Some Sundays they would go on a field trip, just head out into the country somewhere and do something stupid, a state fair, or a car pull, or whatever else happened to catch their eye, reveling in an easy day of each other�s company. Other times they would sit around and read the newspaper in their boxers, with an endless pot of coffee. They never really talked much those mornings, but then they never really had to. It was an easy time.
Then, three months after the night on the cliff, Logan had come back late from a med run to find Remy curled in a fetal position in the corner of the hallway, in the grip of one of his demonic nightmares. It had taken almost 15 minutes to get the kid to wake up enough to remember where he was, and by that time Logan was covered in a thin sheen of sweat.
Later, in bed, he had whispered, �Remy, what was it about?�
Remy had stiffened in his arms. �I don�t remember.�
�I can tell when your lying Cajun.� But Remy still hadn�t said anything. �Tell me.�
�It�s nothing. It isn�t important.� Remy�s face was to the wall. The Canadian couldn�t see him.
Logan sat up.
�Remy?�
Remy turned to face him. �I ain�t gonna tell you Cher. I told you. It ain�t important.�
And that had been that. Although not really. Not at all actually.
It was dawning on Logan how little he knew about the Cajun, how secretive Remy was about his life before he came to the mansion. Of course Remy knew little of Logan�s life before the X-men either, but in that case it was different, since clearly Logan had nothing to tell.
Part of his unease came from the sense that, while Remy knew him intimately, there were large pieces of the Cajun that Logan had yet to storm. It left him feeling oddly vulnerable. Though he knew beyond doubt that Remy loved him, he began to suspect, that despite all they had been through together, Remy didn�t trust him. Or at least not the way that Logan trusted Remy.
Which was hard to take, obviously.
There wasn�t much he could do about it. Faced with some questions on his past, Remy would just stonewall. No, not stonewall exactly, more like shut down. As if what Logan considered a perfectly natural conversation in the growing intimacy between them were some sort of torture session to be endured. He tried to tease the Cajun about it.
�You ain�t playing for keeps Cajun?�
Remy would smile his little sphinx smile and say, �I won�t hold you to any promises you ain�t ready to keep Cher.�
Which was not an answer designed to reassure a testy lover.
In moments of strict fairness Logan admitted to himself that he knew what Remy was doing. The poor kid had been jerked around so much he was trying to �protect� Logan from his own affection, making it easy on the other man, so if ever Logan decided to break it off he wouldn�t feel trapped in his own web of commitment.
In doing that, Remy was also preparing himself for some of the pain of rejection, although Logan doubted the kid had even realized his own motives. Considering what the kid had been through, it was perfectly understandable.
Still it rankled. Logan, a neophyte himself on most issues in committed relationships, though eager and well intentioned, was perhaps not the best prepared to guide Remy down the first tenuous steps towards intimacy.
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For their six month anniversary Remy had planned something special. He had taken Logan to a southern-style restaurant in the city (�Not as good as N�Orlans but it�ll serve.�) and dancing at one of the new clubs that always seemed to be popping up everywhere. The kid�s name was always on the lists.
Logan was still somewhat conflicted about the whole dancing thing. In the first place, he didn�t dance. Ever. Before Remy came along he had only come to these places for one reason and dancing would have simply delayed that. Now that he had Remy, he still refused to dance.
The closest thing he could manage was to stand stock still on the dance floor and let the kid rub himself against him, which was cute, and hot as hell incidentally, and a damn site better than sitting at a table in the corner sipping a beer and watching horny muscle men mac on his turf.
But while Logan might enjoy watching his kid having a good time and relish how hot Remy looked and how jealous every other person in the club was of him (Logan that is, though probably Remy too), the wolverine inside just wanted to tear the guts out of any sucker who looked at his kid cross eyed. Which made these evenings a little uncomfortable (though stimulating, in one way or another).
That night was more or less the same as any other. Logan had watched Remy on the dance floor and been his personal pole, but after a few minutes he had slipped outside to have a smoke.
�You bored Cher?�
Logan turned to see the Cajun behind him. �Nah, I just wanted a little break from the noise. Smoke?� Then he noticed a tall shadow blocking the street lamp behind him.
�Well, I�ll be damned. I�ve been looking for you. You have no idea how long.� The new voice was deep, but with a nasal twang, some sort of rural midwestern accent. A hand slipped out and caught Remy�s wrist as he reached for a cigarette.
Logan gave an irritated huff and waited for Remy to give the interloper the heave-ho. He�d learned early on that things stayed a lot calmer of he let Remy take care of the unwanted attention himself. But Remy didn�t say anything. Logan glanced up.
The kid�s face was ashen. If Logan didn�t know better he would have said Remy was in danger of passing out. As he watched, the big stranger shoved Remy back and pinned him against the wall. The Cajun barely struggled. <What the hell?>
�You missed me, princess? I bet you have. You grew up real nice.� He reached down and grabbed Remy between the legs. Remy moaned and shot Logan a look, of fear? Guilt?
What the fuck was going on?
Regardless. �Hey bub.� Logan grabbed the other man by the shoulders. �You mind stepping back?�
�Hey relax John. I can wait. Been waiting years as it is. You go ahead. Soften him up for me.�
The tickle in the back of Logan�s throat became a full fledged growl. �I could be awhile.�
The other man frowned. �This your piece then? I figured he was still freelancing. Sorry to intrude then.� He fished around in his leather vest and pulled out a battered card that he tucked in the waistband of Remy�s pants. �Well princess, you ever less tied down you give me a call. I�ll be real glad to hear from you.� He gave Logan a wink �That goes double for you mister, if you ever feel like sharing.� He turned back down the alley.
Logan didn�t even see him go. He was too busy watching Remy leaning against the wall like a rag doll. There was a strange light in Logan�s eyes.�
�No big deal.� Logan said. His voice was deadly quiet. �What�s in the past stays in the past. You said that.� Suddenly Logan was screaming �No big deal! You call that no big deal? You were a prostitute? A whore?� He waited for Remy to deny it praying that he would, lie even if he had to. Remy didn�t even look up.
When Logan heard only silence his voice got even louder. �Well what the fuck <is> a big deal then Cajun? If this is nothing then what the hell is something?�
He began to laugh, a strange bitter sound. �All this time, all this time I was worried about what I did to you in the swamp. That I had destroyed your innocence. Bet that was a good joke for you, huh Rem?� He began to choke on his laugh, and it came out more like a sob.
�I never told you I was a virgin, Cher.� Remy pushed himself away from the wall and took a step towards Logan.
�Don�t touch me!� Logan screamed. Suddenly all the frustration that he had been hiding for the past few month came tearing out. �Don�t you fucking touch me! All this time you�ve been hiding from me.� His eyes were white hot. �You�ve never been honest with me. Not about one fucking thing. You always held back. You always kept your secrets and lies. You played with me. Do you already have someone waiting in the wings? Do you already have an exit strategy. Come on tell me Rem. Am I going to wake up one day and find a bill on my pillow?�
�No.� said Remy quietly, his shoulders slumped in defeat. A strange little smile twisted his face. �No you won�t, Cher. The work Remy does for you, it�s pro bono.�
Suddenly Logan was bone tired. �Go.� He said. �Just get out of my sight. I can�t stand to look at you right now.�
Remy turned without a word of protest. He took two unsteady steps before he fell, skinning his hands in a foul smelling puddle. Logan stood watching him silently as he got up and slowly limped away.
Remy walked for miles, directionless, thoughtless, numb. It was hours before he recognized the signs of shock in his body. It shouldn�t have surprised him. Logan�s rage had been so strong, so tightly focused that it had burned through he shields almost instantly. Maybe that was why he felt so raw.
Eventually he found a taxi stand. The driver was only too glad to take the long fare. There were cheaper ways to get home, Remy supposed, but already the sky was lightening. Time was of the essence. He had to get home and get cleaned up enough so that no one would see anything was wrong.
As horrible as the night had been it had the potential to get worse. Right now damage control was all he could think about. It was imperative no one else find out his secret.
Assuming Logan didn�t tell them all that is.
He leaned his head back against the seat. His hands were shaking. So it had happened. He had always known it would. One way or another Logan would find out what Remy really was. He had just hoped he could have had a little more time.
<Cher. I�m sorry.> He thought. <I really am a thief. I only thought of how much time I could steal. I didn�t think of how much it would hurt you when you learned the truth.> He thought of the pain and madness he had seen in Logan�s eyes. How badly had he hurt the man? How long would it take him to recover?
<You really are disgusting LeBeau.> Guilt washed over him. This time it wouldn�t only be him doing penance for his crimes.
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Logan managed to go for three days without seeing Remy. It wasn�t hard, the mansion was big and they hadn�t had any team activities scheduled together. Wherever the kid was sleeping at night, it sure as hell wasn�t in his room next to Logan�s.
In fact, when he finally did see the kid he almost didn�t notice him, so quietly did Remy slip into his seat at the team meeting. Scott didn�t pause and pretended not to notice his tardiness.
All through the meeting Remy sat silent, gazing into space. But whenever spoken to he always responded as if he�d been paying attention.
<See?> Thought Logan savagely. <It�s over. He�s over me already.> He pretended not to notice who pale the kid was.
Remy was the first one out of the meeting room. Logan didn�t see him again for another two days. He told himself he was fine, and was generally nasty and abusive to anyone who came near him.
Five days after the night at the club Warren caught up with Logan in the kitchen very late.
�What the hell did you do to Remy?� he asked.
�I don�t know what you�re talking about.� growled Logan.
�Bullshit.� Warren grabbed Logan and banged him up against the cabinets.
�I could kill you, you know.�
�It wouldn�t surprise me.� spat Warren. �God knows, you�ve done stranger things this week.�
Logan shook off the other man. �What makes you think Remy didn�t do something to me?�
�Because only one of you is going around like he�s had half his soul ripped out of his body and that one ain�t four feet tall. What�s the matter? You couldn�t end it with him cleanly? You had to shed blood?�
�Cajun don�t look like he�s bleeding too much to me. He�s been out every night this week catting around.�
Warren looked at him oddly. �Why would you say something like that? You know Remy�s been sleeping in the spare room across from mine.�
Logan went on the defensive. �Oh, so you�ve been looking out for him pretty close I see.� He said insinuatingly. �Who appointed you guardian over the swamp rat? You�re the one who left him to die in the arctic unjustly. It doesn�t seem like our behaviors bare much comparison.�
�Yet here you are comparing them.� said Warren. �Which should tell you something.�
There was an uncomfortable pause. �What happened that night?� asked Warren. �Did it have something to do with Remy�s past?� The way he asked it left no doubt in Logan�s mind what he was referring to.
�How did you know?�
�I got a flash of Remy�s memories when Pestilence hit him with that gripper and his shields went down.�
�You never said anything. Didn�t it matter to you?�
�No. We all knew the guy had a hard life. To be honest I can�t tell why you care so much.�
�I couldn�t have cared all that much.� said Logan bitterly. �After all, I didn�t go feral or anything.�
�Didn�t you?� Warren looked thoughtful. �I wonder. Does it ever have an emotional component?�
�No.� said Logan quickly. Then, �Maybe. I don�t know how it would manifest itself.�
�Sudden disproportionate rage, I would think. The inability to reason with yourself. The profound desire to hurt someone, not physically but emotionally. Any of that sound familiar?�
It did. Horribly familiar. Logan felt the rage begin to drain slowly from him. He felt he was coming back to himself. He had been gone for awhile. What was the phrase Warren had used? Emotionally feral.
He remembered the other time he had been angry with Remy, after the gripper, when Remy had pretended not to be interested in him. It was the same feeling, the same all consuming, sickening hatred. He had been wrong then. Remy, though acting like a moron, had not been callus, just terribly vulnerable. Vulnerable and empathic, injured by Logan�s hostile feelings.
God. Suddenly he felt sick. Warren reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. �You okay?�
Logan shook his head. �I�ve got to talk to him.� He headed towards the back stair case.
�He�s not up there.� Warren called.
�Why not?�
�When he wakes up after the nightmares he goes for a walk.�
�He�s been having nightmares again?�
�Yeah.� Warren looked at him oddly. �Doesn�t he always? They wake me actually. It�s why I�m up.�
Logan was already gone heading out the door after Remy.
<They�ll be alright now.> Warren smiled in self congratulations and went back to bed.
It wasn�t as easy to track the kid as he would have liked. The more or less constant rain had saturated the roads and erased most of the passing smells. Still it wasn�t impossible.
Besides, the missteps he made gave him more of a chance to rehearse what he would say to the kid when he caught up with him. He was no good with words. All he really wanted to do was take the kid into his arms and let him feel how sorry he was, how much he loved him....
Then coming around the corner he saw Remy silhouetted in a street lamp. The kid had walked pretty far, all the way back into town as a matter of fact. He was walking down a narrow street, almost an alley.
Logan was still several blocks away when someone stepped out of the shadows and brought a baseball bat down across Remy�s shoulders.
�No!� Logan began to run, but with sinking certainty he knew that he was too far away.
Remy flew into the wall on the opposite side of the street, cracking his face against the bricks. Whoever had hit him had been careful not to hit his head, which probably would have killed him, but he was still stunned, slower to respond than usual.
Suddenly the street was filled with figures advancing towards him. He reached into his coat and pulled out a few playing cards, but with sinking certainty he knew they wouldn�t be enough.
He managed to fell six of the opponents before one landed a blow across his jaw. Remy saw stars. The one who aimed the punch went down to another flaming card, but he�d done his damage. Remy blinked, he was having trouble focusing. He felt a blow to the ribs, and then another. The swarm of attackers moved in sensing victory and Remy, fighting for consciousness struggled back as well as he could.
Logan was still a block away when he saw the kid beginning to go down. He increased his speed, unsheathing his claws. Then someone cracked Remy on the head with a bottle, shattering it and bringing the kid to his knees. Logan screamed in rage. <Hang on kid, I�m almost there.>
Victor Creed stepped out of the shadows, Hey runt.� He grinned. �I had a feeling you might be stopping by.� Heleveled a shotgun at Logan�s chest and calmly pulled the trigger. �
Logan collapse on the ground. He wasn�t dead, but he wouldn�t be fighting anymore for the rest of the night either.
Creed walked over to Remy. �Tie him up boys.� He looked at the mutant on the ground below him still struggling and trying to blink the blood out of his eyes. �Who hit him with that bottle? Sinister ain�t going to be pleased. He said to watch the head. You can thank your lucky stars you didn�t cut his face.
�Now fox.� he turned his attention back to Remy. �Last time we had you, you managed to slip the leash. Understandably Sinister doesn�t want that happening again. So you want to tell me how you escaped?� He shoved the barrel of the shot gun under Remy�s chin.
Remy gave him a very sarcastic look. He knew Creed wouldn�t shoot him, not when Sinister wanted him alive. Creed knew it too. �Right.� he said and turned the shotgun on Logan.
Logan saw Remy notice him for the first time, saw the kid turn icy pale. He was going to tell Creed about the lock pick, Logan could see it in Remy�s eyes, but before the Cajun could open his mouth a new voice spoke from the shadows.
�That�s your problem Creed, you never know when brute force is appropriate and when it isn�t. You always mix up the occasions.� Pestilence walked into the light of the street lamp. �For instance,� she said, �this is definitely a time for brute force.� With the toe of her boot she flipped the Cajun over on his side and stomped twice hard on Remy�s hands, crushing them beneath her foot.
Still reeling from the beating he had taken, Remy lost consciousness almost immediately. Logan, hearing the delicate bones of his lover�s hands shatter screamed his rage. Creed picked up Remy�s still form and casually tossed it over his shoulder.
�I�d love to stay and play runt, but I�ve been given very strict instructions on that score. Seems Sinister thinks you�re more trouble than you�re worth. I�ll be taking this one though. Have a good night.� He disappeared into the darkness with his henchmen, leaving Logan to his screams.