A week after the second tape arrived Hank hit pay dirt. The tape�s packaging had contained traces of chemical substances only stored at one or two warehouses in the country. One of those had been empty for years, but had recently gotten a new tenant�a tenant that had paid a lot of money to have the warehouse refitted with some unspecified scientific equipment.
They planned the attack as carefully as time would allow. If Remy were still alive they wanted to get him out as easily as possible. Still, with the few hours they�d had to cobble together a plan, they knew the mission was by no means failsafe. The mood was tense.
They had decided to stick together, in the interest of a hasty retreat. But that meant that searching the compound took much longer than any of them would have liked. Eventually the inevitable happened. A guard rounded the corner, and before any of them could react he had tripped the alarm. The team began to run, chasing through the corridors in a desperate search. Finally they had narrowed down the options to one long corridor. Behind them they could hear soldiers advancing.
�Storm,� said Scott, �take Wolverine and Iceman and finish searching this hall. �We�ll try to give you as much time as we can, then catch up with you.�
The three nodded and took off running down the corridor. At the first intersection they were attacked by more guards.
�Keep going,� shouted Bobby. �I�ll hold them off.� He spread his hands and a wall of ice began to form, blocking the hallway.
At the end of the hallway their was a door, thickly guarded by about a dozen men. They lowered their guns in Wolverine and Storm�s direction.
�Go get my brother, Wolverine.� Said Storm. Her eyes began to turn white. Wind whipped through the corridor, wrenching the guns in the men�s hands until they could no longer aim. Wolverine unsheathed his claws and charged the door. The men jumped out of the way like bowling pins and Wolverine shoved his way through.
In contrast to the corridor the room he found himself in was unnervingly quiet. But it wasn�t empty. Wolverine looked up and his breath caught in his throat.
Remy sat in the center of the room, chained to some sort of chair. Behind him, Sinister stood, tilting Remy�s head back and pressing a razor to the long pale throat. Wolverine couldn�t tell if Remy was conscious or not. He was laying absolutely still in Sinister�s hands. His body was wasted, skeletally thin. Scars and bruises covered him. Wolverine fought to cover his mounting horror with rage.
Sinister glanced up and nodded in acknowledgement of Wolverine�s presence. Then he went back to shaving Remy�s narrow throat.
�I�ve found that straight razor gives far and away the closest shave,� he remarked calmly. �None of those cheap plastic razors you can by in the dime store come close. This isn�t a problem for me obviously, but for someone like Remy with such delicate skin, it is important to use the right equipment. Otherwise, he can be hurt so easily.� The razor bit slightly into the skin. Dark blood welled up and began running down Remy�s bare chest. �Just like that. How clumsy of me.�
�You�ve had your fun, Sinister.� Growled Logan. �Now let him go.�
Sinister looked up from his shaving and frowned. �I think I�ve given you a warning before about coveting my property.� He said. �Why don�t you turn around and leave, and we�ll forget this ever happened?�
Wolverine growled again.
�No. Well, it didn�t seem likely but I thought I�d try.� Sinister sighed, and put down the razor.
In a rush of wind Storm burst into the room blasting the glass from the blackened skylight and letting in a little rain. She was followed by a few remaining guards. She rose into the air and hit Sinister with a lightening bolt square in the chest. With a cry of rage Sinister turned towards her to attack.
Wolverine used the distraction to run to Remy and cut his arms free. But he hadn�t seen the chains on Remy�s ankles. As he bent to undo those Remy leaned forward and tipped onto the floor.
Logan swore and kneeling by Remy�s limp frame found the kid staring at him. His breath caught again. If seeing Remy�s damaged body for the first time had been terrifying, looking into his ravaged eyes was infinitely worse. There was no recognition in them. Remy�s eyes were utterly flat, open, but not conscious of where he was, or who he was.
�Remy.� Logan croaked, moving towards the ravaged body.
Remy�s eyes snapped back to him. Suddenly recognition flashed across his face, chased away by shame and terror. Logan reached out to touch him, to wipe the humiliation and fear from his lover�s face.
Remy flinched from his hand, and cried out, his voice was barely audible. He crawled a few inches from Logan and curled up, trying to make himself as small as possible. He looked at Logan through his blackened eyes, terror and self hatred etched plainly on his face.
Rage flooded Logan, turning his vision white. This couldn�t be his kid. Not Remy. Not this pale thing, lying on the floor, broken and trembling.
Wolverine spun to find Sinister had thrown off Storm and had been standing behind him enjoying the exchange between himself and the Cajun. Logan�s voice cracked. �What did you do to him?�
�Not much of anything actually. It was mostly the work of my newest addition. I believe you met her? Pestilence.�
<The one who had infected Remy with the gripper.> �At my behest she broke down LeBeau�s shields. It took a bit of preparation, of course, to get him to the point where his shields would come down completely. Once they had though, we were able to perform several interesting experiments involving created memories.�
�You put things in his brain?�
�Well, not really, we just rearranged a number of memories, tweaked them for dramatic affect so to speak, and gave the whole thing the right sort of emotional tone. Shame and pain were the main themes. Self hatred, despair, the usual. LeBeau choose the subject matter himself. Your face came up quite a bit as I recall.�
With a roar Wolverine leapt at Sinister, catching the other mutant off guard and knocking him back against the wall. Wolverine�s claws dug into Sinister�s chest again and again, blood flew. His vision was gold with fury. He knew nothing but sating his need for vengeance.
�Logan. Logan.� There was hand on his arm, a voice pulling him back from unconsciousness. �Logan it�s alright. Sinister is unconscious now.� Jean had her hand on his blood splattered arm. �We�ll take care of him. Hank could use your help with Remy.�
Logan looked over to where Hank was trying to wrap Remy in a blanket to carry him to the Blackbird. Remy was inching away from him, deperate to be left alone.
Overpowering Remy would be easy, of course. But no one really wanted to inflict anymore on him, no matter how gently. Wolverine walked over and knelt down beside him.
�Logan.� Remy�s voice was barely a whisper and was strangely distorted. Logan looked at the twisted line of the kid�s jaw. Rage rose up again and he saw Remy flinch. He quashed his emotions as best he could. One thing at a time.
�Logan. Don�t let�..Don�t let them take me back.�
�It�s okay Remy.� Said Logan, at sea. �We�re going to help you.�
�Non, non. You can not. You must leave Remy here. Please Logan listen to me. It is important. You must not take me back.�
�Of course we�re taking you back kid. We�ve been looking for you for more than two months.� A lump rose up in Logan�s throat. He didn�t know if he could do this. He reached out to brush the hair from Remy�s eyes. The kid flinched back again.
�Don�t touch.� He said. �Don�t touch.�
�It�s okay Remy.� Logan said, as gently as he could. �I won�t hurt you. No one is going to hurt you again.�
Remy shook his head, becoming more agitated. �Non. You don�t understand. Don�t take me back. Please I��
His head fell back, he lost consciousness.
As gently as possible Logan wrapped the frail body in the coarse wool blanket. The kid hardly smelled like anything, as if a part of him were already gone. Logan picked him up and carried Remy to the waiting Blackbird.
�Is he going to be okay?�
Hank looked up from the ravaged form. �I don�t even know why he�s still alive.� There was a faint edge to doctor�s voice. His hand was shaking. As bad as expectations had been, Remy�s condition had exceeded all of them.
Jean reached over and touched his arm. �It�s okay Hank. Just take it one thing at a time.�
Hank nodded. �He�s malnourished and dehydrated, we need to start an IV.�
The pair worked for almost 22 hours straight. When they finally opened the lab door they found the team assembled, waiting for a briefing. Scott took one look at them and postponed it for an hour to give them a chance to shower, and eat something.
Logan spent the intervening minutes sitting at the side of Remy�s bed listening to the monitor beep in time to his lover�s heart beat. He had suspended all thought, all feeling until he heard what Beast had to say.
<Let him come back to me, please. Blinded, crippled, scarred anything. But let me have my kid back. I don�t know if I have it in me to lose him this way and keep going.�
An hour later they had all gathered back in the waiting room. Beast stood up. �I think he�ll live.� He said. The room was deathly quiet. �More than that it is hard to say. He�s suffering from shock, hypothermia, malnutrition, exhaustion and dehydration, all of which had reached nearly fatal levels. He has several broken bones and some internal bleeding. His hands will need to be repaired in Scotland, no Earthly technology will be good enough to save them.
�He was given no eye-protection and his eyes have been damaged by too much exposure to light. The good news is that Sinister obviously had long term plans for our friend and therefore was careful not to wound him fatally. While this is the good news from a corporal perspective, it is also the bad news from a psychological one. I will turn the floor over to Jean and the professor to talk more about the most serious of Remy�s injuries.�
Hank sat down. The professor cleared his throat. �Both Sinister and Creed psychologically discharged into Remy, a process commonly called venting. Put simply it is the release of all negative emotions and thoughts into another mind by force. Given what we know about the proclivities of both Sinister and Creed and the state of their emotions, it is impossible to calculate exactly how damaging this must have been. However, as with many traumatic experiences there is cause to hope that Remy would have been able to overcome it in time. However, he has sustained another injury which may prove far more serious.
�Sinister�s telepath managed to lower Remy�s shields almost completely. Once they were down this left Remy far more vulnerable to telepathic attack than even a normal person would have been. She then entered Remy�s mind and trapped him in his own memories while she forced him to relive painful moments, both real and those she and Sinister created, over and over again. Remy would have been incapable of distinguishing these events from reality, and since she heightened the pain they caused it is impossible to tell how much damage she was able to inflict.�
The announcement was greeted with silence. Then Storm asked, �Can we see him?�
Xavier nodded, �I have given him a temporary shield to protect him from casual thoughts and emotions. Hopefully he will be able to get his own shields up soon. To be safe I think we should limit the number of visitors to two at a time.� People nodded and began drifting away, or returning to their seats to wait for a chance to see Remy.
Logan looked through the tiny window in the lab door and saw Remy�s chest slowly rising and falling. He stood there for a long time watching the little movement.
******************************************
Remy�s physical injuries healed well, better than Hank had hoped actually. In only three weeks he was judged stable enough to make the trip to Scotland for his hands to be healed. Hank sedated him for the journey and Remy didn�t wake up until the Blackbird had already returned to the mansion. The operation was a complete success.
The mental injuries did not heal as well however. In fact they seemed to get worse. Remy was barely conscious most of the time. After those few words to Logan in Sinister�s lab he stopped talking entirely. Sometimes he would lay with his eyes wide open staring at the ceiling. Other times his face would be the same mask of pain and self-hatred that Logan had seen at Sinister�s lab. Still Xavier said there was reason for cautious hope.
�He�s re-established his own shields.� He said. �In record time, no less. That�s evidence of some self awareness.�
Logan stood at the window to the lab watching Remy breath in and out. He would be hard pressed to explain his emotions towards Remy, ever since they had gotten him back.
On one hand he cared desperately that Remy get better. In fact he could think of little else. On the other hand, staring at the slight figure in the bed Logan felt curiously detached, as if he had already lost his kid, as if the figure in the bed were someone else entirely.
By the second month after Remy�s return no one could deny that there was something seriously wrong. Instead of getting better, Remy had become almost catatonic. He didn�t speak. At first he had responded to basic verbal commands but eventually he had stopped doing even that.
�I wish I knew what was going on.� Said Xavier. �Physically he�s much stronger. His shields have come back very well. I�ve never seen them this strong. Why isn�t he getting better?�
Eventually Xavier decided that he, with Jean for backup, would breach Remy�s shields and attempt to figure out what was wrong. Most of the other X-men had planned a sort of vigil, waiting to hear the prognosis.
Wolverine had other plans. �You help in your way Prof,� he said, �I�ll help in mine.�
He had finally located Pestilence, the one mutant who might be able to tell them what was wrong with Remy since Sinister was being held in stasis in Scotland. She was in Chicago, looking for another job.
It would take a day and a half to find her and figure out what she knew. He should be able to get back in time to learn what Jean and Xavier had discovered.
He caught up with her outside of some dive of a bar, and banged her up against the wall a few times. He felt her reach out for his mind. �Uh-uh.� He said, pressing his blades against her throat. �Play nice.�
She considered that. �What can I do for you?� she asked grudgingly.
�LeBeau isn�t getting better.�
�That doesn�t surprise me.� She smiled. �We fucked him up good.�
Wolverine growled. �Bragging not withstanding, tell me what�s the matter with him.�
�What�s the matter with him is that LeBeau is a sap.�
Logan blinked at her. �Huh?�
She snorted. �Think about it dumb ass. What�s the only reason that little worm does anything?� Logan frowned again. She used his moment of distraction to lash out at his mind, the mental equivalent of a fast hard kick to his groin. He fell backwards and she sprang away back down the alley.
Logan lay in the darkness thinking about what she had said.
<What�s the only reason he does anything?>
The image of Remy getting to his knees before Sinister flashed through his mind. He sat bolt upright. <Jesus.> He was running to the little plane, knowing in his gut he would be too late.
***************************************
It was two hours before he could get back to the mansion, three hours of trying to get someone on the com and of tearing out his hair when he couldn�t.
Docking, he dashed from the landing pad to the lab busting into the waiting room with a crash. Scott looked up annoyed, about to reprimand him. Logan cut him off.
�Have they started yet?�
�About fifteen minutes ago.�
Logan flew to the door. �We have to stop them.�
Scott grabbed him. �We can�t. Interrupting a working telepath can be extremely dangerous.�
�Believe me, not stopping them will be more dangerous. I talked to Pestilence. You have to stop them NOW.�
Scott nodded. �Alright, I believe you. I�ll see if I can reach Jean.� He paused for a moment then frown. �I can�t get through to her.� Then he paled. �Something�s wrong.�
Suddenly Scott doubled over and collapsed on the ground moaning. From inside the lab came a cry of pain.
�Shit.� said Logan.
He ran into the lab. Both the professor and Jean were collapsed on the floor screaming. The monitors attached to Remy were going wild.
�I don�t know what�s happening.� Yelled Beast. �I can�t bring them back. I don�t know how much more of this they can take before stroking out.�
Logan looked around helplessly. Short of killing Remy there was nothing he could do. Even that might not work.
Then suddenly Remy stiffened on his bed. His eyes flew open, blazing red, like they hadn�t done since he�d been captured. His hands clenched on the bed rails and his breath began to come in short pants. Then he gave a long drawn out cry, not of pain but one of effort. It rang through the room like a siren and faded into silence. Remy collapsed back onto the bed again.
On the floor Xavier and Jean had stopped screaming. They slowly sat up and opened their eyes.
Scott burst into the door. �What the hell was that?�
�It was Remy,� Xavier whispered. �Sinister damaged Remy�s ability to control his powers. It didn�t matter at first, he was to weak to hurt anyone with them anyway. Then he got stronger and he was losing control. So all Remy knew how to do was build up his shields, locking himself and his empathy in. When Jean and I breached his shields we got suck into the vortex. We could have died.�
�Then what happened?� asked Scott.
�Remy saved us.� Said Jean softly. �He burnt himself out. It released us.�
�Burnt himself out? I didn�t even know that was possible.�
�It shouldn�t have been.� Said Xavier, �I don�t understand it.�
�Needs must.� Murmured Logan. He looked down at Remy. �Burnt out? What does that mean? The kid�s not an empath anymore?�
Xavier shook his head. �We won�t know for sure until he wakes up, but I�m afraid not. The damage he did to himself was deep and irreparable.�
Logan stroked the still face. <What�s the only reason LeBeau ever does anything?> <To protect someone else, regardless of the cost to himself.> It was a great loss, it would change everything between them. But on the whole it was not so bad, a small price to pay if the kid would wake up now.
Remy remained unconscious for three days. But Hank didn�t seem particularly worried about it. �He�s sustained a sever injury. He�ll come around when he�s healed a little bit.�
Then on the third day Logan was eating lunch when he heard the page. He rushed down to the lab and met Jean at the door. �He�s awake?� He could feel himself grinning like an idiot, but he couldn�t help himself. �He�s finally awake?�
�Yes.� Said Jean seriously. �But Logan, there�s something you need to know. Loga-�
But Logan had already pushed past her into the lab where he froze.
Scott and Xavier and Hank were all there, the expressions on their faces told him something was wrong. They gathered around a figure sitting up on the foot of the bed, a figure that looked like Remy and yet was nothing like him.
�Remy?� Logan asked stupidly.
The man that wasn�t Remy nodded. �Hello Wolverine.�
�What the hell�s going on?� Logan demanded, his voice rising.
That seemed to snap Scott out of his daze. He grabbed Logan�s arm. �Wolverine, come out into the hall. There�s something we need to discuss.�
�The fuck I will.� said Logan. His language was slipping. He was afraid. �We can talk in here.�
�It�s alright.� said Hank, �We can talk here. Logan, listen to me carefully. The damage Remy sustained during the burnout was more severe than we first thought. When the empathy went it took Remy�s emotional nerve center with it.�
�What?� Logan felt like he had stumbled into a nightmare.
�It�s true.� Said Remy. �I can�t feel anything.� It was the way he said it that convinced Logan, utterly flat, and not at all disbelieving, no joke, no smile, unlike the way Logan had ever heard the Cajun say anything.
He stared at the man on the bed for a few minutes, met his dark eyes. There was nothing there. No recognition, tenderness, anger. Just open space.
Logan turned and walked out of the med-lab. When he reached the door of the mansion he opened it and kept on walking.
Remy watched him go. It was strange. Intellectually he knew he should feel loss, sadness, but instead there was just a great gnawing which felt the same as Jean�s hug felt.
�It�s fine.� He told the faces around him, as somber as if someone had died. �Really, I�ll be fine.� And one way or another he realized that it would have to be true.