WARNING: This section deals with some rough subject matter and contains adult language and concepts. It should not be read by anyone who is squeemish about such things.

The Narrow Walk

By JF Jackson

Part Fifteen

Rhiannon, wake up!

The voice cut into her mind, pulling her from her sleep state. No, don't wanna get up.

Rhiannon, wake up now!

 The voice was angry now, angrier than she ever heard before. She opened her eyes, looking around. The night was almost over, the grey of a new dawn hanging in the air. She and Remy were still outside. She was lying on top of him; their clothes scattered about the area. She blinked, several times, trying to fight off the sleep. What's wrong, Stealth?

It's almost dawn, you have to get him into the house, and you have to get him inside now!

Oh, what difference does it... she began, then stopped. Memories of what happened earlier into the night flooded her mind. Oh, shit.

That about sums up the situation. Now get up.

She rolled off Remy and stumbled to her feet. "Sweet spirits, what have I done," she whispered.

Stealth glared at her. You fucked up big time.

She ignored him and bent over Remy. "Wake up, wake up, love."

"Go 'way," Remy mumbled, rolling over.

Dawnsleep. Stealth commented. That with the change is acting like a drug with him. Get his clothes.

"I'm not going to leave him here!" Rhiannon said.

Oh, like you care so much, Stealth's mental voice snapped. He walked over and knelt beside Remy, scooping him up into his arms. Now get the fucking clothes and get into the goddamned cabin, now.

"Stealth, please don't be mad," she pleaded, "It was an accident!"

I don't have time to discuss this with you now. Get the clothes, get into the cabin, we'll talk tonight. He turned away, carrying Remy to the cabin.

She gathered up their clothes, tears spilling down her face and walked into the cabin. As she entered, Stealth leaped down from the loft, landing on the floor. She dropped the clothes on a chair, looking at him. She had never seen him so upset. "Please, Stealth, don't be this way."

Oh? And how should I be? Delighted? I've gone three hundred years without making a childe. You lost control in one night.

I didn't know it was going to happen! she protested. I didn't think it could happen! We got carried away!

He walked over and stood in front of her, raising his hand as if to strike her. She cringed as his hand flew through the air, stopping less than an inch before her face. And if I got carried away right now and hit you, would that make it all right? Would it stop the pain?

"No," she whispered.

He nodded, lowering his hand to his side. I have to go. We'll talk later.

"Stealth, you'll have to help me with him!" she said, "I-I don't know if I'm ready for this."

Should have thought of that before you recreated him in your own image, little goddess. He walked out the door, slamming it behind him.

 His head hurt.

It did more than hurt, actually. It felt like his brain had suddenly swollen up and was now trying to break free of his skull.

If that was not enough, his upper jaw ached, his eyes felt as if they were on fire, and his stomach was rolling, feeling as if his guts were twisting into a knot. He was freezing too, the cold felt as if it had settled into his bones forever. The only time he could ever remember feeling even remotely as bad as this was one time when he was seventeen and on a dare, played Jack Daniels freeway and ended up consuming two bottles. This was worse though.

Other than that, things were just swell.

Remy opened his eyes, feeling the glare of the sunlight through the roof window coming through, feeling as if it was burning. Immediately, he closed them again, screaming. "What de hell!"

It's-all-right.

The voice cut into his mind, which did not help his headache, any. I'm-scared!

I-know-you-are.

Help-me, -Rhiannon, -I-feel-so-cold...

I-know.

She wrapped her arms around him, drawing him close. "I'm so sorry about this, Remy. It's all my fault."

He wrapped his arms around her, shivering violently. Whatthehellisgoingonhere?

You're-becoming.

Make-it-stop!

I-can't! -All-I-can-do-is-try-to-help-with-the-pain!

Makeitstopmakeitstopmakeitstop!

"Remy, listen to me. I can't stop it, I can only try to help you through it!"

Her voice cut into him like a knife. "You did dis to me!" he wailed.

"Yes," she said softly.

Later, he would realize that it was not all her fault, that he needed to share the blame as well, but right now it did not matter. What did matter was that he felt like he was dying. Accurate, perhaps. Half of him was. "Do somet'in' Rhiannon," he whispered. Later, he would also feel ashamed for having acted like such a baby, but later was not now.

Do-you-still-trust-me?

Do-I-have-a-choice?

She reached over to the bedside table and grabbed a glass she had put there earlier. "Drink this," she whispered, putting the glass up to his lips.

The smell hit his nose. Thick, like copper and salt. His stomach lurched for a moment, and he thought he would rather die than drink this. Then something else seemed to kick in, and he grabbed the glass, chugging down the contents. For a brief moment, he thought he would puke it up again, then it seemed to settle down. A feeling of warmth started spreading from the pit of his stomach and through his entire body. He dropped the glass on the bed, where a few remaining drops spilled out, staining the quilt deep crimson. "Blood!"

"What did you think it was, cherry Kool-aide?"

He drew away from her, staring at her. "I'm like you."

She nodded.

"I wanted to bond wit' you, not become like you!"

"I know," she whispered. "I-I'm sorry, Remy."

The pain was beginning to subside as his body adjusted to this state. The blood had helped; he was beginning to feel warmer. Briefly, he wondered where Rhiannon had gotten it from, but dismissed it. There were bigger things at stake now. "Sorry?" he repeated. "You sorry?"

She nodded, looking miserable.

"What de hell 'appened?" There was a small part of him that was aware he was behaving like a jerk, but he could not help himself. He was furious. He did not want this, he did not ask for this. He felt as if he had been violated on the deepest level. His entire self had been changed.

"We-we got carried away," she said, tears spilling down her cheeks.

"We?" he roared. "We got carried away? I t'ought you knew what you were doin'!"

"I-I thought I did," she said, refusing to look at him. Her shoulders were slumped over and she looked like she wished to disappear into nothing. "I-I don't know what happened. It-it was like something just took...control."

He said nothing, just glared at her, as if expecting her to say something, the right thing, that would either change everything back to the way it was, or at least justify what happened. She finally looked up at him, face streaked with blood tears. "I didn't think I could make anyone like me! I told you, as far as I know, and even as far as Stealth knows, I am the only person to ever be turned into what I am! I thought that no matter what happened, the worst I could do was bond you, not change you!"

"But did you know dis for fact?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No, not for fact. But Stealth always thought there was something very strange about me, something in my...genetic makeup that allowed this half-vampire state to happen to me. I never dreamed it could happen to anyone else, never mind you!"

"Yeah, but less you knew for fact, you shouldn' have messed around." He rose from the bed, looking for his clothes. They were lying on a chair. He grabbed his jeans and started pulling them on.

"Remy, you asked me to bond you. I had no clue we would get carried away like that!" GodI'msosorrylove! She rose from the bed, going over to him. "Please, I'm sorry, let me help you." She grabbed his arm.

He pulled away. "Don' you touch me!" he snarled. Part of his mind chastised him for his behavior. He was acting totally out of control, but this frightened the hell out of him. Who am I now? What am I?

You're-Remy-LeBeau, -you're-still-Gambit. -You're-still-you!

He moved away from her, grabbing his shirt. "Get out o' my head, Rhiannon! I don' want you there no more!" He took his jacket, folding them over his arm and grabbed his boots.

"Damn it, you can't just leave!" Rhiannon cried. "This is a whole new thing for you, I have to help you."

"I don' need your help!" he said, backing towards the ladder. "An' I don' want your help."

"You can't say that, you have no idea what you're in for, what to expect!" Rhiannon said, still moving towards him.

"Yeah, you didn' know either, but you managed." His eyes narrowed. "At least I know what I am. I don' need no teacher, Rhiannon, an' I really don' need you!" He was right at the edge of the loft. Without thinking, he turned and jumped down. He landed easily and gracefully on the floor below. Before Rhiannon could jump down herself, he sprinted for the door, slamming it behind him.

"At least put on your jacket!" she shouted.

Outside, the sun almost blinded him. He cringed, running from the clearing in front of the house to the side, where his bike was, where the trees were. Quickly, he finished dressing. His hands seemed to be moving faster now. Part of de damned change! he thought. Super speed. Jus' what I need.

Please-don't-go!

He leaped on the bike, starting it. The anger, the fear had turned itself into a bright red ball that seemed to float just beyond his eyes. It was all he could concentrate on. "Fuck you!" he screamed, both out loud and through the bond. Twisting the accelerator, he drove away.

Inside the cabin, Rhiannon fell to her knees, sobbing. What have I done? What the hell am I going to do? She tried to reach him through the bond, but he had shut it off. His anger had given him some sort of control over this. Wrapping her arms around herself, she cried long and hard.

When he got back to the mansion, Remy's rage had subsided into something cold and scary. He had no idea what he was going to do what he could do about this. Part of his mind refused to believe this was happening. Not to him. He could not be part vampire. That was a plot for a bad movie.

You gonna sleep wit' de devil, you 'ave to pay de price, part of him reminded himself. You knew what Rhiannon was, yet you let yourself get caught up in it. You blame her, you 'ave to blame yourself too.

He snapped that part of himself off quickly. Later, he would have plenty of time to reflect on all of this, but not now. He did not want to take any responsibility for what had happened. He wanted to blame someone and Rhiannon was the easiest person to blame. If he started taking any responsibility for last night, then he would have to admit to himself that part of him asked for this. That when they were lying on the ground, both drinking each other's blood, that his mind wanted this to happen, wanted to see how far they could go. It wasn' you, it was what Rhiannon was makin' you.

Sometimes it was too easy to justify all his faults on to someone else. In this case, Rhiannon.

He stormed into the house, not knowing quite what to expect. The headache was coming back, not as strong, but annoying enough. His brain was trying to sort through all of this, make sense of it all, find the solution. It had to be there, if he looked hard enough, he would find it.

He walked into the living room. Several members of the team were there, obviously just hanging around and talking. Unfortunately, talking was the last thing he felt like doing at this moment. He started to head towards the kitchen, when Bobby came out, eating an apple. "Wow, you don't look happy!" he quipped.

Remy stared at him, about ready to suggest Bobby mind his own business, when something inside him rose and forced him to stop. It was as if he was looking at Bobby in an entirely new light. Part of him wanted to reach out and hug the man, to tell him he was so very sorry for everything. Sorry for what? "Oui," he muttered, instead. "I've 'ad a very bad night."

Someone came behind him and put his hand on his shoulder. "Gambit, what's wrong?"

He whirled around, seeing Scott looking at him with a concerned expression. Or at least it seemed concerned. With those glasses covering his eyes, it was hard to tell with Scott sometimes. "I-I-" he began, then stopped. Something was flashing in his mind and flashing brightly, like someone had just decided to fire a strobe light into his head.

"Gambit, are you all right?" Scott asked, looking concerned. "You look sick!" He took Remy's arm gently. "You'd better sit down."

Remy started to allow himself to be lead. Then the flashing in his brain began shifting, forming itself into memories. He stared at Scott, suddenly seeing the man in his mind, naked; his hands running over Remy's... No! part of him screamed. That isn't you, you're a man. Those are Rhiannon's memories you're seeing! When you bonded with her, you got her memories! He pulled away from Scott, staring at the man with utter loathing. "You bastard!"

"Remy, what in the world are you talking about?" Scott asked, looking startled. Other people had started to gather around them.

Remy suddenly lunged for Scott, wanting to wrap his hands around his throat. Logan grabbed him, wrapping his arms up over his shoulders, stopping him and his arms from moving. "Leggo!" he hollered.

"I don't think so, Gumbo," Wolverine growled in his ear.

"Gambit, what is going on?" Scott said, trying to put on his best "leader" voice, his sternest "leader" personality. "You're acting crazy."

Remy ignored the words and with all his strength, lunged his body forward, tossing Logan over his shoulders, onto the floor. Logan rolled to his feet. "What the hell?" he snapped, half pissed off, half amazed. That move had gone far beyond Remy's normal strength and agility. Either he's got so much adrenaline pumping through him, that's he's a powerhouse, or he's changed since last night! A cold thread of suspicion began worming its way into his mind as to what this change could be.

"You fucked her!" Remy screamed at Scott, his eyes suddenly shifting, the onyx seeming to disappear in a pool of red, as if his pupils suddenly dilated to the point where they covered the entire surface of his eyes. "You goddamned sonofabitch, you fucked her!"

Scott stared at him, the color draining from his face. "I-I-" he began.

"Remy, what are you talking about?" Warren shouted, trying to cut through all this confusion. It was obvious that something had Remy in an uproar, but until they knew what it was, they could not help him.

"Him!" Remy shouted, advancing towards Scott again. "That goddamned bastard an' Rhiannon!"

Jean came running in the room, looking about frantically. When she saw what was going on, she dashed over to her husband, standing in front of Remy, blocking him.

"Move, Jean," Remy said, his eyes narrowing. "Move now."

"No!" Jean cried. "You're completely out of control, Remy! I will not let you attack my husband!"

"Your husband?" Remy stopped, staring at Jean with a smirk on his face. "Oh, dat's right, he your husband. Field leader of de X-Men an' practically a saint to all of us. So, why de hell was he fucking Rhiannon?"

"What?" Logan shouted.

Remy looked over at him and nodded. "You heard me. Dat bastard fucked Rhiannon! Dat's why he got rid of her, cause he couldn't handle de guilt of having sex with a minor. She was sixteen! It weren't her attitude; it weren't her makin' jokes all de time. It was cause he fucked her an' he couldn't handle de goddamned guilt!"

"Is that what she told you?" Scott said, crossing his arms over his chest. He was trying to look calm, but some of the color was draining from his face.

"Non, she din' tell me, I saw!" Remy snarled.

"You saw?" Logan repeated.

Remy nodded. "I've seen her mind. I have her memories, as well as my own up here, or most of em' at least." He tapped his head. "I saw what 'appened. I saw it all, an' you fucked her!"

Jean whirled around and looked at Scott. "Is this true?" she asked, her own face growing pale.

"Jean, are you going to believe him?" Scott asked, looking at his wife.

"Just answer the question!" Jean demanded.

Scott shook his head. "I don't have to answer that."

"Because you know de answer!" Remy snapped. "You know you did. She came in your room one night, cause she heard you cryin'. She wan'ed to comfort you, an' you ended up screwin' her! You put aside your goddamned eternal mourning for Phoenix, long enough' t'slip it int' her."

Jean stared at her husband, eyes widening. "Oh my God," she whispered. "It's true. It's all true. You did do it!"

"She seduced me!" Scott screamed. He was beginning to tremble, his skin taking on a sickly pale color, two bright red blotches on his cheeks. "I swear, Red. I never meant for it to happen. I-I thought you were dead! I was all screwed up, I admit it. She came into my room one night, wearing practically nothing and... and...."

"An' you looked at the hair, an you tried to fool you'self dat it was Jean, jus' for dat night," Remy finished for him. "You even call out her name while you were screwin' Rhiannon."

Logan's eyes narrowed. "I always suspected there was a lot more goin' on' between you an' Rhiannon than met the eye. You've done some pretty shitty things in your life, Summers, but this 'bout takes the cake."

"You're just going to take her side?" Scott shouted, backing of slowly, looking from one person to the next, searching for a sympathetic face. "You weren't there, all you're hearing is his, Rhiannon's side of it."

Jean continued to stare at him. You blocked it for years, but it's all coming to the surface now. You did do it.

Red, you have to listen to me, it's not all what you think! Scott stared at her, his eyes wide with panic under the visor.

Tears started spilling from Jean's eyes. She turned and ran from the room. Scott started to go after her, but Remy lunged him again, this time connecting, smashing him in to the wall. "Not so fast, Summer!" he growled, pressing his hands to Scott's throat. "De conversation ain' over."

"Remy, don't do this. I can hurt you," Scott gasped, reaching for the visor.

Remy grabbed the hand that was reaching and smashed it into the wall then went for the other one, pinning him to the wall by his hands. "Gimmie one good reason why I shouldn' jus' kill you!"

"Remy!"

A voice cut through the hysteria that was surrounding Remy, cut into him sharply. The only person he would listen to with all of this going on, with his head pounding, with Rhiannon's memories crowding his own for space.

"Remy, let him go!"

He removed his hands from Scott and turned around, looking ashamed. "Stormy, you don' understand..."

Storm looked at him. "I think I do, Remy." She was standing in the doorway. She had missed some of the commotion, but she had heard enough. "This is not the answer."

"I-I don' know what to do, Stormy. I'm so damned confused right now." He looked at her with the wide eyes of a child. Slowly, they began shifting, the red narrowing down until they looked normal. "I-I only meant to bond wit' her, I didn' know dis was gonna 'appen. I didn' know she was going to change me. I didn' know I'd get her memories."

"I know." She walked over and put her arm around him. "Come, we need to talk." Remy nodded and they left the room together.

The remaining occupants of the room looked from one another, trying to sort out what had happened, what they had learned, and mostly, what was going on now. "He's a half-vamp," Logan muttered. "He's like Rhiannon. Oh, shit."

"I don't understand," Warren said, scratching his head.

"You weren't on the team in the Rhiannon days," Logan said. "It's a very long story, Warren, an' I'd rather save it for another day."

"L-Logan?"

Logan turned, seeing Bobby, still standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, as he had been the entire time all of this was taking place. He was looking at Logan, his face pale, trembling slightly as if he suddenly caught a chill. "Yeah?" Logan said.

"Who's Rhiannon?" Bobby said, his face draining of color. "Who is she and why did part of me want to kill Scott too, when he admitted he had sex with her?"

Oh shit, Logan thought. How much of their relationship did Chuck leave buried in the boy's subconscious, thinking it would never surface again? "Well, that's another long story," Logan said, carefully.

Bobby stared at him, swallowing several times. "It's not just that..."

"What else is it?" Logan asked.

"Part of me is jealous of Remy, cause I think he's sleeping with her now." Bobby said. "And I don't even know who this is!"

"Bobby, don't worry about it," Logan said, walking over to him. He looked so young at that moment, like a teenage kid, trying to figure out why his steady girlfriend suddenly decided to go to the prom with someone else. "It's gonna be all right." He put his hand on Bobby's shoulder. "Just don't let it bother you now, okay? Maybe someday, you me an' the professor should have a little talk."

"Maybe." Bobby bit his lower lip. "I think I'm going to go see if Hank has any aspirin. I've got a hell of a headache."

"Storm, I gotta get out of here," Remy said. They were up in her attic room together, surrounded by all her plants. He did not know if it was the extra oxygen, or that he had told her the entire story of him and Rhiannon, but he was not feeling quite as helpless now. "I gotta go somewhere an' get my head together."

"I do not know if that is a good idea," Storm said softly, looking at him. "You have changed significantly. These changes are something you will need help with."

"You don' understan' Stormy. Dis place got her memories in it as well as mine. She lived here too. I can' handle it all. I gotta go someplace, someplace she ain't. Some place she never been."

"But what of your half vampire state?" Storm asked, deciding to ignore that he had called her Stormy. "You cannot just forget about it. It is part of what you are now, you will need help understanding what it is."

He shrugged. "Rhiannon is self taught wit' a lot of it. She also tole me mistakes she made, so I'll know to avoid dem." He walked over and sat down on the floor across from her. "I gotta do dis. I can' handle it all, right now."

"What about Rhiannon?" Storm asked. "In your anger, you said some hateful things to her. She must be very upset."

"Oui, she is," Remy admitted. He let the wall he had erected between himself and the bond slip a little, just enough to sense her feelings. She was upset, depressed, and scared. "I not gonna lie. I said some t'ings to her I probably shouldn' 'ave. But I wasn' prepared for this. I was prepared for de bondin' but not for becomin' like she is. I know now, standin' here, away from de situation, dat it wasn' all her fault, it's mine too, but I don' know if I could keep t'inking dat if I was wit' her." He reached out and took Storms hand, holding it. "Please don' be mad at me, Stormy. I jus' need t'go t'ink dis out. I won' be gone long."

"I still do not believe this to be a good idea, " Storm said, curling her fingers around his. His fingers felt cool to the touch, as if he had just come inside from a walk through the snow. "However, I cannot stop you. You are responsible for your own actions, Remy. I would rather see you stay here and try to work this out. Perhaps Henry could help you."

He shook his head. "I don' t'ink dere is a cure for vampirism. It ain't like de chicken pox." He drew his hand away and stood up. "I jus' need t'put some distance b'tween myself an' dis. I need to decide how I really feel. How I'm gonna handle being a half vampire, an' how I feel about Rhiannon."

"You love her," Storm said simply.

He stared at her. "Why you say dat?"

"Because I know you, Remy. You would not allow someone into your mind so completely if you did not have very strong feelings for them." She looked up at him. "I know you have always had trouble with love. You seek it, yet if it finds you, you become scared. Rogue was easier, because it was safe. Rhiannon is not as safe. She knows your body, she knows your soul."

"I loved Rogue," he stubbornly insisted.

"I know you did," Storm said. "But there were safe barriers. You could love her, but it always had to be from afar. You and Rhiannon do not have that protection."

He shrugged. "It don' matter, Storm. I made my decision. I'm leavin' for awhile. I be back when I've sorted dis all out."

"Will you even say good bye?" Storm asked.

"Only t'you Stormy. I'm not ready t'face de others. I don' know if I can face Scott right now. Or de professor. Or Bobby. God, in her own way, Rhiannon did love him. Logan too." He shook his head, a wry smile on her lips. "If I were more cynical, I'd wonder if Rhiannon was working her way t'rough all de male members of de team."

Storm's brows furrowed. "She and Logan, they...?"

He shook his head. "Non, she had a crush on him, but not'ing 'appened. Logan knew better, unlike Scott." He frowned. "Non, Stormy, I t'ink it's best I jus' leave b'fore I blow it again. So I jus' say good-bye to you."

She nodded and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him. He hesitated less than a second, then returned her embrace, leaning his head on her shoulder. "Please, be careful, Remy. And do not be gone long."

"I won' Stormy, I promise."

They drew apart. "That is a promise I intend to hold you to," she said, looking into his eyes. "And do not call me Stormy."

He smiled, trying to look happy, but there was a lot of sadness behind his eyes. "I be back sooner dan' you might t'ink. An- an I don' know if you will, but if you do 'appen t'see Rhiannon..." his voice trailed off.

"Yes?" she prompted him.

"Tell her I'll be back. Dat it ain't over. That-that I still care."

"I shall."

Nodding, he turned and left the room.

The End?

Well, for now, perhaps...

Author's notes:

Oh, I can almost hear people thinking, How can it be over? There are still so many questions to be answered. This story has worse plot holes than most of Marvels! We could drive a truck through some of these!

Well, the Narrow Walk is over, but the story is not. There is a whole lot more to be told about the adventures of Rhiannon and Remy. This story has evolved into a series, which shall be called Shadow Walkers.

The next step will be a series of short stories, which will be called "Separate Trails." Beyond that, I do not dare plan, because I am discovering that no matter how hard I try, Rhiannon and Remy seem to have a life of their own and will not do what I want.

One other note. Lady In Red will not be included in the Shadow Walkers series. Originally, that story was the future of this one, but The Narrow Walk has evolved into something so different than what it was intended to be, that I do not think I could ever tie it all together. So, consider Lady In Red a "what might have been" story.

Now, one last thing and I shall let you go. Thank you to everyone who read this story. Special thanks for everyone who took the time to comment, suggest, and encourage me further. Extra special thanks go to Darqstar and Bucky. Darqstar for being willing to type entire tale as I dictated it to her, so I could do this. (I have bad CTS and cannot type for very long without wanting to cut off my hands) And for helping me along when I got stuck and allowing me to listen to some songs repeatedly, just to set the right mood. To Bucky, for writing regularly as I was working on this and for making me think of things I had not thought of before. These two should get some of the credit for making this story what it is and for what it will be. I hope everyone who is reading this enjoyed The Narrow Walk and will continue to read and enjoy this series as it progresses.

As the saying goes, "The best is yet to come..."

Blessings
JF Jackson