They found him in the garden, curled up in the grass as if he were asleep. It was Logan who saw him first, beneath the tree where he had first held the kid, and the others followed as he led them over to the
still form on the ground.
Remy did not stir as he approached. Logan could not honestly say that he expected him to. But the edges of his vision seemed to darken, until he could see nothing but that painfully thin bundle of arms and
legs on the ground, curled like a child against a nightmare.
Logan could smell death on him.
"No." he said brokenly. He dropped to his knees beside Remy. "No. No."
The other X-men gathered behind him, unable to move or speak as they watched the pair on the ground, the older man, stroking the face of the younger, beautiful boy before him, crying silently. As Logan
gathered Remy up in his arms they turned together and followed in a silent procession back into the mansion.
*********
Logan did not need Hank to say what he already knew. Remy was dying.
His organs were shutting down, unable to function in the face of what seemed to be massive injury to his brain.
"It was a suicide mission." said Logan stroking Remy's cheek. "Remy knew it."
Hank could not say anything. He did what he could, then left the pair alone in the darkened lab.
Logan kept stroking Remy's face. He looked beautiful, beautiful as he had the first moment Logan had seen him, a lean, supple strip of attitude and ginger hair. Logan had always thought that they would have
time together, would someday have the opportunity just to be at peace, in each others arms. That had never happened.
Logan laid his hand flat against the boy's forehead. "I'm sorry kid." he said. "I'm not ready to let go yet."
Without even giving himself a chance to think about what he was doing he plunged into Remy's mind.
It was suffocating. A cloud of misery so deep Logan could not find his kid anywhere. Around him swirled the morass of other people's guilt, other people's sorrow, but nowhere could he recognize any part of Remy. Was Remy really here at all, or had he gone already?
Gingerly he reached out and touched the black, swirling air. It contorted angrily under his finger tips and sent a frission of pain up his arms. Remy had once taken away his pain, Logan remembered. Didn�t
it stand to reason that Remy would also be able to give away his pain?
In the lab he placed both hands upon Remy's skull and pulled. Pain washed over him, but as it did he could feel his healing factor rising up to meet it and disperse it. His breath quickened. This was going to
work. He could feel it. He increased the strength of his pull, gritting his teeth against the agony.
He found himself looking into the familiar black and red eyes. The kid let out one breath, that could have been meant as an endearment or a curse. Then the eyes closed into a genuine and healing sleep.
Logan, too exhausted to even consider what had happened, curled his fingers through Remy�s silky hair and lay his head on the bed beside, listening to the sound of the heart monitor, willing it to keep beeping through the night.
*********
"No way." said Logan vehemently. "I'm not leaving. You're nuts to even ask."
It was three days later.
Bright sun was shining into the window of Scott's office. Things looked like they were going to be
alright. Jean had already been up for two days. The professor had woken up the day before. Remy was still in a coma, but Beast was hopeful about his chances of making a complete recovery. Logan was
determined to be by his side every step of the way.
Scott looked pained. "Logan, I understand. I truly do. But I don't have a choice here. This attack left us stretched way too thin. Everyone but Hank is already out supervising the rescue and repair. I
need to get the Professor to Washington to deal with the political fallout. And we need someone to go to Scotland. You're it."
Logan growled.
"Look, it's a 48 hour run. Beast says Remy isn't even due to wake up for another week yet. I need you to do this Logan. I can't tell you how much I don't want to ask."
Logan sighed. The problem was he knew Scott was right. There was no one else to send. But he didn't think he need to let Fearless off all that easy. Sweating a little was good for Scott.
The long flight to Scotland gave Logan plenty of time to think, away from the still figure in the bed. Trouble was, there wasn't much too much to think about. Logan still wanted what he'd wanted for the past year.
Or well, not exactly. The past few days had changed his priorities.
"In any form you want." he said, trying to broker some sort of deal with God. "Blinded, crippled, emotionless. Even if he never wants to see me again. I just need to tell him I love him. Just three words.
Then I swear I'll leave you both alone."
He kept muttering to himself all the way to Scotland and back, off the landing pad and across the lawn. He barely saw where he was going. He just wanted to take a quick shower and get back to Remy's bedside.
Still engrossed in thoughts of what he would do the moment Remy opened his eyes, he turned the corner of the house and almost slammed into the Cajun coming in the opposite direction.
"I-" Logan's mind went entirely blank. He stared at Remy, upright, sentient, and beyond doubt the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
<Damn Hank. Two weeks his ass!>
Remy took a step forward and opened his mouth to speak.
"No." Logan held out a hand to stop him. "No. I'm sorry I just-� He paused, scrambling
for his words. �We keep seeming to get interrupted, and I just needed to tell you, before anything else
goes wrong, before a comet strikes the mansion or- whatever. I just needed to say- to say- I'm sorry."
He looked into Remy's eyes and suddenly the guilt which he'd been fighting for the whole year
overwhelmed him. He sank to the ground collapsing over the full horror of the way he had treated the boy, this, the person in the entire world most dear to him. The night at the club, the awful days after, that night in the cabin�.And here was Remy now, still staring at him like he was seeing a ghost.
"Oh God. Remy. I'm so sorry. So sorry for what I�ve done. If you never want to speak to me again, if you never forgive me I'll understand, leave, get out of your sight. But please, believe me that you can not hate me more than I already hate myself."
Suddenly Remy was all over him, kissing him, stroking the tears from his face.
"Cher." he whispered. "Cher. What you been doing to yourself, hmm? What you been telling yourself while Remy's been away? I could never hate you amour. You're Remy's own heart." Then he
gathered the Canadian into his arms and held him, whispering gentle words until the shaking stopped.
*********
It took Remy a very long time to recover, much of which was extremely unpleasant for him, and by extension almost everyone around him. His time at Sinister's lab had left him with a number of injuries that have never had a chance to heal before the burnout. He suffered from nightmares that not even Logan could protect him from any longer. Nor could he seem to wake up during them. Logan found that the only way to bring the kid around was to plunge him into an ice cold shower, and he spent many hours in their bed listening to Remy scream, wondering at what point the cure wouldn't be worse than the affliction.
Much worse were the moments during the day when Remy would pass out, or, worse still suddenly have some sort of catatonic episode. He would stop suddenly in the middle of a sentence or a step, his eyes going blank, his face slack, trapped in the pockets of false memories Sinister had inflicted upon his mind. It would take Xavier or Jean to bring him out of one of these episodes, and once, in the beginning,
when neither could be reached, he had lain in his bed for three days stiff as a post, until Jean had returned and was able to bring him round.
But eventually these episodes grew less and less frequent. One day, almost six months later, while sitting at the breakfast table Logan saw the familiar cloud pass across Remy's face and heard the kid pause in the middle of a sentence. He was halfway out of his chair to get the professor, when suddenly he saw Remy twitch, shake himself and go on speaking as if nothing had happened.
Then he turned to Logan and had the nerve to give him a quick, casual wink.
That was the moment Logan knew everything was going to be alright.
They lay in bed that night, Remy curled next to the Canadian, who ran his fingers up and down the smooth skin, memorizing every inch of his kid, noting every change from the day before. His hand paused at Remy�s neck, atop the three parallel scars, razor thin and delicate, so delicate that anyone who didn�t know where to look might never have seen them. Logan shuddered deep in his chest. Remy looked up.
�I almost-� his voice was barely a whisper, �I could have, so easily.�
�But you didn�t. It wasn�t a fluke Logan. It wasn�t chance.� Remy smoothed back Logan�s hair tenderly. �Even at your worst moment you were a better man than you think you are.�
�Hardly a man.� Logan said bitterly.
�No. Always a man. And always a wolf. The best of both really. Someday I will tell you why I love them both equally.� Remy kissed Logan lightly. �But for now I am going to sleep.� He curled within the strong arms, and from deep in his chest there came a low, rumbling purr.
And that was all. Or almost. There was one more little detail that had to be taken care of, one that Remy and Logan both thought about a great deal, but were too nervous, or perhaps even to shy to discuss.
But nature forced the issue one night when Logan, aroused in his sleep rolled over and bumped his erection against Remy�s leg.
�What was that?� asked the Cajun, coming awake instantly.
Logan, unusually modest, was struggling to cover himself with the blankets.
�Nothing. Shit. It was nothing. I�m sorry.�
�Ha! I�m not. Come to papa.� The Cajun giggled and grabbed for Logan�s penis among the sheets, rolling over as he did, so that he was laying face down on the Canadian�s chest.
�Remy,� said Logan in a pained voice, �don�t.�
�What�s the matter cher? You don�t want Remy anymore?�
�No. God no, of course I do. But Creed, and Sinister�s lab, and those tapes�..�
�Oh.� Remy nodded. �I understand.� He began to role off Logan.
Logan had expected more relief, less disappointment on his kid�s face, and when he didn�t see it he reached out and grabbed Remy�s arm. �Understand what?�
�Remy�s damaged goods. You didn�t know before, but now you do. The whorin�, and Creed and Sinister and God knows who else. You be right to keep yourself out of the gutter.� He touched Logan�s hand and smiled a little, to show he didn�t mind.
Logan batted the hand away and sprang at the boy, pinning him to the bed. �Don�t you ever say that again.� His voice was fierce. �I�ve told you before. Don�t you ever say those words to me. It demeans you. It demeans me for loving you. You are precious Remy. You are precious in every way, and it don�t matter what�s been done to you, or by which of those sick bastards. You are everything to me.�
Remy looked up at him, stunned by the depth of feeling on Logan�s face. �Then why don�t you let me love you?�
�I just wanted to shelter you.� Said Logan. �To keep you safe from the memories.� His hands traced over the scars running across Remy�s back, down his legs, scars like claw marks over his hips, where someone would grip if they were going to- �God Remy.� He burst out, �how can you stand it?�
Remy�s hand closed over Logan�s and stopped it. �You think you remind me of that cher?� he stroked Logan�s cheek. �Don�t you know? You are my sanctuary.� He grabbed Logan in a hard embrace. �You are my love and I would do anything to see you happy. But,� he let go and leaned back to meet Logan�s eyes, grinning, �if that means I�m going live like a monk for the rest of my life I�m not going to try to hide my disappointment.�
Logan thought about that for a few seconds, looking into Remy�s eyes to make sure he was sincere. �Well,� he rubbed his chin. �I wouldn�t want to make you unhappy�..�
�I knew you were a gentleman cher.� Remy leaned in to kiss him with a clear intent, Logan tipped his mouth to receive the Cajun�s mouth, and as his mind slipped into blissful disorientation, he wondered how some guys got so lucky.