Chapter 2
You used to have a brain
But now you don’t get even the simplest of things
I can draw a little picture
Or even use my hands
I try to explain but you just don’t understand
Man you’re really losin’ it
And you’ve really done a lot of junk now
But you keep on abusin’ it
What in the world happened to you?”
What
Happened To You? – The Offspring
It was almost midday when Logan awoke. His head should have been pounding and his muscles should have ached, but thanks to his healing factor, the only thing that seemed strange was that he couldn’t remember what had happened the night before.
He stretched and climbed out of bed, trying to put together pieces of memories.
He and Gumbo had been at Harry’s, drinking too much, as usual. He remembered Remy talking about how much he wished Cyke would just get off his back about the whole hitting Jean thing. Remy had been really drunk, but something else as well…
Logan rubbed his temples, encouraging recollections. He thought he remembered seeing Remy take cocaine, but that couldn’t be right. It wasn’t the kid’s style.
But why couldn’t he remember?
Unless… Maybe he’d been stoned too.
He turned back to the bed to pull the sheets straight, and stopped dead still.
Half the bed was soaked in blood. How hadn’t he noticed that before? And whose blood was it?
As he strained his mind to take him back to the night before, he remembered they hadn’t bought anyone home with them. Maybe there’d been a fight? But Logan wouldn’t still have been bleeding by the time he got to bed. Maybe he’d had a fight in the room. Maybe with Remy…
Logan cringed as he saw a trail of bloody footprints lead out of the door and down the hallway. Yup, chances were that was Remy’s blood.
But then more questions, why had he been in Logan’s room? How had he been hurt?
Of course the clever thing to do would be to go and ask Remy what he remembered.
Logan pulled on some clothes, disturbed to see dried blood on his skin, he decided a shower would have to wait until he had this sorted out and made sure Gumbo was okay.
He followed the trail three doors down to Remy’s room; he took a deep breath and opened the door.
Remy was curled up on the bed, surrounded by blood. With a shaking hand, Logan rolled Remy over; the kid’s shirt fell open to reveal three parallel gashes.
Wolverine’s trademark.
“Shit.” Logan muttered, the wounds seemed to have stopped bleeding, but Remy looked awful.
At the sound of his voice, Remy’s eyes flew open; he threw himself to the end of the bed and threw up.
He was vomiting for about five minutes before his stomach let him relax, staring down into the bloody puddle of puke, he groaned.
“Mon dieu.” He sat up again and looked at Logan, “I feel like shit.” Then he started coughing.
“Ya look like it too.” Logan said, he pointed to the Cajun’s chest, “Know anythin’ about that?” he asked, he didn’t know what to expect, anger, confusion, but certainly not what he got.
Remy started laughing hysterically.
“Y’ don’ ‘member!” It wasn’t a question, but Logan answered anyway.
“No, do you?” he growled.
“Vaguely.” Then he started dry heaving over the edge of the bed, when he sat up again his nose was bleeding. “I t’ink I’m still fuckin’ trippin’, je suis desole.”
“Ya what?”
“Je suis desole, I’m sorry.” Then his eyes started rolling back, Logan grabbed him round the waist and shook him.
“What’re ya sorry for? Wake up!”
Remy’s head lolled, and then he looked up at Logan and grinned, a horrible, creepy grin like the grin of a corpse,
“I fucked y’.” He waited to see the registration on Logan’s face, then continued, “I drugged y’r drink, den I fucked y’ on y’r bed.”
He chose that cliffhanger moment to pass out, and as much as Logan shook him, he wouldn’t wake up.
It couldn’t be true. The kid was just fucking with his head… But it would explain everything; why he didn’t remember anything, why he’d slashed Remy’s chest.
Logan decided that if it were true he would kill Remy.
He left and went to the infirmary.
“Hank, test this.” He picked up a syringe and filled it with his blood.
Hank’s eyes widened, Logan stayed away from the infirmary as much as he could, and, although he managed to keep it a well-guarded secret from the others, he had an acute phobia of needles – understandably. Hank took the dripping syringe from Logan.
“Uh, what exactly is it you want this tested for?” he asked, he was more used to doing this for Gambit, the stupid kid was always showing up saying he’d slept with some prostitute and wanted to know if he’d caught anything.
“Drugs.”
“Ah yes, I thought I saw you heading to the pub with young Remy last night.” He shared the blood out into five test tubes, and then stoppered them.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Logan asked, he was suddenly looking very angry.
“I assumed you knew?” Oops, there went patient/doctor confidentiality, “Remy has a severe drug problem, he’s been trying to get over it, clean for a month, up until last night, I guess.”
“You never told me.”
“I thought he would have told you; he idolises you.” Hank took a deep breath. “Since Antarctica he has been addicted to cocaine, I found out when I was running some… routine blood tests on him. I decided it would be best to tackle the narcotics before starting to try getting him to quit alcohol.”
“I had no idea.”
“Was he stoned last night?”
It was now Logan’s turn to draw a deep breath.
“Yeah. He says he put something in my drink, which fits, ‘cos I can’t remember a damned thing about last night. Except I know at some point I slashed his chest, there’s blood all over my bed.”
This didn’t sound good, Hank had really gotten to know Remy recently, and he had made a little understatement when he said Remy idolised Logan, it was a little more than that. But Remy was suffering, his drug problem was serious, Hank had wondered if maybe Logan would be the only one who could help.
But if Remy had drugged Logan’s drink, well, the implications were plentiful. Remy had been in Logan’s bed when he slashed his chest, it was probably self-defence on Logan’s part. A drug problem was no excuse.
“I could do a, uhm-”
“No, that won’t be necessary, Hank.” He cringed as he thought of his next task. “I have a bad feelin’ about this.”
Somehow, on his way back up to his room, Logan managed to miss Remy coming down from his to the infirmary. He wore only tiny boxers and the open white shirt he’d been wearing the night before which was now bloodstained. Half way down the stairs he saw Scott coming up towards him.
“Hey Cyke.” He said, he’d already noticed the curious expression on Scott’s face, he knew he had to act normal; he pulled the shirt closed over his bloody chest.
“You do realise you’re covered in blood, don’t you?” Cyclops asked, raising one eyebrow,
“Er, yah, I kinda noticed.” Then he smiled that smile that normally made people’s knees go weak, fortunately, Scott was used to Remy coming on to him, and it was a smirk to him. Nonetheless, he no longer felt the desire to press Remy for further details.
After that, Remy legged it the rest of the way to the infirmary. He had to see Hank.
Hank had finished running tests on Logan’s blood; the results had been depressing to say the least. He had tested positive for a drug similar in properties to rohypnol.
Hank sighed, they’d been so close to ending this distasteful episode of Remy’s life, something must have happened to make him this… depraved?
“I fucked up, Hank.” It was Remy’s voice, coming from the doorway.
“Oh Remy.” Hank shook his head, “This is unforgivable, you drugged and raped a team member, did you not?”
Remy’s face took on a horrified expression,
“Non! Dat’s not what happened!” He had started backing away already. “Non, I drugged him…” He did look truly disgusted with himself, “But Logan wanted uh, ‘it’.” His eyes were pleading and somewhat innocent. “I shouldn’ have done it, but… y’ know how I feel ‘bout Logan, I wasn’ gon’ pass de opportunity up.”
He fell to his knees on the floor, eyes creased up and teary. Begging for forgiveness.
“Remy, calm down, tell me exactly what happened.”
“’Kay.”
End of Chapter 2