A Heart Full of Shadows
by
Ascian



Note: I strongly suggest reading the previous stories in my Earth Arc series just so you know what's going on. But, if you don't want to do that, here's a really short summary. A new woman, Anne, joins the team, with powers that allow her to speak to trees. When Generation X visits the X-Men, she discovers she can communicate with Penance, who consequently joins the team. Gambit becomes her mentor and best friend, and he begins the process of healing her spirit. The last part is all you really need to know to understand this story.

Disclaimer: Gambit, Penance, and related characters belong to Marvel. Anne belongs to me.




. . . If there is a night dark enough
to hide me, hide me,
if there is a light, a hope,
magnificent sun that shines inside me,
give me the joy to live
that is not yet there. . .
--Lyrics to "Miserere".



The city rose above her, black except for pinpoints of light that twinkled from the windows of skyscrapers towering from their sites in the business district. They were located some ten to twenty blocks away, a distance that barely diminished their size or Penance's wonder that such structures could exist. This was her third trip back to New York in a month, and the city still filled her with awe. Of course, it was impossible not to feel a certain amount of tension, as well. There were so many people in this city, and crowds still gave her difficulties--she could just imagine the hordes of people that would be moving about uptown. Christmas shopping no doubt, despite the fact that it was only the first week of November. Bloomingdales was already lit with gold lights and beautiful trim.

Penance hadn't been in any of those fancy department stores yet, but she had seen commercials on television, advertising "the hot gifts of the season". Her lips curled back in a smile as she remembered what those advertisers thought made the perfect gift. Crystal vases, scarves and boots, electronics. . . Times had been when a hot meal and the presence of her friends would have been enough. It still was, as far as she was concerned, although her life was. . . different now. She shivered, stilling the memories in her head. Now was not the time to get lost in the past, not when she had so much to be thankful for. Being in America, having a home and friends, enough to eat. Not to mention the luxury of going to the city, to New York of all places!

Penance turned her attention back to her surroundings. Not much sound here except for her quiet breathing, and the soft chatter of two prostitutes who leaned against a light post a block down the street. The air, wet and rain-scented, clung to her flaring nostrils and she lifted her head, savoring the sensation of a gentle breeze on her cheek. This place was a graveyard of gutted buildings and broken streets where cars hardly ever drove anymore. In some ways, it was reminiscent of her old life, which, despite her memories, gave her an odd sense of comfort. This part of the city, with its desperate, lonely, hungry air, she could understand.

Penance moved from her concealment and scrabbled down the ill-lit street, drawing and curling shadows around her body. Swathed in a lightweight black cloak that Hank had replicated for her, she flew through the abandoned district, blue eyes sharp. Wind pressed itself into her face, along with the scent of rotting garbage and sewage. Ahead and to her left, steam puffed up through manholes, and beyond the roiling mist Penance could make out a golden pinpoint of flame, and hunched bodies surrounding its warmth. She carefully avoided the homeless men and women, skirting the edges of light. She had turned off her image inducer on a whim, not feeling the need to use it when she could conceal herself so easily. There were more people in this area though, and her gloved fingers drifted to the small device belted at her waist.

A boot sole scraped pavement. Penance forgot the image-inducer, and pressed herself against the crumbled concrete of an aged building. Her body sifted the shadows around her, until only her eyes glinted softly from the depths of darkness. Her fingertips dug lightly into the stone of the wall behind her as she waited. There was a flash of light, a momentary burn that illuminated a ruggedly handsome face. Penance smelled cigarette smoke.

"You goin' t'give up, petite?"

Penance stifled a grin. She hadn't run out of tricks just yet. She made no move to let him know he had been heard, and an instant later she shrugged the shadows from her shoulders and began to race down the street, black cloak streaming behind her. Gambit flicked away his cigarette, laughing silently. He knew she wouldn't give up that easily. He waited for two minutes, counting the seconds in his head, and when they were up he stepped away from the wall he had been leaning against, eyes bright and searching.

Hide-and-go-seek was what the two of them were playing tonight, except Penance was supposed to do all the hiding. Next time their roles would be reversed, but Gambit wanted to make sure she had this most basic of skills. It was all well and good to be able to fight, but there were times when it was better to run and hide.

She was getting better at concealing herself from him, he had to give her that. Between the Danger Room and these outings into the city, Gambit could see Penance's skills at stealth improving. Not only that, she was growing more confident, despite the anxiety he could sense every time they left the Mansion. He smiled, skirting a pile of broken glass. The potential for disaster--or whatever she would consider disastrous--loomed above her head whenever she stepped beyond the protective boundaries set by the presence of the X-Men. Penance was strong, though. She had proven that to him beyond a doubt, and these jaunts into the city only made her stronger. Happier, too.

He slid from shadow to shadow, slinking down the street. His eyes glowed slightly, night vision penetrating the darkness of unlit alleys and debris littered alcoves. Nothing. Not a whisper of her presence. Finally out of the corner of his eye he caught movement, and casually swiveled. Penance--or one of the local tenants--he told himself, confident he was right. Yet, except for a battered car parked at the side of the road and bits of trash littering the sidewalk, nothing was there. Gambit frowned, the hairs on the back of his neck rising. He had seen someone.

More movement to his right, but this time Gambit was not so blasé. He swept into a crouch, trench coat swirling around his legs as he withdrew his bo staff. The metal rod expanded instantly, smooth surface glinting dully in the dim light of the street. There--where the shadows moved--

Gambit heaved a sigh of relief, though the tension did not leave his body. Penance. Just ahead of him, no doubt waiting in the shadows for some hint that he was still on her trail. It was good to have her in his sights again, he thought. He made another quick scan of his surroundings, and seeing no one, slowly eased himself into a standing position and cautiously made his way down the sidewalk.

Penance stirred slightly as he approached, and he wondered if she sensed that the game was over. She rose to her feet as he neared, and he caught a glimpse of one gloved hand escaping from the folds of her cloak to rest against the stone wall behind her.

The last thing he saw was her face, blue eyes large and full of shock and numb terror. Something fluttered at the edges of his spatial awareness, and Penance lunged towards him, mouth open in a silent cry--

She never made it to him.

***


Penance watched Gambit approach her, tensing as she noted his drawn weapon and the strained set of his mouth. She had felt more worried than pleased when the thief had not found her, and had retraced her steps. There was something in the air--a sudden stillness--a preternatural quiet that was not normal for a city, even for a district as near death as this one. It was good to be frightened of silence. So she watched with a mixture of apprehension and relief as he neared her, standing and digging her fingers into the wall. Surveyed the street for the danger that she felt and saw on his face.

It came from the shadows. Flowing, pouring from the pools of darkness gathered against the building and sidewalk--a shift, a step sideways into reality--to stand directly behind Gambit. Not an It, not--oh, God.

Emplate.

She was in chains again--already she could feel their weight dragging down on her limbs. The torture was knowing she could cut through them, but she was weak--too weak to lift her hands and slice through the metal that should have been as soft as butter to her fingers. And the darkness surrounded her in the cold, damp room. . . and he was coming again, hungry. . . always hungry. . .

Hungry for Gambit. She could see his hand reaching towards the back of her friend's neck, and the sight shook her to the core. She felt blind, her eyes bulging with fear and blurry with stress, but she lunged forward anyway, hoping to knock Gambit away from the gaping maw of Emplate's outstretched hand. She saw his eyes widen, the muscles of his shoulders bunching. She was so close--

She caught only the barest glimpse of the harpoon before it slammed into her side, and Penance struck the wall beside her with enough force to leave an imprint in the brick and concrete. She dimly heard the sound of metal clattering on the sidewalk as pain flooded her chest and ribs--she couldn't breathe--and her eyes. . . all she could make out were colors, and something dark drawing near--looming--

--and Gambit screamed.

The sound wound around her heart, tightening with a twist and yank. Faces flashed through her mind, images and memories of parents--her mother crying out, begging, until Penance wished she would stop--that the sounds would stop. Then they had, and the long silence that echoed in the darkness where her parents had hidden her was even worse. And Dimitri and Alexi's silence, their anger and shouts cut short--that had killed her again. Now there was Gambit...

She struggled to clear her head, fingers digging into the sidewalk. Stupid, she told herself, realizing that she still wore her gloves, which rendered her weapon-less. Could she get them off? She couldn't see Gambit--her eyes still weren't working properly--and she reached for the straps that bound her gloves to her uniform.

"I don't think so, girlie."

A large, black boot stamped down on her wrist, and slowly, methodically, began to grind her bone into the sidewalk. Penance shut her eyes against the pain, concentrating instead on Gambit. His screams had stopped, but she could hear him gasping weakly. Still alive, she told herself, repeating those two words over and over again. She had to get to him.

A new voice emerged from her right, low and angry. "Emplate, ya dumb fuck. We need him alive!"

The man pinning Penance's wrist chuckled darkly. "No Gambit, no girl. That's the deal, tube-face."

Penance twisted her head, her cheek pressed against the concrete. She couldn't see the face of the man holding her down, nor could she make out the one who had berated Emplate, though anyone who would do that was either crazy or very, very dangerous. Penance's eyes flickered to Gambit. He lay sprawled on the sidewalk, his face turned away from her. Emplate hovered over him, hand still latched on the back of the man's neck. Swathed in black, breathing tube hanging from his face, he was exactly as she remembered. Emplate caught her looking at him, and they matched gazes. For a brief moment, his eyes glowed red, and then he turned away from her to look up at the men.

"You can tell Sinister that the deal is off."

Penance heard a sharp intake of breath from the man above her, and a low growl emerged from the shadows to her right. The pressure suddenly disappeared from her wrist, but Penance remained very still, hoping that the man would take another step away from her. She'd act if she had to, but she didn't have much room.

Emplate slowly stood, breathing tube swaying slightly against his black robes. He held playing cards in his hand. Once again, a red glow flickered to life in his eyes. Penance froze, eyes locked on her ex-captor. She could see it in his face, the way the gray tones of his skin had lightened. These two men were stupid--or too cocky. They had let Emplate feed on Gambit for too long. They weren't just facing an energy vampire any longer.

The man nearest her took another step away, and this time Penance looked up at his back. A brace of knives and several short harpoons hung from his broad shoulders. He reached for one, and the metal began to glow with a silver light the instant his fingers touched the smooth, metallic surface. She heard another growl, and watched as his companion stepped from the shadows. A tremor run through her body as she recognized the hard, chiseled face framed by a wild cuff of blond fur.

Sabretooth unclenched his fists, claws glinting dangerously in the faint light of the street. "Sinister thought you'd double-cross us, 'Plate," he rasped. "Can't say I'm sorry. Just gives me an excuse ta gut ya."

Emplate lifted his shoulders, and stepped over Gambit's inert body. "I do not believe that you will find me so easy to defeat," he said imperiously.

Sabretooth sneered, flexing his fingers. "Hear that, Harpoon? He thinks he's gonna walk all over us."

Harpoon chuckled, hefting his weapon and taking another step away from Penance. There was little warning, just a moment's look that passed between himself and Sabretooth. A heartbeat later, Harpoon flicked his wrist and sent his charged weapon hurtling towards Emplate. Penance watched, unmoving. She could not help herself, even though she knew she should take the distraction offered her. The harpoon whistled through the air straight towards Emplate's head. At the last possible moment, he calmly sidestepped the oncoming weapon, energy flaring sun-hot from the cards in his hand. Even as the harpoon clattered harmlessly on the street behind him, Emplate drew back his arm and released the charged cards in a scattered pattern aimed at the feet of the two Marauders. Not killing blows, Penance knew. No, Emplate would want them alive, stunned. Ripe for feeding.

This time, Penance did not hesitate. Head swimming with pain--she numbly noted the harpoon on the ground beside her--she clambered to her feet, flinging herself towards Gambit. The others ignored her, Emplate having moved well away into the middle of the street. Sabretooth howled with fury, but Penance did not look at him. She kept her attention focused on the unconscious man lying on the sidewalk, bo staff at his side. His chest still rose and fell, but his face was a deathly shade of pale. Penance crouched beside him, and grabbed his left arm. Yanking sharply, feeling the muscles in her back pull and groan, she heaved him up high enough for her to shove her shoulder under his arm. Her chest and side screamed with pain.

She could not straighten her body with Gambit's dead weight pulling down her right side, so she began to shuffle down the street, bent at the waist. Step by step, she moved them away from the battle. She didn't try to look behind, to see how Sabretooth and Harpoon were faring against Emplate. She didn't care. Only one side would win, and both promised death and pain. She had to get herself and Gambit away, as fast as possible. Eyes wide, instincts screaming for her to drop her burden and run, Penance finally reached the street corner and rounded it. The sounds of battle instantly dimmed. She could still hear mingled shouts and explosions, but she felt somewhat comforted by the now muffled noise. It meant that their departure hadn't yet been noticed.

But that would not last for long.

Still shuffling down the street, Penance cast wildly for ideas on where to hide. The trouble was that Sabretooth could track them--if he won, that is--but so could Emplate. It was too much to hope that Harpoon would be the only one left standing. Penance tightened her grip around Gambit's waist, the muscles in her arm screaming in protest. She thought she heard him groan, but the sound was faint, just a flutter of breath between his lips. She forced herself to step faster. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a thick cloud of rising steam. The source was a long grate just beyond the mouth of an alley. Penance stumbled over to it, and carefully lay Gambit on the ground. She stole a quick glance at his face, gently resting one gloved finger on his cheek. He looked so pale, his cheeks gaunt as though he suffered from some terrible hunger.

Penance swallowed her worry, grappling for the grill. Pain flared in her ribs, and she sucked in her breath. Trying to ignore the embracing agony, she pulled at the iron bars. It took several tries before they budged, and in that time, Penance noted with no small amount of terror that she could no longer hear the battle between Emplate and the Marauders. With an extra surge of adrenaline, she yanked the cover off the steaming hole, and pushed it to one side. Grabbing Gambit under the arms, she dragged him to the edge. Not a long drop, she told herself, staring down into the misty darkness. I think.

Well, there was no time to worry. Movements clumsy, Penance lay on her stomach and grabbed tight hold of Gambit's wrists. With several sharp heaves, she pulled him into the hole, his weight almost taking her over the edge. She managed to hold on though, and lowered his limp body feet first. When she had extended her arms as far as she could, she let him go. An instant later, she heard a soft thump. Wasting no time, Penance lowered herself in after him. The fall was remarkably short, and she landed in a soft crouch, her feet splashing smelly water. Her eyes easily adjusted to the darkness, and Penance scrambled to Gambit's side and once again shoved his arm over her shoulder. Moving in the opposite direction of the moving water, Penance headed up the tunnel. The smells were overwhelming here, and she could hear things moving all around her. Rats. Nothing to be afraid of.

Finally, she found was she was looking for. A small, narrow shelf, tucked off the main tunnel. The water was deeper here, and Penance unceremoniously dropped Gambit into the foul smelling run-off and sewage, coating everything but his face, and then doing that part of his body with her gloved fingers. She did not know if this would help to hide his scent, but it was worth a try. She dragged him the final few feet to the concrete shelf, and shoved him onto it. As his weight left her shoulders, Penance felt her knees begin to give. Before she could lose it completely, she took one final look at her friend's face. Closing her eyes against the pain, she touched his cheek. So many friends lost--sometimes it seemed she had spent her entire life alone, with just brief intervals of happiness, always stolen away the moment she believed they were real. Penance shook herself, and backed away from Gambit's hiding place. She couldn't stay here; it was too dangerous for him. Emplate would find her no matter where she hid, and the others would find Gambit if she didn't do something about it.

Shucking off her gloves, Penance tucked them into her belt. She flexed her fingers and with a practiced swipe, cut the laces of her shoes and stepped out of them. Toes cutting into the concrete of the sewer, she began to run back the way she had come--back towards the surface.

***


Gambit felt Penance touch his cheek, and he wanted to call out to her as he heard her back away. His throat wouldn't work though, and no matter how much he willed them to, his lips would not part for the one word that would bring her back. It was too dangerous up there! Too dangerous without someone to watch her back. There was a good reason, he realized suddenly, why he had always preferred to work alone and without a partner. No one to worry about but himself. Gambit didn't know how Wolverine stood it, bringing Jubilee along on his "solo" missions. Just a petite belle, thrust into the midst of psychopaths. But he knew that the two of them wouldn't have it any other way, and he realized that he was quickly beginning to feel the same about Penance.

Who else was up d'ere? He asked himself, struggling to sit up. His body resisted, and a low groan escaped through his clenched teeth. An' what hit me? Merde! I need t'get out of here!

But he was still lying on the concrete shelf when, on the surface, Penance met up with Sabretooth.

***


She pulled the grate back into place, and with a quick glance to make sure she had eliminated any glaring signs of their passage, took off towards the place where Emplate and the Marauders had first found them, and where, hopefully, they would still be fighting. As she approached though, it was obvious that the battle had stopped. No shouts and cries of fury and pain, no explosions or bursts of bright light. And as she rounded the street corner that hid the scene from sight, she was faced with an empty darkness.

Well, not so empty. Penance approached cautiously, but did not try to hide herself. She wanted to be seen, just not taken off guard. There, surrounded by rubble from gouged craters in the road, lay Harpoon. Penance stopped only a few feet away from his still body. He was dead. His eyes stared unblinking at the sky, and the left side of his body had been blown away. The smell of blood was overpowering, and raised too many memories for Penance's taste. She backed quickly away, stifling the familiar images of her childhood and shook the sight of Harpoon's body from her mind.

"Come back for more, frail?"

Penance whirled, heart hammering in her throat. Sabretooth stood behind her, thick arms folded across his massive chest. His body was covered in blood, but he stood straight, with not a sign of injury. He watched her without blinking--like a cat--and a small, mocking smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.

"Smart, taking the Cajun away like ya did. O' course, I coulda found ya both, but I think ya knew that. Came back to lead me in circles, thinkin' I'd follow and forget the swamp rat." Sabretooth shook his head, eyes narrowing into slits. His arms dropped to his sides. "Well," he hissed. "I ain't in the mood for playing right now, so ya better tell me where ya stashed him. An' then maybe, I'll kill ya fast. As a reward."

Not able to give a reply, Penance simply stood and stared at him. Sabretooth's face darkened, and with a snarl of rage, he launched himself at her. As fast as he was, Penance still managed to throw herself to the side, but not before he landed a swipe along her thigh. His claws did not break her skin, but the contact rattled her. Still, she forced herself to pivot on her heel and before the Marauder could turn, she launched herself at him, springing off the ground. She had to end this quickly.

Penance landed on Sabretooth's back, arms wrapping around his neck. His bellow of surprise quickly turned to pain as her bare feet sliced through his hips and upper thighs. Her big toe hit a bone and caught. He howled, back arching. Penance slashed at his face, digging her thumbs into his eye sockets, and he screamed as her fingernails pierced his eyelids, cutting through the soft tissue of his eyeballs. He thrashed wildly, and Penance tightened her grip around his head and shoulders. He tried to claw her off, reaching blindly behind him, but all his hands could close on was her hair, and Penance jerked her head sharply. His screams reverberated in her ears, and he tore his hands away. White bone peeked through the torn flesh.

She could already see parts of his face knitting back together, and Penance swallowed her revulsion and merely worked harder at bringing Sabretooth down. His body finally gave out, and the man staggered to his knees, and then fell flat on his stomach. His face crashed into the concrete with a sickening crack.

Penance fell off of him immediately, rolling away. Her breath came in great, rolling gasps that seared her lungs. Her eyes burned. She couldn't stop staring at him, at the great pulp of flesh and fur that still moved weakly. She had done that. She had--she had---

And a part of her felt good.

But it was a very small part, and Penance pushed it away. She'd done what she'd come to do--take Sabretooth out of the action. The Marauder was wrong--she had never intended to run. She had come to fight. Fight to win, and she had. She had just never imagined...

Shaking, Penance stumbled to her feet. Emplate was still out there. It was possible that Sabretooth had managed to seriously injure him, but she doubted it. She certainly didn't believe he had been killed. With a backward glance at Sabretooth, whose wounds were already beginning to knit together, she ran down the street back to where she had hidden Gambit. She knew that she should not return to him, but she couldn't help herself. It's to make sure that Emplate hasn't found him, a voice reasoned. Penance could not deceive herself, though. She needed to be with her friend, to be convinced that he was still alive and that what she had just done hadn't been in vain. That she hadn't just sold a part of her humanity for no good reason at all. And keeping Gambit safe was a good reason. She had failed everyone else in her life. She was not going to let him down.

***


His eyes were open by the time she got back. Emplate was no where in sight, and Penance had a sudden feeling that he would not return. At least, not for a little while. Perhaps, she reasoned hopefully, Sabretooth and Harpoon had managed to really hurt him.

"Petite," Gambit began, relief shining on his face. As she approached him though, his face clouded with uncertainty. "You're covered in blood."

Penance swallowed heavily, tucking away the bad memory like she did all of the others. Folding them into a small, dark space in her mind where they occasionally gathered in her heart, fluttering like shadows. In answer to Gambit's unspoken question, she shrugged and reached towards the concrete wall beside him, scratching out an explanation.

--fought sabretooth--

Gambit's face began to pale at the first three letters of the Marauder's name, and he turned deathly white when he read and reread her complete message.

"You won," he stated flatly, after a long moment. Penance nodded. Gambit licked his dry, cracked lips, and Penance could see his mind working furiously. Finally though, he met her eyes, and his gaze was a mixture of worry, sympathy, and fierce pride. "You done good, petite." He hesitated, and she knew he was taking stock of her blood soaked clothing. "Couldn' been easy," he continued softly. "You ever need t'talk...Gambit'll listen."

Penance's lips trembled as she smiled, and she carefully sat down beside her friend. The sounds and smells of the sewer rose up around them, and they remained still for a long time, surrounded by darkness. It was enough to hide from the world for a little bit, lost underground. It was more than enough, after this night.

***


Epilogue

***


"You failed me."

"You saw my injuries. Hell, I even have scars. Scars. With a damned healing factor to boot."

"You're telling me she eviscerated most of your major organs, and practically tore the flesh from your bones. A mere girl. Not only that, she had the ingenuity and strength to escape with the quarry, and the resolve to come back to face you. Alone."

The resulting silence was answer enough.

Sinister turned away from Sabretooth. After a long moment, a slow, thoughtful smile crossed his face. "No," he said. "You did not fail me, after all. You've done much better than bring me Gambit.

"You've found my new Marauder."



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