Title: Rough Trade and the Thief

Author: Scorpio (scorpiofic@aol.com)

Website: no site, but all stories are listed at a friend's: http://members.tripod.com/sentinel-cat/Scorpio/

_________________________________________________

 

Rough Trade and the Thief 4

By Scorpio

 

The motorcycle ride through the city streets of New York was hellish. A simple trick had suddenly turned into a living nightmare of desperate fear, smoldering anger and unfair oppression. Ice could only imagine how much worse it must be for Gambit. The tall thin mutant had already lost a lot of blood from the stab wound in his back and the makeshift bandage that Ice made from both of their shirts had only managed to slow down the blood loss, not stop it. On top of all that, Ice was willing to bet his last dollar that the rough vibrations from the rumbling motorcycle engine was sending shooting sparks of intense agony through Gambit's injury.

To make matters worse, the last remnants of the once innocent boy Ice used to be was suffering a moral crisis. His inner Bobby, that quiet soft spoken voice of compassion and hope that lived deep inside his mind was patently horrified over what he had done. He had killed people. Murdered them in cold blood.

Yes, the Bull Dogs were stupid, ignorant thugs who were most likely affiliated with the FOH somehow. They were dangerous, arrogant and rude, but did that give Ice the right to murder them? And they were dead, of that he was positive. Over the years, he had learned enough control over his powers that he could immobilize someone in a sheath of ice without killing them. Yet he had deliberately frozen the gang-members. Solid.

His only excuse was that he had panicked when he watched Gambit go down with a Bull Dog knife stuck in his back. Freaking out like that was something that Ice felt he was too experienced to do, but he *had* freaked. Over Gambit. Ice wasn't sure if it was because he was drawn to the taller man's good looks, whiskey smooth voice and easy laid back style or if it was simply because the other man had revealed himself as a fellow mutant. On the streets and in the gutter of the Big Apple, mutants had to stick together. They didn't *have* anyone else to lean on. Perhaps it was something more personal. After all, when was the last time someone, anyone, had risked their own necks for him? Ice couldn't remember. Gambit could have left him to face the Bull Dogs alone, but he didn't. Unasked, the tall sexy man had stood up to be counted at Ice's side.

And now, because of that, he was slowly bleeding his life away. He wouldn't die though, not if Ice had anything to say about it. Ice refused to let the handsome mutant die for him, nor did he want those Bull Dog gang-members' deaths to be for nothing. And if Gambit died from his stab wound, then those murders were in vain. Ice had too much blood on his hands as it was, he didn't need more deaths on his conscious.

As the landscape around them began to change, Ice pulled himself out of his circular and morbid thoughts. He needed to focus on the next part of their journey and he didn't think that Gambit would be up to helping too much. As it was, the only thing keeping Gambit on the bike was the fact that the man's arms were around Ice's waist where his wrists were tied tightly together.

Pulling into an old abandoned warehouse, Ice drove around some tumbled and broken crates and into the warren of rusty stacks and shelving units towards the back. Screeching to a stop in a far corner, Bobby turned off the motorcycle and began to frantically untie Gambit's hands. Time was of the essence and before he had even managed to get the taller mutant off of the bike, he was yelling for assistance.

"Shadow! Trance! I need help here!"

Carefully manhandling the unconscious mutant off of the motorcycle, Ice didn't see the two small bundles of dirty rags and large eyes peering out at him from the gloom.

"Shadow! Trance! Are you two here at all? I need you!"

The deep gloom around the two small figures rolled back a bit to reveal two dirty street children standing there. The shorter one stepped forward in front of the darker one.

"Hey Ice. What's...um, what's with your friend? He hurt?"

Ice glanced over at the two children and sighed with relief. Street orphans, they had been taken in by the very woman that he had brought Gambit to see. All three of them were obvious mutants and were therefore very leery of venturing out into the streets, so they depended on being able to trade services to those mutants that could pass for human for the necessities of life. The woman that Ice was looking for was known simply as Healer and that's just what she did. She healed.

"Yeah. He's hurt bad and I need to take him to see Healer. She in?"

The smaller child nodded his head and pointed behind him towards the hidden entrance to Healer's lair. The darker child just blinked. He never spoke and Ice didn't even know if he *could* talk.

"Good. Look, could you two hide the bike for me? Make sure no one steels it while I go see if Healer can help my friend?"

The smaller child looked back to the darker one and there was a silent exchange before the smaller child turned back and smiled.

"Shadow will hide it, but he wants a pizza as payment. Deal?"

Ice nodded and began to carry Gambit back towards the entrance to Healer's hideout. He called back over his shoulder to the two children.

"Deal. I'll even get a topping for it. Decide what you want. I'll get it while I go out to get Healer's payment. I'll be back."

Ice didn't bother to watch as a deep dark shadow crept out from the walls and across the floor. He didn't notice when those shadows washed over the Harley Davidson that was Gambit's pride and joy, hiding it from curious eyes that might be looking for anything out of place. Instead, he was dividing his attention between carrying Gambit and navigating his way down dimly lit concrete stairs that descended deep beneath the building and led to a series of underground tunnels which ran under the city.

Those tunnels were the home of those mutants that could never safely venture above ground and into the light of day. Ice had often spent time down there, especially when the weather turned bitter or when he needed to remove himself from the streets for various reasons for a while. They were the closest thing he had to friends in this ugly and ruthless city and he was far from the only mutant street hustler that associated themselves with the Morlocks.

Eventually, the smooth manmade corridors gave way to the rough raw stone of the tunnels. In some places the tunnels were natural and in others there were signs of them being worked and widened by a variety of tools. A single string of electrical wire with the occasional hanging lightbulb ran along the ceiling and the floor was damp. Turning the last corner, Ice called out ahead of him.

"Healer! You home? Got a patient for you. Healer?"

A shuffling sound from up ahead echoed back down the tunnel before a thin stooped woman in ragged second hand clothing appeared around the corner. At one time she might have been considered a rare beauty, but time and events had weathered and aged her harshly. Her blue skin was pale from lack of sunlight and she was stooped from years of living underground. She was thin and withered looking and it was painfully obvious that she didn't eat regularly. Her lips were twisted into a bitter smile and her dark eyes were haunted, but she was always gentle with other mutants. It was humans that held her scorn.

"Ice? Is that you, child?"

Moving as fast as he could without dropping Gambit or bashing him off of the uneven tunnel walls, Ice slid around Healer and moved into her personal lair without even blinking an eye at the lack of invitation.

"Yeah, Healer, it's me. My friend here's been stabbed. Bull Dogs got 'em in the back for the crime of being a mutant. Can you fix him?"

Healer's breath hissed out from between clenched teeth as soon as Ice's words registered in her mind, but she shoved her anger aside quickly and gestured to one of the army issue cots set up against the wall of the small hovel.

"Set him down on Shadow's bed and show me where the wound is. If it's shallow enough and fresh enough, I should be able to help him. If not...I may be able to at least do enough for you to get him to a human healer."

Ice snorted. He didn't think a human doctor would be bothered with Gambit. The man's eyes would identify him as a mutant too easily, besides you could never tell how a mutant would react to human medicine. Healer was Gambit's only hope and they both knew it.

Together they were able to peel off the leather trench coat that Gambit was wearing and then position him on his stomach on the small cot. Once he was settled, Healer gently unwrapped the makeshift bloody bandage and peered at the wound, first with her dark eyes and then she shut her eyes and held one wrinkled hand an inch or two over the wound. Ice wasn't sure how she did what she did, but he knew that it worked. Finally, Healer lowered her hand and looked over at him.

"I can heal him, but he's going to be weak from blood loss for a few days. There's nothing I can do about that."

Ice nodded his head and smiled. That was the best news that he'd heard in a long time.

"Go. Bring me back food, clean water and something to read to the boys. Your friend will most likely still be asleep by the time you return."

Ice nodded his head once more. Reaching out with one hand, he let his fingers run through the dark red silk of Gambit's hair before he stood and turned to go. He allowed himself one single glance back over his shoulder and was rewarded with the sight of Healer holding both of her hands an inch over Gambit's back as she slowly slid down into the trancelike state that meant she was channeling her healing powers. Her hands began to glow a soft pulsing blue.

Satisfied that all would be well, Ice began the trek back up to the surface where Healer's two adopted children were guarding Gambit's motorcycle.

 

Go on to Part5

Go back to Part3