Title: Heaven sent 3

Author: Morgana (morganalebeau@yahoo.com)

Website: http://www.oocities.org/morganalebeau/

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Heaven sent

By Morgana

 

 

Chapter Ten

Sleeping in the fire

Taste the love
Lucifer's magic that makes you numb
The passion and all the pain are one
You're sleeping in the fire

Blackie Lawless

"Poppa?" Remy repeats in bafflement and suddenly becomes aware of the fact that Jean-Luc is warmly caressing his fingers. That gesture feels so damn reassuringly and familiar that he tries to sit upright to get closer to his father.
"Don't, Remy," Jean-Luc says quickly, applying minor pressure on his son's chest. "Don't try to sit up. You're wounded." The feelings moving through him are intense. He was afraid to hope that Remy would remember him, but his son knows who he is! The stare in Remy's red on black eyes is awfully familiar. It's a lost expression he only knows too well.
But he also knows how to deal with his son. If what Warren told him is true, Remy will have to relearn using his mutant powers and he chuckles softly, remembering all the things Remy accidentally charged and blew up in those early days.
But there's also a dark side they will have to confront. Shivers run down his spine. They will have to discuss the Antiquary and the abuse his son suffered. But he overcame this problem before, he can deal with it again and this time he will tell Remy the absolute truth. No more white lies, no more holding back. He wants an open relationship, no more lies!
Remy tries to smile, but is growing uneasy as his father remains quiet. Did he do something wrong? He never felt this lost before, knowing instinctively that Jean-Luc is struggling with something.
Afraid to speak up, he concentrates on their physical presence. Jean-Luc is holding his left hand and his angel his right. Feeling cherished, his gaze shifts from Jean-Luc to Warren.
Warren feels completely lost. Remy's eyes cut through his soul and he can no longer deny the truth; he's falling in love with the Cajun! He curses the fact that he can't get up and simply walk away from this. He owes Remy big time. The only thing left to do is act like nothing has changed and try to come to terms with this attraction. Hopefully this feeling will fade away quickly!
"Remy?" Jean-Luc smiles warmly, seeing the confusion on his son's face. "You're back in your old room. I hoped it would make you feel more comfortable. You know who I am?" he asks eventually, wanting to test Remy's returning memory. What does his son remember? What is he still locking away?
Confused, Remy locks eyes with Jean-Luc. "I don' really know," he whispers.
"What do you know?" Jean-Luc presses on, still rubbing his son's fingers.
Suddenly, without thinking the words flow from his lips. "You saved my life when I was little? took me in when I tried to steal your money."
"Oui, dat's right." Jean-Luc smiles kindly. "I adopted you."
Warren looks up. This is something new. //You're not his real father?// Yet another mystery to solve. "Adopted?" he says questioningly.
Remy and Jean-Luc exchange looks. "You want to tell him, son?" Jean-Luc wants to know what else Remy remembers.
Slowly, Remy nods his head, equally curious to find out what memories are surfacing. "I was? ten?"
"Oui," Jean-Luc replies relieved, reminding himself to take this slowly. He has to try and concentrate on the good things that happened to Remy. They can deal with the bad stuff once Remy's healed. "I adopted you when you were ten."
A weak smile flows from Remy's face. "I escaped de?" he doesn't really want to say the word, but he has to, "de Antiquary and had no place to go."
"You tried to steal my wallet, you scoundrel!" Fondly, Jean-Luc smiles at him. //How could I ever hand over a baby to de Antiquary? Remy will pay de price for my mistake de rest of his life!//
Remy cocks his head and sends a beaming smile in Warren's direction. Contrary to Jean-Luc, Warren's fingers feel icy cold. Concerned, he tries to lock eyes with his angel, but Warren averts his. A sting of sadness moves through him and Remy wonders why his angel doesn't want to look at him.
Jean-Luc picks up on the sudden chill and gently squeezes Remy's hand. "You turned de LeBeau household upside down, petite. You ran up and down de stairs, plundered de food supplies and hid underneath my desk to get my attention. You kept me busy, you still do!"
Warren's staring at Remy's nimble fingers, which rest in the palm of his hand. Those fingers bandaged his wound, tangled in his hair as Remy soothed him after his nightmares. In spite of Remy's sordid past, the Cajun was never afraid to touch him when offering comfort and all he can think of is mimicking Jean-Luc's earlier action. He wants to lift those fingers to his lips and kiss them one by one, suckling their tips.
Shocked by his own desires he feels miserable. Hesitantly, he moves his fingertips over the back of Remy's hand, rubbing the skin in a soothing manner. As he's absentmindedly caressing those long fingers, something Jean-Luc said finally sinks in. //He was ten? Remy was ten when Jean-Luc adopted him?// A revelation lies at the edge of his mind and he's trying hard to grasp it.
//My God!// he yelps mentally. //Does this mean the Antiquary abused him for ten years? Ten long years filled with pain? Oh no, and he ended up on the streets after he escaped? He had to survive somehow until Jean-Luc found him.// He can hardly imagine the terror Remy was exposed to in the first years of his life and helplessly, he seeks out Remy's eyes.
How could he ever think they were arrogant and cocky? Why did he never look past that mask? Why did he never see the pain hiding in them? It breaks his heart, realizing what being a slave to the Antiquary did to Remy. "I am so sorry," he mumbles in an unguarded moment, earning a puzzled glance from Remy.
"Ange?" Remy whispers, taken aback by the regret that shines from Warren's eyes.
"I only now realized?" Warren seeks out Jean-Luc's eyes. "What he did to you."
Still puzzled, Remy wants to ask Warren for an explanation, but Jean-Luc shakes his head no and he remains quiet. Why are both these men so awfully protective of him? He can take care of himself! Has been doing that his entire life.
However, Jean-Luc has a pretty good idea what Warren just realized. He doesn't like to think or talk about the Antiquary himself, but for his son's sake he will have to face the sorcerer one day. Banishing him from the thieves' Guild wasn't enough.
"I'm such a bastard," Warren mumbles absentmindedly, barely registering Remy's protest. "You don't know what I did to you, Remy." Warren raises his head and stares at the ceiling, remembering his failure at the trial.
He never tried talking to the Cajun, find out what kind of person Remy was. It's like Apocalypse said, he judged Remy without compassion or understanding.
"Warren?" Remy tries again, this time ignoring Jean-Luc's warning eyes. "What's wrong? You're in pain?" he asks, remembering the sniper attack. "Did someone look after your wound?"
Warren can't take this any longer and abruptly releases Remy's hand. Even after all what the Cajun's been through he's still worried about him? Disgusted with his own behavior Warren rises to his feet. Remy's big eyes tear at his soul. The last thing he wants to do is to leave the Cajun, but this is best for both of them. "Need to make some calls," he says apologetically and starts for the doorway.
"Ange?" Remy tries calling him back, although Jean-Luc is telling him no. What happened just now? Why did Warren jump to his feet like that? He desperately craves learning those answers.
"Let him go, petite. He will be back," Jean-Luc interrupts. "We will take turns sitting with Remy, won't we, monsieur Worthington?" He's figured out by now, why Warren is this reluctant to leave his son's side. It's guilt. Whatever happened between Warren and his son is still unresolved. If there is one thing he has learned in his long life, it's that running away will only make things worse.
Warren turns his back on Remy and Jean-Luc as he doesn't want them to see his facial expression. His lip trembles and his hands turn into fists. Why would Remy want him to sit with him? He messed up so much!
"Worthington?" Jean-Luc presses on, worried by Remy's saddened eyes.
"Yes," he says eventually, feeling more and more uncomfortable with every passing second.
Smugly, Jean-Luc smiles at his son. Whatever is going on, he will find out the truth. "You see, petite? He will sit with you when I can't."
Warren mumbles something intelligible and marches out of the room. Yes, he needs to call the mansion and talk to Wolverine. Although Logan and he never got along, he knows that Wolverine can't deny this request. The Canadian's claws are the only substance that will cut through Remy's shackles.
"Poppa?" Remy looks up at his father, fighting his growing fatigue. "I didn' remember you?"
"I realize dat, otherwise you would have come to me." Jean-Luc takes a deep breath. "You got any questions for me?"
Gingerly, Remy nods his head, but he's afraid of actually asking this question.
"Come on, son, speak," Jean-Luc encourages him in a gentle tone.
"De? Antiquary? can he still hurt me?" Remy lowers his eyes and stares at Jean-Luc's hand. "I still don' remember everyt'in'," he explains awkwardly.
"Dat man will never again lay a finger on you," Jean-Luc promises passionately. "You're safe here, my son. No one can hurt you here."
Relieved, Remy's eyes close. "Merci, wasn' sure," he whispers fatigued. "Poppa?"
"Oui?" Jean-Luc leans forward and kisses his son's brow.
"Look after Ange for me? He needs someone to take care of him," Remy whispers and smiles warmly. "I like him."
"You always had a t'ing for angels," Jean-Luc replies with a soft chuckle. "Don't worry about him, Remy. I'll keep an eye on him for you. Anything else?" He smiles, already knowing Remy's answer.
"Hold me?" Remy says hesitantly, remembering how it used to feel, surrendering to his father's love and care. If it hadn't been for this man he wouldn't be alive today. After he got away from the Antiquary he considered taking his life. Only Jean-Luc stood between him and his death wish.
"Mais oui," Jean-Luc whispers affectionately. He slips one arm underneath Remy's shoulders and leans in closer, holding his son tightly. "I used to rock you. It was de only way you would go to sleep."
Remy smiles melancholy as Jean-Luc cautiously rocks him in his arms. "Je t'aime, poppa," he mumbles pleased and contentedly.
"And I love you too, my son. I always will," Jean-Luc promises, rocking his son in his arms. If it weren't for the injury, he would pull Remy upright and wrap his arms around his son. "Now try and rest. I also want your promise dat you won't try to leave your bed."
Remy chuckles. "Does dat mean you don' trust me, poppa?"
"I KNOW you, Remy. You'll get bored and den?" Jean-Luc cups his son's face in the palm of his hand and looks deeply into his eyes "Let me care for you, Remy, like I did before. You're not alone in dis."
Fatigued, Remy smiles lazily. "Will stay in bed, I promise."
"Bien!" Jean-Luc exclaims satisfied, lays his son down gently and pulls up the comforter. "Warm enough?"
Silently, Remy nods his head. He feels completely at peace and cherished.
"I will sit with you for now. Later, your friend will take over." Resting his back against the chair Jean-Luc smiles as Remy's eyes close completely. "Sleep and have sweet dreams, my son." A solitary tear slips down his check. //If anyone deserves wonderful dreams, it's you, petite.// Still holding onto Remy's left hand, he sits there, truly enjoying watching his son sleep.

Feeling uncomfortable, Warren sinks down onto his bed. Louis showed him to his guest room and he has to admit Jean-Luc has excellent taste. The room is richly furnished and actually makes him feel welcome.
But he can't deny that his thoughts are somewhere completely else, in another room in the same wing. Remy? All he can think about is Remy and the way he reacted to feeling that skin underneath his fingertips.
"Focus!" Warren says angrily and picks up the phone. Jean-Luc will probably have his men listening in on the call, but that doesn't matter, as they discussed calling the X-Men. Warren dials Logan's personal phone number. "Come on, be there!"
"What the hell? Who's this? It's 4 in the mornin'!"
"Logan, it's Warren."
"That figures!" Feeling grumpy, Logan considers terminating the call. But something about this feels odd. Why would Warren call him in the middle of the night? He sits upright in bed, pushing a pillow underneath his neck. "What do ya want, Wings?" It's no secret they can't stand each other. That makes this call even more suspicious. "Yer in trouble?"
Warren takes a deep breath, hearing the disdain underneath the polite tone. "I'm not in trouble, not any more," he starts thoughtfully. "But I do need your help."
"MY help?" Did he mishear? "MY help, Wings? Why?"
"I need you to come to New Orleans ASAP," Warren says cautiously, uncertain whether he should bring Remy up just yet.
"New Orleans?" Logan's eyes narrow. "What are ya doin' in Cajun country?"
"Are you coming or not? I'm not kidding, Logan. I need your help." Frustrated, he wishes there is another way of getting those shackles off, but this is the only thing he can think of.
Reluctant to commit to this, Logan grabs a cigar. "Give me a reason why."
Warren bangs his fist into one of the pillows on the bed. It feels oddly liberating. "Can't you just trust me this once?"
"Why would I?" Logan counters. "I'm perfectly fine here in Westchester."
Warren considers his alternatives, but he can't tell Wolverine about Remy yet. He doesn't know if Remy wants the X-Men to know he's still alive. "I can't force you, Logan, but?" he almost bites off the tip of his tongue speaking this last word, "Please?"
This gets Logan's attention. Warren saying please? That's definitely a first. "Kay," he gives in. "Will take me a day or two to get there. Bobby and Scott are on some mission and took the Black Bird."
"Logan?" Relieved, Warren lies down on his left side. "You won't regret it. Thanks." Now that Logan agreed to help him he just wants to get some sleep.
"Don't thank me yet," Logan warns him. "And this better be good!" Irritated at the interruption he terminates the connection and lies back. What the hell has gotten into Warren? The man sounded worried? Well, he will find out shortly.

Warren strips off his shirt and throws it onto the floor. He's tempted to take a shower before getting some sleep, but can't drag his tired body away from the bed. His eyes close and a contented sigh leaves his lips. Maybe everything will turn out just fine.
Remy will regain his memory and Jean-Luc will help his son get to terms with everything. The moment Logan arrives, he will leave New Orleans. Hopefully, by that time this absurd attraction will have died as well.
Flexing his wings, he spreads them and moves onto his stomach, giving them room to relax. The puncture in his right wing no longer bothers him and his back stopped aching after that doctor re-bandaged it.
He grabs a pillow and pushes it underneath his head. Totally relaxed, he pulls up the comforter and allows himself to fall asleep.

"Ange? Wake up? Ange."
"What?" he mumbles sleepily. "Don't want to wake up." He's having the most fabulous dream?
"Cher? cher?"
Suddenly recognizing the voice Warren feels the heat next to him. "Remy? What??" The Cajun is lying in bed next to him, face partly hidden underneath the comforter. All he sees are mischievous eyes twinkling at him. "Remy??"
"I'm here, cher?"
The obvious longing in that husky voice sends shivers into his soul. "What are you doing here?" Viciously, Warren pulls back the comforter, eager to shoe Remy from the bed and back into his own room. "You should be resting!"
"I'm resting," Remy quips delighted and demonstratively licks his lips, "Want me to prove dat to you, mon amour?"
Now that the comforter is on the floor, Warren realizes his mistake. "You're naked!" he yelps helplessly. Yes, pulling back the comforter was definitely a bad idea, but?
The Cajun has a gorgeous body. Remy's lying on his back and his long legs are spread wide in a seductive invitation. A flat and muscular stomach shines with minuscule sweat and the Cajun is clearly aroused, as his erect cock leaks precum.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Warren whispers breathlessly. The only time he saw other men naked was in the communal shower after training in the Danger Room and that never turned him on! But now his cock is erect within seconds and pounding for release.
"You're hard, cher," Remy mumbles and grins wickedly. "Need me to take care of you? Can do dat for mon ange?"
In disbelief, Warren stares at the agile fingers that slowly wander down his naked chest. Relieved, he remembers that he's still wearing his trousers. That will certainly stop the Cajun! Why is Remy acting like this? For that matter, why is the Cajun is his bed anyway?
But Remy quickly unzips the trousers and slips a bold hand past the waistband.
"Remy, stop? don't do this!" Warren exclaims dazed, as determined fingers close around the base of his cock, which now grows even harder. Involuntarily, he thrusts against that warm hand. "Remy, don't," he repeats in a trembling tone.
A melancholy, even lost expression fills the Cajun's eyes as he speaks, "Know your secrets, ange. You want to fuck me, don' you? Dey always want to fuck me," Remy whispers saddened. "Accepted dat when I was little, but please? don' offer me money or a place in heaven?" he continues pleadingly. "Will do dis because I love you? not 'cause I'm a whore?"
"Rem!" Warren screams in sudden anger as those dextrous fingers fist him wildly. What does the Cajun think he's doing? Remy's words make no sense at all. "Stop babbling and stop touching me!"
But Remy crawls onto all fours, licking his lips. "Let me take care of you?" he whispers seductively. "Will let you fuck me, mon ange?"
Stunned, Warren stares into dilated pupils. Remy's eyes are heavily draped with lust or is it something else? Is it love? "Stop this, Rem," he commands in a calm tone, for some reason feeling completely in control of this situation. Roughly, Warren grabs his wrists, determined to stop the Cajun from making a fool of himself.
But Remy reacts by rubbing his lower body against his erection and for one moment he considers throwing the Cajun on his back and taking him. What does that feel like? Burying himself in Remy LeBeau's willing body? thrusting into that warmth, feeling a tight heat clenching him?
"Don' fight yourself, Ange," Remy whispers with pain in his voice, as he manages to free his wrists.
An alien sadness suddenly washes through Warren, seeing Remy's true agony. His rage fades as begging hands roam his body for warmth, once more fisting him. Warren shakes his head in firm determination. "I don't want this," he says in a surprisingly gentle tone. "Not like this."
"Mais you do, Ange," Remy corrects him, leaning in closer. His lips descend onto the smooth chest and he greedily suckles one hard nipple. "You want to hurt me? Will let you?"
"You're talking nonsense!" Warren insists calmly, but holds his breath as the Cajun raises himself, manoeuvring his body into position. Suddenly, the tip of his cock touches Remy's warm entrance. "I don't want this," Warren repeats sternly. "Not like this. I don't want to hurt you!"
"You hate me," Remy says regretfully and pushes down. "You hate me 'cause you love me."
"Stupid Cajun!" Warren's snarl is filled with repressed desire and passion. Maybe he wants to take the Cajun, but not like this! Quickly, he brings up his arms behind Remy's back before the Cajun can impale himself on his cock. In one smooth movement he rolls Remy onto his back and straddles his hips. Once again, he grabs Remy's wrists and holds them tightly above the auburn hair. "What are you trying to do? Make me rape you?"
Unshed tears simmer in his red on black eyes. As he finally speaks his accent is heavy. "'ave been raped 'fore, not'ing new? Jus' one more homme who can' love me? an' I t'ought you were different, bein' an ange?"
"Rem, I want you to calm down now and?" Warren starts, but halts as Remy's words penetrate his mind. His gaze softens and he hopes Remy hears the affection in his voice. "I'm NOT going to hurt you, Remy. I want you?" He doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence as Remy cuts him short.
"Do you? Do you really want me?" Remy's voice is subdued, balancing between hope and fear of rejection. "Can you love me, Warren Worthington?"
Infuriated and saddened at the same time, Warren stares into alien eyes and then falls towards seductive lips, claiming and bruising them with his passion. "Maybe I can love you, Rem?" he whispers helplessly.
Startled, his eyes flash open, expecting to look into Remy's orbs, but instead he's staring at the ceiling. His hands are empty, no longer restraining Remy's wrists and he's alone in bed. //A dream! It was just a fucking dream!//
Bathing in cold sweat he struggles upright. His breath comes in ragged spurts and his hands shake as they claw into the comforter. Disorientated, he tries to recompose himself. "It was only a dream!" he repeats, trying to reassure himself.
Remy never was in his room, never acted that out of control. It was just a dream! //But a dream I need to think about. The things Remy said? Is my subconscious playing tricks on me or do I really want to hurt him? Hurt him because he makes me feel like this?//
Shocked, he swallows hard and swings his feet onto the floor. That dream seriously upset him! Spreading his wings, he throws back his head in a desire to feel free. His feet no longer touch the floor now that his wings are moving softly. //I can still fly!//
A moment later, he stands in the centre of the room, looking sheepishly at his pounding erection. He can't deny that this particular dream aroused him. But at the same time it makes him feel ashamed, even embarrassed, because Remy accused him of wanting to hurt him.
"That's NOT true! I don't want him to? hurt," he whimpers softly. Marching into the bathroom he heads for the shower. He even wishes Bobby were here to ice the water up for him.
After he moved underneath the chilling water he bows his head and finally allows himself to mentally review the entire dream. Remy's words touched something deep inside him. Yes, maybe he wanted to hurt the Cajun in the past in whatever way possible, but things have changed.
God help him, but he cares for Remy, is in love with him, but he has no idea what to do with that infatuation. His erection refuses to go away as long as the Cajun haunts his thoughts and eventually he curls his fingers around his aching cock. Slowly, he touches himself and feels ashamed because he's imagining that Remy's stroking him to release.
"I've got to forget about Remy! This is wrong! Me getting aroused because of that dream is wrong!" Emotionally drained, he fists his cock, arches his back and shoots his cum into the beam of cold water. "I am NOT in love with him!" he maintains. "I'm NOT!"

 

Chapter Eleven

Somebody to love

When the truth is found to be lies
You know the joy within you dies

Blackie Lawless

"Monsieur LeBeau? We need to talk." In a hurry, Warren marches into Remy's room, determined to tell Jean-Luc's that he'll leave in a few days. But his eyes are magnetically drawn to Remy, who is still asleep. Concern takes over and he tiptoes over to the bed, locking eyes with Jean-Luc.
"Did he have nightmares?" All thoughts of leaving suddenly flee his mind. Remy managed to turn onto his side and is now curled up in foetal position. //Looks like the stab wound doesn't really bother him.//
"Doctor Mansour gave him sleeping meds," Jean-Luc informs him, realizing what's puzzling the X-Man. "Did you already call de hospital in Houston?"
"No, still have to make that call," Warren mumbles and shuffles his feet. In his dream Remy's body felt warm and now that he's awake, he can't get the picture of Remy crawling over to him on all fours out of his head.
But mixed into the lust and passion, which he feels for the young Cajun, is also regret and compassion for what Remy's been through in his short life.
That dream made him think and it's still puzzling him. The way Remy talked to him, the choice of words? the sensual movement of his body? was it just a fabrication of his mind or more?
"When will he wake up?" Warren asks, determined to leave the room before Remy can open those hypnotic eyes. He can't face Remy right now. As it is, he's already trying hard not to blush at the memory of that dream.
"In a few hours, I reckon. Why don't you sit down and keep us company?" Jean-Luc wants to talk to Warren, find out where the X-Man stands.
Warren's wings are spread and Jean-Luc definitely understands why Remy assumed he was dealing with a real angel. If it weren't for the blue skin, he might have been fooled himself! Jean-Luc watches him sit down, realizing his wings must be uncomfortable in certain situations.
Warren manoeuvres his wings into place and then waits for Jean-Luc to speak. Jean-Luc seems uncharacteristically quiet and he knows instinctively that the patriarch is contemplating everything he has seen and learned about Remy during these last few hours.
Jean-Luc releases a soft sigh. He knows his son too well and long recognized the signs. //Remy's falling in love with his angel. We need to tell him de truth and we need to do it fast! It's so like Remy to fall for an 'angel,'// he muses slightly amused. Although Jean-Luc isn't prejudiced against gay couples this development worries him. Remy thinks Warren is a real angel and? //Remy's been seeking redemption his entire life. Warren can't take away his shame or pain, but Remy t'inks dat. Merde!//
He wants his son to be happy and it doesn't matter what gender his lover has, though it still puzzles him why Remy also feels drawn towards men. Men hurt him tremendously in the past and yet? If there is one thing Remy taught him it's that love is genderless, ageless and endless.
It's time to address this matter and Jean-Luc looks Warren in the eye. He needs to take this slowly and test the waters first. "What do you know of my son?"
"Too little," Warren confesses, wondering how to get out of this, but Jean-Luc's brow is determined. "I only know the things that happened after he joined the X-Men and what you told me a few hours ago. About Remy being adopted and the Antiquary, that's it." He feels a little guilty for his ignorance, but remembers that the other X-Men, except for Storm, never tried coaxing the Cajun into talking.
Jean-Luc nods his head. If he's going to do this, he's going to do it right. Remy's falling in love with Worthington and he wants Warren to know what he's throwing away should he choose to walk away from Remy. //Dere really are no second chances?// he thinks saddened.
"I will always remember de first dinner we shared," Jean-Luc starts and rubs Remy's fingers. As he locks eyes with Warren his voice grows stronger. He wants Warren to understand who Remy is, what he's been through and why his son is the way he is.
"I took Remy home after de boy tried to pick my pocket." He smiles warmly. "Even back den he had potential."
Although he's determined not to get drawn in by Jean-Luc's words, Warren has to admit defeat. Closely, he listens to Jean-Luc's voice, which sounds calm and in control.
Jean-Luc nods his head, remembering finally finding the boy. He never told Remy that it wasn't coincidence that the young boy had an opportunity to get close enough to him to try and steal his wallet. He had been searching for the small boy since he sprung Remy from the Antiquary's collection. Unfortunately he had lost sight of the boy after they had made it out of the building.
"Monsieur LeBeau?" Warren wonders about the saddened eyes and addresses the patriarch, suddenly realizing how badly he wants to learn more about Remy.
"Tante Mattie immediately took a liking to de boy and after she made dinner we led Remy into de dining room. At de sight of steak, baked potatoes, vegetables and dessert Remy halted in his tracks. I told Remy to wash his hands first before sitting down at de dinner table, but he ran over to de food. Within seconds, he stuffed de food in his shirt and tried to make his way back to de doorway, but finding it blocked, he crawled under de table. "
Warren raises an eyebrow. "I noticed something too? When we shared some sandwiches he acted like he expected me to take them away from him again. Why?"
"De Antiquary," Jean-Luc says with obvious contempt in his voice. "Dat bastard starved Remy, using food to make him obedient, but it didn't work. It only weakened Remy's body, not his determination."
Resuming his story, Jean-Luc says, "I joined him under de dinner table and when I grabbed his arm to tell him that he could eat as much as he wanted, Remy froze completely, muttering apologies in a choked tone. He begged me not to beat him, or lock him up, dat he would give back de food and?"
Angered and shocked, Warren's eyes grow big. "But he was only ten? How can you starve a child?"
"De Antiquary is a vile man," Jean-Luc explains with guilt in his heart. "He wanted to break Remy? still don't know why."
//Okay,// Warren thinks, //this explains Remy's behavior when it comes down to food, what else do I need to know?//
Jean-Luc understands Warren's questioning look and continues. "When I took Remy in, he was hopelessly scared. Whenever I raised my arm to point something out to him Remy flinched, scared dat I was going to beat him. Each time dat happened I cursed de Antiquary for doing dis much damage. Remy's eyes were always lowered. De Antiquary convinced him dat people hated him because of dose eyes."
A deep anger boils in Warren's mind. "I can't imagine what it must have been like for Remy?" Hearing this infuriates him. Why had no one protected Remy? Where were his parents? Later, he will ask those questions once Jean-Luc is done.
Jean-Luc stares at his son, lost in memories. "I will never forget de scream-filled nights when nightmares tormented every second of his sleep," he reveals. "At first, Remy refused to talk to me about de Antiquary and what de bastard had done to him, but his pain needed a way out and in de end, he sobbed his pain in my arms." Jean-Luc takes a deep breath to bring his emotions back under control.
"You don't know what if feels like to hold a small boy in your arms, who's deadly afraid of being touched. I wanted to rock him, make him feel safe, but he went rigid in my arms. Sometimes, when Remy felt strong enough, he put up quite a fight to keep some distance between us. He broke my heart."
"You're right," Warren whispers with new understanding. "I don't know how that feels, but I've seen his nightmares and managed to calm him down. Yes, he fought me too, telling me not to touch him, but later?"
"It took him a long time to allow someone to hold him," Jean-Luc explains. "We did it step by step. We started by combing his hair, wash his face, and rub his fingers? It was very hard on him.
My horror increased when he finally told me what de Antiquary had done to him. Those stuttered confessions were barely audible, but it was a sign dat he finally started to trust us. We gave him all de time he needed." Jean-Luc still vividly remembers the way Remy twitched in his arms, finally letting everything out.
Warren fears he already knows the truth. "He beat Remy, starved him and??"
"De Antiquary was set on breaking Remy's spirit. When nothing worked de bastard sexually assaulted Remy!" Jean-Luc's voice shakes with anger and fury. "It was his last means of hurting de boy."
Silence descends onto the room after that admission. Warren feels strangely numb, realizing all this happened to Remy in the first ten years of his life. His own childhood had been great. His father had taken care of him and he never wanted for anything, but Remy?
Instinctively, wanting to offer comfort, Warren tightens his hold on Remy's hand.
"At first Remy's behavior mystified me. I just couldn't believe dat de Antiquary had abused him so savagely." Jean-Luc's voice is filled with endless regret.
Warren sits quietly, but his fingernails dig a way into the wood of the chair. //He was only a small child!// he thinks enraged. //He was just a baby!// Like Jean-Luc back then, he now has trouble realizing the enormity of the abuse. //How did Remy ever recover?//
"On dat first night tante Mattie carried him to bed. Remy had dozed off after dinner, due to exhaustion. I now know that it was Remy's first decent meal in his short life. It was de first time people didn't take away his food after showing it to him. Remy later admitted dat during dat first evening he'd waited for us to tell him to sit on his hands, never being allowed to touch de food."
"Poor kid," Warren whispers softly. He never intended to get this emotionally involved, but Jean-Luc's tale is getting to him. Rubbing Remy's fingers he wishes someone had come to the rescue earlier.
"Later dat night, we heard screams. Dey came from Remy's room and we hurried upstairs. When Mattie put him to bed Remy was soundly asleep. But when we entered Remy stood in de corner of his room, begging us not to be angry with him. After we calmed him down, he told us that he wasn't allowed to go to sleep until his master said so. De Antiquary ruled his every thought and de fear dat de monster would be back to get him, consumed him."
Jean-Luc absentmindedly strokes his son's auburn hair, knowing damn well Remy suffered this fate because of him. "Remy was a slave for ten years." Jean-Luc lifts his eyes and stares at the rain, dripping from the window. Re-living this is hard.
"It took us hours to coax him into lying down again. He was so scared dat it was a trap and dat we would punish him later dat we almost despaired. After Remy crawled out of bed again I took him in my arms and lay down with him on de bed. Dat sort of convinced him dat we wanted him to go to sleep. I held him during dat first night, soothed his nightmares and tried to show him dat we wanted to love him." His voice shakes with remembered pain.
As he looks at his son, soundly asleep underneath the warm comforter, Jean-Luc curses his bad judgment. He should have known that the Antiquary was an evil man! //Remy, I hope dat one day you can forgive me,// he thinks saddened. His son will hate him once he knows that his 'loving' father handed him over when he was a newborn.
"How did you?" Warren searches for the right words, "Reach him? Deal with his fear?"
Jean-Luc sighs deeply. "It was hard on both of us, but I dedicated my life to him. I spent every possible moment with him, showing him New Orleans, teaching him how to read and write myself and? we created a ritual before he went to bed."
Curiously, Warren looks from Jean-Luc to Remy. "What ritual?"
"I told you dat Remy was scared to death of being touched. After a few months he allowed Tante and me to dry his skin after he took a shower. It was a great achievement for him. He would take a bath before going to sleep and I enfolded him in warm towels. We did this for years?" Jean-Luc soothingly strokes Remy's brow. "De first time I saw dose scars I reacted like you did."
Warren nods his head. "Making such a transition must have been hard on him."
"Took him two years before he addressed me as poppa. Remy was a quiet boy, always scared to do something wrong because he feared I might punish him for it."
//And when he screwed up with the Marauders we did the same thing. Punish him for making a mistake, never considering the circumstances. And I, bastard that I am, refused to defend him at the trial.// Feeling guilty he wants to leave the room, leave Remy's past behind him, but he can't bring himself to let go of the Cajun's hand.
"And den we had to deal with his mutant powers."
Jean-Luc's voice takes him by surprise. He assumed the patriarch had told him everything there is to know. "Blew up a lot of stuff?" he takes an educated guess. "Even with the X-Men he sometimes charged things accidentally."
Jean-Luc's warm laugh beams through the room. "He blew up paintings, food, tante Mattie curlers, my notebooks, short circuited de security system. We still got large craters in de back yard from de objects he threw out of his room because he accidentally charged them!" These are fond memories. "He instantly got a reputation with de assassins."
Even Warren cracks a smile, relieved to hear something uplifting after Jean-Luc's depressing tale.
"But dere was also de charm and dat made things hard on him."
"Charm?" Warren cocks his head questioningly. "What charm?" The Cajun never told him about that. Do Scott and the professor know or is this just another thing Remy hid from them? "What's that, his charm?"
Jean-Luc's gaze darkens. "Let me explain dis to you den." Oui, if his son is really interested in Warren, the X-Man better know about the charm. Might prevent them from getting hurt.
"When I sat Remy down to talk after he escaped de Antiquary, he kept a distance. He didn't allow me to come within 3 feet of him. After long talks, he asked me why I hadn't ordered him to pleasure me yet. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. After I figured it out, I had to leave de room to get de anger out of my system."
Warren sits on the edge of his chair, dying to learn more about Remy. "Pleasure you?"
"You must understand what de Antiquary did," Jean-Luc chides him. "One of Remy's mutant powers manifested when he was five years old. Somehow, he can influence your emotions."
Warren whistles sharply between his teeth. "Sounds like an empath."
"I don't know about dat, but I do know dat de Antiquary used it against him. Remy told me dat de Antiquary blamed de charm for his abusive actions. For years Remy believed dat de Antiquary raped him because de charm made him do it."
Lost for words, Warren looks at Remy's peaceful expression. "The bastard put all blame on Remy?"
"Oui," Jean-Luc confirms. "He planned on breaking Remy dat way. By doing dat he also made sure Remy stayed away from de other kids. Remy was too afraid dat de charm would affect dem too and dat dey would hurt him."
"Letting you in must have been an immense step for him," Warren realizes. "He must have been terrified that you wanted to hurt him too."
"But his charm doesn't work dat way," Jean-Luc continues in a surprisingly warm and respectful tone. "Oui, he can 'charm' you into doing things you don't really want to do, but? In all dese years dat I cared for him, de charm never struck me as something sexual. It never affected me."
Puzzled, Warren studies the lines edged onto Remy's brow. "I still don't understand? what this charm is," he admits.
"Charm is de wrong word to describe it," Jean-Luc says slowly. "Let me give you an example. When Remy was 13 one of tante's favorite cousins died unexpectedly. At first we didn't understand what had changed, but de house smelled of flowers and dere was dis intense feeling of love and comfort dat seeped through every room. Tante's pain and sadness became more bearable and she remembered de good times dey'd had. Eventually we discovered de source of dis peaceful feeling. It was Remy, doing his best to comfort tante, instinctively using his power to ease her sorrow."
//Definitely sounds like an empath.// In his hand, Remy's fingers move slightly, rubbing the palm of his hand.
"It was de only time ever he allowed dat power to slip from his control." Jean-Luc feels the slow change in movement as well, realizing Remy is waking up. "Do you understand now?"
"Yes," Warren says determinedly. Some of the behavior he observed now makes sense and it makes him wonder if the professor ever picked up on this. Remy could have used some guidance during his time with the X-Men. "But I still got one more question."
Jean-Luc observes Remy to make sure his son can't hear them yet. "What question is dat?"
"How did the Antiquary get his hands on a newborn? Where are Remy's real parents? Didn't they try to find him?" Judging by Jean-Luc's changed facial expression the patriarch won't answer those questions.
And yes, Jean-Luc leans forward, ignoring Warren. "Hello, son. How do you feel?"
Remy's eyes open and a soft smile shines from them. "Better, merci, poppa." Slowly looking about he discovers his angel as well, sitting at his other side. His smile brightens. He feared that Warren would be gone the moment they were safe. "Bonjour, Ange."
Suddenly the dream comes rushing back to him and Warren flushes a crimson red.
Amused, Remy giggles softly. "You're blushin', Warren, why?"
Embarrassed, Warren stares at the floor. Remy giggled like that in his dream and it makes him wonder what kind of lover Remy is. //Nothing like in the dream,// he realizes instinctively, after hearing about the abuse and the way the Antiquary blamed the charm power for his actions. //Timid, nervous, maybe even afraid.//
Pursuing this line of thought, it suddenly makes sense that Remy would pick Rogue to fall in love with. //They can't touch, so he doesn't have to be afraid of what might happen. //
Warren leans back, but indulges Remy whose fingers remain in his hand. //What did that do to you, Remy? Hearing the Antiquary tell you that you're responsible for being raped? That twisted bastard. If he's still alive I will find him and justice will be done.//
"Ange? Warren?"
Remy shifts a little in the bed and Jean-Luc acts immediately, pushing him down again. "Petite, rest."
Fondly, Remy smiles at his poppa. Jean-Luc will never stop protecting him and he loves the older man deeply for his concern. "Can I have somet'in' to drink?" he asks nicely, knowing how to wind his father around his little finger. "I'm t'irsty."
Jean-Luc grins at the smile Remy gives him. "You still remember how to play your poppa, don't you, Remy?" Slowly, he gets up from his chair, stretches his legs and walks over to Warren. "Tell him that you're a mutant," he whispers the command.
Warren nods his head. He knew all along that he had to come clean on this. "I will."
Remy watches them closely, knowing he's missing something here. The moment his father leaves the room, he elbows himself into a sitting position. "How's your wing?"
"Fine," Warren whispers in discomfort. "Shouldn't you be lying down, moving as little as possible?"
Cautiously, Remy shrugs his shoulders. As long as he doesn't try to get out of bed he's fine. His hand moves to his injured side, pressing the bandages closer to the wound, which lessens the pain. "Poppa will give me hell later, mais," he says and wriggles an eyebrow, "I can handle him."
Warren shakes his head and grins, realizing how deeply attached he has grown to the Cajun. "Just stay in bed," he says pleadingly, banishing his unsettling dream into the pit of his mind.
"Why are you dis serious?" Remy asks curiously. Rain taps softly against the window and he feels utterly relaxed. He's in his warm bed, safe and sheltered and no longer walking the streets getting ill because of the wind and rain. //Dis is heaven.//
"We've got to talk, Remy," Warren starts, suddenly too much aware of Remy's trembling fingers in his hand. "Do you know what a mutant is?" He isn't sure why he's so reluctant to do this. The reverie in Remy's eyes bothers him, but he doesn't want to take away Remy's? hope. //The fact that an angel cares for you must mean a lot to you, more than I can possibly imagine and now I'm going to crush that belief.//
Saddened, Remy nods his head. "Oui, I'm a mutant." He doesn't really want to discuss this, doesn't want to talk about his eyes or people calling him le diable blanc.
Remy's answer surprises him. He didn't think the Cajun remembered that much. "Yes, you're a mutant? when did you start to remember?"
"When I saw poppa? when I was little he helped me control de chargin' power," Remy whispers uneasily. "And den dere's my eyes?"
//And the charm power,// Warren thinks privately. "Remy, you see these bracelets?" and he pushes a finger underneath one of them. "They stop you from using your mutant powers. That's why we've got to remove them."
"Dat's why I can' use my powers? I 'ready wondered?" Remy whispers perplexed. //Mais dat also means? my charm power is off!// He no longer has to worry about letting it slip!
Gathering his courage he pulls Remy's hand close and rests it in his lap. He really hates doing this to Remy. "I'm not a real angel, Remy. I'm a mutant too." Closely, he watches Remy's reaction. But the Cajun hardly shows any. Remy only nods his head in understanding.
He figured out that Warren is no real angel when he didn't know his background. Angels know everything, don't they? "Just never wanted to admit it to myself? Made me feel special? bein' friends wid an ange?"
Warren hates seeing the sadness he just put into Remy's eyes. "My codename is Angel? Archangel," he says cautiously, eager to find out whether Remy remembers the X-Men. "I'm sorry to disappoint you."
Awkwardly, Remy pats Warren's hand. Unintended, words slip from his lips. "You'll always be my ange?"
"Oh, Remy!" Warren yelps helplessly. "I'm no saint! Soon, you'll remember what happened between us. We haven't been friends in the past!" Suddenly, he fears Remy's reaction when those memories will surface. //Hopefully I will already have left New Orleans by that time!//
Remy presses his hand harder against the wound, realizing the truth. "You're leavin'," he whispers with certainty.
"Yes," Warren confirms, but can't deny the ache that's starting in his heart. "In a few days. Jean-Luc will take care of you."
"My ange is desertin' me," Remy mumbles depressed. "Guess I 'ready took up too much of your time." The world he built around him is collapsing. He can deal with the fact that Warren is a mutant and no real angel, but? "Can' you stay a little longer?" He doesn't want Warren to leave yet. Except for Jean-Luc he's the only person he trusts.
"This is for the best," Warren says steadfast. Once Remy remembers that they greatly dislike each other their new friendship will go to hell. //And when he remembers me letting him down at the trial I better not be here.//
Quickly, Remy wipes away the solitary tear that escaped his eyes. He hoped he had made a new friend, someone he could trust, but now he feels like falling from a great height and no one is there to catch him. "I understand," he whispers softly. "Merci for takin' care of me."
"Remy?" Terribly confused, Warren feels torn between running away from the Cajun and gathering him in his arms to comfort him. But something keeps him back. He can't reach out and soothe Remy.
"Please leave me 'lone?" Remy requests softly. The pain moving through him is something he has to deal with alone.
"If that's what you want," Warren rises from the chair and gently places Remy's hand on the blanket. //I really am a bastard, fucking up again and again!// He's angry with himself, but clueless on how to remedy this situation.
"I'm sure Jean-Luc will be back in a few moments." Slouching slightly, he makes his way over to the doorway, casting one last glance at Remy.
The young Cajun looks lost and helpless, curled into a tight ball and Warren flees the room in dread.
Remy still feels Warren's icy fingers on his skin, wishing his angel will come back to hold him again. He feels safe in Warren's arms, but he'll never experience that safety again. Warren will leave in a few days and he will probably never see his angel again.
"Just want somebody to love?" he whispers softly and keeps back his tears. "Mais you don' want me to love you." His heart aches and he closes his eyes, shutting himself off from the outside world.

 

Chapter Twelve

No way out of here

There ain't no way outta here
I try to scream, I can't even speak
Why am I the only one
I can't get out and I can't go on
There ain't no way out of here
Forever red and I'm never free
Climb the wall, I can't hold on
I can't go back and I can't go on

Blackie Lawless

"Remy? Worthington?" Jean-Luc steps into Remy's room and halts in his tracks. The bed's empty and the chair next to it unoccupied. "Merde! Where are you, Worthington? Told you not to leave him alone!"
A sound coming from the bathroom alerts him. "Remy? Is dat you?" He prays his son didn't do anything foolishly. "Remy? Answer me!"
Feeling caught, Remy's head whips back and he resorts to the lamest excuse he can think of this quickly. "I'm only peeing, poppa!" he exclaims in his most embarrassed tone, but quickly grabs the towel to wipe away his tears. Sitting on the floor of the bathroom the wall feels cold against his back. //Please let him come 'side and hold me?// he thinks longingly, but is afraid to speak the words.
They aren't necessary. Jean-Luc LeBeau knows his son and without hesitation he walks into the bathroom. "Don't lie to me, Remy," he chides him and kneels next to his son. "What are you doing? You should be in bed." Remy's eyes are still filled with tears and as they roll down the young man's cheek, Jean-Luc catches them with his fingertips.
"Why?" Remy whispers in a dazed tone, "Why is he leavin'?"
"Your angel, non?" Jean-Luc sighs deeply and pushes his arms underneath Remy's knees and shoulders. As he lifts his son, he ponders Remy's question. "Your friend needs time. He's confused too, mebbe even scared."
Remy rests his head against his poppa's chest. "Sorry I left my bed, mais? I didn' want anyone walkin' in on me."
"I know dat," Jean-Luc assures him. "You always try to hide. Dere's no shame in crying. I told you dat a long time ago." He lays his son down in bed and sits down on the side, still holding Remy. "You can cry in my arms like you used to, petite."
Remy finally calms down a little, soothed by his father's persistent stroking of his back. "Je t'aime, poppa," he whispers softly.
"Je t'aime, mon fils," Jean-Luc replies in a similar tone and manner. "What are we going to do next?" He wants Remy to make the decisions. Remy needs to be in control.
As his son doesn't answer, he says, "Remy, I talked to de doctors, who treated you in Houston. Dey strongly advice you finally start taking your meds on a regular basis. Dey also advised me against telling you everything. You need time and when you're ready your memory will return. You've got to be patient?"
Remy smiles, as he snuggles up to Jean-Luc. "Will you stay wid me? Now dat Warren is leavin' I need you?"
"I will always be here for you, my son," Jean-Luc promises passionately and places a kiss on Remy's auburn hair. "I brought de meds? you're going to take dem now."
"Must I?" Remy objects, remembering feeling indifferent when under influence of the sedative.
"Oui." Jean-Luc gets out the packages and rests his son's body in the pillows. "Let me get you something to drink." He fills the glass he brought along and offers Remy the water. "Take dem!"
Remy briefly considers protesting, but knows that's futile. Jean-Luc won't give in until he swallowed those meds. Reluctantly, he places the pills on his tongue and drinks the water.
"Open your mouth," Jean-Luc orders. "No tricks."
With obvious reluctance Remy obeys and shows him that he did swallow the meds.
"Now, where's your friend? He would sit with you in my absence." Jean-Luc pulls up a chair and makes himself comfortable.
"I asked him to leave me 'lone," Remy says softly.
"But you really wanted him to stay, non?" Jean-Luc nods his head. "Don't fall in love with him, Remy." He makes sure no judgement sounds in his voice, just concern.
"I can' help it, poppa," Remy confesses in shaky tone. As he lifts his eyes to meet his father's he sees the love in them and fervently hopes that maybe one day Warren's eyes will shine like that too. Right now they are dark and desolate, mirroring an inner struggle. "I t'ink I fell in love wid him when I saved him from de sniper."
"Oh Remy," Jean-Luc sighs in compassion. "Wish you would finally meet someone who can love you just de way you are."
"How can dey?" Remy's tone grows dark. "When I can' love myself?"
"Remy, Remy, Remy," he continues to whisper the name, cautiously rocking his son. He worked so hard all these years to build Remy's confidence and self-esteem to acceptable levels and now the amnesia ruined his efforts. They have to start all over again!
"Don't hate yourself, petite. De Antiquary hurt you because he's plain evil. Your charm didn't make him abusive. I'll tell you dis as many times as you need to hear it, my son."
"Poppa?" Remy whispers into Jean-Luc's shirt, unwilling to raise his face. "De charm's gone."
"It will return once de bracelets have been removed," he says soothingly, never expecting Remy's fierce reaction.
"Don' want dem removed!" Remy sobs.
"Why?"
"For de first time in my life I know what I'm feelin', not gettin' an echo of other people's feelings? and I'm not influencin' deir feelings 'bout me eider. Dis feels honest, poppa. Please? I don' want it back."
"Remy, you don't need to be afraid of your charm power. No matter what de Antiquary told you, it's NOT a sexual power. You can't seduce people and dey don't want to rape you on sight. Dis is in your head, petite."
Remy remains quiet, listening to Jean-Luc's heartbeat. He heard this lecture countless times and knows it by heart.
"It's because you still act and think like a victim, petite and de predators out dere pick up on it. You've got to stop feeling powerless, my son," Jean-Luc says determinedly. "And like before, I will be here for you."

Restlessly, Warren paces his room. Everything Jean-Luc told him tears mercilessly at his soul. The pain, the sadness, the loneliness? were there all along in Remy's eyes, but he refused to see it, like most of the X-Men did.
He just called Logan on the phone, giving him directions and Jean-Luc's address. Logan grunted his impatience, but seemed willing to do this for him, something that still surprises him. Maybe Logan figured out this is important?
Sinking down on his bed he looks at his hand, which caressed Remy's fingers only moments ago. He should leave this place as quickly as possible. Maybe he won't even wait for Logan to arrive. Knowing that Remy is this close and yet out of reach drives him mad.
"Can't be feeling this. I am NOT feeling this! I am NOT in love with a man!" he states feverishly.
//Remember Bobby?//
Damn that irritating voice in the back of his head! He wishes he could shut it down. "Bobby, what about Bobby?"
//Bobby's gay.//
"I fucking know that!" he explodes, "So what!"
//You told him it was all right to be gay or bi, remember?//
"That's different!" he maintains enraged. "Bobby's been unhappy with dating women his entire life! I LOVE women! Love the way they feel!"
//Then why don't your relationships work out?//
"Why don't you just shut up?" he questions in turn and kicks a pillow over the floor. "I'm not having a conversation with myself!"
//That's it. Just deny the truth like you always do. Run away from Remy and your feelings? you always do.//
"Okay, that's it! I'm certified crazy! I need to get out of here!" He wants to head for the doorway, but the door suddenly opens. "What do you want? I'm not in the mood for your stories!"
Jean-Luc eyes him suspiciously. Warren's hair is flying madly around his head and his eyes burn with unholy fire. Something is eating this man alive. Tempered, he decides on a different course of action. "Remy told me dat you will be leaving shortly?"
"Yes, tomorrow!" he snarls infuriated, shocked by his own reactions. He needs to get his emotions back under control before he does something stupid. "Don't worry. I will leave New Orleans and won't come back!"
Remembering Remy's pain Jean-Luc refuses to give in yet. "Remy needs you."
"He doesn't!" Warren sneers. "He only needs you!" He grabs the phone and starts dialing a number. Tomorrow, his personal jet will take him far away from New Orleans! Maybe he will give Bets a call, try and get together again.
"You're hurting Remy by leaving in this way," Jean-Luc says bluntly. Warren puzzles him. Why is there this immense anger and rage in his eyes? It wasn't there when they talked about Remy earlier.
That halts Warren in his tracks and the phone drops onto the bed. "I don't want him to hurt," he says honestly. "But I can't stay!"
"Will you say good-bye to him before you leave?" Jean-Luc studies him and reaches a conclusion. This man is fighting himself.
"Yes, I will," Warren replies on impulse and then regrets his answer. He doesn't want to face Remy again. The pain in those red on black eyes almost made his heart break in two before.
"Wolverine will arrive tomorrow," he informs Jean-Luc. "He can remove the bracelets. I don't know how long he will stay."
Jean-Luc considers telling Warren about Remy's plea not to remove those bracelets, but realizes it won't make a difference. Warren has to confront himself first before he can look at his feelings for Remy.
"How is he doing now?" Warren asks awkwardly and picks up his phone again.
"Asleep. He finally agreed to taking his meds."
"That's good?" Warren whispers absentmindedly. "He will get better. Remy will heal."
Again, Jean-Luc holds his tongue.
"Tell me when Remy wakes again?" Warren requests. "I will say my good-byes then."
"You have no idea what you're throwing away, monsieur Worthington," Jean-Luc states in a formal tone. "And once you realize dat, it will be too late." After having said that he closes the door behind him and hurries back to his son's room.

Snuggled up to his pillows Remy's dreams change. A moment ago he was surrounded by endless stretches of ice, but now he's soaring through the sky. Strong arms are wrapped around his waist, pressing him into the body on top of him.
Beautiful white wings take him higher and he smiles gloriously. His angel is taking him higher and higher and not leaving him as he had said he would. "Je t'aime," he whispers into the soft feathers and curls his fingers around his angel's.
Warren's warm laugh cascades through the air. "Crazy Cajun."
His lover's tone is filled with love and affection and lips shower him with kisses pressed at the back of his neck. As he looks down at the Earth below, he whispers, "Don' leave me, Warren."
"How could I ever leave you?" Warren replies as his strong wings take them higher towards the stars.
Remy's eyes fill with tears. "You can? you will," he whispers waking up. As the dream fades from memory, another image flashes in his head. His pupils dilate, wondering where he's now.
He's awake and this scene scares the hell out of him. These tunnels seem endless and shadows are hiding in the passageways. Voices mutter around him and eyes stare at him from the darkness.
Panting hard, he struggles to sit upright. This isn't a dream. This isn't a fantasy. He's remembering his past and it's filled with pain and betrayal.
//Why did you do this to us?// Hundreds of voices slam their claws into his mind. //You brought them here!//
"Please? no more!" he pants in panic. But the voices grow in intensity and suddenly a red diamond sparkles from the darkness. "Non!" he exclaims frantically. "Non, I didn' know!"
Jean-Luc storms into the room, alarmed by Remy's yelps. He only left briefly to make arrangements for Wolverine's arrival. "Remy, poppa's here? What scared you?" Within a heartbeat he's next to his son, but not reaching out for him yet. He learned from personal experience that nightmares are VERY real to Remy.
"Tunnels? eyes? voices? and a diamond?" Remy pants and falls back into the pillows. His side hurts and his face contorts. Hopefully, the wound didn't open again. "Please stay, poppa?"
"I will," Jean-Luc strokes his hair out of his face. He's getting tired as well. It's been too many hours since he had some rest and Remy needs him constantly. If only Warren would rise to his responsibility, but the X-Man is running away.
Suddenly Remy notices the beginning dark circles underneath his poppa's eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm keepin' you 'wake."
"Dat doesn't matter, Remy," Jean-Luc assures him. "Move over?dat way I can get some sleep too!" It's been too many years since he last did this. In those first months Remy had slept in his arms as it kept away the nightmares.
After shooting Jean-Luc a wicked grin Remy cautiously makes room for his father. "Feel like your petite fils 'gain," he admits as he moves into the embrace.
"You will always be mon petite fils." Jean-Luc covers both of them with the comforter and hums a melody.
Hearing that humming makes Remy cry softly. In the Antiquary's rooms he was cut off from sound. "Don' stop," he says pleadingly.
"Go to sleep, Remy. I will watch over you. Dey can't hurt you any longer."
"Wishin' my ange were here as well," Remy admits. It's a slip of the tongue, but Jean-Luc probably knows his every feeling. "I miss him?"
For the first time in years Jean-Luc doesn't know what to say. He doesn't want to give Remy false hope, but the way Warren was struggling with himself told him that nothing was decided yet. "I know you do, Remy?"

The next morning Warren wakes from a dreamless sleep. Secretly he hoped that his dreams would be about Bets, but the only thing he remembers are swimming red on black eyes.
"I love Bets?" Warren whispers as he marches into the bathroom. He's going to take a quick shower, have breakfast and then head for his flight. His plane is already standing by to take him to Westchester. But first he's got to face Remy one last time.
As he brushes his teeth, he stares into the mirror and studies himself critically. He's got to shave as well and once he's back at the mansion he wants to work out regularly again. Bets will want him in shape or she won't take him back.
But every time he thinks of Betsy, Remy's eyes appear in the mirror mocking him. At least his conscience's quiet for now.
After he shaved he gets dressed, feeling thankful that Jean-Luc had the courtesy to offer him some clothes. His old ones are stained with blood. Dressed in a black sweater and Denims he leaves his room. Constantly, he keeps an eye on the time, not wanting to be late for his flight. //Only a few more hours and I can forget about Remy.//

"Monsieur Worthington," Jean-Luc greets him coldly. Although he realizes that it takes most people time to accept their sexual preferences, he doesn't feel sympathetic in this case. Probably because it's his son who's paying the prize.
He discovered his own preferences decades ago. //Actually, dey tell me I look pretty good for a man over a hundred.// Before the Antiquary ruined his life he dated women and men, finding them willing and passionate. He used to court his new lover for a while, getting to know him or her before taking them to his bed.
But this changed when he adopted Remy. Suddenly, this scared boy was the centre of his world and he did the best he could to be a father to him. Had he failed or succeeded?
"My plane will leave in two hours." Warren piles the food onto his plate.
"I will arrange for an escort. De assassins are waiting for you to leave de house." Jean-Luc sips from his coffee. "Remy is waiting for you in his room."
"I'll talk to him." Warren sits down and starts eating breakfast. A question burns his lips. "Did he sleep well last night?"
Saddened, Jean-Luc shakes his head. //He does care for Remy, but can't face dat truth yet?// Forcing himself to reply, he says, "I held him during de night. His nightmares took him back to de Morlock tunnels. His memory is coming back."
"The tunnels," Warren whispers lost. His wings tremble underneath the sweater. "Then it won't be long before he remembers Sinister and the Marauders as well."
"Dis Sinister?" Jean-Luc tries to remember what his informants told him, "Does he have a red diamond on his brow?"
Warren shivers. "Yes, that's Sinister all right. Did Remy see the diamond in his dreams?"
Jean-Luc nods his head. "You do realize dat dis Sinister used Remy?"
//I don't want to think about this!// Warren pushes his knife into the bacon and eggs. "Remy led them into the tunnels."
"Did you ask him why?"
"No, he doesn't remember!" Warren exclaims upset.
"But you judged him nonetheless? and you're a lawyer?" Not hiding his loathing, Jean-Luc rises from his seat and stares hard at him. "You really don't deserve dose wings?" With those words he strides out of the room.
"I know that," Warren whispers embittered.

"Remy?" Warren approaches the bed, eager to say his good-byes so he can leave this city. To his surprise Remy's sitting up, huge pillows supporting his back. There's a drowsy expression in the Cajun's eyes, like he's not really awake yet. //Must be the meds.//
"Warren," Remy says softly, feeling a bit more in control now that he's not lying down any longer. He nagged for hours before Jean-Luc helped him to sit up. "Dis is it? You're leavin'?" His words slur and he curses his poppa for making him take those meds.
"Yes, plane is leaving in," he looks at his watch, "45 minutes."
Remy stares at his hands, which rest in his lap, bracelets still suppressing his powers, just like he wants it. Once Warren's friend arrives he will tell the man to leave the bracelets in place. He doesn't want the charm back.
"Wish you well, Warren." There's nothing left to say.
Warren cringes slightly hearing that tone. //And all of a sudden it's Warren and not Ange? what did I do? Am I about to make the biggest mistake of my life?//
"Hope you'll get better soon, Remy," he says sincerely. "Maybe we can meet up one day for dinner?" //Geeze, that sounds stupid!//
"Sure." Remy knows this good-bye is final. "We'll have dinner." But he plays along to make this less painful on both of them. "Stay 'way from de assassins."
"Thanks for saving my life? twice," Warren whispers as he moves over to the door. He will always remember Remy lying in bed like that, still in pain, but struggling so bravely to be strong. "Be seeing you, Cajun."
As the door closes behind Warren, Remy chokes back his tears. He's through with crying. Warren doesn't want him and that's something he has to accept. "Be seein' you, mon ange?"

"He just drove off," Jean-Luc informs his son and sits down on the bed. "Brought you breakfast."
"Not hungry." Stubbornly, Remy pushes the tray away from him. "Tell his friend dat I don' need his help. De bracelets stay on!"
Jean-Luc raises a hand and strokes Remy's auburn hair behind his ears. "Don't give up, petite."
Feeling tired and drugged Remy shrugs his shoulders. "Don' care any longer."
Jean-Luc reacts on impulse and pulls his son into a tight embrace, refusing to let go. "Why is he dis special to you?"
"Don' really know," Remy whispers the words against the back of his father's neck. "Dere's such pain in his eyes and I want him to stop hurtin'."
"Do you know who he is?" Jean-Luc pulls away, determined to address the X-Men.
Torn, Remy tries to answer that question, but the drugs make it hard to keep focused. "You goin' to tell me?"
"Do you remember de X-Men, Remy?" Jean-Luc holds his breath in anticipation.
A wave of pain washes through him. "De X-Men? don' want to talk 'bout dem?" Memories demand to be acknowledged, but he doesn't want them. A woman's face flashes in his mind. Ice? a diamond? the tunnels? and their hate. "Please poppa? don'."
"Mebbe later," Jean-Luc gives in, just in time remembering the doctors' advice. "I won't push you. Want me to put on some music for you? It might make it easier for you to go back to sleep. I got some matters to attend to and?"
"When will tante be back?" Remy asks in a numb tone.
Jean-Luc recognizes the distancing behavior, which is not due to the meds. Remy's slipping away from him. "Mon fils?" he starts, rocking him. //I do hope you'll be happy one day. Your entire life has been misery.//
Remy ignores him, but allows his poppa to continue to rock him. "Don' want to remember," he whispers absentmindedly, not even aware that he's speaking. "Don' want to hurt no more? Don' want to fight?"
At a loss, Jean-Luc holds him, buries Remy's face against his chest and hums softly.

"This better be good," Logan growls as he walks up to the house. Yip, that's the address Warren gave him. As he presses the door chime he wonders what this is all about.
The door opens and Logan takes in the man's bulky appearance. Probably some hired muscle. Suddenly, he has no idea what to say. Why the hell ordered Warren him here anyway?
"Are you monsieur Logan?"
"Yeah, I'm Logan," he says relieved. The man steps to the side and he walks inside. From the corner of his eye he catches the valuable Renoir at the wall. "Care to tell me why I am here?"
"Monsieur LeBeau will join you in a moment. Please wait here?"
"Hold yer horses," Logan whispers baffled. "Did ya say LeBeau?"
"Oui."
The voice takes him by surprise and he quickly spins around. A second man appeared from nowhere. "And ya are?"
"Jean-Luc LeBeau. I'm Remy's father and my son needs your help."
"Yer son? Remy's alive?" Releasing a sigh he sinks down onto a chair. "That Cajun's got more lives than a cat!" A big, dirty grin surfaces on his face. "So Gumbo's alive?"

 

Chapter Thirteen

Keep holding on

Your sad eyes never told me
No paradise here for the lonely
But I hold on, half a heart here in my hands
Been so long, would you know me
Who's holding you, who's gonna hold me
If you want me, then I'll be your man

Blackie Lawless

New Orleans
Both men eye each other suspiciously. Logan has to admit that Jean-Luc LeBeau radiates confidence and authority. This man usually gets what he wants. Quite impressing.
Finding himself in the study of the patriarch of the thieves' Guild was the last thing he expected. Why didn't Warren at least tell him that this is about Remy? Is Warren playing games?
No, he dismisses that idea. Warren will always try and uphold Xavier's teachings and one of them is not to screw with a team-mate's head on purpose. He might not like Worthington but knows he can depend on the man in the heat of a fight.
"Why do ya need my help?" Logan leans back, determined to test the waters first. His instincts tell him not to underestimate Jean-Luc LeBeau. This man is as dangerous as a cobra. It takes cunning and courage to lead the thieves' Guild. //And backbone, considerin' he adopted Gambit.//
"First, I want to ask you some questions." Jean-Luc takes his seat behind his desk, pretending to look through some papers. But he's really taking in Logan's appearance. The mutant's eyes are burning embers, trembling with an animalistic intensity, how intriguing!
Jean-Luc tries to focus on the reports, which informants/spies in Westchester sent him. They gathered quite some interesting information about the X-Men. "Your name is Logan? Wolverine and you possess claws made from adamantium?" he summarizes in a controlled tone. Good thing he started to collect info on the X-Men when Remy joined them. He wants to know whom he's dealing with!
As he looks up from the papers their eyes meet and briefly he feels electrified. Mon Dieu? he only met the man a moment ago and already feels attracted to him! Merde! He can't use this right now. Remy has to come first!
//But it has been so long since I last felt like dis?// The blue eyes tear at his self-control and he summons his iron will power to recompose himself. //Why am I surprised? It's been? 15 years since I took a lover?//
"Inquisitive minds wanna know, huh?" Unnoticed by his host, he locks Jean-Luc's scent away in his memory. //Ya never know when ya need it!//
"Yeah, that's right. I got claws." He doesn't know why but he allows his claws to pop out and loves hearing the small intake of breath coming from Jean-Luc. "It's adamantium aright." Why the hell is he trying to impress the man?
Taking his time, his eyes scan every inch of the Cajun's face and he reaches a conclusion. The dark circles underneath Jean-Luc's eyes indicate that he didn't get much sleep lately and although he's trying hard to hide it, the patriarch is edgy. //Interesting? probably has somethin' to do with the kid.//
Getting back to business, Jean-Luc says, "Warren told me dat Remy's wearing de remainders of Eric De Red's shackles. I'm not sure what dat means." Leaning back, he continues to study his guest. //Canadian. His mutant power is de healin' factor. I'm still not sure what dis Weapon X is, but dey are responsible for his claws.//
Logan whistles softly. He's not very keen on discussing Eric The Red or Antarctica, but that's probably why Jean-Luc wants to talk to him. "Yeah, those shackles block his powers. Lemme guess? ya want me to take them off?"
When he arrived at the mansion after his trip to Japan, he wanted to seek the Cajun out, play cards, smoke a cigar. He walked into the living room, ready to ask Cyke about the Cajun's whereabouts, when they reluctantly told him the truth.
Actually, Rogue did most of the talking. Rogue sobbed her confession. She never wanted to leave him behind, but Remy wanted to die and she had given in.
He doesn't buy that explanation, never did. Although he likes to the girl, he knows better than to trust her. And Joseph held her hand the entire time. No, he didn't buy her explanation or her grief at all! Unexpectedly, Jean-Luc's voice forces him to focus on the shackles once more.
"Dat was de plan, oui," Jean-Luc clasps his hands. "But Remy doesn't want de shackles removed." He's kind of curious to see Logan's reaction. Thus far it seems like he can trust the X-Man, but Remy believed that at one time as well and they betrayed him in the end.
Unintended, his eyes drift down Logan's face, down his muscular chest and come to rest on his claws. //He's dangerous? dat's why I feel attracted to him. Mon Dieu, I always loved to play with wildfire and he might burn me!//
"Huh? Why doesn't he want them off? He can't use his powers while they're on." Puzzled, Logan tries to pick up Remy's scent. Yeah, the young Cajun is close. Why didn't he smell Gambit when he stepped inside the house?
//I can't believe it! The kid's still 'live? wonder what really happened out there on the ice? maybe I will get some answers after all.// He still feels guilty for being in Japan when this happened. //I would never have allowed them to leave the place without the Cajun!//
"Before I tell you?" Jean-Luc is determined not to make another mistake. He trusted Warren to rise to the occasion, but the X-Man hugely disappointed him. "Do you consider Remy a friend?"
Logan answers at once. "Yeah, I do. When they didn't brin' him back from Antarctica I was pissed? big time," Logan states in anger and gets to his feet. He doesn't like this small room. He feels like a caged animal and that makes Jean-Luc his warden.
Thoughtfully, he paces the room, realizing Jean-Luc's intentions. Before the patriarch will allow him close to his son he has to pass this test. "We've all been used before. Remy is too young to realize whom he was dealin' with." Shrugging his shoulders, he continues, "Sinister used him and then disposed of him," he whispers angered.
"I don't know any details." Jean-Luc nods his head. "But answer me dis, did de X-Men betray my son? Did dey leave him dere to die?" He wants this question answered. If they did, they will pay for hurting his son on purpose.
"Not exactly," Logan says thoughtfully, turning around to lock eyes with the Cajun. "I wasn't there, keep that in mind. I only know what they told me."
"I will find out de truth eventually," Jean-Luc says steadfast and gestures him to continue. Although he doesn't want to notice it, he can't look passed the rippling muscle that shows underneath the Canadian's shirt. //Control!// he chides himself. //Don't think of his tight ass!// Infuriated with himself, he regains control over his senses. Logan's here to help his son and he has to keep this on a professional level!
"Eric The Red played all of them and I think Bets would have pulled Remy into the shadows, but? Rogue flew him out of the citadel. When she joined the rest of the team without Remy she told them that he died in the after match of the fight. They had no reason to doubt her words. We never thought that Rogue left him there to die!"
Slowly gaining more understanding of the situation Jean-Luc rubs his brow. "And what's Warren's part in dis?"
"Eric The Red decided Warren should defend Remy." Logan draws in a deep breath. "Hank told me Warren did a great job until Wings found out that Remy gathered the Marauders. You see, they badly injured his wings."
"And Sinister?" Jean-Luc rises from behind the desk, checking if the tape recorder is still on. He wants to evaluate this conversation later, figure out what to do about this.
"Remy never told us that he worked for Sinister." Logan now stands in front of Jean-Luc, close enough to touch and inhale the intoxicating scent of the Cajun's cologne. "Only Remy knows the answer to that question." His senses are heightened and he smells the growing arousal in the air. There's something very primal about this situation and he loves the unexpected magnetism.
"Bien." Satisfied that Logan seems genuinely concerned about his son, he decides to give him a chance. "There are things you need to know before you can see Remy," he states and pours two glasses of Bourbon. He offers Logan one, who accepts with a nod of his head.
As he drowns the drink, Logan notices the approving glance in Jean-Luc's sparkling eyes. //Yeah, this will be an interestin' ride? and I'm not regrettin' drivin' up here!//
//Quite an impressive specimen,// Jean-Luc muses privately as the Bourbon burns his throat.

One hour later, Logan stares out of the window and at the back yard. "He did that?"
Jean-Luc grins. "De craters? Oui, wrecked de garden as well." An oddly comfortable silence sneaks into the room and Jean-Luc enjoys his last bite of dinner. Until now he didn't realize just how hungry he was. "You understand dat you need to be careful around him? Remy probably won't remember you."
"Explain this to me 'gain," Logan says and returns to the dinner table. Jean-Luc told him about the amnesia, the weeks Remy lived on the streets and even hinted at the abuse Gambit suffered before the LeBeau family adopted him. "This charm?"
"He has always been able to feel what others feel? to some extent. Remy never actively used it to manipulate people, but he always wondered which feelings were his and which were an echo. With de shackles in place, he knows de things he's feeling are really his."
"I don't think it's wise to cut them 'way when he doesn't want that." Logan sits down and plays with his dessert, chocolate mousse. "And I can't tell him 'bout the others? Some are really worried, even mournin' his death."
"We can do dat later," Jean-Luc says determinedly. "Are you ready?" He pushes back his chair and moves over to the doorway. "I want to do dis now before he tries anything on me."
Logan wriggles an eyebrow. "Ya don't trust him, huh?"
"I trust Remy to look out for himself. He will do what he thinks is best for him." Jean-Luc falls into step next to his guest and notices Logan's strong masculine scent. This sudden rush of lust surprises him and he wonders if Logan feels it as well. The Canadian's grin is too damn smug!

"Remy? I brought a friend?" Jean-Luc announces and opens the door without knocking.
Logan immediately searches the room. Although he knows what to expect, seeing Remy shocks him. "Shit," he mumbles barely audible. The young Cajun has been reduced to a mere shadow of his former self. Red on black eyes lift, but seem to look right through him, not acknowledging his presence.
//Damn! Now I really wanna know what happened after Hank and the others left. Rogue's been lyin', why?//
"You can go 'way 'gain, monsieur," Remy whispers, "Don' require your help." He hides his hands underneath the covers. "As I told poppa, dey stay on."
"Stubborn as always," Logan remarks and approaches the bed.
Jean-Luc remains in the doorway. He wants Remy and Logan to interact without him guiding the conversation. Hopefully this will sparkle Remy's memory. His eyes drift off and he notices that the food on the tray hasn't been touched. After Warren left, Remy stopped eating. NOT a good sign!
"Bub? remember me?" Logan sits down on the side of the bed. The hooded expression in Remy's eyes worries him. Yeah, Jean-Luc told him about the meds, but this feels like Remy's body's here, but no one's home. "Gumbo?"
The voice sounds familiar, but he doesn't want to leave this dark void. Here, he doesn't have to think, speak or act bravely for his poppa. Here, he can switch off and let go.
"Hey Cajun! Didn't come here to get the cold shoulder treatment!" Logan states loudly, hoping that the sound of his voice will snap Remy out of it. It doesn't really matter what he says as Remy isn't listening anyway, but he's got to keep talking. "Looks like ya used up all yer nine lives, kid."
But the voice awakens something inside him and it flashes into life. //Kid? Gumbo?.bub? sounds like? sounds like?// The man's name is on the tip of his tongue but?
"Look at me, kid," Logan cups Remy's chin in his hand and forces him to lock eyes. "Don't tell me ya forgot these baby blues!"
Remy's eyes grow big at the sight of the man in front of him. The man is smiling at him, no, make that grinning and waiting for a response.
"Wanna play cards, Remy? But I'm not gonna play for money! I would end up broke!"
"Cigars?" Remy whispers and cocks his head. "I know you?" but the damn meds make it hard to think rationally. He's got to struggle to form a coherent thought. "Please poppa? no more meds," he whimpers eventually. Just saying those words drain him.
"Mebbe de dose is a little too high, oui?" Jean-Luc suggests. "We'll see. I'll call de hospital."
"Merci, poppa," Remy says relieved and grows quiet again. Unexpectedly one word echoes through the room. "Bike?"
"Bike?" Logan grins broadly. "Yeah, that's me. Cigars, bike and?"
"Claws?" Remy ends the sentence for him and shivers. "HE has claws too." Through the darkness of the tunnels sounds a vicious growl. "Sab?"
"Don't go there, kid. Not yet." Logan eyes him carefully. He has holes in his memory too and knows how hard this is on Remy. "Concentrate on me, kid. Who am I?"
Slowly, a veil seems to lift from his mind. It only lasts seconds, but it's enough. "Logan?"
"Yeah, ya did good, Remy!" Logan says pleased. "Hey, I'm over here!" Remy's glance grows hooded again and he addresses Jean-Luc. "Ya better stop feedin' him those meds. They screw with his head."
Jean-Luc has to agree. He expected a different result? not this! "Remy will just take de sleeping meds den."
Approvingly, Logan nods his head. "Much better."
"Logan," Remy repeats the name again. "Wolvie?"
"Now, I told you not to call me that!" Logan smiles reassuringly. "Lemme me have a look at yer wrists, Remy."
"You want to take dem off," Remy whispers in sudden dread. "Don'."
"No, just wanna have a look at the shackles, that's it." Logan tries hard to soothe him. The Cajun looks terribly frail and lost. "I will only take them off if you want me to."
Reluctantly, Remy sneaks his hands on top of the cover. He's still not sure why he knows Logan or why he feels like he can trust the man, but he does. "You're a mutant," he whispers suddenly.
"Yeah, like ya are." Logan lifts the bandaged wrist and gently examines the shackles. "I can cut through them, no problem," he informs Jean-Luc.
"Remy," Jean-Luc joins them, "do you want Logan to remove dem?" In his heart he hopes that Remy will pull through and will say yes.
"Non." His stare is empty as he looks at the two men. For the first time in his life he knows what he's feeling. He doesn't want their feelings screwing with his head. "Don' want my powers."
Jean-Luc is about to try one more time, when Logan shakes his head. "Give him time, LeBeau." He remembers waking up with those claws, not knowing how he got them and wishing they would go away.
"Bien," Jean-Luc sighs the word, feeling that his son is making a mistake, but backing him up anyway.
Pleased, Logan allows his fingers to trail Remy's. "You once broke your thumb." He feels the little knot underneath the Cajun's skin.
"When Remy was training to become a thief he had to break into my house and bypass de security system? He broke his thumb in de process," Jean-Luc explains fondly.
"Mais I passed de test," Remy states unexpectedly, surprising both men.
"Oui, you did," Jean-Luc confirms. "And my security system is de best."
Remy smiles as well, but his growing fatigue makes it even harder to speak. "Sleepy," he whispers eventually as his eyelids close.
"Get some sleep, kid. We'll talk later," Logan says and awkwardly pats the young Cajun's shoulder. "Who's gonna sit with him?" he asks, shooting Jean-Luc a knowing look. "We can't leave him 'lone."
"I need to take care of Guild matters," Jean-Luc says in a heavy tone. "I will relieve you in? let's say 6 hours?"
"Fine with me." Logan sinks onto the armchair and rests his feet on the side of the bed.
//Merci.// Jean-Luc is greatly relieved to learn that Logan isn't shying away from pulling his weight. If only the Guild didn't demand so much of his time and attention! But it's always been this way. Even before Remy came into his life, the Guild came first and ashamed he has to admit that it still comes first.
//Remy should be my prime concern! Not de Guild! Dat's been de problem all along.// And for the first time in his long life, he thinks about stepping down as patriarch.

Westchester
As the plane approaches the private airstrip near Westchester, Warren softly bangs his fist against his seat. He can't get that lost look in Remy's eyes out of his mind. Again, he convinces himself that this is for their best. "I don't love him," he whispers beaten. "I love Bets and I'm going to call her the moment we're at the mansion."
The plane touches down and from his window seat he notices the car. So Bobby really did drive up here? That doesn't surprise him. Bobby's has always been there for him. They share a close friendship, although he doesn't understand why Drake likes to hang out with him. They don't have that much in common?
As the door opens, he slowly descends the stairs. Bobby is waving at him, a huge smile on his face. Warren forces himself to return that smile. He doesn't want Bobby to realize that something is wrong.
But Bobby already has. Dark circles disfigure Warren's eyes and his elegant stride is gone. Warren slouches and Bobby quickly walks towards his friend. It's obvious that something is very wrong and he's thankful that Warren gave him a call instead of just bottling everything up inside. He shivers, remembering the attacks of anger and rage that sometimes appear without any apparent reason.
"Bobby," Warren starts and extends his head.
"Warren, buddy!" Bobby can't help himself, but pulls his friend into an embrace. "What?" he asks as Warren flinches.
"Got shot in the back a few days ago," he explains. "It's still healing."
"What happened?" Bobby grabs the brief case Warren's carrying and throws it onto the back seat. "Get into the car? Scott and Jean told me to hurry so we're still on time for dinner."
Warren slides onto his seat and rests his head against the support. Hearing Bobby's voice reassures him. He's back in Westchester and Remy's still in New Orleans. But the Cajun keeps haunting his thoughts.
"You gonna stay for a while?" Bobby inquires softly. He knows better than to push Warren. "Betsy called as well. She will arrive tomorrow." Bobby peeks at his friend's face. No reaction. "You still together?"
"I want to get back with her," Warren says eventually. "I still love her."
"Knew there was a reason why you're looking like this."
"Like what?" Warren cocks his head. "Like what, Bobby?"
"Like shit," he says apologetically. "How did you get shot?" Quickly, he changes the subject, realizing he's treading on thin ice.
"It's a long story, Bobby and I'm tired? Maybe later?" he avoids answering the question. Explaining about the sniper attack means bringing up Remy.
"Jean and I cleaned up your old room yesterday. You wouldn't believe how much dust accumulates in a few months!" He's trying hard not to touch any topics that might upset Warren. Geeze, he's never seen Warren look this bad! And it's not only his physical appearance. There's a lost expression in his eyes.
Uncertain why, Warren asks, "How's Rogue?" he can't help but wonder about her motives to tell them that Remy died.
"Joseph and Rogue appear happy. She even asked the professor if they could move into the boathouse to have some privacy. Hey, I can understand that. Joseph can touch her and they will want to get more intimate."
As they pick up speed Warren stares out of the window. "Bobby, do you ever wonder what happened to Gambit?"
He never expected that one! Nervously, he licks his lips. "He's dead, Warren."
"Does Rogue mourn his death?" Damn! Why is he talking about the Cajun? He left New Orleans to get away from him!
A pensive look appears in Bobby's eyes. "Not really?" Now that he's thinking about it, he finds that odd. "She said that she wanted to end their relationship anyway."
"Who's at the mansion?" Warren asks, hoping the place isn't crowded.
"Scott and Jean of course. The professor and Hank are on Muir Island to help Moira with some research? We'll have to organize a Twinkie run, Warren. I need a new supply."
"Rogue and Joseph?" An unhealthy anger is building in the pit of his stomach.
"They're in the boathouse so they aren't around much. Only for breakfast and dinner. And Storm's around too." Bobby wonders about this sudden interest in Rogue. "Logan took off without any explanation. Don't know when he will be back."
"And what about you, Bobby?" Warren smiles at his friend. "Got a boyfriend yet?" Bobby actually blushes and he shakes his head in disbelief. "You would tell me, wouldn't you? Your best friend?"
Bobby decides to play along. "Actually, Hank's my best friend! You're away all the time!"
"But I can get you Twinkies!" Warren baits him.
"Warren," Bobby says shyly. It took him so long to come to terms with this that he still has trouble talking about it. "Maybe," he states teasingly. "I saw him while I was getting groceries. He's tall, has black hair and cat-like green eyes. I think I am in love!"
"Ah, that's why you want to get Twinkies? you're hoping to meet him again!" It's the strangest thing, but Bobby being gay never bothered him. It's part of Drake's personality and he accepts his friend the way he is.
//Why can't you do the same when it comes down to YOUR feelings?// His conscience breaks its silence.
Annoyed, Warren turns on the music, which earns him a questioning look from Bobby. //Because I am NOT bi!// he states determinedly. //I only like women!//
"I know a nice little restaurant if you want to take Betsy out for dinner." Bobby isn't sure what to make of his friend's behavior. The changes in Warren's mood are too sudden and unpredictable.
"Sure, give me the address." Warren tries to sound calm and in control, but inwardly his emotions rage to new heights.
As they drive up to the mansion, Scott and Jean are already waiting for him. Somehow, he suddenly feels out of place, like he shouldn't be here, doesn't deserve to be here. Maybe, coming here was wrong.

 

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