Remy�s head dropped against Logan�s shoulder in sleep, by now a somewhat traditional occurrence. Logan suspected the kid liked to nap like this because something about it kept away the nightmares. Logan had his own reasons for enjoying it, but he wasn�t telling.
Suddenly the kid murmured as if in sleep. His hand began to slowly circle Logan�s chest, then massaged further down along his legs.
�You flirting with me kid?�
Remy opened his big, sleep filled eyes. �Oui.�
Hardly daring to breathe, Logan ran a large hand down the side of the kid�s face until his hand was cradled in the hollow of the smooth skin of the jaw and the neck.
�Remy,� he said. �Oh god. Remy.�
�I have been waiting for you for so long.�
The young man leaned over and touched his lips gently to Logan�s. Logan�s skin exploded with sensation. He reached around and grabbed Remy by the back of the neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss until both of their lungs were burning. Remy straightened up laughing and pushed Logan down on the couch beneath him. Still laughing he spread his hands across Logan�s chest. Logan�s clothing erupted and vanished in a shower of sparks.
�You are mine, monsieur.� Remy ran his tongue down the thin line of hair that bisected Logan�s abdomen then, slowly, slowly up his hardened cock. When he had reached the top Remy swirled his tongue around the tip a few times then drove his mouth down hard over the straining shaft. Logan moaned in pleasure as Remy began to suck harder and harder, twisting and turning his tongue in ways Logan would have sworn were not possible. When Logan was spent, Remy wiped his mouth delicately. �You taste good monsieur.�
Logan reached out and casually flipped the Cajun onto his chest. He bared the butt cheeks to reveal the tiny round rose of the boys tight anus. He ran his tongue around it a few times as Remy moaned his enjoyment. But his cock was hard again and he couldn�t wait any longer. He pressed the dripping tip against the tight opening and shoved in.
The boy was not ready yet. He whimpered a little and twisted under Logan�s grasp. Logan placed a firm hand on the back of his neck. �You like this kid?� he whispered.
Their lovemaking had taken a darker turn. Logan began thrusting in and out, getting more and more turned on by the little sounds of pain, pleasure and protest the boy made beneath him. His cock was wet beneath the boy�s legs. He thought it was pre-cum from being so amazingly aroused, or Remy�s spit from the blow job. But looking down he saw that his penis was red with blood and more blood ran down the delicate legs of the body beneath him.
Blood.
Suddenly the monster inside him leapt to life. He began pumping in and out of the boy as hard as he could lost in the wild joy of his own arousal, exulted by the screams that were coming from the boy now. He thrust in, one more time as hard as he could and came.
He was already hard again by the time he pulled out.
Remy was lying on his stomach, crying now, trying to cover his face. The Wolverine would have none of that. He flipped Remy onto his back and pinned him with an arm, using his other hand to wrestle with his cock.
He wanted to see the terror in the boy�s eyes when he came inside him. He wanted the scent of fear and blood to take him over.
�Please, no, monsieur. Please.� Remy was begging now, but Wolverine casually backhanded him. The boy�s head rolled from side to side, stunned, his eyes unfocused. A thin trail of blood ran from his nose.
Three more times Wolverine raped the boy, and each time the kid was less and less responsive. Soon he began cutting the boy just to get some reaction during his thrusting.
At first it was just little nicks, but as the boy became weaker from blood loss he cut deeper and deeper to provoke a reaction. Finally he dropped back onto the damp red couch spent.
Before him the tortured body looked at him with pain-filled and despairing eyes. He breathed in once and exhaled a last word.
�Beloved.�
Logan awoke gagging, the sweat pouring down his face. For a moment he lay in bed, his heart pounding. Then he rolled over and stalked to the bathroom. He splash cold water on his face and looked at his reflection in the dark. How did the mind even conceive of these things? What inside him created these visions of horror and blood shed?
Inside him the beast laughed. As if he needed to ask.
He smelled the kid before he saw him. There, standing in the doorway, hesitating.
�Mon ami. I heard a noise. You OK?�
�Fine�
�Anything I could do?�
�You can stop being a damn nurse maid and let me be. Would that be too much to ask?�
There was the slightest pause. �Non. Goodnight mon ami.� Then footsteps down the hall.
He had been unforgivably rude, hateful even. He drew a shuddering sigh. What could he say? <Sorry kid. I just woke from a dream in which I sodomized you and killed you for sport and it was the best sex of my whole life.> Logan flung himself back on his bed. Never in his life had he been more conscious of the animal within.
********************************************************************
Occasionally they would go down to Joe�s bar, for a little pool or to kick back after a mission. Usually it was just the younger or wilder set, although sometimes Scott, Jean and even Hank could be talked into going along. But tonight it was just Warren, Rogue, Remy and Logan. Then Warren drank a little too much too fast and Rogue volunteered to take him home.
Their presence had been the only thing inhibiting Remy and now that they were gone he began to drink even harder. Being near Logan was beginning to be unmitigated torture. He couldn�t touch him and not touching him, not even casual contact, was becoming like a physical pain.
So he drank, and then he drank some more. He had a pretty high tolerance, but eventually even the highest of tolerances will be worn away under a waterfall of bourbon.
Logan watched silently. <Something�s up with the kid tonight. He�s barely said two words all evening.> That was fine by Logan, after last night�s dream he was too shaken to even remember what a normal chat with the Cajun might consist of.
Both men sat, trapped in their thoughts. Last call came and went.
�C�mon Cajun.� said Logan. �We should get you home.�
Remy didn�t even protest as he was bundled on the back of Logan�s motorcycle. He lay his head down against Logan�s shoulder blades and thought about nothing but the warmth beneath his cheek. In front, Logan�s awareness slowly shifted until he was concentrating more on the thin curl of the body behind him than he was on the road.
The wind and the cold had sobered Remy up sufficiently that he was able to get off the bike himself. He even managed a fair imitation of his usual confident manner as he turned to Logan and said, �Want a night cap?�
Logan knew he shouldn�t, but he didn�t want the night to end. All that waited for him upstairs were dreams. He shuddered. �I�ve got a fifth of Maker�s.�
�Good. Remy will drink your Bourbon. You can have the special stuff.�
That year for Christmas Beast had given Logan three bottles of clear liquid that smelled like a combination of Gasoline and corn pudding. �Er, Thanks Hank, what is it?� Hank had launched into an explanation of dimers and molecular structure and the properties of Logan�s super-fast metabolism. �...and anyway, it�ll get you drunk.� He�d finished.
Logan believed him, so much so that the three bottles worried him enough that he hadn�t taken a single sip. And he certainly wasn�t going to start now, horny and frustrated and (yes admit it) freaked out as he was.
�I don�t think so Cajun.�
�Ahh, too bad.� Remy drew himself up gracefully and sketched a bow. �Then monsieur, you have had Remy at a disadvantage long enough. Goodnight.� And he turned to walk away.
As bluffs go it wasn�t very good, but that night it worked all right. Logan was sitting on the back steps with a half empty glass clutched in his hand before he even knew what hit him. By the time he had finished the glass he hadn�t even realized he had been struck. He tilted his head back.
�God I feel so-� he couldn�t even finished the sentence. He felt relaxed, the beast slept within him and for the first time in his memory he was able to pause the unconscious effort he always maintained to rein it in. He felt his muscles slack, felt the alcohol singing in his veins. So this was why people drank. He had never understood before.
Remy sat across the porch grinning at the older man. �Feel good mon ami?�
�Yeah.� Logan�s voice sounded strange even to himself. He took another long pull from the bottle. Damn this stuff was strong.
They sat on the porch for another hour or so matching shots. Remy�s vision was beginning to blur. Logan was now sitting so close he could feel his breath against his bare arm. If he just shifted an inch to the right they would be touching. He wanted to reach out, run his fingers through the coarse black hair. But Logan would kill him. Logan didn�t want him.
<You could make him want you.> Remy froze. The warm alcohol in his stomach had been replaced by ice. <I could never do that.>
<You could. It would be easy. You did it before at Sinister�s lab.>
<They were the enemy. They deserved it>.
<Deserved it? They enjoyed it. You could make sure he enjoyed it too.>
<No. I couldn�t. It would be terrible. How could I do that to him?>
Remy leaned his head back against the porch rail. His throat was tight. God it was so hard, this isolation. He had friends here, and he loved them all, but he was so lonely. He would never be able to be intimate again. <Everything you touch you destroy, LeBeau.> Neither in mind nor body.
The voices warred in him. <All I want is one night,> he thought, <one night to be cherished by someone I cherish. One night in an entire life of being alone. I want to do what�s right. Can�t I have just one night of my own? Is that too much to ask?>
<Yes, LeBeau, for you it is too much to ask.> His head dropped in defeat.
�Hey kid, are you okay?� Logan�s voice was slurred, his eyes concerned. He reached over clumsily and let one hand drop onto Remy�s knee.
Heat flashed up LeBeau�s body, eroding what was left of his self control.
<Fuck it, I�m damned already. I�m going to get my pound of flesh.>
He raised his eyes to meet Logan�s. �Yes, mon ami. I�m more than alright.�
Desire ripped through Logan so hard and fast he was rocked back against the porch.
�Jesus kid.� he groaned and lunged.
Their mouths smashed together as they kissed and kissed, hands running up and down the other�s hard body, their fingers twining through the other�s hair. They pulled each other closer and closer, until the embrace was a crushing one, so desperate were they in their desire that it seemed they could not be close enough to one another. Even inside the other�s skin would be too far away.
In the back of his mind Logan knew that this was wrong, that it was dangerous. He told himself to stop, knowing that he would injure Remy, perhaps even fatally. A voice screamed in his mind to stop while he could. But a new animal force had taken over him demanding that he have the kid now and the beast within him leapt up to embrace that voice utterly. He ran his hands down Remy�s sweat soaked back.
<This is mine. He is mine and I am his.>
He pulled Remy closer, massaging his butt, scratching him lightly, biting softly to get the full flavor of him. <You are an animal, you will destroy him utterly.>
<No,> he thought, <I would never.> Then both voices were lost in a flood of desire and Logan could not think any more.
How they reached Logan�s bedroom Remy would never know. His body was alive with sensations. His muscles sang with the release of a desire he had been holding back for far too long. Logan, Logan everywhere. Logan touching him and caressing him, and bruising him in his eagerness to be near him. Just another�s touch after so long was bliss, that it was Logan�s.....
<I will remember this, mon coeur. Make it good, it will have to last me through many sleepless nights.>
Then Logan was before him, kneeling on the bed while Remy stood above him. They were naked.
�You want me, Logan, don�t you?� asked Remy. He wanted to remember this. He wanted to remember Logan saying the words.
�Oh god, Remy, yes.� Logan bent his head down and grabbed Remy�s cock in one hand.
�You need me, Logan, don�t you? You need me the way that I need you.�
�Yes, Remy. Yes.�
�You love me yes? And tonight you are going to show me. This one time you will do this for me?�
�My love,� said Logan, �there is nothing I wouldn�t do for you.� He lifted his eyes to Remy�s face. His eyes were flat and burning with mindless obsession.
All at once the full horror of what he was doing crashed down on Remy. He stumbled back from the bed holding his hands before him. �No,� he cried, �How could I?� Self hatred brought him to his knees. <My one friend. My one friend and this is how I repay him. God.> Nausea washed over him. He struggled not to vomit.
The beast in Wolverine�s desire had been torn away in Remy�s coming to awareness. What remained cooled quickly as self-loathing from Remy�s still unshielded mind washed over him. His own mind began echoing those feelings. Hatred for Remy, contempt for Remy. Into a feedback loop that grew rapidly on itself.
LeBeau felt the emotions from Logan and drank them in as his punishment. Then, desire to leave his friend�s mind in peace pulled him from his apathy and spurred him to close his shields.
Logan sank onto the bed, his mind and body still limp from Beast�s liquor. Remy came to stand over him and brushed Logan�s face with his hand one last time. Logan�s eyes were still dazed. His breathe reeked of whatever was in the bottle. He would probably remember none of this in the morning. But Remy would. The sickness from what he had done would hang on him for ever. The memory would stop him ever using his empathy to control another person again.
�Good night, mon coeur.� he whispered and slipped from the room. In the darkness, Logan moaned.
**********************************************************************
Logan awoke certain his head was going to split open. The day before, he had discovered why people drank. That morning he discovered why people vowed to stop.
Remy didn�t look much better off. In fact, if anything he looked worse.
�Jesus, Cajun.� groaned Logan over the breakfast table, �What the hell happened last night?�
Remy stiffened. �What you mean, mon ami?�
�I can�t remember anything. The last thing I know I was reaching under the bed for some of Beast�s special sauce.�
�Nothing happened.� said Remy uncommunicatively. �We drank, then I helped you upstairs to bed.�
Scott was not happy. �I don�t intrude on your social lives, but they sure as hell better not intrude on team training.� He yelled. Then he made them do laps, apparently under the misimpression that they were in middle-school gym class.
After that night an there was a subtle rift between Remy and Logan. In the few months before they had grown close in an almost imperceptible way. They had shared a camaraderie that seemed to have vanished over the course of an evening. Neither could say what had caused the rift, and neither could admit, even to themselves how much they wanted it gone.
Remy went back to the bar scene, coming home late at night, when he came home at all, stinking of strangers and strange rooms.
Sometimes Logan would accompany Remy on these trips, driven by some masochistic impulse he hadn�t known he possessed. He would watch as Remy worked the room. He always seemed to pick the cheapest drink, the most obvious pick-up, the nearest possible lay. Logan never knew why. Remy was certainly capable of getting anyone in a given room. He just always set his sights low and Logan could never bring himself to ask for an explanation.
It was Jean who first noticed Remy was losing weight.
�Are you dieting?� Scott asked sarcastically.
�Could be.� Remy tugged at the waist band of his pants. They felt looser than they had before. Maybe they had just stretched out. He sighed, he didn�t want them fretting over him, he had another headache.
�You feeling alright Gambit?� Scott asked.
�Yeah.� The truth was he had felt lousy since, since- well a long time. It had gotten worse after the night he had- well at first he had thought it was just a hangover. Maybe it was mono or something. God, Scott would be pissed.
Scott set down his coffee and pressed his com badge. �Blackbird in five minutes people.�
It was the stupidest farce of a mission the X-men had ever been on. A splinter of FoH had moved to Montana where they had renounced the evil and decadent trappings of modern civilization. Reports were beginning to filter in that they were capturing and torturing local mutants using techniques that were baroque to say the least.
These reports proved wildely inaccurate. The most dangerous thing in the compound appeared to be a feral pig that ran at them squealing with every intention of attacking.
Fearless acted quickly. The smell of BBQ filled the air and a clothes line in front of them burst into flames.
�Well, look on the bright side, mon ami.� said Remy, �You have rid the world of some truly evil plaid shirts.� He looked down. �And the world ugliest pig.�
�I don�t care about red-necks,� Scott shouted. �I only care about them if they are attacking mutants.�
As if on cue a hairy unwashed man leapt out from behind a shack and plunged a homemade spear deep into Logan�s back. Logan screamed, going feral instantly. He had been in a bad mood anyway. The unfortunate spear wielder found himself flying through the air. Wolverine ran towards the edge of the compound barreling through the cult members that had swarmed from their homes with rusty weapons in hand.
�Fall back!� yelled Scott. The fight was in danger of becoming a blood bath regardless of how gentle the X-men tried to be.
�Well done, Fearless Leader.� said Hank, lumbering after Wolverine. �I�d say we created some vicious mutant haters today.�
�They were members of the FoH before.� said Scott sourly, but without conviction. The men had clearly been bothering no one. Now they probably would.
<Pain, Fear, Rage. There was something in his back, something that tore the flesh. He couldn�t grab it, he couldn�t get it out. All around him there were strange smells, strange sounds of animals trying to contain him, trying to control him again. The anger that always simmered below the skin erupted. Roaring he lunged towards the nearest of the creatures with every intent of landing a killing blow.>
Storm jumped back. �Wolverine control yourself please.� But Wolverine only growled and lunged again.
�We have to get the spear out.� said Warren, starting forward.
�Don�t touch it,� said Scott. �You�ll only make him more angry.�
�But the wound can�t heal with the shaft in there like that and the pain is what�s keeping him feral.� It was true, the spear was driven a good eight inches into Logan�s back. The handle had broken off, leaving four inches sticking out of his back. The flight through the woods from the compound had torn the wound into a ragged hole. Now Wolverine wouldn�t let anyone come near him and everyone was at a loss as to what to do.
�Can we sedate him?� asked Scott.
�No.� said Hank. �Those miscreants back there stole and set fire to the med kit.�
�What?!� Scott yelled
Hank shrugged.
Remy had never seen Wolverine feral before. Those few times it had happened while Remy had been an X-man he had usually been busy with his own fight or unconscious.
Now he looked into the blank animal eyes he saw no trace of his friend. The creature before him slavered and lunged at another X-man. Hatred for all of them radiated from him, so powerful that Remy could feel it like heat on his face.
<Imagine having a creature like that locked within you. God. No wonder Logan is wound so tight.>
�Rogue, try to grab him.� said Cyclops.
�No! You�ll hurt him.�
�I certainly hope so.� said Cyke, as Wolverine rushed him. �He�s being enormously irritating.� But he couldn�t hide his genuine concern. It wasn�t good for Logan to go feral, it made him weak for days, though he tried to hide it.
In mid-lunge, Wolverine switched directions and slammed into Jean, knocking her to the ground.
�No!�
Jean lay on the ground stunned as Wolverine paused, staring at her with bloodlust in his eyes.
�Everyone stay back! Don�t make any sudden movements.� Said Scott, preparing blast Wolverine if necessary.
Without pausing to think Remy stepped in front of Logan, shielding Jean and blocking Scott�s shot.
�God damn it Cajun! Move!�
Remy ignored him. He looked at Logan. �Hey there homme. Remy suspects you gonna feel like a real ass-hole in de morning.� Wolverine growled wordlessly. �Yeah, you�re right, I do know the feeling.�
Looking into the black and red eyes Wolverine calmed a little, he took another half-hearted swipe at Jean. �Calm down homme. Ain�t nobody gonna hurt you here.� He took another step towards Wolverine. One more would bring him in range.... He lifted his foot.
With a growl and a snap Wolverine lunged at him. Remy twisted away but not before a long thin line of red blossomed against his forehead. In one flowing movement he recovered from his duck and leaped between Wolverine�s arms, clapping the older man�s head between his hands.
Wolverine roared and thrashed then abruptly quieted as Remy�s hands warmed against his skin. He felt all his hatred, all the animal anger and pain flowing out of him, drawn off as poison is drawn from a wound. His breathing slowed. He returned to himself. He opened his eyes and felt his blood turn cold.
Remy let Logan�s anger pass through him like a rush of warm air. It was animal passion, meaningless to his human brain and left him with nothing but a slight sense of fatigue. He felt the man beside him relax. �Hey homme. Ready to rejoin the living?�
Logan�s brilliant blue eyes flashed open, confused but calm and sentient. For a second he seemed to collect his thoughts. Then he lifted his eyes to Remy�s face and turned deathly pale. Remy felt a wave of fear roll out of him, a sharp contrast to his rage of just a moment ago.
�Mon ami? You okay?�
Logan was staring at the kid like he was a ghost. �Yeah, Cajun. I�m fine.�
Beast walked up behind Logan. �Forgive me friend, this is something I must do.� He grabbed the spear shaft and wrenched it from Logan�s body. The wet tearing sound it made had several of the X-men wincing. Logan didn�t even flinch. Beast dropped the shaft. �Now can we adjudicate please?�
They turned to walk back to the plane.
<How the hell did the Cajun do that?> Scott stomped towards the black bird, tired, confused and annoyed. �You can bet that at the next team meeting we�re going to have a discussion about following a direct order, Gambit.� He said.
�That going to be at the same meeting where we discuss reliable intelligence gathering, right homme?�
Logan couldn�t stop staring at the kid. He could still feel the echo of Remy�s presence in his mind. He could still feel the effect of the kid�s gentling him. <He tamed the beast, I don�t know how. I never would have believed it.> Remy looked up to see Logan staring.
�You okay mon ami?�
�I-� Logan couldn�t even bring himself to say the words. He just gestured to Remy�s forehead.
�Oh the cut. This is nothing. Henri say it won�t even leave a mark.�
Logan could not respond. If he waited his whole life he would never be able to describe what it had been to open his eyes and see Remy covered in his own blood. <Blood I put on him.> Memories of the dream flashed before his eyes. He shuddered. <Well at least now the kid has seen the beast. He�ll know not to get so close again.> He should have been glad, but his heart was aching with shame. <You really are an animal Wolverine.>
He looked up to see the kid with his head in his hands, swaying slightly. His heart clenched.
�Jesus kid, you said-�
Remy shook his head. �I�m fine mon ami. I just have a headache is all.�
After that day in the woods Logan began avoiding Remy. He knew he should be grateful to the kid. He�d probably kept him from seriously hurting someone after all. But every time he thought of the incident he felt shame well up in him. Standing next to Remy, all long limbs and graceful refinement Logan didn�t even feel like a person. He was just meat. <Meat for the taking and meat that takes. I can�t touch the kids with that.> If Remy noticed Logan�s sudden distance he didn�t mention it.
<Why would he notice, he�s got all his little friends to keep him company.> Wolverine�s perpetual bad mood was rapidly turning foul.
Rounding the corner he came to the front steps. Looking up he saw Remy silhouetted against the large picture window. The kid paused at the top of the step for a moment, his body swaying slightly, then crumpled and tumbled lifelessly down the steps.
Remy lay still, an impossibly pale tangle of long arms and legs, twisted and bent at unnatural angles, like some sort of toy hastily discarded.
�Hank!� screamed Logan into his com. �Hank! Come quick! Remy can you hear me?�
Remy cracked his eyes. �Oui. Remy ain�t dead homme, just passed out.� <I don�t know why you�d care anyway. You haven�t even looked at me in three weeks.> �Remy maybe has mono or something.�
Logan stiffened. It was certainly possible. Hell, with Remy�s activities he�d be very lucky if mono was the only thing he had.
Remy watched as Logan�s expressions passed clearly over his face. <Yeah, that�s right homme. Remy is a tramp.> God his head hurt. He hardly remembered what it felt like to not have a headache anymore.
Logan insisted that Hank come and check Remy�s neck before he let him up. When Hank came he confirmed that Remy was fine, the kid was perfectly capable of walking himself down to the med-lab. Once there Remy quietly submitted to a full range of tests. That uncharacteristic apathy alone alerted Hank that something was wrong.
�His weight�s off.� He told Scott and Logan. �And he�s suffering from exhaustion. It isn�t mono, but it might be something like it. Some sort of chronic virus probably. Whatever it is doesn�t appear to be too serious. We should be able to get him up and about in a few weeks.�
�And until then should he be off the roster?�
�Limited duty. If you can send someone else you should, but in the meantime I don�t see why he can�t continue to train. Like I said, he should be feeling better in a few days.�
Remy didn�t feel better. The next morning at breakfast he dropped a glass, a commonplace occurrence so uncharacteristic of him it literally brought the kitchen to a complete standstill. Remy knelt to pick up the glass with a little smile on his face. �It happens.� he said. But everyone could see his hands were shaking.
He began dropping other things, bumping into walls, misjudging distances. He would stop in the middle of a sentence, apparently at a loss for words. An increasingly worried Hank dragged him back down to the lab for more tests, all of which Remy sat through with a meekness that only aggravated concern.
The light had gone out of the kid�s eyes. He rarely talked back any more. He rarely talked at all, but would instead sit staring off into space. After three weeks Cyke quietly removed him from the active duty roster.
Logan was going silently out of his mind. He watched as his beautiful, fierce, cocky kid was worn into a shadow. He tore at his hair and growled and was generally miserable to everyone. There was nothing he could do.
On his way down to dinner Logan passed Remy�s room. He paused, then knocked, determined to get the kid to eat something. The door swung open.
�Kid? I know you�re in there, I can smell you. Come down to dinner.� But the room was silent.
Then Logan smelled the blood.
He found the kid curled up on the floor of the bathroom as if asleep. There was blood everywhere, the toilet seat, the sink, the floor. Remy had been vomiting it up for quite some time before he�d passed out. Now his head lay in a pool that leaked slowly from his ears and nose, surprisingly dark, almost black really, against the white of the tile and his too pale skin.
With terrible gentleness Logan reached out and cradled his kid to his chest. Carefully he eased Remy up into his arms, brushing the matted hair away from the young man�s face.
There seemed no cause to rush. Whatever was wrong with Remy would not be fixed by another shot of antibiotics.
For a brief moment Logan took the opportunity to cradle Remy against him. �I failed you kid.� he whispered. �I promised myself I�d protect you from anything. I couldn�t even protect you from myself very well.� He brushed at the scratch still visible across Remy�s forehead, and turned to find Beast.
�It�s a gripper.� said Beast. �A type of telekinetic parasite. I didn�t find it before, because they start inside the skull and only emerge at the end of their life cycle.�
�A parasite.� Said Warren. �Like tapeworm?�
�We would be so lucky.� said Beast. �A gripper is transferred onto the host by a telepath. If the host doesn�t have any shields they will most likely be killed within seconds. If he or she has some sort of shield then the gripper tends to burrow through it and take up residence.� He paused.
�What then?�
�I don�t know. I�d never seen one before. In Remy�s case the creature sent out some sort of tentacles or feelers which burrowed into his brain. That took awhile. Now that they have reached white matter his decline is speeding up.�
�What�s the prognosis?�
�I�ve sent for the professor. If anyone can get the thing off it will be him. I think you should all know that grippers have proven to be invariably fatal. As far as I can tell, Remy-� Beast�s voice broke for the first time. �Remy holds something of a record for having survived this long.�
�How did he get this thing?�
Beast was careful not to meet Warren�s eyes. �My guess is that he contracted it in Sinister�s lab.�
In his mind�s eye Logan saw Remy step in front of Warren. Saw his head snap back with the force of the blow thrown by Sinister�s new psychic, what was her name? Pestilence.
Saw him fall-
Warren had turned pale. He stood motionless staring at the slight figure in the bed. His eyes were very dark.
�Can we see him?�
Beast nodded. �He isn�t awake yet. But he should be soon.�
Logan stood over the bed looking down at Remy�s still form. Looking at the gripper it was easy to see why no one survived. From here it looked like a black snake or a vine half as thick as Logan�s wrist curled around Remy�s head. Along its base were bumps, each bump a thorn that had dug into Remy�s skull. Logan was amazed the kid wasn�t dead already. Then he felt guilt for the thought. Remy was a fighter.
�Remy can you hear me?�
Remy opened his eyes. �Oui. Of course I can hear you.� He paused and seemed confused.
�What do you want?�
�Uh.� Good question. Logan felt like a real idiot. �I just wanted to see if you were awake.�
Remy began to cough. It went on forever. Great coughs wracked his thin body. Soon he was too exhausted to actually cough, he just lay on his side wheezing and choking a little.
�Remy? Is there anything I can do?�
�Yeah.� said Remy. �You can pull it out.�
�What?�
�You heard me. Pull it out.�
�But- I can�t. The force alone would snap your neck�
�This thing going to kill me anyway mon ami. Please. Don�t make me die with it inside of me. I can feel it Logan. I can feel it crawling in my brain. I want to die free of it.�
Logan couldn�t. He considered himself a brave man, but he knew he would never be able to look into Remy�s eyes and watch as the life drained from them when he could keep him alive a second longer.
�Remy, I�m sorry.�
�Is no problem mon ami.� Remy rolled on his side, his face to the wall. �Remy understand.� And then the seizures began.
The next twelve hours were hellish. Remy� seizures continued, seldom pausing and gradually increasing in intensity. After the fifth hour Beast put him in restraints. Remy ripped through those and had to be moved to another bed. He bled from his ears and his mouth. He shattered two of his own bones during an especially violent contortion.
Logan emerged from the lab, splattered with Remy�s blood. Warren was sprawled on a chair in the lounge, his face pale and drawn.
�You.� Logan stomped over and reduced the chair to kindling. �This is all because of you. Are you happy now? It must be a great day for you. Two birds with one stone. You get rid of the Cajun and save your own worthless hide at the same time.� Warren said nothing. �Answer me damn it!� He grabbed Warren by the neck and banged him against the wall. Storm started up.
�Logan stop this. It isn�t Warren�s fault.�
�No,� said Warren. �Let him be. It is.� Logan threw the man aside and stalked from the room.
Towards morning Xavier arrived. He took one look at Remy lying half dead in the lab.
�Get Rogue.� Was all he said.
When Rogue arrived he explained what he wanted. �The parasite feeds on life force. If it believes Remy is near death it will be more likely to let go. Do you understand what I am asking?� Rogue nodded. �Good. Logan come stand over here by me. While Rogue is draining Remy I need you to hold his head still so that Beast can try to pull off the gripper.�
Logan nodded. He gently turned Remy�s head so that Beast could get a good grip on the parasite. Then he placed one hand on the top of Remy�s head and one hand on the base of his neck. As Rogue placed her hands on Remy�s body and began to draw off energy Logan actually felt the heat leave the kid�s body. He growled deep in his throat. He could smell Remy�s fear and his pain, but pitifully little of either, as if the kid had already lost too much of his vitality.
�Now Hank.� said Xavier quietly and Hank�s muscles bulged as he pulled at the black growth. For a second nothing happened. Then Rogue said, �Professor.� Xavier nodded, she had drained Remy too far already. Any more would certainly kill him.
�Just one more second Rogue.� said Xavier. She nodded trusting him. Xavier bent close to Remy�s ear. �I�m sorry Remy,� he whispered, but there is still work to be done.� Then he laid his hand on Remy�s head.
Remy gave a cry. Not the terrified scream of his nightmare but a tiny mewl of someone who is at the utter end of their strength. He began to shake again. Beast pulled harder and Logan could feel Remy�s neck being wrenched in his hands.
Then ever so slowly the black vine began to peel out of Remy�s skull. Wolverine fought his nausea as he saw the thing writhe, its tentacles reaching out for a host more welcoming than the one it had just left. Hank banged it into a thick jar he had ready and the thing slid to the bottom and lay still. Everyone, exhausted fell away from Remy�s bed.
Slowly a red stain spread out against his pillow. Remy took one long breath and was still.
�Stay with him.� said Xavier. �I fear that the cure may prove worse than the disease.�
�What did you do?�
�I made Remy an unwelcoming host. I magnified all his negative feelings, all his pain and despair, and to that I added more.�
Logan looked at him speechless.
�If you don�t mind,� said Xavier. �I am very tired. I think I will go lie down. Please see that I am not disturbed.� His voice shook. His hands on his controls were unsteady.
�Christ!� yelled Hank. �His heart has stopped. Get me the paddles.� He bent over Remy and started CPR.
�What�s the matter with him?�
�I don�t know. Those spiny things could have been anywhere, the cerebrum, the corpus collosum. Best case scenario he�s stopped breathing because his higher brain functions have shut down.�
�That�s the best case scenario?�
�If his lower brain has been damaged, his body will have biologically forgotten how to breath. Clear!� Electricity shot through Remy. He arched against the restraints. There was nothing from the monitor.
�Again!� This time a thin uneven wiggle appeared on the screen.
�Good.� Hank grabbed a syringe and injected it into Remy�s arm. �It�s a strong painkiller mixed with an inhibitor. If we�re lucky it will slow down Remy�s brain long enough for his body to stop dying of shock. Meanwhile we can assess the extent of the brain damage he�s suffered.�
�This is if we�re lucky?� As soon as it was out of his mouth Logan regretted the question. How he could be flip now? Then he looked at Remy�s still form on the bed and wondered how he couldn�t be. If he were forced to take in the full enormity of what was happening he would suffocate under the despair. He looked at the thin white figure breathing in and out and it was suddenly the most important thing in the world that it keep breathing.
He stumbled towards the door.
�Don�t go far,� Beast warned. �I�m going to need your help. It�s going to be a long night.� Logan just nodded. He walked through the lounge out the side door and vomited onto the side of the house.
It was indeed a very long night. Remy seized time and again. Three more times his heart stopped and the third it only started again when Hank blew out the fuses on the defibulator. His pale chest was covered with angry red burns. He was alternately burning with fever and shaking with cold. Sometime he screamed and raved at imaginary foes. Others he would lie still as death and tears would course down his cheeks. The worst was when his eyes would fly open, wide and blank, staring around him with incomprehension, or babbled softly to himself, a high pitched pattering clucking sound.
At around four in the morning Logan came back from the bathroom to find Hank sitting next to Remy staring straight ahead, glassy eyed.
�I can�t help him,� he muttered. �I can�t help him. I don�t know what to do. I don�t know. Remy, I�m sorry I don�t know how to fix this. I can�t-� His voice trailed off.
Logan knew that the doctor was right. Whatever the gripper had done to Remy was beyond the reach of medicine. �Get some sleep Hank. You�re exhausted.�
�I can�t leave the patient.� Hank swayed a little.
�He�ll need you when he wakes up. It won�t do any good to have you exhausted. Right now the best thing for both of you is sleep.�
�Yes, perhaps.� Hank fumbled in indecision. Then he stood. He thrust a thin syringe into Logan�s hand. �It�s painkiller. A strong dose, in case he wakes up. I don�t want him to be in any pain when-� He turned away, unable to complete the sentence. �I�ll be in the cot right outside.�
Logan nodded, feeling a tightness in his throat. Hank believed that Remy was going to die. He sat down by the bed and stroked Remy�s hair, slowly doing what he had never dared to do before. He ran his hand down along Remy�s cheek, stroked his forehead, his hands, felt the tight smooth skin of his neck and chest. He learned forward and inhaled the rich cinnamon and bourbon smell of Remy, his face inches from the Cajun�s jaw. Somehow, it seemed an incredibly intimate gesture, far more so then any of the infinitely more explicit relations he�d had in the backs of bars and cheep hotel rooms.
Remy began to seize again. Logan considered getting Hank, but decided against it. He�d done all he could and somehow Logan knew it would be harder on the doctor to have to stand by and watch the patient die than to awaken in the morning and find Remy gone.
Besides Logan wanted these last moments with Remy alone.
Remy�s thrashing became more frantic. He clawed at the restraints. �Get dem off. Get dem off! Mon Dieu!� Logan unstrapped him. It could make little difference now.
Gently he wiped the small trickle of blood flowing from Remy�s mouth. He�d never told Remy anything. Not how beautiful he was. Not how he was the only person who could make him laugh. He�d never told Remy how, when he was around, it was the only times Logan could relax, because somehow Remy tamed the animal inside him.
He�d never have that again, he suddenly realized. When Remy was gone the monster would be uncalmable.
Suddenly he was angry. �Dammit Cajun, get up. Don�t you dare die on me this way. Don�t you dare just lie down and give up like a coward. You fight. It�s your obligation.�
Remy�s eyes snapped open, hazed in drugs and pain, but cogent for the first time in days.
�You come back to me Cajun.� said Logan. �I need you. If you die I will never find peace. You can not do that to me Cajun, you can not. Remy, please.� He heard his voice break. Remy�s eyes had closed again. The kid was gone.
Then faintly, Logan felt Remy squeeze his hand.
He awoke with his head resting on the Cajun�s pelvis, his hand spread over Remy�s chest, where he could feel the Cajun�s heart beat, steady and strong.
The kid was watching him through eyes that were still vague from pain killer and fever, but compared to the raving shell of just a few hours ago seemed like an undeserved blessing.
�Hi.�
�Hi.�
�You brought me back.� Remy�s eyes were filled with wonder.
Logan reached out and brushed the kid�s cheek. Remy inclined his face towards the caress, and smiled. �Guess you don�t mind me touching you now.� Logan couldn�t resist saying.
�Remy loves to be touched.� Remy�s voice was slurred. �But you shouldn�t. He�s dirty.�
Apparently the kid was still pretty out of it.
The next three days were some of the best Logan had known. He spent every free moment with the kid, watching over him like some big old guard dog. Nothing happened between them. Remy was too exhausted even to talk much. Even so, for the first time in his life Logan found himself looking forwards to the future. The pleasure of a future relationship with Remy stretched before him and he didn�t mind savoring every moment of it.
Remy awoke with a start, his heart pounding. In the chair beside him Logan stirred. <Mon Dieu, what have I done.> He thought he had kept it in control, but apparently his charm had leaked out onto Logan. <How could this have happened?> Unless it was just a favor. <Maybe he was just saying those things so that I would be able to get better.> At this point he didn�t know which would feel worse, that he had somehow cast a thrall over Logan or that Logan was simply lying to him to comfort him.
It don�t matter. The solution was the same. He tossed back the covers and stood, swaying a little on his feet. Hank would have kittens, but right now Remy had bigger problems.
�Start as you mean to go on.� He took a last long look at Logan�s sleeping form, then sighed and turned from the room.
Logan awoke knowing something was wrong. The kid�s bed was empty. Shit. He felt a stab of fear. <Calm, keep calm. He�s got to be around here somewhere.>
The Cajun wasn�t hard to track. He was sitting in the den watching TV. Logan paused in the doorway smiling softly. God he was so beautiful. Strong and graceful, soft and hard in equal measure.
He cleared his throat. �Hi,� he said, trying not to sound too eager.
The kid looked up. The cold vacancy in his eyes actually made Logan take a step back. �Hi, homme.� He said carelessly.
�What are you watching?� <Keep cool Wolverine. Don�t scare the kid.> Of course not, he was the one who was scared. The Cajun shrugged. �Can I sit down?�
�Suit yourself.� But Remy didn�t move his legs from the couch, so Logan had to sit in one of the chairs across the room.
�
Kid, I was hoping, I mean,� Logan stumbled. �Do you want to talk maybe?�
Remy looked over at him. �What for?�
What for? Logan felt like his chest had been ripped open. �Well I know I got some things I want to say-�
Remy interrupted him. �Look, homme. It�s okay. I understand.�
Relief washed through him. �You do? Thank God.�
�Don�t worry homme. Remy won�t hold any of that stuff you said against you.� <What?> �You my friend, Logan. The notion that we could ever be more than that is ridiculous. But Remy don�t blame you for the lie, under the circumstances. You were just being nice, saving Remy�s life like that. And I appreciate it.�
Logan felt like he was choking. �I don�t want your appreciation.�
�That�s nice of you to say, homme. You always were a gentleman.�
The room was too small, he couldn�t breath. The hope he had been living on for four days exploded, taking his heart in the process. He had to get out of there, had to get outside Now. Bolting from the couch he ran from the room.
Remy frowned. Logan hadn�t seemed all that relieved. Maybe he wanted to be the one to say it. Control the situation and all that. Well Logan would get over it. Remy doubted if he ever would himself. He needed to go out. Needed to bury himself in some warm, comforting flesh, devoid of memories and dirty enough that there was no chance he could sully it further. He needed a night of thoughtless, emotionless passion to rid his body of the spirits that haunted him. There was fat chance of any of that in his weakened state, so Remy went back to channel surfing.
Later, after the hurt had subsided a little bit, Logan was able to feel the anger. It grew, feeding on itself until it was a towering force that blocked out weaker emotions. <So that�s how it was.> He had been used and discarded, like any ampule of vaccine, his emotions toilet paper for LeBeau to dirty and throw away.
He�d always heard talk about how Remy was a slut. He�d never paid it any mind personally, but now he saw clearly how true that was. The coy flirting, the complete conquest and the casual dismissal.
Oh the circumstances had been unusual, no doubt, but Remy�s injuries had just sped along the obvious conclusion. He was a slut all right, not a physical one, though he certainly was that as well, but worse. He was an emotional one, leapfrogging from conquest to conquest, getting his cheap thrills from the poor saps who fell for him only to be unceremoniously dropped. What for? Even the big kiss-off had been carefully arranged for the least emotional mess possible. No doubt about it, Logan had been played. It was a mistake he didn�t intend to make again.
Logan stopped speaking to Remy, started avoiding him entirely. Remy understood, but it still hurt. <He�s ashamed for me> thought Remy, or more fearfully, <Maybe he has figured out about the charm and is repulsed.> The emotions coming off of Logan didn�t make much sense, he felt anger, so strong it was almost hatred, and repulsion, so he probably knew about the charm.
If Logan knew why didn�t he tell Scott? Maybe Remy was misreading the signals. He was shielded pretty tightly. More and more he was trying to get through the days without feeling, just trying to fall from one bottle and available bed to the next. He lived for the moment his duties were done and he could get lost in the bars. Bars Logan didn�t join him in any more. Day after day Remy locked himself tighter in his cloak of misery, cut off from what was happening around him.
Which would explain why he ran straight into Logan coming around the corner. He stumbled back and almost fell. Logan did not reach out to steady him.
�Excuse moi.� He averted his eyes and shifted to let the older man pass. Logan did, bumping into him deliberately and muttering something.
�Pardon moi?�
�I said you apologies are worth shit, Cajun.�
Remy�s eyes widened. �I do not understand.�
�You take people, you use them. You throw them away. Then you can apologize. But it doesn�t mean shit does it?�
�This is what you think of Remy?� Remy asked softly.
�Well it�s true ain�t it? Look at how you used me.� The rage had finally boiled over. Logan grabbed Remy by the wrist, pulling him close. �You�re a slut, Remy.� He pushed him down. �Ain�t you? Look at how you used me for your pretty little kicks.� He ran a rough hand down the Cajun�s face. �Did you enjoy it, Cajun? Did you enjoy seeing me crawl? Was it better than sex?�
Remy tore himself away. �Mon Dieu!� he cried. �Do not tempt me this way. I am only human.�
Logan broke away abruptly. <What?>
�I have done my best to keep away from you. Do not torment Remy needlessly.�
�You kept yourself from me?� Remy nodded. �You wanted me?� Remy buried his face in his hands and nodded, too tired to lie. Now Logan knew. He waited for the declarations of disgust and hatred. But he heard nothing. He looked up. Logan was staring at him in confusion.
�But why?�
�You-�
�I told you I needed you. I said I was lost without you.�
�You were being nice, saving Remy�s life. I understand. I don�t want to put anything on you, homme.�
�I was being nice? I was being NICE? You thought I told you I would be incomplete without you because I was being nice?� Remy nodded. The poisonous hatred Logan had been holding was dissipating in the presence of a healthier, red-blooded fury.
�Nice. Are you crazy? What planet do you come from? Where would it even occur to people to lie like that?� Then Remy looked up at him with haunted eyes and Logan suddenly remembered who he was talking to. Compared to what this kid�s used to it probably would be a kindness. Suddenly his anger evaporated. He chuckled.
�Jesus kid. You�re so fucked up.� He took another step towards Remy, who shrank back.
�Keep away from me!�
�No.� Wolverine kept walking.
�Stay back, I mean it.� Remy was growing desperate. �Cher, I mean it. Let me protect you. Remy is poison, he defiles everything he touches. Don�t let him dirty you too.�
Logan looked at him sadly. �Who taught you to say those things, kid?� He reached out a hand. The kid backed off like a wounded creature. �You once calmed the animal in me deliberately, Remy, and since then you have helped me do it more times than I can count, though I doubt you knew it. Let me help you now. Please, Remy. I think we can save each other.�
Remy panicked. He had to protect Logan. It was more important than anything. So he did what he had sworn not to do and lowered his shields. Loathing, hatred, doubt and disgust poured into Logan�s mind. Logan froze, puzzled. He took a step back. It was an odd sensation, these vile feelings towards the one he loved more than any other.
�Where�d you learn to do that kid?�
Remy frowned. Logan should be running away in horror. �Shouldn�t you be turning on Remy now?�
�Why would I? That stuff�s not mine. I doubt it�s even yours. More likely you bootlegged it off of every asshole who ever knocked you down. Does Xavier know you can do this?�
He already knew the answer to that. �You should tell him Remy. You�re doing yourself harm keeping it bottled up like that.�
�You�re not disgusted?�
�Why would I be? It�s a gift Remy, like all our powers are. I don�t doubt it�s hard to carry sometimes, but hiding it ain�t going to make it easier.� Remy shook his head, still filled with doubt. Logan grabbed him �Come here.�
Pulled against the barrel chest, faced with the undeniable wave of love and affection that washed over him Remy had no choice but to believe. Lost in gratitude and exhaustion, he nested himself in Logan�s arms and cried and cried.