Fic: Trials Unending (19-22/22)
Title: Trials Unending
Author: Faceted Mind
Summary: After his return from Antarctica, Remy's trials are far from over.
For awesome visit:
groups.yahoo.com/group/logan_remy
http://www.squidge.org/~peja/cgi-bin/categories.php?catid=19&parentcatid=19
http://logan-remy.50megs.com/slash_stories_2.htm
Warnings: Slash, mention of child abuse and rape. Occasional medical/pseudoscientific info-blasts which despite researching may or may not be accurate; forgive me anyone who reads and shakes their heads in annoyance, I am no medic. Oh, and a little British spelling, which I'm sure you can forgive me for.
Notes: This is AU for how Remy gets back to the Mansion and in what state. No glowy green ladies here. A variety of Betas have worked on this fic; Cruel Illusion, Ross and "Point me at the coffee" as far as I remember, but I have done work on it since so all mistakes are my own. This was written in 2005/6, so I blame my youth for all rose-tinted-ness, the sequel (2008/9) is more cynical, jaded and tortuous. I've obviously hit my writing's teen-aged years.
Pairing: Future Logan/Remy, but not just yet ;)
Master Post . Chapters 1-3 . Chapters 4-6 . Chapters 7-9 . Chapters 10-12 . Chapters 13-15 . Chapters 16-18 . Chapters 19-22 . An End In Sight
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Chapter 19
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Logan was sat with one arm wrapped around Remy's waist, holding him as he shuddered with a cold that came not from outdoors, but from the past. Remy was still sat on his bed, but he had pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He was rocking back and forth absently.
Logan forced himself not to react when Remy flinched away violently, pulling back into the corner of the bed. He held his place at the side of the bed, not making any move and waiting for Remy to acknowledge his presence. He knew what it was to get lost in memory, and the memories that he had brought up - his fault, damn it - weren't memories he wanted Remy reliving. Only patience would bring him out of this without adding to the trauma. Logan waited.
There was the faintest brush of a mind touching his, a shudder down his spine. He wouldn't have known what it was if he hadn't spent the last few months connected to that feeling in the most intimate of ways. He moved across the bed, reaching out to touch Remy's shoulder - the most innocent of touches, with as little threat as he could manage.
"Hey, Remy. Come back to me." Remy leant into his touch as Logan pulled him closer, until his head rested on Logan's shoulder and his arm reached almost automatically around his waist, tangling in his shirt, clinging to him like a lifeline.
"Hey." He murmured, grasping Remy's free hand with his own. "You back with me now?" Remy shuddered heavily.
"Oui."
"Wanna talk about it?"
"Why y' doin' dis, Logan?" Remy's voice was distant and subdued, and pulled more strongly at Logan's heart than any shared emotion of the last few months. "Why y' doin' dis for Remy?"
"Thought I explained that already. I care fer ya, Remy. I don't care what that means fer you or me, I just want ya to know it."
"How can y' be sure? Sometimes *I'm* not sure I didn' make somet'in' happen. I can' say f' sure I didn' do dis."
"Even if ya did, this is how I feel now. I can't think of any good reason not ta feel like this fer you, and I can think of a whole load of reasons why I should." Remy closed his eyes at this admission, fighting back tears. Why couldn't he move past it? Why couldn't he give in to this tidal wave of emotion? Why did they always stand in his way?
"Talkin' about dem… It gives dem strength. Sometimes it's hard t' break free." Pulling the blanket up from the bed to wrap around their shoulders, Logan thought about that. "Do ya feel stronger after?" He asked, thinking of Xavier's words to him when he had first talked about what he knew of his past - you don't get over traumatic events by hiding them away inside you. He had dismissed it as quack bullshit back then, but he was desperate for some way to make this *right*.
"I don' know, maybe." Remy didn't sound stronger, he sounded tired. Logan went to trace the dark smudges that outlined Remy's eyes, pulling back when Remy flinched away from his touch.
"Sorry." A plea as much as an apology. Logan turned his attention to the darkening sky outside the window, fighting back angry tears of his own. He wondered how it had gotten so late without their noticing.
"Why don't ya lie down fer a minute." He spoke up after he had collected himself again. "Maybe you'll feel better after some sleep." Remy nodded in vague assent, his mind obviously still far away. Shifting so that Remy could lie flat on the bed without releasing his hold, Logan rubbed gentle circles on his back until he stilled.
Waiting another few minutes, until he was sure that Remy was sleeping, Logan relaxed himself and pulled away, trying to take some perspective on what had just happened. He had come with an admission he felt sure would be dismissed or laughed at by the womanising Cajun, only to be entrusted with a dark secret that he had disturbed with his clumsy show of drunken affection. A secret that should have crushed all his hopes more surely than laughter would have. He might have preferred laughter to this horrendous truth. Yet, despite it all, Remy wanted to try. Wanted to risk everything on the hope that Logan could be gentle. That he wouldn't hurt him like the other men had. And trusted him enough to fall asleep at his side, despite what had happened - the thought struck him heavily. Remy *trusted* him. More than he'd ever known.
It was a little much to absorb to say the least.
He slid down so that he was sat on the floor beside the bed, one hand still loosely entangled with Remy's and balanced awkwardly on the bed behind him. He found himself studying that hand as his mind wandered, taking in the softening pink scars across his fingers, the pale skin that pulled tight across his index finger to resist that last bit of movement. As Remy relaxed further and rolled onto his back, his grip loosening further, Logan turned to the palm to find the scars there much reduced, already worn down in daily use.
"Is that what I've got ta do? Wear away the scars?" He was talking to himself, needing to say the words out loud to settle them in his own mind. He kept his senses trained on Remy for any sign of him waking. "These ain't scars, they're open wounds." He sneered to himself. "And who's fault is that, huh?" He sighed. "How the hell did ya hide this from everyone?" He quickly answered his own question with a startled revelation. "Ya slept with women. Lots of women. And ya flirted with all the men. It's all a cover." He was suddenly looking at Remy in a whole new way. He had fooled them all. "Oh Remy."
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"Logan?" His eyes flickered open.
"I'm here." He answered softly, still sat where he had fallen asleep at the side of Remy's bed. A sigh, and the creak of the bed as Remy laid back down.
"Why?" A weighted question, though Logan had no idea *where* it was weighted.
"Because ya asked me ta stay?" He hazarded. Another sigh, almost a laugh. The sound soothed Logan's heart, and he turned to look at Remy.
"Non… why… why *you* after all dis time?"
"Perhaps I was just in the right place at the right time?"
"Or the wrong place." Remy muttered under his breath.
"Maybe it would have been earlier if you didn't keep your emotions so caged in all the time." Logan retorted. Remy paused uncertainly, something unreadable in his eyes. The moment passed, and Remy seemed to withdraw, his lips pursed. They fell into an uncomfortable silence, their own thoughts sitting like a weight between them.
"Sometimes…" Remy stumbled into silence again. He almost visibly gathered himself. "Sometimes I wonder if I would still be attracted to men if it wasn't for them. Whether I would have ended up like this if I hadn't been for… without that experience." Logan's mind stalled as Remy's words sank in. 'Is he attracted to me because I'm like them? I'm the only type of man he knows in that way.' This spoken truth sat between them as each sought a way to move past this moment, each moment of silence cementing the uncertainty.
Remy wondered if speaking his fear had ruined his bond with Logan forever - whatever his kind words and platitudes the night before. To him, the silence and uncertainty he could feel in his mind were symptoms of the same thing - Logan couldn't be attracted to him now that he knew the reason why Remy was attracted to him. Logan couldn't live with him if he was going to be such hard work. Logan couldn't love him if he wasn't sure he could love him back.
To Logan, Remy's silence spoke of fear, and his scent spoke of confusion. Did he fear him now? Were his words meant to placate? To keep Logan from the quick anger he was known for? Would leaving wordlessly help, or deepen that fear? Should he try and reassure him? He dismissed both ideas. Either could be taken as a refusal of his brave offer, and if there was any chance that offer was true Logan wanted to cling to it.
If it were true…
All thoughts coming to a dead end, Logan did the only thing he could think to do. He packaged the last few days away in his mind to process later, and acted like nothing had happened.
"I had an idea about the parallel bars."
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Logan let Remy warm up as he went over to take a look at the parallel bars. They were attached at each end to the posts that supported them, and those in turn, were bolted to flat weights on the ground that stopped the bars shifting as the gymnast threw their weight about. The uprights had a series of points up the length at which the bars could be attached - allowing the equipment to be adjusted for different skill levels and heights. The points only went half way down though, to the height of the youngest and smallest user, and Remy was more likely to hurt himself falling from there than falling from the setting that matched his own height. Before Antarctica, Remy had always used the top setting on this kind of equipment, where even he needed a springboard to mount the bars, but that was simply impossible as he was. He needed too much information about his surroundings to be able to hit the board in the right place, make the jump and then catch the bars, and he was in a situation where any misstep could mean serious injury.
Logan glanced back at Remy in time to see him roll into a handstand in the center of the mat, a soft frown betraying how much the weight on his right hand still hurt him, before turning his attention back to the bars. Inspiration caught him, and he started dismantling the equipment. He was pulling the uprights out of their weighted casings when Remy finished his warmup and started making his way over to him.
Logan looked over long enough to make sure he was skirting the pit and the horse that was between them, spending a moment thinking on the conundrum of Remy's confidence - in his stride, his gesture, his posture - while they were in here and how he could begin to draw it out of him while he was elsewhere. Getting him drunk was one way, though that had had other less predictable results. Satisfied that Remy had acknowledged the path he needed to take, Logan turned back to his task.
"What are y' plannin'?" Remy asked curiously.
"Just an idea." He answered evasively as he spun the upright over and fastened it upside down in its casing.
"Are y' takin' apart th' bars?" Remy asked, his curiosity unquenched.
"Maybe."
"Why?"
"Wait an' y'll find out." Remy slumped down onto the mats, watching Logan's heated form shift about. It was cold in the hall, so he stood out more dramatically than usual, and so did the young student and her coach who were stood at the door watching curiously. "Whatever y' doin' - it's drawin' an audience." Logan didn't comment. Ignoring the other two, Remy brought his senses to focus on Logan. Faint hazes of motion were things that he was moving about - the parts of the parallel bars if his guess was right. The material was as cold as the room, but movement gave it a little kinetic warmth that faded as soon as Logan put it in place, handprints made by the warmth of his hands rapidly fading on the surface.
"Right. Done." Remy pulled back with a grimace as Logan flared into his line of 'sight', his body heat hugely bright compared to the tiny amounts he had been focusing on.
"Done what?"
"Come look." Remy's face darkened, but before he could state the obvious Logan caught hold of his hand and pulled him across the mats, pushing down on his shoulder to encourage him to kneel where he placed him.
"Logan… what…?"
"*Look*."
"I *can't*…" Remy ground out, his words halted suddenly when Logan grabbed hold of his hand roughly and *put* it on the bar that was now barely higher than his hip as he knelt on the ground.
"Learn ta do without. Things ain't ever gonna get easier until ya can accept that this is how you are now, and move on."
"Yeah, dat's easy f' you t' say."
"I'm doin' all I can." Remy bit back another sharp retort and sat back on his heels, sighing.
"'M sorry." He shook his head, closing his hand more solidly around the bar Logan had shown him and then reaching out to find the other on his right. "Y' dropped them?"
"Yeah, figured it'd be a bit safer fer what I want ta try."
"Y' still not gon' tell me y' idea are y'?" Remy smiled, finding the centre of the two bars with his hands and settling himself between them. "Y' sure dey're solid?"
"I'm sure." With a nod, Remy folded himself into a handstand on the widely spaced bars, his body perfectly straight from toe to crown. Holding the position until he was forced to give in to the strain and come back down, Remy knelt between the bars again and waited for Logan's idea.
It seemed to take Logan a moment to realise that Remy was waiting for him, and Remy smiled at the hint of embarrassment he could feel as Logan tried to cover up his drifting attentions.
"Let's get ya back to one-handed, and fer now I'll just watch ya back down." He said, his voice filled with a smile. Remy needed to be comfortable in the one-handed handstand before his plan would work, and though he was already comfortable again on the ground, the bars made the position more difficult to achieve.
It didn't take him long to get back into the movement, strength already returning through the training he'd been doing at Leadenhall. When Remy was satisfied he could get into the position without too many attempts, he took a seat between the bars again and waited for Logan's instructions.
"How much of yer surroundings do ya take in while yer up there? Can ya see movement?" Logan asked.
"I used t' be able to. Let me dodge t'ings even when I was doin' somet'in' else." Remy shrugged. "'S not somet'in' I've tried recently."
"OK, now's the time to try it. Up again, and this time yer droppin' back onta the pole, alright?" Remy frowned, but nodded, accepting that Logan's plan would either become clear or that the man would catch him when he missed the landing again.
Pushing up into the strained position took no less than complete control, every muscle straining to hold him there.
There was a sound of metal ringing on metal, and the noise almost distracted him enough to break his tenuous control over his body, but Logan's plan was suddenly very clear. To one side of him the bar was literally vibrating with kinetic energy as it recoiled from the blow. He dropped onto it perfectly, body following straight to the floor to take the weight of his body off his right hand.
He was grinning widely when Logan pulled him into a hug, his claws already withdrawn.
"We'll get ya back up there, Rems. Just you wait."
-,., -
"Hey 'Ro." He greeted Ororo as she approached from the garden. He could tell without looking that she'd been gardening. She was filled with the kind of peace that only nature gave her, and it spilled into the room around her.
"Have you talked with Remy?" She demanded tersely.
"Yes." He turned and met her eyes, let her see everything that his own held. She smiled gently.
"Then I will leave you to your meditation."
"Hey 'Ro." He called after her. She looked back expectantly. "He might need someone to talk to? We're goin' out trainin' after his lessons tomorrow, but…"
"I will see him this afternoon." She nodded.
"And 'Ro." She hesitated again, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"Yes?"
"Thanks."
"You are very welcome, my friend."
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Chapter 20
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Ororo smiled as a groggy looking Cajun answered the door that afternoon in crumpled jeans and an unbuttoned shirt. Being sent back to 'school' hadn't changed his propensity for late nights and even later mornings.
"It is good to know that some things will never change." She greeted him wryly. Ignoring his disgruntled snort, she followed him into his room. The curtains were open, but it seemed more than likely they hadn't been shut than Remy had been up early enough to open them. He collapsed into a chair with comfortable accuracy and Ororo settled herself in front of him patiently, perching on the edge of a table. They sat in comfortable silence in this way for a time, but Storm's patience was infinitely longer than Remy's and she knew it.
"Y' call jus' t' get me outta bed on m' only day off?" He griped.
"Ah, the life of a student." She teased. "No, I had need to speak with you, and since I have only a few hours in my day to spare and I have been up since dawn, I came now."
"M' sorry, Stormy. Jus' din' sleep very well las' night is all."
"More nightmares?"
"Non… for once." Remy smiled softly. "Had a lot t' t'ink about. Lot of t'ings changed over th' las' few days."
"Are you still thinking about leaving the mansion?" Ororo asked tentatively.
"I… I'm not sure anymore." Remy's expression dropped briefly. "I haven't thought about it."
"If that was not what was on your mind, what was?" Ororo asked, startled. " I thought Logan had come to talk you out of the idea."
"You sent him? T' talk t' me th' ot'er day?" Remy couldn't help but grin. "Have I ever tol' you how much I love you?" He jumped up and pulled her into a hug, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
"Well… I'm glad you are happy." She observed, a little bemused. "I had thought you might be annoyed with me, for interfering." Remy laughed out loud at that, a short joyful sound that made Ororo think of better times, when they had the run of their city and did things because they were fun. An old-minded child and a young-minded adult.
"'Ro." Remy reined in his laughter, grinning. "My 'Ro." He pulled her close again, and then let her take the chair, taking a step back to balance on the table's edge. "Do you know what Logan came to talk to me about?"
"He came to apologise for what he said when you were both drunk the other day." Ororo replied, confused again, but still smiling at Remy's obvious enthusiasm and good spirits. "He wanted to tell you something else… about Scott maybe?" She guessed. Remy seemed baffled.
"Scott… no, we din' talk about Scott." Ororo thought about the confusion of words and questions that Logan had exchanged with her before he had left, and the look in his eyes this morning. A little belatedly, she started putting things together. "'Ro… Logan an' I… we're…" The deep blush that Ororo was sure she had never seen before was almost as endearing as the stuttered attempt at an admission. She decided to save him before he hurt himself.
"I have never heard you speak this falteringly of a fledgling relationship before." Remy spluttered, wide eyed, for a moment before gathering himself.
"Not exac'ly my normal style, neh?" He replied with an inarticulate shrug, tension showing in every movement.
"And yet I don't think I've ever seen you so… animated over any of your previous involvements, Remy." Ororo's smile was threatening to take over her regal face as she watched emotions she had never before been privileged enough to witness scatter themselves over Remy's face. She wondered if Logan knew just how he was making the poor boy feel, or indeed if even Remy knew the full extent of it.
"I t'ink, maybe dis is important… f' me." He frowned, and Ororo could tell he was annoyed at his own inability to express himself. "He makes me strong, 'Ro. I din' t'ink I'd feel strong again… 'specially not *now*." There was a hesitation in those words, and Ororo knew what he meant by the vague comment - all his fears and vulnerabilities had been magnified by the darkness that had surrounded him in sight and mind since the events in Antarctica.
"I still do not know what I can possibly do to redeem myself regarding the events that passed in Antarctica."
"Tell me y' happy f' us, an' I'll f'give you." Remy replied with a sad smile.
"If only it were that simple. But I am happy for you, Remy, so happy. You deserve someone to make you strong."
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"Come on, focus." The handsprings were simple in this environment, with soft mats beneath him, no obstacles, no targets and nothing to avoid or deflect. No kinetic distractions. He'd done the movements a hundred times before, on the edges of buildings where the drop would surely kill him, and in the face of his enemies to avoid attacks on his very life. Now all he needed to do was to cover the distance across the mat, and he was finding it impossible. "One more time, alright?" Logan was a perfect outline at this distance, his movement and body heat making him bright in Remy's vision. The distance was six meters, and with two paces for momentum, about a metre each, he would have to extend the spring to make the last four, but it wasn't beyond his abilities. The trick was getting it *right*. Before, his accuracy in all things had depended on an awareness of *precisely* where everything was around him. With one glance he would know a room inside out and could have hand-springed off every stable bit of furniture in the place with his eyes closed. But he needed that first look. Without it, the thought was impossible.
Four metres to do the move. If his pace was a metre long… he would need to cover twice that distance in the air before his hands went down, that was two metres, and then the same again for the landing. He tried to process that into an image of the distance in his mind. How many times had they done this in his training - it seemed so long ago - picture a room, with a jewel in its centre… He took a deep breath and gathered his focus on that image. In his mind there was nothing but a six-metre square with four marks on it: foot, foot, hand, foot. The paces were precise and measured, giving just enough power to the move that followed, not an inch more, not an inch less. His weight went down a little heavily on his right wrist - he'd been too focused on the distances to think about transferring his weight - and it shortened the following move, if only by an inch. He landed perfectly, light as a feather and with barely a sound.
"Shit." He hissed. "An inch! A fucking inch and I would have had it!" Logan snorted, and Remy glared at him - a little off centre, Logan noticed, but he was certainly improving. "What are y' laughin' at?" Logan said nothing, but his humour escalated to a snigger. "What? I know I missed it." Remy insisted, not willing to be fooled.
"Yeah, ya know you missed it." Logan repeated through a grin, waiting for Remy to catch on. Remy's smile finally caught and grew.
"Yeah."
"Now ya need ta be able ta do that everywhere." Remy's smile faltered for a moment. "But that's somethin' fer tomorrow's session, right? Time ta get back."
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"Stormy came t' see me dis mornin'." Remy told Logan as he gathered his possessions into his satchel. Logan handed him a pile of clothes from the drawers and watched as he crumpled them into the bag. "Tol' her what was goin' on, 'tween us. T'ink she mighta known anyway, but I wanted t' tell her, y'know?"
"So what did she say?" Logan asked tentatively.
"T'ink she was happy f' us." Remy paused, as if thinking through their conversation again, and then nodded once and continued packing. Logan absorbed every little gesture and movement, learning the man in every moment that they spent together. Shaking himself out of his daze, he moved to gather the remaining clothes out of the drawers and handed them over, watching them follow the others into packed disarray. "Dere anyt'in' else?" Remy asked, pulling open drawers at random and running his hand along the bottom.
"Don't think so." With a sigh, Remy dropped onto his bed in a slouch. Taking a seat next to him, Logan wrapped an arm around Remy and let him slump onto his shoulder.
"Dis is nice." Remy murmured with a smile, shuffling to one side so that he wasn't so twisted.
"Yeah." Logan snorted to himself.
"What?" Remy demanded with a smile, happy to absorb Logan's good humour.
"Think how many people are gonna have heart attacks when we get back to the mansion." Remy's smile faltered a little.
"Are y' sure y'…"
"Don't say it." Logan interrupted. "Just don't."
" I was just…"
"I know what 'you were just', and I don't need it. I've made my decision, an' I'm sticking by it. I'm sticking by *you*, Remy." With a soft sigh, Remy slumped down until he was laying in Logan's lap, bringing his feet up to rest over his bag and off the end of the bed.
"It's gon'be hard movin' back in. Gotta get used t' th' house again, work out where ev'ryt'in' is wit'out makin' a fool of m'self." He shuddered.
"No one's gonna care what ya do, they're just gonna be glad yer home." Remy snorted.
"Maybe not when they realise I got no way t'earn my keep."
"No one's ever asked ya to earn yer keep."
"Dey never had to."
"And they still won't. Ya just have ta accept that yer one of us, and we ain't gonna turn you out fer somethin' that wouldn't of happened if it weren't fer us."
"Did y' not see Rogue? I did that t' her, made her int' *that*."
"Don't ever believe that." Logan's voice dropped, dead serious. "Xavier looked inta that kid's head when she first got here, and he ain't ever looked since. That man lives by the phrase: 'keep you friends close and your enemies closer'. Why else do you think he harbours some of the strongest mutants in the world when it's obvious that it's the *weak* ones that need protectin'? He's protectin' the rest of the world from us. I bet he coulda helped Rogue if he'd tried, but he never did. Never even tried. Because then she woulda been free ta go out inta the world. He wanted her close, wanted ta watch her." Remy's face grew pinched and he sat up, the motion putting a distance between them and taking him out of the reach of Logan's arm.
"I can't believe that."
"Why not?"
"Because den I'd have t' hate Rogue, and I don' t'ink I can do that." The thickness in Remy's voice infected Logan's throat too, and he moved to put his arm around him again.
"There's nothin' wrong with hatin' someone, even if… ya still love her." Remy pressed a hand to his mouth, stifling a sob. "Ya can't keep this bottled up forever, Rems, ya have to let it out." With a series of deep breaths, Remy brought himself back under control, falling back into Logan's arm as though he had exhausted himself.
"Why'd he let me fall so hard… if he knew…?"
"I don't think there was anythin' he coulda done about it." Logan sighed, pulling Remy close in his arms as though he could protect him that way. If only. "Maybe he thought you might of been able ta save her."
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Chapter 21
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Logan had expected many things for Remy's return to the mansion, but with the scene unfolding in the main hallway of the mansion, he could have been forgiven for thinking nothing had happened at all in the last few months. Remy was striding down the corridor, Jean on one arm, Ororo on the other, laughing and joking and generally creating noise.
Standing off to one side to avoid the fracas, Logan watched them advance like a marching band. They proceeded with overemphasised footsteps, jostling and bumping as it became obvious that the hallway wasn't wide enough for all three of them beyond a certain point. With bright laughter as the women he was sandwiched between fought over which of them should continue, Remy escaped from both their arms and moved quickly - if a little hesitantly - to stand beside Logan, grasping his arm.
"Save me, Wolvie!" he mock-cried.
"Hell no. I'm not getting involved," Logan laughed in reply.
"Remy, we have to do upstairs yet!" Jean called from across the hall, held back by Ororo's hand on her wrist. Storm watched the men's interaction from a distance, a knowing grin gracing her features.
"They helping ya map the grounds?" Logan asked Remy, still grinning at the image of them all parading down the hall.
"Yeah, suppos'dly," Remy replied with a raised eyebrow.
"Ya gonna need more help?"
"Not now, dey'll be offended." He grimaced. "Maybe later?" he appealed, a tone of voice that sounded odd without eye contact.
"Sure. Now go play nice with the girlies. I'll see you later." Remy stepped away with as much confidence as he could muster to rejoin the women.
-,., -
Logan stepped out of the TV room, the barely-audible footsteps all he needed to recognise Remy on the stairs. The Cajun's pace was a little slower, perhaps more cautious than usual, but little else had changed. He still exuded cheery arrogance and self- confidence, and Logan wondered - not for the first time - how much of that was automatic, designed to mask any real emotion that might leak out of his empathic abilities. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and Remy quickly joined him. Stepping off the last step and then hesitating - as though he had been counting the steps to the ground and been distracted - Remy sighed, leaning back against the banister and grinning. "Hey."
"How'ya doin'?"
"I'm okay, I t'ink." He laughed shortly. "Bin a busy day. Din' help I spend all day marchin' `round like `m in a brass band."
Logan grinned. "So - if they were doin' it wrong, how do I do it right?"
-,., -
Scott stood at the top of the stairs, watching as Remy walked purposefully around the mansion with Logan at his elbow marking points and pointing out obstacles. It was a process that he remembered despising from that time so long ago when it had been Hank guiding him and the mansion had been a huge frightening space, less like home than the streets he had walked before. The memory was almost physical in its intensity. He took a seat on the step at the top of the hall to watch and think. He knew what Remy was doing - touching every surface and edge not just to avoid walking into it, but to use it as a pointer to the next place. The space became a network of points, and straight lines joining each one. Touch *this* cabinet and walk parallel to it to reach *this* sofa or come through the door on the left and touch *this* sideboard and the sink was on your left, the hob on your right, another door on the far left back into the hall. Seeing them begin to work their way back around to the stairs, Scott pulled himself back together and headed off to bed, needing the presence of his wife to soothe away old fears.
-,., -
Taking a seat in the empty rec. room to let himself absorb the information - knowing it would take a few mistakes before everything was fully settled in his mind. With a sigh, Remy leant into the warmth of Logan's presence beside him.
"T'ank y'."
Logan snorted. "Like I woulda let anyone else do it."
Remy chuckled. "It's… reassuring, doin' dis wit' y'. It's worse somehow, somewhere 'm s'pposed t' already know. Jus' remin's me how stupid I was."
"How's that?"
"Not learnin' th' floorplan when I firs' got here. Mon pere… he would be disgusted how lazy I was. Jus'… truly never t'ought I'd have t' use dose skills. Never bin in a situation dat I couldn' see 'xactly where everyt'in' was."
"Ya seem ta be doin' alright. Ya know I expected ya t' drift a bit, towards yer dominant foot."
"I grew up walkin' tightropes and slacklines 'cross rooftops in de middle o' th' night. Y' learn not t' drift." Remy laughed. "Lapin - dat's my cousin - he got hit by a bird once, when he was jus' learnin' - we still had safety lines den, t' catch us. We always tol' him he was jus' so good dat even th' birds didn' see him." Logan smiled.
"You've never told me… told any of us anything like that before. About when you were a kid." Remy tensed a little, but held his smile.
"An' it's not f' repeatin', neh? Less everyone knows 'bout de guild de better."
"But you'd tell me?"
"I trust y'. Am I right to?"
-,., -
He could do this with his eyes shut. *Had* done it with his eyes shut before now, just for fun. But this was different. There was no peeking if things got tense. The mission planning had originally placed Xavier in position as communications hub between the two teams, but he had not returned from the meeting he'd been attending - putting his rescue as a possible second mission of the night if they heard nothing in the interim. Scott's fastidiously- planned mission had a place for every member of the two teams, and without Rogue and with Warren still under Hank's watchful eye there wasn't room for a whole lot of manoeuvring of personnel. On the spur of the moment Scott had asked Remy.
It had possibly been as much a shock to everyone else as to Remy, on his first night back in the mansion and his capabilities pretty much untested, but he had been quick to accept the request, taking only a moment to prove to Scott that he knew exactly where everything was in the control room and making sure they left before Scott could change his mind. But now, sitting here with a whole array of buttons in front of him and only his memory to rely on in finding them all, Remy was beginning to feel delayed panic setting in. Why had he accepted, what was he thinking? Every X-man's life was on the line every time they left the mansion. What had he been thinking?
He ran his fingers over the buttons and switches on the console in front of him, listing the names in his head and forcing down his doubts. Scott was leading one group and Storm the other, so the two most important switches were side by side on his right. The general open channel was on his left, a round button as opposed to the stick switches for the individual communicators. Activating the comm. systems and the tracking systems with a practice-easy gesture, Remy settled back to wait. There was a confirmatory beep as the Blackbird came online and began firing up.
"Comms. ready. Y' good t' go." he told Jean, who he knew would be sitting beside Scott at the Blackbird's comms. station. With the quiet "acknowledged" in reply, Remy switched on the Blackbird's internal microphones to listen to the ship take off. The room was filled with the quiet banter of his teammates, a testament to the ever-present nervousness before any mission. There would be no sign of it by the time they touched down.
"No leaving anyone behind on this mission, guys," Scott joked from the front.
"Not even Bobby?" came Warren's light-hearted reply.
"OK, maybe Bobby," Jean answered into Scott's exasperated silence.
-,., -
The mission was simple. Three mutants were being held for an upcoming auction being held by a front company called Youki Global. The company had been using freelance bounty hunters to collect mutants and make profits selling them to anyone who would bid - be they slaver, scientist or psycho. They had been watching the compound where they knew the mutants were being held, but so far had had no luck pinning down the organisers, or any of the backing for the on-the-side criminal activity. Scott was loath to attack the company itself without any real evidence, but they had to get the captive mutants out before they were sold.
The compound looked like a miniaturised prison, with snipers and spotlights on every corner and one single intimidating building in the centre. There was a signal-dampening field over the entire area, but the communications equipment at the mansion was strong enough to cut through it. This meant that any communication between the X-Men would have to be either verbal or relayed via the mansion's main communications system instead of through the Blackbird's systems on the ground. One team would be going in from the north - taking out the two spotlight towers on that side on their way in - and the other from the south. The south team - lead by Storm - would head for the roof of the building and clear any remaining resistance from there while the north team - led by Scott - would head into the building for the captives.
Remy found himself holding his breath as the two teams disembarked, quickly splitting off and spreading into the undergrowth or taking to the air. He'd run through the communicators while the team had been in the jet, checking each name off against the list in his memory and making sure everyone had a working comm. unit. With communications as they were they needed to make sure they could all contact the mansion as needed.
"Relay to Cyclops. Team 2 in place and awaiting go ahead." Storm's voice.
"From Storm, Team 2 in place," Remy quickly relayed across.
"To Storm. Move in."
"From Cyke, move in." The process was arduous, but it was a way around the complications of being completely out of contact with anyone else on the team at any point, something Scott was becoming quite phobic of with his X-Men dropping like flies.
Remy waited in the silence as the teams moved in. He would have no idea what was going on without opening a channel - something he couldn't do without distracting the X-Man in question.
He knew that Angel would be taking out the spotlights from above for his team, and Psylocke would be doing the same for hers as the others moved in to disarm the men guarding those towers. Jean and Bobby would take out the men guarding the roof, then Scott and Logan would take out the guards that stood between them and the main doors and they would enter the building. Jean, Warren and Storm would stay in the air, looking out for…
"To Gambit, confirm status of Angel." Storm's voice interrupted his train of thought.
"Angel, confirm status," Remy relayed, almost before he had gotten over the shock of hearing his codename for the first time in… why wasn't Wings responding?
"Nothing from Ange, Storm." he replied quickly, before switching channels back and trying again. "Angel, respond." He flicked all four team switches. "Blue team, someone confirm where Angel is."
"I don't see him," Jean replied quickly.
"I see him, he's down." Bobby's voice, breathless. Nothing for a moment and then; "We're out of sight, and safe. But… I really think we need Hank out here."
"Angel's down an' safe wit' Iceman, Storm. He's requested Hank."
"Get him out here," Storm confirmed quickly.
"Angel's down. Iceman's askin' f' Hank out dere," he told Scott and Hank simultaneously.
"Wait." Came the terse command from Scott and everything stopped as the channels closed, leaving Remy in silence once again. Remy's pulse was racing as he waited, and he almost jumped as Hank's voice cut in.
"Relay to Bobby. I'm on my way, I need a location." Remy quickly passed the information on to Bobby and the location back to Hank and seconds later, Scott's voice.
"Relay to Storm, hostages are safe, pull out as soon as we have confirmation that Angel can move."
"From Cyke, hostages are safe, pull out when Ange is ready."
"To Cyclops. We're pulling out now. Stay safe." Remy relayed the message and sat back with a sigh of relief.
"Gambit." Remy jumped up in his seat and took a minute to find Hank's switch, cursing himself.
"Beast," he replied.
"We're coming in hot with Warren. I need a code kit and a gurney in the hanger and things set up in the infirmary. Can you do it?"
"Oui." He confirmed. "Is everyone out of radio quiet?"
"Yes. We're on our way." Remy hit the open channel.
"Comms. on auto." He confirmed.
"Thanks Gambit," Jean confirmed, back on the communications console in the jet.
-.,, -
Remy hurried down the corridor, counting doors because he knew he wasn't going to have a minute to spare. He flicked all the lights on as he hit the infirmary, following the wall left around the infirmary until he reached the big blue alarm button on the wall. Beneath it was the box with the code kit inside. Lifting it awkwardly - the action taking away the use of his hands as guides, he moved across the room until he kicked a gurney and put the box down on it. Circling the bed he took off the brake and pushed it forward towards the door. There was a crash of something metallic falling and, swearing, he circled the bed again until he came up against a metal implements tray. Kicking it out of the way he changed tactic, going to the front of the bed and pulling it instead. It took him a minute to get the bulky bed properly lined up with the door and then through it into the corridor outside so that it would be ready to run to the hanger once the lab was set up.
There was a basic kit and a simple stretcher in the hanger prepared for emergencies, but when Hank had someone back at the mansion to do the running around, he liked to have the gurney there waiting for him. It meant he didn't have to move the patient around so much, and the hallways were more than wide enough to accommodate the gurney.
He hesitated when it came to pulling out dressing and implements trays, wracking his brain to try and remember the shape and size of the two Hank always wanted out when he was coming back in with a code. One had a green label, the other a blue. The red, yellow and black were for other things, but none of that helped him right now. In the end he pulled out one of each of the stacks, knowing that even having them on the bench with the others would be easier for Hank than having to pull them out of the cupboard himself. Flicking on the last two lights and the oxygen pump, Remy grabbed hold of the gurney and ran towards the hanger.
He hesitated outside the door to the huge bay where the Blackbird usually resided, realising it had been a long time since he'd been down here, and last time there had been bits of the other Bird all over the floor. He stepped just inside the doorway tentatively and pulled the trolley in. When the Blackbird arrived he'd worry about getting to Hank, until then he was sticking with the safe option.
He didn't have long to wait.
-,., -
Remy sat on the bottom step of the grand staircase, waiting for news. The whirlwind that was an injured teammate had passed him at speed and he had moved out of the way, knowing there wasn't anything more he could do to help and he was just going to get in the way if he didn't move. He looked up as the lift started to hum, and its movement lit it brightly. "He okay?" Remy asked Logan almost before the door to the lift was fully open. Logan only sighed in reply, wandering over to sit beside Remy on the bottom step.
"Not really. Hank's worried."
"What happened?"
"He had another heart attack," Logan answered. "He's probably not gonna be back on the team after this, even if he pulls through. His body can't handle it anymore." Remy fell quiet.
"Shit."
"Yeah."
-,., -
Chapter 22
-,., -
Remy woke shaking and hyperventilating, a face imprinted on his mind. Every time it was the same face, some emotion seen there calming him from his panic, only to strike him down in the darkness. Take him, struggling and crying, until he hadn't the strength for either any more. Scanning the shadows again and again for some lost icon. Someone to take him home.
Struggling to bring his breathing back under control, Remy wished he could look into all the corners of his room to make sure they were empty. He knew they were, his kinetic sense told him as much, but somehow it wasn't as reassuring as *looking*.
He couldn't restrain a shout as a hand touched his back, becoming a figure that rose out of nothing so very close - too close. The hand was withdrawn almost immediately - but he was across the room with a charged card in his hand before he could think, and only the voice stopped his throw.
"Remy, stop!" Logan. It was Logan. In his bed because he'd asked him to stay the night. He'd held him, his embrace gentle in a way he'd never imagined for a man who was outwardly so coarse. He tossed the card and let the charge dissipate, dropping to his knees as the adrenaline seeped out of him. Logan dropped back onto the bed and Remy watched as his warmth disappeared in the camouflage of the body- warmed sheets.
"I din' see y'. 'M sorry."
"Ya had a nightmare?"
"Oui."
"About Warren?"
Remy snorted, almost feeling guilty that his thoughts weren't for his injured team mate. Not that he was part of that team anymore, he reminded himself. "Non."
"Should I just shut up?" Logan asked, the hint of a smile in his words. Remy came and sat back down on the bed, feeling a little stupid kneeling by the far wall. "Or should I leave?" The sound of his smile… and what a strange thought that was… the sound of his smile was gone from his words when Remy didn't reply.
"Non…" he denied quickly, "please. I'm sorry. Jus' gettin' m' head back t'gether."
"No worries." Remy tugged at his T-shirt, damp from sweat and clinging to his back. He never usually wore clothes to bed, but tonight he had made an exception, and he was beginning to regret it.
After the mayhem of the mission that evening, Remy had thought he'd never be able to sleep - his body pulsing with adrenaline and the knowledge of what he'd accomplished. Becoming a *useful* and *active* member of the team, if only for that one night. But as soon as he'd reached his room all of the adrenaline had seeped out of him and he'd barely been able to make it to his bed. He'd been quite happy sitting there watching the dance of movement and heat as Logan had undressed, *knowing* what was being revealed and fighting down his own rising heat, but as soon as he'd reached the bed Remy had become a little ball of tension; barely able to lie still, let alone sleep. Logan had reached out to touch him and he'd flown from the bed so quickly he'd tripped over a chair and spent a minute on the floor working through a couple of the richer shades of embarrassed while he apologised profusely. Logan's suggestion had worked and, clothed, he'd been comfortable enough to fall asleep in Logan's arms, feeling warm and totally protected. And now he'd jumped out of bed *again*, this time to threaten Logan with a card.
"Merde," he muttered to himself.
"What?" Logan pushed.
"I'm hopeless, y'know. Can' even spend th' night wit' y' wit'out…" He gestured vaguely.
"Ya had a nightmare. 'S nothin' big. Live through some of mine, then I think we'll be more than even." Remy laughed lightly and crawled back into Logan's arms, kissing his hands as they closed around him.
"T'ank y'," he sighed contentedly. "T'ank y' so much."
-,., -
Remy woke feeling completely refreshed despite the night's trials, sure that it was heinously late in the afternoon and everyone would be up and out already. Logan was already up, the warmth of his body long since faded. But Remy hadn't woken feeling so relaxed in a very long time and he savoured it for a while before forcing himself out of bed and into the real world.
The day that had started so well quickly turned sour as, forgetting that he was at the mansion now and not in Leadenhall, he got out of bed on the wrong side - literally - and stubbed his toe on the desk. Swearing, and trying not to hop around, knowing that was asking for more pain when he was still trying to reorient himself, he put both feet on the ground and found the edge of the desk with his hand.
He knew he had to check in with Hank at some point since his return to the mansion, but he wasn't sure the big doctor would welcome him if he was busy with another patient. It was an excuse he thought he might be able to milk for a good long while if he put some effort into it.
Sitting back down on the bed, he considered going back to sleep and trying to find that serenity he'd had earlier. He was now terrifyingly aware that to get breakfast he'd have to go through whoever else happened to be downstairs, and probably be subjected to their curiosity. Any slip he made today would seal their judgements of him.
"So, fuck 'em," he muttered to himself, with bravado he felt none of. Forcing himself up and out of bed, he went to search out the clothes he had unpacked whilst half-asleep after the troubling events of the night before.
-,., -
The curiosity around him spiked as he wandered into the kitchen. He could see Scott by the sink - his face obscured by the energy that radiated from his eyes and stopped short when it reached his glasses. There was someone sitting on the sofa in the other room, and he knew he was visible to them through the big open doorway between the two - it was either Betsy or Jean, with long hair moving below her shoulders - and Bobby, half a shade 'darker' than the others in his sight, was in the armchair watching the TV.
"Any news on Ange?" he asked, feeling the tension that had been present even before he'd walked in.
"He's pulling through," Bobby answered quietly, unusually subdued.
"Hank decided against surgery last night. He's going to wait until he knows more, do some scans when Warren's had a chance to recover a little." Remy almost jumped at Betsy's voice - he'd assumed that she would be down there with Warren, and Jean would be closer to her husband. Betsy sounded tired.
Remy nodded and wandered the rest of the way into the kitchen, hesitating for a minute.
"Not'in' moved while I bin gone?" he asked Scott quietly, feeling foolish but unwilling to make an even bigger fool of himself.
"No. You should find everything where you expect to."
"Except your concealed packs of cigarettes," Jean growled from the doorway behind him. Remy turned and flashed her an apologetic grin. "Did I tell you I found *four packs*? And in the *kitchen* of all places. I dread to think how many more there are around the house." Only four? Remy pondered, reaching into the cabinet for a mug and trying to subtly check his hiding places for the remaining pack.
"Hank wanted to see you, by the way," Scott added. "He was a little annoyed at me for roping you into last night's mission before your checkup." Remy's fingers brushed across the pack of cigarettes in the sauce jug - rather delicate and rarely used in this household - that Jean had missed and discretely dropped them into a pocket, enjoying the knowledge that he still had one or two tricks up his sleeve. Carefully pouring himself a cup of coffee, he dropped into an empty seat at the kitchen table, scowling at the foiling of his plan to avoid Hank.
"D'y' t'ink he'd notice if I didn' turn up?" Betsy snorted from the other room.
"You're such a pansy when it comes to checkups," she said, coming to join them at the table.
"Just go, Gambit. Get it over and done with," Scott pushed. Remy sighed.
"So, d' we hear from th' professor?" Gambit asked, aware that no one seemed to be planning the big rescue mission.
"His plane was delayed. He was going to contact Jean psychically last night, but realised she was in the middle of something. He left a message and Storm and Logan went to pick him up. You just missed them."
"'S a relief." Remy swirled the last dregs of his coffee around the cup, trying to draw it out.
"Yes it is," Scott sighed. "Now don't think I've not noticed you're delaying. Hank, now." With a melodramatic sigh and an overemphasised slouch, Remy shuffled out of the kitchen and headed down towards the lab.
-,., -
Wandering into the lab, Remy found Warren in the bed closest to Hank's office, surrounded by humming monitors and machinery. Remy stayed quiet, not sure if he was awake or asleep.
"If you're looking for Hank he's in his office," Warren provided tiredly, lifting up on one elbow. Awake then.
"T'anks, I'll wait," he answered, finding a seat in the corner to hide in. Logically, he knew that if he just went and talked to Hank it would all be over before he knew it, and he could minimise the time he would have to spend in the lab with Warren, but he was going to have to work up some courage if he was going to *willingly* approach the doctor. Usually the Doctor found him before he found the courage to take that step. It had taken enough to get him through the door.
"You know… sometimes I think you're being brave." Remy looked up as Warren spoke again. "And then I realise it's not in your nature, so I guess you're just stupid." His insults were a little more desperate than usual, grasping at some sense of normality as his world failed.
"Guess so," Remy replied amiably. "Should I be afraid?"
"What?"
"I'm too stupid t' be brave? Neh? So is dere somet'in' 'm s'pposed t' be 'fraid of?"
"Are you not afraid? Not at all? Your life is… ruined, and by someone you *loved*. Are you not scared that there's nothing after this? Nothing but… living?"
"Livin' not 'nough f' you, Wings?"
"You know what I mean. No more superheroing, rescues, thieving… No more falling in love, one night stands. Just days and days of *working* to get from one minute to another?"
"Fallin' in love's easy if y' let it happen, Warren. Y' have Betsy…"
"As if she's going to stick around if I can't… be myself anymore." Remy shook his head, exasperated.
"Betsy ain' in love wit' y' image, Warren. She actu'lly loves *you*, t'ough god knows why, dere ain' much 'bout you dat's lovable."
"We were talking about you, not me." Warren's reply was almost a growl.
"Right," Remy replied wryly.
"How can you talk about love like that when Rogue's…"
"I still love her," Remy answered abruptly, still not comfortable with any of the words that might have followed in Warren's tirade, despite the truth in them, "but I had help makin' peace wit' dat."
"You're mad."
Remy laughed. "Maybe dat's true." He grinned even wider. "M'be madness is what's gon' get me t'rough dis. Or maybe it's love."
-,., -
Logan stretched as he got out of the car, feeling as though he'd been driving all day. It had taken them almost two hours to get through the heaving traffic around the airport caused by the sudden arrival of several delayed planes. The professor had been on the last of the lot, meaning they'd had to wait an extra hour for him to land and be processed. It didn't help that the protocol was that he had to wait until everyone else was off the plane before they could carry him off to his chair.
Now Logan was grumpy from having spent the whole day doing nothing, with Storm grinning at some private joke and asking him uncomfortable questions, and to top it off they'd hit rush hour traffic on the way back. He was just about ready to tear a hole in something. He looked up at the mansion's front door in the hopes of seeing Scott there demanding they joined the team for a training session, but no such luck. Movement caught his eye through the glass door leading into the kitchen and a smirk caught as he recognised the man sitting at the table.
Maybe that would do.
-,., -
"Hey Punk." Scott looked up sharply, but Logan's gaze was on Remy and no one else. The object of his attentions looked up slowly, one eyebrow raised and a grin growing.
"What?" he snapped in mock-irritation. Storm came up beside Logan, looking fairly ruffled herself in Scott's eyes, but Remy ignored her. She asked a silent question of Scott, who only shrugged and returned to his paper, keeping half an eye on the antics around the table. Storm smiled and left silently, leaving Remy with an empathic kiss - a brush of love across his shields. Remy acknowledged it and turned his full attention back to Logan.
"Ya wanna play?" The question was half-threat, accompanied by the sound of blades extending. Remy's grin widened.
"Bring it on, Runt." Standing quickly, Remy knocked his chair over and was across the table in seconds, colliding with Logan's chest before he could react.
"HEY!" Jean's voice called from the doorway to the sitting room, having turned the corner just in time to witness the stunt. "No jumping on tables!" She was ignored as Remy and Logan went rolling out of the door into the hall.
Scott looked up as she took a seat at the table. "Should we stop them?"
Jean looked around from where she had been trying to watch through the still-open door. "Have we ever before?"
"No, but…" Jean frowned as Scott hesitated. "Logan might hurt him," Scott finished weakly.
"You don't really believe that, do you?" Scott opened his mouth and then closed it with a short laugh.
"No, I guess not."
Jean smiled. "So we let them play."
There was a ceramic sounding crash from the hall.
"NO FIGHTING IN THE HOUSE!" Jean shouted, bolting from her seat into the hall. "GET OUT!" Scott sighed and smiled, going back to his paper. Everything was right in the world.
Master Post . Chapters 1-3 . Chapters 4-6 . Chapters 7-9 . Chapters 10-12 . Chapters 13-15 . Chapters 16-18 . Chapters 19-22 . An End In Sight
Author: Faceted Mind
Summary: After his return from Antarctica, Remy's trials are far from over.
For awesome visit:
groups.yahoo.com/group/logan_remy
http://www.squidge.org/~peja/cgi-bin/categories.php?catid=19&parentcatid=19
http://logan-remy.50megs.com/slash_stories_2.htm
Warnings: Slash, mention of child abuse and rape. Occasional medical/pseudoscientific info-blasts which despite researching may or may not be accurate; forgive me anyone who reads and shakes their heads in annoyance, I am no medic. Oh, and a little British spelling, which I'm sure you can forgive me for.
Notes: This is AU for how Remy gets back to the Mansion and in what state. No glowy green ladies here. A variety of Betas have worked on this fic; Cruel Illusion, Ross and "Point me at the coffee" as far as I remember, but I have done work on it since so all mistakes are my own. This was written in 2005/6, so I blame my youth for all rose-tinted-ness, the sequel (2008/9) is more cynical, jaded and tortuous. I've obviously hit my writing's teen-aged years.
Pairing: Future Logan/Remy, but not just yet ;)
Master Post . Chapters 1-3 . Chapters 4-6 . Chapters 7-9 . Chapters 10-12 . Chapters 13-15 . Chapters 16-18 . Chapters 19-22 . An End In Sight
-,., -
Chapter 19
-,.,-
Logan was sat with one arm wrapped around Remy's waist, holding him as he shuddered with a cold that came not from outdoors, but from the past. Remy was still sat on his bed, but he had pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He was rocking back and forth absently.
Logan forced himself not to react when Remy flinched away violently, pulling back into the corner of the bed. He held his place at the side of the bed, not making any move and waiting for Remy to acknowledge his presence. He knew what it was to get lost in memory, and the memories that he had brought up - his fault, damn it - weren't memories he wanted Remy reliving. Only patience would bring him out of this without adding to the trauma. Logan waited.
There was the faintest brush of a mind touching his, a shudder down his spine. He wouldn't have known what it was if he hadn't spent the last few months connected to that feeling in the most intimate of ways. He moved across the bed, reaching out to touch Remy's shoulder - the most innocent of touches, with as little threat as he could manage.
"Hey, Remy. Come back to me." Remy leant into his touch as Logan pulled him closer, until his head rested on Logan's shoulder and his arm reached almost automatically around his waist, tangling in his shirt, clinging to him like a lifeline.
"Hey." He murmured, grasping Remy's free hand with his own. "You back with me now?" Remy shuddered heavily.
"Oui."
"Wanna talk about it?"
"Why y' doin' dis, Logan?" Remy's voice was distant and subdued, and pulled more strongly at Logan's heart than any shared emotion of the last few months. "Why y' doin' dis for Remy?"
"Thought I explained that already. I care fer ya, Remy. I don't care what that means fer you or me, I just want ya to know it."
"How can y' be sure? Sometimes *I'm* not sure I didn' make somet'in' happen. I can' say f' sure I didn' do dis."
"Even if ya did, this is how I feel now. I can't think of any good reason not ta feel like this fer you, and I can think of a whole load of reasons why I should." Remy closed his eyes at this admission, fighting back tears. Why couldn't he move past it? Why couldn't he give in to this tidal wave of emotion? Why did they always stand in his way?
"Talkin' about dem… It gives dem strength. Sometimes it's hard t' break free." Pulling the blanket up from the bed to wrap around their shoulders, Logan thought about that. "Do ya feel stronger after?" He asked, thinking of Xavier's words to him when he had first talked about what he knew of his past - you don't get over traumatic events by hiding them away inside you. He had dismissed it as quack bullshit back then, but he was desperate for some way to make this *right*.
"I don' know, maybe." Remy didn't sound stronger, he sounded tired. Logan went to trace the dark smudges that outlined Remy's eyes, pulling back when Remy flinched away from his touch.
"Sorry." A plea as much as an apology. Logan turned his attention to the darkening sky outside the window, fighting back angry tears of his own. He wondered how it had gotten so late without their noticing.
"Why don't ya lie down fer a minute." He spoke up after he had collected himself again. "Maybe you'll feel better after some sleep." Remy nodded in vague assent, his mind obviously still far away. Shifting so that Remy could lie flat on the bed without releasing his hold, Logan rubbed gentle circles on his back until he stilled.
Waiting another few minutes, until he was sure that Remy was sleeping, Logan relaxed himself and pulled away, trying to take some perspective on what had just happened. He had come with an admission he felt sure would be dismissed or laughed at by the womanising Cajun, only to be entrusted with a dark secret that he had disturbed with his clumsy show of drunken affection. A secret that should have crushed all his hopes more surely than laughter would have. He might have preferred laughter to this horrendous truth. Yet, despite it all, Remy wanted to try. Wanted to risk everything on the hope that Logan could be gentle. That he wouldn't hurt him like the other men had. And trusted him enough to fall asleep at his side, despite what had happened - the thought struck him heavily. Remy *trusted* him. More than he'd ever known.
It was a little much to absorb to say the least.
He slid down so that he was sat on the floor beside the bed, one hand still loosely entangled with Remy's and balanced awkwardly on the bed behind him. He found himself studying that hand as his mind wandered, taking in the softening pink scars across his fingers, the pale skin that pulled tight across his index finger to resist that last bit of movement. As Remy relaxed further and rolled onto his back, his grip loosening further, Logan turned to the palm to find the scars there much reduced, already worn down in daily use.
"Is that what I've got ta do? Wear away the scars?" He was talking to himself, needing to say the words out loud to settle them in his own mind. He kept his senses trained on Remy for any sign of him waking. "These ain't scars, they're open wounds." He sneered to himself. "And who's fault is that, huh?" He sighed. "How the hell did ya hide this from everyone?" He quickly answered his own question with a startled revelation. "Ya slept with women. Lots of women. And ya flirted with all the men. It's all a cover." He was suddenly looking at Remy in a whole new way. He had fooled them all. "Oh Remy."
-,., -
"Logan?" His eyes flickered open.
"I'm here." He answered softly, still sat where he had fallen asleep at the side of Remy's bed. A sigh, and the creak of the bed as Remy laid back down.
"Why?" A weighted question, though Logan had no idea *where* it was weighted.
"Because ya asked me ta stay?" He hazarded. Another sigh, almost a laugh. The sound soothed Logan's heart, and he turned to look at Remy.
"Non… why… why *you* after all dis time?"
"Perhaps I was just in the right place at the right time?"
"Or the wrong place." Remy muttered under his breath.
"Maybe it would have been earlier if you didn't keep your emotions so caged in all the time." Logan retorted. Remy paused uncertainly, something unreadable in his eyes. The moment passed, and Remy seemed to withdraw, his lips pursed. They fell into an uncomfortable silence, their own thoughts sitting like a weight between them.
"Sometimes…" Remy stumbled into silence again. He almost visibly gathered himself. "Sometimes I wonder if I would still be attracted to men if it wasn't for them. Whether I would have ended up like this if I hadn't been for… without that experience." Logan's mind stalled as Remy's words sank in. 'Is he attracted to me because I'm like them? I'm the only type of man he knows in that way.' This spoken truth sat between them as each sought a way to move past this moment, each moment of silence cementing the uncertainty.
Remy wondered if speaking his fear had ruined his bond with Logan forever - whatever his kind words and platitudes the night before. To him, the silence and uncertainty he could feel in his mind were symptoms of the same thing - Logan couldn't be attracted to him now that he knew the reason why Remy was attracted to him. Logan couldn't live with him if he was going to be such hard work. Logan couldn't love him if he wasn't sure he could love him back.
To Logan, Remy's silence spoke of fear, and his scent spoke of confusion. Did he fear him now? Were his words meant to placate? To keep Logan from the quick anger he was known for? Would leaving wordlessly help, or deepen that fear? Should he try and reassure him? He dismissed both ideas. Either could be taken as a refusal of his brave offer, and if there was any chance that offer was true Logan wanted to cling to it.
If it were true…
All thoughts coming to a dead end, Logan did the only thing he could think to do. He packaged the last few days away in his mind to process later, and acted like nothing had happened.
"I had an idea about the parallel bars."
-,., -
Logan let Remy warm up as he went over to take a look at the parallel bars. They were attached at each end to the posts that supported them, and those in turn, were bolted to flat weights on the ground that stopped the bars shifting as the gymnast threw their weight about. The uprights had a series of points up the length at which the bars could be attached - allowing the equipment to be adjusted for different skill levels and heights. The points only went half way down though, to the height of the youngest and smallest user, and Remy was more likely to hurt himself falling from there than falling from the setting that matched his own height. Before Antarctica, Remy had always used the top setting on this kind of equipment, where even he needed a springboard to mount the bars, but that was simply impossible as he was. He needed too much information about his surroundings to be able to hit the board in the right place, make the jump and then catch the bars, and he was in a situation where any misstep could mean serious injury.
Logan glanced back at Remy in time to see him roll into a handstand in the center of the mat, a soft frown betraying how much the weight on his right hand still hurt him, before turning his attention back to the bars. Inspiration caught him, and he started dismantling the equipment. He was pulling the uprights out of their weighted casings when Remy finished his warmup and started making his way over to him.
Logan looked over long enough to make sure he was skirting the pit and the horse that was between them, spending a moment thinking on the conundrum of Remy's confidence - in his stride, his gesture, his posture - while they were in here and how he could begin to draw it out of him while he was elsewhere. Getting him drunk was one way, though that had had other less predictable results. Satisfied that Remy had acknowledged the path he needed to take, Logan turned back to his task.
"What are y' plannin'?" Remy asked curiously.
"Just an idea." He answered evasively as he spun the upright over and fastened it upside down in its casing.
"Are y' takin' apart th' bars?" Remy asked, his curiosity unquenched.
"Maybe."
"Why?"
"Wait an' y'll find out." Remy slumped down onto the mats, watching Logan's heated form shift about. It was cold in the hall, so he stood out more dramatically than usual, and so did the young student and her coach who were stood at the door watching curiously. "Whatever y' doin' - it's drawin' an audience." Logan didn't comment. Ignoring the other two, Remy brought his senses to focus on Logan. Faint hazes of motion were things that he was moving about - the parts of the parallel bars if his guess was right. The material was as cold as the room, but movement gave it a little kinetic warmth that faded as soon as Logan put it in place, handprints made by the warmth of his hands rapidly fading on the surface.
"Right. Done." Remy pulled back with a grimace as Logan flared into his line of 'sight', his body heat hugely bright compared to the tiny amounts he had been focusing on.
"Done what?"
"Come look." Remy's face darkened, but before he could state the obvious Logan caught hold of his hand and pulled him across the mats, pushing down on his shoulder to encourage him to kneel where he placed him.
"Logan… what…?"
"*Look*."
"I *can't*…" Remy ground out, his words halted suddenly when Logan grabbed hold of his hand roughly and *put* it on the bar that was now barely higher than his hip as he knelt on the ground.
"Learn ta do without. Things ain't ever gonna get easier until ya can accept that this is how you are now, and move on."
"Yeah, dat's easy f' you t' say."
"I'm doin' all I can." Remy bit back another sharp retort and sat back on his heels, sighing.
"'M sorry." He shook his head, closing his hand more solidly around the bar Logan had shown him and then reaching out to find the other on his right. "Y' dropped them?"
"Yeah, figured it'd be a bit safer fer what I want ta try."
"Y' still not gon' tell me y' idea are y'?" Remy smiled, finding the centre of the two bars with his hands and settling himself between them. "Y' sure dey're solid?"
"I'm sure." With a nod, Remy folded himself into a handstand on the widely spaced bars, his body perfectly straight from toe to crown. Holding the position until he was forced to give in to the strain and come back down, Remy knelt between the bars again and waited for Logan's idea.
It seemed to take Logan a moment to realise that Remy was waiting for him, and Remy smiled at the hint of embarrassment he could feel as Logan tried to cover up his drifting attentions.
"Let's get ya back to one-handed, and fer now I'll just watch ya back down." He said, his voice filled with a smile. Remy needed to be comfortable in the one-handed handstand before his plan would work, and though he was already comfortable again on the ground, the bars made the position more difficult to achieve.
It didn't take him long to get back into the movement, strength already returning through the training he'd been doing at Leadenhall. When Remy was satisfied he could get into the position without too many attempts, he took a seat between the bars again and waited for Logan's instructions.
"How much of yer surroundings do ya take in while yer up there? Can ya see movement?" Logan asked.
"I used t' be able to. Let me dodge t'ings even when I was doin' somet'in' else." Remy shrugged. "'S not somet'in' I've tried recently."
"OK, now's the time to try it. Up again, and this time yer droppin' back onta the pole, alright?" Remy frowned, but nodded, accepting that Logan's plan would either become clear or that the man would catch him when he missed the landing again.
Pushing up into the strained position took no less than complete control, every muscle straining to hold him there.
There was a sound of metal ringing on metal, and the noise almost distracted him enough to break his tenuous control over his body, but Logan's plan was suddenly very clear. To one side of him the bar was literally vibrating with kinetic energy as it recoiled from the blow. He dropped onto it perfectly, body following straight to the floor to take the weight of his body off his right hand.
He was grinning widely when Logan pulled him into a hug, his claws already withdrawn.
"We'll get ya back up there, Rems. Just you wait."
-,., -
"Hey 'Ro." He greeted Ororo as she approached from the garden. He could tell without looking that she'd been gardening. She was filled with the kind of peace that only nature gave her, and it spilled into the room around her.
"Have you talked with Remy?" She demanded tersely.
"Yes." He turned and met her eyes, let her see everything that his own held. She smiled gently.
"Then I will leave you to your meditation."
"Hey 'Ro." He called after her. She looked back expectantly. "He might need someone to talk to? We're goin' out trainin' after his lessons tomorrow, but…"
"I will see him this afternoon." She nodded.
"And 'Ro." She hesitated again, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"Yes?"
"Thanks."
"You are very welcome, my friend."
-,., -
Chapter 20
-,., -
Ororo smiled as a groggy looking Cajun answered the door that afternoon in crumpled jeans and an unbuttoned shirt. Being sent back to 'school' hadn't changed his propensity for late nights and even later mornings.
"It is good to know that some things will never change." She greeted him wryly. Ignoring his disgruntled snort, she followed him into his room. The curtains were open, but it seemed more than likely they hadn't been shut than Remy had been up early enough to open them. He collapsed into a chair with comfortable accuracy and Ororo settled herself in front of him patiently, perching on the edge of a table. They sat in comfortable silence in this way for a time, but Storm's patience was infinitely longer than Remy's and she knew it.
"Y' call jus' t' get me outta bed on m' only day off?" He griped.
"Ah, the life of a student." She teased. "No, I had need to speak with you, and since I have only a few hours in my day to spare and I have been up since dawn, I came now."
"M' sorry, Stormy. Jus' din' sleep very well las' night is all."
"More nightmares?"
"Non… for once." Remy smiled softly. "Had a lot t' t'ink about. Lot of t'ings changed over th' las' few days."
"Are you still thinking about leaving the mansion?" Ororo asked tentatively.
"I… I'm not sure anymore." Remy's expression dropped briefly. "I haven't thought about it."
"If that was not what was on your mind, what was?" Ororo asked, startled. " I thought Logan had come to talk you out of the idea."
"You sent him? T' talk t' me th' ot'er day?" Remy couldn't help but grin. "Have I ever tol' you how much I love you?" He jumped up and pulled her into a hug, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
"Well… I'm glad you are happy." She observed, a little bemused. "I had thought you might be annoyed with me, for interfering." Remy laughed out loud at that, a short joyful sound that made Ororo think of better times, when they had the run of their city and did things because they were fun. An old-minded child and a young-minded adult.
"'Ro." Remy reined in his laughter, grinning. "My 'Ro." He pulled her close again, and then let her take the chair, taking a step back to balance on the table's edge. "Do you know what Logan came to talk to me about?"
"He came to apologise for what he said when you were both drunk the other day." Ororo replied, confused again, but still smiling at Remy's obvious enthusiasm and good spirits. "He wanted to tell you something else… about Scott maybe?" She guessed. Remy seemed baffled.
"Scott… no, we din' talk about Scott." Ororo thought about the confusion of words and questions that Logan had exchanged with her before he had left, and the look in his eyes this morning. A little belatedly, she started putting things together. "'Ro… Logan an' I… we're…" The deep blush that Ororo was sure she had never seen before was almost as endearing as the stuttered attempt at an admission. She decided to save him before he hurt himself.
"I have never heard you speak this falteringly of a fledgling relationship before." Remy spluttered, wide eyed, for a moment before gathering himself.
"Not exac'ly my normal style, neh?" He replied with an inarticulate shrug, tension showing in every movement.
"And yet I don't think I've ever seen you so… animated over any of your previous involvements, Remy." Ororo's smile was threatening to take over her regal face as she watched emotions she had never before been privileged enough to witness scatter themselves over Remy's face. She wondered if Logan knew just how he was making the poor boy feel, or indeed if even Remy knew the full extent of it.
"I t'ink, maybe dis is important… f' me." He frowned, and Ororo could tell he was annoyed at his own inability to express himself. "He makes me strong, 'Ro. I din' t'ink I'd feel strong again… 'specially not *now*." There was a hesitation in those words, and Ororo knew what he meant by the vague comment - all his fears and vulnerabilities had been magnified by the darkness that had surrounded him in sight and mind since the events in Antarctica.
"I still do not know what I can possibly do to redeem myself regarding the events that passed in Antarctica."
"Tell me y' happy f' us, an' I'll f'give you." Remy replied with a sad smile.
"If only it were that simple. But I am happy for you, Remy, so happy. You deserve someone to make you strong."
-,., -
"Come on, focus." The handsprings were simple in this environment, with soft mats beneath him, no obstacles, no targets and nothing to avoid or deflect. No kinetic distractions. He'd done the movements a hundred times before, on the edges of buildings where the drop would surely kill him, and in the face of his enemies to avoid attacks on his very life. Now all he needed to do was to cover the distance across the mat, and he was finding it impossible. "One more time, alright?" Logan was a perfect outline at this distance, his movement and body heat making him bright in Remy's vision. The distance was six meters, and with two paces for momentum, about a metre each, he would have to extend the spring to make the last four, but it wasn't beyond his abilities. The trick was getting it *right*. Before, his accuracy in all things had depended on an awareness of *precisely* where everything was around him. With one glance he would know a room inside out and could have hand-springed off every stable bit of furniture in the place with his eyes closed. But he needed that first look. Without it, the thought was impossible.
Four metres to do the move. If his pace was a metre long… he would need to cover twice that distance in the air before his hands went down, that was two metres, and then the same again for the landing. He tried to process that into an image of the distance in his mind. How many times had they done this in his training - it seemed so long ago - picture a room, with a jewel in its centre… He took a deep breath and gathered his focus on that image. In his mind there was nothing but a six-metre square with four marks on it: foot, foot, hand, foot. The paces were precise and measured, giving just enough power to the move that followed, not an inch more, not an inch less. His weight went down a little heavily on his right wrist - he'd been too focused on the distances to think about transferring his weight - and it shortened the following move, if only by an inch. He landed perfectly, light as a feather and with barely a sound.
"Shit." He hissed. "An inch! A fucking inch and I would have had it!" Logan snorted, and Remy glared at him - a little off centre, Logan noticed, but he was certainly improving. "What are y' laughin' at?" Logan said nothing, but his humour escalated to a snigger. "What? I know I missed it." Remy insisted, not willing to be fooled.
"Yeah, ya know you missed it." Logan repeated through a grin, waiting for Remy to catch on. Remy's smile finally caught and grew.
"Yeah."
"Now ya need ta be able ta do that everywhere." Remy's smile faltered for a moment. "But that's somethin' fer tomorrow's session, right? Time ta get back."
-,., -
"Stormy came t' see me dis mornin'." Remy told Logan as he gathered his possessions into his satchel. Logan handed him a pile of clothes from the drawers and watched as he crumpled them into the bag. "Tol' her what was goin' on, 'tween us. T'ink she mighta known anyway, but I wanted t' tell her, y'know?"
"So what did she say?" Logan asked tentatively.
"T'ink she was happy f' us." Remy paused, as if thinking through their conversation again, and then nodded once and continued packing. Logan absorbed every little gesture and movement, learning the man in every moment that they spent together. Shaking himself out of his daze, he moved to gather the remaining clothes out of the drawers and handed them over, watching them follow the others into packed disarray. "Dere anyt'in' else?" Remy asked, pulling open drawers at random and running his hand along the bottom.
"Don't think so." With a sigh, Remy dropped onto his bed in a slouch. Taking a seat next to him, Logan wrapped an arm around Remy and let him slump onto his shoulder.
"Dis is nice." Remy murmured with a smile, shuffling to one side so that he wasn't so twisted.
"Yeah." Logan snorted to himself.
"What?" Remy demanded with a smile, happy to absorb Logan's good humour.
"Think how many people are gonna have heart attacks when we get back to the mansion." Remy's smile faltered a little.
"Are y' sure y'…"
"Don't say it." Logan interrupted. "Just don't."
" I was just…"
"I know what 'you were just', and I don't need it. I've made my decision, an' I'm sticking by it. I'm sticking by *you*, Remy." With a soft sigh, Remy slumped down until he was laying in Logan's lap, bringing his feet up to rest over his bag and off the end of the bed.
"It's gon'be hard movin' back in. Gotta get used t' th' house again, work out where ev'ryt'in' is wit'out makin' a fool of m'self." He shuddered.
"No one's gonna care what ya do, they're just gonna be glad yer home." Remy snorted.
"Maybe not when they realise I got no way t'earn my keep."
"No one's ever asked ya to earn yer keep."
"Dey never had to."
"And they still won't. Ya just have ta accept that yer one of us, and we ain't gonna turn you out fer somethin' that wouldn't of happened if it weren't fer us."
"Did y' not see Rogue? I did that t' her, made her int' *that*."
"Don't ever believe that." Logan's voice dropped, dead serious. "Xavier looked inta that kid's head when she first got here, and he ain't ever looked since. That man lives by the phrase: 'keep you friends close and your enemies closer'. Why else do you think he harbours some of the strongest mutants in the world when it's obvious that it's the *weak* ones that need protectin'? He's protectin' the rest of the world from us. I bet he coulda helped Rogue if he'd tried, but he never did. Never even tried. Because then she woulda been free ta go out inta the world. He wanted her close, wanted ta watch her." Remy's face grew pinched and he sat up, the motion putting a distance between them and taking him out of the reach of Logan's arm.
"I can't believe that."
"Why not?"
"Because den I'd have t' hate Rogue, and I don' t'ink I can do that." The thickness in Remy's voice infected Logan's throat too, and he moved to put his arm around him again.
"There's nothin' wrong with hatin' someone, even if… ya still love her." Remy pressed a hand to his mouth, stifling a sob. "Ya can't keep this bottled up forever, Rems, ya have to let it out." With a series of deep breaths, Remy brought himself back under control, falling back into Logan's arm as though he had exhausted himself.
"Why'd he let me fall so hard… if he knew…?"
"I don't think there was anythin' he coulda done about it." Logan sighed, pulling Remy close in his arms as though he could protect him that way. If only. "Maybe he thought you might of been able ta save her."
-,., -
Chapter 21
-,., -
Logan had expected many things for Remy's return to the mansion, but with the scene unfolding in the main hallway of the mansion, he could have been forgiven for thinking nothing had happened at all in the last few months. Remy was striding down the corridor, Jean on one arm, Ororo on the other, laughing and joking and generally creating noise.
Standing off to one side to avoid the fracas, Logan watched them advance like a marching band. They proceeded with overemphasised footsteps, jostling and bumping as it became obvious that the hallway wasn't wide enough for all three of them beyond a certain point. With bright laughter as the women he was sandwiched between fought over which of them should continue, Remy escaped from both their arms and moved quickly - if a little hesitantly - to stand beside Logan, grasping his arm.
"Save me, Wolvie!" he mock-cried.
"Hell no. I'm not getting involved," Logan laughed in reply.
"Remy, we have to do upstairs yet!" Jean called from across the hall, held back by Ororo's hand on her wrist. Storm watched the men's interaction from a distance, a knowing grin gracing her features.
"They helping ya map the grounds?" Logan asked Remy, still grinning at the image of them all parading down the hall.
"Yeah, suppos'dly," Remy replied with a raised eyebrow.
"Ya gonna need more help?"
"Not now, dey'll be offended." He grimaced. "Maybe later?" he appealed, a tone of voice that sounded odd without eye contact.
"Sure. Now go play nice with the girlies. I'll see you later." Remy stepped away with as much confidence as he could muster to rejoin the women.
-,., -
Logan stepped out of the TV room, the barely-audible footsteps all he needed to recognise Remy on the stairs. The Cajun's pace was a little slower, perhaps more cautious than usual, but little else had changed. He still exuded cheery arrogance and self- confidence, and Logan wondered - not for the first time - how much of that was automatic, designed to mask any real emotion that might leak out of his empathic abilities. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and Remy quickly joined him. Stepping off the last step and then hesitating - as though he had been counting the steps to the ground and been distracted - Remy sighed, leaning back against the banister and grinning. "Hey."
"How'ya doin'?"
"I'm okay, I t'ink." He laughed shortly. "Bin a busy day. Din' help I spend all day marchin' `round like `m in a brass band."
Logan grinned. "So - if they were doin' it wrong, how do I do it right?"
-,., -
Scott stood at the top of the stairs, watching as Remy walked purposefully around the mansion with Logan at his elbow marking points and pointing out obstacles. It was a process that he remembered despising from that time so long ago when it had been Hank guiding him and the mansion had been a huge frightening space, less like home than the streets he had walked before. The memory was almost physical in its intensity. He took a seat on the step at the top of the hall to watch and think. He knew what Remy was doing - touching every surface and edge not just to avoid walking into it, but to use it as a pointer to the next place. The space became a network of points, and straight lines joining each one. Touch *this* cabinet and walk parallel to it to reach *this* sofa or come through the door on the left and touch *this* sideboard and the sink was on your left, the hob on your right, another door on the far left back into the hall. Seeing them begin to work their way back around to the stairs, Scott pulled himself back together and headed off to bed, needing the presence of his wife to soothe away old fears.
-,., -
Taking a seat in the empty rec. room to let himself absorb the information - knowing it would take a few mistakes before everything was fully settled in his mind. With a sigh, Remy leant into the warmth of Logan's presence beside him.
"T'ank y'."
Logan snorted. "Like I woulda let anyone else do it."
Remy chuckled. "It's… reassuring, doin' dis wit' y'. It's worse somehow, somewhere 'm s'pposed t' already know. Jus' remin's me how stupid I was."
"How's that?"
"Not learnin' th' floorplan when I firs' got here. Mon pere… he would be disgusted how lazy I was. Jus'… truly never t'ought I'd have t' use dose skills. Never bin in a situation dat I couldn' see 'xactly where everyt'in' was."
"Ya seem ta be doin' alright. Ya know I expected ya t' drift a bit, towards yer dominant foot."
"I grew up walkin' tightropes and slacklines 'cross rooftops in de middle o' th' night. Y' learn not t' drift." Remy laughed. "Lapin - dat's my cousin - he got hit by a bird once, when he was jus' learnin' - we still had safety lines den, t' catch us. We always tol' him he was jus' so good dat even th' birds didn' see him." Logan smiled.
"You've never told me… told any of us anything like that before. About when you were a kid." Remy tensed a little, but held his smile.
"An' it's not f' repeatin', neh? Less everyone knows 'bout de guild de better."
"But you'd tell me?"
"I trust y'. Am I right to?"
-,., -
He could do this with his eyes shut. *Had* done it with his eyes shut before now, just for fun. But this was different. There was no peeking if things got tense. The mission planning had originally placed Xavier in position as communications hub between the two teams, but he had not returned from the meeting he'd been attending - putting his rescue as a possible second mission of the night if they heard nothing in the interim. Scott's fastidiously- planned mission had a place for every member of the two teams, and without Rogue and with Warren still under Hank's watchful eye there wasn't room for a whole lot of manoeuvring of personnel. On the spur of the moment Scott had asked Remy.
It had possibly been as much a shock to everyone else as to Remy, on his first night back in the mansion and his capabilities pretty much untested, but he had been quick to accept the request, taking only a moment to prove to Scott that he knew exactly where everything was in the control room and making sure they left before Scott could change his mind. But now, sitting here with a whole array of buttons in front of him and only his memory to rely on in finding them all, Remy was beginning to feel delayed panic setting in. Why had he accepted, what was he thinking? Every X-man's life was on the line every time they left the mansion. What had he been thinking?
He ran his fingers over the buttons and switches on the console in front of him, listing the names in his head and forcing down his doubts. Scott was leading one group and Storm the other, so the two most important switches were side by side on his right. The general open channel was on his left, a round button as opposed to the stick switches for the individual communicators. Activating the comm. systems and the tracking systems with a practice-easy gesture, Remy settled back to wait. There was a confirmatory beep as the Blackbird came online and began firing up.
"Comms. ready. Y' good t' go." he told Jean, who he knew would be sitting beside Scott at the Blackbird's comms. station. With the quiet "acknowledged" in reply, Remy switched on the Blackbird's internal microphones to listen to the ship take off. The room was filled with the quiet banter of his teammates, a testament to the ever-present nervousness before any mission. There would be no sign of it by the time they touched down.
"No leaving anyone behind on this mission, guys," Scott joked from the front.
"Not even Bobby?" came Warren's light-hearted reply.
"OK, maybe Bobby," Jean answered into Scott's exasperated silence.
-,., -
The mission was simple. Three mutants were being held for an upcoming auction being held by a front company called Youki Global. The company had been using freelance bounty hunters to collect mutants and make profits selling them to anyone who would bid - be they slaver, scientist or psycho. They had been watching the compound where they knew the mutants were being held, but so far had had no luck pinning down the organisers, or any of the backing for the on-the-side criminal activity. Scott was loath to attack the company itself without any real evidence, but they had to get the captive mutants out before they were sold.
The compound looked like a miniaturised prison, with snipers and spotlights on every corner and one single intimidating building in the centre. There was a signal-dampening field over the entire area, but the communications equipment at the mansion was strong enough to cut through it. This meant that any communication between the X-Men would have to be either verbal or relayed via the mansion's main communications system instead of through the Blackbird's systems on the ground. One team would be going in from the north - taking out the two spotlight towers on that side on their way in - and the other from the south. The south team - lead by Storm - would head for the roof of the building and clear any remaining resistance from there while the north team - led by Scott - would head into the building for the captives.
Remy found himself holding his breath as the two teams disembarked, quickly splitting off and spreading into the undergrowth or taking to the air. He'd run through the communicators while the team had been in the jet, checking each name off against the list in his memory and making sure everyone had a working comm. unit. With communications as they were they needed to make sure they could all contact the mansion as needed.
"Relay to Cyclops. Team 2 in place and awaiting go ahead." Storm's voice.
"From Storm, Team 2 in place," Remy quickly relayed across.
"To Storm. Move in."
"From Cyke, move in." The process was arduous, but it was a way around the complications of being completely out of contact with anyone else on the team at any point, something Scott was becoming quite phobic of with his X-Men dropping like flies.
Remy waited in the silence as the teams moved in. He would have no idea what was going on without opening a channel - something he couldn't do without distracting the X-Man in question.
He knew that Angel would be taking out the spotlights from above for his team, and Psylocke would be doing the same for hers as the others moved in to disarm the men guarding those towers. Jean and Bobby would take out the men guarding the roof, then Scott and Logan would take out the guards that stood between them and the main doors and they would enter the building. Jean, Warren and Storm would stay in the air, looking out for…
"To Gambit, confirm status of Angel." Storm's voice interrupted his train of thought.
"Angel, confirm status," Remy relayed, almost before he had gotten over the shock of hearing his codename for the first time in… why wasn't Wings responding?
"Nothing from Ange, Storm." he replied quickly, before switching channels back and trying again. "Angel, respond." He flicked all four team switches. "Blue team, someone confirm where Angel is."
"I don't see him," Jean replied quickly.
"I see him, he's down." Bobby's voice, breathless. Nothing for a moment and then; "We're out of sight, and safe. But… I really think we need Hank out here."
"Angel's down an' safe wit' Iceman, Storm. He's requested Hank."
"Get him out here," Storm confirmed quickly.
"Angel's down. Iceman's askin' f' Hank out dere," he told Scott and Hank simultaneously.
"Wait." Came the terse command from Scott and everything stopped as the channels closed, leaving Remy in silence once again. Remy's pulse was racing as he waited, and he almost jumped as Hank's voice cut in.
"Relay to Bobby. I'm on my way, I need a location." Remy quickly passed the information on to Bobby and the location back to Hank and seconds later, Scott's voice.
"Relay to Storm, hostages are safe, pull out as soon as we have confirmation that Angel can move."
"From Cyke, hostages are safe, pull out when Ange is ready."
"To Cyclops. We're pulling out now. Stay safe." Remy relayed the message and sat back with a sigh of relief.
"Gambit." Remy jumped up in his seat and took a minute to find Hank's switch, cursing himself.
"Beast," he replied.
"We're coming in hot with Warren. I need a code kit and a gurney in the hanger and things set up in the infirmary. Can you do it?"
"Oui." He confirmed. "Is everyone out of radio quiet?"
"Yes. We're on our way." Remy hit the open channel.
"Comms. on auto." He confirmed.
"Thanks Gambit," Jean confirmed, back on the communications console in the jet.
-.,, -
Remy hurried down the corridor, counting doors because he knew he wasn't going to have a minute to spare. He flicked all the lights on as he hit the infirmary, following the wall left around the infirmary until he reached the big blue alarm button on the wall. Beneath it was the box with the code kit inside. Lifting it awkwardly - the action taking away the use of his hands as guides, he moved across the room until he kicked a gurney and put the box down on it. Circling the bed he took off the brake and pushed it forward towards the door. There was a crash of something metallic falling and, swearing, he circled the bed again until he came up against a metal implements tray. Kicking it out of the way he changed tactic, going to the front of the bed and pulling it instead. It took him a minute to get the bulky bed properly lined up with the door and then through it into the corridor outside so that it would be ready to run to the hanger once the lab was set up.
There was a basic kit and a simple stretcher in the hanger prepared for emergencies, but when Hank had someone back at the mansion to do the running around, he liked to have the gurney there waiting for him. It meant he didn't have to move the patient around so much, and the hallways were more than wide enough to accommodate the gurney.
He hesitated when it came to pulling out dressing and implements trays, wracking his brain to try and remember the shape and size of the two Hank always wanted out when he was coming back in with a code. One had a green label, the other a blue. The red, yellow and black were for other things, but none of that helped him right now. In the end he pulled out one of each of the stacks, knowing that even having them on the bench with the others would be easier for Hank than having to pull them out of the cupboard himself. Flicking on the last two lights and the oxygen pump, Remy grabbed hold of the gurney and ran towards the hanger.
He hesitated outside the door to the huge bay where the Blackbird usually resided, realising it had been a long time since he'd been down here, and last time there had been bits of the other Bird all over the floor. He stepped just inside the doorway tentatively and pulled the trolley in. When the Blackbird arrived he'd worry about getting to Hank, until then he was sticking with the safe option.
He didn't have long to wait.
-,., -
Remy sat on the bottom step of the grand staircase, waiting for news. The whirlwind that was an injured teammate had passed him at speed and he had moved out of the way, knowing there wasn't anything more he could do to help and he was just going to get in the way if he didn't move. He looked up as the lift started to hum, and its movement lit it brightly. "He okay?" Remy asked Logan almost before the door to the lift was fully open. Logan only sighed in reply, wandering over to sit beside Remy on the bottom step.
"Not really. Hank's worried."
"What happened?"
"He had another heart attack," Logan answered. "He's probably not gonna be back on the team after this, even if he pulls through. His body can't handle it anymore." Remy fell quiet.
"Shit."
"Yeah."
-,., -
Chapter 22
-,., -
Remy woke shaking and hyperventilating, a face imprinted on his mind. Every time it was the same face, some emotion seen there calming him from his panic, only to strike him down in the darkness. Take him, struggling and crying, until he hadn't the strength for either any more. Scanning the shadows again and again for some lost icon. Someone to take him home.
Struggling to bring his breathing back under control, Remy wished he could look into all the corners of his room to make sure they were empty. He knew they were, his kinetic sense told him as much, but somehow it wasn't as reassuring as *looking*.
He couldn't restrain a shout as a hand touched his back, becoming a figure that rose out of nothing so very close - too close. The hand was withdrawn almost immediately - but he was across the room with a charged card in his hand before he could think, and only the voice stopped his throw.
"Remy, stop!" Logan. It was Logan. In his bed because he'd asked him to stay the night. He'd held him, his embrace gentle in a way he'd never imagined for a man who was outwardly so coarse. He tossed the card and let the charge dissipate, dropping to his knees as the adrenaline seeped out of him. Logan dropped back onto the bed and Remy watched as his warmth disappeared in the camouflage of the body- warmed sheets.
"I din' see y'. 'M sorry."
"Ya had a nightmare?"
"Oui."
"About Warren?"
Remy snorted, almost feeling guilty that his thoughts weren't for his injured team mate. Not that he was part of that team anymore, he reminded himself. "Non."
"Should I just shut up?" Logan asked, the hint of a smile in his words. Remy came and sat back down on the bed, feeling a little stupid kneeling by the far wall. "Or should I leave?" The sound of his smile… and what a strange thought that was… the sound of his smile was gone from his words when Remy didn't reply.
"Non…" he denied quickly, "please. I'm sorry. Jus' gettin' m' head back t'gether."
"No worries." Remy tugged at his T-shirt, damp from sweat and clinging to his back. He never usually wore clothes to bed, but tonight he had made an exception, and he was beginning to regret it.
After the mayhem of the mission that evening, Remy had thought he'd never be able to sleep - his body pulsing with adrenaline and the knowledge of what he'd accomplished. Becoming a *useful* and *active* member of the team, if only for that one night. But as soon as he'd reached his room all of the adrenaline had seeped out of him and he'd barely been able to make it to his bed. He'd been quite happy sitting there watching the dance of movement and heat as Logan had undressed, *knowing* what was being revealed and fighting down his own rising heat, but as soon as he'd reached the bed Remy had become a little ball of tension; barely able to lie still, let alone sleep. Logan had reached out to touch him and he'd flown from the bed so quickly he'd tripped over a chair and spent a minute on the floor working through a couple of the richer shades of embarrassed while he apologised profusely. Logan's suggestion had worked and, clothed, he'd been comfortable enough to fall asleep in Logan's arms, feeling warm and totally protected. And now he'd jumped out of bed *again*, this time to threaten Logan with a card.
"Merde," he muttered to himself.
"What?" Logan pushed.
"I'm hopeless, y'know. Can' even spend th' night wit' y' wit'out…" He gestured vaguely.
"Ya had a nightmare. 'S nothin' big. Live through some of mine, then I think we'll be more than even." Remy laughed lightly and crawled back into Logan's arms, kissing his hands as they closed around him.
"T'ank y'," he sighed contentedly. "T'ank y' so much."
-,., -
Remy woke feeling completely refreshed despite the night's trials, sure that it was heinously late in the afternoon and everyone would be up and out already. Logan was already up, the warmth of his body long since faded. But Remy hadn't woken feeling so relaxed in a very long time and he savoured it for a while before forcing himself out of bed and into the real world.
The day that had started so well quickly turned sour as, forgetting that he was at the mansion now and not in Leadenhall, he got out of bed on the wrong side - literally - and stubbed his toe on the desk. Swearing, and trying not to hop around, knowing that was asking for more pain when he was still trying to reorient himself, he put both feet on the ground and found the edge of the desk with his hand.
He knew he had to check in with Hank at some point since his return to the mansion, but he wasn't sure the big doctor would welcome him if he was busy with another patient. It was an excuse he thought he might be able to milk for a good long while if he put some effort into it.
Sitting back down on the bed, he considered going back to sleep and trying to find that serenity he'd had earlier. He was now terrifyingly aware that to get breakfast he'd have to go through whoever else happened to be downstairs, and probably be subjected to their curiosity. Any slip he made today would seal their judgements of him.
"So, fuck 'em," he muttered to himself, with bravado he felt none of. Forcing himself up and out of bed, he went to search out the clothes he had unpacked whilst half-asleep after the troubling events of the night before.
-,., -
The curiosity around him spiked as he wandered into the kitchen. He could see Scott by the sink - his face obscured by the energy that radiated from his eyes and stopped short when it reached his glasses. There was someone sitting on the sofa in the other room, and he knew he was visible to them through the big open doorway between the two - it was either Betsy or Jean, with long hair moving below her shoulders - and Bobby, half a shade 'darker' than the others in his sight, was in the armchair watching the TV.
"Any news on Ange?" he asked, feeling the tension that had been present even before he'd walked in.
"He's pulling through," Bobby answered quietly, unusually subdued.
"Hank decided against surgery last night. He's going to wait until he knows more, do some scans when Warren's had a chance to recover a little." Remy almost jumped at Betsy's voice - he'd assumed that she would be down there with Warren, and Jean would be closer to her husband. Betsy sounded tired.
Remy nodded and wandered the rest of the way into the kitchen, hesitating for a minute.
"Not'in' moved while I bin gone?" he asked Scott quietly, feeling foolish but unwilling to make an even bigger fool of himself.
"No. You should find everything where you expect to."
"Except your concealed packs of cigarettes," Jean growled from the doorway behind him. Remy turned and flashed her an apologetic grin. "Did I tell you I found *four packs*? And in the *kitchen* of all places. I dread to think how many more there are around the house." Only four? Remy pondered, reaching into the cabinet for a mug and trying to subtly check his hiding places for the remaining pack.
"Hank wanted to see you, by the way," Scott added. "He was a little annoyed at me for roping you into last night's mission before your checkup." Remy's fingers brushed across the pack of cigarettes in the sauce jug - rather delicate and rarely used in this household - that Jean had missed and discretely dropped them into a pocket, enjoying the knowledge that he still had one or two tricks up his sleeve. Carefully pouring himself a cup of coffee, he dropped into an empty seat at the kitchen table, scowling at the foiling of his plan to avoid Hank.
"D'y' t'ink he'd notice if I didn' turn up?" Betsy snorted from the other room.
"You're such a pansy when it comes to checkups," she said, coming to join them at the table.
"Just go, Gambit. Get it over and done with," Scott pushed. Remy sighed.
"So, d' we hear from th' professor?" Gambit asked, aware that no one seemed to be planning the big rescue mission.
"His plane was delayed. He was going to contact Jean psychically last night, but realised she was in the middle of something. He left a message and Storm and Logan went to pick him up. You just missed them."
"'S a relief." Remy swirled the last dregs of his coffee around the cup, trying to draw it out.
"Yes it is," Scott sighed. "Now don't think I've not noticed you're delaying. Hank, now." With a melodramatic sigh and an overemphasised slouch, Remy shuffled out of the kitchen and headed down towards the lab.
-,., -
Wandering into the lab, Remy found Warren in the bed closest to Hank's office, surrounded by humming monitors and machinery. Remy stayed quiet, not sure if he was awake or asleep.
"If you're looking for Hank he's in his office," Warren provided tiredly, lifting up on one elbow. Awake then.
"T'anks, I'll wait," he answered, finding a seat in the corner to hide in. Logically, he knew that if he just went and talked to Hank it would all be over before he knew it, and he could minimise the time he would have to spend in the lab with Warren, but he was going to have to work up some courage if he was going to *willingly* approach the doctor. Usually the Doctor found him before he found the courage to take that step. It had taken enough to get him through the door.
"You know… sometimes I think you're being brave." Remy looked up as Warren spoke again. "And then I realise it's not in your nature, so I guess you're just stupid." His insults were a little more desperate than usual, grasping at some sense of normality as his world failed.
"Guess so," Remy replied amiably. "Should I be afraid?"
"What?"
"I'm too stupid t' be brave? Neh? So is dere somet'in' 'm s'pposed t' be 'fraid of?"
"Are you not afraid? Not at all? Your life is… ruined, and by someone you *loved*. Are you not scared that there's nothing after this? Nothing but… living?"
"Livin' not 'nough f' you, Wings?"
"You know what I mean. No more superheroing, rescues, thieving… No more falling in love, one night stands. Just days and days of *working* to get from one minute to another?"
"Fallin' in love's easy if y' let it happen, Warren. Y' have Betsy…"
"As if she's going to stick around if I can't… be myself anymore." Remy shook his head, exasperated.
"Betsy ain' in love wit' y' image, Warren. She actu'lly loves *you*, t'ough god knows why, dere ain' much 'bout you dat's lovable."
"We were talking about you, not me." Warren's reply was almost a growl.
"Right," Remy replied wryly.
"How can you talk about love like that when Rogue's…"
"I still love her," Remy answered abruptly, still not comfortable with any of the words that might have followed in Warren's tirade, despite the truth in them, "but I had help makin' peace wit' dat."
"You're mad."
Remy laughed. "Maybe dat's true." He grinned even wider. "M'be madness is what's gon' get me t'rough dis. Or maybe it's love."
-,., -
Logan stretched as he got out of the car, feeling as though he'd been driving all day. It had taken them almost two hours to get through the heaving traffic around the airport caused by the sudden arrival of several delayed planes. The professor had been on the last of the lot, meaning they'd had to wait an extra hour for him to land and be processed. It didn't help that the protocol was that he had to wait until everyone else was off the plane before they could carry him off to his chair.
Now Logan was grumpy from having spent the whole day doing nothing, with Storm grinning at some private joke and asking him uncomfortable questions, and to top it off they'd hit rush hour traffic on the way back. He was just about ready to tear a hole in something. He looked up at the mansion's front door in the hopes of seeing Scott there demanding they joined the team for a training session, but no such luck. Movement caught his eye through the glass door leading into the kitchen and a smirk caught as he recognised the man sitting at the table.
Maybe that would do.
-,., -
"Hey Punk." Scott looked up sharply, but Logan's gaze was on Remy and no one else. The object of his attentions looked up slowly, one eyebrow raised and a grin growing.
"What?" he snapped in mock-irritation. Storm came up beside Logan, looking fairly ruffled herself in Scott's eyes, but Remy ignored her. She asked a silent question of Scott, who only shrugged and returned to his paper, keeping half an eye on the antics around the table. Storm smiled and left silently, leaving Remy with an empathic kiss - a brush of love across his shields. Remy acknowledged it and turned his full attention back to Logan.
"Ya wanna play?" The question was half-threat, accompanied by the sound of blades extending. Remy's grin widened.
"Bring it on, Runt." Standing quickly, Remy knocked his chair over and was across the table in seconds, colliding with Logan's chest before he could react.
"HEY!" Jean's voice called from the doorway to the sitting room, having turned the corner just in time to witness the stunt. "No jumping on tables!" She was ignored as Remy and Logan went rolling out of the door into the hall.
Scott looked up as she took a seat at the table. "Should we stop them?"
Jean looked around from where she had been trying to watch through the still-open door. "Have we ever before?"
"No, but…" Jean frowned as Scott hesitated. "Logan might hurt him," Scott finished weakly.
"You don't really believe that, do you?" Scott opened his mouth and then closed it with a short laugh.
"No, I guess not."
Jean smiled. "So we let them play."
There was a ceramic sounding crash from the hall.
"NO FIGHTING IN THE HOUSE!" Jean shouted, bolting from her seat into the hall. "GET OUT!" Scott sighed and smiled, going back to his paper. Everything was right in the world.
Master Post . Chapters 1-3 . Chapters 4-6 . Chapters 7-9 . Chapters 10-12 . Chapters 13-15 . Chapters 16-18 . Chapters 19-22 . An End In Sight