Welcome To The Inferno~

After seeing Mr. Kang again, Melanie finds herself haunted by memories. Seeking to understand her past and help her cope, Remy pushes past her walls to find his way into her heart.

AO3 link here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/69018851/chapters/239556336#workskin

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕹𝖎𝖓𝖊: 𝕱𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝕮𝖍𝖎𝖑𝖉𝖍𝖔𝖔𝖉'𝖘 𝕳𝖔𝖚𝖗

Warnings: Strong language, depictions of violence, anti-mutant bigotry, death, and attempted murder.

The air seemed to burn in Melanie’s lungs. Even though she was running, her whole body felt cold.

The night air was thick with the smell of smoke and gunpowder. Her heart roared in her ears, drowning out the sounds of the docks around her. She dodged between shipping containers and around buildings, desperate, terrified. 

CRACK! CRACK!

Melanie gasped as a bullet hit a container to her left, bringing with it a shower of sparks. She could hear them screaming behind her–the Friends of Humanity. 

Keep running, she thought. Run or die. Run or die. Run or die. 

She skidded around a corner, barely having enough time to stop herself before she would have slammed face-first into a wall.

“No!” She turned around, chest heaving, ears ringing. The shadows of the men after her fell across the slope of the alleyway. 

Nowhere to go. This is it. Oh god, oh god, please–!

The next thing she felt was the air as she tumbled towards the icy waters of the docks.

“AH!”

Melanie woke with a start, panting. But she was safe in her bed. She put her head in her hands.

“Stupid fucking nightmare…”

Melanie had never been much of a sound sleeper. But ever since seeing Mr. Kang in the city again, she’d had nightmare after nightmare for almost a week now. They were starting to get more annoying than scary. But only just. 

“You alright, petite?” Remy asked as she came down for breakfast. “Y’look like ya had yaself a rough night. Some beignets to cheer you up?”

Melanie smiled, taking the offered pastry. “You’re a gem, Remy LeBeau.”

“Remy know, petite, Remy know~”

But even as she enjoyed the fluffy, sugary treat, it was as if a pall had been cast over her. It lingered all day; through drills, lessons, patrols, Melanie wasn’t herself. 

Remy found her later in their spot, perched on the branch of a tree. She tugged at her feathers idly, a bad nervous habit she’d had since she’d gotten her wings as a child. 

“Remy t’ought he might find ya here,” He said softly, looking up at her. “What’s wrong, mon ami?”

Melanie sighed, leaning back against the trunk. “I’m fine. Really.” She tugged out another feather. “Just…going back to the city brought a lot of things back for me.” 

Remy nodded. “I can understand dat, petite. Need someone to talk to ‘bout it?” He asked. 

Melanie stared at the feather in her hand, before letting it go. It drifted down to the soft grass of the meadow like a petal from a flower. 

 “I had a shit childhood, to put it bluntly,” She admitted. “I’m sure you put that together. I was on the streets ever since I was eleven. Went through a lot. And my brain loves to remind me of the worst parts. Apparently, especially when I’m sleeping.”

“Oh,” Remy nodded, understanding. “Nightmares, eh? Dey never a good time. Remy right dere wit’ you, petite.”

Melanie looked down at him. “Yeah? What are yours about?”

Remy gave a half-sympathetic, half-smug smirk. “Uh uh, dis conversation ‘bout you, petite. Counselor LeBeau’s office is open for business.”

Melanie scoffed out a laugh. She sighed. 

“When I was seventeen, I had a crew I ran with,” She said. “We’d do what young, stupid, thieving kids do: work the Square, and spend our haul on booze and smokes and food. They were one of the only good things in my life then.” Melanie smiled at the memory, but it quickly faded.

“But one day, we got too cocky. Me and one other girl robbed this guy blind. Clipped his watch, wallet, the works. But he figured it out too fast. Came after us. We fought back, used our powers.” Melanie’s jaw clenched. “And he went crying to the Friends of Humanity. So they found us…and went mutant hunting.” 

The silence that stretched between them was like the pause between a wound and its pain. 

“Oh, ma petite…” Remy reached up, squeezing her hand. “Remy know dat pain. I’m so sorry, Melanie.”

Melanie squeezed his hand back. “Thanks. I’m okay, mostly. It’s just…” Her breath caught as she realized her eyes were burning. “We were just kids. We were stuck, dirt poor. We did what we had to. I just–” Her voice finally broke. “I don’t understand why it’s just me who survived. They should be here. All of them.” She sniffled, wiping her wet eyes. 

Remy nodded. “I know de feelin’,” He said, his thumb rubbing the back of her hand. “Lost my cousin when I was jus’ a boy. Saw it happen. Was a job gone wrong, jus’ like you. Took Remy a long while t’forgive himself for dat. Spent a long time beatin’ myself up, t’inkin’ I coulda saved him. But like ya said, petite. We was just kids. We shouldn’t have had t’deal wit’ dat nonsense.”

Melanie allowed herself a soft smile. “You sure you’re not the mind reader? Because that was pretty spot on.” She laughed. 

“Non, petite. Remy jus’ been around de block enough times t’know dat in de t’ievin’ life, most of us got de same scars.” He said warmly. 

“True that, Cajun.”

Melanie finally came down from her perch, wings catching her on the way down before vanishing in a burst of amethyst light. “Alright, enough moping. I still have dish duty tonight after dinner.”

“Speakin’ o’ tonight,” Remy said with a playful grin, “How ‘bout we have ourselves a lil sleepover, non? Dat way, Remy can chase dem nightmares away for ya.”

Melanie snickered. “Fat chance, Cajun. But…I appreciate the thought.”

Remy smiled wider. “Oho, don’t t’ink Remy didn’t notice how ya gettin’ softer ‘round him when he flirts. Knew I’d work my way into ya heart eventually, petite.” 

“Uh huh.” 

Melanie glanced up at him. “I don’t know about a sleepover…but would you settle for a movie night?” She offered. “Kurt has a collection of some of the stupidest horror B-movies known to man, and we always have a good time laughing at them. Wanna give it a shot?”

Remy gave a full, bright grin. 

“It’d be my honor, petite.”

Once the mansion had wound down for the day, Melanie and Remy met with movies and snacks in tow. 

“You know, Remy didn’t notice de last time, but you really went an’ made dis cozy in here, petite,” He said, taking in her space. 

It was true; over the past six months, Melanie had changed her room dramatically. Gone was the stuffy, austere atmosphere, replaced with a hodgepodge of her favorite things; everything in shades of purple, black, or blue, a hammock high in a corner to perch in, and a collection of trinkets scattered around. She couldn’t deny her own avian love for shiny things, after all.

Melanie grinned as they settled down on the end of her bed. “Well, someone had to make it feel less like a museum in here,” She chuckled, opening a bag of spicy chips.

“Oui. Now it’s ya own lil nest.” Remy said with a smile, snagging a chip from the bag.

“Hey!”

“Remy a t’ief, petite!”

“Then I’m stealing some of your gratons.”

“Noooooooon!”

The night went on, laughter, snacks, and jokes about the movie exchanged between them. Melanie’s room had felt heavy at night because of her dreams; but with Remy here, it began to feel manageable again. Warm and comforting. Melanie could almost swear she could taste that cinnamon on the air again. She hadn’t looked at his mind since the mission–not that she could get much deeper than the surface–but his mind was one of the few places she found herself feeling safe. 

Remy glanced over at her, his red-on-black eyes soft in the dim light of the room. “How ya feelin’, petite?” He asked softly. “Ya look like ya ‘bout to conk out on me.”

As if on cue, Melanie yawned softly. “Mmm…I’ve got another movie in me,” She assured him. “Besides, I bet you’ll tuck me in if I pass out. Thanks for doing that when I was drunk that one time, by the way. That was sweet.” 

Remy smiled fondly at the memory. The room was too dim for Melanie to see it, but he could feel a gentle blush rise to his cheeks. He took Melanie’s hand, pressing a quick kiss to her knuckles. “My pleasure, petite. Ya need ya rest, non?”

Melanie paused for a moment, feeling her own face heat up. She pulled her hand away gently, smiling shyly. “Yeah. Thanks, furet.” 

Eventually, as the next movie drew to a close, Melanie couldn’t deny sleep anymore. She let out a long yawn, sitting up and stretching. “Alright, I yield,” She said groggily. “Bedtime. Let’s get this all cleaned up.”

With Remy’s help, they cleaned up all the trash from their snacks and tucked the movies into their cases neatly. 

“There,” Melanie said with tired satisfaction. She turned to him, looking him up and down. “Time to hit the sack.” 

They paused. Looking at one another. Melanie didn’t need her telepathy to know they were thinking the same thing.

I don’ want t’leave. 

I don’t want him to leave. 

It was Remy who broke the silence. “You sleep tight now, petite,” His voice was soft, the barest hint of sadness in his eyes. 

“Yeah,” Melanie said quietly. “Yeah, I will.”

The sound of Remy leaving–leaving very hesitantly–felt like a coffin being nailed shut.

The room was dark again. Quiet and cold. Melanie felt her stomach twist for a moment.

She shook her head. “Stop it,” She scolded herself. “You’re tired, Leblanc. Go to bed.”

Sleep did not come easily. And when it finally laid itself over her like a shroud, once again, her dreams were haunted. 

A playground. The cold autumn air of Brooklyn tugged at her cheeks and face as Melanie sat on the swing. Her legs were just too short to reach the ground, so she stood on tiptoe to help herself swing a bit. The night wind whistled through alleyways, jostling clotheslines and tangling her hair. Just a few more hours, she told herself. Just wait until the bus comes.

“Hey, kid. What are you doing out here by yourself?”

There was a man looking at her. He looked worried, looking around to see if she was with anyone. 

“Are you lost, sweetheart? Where’s your mommy and daddy?”

Melanie shook her head. “I’m not sposta talk to strangers.”

The man nodded, keeping his distance. “That’s a very smart thing to do, kiddo. But it’s not smart to be out here alone. Are your parents around?”

Melanie kicked at a pebble with the barest tip of her shoe. She missed. 

“M’waitin’ for the bus,” She explained. “M’goin’ to school in the morning.”

“The bus? Sweetie, there’s no school bus route down here.”

“No, not a school bus, mister. Regular bus. M’goin’ to a school up in Westchester.”

“Westchester?” The man pulled out his phone, scrolling for a minute. Melanie froze. Was he calling the police?

The man sighed, pocketing his phone. “That bus doesn’t come until six, kid. It’s three.” He tucked his hands into his pockets, looking down and chewing his lip as he considered. “You want someone to sit with you? Until the bus comes, or your parents come?”

Melanie thought about it for a moment. It was cold, and lonely out here on her own.

“Mhm.”

So, the man sat on the swing next to her. He looked at her, relaxing when he noticed she at least had a decent coat on. 

“So…why are you going to Westchester? Shouldn’t your parents be taking you?”

“Mm…my daddy doesn’t want me to go.” Melanie admitted, looking at her lap.

“Yeah? Why not? Too far away? Too much money?”

“No…Daddy says I’m special. Like my mommy. And he worries about it.” 

The man raised an eyebrow. “Special?” He looked truly worried now. Was she special needs or something? How was there not an Amber Alert out on this girl yet?

“Mhm. I can do things. Scary things.”

“Scary things? What kind of scary things can you do?” The man asked, humoring the little girl.

“Mm…like this.” 

Melanie screwed up her face hard. She felt her eyes burn, and knew that they were turning black. She reached out her small hands towards the merry-go-round, grunting hard. Slowly it began to spin on its own. Faster and faster, round and round, until Melanie let it go, gasping. 

“See?” She turned to the man with a smile as her eyes went back to normal.

But the man wasn’t smiling.

He stood up quickly, chest heaving. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?” He snarled. 

Melanie blinked, confused. Her heart began to race. 

“You’re one of those things,” He spat. “One of those freaks. You’re a mutant!”

Melanie was frozen, staring wide-eyed as the man reached into his jacket pocket. 

“Come here, mutie!”

Melanie screamed as he grabbed her arm, writhing in his grasp. “Let go of me! I want my Daddy!”

“Your daddy isn’t here, you little gene freak,” The man spat. “No wonder he isn’t, I’m doing him a favor! No one wants a mutie for a kid!”

Click.

Melanie looked up, eyes wide and full of tears, as the man cocked the pistol. Cold washed over her. Her heart felt like it was going to explode.

Nonononononono!

She saw his finger start to squeeze the trigger. She screamed.

CRACK! 

The man fell back, limp. The gun skidded across the playground asphalt. His eyes were bloodshot, a trickle of red beginning to leak from his nose. Neck broken, dead. 

Melanie burst into sobs. “I’m sorry!” She wept. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“NO!” 

Melanie bolted up out of bed, panting. She struggled to catch her breath, and with a start, realized she was crying. Pain twisted in her stomach, and she sobbed.

“I’m sorry,” She sniffled, tugging her knees up to her chest and burying her face in them. “I didn’t mean to…”

The door suddenly swung open. Melanie looked up with a gasp.

“Petite, are ya–oh, no.” Remy crossed the room in a few strides, sitting on the bed to put a comforting hand on her back. “Another nightmare?” He asked softly. 

Melanie let out a sob, nodding. 

“Oh, petite…c’mere.” Remy pulled Melanie into a hug, rubbing her back soothingly. “It alright, petite. Let it out. Remy got ya.”

Melanie wept against his shirt, clinging to him like an anchor in a storm. Remy shushed her gently, helping to keep her grounded. 

“Easy, easy, ma devinette,” He said softly. “Y’alright. Ya safe, right here wit’ me.”

Melanie’s sobs eventually turned to gentle sniffles, and she was able to sit up. Remy wiped her damp cheeks gently. 

“Dere she is,” He said softly. “Dere’s Remy’s girl. Ya wanna tell Remy what happened, ma chère?” 

Melanie took a moment to get her hitching breath under control. “I’m okay,” She managed. “Ju-just another stupid dream.”

Remy looked at her, brows knit together. “About…?”

Melanie didn’t answer. 

“Okay, chèrie. Ya don’t have t’tell Remy if ya don’t want to.”

“N-no, I…” Melanie swallowed thickly. Then she sighed. “It’s okay…you can know.”

She sat back, looking down at her lap, unsure of how to begin. 

“I wasn’t always a street kid,” She explained. “I ran away from home when I was eleven. I was being stupid. I could have died. I almost did.” She looked up at him. “There was this man…he tried to kill me for being a mutant. I didn’t have a good handle on my powers then, and…I killed him by accident.” Another sob wracked her. “I was just a kid…I didn’t mean to…”

Remy quickly pulled her back into his arms. “Oh, petite…shh, it okay. Ya said it yaself, ya didn’t mean to. It was self-defense, mon corbeau.” 

Melanie clung to him, shaking, as she let out the last of her tears. “Ugh,” She sat up, chiding herself for the absolute mess she’d made of herself. “Sorry for dragging you into this. God, I’m a wreck.”

Remy cupped her face. “Don’ apologize, corbeau. Everybody need t’fall apart every now ‘n den.” He brushed the hair out of her face. “Remy jus’ happy he was here for ya.” 

Melanie smiled. “Me, too. Thank you, Remy.”

“My pleasure, Mel.” He said fondly. “You sure you don’ need someone t’stay wit’ ya…?”

Melanie’s eyes widened a moment. She paused, thinking. 

“Actually…could you stay with me tonight? Please?”

Remy smiled softly. “It would be my honor, petite.”

After getting herself properly cleaned up, Melanie slipped back into bed. Remy joined her between the sheets, pulling the covers over them gently. 

“Comfy, mon corbeau?” 

“Yeah…”

“Bon.”

His hand settled gently on her waist to ground her, his thumb tracing circles against her pajamas. “Bonne nuit, Melanie.”

“Night, Remy…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Friend tags, for your reading pleasure and convenience!

Having finally become a fully-fledged X-Man, Melanie grapples with what it means to wear the X, and encounters a bright light from her shadowy past. AO3 link here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/69018851/chapters/237568886#workskin

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕰𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙: 𝕿𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖊 𝖂𝖍𝖔 𝕯𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒 𝕭𝖞 𝕯𝖆𝖞

Warnings: Strong language.

(I may or may not have forgotten to post this here, so tumblr gets two chapters today!)

A week had gone by since Melanie and Remy had put the Mystique incident behind them. The world was all the better for it. With her guilt fully absolved, Melanie was able to walk into Professor Xavier’s office with her head held high.

“So you’ve decided,” Charles Xavier smiled warmly at Melanie from behind his desk. “Well, I’m certain the team will be overjoyed to know you are officially accepting the label of X-Man, Melanie. I know you will do right by the title.”

“Thanks, Professor,” She said with a nod. The man still put her off a bit, but it was less to do with an expectation of malice and more to do with a general disdain for authority. “Hope I survive the experience.” She joked. 

As she stepped out of the office, Remy was leaning against the wall, idly toying with a card as he waited for her. “So, it official den?” He asked with a grin. When she nodded, he chuckled, pushing off the wall and draping an arm around her shoulders as they walked. “Well, Remy t’ink dat dis call fo’ a celebration! Whaddya say you, me, ‘n everyone else who like a lil liquid courage paint de town red tonight?”

“Sounds like my kinda night, furet.” The nickname had been a recent development, after a teasing match where they’d made each other cackle with more and more ridiculous nicknames that they came up with for each other. “First one to get shitfaced buys the next round the next time we go out?”

“Ha! Oh, you gonn’ regret dat one, petite! Ain’t no one ‘o dem X-Men can outlast de Ragin’ Cajun, ‘cept ole Logan, ‘o course. Dat’s why we ain’t invitin’ ‘im.” Remy laughed. “Mais, if ya offerin’ t’buy de good whiskey next time when ya loose…who’s Remy t’deny ya?”

Melanie grinned wickedly. “Oh, I can’t wait to whoop your ass. If I win, we’re going to a fancy bar and you can buy me a damn good vodka martini.”

“We’ll see, petite!”

As they headed down the hallway, they ran across Morph and Logan.

“Ah, there’s the lady of the hour! So what’s the verdict, Hit-and-Run? You officially caught the X bug?”

“Like a hole in the head, Morph.” Melanie chuckled. “Remy here’s treating me to a night out to celebrate.”

Logan let out a laugh that was more of a grunt. “Smart kid,” he joked. “Well, I’d say after the bullshit with Mystique, you earned it. Have fun, bird.”

“I’d love to tag along, but Wolvie and I have plans. You two crazy kids have fun. Just don’t add or subtract from the population!” Morph laughed, walking off down the hall with Logan.

“Date night,” She chuckled to Remy, who nodded sagely. 

“Fo’ sure. Betcha anyt'ing dey gonna be even more drunk den you ‘n me, petite.” He chuckled. 

The pair made their tour around the mansion, collecting all willing X-Men to join them for a night of merriment. The final roster ended up being Kurt, Jean, Storm, Rogue, and Scott.

“Since when do you let loose, Summers?”

“Well, someone has to chaperone you and Remy, Melanie.”

“Hey!”

By the time evening came, they were all tucked into a cozy booth at a bar in town. 

“To the latest member of the X-Men,” Storm said, raising her glass in a fond salute. “The nascent Nevermore.”

Melanie laughed, clinking her glass against the others. Her eyes scanned the faces of her comrades, before turning to the other bar patrons. She went quiet, her gears turning.

“Penny for ya t’oughts, petite?” Remy asked, taking a sip of his whiskey. 

“Just thinking,” Melanie said. “About the team. The Professor. What this is all about.” She stared down into her glass. “Back in the city, I used to play a game. I’d sit and people watch, and try to guess if anyone on the street was a mutant. I always felt like I was kidding myself. I mean…I knew other mutant kids, but I never really let myself believe that people outside my world–being a street kid, I mean–would ever really relate to me, mutant or not. But now…” She looked up at him, and then the others. “Now, I think I might’ve been a little too hard on younger me.”

“We’ve all had that moment, one way or another.” Jean said. “I was just a teenager when I came to the school. I’ll never forget it, as long as I live.” 

Melanie shifted in her seat uncomfortably.

Jean looked hurt, and then looked down, fiddling with her glass of wine for a moment. “I know it must seem like we’re worlds apart, Melanie,” She said. “But you gave it a shot. Built a bridge. You should be so proud of yourself.”

For the first time since they’d met, Jean made Melanie smile. 

“Damn right, she should be proud!” Rogue chimed in with a grin. “The gal’s got guts and the brawn to back it up. But above all, sugah,” She placed a gloved hand on Melanie’s shoulder. “Ya got a good heart. And that’s what matters most.” 

“Okay, okay, enough sappy talk!” Melanie laughed. “Thank you, guys. Really. But I came here to get drunk. So let’s drink!”

“Zat’s ze spirit, fraulein! Come, let us eat, drink, and be merry!” Kurt cheered. 

After a few rounds of drinks and some good, greasy bar food, Melanie found herself pleasantly buzzed and leaning against Remy for support. Remy, damn his Cajun alcohol tolerance, was still cool as a cucumber. Melanie, meanwhile, was flushed and more than a little loopy.

“Ya doin’ alrigh’, petite?” Remy asked, happy to hold her up.

“Mhmm…” She murmured softly. “But I think you–hic–win the bet.”

“Heh, I dunno ‘bout dat one, corbeau. Take a lookie over dere at poor Jeannie.”

Melanie sat up a bit, and was treated to a sight of a very drunk, very passed-out Jean Grey draped across Scott, who was happy to let her sleep.

Melanie giggled. “Oh man. Guess next time is on Red!” She looked up at Remy. “Getting late…should probably get home while I can still feel my legs.”

“Mm. Sounds like a plan, petite. Good trick we got ole Scotty as de designated, non?” Remy chuckled, turning to the team leader. “Let’s get dese lightweights back home, hein?”

“Aww, but Kurt and me were just gettin’ started!” Rogue pouted. She too was barely affected by the alcohol. Kurt, by comparison, was much sloppier, his face flushed a dark purple. 

“Scott. I am not nearly as intoxicated. I could remain here with Kurt and Rogue while you and Remy take Jean and Melanie home.” Ororo offered.

“That’d be great, Ororo. Thanks.” Scott stood, hefting Jean into his arms.

“You a real gem, ‘Roro!” Remy said as he helped Melanie up.

“My pleasure. Be safe, my friends.”

It seemed as if Melanie blinked, and she found herself being guided into her room by Remy. Through a drunken haze, while Remy faced the wall out of respect, Melanie showered, changed, and climbed into bed. 

“Good to go, petite?” Remy asked as he turned around.

“Yuuuup.” Melanie said groggily from her bed. “Ready to pass out…”

“Hehe. Well, you need anyt’in’, you jus’ holler, oui?” Remy tucked the blankets around her gently. He paused, his expression shifting for a moment. Like he wanted to do something but held himself back. 

“You okay…?” Melanie asked softly as she hovered between sleeping and waking.

“Oui, ma devinette. Remy jus’ fine.” He smiled at her, but there was something like sadness–or maybe longing–in his eyes. 

“Sleep tight, petite.”

“Night…”

With that, Melanie slipped into a dreamless slumber.

Life as an official X-Man was a whirlwind. Danger Room drills, recon missions, political summits. Melanie tended to avoid that last one. All the screams of people who hated her just for existing was too much. Often, she found herself watching broadcasts of the events on the TV in the lounge, usually with Remy or Logan lingering nearby. 

“These give you a headache yet, kid?” Logan asked with a sarcastic grin one day. 

Melanie slumped in her chair with a sigh. “I’m getting there,” She said. “I don’t know how Scott and the Professor do this.” 

“Why d’you think I stay home? Not worth it. Far as I’m concerned, we don’t gotta prove shit to anyone. They’ll hate us anyway. If you ask me, Chuck’s more than a little naïve.”

Melanie shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah. A little.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “What’s the matter, darlin’? Thought you felt the same.”

“I do,” Melanie said. “But I get the idea. Even if I don’t think the Professor does it right.”

“Right, huh? What would you do, then?”

“A lot of what we are doing.” She laid back. “Rescuing people, helping them get here, protecting other mutants. But the diplomacy shit gets old. There’s only so many press conferences you can do, y’know? If we have allies in Congress, then why dance around all these bigots?” She pointed out. “We could have a boot on their necks, legally. Why are we begging for acceptance? We have the power to take it and keep it. Do it by the book, but we need to quit acting like we can’t be aggressive about it.” 

Logan gave her a smile. “Heh. Alright, A plus, birdy. You pass the test.”

“Test?” Melanie let out a confused laugh. 

Logan nodded, taking a sip of his beer. “Mhm. Lotta people that join up either think the X-Men are a bunch of Boy Scouts, or that we’re a bunch of terrorists and they want in. But you’re on the money. We’re more in the middle.” He sat back. 

“As much as I think Slim is an idealistic idiot, there was somethin’ he said once that’s always stuck with me,” Logan said. “The X-Men aren’t cops, and we aren’t soldiers, in spite of what Chuck or anyone else might have trained us to be. We’re first responders. Get it?”

Melanie thought about it for a moment. “Huh. Yeah, that sounds like Cyke. But I get the point.”

“Then you’re ready for the real shit, kid. You keep that idea in mind, and you’ll be able to handle whatever comes your way.” Logan raised his bottle in recognition. 

“Thanks, Logan.”

“Dat ol’ Wolverine got some wise t’ings t’say sometimes, don’ he?” Remy said as he fell into step beside Melanie, after the broadcast was over.

“Yeah. Kinda nice to have someone to bounce my ideas off of.” Melanie said.

“Mhm. Remy don’ go in for X-Men politics t’much. Causes too much trouble. But he gon’ help people regardless. Remy LeBeau a lot o’ t’ings, petite, but he ain’t wilfully blind.” He chuckled.

“Oh, I know; you’ve got that staring problem.” Melanie teased with a grin.

“Oh, mon corbeau, ya wound me! Remy can’t help it if he like lookin’ at ya lovely face.” He chuckled.

“Yeah, yeah, save it, Cajun.” She laughed. “Go find some other filly to circle around.”

“You ice cold, petite, y’know dat?” 

“You’ll live.” 

They headed up to what was becoming one of their favorite hangout spots, the rec room. Melanie grabbed two pool cues, handing one to Remy. 

“So, question that I can’t believe I haven’t asked you,” Melanie said as she chalked the end of her cue. “I know you were a thief too, I know you’re from New Orleans…so how the hell did you end up here?”

Remy paused for a moment. Melanie frowned when he couldn’t meet her eyes. His hesitation passed as quickly as it had come, and that same easy smile found his face again. 

“Well, petite, dat’s a long story an’ den some,” He chuckled, leaning down to take the first turn. “Ol’ Remy was workin’ a job. Got hired t’steal back some paintin’s. Lo and behold, who should Remy find but Roro; changed into a lil girl by de villain Nanny. Remy decided dere an’ den t’protect her, and we spent some time doin’ more t’ievin’ jobs. ‘Ventually, Roro made her way back here, an’ brought Remy wit’ her.”

“Wow. And I thought things around here didn’t get crazier than Sentinels.” Melanie said, taking her own shot.

Remy laughed. “Dat’s how ya know ya still green, petite.”

Melanie stood, leaning against her cue. She studied his face. Squinted. You can lie to an honest man. But you can’t lie to a liar. 

“So…did you always take jobs?” She pressed, curious. “When I lived in the city, I ran with a crew. We did our own thing. The big leagues were working for guys like Fisk, Lincoln. Or the Guild.”

Remy stiffened at the mention of the Thieves’ Guild, even if it was only the New York branch. Melanie would have to have been blind not to notice. 

He cleared his throat. “Well, mon corbeau, Remy a ramblin’ man,” He said, laughing softly in an attempt to cover his obvious discomfort. “Doin’ t’ings solo’s always been more my style. ‘Til now, dat is. De company is much better dis time ‘round.”

Melanie didn’t smile.

Remy dropped the act, sighing. He straightened, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, petite,” He said softly. “Remy’s past…it ain’t de most pretty. Ah’m sure you know dat, havin’ lived de life yaself.” He stepped closer, looking her in the eyes. “Jus’ know dat even if he like t’wander, Remy an X-Man. An’ he ain’t never gon’ be far from ya side, oui?” 

Melanie softened. “Alright. Fair enough. I can’t ask for all the answers at once.” She picked up her cue again. “C’mon, LeBeau. You’ve got a game to lose.”

“Oho! You t’ink ya gonna win, petite? De game ain’t over yet!” He said with a grin, eager to throw himself into the fray. And to push down the worries he had.

Melanie ended up victorious. Whether or not Remy let her win was a topic of debate that followed them downstairs into the foyer, where they and  others gathered to welcome Scott, Jean, Charles, Ororo, and Hank back after the press conference. 

“Be real with me. How many people were pissed?” She asked Ororo, who sighed.

“There will always be many who hold hatred in their hearts. Thankfully, we had many allies who helped keep things civil.” Ororo explained. 

“Meanin’ a buncha cops holding back angry bigots behind barricades,” Logan chimed in gruffly. 

“Enough, Logan. The point is that we made progress. We were visible.” Scott chided. 

“I agree. People who hate and fear mutants wish for us to vanish. By showing them that we can coexist, and coexist with pride in our gifts, we defy their worst wishes for us.” Charles said sagely. 

“‘Til one of ‘em brings a molotov or a rifle.”

“I said enough, Logan.” 

The words weighed heavy on Melanie. She drummed her fingers against her arm, ruminating. 

Remy nudged her, and gave her a reassuring smile. She smiled back. 

“It gon’ be okay, petite. X-Men stick t’gether, non?”

Melanie nodded. “Right.”

With the debrief over, that left the question of patrol. 

“We just need a pair to do a basic street sweep,” Scott explained. “There’s been a lot of tension in the city lately. Mutants on the street need all the help they can get. We need boots on the ground to get them food, water, and shelter.”

“I’m up for it,” Melanie piped up. “Should’ve been long enough for the heat to die down in the city.”

“Are you sure?” Scott asked, his tone sincere.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I know those streets. I know people. Least I can do is help them.” She said with a nod.

“Dat’s de spirit, petite,” Remy said. “You mind if I go wit’ her, Scotty?”

“Sure, Gambit. You and Melanie can take Brooklyn. Jean and I will take Queens, Piotr and Logan the Bronx, Jubilee and Kurt in Manhattan, and then Rogue and Ororo on Staten Island. Wheels up in thirty.” With that, they dispersed. 

Half an hour later, Melanie was breathing the air of her home borough again. “Hello, Big Apple,” she joked as she stepped off the Blackbird. “I’ve missed you.”

They started out in Ocean Hill, helping people on the street, mutant and human alike. A few people looked askance at Remy’s eyes or batted them away when they didn’t have money to offer, but many more were grateful. Especially their fellow mutants.

They worked their way around the neighborhoods, hitting Weeksville, Bushwick, and Stuyvesant Heights.

Finally, it was time to head to Crown Heights. 

Stepping into the neighborhood felt like stepping back in time for Melanie. She half expected to see phantoms of her younger self flitting in and out of the alleyways like a sprite. 

Many of the people recognized her. She hugged them, traded stories. She found herself brushing off teasing over her clean clothes, and the handsome man who was with her. 

She had just finished giving food, water, and fresh blankets to an older mutant woman when a voice rang out. 

“Melanie?”

She froze. Melanie knew that voice, thick-accented and warm. She turned, eyes widening. 

“Mr. Kang?”

Down the street a bit, pulling his own cart full of food to pass out, was an older man with graying temples and warm brown eyes. He looked shocked to see her. 

Melanie softened, looking almost embarrassed. “Hi, Mr. Kang. Long time no see.”

Mr. Kang quickly excused himself from the homeless man he had been helping, gesturing to the cart to tell him to help himself. “My girl! You’ve gotten so big!” He laughed, pulling her into a hug. “We look for you everywhere! Where did you go?”

Melanie laughed softly. “I made some friends.” She nodded at Remy.

“Aha! Finally got a boyfriend, eh?” Mr. Kang teased.

Melanie went red. “No!” She laughed. 

“Ah, don’t mind her, she’s just shy.” Mr. Kang said to Remy with a wink, who laughed.

“Dat’s news t’me, petite.” Remy chuckled.

Melanie rolled her eyes playfully. “Remy, this is Mr. Kang. Mr. Kang, this is Remy.”

“Enchanté, monsieur. Pleased t’meet ya.” He and Mr. Kang shook hands. 

“Nice to meet you! Almost done with food–you wait here! We talk!” Mr. Kang said, hurrying back to his cart to finish his rounds. 

Soon, the three of them were chatting on the sidewalk.

“You have me and Julie so worried, Melanie,” Mr. Kang said. “You just disappear one day! We almost call the police.” 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Kang,” Melanie said sheepishly. “I got into some trouble. But Remy and my other friends made sure that I was safe.”

Mr. Kang put a light hand on Melanie’s shoulder. “It is good to see you with friends again,” He said, his gaze sympathetic. “It is good that you are safe. You have place to stay?”

Melanie nodded. “Yeah. Up in Westchester.”

“Westchester! Oh, you fancy now!” Mr. Kang laughed. “No wonder you aren’t in Brooklyn anymore! Westchester, daebak!” 

“Yeah, Miss Melanie fit in real well dere. She a part of de family now.” Remy chuckled. 

“You take good care of her now, young man!” Mr. Kang chided playfully. “Melanie will straighten you out if you don’t!” 

Melanie laughed heartily. 

They talked for another hour, catching up, reminiscing, and joking. Mr. Kang assured Remy and Melanie that they would always have a table open for them at the restaurant he and his wife owned. Eventually, time came to say their goodbyes. 

“Bye-bye, Uri Melanie,” Mr. Kang said, patting her hand. “You visit, yes? We have party! I cook tteokbokki for you and your friends. Like when you were little.”

Melanie smiled warmly. “Of course. See you then, Mr. Kang.”

Once their own rounds were done, Melanie tucked into her seat on the Blackbird, lost in thought.

“Penny fo’ ya t’oughts, petite?” Remy asked with a chuckle. “Gee, is it jus’ Remy, or ya gettin’ deja vu?” He joked.

Melanie chuckled. “He used to take care of me. Him and his wife.” Her expression fell a bit. “My friends and I, he’d feed us after rush. He let us sleep in his store once during a blizzard. Dan and Julie do that for everyone in the neighborhood. But I haven’t been back in a while.” 

“How come? If ya don’t mind me askin’.” 

Melanie’s eyes turned distant. “I um…I lost some people close to me. Couldn’t really do anything but steal and drink after. Didn’t want the Kangs to see me like that, you know?”

Remy nodded solemnly. “Mhm.Grief ain’t pretty. Ah’m sorry, petite.”

Melanie smiled at him. “It’s alright. It was a long time ago. I’m just glad I got to see him.”

“Well, if Remy got anythin’ t’say ‘bout it, you’ll be seein’ as much of Mr. Kang as ya want, petite. Ah like de sound of dat party. Hey, t’ink he’d be down for some Cajun-Korean fusion? Some kimchi gumbo sound good, non?”

Melanie laughed. “You’ll have to ask him.”

“Next time, den.” Remy chuckled.

“Yeah.” Melanie leaned against him. 

“Next time.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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Who ordered more angst?

With Gambit's apology hanging heavy over her, Melanie seeks him out to reconcile. Will they set the record straight in the aftermath of Mystique's treachery?

AO3 link here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/69018851/chapters/235356081

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕾𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓: 𝕬 𝕳𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝕯𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒

Warnings: Strong language

Gambit was surprised the next afternoon by a knock on his door. Even more so when he opened the door to find Melanie there, a bowl of ramen in each hand. 

“Join me for lunch?”

“Mais, Gambit never expected you t’go and share wit’ him, petite.” He lifted the chopsticks with a grin.

Melanie chuckled. “Well, there was more than enough to share, so.” She sat back, crossing her arms. “Besides. I had to thank you somehow.”

“Aw, petite, it was a gift,” Gambit said. “Wasn’t no need for dat. Just de fact dat Gambit was able to cheer you up was enough.”

His words made her throat constrict a bit, and she had to swallow thickly.

“About that,” Melanie said, her voice somber. “I wanted to talk to you. About the note, I mean. I really do appreciate what you did, but…” She shook her head at him. “Why in the world would you apologize to me when I was ready to tear you a new one? Shouldn’t you be avoiding me like the plague?”

Gambit blinked a moment, and then he sighed. “Melanie,” The way he said her name felt like a jolt. “If dat had really been Gambit talkin’ to you dat way, actin’ dat way, den he would deserve every ounce of your wrath.” He leaned forward, elbows on the table, to look her in the eye. “Ah can’t deny it, Mel. Ah’m a terrible flirt. Spent plenty of nights in a stranger’s bed, plenty more where I hopped between ‘em like it was nothin’. And ah’d be a damn fool to not t’ink dat you’re beautiful.” 

She could only listen incredulously, unsure of what to say.

“But Gambit don’t never go where he ain’t invited, petite. Never. And you made dat crystal clear when we first met. And while ah might be a bettin’ man, I know losin’ a friend like you is too high stakes. You too good for anyone to lose, mon ami.”

Melanie stared, shell-shocked. She tried to open her mouth to respond, but her jaw simply wouldn't obey her. She blinked a few times, unsure if her eyes were stinging or not.

“Gambit–”

“Remy.” He said gently. “Please. Call me Remy.”

“Remy…” Melanie stared down at the table a moment, her nails digging into her palms. She looked back up at him. “Thank you.” She couldn’t help but laugh a bit. “I think…I think I definitely misjudged you.” 

Remy laughed. “Mais, chère, Remy can’t say he blame ya,” He chuckled. “He a lot to get used to, non?” 

Melanie laughed. “Definitely.” She teased. 

“Well ya don’t have to agree so quick!” Remy took another bite of his ramen. “You one to watch out for, ain’t ya?” 

“Now you’re catching on,” Melanie laughed.

Remy grinned. “An’ he likes dis side ‘o you, petite.”

By the time lunch was finished and the kitchen cleaned up, the tension of yesterday seemed to have melted into nothingness. Instead, a pervasive sense of new understanding had settled over them both like a comfortable blanket.

“Okay, so, fill me in,” Melanie said. “Why did Mystique turn into you? How did she even know that it would trip me up?”

Remy sighed, leaning against the counter. “I don’ t’ink it was quite s’personal, petite, crazy as dat might sound,” He admitted. “See, me ‘n Mystique got some ol’ beef she ain’t never quite let go of. I used to date–well, date might be a strong word for it–Rogue, an’ her mama didn’t like dat one bit.” He sighed. “So, any time she can, Mystique likes t’make Remy seem like he de worst kinda scoundrel out dere, de kind dat can’t be redeemed.”

Melanie scoffed. “Seriously? God, she’s a bitch!” She laughed, incredulous. “She’s lucky I didn’t take her head off.”

“Mhm, I know dat’s right,” Remy nodded sagely. “Ma petite ain’t nothin’ t’mess wit’.” He smiled at her fondly. Remy looked out the window at the sunny afternoon and his smile became a grin.

“Shoo, it’s a real pretty day out. Whaddya sat you an’ Remy go on a lil stroll? Dere’s some real pretty country out dere, right in de back yard.” He suggested. 

Melanie lit up. “That sounds perfect. God knows my pasty ass could use some sun.” She joked. Thus, they made their way outside.

The grounds of the Xavier School were sprawling; many of their friends had set up hammocks or little spots to sit and enjoy the sun. Melanie breathed deep, feeling the warmth sink into her skin. “So nice…”

She stretched, stepping to the side to let her wings out, careful not to hit Remy with them. They were huge, their black feathers flashing iridescent in the sun, tips skyward as Melanie extended them with a contented sound. Remy couldn’t help but stare. 

“Mon dieu…c’est très belle, petite.” He said, awed.

Melanie blushed. “Thanks…I didn’t have a lot of chances to let them out in the city because they’re so big. It’s nice to feel the sun on them again.” One look told Remy it was the truth. Some of the feathers were rumpled and dull, a few missing here and there.

Remy tutted. “Well dat’s no good,” He said. “Be a shame t’not get dem all gussied up again. Dey so beautiful.”

“Stooooop,” Melanie whined playfully, laughing. “You’re gonna give me a complex.”

Remy laughed. “What? It’s de truth, petite! M’bbe ol’ Gambit can find a way t’get dem even prettier.”

“Maybe.”

They walked further, until they hit the treeline that led into the nearby woods.

“Oh, there’s a trail!” Melanie exclaimed, peering down the dirt pathway.

“Mhm. Remy come down here a lot when he need some fresh air,” He said. Remy stepped onto the path, extending a hand to her. “Shall we?”

There was a time Melanie would’ve hesitated. Or even run in the other direction. But this was now.

She took his hand with a smile. “Lead the way, Cajun.”

They walked through the dappled sunlight of the woods, the sound of insects and birds clamoring around them. Melanie looked around in wonder. 

“Can’t get this in the city,” She chuckled. “Central Park, maybe, but that’s it. And I’m not going to Manhattan, anyway.”

Remy chuckled. “Oui, dis here is ‘bout de best place t’get away from it all in dis town.”

They rounded a corner, Remy sure-footed and knowing.

“Where are you taking us?” Melanie asked. 

“Remy know a spot, petite,” He explained. “T’ink ya gonna like it.”

They rounded a bend, and the tunnel of the forest canopy opened into a clearing, bright and sunny. A meadow swayed in the breeze, thick with flowers, a small creek gurgling nearby. Remy had strung a hammock between two trees. 

“Well?”

“Oh, it’s beautiful!” Melanie jogged ahead into the meadow, butterflies taking wing in her wake. She sneezed from the pollen, but smiled. “Thank you for bringing me. This is amazing.”

Remy leaned against a tree, eyes soft. “Pas probleme, petite. What’s Remy’s is yours, non?” 

Melanie giggled. She turned, wings beating slightly in the breeze. Then, setting off at a jog, she flapped her wings hard and took to the air.

Melanie let out a triumphant laugh, circling the clearing. The wind rushed through her hair, tangling it, buffeting against her cheeks. The flight pulled old feathers from her wings, drifting like black snow to the earth.

Below, Remy watched her with a smile. As a feather drifted down, he picked it up, studying it fondly. “Mind if Remy keep dis?” He called up to her.

“Go nuts!” Melanie called back, looking more awake and alive than Remy had ever seen her.

Remy tucked the feather into his pocket. “Merci, petite! Dieu, look at you up dere! You a regular flyin’ ace!”

Melanie laughed, barrel-rolling for him. “One of my many talents!”

With a sweeping bank, Melanie headed down into the clearing. She struck the ground at a run, and Remy was there to catch her. She smiled up at him.

“Not bad, huh?” 

“Not bad? Petite, ya could give Roro a run for ‘er money!” Remy laughed. Once again, his eyes drifted to her wings, and he frowned at the sorry state of them. “But first, we gotta get dese beauties nice ‘n shiny again. I can’t let ya show off without lookin’ ya best!” He took her hand, leading her to the creek.

“O-oh! Remy, you really don’t have to–”

“No, Remy insist! Please, petite, lemme take care ‘a ya.”

Melanie felt her face flush a bit. “Alright.”

She sat down on a blanket Remy had retrieved from the hammock, spreading her wings out just so, so that it would be easier to clean them. Remy produced a kerchief from his pocket and dipped it in the cool, clear water.

“Wish we had some soap out here, but de water will hafta do fo’ now,” He said, sitting behind her. “Dis gon’ be cold, petite.”

Even with the warning, Melanie couldn’t help but gasp when the cold, wet cloth met her feathers. They puffed out in response, before settling back down. It got a laugh out of Remy. 

“Mais, you like a cat dat got spooked, petite!” He joked, scrubbing gently through the sleek black softness of her wings. “Shoo, dese already lookin’ so much better…all dat grime comin’ off jus’ like a dream.”

Melanie hummed in response, the tension in her back loosening as he worked. It felt wonderful.

“Thanks for this,” She said with a smile, still red-faced. “I guess I needed it more than I realized.”

“S’no trouble at all, petite,” Remy said fondly. His fingers deftly plucked old, crumpled feathers away, helping a few stunted ones out of their sheaths. Melanie beat her wings on instinct. 

As she settled them, Remy’s hand was caught under them, and he shifted to move it back. 

“Ah!” Melanie clapped a hand over her mouth, face burning and eyes wide with embarrassment. 

“Petite, are you okay?” Remy asked, instantly worried. “Remy didn’t mean t—”

“N-no, it’s okay,” Melanie said, taking a deep breath. “You didn’t know. The underside of my wings are just…very sensitive.” 

A slight pause as Remy filed that tidbit away. 

Melanie felt her face get redder. 

“Duly noted, petite. Don’ touch ‘em dere. Got it.” He said fondly.

After more careful scrubbing, Melanie’s wings seemingly felt three times lighter. She stood up, extending them, seeing how the sheen of her feathers shone that much brighter in the sun. She beamed.

“Thank you,” She said, turning to Remy.

“Anytime, mon corbeau. Anytime.” He said with a crooked smile. 

By the time they got back to the mansion, it was nearly evening. The day had slipped into that hazy slump before dinner, heat haze glazing the horizon over the trees.

“Whew, I’m ready for a nap now,” Melanie said with a yawn as they made their way back onto the grounds. “That and a shower. It’s hot as hell out.”

Remy grinned mischievously. “You don’ gotta tell Remy dat, petite. He got eyes.” He said with a wink. 

“Oh my god, that was corny.” Melanie laughed, rolling her eyes. “You can do way better than that, Cajun. At least, I hope so.”

Remy’s smile only widened. “Stick around long enough, an’ Remy gonn’ show you alllll his tricks, petite.”

Melanie elbowed him playfully, and he laughed. 

“In your dreams, LeBeau.”

“An’ in ya heart, petite.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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