CHAPTER 5: DEMANDING EXPLAINATIONS

"He's your what?" Bishop blinked, trying to process the information.

"M'ward. I signed de guardianship papers the ot'er day."

Storm looked at him questioningly.

"Do you mean to tell me, my friend, that this...thing...is a child's toy? And that this child is right now in our home?"

"Yup."

"Remy LeBeau, whatever possessed you to do this?"

Remy sighed. He might have known that they would not take the news well.

"It was eit'er wit' me, or de orphanage. T'me, dat ain' no choice."

"But to bring a child into our dangerous way of living...how is the boy to handle how we go out daily fighting villains? How he could always be in peril of capture from one of our enemies? Of how..."

Sage glanced carefully at the expressions on Gambit's face. She then examined the faces behind the Cajun X-man. The faces of a frightened child and a sleep-deprived southern bell. She then interrupted her leader.

"But this isn't a normal boy, is it Remy?"

"Non, he be Reed Richard's son."

He explained to his old friend.

"Y'see Stormy, de petite been livin' like dat his whole life. I ain't brought him int' anyt'in he ain't braved b'fore. An' besides--"

"I already tol' you, I'm *not* a 'petite'."

Remy turned to see young Franklin. The boy stood there with his teddy bear in one arm with his other hand grasping tightly to Rogue. He carried an expression of annoyance on his face, one of disdain for the nick-name, and for his lack of slumber. His face brightened at the sight of the wind- rider.

"Hiya, Miss Storm...do ya remember me?"**

Ororo squinted here eyes, till finally, recognition dawned on her countenance.

"Why yes, child. Indeed I do. I merely needed to associate your name with your face."

A growl surfaced from the corner of the room.

"If yer all done playin' family reunion, this knucle-head could use a little help?"

Wolverine gestured to his leg...to which the mechanical canine was still firmly attached. Franklin's face turned a slight red.

"I'm sorry Mr. Logan--Here Robo-Ben! Here boy! Stop botherin' the grouchy man..."

Robo-Ben, as the metallic toy was apparently called, released the Canadian's leg, trotting over to it's master. Franklin smiled.

"Good boy! You d'serve some oil for that...Rogue? Can ya come with me up to my room and help me give Robo-Ben some oil? It's his favorite treat."

Rogue hesitated, uncertain if Remy would want her to leave. She saw him nod his consent, he could take it from here. She smiled at the young boy.

"Ah'd be glad to, Franklin." They then wandered over into the boy's bedroom.

Remy was the first to speak.

"Please, ev'ryone...here Remy out b'fore y'go condescendin' m'judgement. De kid's got *no one*. De 'vengers had no way of findin' any o' de Richard's other relatives and de boy wasn' respondin' t' deir attempts t'help. I didn' intend t' bring him here. But he wouldn' leave wit' anyone else. I know dat life wit' de X-men be dangerous, but most o' de real big baddies been goin' after Warren's team. F' de most recent notice, we on break. An' de kid NEEDS some kinda stability. He's lost ev'ryt'ing. I might not be y'first choice t'act as de kid's pere, but he be latchin' on t'me, an' I need dis. Non jus' f'him....but f'me too."

"Remy?"

"Stormy?"

"Must you feel the need to justify *every* action to us? Do you think we wouldn't understand once you've explained who and what the child is? And who said you would make a poor father figure? I believe that you are right. It seems that you need Franklin as much now as he needs you."

Remy's tense muscles sagged in relief. He had been so afraid that they wouldn't understand...

"Merci, Stormy...can' t'ank y' enough..."

"Well, my friend, you may start by no longer calling me that ridiculous nick-name..."

"But why with us? Why not at the mansion with Jean and the Professor along with all the other mutant children?" Bishop asked.

Remy tensed. He had been desperately hoping this wouldn't be brought up.

"Stability, Lucas." Sage replied. "Franklin Richards has been severely traumatized, and being surrounded by the loud atmosphere and influence of the mansion would upset him further."

"Decide whatever ya flamin' want to 'bout the kid, I'm goin' out on the town. Anyone up fer comin' with me?"

"I would love to go about and enjoy New Orleans this time of night."

"Nothin' doin', darlin'. Yer goin' ta bed and gettin' some rest fer those injuries that ya ingnored in ya last fight."

"Slavedriver."

"Nighty-night ta ya, too."

Bishop re-adjusted his coat about his shoulders.

"I'm your man, then. Might as well try this 'loosening up' that Gambit's so anxious to have me try."

He gave the Cajun a small smile as he walked alongside Wolverine out the door. Storm sighed her frustration before giving Remy a small peck on the cheek, as she wearily wandered down the hall to her room. He turned to his last companion.

"T'ank y', Sage. Remy was almos' t'inkin' dat dey really would send de petite away."

"There's no sense in thanking me, Remy. I only did the sensible thing to do."

She noted his puzzled expression.

"I'm an analyst, Remy. I sense that Franklin's place is here. At the mansion, his fate could take many directions. Not all of which are beneficial. He would be under many influences; the Professor, Jean Grey, Emma Frost, and the various students besides. There is much in that place to disturb a boy of his fragile emotional state. And such a high level mutant cannot afford to live with that sort of threat to his psyche."

Remy watched her leave, jarringly reminded of the heavy responsibility now weighing on his shoulders.