Ace Of Hearts

by Rhona

Restoration had begun yet again on the Institute Of Higher Learning. As odd as things already seemed for this group of college students, something even stranger began.

A letter to one Mr. Remy E. LeBeau. With it was the ace of hearts. The back of the ace read:

Remy,

I don't mean to open up old wounds, but it is time to honor your promise to her. Shortly from now is the anniversary of her death. You've missed the last ten years, Remy, and her birthday. Don't miss this one and don't be late. You have over ten years to make up, don't screw it up.

He carefully placed it back in the envelope, noting sand in the bottom, and put it in his pocket. He then approached Scott. "I gotta go. I'll be back in a few days." He spoke softly.

"Important?"

"Oui." Gambit replied. "Somet'ing I put off way too long."

"How long?"

"A week tops", Gambit answered.

"See you then." Scott replied.

"T'anks." Gambit spoke softly, leaving to pack.

He took a mini jet and headed for the west coast. He landed and got a hotel room. Once he was settled in, he changed clothes and drove a rental car to the Prayer Field Cemetery, Seattle, Washington.

Once there, he walked to row F, plot 322A. He knelt down, dusting the leaves and dust off the raised angled headstone, revealing a picture of a raven haired girl about age ten. He placed the flowers he bought at the hotel gift shop in a vase then sat down. "Oh Shema, I am so sorry." He began, caressing the picture. "Since I saw you last, I been married, divorced, in love wit' one I can't touch, and now married again, but now to someone who don' wan' t' be married t' me. I am still in love wit' de one I can't touch, but it not de same." He paused to caress the words on the stone. It read:

He continued to speak to her. "I can't say dat I don' miss you, I do, but it's been twelve years since you go, ten since I be here t' talk t' you. I had t' go on. Not'ing I could do t' bring you back t' me." He felt something hit him. He looked down to see the king of hearts. "What the....?" He turned it over. On the back was an inscription in his handwriting.

Things aren't always what they seem.

~How?~

"Anyway, Petite, like I said earlier, I be married again." He continued. "She be a lot like you, I t'ink you'd like her too. Only problem is, is she don' wan' me. She a friend, like you, but not like you. She don' like my touch." He heard the leaves rustle behind him. He turned to see what it was, but no one was there. He turned back to the headstone.

"Dere are times, Petite, when I wish t'ings could be different. You, alive, now, meybe I wouldn' be so messed up." He sighed. "You used t' keep me on de straight and narrow. Make me t'ink, and laugh. You made me happy an' was my world. Now? Now I just try t' find happiness. Found it, I t'ought. At my new home, Xavier's." He toyed with a leaf as he spoke softly.

"You'd've liked it dere, Petite. It's a place where we don have to hide what we are, what we look like, just to fit in." He paused for a moment, shaking his head. "Wish dere was somet'in' I could have done. Kept you safe an' alive." He lowered his head. "You were my, my everyt'ing. Never wanted more dan t' be wit' you. Never needed more dan t' see you, hold you an' hear your voice. I jus' wanted us t' be free t' do dat. Free wit' you by my side, dere'd be not'ing we couldn't do." He looked up to the darkening sky. "I gotta go, Petite, dey be closing de gates soon."

He paused, pressing his fingertips to his lips then to the head stone and stood. "I'll come back t'morrow, meybe bring you dem flowers you like so much. You know, de ones you wan' for a bridal bouquet? De ones I make in to rings for your fingers and you make wreaths for my hair." He chuckled at the memory. "Always made you cry when dey died. Den I have de silver one made for you. Tol' you some day I give you a real weddin' ring." He paused, holding back a tear. "I love you, I always will love you." He turned and walked away.

~Never say 'good-bye'. Not our style, never t' her. It's too final.~ He thought as he walked. Shortly after leaving row F, he passed a woman wearing a hooded cloak, her features hidden except for her ruby red lips. He nodded in acknowledgment, never seeing where she went, walking past him toward the rows and away from the gate.

The next day, around noon, he returned. In his hands were a bouquet of wild flowers and a flower ring. He set up the second vase on her head stone, poured water into it, and set the bouquet in it. He then gently laid the ring around her picture. "Hi again, Petite. Brought you dem flowers like I promise." He paused for a moment. "Made you a ring too, just like de ones I used t' do. Always hated t' watch you cry when dey died." He lowered his head.

"Almost as sad as I was when you..." He stood. "Aw, Petite, Why?" He began to pace. "Why did you have t' die. I could have survived de hit. You didn' have t' step in de way. You were always so brave, so fragile. Always takin' de punishment. Why?" One could hear the tears that didn't show, the tears he never let go. Ones that should have come when she died, but he wouldn't allow them to see his pain. "I can' do dis, Shema, I'm sorry. It's jus' dat..dat.. Oh it's jus' too hard, almost new." He began to break, explaining in a hurried voice. "Buried it deep, never wanted t' deal wit' it. I'm sorry." He broke to tears. "It's all my fault." He whispered, walking away.

Later that evening, Gambit returned to the cemetery walls. The gate was locked.

~Gotta end it.~ He thought as he hopped the fence. ~Got t' say 'good-bye'. Swore I never would, but I can' keep doin' dis.~

He walked briskly toward her grave, stopping short to hide behind a tree. The woman, the one in the cloak from yesterday, she was sitting at Shema's grave. He watched as she seemed to toy with something, set it down on the grave and stand. He moved to re-begin his trek to Shema's grave. "'Cuse me Miss..." He began.

She jumped, facing his direction, then darted off toward the mausoleum "Damn!" He breathed, following her. She simply disappeared.

She held her breath, hiding in the shadow, watching him as he moved to Shema's Grave. Once she was sure it was safe, she sighed and entered the mausoleum.

He walked back to her grave, puzzled by her visitor. He knelt down, seeing the flowers he brought earlier were gone. On the grass of her grave, was a wreath, made from the wild flowers Shema loved so very much. In the middle were two roses. One was white with red trim, known as 'Fire and Ice'. The other was white splattered with red and called "Careless Love".

On either side of the roses, in the wreath, was a card. One was the King of hearts, the other was the ace. One was in his handwriting, the other was fresh red ink, sprinkled with sand and hers. The ace read: "For you, my love, never forget me." And the King read: "Forget me not, Petite, I only be a thought away." He wrote that when she left for boarding school in England.

~How?~

He picked up the cards, placing them carefully in his pocket, the ink dried quickly. The wreath was the size to fit his head now, not then, as if this woman knew all about him and her. He lifted it up and placed it on the headstone so it lay with the other one, the one he maid, a ring around a ring.

He turned and walked away with out another word. As he passed the mausoleum, he found another card, Ace of spades. It read: "Look inside her and you'll find me. I love you. I am always with you, Amore, always." Again the ink was fresh and was written with quill and blood red ink.

~Someone be playin' wit' me. Dey be playin' a deadly game now.~ He blew on it and ducked behind a tree when he heard a noise.

He watched as the cloaked woman returned and moved closer to hear her speak. "He's changed, Child." Her words soft and weathered. "Shame though, I thought he'd turn out better." She paused to look around, then sighed. "His wife, his new wife, she be a real handful. He meet her in Louisiana, or so he thinks. He's right though, she is so much like you, too much like you. Boy," She sighed, sitting on her knees.

"She had it rough as a child." Her voice shook with raging tears. "She too had a 'Sinister' life. That is how they got married. Sinister. He forced it. Shame too. They could be so good together if he could keep from wandering and work on her. She is stubborn, like you. She won't let her feelings show all because his touch effects her as no other man's touch has. She is scared, afraid of being hurt by him. She loves him so, even lays with him just to keep him by her side. But her pride won't let her love him nor accept his love for her if he has any."

She paused, looking around again. "He only has eyes for his Rogue, the one he can't touch. She loves him as he does her, but now he's married. A real shame there too. The three each love someone they can never have fully." She paused shaking her head. "He should start to love his wife or let her go. She tries to set him free, devoice him, but he always gets her to stay with him. Using his touch with her to make her stay."

She took a deep and ragged breath. She was obviously trying her best to control her anger, but just exactly who was she angry with? Him, Rogue, Serina, or Shema? She continued. "Then there is Belle, his first wife. If he don't be careful, he's going to lose his new wife as he has lost you. I only hope he opens his eyes and sees what he has with Serina before it is too late." She paused with a calming sigh.

"I have to return now. I shall see you on the other side, Child." She stood, caressing the headstone gently. "My work here is done. He's not that far away, Beloved. Til next year, when we roam the one night of release. All Hallows Eve." She blew a kiss to the picture of the girl and began to walk away, toward the mausoleum. "Next year, Remy, Next year." She remained in sight, stopping at yet another headstone. She turned to face him. All he could see was a cloak and glowing blue eyes. No feet, no hands, no features of a normal, or mutant, being. "Bring your wife, next year, Remy, I'm sure they'd get along just fine." Then she shimmered and faded where she stood.

"Wait! Who...?" He began, but she was gone. In her place was a deck of unmarked, very old playing cards and an old raised headstone. It read:

It was decorated with three pinnacles, and was warm to the touch of his hand, yet it was cold enough to see his breath. It sent chills down his spine.

~Must be crazy t' t'ink not'ing strange would happen in a cemetery on Halloween.~ He quickly picked up the cards and left with out another word. ~Someday, in de day, I come t' say 'good-bye...but not now.~

He drove back to his hotel, checked out and flew back to towards New York, his mind racing on what he had just learned.