Disclaimer: Gambit (Remy Lebeau)is the property or Marvel along with one other character mentioned in this story. Grifter (Cole Cash) is
property of Image/Wildstorm Comics. Please do not sue me, I don't have much and I really can't afford to give any up, sides I'm not making
anything off of this.

Notes: Umm... well this is a Challenge to write a Gambit and Grifter story.. I did this in one sitting so I don't know if it's any good but
I'm hoping you like it. And if there's edit mistakes I'm really sorry, I wanted to get this out right away and I tried my best to edit it
without someone's help. Take care and remember I like LOTS of feedback.
=)


Standing Still In Time
Christine Demerath

The darkness of the room wraps around him like a warm blanket. The dim
light of a flickering candle brings little comfort to his mind. The
silhouette of a bed dances on the walls. The shadowy figure within it
was still and frightenly stiff. He had looked forward to seeing his old
friend, but he waited too long and the circumstances made this trip
almost unbearable.

The problem was that his friend had become old over the long years while
he himself only age the equivalent of a few out of the decades they'd
know one another. His brow went down as his frown appeared. His
friends grew old and with the few he had it tore him apart each time.
He can remember his brother's death all those years ago, the pain seems
to have subsided as much as it would be willing to, he guessed it was
better to die fast and young, instead of having to watch your family and
friends do so. That's where his pain lay, watching others die and leave
him. That's why he's here today, to watch another surfer though the
pain of death and the anquish of old age.

His brother's death like so many was one that anger could root from and
blame be given, but with Remy and others like him they simply died of
old age or sickness that ate at them.  He tried to stay away to save
himself pain, but he knew it was wrong so he vowed to be there for them.
He hadn't even been there for his mother's death. But there all that
existed was guilt not being there, for not even knowing of her death
until years after the fact. He was here now, to say good bye.

"Ya just goin` ta stan` dere?" The still form moved slightly with a
dried tiered laughter.

"No," he paused, "just thinking over things."

"Dangerous thing, my friend."

"Yep, just gets ya into all kinds of trouble." He sighed pulling up a
chair and straddling it.

"How' ya know?" His breath wheezed and the sound of pain hissed though
his front teeth. But Cole said nothing about it, he knew it would just
anger the man before him.

"A mutual friend."

"Jeanie?"

"Yeah." A smile played on his lips.

"How she doin`?"

"She's well.. getting old." He frowned before smiling knowingly once
more. "But She's still firery than ever."

"She forced ya into coming didn't she?" The man chuckled as best he
could without causing too much pain within his chest.

"No, but she threatened to kill me if I didn't come." He looks up at
his friend from his hands which were sore from rubbing. "I would have
come either way, Remy." His eyes held the truth of his words and the
pain that coming to this place put him in.

Sad eyes turned to the dying man's friend, Cole. "Ya shouldn't have
come, just more pain to carry on your shoulders."

"You shouldn't have had to go though all this pain either, Remy, you're
a good shit, you deserve better then what you've been dealt." Then
winking he added, "Sides I came all this way, damned if I did it for
nothing." He shot a cocky smile.

Sensitivity was a dangerous thing between two men that had lived a life
of pain and hardships, men that had fought together like these two had
for five strait years, men that there whole life was based on an
aggressive attempt at defense, and at a time like this the images they
cast of themselves were harder to hold up then ever before.

Remy snorted lightly, it seemed slightly from amusement and slightly, to
Cole's surprise, an old man's protest to an action. He didn't see it in
his friend until just now, he was truly old. Oh, he knew it before but
it just seemed so much more real as his eyes bore into Remy. He himself
still hadn't grown the wisdom of life, but he had come to be tiered of
it long ago, what Remy had, came with being old and having time to
think. Cole wouldn't come to that for a long time.

It had been almost nine years since he'd actually seen Remy Lebeau, a
man once known only as Gambit, as he, Cole was known as Grifter.
Probably three since they'd had radio contact after Remy had help and
pulled a few strings helping him out. He'd had to disappear after that
completely. He regrets it know, something had happened in that time and
it destroyed his Cajun friend, but he knew better then to ask.

The silence was short lived. "Miss the old days, don't ya, Cole? Just
you and me, fighting the bad guys, havin` a blast anyway we could. Bar
fights, shootin` practice, everythin`."

The raspy old voice and the ring of too much wanting stabbed Cole in the
chest. He smiled jokingly though.

"Yea, everything, missing the women that broke our hearts."

"Aaa, think positive Cash, you've got a long life ahead of ya, wish I
could be there fightin` with you, but my legs and hands just aren't what
they use to be, eh? It's the only way you'll survive, Cole."

"Sometimes I don't want to."

Remy's eyes hardened at the comment, he was dying but he didn't want to
do so knowing his friend was falling into the trap he did. Cole noticed
the look before Remy changed into a more lighter mood.

"You give up and you'll have a ghost on your tail." His smile was
genuine and for a brief second he seemed like the young, devil-man
character he once was. But his wrinkles of age and disease returned,
the dark rings around his eyes that sunk in were again imprinted, and
Remy's tried cracked lips seem to cry discomfort.

"You couldn't keep up with me." He smiled in good humor.

"Could and then some."

"Never, you sloth."

"I'll get you for dat one."

"If you could ever catch me." Cole Cash lightly smacked Remy on the arm
in a friendly gesture though their laughter, thought memories they were
sharing without speaking out.

Remy began coughing hard and sitting up, he leaned forward holding his
sides, Cole stood and placed his hand on Remy's back and his eyes
plastered on his sick comrade. He coughed for a good four minutes tears
coming to his eyes slightly. As he caught his breath Cole slowly
settled back in his seat but pulled it closer and rested his hand on
Remy's leg.

"You okay?"

"Oui." He hoarsely let out. "Happens sometimes."

"You sure?"

Remy nodded. "Cole look, I've got three days left tops and I know you
can't stay here long. I wasn't sure if I wanted you to come, your still
in a lot of danger, but your here and if we've got ten minutes or ten
hours left to talk I wanna use it. I've missed you old friend and I
need those memories and feelings I've misplaced to finish my life as you
need them and dozens of others to continue yours." Remy took a second
or two to breath as Cole looked up from having his face in his hands.
Remy was defiantly older then Cole at this moment, his tough guy act
melted and the part that few see was out once more. "Help me `member
what it felt like to be young `gain."

And there they talked late into the night, laughing, pulling though the
coughing fits, and blood that came up with them. Knowing what would
happen soon Remy ushered his friend out best he could, explaining that
it would be dark soon and that it would be easier for him to sneak out.
Just before calling for the monk that would send him off, he knew not if
he believed in something or someone more powerful then anything but he
had found refugee here from people out to kill him and comfort in the
words and stories they had told and read to him late at night. They
kept him company for no one was left and his eyesight had been gone for
what seemed an eternity, no matter how short the time actually was, but
as the monk recited prayer, after prayer Remy Lebeau's eyes closed of
one final time.

Fin