Where they shouldn't be

Grasshoppers chirped deafeningly in the grass. In a small forest area, apart from them and the echoing rustle of leaves, nothing made the air vibrate so freshly. A damp chill drifted across the stone plateau, descending to their pitifully green place with jagged pines and yellowish bushes. The professor opened his eyes slightly, squinting a little at the brightness of the sun. It burned with a clear, deadly white light, but it did not warm. An icy shudder went through Charles's shoulders. Remy lay next to him, breathing raggedly and heavily through his nose, hugging himself with his arms under his sore ribs. A puddle of blood had accumulated under him like a nasty brown stain, leaking through the unreliable bandages. Cajun had turned almost transparent, and there were deep black shadows under his eyes. As if sensing the professor's gaze on him, Gambit woke up, wincing tiredly. "Ahh... bonjour, Professor... phew..." - he took a determined deep breath and pulled himself to his feet like a rag doll. - "Come on..." "Remy, are you sure you can keep going?".. - Charles could already hear the tortured doubts in Cajun's mind, but he was outwardly trying to stay unharmed, even though he was staggering. "Yes, of course. Crawl on," - the thief turned his back on the professor, took him on his shoulders with a grunt, after which he walked a little unsteadily, but with the most demanding step. So much self-control and patience lay like a shadow on his haggard face that he did not look like himself. Xavier clung to Remy's neck with his hands as they walked. The telepath himself had little strength left, so much so that his head was buzzing, but he felt, after only taking control of his student's body for a second, that Gambit would not last another couple of miles. He had lost almost half of his blood, he was feverish, with a sticky, heavy heat shimmering inside, and his head ached unbearably, almost to the point of a nervous breakdown. But he was walking. In this manner, they descended a little more, bypassing the rocks and gorges, and in the evening they came out onto a spacious bare plain. Remy's legs gave way wearily, and he fell to his knees, vomiting blood terribly. "Remy, Remy!" – the professor quickly slid off him and sat down, lifted Gambit's head towards himself, meeting his stupefied, dull gaze. – "Hush..." Cajun was breathing heavily and hoarsely, viscous red saliva dripping from his lips. Remy covered his mouth with his hand, fighting another gag reflex from the sour taste of blood in his mouth. "Get back on... I'll get up and..." "That's enough, Remy. You know how stupid it is to hide everything from a telepath." Remy paused, breathing noisily through his nose, his hair stuck to his forehead covered with boiling perspiration. He accepted that he was really almost dying from wounds, and the severity turned his face into a dry, indifferent mask, he did not want to accept it until the very end. "I feel bad... I feel so damn sick... merde moa..." - Gambit slowly got to his feet, took a couple of steps with effort, and fell noiselessly sideways to the ground, pressing his hand to the wound on his stomach, through which the pink scratched wall of his stomach, liver, and intestines peeked out. The loose bandage fell apart from the weight and wetness. Remy curled up on the ground in a lost fetal position, continuing to press his panicked hand to the wound and breathing heavily often in order to courageously hide the moans of pain. Charles worriedly crawled up to him and hugged him from behind, helping to hold his weakened hands on the wound and at least warming him a little. Feeling the comfortable warmth of another body against his back, the thief stopped trembling violently, although he was still suffocating from the painful shock and heavy blood loss. "Charles... huh... it seems to me... I'm dying... I can't stand it..." - his voice sounded like an upset whisper, hoarse, choked, whining with impotence, with an accent pronounced with emotion. Xavier frowned thoughtfully and with concern, but made the most appropriate decision and put his fingers to his temple. "I'll try to contact Jean. Be patient a bit..." Remy indignantly tried to get up on his elbow, but this movement caused a red flash to appear before his eyes, and he lay back down wearily. "You can't, Professor, your head..." "I know. But I won't let us die here," - Charles connected all his powers to communicate across the distance. Without Cerebro, it drained his brain much faster and more painfully, but he continued to make his way through the murky veil of the external rumbling world to Jean's consciousness. "Jean. Jean, can you hear me?" "Yes, Professor! Did something happen?" "We're in trouble. Please come to Cerebro as soon as possible while I'm conscious and find our coordinates." "Okay! I won't be able to read Gambit's mind, so stay in touch!" "I'll try." Xavier cut the conversation short. Blood began to flow from under the bandage on his head, the capillaries in his eyes burst, and he turned even paler from the strain, merging with the dirty snow on the plain. "I was able to do it... contact Jean. They'll pick us up soon... Gambit?.." Remy didn't respond, and his mind was dark too. Lost consciousness.