Title: Shadows
Author: Morgana (morganalebeau@yahoo.com)
Website: http://www.oocities.org/morganalebeau/
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Shadows 3 - Westchester
By Morgana
A week had passed since Remy had spoken with Jean-Luc in the cemetery and he had taken the Patriarch's advice to heart. He was trying to let go of the guilt. Deep down inside his heart he knew he wasn't to blame for either the deaths of his friends or the Morlocks, but his head was telling him differently and convincing himself he was just another victim was a constant struggle.
Ain' it strange... in a certain way Sinister and poppa said de same t'ing. I understand why poppa said it, 'cause he wants to help me, mais Sinister? Must have been my empat'y affectin' him, it's de only t'in' I can come up wit'. Mais why want me stron'? Mais oui, it ain' like I'll ever be a t'reat to Sinister and he wants me 'live, wants me 'live for my DNA, told me so. Dis ain' workin', Remy. You're drivin' up to de mansion's gates and you still don' know what to do or to say. Pat'tic...
He was driving a brown jeep up to the gate, fully aware that several security cameras were locking onto the vehicle. It wouldn't take the X-Man on monitor duty long to figure out his identity. Mais will dey lemme in or send me' way 'gain? Sinister and poppa said not to stay if dey don' want me... mais where to go? I can hide in one of poppa's safe houses, go back to bein' a Guild Thief, mais I want so much more... I want a home.
Reaching the gate, he stared at the closed entrance. The doors were firmly shut. Looking to his right, he stared straight into the lens of the camera. He took a deep breath and cocked his head. "Salut, mes amis, Gambit's back."
///
"Impossible!" Jean stared in disbelief at the monitors. She hadn't recognized the jeep, but she definitely recognized that voice. "Remy?" She jumped to her feet; calling Scott and the professor telepathically, telling them she was allowing Remy inside and hurrying down to meet him.
Jean, wait! Scott cursed; he was in the middle of a training sequence in the Danger Room when he received her thoughts. "Logan, shut down the program!" He terminated another imaginary Brood soldier and headed for the exit. Jean, wait, are you sure it's Gambit?I'm sure, Jean replied, not slowing down one bit while running toward the driveway where Remy's car was pulling up. Feeling the professor's presence and interest, she addressed him. Sir, I think this might get ugly. Rogue, Betsy, Warren and Storm are all here and I don't know how they'll react to finding him here.
I'm on my way already, Charles informed them. Try to keep Remy near the jeep. Scott, join us there. Logan, find Bobby and divert the others from Remy's arrival.
Logan shook his head. "Come on, Ice Cube, we gotta make sure Gumbo doesn't get ripped apart." During the last few weeks two camps had formed. One group consisted of Rogue, Joseph, Betsy, Warren and Storm. Whenever Remy's name was brought up, they seemed content that the Cajun had been left behind in Antarctica. Logan had been shocked to find out that even his old friend Storm agreed with Rogue. He had always thought that Storm considered Remy her kid brother, but things had changed.
The other camp, consisting of the professor, Scott, Jean, Bobby, Hank and himself, felt that a great wrong had been committed when the team hadn't gone back to check on Remy. Jean and Scott had even flown back to the Citadel, but had been shocked to find it empty. Remy had vanished, without a single trace.
Bobby shifted from ice form to normal and fell into step beside Logan. "How do you plan on distracting them?"
"We'll come up with somethin', bub."
///
Although his shields were at maximum, Remy still felt the commotion his arrival had caused. Xavier, Jean and Scott hurried toward him and he mentally prepared himself for their rejection. After all, he hadn't announced his visit and they had been convinced that he was dead. Forcing himself not to reach out with his empathy, he tried to read the expressions on their faces, but that proved harder than expected. Scott's face revealed no emotion at all and the professor appeared calm and in control as always. Only Jean's face was an open book and he felt her warmth and affection as it gently battered against his shields.
Jean was the first to reach him and although he knew she was glad to see him, her hug still surprised him. She wrapped her arms tightly around him and pulled him close.
"Remy, we... how did you survive?" Jean smiled reassuringly, sensing how hard coming home was on him. "I missed you, Cajun, missed your pranks, chatter and flattery."
"Jean..." Remy couldn't manage any more words, as his emotions got the better of him. Jean's feelings were incredibly strong and urging him to lower his shields, which he did involuntarily. Mon Dieu, she's really glad to see me!
Of course I am! Jean suddenly realized what was happening. Remy? You've never allowed me in your mind like this before. Jean cringed, as Remy's defenses slammed into place again, but for a moment, she had seen the shadows that made his life miserable. Too little time... too little information!
Jean? I'd like to talk to Gambit as well. Amused, Charles let his hoverchair move towards Remy until he could rest a hand on the young man's shoulder. He doesn't look healthy; dark circles under his eyes, too pale, too thin... but he feels so strong! I never felt his telepathic talent before... and his shields, my God, how did he get them this strong?
"M'sieur," Remy whispered, respectfully. He felt relieved as Jean let him go. Her embrace had felt like a death-grip, like she had been afraid he would disappear the moment she let go. His gaze shifted from Jean to the professor and he relaxed slightly, seeing the acceptance in Charles' eyes. Charles wanted him here, wouldn't tell him to leave. "Hope me comin' back doesn' create problems?"
"We'll deal with any problems," Charles assured him. "Jean's right. We missed you."
Remy finally managed a weak smile. "Merci, m'sieur, wasn' sure I was welcome, me..."
So far, he had successfully managed to avoid Scott's gaze and he kept his eyes stubbornly locked on either Charles or Jean. Sinister had been right. Emotionally, he was a disaster waiting to happen and no matter how strong his defenses were he would always be prone to emotional breakdowns.
"It's a damn pity that you doubted you'd be welcome," Scott remarked, trying to catch Remy's elusive gaze. "I'm sorry that I wasn't at this mockery of a trial, but... you didn't deserve any of it."
Remy's breath hitched. Had Scott really said that? Why had he doubted Jean and Scott wanted him here? Hadn't they been to Antarctica to check on him? Mon Dieu, he was so tempted to ask them why they had visited the Citadel, but he couldn't. "I'm glad to hear I'm welcome, me," he whispered, still avoiding looking at Scott's visor. It was distressing that he could never see Scott's eyes and he was too afraid to use his empathy to find out if Scott was sincere.
"I've got to be honest with you, though," Scott said, while exchanging a glance with the professor. "There are some team members that won't be thrilled to see you."
"I expected dat..." Remy felt at a loss. Had he done the right thing by coming here or...?
"Ah can't believe Swamp rat's back!" Rogue was the first to leave the mansion, quickly followed by Betsy and Warren.
Scott caught the helpless look on Bobby's face. Bobby had done his best to distract them. "It's okay, Bobby," he whispered softly and stepped up closer to Remy, who oddly enough backed a step away from him. Why? Why is he so eager to maintain this distance? It had been a rhetorical question, but it got answered anyway.
Maybe he's afraid to get hurt again? He trusted us once and we didn't come through, Jean sent. She was monitoring Remy's reactions as well and found them alarming. The shields, his defenses were incredibly strong and yet a compelling vulnerability clung to Remy that urged her to protect him.
"Yes, he's alive, but not thanks to you, Rogue." Scott moved to stand in front of Remy, effectively blocking Rogue's path. "You know how I feel about you leaving him."
"Come on, Slim!" Warren interjected. "The thief deserved it! He gathered the Marauders and led them into the tunnels!"
"But he also told us that he regrets ever making such a mistake," Hank pointed out. He had been working on his research when Bobby had warned him that Remy had returned and he had left his lab at once.
"And that makes it all right?" Rogue shook her head. "Gumbo should have told us when he joined the team!"
"Then why don't ya tell us what ya did 'fore ya joined the X-Men?" Logan countered.
Charles' face contorted. He hated seeing them fight like this, they were supposed to be a family! "Remy will stay," he announced, ignoring Rogue and Warren's anger. "Remy, I suggest you stay at the boathouse for now." But Charles sent Scott, Jean and Remy a slight different message. That way everyone will get a chance to heal. We have to work this out before we can function as a team again. And Remy? Don't take this the wrong way, but you need to gain some weight and to start working out. I'll put you on the inactive list until you pass Henry's medical exams. I'm not punishing you by sending you to the boathouse, Remy... I just want you to recover completely before you go on another mission.
But Jean saw Remy flinch. Remy, the professor is being honest. This isn't meant as punishment.
Remy bit his bottom lip, wishing he could believe them. "Bien, I'll stay at de boathouse for now."
"Jean, why don't you help Remy settle in?" Scott smiled thankfully, as Jean nodded her head. He had to straighten out this situation; he had to find a way for them to be a family again.
///
"It's been so long since Scott and I stayed here... I'd forgotten how quiet it is." Jean finished restocking the food supplies and joined Remy in the living room where he was building a fire. "Remy, can we talk?" She had to be tactful now or he would cut off the conversation before it really started.
"Mais oui, chère, we can talk." Remy collapsed onto the couch and stared at the burning wood. This wasn't the homecoming he had planned.
Jean sat down beside him and tried to read the expression in his red on black eyes, but damn, Remy was always so hard to read! "Your shields were down... only a fraction of a second, but I saw some things," she said honestly. Remy's head jerked back and she felt his fear. "I'm not going to tell anyone, but maybe you need someone to talk to?"
"What did you see, Jean?" Non, this couldn't be happening! What had she seen? What dark secrets did she know?
"I saw Sinister..." Jean refused to let go of his eyes, keeping them prisoner. "He rescued you in Antarctica, didn't he?"
That was it? Remy forced himself not to sigh relieved. "Oui, he helped me."
"Remy... why are your shields this strong?" Jean raised her hand to place it over his, but Remy jerked his hand back and she didn't try again. "I always suspected you were a telepath... especially after you threw Betsy out of your mind; which she fully deserved as far as I'm concerned by the way... care to tell me the truth?"
"You know 'ready, don' you?" Remy shrugged his shoulders. Everything was falling apart!
"You're an empath as well as a telepath, aren't you? Remy, do you know how special it is to have that many gifts?"
"Special?" Remy shook his head. "More like a curse."
Jean licked her lips; the hardest part was yet to come. "Remy, do you trust me?" Remy's eyes widened and she sensed his rising panic. "Do you?" She hated pushing him, but she didn't have a choice. She had to do this now.
"I don' know chère... I t'ought I did..." Feeling lost, he stopped fighting her. "Everyt'in' changed after Antarctica. Rogue left me, de X-Men didn' come back and left me dere to die... mebbe I deserved it... did I?"
"No, you didn't deserve being left there by Rogue. When we found out what she had done, we were furious. Scott even wanted her off the team. She's now on the inactive list as well. Scott no longer trusts her..."
"Never t'ought Cyke would pick my side..." Remy whispered surprised.
Jean smiled and finally managed to pin his right hand with hers. "I know that Scott sometimes seems arrogant, like he doesn't care, or as Logan once phrased it, like he has a rod up his ass, but he does care. Scott's a good man. He's just really bad at showing his feelings." Remy's eyes glowed softly and she gently squeezed his hand. "You trust me, don't you?"
"Oui, I guess so..." Remy suddenly realized that she had gotten hold of his hand and wondered why she was this close. And why are we talkin' 'bout Scott? Mon Dieu, she didn' see... doesn' know... Ai, my shields were down... non, she can' know...
"You have been in love with him for all these years and you hid it perfectly. I never suspected anything," Jean said gently, rubbing his knuckles. "You've got good taste in men."
Remy's eyes bulged. "You know..." He had better pack his stuff again and leave. He couldn't stay here if she knew the truth!
"Too bad he's already married, huh?" Jean squeezed his hand again, trying to reassure him. "Thanks for never making a move on him... You must have been tempted."
"Non, not really," Remy whispered, embarrassed. "Scott loves you, only you. I fought dat crush..."
"And turned to Rogue instead... you know that was a dumb thing to do?" Jean felt his shields fluctuate again and caught a small glimpse of all the restraint he had practiced these years. "You pursued Rogue because she was safe. You couldn't touch her and your empathy told you that she didn't want to go all the way either. It was a perfect distraction, Remy. Pretending to love Rogue allowed you to mask your true feelings, but it backfired, didn't it?"
"Tried to love her, me," Remy objected. "She reminded me of myself. My powers were outta control once and I wanted someone to help me. I wanted to be dat someone for Rogue. I didn' use her!"
"I never said you did," Jean quickly reassured him. "Remy, look me in the eyes."
Remy obeyed reluctantly. "Are you tellin' me to leave?"
"No, I want you to stay." Jean wished she knew what was going on in his head. "Actually, Scott should be flattered that you're attracted to him. I never thought I would say this, but I think you'd be good for him..." Jean raised her left hand and caressed his cheek. Staring deeply into his eyes, she nodded her head. "I hope you'll find your Mister Right when the time comes."
"Mais it won' be Scott. Don' worry, chère, I won' try a t'ing. Know he loves you, me... Value your friendship so much..."
Jean smiled. "I asked you whether you trusted me and you said yes. Remy, I trust you too." She grinned impishly. "At least now I have someone to discuss men with!"
"What 'bout Bobby?"
Jean laughed warmly. "But Bobby has a completely different taste in men! I never find his 'hunks' attractive at all. Now we can talk dirty behind Scott's back."
Remy smiled hesitantly; still afraid to believe she wasn't mad at him. "You're a great lady, chère..."
"Thank you, Remy," Jean said pleased and grinned. "I love you too."
///
"Jean, chère, don' you t'ink dat's too much soup for jus' de two of us?" She had made enough to feed the whole team!
Jean tasted the soup, making sure it tasted just right. "No, I don't think so, Remy. Didn't I tell you that you've got company for dinner?"
"You're gonna eat all dat?" Remy raised an amused eyebrow, glad their verbal banter was back to normal. Especially now that she knew about his crush on her husband.
"No, dummy, Hank, Bobby and Scott are joining us for dinner. The professor excuses himself. He really would have liked to have dinner with you as well, but he's still busy trying to settle down Rogue and Warren."
Remy lowered his eyes. "Team's really divided, non?"
"Yes," Jean admitted at once. "But it isn't about you, not really..." Seeing Remy's puzzled expression she tried to explain. "A number of things went wrong and were never dealt with. Hank was switched with the Dark Beast and we found out too late. The professor turned into Onslaught and we're still trying to learn to trust him again. Let's not even mention Rogue deserting you or Logan going berserk on Betsy. He claims she smells of evil shadows..."
"So you're sayin' dis ain' 'bout me?" Remy had a hard time believing that. He carried the soup over to the kitchen table while Jean set out the bowls and utensils.
"We have been drifting apart as a team for some time now. I'm glad you're back; it finally allows us to address the fact that Rogue left you and that no one got you out." A thoughtful expression appeared in her eyes. "I'm grateful Sinister saved your life."
Remy lowered his eyes and stared at the floor. Hopefully Sinister rescuing him was all Jean had seen in his mind when it came down to Sinister. A knock on the door pulled him from his musings and Jean got up to open the door. His empathy, although he tried to repress it, easily picked up on their guests.
Bobby entered first and immediately headed toward the kitchen table, appreciatively taking in the aroma of the soup. "Gambit, it's good to have you back, but man, I never expected you to show up like that!" Bobby sat down and smiled.
Hank hesitated to step inside, but a gentle push from Scott forced him across the threshold. "Remy..."
Remy's head jerked back, unable to block Hank's fierce emotions. "Henri?" Surprised at Hank's strong feelings, he rose from his chair and walked toward him. "Oui?" He didn't know what Hank's next move would be, but it was obvious that Hank needed to say something.
"Remy, I'm so terribly sorry... I owe you an apology, an explanation, but..." Hank was at a loss for words.
"Mon ami?" Remy's empathy sensed Hank's need for contact and he placed his hand on the blue fur. "Sorry 'bout what? You didn' do anyt'in' wrong. What's dere to be sorry for?" Baffled, he wondered about the deep guilt in Hank's mind.
"I didn't come back for you." Hank shook his head in disbelief, still trying to understand why he hadn't told them to turn the Blackbird around. "I can't justify my behavior because it was wrong. Remy, I don't know whether you'll ever be able to trust me again to watch your back, but I truly regret abandoning you in your hour of need and I vow I'll never do it again." Hesitantly, unsure if his gesture would be welcome, he extended his right hand.
"Mais, mon ami..." Remy stuttered. A moment ago the words had been easy, but now they refused to come back to him. The trut', you owe him de trut'. Remy took a deep breath and plunged in. "Oui, hoped you'd come back for me, felt lonely when you didn'... hoped de X-Men would come back for one of deir one, mais I no longer was part of de team, oui? After several hours I realized you wouldn' come back for me and I gave up... don' ask me how I survived, can' tell you."
"I'll respect that," Scott said, quickly interjecting. "We're much too glad to have you back to dig for answers that are personal to you."
Pleasantly surprised, Remy looked at Scott. Once more he cursed the visor, wishing he could read the expression in Scott's eyes. He had to risk it all... why? He didn't know why, but suddenly this was important to him. "Cyke... you ever go back to de Citadel?"
Scott nodded his head. "Yes, we went back to see if... we could help and..."
"Or to bring your corpse back to Westchester to bury it honorably," Jean finished for Scott. "We couldn't stand the uncertainty."
"If only we had been there during the trial!" Scott's voice throbbed with barely repressed anger.
Hank cringed. I know he expected me to take control when everything fell apart, but I didn't rise to the challenge... I'm no leader...
Hank don't... Jean reached out to Hank and smiled reassuringly. You were injured, remember?
It's still my fault! Hank was about to leave again, but Remy's hand came to rest on his shoulder and kept him in place.
"It ain' your fault, mon ami." For one moment he had been tempted to use his empathy to comfort Hank, but he couldn't take the chance of being found out. It was bad enough Jean and the professor knew about his mental powers. And she also knows 'bout Sinister and... my crush on Scott... please, mon Dieu, don' let her tell Scott! He already felt shy in their presence now that his secret had partly been revealed.
Mon Dieu, meeting Scott for the first time was ingrained on his memory. His empathy hadn't been that strong back then and he hadn't even consciously used it on Scott, but... Scott's mind felt like Mike's... and it still does. A great sense of justice, friendship, honor and values guided Scott on his path. He understood perfectly why Jean had fallen for him.
He had heard others on the team remark that they found Scott dull and boring, even arrogant. But true leadership came from true understanding and Scott wasn't trying to be someone he wasn't. What you saw was what you got and he appreciated that. He hated people that played head games to get what they wanted.
Out of respect for Jean and his affection for both of them he had never made a move on Scott. Scott was a married man who obviously adored his wife. Jean was Scott's life, his reason for living and he wouldn't stand a chance trying to come between them. So he settled for being friends.
"Remy? Remy?" Amused, Bobby gently kicked Remy beneath the kitchen table. "If you're not eating that soup, I will."
How long had he been lost in memories? "Oh non, mon ami, dis soup's mine." Although he wasn't hungry he emptied the bowl, suddenly realizing Hank was studying him. Reading an echo of Hank's thoughts he shuddered. "Non, I ain' settin' foot in your lab, me... non."
Hank raised an eyebrow. He let the remark slide, wondering if Remy's telepathy had strengthened during his absence. The Cajun thief thought no one knew about his mental powers, but Remy couldn't fool him. He had done too many tests and physical exams to ignore the truth. He only hoped that Remy's shields had strengthened as well.
///
Charles pinched the bridge of his nose. He had managed to talk some sense into Warren. Betsy hadn't seemed to care what happened to Remy and Storm had been strangely quiet when he had informed her that Remy was back. Seeing Ororo this emotionless worried him. But Storm presents no danger, no real danger to Remy. Rogue however does.
When he had allowed her onto the team, he had hoped to repair the damage her powers had done to her. But he had deluded himself, blaming her powers for her crimes while he should have been looking at her character. After she had absorbed Miss Marvel, her true character had emerged. Rogue claimed she was a mix of several personalities, and that she was trying to deal with their presence in her mind, but he no longer believed her. It was time to stop blaming her out of control powers for her bad judgment. She had made the decision to leave Remy and now that the young Cajun was back, Rogue was panicking. There was no way of knowing what her next move might be.
Charles poured himself some strong coffee and inhaled the spicy fragrance. He was keeping track of her telepathically, sensing her rage. He would keep a close eye on her in order to prevent this situation from escalating further.
///
"Merci for de company, mes amis," Remy said honestly. Even Logan had joined them and they were only now leaving. It was close to midnight and he felt tired after his emotional return to the mansion.
He waved goodbye to them, then closed the door. Now that they were gone the boathouse was empty and silent. He switched on the TV, tuned in to a baseball game and got a cold beer from the fridge. Sipping his beer, he tried to concentrate on the game, but failed.
Dey want me here. Hank, Jean, Scott, Bobby, Logan... de professor want me here, mais de ot'ers don'. I still can' believe dey're divided like dis. X-Men used to be a team, a family. Actually, he felt relieved that Charles had suggested he stayed at the boathouse. This way their emotions weren't affecting him. He still felt rage at the edges of his mind, but he managed easily to block it out.
After switching off the TV again, he climbed the stairs to the bedroom and removed his clothes. Only wearing his boxers and a T-shirt, he slipped between the covers. The silence and loneliness suddenly crashed in on him and he wished Napoleon were here... he would cuddle the tomcat until he fell asleep. Maybe he should get himself a pet?
A 'whooshing' sound attracted his attention and his instincts kicked in. Someone was out there... just beneath his window. Should he focus his empathy to find out who it was? What if he got caught? Remy left the bed, slipped into a bathrobe and approached the window. Cold... ice... violence... His empathy had kicked in anyway, warning him of the menacing presence outside.
Remy uncovered his deck of cards from his pants, which he had placed over a chair, and was ready to charge them, when something Sinister had once said came back to him. You can kill with a single thought. You have no idea how strong you really are. What had Sinister been hinting at? And if it was true, shouldn't he be even more careful when using his mental powers?
After drawing in a deep breath, he opened the window. "I know it's you, Rogue." Her form appeared floating in front of the window and he held his breath, seeing the dark expression in her eyes. "I survived, chère."
"Don't call me that!" Rogue remained at a distance, watching Remy closely. "How did yuh survive?"
Remy remained alert, never dropping the cards. "Why did you leave me, Rogue? It jus' doesn' make sense. You committed crimes as well."
Rogue cocked her head. "Don't really know why Ah left yuh, Remy. Yuh know how hard control is for me. Ah don't know why Ah flew 'way."
Oui, blame it on your lack of control... mais it doesn' work, Rogue.
Involuntarily, his mind went back to the time when his powers had gone berserk. "Rogue, I know how you feel, how frustrated you are dat you can' control your powers, mais you can' blame dem for desertin' me. My powers were outta control once too, mais... I still knew what I was doin'. I would never have willingly hurt anyone, mais you..."
Tears flowed down Rogue's face. "But Ah need yuh, Remy. Yuh helped me deal with this before... Yuh can' turn yur back on me. I need yuh."
"Non," Remy said softly. "You need someone to tell you it's bien to screw up 'cause your powers are outta control. Mais it no longer works dat way." Unable to repress his need to reach out empathically, he tried to touch her mind, but he was slammed back when she felt his probing. Panting softly, he looked her in the eyes. "You don' want true control, Rogue. You're a rebel at heart. Dis is who you truly are and you're happy bein' you... mais no one else is allowed to know."
Rogue had stopped crying and glared at him. "Yuh can't believe that, sugah! Of course Ah want control!"
Remy knew he was treading on dangerous grounds, but couldn't stop now. "Took me a while to figure t'ings out, chère, mais all it takes for you to gain control is to slap a Genoshan collar 'round your neck. I suggested dat once, remember?"
"Yeah, yuh did, swamp rat... 'cause you wanted to fuck me!"
Rogue's words hurt. "I would never 'fuck' you, chère. L'amour is so different from fuckin', don' you know dat? I do..." Dave and Benjamin had first shown him and later Mike had allowed him to experience making love. "Mais you don' know de difference."
"Joe makes love to me now," Rogue told him in a cold tone. "He doesn't need to collar me to make love to me!"
Tiredly, Remy nodded his head. "I hope de two of you will be happy. You'd betta treat him right, Rogue. I hope you don' try to kill him when he needs you most."
"Bastard!"
"It's de trut', Rogue, mais lookin' your demons in de eyes is always hard, non?" Remy shivered, finally noticing the night's cold. "Consider dis conversation over, me... Go back to Joe, Rogue." Remy began closing the window, but she reached out and stopped him.
"This ain't over yet, swamp rat."
"Rogue, dis ended when you left me on de ice." Calmly, he pushed away her hand and closed the window, knowing it wouldn't stop her if she really wanted to continue this. He returned to his bed, disrobed and slipped back between the sheets. The next few minutes he kept his empathy locked on her, sensing her anger and disbelief. Leave, Rogue. We're over. Merde, had he really sent that telepathically?
"Yur a liar and a traitor and Ah will keep my eye on yuh, Gambit!"
He sighed relieved when she finally flew away from the boathouse, knowing other confrontations would follow in the next few days. He tossed and turned the rest of the night, unable to get back to sleep.
///
"Rogue went to the boathouse last night," Charles informed Scott. It was still early and they were the only ones eating breakfast at this early hour. "Nothing happened," he added quickly, feeling Scott's distress. "But we need to monitor her closely."
Scott nodded his head once. "How are we going to reunite the team again, sir?"
"Wounds were inflicted and they need time to heal." Charles wished he knew the answer to Scott's question. "Don't put Remy on the active list yet. I'm not sure how Warren and Rogue will react in a hazardous situation while watching Remy's back."
"Remy seems weak..." Scott said in an unguarded moment.
"Oh, believe me, Remy isn't weak. He's very strong, though he has to work on his control. But he knows that. I think he'll greatly surprise us in the future. I sensed strength in him which I never felt before."
"I hope you're right, sir."
"By the way, Scott, how's Jean doing? I know she had a hard time when you found the Citadel empty."
"She's happy, sir, really happy to have him back." Scott smiled. Jean was happy and therefore he was happy as well. Sometimes life was so simply.
"Professor, Scott, we've got an emergency situation!" Warren stormed into the room, agitated and worried. "We just received an encoded message from Lilandra... she needs our help. She specifically asked for Jean's presence... she needs the Phoenix."
Scott's expression darkened. He had lost Jean to the Phoenix before and he feared the day would come when he would fail to reclaim her.
Charles sensed Scott's apprehension and turned to Warren. "Gather the team and that includes Rogue and Joe." He had a feeling Scott would need them on this mission. "Remy's staying with me," he clarified, seeing Warren and Scott's questioning expression. "Take everyone else with you, but Remy's staying here with me. Now get going!" Lilandra, the only woman he had ever truly loved, was in danger!
"Yes, sir!" Scott jumped to his feet and headed for the Blackbird, relying on Warren to gather the rest of the team.
Charles placed his napkin on the table and stared at the wall, recalling Lilandra's telepathic touch. Yes, something was wrong. Why hadn't he felt it before? But the X-Men would take care of the problem, as they always did. Steering his hoverchair toward the doorway, he left the mansion and headed for the boathouse to inform Remy.
Chapter Four - Xavier
Looking through the window, Charles found Remy sitting at the kitchen table, staring blindly into a mug filled with black coffee. The long auburn hair was a tangled mess and Remy's eyes were drooping shut again. It doesn't look like he got much sleep after Rogue left. If he really wanted to, he could access the security tapes and find out what their conversation had been about, but he didn't want to pry and preferred to have Remy tell him personally.
"Remy? Can I come inside?" Charles knocked on the door, giving Remy a moment to compose himself."Mais oui, m'sieur. What are you doin' here?" Remy quickly opened the door and walked the professor to the kitchen table. "Want some coffee, m'sieur?"
"Only if it's still hot," Charles teased.
Remy stared at his mug, and nodded his head. "Should stop t'inkin' dis much... 'ways gets me into trouble." Remy emptied his mug in the sink and poured them both some hot coffee. After carrying the mugs back to the table, he straddled his chair and avoided Charles' eyes. "Is dere anyt'in I can do for you?" he asked eventually, growing uncomfortable beneath Charles' studying gaze.
"I'm here to inform you that the entire team is away. Warren intercepted an encoded message from Lilandra. I don't know when they'll be back." Charles sipped his coffee and released a happy sigh. This hot, strong, black coffee was just what he needed right now. "I even sent Rogue and Joseph along."
Remy shrugged his shoulders. "Cyke will need all de help he can get."
"Very true..." Charles warmed his hand on the coffee mug, realizing how lost Remy looked. Was this vulnerability new or had it been there before and the young Cajun had just hidden it better?
"You must be worried. You love Lilandra, non? And now dere's rien you can do to help." Remy still avoided Charles' eyes, preferring to stare at his coffee. It was growing cold again.
Remy's remark surprised Charles. I should have known. He's an empath after all... he knows what I feel, knows my fears and my hopes... how did he manage to hide it all these years? "Yes, I'm worried, but I have faith in the team."
Remy nodded once. "Merci for tellin' me, m'sieur." He appreciated that Charles was telling him personally; it made him feel less left out, more part of the team. "I hope everyt'in' turns out bien, m'sieur." Startled, he felt his empathy reach out to make sure Charles was okay and not putting up a front. Seeing Charles' knowing eyes, he quickly fortified his shields and managed to pull his empathy back. "Sorry, m'sieur. Still learnin' to control it, me."
Charles smiled reassuringly. "I understand. I wish I had complete control over my powers as well, but complete control is just an illusion. Your mental powers have been growing stronger... what about your kinetic charging ability? Has it gotten stronger too?"
Remy shook his head; Sinister's image flashed in his mind. The scientist had removed the cells from his brain stem and he hoped the professor hadn't seen that particular image. Mais I'm keepin' secrets from him... 'gain. Wasn' dat what got me into dis mess in de first place?
"You can tell me, you know." Charles felt Remy's doubts, but hoped the young Cajun would confide in him. "Nothing you tell me will ever leave this room. Keeping everything inside doesn't work, Remy. It'll eat at you and eventually destroy you." Remy's thoughtful expression told him that the Cajun wanted to trust him, but Remy still feared to trust. "Why don't you take a shower, shave, and then join me in the living room?"
Remy was thankful for the time to think everything over. Maybe a shower would clear his head and help him reach a decision. "I'll join you in fifteen, m'sieur."
"Remy, it's okay to call me Charles," he said, grinning slightly.
"Even Jean and Scott call you 'sir," Remy pointed out.
"Let's try?" He wanted to cover some of the emotional distance between them.
"I'll try..." Remy barely suppressed the 'm'sieur' and climbed the stairs to the bathroom.
///
Charles used the little reprieve to put on some classic music and to make some Earl Gray. He carried the tea into the living room and put it on the coffee table. The sound of shuffling feet alerted him that Remy had returned. Remy's hair was still damp, but the dull expression had disappeared from his eyes. Taking it as a good sign that Remy had joined him, he gestured for the Cajun to sit down on the couch, offering him a cup of tea.
"Merci," Remy whispered, accepting the tea and sitting down opposite the hoverchair. He still hadn't made up his mind. First, Charles had to convince him that he was trustworthy.
"I apologize for not sitting you down earlier to have this conversation. I usually interview all new members of the team, but for some reason we never talked. Why do you think that is?"
Remy tensed. Charles had offered to talk when he had joined the team years ago, but he had elegantly maneuvered himself out of that confrontation. "I never let you," he admitted. "Didn' wanna talk."
"Why's that?" Charles smiled, pleased that Remy wasn't trying to avoid answering his questions.
"Too many secrets... t'ings I'm ashamed of." Remy startled, realizing he had decided to trust Charles with his past. Was he making another mistake or finally doing the right thing after all?
"Why don't you start with telling me one secret?" Charles suggested, almost holding his breath in anticipation of Remy's answer.
What secret was the easiest to admit to? Remy briefly closed his eyes. "Never told you I was an empat' and a telepat'."
"Why?" Charles was tempted to answer this question himself, but he knew how important it was that Remy spoke his mind. Because you didn't trust us?
"I never completely trusted you..."
"We never gave you a reason to trust us," Charles finished for him. "Is that changing now?"
"Mebbe," Remy said elusively.
"And your powers are still growing stronger?" Charles still marveled at Remy's defenses. "I can feel your strength, Remy. No matter how high your walls are, I can feel it."
Remy moistened his lips. Was it time to reveal another secret? A secret? Was it still a secret? He had hinted at it in Antarctica, but Charles hadn't been at the trial. "Powers went berserk, outta control."
"When?"
"Before I joined the team... 'most four, five years ago. I was scared I was gonna blow myself up... and take down innocents wit' me. Scalphunter found me like dat and offered me a cure."
"Sinister?" Charles held onto his calm. It was important that Remy got a chance to tell his story without being condemned for his choices.
"Sinister operated on me." Remy couldn't maintain eye contact any longer and stared at the wall. "Removed cells from my brain stem." Involuntarily, his right hand searched for the scar at the back of his neck. "Wanna know somet'in' funny?""Of course," Charles replied, sensing the fear in Remy's mind.
"Sinister said I could kill wit' a single t'ought... make a buildin' collapse jus' 'cause I wanted it." Remy flinched, and glanced at Charles. "Do you t'ink he was lyin'?"
"I don't know," Charles said, honestly. "Henry and I would have to run extensive tests on you to answer that question. Did Sinister have a reason to lie to you?"
"Non, he didn'..." So it probably was the truth! "I don' want dat kind of power."
"Remy," Charles started gently, "the X-gene does unpredictable things to us mutants. None of us get a say in what powers we have. We have to concentrate on learning to use them, deal with them and being a telepath myself, I think I can help you, teach you. I know what you're going through..."
"No, m'sieur, you don'!" Remy hissed, sharply. "You don' have any idea what I'm goin' t'rough, what Noir went t'rough, Remy or Gambit, no one knows..." Except for Jean-Luc mebbe...
Charles frowned. "Noir?"
"Should learn to keep my big mout' shut!" Remy jumped from the couch and paced in front of the window.
Charles sighed; Remy was locking him out again. Maybe Remy needed a break? "I need to check if Scott has sent a message yet. Can we talk some more during dinner?" That should give Remy enough time to calm down.
"I ain' sure you should come back, m'sieur," Remy whispered, turning his back to Charles.
"But you need someone to talk to. Try to decide how much you can confide in me, Remy. I'm a friend... try to keep that in mind." Charles steered his hoverchair toward the doorway. "If you really don't want to talk, let me know and I won't come over for dinner."
Remy didn't react and Charles left the boathouse, feeling restless and anxious.
///
The hours passed slowly and Charles actually arrived early. Knocking on the door, he inhaled the inviting fragrances of a well-cooked dinner. When Remy opened the door, Charles raised an eyebrow. The young Cajun had changed into jeans and a red shirt, which complimented his eyes. He made up his mind, Charles realized, seeing the determination in the red on black orbs.
"Please come inside, m'sieur..." Remy stepped aside to let Charles pass. He was nervous, unsure why. Maybe it was because he had decided to answer Charles' questions without holding back?
"Smells great," Charles complimented him as he ventured into the kitchen.
"Rien de fancy, m'sieur, jus' steaks, mashed potatoes and greens..." Remy blushed, seeing Charles' nod of approval. He picked up their plates and carried them over to the table. "Bon appetite..."
Charles smiled, tasting the steak. "Just the way I like it."
Some of the tension left Remy's body at hearing the compliment. He barely managed to eat a few bites himself, still feeling nervous. "What else do you want to know, m'sieur?"
"Who's Noir?" Charles placed knife and fork on the plate and waited for Remy's answer.
Remy bowed his head, staring at the barely touched food on his plate. "Dat's my real name." Bien, I'll tell him everyt'in'. "When I was born Sinister killed my mère, wantin' me for his experiments himself, mais Jean-Luc stole me from de hospital 'cause de Antiquary wanted me for his Velvet Ministry. De Antiquary's a telepath who feeds on mutants to stay 'live. When I was nine I escaped and ended up on Bourbon Street where I prostituted myself. I ran into Jean-Luc when I was tryin' to score some dope and he took me in."
"What?" Charles blinked his eyes. What had Remy just told him? "You prostituted yourself at nine years old?"
"Had to survive somehow, m'sieur. Didn' know much 'bout de real world when I got 'way from de Antiquary... Lookin' back, I t'ink Philippe, my pimp, took advantage of me, mais..." Remy tried to fight back his tears. Merde, why was he always this emotional?
Charles was still trying to deal with everything Remy had just told him. "Sinister killed your mother and Jean-Luc stole you from the hospital?" He knew about Jean-Luc, Remy had mentioned the Cajun a few times, but learning that Sinister had been present at Remy's birth worried him. "I don't know what to say... that's horrible, Remy."
Remy shrugged his shoulders. "It's in de past, m'sieur."
"But the past will always be with you," Charles reasoned. Should he offer comfort by touch? He wasn't a very tactile person, but Remy seemed to need physical reassurance. Slowly, he rested his hand on Remy's. Remy flinched at the touch and Charles almost pulled back, almost... Suddenly Remy's defenses went down and Charles sucked in his breath, catching a glimpse of Hugo flipping Remy onto his stomach. "I never knew... never suspected."
"Poppa and tante t'ink I'm too good at hidin' t'ings," Remy offered apologetically, staring at Charles' hand. "Why else do you wanna know 'bout my past?"
Charles took a deep breath. "I want to understand you."
Remy laughed sharply. "Understand me? M'sieur, I don' even understand myself!"
"We'll work on that," he said, smiling. "Remy, is there anything else I need to know before we start working on your powers?"
Remy gave Charles a thoughtful look. He didn't have that many secrets left and he simply couldn't tell Charles that Sinister was his father. Can' tell him I'm in love wit' Scott eit'er... "Don' know, m'sieur... you got any questions?"
"Why did you come back?"
That question almost made him nauseous. "T'ought you wanted me here... change your mind, m'sieur?"
"No, I'm glad you're back, but I want to know why you came back. The X-Men didn't offer you any reason to return to the mansion. What are you looking for here? What are you hoping to find?"
"A home?" The words left his lips unintended.
Charles smiled. "That's what I hoped you'd say, Remy." Squeezing Remy's hand, they finished dinner. Remy had taken the first step and Charles felt confident he could help Remy control his mental powers.
///
"Good morning, m'sieur." Remy shyly entered the professor's study. He had only come to the mansion because everyone else was gone.
"Remy, come inside." Charles tried to mask his uncertainty, but he was fairly sure Remy picked up on it. It was hard for one telepath to fool another, especially if that other was an empath as well.
"You're worried," Remy realized, wishing he could stop blurting everything out. One day he would make a really stupid remark and find himself in a lot of trouble. "Is it de team? Lilandra?"
"Lilandra's fine. I managed to contact her telepathically."
"Den you're worried 'bout someone on de team?" Remy hadn't intended to probe Charles' mind; it happened subconsciously. "Jean?"
"The Phoenix..." Charles wondered how to tell Remy. "They needed the Phoenix to help and Jean... she's become a part of the Phoenix and is now roaming the universe. They're trying to contact her, but Scott..."
Remy collapsed onto a chair. "She loves Scott... he can pull her back."
"Not this time," Charles said, saddened. "I don't have the details, but Scott sounded distressed, like he'd given up."
"He'll find her, m'sieur," Remy offered.
Charles sighed, not sharing Remy's faith. "Let's hope for the best, Remy." The thought of losing Jean to the Phoenix saddened, even angered him. But he had always known this day might come. The Phoenix and Jean shared a tight connection and the power was consuming her, stripping Jean of her humanity, not even leaving the core of her personality intact. Scott feared he might have lost her permanently this time, and when Scott worried, he worried.
///
Remy was taking a nap, a luxury he seldom indulged in, when a soft tapping sound began to echo in his mind. It sounded like someone was gently knocking on the door, but when he opened his eyes, his empathy told him he was alone at the boathouse.
Remy?
Merde, what was that? M'sieur? Why was Charles contacting him telepathically? Wasn't it easier to make a telephone call? And why the tapping? Or was it Charles' way of making sure the telepathic contact was welcome? Somet'in' wrong? Any news from de team?
No, not yet... Remy...
Charles' hesitance puzzled Remy. Oui, m'sieur?
I need to get out of here. Waiting for news is driving me insane... there's nothing we can do and I was wondering... would you join me for dinner? I know a nice French restaurant and...
La Petite Crevette? Know dat restaurant... been dere myself... good food. Oui, m'sieur, of course I'll join you. Promptly, his stomach began to growl softly.
Meet me in the hall in fifteen minutes?
Bien sur, m'sieur. Suddenly the professor's mind voice was gone and Remy shivered, realizing he could grow used to hearing it more often; it reduced his loneliness. Remy jumped to his feet, stretched and looked at the clothes he was wearing. The jeans were hardly appropriate and he decided to dress up for the occasion.
///
When Remy arrived in the hall, he found Charles already waiting. Charles was wearing a grey suit and Remy was glad he had changed into the black slacks, grey turtleneck and black velvet jacket. "Ready to go, m'sieur?"
"Why don't you call me Charles?"
Remy avoided answering the question. "Which car you wanna take?"
"Take the Mercedes, Remy. Pull it up in front of the mansion." Charles steered his hoverchair to the right and pulled a normal wheelchair into view. After pushing himself out of the hoverchair he settled down in the normal wheelchair. "We don't want to draw attention, do we?"
"I guess not..." Remy briefly left Charles to get the car and then helped the professor settle down in the passenger's seat, collapsed the wheelchair and put it in the trunk. "Don' you hate it dat you have to hide de hoverchair?"
"I don't want people to feel uncomfortable. Isn't that why you're wearing dark glasses yourself?" Charles buckled up and Remy keyed the ignition. The gate opened and they left the mansion. "Remy?"
"Oui, dat's why I'm wearin' dem. Dey called me Le Diable Blanc on Bourbon Street and..." And the alien eyes were Sinister's legacy, his father's legacy, but he couldn't tell Charles.
"Having them caused you pain in the past," Charles summarized. "You could wear contacts."
"Non, I might hate my eyes, mais dey're part of me..." Remy concentrated on driving the car. Traffic was surprisingly heavy. "You wanna talk 'bout Jean?"
"No, not really," Charles replied, evasively. "I want to talk about you."
"You know everyt'in' dere's to know 'bout me."
"Why don't I believe that?" Charles teased, but saw Remy flinch at the same time. The young Cajun was still keeping secrets from him.
"I'm worried 'bout Jean," Remy said, changing tactics as he drove up the restaurant. He helped Charles back into the wheelchair and a waiter guided them to a table at the back of the establishment, for which Remy was grateful. It allowed them some privacy. "I 'ways liked her... hope Scott gets her back."
"We've lost Jean to the Phoenix before, but Scott has always managed to bring her back," Charles said, after they ordered their drinks. "But Scott sounded different this time... lost."
"Losin' Jean would break his heart. She's de love of his life." Remy grew quiet when the waiter returned to bring their drinks and take their orders. He didn't speak again until they were alone. "Why did you stay here? Don' you wanna help Lilandra in person?"
"Lilandra's a strong woman, Remy," Charles said gently. "And I have the utmost trust in the team."
"Even divided as dey are now?"
"Yes." Charles thanked the waiter for bringing their orders and began eating. Remy was merely poking his food. "Not hungry?"
"Not really," Remy admitted. He sipped his white wine and looked Charles in the eyes. "You don' have to take care of me. Have been doin' dat for years now."
Charles nodded his head. "I'm not babysitting you." But maybe I am, he thought privately. You seemed so emotional since your return that I almost fear leaving you to your own devices. Something's still wrong, something you're not telling me... I wish you'd stop hiding from me, Remy. But he shielded his thoughts carefully, making sure Remy didn't receive them.
Dinner proceeded in a comfortable silence while both men were busy sorting out their own thoughts.
///
Remy absentmindedly pushed Charles' wheelchair towards their car when his alarms kicked in. The hair at the back of his neck grew rigid and his whole body tensed. Charles however, was pleasantly chattering, remarking how much he liked this particular restaurant. Didn't the professor know they were being watched? Speaking aloud meant alerting their tail and the only option left was addressing the professor telepathically. But he had never before taken the initiative when it came to telepathic speech. M'sieur, someone's watchin' us.
I noticed that, Remy. Charles continued to talk, this time about the excellent food they had been served. But I don't want him to know we have discovered his presence.
Do you know who he is? Remy reached for his bo staff and cards.
Don't you, Remy? Don't you recognize his mind? You have met him before.
Remy concentrated harder and his empathy helped him find more pieces of the puzzle. Violence... rage... bloodlust... a craving for blood... so strong... Creed! Remy had barely finished that thought when Creed flung himself at him. Sharp claws flashed and he ducked out of their reach. Extending his bo staff, he charged it, and slammed it hard into Creed's midsection.
Creed barely seemed to feel the blow and laughed loudly. "Ah, we meet 'gain, Cajun. We still got unfinished business left and this time yer Daddy ain't around to fight me off!"
Remy prepared for another attack, quickly casting a glance at Charles, who had fallen from the wheelchair. He had to protect the professor and to take Creed out, but he had no idea how to do that. However, he wasn't going to give up. He charged his cards and threw them at Creed while using his bo staff to steady himself as he delivered a dropkick to Creed's head. The madman still didn't go down!
And I'm badly outta shape! It had been weeks since he had last worked out and he was no match for Creed. Physically, Creed was his superior. Remy launched another attack, trying to ignore his fear, but as Creed's claws ripped apart his shirt, his fear doubled, recalling how Creed had slashed him open in the tunnels. Losing his momentum, Remy stared at Creed as the other man wrapped his hand around his throat. Creed squeezed slowly, and Remy fought his rising panic. He had to do something or Creed would kill him first and then Charles.
Remy, don't rely on your charging power. Creed's too strong. Use your telepathy, your empathy! If Sinister was telling you the truth, you can take him on!
Mais I don' know how! Creed was still shutting off his air supply and he absentmindedly wondered why Charles wasn't helping him. Charles could probably take Creed out with a few telepathic commands.
Focus your thoughts... lower your defenses and catapult your power into his mind.
Like dat will work! But he didn't really have a choice. Creed was squeezing the life out of him, so he lowered his defenses and let his thoughts take on the outer appearance of a fist, which he slammed into Creed's mind. Suddenly, he was inside Creed's mind and he felt terrified; Creed's memories surrounded him.
Creed released him unexpectedly and Remy collapsed on to the concrete, panting for air while his mind seemed to remain linked to Creed's. Mon Dieu, I don' wanna be here! But he drifted along in Creed's memories until he reached the other man's past. There he found a young boy who had been locked in the basement. Merde, what's goin' on?
Dad locked me up in here... why did ya take me back here? Creed stared at the Cajun at his feet, feeling Remy clearly in his mind. Yer a fuckin' telepath! That explained how Remy had been able to enter his mind. Now he was back in the cold, dark basement where his father used to lock him up as punishment. I want out!
Don' know how! Remy stared helplessly at the boy, huddled in the darkest corner of the basement. Suddenly, the door opened and a bulky man descended the steps, heading for them.
"Told you a thousand times to keep your big mouth shut!" The man raised his right hand and his fist connected with the boy's jaw. "I don't wanna hear or see you, freak!"
Stunned, Remy glanced at the boy, whose eyes were simmering with rage. He beat you?
But in the end I beat him... Creed realized that he had lost the upper hand in this fight. But he had gained valuable information in return. The Cajun was a strong telepath! The telepath he had used to control his animalistic urges, Birdie, had died and he was always on the lookout for new flesh. Maybe Remy would do? Cocking his head, he weighed his chances. Should he make his move now or come back later when the Cajun least expected it?
Later. He couldn't take on two telepaths and although Xavier hadn't made a move yet, he didn't trust him. Moving quickly and soundlessly, he disappeared into the night.Remy blinked his eyes, feeling Creed move away from him. "He's gone? Why?"
Charles pulled his wheelchair close and managed to raise himself enough to slip onto the seat. "Remy, what did you discover?" Although he had felt Remy push past Creed's defenses, he hadn't been in telepathic contact with them. "You must have learned something important for him to leave like that. He looked terrified."
"He was abused as a chile'... his fat'er beat him... and..." Remy was still kneeling on the cold concrete and pushed himself to his feet. "And dere's a way to control his urges... a telepath can help him control dem..."
"Just as I suspected." But why had Creed left? Charles didn't know the answer to that question and focused on something else. "Remy, I've got to ask."
Remy nodded his head, already knowing what question would follow. Thanks to Creed, his beginning friendship with Charles would end. Charles would never want him around after finding out the truth.
"What did Creed mean when he said that your Daddy wasn't around to help you fight him off?" Charles moved his wheelchair closer to Remy.
"Creed sexually assaulted me once," Remy confessed in a shaky tone.
"And who fought him off?" Charles sensed he was getting close to the core of Remy's pain, which the young Cajun almost constantly kept hidden. He had felt that pain before and now he had a chance to deal with it. "Who fought Creed off?"
"Sinister did." Remy was tired of lying. He had better come clean now, pack and leave the mansion. Charles wouldn't want Sinister's son close.
"Sinister?" Charles repeated, baffled. "Did you say Sinister?"
"Sinister's my real fat'er... he doesn' care 'bout me t'ough... all he wants is my DNA for his experiments. Dat's why he saved my life in de past." Remy kept his eyes lowered, unable to look at Charles. Although he had just lost his home, a huge weight had finally been lifted from his shoulders. He had always wanted to share this secret with someone, but no one had ever offered to help him carry the burden. "I guess I better start packin', non?"
"No," Charles said reassuringly. "Don't run away again. I get the impression that you've been running most of your life." It was a lot to deal with though; finding out that Remy was Sinister's son. But I should have known... his eyes resemble Sinister's.
"You want me to stay?" Remy finally lifted his eyes and stared at Charles in disbelief. "You want me to stay?"
"Yes, please stay."
"Stay..." Lost for words, Remy nodded his head. "Mais you can' tell anyone!"
"It'll be our secret, Remy. You don't have to carry it alone any longer." Charles felt like they were finally making real progress. "Let's go home and check the security system. I don't want Creed sneaking up on us at home."
"You t'ink he'll be back?" Remy felt relieved at the change of topic.
"I'm not sure, but we'd better not take any chances." Charles accepted Remy's assistance as the younger man helped him settle down on the passenger's seat again. After Remy slipped behind the wheel, Charles looked at him and said, "Let's go home, Remy."
"Oui, home," Remy mumbled, pleased, and keyed the ignition. Maybe coming back had been the right thing to do after all.