Title: Heaven sent 7

Author: Morgana (morganalebeau@yahoo.com)

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

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Heaven sent

By Morgana

 

Chapter Twenty-Six

Westchester
"What the hell is this?" Scott carefully uncovers the letter and the attached file. It looks old, even tattered around the edges. Flipping the papers over his eyes grow big. "A death certificate?" What's he supposed to do with that? His interest increases as he reads the name of the city where the death occurred, New Orleans? Isn't that where Remy was born?
Nervously, he looks at the letter. It just has a few written words on it.
'Thought you should know this.'
That's it. The note doesn't even have a name on it. "Know what? What am I supposed to know?" he whispers aloud. Suddenly, he realizes that his heart is pounding madly. Why is he this nervous?
"Okay, let's have a look at this," he says uncomfortably. Something about this is unsettling. The next name he reads on the death certificate paralyses him. "Remy? The baby was named Remy?" Instinctively, he knows that this is about Gambit.
He stopped believing in coincidence a long time ago. Someone sent this on purpose! "Can this be his death certificate?" His hands shake, though he isn't sure why. Then his eyes scan lower. "The child died 5 minutes after birth. His eyes were red on black," he reads aloud. Darn, what the fuck is going on?
Next, he locates the name of the doctor who signed this certificate. "Nathaniel Essex?" he hisses the name in loathing. "Sinister delivered the baby and then declared him dead?"
Something twists in his chest and stunned, he realizes it's his heart. "Why would he want everyone to believe that the baby died??" he mumbles softly and then groans. "Of course, Sinister wanted him for his own experiments!"
But this still doesn't make any sense. Six months ago, Remy was still very much alive! "He must have planned on abducting the baby, telling the parents the boy died! Something upset Sinister's plans."
The diabolical scheme angers him, makes him furious. Those poor grieving parents! No wonder Remy never knew his parents! He read the Cajun's file after Gambit joined the team. It's standard procedure. They all went through some traumatic events and he can't take the risk of anyone freaking out because they're confronted with their worst fears. There were a couple of times that they helped Ororo when they get stuck in small spaces. Knowing someone is claustrophobic is important!
"And why sent it to me?" he wonders mystified. Unable to resist temptation, he peeks at the names of Remy's parents. Maybe, he can notify them, tell them they had a good man for a son and offer them some consolation ? a lifetime too late, but maybe it will help.
"Katherine-Ann Sum?" his voice falters. The certificate drops onto the floor and his breathing stops briefly. That's his mother's name? what is her name doing on this certificate?
"God?" he whispers upset and picks up the piece of paper again. Afraid to find out the truth he looks at the name of the father. "Christopher?" Again, his voice trails off. "Can't be happening. Someone is trying to mess with my mind! Like I don't feel guilty enough for failing him!"
Why? Why do this? Why abuse a dead man's name? Remy's dead and can't speak up. "Oh, my God, oh, my God," it's all he can master. Fighting his anger-- or is it pain?--, he starts pacing the room. This has to be a lie! This can't be true! If this is true it makes Remy? "My younger brother?"
//Scott?//
The professor and Jean's concern wash into his mind. "Not now! I want a moment alone!"
But they're already approaching, their thoughts growing closer and stronger. Why can't they leave him alone for just a moment? Acting on impulse, he grabs his jacket and climbs out of the window, down the tree and then runs, mentally telling his mentor and his wife not to come after him.
//We'll be here when you are ready to talk,// the professor sends after his fleeing student. Confused, he looks up at Jean. "I don't know Scott like this."
Jean nods her head and opens the door to their rooms. "Something upset him." The first thing that draws her attention is the file and the attached note. "This arrived yesterday," she remembers, seeing the envelop on the floor. She's concerned for her husband and can't look away, so she scans the contents. //Sir!// she exclaims shocked and hands him the papers.
Apprehensively, he reads through it. "What?" he whispers confused. This is certainly unexpected. "Corsair is Remy's father?"
"According to this certificate, yes." Jean nods her head. "Sir, do you think someone is trying to manipulate him?" Stunned, she stares at the names. "Can this be true?" Oh, she understands why Scott ran, why he needs to think. "Remy? His younger brother?"
"Did you see this name?" Charles points out Essex's name.
Curiously, she leans in closer. "No, I didn't," she says breathlessly. "But, it would make perfect sense, wouldn't it? Sinister trying to get his hands on a Summers?"
"Oh yes, it does," Charles admits in a heartbeat. "We need to find out the truth."
"A DNA check?" Jean proposes. "Hank should have a sample from Scott stored away and I am sure we can find something, like a hair in Remy's room. It would reveal the truth."
"Do it," Charles orders, but gently takes hold of her hand before she can leave the room. "Jean?" He feels hope, sadness and regrets mingling in her mind.
"I?" She takes a deep breath. "If this is true, Scott will never forgive himself. Failing a team-mate is inexcusable in his eyes, but failing his younger brother? It would drive him over the edge. He's lost so many people he cared for." She brushes some locks behind her ears.
"I don't know, sir, don't know what to hope for. I don't know if I want the DNA test to come back positive. Scott would resent himself for not having known earlier. If only Remy were still alive, still with us!"
"I'm so sorry," Charles whispers and reassuringly, he squeezes her hand. "I will try to talk to him, be there for Scott, regardless if this is true or a lie. He needs to talk about Antarctica."
"You're right, sir," Jean mumbles absentmindedly and hurries out of the room to seek out Hank in the med lab.
Scott slows down when he arrives at the lake and sinks onto the ground. In a few seconds his whole world has been turned upside down. My God, what if it's true? Why would anyone falsify a death certificate? Come to think of it, why would anyone take the time to create a death certificate?
Damn, his gut instinct is telling him this is the real thing. This is a genuine certificate and he left it in his room! He wants to hold it in his hands, wants to stare at all those names. His parents, his nemesis, and the name of a younger brother he never knew existed! Remy? Gambit? is the Cajun his younger brother?
It would make his failure oh so more shattering. "If he's my brother, I? oh, fuck!" he screwed up big time!
"It's just a sick joke!" he screams into the evening sky. He isn't sure he can bear it being the truth?

Moscow
"Where are we?" Logan tries to stop his body from spinning. Gravity is gone and it takes all his cunning and expertise to steer his body in the right direction to hook up with Jean-Luc. "Got ya, Cajun," he growls low in his throat. "We acted like some stupid beginners!"
"I told you he's dangerous," Jean-Luc says softly, trying to keep the contents of his stomach inside. This spinning is making him nauseous! "We should have been more careful!"
"Ya wanted to talk to him. If ya had me let do this my way I would have gutted him! But no! Ya needed to talk and then ya fly off the handle!"
Logan sounds seriously pissed and Jean-Luc can't blame him. "Any idea where we are, mon ami?"
"Damn, feels like we fell through a portal and are now floating between dimensions? ya never told me he's this strong!" Logan tries to find some point of recognition, but there's only the void, grey and empty. "We're in serious trouble, Cajun!"
"We need to find de right door home," Jean-Luc mumbles absentmindedly. Something Stephen Strange once told him bounces back into his mind. "De right door, window..."
"Do ya see a fuckin' door?" Logan grumbles frustrated. He hates being stuck like this!
"Mebbe I can?" Jean-Luc's voice drifts off. "What's dat?" An angry red light is pushing the void away.
"I don't like that," Logan admits cautiously, but can't deny that the red light is gaining on them. "I want to get away from it."
"We should stay put," Jean-Luc decides. "Dis doesn't feel? evil?"
"Feel? Now ya start to sound like some of my team-mates!" Inwardly debating the matter, he realizes that he doesn't really have a choice. The red light is reaching out for them, curling around their bodies, pulling them away from the grey void.
"Shit," Logan whispers, feeling strangely vulnerable. He tries resisting the pull, but it won't release him.
"You better not fight this," Jean-Luc advises him, trying to figure out their next move. "Let's see where dis light will take us."
They drift a few moments longer and suddenly the gravity is back, dropping them hard on the pavement.
"Pavement?" Jean-Luc says quietly. "Got any idea where we are?"
Logan quickly scans his surroundings. "Nope, doesn't look familiar." The sun is setting behind a dark, ominous mansion. Cocking his head, he tries to read the name carved into the stone gate. "Fire Lake?"
"Doesn't ring a bell," Jean-Luc replies frustrated. "But something, someone wants us here. We better try and talk to the owner."
"Ya sure?" Logan looks doubtfully. "I'm gettin' a lot of bad vibes," he comments, unable to label his discomfort. Maybe it's the smell of sulphur in the air and the hairs on the back of his neck rise alarmingly.
Jean-Luc beckons him to start walking. "For what's worth, mon ami. I'm glad you're here."
Logan nods his head. He feels a lot better as well, knowing that Jean-Luc isn't stuck here on his own. "Why are we here? Is it the Antiquary's work?"
"It's possible," Jean-Luc admits as his hand comes to rest on the doorbell. "You ready? We don't know what to expect."
"Until now no one attacked us? might be a good sign," Logan says hopefully. "Do ya also smell the sulphur?"
Jean-Luc looks up questioningly. "Sulphur? Non."
Ringing the doorbell, they wait, tense and ready to defend themselves. A moment later the door opens and reveals?
"What the hell?" Logan stutters in mild shock. The? creature opposite them looks like a gargoyle, brown-orange coloured skin, wings and the most probing eyes he has ever seen.
"He's expecting you," the creature says and gestures them to step inside.
Jean-Luc and Logan exchange a look, uncertain if they should accept the invitation.
"I'm Isaac," the gargoyle says softly and gives them a smile filled with inexplicable regret.
"Isaac?" Jean-Luc decides to take the initiative. "Where are we? And who are you? Who's he?"
Isaac's smile grows even deeper in silent understanding. It's only logical that these humans have no idea what happened to them. But it's not his task to tell them. His master will. "This place is called Fire Lake. He will tell you everything you need to know. Please follow me into the study."
"At least he's got manners," Logan grows softly.
Isaac grins. "He will join you in a moment. Please make yourself comfortable. Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Tea?"
"Beer would be nice." Logan feels tense in these unfamiliar surroundings. He figured out by now that Isaac won't supply them with more information on him, whoever this person is.
"Coffee," Jean-Luc corrects. "We both want coffee, no beer!"
Logan shakes his head in disapproval and explores the study a little. The desk is empty, no files and no paperwork. "I still don't like this."
"You've got great instincts for a human," a smooth voice whispers from behind.
Logan and Jean-Luc spin around, wondering how it is possible that the man approached without them noticing it.
"For a human?" Jean-Luc asks curiously, as he takes in the man's appearance. The long red hair almost reaches the man's hips. He's at least 6 foot 7, not too muscular built, but the stranger moves with a startling grace. He's wearing a long dark coat, jeans and leather boots. Jean-Luc freezes as he catches sight of the man's eyes. They are red?
Logan reacts to a possible threat and unsheathes his claws. "Who are ya, bub?" he says, demanding an answer.
The man walks over to the desk and sits down, eyes intensely locked on his guests. It doesn't surprise him that they don't know him. Yes, there were times that he worked with the X-Men, with Hank to be exact, but he never met Wolverine.
"I brought you here because we need to talk," he says amused as Logan flaunts his claws, trying to sneak closer. "I would advice against that."
"Logan, don't." Jean-Luc places a hand on his lover's arm, holding him back. "Your name," he states determined.
"As you wish," he says, nodding his head. "I'm Daimon Hellstorm."

Ireland
Worried, Warren looks over from the wolf to Remy, who's sitting on the couch. He doesn't like the entranced look in his lover's eyes. Remy's been like this since they left the lake. //Can't possibly understand what he's going through. He's been afraid of his power for so long and now? I need to handle this carefully.//
"Rem? Want to help me with treating the wolf's injury?" He still feels a little insecure about the wolf, wondering if it will attack him, but Remy doesn't even appear to hear his words. Luckily, the canine accepts his help and Warren carefully bandages the wolf's injured paw. He then places a bowl of water in front of the canine, which seems to be incredibly thirsty. It's his third bowl of water. Poor animal must have been dehydrated.
"Want can we feed him? I don't have any dog food." His concern is increasing. No matter what he says or does, Remy doesn't react at all. This calls for more drastic measures.
"Rem?" he says as he stands in front of his love. "Can you hear me?" The Cajun seems lost, lost in his mind, in his newly discovered abilities and Warren realizes he needs to pull his love out of this trance.
Sitting down on the coffee table, he takes hold of Remy's hands and rubs them. "Remy? Please talk to me," he says in a firm tone. "You're scaring me here, love."
Remy isn't sure what reaches his mind first, the voice or the touch, but he manages to focus on his lover's blue eyes. "Cher?" Warren asked him something, but what was it?
"What's wrong?"
"I keep feelin' you, cher? in my mind? It scares me," he finally admits.
"How do I feel?" Warren asks with a smile on his face. This will turn out right. He won't let this overwhelm Remy. "Tell me, love."
"You feel? warm, light? your t'oughts? it's like I'm puttin' a puzzle togeder and I am still missin' some pieces," Remy tries to explain. He feels awkward, suddenly confronted with a power he always possessed but never allowed free.
"You do realize what this means, Rem?" Warren warms Remy's cold hands in his.
"He lied?" Remy whispers brokenly. "Or do you??"
"No, I don't feel the need to jump you, love. The Antiquary lied."
Hearing those words feels liberating, but how to deal with this? How to deal with the fear he lived with his whole life? Never letting down his defences, --except for consoling tante, -- too scared he would end up hurt. Then, out of nowhere, he remembers Warren's question. "We got some steak?"
"Yeah," Warren smiles. "I planned on it being our dinner tomorrow eve though." Remy gives him a pleading look. "Yeah, I know he needs it more. Why don't you give me a hand?" He wants to keep Remy from brooding, keep him busy. Once they've taken care of the wolf, they will talk.
"Sure," Remy says and follows Warren into the kitchen, but halfway, he gets distracted by the wolf's eyes. "Mon ami? what happened to you?" He knows the wolf feels safe now, the reassurance echoes in his mind. The canine knows he's safe through this? link that is forming.
The wolf raises his head, licks Remy's hand and then collapses into himself due to fatigue.
"Here." Warren hands him the plate with precious steak. "He better eat it."
Remy presents it to the wolf, whose eyes flash. He looks up as if he's distrustful of the gesture, but as it remains poised in front of him, he hesitantly eats it.
"Someone hurt him," Remy says softly. "I see faces in his mind. A man and a small boy."
"Maybe they liked the way he looked when he was only a pup and later, when he started to grow and act like a wolf, they abandoned him?" Warren suggests thoughtfully. "People sometimes want exotic or dangerous animals as pets and when they grow older, they leave them behind because they can't cope with the animal."
"It's possible, oui," Remy admits and smiles as the wolf devours his meal. "You're safe here, mon ami."
Remy blinks his eyes, sensing the wolf's approval. "He needs a name?" he remarks absentmindedly.
"What about Wolvie?" Warren wiggles an eyebrow. "You liked calling Wolverine that."
"Wolvie," Remy agrees pleased. "We'll call you Wolvie."
Warren shakes his head in disbelief. It almost looks like the canine understands every word they say. //He probably does, because of Remy.// The wolf's eyes start to drop shut and Warren curls an arm around Remy's waist. "Come on, we need to talk, but first we're getting into bed. You look damn tired, love."
Remy fumbles in his pockets and uncovers the shackles. He hands them to Warren with a questioning look in his eyes. "Do I still need dem?" Fear, doubt and apprehension have been his companions for much too long. He can't dismiss them like that.
Warren nods his head. "He lied, Rem. Whatever this mutant power is it won't make people rape you." He wonders how many more times Remy needs to hear it, but most importantly, he has to prove his words through his actions. "Wolvie is almost asleep, Rem. We should get some rest as well." By using the word we, he hopes that Remy will give in easier. "I'm tired," he adds, manipulating the Cajun a little.
"Oui, cher." Remy allows his lover to pull him to his feet. "I ain' sure I can leave dem here," he says and points at the shackles on the coffee table. "What if you?" He leaves the sentence unfinished. //What if you are wrong, cher?//
Warren senses the question, momentarily unsure whether he's hearing it in his mind or that his instincts are guiding him. "Then bring them along."
Remy gathers them up and carries them upstairs after looking one last time at their canine guest who's deeply asleep.
"Want to take a shower first?" Warren inquires. To be honest, he just wants Remy resting in bed.
"Non, will do dat tomorrow." Tired, Remy drops onto the bed.
"How's your side? We have to check on it in the morning." Sinking down next to his lover, he embraces him and they fall onto the bed sideways, holding each other tightly. "You've changed," Warren mentions absentmindedly, as he pushes back a stray lock.
"In what way?" Remy asks hesitantly.
"You're even more beautiful now and you already were stunning!" Warren enjoys the shy smile on his love's face. "There's this? how can I phrase this?" Momentarily lost for the right words, he searches Remy's eyes. "It's like you posses this inner light. Like I can see your? soul on the outside and it's breathtaking."
Exhausted, Remy rests his head against Warren's shoulder. "Can we keep him? I never had a pet."
The question surprises Warren. "Wolvie? If he wants to stay he's welcome." He realizes that Remy already feels attached to the wolf. "Remy? Are you awfully tired or can be talk?" He pulls up the blankets, ignoring the fact that they're still fully clothed. Pulling Remy closer, he tries to warm that cold body with his.
"We can talk," Remy cocks his eyes and meets Warren's. "'bout what?" It feels good to rest in his lover's arms. Makes him feel safe and wanted.
"Your magic, love," Warren says tentatively, but resolved. "I want to know what it feels like. Can you only sense my emotions or also my thoughts?"
"Emotions? oui, t'oughts?. Not so sure, cher," Remy replies honestly. "Merci for pulling me t'rough. I felt awfully lost. Didn' know what to do 'bout de two of you in my head."
"What am I feeling now?" Warren softly kisses his love's brow and his hands soothingly rub Remy's back. He's got a confession to make and it scares the hell out of him. But he's made his decision. He won't wait for the nightmares to reveal his betrayal. He's going to tell Remy now about his part in the trial.
Remy lifts one leg and rests it on Warren's hip, snuggling closer. But he always maintains eye contact. "Love," he whispers. "It's de clearest t'ing I'm gettin'. You really love me?" he pauses to look inside his mind, trying to label the sensations floating through him. "Concerned?"
"Yes, anything else?" His right hand tangles in the auburn hair.
"Fear?" Remy chokes out. "Why are you 'fraid, cher?" His heart misses a beat, seeing the changed expression in his love's blue eyes.
"I've got to tell you something, Rem. Please listen and let me finish?"
Remy nods his head. "What is it, cher?" Apprehension floods his mind and it takes him a moment to realize it is Warren's.
"You remember the trial," Warren starts hesitantly, fearing Remy's possible reactions. He can only hope that the Cajun can find it in his heart to forgive him.
"Oui, I do? why bring it up?" Remy's tone is filled with pain and regrets. The only thing keeping him sane is this warm body next to him, the warm feelings washing over him and he clings to them. "I don' want to remember Antarctica, too cold, cher."
"I was there too," Warren says, plunging into the deep and sending a little prayer up to their guardian angel, hoping he's still around, looking over them.
"You?" Funny, he doesn't remember that detail. "What were you doin' dere, cher?"
"Eric the Red? appointed me as your defence. I'm a lawyer and?" Warren cringes, as Remy's eyes grow big. "Rem, please listen!"
But his memories are coming back. "Your wings? chained?" Eric the Red made a mockery of his trial, a trial he deserves, but it should have been a fair one!
"I accepted to defend you, Rem." Nervously, Warren licks his lips, trying to keep his eyes from watering. Damn! He never thought it would be this hard! "Then I learned that you worked for Sinister, were involved in the Massacre and I?" God help him, but he can't speak the words.
"Mais what, cher?" Remy's clinging to him, not even realizing Warren is holding onto him with the same desperation. His new power tells him that Warren's panicking. Warren's heart beats madly underneath his fingertips.
Warren's afraid to continue, but in order to move on, they've got to face this. "After hearing about the Marauders? I refused to defend you any longer." There he said it! Scared, he probes Remy's eyes, which are surprisingly lucid. However, his own eyes are swimming now and tears escape down his cheek. "I'm so sorry, Rem. I let you down? just as Eric the Red wanted."
"Dat's it?" Remy whispers, remembering Warren's tone when he'd told Eric the Red that he was no longer defending him. "Dat's it? Cher? I understand. You were hurt 'cause dey took your wings? I don' blame you, cher!" He presses a passionate kiss on his lover's startled lips. "I understand."
"You forgive me? Forgive me for walking out on you?" Warren cries softly. He was so scared to confess this to his lover. "How can you?" But the answer is in the red on black eyes and it's called love. He doesn't deserve this leniency. "I didn't return to get you out of that hell-hole," he continued, his bitter tone aimed at himself. "We just left."
"Because Rogue told you I was dead," Remy reminds him. "It's bien, ange. I understand. Would have done de same t'ing If I had been in your place." It physically hurts to see the man he loves in so much in pain. "Don' hate yourself for dis," Remy pleads, suddenly understanding the alien emotion running through his mind.
Remy swallows hard, remembering that night when he was caught in his own nightmares. Warren soothed him back then by telling him how much he loved him. He draws from that experience, wraps his arms around Warren and tucks his lover's head away against his chest. "Je t'aime, ange. Je t'aime. I will always love you. I don' blame you."
Hearing those words makes him sob, but they also mend his heart. "Rem?" He looks up and stares into melancholy eyes. "Love you? really do."
"I know dat, cher," Remy reassures him and wraps his body around his lover's, ignoring the sting in his side. "Ange? You have a good cry now," he says in a mischievous tone.
"I'm not a little child!" Warren counters and he's surprised to hear the amusement in his own voice. "You're so good to me."
"Moi?" Remy raises an eyebrow. "You're de only reason why I'm still sane? felt like I was goin' to lose my mind too many times to count."
"We should change into our jammies," Warren whispers, hoping it will draw a chuckle from his lover.
"I don' know, cher? I'm comfortable. Got de most important t'ing in my life right here?" Remy closes his eyes, focusing on the warm body in his arms. His lover? and his lover allows him to console him, to be there for him. It's a novel experience and Remy doesn't really want to give it up, doesn't want to move, for then things will change.
Warren smiles warmly against Remy's chest. "Rem, don't ever leave me, you hear? Don't."
"I could never leave my ange," Remy replies, loving the sappy talk. He has never shared something this warm, this intense with a lover before.
A soft growl disturbs their too brief moment in heaven. Warren turns his head and can't help but smile. "We've got company, Rem."
"He wants to sleep here," Remy informs his love. "He feels lonely downstairs. Make him a bed in de corner? Or he will crawl onto de bed."
"You already got me wrapped around your little finger, your highness!" Warren teases warmly. Reluctantly, he gets up and puts a blanket and pillow in the corner. "You can sleep there."
The wolf limps over to the pillow and settles down. His eyes are alert, scanning the room for possible danger.
"Rem?" Quickly, Warren crawls back underneath the covers, snuggling up to Remy. It feels good to be held. "I got this feeling Wolvie is a very smart wolf."
Remy agrees. "His mind feels? focused? mais den 'gain? he's de first animal I ever made contact wid. Mebbe wolves just feel like dat?" Remy craves his lover's warmth and while trying to get even closer, they end up in a tangled mess.
Unexpectedly, feathers float closer, descending onto them in a protective hug. "Cher," he whispers taken aback.
"You're safe, Rem. We are safe. Let's get some sleep."
Remy doesn't argue and closes his eyes, knowing that he will always be safe in his angel's arms.

 

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Westchester
While humming a soft melody, Bobby drives back to the mansion. His date with Nicholas was sweet, but much too short. It's a pity that his love has to work the rest of the night. A melancholy sigh leaves his lips. Nicholas accepts his mutant power unconditionally and he hopes that this relationship will work out.
Still a little lost in thoughts, he almost fails to see the lone form sitting near the lake. "Scott?" he mumbles surprised. It's not like Slim to come here in the middle of the night and he can't help but wonder if something bad has happened.
He stops the car, gets out and walks towards the lone figure. "Scott?" Yes, the ruby glasses sparkle as his friend turns his head and the moonlight hits them. "What are you doing here on your own?" His heart misses a beat, seeing the solitary tear that slips away from underneath the glasses. "Did something happen to Jean?" It's his first thought, his primary concern. "Did someone get hurt?"
"Bobby?" Scott tries to recompose himself, but fails. "What are you doing here?"
"Coming home after my date with Nicholas," he says honestly, still a little baffled that only Storm has problems with his sexual preferences. Scott was a lot more easy-going than he ever expected. "Yeah," he whispers, seeing the question on Scott's face. "We're doing okay. This might be something long term."
"I'm happy for you," Scott replies, eager to think about something else than the death certificate that upended his life. "You're awfully quiet about him. What's he like?"
Surprised at hearing this question, he sits down next to Scott. Something odd is going on here and he wants to know what upset his friend. Okay, he can wait for Scott to address his problems. He can go first. "Nicholas is 25 years old and a history student. He works in the store to earn some money so he can continue his studies."
Scott nods his head. "Sounds like Nicholas knows what he wants out of life."
"Yeah, I suppose so." Bobby peeks at his friend. "My mutant power doesn't bother him. I told him the truth before things got serious."
Scott sits quietly. "Always hoped you'd find the right person, Bobby."
"Me being gay never bothered you?" Bobby often wondered why.
"I'm not homophobic, Bobby. Give me a little credit here. When it's love?" His voice trails off. The professor is consort to an alien, so why would it be wrong for two men to love each other?
"And Warren being in love with a man? did that surprise you?" Bobby asks hesitantly. "I must admit, I never saw that one coming."
"He surprised you?" Scott laughs softly. "Me too, Bobby. I thought Warren was as straight as they come, but? I do hope we'll meet the guy at one point. I'm really curious to see?" He stops talking, seeing the unexpected panic in Bobby's eyes.
Bobby feels cornered. Yeah, he promised Warren to keep quiet, but he fears he might cave in if Scott pushes the right buttons, so he changes their topic. "Are you gonna tell me what you're doing out here?"
Privately, Scott curses his stupidity. He doesn't really want to discuss Remy, but maybe talking to Bobby is the right thing to do. "Do you remember the package you handed Jean a few days ago?"
Bobby nods his head. "Yeah, bad news?"
"I'm not sure, Bobby," Scott whispers, wondering how much he should tell Bobby. The professor and Jean are waiting for him to talk this through, but for some reason he prefers to confide in Bobby. "I just found out that I've probably got a younger brother?"
Bobby's eyes grow big. "A younger brother?"
"Corsair never mentioned him to me, but according to the death certificate I received in the mail, the baby died 5 minutes after birth."
"He's dead? I'm sorry, man," Bobby says sincerely and rests a comforting hand on Scott's shoulder. He isn't going to push his friend. Scott has to set the pace.
"The doctor who delivered the baby was Nathaniel Essex."
"Sinister?" Bobby gasps, "Oh, man, this is bad."
"I guess Corsair never mentioned it, because Sinister told them that the baby died."
"But he didn't?" Bobby takes an educated guess. "Tell me, Slim, what's going on?"
"The baby survived. I guess Sinister wanted him for his own experiments and my parents never knew that their son survived after all."
Bobby leans in a little closer, cursing the fact that he can't see Scott's eyes. "How do you know the baby didn't die?"
"The certificate states that the baby was born with red on black eyes?" he isn't finished yet, but Bobby's surprised yelp stops him. "Yeah, how many people are born with red on black eyes?"
"Gambit?" Bobby trembles slightly at the revelation. "Remy's your brother?"
"Younger brother, yeah? He was born when I was 5." Scott looks out over the lake. "I guess the professor and Hank are already running a DNA test."
"They know too?"
"Jean and the professor found the letter when I was on my way out. I just couldn't face them," Scott admits honestly. "We should have searched harder!"
Bobby immediately understands that last remark. "The sensors didn't pick anything up when we were in Antarctica, Scott." Damn! He knows Remy's still alive, but can't tell Scott, but if he keeps quiet Scott's going to beat himself up for this!
"You know, Bobby," Scott turns his head and looks at his younger friend. "I can't help but hope that Warren's right. That maybe Remy was still alive when Rogue left him and that he did find a way out of that icy hell."
"Scott," Bobby starts, squeezing his friend's shoulder.
"I failed my brother, Bobby! My brother! Fuck, what kind of leader am I?" Scott suddenly explodes, pulls away from Bobby's hand and starts to pace. "I should have done something! Should have done something different. Should have seen the problems between Rogue and Remy! Should have known he's my brother!"
"Scott, calm down!" Bobby orders, gets to his feet and stops Scott in his tracks by resting both his hands on the man's shoulders. "You didn't know. You tried. You always try. This mess isn't your fault."
Scott bites his lower lip. "I regret?"
"What?" Bobby feels a little relieved now Scott's calming down.
"Alex and I? we never really got along?" Scott sinks down onto the ground again, resting his chin on his knees. "Maybe, if I had known that Remy was family? I always wanted that special bond with Alex, brothers? acting like brothers, being brothers? but Alex always made it so damn hard for me to love him like a brother."
Bobby remains quiet, sitting down again, letting Scott tell in his own pace.
"Remy and I got along, yes, but I never tried to really get to know him. He was a team-member and I his team leader. That was it. If I had known I could have tried harder."
Bobby draws in a deep breath. His conscience is acting up. Telling Scott that Remy is still alive is the right thing to do, but there is the promise he made to Warren. "You wanna know something, Scott?" Bobby waits for Scott to look up. "I think Remy's still alive. We didn't find his body. You've got to believe he's still alive."
"I want to," Scott admits. "But I wouldn't survive the disappointment if we found his body after all. I want to go back to Antarctica, Bobby and search the citadel one more time."
Bobby swallows hard. "Don't do that, man."
"I have to, Bobby," Scott insists, "I've got to know if his body is buried underneath the snow. Are you coming with me?"
//Oh shit,// Bobby thinks upset. He can't let Scott leave on this wild goose chase, not while he knows the truth. "Make you a deal, Slim. Lemme catch some sleep and if you still wanna leave, we will take the Black Bird tomorrow." //In the meantime I can email Warren and tell him what's going on.//
"Thanks," Scott whispers, truly touched. "You were there when we searched the first time?" He remembers trying to take out the Black Bird to return to Antarctica and suddenly Bobby had stood in the cabin door opening, demanding he was allowed to tag along.
"We should go home, find out what the DNA test revealed," Bobby suggests and rises from the ground. He offers Scott a hand and pulls him to his feet. "C'mon," and he points towards his car. "It's getting chilly out here."
Feeling defeated and depressed, Scott follows. His instincts tell him what the outcome of the DNA test will be. "I've been so blind."
Bobby gets behind the wheel and starts the car. "We'll find out the truth and if Remy's still alive, we'll find him," he promises passionately.
"Thanks," Scott whispers and awkwardly, he pats the back of Bobby's hand.

Fire Lake
"Daimon Hellstorm. I know that name," Logan growls. "You're the son of Satan. Hank mentioned ya once?" Feeling ill at ease, he backs away, tightening the grip he has on Jean-Luc. "What do ya want from us?"
"Sit down," Daimon says amused.
Isaac enters the study and puts the coffee onto the desk. "Anything else?" he asks Daimon.
"No, just make sure we aren't interrupted." Daimon sips from his coffee. The moment Isaac closes the door behind him, he looks at his guests, which seem reluctant to try the hot coffee. He laughs; people always assume the worst when meeting him.
"Talk about what?" Jean-Luc asks as he sits down. Logan moves into place behind him, resting a cautious hand on the headrest.
"A child with the devil's eyes and angelic features," Daimon says and watches Jean-Luc's startled reaction.
"Remy?" Jean-Luc exchanges a glance with his lover. "Is dis about Remy?"
"And the Antiquary," Daimon clarifies.
Both Logan and Jean-Luc notice the disgust as Daimon speaks the name.
"Did you put him up to dis?" Jean-Luc asks in anger. "Did you tell de Antiquary to kidnap de baby?"
Daimon gets up from behind the desk, cocks his head and laughs hard, mocking them. "You don't know me," he states.
"That's true, but we know what ya are," Logan counters viciously.
"Still hostile?" Daimon shakes his head. "I have no ties with the Antiquary. I've considered taking his soul more than once."
Jean-Luc gives Logan a cautious look. "I want to hear de rest," he informs his lover.
Reluctantly, Logan gives in, but he still doesn't like this one bit.
"A wise decision." Daimon pulls up his chair and sits down in front of Jean-Luc. "There's a prophecy."
"The Antiquary mentioned that." Logan keeps a close eye on Daimon.
Daimon continues, ignoring Logan's remark. "The prophecy stated that a child would end the Antiquary's reign of terror. The child would bear the mark of the devil. The Antiquary assumed that red eyes were such a mark."
"You have got red eyes too," Jean-Luc whispers uncomfortably.
"Yes, but I am Satan's offspring," Daimon states.
"And Remy?" Jean-Luc needs to know.
"A mutant. Satan didn't father him." Daimon sees the relief in the Cajun's eyes. "Remy always possessed the power to defeat the Antiquary, but the sorcerer ensured the child would never discover his real power."
"The charm?" Jean-Luc says with sudden dread.
Daimon laughs. "I'll get to that in a second."
Logan growls, "Ya better hurry up."
"After Remy was born things went wrong. You stole him from the hospital and that crushed Remy's chances at growing strong before fighting the Antiquary." Daimon leans back, emptying his cup of coffee, realizing his guests still refuse to accept the drink. So be it.
"Why contact us now?" Jean-Luc asks confused.
"You went after the Antiquary. That puts Remy in danger? " Daimon taps his fingertips on the wooden arm rest. "You woke him. He's been asleep for a long time, but now he wants revenge."
"Ya think he'll go after Remy?" Logan interrupts, still uncertain what to make of Daimon.
"Yes," Daimon confirms. "Understand this. I only learned of Remy's existence weeks ago." When he succeeded his father as the new ruler of Hell he uncovered a lot of plotting. "Remy suffered unnecessarily because my father leaked the prophecy to the Antiquary. The sorcerer wasn't supposed to know the words of the prophecy."
Jean-Luc's brain is working overtime to try and make sense of all this information. "Why Remy? If he's only a mutant why would he be chosen to bring down a sorcerer?"
Daimon nods his head. "You're smart. Yes, there's more, but are you ready to hear the rest of the story?"
"I am," Jean-Luc says determinedly. "I stole him dat night and I need to keep him safe now."
"Why did you steal him?" Daimon's eyes narrow. "Tell me."
"The Antiquary ordered me." Jean-Luc shifts uncomfortably in his chair. Logan tenses behind him and Jean-Luc places his hand on his lover's, admonishing Logan to keep his cool.
"And your wife?" Daimon raises an eyebrow. Yes, he can be ruthless if necessary, but these two men aren't his enemies.
"Wife?" Logan repeats surprised. "Ya never mentioned yer wife was involved." He vividly remembers Jean-Luc's confession and Mattie telling him that the Antiquary used the potion of eternal life to control the patriarch. But now he knows Jean-Luc is keeping back.
Jean-Luc speaks through gritted teeth. "Louise was ill, very ill and de Antiquary said that he would heal her if I stole de baby. I made a pact."
"And he let her die anyway," Daimon finishes for him.
"Oui, Louise died two days after I handed Remy over to de Antiquary." Jean-Luc gets to his feet and paces restlessly. "I wanted to reclaim Remy, but? the Antiquary was too strong."
Satisfied, Daimon stretches his legs and returns to his desk, but secretly he studies the impact this new information has on Logan.
Logan feels shocked. He assumed all along that something traumatic had happened in Jean-Luc's life, considering the way the man had locked himself up in his work, but? "He let her die?"
"Oui," Jean-Luc says with steel in his tone. "I loved her so much dat I was willing to sacrifice a baby's life."
Logan turns away from Jean-Luc and locks eyes with Daimon. "The rest of the story?"
Daimon wavers. "Maybe later?"
"Now," Jean-Luc says resolved. "Tell us now."
Daimon gives in; maybe it is better this way. "Remy's soul is? special."
"Soul? Special?" Logan raises an eyebrow. "What the hell are ya talkin' 'bout?"
Daimon grins. "I doubt you'll understand. Maybe you aren't ready yet to hear this."
"Try us," Jean-Luc states in a clear tone.
"Every soul has the choice to serve good or evil," Daimon explains, "Sometimes, a demon or an angel decides to join with a human soul because it's been given a task. When I was born, my soul was half human, half demonic. My wife sacrificed her sanity in order to expel the satanic part."
"I'm sorry to hear dat, mais what has dis to do with Remy?" Jean-Luc studies Daimon and is upset to see a very human emotion in those red eyes; regret.
"Remy's soul is half human, half angelic." Daimon grins hearing their surprised gasps. "The Antiquary always feared that Remy would discover his powers, his hidden powers, what you call charm."
"What did you say?" Jean-Luc mutters startled.
"A child was born with red eyes and angelic features," Daimon repeats his earlier statement. "Red eyes because of his mutant powers, and deep inside his soul lives the essence that joined him before birth. It's rare that an angel decides to re-incarnate, melting with a human soul, but the Antiquary was gaining too much power. Remy was chosen to fight this battle."
"I never suspected?"
"You know who named him Remy?" Daimon asks, relieved to see understanding in his guests' eyes. It's important that they believe him.
"Non," Jean-Luc mumbles.
"The Antiquary. My father told him the angel's name? Remiel." Daimon takes a deep breath. "I owe Remy my help."
Logan, who has been strangely quiet, looks up. "Ya need to draw a number and stand in line if ya want to kill the bastard."
Daimon laughs loudly. "You can't kill him! He's a sorcerer. Part of his soul is demonic!"
"And you can?" Jean-Luc asks to make sure.
"Yes," Daimon replies. "We will track him down and when the time is right my Hellfire will send his black soul to Hell where it belongs!"

Ireland
"Now be a good wolf and eat!"
Warren smiles hearing Remy's concerned voice. They just visited the vet and Remy was clearly relieved when the vet told them that the wolf would be okay. They got some ointment to go onto the wound and bandages. Then they bought tons of dog food.
Now that they are back he gets rid of the image inducer and starts carrying the rest of canned dog food inside. Remy's sitting on his heels, petting the wolf's head. The look the canine is giving Remy is uncanny and Warren wonders just what's going in their minds. He feels left out.
"Cher?" Remy looks up and extends his hand. "Come 'ere."
Warren puts the cans on the kitchen counter and joins his lover.
"First time I'm doin' dis," Remy whispers shyly.
"What, Rem?" Warren wants to add something, but suddenly a feral power slips into his mind, focused and predatory. "So that's how Wolvie feels to you?"
"Oui," Remy says with a smile. "And don' worry. He won' try to bite you 'gain. He now knows you're a bien homme." Remy cocks his head. "I'm tired?"
"Why don't you take a shower? Might help," Warren suggests, surprised that the canine's presence still lingers in his mind, now that Remy's retreating to the staircase.
"Want to join me, cher? In de shower?" Remy asks shyly. "I t'ink I'm ready for de next step. Are you, ange?"
"Just touching?" Warren wavers. "Don't want to go too fast."
"I know dat, cher," Remy reassures him. "Join me?"
"Okay," Warren gives in. "Just going to carry the rest inside and make sure Wolvie's got something to eat and drink and then?" He blushes, thinking about joining Remy in the shower.
Remy grins, brushes his lover's lips and pinches Warren's buttocks.
"Rem!" Warren exclaims, rubbing his butt. "Don't do that!"
But Remy continues to grin and heads for the bathroom.
"Revenge will be mine," Warren announces, embarrassed to find that Remy's pinch made him rock hard. His erection is pushing against his jeans.
Remy relaxes underneath the warm beam of water. Although he slept extremely well last night he woke up in his clothes and has been dying ever since to take a shower. But the vet could only see them early in the morning, so they left right after Warren made that call.
He releases a deep sigh as the warm water flows down his body. What's taking Warren this long? Or is he trying to stall? Merde, this is hard on both of them. He realizes that they have to take this slow, for both their sakes, but he won't break when Warren touches him. But what he does fear are the memories, possibly even flashbacks. The Antiquary hasn't felt this close in years.
"Hey lover," Warren announces his presence, trying hard not to startle Remy. He's been reading Jean-Luc's books and they offered some good pointers.
"Cher, come inside and close de door." A wave of cold washes inside and makes him tremble. Suddenly, he forgets to take his next breath as Warren steps up to him? naked. It's the first time he sees his lover completely naked and his heart picks up speed.
"Beautiful," Remy whispers approvingly. The wings are half spread, touching the shower cabin's walls. A few golden hairs shine from his lover's chest and his gaze travels down the washboard abdomen. He swallows hard seeing Warren's erect cock.
"It's bien, ange. Come 'ere," Remy whispers, surprised that Warren is acting this shyly. He opens his arms and pulls his lover closer to his chest. "Nervous?"
"Yeah," Warren whispers in a raspy tone. "Geeze, Rem." Explanatorily, his right hand comes to rest on the Cajun's smooth, hairless chest.
"Careful, cher, you're droolin'," Remy says teasingly and eases the tension between them.
"Just touching and kissing," Warrens states determinedly. "We're taking this slow," he reminds his lover and strokes the soft skin underneath his fingertips.
"D'accord," Remy whispers and leans in closer to kiss his lover's lips.
Warren moans as lips capture his and he greedily parts his teeth, luring Remy's tongue inside. He maintains eye contact; certain that Remy's expression will give away any unease. He gasps as Remy's semi erect cock brushes his. "You little tease," he breathes into Remy's mouth.
Remy chuckles and strokes his lover's back, hands trailing down to his buttocks. "Make you cum?" he offers, genuinely entranced by the way their bodies are rubbing against each other.
Warren momentarily stops his caresses to search the red on black eyes. "Only if I can make you cum in return." He reclaims those luscious lips and sucks on Remy's lower lip. Then his tongue trails down his lover's throat, suckles the skin underneath Remy's ear and smiles secretly when the Cajun arches his back.
Feeling lost, Remy surrenders to his lover's ministrations. Warren's demand confuses him. He isn't used to his lover wanting to pleasure him in return. He knows how to surrender, how to please and give, but how does one accept pleasure? "Cher?" he whispers breathlessly.
"It's okay, Rem," Warren whispers, recognizing the confusion in those eyes. "We can stop."
"Non!" he exclaims upset. "Want to make you cum first," he clarifies.
Warren watches him for several moments. "Just touching? remember that, love."
Slightly embarrassed Remy avoids his lover's eyes. He planned on using his lips and tongue to bring Warren to orgasm.
"Just your hands, love? And now kiss me?" Warren leans against the tiles and pulls Remy with him. He raises one hand and rests it at the back of Remy's neck, gently kissing his lover.
His right hand finds Warren's hard cock and his fingers close around it, pumping slowly. "Je t'aime," he whispers, a little startled when Warren throws back his head and bucks against his hand, asking him to speed up. "Never had dis much control," he whispers absentmindedly.
Warren's eyes sparkle. "I know that, love," he pants. "Please, Rem? harder? faster?" Remy's finger teases the slit and he arches his back, mutely begging for release. He yelps softly as another hand gently squeezes his balls, rolling them slowly. "Shit, Remy, what??" The lips return, take away his last words and a delicious tongue chases his in a wild duel.
Remy obliges his lover and fists the now slippery cock. Precum drips over his fingers and suddenly he's glad Warren insisted that this would only be a hand job. He still remembers the Antiquary's bitter taste when the old man made him go down on him. Oui, doing it this way is better?
"Damn," Warren whispers, realizing he's close. "I'm gonna cum, love."
Remy smiles, leaves his lover's lips and concentrates on one painfully erect nipple. At first, he licks it, delighted to hear Warren's soft mews, but then he suckles it passionately.
"Rem!" White cream shoots from his cock into the palm of his lover's hand. He's swaying on his feet and can't remember the last time he came this hard. "Rem, kiss me?"
Remy quickly returns to kiss his lover's bruised lips, but continues to milk Warren's cock until the last drop. With his left hand, he supports his lover, whose legs are about to give out on him. Gently, he follows Warren down until they're both kneeling on the floor. "Did you like dat?" Remy asks awkwardly.
Warren purrs his answer. "Ohhh, yessss, most definitely!" Cocking his head he looks into nervous red on black eyes. "That was perfect." His words take away some of his lover's tension and Warren strokes the wet hair. "I love you, Rem." He loves the blush that creeps across Remy's face.
Remy manages a smile. "Gettin' cold, cher," he says and shivers. Although he's still painfully hard, the thought of Warren touching him like that makes him nervous.
"We have a deal, love," Warren reminds him, remembering Jean-Luc's warning that Remy might refuse accepting the same pleasure in return. Facing his lover, he pulls Remy onto his lap, wrapping the Cajun's legs around his waist.
"What are you doin'?" Remy feels paralysed, now that he's so close to his lover. Warm water still drips down their bodies and his erection throbs painfully.
Warren folds one arm around his lover's waist to steady him. Then he leans in closer and licks the skin near Remy's collarbone. A soft moan is his reward. Encouraged, he shifts his attention to the two rock hard nipples. He licks one and rolls the other between his fingertips. He's trying to find the spots that will make Remy moan, make him arch his back, thrust against his stomach and he's succeeding. Pulling up his knees, he offers them as support and Remy rests his back against them.
Feeling incredibly shy, vulnerable and exposed, Remy grabs Warren's shoulders to hold onto. "Cher, you don' need to do dis."
"Oh, no, Remy. I need to do this, want to do this," and he silences his lover with a ravishing kiss that leaves the Cajun breathless. Slowly, his fingers tangle in his lover's pubic hair, then slide down to run over the length of Remy's hard cock. "Never thought a man could get me hard? could make me want to do this," he whispers aloud. "But I want to make you cum, want to touch you, give you pleasure." As he's talking he starts to stroke his lover's cock.
"Cher?" Remy stutters surprised. Warren's lips never leave his skin and are now drawing circles around his nipple. His fingernails dig into Warren's shoulder, brushing feathers in the progress.
"Rem?" Warren's fingers explore the texture of his lover's balls and the velvet like skin feels intoxicating. "Please cum for me?"
Remy moans his need and surrenders to the sensations in his body and mind. Mon Dieu, he feels the love Warren bears him, the desire and need to make him cum, to feel him tremble in his arms. "Ange?"
"Cum for me, love," Warren whispers and increases the pace with which he's pumping his lover's cock. Remy goes rigid in his arms and he reacts at once, suckling his lover's tongue. A second later, warm cum covers his hand. Remy's trembling in his arms, eyes big. "Love you."
"Mon Dieu," Remy whispers in ecstasy as waves of exquisite pleasure course through him. He can't stop himself as he buries his face against Warren's chest, nuzzling the skin there.
"Can I taste you?" Warren asks in an unguarded moment, unsure why he's making this request. All he knows is that he wants to explore every aspect of their bodies and lovemaking.
Remy's eyes mirror his surprise. "If dat's what you want, cher?"
Warren raises his hand and licks a droplet of cum from his fingers. "Might not take me too long to take the next step, Rem," he whispers, surprised at his eagerness to take this further.
"Cher? Hold me?"
Warren distinctly notices the confusion in his lover's red eyes. "I took you a little by surprise, didn't I?" he realizes and embraces Remy.
"Oui," he admits. "I t'ought I was ready to do dis and I was? mais takin' dis furder?"
"Still scares you," Warren realizes instinctively. "Don't worry about it, love. We'll take the next step together and only when we're both ready."
"Merci, ange," Remy whispers into the feathers which now cover him. "Mebby we should clean up now?"
"In a moment? can I just hold you a little longer?" Warren says, knowing how much Remy needs this.
"Bien," Remy gives in, snuggling closer, enjoying the warm steam and steady flow of water down his spine. "Will you take me flyin' tonight?"
"Yeah," Warren whispers pleased and inhales his lover's scent, suddenly realizing how damn right this feels. He never felt this intense when he was with Bets. "You're the other half of my soul," he whispers barely audible, struck by that sudden insight. "And I will never let you go again."

 

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Westchester
"You're sure? No mistakes?" Scott's voice trembles and he inhales deeply before looking at the results of the DNA test Hank just ran. Jean, the professor and Bobby are close, equally curious and concerned.
"No mistakes," Hank assures him. He isn't sure how this outcome will affect Scott, but he hopes it will be for the better. "You shouldn't postpone this."
"Easy for you to say," Scott counters and finally looks at the test results, which don't surprise him at all. "Brothers," he whispers resigned. "I had this chance and blew it!"
"You didn't know Remy was your brother," the professor tries to reason with his student, but knows he has already lost. "Whoever sent you that death certificate wants to hurt you."
Scott shakes his head. "I want to be alone? please, guys." He walks out of the med lab, desperately searching for some quiet. But an angry female voice breaks the silence.
"Sugah, yuh gotta believe me!"
"Rogue." Scott feels an unexpected raw wave of anger and hatred directed at his team-mate. He needs to get out of here before he does something he might regret later. Facing Rogue now is the worst thing he can do.
"I can't!" Joseph exclaims upset. "You just told me he was alive when you left him! You left him there to die!"
Scott listens intensely, suddenly extremely alert and interested. He steps into the living room and watches the couple verbally fight.
"I considered Gambit my friend!" Joseph says in a tense tone. "He backed me up when no one else would, you included. I can't love a woman who?" Stunned, he looks at Scott's seemingly emotionless face. "I'm sorry, but I've got to leave. Rogue, it's over between us." After uttering those words, Joseph storms out of the room.
Scott takes in Rogue's pale face. Her hands are shaking and if looks could kill, Joseph and he would be dead now. "Why? I thought you loved Remy." This time, he wants answers. It's personal now. Did she kill his younger brother? "The truth, Rogue."
Rogue is about to turn away and leave the room, but he covers the distance between them in a few steps. He yanks her around and locks eyes with her. "Did you ever really love Remy?"
Rogue's eyes mirror confusion and anger. "Why's everyone defendin' him all of a sudden?" She tries to free herself of his hold, but Scott refuses to let go. "What do yuh want?"
"Was Remy alive when you left him?" Scott's tone is calm and composed. He doesn't want her to know the truth yet; that Remy and he are brothers. She will only use that knowledge to her advantage and twist it to her convenience.
"Yeah! He was alive!" she explodes. "He deserved tuh die!"
"Why?" It's becoming increasingly difficult to control his emotions. "Why!" He shakes her slightly. "Why?"
"Because he?" Rogue stares at him. Her eyes are big and unfocused. "Ah knew he was holdin' back all that time? but he never confided in me. He didn't trust me!"
"So?" Scott hisses the word between gritted teeth. "You kept back when you joined us. Or did you forget all the crimes you committed before joining the X-Men?" He startles at his own venomous tone and releases her as if bitten by a snake.
"He never trusted me! Never loved me!" Rogue shoots back. "Ah gave him so many chances tuh tell me and he never did!"
Privately, Scott counts to ten to regain his calm. "Did you ever love him?"
"Yeah, Ah did! But he destroyed that love by not tellin' me the truth!" Rogue walks over to the corridor. "Ah wish Ah hadn't left him out there tuh die, but? I was so angry with him! All these years Ah tried tuh get through tuh him, tuh tell me what he was tryin' tuh hide, but it took a trial to reveal the truth! If yuh love someone, yuh trust that person!" Hurt and anger are fighting for the upper tone in her voice.
Quietly, he watches her. "Damn you, Rogue! Do you think it's so easy to trust? Trust you with information he obviously felt ashamed of? You've got to have a connection first before you can open up to your loved ones! It took Jean and me years to get there! It's called unconditional love and the first thing you did with Remy was put down conditions. You kept pushing him, didn't you?"
Scott takes a deep breath. "I wondered time and time again why Remy put up with your demands? Look at you and Joseph now. You started off that relationship with lies! How do you expect to ever find love if you keep manipulating? That's it, isn't it?" he says with sudden understanding. "You can't help manipulating people. Rogue, you better straighten out this mess with Joseph. You're both on this team and I don't want any screw ups? and Rogue?"
Her eyes are aflame when she looks at Scott. She's never seen this side to him and it baffles her. "What, Cyke?"
"Do me a favor? Stay out of my sight." Scott turns to leave, hearing her surprised gasp. "I mean it."
Rogue stares at his back until Scott slams the door behind him. What was that all about? And damn, what gives him the right to use such a tone with her? She tried! Tried to make things work with the stupid Cajun! It's not her fault that he never trusted her enough to prove his love to her! Enraged, she walks outside and takes to the air in pursuit of Joseph.
Maybe it's not too late yet. Maybe she can convince Joseph that she acted in his best interest when telling him Remy was dead when she left him behind. Joseph has got to believe her! Joseph loves her!

"All right, let's do this!" Bobby sits down behind his computer and is pleased to find one message from Warren in his inbox. He opens the message and then reads it quickly. "Okay, big guy," he mutters absentmindedly and hits reply.

-----Original Message-----
From: Bluefurryballs@hotmail.com
Sent: Sunday 14 January 22:47
To: WWorthington@Enterprises.com
Subject: Remy
Warren,
Okay, you know that everything that you tell me is between the two of us. My lips are sealed. I made you that promise and I'm going to keep it.
I'm glad to hear that Remy's doing better, but? man, there have been some scary developments over here. I can't tell you like this, but please, please ask Remy to reconsider. Please let me tell Scott that Remy's alive. Look, Scott really needs to know that Remy's fine. I don't feel comfortable telling you what happened over the net. Scott should be the one to do that. Warren, ask Remy and get back to me on this ASAP? Tell Remy this is important.
I know I'm rambling here, but I'm caught in the middle, knowing Remy's alive and I can't tell Scott. Scott needs to know Remy's alive, trust me on this.
Bobby.

Yeah, he's babbling all right, but he hates being stuck in this mess. He sends the message, hoping Warren will read and answer it within 24 hours; otherwise he has to go along with Scott's plan to return to Antarctica.
A knock on the door disturbs his musings. "Yeah?"
Scott opens the door, walks inside and drops onto a chair. "I don't know what to do."
Scott's emotionless tone alarms him. "What happened? I heard Rogue and Joseph shouting and?"
"I confronted her, Bobby," Scott mumbles and takes off his glasses to rub his eyes. He quickly puts them back in place. "She admitted to leaving him there alive."
"Good!" Bobby exclaims pleased. "Remy's tough. He found a way out of there."
"Then where is he now? Hiding? Hiding from us? From Rogue? How can we find him? The professor offered to use Cerebro to track Remy down, but you know the Cajun's shields. The professor won't be able to find him."
"What's this really about?" Bobby asks as he switches off the monitor. He can't run the risk of Scott reading Remy's name on the screen.
"I guess I want a second chance?" Scott sighs heavily. "I want to get to know my brother? I want that connection I never felt with Alex."
"Scott, why don't you try to get some sleep? If Remy doesn't want to be found, we'll fail. Why not give him some time? Maybe he will decide to return when he's ready?"
"That's assuming he's alive," Scott points out to him. "I can't bear the thought of him being buried underneath that snow or laying died inside that citadel. I'm his older brother, should have kept him safe."
Bobby gets up from his chair and guides Scott over to his bed. "Get comfy, Slim." He forces Scott onto his back and covers the emotionally drained man with a comforter. "I'm going to talk to Jean. Why don't you get some sleep? Things might be different when you wake up." Bobby makes sure his friend is comfortable and then moves over to the doorway, praying Warren will read the message.
"Bobby? I want to be alone? Don't tell Jean?"
"I will tell her not to disturb you, man. Now rest," Bobby instructs and closes the door. Angered, he slams a fist into the wall. He needs someone to talk to and only Warren knows the truth, so he has to keep this all inside and it's eating him alive.

Fire Lake
Daimon walks them to their guest rooms and notices the regular glance Jean-Luc sends his way. "What do you want to know?"
"Why help Remy?" Jean-Luc stops walking as they reach their rooms, which are luxurious and comfortable.
Daimon walks inside and with a flick of his finger starts a small fire in the open fire place to warm the room. "Maybe because I feel akin to your adopted son."
Logan raises an eyebrow. "Care to explain?"
Daimon looks out of the window, shivering slightly at the memories. "Contrary to what most people think, I do have feelings. I can feel fear, joy, love and hate."
"I never said you didn't," Jean-Luc reminds him as he joins the other man in front of the window. Daimon doesn't look much older than Remy. But there are lines of suffering on the man's brow he hasn't seen before.
"They called me Devilspawn when I was growing up," Daimon explains with a grim expression on his face. "At that time I didn't know that I was Satan's son. It hurt."
Jean-Luc nods his head in understanding. "They called Remy that? or Devil boy, le diable blanc."
"People can be so? ignorant, narrow-minded," Daimon agrees. "Remy suffered unnecessarily and I'm indebted to him. If my father hadn't leaked the secret?"
"You amaze me," Jean-Luc admits, no longer paying any attention to his lover, who's moved behind him.
"I am human," Daimon assures him. "My father never expected me to turn out like this. My mother died when giving birth to me and my sister, Satana, died to save Stephen Strange's soul."
Jean-Luc holds his breath, hearing his old friend's name.
"I'm the perfect example of a dysfunctional family," Daimon continues. "I never wanted to serve my father, have been a rebel from the start, but some things are inevitable," he concludes with a sigh. "I need to take care of some personal business. I will inform you the moment the Antiquary moves against Remy."
"Ya can only do that if ya know where the kid is," Logan remarks, closely observing Daimon's expression.
"He's in Ireland," Daimon replies calmly. "I've got my sources."
Feeling a little uncomfortable, Jean-Luc asks, "Does Remy know?"
"He knows nothing," Daimon interrupts his guest. "And I won't tell him. I guess that's a decision you've got to make, monsieur LeBeau." After saying that, Daimon strides out of the room.
Puzzled, Logan eyes Jean-Luc. "What was that 'bout?"
"Telling Remy dat I abducted him, telling Remy about de prophecy," Jean-Luc summarizes. "I always hoped dat I'd never have to tell Remy dat I delivered him into de Antiquary's hands."
"We can worry about that later, Cajun. First we need to stop the Antiquary from hurting the kid."
"We've got to wait," Jean-Luc realizes. "What do you think of Daimon?"
"I don't know. He puzzles me. He doesn't act like he's the son of Satan."
"Mebbe we are prejudiced? When people met Remy for de first time dey assumed he was evil too."
"No offence, Cajun," Logan growls. "But I doubt Daimon is some kinda goody two shoes. We should stay alert."
Jean-Luc sinks onto the king size bed. "I'm tired."
"We better catch some sleep," Logan agrees. "We should be ready in case the Antiquary makes his move." He drops next to Jean-Luc on the bed and covers his lover's body with his. "We also need to talk about us?"
"Later, cher?" Jean-Luc says pleadingly. "My head is spinning."
Logan presses a passionate kiss on his lover's lips. "Remy's soul is special?" he nails the problem Jean-Luc is struggling with right down.
"Can it be? Can it be dat part of his soul is??" Jean-Luc fails to pronounce the word.
"That his soul is part angelic?" Logan finishes for him. "Until a few hours ago I would have declined that option, but now? We know Daimon is the son of Satan? and if Satan exists, it is only a small step to assume that angels exist."
Jean-Luc feels lost. "I never thought?"
"The way Daimon explained it, Remy doesn't even know this himself." Logan has trouble accepting this too. "I guess Remy is the outcome of the merge that occurred before he was born. Ya ain't gonna lose yer son, Jean-Luc."
Jean-Luc wraps his arms around his lover. "I just don't want Remy to get hurt because of all dis. He's been hurt too much already."
"We'll stop the Antiquary," Logan promises, "and you know that Remy loves ya."
"Mais can he forgive me for handing him over to de Antiquary?" Jean-Luc whispers in dread. " I don't want to lose him."
"Kid's a lot stronger than ya give him credit for," Logan reminds him. "And now stop worryin'. Together, we can beat the bastard."
"Hopefully."

Ireland
"Rem? I've got to check on your side." Warren walks up to his lover, who's standing in front of the window. They spent most of the afternoon talking and he even convinced Remy to take a nap. "A penny for your thoughts."
Remy smiles. "Only a penny? A million at least!"
Warren grins warmly. "Only one million?"
"Cher?" Remy turns around and wraps his arms around Warren's waist. "I loved touchin' you in de shower," he adds with a sly grin.
Warren leads him to the couch and sits him down. "Take off that shirt," he instructs and gets some new bandages.
Remy obeys, but gives his lover a look filled with longing. "Cher?"
"Don't try those puppy dog's eyes on me. What do you want?" Warren sits down and removes the old bandage. "My, that's healing nicely. In a few days you can do without the bandages." The wound looks smoother, less raw and far less aggressive. "Must be all the rest and TLC you're getting!" Warren says jokingly.
Remy raises his right hand and then his fingers tangle in the golden hair. He can't explain this feeling of calm, of serenity that's suddenly coming over him.
"Do you know you smell of roses?" Warren quips, intensely aware of the draped expression in his lover's eyes. "What are you doing?" he whispers as something warm, light and gentle slips into his mind. With a start, he realizes it's the love Remy bears him. "Rem? Talk to me?"
"Roses?" Remy remarks absentmindedly. This serene feeling reaches each corner of his mind.
"When you took off the shackles you smelt of lilies? Don't know why, but the fragrance changes every so often." Warren finishes bandaging his lover's wound and then leans in a little closer to study the red on black eyes. "You've got golden sparkles in your iris," he whispers softly. "I've never seen them before."
"I'm scared," Remy admits unexpectedly. "I'm changin'."
Warren pulls him into an embrace. "You just need to find out what this power is about, Remy. So far it hasn't hurt us. You can deal with it. I'm with you every step of the way."
"Can we go for a walk? Need to get out of here," Remy asks pleadingly.
Warren nods his head, surprised as the golden sparkles brighten even more. "I'll get our coats."
Remy walks over to the wolf, pets his head and whispers. "We'll be back soon, mon ami." The wolf tries to get to his feet as if to accompany them, but Remy gently pushes him down again. "You need rest." The wolf gives in reluctantly.
"You ready to go?" Warren's waiting at the doorway and hands Remy his coat. "Where are we going?"
"De lake."
30 minutes later they stare across the lake. The sun is setting and casting a golden/red veil over the water.
"What's going on, Rem?" Warren sits leaned back against the trunk of a tree. Remy is sitting between his legs, his back resting against his chest. He tightens his hold on the Cajun. "It's orchids now," he says, identifying the fragrance. "Why are you so quiet?"
Remy glares at the lake. His mood is changing from serene to angry. He's trying to keep it locked up inside, trying to hold onto the silence.
Warren senses the anger, now that Remy's no longer shielding this new power. "Care to tell me why you're angry?" He fears he already knows the reason.
"He lied." Remy throws back his head and rests it on Warren's shoulder. "Because of him I lived in constant fear."
"It's okay to be angry, love," Warren reassures him. "I'm angry with him too."
"I just? wish dere was a way to get all dis anger out," Remy whispers nervously. "I feel like I'm 'bout to explode?"
"Maybe I can help," Warren sneaks a hand into a pocket and withdraws a deck of cards. "You can get the anger out this way, Rem. Throw them at the lake. No one will get hurt. If you keep this bottled up, it will tear you apart."
Remy stares at the cards and then accepts them. Slowly, he charges one with kinetic energy. "He hurt me," he whispers and throws the card, which explodes in the air before it has a chance to hit the water.
"That's it." Warren nods his head. "Let it out."
"He abused me," Remy says viciously and flips another charged card at the lake.
"What else?"
"He made me fear my own power," Remy whispers at a loss, holding onto the charged card and only throwing it at the last moment.
Warren nuzzles the back of his lover's neck. "Are you only mad with him?"
"Non," Remy admits.
"Then say it."
"She left me dere to die!" A powerful explosion disturbs the peaceful surface of the lake. "She used me? like I used her."
Warren knows it's the truth the moment Remy speaks the words. "Throw another one."
"I won' be able to walk back if I keep dis up." His charging power eats energy.
"Trust me on this one," Warren whispers.
"De X-Men didn' come back for me!" Remy hisses in a pained tone and throws the rest of the deck. "Dey don' care!"
This outburst surprises Warren. "Scott and Bobby returned to Antarctica to look for you." Remy's now struggling to free himself of the embrace, but Warren's determined to see this through. "Jean mourns your death."
"Dey don' care," Remy maintains.
"They do, Rem, they do." Warren licks the skin underneath the Cajun's right ear and his love trembles in his arms. "Now I'm smelling forget-me-not."
Remy remains quiet, then shifts in his lover's arms so he can see Warren's face.
"You're crying!" Warren realizes startled and wipes the tears away with his fingertips. "Why?"
"Because I found you, cher." Remy brushes his lover's lips. "You're right," he says and grins. "Does feel better now dat de anger got out."
"Wanna go home?"
"Home," Remy repeats the word. "Home is where you are," he whispers sincerely.
Warren smiles, rises from the ground and pulls Remy to his feet. "Wanna watch another movie before turning into sleep?"
Remy nods his head. "Sure? you goin' to fly me home? Might be a nice backrub in it for you," he hints mischievously.
"A backrub, huh?" Warren laughs warmly. "I'd like that." He moves in front of his lover and automatically Remy's hands clasps around his waist. "Let's fly home."
Remy relaxes into the warm body. Throwing those cards worn him out. "Take me home," he whispers lost in thought.

Warren wakes up because Remy's moving about in bed, tossing and turning. Every so often a moan escapes his lips. "Rem? Are you having a nightmare? Wake up, Rem!"
Remy's eyes flash open. "What? Cher?" he whispers confused and searches his surroundings. Suddenly, he grows aware of the strong arms wrapped around him. "Nightmare, oui? I was dreamin' of? him," he dislikes mentioning the Antiquary by name.
Warren holds him close, gently wiping the sweat and tears from Remy's face. "You're safe, love."
Frantically, Remy shakes his head. "I felt him, ange? felt his hands on me."
Swallowing hard, Warren tries to come up with something that will reassure his lover, but the wolf suddenly leaves his pillow and jumps onto the bed. "What are you doing, Wolvie?" Warren notices that the wolf's fur is standing rigid and a low, dangerous growl leaves his throat. "What are you sensing?"
Remy's eyes are growing wide, sensing the wolf's discomfort. The canine is picking up on something. "Ange?" he pushes himself deeper into the embrace. It's hard to make the transition from nightmare to reality, especially when a nightmare seems so real.
"What the fuck?" Warren pulls Remy protectively behind him, as a form begins to take shape at the foot end of the bed. He instinctively knows this presence poses a threat. The wolf is howling harder, his teeth flash in the moonlight.
The form grows more solid, dressed in blue and green robes; his face is hidden inside a hood. "I want what's mine," an emotionless voice announces. "I want you," he lifts a bony finger and points at Remy.
"You can't have him!" Warren shouts, spreading his wings protectively to hide Remy from sight. "It's you?" he knows with certainty. "Bastard, leave him alone. Didn't you do enough damage?"
The Antiquary laughs coldly. "Not enough."
Remy's trying to get a hold on his raging emotions. He doesn't want to feel this fear, this terror. He should be able to face his nemesis and fight him! Not hide behind his lover's back!
"You leave him alone!" Warren demands and suddenly realizes that the wolf is getting ready to jump at the intruder. He tries to pull the canine back, but it's too late. A dangerous growl fills the room and the wolf leaps at the Antiquary, targeting his throat.
"Cher?"
Remy's trembling voice reaches his mind and Warren looks over his shoulder. "We can take him, love!"
Cautiously, Remy crawls away from Warren's protective embrace. The Antiquary's form is growing translucent, almost taking the wolf with him as a portal opens. In disbelief, Remy stares at the closing portal, leaving no trace of his nemesis. He lowers himself onto the floor to check on the wolf. "Mon ami," he whispers nervously. Did this really happen? "Was he really here, ange?"
Warren joins his lover, relieved that Remy seems to be dealing surprisingly well with this unexpected attack. "That was the Antiquary, wasn't it?"
"Oui," Remy whispers upset and checks the wolf for injuries, but there are none. "Mon Dieu, how did he find us? Why come after me now?" Remy's shaking violently and the wolf rests his head on Remy's thigh, looking up with a trusting expression in his yellow eyes.
Warren pulls him close and rocks him slowly. It settles Remy's nerves and within minutes his lover's heartbeat is once again steady and firm. "He's gone now."
"Mais he will be back, believe me," Remy whispers softly. "And we can' fight him."

Fire Lake
An urgent knock on the door wakes both Logan and Jean-Luc, who fell asleep fully clothed. Two pairs of alert eyes watch as Daimon strides into the room.
"What happened?" Jean-Luc quickly gets to his feet, followed by his lover.
"The Antiquary made his move," Daimon informs them pleased.
"Did Remy get hurt?" Jean-Luc can't believe the smug look on Daimon's face. "Why didn't you wake us? Why didn't we act?"
"Remy's fine," Daimon nods his head. "And act we will. I now know where he's hiding."
Logan unleashes his claws. "Let's finish this. It's payback time."
Daimon gestures them to come closer. They almost back down when flames leave Daimon's eyes and hands, as the son of Satan summons his Hellfire trident. "We're going to Ireland," he whispers ominously. "Are you coming?"
"Oui," Jean-Luc reacts first and takes a step closer.
Logan follows reluctantly. The stench of sulphur is overwhelming. A moment later, darkness swallows them.

 

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Ireland
"Rem?" Worried, Warren watches his lover closely. "Are you okay?" The unexpected confrontation with his past upset his lover. "He's gone, love. The bastard can't hurt you. I won't let him hurt you." Warren holds him tightly, softly kissing the auburn hair resting on his shoulder.
"Non, I ain' 'kay," Remy replies honestly. It's amazing. He can longer hide his pain from his lover. Warren found a way into his heart weeks ago.
"Anything I can do?" Warren offers and shifts his glance from Remy to the wolf who's stretched out on the foot end, watching them alertly. He shivers. Sometimes it feels like that wolf is constantly keeping an eye on them. Must be his imagination.
"Non," Remy whispers and deeply inhales his lover's soothing scent. Being in these strong arms is a dream come true. "Why come after me now?"
"Don't know, Rem." Feeling powerless, Warren presses a kiss on his lover's brow. "Do you really think he will be back?"
"Oui," Remy nods his head. "Wolvie surprised him. Next time, he will be prepared." The Antiquary won't give up easily.
"Then we must be ready for him." Warren sounds steadfast. "How can we fight him?"
"We can'," Remy says distressed. "He's a sorcerer, ange. He'll find us no matter where we hide."
"I'm not planning on hiding," Warren states resolved. "There has to be a way to take him down." Staring out of the window, he shivers at the darkness outside. They've to get through the night unharmed. "Maybe the X-Men?"
"Non!" Remy tries to break free of the protective embrace, which suddenly suffocates him. "Don' want deir help. Don' need it!"
"Stubborn Cajun," Warren chides him affectionately. "But seriously, Rem, we need to think about our defenses." Remy's emotional struggle causes his heart to beat louder.
"Why not let him take me?" Remy whispers in an unguarded moment. "Can' stand de t'ought of you gettin' hurt 'cause of dis." He realizes his mistake the moment Warren's angry eyes lock with his. "Forget I said dat," he whispers strangled. "Ain' t'inkin' straight."
"I never want to hear such nonsense again!" Warren shakes his head in disbelief, but draws in his breath as the wolf growls, slowly getting to his feet again. Does that mean that the bastard is on his way back? Shit! "Rem?"
"It's him," Remy mutters calmly. "We'll fight him, cher," he promises, all thoughts of surrendering are gone. "I want to be wid you and only you?"
"Good." Warren shifts on the bed and pulls Remy with him. Determinedly, he swings his feet onto the floor and stands defensively next to his lover. "We'll find a way, love."
If only he shared that hope! But he knows the true extent of the Antiquary's power. He tried to escape before and always paid a terrible prize for his rebellious streak. "Je t'aime," he whispers and grabs hold of Warren's hand. No matter what happens next, he won't let go.
The wolf stands rigid; ears low in his neck, teeth bared, yellow eyes flashing. Warren can't help but smile. "It's three against one," he says softly.
"Wolvie must sense him." Remy gathers the cards still left in his coat to use against his old nemesis.
A dark cloud takes shape in front of the bed and Warren holds on to his breath, recognizing their despised enemy. Is it a blessing or a curse that he can't see the man's face? "Leave us alone!" he spits infuriated and spreads his wings. He's grateful that one of the first things professor Xavier taught him was to manoeuvre in small spaces.
"Mine," the Antiquary's sharp voice emphasises. "I should have killed you when you were little."
Remy trembles violently, but then sneers, " Bâtard!" This man is responsible for most of his pain and now that the Antiquary's back, he feels lost and out of control.
Warren tries to come up with a plan, but the Antiquary blocks their escape route. Maybe they can leave via the window after shattering it. But Remy's right. The Antiquary found them once and will find them again. This has to end here and now!
Remy charges two of his cards, knowing they can't possibly stop the Antiquary, but feeling the kinetic charge underneath his fingertips gives him a sense of safety.
"Call it back," the Antiquary demands. "Call the wolf back!"
"No fucking way!" Warren suddenly realizes that the Antiquary had ample of opportunity to attack, but the sorcerer is still stalling. "Damn, it's Wolvie!" he realizes. The wolf is keeping the Antiquary back! "Remy, get out! We'll stall him!" he whispers.
"Non, no more runnin'," Remy states determinedly. "If you go down, we go down togeder. Can' live widout you, cher." His fear grows, urging him to throw the cards and he can no longer hold back.
"Not in here, Rem!" Warren warns him. The room is much too small! A bright explosion blinds them. Luckily, Remy's hand is in his and he pulls his lover into the corridor, while the wolf continues to keep the Antiquary at bay.
"Merde! What?" Remy whispers nervously as fire burns the air in the corridor. His heart pounds madly, afraid that the Antiquary summoned help.
"Remy!" Jean-Luc exclaims worried and he quickly moves towards his son. Behind him, following close is Logan, who looks slightly annoyed at the stench of sulphur all around them.
"You're safe, my son!"
"Poppa?" Remy's voice betrays his disbelief. "Why? What? How?" Two possessive arms fold around his waist and he finds himself being pulled against Warren's chest. Suddenly, he finds himself locked in a protective embrace. He notices Jean-Luc's pleased look.
"Get him out of here, Warren," Jean-Luc orders. "He is in dere, isn't he?"
"Yeah," Warren replies instead of Remy who still looks stunned. "And the bastard wants Remy."
"I will deal with him."
Remy blinks his eyes as a third person appears in the corridor and he flinches involuntarily, seeing the flaming red eyes. "Who are you?" he whispers, fighting his apprehension.
Daimon grins. "A friend? " Ignoring everyone, he marches into the bedroom. "Time to send someone to Hell," he announces smugly.
"Take the kid into the livin' room and stay there!" Logan pushes Warren and Remy towards the staircase and follows Jean-Luc and Daimon inside. He doesn't want Remy to see this, doesn't want to add to the nightmares. They will take care of this bogie man.
"Ange? Cher?" Remy protests as Warren guides him down the stairs. He feels numb, like his mind is slowly shutting down.
"Sit down, Rem." Warren joins him on the couch. Although he's dying to find out what's happening in the bedroom, he can't leave Remy. His lover needs the reassurance, his closeness. "Your father is right, love. This is their fight, not yours. You need to heal. Killing the Antiquary won't make the hurt go away. It will only make you hate yourself."
"When did you get dis wise, cher?" Remy whispers shakily. His lover is right. Ending his nemesis' life would only add to his load of nightmares and he doesn't need them. He wants to forget about the pain and ugliness, needs to focus on Warren's love instead. "Mais I feel like a coward."
"You're not, love. You're my hero for letting them do this. Just stay with me and keep me safe, love?" Warren adds mischievously, trying to distract his lover and it works.
"Will always keep you safe, cher," Remy promises, but shivers as screams and explosions echo from their bedroom. Wrapped up in each other's arm they bide their time.

A diabolical grin is glued to Daimon's face. "You really don't know who I am," he realizes pleased. Good, this will be so much fun!
The Antiquary's voice sounds edgy and puzzled as he speaks next. "I have no business with you, move away!"
"Non!" Jean-Luc shakes his head. "I should have done dis 23 years ago! Instead, I let you hurt him!"
Logan moves into place beside him, claws extended and flashing in the moonlight. "Can I gut him now?" he whispers ominously.
"He's mine," Daimon states, leaving no room for doubt. "Your claws won't hurt him."
"Lemme try," Logan hisses, filled with anger and blood lust now that he faces the man who hurt one of his friends.
Hearing the primal rage in Logan's voice amuses Daimon. "Stand back. I need to take care of this."
"Who are you?" The Antiquary's voice trembles? a first.
"My father gave you this power and I will take it away." Daimon raises his trident, which leaks flames filled with unholy energy. Hellfire, the pure manifestation of Daimon's power. "I'm sending you home."
The Antiquary screams in agony as the flames crawl across the floor, eating his robes, eating away his flesh. The Hellfire tears soul and body apart and the Antiquary's power fades to nothingness.
Jean-Luc truly enjoys hearing the strangled yelp that follows. The Antiquary's eyes fill with unspeakable horrors as his soul prepares to travel to Hell.
The Antiquary's body combusts with Hellfire, stays aflame for mere seconds and then black ashes hover in the air, finally settling down onto the floor. His soul is lost forever, as it's impaled on Daimon's trident, riding the pain and horror, which will lead him to Hell.
Daimon grins smugly. Perfect torment awaits his victim once they arrive in Hell. There is no doubt in his mind that Jean-Luc and Logan can take care of Remy. His work here is done? for now.
Jean-Luc and Logan exchange stunned glances as both Daimon and the Antiquary disappear in front of their eyes. The distinct stench of sulphur is the only thing that remains as justice is finally done.
"Remy?" Jean-Luc almost stumbles down the stairs, eager to take his son into his arms. "It's over, petite," he whispers, instantly falling back into using the old verbal caress. "He's gone, Remy, forever."
Warren assists his lover as he struggles to his feet. It took him all this time to calm Remy down and now Jean-Luc's words cause another attack of nervous frenzy. "Love? He said it's okay. Don't do this." Soothingly, he rubs his lover's back and then allows Jean-Luc to wrap his arms around Remy.
"How can dat be?" Remy looks up pleadingly, feeling safe and sheltered in his father's arms. "We can' hurt him."
"We couldn't," Logan confirms, "But our red-eyed friend took care of our problem. The Antiquary is in Hell where he belongs." He retracts his claws, uncovers a cigar and enjoys the first inhale of tobacco. He makes himself comfortable on the couch and rests his feet on the coffee table.
Jean-Luc seeks out Warren's eyes. "I need to talk to Remy in private." Mon Dieu! There's so much to tell, so much to confess! Hopefully, Remy can forgive him!
"Can we go outside?" Remy suggests in a pleading tone. He needs to get out of here now that the Antiquary defiled it.
"Mais oui," Jean-Luc gives in and grabs a coat. "Let's talk outside."
"You goin' to stay close, cher?" Remy gives Warren a probing look.
"Call, and I will be there," Warren reassures him and watches them step outside. Only now he realizes that the wolf followed them downstairs and is now eyeing Logan suspiciously. Logan in turn gives the canine a hard look, almost bearing his teeth. "Logan! Behave! Wolvie saved our lives the first time the bastard showed up!'
"Wolvie?" Logan repeats in a condescending tone. "Wolvie? That's just fuckin' great!"

Remy continues to walk and then drops onto the cold, damp ground, resting his back against the trunk of a tree. "Is it really over?" he asks, looking up at Jean-Luc, his voice begging for the truth.
"It is, my son."
"Who was dat man? Wid de red eyes?" Remy mutters embarrassed, terrified for inexplicable reasons. Seeing those red eyes scared the hell out of him.
"Daimon Hellstorm," Jean-Luc replies. Seeing no recognition in his son's eyes he adds carefully. "He says he is Satan's son?"
Remy flinches. "De devil? Mon Dieu?" His old fear resurfaces. Can it be that?? "Am I related to him?" he asks helplessly. "De eyes."
"Non," Jean-Luc sits down next to him and takes hold of his son's hand, rubbing it. "He told me some things?"
"What t'ings?" Remy's scared to ask, but the look in Jean-Luc's eyes is encouraging.
"Dere's so much I need to tell you, petite and I fear you will hate me eventually."
"Never!" Remy promises passionately. "Will never hate you, poppa."
"Remy, you don't know?"
"What?" This time it's Remy who turns Jean-Luc's hand in his so he can caress the palm with soothing strokes. //Have got to be strong now. I always knew we would have dis talk one day, mais why now? I feel fucked up and too tired to deal wid dis!// But knowing this has to come in to the open, he nods his head.
"Remy?" Jean-Luc swallows hard. Can he really do this? Can he tell Remy the horrible truth? Admit his ultimate failure? He throws back his head in defeat, knowing there is no way out.
"Poppa?" Getting concerned, Remy moves a little closer. He has never seen Jean-Luc this upset, never. Not even that night when he went up to his father's room to test him by offering himself to Jean-Luc.
"De Antiquary," Jean-Luc starts with distinct discomfort in his voice, "ordered me to steal you from de hospital, Remy." He can't bear to look into his son's eyes, fearing loathing and hate. "My wife was very ill and Henri needed her so much. De Antiquary promised to heal her if only I handed you over to him. I did his bidding. Stole you and delivered you into his hands. I'm so sorry, Remy." His voice fails him in the end and tears form in his eyes. Remy hasn't spoken yet, but suddenly he realizes that his son's agile fingers are still rubbing his knuckles, something he never expected.
"Remy?" Finally, he finds the courage to face his son. "Petite?" Oh, he knows he lost the right to call Remy that, but he clings to the hope that his son will forgive him.
Taking a deep breath Remy plunges right ahead. "I've always known dat, poppa."
"What?" Jean-Luc jumps to his feet, shaking off Remy's hand. Standing rigid, he stares into sad red on black eyes. "What did you say?" He must have misheard! Did Remy really say that??
"I've always known dat you gave me to him," Remy whispers, lowering his eyes. His fingers fumble the fabric of his coat. His newly discovered power tells him how upset Jean-Luc really is.
"Impossible!" Jean-Luc backs a few steps away from Remy, eyes wild, wringing his hands nervously. "Dere's no way you can know?"
Slowly, Remy rises to his feet. His eyes peek at Jean-Luc's. He desperately wants to close the distance between them, but Jean-Luc won't let him. They have to talk this through first. "De Antiquary told me," he admits in a calm tone.
"He did what?!" Jean-Luc calls out in distress. "He told you?" Is his heart still beating? Is blood still flowing through his veins? He feels paralysed. "De bastard!" His rage explodes and he slams his fist into the tree trunk. Mon Dieu, it hurts and it's just what he needs to ground him to reality. "De bastard told you? What did he tell you?"
"When I was? 5?" Remy looks up questioningly. "You came to talk to him."
"Oui," Jean-Luc realizes with a start. "I was determined to get you out of dere."
"He had me in de back room." Remy cradles Jean-Luc's bruised hand in his. "When you left, he?" he wavers briefly, "he told me dat you were de reason why I was livin' wid him."
"Merde!" Jean-Luc's eyes grow unfocused at hearing this admission. He never realized just how badly he fucked up back then! "Mais?"
Remy reads the questions in his father's eyes and fatigued, he continues his explanation. "I hated you. Hated you every time he hurt me and den? I managed to get 'way from him and ran. I ended up on de streets, mais you know dat."
"Picking my pocket was no coincidence?" And damn! He always thought he had set Remy up and now it turns out to be the other way around? He can't believe this!
Remy shrugs his shoulders. "I didn' recognize you at first. It was years since I saw you and when I realized who you were it was too late." Remy licks his lips and sighs. "I was so afraid? I hated you for years and den suddenly you took me in. I didn' know what to make of dat."
Sudden understanding flashes in Jean-Luc's eyes. "You thought I was just like him?" Inwardly, his emotions are raging, his anger foaming.
"Oui." Remy coughs nervously to rid himself of the lump in his throat. "T'ought you wanted to hurt me like he did for years. Had no reason to believe you meant well."
"Merde!" Jean-Luc leans against the tree for support. "Dat's why you were so scared?" Everything falls into place now.
"When you didn' try anyt'in', it confused me. I expected you to? you know, do t'ings to me and when you didn'?" Suddenly, he realizes Jean-Luc is crying. "Don'," he whispers, "You saved my life."
"I can't believe dis!" Shocked, Jean-Luc looks into forgiving eyes, filled with unspeakable love.
"Took me a long time to understand dat de Antiquary just tried to scare me, to keep me from runnin' away." Remy releases a chocked sigh. "Took me even longer to trust you."
"Dat night?" Jean-Luc still remembers it vividly; Remy coming up to his room, willing to surrender to his every whim. "You tested me dat night!"
Remy smiles weakly. "You never touched me like he did. You never pushed or forced me to do t'ings I was scared of? I hoped you were for real, mais I had to make sure."
"And I passed your test?" Jean-Luc doesn't bother to wipe away the tears that flow down his cheeks.
"Oui, you did." Remy's smile grows more lucid. "I was so scared you would hurt me, mais instead you just held me all night long, telling me I was safe. I finally realized I could trust you. I will always trust you."
The sheer sincerity in Remy's tone makes him choke up. "Petite," he whispers affectionately. "I? will never forgive myself for giving into his demands. I destroyed your life? took you away from your parents?" Remy flinches and it hurts to see the expression in the younger man's eyes.
"I forgave you dat night, poppa. Now, it's time to forgive yourself." Remy can barely bear the sadness and self-loathing in Jean-Luc's eyes. "He played you. I know dat now. Forgive yourself, poppa."
"I can't," Jean-Luc states. "Not yet." The pain is too deep. How the hell can Remy forgive him for screwing up his life?
"You love me, poppa. It's bien," Remy whispers soothingly and wraps himself up in Jean-Luc's arms. "Please hold me like you used to?"
"Mon Dieu," Jean-Luc chokes out, struggling for breath and returns the embrace, returns the trust and nearly drowns in Remy's love, which suddenly covers him like a warm blanket. "You're mon ange, petite." The words remind him of another thing he has to tell Remy, but he can't do that now, can't tell Remy about his special soul. //Later,// he thinks confused. //I will tell him later. Now I need to hold him. He forgives me? Mon Dieu, he forgives me?//

Warren's surprised to find that the silence that settled onto the room doesn't feel uncomfortable at all. Actually, it's amusing to see Logan and the wolf try to stare each other into submission. It's a draw, as they both refuse to give up.
"Are you and Jean-Luc going to stay for a while? I think Remy would like that," Warren asks curiously, realizing that he would like them to stay too.
"Ain't sure, Wings," Logan grumbles, displeased that the wolf is still maintaining eye contact. He's starting to like the canine; it has got guts. He also clearly remembers the fact that the wolf did his best to fight off the Antiquary.
"You're more than welcome here," Warren assures him, knowing it's the truth. Being with Remy has put him more in touch with his own true feelings and damn? //I love you for it, Rem!//
Growing uneasy, Logan continues to stare at the wolf. "Yer doin' a great job with Remy, Wings."
"Thanks, but Rem is doing most of the work. Can't believe I ever hated him." Warren peeks outside and his heart leaps in his chest, seeing the two Cajuns hug tightly. "Remy needs his father right now."
Logan blinks? and so does the wolf. Logan cocks his head, so does the wolf. "The little?" Logan swallows down his next word, as the wolf strolls over to him, still studying him. "Impressive," he whispers at the wolf. "Ya keep them safe, ya hear?" It almost looks like the wolf nods his head and Logan breaks the connection.
"There are some things ya don't know, Wings. Remy will tell ya. He's going to need yer support." Logan follows the direction of Warren's glance and smiles, as Jean-Luc and Remy return to the house. "We won't stay long, Wings. Maybe the night, but? I need to take care of some things." //Like finally talkin' to the Cajun about our relationship.// It's important he finds out, especially since learning about the death of Jean-Luc's wife.

Jean-Luc still can't believe how forgiving Remy is. Can't believe the amount of love reflected in those red eyes. Just before they arrive at the doorstep, he stops Remy. "If you want to find your parents, son? I will help you? If you want my help."
Briefly, Remy wavers. "Non," he says eventually. "You're all de family I need. You and ange. I don' want to drag de past into de present."
Jean-Luc accepts his son's decision and then makes another important one of his own. "Mebbe Logan can be part of de family too?"
A wicked smile flashes in Remy's eyes. "I had dis feelin', mais?" His smile erupts into sweet laughter. "You love him?"
"Oui," Jean-Luc admits in a heartbeat.
"I'm happy for you, poppa."
And then Remy does something that takes away his last remnants of pain and quilt. Remy places a gentle kiss on his brow. //Mon Dieu, I did dat every time he came to me, crying and hurting?//
"You goin' to stay?" Remy opens the door, eager to return to his lover.
"De night? If dat's okay with you?" Jean-Luc feels terribly light-headed. A horrible burden has been lifted from his shoulders. A burden he carried too long. "It's been too many years since I had some Guinness. Got a feeling Logan might join me for a beer or two in Dublin. You had de right idea, petite. Being out here with de one you love is? heaven." //Merde! Still need to tell him!// Every time he thinks of heaven or angels his thoughts keep returning to his son.
Remy smiles as the wolf walks up to him, giving him a determined look as if to make sure he's fine. "Mon ami, merci again." The wolf defended him twice against the Antiquary. For a brief moment, it feels like a wave of amusement flows into his mind, like the wolf is saying; 'you're welcome.'
Remy shakes his head, still enjoying the wave of amusement. "Dis is so weird."
"What is?" Logan ventures and gracefully accepts the coffee Warren's just brought into the living room. He's stunned to realize how much Warren has mellowed. //There's hardly any trace left of Mr. Angry. Must be the kid's doin'.//
Jean-Luc warms his hands on his mug. "Oui, what is?"
"Since a few days, I?" Remy hesitates. "I let go of de charm?"
"Magic," Warren corrects him in a mocking berating tone. "Magic."
"Remy?" Jean-Luc looks up confused. As long as he can remember losing control of his charm has been Remy's biggest fear. Remy's eyes reveal wonder and Jean-Luc keeps quiet to give his son a chance to reply.
"Warren didn' jump me, poppa. De Antiquary lied? de charm didn' make him hurt me. He was just a sick bastard!" Remy lowers his eyes, staring at his hands. A moment later, Warren's right hand sneaks into his, squeezing them gently.
"Magic?"
The voice startles Remy and he leaps to his feet. "Who?" Then he remembers what Jean-Luc told him; Daimon Hellstorm, son of Satan and the man is now standing in his living room. Something flares in his mind and he sways on his feet.
Concerned, Warren pulls him back onto the couch, disliking the sudden paleness. "Rem?"
"Don't worry," Daimon says, keeping his distance. His trident's gone. His eyes are still red, but no longer aflame. "It's an instinctive reaction to evil."
Confused, Remy looks at the stranger, whose eyes seem so fucking familiar! "Evil? You? Mais you fought him?"
Daimon's smug grin returns. "And he will remain in Hell, paying for what he did."
"Hell?" Remy squeezes Warren's hand. "Poppa told me dat? dat we're not?"
Warren watches the exchange closely. Logan filled him in on Daimon's identity and his reason for being here. As far as he is concerned the Antiquary got what he deserved.
"We're not brothers," Daimon replies, knowing only too well what question haunts the young Cajun. "Maybe the Antiquary mistook you for me. I don't know." Daimon makes his decision and walks up to Remy, whose shivers grow more intense the closer he gets. Daimon extends his hand. He's not going to tell Remy how special his soul is, but he wants that angelic part of his soul to fully awaken.
His hand trembles, but he puts it into Daimon's. Briefly, it feels like a bolt of lighting runs through his body, but as sudden as it started, it's gone.
Daimon nods his head. "I'm done here. You've got to figure out the rest yourself, Remiel? Remy."
Hearing that name Remy's eyes grow big. "How do you know??"
"You'll find your answers like I did," Daimon assures him and then looks at Jean-Luc and Logan. "Do you want me to drop you off some place?"
Jean-Luc quickly shakes his head. He disliked travelling the dark dimensions Daimon used to get them here.
"Good." Daimon turns up the collar of his long cloak and walks towards the doorway. Looking over his shoulder one last time, he realizes that this time he did manage to defeat evil.

 

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