A Mother's Last Gift
part 2

Jean was busy preparing the evening meal. The X-men had a rotating schedule of whose night it was to cook and tonight it was Jean and Rogue’s turn. And since Rogue was there naturally so was Joseph. Jean tried her best not to judge the man for his past but she still felt distinctly uncomfortable around the man. It was a sentiment that most of the X-men shared. That was why he spent as much time as possible around Rogue. She was the only one that he seemed to be totally at ease with. That fact however, caused a whole group of problems all its own.

Jean finished slicing some tomatoes for a salad and began to rumage around in the fridge for some Italian dressing. The fridge was quite well stocked, as Rogue and Joseph had taken it upon themselves to go grocery shopping that morning. Jean managed to find the dressing and placed it on the counter next to the salad. She looked over to see Joseph setting the table.

"Oh Joseph, that is enough places." Jean said.

Joseph stopped and gave her an odd look. "But by my count there are still two more X-men that are unaccounted for."

"Yes, I know but it is Thursday." Joseph gave her a blank look that clearly showed that he did not understand. Jean rushed to explain. "Hank always takes his meals in the lab on Thursdays. It is the one day of the week that he has set aside as his catch up day. He locks himself in at 5:00am and doesn’t come out until midnight. Someone always takes him his meals or he would go hungry otherwise."

Joseph nodded in understanding. "What about the other unaccounted for individual?"

Jean shrugged. "Wolverine seldom eats with us anymore. If he does show up however, we can always set an extra place. Rogue, how is that casserole coming?"

"It should be done in about another ten minutes. I just hope that it doesn’t go to waste like my last one did."

Jean was setting the salad on the table when the kitchen door swung open to reveal the last person Jean had wanted in the same room as Rogue and Magneto. Gambit stopped for a brief instant when he saw the unexpected crowd. Jean could feel the tension that instantly took the room. Ever so slowly Gambit walked to the refridgerator.

"If you are looking for more beer Lebeau, don’t bother." Jean cursed Joseph’s lack of tact. "All that was in there of this morning were the remains of a six-pack so old that I felt it would be more prudent to remove it to make room for more crucial supplies."

Gambit turned and leveled a look at the other man that soon had Joseph using his mutant gifts to create an invisible magnetic shield between the two of them. "Dat was mighty generous of y’ homme." Jean wasn’t sure if Gambit yet realized what the other man had done, but if he tried to advance on Joseph the shield would prove quite lethal.

Jean was about to call them both down when Rogue spoke up. "Now stop this. Both of ya’."

She pointedly glared at Joseph until he dropped the shield, which was clearly against his wishes as Gambit’s expression had not changed a hair. "Remy shugah, Storm told me about all the drinkin’ ya’ been doin’ since Ah left." Her tone was appealing. She was obviously trying to reach Gambit. "Ya’ don’t have some mutant healin’ factor like Logan. If ya’ don’ stop soon Ah’m afraid ya’ might kill ya’self."

Gambit’s expression softened and Jean felt as if the storm had passed. Joseph, however, seemed unable to let it go at that.

"Besides, if you cut back on your alcohol consumption, it might help you get back on active duty." Gambit’s expression went unreadable and that terrified Jean more than his earlier murderous expression. She could sense nothing from him, neither anger nor hate though it was evident that both were boiling underneath the surface. It was the expression of a man going in for the kill and does not yet want to tip his hand. Jean very much feared that the X-men would soon have a new grave when fate delivered a much needed miracle.

CODE RED CODE RED…..WE HAVE AN EMERGENCY SITUATION….BLUE TEAM SCRAMBLE. Jean sighed in relief as the alarm diverted the two men’s attention from each other. Rogue and Joseph promptly raced out the door to answer the alarm. Gambit hesitated a few moment before he moved to join them.

"Gambit, you can’t go. You aren’t on active duty." Jean hated to say those words. Joseph had just taken his pride and smashed it to pieces in front of the woman he loved but she could not let him run out on a mission in this condition.

Gambit stopped and turned to face her. "Y’ gonna stop me den, chere?"

"No, I won’t," Gambit’s face shone with gratitude at her statement, "but Scott will. He won’t let you come with the X-Men on a mission until he is convinced that you are fit for duty. You know that, I know that." Jean watched as the Cajun’s shoulders slumped in defeat. He slowly walked to the door and walked out.

Jean sat down at the table to survey the now empty room. She glanced at the table which was now set for six too many people. "Well, it looks like Rogue’s casserole is going to go to waste after all." She sat down to think about recent events for a moment. It seemed as if all the X-Men were still somewhat lost after Xavier’s betrayal. They were all trying to deal with it in their own way. Many, like Storm, Scott, and Hank were simply burying themselves in their work. Gambit seemed to be burying himself in his drink. Yet as much as she sympathysed with the Cajun, she had to agree with her husband. Gambit was in no condition to go on a mission. The memories and emotions of their mind link had faded slightly from two nights ago, yet she still remembered the overwhelming sense of guilt, sorrow, and loss. How the Cajun managed to function while carrying around all that emotional baggage was beyond her.

Jean sighed. The strangest fact about the entire situation was that the most clear and distinct memory that she had received from Gambit was that of a flock of birds. It hadn’t been the most clear memory at first, but after two days the other memories had faded somewhat while this one remained clear. Jean couldn’t even begin to fathom what significance lay in a simple flock of birds. She didn’t even clearly remember what memory that the birds had been associated with. Jean sighed and dismissed her concerns. Every person’s mind worked a bit differently, so Gambit’s mind could have simply latched onto the memory on some whim of his sub-conscience.

She had fully intended to forget about the birds, but for some reason they continued to intrude into her thought. *This is crazy.* Jean thought to herself. The world was on the brink of war with mutants and she was thinking about birds. Jean examined the memory curiously. After a moment of concentration she was able to place its origin, the memory in the park. It was Gambit’s only memory of his mother. She had thought that the memory had been odd when she had first looked at it, for the scene was obviously in the dead of winter yet the sky contained a flock of birds as one might see on a summer’s day.

After concentrating on the memory she could see that it was actually a conglomeration of several memories. That was not especially unusual as many children tended to shove several of their earliest memories into one. What was odd however, was that while most of the memory seemed to have faded with age, the birds remained sharp and distinct. For a brief moment Jean experienced a flash of panic, it could be an implanted memory. Another glance relieved her concerns. The memory blended in to well to be an implant. It was almost as if some form of telepathic sealant had been used to preserve it. Jean shook her head in confusion. Who would want to preserve a memory of birds. Maybe Gambit had done it. He had displayed untrained telepathic potential. He could have done it just by accident or when experimenting with his powers. For come reason that didn’t seem right either. Whoever had done this had a light practiced touch. Jean’s heart froze for an instant. Could his mother have preserved the memory for her son.

The more she thought about it the more sense it made. No one, not even Gambit, knew anything about his parents. She could have been a telepath and that would certainly account for Gambit’s mysterious charm powers. There was still only one thing that made no sense. Why preserve a flock of birds.

Despite a day that thus far had been completely unproductive, despite having to work in a lab that had recently been destroyed, Henry Hank McCoy was in a jubilant mood. Of course after weeks of imprisonment, the simple joy of being free was still to fresh to be squashed by petty concerns such as the annihilation of the entire mutant race by some silly virus. Henry sung playfully back and forth over the the debris that still littered his lab floor. He reached the one remaining functional computer monitor and waited eagerly for results. So intent was he on the small screen that he didn’t notice the door open with a small swish.

"Ah-hah." Henry cried triumphantly.

"Did you find out something about the legacy virus?" Henry jumped slightly at the sound of Jean’s voice.

"Umm…no. But I did manage to discover that that St. Louis finally managed to clench their division while I was away."

"Oh."

"Hey, don’t look so glum. I’m sure Cincinnati is just having a bad year. They’ll be right back up there next year."

"What makes you think that I even care about Cincinnati?"

Henry’s eyes twinkled. "With a name like the Reds, lets Just say it was a forgone conclusion."

Jean chuckled briefly, then her mood seamed to turn serious again. "Hank, do you have any serious leads on the legacy virus that you need to follow this instant."

Henry considered his answer for a moment before deciding to be brutally honest. "No, at this moment I don’t have clue 1 about how to stop the legacy virus."

Jean seemed to consider his answer before she spoke again. "I need your help solving a mystery."

"Oh…sounds interesting. Are we talking Agathy Crystie or Mary Higgins Clark here."

"Neither. We are talking about Remy Lebeau."

Henry paused for a moment. "Personally I think Agathy Cristie would be much more entertaining, not to mention productive."

"Hank, I’m serious."

Henry sighed as he adjusted his glasses on his face. "Jean, the man has been with us for over two years and we still hardly know anything about him. That is not the kind of mystery that you crack in an afternoon."

"Normally, I would agree with you. But recent discoveries have changed my opinion of the man."

Beast’s interest was piqued now. "What kind of discoveries?"

"For one, all this time Gambit has been hiding the fact that he is a telepath."

Henry felt his eyebrows raise. "That is quite a revelation. It would certainly explain several inconsistencies regarding his powers."

"Inconsistencies?" Jean was wearing a questioning frown.

"Well, most energy blasters, such as our fearless leader generally have their powers operate in the sectors of the mind that also direct muscular control. Using their power is almost like flexing a muscle to them. I know from medical observation that Gambit’ kinetic charge ability operates out of the portion of the mind that controls much of our conscious thought, similar to your telekinetic ability. If Gambit is truly a telepath, his kinetic ability could very well be a telepathicly originated power."

"Be that as it may," Jean said interrupting him, "that is not the reason I need your help."

"Oh," What other startling revelations did she have concerning the Cajun charmer.

"Two nights ago is when I discovered that Gambit was a telepath. I was attempting to undo the damage caused by Onslaughts arrival at the mansion. The job was routine but potentially dangerous, thus I needed a back up telepath to act as a safety line." Jean paused for a moment before continuing. She told him of her encounter with Gambit that led to her discovery of the Cajun’s telepathic powers. Hank winced slightly as she recounted her slip that nearly led to disaster while repairing the damage. That story of course led to the revelation of the memory transfer between her and Gambit. He tried to suppress his disappointment when Jean opted not to share some of those memories with a very curious Beast. She completed the tale by discussing how she had discovered a telepathicly preserved memory.

Henry scratched his chin thoughtfully. "A very interesting story. The question is, why would anyone feel compelled to preserve a memory of birds."

Jean shook her head. "I’m not really sure. I need to look at the memory objectively, but it is so interconnected with Gambit’s emotions concerning the scene, that it is difficult to do so. That is why I need you help. I need to transfer the memory to cerebro’s database. It is a fairly delicate job and I would greatly appreciate the aid of the local cerebro expert in accomplishing the task.

Henry grinned boyishly. "Are you asking me to drag myself out of the lab on a Thursday. This would be quite unprecedented you know."

"Well, if you really need to get back to your work…."

"Okay, okay. There is no need to bring out the torture implements. You’ve convinced me." Henry motioned dramatically for her to lead the way. "So, what exactly do you hope to find from examining our wayward Cajun’s noodle?"

"Just a mother’s last message to her son."

End part 2