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Remy LeBeau (ace_of_clubs) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,

"Ain' not'in' wron' wit' bein' alone, mon ami." The Cajun reminded him easily, turning his head to look over at him, red eyes locking onto the dimly lit form of the lounging Doctor. For some reason, this immediately reminded him of a shrink's office, with both of them on couches. And it caused a grin to spread across his face... but soon, it was back to the conversation at hand.

"No one to worry 'bou'. No one t'be use' agains' you. No pain. No sufferin'. You jus' gotta look out for yourself. Jus' one mout' to feed, when you go to bed hungry, you don' feel bad you coul'n' feed your frien', you jus' feel hungry." He breathed in deeply through his nose before releasing it through his mouth. "Ain' got no one to miss, when 'dey die. Ain' got no one to worry 'bou' missin' you, when you die." Everyone died, some time. Even great Time Lords.. or so Gambit assumed. Even Logan, one day, would die. Nothing could live forever. Forever, some day, would come to an end.

Everything died. "We gon' sleep here tonigh'?" Gambit was fine with that. In fact, he was hoping for it. And even if the Doctor decided he wanted to go back, maybe the Cajun would stay anyway. This couch beat a floor any day.