Remy emerged from the bath casually arrogant with a smirk and still ignoring us. I watched him intently, trying to puzzle out his mood. He seemed amused. And yet there was an underlying menace to his body language, a tension that could snap if Alex or I crossed a boundary we couldn't even see. I almost let out hysterical laughter when an image came to mind of me sitting back on my heels, hands bent at the wrists and elbows, whining like a puppy. Maybe Remy would at least treat us like dogs. Better than being ignored.

As he slipped into a maroon silk dressing gown servants entered with his evening meal, setting it before him as he settled in front of the coffee table. He ate quickly, appearing not to have even savored the meal, which for him was rather odd. Sex and food had always been two of his favorite pastimes, from my point of view. When he'd finished, he left the room. I continued to watch him the entire time. He never even glanced in our direction. It was as if Alex and I didn't even exist. Or worse, we were simply part of the furniture.

For a long time I sat back on my heels staring at the door. Realizing Remy wasn't coming back anytime soon, I stretched out on my side still facing the door. Occasionally I rubbed my face where the guard had slapped me, the sting still smarting on my cheek. And my head was throbbing where I'd knocked it against the post. I didn't have to touch the site to know a knot was developing.

So intent on trying to fathom out Remy's mood and motivations, I pretty much ignored Alex. I couldn't even say if he tried to communicate with me through the carpet writing. Perhaps he was just as focused on our master. Perhaps not. It hardly mattered to me. All I wanted at that point was some acknowledgment from Remy. Some sign of concern or anger. If he'd even just glance at us, at least I'd know he thought about us. This cold indifference was infuriating and heartbreaking. I wanted him to like...no, to love us again.

I was dozing lightly when the drone of voices alerted me that Remy had returned. He was speaking to the guard. After a moment the guard left and Remy moved to stand over us. I got to my knees stiffly and said, "Please."

Remy grasped a handful of my hair in his fist and pulled my head back painfully. "Have I given you permission to speak?" His tone was light, cheerful and amused, contradicting the harsh grip he had on my hair. But I could hear the threat buried in the inflection. I shook my head as far as I was able with my locks still wound around his fingers. He let go and began to stroke my head, once scratching behind my ear. "Good boy." He smiled cruelly and I was instantly, shamefully aroused. Without even looking down toward my need, he shifted to Alex and gave him the same treatment. Then he moved back and stepped out of the dressing gown, as if wanting to further entice us. I watched him with a grim anticipation, hoping he'd unchain us and take us back into his bed. But instead he picked up the dressing gown and walked around to the side of the bed, throwing the clothing over a chair and climbing into bed without another word. I felt broken, empty, and my erection wilted immediately. Very soon I could hear the soft whisper of his breath, even and slow, signifying he was asleep.

However, now Alex and I were alone with Remy. No guard was posted to keep us from speaking or touching. I had laid back down when I was sure Remy had fallen asleep. Now I was facing my brother. He was stretched out on his side also, looking at me with a sad smile on his face. Slowly, a bit fearful that the guard would suddenly appear or our master would wake, I inched my hand over to Alex until our fingers were entwined.

We stayed like that for an hour, maybe more, just holding hands, glorying in the connection, the first chance to touch and be touched. As with all things, you can't really appreciate them until they're taken away. Like freedom. I may have been hated and feared on Earth, but at least I could relatively come and go as I pleased. I could make my own decisions. And I had never been forced to endure this frightening loss of connection with other human beings. I was free to love who I wanted. Free to be who I wanted to be. Perhaps the ruby quartz glasses marked me as a mutant, shackling me to a monochrome world of red, but I was really beginning to see that it was a small price to pay for being my own person.

"I'm getting out of here," I whispered to Alex with a newfound vehemence. "First chance I get!"

Even in the dim light I could see my brother's eyes widen in shock and fear at the tone of my voice. I hadn't spoken of escape so fiercely in months.

"This won't last," Alex finally whispered back. "He won't keep us chained here forever. He won't stay mad at us."

"I don't care!" I snapped, still keeping my voice low so as not to wake Remy. "I'm sick of this. One mistake, one fit of anger and he treats us like dogs. It's a fucking nightmare. At least Magneto would have killed us by now. Gotten it over with already. But Remy..." I snarled with distaste, "he wants our love, our respect. He thinks he can make me...us...worship him. And I won't. Ever!"

My brother's eyes came alive with his own anger. "I'm telling you Scott, it won't work. You'll never get away."

"And I'm telling you I don't care!" I whispered furiously again. "First chance I get, with or without you, I'm going to find that portal. Even if it gets me killed, I'm going through. Remy has some hold over you. I can't help that. You're protecting your lover or lovers. Well, that's not my concern anymore. Hell! You won't even tell me their name!" I accused. Alex glared at me, but I hurried on, not letting him speak. "I want your help. I want to protect you. But you guard your secrets. How can I help you if you won't even try? If you won't even trust me?"

"Scott..." Alex began softly, trying to protest.

"No, Alex! I'm ending this nightmare one way or another. If you want to come with me, if you want to help me, let me know. If not, I'll keep my plans to myself and get out of here. That way Remy can't accuse you of being an accessory."

With that I let go his hand and rolled away from him, curling myself into a ball. I was afraid. Afraid of losing Alex. Irrationally afraid of leaving Remy. And terrified of going home. Of having to face Jean and the others. How would I ever be able to explain all this to them? But the fear only fueled my anger. I would get away from here. And when I was back at the mansion, I'd gather the X-men, contact Reed Richards and maybe even the Avengers and find a way back here to free the 'earthers'. And my brother. And whoever he was protecting. And Zaki. I would find him and bring him home.

I felt a tentative stroke across my back. One finger traced along a welt that had almost faded. "If you have to, Scott, I won't stop you. But I won't help you either." His voice caught on the words. I could hear a slight tremor as he spoke. "If you need to find out how futile it is, then try. But I'm telling you, however much I admire your intelligence, however much I respect your ability and love you, you won't get away. And when he recaptures you, you'll regret you ever tried." I shook my head ready to argue with him, but the tone of his whispered words stopped me. "No," he said, "you will regret it. He'll make you regret it. You think this is cruel of him. You haven't seen what he's capable of. And then he'll bind you to him like he's done to me."

Alex fell silent and pulled his hand away from my back. I was shivering now, but not from any coldness in the room. I wrapped my arms around my chest and began to rock nervously back and forth. It crossed my mind that I used to do this back in the early days of the orphanage, as a measure of comfort. But the thought was too fleeting to feel embarrassed or weak, so I kept rocking, swearing to myself that I'd make it out. I'd escape.

When I glanced back at Alex, he was turned on his side with his back to me. His shoulders seemed to twitch every few seconds and for a moment I thought he was crying. I wanted to pull him to me. I wanted to hold him and tell him that everything would be okay. But I'd be lying. Nothing would ever be okay again. Not if I couldn't escape and remained Remy's slave until I died. And not if I escaped and came back for him. Nothing would ever be the same. Nothing would ever be okay. And something, perhaps that fear or the sense of betrayal I'd had in the slave quarters, held me back. I left him to his misery. I had my own to contend with. Several hours seemed to pass before I fell asleep.