Motel

Gambit slips into the motel’s office firmly ignoring the two ferals trailing behind him. His sunglasses darken the flickering lights of the motel office.

“Hello. We’re lookin’ for a room.”

The man at the counter raises an eyebrow at the two men behind Gambit and Gambit gives an apologetic smile.

“Are my uncles fightin’ again? Im real sorry.”

He turns and stares them both down.

“Out. Parkin’ lot. Or I swear I will keep hidin’ my spare jerky.”

Sabretooth growls and trots out. Wolverine looks Gambit over and huffs.

“We all sleepin’ in the same rooms.”

“Yeah yeah. Get.”

Gambit turns back around and gives an apologetic smile.

“Sorry bout them. They’ll be quiet when they’re asleep, but its been a long drive.”

Gambit gives his best apologetic face through his own pounding head. The guy nods with a sympathetic look.

“My brother always got irritable on road trips. You got a long way to go?”

The man ask conversationally as he checks out a room to Gambit.

“Yeah. Bit of a cross-country trip. Seein’ some other family. Really wish we coulda done planes but my uncles can’t stand air travel. No stomach for it.”

The lies and smile are easy and the man nods with a laugh.

“I get that struggle. Need a third bed? The rooms only come with two, but we have a mobile one we can roll in. Won’t charge you for it.”

Gambit feels a rush of thankfulness, having planned to sleep on the floor.

“Merci. Thank you monsieur.”

The man nods and they finish sorting everything. He gets a key and a promise that the bed will be sent in a bit. He leaves and sees the two ferals on the ground, punching and kicking at each other.

Hells bells.

His shields shudder a bit at the pools of rage that flare and twist. He knows sleeping is going to suck horridly. Keeping shields up while sleeping is exhausting, ironically. Mostly when they are under assault like this. Back at the base, it never gets half this bad. He ignores the two for a moment and grabs his bag and trots to the door of the room.

“Hey! Shrimp, where you think you’re goin’?”

Sabretooth currently has Wolverine pinned to the parking lot pavement. Which looks… painful. Gambit sighs.

“The room. The room. You know, the thing I was payin’ for when inside? Come on Sabretooth.”

Gambit nods towards the door and Sabretooth hops up. Gambit grabs his arm as he unlocks the door and yanks the man to the bathroom.

“Wash off the blood. Now. Then I’ll sort out your dinner.”

Sabretooth clacks his teeth at the commands but Gambit ignores him completely. He gets a towel and trots outside again. Wolverine is getting up face screwed in an angry scowl. Blood drips down his face. Gambit approaches and offers the towel.

“Here.”

The feral blinks and takes the towel and wipes the already healing wounds.

“Thanks, kid. You good?”

Wolverine looks him over. Gambit shrugs.

“Just dandy. Come on, I got a room for us.”

Gambit juts his thumb behind him and turns to walk back.

“Hey. Kid.”

A hand gently touches his arm. Gambit flinches away from the casual touch.

“I’m fine.”

His voice is laced with venom and pain.

“Right. Alright.”

Wolverine backs off voice softening. Gambit closes his notes and pinches his nose. He breathes in and out deeply.

“You think you can go in and just sit on whatever bed that Sabretooth hasn’t claimed? Without screamin’ like preteen girls fightin’ over bargain bin fashion deals?”

A note of begging enters his tone. He hears Wolverine let out a breath.

“Sure kid.”

“Merci beaucoup.”

He whispers back and then walks to the room.

Both act pretty decent the rest of the night. Gambit gets them all food from the provided supplies and then curls up on his own cot after taking the pain medications that work with his mutation. Sleep comes instantly.

—

He wakes from a nightmare infused with rage and screaming. His head pounds and his hands crackle with power. It takes a moment to pull on his layers of coats. He slips out and swings up onto the roof. The moon stares down at him wearily and he slowly lowers his shields breathing the cold in.

It burns his lungs a bit. He holds up a card from his jacket and lets his powers dance along its surface, crackling and sparking. It lights on fire and crumbles in the wind. He pulls out another card. And then another. He breathes deeply. The cold hurts. But not as much of his shields being battered for hours like they had been in that car. The ferals both felt things so very very deeply. He lies there and closes his eyes. He stretches out his empathy, feeding on whatever scraps of positive emotions he finds in the immediate vicinity.

He seals himself back up and closes his eyes tighter. The moonlight rests on his cheeks, offering no warmth like the sunlight would have. He sighs softly and finds his body starting to slip back to sleep.

“Hey, shrimp. Trying to freeze to death?”

Sabretooth’s voice rings out. The man settles down beside him and Gambit sighs.

“Tryin’ to get a moment of stinkin’ piece. I’m tired Sabre’ooth.”

He slurs and huffs. A claw pokes his side.

“You’re not gonna be able to sleep here. I dont want to deal with a sick cajun.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

Gambit sits up and shivers. He does not like the idea of getting sick. He slips off the roof with Sabretooth and they reenter the hotel room. Sabretooth scrunches his nose and then moves the bed to the farthest end of the room away from the door, where Gambit would have to cross past the two other beds. Gambit shoots Sabretooth a glare, trying to puzzle out the why. But Sabretooth is already curled back up on his own bed.

Gah, he does not have the energy to fight with Sabretooth about this weird move.

He slips onto the cot and resettles, letting sleep slide over him. His breathing slowly evens out and he tries to focus on anything but the r

eality that he is going to have to face the next morning.