Title: Experiencing Christmas.

Fandom: X-Men.

Parings: none.

Rating: R

Status: finished.

Category: drama, alternate universe, angst.

Archive: Yes, just drop me a note telling me where you're archiving it.

E-mail address for feedback: morganalebeau@yahoo.com.

Series/Sequel: First in a series.

Disclaimer: Gambit and X-Men is (c)copyright of Marvel Comics. No copyright infringement is intended.

Summary: A street kid in New Orleans celebrates his first Christmas.

Experiencing Christmas

Merde, it's too damn cold! I don't remember New Orleans being covered in snow before, but this year the weather gods went mad! Thankfully I found some shelter at the entrance of this grand house. I tried the shelters, but they don't want Le Diable Blanc around for the Christmas days, I would ruin the Christmas spirit! Figure that! If they were truly Christians, they would have taken me in and have taken care of me too! But no, Le Diable Blanc isn't welcome anywhere!

The rags I'm wearing don't do much to fight off the bitter cold. Ever since it started snowing, people began to stay inside their warm and cozy houses, making it nearly impossible for me to pick their pockets. "Merde, why de snow?" It's been days since I've eaten and I feel weak.

Hiding deeper beneath the newspapers I try to hold on to the little warmth I managed to build. Old newspapers and pieces of cardboard are my only defences against the cold. Like last night, I wonder if I will make it through the night. I'm shivering and my hands and feet have gone numb, but the alternative is worse. I know I can get warm, can get inside their houses if I use my charm, but the risk is too big. What if the charm hits a perverted man who's only interested in dragging me off to fuck me?

I learned that lesson during my early days on the streets. I have no idea how I ended up on the streets of New Orleans, but I quickly learned to be very careful and to be wary of men who offered to take me home for a bath and a hot meal. They always expected something from me in return. I made the mistake of going home with them the first few times, but after fighting them off I decided to run in the opposite direction when they came on to me.

The shivers become tremors, which rock my body. It's too cold, too dark and I'm alone. Why hold on? It would be easy to let go now, to simply drift asleep and let the cold take me. Why am I still holding on to life? A life that consists only of misery and pain? I escaped the Antiquary's clutches years ago and I'm not going back, not even when it means having a warm place to sleep and enough food. No, maybe I should stop fighting and give up. This life isn't worth living.

A gust of fierce wind drags away my newspaper. I should go after it, but the cold has frozen my body and I can't move. I can't go after it, even if I wanted to. I hope the bon Dieu will take pity on me and spare my soul eternal torment in hell, but knowing my bad luck it will burn forever.

"Au revoir..." The words tumble from my frozen lips and it's my last goodbye to this cruel world that never wanted me. I close my eyes and my head slumps forward. I'm ready to die.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Mon Dieu! Henri!"

The words are unwelcome intruders, which force my eyes open again. My eyelashes are partly frozen to my skin, but I don't feel any pain when they separate. Gathering my last strength I look up at the shadow that's hovering above me.

"Mon Dieu! It's a chile!"

My eyes focus and identify the form. It's a man, dressed in a luxurious, velvet suit. Long, dark hair dances on his shoulders and his eyes radiate a wondrous worry. "Sorry, m'sieur..." I'm amazed I'm still capable of speech and start to haul myself back on to my feet. "I'll leave now." They usually get mad when finding me asleep on their doorstep. The rich people don't want any beggars sleeping near their houses.

"Chile..."

I stumble over my own two feet, which are frozen and numb. I start to fall and close my eyes, hoping I will pass out before I hit the pavement. The man will probably call the police, who will push me inside a squad car and drive me to a more deserted part of town and kick me out there. At least that way I get to be inside a warm car for a short while.

Falling, I try to prepare myself mentally for the pain, but suddenly strong arms wrap themselves around me, holding me upright and keeping me from crashing into the concrete. Staring at the stranger, I wonder why the hell he's touching me. These rich people don't like to touch scum like me and wouldn't have broken my fall. I try shrugging my shoulders, but my body refuses to co-operate.

"Poor chile. Jean-Luc will take care of you."

Take care of me? What's he talking about? No one takes care of Le Diable Blanc... Oh no, mon Dieu! I've got to get away from him before he can hurt me! I'm in no shape to fight off the perverted bastard! I try to kick him, move away from him, but my body has given up and is frozen. The man easily lifts me in his arms and carries me inside.

Mon Dieu... it's a beautiful house. I've never seen such splendour and luxury. Heavy curtains are draped in front of the windows and there's even a real Christmas tree in the salon where he lays me down on one of the soft couches. Bien, maybe I'll willingly pay the price for being warm. Staring at the Christmas tree, I smile at the bright lights and golden garlands. I've never seen such a richly decorated Christmas tree and I wish I could get closer to it to touch it. "C'est beau..."

"De tree?"

The stranger looks worried, but I dismiss that observation. He's probably worried I will defile his couch or run off before he had a piece of my ass.

"Henri? Merde, where is he?" The man looks about and seems displeased when no one answers. "Henri? Where are you?"

"Oui?" A young man enters the room and heads for the couch.

So this is Henri? I give up on the idea of fighting off my 'saviours'. I might be able to fight off one of them, but two? This situation has spun out of my control and there's nothing I can do so I close my eyes and listen to them.

"Fill up the bat'tub, Henri. We need to warm de petit's body. Raise de room temperature and get more blankets from de guest rooms."

"Oui." Henri obeys and leaves the salon.

I strain to remember the man's name. What name did he use outside? Jean-Luc? So this Jean-Luc is in charge and maybe Henri is his lover? Guess Jean-Luc likes his meat young. What if I never escape from his clutches? Will he hurt me badly?

"Stop strugglin', petit. I want to help you!"

Non! His hands are undoing the buttons of my shirt, trying to slip it off. I refuse to give in so easily! Although my body is still numb with cold I try to fight him off. My eyes flash open again when his hands move to unzip my jeans. "Non!"

Something in my eyes or screams stops him, because Jean-Luc's hands freeze. I've got to act now! This is my chance to get away from him! If only my body would co-operate, but I'm shivering fiercely and feel paralyzed.

"Don' be scared of me, petit. I won' hurt you." Jean-Luc tries to sound reassuringly, speaking slowly and gentle. "But you're frozen and a warm bat' will help raise your body temperature. I promise everyt'in' will be bien."

Mon Dieu help me, but I've got no idea why I want to believe him. I should know better than to trust a stranger, but I've got nothing to lose and when I'm warm I can still try to get away from him. I stop struggling, but follow every move he makes as he undresses me. His hands now smooth back my frozen locks and one icy stray breaks in two.

"Mon Dieu, chile. Even your hair is frozen!"

Jean-Luc's shocked expression reveals his deeper emotions and I wonder about him. He's one hell of an actor to make me believe he's actually worried. I'm completely naked now and shivers rack my body. Suddenly, Jean-Luc leans in closer and I prepare myself for the pain that will surely follow, but he gently lifts me in his arms and carries me out of the salon, up the stairs and into the bathroom, where Henri has filled the bathtub with hot water. The bathroom is filled with warm steam, which invades my lungs and makes me cough. I've had a cold for days now and the steam is loosening the congestion.

"Bien, let's see if dis helps."

Jean-Luc lowers me into the hot water and my eyes bulge, feeling its warmth invade my pores. I can't remember being this warm before! The water closes over my body and my eyes close, relishing the warm sensation. Unexpectedly, warm water cascades down my face and I peek at the two men. Merde, they do seem worried, but... it can't be.

"Henri, prepare de guest room closest to my room. The petit will be asleep wit'in minutes."

Oh non, I will stay awake! No way am I going to fall asleep with two strangers close! I don't trust them!

"Oui, père." Henri rushes out of the bathroom.

Père? Did Henri call Jean-Luc père? Are they father and son? Non, I don't buy it. One of the first times a man hit on me, he wanted me to call him poppa and maybe Jean-Luc is the same. The warmth is seeping into my bones, making me sleepy and shutting down my mind. I want to fall asleep and never wake up again, but I can't. I've got to stay awake!

Jean-Luc squeezes some shampoo into the palm of his hand and starts washing my hair. I don't want to relax, but I do, knowing I'll be clean in a few minutes. It's been ages since I washed my hair and I find myself leaning into the touch. Non, merde! I pull away from him and Jean-Luc lets me.

"Petit, I can' even see your hair color beneat' de dirt and blood in your hair. I'll be finished in minutes when you co-operate."

Knowing I'm too weak to fight him, I let him wash my hair. Then he grabs the soap and works up a lather, washing the rest of my body. My stomach convulses in fear when he cleans my buttocks and then moves onto my groin. Tears make their way down my face, fearing he'll hurt me, but Jean-Luc pulls back to collect some fluffy towels. He didn't try anything! I can't believe he didn't try anything!

"Can you stand on your own, chile?" Jean-Luc unfolds the towels.

I manage to push myself to my feet and although I'm wobbly I stand on my own. Jean-Luc wraps the warm and fluffy towels around my shivering body and dries my skin. After drying my hair as well, he buries me in a warm robe and then lifts me again. Why is he carrying me around?

Jean-Luc walks down the corridor and I try to memorize the way out, but my mind isn't lucid. I feel warm and comfortable, almost trance-like. Henri opens a door and Jean-Luc moves inside. Oh, there's a four poster bed with a million warm blankets on top of it. Jean-Luc puts me in its center and covers me with the warm blankets. Mon Dieu, is this heaven? The shivers grow worse and I move deeper beneath the blankets, curling up in a tight ball. I'm warm! I'm warm again!

"We should let de petit sleep for now," Jean-Luc says. "I'll wake him up in a few hours so he can eat wit' us. He looks starved."

"He's probably one of dose street kids dat roam de streets. Tante's been talkin' about donatin' money to de shelters."

Henri makes sure the blankets are tucked around me. Something funny and intensely frightening is happening; I'm beginning to trust them! My instincts warn against it, but I can't help it. Feeling warm and secure I allow myself to drift off into sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Feeling comfortably warm, I wonder where I am. The last thing I remember is wanting to let go and stop fighting the cold. What happened after that? I crack one eye half open, and stare in wonder at my surroundings. Where am I? In a big four poster bed, tucked away beneath warm and soft blankets. Sitting up, my head reels, but I feel amazingly fine. My stomach growls and I wish it would shut up. I won't be eating for hours. First I've got to steal some money.

I consider leaving the bed, but I want to hold on to this warmth and rest my back against the head board, dragging the blankets with me. I need to remember what happened! In the distance I hear two voices and the memories return. Jean-Luc and Henri. The two men took me in, filled up their bathtub and then put me in this warm bed. Why? What do they expect in return?

That's it! I need to leave this house before they can state their demands, but where are my clothes? Well, I'm not so sure one can call them clothes, rags is more like it! I don't see them anywhere and grow scared. I'm only wearing a robe and I can't leave the house dressed like that! I need shoes and a warm coat to survive the cold! Panicking, I cling to the blankets for warmth and safety.

"Ah, you're awake," Jean-Luc says, appearing in the doorway.

I get a better look at him now. The suit is gone and he's wearing a heavy robe. His hair is tangled and it looks like he just woke up himself.

"Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes. You must be hungry, petit."

I nod my head, unsure what to do next. "Merci, m'sieur," I choke out in the end.

"Can' let you freeze to deat' like dat."

Jean-Luc gives me a long stare and I crumble beneath his intense glance. Huddled beneath the blankets, I'm too afraid to hope he means well. He'll state his price; take what he figures I owe him. It's foolish to expect otherwise.

"Wash up and den join us in de kitchen," Jean-Luc says softly. "Den we'll find you some clot'es."

"Merci." I need to get out of here! I can't stay! Jean-Luc leaves and I crawl out of the bed. My legs give out beneath me and I collapse onto the floor. The cold, the malnourishment and pure exhaustion finally got to me.

"Here, let me help."

When did Jean-Luc come back? His hands slip beneath my neck and knees and he lifts me in his arms.

"You need to eat, chile."

That's true. I haven't eaten in days. As he carries me downstairs I try to take in my surroundings. Precious paintings and sculptures decorate his home and I wonder why a rich man like he is taking care of a street rat like me. The smell of food makes my nose itch and I stare at the bacon and eggs, waffles, fruit and croissants that fill the kitchen table. Jean-Luc puts me down in one of the chairs and I remain motionless, too intimidated to reach for the food. It's their food, not mine.

"Here, hot chocolate milk." Henri puts the drink on the kitchen table.

For me? Is that hot coco for me? Impossible! I can only stare as the two men fill their plates with food and start eating. Slowly, I curl my fingers around the hot mug and relish its warmth. I'm scared to let go, afraid they will take the hot drink away from me. As I finally sip, shivers of contentment travel through my body.

"Aren't you hungry, chile?" Henri asks, pointing at the plate in front of me. "Here, let me." He stuffs the plate with croissants, waffles and fruit and then pushes it across the table.

"For me?" My gaze travels from one man to the other. I can't believe they'll let me share their meal!

"Oui, for you, petit," Jean-Luc confirms, while sipping his coffee. "What's your name?"

"Remy..." I picked the name myself from a book I once read. The Antiquary never told me if I had a name, only calling me boy, and I made one up myself once I hit the streets.

"Remy... what were you doing outside in de cold?" Jean-Luc asks in a concerned tone.

How dumb are they? "Tryin' to survive."

"We should contact your parents so dey can come and get you." Henri exchanges a worried look with Jean-Luc.

"Don' have parents, m'sieur. Am alone." I curl my fingers around one croissant, stare at it and then push it into my mouth. Oh, it's delicious! Jean-Luc and Henri laugh, but I can tell it's a sad smile. "Merci for de warm bed and de food, mais I promise I'll be gone once I get my clot'es back. Will move away from your home, won' die on your doorstep." The laughter dies and I look up at them, seeing clenched jaws and undecipherable expressions.

"Père, de petit doesn' have parents..."

Jean-Luc nods his head. "We've plenty of room."

What are they talking about? Helplessly, I squirm on my chair, wondering what's going on in their heads.

"Petit, Remy, would you like to stay wit' us?" Jean-Luc's firm tone tells me he's serious.

"I don' know, m'sieur. I ain' dat kind of boy... don' sell my body for food..." Now they'll kick me out, but that's okay. I'm warm and my belly's full. I can survive for another few days.

Jean-Luc's expression grows furious and I shrink in the chair, trying to make myself as small as possible. "Please don' beat me..." I raise my arms and hold them in front of my face, trying to protect me. I've no idea how they will react to me saying no.

Jean-Luc's body trembles. "Remy, Henri and I aren' like dat! Merde! I would never force myself on a chile!" He's rambling, cursing in Cajun and gets to his feet to pace the room.

Suddenly, Henri's hand covers mine and I flinch beneath the touch.

"Petit, you were hurt in de past, non?"

"Oui," I mumble, puzzled, and meet Henri's eyes. "Dere's always a price."

"Not at de LeBeau household," Henri says determinedly and looks at his father.

"Remy, you don' have to be scared," Jean-Luc whispers, while sitting on his heels in front of me. "It's Christmas and de bon Dieu brought you to my doorstep for a reason. Stay and let me take care of you."

"Why?" He's too close and I move about on my chair. Jean-Luc seems to understand and gets to his feet. He takes his former seat again and stares at me.

"I'm sorry, Remy..."

His remark puzzles me, but I dismiss it. Why would he feel sorry? He doesn't even know me! "Merci, m'sieur, mais I don' t'ink I should stay."

Jean-Luc seems lost in thought. "Let me show you somet'in' and den I'll ask you again." He extends his hand and rises from the chair. "Take my hand, petit."

I don't know why I place my hand in his, but I do and follow him back to the salon where the Christmas tree is sitting majestically in the center of the room. Jean-Luc guides me closer to it and then sits cross legged in front of it. I follow his example and sit down as well.

"I'm offerin' you a home, Remy."

Are Jean-Luc's eyes swimming? Non, can't be. I cock my head to have a closer look at his eyes. There are tears swimming in them! Looking at the Christmas tree I wonder what it means, having a home, having a place to stay. "What's de price?"

"No price..." Jean-Luc licks his lips.

"Can' believe you, m'sieur. Dere's always a price."

Jean-Luc's growing frustrated. "Den I want you to be de best son a man can have."

I can't argue with him. I want this too badly. I might regret making this decision later, but right now I want to stay here, with Jean-Luc and Henri. The Christmas lights are twinkling, as if they are welcoming me home. "I'd love to stay, m'sieur."

Jean-Luc raises his arms and I surprise myself by flinging myself at him, letting them close around me, holding me close. "Noël joyeux," I whisper, taken aback because I feel so safe and sheltered in his arms. I usually have a hard time letting men touch me, but Jean-Luc is different. I trust him.

"Dis is your home, petit," Henri says, standing near the doorway. "I always wanted a petit frère."

Having a family all of a sudden feels surreal and all I can do is hold on to Jean-Luc LeBeau. Dis is the first Christmas present I ever got and it's also the best. "Merci, m'sieur..." Privately, I vow to never disappoint this man.

The end.

December 2001