Disclaimer: Gambit, Penance, and related characters belong to Marvel. Anne belongs to me.

A Heart Full of Shadows
By Ascian
mondream@gowebway.com

…If there is a night dark enough
to hide me, hide me,
if there is a light, a hope,
magnificent sun that shines inside me,
give me the joy to live
that is not yet there…

--Lyrics to "Miserere".


The city rose above her, black except for pinpoints of light that twinkled
from the windows of skyscrapers towering from their sites in the business
district. They were located some ten to twenty blocks away, a distance that
barely diminished their size or Penance's wonder that such structures could
exist. This was her third trip back to New York in a month, and the city
still filled her with awe. Of course, it was impossible not to feel a
certain amount of tension, as well. There were so many people in this city,
and crowds still gave her difficulties--she could just imagine the hordes of
people that would be moving about uptown. Christmas shopping no doubt,
despite the fact that it was only the first week of November. Bloomingdales
was already lit with gold lights and beautiful trim.

Penance hadn't been in any of those fancy department stores yet, but she had
seen commercials on television, advertising "the hot gifts of the season".
Her lips curled back in a smile as she remembered what those advertisers
thought made the perfect gift. Crystal vases, scarves and boots,
electronics…Times had been when a hot meal and the presence of her friends
would have been enough. It still was, as far as she was concerned, although
her life was…different now. She shivered, stilling the memories in her
head. Now was not the time to get lost in the past, not when she had so
much to be thankful for. Being in America, having a home and friends,
enough to eat. Not to mention the luxury of going to the city, to New York
of all places!

Penance turned her attention back to her surroundings. Not much sound here
except for her quiet breathing, and the soft chatter of two prostitutes who
leaned against a light post a block down the street. The air, wet and
rain-scented, clung to her flaring nostrils and she lifted her head,
savoring the sensation of a gentle breeze on her cheek. This place was a
graveyard of gutted buildings and broken streets where cars hardly ever
drove anymore. In some ways, it was reminiscent of her old life, which,
despite her memories, gave her an odd sense of comfort. This part of the
city, with its desperate, lonely, hungry air, she could understand.

Penance moved from her concealment and scrabbled down the ill-lit street,
drawing and curling shadows around her body. Swathed in a lightweight black
cloak that Hank had replicated for her, she flew through the abandoned
district, blue eyes sharp. Wind pressed itself into her face, along with
the scent of rotting garbage and sewage. Ahead and to her left, steam
puffed up through manholes, and beyond the roiling mist Penance could make
out a golden pinpoint of flame, and hunched bodies surrounding its warmth.
She carefully avoided the homeless men and women, skirting the edges of
light. She had turned off her image inducer on a whim, not feeling the need
to use it when she could conceal herself so easily. There were more people
in this area though, and her gloved fingers drifted to the small device
belted at her waist.

A boot sole scraped pavement. Penance forgot the image-inducer, and pressed
herself against the crumbled concrete of an aged building. Her body sifted
the shadows around her, until only her eyes glinted softly from the depths
of darkness. Her fingertips dug lightly into the stone of the wall behind
her as she waited. There was a flash of light, a momentary burn that
illuminated a ruggedly handsome face. Penance smelled cigarette smoke.

"You goin' t'give up, petite?"

Penance stifled a grin. She hadn't run out of tricks just yet. She made no
move to let him know he had been heard, and an instant later she shrugged
the shadows from her shoulders and began to race down the street, black
cloak streaming behind her. Gambit flicked away his cigarette, laughing
silently. He knew she wouldn't give up that easily. He waited for two
minutes, counting the seconds in his head, and when they were up he stepped
away from the wall he had been leaning against, eyes bright and searching.

Hide-and-go-seek was what the two of them were playing tonight, except
Penance was supposed to do all the hiding. Next time their roles would be
reversed, but Gambit wanted to make sure she had this most basic of skills.
It was all well and good to be able to fight, but there were times when it
was better to run and hide.

She was getting better at hiding from him, he had to give her that. Between
the Danger Room and these outings into the city, Gambit could see Penance's
skills at stealth improving. Not only that, she was growing more confident,
despite the anxiety he could sense every time they left the Mansion. He
smiled, skirting a pile of broken glass. The potential for disaster--or
whatever she would consider disastrous--loomed above her head whenever she
stepped beyond the protective boundaries set by the presence of the X-Men.
Penance was strong, though. She had proven that to him beyond a doubt, and
these jaunts into the city only made her stronger. Happier, too.

He slid from shadow to shadow, slinking down the street. His eyes glowed
slightly, night vision penetrating the darkness of unlit alleys and debris
littered alcoves. Nothing. Not a whisper of her presence.
Finally out of the corner of his eye he caught movement, and casually
swiveled. Penance--or one of the local tenants--he told himself, confident
he was right. Yet, except for a battered car parked at the side of the road
and bits of trash littering the sidewalk, nothing was there. Gambit
frowned, the hairs on the back of his neck rising. He *had* seen someone.

More movement to his right, but this time Gambit was not so blasé. He swept
into a crouch, trench coat swirling around his legs as he withdrew his bo
staff. The metal rod expanded instantly, smooth surface glinting dully in
the dim light of the street. There--where the shadows moved--

Gambit heaved a sigh of relief, though the tension did not leave his body.
Penance. Just ahead of him, no doubt waiting in the shadows for some hint
that he was still on her trail. It was good to have her in his sights
again, he thought. He made another quick scan of his surroundings, and
seeing no one, slowly eased himself into a standing position and cautiously
made his way down the sidewalk.

Penance stirred slightly as he approached, and he wondered if she sensed
that the game was over. She rose to her feet as he neared, and he caught a
glimpse of one gloved hand escaping from the folds of her cloak to rest
against the stone wall behind her.

The last thing he saw was her face, blue eyes large and full of shock and
numb terror. Something fluttered at the edges of his spatial awareness, and
Penance lunged towards him, mouth open in a silent cry--

She never made it to him.

***

Penance watched Gambit approach her, tensing as she noted his drawn weapon
and the strained set of his mouth. She had felt more worried than pleased
when the thief had not found her, and had retraced her steps. There was
something in the air--a sudden stillness--a preternatural quiet that was not
normal for a city, even for a district as near death as this one. It was
good to be frightened of silence. So she watched with a mixture of
apprehension and relief as he neared her, standing and digging her fingers
into the wall. Surveyed the street for the danger that she felt and saw on
his face.

It came from the shadows. Flowing, pouring from the pools of darkness
gathered against the building and sidewalk--a shift, a step sideways into
reality--to stand directly behind Gambit. Not an It, not--oh, God.

Emplate.

She was in chains again--already she could feel their weight dragging down
on her limbs. The torture was knowing she could cut through them, but she
was weak--too weak to lift her hands and slice through the metal that should
have been as soft as butter to her fingers. And the darkness surrounded her
in the cold, damp room…and he was coming again, hungry…always hungry…

Hungry for Gambit. She could see his hand reaching towards the back of her
friend's neck, and the sight shook her to the core. She felt blind, her
eyes bulging with fear and blurry with stress, but she lunged forward
anyway, hoping to knock Gambit away from the gaping maw of Emplate's
outstretched hand. She saw his eyes widen, the muscles of his shoulders
bunching. She was so close--

She caught only the barest glimpse of the harpoon before it slammed into her
side, and Penance struck the wall beside her with enough force to leave an
imprint in the brick and concrete. She dimly heard the sound of metal
clattering on the sidewalk as pain flooded her chest and ribs--she couldn't
breathe--and her eyes…all she could make out were colors, and something dark
drawing near--looming--

--and Gambit screamed.

The sound wound around her heart, tightening with a twist and yank. Faces
flashed through her mind, images and memories of parents--her mother crying
out, begging, until Penance wished she would stop--that the sounds would
stop. Then they had, and the long silence that echoed in the darkness where
her parents had hidden her was even worse. And Dimitri and Alexi's silence,
their anger and shouts cut short--that had killed her again. Now there was
Gambit...

She struggled to clear her head, fingers digging into the sidewalk.
<Stupid>, she thought, realizing that she still wore her gloves, which
rendered her weapon-less. Could she get them off? She couldn't see
Gambit--her eyes still weren't working properly--and she reached for the
straps that bound
her gloves to her uniform.

"I don't think so, girlie."

A large, black boot stamped down on her wrist, and slowly, methodically,
began to grind her bone into the sidewalk. Penance shut her eyes against
the pain, concentrating instead on Gambit. His screams had stopped, but she
could hear him gasping weakly. <Still alive>, she told herself, repeating
those two words over and over again. She had to get to him.

A new voice emerged from her right, low and angry. "Emplate, ya dumb fuck.
We need him alive!"

The man pinning Penance's wrist chuckled darkly. "No Gambit, no girl.
That's the deal, tube-face."

Penance twisted her head, her cheek pressed against the concrete. She
couldn't see the face of the man holding her down, nor could she make out
the one who had berated Emplate, though anyone who would do that was either
crazy or very, very dangerous. Penance's eyes flickered to Gambit. He lay
sprawled on the sidewalk, his face turned away from her. Emplate hovered
over him, hand still latched on the back of the man's neck. Swathed in
black, breathing tube hanging from his face, he was exactly as she
remembered. Emplate caught her looking at him, and they matched gazes.
For a brief moment, his eyes glowed red, and then he turned away from her to
look up at the men.

"You can tell Sinister that the deal is off."

Penance heard a sharp intake of breath from the man above her, and a low
growl emerged from the shadows to her right. The pressure suddenly
disappeared from her wrist, but Penance remained very still, hoping that the
man would take another step away from her. She'd act if she had to, but she
didn't have much room.

Emplate slowly stood, breathing tube swaying slightly against his black
robes. He held playing cards in his hand. Once again, a red glow flickered
to life in his eyes. Penance froze, eyes locked on her ex-captor. She
could see it in his face, the way the gray tones of his skin had lightened.
These two men were stupid--or too cocky. They had let Emplate feed on
Gambit for too long. They weren't just facing an energy vampire any longer.

The man nearest her took another step away, and this time Penance looked up
at his back. A brace of knives and several short harpoons hung from his
broad shoulders. He reached for one, and the metal began to glow with a
silver light the instant his fingers touched the smooth, metallic surface.
She heard another growl, and watched as his companion stepped from the
shadows. A tremor run through her body as she recognized the hard, chiseled
face framed by a wild cuff of blond fur.

Sabretooth unclenched his fists, claws glinting dangerously in the faint
light of the street. "Sinister thought you'd double-cross us, 'Plate," he
rasped. "Can't say I'm sorry. Just gives me an excuse ta gut ya."

Emplate lifted his shoulders, and stepped over Gambit's inert body. "I do
not believe that you will find me so easy to defeat," he said imperiously.

Sabretooth sneered, flexing his fingers. "Hear that, Harpoon? He thinks
he's gonna walk all over us."

Harpoon chuckled, hefting his weapon and taking another step away from
Penance. There was little warning, just a moment's look that passed between
himself and Sabretooth. A heartbeat later, Harpoon flicked his wrist and
sent his charged weapon hurtling towards Emplate. Penance watched,
unmoving. She could not help herself, even though she knew she should take
the distraction offered her. The harpoon whistled through the air straight
towards Emplate's head. At the last possible moment, he calmly sidestepped
the oncoming weapon, energy flaring sun-hot from the cards in his hand.
Even as the harpoon clattered harmlessly on the street behind him, Emplate
drew back his arm and released the charged cards in a scattered pattern
aimed at the feet of the two Marauders. Not killing blows, Penance knew.
No, Emplate would want them alive, stunned. Ripe for feeding.

This time, Penance did not hesitate. Head swimming with pain--she numbly
noted the harpoon on the ground beside her--she clambered to her feet,
flinging herself towards Gambit. The others ignored her, Emplate having
moved well away into the middle of the street. Sabretooth howled with fury,
but Penance did not look at him. She kept her attention focused on the
unconscious man lying on the sidewalk, bo staff at his side. His chest still
rose and fell, but his face was a deathly shade of pale. Penance crouched
beside him, and grabbed his left arm. Yanking sharply, feeling the muscles
in her back pull and groan, she heaved him up high enough for her to shove
her shoulder under his arm. Her chest screamed with pain.

She could not straighten her body with Gambit's dead weight pulling down her
right side, so she began to shuffle down the street, bent at the waist.
Step by step, she moved them away from the battle. She didn't try to look
behind, to see how Sabretooth and Harpoon were faring against Emplate. She
didn't care. Only one side would win, and both promised death and
pain. She had to get herself and Gambit away, as fast as possible. Eyes
wide, instincts screaming for her to drop her burden and run, Penance
finally
reached the street corner and rounded it. The sounds of battle instantly
dimmed.
She could still hear mingled shouts and explosions, but she felt somewhat
comforted by the now muffled noise. It meant that their departure hadn't
yet been noticed.

But that would not last for long.

Still shuffling down the street, Penance cast wildly for ideas on where to
hide. The trouble was that Sabretooth could track them--if he won, that
is--but so could Emplate. It was too much to hope that Harpoon would be
the only one left standing. Penance tightened her grip around Gambit's
waist, the muscles in her arm screaming in protest. She thought she heard
him groan, but the sound was faint, just a flutter of breath between his
lips. She forced herself to step faster. From the corner of her eye, she
caught sight of a thick cloud of rising steam. The source was a long grate
just beyond the mouth of an alley. Penance stumbled over to it, and
carefully lay Gambit on the ground. She stole a quick glance at his face,
gently resting one gloved finger on his cheek. He looked so pale, his
cheeks gaunt as though he suffered from some terrible hunger.

Penance swallowed her worry, grappling for the grill. Pain flared in her
ribs, and she sucked in her breath. Trying to ignore the embracing agony,
she pulled at the iron bars. It took several tries before they budged, and
in that time, Penance noted with no small amount of terror that she could no
longer hear the battle between Emplate and the Marauders. With an extra
surge of adrenaline, she yanked the cover off the steaming hole, and pushed
it to one side. Grabbing Gambit under the arms, she dragged him to the
edge. <Not a long drop>, she told herself, staring down into the misty
darkness. <I think.>

Well, there was no time to worry. Movements clumsy, Penance lay on her
stomach and grabbed tight hold of Gambit's wrists. With several sharp
heaves, she pulled him into the hole, his weight almost taking her over the
edge. She managed to hold on though, and lowered his limp body feet first.
When she had extended her arms as far as she could, she let him go. An
instant later, she heard a soft thump. Wasting no time, Penance lowered
herself in after him. The fall was remarkably short, and she landed in a
soft crouch, her feet splashing smelly water. Her eyes easily adjusted to
the darkness, and Penance scrambled to Gambit's side and once again shoved
his arm over her shoulder. Moving in the opposite direction of the moving
water, Penance headed up the tunnel. The smells were overwhelming here, and
she could hear things moving all around her. Rats. Nothing to be afraid
of.

Finally, she found was she was looking for. A small, narrow shelf, tucked
off the main tunnel. The water was deeper here, and Penance unceremoniously
dropped Gambit into the foul smelling run-off and sewage, coating everything
but his face, and then doing that part of his body with her gloved fingers.
She did not know if this would help to hide his scent, but it was worth a
try. She dragged him the final few feet to the concrete shelf, and shoved
him onto it. As his weight left her shoulders, Penance felt her knees begin
to give. Before she could lose it completely, she took one final look at
her friend's face. Closing her eyes against the pain, she touched his
cheek. So many friends lost--sometimes it seemed she had spent her entire
life alone, with just brief intervals of happiness, always stolen away the
moment she believed they were real. Penance shook herself, and backed away
from Gambit's hiding place. She couldn't stay here; it was too dangerous
for him. Emplate would find her no matter where she hid, and the others
would find Gambit if she didn't do something about it.

Shucking off her gloves, Penance tucked them into her belt. She flexed her
fingers and with a practiced swipe, cut the laces of her shoes and stepped
out of them. Toes cutting into the concrete of the sewer, she began to run
back the way she had come--back towards the surface.

***

Gambit felt Penance touch his cheek, and he wanted to call out to her as he
heard her back away. His throat wouldn't work though, and no matter how
much he willed them to, his lips would not part for the one word that would
bring her back. It was too dangerous up there! Too dangerous without
someone to watch her back. There was a good reason, he realized suddenly,
why he had always preferred to work alone and without a partner. No one to
worry about but himself. Gambit didn't know how Wolverine stood it,
bringing Jubilee along on his "solo" missions. Just a petite belle, thrust
into the midst of psychopaths. But he knew that the two of them wouldn't
have it any other way, and he realized that he was quickly beginning to feel
the same about Penance.

<Who else was up d'ere?> He asked himself, struggling to sit up. His body
resisted, and a low groan escaped through his clenched teeth. <An' what hit
me? *Merde!* I need t'get out of here!>

But he was still lying on the concrete shelf when, on the surface, Penance
met up with Sabretooth.

***

She pulled the grate back into place, and with a quick glance to make sure
she had eliminated any glaring signs of their passage, took off towards the
place where Emplate and the Marauders had first found them, and where,
hopefully, they would still be fighting. As she approached though, it was
obvious that the battle had stopped. No shouts and cries of fury and pain,
no explosions or bursts of bright light. And as she rounded the street
corner that hid the scene from sight, she was faced with an empty darkness.

Well, not so empty. Penance approached cautiously, but did not try to hide
herself. She *wanted* to be seen, just not taken off guard. There,
surrounded by rubble from gouged craters in the road, lay Harpoon.
Penance stopped only a few feet away from his still body. He was dead. His
eyes stared unblinking at the sky, and the left side of his body had been
blown away. The smell of blood was overpowering, and raised too many
memories for Penance's taste. She backed quickly away, stifling the
familiar images of her childhood and shook the sight of Harpoon's body from
her mind.

"Come back for more, frail?"

Penance whirled, heart hammering in her throat. Sabretooth stood behind
her, thick arms folded across his massive chest. His body was covered in
blood, but he stood straight, with not a sign of injury. He watched her
without blinking--like a cat--and a small, mocking smile pulled at the
corner of his mouth.

"Smart, taking the Cajun away like ya did. O' course, I coulda found ya
both, but I think ya knew that. Came back to lead me in circles, thinkin'
I'd follow and forget the swamp rat." Sabretooth shook his head, eyes
narrowing into slits. His arms dropped to his sides. "Well," he hissed.
"I ain't in the mood for playing right now, so ya better tell me where ya
stashed him. An' then maybe, I'll kill ya fast. As a reward."

Not able to give a reply, Penance simply stood and stared at him.
Sabretooth's face darkened, and with a snarl of rage, he launched himself at
her. As fast as he was, Penance still managed to throw herself to the side,
but not before he landed a swipe along her thigh. His claws did not break
her skin, but the contact rattled her. Still, she forced herself to pivot
on her heel and before the Marauder could turn, she launched herself at him,
springing off the ground. She had to end this quickly.

Penance landed on Sabretooth's back, arms wrapping around his neck. His
bellow of surprise quickly turned to pain as her bare feet sliced through
his hips and upper thighs. Her big toe hit a bone and caught. He howled,
back arching. Penance slashed at his face, digging her thumbs into
his eye sockets, and he screamed as her fingernails pierced his eyelids,
cutting through the soft tissue of his eyeballs. He thrashed wildly, and
Penance tightened her grip around his head and shoulders. He tried to claw
her off, reaching blindly behind him, but all his hands could close on was
her hair, and Penance jerked her head sharply. His screams reverberated in
her ears, and he tore his hands away. White bone peeked through the torn
flesh.

She could already see parts of his face knitting back together, and Penance
swallowed her revulsion and merely worked harder at bringing Sabretooth
down. His body finally gave out, and the man staggered to his knees, and
then fell flat on his stomach. His face crashed into the concrete with a
sickening crack.

Penance fell off of him immediately, rolling away. Her breath came in
great, rolling gasps that seared her lungs. Her eyes burned. She couldn't
stop staring at him, at the great pulp of flesh and fur that still moved
weakly. She had done that. She had--she had---

And a part of her felt good.

But it was a very small part, and Penance pushed it away. She'd done what
she'd come to do--take Sabretooth out of the action. The Marauder was
wrong--she had never intended to run. She had come to fight. Fight to win,
and she had. She had just never imagined...

Shaking, Penance stumbled to her feet. Emplate was still out there. It was
possible that Sabretooth had managed to seriously injure him, but she
doubted it. She certainly didn't believe he had been killed. With a
backward glance at Sabretooth, whose wounds were already beginning to knit
together, she ran down the street back to where she had hidden Gambit. She
knew that she should not return to him, but she couldn't help herself.
<It's to make sure that Emplate hasn't found him>, a voice reasoned.
Penance could not deceive herself, though. She needed to be with her
friend, to be
convinced that he was still alive and that what she had just done hadn't
been in vain. That she hadn't just sold a part of her humanity for no good
reason at all. And keeping Gambit safe was a good reason. She had failed
everyone else in her life. She was not going to let him down.

***

His eyes were open by the time she got back. Emplate was no where in sight,
and Penance had a sudden feeling that he would not return. At least, not
for a little while. Perhaps, she reasoned hopefully, Sabretooth and Harpoon
had managed to really hurt him.

"Petite," Gambit began, relief shining on his face. As she approached him
though, his face clouded with uncertainty. "You're covered in blood."

Penance swallowed heavily, tucking away the bad memory like she did all of
the others. Folding them into a small, dark space in her mind where they
occasionally gathered in her heart, fluttering like shadows. In answer to
Gambit's unspoken question, she shrugged and reached towards the concrete
wall beside him, scratching out an explanation.

--fought sabretooth--

Gambit's face began to pale at the first three letters of the Marauder's
name, and he turned deathly white when he read and reread her complete
message.

"You won," he stated flatly, after a long moment. Penance nodded. Gambit
licked his dry, cracked lips, and Penance could see his mind working
furiously. Finally though, he met her eyes, and his gaze was a mixture of
worry, sympathy, and fierce pride. "You done good, petite." He hesitated,
and she knew he was taking stock of her blood soaked clothing. "Couldn' been
easy," he continued softly. "You ever need t'talk...Gambit'll listen."

Penance's lips trembled as she smiled, and she carefully sat down beside her
friend. The sounds and smells of the sewer rose up around them, and they
remained still for a long time, surrounded by darkness. It was enough to
hide
from the world for a little bit, lost underground. It was more than enough,
after this night.

***