.
Tonight was different though, Remy was unable to scale the walls and avoid the mansion's security features. It was the handicap under his coat that forced him to go through the front door. He felt lucky that it was Jean who answered the door, because he needed a doctor.
"Jean, I need help." Gambit said in an anxious but quiet voice.
"What do you-oh Remy…" Jean started to ask, but stopped herself when Remy pulled back his long coat to reveal his passenger.
Cradled in the nook of his arm was a frail baby wrapped in an old black t-shirt. It was obviously premature. It's face was peaceful, but there was something heartbreaking about it. As though it had already witnessed the horrors this world had to offer. It was extremely pale and thin. One of its arms that stuck out from its makeshift blanket and it was so thin it looked like it could snap in a heavy wind. It struggled to breathe, Jean guessed because its lungs were under developed.
"Cher, can you help? She ain't do'n so good." Remy said, quickly handing the baby off to the woman.
"I-I, Remy, what-"
"Ah'll explain later. Just, help her." Was all Remy would say.
Jean held the baby close to her and nodded. Within minutes she was down in the MedBay, attempting to intubate the frail little girl. She had woken up Hank McCoy to assist her, and he was on the phone trying to get permission from a local hospital to borrow their postnatal care equipment. Other X-men had awoken from the commotion and had come down to try to help. Logan was wrapping a warmed blanket around the baby, while Storm tried to comfort the silent Cajun in the corner.
"Remy, please, take off your clothing and change into something dry." Storm pleaded, attempting to dry the Cajun's hair with a towel. "You're going to get sick sitting here like this."
Remy just shook his head. Storm became more worried, knowing that the X-man would usually make a joke of her asking to remove his clothing.
"They'll lend us a few things." Hank stated, hanging up the phone and walking over to Jean. "The Professor is a friend of the chief of the pediatrics ward. But everyone I talked to said it would be better to bring her in. We just don't have the equipment and the knowledge to help a preemie."
"Non, you can't do that." Remy said quietly. Everyone looked over at him, seeing as this was the first time he talked since he asked Jean for help. "She-she too mutant. They ain't gonna help her."
"She looks completely human." Jean stated, setting up a monitor to read the baby's vitals.
"Her eyes, they ain't normal." Was all Remy would say.
Unconsciously, everyone in the room looked to Remy's own strange eyes.
"Remy, where did this baby come from?" Jean asked softly, guessing the answer.
"Don't matter. Just take care of her."
"We are taking care of her, but you owe us some answers." Jean insisted.
"Ah don't owe yah nothing! Now just take care of the kid!" Remy shouted, out of character. As everyone looked at him in surprise, Remy walked out of the room, lighting a cigarette.
Jean started to follow him when alarms went off on the monitor.
"She's crashing!" Jean cried. Remy was forgotten as the two doctors raced to save the tiny baby's life.
Three hours later, Logan went in search of the Cajun. He followed the scent of cigarettes, leather and spices to the mansion's roof. There he saw Gambit sitting on the damp roof with his knees tucked under his chin, smoking. The rain had stopped, but the sun had not started to rise yet.
"What were you playing at back there, Gumbo?" Logan snarled. "Didn't you hear that she was crashing?"
Remy just shrugged. "Ain't nothing I could do about it."
"You could have stayed there with her while she was fighting for her life." Logan fought to stay calm when the Cajun's answer was a shrug. "She's your daughter Gambit, and you left her in there."
Remy felt his muscles tighten up and his heart run cold. He thought he could keep the truth hidden, but its hard to fool a man with super senses. He couldn't accept this. He couldn't be a père. He was too young and didn't know a thing about babies. The mother defiantly wasn't going to be in the picture. Up till Logan said the word that scared him the most, 'daughter', he had tried to be in denial. He pretended that he had no connection to the frail baby, he pretended that she wasn't human. It was easier for him then to face the truth. He never asked for this.
"How she do'n?" Remy asked softly.
"She's stable, but both Red and Hank say she has a long fight ahead of her. She's going to have to be on machines until her lungs and heart develops more." Logan answered, lighting a cigar.
Remy sighed, not sure if he was relieved or not. He felt horrible with his indecision, because he knew he should be happy that the little girl was stable, but a small uncaring part of him knew that his life would be easier if she had just died. He was glad neither Jean or Xavier were near to read his thoughts.
He stretched and ran his fingers through his hair. "What am I gonna do Logan?"
Logan reached down and offered Gambit a hand up. "First thing I guess would be going down and seeing her."
The X-men watched their teammate from the distance of the doorway. Gambit stood silently in front of the glass incubator, looking down at his child with an expressionless face.
"He just looks so…cold." Jean said in a hushed tone, leaning on her husband who had woken up and joined the others in the MedBay.
"He'll get better, he's just in shock right now." Storm defended her 'brother'. "He'll be a great father, he just needs some more time."
"She was crashing and he didn't even try to stay with her." Logan growled. He felt disgust for the way Remy was acting, and didn't have a problem showing it.
"But, I still don't get, where did she come from?" Bobby asked. When people moaned, the youngest X-men quickly defended himself. "I didn't mean it like that! I know where babies come from! I meant, who's the mother? And why didn't we know that Remy knocked some one up?"
"Maybe he didn't know." Storm said stubbornly. "If he'd known, he would have told me."
"I don't know," Scott said slowly. "It could explain his absence for the past month."
Gambit looked over at the other X-men and glared.
"Let's give them some privacy." Jean suggested, tugging at Scott's arm to lead him away. Slowly the superheroes went away, leaving the young father alone with his fragile daughter.
No matter how hard Gambit tried, he couldn't force himself to feel anything for the baby. He guessed that he could be in shock, that would explain it. He knew how new fathers were supposed to feel, or at least had a good guess, but all he felt was scared, guilty and horribly empty.
He was a young man and this baby was going to change his life.
He got a jolt when the girl freed one of her scary arms from the tightly wrapped blanket and put her tiny hand against the glass, as if she could tell he was there. Almost as an instinct, Gambit reached out as well and put his hand on the thick glasses so that there was an inch separating the two.
Despite her obvious frailty, Gambit could see a strength in her, as if there was a fire burning from inside her that fueled her.
"You gonna be alright, baby girl, just fine." Gambit said softly. He had made a decision.
Getting down on his knees, he was eye level with the small girl. Softly he sang the last part of the haunting lullaby that was once sung to him.
"Don't you weep pretty baby, don't you weep pretty baby. You and me and the devil make three, don't need no other lovin' baby. Come lay bones on the alabaster stones and be my everlovin' baby ."
He got up from the ground and took one last look at his daughter.
"Go to sleep pretty baby."
With that, the thief vanished into the night.