The Wanting Comes in Waves

If there was one thing Nyx missed from her apartment, it was her sheets. They were old, almost threadbare, but were softened with age. The sheets on her bed at the X-Mansion were new and stiff, and despite Nyx's repeated efforts at washing them, she knew deep down that the only way to soften them was with time.

So there she lay, in her stiff sheets, willing herself to rise from the bed. She glimpsed at the clock for the first time after she woke up and wished she hadn't. The clock blinked at 4:30 AM, even though, considering the sunlight from outside, it was at least nine.

Nyx tried to put the flashing red numbers in the back of her mind as she went through her morning routine. Shower, don't think of red flashing numbers. Dress, don't think of flashing numbers. Dry her hair and put on the bare minimum of makeup, still don't think of the numbers. Unfortunately, when someone tries determinedly not to think of something, the thought creeps into the mind nonetheless.

She entered the kitchen after getting ready and headed straight for the coffee machine. She poured the caffeinated liquid into her cup until it was on the brink of overflowing, and took a quick sip before bringing the mug to her nose and savoring the scent of the brew.

"This tastes delicious," she said to no one in particular.

"You like it?" Emma asked as she walked into the room. "It's my special blend."

"Well you need to make it more often, Emma. I'll want this stuff every morning."

Emma smiled at her. "That's wonderful, but seeing as I usually don't wait up until lunch time, don't get used to it."

Nyx sighed and shook her head. "Way to ruin my morning."

"Don't be so dramatic," Emma teased at she drew the ingredients for scrambled eggs out of the refrigerator.

"No famous Cajun breakfast this morning?" Nyx raised an eyebrow as she looked at the ingredients.

"Guess not, I expected something when I came back down here but it doesn't seem that he's woken up."

"Well damn, this morning's all wrong. One-time delicious coffee and no Cajun breakfast, what's a girl to think?"

Emma smirked at Nyx. "I'm sure some of us will miss Remy's cooking more than others," she said and gave Nyx a pointed look.

Nyx could feel the heat rise in her cheeks in spite of herself. "I haven't the slightest clue what you're insinuating, Miss Frost."

"Oh sure," Emma replied. "Not a clue, huh? I'm not a stupid girl, I see things."

"Yeah, well, stop seeing things. There's not a damn thing to see," Nyx added quietly and stared into her mug. She felt a indescribable twinge in her stomach at the mention of Remy. As she rose to leave the kitchen, perhaps a Danger Room exercise to clear her mind, the lights flickered. Nyx stopped instantly, grasping her mug in a death grip even though it was nearly scalding her hands. "What was that?"

Emma turned from the stove to look at the lights above, then at Nyx. "Guess some aftershocks of that blackout."

"What blackout?" Nyx asked stiffly.

"You haven't heard? It's all over the news. New York and the tri-state were without power practically all night. Lights didn't come back on until five this morning."

Nyx's coffee cup fell to the ground and shattered, hot brown liquid staining the floor as she rushed out of the room.

"Where are you going?" Emma called to her.

"Danger Room!"

"And I have to clean this shit up?"



Remy didn't hear his door fly open that morning, but he did feel slim fingers shaking him.

"Wake up!" he heard Nyx demand.

Remy just groaned and rolled over, bunching the blankets under his chin.

"Dammit, Cajun! It's ten in the morning, seize the day!"

"Haven't y' heard you 'posed to rest wit' a hangover?" he mumbled, as if on queue the empty bourbon bottle fell from his bed and clattered to the floor.

"You mean to tell me," Nyx started as she sat on the bed and continued to prod Remy into consciousness, "that the great Gambit is out of commission by a simple hangover?"

Remy rolled over and looked at Nyx through sleep-ridden eyes. "An' what exactly did y' have in mind, chere?"

She smirked. "Just some sparring."



They had been in the Danger Room for no more than thirty minutes and already Nyx was dripping with sweat. Instead of a projected danger scenario, there was only a looming room with silver walls, two bodies seemingly dancing around each other.

Remy advanced Nyx again quickly, hardly giving time for her to recover from the somersault she executed to dodge his last jab. He swung his left leg high, aiming at Nyx's cheek, and it nearly made contact, but she jerked her head back at the last second to avoid the blow. Remy recovered quickly, however, and advanced towards Nyx, his goal being to pin her against the wall he had strategically backed her into.

"I'm confused," he said as he sent a right jab her way, which she again parried at the last minute. "I didn't t'ink y' were a close combat type o' girl."

"Well," Nyx began roughly, being out of breathe, "I figured," she began and then paused as she parried another blow, "I figured I might as well start practicing."

After this comment Nyx changed tactics and went on the offensive, spinning in a high kick that caught Remy's shoulder and sent him reeling back. She smirked as she rolled out of the kick, crouching and spinning her leg toward the back of Remy's knees to knock him off his feet. He jumped, though, so Nyx quickly got to her feet and sent a blow towards his left cheek.

He caught her wrist so she whirled her body around to loosen his grip. She jerked her wrist back and ducked again to dodge another high kick. Remy was quicker, however, for he spun around and crouched, grabbing Nyx's ankles and pulling her feet out from under her. She hit the ground with sharp thud and he wasted no time in covering her body with his, immobilizing her.

He smirked at her as he pinned her wrists above her head. "Give?"

She frowned back and him and tried squirming, but his body was successfully keeping her from budging. "Alright, alright, I give!"

Remy only smirked again and rolled off of her. Seated on the ground, he turned to look at Nyx as she lifted herself up and sat Indian-style beside him. "But really, why the sudden change in tactics?"

Nyx gave him a serious look. "Maybe using my powers is the coward's way of fighting," she paused then and broke his gaze, preferring to looking down, inspecting her nails. "Maybe they're too dangerous to use," she added as a quiet afterthought.

"Nyx," Remy said, using a firm tone that called her attention back to his face. "Y' havin' trouble wit' your powers?"

Nyx's eyes widened. "No, of course not! And even if I was, it's my business."

Remy shot her an incredulous look. "You're wit' the X-Men now, chere. Xavier can help y'."

"Well maybe I don't want his help," Nyx challenged.

"Chere..."

"No, Remy. I can take care of myself and that's what I intend to do." With that she rose to her feet and marched out of the Danger Room.



How dare he? Nyx thought to herself as she stalked out of the Danger Room. Nyx was always the one to watch out for herself, hell, there hadn't been anyone else to do that job since she was twelve. And then there was Remy. Remy, who insinuated that she couldn't handle whatever was wrong now on her own. Remy, who acted as if it was just that simple to bend over backwards, to admit defeat and go crawling to others with your own problems. That's what he was saying, wasn't it? That Nyx couldn't handle herself and that she needed the help of others. The thought alone insulted her. Asking for help showed vulnerability, being vulnerable showed weakness. Didn't Remy know that? He was a thief, after all. Just like her. The only person a thief could rely on was himself (or herself.) If a job went haywire, there was no one that was going to be there to fall back on. Thieving made you self-reliant, thieving made you strong. Nyx thought Remy understood that.

But now, here she was, storming out of the room at his asinine suggestion. She sighed as grabbed towels from her room and headed to the shower. Her muscles ached from sparring with Remy and the warm water coating her body helped to relieve tension. The steam poured over the door of the shower and started filling the room, creating a dull drowsiness in Nyx. Courteous of the yesterday's night terrors, she had minimal sleep and the warmth of the shower exhausted her. Her eyelids grew heavy and she yawned. She washed the shampoo and got out of the shower, quickly toweling off.

Maybe just a little nap, she thought to herself as she lazily slipped a pair of sweats and a t-shirt on. Maybe the nightmares were just a one time thing. She crawled into bed and curled up in the covers, peacefully falling asleep.



Remy sighed and ran his hand across his forehead to remove a thin layer of sweat, leaving a line of black grease streaked across his face.

"Can y' toss me the sprocket wrench?" he called to Logan as he leaned back from his motorcycle and took a swig from his soda.

The lights flickered briefly causing Remy to look up. The wrench Logan had just tossed to him hit his chest and clattered to the floor, but he ignored it.

"What was that?" he asked Logan, eyes still set on the lights above.

"The lights? Probably aftershocks from the power outage last night," Logan replied gruffly, not taking his eyes off the tire he was changing.

"Or somet'ing else," Remy said as he retrieved the wrench.

Logan turned to look at Remy. "You know somethin' I don't, Gumbo?"

"I t'ink Nyx maybe be havin' some trouble wit' her powers," Remy said and shook his head. "She tryin' to avoid it, though."

"You sayin' she may have caused that outage? There's no way, it cover nearly a hundred miles."

"Who knows?" Remy replied. "I'm gonna go check on her," he said and stood up from his bike.

"Alright, but I think you're over reactin'," Logan called over his shoulder as Remy left the garage.

He entered the elevator and rode it from the garage in the basement up to the third floor. The steel doors slid open just as the power to the house flared and then gave out. Remy blinked and his eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness as he quickened his step, heading in the direction of Nyx's room.

A sharp scream pierced the air as he rounded the corner and he immediately broke into a run.

"Professor!" he heard Kitty screech from down the hall. "Storm! Somebody help!" she continued to yell from the open door of her room.

"What's wrong?" Remy demanded as he reached her.

Kitty jumped at the sound of his voice but turned and grasped his arms nonetheless. "It's Nyx. I can't wait her up, I can't reach her. I don't know what's wrong," she blurted anxiously.

"Calm down, chat. Show Remy what's wrong," he said soothingly as she removed her hands from their tight grip on his arms.

Kitty took her trembling hand in his and led him in the room, pointing at Nyx's bed but not going close to it. Remy's eyes landed on the bed and the girl lying on it, and his breathe caught in his throat.

Nyx was still asleep, but a thick vibrating screen of black radiated from her body. Tendrils shaped like scythes, and just as sharp, flicked wantonly around her body. When one cut against the bed, the blankets split and the stuffing of the mattress slipped out from the gash in it. The tendrils continued to slice the air, ripping and gashing any substance they met, from cuts in the wall to the lap that cleaved in half and clattered to the floor, the bulb breaking and glass covering the carpet.

"Go get the Professor, chat!" Remy told her. "I'll stay here and try to wake her up."

"You can't even get close to her, Remy!" Kitty cried.

"Just go!" he said. When she left the room he turned back to Nyx, trying to spy an opening to the blackness to no avail.

"Nyx!" he called to her instead. "I know y' in there chere, just wake up," he half-yelled.

"What's going on, Gambit?" Remy heard Xavier's steady voice as he hovered into the room.

"I t'ink Nyx has lost control of her powers, Professor. But she's still sleepin'."

The Professor nodded, closing his eyes as he put his forefingers to his temple. He focused and entered Nyx's mind. His eyes adjusted as he walked through the terrain of Nyx's psyche, surprised to be met with a stark blackness that echoed her powers.

"Nyx? It's me, Professor Xavier, are you there?"

"Professor?" he heard Nyx's voice echo through the expanse. Her voice was constricted with fear. "Professor, I can't wake up. Don't let me hurt anyone!" she called desperately to him.

"Nyx, just stay calm. Follow my voice and come talk to me."

"I can't, Professor! I don't know where I am!" she yelled. "He won't let me do anything!"

"He? Nyx, tell me who 'he' is."

"The voice," she called back.

"Who is the voice?"

"I don't know!" she said, the mounting distress detectable in her voice. "Oh God, Professor please, keep everyone away from me," she moaned.

"Nyx, listen to me. We are going to wake you up together. I need you to concentrate for me, concentrate on opening your eyes."

"Don't you think I've tried?" Nyx seethed. With her frustration the floor of her mind began to wrinkle; the pure black floors looked like a lagoon of rippling marble. Xavier levitated off the floor slightly and scanned the room again, searching for Nyx in her own inky mindscape.

"I knew we'd cross paths here eventually, Charles," a voice boomed. It was Nyx's voice, yet it wasn't. Her usual bouncy voice that would rise and fall with impressed consonants was garbled by a thundering undertone that reverberated through her mind. "It was only a matter of time."

"Who is this?" Professor demanded with a sharp tone.

"Not this time," the voice replied, disregarding this question. "This time you will be powerless to stop me," the voice mused then broke into a sickening laugh. The resounding cackle soon faded into screams sharp as daggers. They assaulted Xavier's ears and caused him to cover them in defense. He squeezed his eyes shut and when he opened them, he found himself back in the mansion, the light from the hallway illuminated the room in a soft glow, yet the screams still pierced the air.

He looked up to see that the blackness had dissipated from around Nyx, but her eyes were still screwed shut and shrieks slipped from her agape mouth. He looked at Remy, who gave him a fleeting distressed look before he was by Nyx's side, calling her name and shaking her in an attempt to rouse her.