Gambit surveyed the wreckage which was the ruins of Xavier's School for the Gifted. It was washed with light from the fading sun which glinted against metal studs and broken glass. He perched on the rock just inside the wrought iron gates. The gates and brick fence still stood as a monument to old-fashioned crafts manship. "Ain't you a little old fer climbin' that rock?" a familiar voice asked.
Gambit turned his head slowly. Smoke drifted up from his nostrils. "Younger'n you, ole man." Silver streaked through his chestnut hair now. His red and black eyes were still clear.
Wolverine crawled up to join him there. "Never thought I'd see it like this on purpose." He lit his cigar and puffed on it meditatively.
"Scotty'd flip, non?"
"Surprised he ain't found a way to haunt the place."
"Heh. Talk t' the pretty lil girl wit' no eyes. Hear her tell it, he's been lecturin' from the grave."
Logan snorted. "Spirit's a good girl, but I'm pretty sure she's fuckin' with ya."
Remy laughed. "Lil young f' me, but pretty 'nough."
They were quiet for a long moment. "How's Ro doin'?"
"She's dyin'," Remy said bluntly. "Put y' on the visitors list at the home. She'd like t' see ya."
"Sick of folks dyin' on me."
Remy patted the older man's shoulder. He looked as though he could be Logan's father now. It was a kick in the gut. "Ah, cher," was all he said. Most of the original X-men had pass on. Hell, most of the next generation had children now. They'd achieved – if not the dream – at least enough acceptance that the X-men were no longer needed. "If wishin' made things so."
"I know. I'll go see 'er. Drag Kitty with me."
"Heard about Belle. I'm sorry, kiddo."
"Weren't unexpected. Ain't many retired assassins in the world." Remy'd actually been the one to find her dead in her office from a singe perfectly placed shot. Her Guild sucessor was a woman with a sweet smile and a black hole instead of a heart. She treated Remy like a cute but dumb pet and he was content to let her. He'd already cleaned out half of her secret accounts.
"Yer lookin' good."
"Ain't lookin' my age at least." He stubbed out his cigarette. "Hear Essex tell it ole Remy's gonna last a few more years. Long as he don't get hisself shot."
Logan snorted. "Surprised he ain't offer ya a healin' factor." Sinister had admitted to being Gambit biological father after Scott killed Apocalypse. He'd been attempting to play father ever since. Remy was quiet as he stared over at the boathouse. Talking about Sinister always made him miss Scott and Jeannie.
"Ain't said that."
Logan went still, smoke drifting around his head like a grey halo. He studied the thief with sharp blue eyes that made Remy think of hundreds of sparring sessions over the years. The same thrill of adrenaline threatened to make itself known, but he shoved it away with years of practice. "And what did ya tell him?"
"Tole him I needed t' talk t' y'." Remy flicked out a new cigarette and lit it with a thought. "Poccy's gone. Scotty's gone. Sinny's changed some, but I ain't sure he's gonna actually leave it up t' me." He took a drag of warm smoke.
"Damn it, kid."
"Means I ain't gonna leave ya at least."
Logan squeezed Remy's thigh. "Come on. I'll spot ya dinner at Harry's."
Remy chuckled. "He pushed himself off of the rock and felt his joints complain. "Y' owe me from the last poker game anyhow."
The setting sun bathed the site in red and orange light as the two men climbed over the broken brick fence. They strolled past the construction sign that heralded the new development of the "Xavier-Summers Boarding School, Sam Guthrie Headmaster."