InsaneJournal

Unlike many of the residents of Vas Captio, Remy hadn't fallen asleep and woken up in a strange place. No. He'd fallen asleep, then was suddenly awake and standing in a room with his adoptive father, who was talking. It took him a few seconds to snap out of it and focus his attention on the man, who was dressed in his Thieves uniform-- not the one meant for heists, but the one meant for ceremony. It was black and had a cloak that wrapped around and concealed his body from sight. Why was he wearing that? How had he gotten back here? And why wasn't Jean-Luc rushing him out of this room and telling him to run and never look back? What was going on here? He wasn't even registering the older man's words, as he turned to look around the room.. then red and black eyes fell onto the mirror to his left and he stopped abruptly and stared. A gloved hand (full fingers, for this clearly formal occasion) was lifting to touch at the mirror, as if in confusion.

Because there he stood, dressed in all black, boots up to the knee, the tighter nearly spandex pants encasing his lower body, and the tight, black long-sleeve shirt beneath. The black leather vest was meant to help protect his chest and vital organs in a fight, and the sword at his side was symbolic and little else, though it was made for fighting. The cape he was wearing was pushed back, running along his back and long enough to drag some on the ground. Why? Why was he wearing this? His breathing picked up a little, seeing the shorter state of his hair and the thinner build of his body.

He was eighteen again.

"Remy, you lis'enin', chile?" Came the smooth, charmed voice of his adoptive father, and Remy was turning quickly to look at him, though he was clearly startled. The older man gave him a soft smile of sorts and stepped forward, his hand coming out to rest on that dark-clad shoulder, leather gloves squeezing. They were all wearing gloves. Tradition. And with his father's arm up like that, the younger thief could clearly see the sword hanging at his side. They would all be wearing swords this day. Tradition. "Remy, I sai' you lis'enin' t' me, boy?"

"Oui--" He choked the word out and finally brought odd-colored eyes back up to blue. He was listening, sort of. He wanted to know what the Hell was going on. How he'd gotten back here and-- where was his Doctor? He turned his head, looking around the room quickly, almost frantically. But a gloved hand was catching his chin and forcing him to look back at his father.

"Wha' you so nervous for? 'De girl, she gorgeous, an' you love her, non?" A question that would ring in Remy's ears for months to come. Did he love Bella Donna? He'd told the Doctor that he'd only met her just once, he'd told Shannon that he hadn't known her well. The truth was, he'd known her since he was a young boy, since he'd been adopted into this life of crime. Did he love her, his father had asked?

"Oui, Papa, I love her." He answered in a whispered tone, one that got a pat to his clean-shaven cheek.

"Goo', 'den you gonna marry her an' you gonna take over 'dis whole t'in' when I ain' fi' t' run i' no more. My boy, my chile.. my Remy, 'de Mas'er T'ief. So prou' o' you." He reminded him with a smile that said exactly what he'd just assured. He was proud. The words made the Cajun's stomach twist. He was going to ruin this day all over again. He was going to ruin his life, he was going to murder his new wife's brother, he was going to be outcast, he was going to lose his title and his life here, the happiness he'd thought he'd had. She was going to hate him, she was going to want him dead-- they all were. All he'd been doing was defending himself.

"Remy." That loud scolding voice snapped him from his thoughts again and his father was leaning in closer. "Ge' i' t'ge'ter, boy. We nee' y' t' do 'dis, we gotta join wit' 'dem, we gotta be stron', and you gotta be man 'nuff t' run 'de T'ieves an' 'de Assassins, you t'ink you can' do 'dat, you gotta tell y' papa now, you un'ers'an' me?" His tone wasn't nearly as gentle this time around, and the twenty-one year old stuck in his eighteen year old body was nodding.

"Oui, can do 'dis, swear. Jus'.. can y' gimme uh few minu'es, Papa? Jus' t' collec' myself." He'd always been an amazing liar, even to the man who'd taught him everything he knew. It was a curse as much as it was a blessing. But it worked, and the older man was smiling and nodding, then sweeping his way from the room and closing the door behind him. Gambit let out a rush of breath and rubbed both gloved hands over his face. He needed to get his shit together. Clearly, this was some trick by the management. He was sure of what was real and what wasn't real. He knew that he was trapped in that glass prison and that this was something they'd wanted him to relive. Maybe it was all just a dream, a simulation, something in his mind.. he hoped that was the case. He was patting down his pockets. He had to have his lock picks on him somewhere. He had to have a knife. He had to have something! And when he found something, he was tugging it out, but it wasn't what he expected. It was a little white box. A ring box. Had he bought Bella a ring? No, he hadn't.. it'd been something of his adoptive father's late wife's. Remy had never met the woman, but Jean-Luc spoke of her all the time. And he had given this ring to Remy, to give to his new wife.

Slowly, the mutant opened the box to stare down at the ring. It was so simple.. a silver band with a single inset diamond. And he knew that Bella would only get to wear it, as a married woman, for so long. She'd only be happy for a few hours before Remy ruined both of their futures. His eyes fell half-lidded at the memory.. the one he was doomed to repeat, he was sure. But even as he thought that, he was closing the box and setting it down on the table. He needed to get out of here, get away from this place. He needed to escape and find the Doctor, where ever he was. He had to be here, right? Was everyone here in his world? Had they all been transported here? Or was he all alone? He hoped, briefly, that they were here.. but then he shook that thought from his mind. They'd be killed if they showed up here.

That was, if any of this was real. But whether it was or not, he wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. He was going to run while he could. He was going to get out of this room and run until his legs gave in on him, until exhaustion overtook him and he passed out. He was just going to run. But as he pushed open that door and quietly crept into the hallway, he'd be able to hear voices from further down. He had to call on all of his skills as a slinker to make it down the hall.. but soon, he was passing the slightly ajar door, and he heard the voices from inside. Bella Donna, and her mother. They were talking about the wedding and how excited Bella was, how much she loved Remy and how she'd dreamed of this day. Those words caused him to lean and take a look through the crack, unable to help himself. It was bad luck to see the bride before the wedding, but not seeing her last time certainly hadn't helped his cause any, and this time he didn't plan on marrying her anyway, so what was the harm? With a bit more of a lean, he could see her there, not in a traditional white wedding dress.. no, this wasn't a traditional wedding, and assassins didn't wear white. She was in black, much like he was.. but with red accents. The red signified blood, that she'd made her first kill.. and she had, years and years ago. So had Remy, but his hadn't been by choice, Bella had cheerfully done the deed. It was in her blood, to murder. The Doctor, Remy thought, wouldn't like her. But then he had to wonder why that had even come into his mind at all. He needed to stop thinking and start moving.

But Bella looked so lovely in that uniform, so form-fitting and dark, her own hands gloved up and a sword on her back. Her blonde hair was curled and up, a lovely look that was very fitting of her face, though not of her profession. There was no room for beauty in the world of a murderer. Remy lingered there a moment longer, until the conversation turned onto Bella's brother and how he wasn't pleased with this match. That was when he knew it was time to go.

Down the hall as silently as he could, he'd make it out the doors, and people were there to congratulate him and wish him well, hand shakes and pats on the back, cheerful words in French.. they weren't all Cajun, of course, but maybe a tenth of them were, a large population living under just one roof. He'd been as casual as he could, laughing and thanking them and doing what could remember doing as a boy.. but then he'd be able to make it out of the large building and to the outside world, heavy boots sinking into the slightly damp grass outside. After a few seconds of hesitation, he'd taken off running, one gloved hand on the sword at his side to keep it steady, and that cloak flying out behind him as he ran. Into the forest, like a fugitive from justice. The sun was starting to go down, he knew these woods like the back of his hand, they wouldn't be able to find him. He'd run and run, until he was far enough away that he could yell without being heard. "Docteur!" He called out into the forest, gloved hands coming up to cup his mouth. "Docteur! You here? Rose! Jack! Shannon!" He spun some, looking around with wider eyes. "Selene!" Anyone? But only silence and his own panting breaths were his answer. He was alone here. Maybe they'd transported him home.. into the wrong time. Maybe.

He began running again. He needed to get out of here. Now.

However, as he neared the edge of that large forest, getting closer to the city, he found himself suddenly back in the hall of the compound, and he was slowing down his run, panting away. His boots weren't muddy, nor were his clothes, it was like he'd never been outside. What was going on here? But then he heard the music, he recognized the doors, and he'd realized that it was time to go and marry Bella. Again. So he turned on his heel and began walking away quickly. He only got twenty steps before he found himself suddenly in front of that door again, his momentum carrying him through and into the crowd of people. They all turned to look and he backed up a step, but his arm was suddenly caught, hooked by his bride as she hauled him forward down that aisle.

"Ain' I 'de one 'pose' t' be comin' down 'de aisle, Remy LeBeau?" She teased gently, a smile finding her face. "You always gotta be 'de show stopper, non?" They were whispered words, as they made their way down the aisle, Remy helpless to pull away, all he could do was walk.

So he pleaded with her, instead. "Bell, 'dis ain' uh goo' idea. Know somet'in's gonna go wron', you gotta trus' me. Y' frère don' wan' dis. Don' wan' us t' ge' marrie', he gonna wanna duel me--"

"Don' be silly, Remy, he ain' gonna do 'dat. Silly boy. Stop playin' games. We gonna ge' marrie' an' we gonna be happy, non? Ain' gonna le' you leave me, mon voleur. Gonna stay wit' me. An' I'm gonna stay wit' you, make y' happy. We gonna run 'dis place an' you gonna be my King, non?" Another light tease, one that Remy could only swallow in response to.

The wedding was fast, too fast, and when he'd been asked if he would marry Bella, he'd said no, but only 'Oui' had come from his lips. And like that, they were married. Gloves removed, rings exchanged, and a party thrown. There'd been drinking and dancing and laughter, they had rejoiced and been merry. And Remy was stuck, trapped in the middle of it, wishing the Doctor who was so fond of saving everyone, would come save him now. But as the night began winding down, the young Cajun knew what was coming. The dancing had slowed, the food was disappearing, and people were drunk. One man in particular, Bella's brother, Fierier, was very drunk. And the mutant's whole body tensed as the older man came stumbling over to the young couple, sword already drawn.

"LeBeau!" He shouted angrily, waving the sword once. Drunk. Not drunk enough not to know what he was saying and doing.. but too drunk to fight. Remy would kill him this time, too. He knew it. And it twisted at his stomach.

"G'wan an' sleep i' off, Fierier," He demanded in a tighter tone. He hadn't dared to drink all night, he wanted to be alert for this. Bella was a bit more than tipsy and laughed at her brother, telling him in French that she was a LeBeau now, too. He certainly hadn't liked that, and was narrowing down his eyes.

"Figh' me!" He demanded, but Remy shook his head. "Figh' me, you cowar'!" Came the second shout, but Remy only released Bella and held up his hands.

"Ain' gonna figh' you, you go an' sober up, frère--"

"I ain' your brot'er!" The older man shouted back, waving that sword again. Years ago, they were already fighting by now, but Remy was trying not to, he was trying to stop this, to keep it from happening. But no matter what he said, what he did, the other man just got more angry and more aggressive. It would eventually turn into a fight, Remy knew it. He'd have to defend himself.

"'Nuff, Fierier! Jus' g'wan an' go 'way!" Was his last attempt, as he was drawing his sword in a threatening gesture.

"Non! Figh' me!" With that, Bella's brother was rushing forward, swiping at the younger Cajun. Remy did all he could to avoid, he parried a few times, he fought the other man off without striking any blows of his own-- but soon, that other sword was slicing into his side good and deep, and instinct was kicking in, he couldn't allow himself to die here. He had to do something.

His own sword, before he knew what was happening, was driving up into his brother-in-law's body, through his gut and out his back, past his spinal cord. Remy was shaking hard as he realized what he'd done. Again. And as the other man coughed up blood onto his ceremonial uniform, Gambit jerked that sword out and threw it aside then hugged the shivering body in against his. "Non! Fierier! C'mon-- Someone ge' some help!" He shouted out angrily to the watching crowd, even as the other body started to go limp, and Remy was forced to lower him to the ground. "C'mon, don' die-- Fierier--"

"Knew you was jus'.. like us. Ain' no better." The elder brother of his wife coughed out the words, a bit of blood splattering onto Remy's face as the mutant held him tight, panting out a few hard breaths as he felt the other man go limp. Then the shouting started. He'd killed the son of the leader of the Assassin's Guild. His wife's brother. His brother. The Assassins were yelling. They wanted revenge. They wanted blood. And all Bella Donna could do was scream.