X-Men (616): Remy LeBeau. 029. Birth.
Title: The Child With the Devil's Eyes
Fandom: X-Men: Remy LeBeau
Characters: Jean-Luc LeBeau, Remy
Prompt: Birth
Word Count: 745
Rating: G
Author's Notes: Italics mean that the words are translated to English from another language. In this case, Cajun French.
Jean-Luc never knew the mother's name. Not that he wanted to. The Antiquary hadn't hired him to know that. He had hired the Patriarch of the Guild of Thieves for exactly one purpose: to steal away the child with the Devil's eyes.
It wasn't a comfortable thing for him to break into a hospital to steal a baby. The same hospital, as it turned out, that his own son, Henri, had been born in. It made it easier for him to find the nursery. He stood in front of the window, gazing over the bassinets and wondering which one was the one he was looking for.
"Look at that one over there."
The rapid patter of Cajun French drew Jean-Luc's attention. A nurse and another woman, possibly a friend or a mother, stood at the other end of the glass pane. The nurse bent her head in, trying not to be overheard. He followed her pointing finger to a single bassinet set far apart from the others.
"The doctor that delivered him called him a demon when he opened his eyes." Her tone was filled with awe and no little fright. "The mother has already gone. Doesn't want anything to do with the child. Not that I blame her a bit. Who would want to be known as the devil's mother?"
The other woman shook her head and the two moved away. Jean-Luc shuddered, crossing himself. What did the Antiquary want with such a child anyway?
It was several hours before he could make his move. While the nurses on duty were chatting and ignoring anything but each other, he slipped into the room and stole the bundle from the single bassinet. They had unknowingly made his job easier by isolating the baby.
Jean-Luc resolved not to look at the baby until it was in the hands of the Antiquary. It was a resolve that didn't hold as the boy began squirming and fussing. The thief paused, then pulled back the blanket to look into a set of distinctive red-on-black eyes. Eyes that he had last seen nearly a hundred years before.
He barely stifled a gasp of surprise. The only man he had ever known with those eyes should have been long gone. But then, he had been able to do things that no person should be able to do either. Time travel seemed such a strange idea, but was it really any stranger than a man who could create bombs simply by touching something?
It was stupid, really, to pin such hopes on a baby only a little more than a day old. Especially one destined for the Antiquary. Jean-Luc sighed, settling the baby against his chest and cradling his head gently. The memory of the man this boy might become haunted him.
"You never tol' me all de t'ings dat happened to you in your life, petit," he said softly, looking down into those too large eyes. "An' I pro'ly ain't gonna be doin' you any favors here by takin' you to de Antiquary. But it's better dat dan de orphanage, neh?" He ran his fingers over the baby's bald head. "I owe you a debt dat I can't even begin to repay. Wish I could jus' take you home an' raise you myself, but no t'ief-no man-ever tries to duck out of a promise. Hope someday dat you un'erstan' dat."
The baby looked up at him and yawned. Jean-Luc laughed softly and smiled fondly at him. "I don' know everyt'in' dat happened 'tween now an' when we firs' met. But I know dat you are gonna grow up to be a good man. An' maybe we'll meet 'gain 'fore den, hein?"
The Antiquary, of course, was delighted with his new prize. It made Jean-Luc sick to watch him fawn over the baby boy as though he were some interesting toy. That there were rumors about what the Antiquary did with the other children in his "collection" only made his skin crawl.
"How lovely. How exquisite." The old man brushed his fingertip over the baby's arm and looked up. "Did you see if de hospital had a name for him?"
Jean-Luc looked up and paused for a moment. The hospital hadn't had a name for him, but that hardly mattered because he knew the answer. "Remy," he said, glancing at the baby and wondering if this would be the last time he ever saw him now. "His name is Remy."
Fandom: X-Men: Remy LeBeau
Characters: Jean-Luc LeBeau, Remy
Prompt: Birth
Word Count: 745
Rating: G
Author's Notes: Italics mean that the words are translated to English from another language. In this case, Cajun French.
Jean-Luc never knew the mother's name. Not that he wanted to. The Antiquary hadn't hired him to know that. He had hired the Patriarch of the Guild of Thieves for exactly one purpose: to steal away the child with the Devil's eyes.
It wasn't a comfortable thing for him to break into a hospital to steal a baby. The same hospital, as it turned out, that his own son, Henri, had been born in. It made it easier for him to find the nursery. He stood in front of the window, gazing over the bassinets and wondering which one was the one he was looking for.
"Look at that one over there."
The rapid patter of Cajun French drew Jean-Luc's attention. A nurse and another woman, possibly a friend or a mother, stood at the other end of the glass pane. The nurse bent her head in, trying not to be overheard. He followed her pointing finger to a single bassinet set far apart from the others.
"The doctor that delivered him called him a demon when he opened his eyes." Her tone was filled with awe and no little fright. "The mother has already gone. Doesn't want anything to do with the child. Not that I blame her a bit. Who would want to be known as the devil's mother?"
The other woman shook her head and the two moved away. Jean-Luc shuddered, crossing himself. What did the Antiquary want with such a child anyway?
It was several hours before he could make his move. While the nurses on duty were chatting and ignoring anything but each other, he slipped into the room and stole the bundle from the single bassinet. They had unknowingly made his job easier by isolating the baby.
Jean-Luc resolved not to look at the baby until it was in the hands of the Antiquary. It was a resolve that didn't hold as the boy began squirming and fussing. The thief paused, then pulled back the blanket to look into a set of distinctive red-on-black eyes. Eyes that he had last seen nearly a hundred years before.
He barely stifled a gasp of surprise. The only man he had ever known with those eyes should have been long gone. But then, he had been able to do things that no person should be able to do either. Time travel seemed such a strange idea, but was it really any stranger than a man who could create bombs simply by touching something?
It was stupid, really, to pin such hopes on a baby only a little more than a day old. Especially one destined for the Antiquary. Jean-Luc sighed, settling the baby against his chest and cradling his head gently. The memory of the man this boy might become haunted him.
"You never tol' me all de t'ings dat happened to you in your life, petit," he said softly, looking down into those too large eyes. "An' I pro'ly ain't gonna be doin' you any favors here by takin' you to de Antiquary. But it's better dat dan de orphanage, neh?" He ran his fingers over the baby's bald head. "I owe you a debt dat I can't even begin to repay. Wish I could jus' take you home an' raise you myself, but no t'ief-no man-ever tries to duck out of a promise. Hope someday dat you un'erstan' dat."
The baby looked up at him and yawned. Jean-Luc laughed softly and smiled fondly at him. "I don' know everyt'in' dat happened 'tween now an' when we firs' met. But I know dat you are gonna grow up to be a good man. An' maybe we'll meet 'gain 'fore den, hein?"
The Antiquary, of course, was delighted with his new prize. It made Jean-Luc sick to watch him fawn over the baby boy as though he were some interesting toy. That there were rumors about what the Antiquary did with the other children in his "collection" only made his skin crawl.
"How lovely. How exquisite." The old man brushed his fingertip over the baby's arm and looked up. "Did you see if de hospital had a name for him?"
Jean-Luc looked up and paused for a moment. The hospital hadn't had a name for him, but that hardly mattered because he knew the answer. "Remy," he said, glancing at the baby and wondering if this would be the last time he ever saw him now. "His name is Remy."