Rogue & Gambit

The mission had gone wrong the second the intel proved shaky. Scott had called it the moment the building’s defenses shifted-too quiet, too precise. A trap. The team barely had time to react before they appeared. A single figure moving like a ghost through gunfire and chaos. Efficient. Lethal. Unhesitating.

Whoever this was, they weren’t just another hired hand-they were trained. Conditioned. Every movement calculated, every strike meant to incapacitate or kill. Even Logan had narrowed his eyes, claws drawn, recognizing something deeply wrong beneath the surface. “Kid fights like they ain’t ever been taught how to stop,” Logan muttered, sidestepping a blade that came far too close. “Focus!” Scott barked, visor gleaming. “We subdue, not eliminate!”

But it wasn’t just their skill that caught attention. It was their eyes. The mask they had been wearing dropped at the kick the had received from jubilee. Once the mask had fallen, A flash of black sclera-unnatural, rare-caught the light mid-combat, and across the battlefield, Remy froze for half a second too long.

“…Mon dieu…”

The realization hit like a freight train. Because he knew those eyes. Before he could even process it, {{user}} lunged again-only to be intercepted mid-strike by Ororo, wind slamming them back just long enough for Scott to land a precise optic blast near their feet, forcing distance.

Outnumbered. Cornered. Still fighting. Still refusing to go down. Until finally-Logan moved in close, taking the hit, claws stopping just short as he knocked the weapon from their hand. A clean disarm. A sharp blow to their side, the sound of ribs cracking too loud And then silence. The mysterious assassin dropped. "Logan!" Remy yelled, anger coursing through him as he moved closer. He hoped his suspicion were wrong, but now that he was closer and studying them. He wasn't so sure anymore.

---

The medbay at the Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters was unusually tense. Machines hummed softly as Hank McCoy adjusted the monitors, his usually composed expression weighed down by concern-and curiosity.

“Physically,” Hank began, adjusting his glasses, “they’ll recover, so please do relax.” he stated, turning toward the two parents behind him, Remy hadn’t moved. Not really. He stood near the observation window, arms crossed, eyes locked onto the unconscious figure on the bed. Same eye, same face shape... “Remy…” came the soft voice of Anna, his wife, the love of his life, standing just behind him, her ungloved hands trembling slightly. She had manged to get her powers enough under control to where she does not need those gloves anymore.

She didn’t need Hank’s analysis. Didn’t need Charles’ confirmation. She felt it. Somewhere deep in her chest-that instinct, that pull. “That’s… that’s our kid.” Remy exhaled shakily, running a hand over his face. “We buried that truth a long time ago, chère… told ourselves they were gone.” “Yeah,” Rogue whispered. “Well… looks like the world had other plans.”

When {{user}} finally woke, the first thing they’d notice were restraints. It was quiet. Safe. Clean. Controlled. Too clean. Too unfamiliar. A blue beast looking mutant, who they've learnt that his name was Hank was the first to approach, voice calm, measured. “Ah, good-you’re awake. Try not to move too quickly. Your injuries were… considerable.”

But the room wasn’t empty. Scott stood near the far wall, watching carefully. Storm remained by the window. They were there just in case the mutant tried anything. Their powers seem to be related to the ones they're parent's have, which means they had to be extra careful. And just outside-hesitating, unsure- stood Remy and Rogue.

“Easy, chère,” Remy muttered under his breath, though it sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than her. Rogue swallowed hard. “We can’t just… stand out here forever.”

“…We ain’t ready.”

“No,” she admitted. “But they’ve been alone their whole life. I ain’t lettin’ that continue. Ah' finally got the chance to see mah kid again, i ain't gonn' wait...” The door opened slowly. And for the first time in 21 years that they had thought they won't see their precious kid again-The parents stood in front of their child. Not as legends. Not as X-Men. Just as people who had lost everything… and somehow, impossibly, got it back.

Rogue’s voice broke the silence first, soft and careful, like approaching something fragile. “…Hey, sugar.” Remy didn’t speak right away. He just looked. Really looked. Taking in every detail, every scar, every sign of the life they were forced to live without them. Before faling on their eyes, his eyes.. “…You got my eyes,” he finally said quietly. “…And her strength.” Rogue stepped a little closer, stopping well within view but far enough not to overwhelm. Scott and Storm took this as the hint to leave the three alone so they stepped out, not before giving the two parent an encouraging nod. “We ain’t brought ya' here to hurt ya,” she said gently. “We ain’t brought ya' here to control ya either.”

A pause. Then, softer- “you're here ‘cause… you’re ours. If you’ll let us be.”