X-Men Fan Fiction ❯ Blood is Thicker ❯ Chapter Three ( Chapter 3 )

Blood is Thicker

A X-Men Fanfiction

Written by RogueMoon and Nicole Wagner

Original Idea and collaboration by Nicole Wagner

Posted with Permission of Nicole Wagner

 

Chapter Three

::: :::

Scott wasn't talking to Jean and it was tearing her up inside. He said he understood the decision, that it had to be made. The needs of the team, of Gambit, forced their hand. But he didn't like it and he had pulled into himself, shut her out.

Warren was furious, stalking the halls outside the med bay, waiting for Gambit to wake up. Waiting for a chance to get inside the room and finish the job the Cajun has started. Logan and six metal claws were the only thing keeping him out.

Rogue had flown off when Scott announced what they intended to do, tears streaming from her eyes. Ororo had taken up vigilance at Remy's bedside, occasionally joined by Kurt, who offered prayers to the unconscious man.

The team were all upset about it. But Jean-luc was only Remy's adopted father and had an A Positive blood type. Most of his family had A Positive or A Negative and simply weren't compatible. The rest of Thieve's Guild weren't willing to share their blood type, weren't willing to help the exiled prince.

Excalibur used to have a member with O Positive, but they had disappeared the year before, never to be heard from again. SHIELD was uncooperative, Fury not willing to help unless the X-Men agreed to work directly under them and going to a blood bank would have taken months of red tape to get around.

Sinister was the only option left to them after three frantic days of calling everyone who might have had some pull in getting them access to the necessary blood.

Jean was standing watch with Storm when Remy stirred. They were both holding his hands immediately, smiling down at him as he tried to pull away, sit himself up. He pushed feebly at the fingers encasing his and smirked, “If I get ta wake up ta de Angels every time I get hurt, I might have ta arrange for some tough lovin' more often.”

Ororo sobbed, half in horror and half in relief, “Do not even joke about that, dear heart. You've been unconscious for days now. Do you know how worried we've all been?”

Jean pulled his head against her chest in a fierce hug that Storm joined in on, both of them ignoring Remy's pleas for air for several seconds. When they released him, his grin split his face, “Not dat I don't like snuggling such a fine chest as yours, Madame Rouge, but dis poor boy need some air.”

He started pulling at the wires attached to him, having his hands promptly taken away and held down by two frowning woman, “Come on, now. Feeling fine, me.”

“Feeling fine? By the Goddess, Remy, you lost almost half your blood,” Storm's words were laced with shock and disbelief. “Why did you do it? What did we do to push you so?”

His face hardened and he looked away from them both, eyes cast to the floor and pulling his hands against his chest, “You didn't do anyt'ing. It was just an accident.”

“Don't lie to us, Remy,” Jean interrupted, voice shaking with anger and hurt, “We saw the security tape. Reviewed it for hours. You did it on purpose. You smiled.” She sounded so accusing.

He closed his eyes and ignored them. A sob tore out of Ororo's throat and his eyes opened to look at her, regretful for hurting her so. But she had already turned away, opened the door and ran out of the room. Thunder cracked with enough force to shake the mansion, even two floors below ground. He didn't have the strength to call after her.

Jean's hand brushing hair from his face brought his mind back to the room, she just looked sad. Pity for him in her eyes. That made him angry, he didn't want her pity. He just wanted to be trusted again, a part of the family.

She attempted to smile, but it faded quickly, “You need a blood transfusion. Hank's been working overtime to find a compatible doner. You're both blessed and cursed with one of the rarest blood types on the planet, you know.”

“Cursed is right,” he muttered, looking away as his fingers began picking at the wires.

“Remy... you should know...” She lowered her head and bit her lip, pulling her hands to her chest.

He didn't like that look. That look always meant something bad. His mind went to the worst thing he could think of, “Rogue's okay, isn't she? Not'ing happened ta her while I was out?”

Jean gave a genuine smile and laughed even as tears leaked from her eyes, “No, Remy. Nothing happened to Rogue. She's upset about what happened with you, and is taking it very hard. Believes it's her fault. But nothing's actually happened to her.”

He smiled softly at that, “Good ta hear. So if it's not dat and de world obviously ain't ended, what's got ya so upset?” It was getting harder to keep talking, he was feeling tired again.

Jean opened her mouth and stopped when his eyes drifted shut, “I'll... tell you later. Get some sleep, it can wait.”

::: :::

Most of the team, Warren, Elizabeth and Ororo excluded, were gathered in the largest operating room. Waiting for Sinister to arrive. Hank had been able to contact him with an ease that made any sane person uncomfortable. What that meant was not something any of them wanted to dwell upon.

The room, normally very open and comfortable, felt cramped with so many people standing around. The two long beds laying next to each other at the center didn't help the constraints. But they had to be there, to make sure Sinister didn't try anything while he was there.

They were all suspicious of him. With reason born out of a very muddied history. Hank had explained the situation and he had immediately informed the doctor that his blood type was O Negative and he would be more than happy to offer it for a transfusion, had set up the time and gotten the coordinates for his tesseract system.

That made Hank more nervous. Not only was Essex the same blood type as Remy, he had practically thrown himself at the chance to help. The rest of the team hadn't liked it either, but Gambit needed the transfusion.

Hank was dressed in a lab coat, standing by Remy's bed. The man was still unconscious, not having woken up again in the past six hours since upsetting Storm and talking with Jean. The arrangements for the doctor's arrival had been made before the Cajun came to his senses. McCoy wished they'd been able to tell him what they intended during the brief interlude of lucidity, but luck wasn't always with them.

Ororo stood outside the room, her claustrophobia keeping her from her friend's side, unable to deal with the press of the team around her and the stress of worry for Remy. Warren wasn't allowed in the room because of his disposition towards Gambit and the fact that his power of flight was useless below ground. Elizabeth had opted to join her boyfriend, not actually caring if Remy lived or died and just wanting the drama over and done with so the X-Men could get back to dealing with important matters.

A tesseract opened in the exact spot Beast had given coordinates for and Sinister stepped through, grinning smugly at the sight before him, at the clenched jaws and tightening fists, the anger in the X-Men's collective gaze. Nodding pleasantly to Hank, the portal closed behind him and he strolled over to the prone form of Gambit, “All the necessary preparations have been made then, Doctor McCoy?”

Beast nodded, “They have indeed. All that is left is to draw your blood and begin the procedure.”

Sinister nodded, his body shifting, normal black and red suit melting into his skin and leaving him with a sleeveless black shirt. Pale arms bare as he sat comfortably on the bed next to Gambit, ignoring the rest of the X-Men. They meant nothing to him at the moment.

McCoy washed his hands and then pulled on sterile gloves. He picked up the antiseptic on the tray between the beds and began swabbing Remy's arm. The Cajun moaned slightly, speaking quietly as his eyes fluttered open, “Dat's cold.”

Hank chuckled, “Yes, my Acadian friend, it certainly is.”

“What ya doin' ta me, M'seiur Bete?”

“Preparing your arm for a blood transfusion. It will take a couple hours, with as much blood as you've lost. I do hope you will forgive me for keeping you within these walls for a while longer.”

Gambit shrugged, watching the needle get pushed into his arm. He could see part of the team just past Beast, but the big blue body blocked most of his view, “Ya doin' a demonstration or somet'ing? Don' much like de audience.”

Hank frowned and didn't answer, continuing his work in silence. Remy didn't like that, “Somet'ing de matter, Blue?”

“We... we found a willing doner, Remy,” Beast replied, removing his gloves and throwing them away, putting a new pair on. Then he stepped back, no longer blocking the other table. The other person sitting there. Sinister.

Smiling at him with one eyebrow raised as his son looked at him with growing shock and horror, “You shouldn't be so upset, my boy. I was quite generous and didn't even charge them. No price.”

“Dere's always a price,” Remy growled back, looking desperately around the room, trying to find someone to tell him this was all a bad joke. That it was Mystique playing a game with him. The team couldn't meet his eyes.

He felt like he couldn't breath, hands clutching the bed sheets as his head shook, “Non... No! I don' want dis!”

Hank pressed a firm hand against his chest, “You need a blood transfusion and Doctor Essex has the same blood type-”

“NO!” He screamed and yanked the needle from his arm, pushing himself violently from the bed, blood spraying. “No more devil's blood! I want it out! No more sin in me!” He scrambled across the room before they could catch him, his body shaking as his heart clenched in his chest. He was dizzy. His hands scraped at the metal doors, trying to open them, trying to find something to let the blood out faster.

“The sins of the fathers are passed down to their sons,” Sinister murmured with a sigh, almost too quiet to hear in all the commotion as he stood up and calmly walked across the room to Gambit, pushing Hank aside and lifting the man by the arm, hand purposely closing over the wound the blood was flowing from. Putting pressure on it even as he pulled Remy to his feet and practically dragged him back to the bed.

The Cajun went nearly limp, body spasming slightly as his mouth began to move, gibberish pouring out in a panicked protest. His eyes rolled back in his head, legs becoming dead weight even as he tried to push feebly at the hand holding his arm.

A look of genuine concern overcame Sinister's face as he lifted him more gently, “Doctor McCoy? I believe he's undergoing a stroke.”

“I believe you are correct, Doctor Essex,” Hank replied, helping to lift the man onto the bed, “He needs to be calmed down, he's putting too much stress on his body.”

Gambit's body stilled suddenly as the diamond on Sinister's forehead flared. The doctor glanced over the room and settled his eyes on Jean, “Mrs. Summers, bring me a bandage for Remy's arm.”

Jean didn't question the order as the others pressed themselves back against the wall, wanting to give the doctors as much room as possible. She pulled on a pair of gloves and fell into the familiar role of assistant nurse.

Hank was inspecting Remy's head, “What did you you, Doctor?”

“I shut down his body telepathically. It will keep him from causing himself more damage while we remove the blood clot,” Sinister replied, relinquishing the wounded arm to Jean and moving across the room to wash his hands, prepping for surgery automatically.

“What do you mean, remove the blood clot?” Scott asked, stepping over to Remy's bed and putting himself between Sinister and the X-Man.

Essex didn't even spare him a glance as he looked through the cabinets for the necessary equipment, “A stroke is usually caused by a blood clot forming in the brain. The only way to prevent the most damage is to perform surgery and remove it as quickly as possible.”

“Hank will do the surgery then,” Cyclops crossed his arms, frowning at their enemy. “You can wait outside until its over.”

Essex straightened and turned around, leveling a glare at the X-Man that was as cold as space and equally bereft of any tolerance for the words that had just left the man's mouth. He stepped forward, body flowing into a near liquid state, tendrils of black and red shooting out and wrapping around Cyclops before the man could react, pinning his arms and legs. The so-called fearless leader was dragged back to the doctor, held at eye level. The voice he spoke in was quiet, dead, utterly sincere, “I have enough of your genetic material to last me four decades. I will not hesitate to kill you if you continue this interference. Get out of my operating room.”

He looked at the rest of the X-Men, all of them save Jean and Hank ready for a fight, “The rest of you as well.” Cyclops was dropped to the floor, Sinister's body returning to the clean lines that looked nearly human.

Beast stepped between Scott and Sinister before the man could fire his force blasts, “Scott, please do as he says. Doctor Essex is the best in his field and Jean and I will be here to make sure all he does is help Remy.”

Cyclops stood, hands curling into fists even as Jean touched his mind, all the X-Men's minds, with a plea to cooperate, for Gambit's sake. Scott nodded curtly and left the room, arms crossed as he watched through the window. The others filing out reluctantly behind him.

Sinister had already returned to gathering the necessary equipment.

::: :::

End Chapter