BtVS by Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Marvel U by the parent company and its many artists/writers.
Written for Weaver's Challenge "Remy's Relatives" at Twisting the Hellmouth. Hopefully I've captured 'the Witness' well, I don't have much reference for him.
A heavy thud against his door woke Remy LeBeau, commonly known as Gambit, from a sound sleep.
"I'm coming, I'm coming," he drawled as he threw on his robe.
He opened the door.
He slammed it.
He cautiously opened it again.
There was a swamp on the other side of the door and a small family crypt.
He held the door open and listened to the sounds of nature greeting the dawn.
His voice rang clear in the relative silence: "Sinister?"
His question was answered from the direction of his bed, in a voice remarkably like his own: "I've always fancied myself as more of a Dexter."
Remy spun around to see a deceptively old man with long white hair. He recognized him easily... The strange man, the self-proclaimed 'Witness' to all realities, looked the same as he had when Remy had played in his 'yard' back in New Orleans.
Remy had been six.
"Haven't seen you since that adventure with Bishop, mon ami... Any reason for dis sudden appearance?"
The Witness nodded, with a faint smile.
Bishop had been quite shocked to run into him in the present. Eighty years into Bishop's timeline, they'd been friends. That far into the future, the Witness hadn't seemed a day older.
"You've lost attachments to this reality," the white-haired man said. "This is a time of rest and recovery between times of chaos. You might as well make the most of it...
"Ever wonder why, even with all the resources of the X-Men, you were never able to find your birth family... Never able to discover why they abandoned you? Look under the name of Samantha. They'll be the people you seek."
Remy frowned at this information. He'd never known the man to lie outright, but his facts were a bit hazy at times...
Arguing rarely helped.
After a pause, the brown-haired man drawled: "Ever heard of a thing called a map? Why the shortcut?"
"They're in another reality. This is easier."
"Who is... was... Samantha?"
Remy turned to look at the stone structure a few yards in front of his misplaced room.
"You've denied being an older me," Remy stated. "You've never implied you were my father, so I have to ask... Is the reason that I look exactly like you because you changed me, somehow, when I was a boy?"
"I mean, it'd help me-" he continued as he turned around, only to realize that he was now alone...
Remy packed his things and left a note on his pillow. It gave a rough version of where he might be going and who he had been sent to find.
He readied his staff, took a deep breath, and stepped through the door.
He wasn't too surprised to look over his shoulder and see no sign of his room or the doorframe.
He was stuck in another reality with no apparent way back. No way to go, but forward.
"At least I won't be missed by ma petite," Remy drawled. "She's too busy fawning over the beau her 'mama' set her up with. Is it my fault Mystique tried to jump me in her body?"
He shook his head, then leaned over to grab a rock from the ground. "Maybe dat is the case..."
Remy strolled forward, under the arch that read 'Maclay', and into the dark space within.
He charged the rock. In the familiar purple glow, he found the space where his mother had been laid to rest.
He paid particular attention to the phrase: "Loving mother of Don and Tara."
Remy raised an eyebrow. "Never thought of myself as a Don... I think I'll keep the name the Guild gave to me. Here's hoping mon pere and the rest are still walking above ground..."
It had been a long walk, but he was finally here.
Everything was in a state of disrepair, as if the people inside didn't really care about much.
It looked like they'd just come back from a long trip. The vehicle out front was still half-unpacked.
Remy quietly stood outside the run-down house for a few seconds.
He had thought about disguising his eyes, but they had been blood-red since birth.
Between that and his brown hair, they'd probably recognize him immediately.
"Mebbe ev'ryone on this Earth has eyes like mine," Remy chuckled. "How strange it'd be if here, I wasn't a mutant..."
No point in waiting. He walked past the beat up truck/camper and up the small steps.
If he believed the phone book in the booth he'd found, this was the right place.
He knocked on the door.
A short girl opened it. She looked human, with regular human eyes.
She frowned, then stated plainly: "You don't exist."
She put a hand on his chest, shoved him back a step, then slammed the door in his face.
He frowned, then knocked again.
She opened it. Just a crack.
"Please, listen to me," he said, then made a guess. "Tara..."
"No. I'm her cousin. Beth. We just left that selfish brat, may she rot, back in California."
"I see... This may sound strange, but I'm your cousin... Don..."
"No," she stated as she opened the door wider, revealing a young man with a shotgun. "He is."
"Oh. Allow me to start over..." Remy said, extending a hand to his brother. "My name is Remy LeBeau, but I believe we all share a mother-"
"Dad!" Don yelled.
The patriarch of the Maclay family walked into the room behind his relatives.
His jaw dropped.
Expressions flitted across his face, finally resulting in anger.
Mr. Maclay pushed Beth and Don out of the way, then stuck his reddened face directly in front of Remy's and began to yell: "I was told I'd never have to look at you again! Get off my property and-"
Remy suddenly moved his staff, a blur of speed, until it was just touching the older man's nose.
"Even though you're my papa, it's ne'er a good idea to yell at the man holdin' a big stick."
"Who is he?" Beth asked, frightened. "I thought the demon was just a lie they made up to keep Aunt Sam in line..."
"No," Don began. "It-"
Mr. Maclay turned and slapped Don in the back of the head.
Turning back to face the mutant, the older man snarled: "You can't be Samantha's missing spawn. That boy... You're too old to be him."
"I'm guessin' time must pass differently on dis side of reality..."
"You're just like that witch," Beth growled as she stepped between Mr. Maclay and the door. "Get out of here! Go back where you came from!"
She slammed the door in Remy's face, then turned and ran into her uncle's arms. "Oh, I was so scared, I-"
"You did the right thing, little darling, but those eyes... At first I thought he was his-"
He broke off when he heard a very familiar engine starting in the yard.
Mr. Maclay immediately grabbed the shotgun from his son and ran out the front door, just in time to see Remy driving away.
"That son-of-a-bitch hotwired my camper!"
Remy was going to have to ditch the trailer, pretty soon, but he needed to do something first.
When he was sure he was safe, he pulled over and began to search the vehicle.
Sure enough, on a map of Southern California stuffed between the seats, there was a small circle drawn in red ink and some words.
One of them was 'Tara'...
"Let's hope she takes after her mother more'n her dad."