AUTHOR: SisterWine (added onto and finished by Rick)
Rating: PG-17, maybe NC-17 later on. [email protected], [email protected]
Warnings: It has that horrid Rogue in it! And some casual silliness.
DISCLAIMER: They aren't mine. Marvel Comics and 20th Century Fox owns them.
Summary: I was just thinking about what would Remy's first mission be, after he and Logan had
moved back into the LeBeau Manor in LA. I know, I know, I'm stuck on the series. It really haunts me. I'm not meaning to sound conceited, or biased or anything. I was just wondering.
Remy came to, days later. Opening his eyes to find himself in his room, alone. Clothing removed and a lightweight T-shirt and boxers adorned him. His arms had been outside of the soft and cool covers, as he lay on his back and stared up at the ceiling. He groaned silently as he moved to sit up and stare at the drawn curtains. Daytime, still.
His head hurt and his chest and back felt as if a pitchfork had been driven through him. Again. He was alive, and bandaged, and placed in his bed like he had asked for. He was clean and cool. As he had been the only one in the bed, and room, he turned himself to the right and slid his legs off to try to stand up. He sat there a moment before pushing himself up to stand. The door was open, and he could hear faint band music coming from downstairs.
Small steps scooted along the floor. Leaning on the doorframe and coming to a stop as dizziness washed over him in sickening waves, he groaned again, softly. Resting his head on his right hand as it held to a high enough part on the frame, he swallowed and forced back the vomit that rose in his throat. His vision swam and darkened, then blurred, but he was able to make out a figure coming up the stairs and rushing towards him.
"Non!" He shouted, and pushed himself back from the door, nearly falling backwards into the door.
Logan stopped and grabbed hold of Remy before the thin and pale Cajun could fall. "Hey, relax darlin. Just me."
Remy leaned against Logan and let the older man hold him up. "Home...?"
"Yea, darlin. We're home." Carefully, he lowered himself to sit on the floor and place Remy on his lap. "Been out for a week, kid. Was startin to think you checked out on me." He paused to kiss Remy's forehead and run a hand lightly over the silken hair. "You okay?"
Remy nodded.
"Hungry?"
"Non." Remy whispered. "De chere an' cherie okay?"
Logan smiled as Remy had been more worried about them, than himself. "Yea, kid. They're just fine. Askin
'bout you, though."
Remy looked up from the floor to stare into Logan's eyes. "Guess Remy screw up, huh?"
"Yea." Logan sighed. "But, you kept your word and kept Jubilee outta the fight. That was good. It's just gonna take some time before I let you out to play, again."
"Dat mean no sex, 'gain?"
Logan inhaled deeply. "Yea, darlin. That means no sex, til you can stand on yer own."
Lowering his head and nodding in hurt agreement, Remy lifted his right hand to Logan's chest and felt his heartbeat through the black cotton T-shirt. "Wha' 'bout you, Logan? Dat mean Remy can' touch you, or 'help' you when ya feel-- dat way?"
"What way, Rem?"
"Dis way, cher." Slipping a hand down, between Logan's legs to feel him firm manhood rise and twitch beneath his denim jeans.
Inhaling sharply, Logan cupped his hand over Remy's and moved it away, gently. "I think.... we'd better get you back to bed." A hand softly brushed the stray hair from Remy's face.
Remy leaned forward and kissed him, still sitting on the floor. Savouring the kiss and deepening it to his best ability, he couldn't feel the strong hands lifting him off of the floor and nudging him back to bed. As his head hit the pillow, his arms wrapped around Logan's neck and held him close. "Logan, please.... *kiss* stay wit' me.... *kiss*... No sex, oui, but jus' be b'side me, no?" His eyes stared into Logan's, giving him 'puppy eyes' until the older man gave in.
Logan hovered just above him, hands planted on either side of Remy. He sighed and nodded at the request. "Just gonna go turn off the stereo and lights, okay?" He sat down and released himself from Remy's grasp. "Need anythin?" He offered with a slight smile, hoping Remy would be hungry.
"Mmm, bat'room." Remy blushed. "Need help, cher."
Nodding and helping him to the bathroom, Logan went as far as to lower the boy's shorts before straightening from a crouched position, and lowering Remy onto the plastic seat. Kissing him again, before leaving, he gave Remy explicit instructions to stay on the seat until he came back.
Remy only nodded, and waited for Logan to leave before going. When he finished, he flushed and waited for Logan to return, before moving.
Logan had made a call to New York to tell the group that Remy was awake and okay, so far. He had been
talking on the phone while piling an assortment of fruit into a bowl and making his way back up the stairs to help Remy back to bed. Hanging up and setting the bowl beside the phone, on his nightstand, he went back for Remy. He couldn't stop the smile that came to his lips as he stared at the Acadian, sitting very still and straight, with his boxers at his ankles and his shirt folded neatly in his lap. "Mm, darlin, you don't know how good you look."
Tilting his head to the left, Remy smirked. "Always ready, for you, cher. Bu', den again, you say no sex.... remember?" He cooed.
Logan had smiled and laughed a bit, until Remy had bent over to pull his boxers up to his knees. Stiffening and swallowing dryly, Logan walked briskly to his young lover and pulled him to stand up as he finished dressing Remy. For a few moments, he had forgotten about what he had done to Remy. But, seeing the 3 red marks on the boy's smooth back, had made it all too clear why Remy needed his help in doing things. As the younger man leaned against him, Logan had snaked his arms around the thin waist and held him close.
Confused and trying to sort through the emotions that crowded the room, Remy wrapped his arms around the broad shoulders and closed his eyes. Moments later, he was pushed back and the T-shirt was taken from his hands and slipped over his head. Logan was dressing him. Realising what Logan had seen, he stood there and let himself be dressed and carried back to bed, in silence.
Logan rest against the headboard, and fed Remy every other bite of fruit from the bowl. The lanky Acadian lay to his right, and draped himself partially over the older man's side, to which Logan had mostly enjoyed. With the bowl balancing on his left thigh, and his sensual love on his right, he was in Heaven. His hand rubbed idly at Remy's right shoulder, looking past Remy and staring at the curtains.
"Cher...?" Remy had sat up and stared at him for about two minutes. The room had begun to grow dark from the sunset, outside, and Remy's eyes had started to glow. "Logan?!"
"Hm?..... What?" Numbly, Logan turned his head and blinked at the glowing red eyes. "What's the matter?"
Remy closed his eyes and looked away. He had been talking to his lover but, grew silent when a question went unanswered. "S' not'in, cher." He lay back down on Logan's chest and sighed.
His brow furrowed, taking the bowl and placing it on the table, he nudged the Cajun away and sat up. "Remy, what's the matter?"
"Nev'rmine, cher. Ya far away from me." His sombre mood had returned ten-fold. He groaned in pain as he moved to lie on his side of the bed and roll away from Logan.
Strips of red had spread over the white cotton, catching Logan's eye. Reaching into the small drawer on the nightstand beside the bed, on his side, he grabbed the box of baby wipes with a powder scent, and a small bottle of aloe vera. Gingerly rolling Remy back towards him, Logan scoot back so that his back was flat against the headboard, and told Remy to lie over his lap and remove his shirt. Brushing the long auburn hair to Remys right shoulder, he took a breath and waited.
Pulling the shirt over his head and placing his chest on Logan's muscled legs, he quirked in curiosity. "What's dis for? Don' tell me, ya gonna spank Remy, no?"
He smirked and opened the plastic box of baby wipes and began dabbing at the seeping wounds on Remy's back. "Nope." He stopped as Remy hissed in pain. "It's either me, or Hank, that's gonna do this. And, I figure, you
ain't in the mood to be stuck in the medlab. Gotta keep yer wounds clean so they can heal."
"Oh."
Spreading the gel had taken some convincing on Logan's part. He had had to soothe the young man, and lay him back down while constantly reassuring him that the substance would be warmed in his fingers before it touched Remy's back. Slow circles in tiny motions were applied to each of the red scrapes. An occasional giggle from the young man lying across his legs had sparked a laugh or two in him. When he finished, he cleaned his hands with a clean wipe before discarding the two napkins into a plastic grocery bag, beside the bed. Replacing the containers to the drawer, Logan had turned to let Remy know he could move to his own side again but, was hushed abruptly when his stare caught his partner napping in his position. Sighing and reclining back, he had made a silent comment to himself. ".... or, just go ahead and take a nap on my legs. I wasn't goin' anywhere,
just yet."
**************************
Days went past before Remy could stand on his own. Walking to the bathroom in nothing but an extra long T-shirt, he had wanted to take a bath and look presentable for a change. Deciding on the old fashionings, he had filled the tub up with warm water and a powder packet of Epsom Salts. Pouring a few drops of lilac scented bubbles in and removing the shirt before easing down into the water, Remy reached over the side and turned the water off. He had been unwilling in letting updated changes occur within the house but, accepted a few minor improvements.
The pipes had needed to be changed, and were. A music and security system had been added to the house, as well. New white and black four-inch square tiles had been added to the two bathrooms, as well as brand new cherrywood flooring in each of the bedrooms. The change was little but, freshly noted as advancements.
The one upkeep Remy had liked, and carried around with him, was his CD collection of Big Band legends. Of the few he mostly enjoyed had been Glenn Miller, Tommy Dorsey, Count Basie and Cab Calloway, for compact carrying. Glenn Miller had become his favourite bathtime music. A small silver case with clear plastic shutters for a CD and cassette accompanied him to the bathroom. The player itself was a roundish shape, with speakers on the sides while the cassette player sat in front and the disc player was on top. As the box sat on the toiletseat lid and played, Remy danced in place and sang with the songs that were sung.
Nodding his head from side to side and swinging his body in small movements, Remy had been aware of the crouching figure behind him. With hands on his shoulders, he hadn't stopped to see Logan behind him. "Ya want to join, Logan? Dere's room for two."
It had been tempting, and the tune had slowed from "In The Mood" to "Moon Love". Logan had spent the day and a sliver of the evening, outside cutting the yard and repairing the loose boards to the front porch. Unaware that he had been staring and quiet for so long, he was asked again to join the bath. Removing his jeans and boots, he had been glad for skipping wearing a shirtas it would have been one more thing to dirty before discarding into the laundry, he smirked and climbed in behind Remy. "This water's almost cold, kid."
Remy flattened his hand just below the water's surfaceline and concentrated. He stopped with a gasp as his
wrist had been grabbed and pulled up, out of the water. "Que?"
"No. No powers, just old-fashioned, man made fawcets." Stating the hidden concern along with the casual request, Logan released him and leaned back against the porcelain. His eyes stared at the three marks on the
once completely smooth and light olive skin. He had done that. And, ironically, the marks on his back were parallel to the marks on the boy's chest. It puzzled him as to how Remy could have survived being stabbed from the back but, not the front. "Back feel okay?" Calmly inquiring and trying not to let the worry seep in to his voice.
The slim shoulders shrugged and leaned forward to let out some water before replacing it with hotter water. "Feels... okay. Aches from bein in bed all this time."
"I know." His right thumb rubbed at the last scarred line. With each stroke, the replay of the gruesome event flashed before him. A tense shiver as he leaned forward and kissed Remy's right shoulder. He had caught the flinch and muffled groan before the seductive, catlike moves of Remy turning around to look at him.
"Somethin' the matter, no?" The Acadian gave the man a quizzical stare.
Swallowing with a shallow effect, Logan stared back into the fire on darkness and answered painfully. "Yes."
"What?" Came the calm inquiry.
Logan couldn't stop himself from the way his answer came out, nor could he stop the tone to which it had appeared. "Yer still here." Darkly put and deliberately left open for the younger of the two to explain, he swallowed and waited for the consequences. The colour that had been in the boy's face had vanished, leaving behind a mix of pale skin and dismal emotion.
Down-trodden eyes and a feeling of complete disappointment that had ingrained itself into him, Remy turned to shut the water off and stand up. The words he had hoped to have been able to say had evaporated, leaving only the hurt in his back. "Why is Remy.... here?" He paused but, didn't look at Logan. "Why did he die de first time, and not the last? Why?" The reasons had become obsolete. Peach lips turned white were wet by a dry tongue as the fingertips of his left hand tapped at the bottom lip.
In an effort to get Remy to stay and talk, Logan had stood and grabbed hold of the wiry arms. "Sit back down, please. Talk to me." It had been worth a shot to try and he sighed in reluctance that his request had been met.
**************************
Remy sat on the front porch steps, reading the morning paper, and drinking coffee. He had glanced over each page, but stopped as he reached the obituaries. His eyes opened wide as he stood up and stared in shock at one particular entry. "Non.... oh, non.... no' now." Folding the right side back, as the entry had been on the left side of the paper, Remy had reread the caption at least twice and stared at the picture until Logan had come out to join him.
"What's the matter?" Logan held a cup of coffee in his right hand and stood beside the younger with his left
hand on Remy's back. "Remy?" He had glanced over Remy's shoulder to see what he was looking at, but hadn't found the spot. It had been a nice and unusually warm morning, so they had both decided to sit outside, after breakfast, and talk or read the paper. Logan sat down on the top step and placed his cup beside him before reaching up and gently guiding Remy to sit back down, in front of him, on the second step. As the Cajun sat down, undetered from staring at the picture, Logan asked again. "What's wrong? You okay? Didn't see yerself, didja?"
Lowering the paper and letting it rest on his lap, Remy lowered his head and sobbed quietly for a moment. The entry appeared in the top left corner, making it easy for Remy to fold the bottom up and hand it back for Logan to read. "My only chile is gone, now. T'anks ta Michel, never got ta be in his life. Remy bury his wife, long ago, now- he bury his chile dat he never knew." He could hear the soft hit of the paper being put down to his left,
and warm hands on his shoulders, guiding him back to rest against an equally warm chest. The shock had been overpowering for him to handle, he had been through so much but, wasn't counting on one last blow. "My Mali..... is gone, cher. But, I- I- wanted ta tell him so much. Wanted t' show him dat his poppa still loves him, an' dat he still has a poppa. So much... Now, he's gone. Gone."
Letting Remy sit forward and sob into his folded arms that rested on his knees, Logan checked the paper again and leaned forward to kiss Remy's right shoulder. "Says the funeral's Wednesday. Wanna go....?"
Remy shook his head and continued sobbing.
"Look, I know it's hard to lose someone you didn't know but, if ya don't go, you might not get the chance to
say what you wanted." Logan took a shallow breath and held it for a moment. "Says he had a few kids and grandkids, maybe they'd understand--?"
Remy pulled away and stood up before walking down the few steps and turning to stand on the gravel, and
stare back at the older man. "Understan' what, cher? Dat Remy- dis.... young chile- is.... was..... deir poppa's fat'er? Non. Remy's not an idiot, Logan. Only Malicoire would understan' Remy. Now, he's gone. Belle should have been here! Mali, too! Jus' needed-- wan'ed a family dat Remy call his own, no? Instead, she die an' Michel fuck Remy up an' make him send de only son he have, away. Den you--" He paused to gasp for air between his sobs and spouts of anger. He noticed that Logan had sat forward at the mention of his name, and listened more intently. "Ya tell Remy dat you love him, an' dat ya take care of him. But, ya didn', Logan. Ya kill him an' shove him in a box like a dead dog!" The tears flowed more freely down his cheeks. He really didn't mean what he said but, the shock and the pain was too much for him. He was out of place and needed desperately to fit in.
Taken aback by the outpour of emotion, Logan stood up and walked down the steps, holding his arms open. "C'mere." He came to a stop on the last step, in front of Remy, and wrapped his arms around him as they embraced. "You might not have liked doin it but, I think it was better that it happened that way. You kept Michel from him, and that's what parents do. Protect their child." He choked as a few memories of himself and how he was had come back to him. "Havin the kid around here would have only made it that much more of a strain on ya. I ain't tryin to tear ya down more, kid, I just want you to see that you gave him a chance at life." Stroking Remy's hair and holding him close, he knew Remy was listening to him. "You coulda had a life too, instead ya chose to come back and deal with Michel..... and, me." Logan took a deep breath and exhaled, slowly. "When I talked to him, he told me that this Priest you gave him to, told him about you. Said that you and yer wife went to that same church to get married, and you had him baptized there. With that description, he told his children, when they were young. If he had your powers, and eyes, shouldn't you give his family the benefit of the doubt? They may not understand it all but, I think they might listen to ya and what you have to say. Don't you think?"
Remy blinked. His head rest on Logan's left shoulder, looking out at the yard. He'd listened to everything Logan had said and was trying to sort it out as best he could. After a silence, he nodded. "What d' I tell dem when dey ask why I give him up? Dey don' need ta know 'bout Michel, an what Remy done for him. Remy's jus' a whore."
"You did what you had to, to survive. You don't have to tell them about Michel. That's your business. You said before you weren't ready for handlin a kid on yer own. I'm sure he understood that." Soothing words and even strokes on the auburn silk made Logan start to wonder if Remy was truly okay with what was being said. "Come on back inside. You need a rest from this, for awhile."
Nodding and following Logan back into the house, they had spent the rest of the morning in bed.
Remy had curled up closely to Logan, and shuttered and twitched at the visions and nightmares that played into his head. Names and incoherent sentences were numbly mixed together in a mesh of confusion. He had tried to explain through his ramblings why he had done what he saw in his own mind but, only managed to confuse himself and his listener more. With his eyes still closed and demons invading his mind, he sat up and bluntly explained that he was only there to live the rest of his life as he should have done. His voice bellowed as he told the loudest of the taunting images he loved the man called "Logan", and wanted desperately for his older lover to fix him and give him back his chance at growing old.
Logan had sat up and stared into the face that was now wide eyed and looking at him. "I can't fix ya, Rem." His throat dried out as he swallowed. "I'm sorry."
Not another word was spoken. Remy had simply nodded and leaned into the man's broad chest.
To be continued, again..... one last chapter.......