Lies of the Past
Summary: The birth of Rachel Catherine Summers causes Remy to think about his past
Everyone thought he didn't know, or didn't remember, or just plain didn't care who his real parents were, but they were wrong. He wished all those things, he pretend all of them but they weren't the truth. The truth was much worse, much more tainted, and much harder to forget.
The entire mansion was celebrating the arrival of Rachel Catherine Summers. Everyone was surrounding the happy parents with well wishes and cooing at the tiny, perfect infant that had entered their world. A world filled with hate, and hurt and loneliness. A world that would despise this new harmless child from her first breath, simply because she had the X-gene. This world didn't deserve something so innocent.
He hadn't yet seen her, had denied himself such a gift. She should be welcomed by her family first; he had no right to be there, to join in their joy. He was the outcast, the loner; he had no illusions of being part of the family celebrating below. He was simply someone that they tolerated and used. He was not at all bitter about that, it was far better to be tolerated than turned away.
He brought a new cigarette up to his parted lips as he reclined his body to lie back on the roof. The stars could be seen brightly now, it had been hours since he came up. He was chilled to the bone, but had long ago stopped shivering from the cold. He smiled up at the sky as he removed the cigarette and licked his lips. The stars had always offered him comfort and companionship. Tonight they offered him an escape.
He wasn't born Remy Etienne LeBeau and sometimes he felt he wasn't that man even now. Jean-Luc had set such a standard for excellence that it was no surprise when he failed to attain it. Would Scott set the same standard for Rachel? Would she grow to resent him for it? Or would she be happy? Was it possible that perhaps this child of the gene would be happy? He certainly hoped that she would be.
He had lied his entire life. Each new untruth was worse than the last, compounding until even he was unsure of where the lies led. Even that wasn't true, simply another lie. He knew where they led; to a past he would rather forget. A past that he often pretended didn't happen. That was the biggest lie he ever told himself.
The cigarette was replaced between his lips before he once again started throwing charged cards into the air above himself and the mansion. He did it less carefully then he probably should have, but tonight he reckoned no one would notice his carelessness anyways. He watched each explode with disinterest unsure of why he continued. Unsure of why he had started at all.
He exhaled around the stick in his mouth and shuffled his deck. He always gained comfort from that simple task. He sat up and flipped through the deck, taking a moment to examine each individual card. They had become his friends long ago when he could make a claim to little else. Playing cards with him was foolish and he wondered why the people in the mansion continued to allow him a seat at the poker table. He counted them with such ease that he hardly had to pay attention at all. They simply spoke to him silently.
He imagined the child downstairs being passed around as hugs were given freely amongst the group. He wondered if she had any hair, he hoped she'd be a redhead like her mother. Her eyes, now those he feared for. He hoped that they'd be green or blue or brown; anything but the red he imagined Scott's were beneath his glasses. Anything that would pass for normal. Anything that would prevent the taunts of others from making her believe she was evil.
He read in a book once that kids start to remember things around the age of 3. He supposed it was probably best that he didn't remember anything before then. Even his own parents believed he was evil, naming him Damien after seeing his eyes. A name that meant demon; they made sure that he understood that. Sometimes they simply called him Demon without attempting any sort of illusion. Those were the better days.
He stood up and walked to the edge of the roof and threw the butt of his cigarette. His trench coat fluttered in the wind, he smiled and closed his eyes. He loved the dark, the night, the stillness. It hadn't always been that way; his nights hadn't always been peaceful. He opened his eyes and looked down at the ground. The lights on the first floor illuminated the lawn dramatically and he pictured everyone celebrating with champagne and candy cigars below pink and white streamers and an 'It's a Girl' sign. He was sure they were all happy tonight.
He briefly wondered if his own parents had such a celebration planned before they had met their demon son. Had there been streamers and signs and cake awaiting his birth? Did they know they were having a boy or had they decided to be surprised? Had they chosen a different name? A better name? One that hadn't suited their evil child? He didn't want to know any of the answers. They weren't even questions he ever pondered.
He forced the questions away as he sat down on the edge of the roof and swung his legs in the air. He was hungry, but not terribly so, not enough to relinquish his place on the roof. Still he imagined the cookies and cake and small sandwiches that the others were most likely enjoying. It was a big day; the first child of the X-Men had been born. He was glad that they were celebrating. He was glad that this child would be loved
When Jean-Luc had found him he had been 8, but the man had assumed he was 7 and in order to make his lie believable he told the man he wasn't sure. He wondered if he should tell Jean-Luc the truth, he knew it didn't matter anymore. Would Jean-Luc have done anything differently if he had known that he hadn't truly been a street kid? Sometimes he believed it would have been better had he been a street kid on that day. The things he had been forced to endure had been worse because they had been done by people who were supposed to care.
"Hey kid," a voice spoke from behind him. "Why are you hiding up here?"
"An't hiding," he assured. It was the truth, the roof was a normal retreat of his; anyone looking for him could have easily found him.
"Why ain't ya downstairs?" Logan rephrased.
He shrugged, "didn't wanna get in the way." He continued to stare out at the dark sky, but forced his legs to still.
Logan approached and sat down beside him. "Why would you be in the way Cajun?"
He had always been in the way, his entire life. He was in his parents' way of a normal life. He was in Jean-Luc's way of a union between guilds. He was in the X-Men's way of building a family. He hadn't chosen to be an outcast. That was simply the only way he knew how to live. "Today's suppose to be happy," he admitted.
"What's going on in that head of yours?" Logan asked.
"Just thought I should stay away.
"Don't ya wanna meet the kid?"
"Oui," Remy agreed, "mais not today. Today is for her family. Today is special. Ain't gonna ruin that."
"Who told you that you'd ruin anything?"
"No one," he shrugged as he pulled out a new cigarette. Logan sat in silence and Remy figured he had made his point. He scooted up the roof a little and pulled his legs up, crossing them at the ankle. "Shouldn't you get back?" he asked after a few minutes.
"Not without you," Logan stated simply as he puffed on his cigar. His body language was relaxed and he didn't seem like he was in a rush at all.
Remy hadn't realized that Logan had been waiting for him. He was confused by the gesture, unsure of its meaning. He never attended these things, birthdays, holidays; he spent most of them alone. No one had ever come looking for him before. "Why?" he asked the question as his mind struggled to come up with an answer.
"Sometimes I feel like I don't belong here either kid," Logan admitted, "but we don't got nothin if we aint' got each other, right?"
"Oui," he agreed uncertainly. "Will meet Rachel tomorrow," he assured.
"Alright," Logan said before standing up. "Just know that Jeannie was askin for ya so you better have a good excuse when you get down there."
He didn't turn around as he heard Logan's footfalls grow distant, nor when he heard the window close behind him. He sat in the now uncomfortable silence; the conversation had disturbed his solitude. He would no longer have peace tonight.
He finished his cigarette and went inside. He reached his room without passing anyone and wondered if Logan was right, perhaps he should congratulate the happy parents tonight. He pulled out the framed painting he had made for the occasion. The name Rachel Catherine was written in calligraphy amongst colorful shapes and designs. He had used the colors of Rachel's nursery to make sure it would work in the room. Still he was nervous that they wouldn't want it, wouldn't like it. He thought maybe he shouldn't give it at all. It had taken him a month to perfect; they had all known her name long before that, it had never been a secret.
He took off his trench coat and hung it on the back of a chair before changing his clothes. He resolved himself to go downstairs after all. He hesitantly took the painting with him because he didn't want to go empty handed. He avoided the party downstairs and instead went down to the medlab. His nervousness peaked as he stepped into the main lab and heard the soft cries of the tiny infant. He turned to leave, but was stopped as Jean called out believing him to be Scott.
He approached the room hesitantly and stood in the doorway before answering, "Desole Jeannie, it's just Remy."
"Remy," she smiled brightly at him as she cradled the now cooing infant. "Come in," she beckoned him with slight wave of her hand.
"Where's Scott?" He asked as he hesitantly stepped into the room.
"I sent him upstairs to join the others for a little while."
"Want me to go get him?" he volunteered.
"Of course not, he'll be back in a few minutes. Come over here and meet Rachel." She had been born early that morning, but still Remy was surprised to find both mother and daughter awake.
"She's beautiful Jeannie," he smiled as he stepped beside her bed.
"Would you like to hold her?" she offered.
"Non merci," he declined.
"What is that?" she asked curiously and he regretted that he brought the painting with him.
"It's just a painting," he admitted as he held it up, "you don't gotta hang it."
"It's beautiful," she assured, "who's the artist?"
"Just a friend of Remy's," he lied.
"It's amazing Remy, the colors will work perfectly.
"Oui," he agreed. "Remy leave you be now."
"No, stay please," she requested. "Keep me company for a while."
He nodded, "Scott will be back soon?"
"I don't think I could keep him away," she giggled. "He's quite taken by her."
He nodded. He was glad that this child would be loved. "She has your hair," he noticed the sparse red strands but forced himself not to ask about her eyes.
She smiled happily, "she's perfect," she acknowledged wistfully.
He felt like he was intruding as Jean placed a kiss on the infant's head. His eyes involuntarily filled with moisture that he forced away immediately. They weren't tears of sadness; instead they were tears of simple relief. A relief that he could not have explained had she asked. He couldn't stop staring at the tiny child as he silently vowed to protect her. He knew it wasn't necessary there were better people who would protect her, but maybe he'd be allowed to help.
"Remy she's alright," Jean interrupted his musing as she misinterpreted his silence and stare. "We're both alright. Is that what you were worried about?"
He let the question linger briefly before he forced himself to reply, "oui. Was worried, me." It was true, he had been worried, but he knew they were alright hours ago. Rachel's eyes opened and he smiled in awe as Jean's beautiful greens stared at him. "She's perfect," he whispered barely audibly as he continued to watch the miracle in amazement.
Jean giggled and his eyes looked up at hers in embarrassment of his slip. "Are you sure that you don't want to hold her?"
"Non," he declined once again, "merci."
They both looked up as they heard the door to the lab open. "How are my favorite girls?" Scott asked as he stepped into the room.
"We're great honey," she replied. "Remy's been keeping us company."
"Congratulations mon ami."
"Thanks," Scott said as he finally noticed Remy. The broad smile on his face reassured Remy. She would be loved, he reminded himself, and she would never be treated otherwise. She would never be hated like he had been. Even if she developed powers, she would never be considered a demon. She would never be convinced that she was evil.
He forced his eyes away from the beautiful child and said, "goodnight."
"Thank you for the painting Remy," Jean smiled as she glanced at where he had set it down.
He shrugged and stepped out of the room. He stepped into the elevator and felt himself coming undone. He tried to hold his breath to prevent any emotion from showing. He needed his mask to stay in place while he made his way to his room. He tried to keep his breathing even when he could no longer hold his breath. He was happy for the Summers family, the X-Man family. It wasn't self-pity that was affecting him; it was a sense of loss that he couldn't seem to control. He had never been as innocent as Rachel Catherine Summers, not even for a moment. Perhaps that was self-pity after all?
As he stepped out of the elevator he heard the noise of celebration all around him. He didn't want to be spied so he crept into the garage and started his bike. As he sped off he could hear the engine of Logan's following him. The wind bit at his unprotected skin and he wondered why he had taken off his trench coat earlier. The lens of his helmet fogged up as he was unable to hold back his emotions any longer. He couldn't stop; the sound of the engine was all that hid his sobs.
He heard Logan behind him and he pushed his bike to go faster. Logan slowed his approach in answer and after a few moments Remy slowed down as well. Logan's engine was barely audible to his ears as he pulled into the parking lot and made his way into the apartment building. The noise of the city surrounded him and he didn't spare the doorman his usual greeting as he walked through the building's lobby and into the elevator. He inserted his cardkey and the elevator took him up to the top floor where he entered the penthouse.
He left his helmet by the door and made his way to the bedroom in the dark. He shed his clothes onto the floor and curled up under the covers on his bed. He dried his eyes and tried to force himself to fall asleep. He wasn't sure why he was so upset, he didn't want to be, he shouldn't be. Her birth was exciting, happy, and wonderful. He held no ill feelings towards the small child or Scott and Jean, or any of the X-Men.
The sound of the door opening broke the silence and he knew he hadn't forced himself to sleep quickly enough. The lock was turned before he heard footsteps walk towards him. He faced the wall and buried his face in a pillow. He felt the bed shift before strong arms wrapped around him and pulled him close, he didn't fight the hold as he continued to stare at the wall.
Logan asked, "what's got you so upset?"
"She's perfect," he whispered into the air. It wasn't truly an answer to Logan's question and he wasn't quite sure that he meant it to be.
"I'm sure Jeannie was happy to see ya," Logan kissed the top of his head while still holding him close.
"Oui," he agreed, "was glad to see the petite."
"She's got Jeannie's hair," he could hear the smile in Logan's voice.
"And 'er eyes," he added.
"Yeah, she's gonna be a heartbreaker," Logan laughed as he tickled Remy's ribs.
"Stop," Remy urged as he pushed the older man's hands away.
"Alright," he conceded as he stilled his hands and once again wrapped his arms around the boy. "Why are you so upset Remy?"
Remy sniffled before speaking feeling the loss of Logan before even beginning his explanation. Had he been a stronger man he would have pulled away from Logan, but he couldn't force himself to let the man go any earlier then Logan demanded it. His heart broke as he began to whisper his admission, "I'm a liar Logan."
Logan pulled Remy closer and whispered in his ear, "we all do that sometimes darlin."
"Non," Remy tried to demand, but the word came out softly, quietly, not demanding at all.
Logan's arms tightened around him and he couldn't help squirming, "what'd you lie about?" Logan asked without any hint of accusation.
He closed his eyes and his breath hitched as he tried to force the word out. "Everything," he finally admitted as silent tears slipped from his eyes. He had finally begun to admit the truth that had plagued him most of his life. A truth that ate at his very soul; "my name ain't Remy." The words were rushed, unclear, mumbled, but he had said them.
He expected Logan to push him away, but the man's arms still remained tightly linked around him. He still couldn't force himself to pull away either. He listened to Logan quietly breath behind him and found himself calming down to mimic the steady rhythm. "We all got secrets kid," Logan finally spoke after several minutes, "I ain't demanding to know yours."
The words should have made him feel better, but they didn't. He wanted, needed Logan to demand answers. He needed to make this admission; he had waited his entire life to find someone to tell. "I wanna tell you," he exhaled the words softly and had it been anyone other than Logan they may not have been heard at all.
"Turn around Rems," Logan urged as he loosened his grip on the boy to allow it.
Remy complied and shifted to face Logan. He tried to bury his face in the others shoulder, but Logan tilted his head up so that their eyes met. He gazed at Logan through blurry eyes and was reassured by the love that shined in Logan's blues. "You can tell me anything kid," Logan assured.
Now that he had Logan's attention he struggled to make any sort of admission. His heart raced and he bit his bottom lip in contemplation before beginning. "My parents didn't abandon me," he spoke quietly knowing that Logan would hear without incident. His throat felt dry and his eyes wet as he forced himself to continue, "lived with them till Jean-Luc found me. Lied to him, told him I didn't have no one. Still haven't ever told him the truth." He averted his eyes and tried to pull away he realized that this had been a mistake, Logan didn't deserve to carry the burden of his guilt. "I'm sorry," he admitted his shame as Logan refused to let him go. This time Logan did nothing to stop him from burying his face in his shoulder.
"Don't be sorry darlin," Logan assured as he stroked his back in small circles. He smiled slightly through his tears at the comforting touch. No one else understood that there was a kind, gentle, loving side to Logan; one that the man fought to keep secret, a secret that he trusted Remy with. "You wanna tell me more?" he asked without making it a demand.
He nodded against Logan's chest; he did want to say more. He wanted to tell him everything, but he couldn't do it quickly no matter how hard he tried. "Was never allowed to call them momma or papa," he finally got the courage to whisper. "Was just monsieur and madam mais was der blood."
"I'm sorry darlin," was all Logan offered.
Remy wasn't sure what he had expected or wanted, but I'm sorry wasn't right at all. He coughed against Logan's chest and pulled away enough to dry his eyes. Logan's gripped loosened barely enough to allow him a few inches. Their eyes met as Remy took a deep breath, "de made sure I knew I was evil. Did everything they could to make it right."
"Remy," Logan's voice quivered so slightly that had it not been Remy with him the listener wouldn't have realized the slight change.
"Everyone in Nawlins knows who Jean-Luc LeBeau be. Just thought dat maybe if I steal a bit from him den dey not hate me so much. Didn't expect him to take me home wit 'em. Mais when he did it was heaven. Couldn't steal from him cause he was bein so nice so was just gonna slip out mais it was Christmas Logan and I ain't never seen so much pretty tings and was allowed to eat at da table wit dem and…" Remy's words became hard to understand as he continued. He wasn't sure who the admission was for, but he couldn't stop now that he had started.
"Breathe darling, we ain't in any rush," Logan interrupted as he wiped Remy's cheeks with his palm. "You aren't evil Remy," he assured, "it ain't right for anyone to tell ya that especially when you were just a kid."
"Dats what Papa said," Remy admitted as he looked away.
"He's right Rems," Logan emphasized, "you are not evil."
"Never believed him mais it was nice dat he lied." The sentence hung in the air as Logan shifted slightly to allow Remy to lay down on his chest. Remy started to drift reluctantly as Logan's hands ran through his hair and massaged his scalp gently.
"You ain't evil Remy," Logan repeated once again, "I'll tell ya that every day until you believe me."
"Done lotsa evil stuff Logan," Remy ran his hands across the other's stomach, just feeling, memorizing every inch with his fingertips. "Maybe de was supposed ta do dat stuff to make da evil go away?"
This time Logan didn't let the words linger at all before denying them, "they were the evil ones Rem. They were the ones abusing their own kid." Anger laced his words and Remy tried not to take it to heart. He hadn't meant to anger Logan. He frowned against the other man's chest and was confused about how to continue. Logan saved him from the task as he continued himself, "I ain't gonna let you keep thinkin you're evil."
"Don't want ya to be mad," Remy admitted sadly as his fingers resumed drawing circles on Logan's bare stomach.
"I'm not mad at you," Logan assured as he rubbed the boy's back once again. "I'm mad at them for treating you so bad. It ain't right Rems. It ain't right." He stilled Remy's hand and brought it to his lips. "You didn't deserve anything like that and you shouldn't feel guilty 'bout it now."
"You don't think it's wrong dat I lied to papa?"
"Do you really think he didn't know?" Remy's head shot up to meet his eyes as he heard the words.
"Que?" he asked as his heart began to race and his eyes widened.
"You said everyone knew him right?" Remy continued to stare at Logan, but gave a slight nod in affirmation. "Well darlin you really think he didn't figure out exactly who you were before he let ya into his home?"
"Mais if he knew why not say nothin?" Remy trembled at the possibility.
"Rem I didn't mean to make things worse," Logan's hands slipped down to his hips as Remy hovered above him. "Maybe he didn't know, but darlin either way it's not gonna matter to him."
Remy pulled away and left the room. His panic had increased at the possibility that perhaps Jean-Luc had known. Could the man have known he had essentially kidnapped him? Had the man known his parents? Did he pay them for him? Had his father simply bought him because he could steal? The possibility had never occurred to him before. He stepped onto the balcony and shivered even more. The stars he had gazed at earlier couldn't be seen as easily and the city lights didn't offer the same comfort.
"Rems?" Logan stepped behind him but Remy did nothing to acknowledge his presence. A soft blanket was wrapped around his shivering form, but Logan made no immediate move to hold him. The cold tiles seeped through his bare feet but he didn't want to reenter the apartment. He was now rocked to his very core and he felt like he was drowning. The sobs became uncontrollable before he even realized they had started. Logan held him tightly and he had no desire to fight the hold. "I'm sorry darlin," he heard the whispers over and over again but couldn't stop the emotional breakdown.
It was too much; he couldn't stop thinking about the fact that Jean-Luc, his hero, his savior, his papa could have simply stolen him for his own reasons. Could he have simply been a pawn in one more game? It was certainly possible. He shouldn't be upset; Jean-Luc had given him a life, a family, a name other than demon. "Didn't know a lick 'a English when I meet Jean-Luc," he mumbled through his tears, "didn't know much of anything really."
"Remy I'm sorry," Logan repeated the sentiment once again.
"You really think dat he bought me?" Remy didn't want to ask the question, but he needed to know if that was really what Logan was suggesting. He needed to know that the man truly thought that life had been that cruel.
"What?" Logan's voice sounded shocked by the suggestion. "Remy I never said that," he defended. "Is that why you're so upset? Kid, I just think maybe he knew what he was takin you away from. It seems like he would have looked for parents, that's all. No kiddo, I don't think he bought you," disgust laced his words and Remy pulled away.
"It's possible," Remy admitted the fear, "mais I never thought of it before though." He stared into Logan's eyes making sure the man knew how serious he was. This wasn't simply a suggestion that he could overlook as easily as Logan did. It was possible. People in his world were bought and sold all the time. He turned away and stepped back up to the railing of the balcony, allowing the blanket to fall from his shoulders.
"Darlin," Logan said the endearment softly, but Remy simply shook his head. No amount of backtracking would take away the suggestion. He shivered and folded his hands across his chest as he forced his eyes to remain dry. He could live with this. He could, Jean-Luc had loved him, of that he was sure….wasn't he?
"Ain't never doubted dat he love me before," Remy whispered into the cold night.
Logan wrapped the blanket around his bare shoulders once again and slowly put his arms back around Remy. "Rems I never meant it like that," he reminded him once again. "You're gonna freeze darling, come inside," he insisted.
Remy simply stared out at the city and made no move to encourage or discourage Logan. "De use ta lock me up," he admitted softly, "dats how I learn ta pick locks."
Logan rubbed his arms as he held the blanket tightly around Remy. They were both in boxers, but Logan's tolerance of cold weather was much higher than Remy's. He didn't speak, didn't interrupt Remy's train of thought.
Remy licked his lips and leaned back before continuing. He took Logan's silence to mean that the man was going to listen. "Would sneak out at night when de be sleeping. Sometimes de threw food 'way mais not always, would check da garbage in da house first. When it not be full, would go outside." Logan kissed his head and pulled him tighter. "Garbage ain't so bad when you ain't got nothin to compare it to."
"You're much braver den me kid, ain't sure I could survive all that," Logan encouraged when Remy failed to continue.
"Was cause of papa," Remy replied, "ain't sure I woulda made it much longer. Didn't care so much no more, think maybe I was just supposed to die."
"No," Logan said forcefully as he turned Remy around in his arms. Remy avoided his eyes and tried to squirm out of his grip, but he held on.
"Non!" Remy screamed. "Stop!" Logan read the panic in his eyes and let go of Remy before stepping back holding his hands in the air. Remy sank to the ground ashamed and ran a shaky hand through his hair as he refused to look up at Logan. "Sorry," he finally whispered with a forced air of calmness that he didn't feel.
"No, I'm sorry Rem," Logan assured. "I don't mean ta keep makin things worse."
"Ain't never talked 'bout dis, it just, was back der for a second." The blanket had fallen around him and Remy pulled it back onto his shoulders but failed to stand up.
Logan crouched down before him, "please come inside," he asked with gentleness that he only allowed Remy to see.
Remy nodded before slowly rising. "Sorry Logan," he mumbled as he walked around the man and into the apartment. He heard Logan sigh as he passed and a few stay tears fell down his cheeks as he regretted involving Logan in his past. It wasn't a burden that Logan should have to carry. He entered the bathroom and turned the shower onto nearly scalding. He felt dirty and used and he needed to get clean.
"Rems you've been in there for a while," Logan's voice spoke through the frosted glass.
He sniffled and tried to repress tears that had gone unnoticed as he scrubbed himself clean. "Almost done," he assured as he was silently thankful that Logan gave him some space. It wasn't often that he preferred to be alone, but he was glad that Logan sensed the need even though he had not voiced it. After a few minutes he felt nervous as the bathroom had stilled to an impossible quiet. He hoped he hadn't driven Logan away, he wasn't sure he could regain his balance alone. "Logan?" he questioned as he turned off the water.
"I'm right here darlin," Logan assured.
"Merci," he replied before opening the frosted glass doors of the shower. Logan wrapped him in a towel before he could step out or hiss from the cold. He pulled Logan close not caring that the man would now be wet. Logan held him close as he ran his hands up and down the towel in a vain attempt to dry him. "You'll stay?" he questioned close to Logan's ear.
"Always," Logan assured. "Let's get you dry," he insisted and Remy reluctantly let go.
"Sorry I'm such a mess cher," he whispered as he allowed Logan to dry him.
"It's gonna be alright Rem," Logan assured as he paused for a moment. "It's gonna be alright," he repeated before pulling Remy back into his arms.
"Don't know why I be cryin 'bout it now," Remy admitted as he stared into space over Logan's shoulder. "Ain't never cried 'bout it before."
"Sounds like you're long overdue then kid," Logan reasoned. "Now come on back to bed."
He nodded and Logan pulled away from him once again and led him into the bedroom. Remy sat down on the bed with the towel loosely around his shoulders and watched with vague interest as Logan rummaged through the dresser. "Don't know what ta say to him," Remy said quietly as he looked down at his hands.
"Say to who?" Logan asked before walking over to him.
"Papa," Remy nearly whispered.
"Hands up," Logan asked and Remy looked up at him startled before complying and allowing Logan to dress him in a long sleeve t-shirt. "You know you're gonna be sick in the morning right?" Logan asked with carefully humored annoyance.
"Oui," he agreed with a smile as he stepped into the pants that Logan offered him, "merci."
"Is it something you can live without knowing?" Logan asked him as he tried to dry his hair with the towel.
"What?" Remy questioned unsure of Logan's meaning.
"You're sure that your pops loves ya right?"
Remy nodded.
"And I know you love him," Logan continued. "So what does it matter?" Remy's heart ached in protest even as he nodded in agreement. Tears once again filled his eyes but he held them back and turned away from Logan. "It still matters doesn't it?" Logan asked with a sigh that Remy was sure he tried suppressing.
"I know it don't make sense," Remy admitted, "but I gotta know."
"Tonight?"
Remy shrugged, "don't know cher. Don't know what ta say to him…don't know how ta ask. Mais I need to know if he was helpin me or just usin me, I gotta know. Been used a lot, even da X-Men only be using me, just thought he was different."
"Not everyone uses you Rem, and as for Xavier, he uses all of us in one way or another. It ain't just you."
He turned to look at Logan and was about to apologize when the other man shook his head and Remy laughed instead. "Didn't mean you," Remy insisted.
"I know," Logan smiled in assurance. "Wanna lie down?"
"Oui," Remy agreed before climbing under the covers. Logan followed and Remy moved close to him. "I love you Logan," he said the words without looking at the man. It wasn't the right time for such a large admission, but something about that moment felt right.
He heard Logan snort, "been waiting a long time to hear you say that Rems. I love you too kiddo." It wasn't the first time that Logan had said the words to him, but it was perhaps the most important time. Reassured Remy laid his head down on the other man's chest wanting to hear his heartbeat. At some point he was lulled to sleep by the sound.
**
The sound of the door opening startled them both awake and Logan jumped out of bed while Remy simply rolled over and pulled the covers up higher. "Seriously Rem?" Logan asked in annoyance.
"'s just Hannah," the younger man assured. "Still tired," he added with a yawn.
Logan laughed. "I'll go talk to her," he offered as he pulled his jeans on and grabbed a t-shirt. As he looked over at Remy because of the lack of response, he found the man already asleep. He smirked before walking into the living room making sure his footsteps would be heard.
"Mr. Logan," a young dark haired woman greeted him with a smile; her accented voice too cheerful for the early hour.
"Mornin' Hannah, Rem and I are gonna be here for a few days," he informed her.
"I am sorry, Mr. Remy did not leave me a message" she replied in a lightly accented voice. "Want me to come back later this week?"
"Yeah sorry 'bout that, it was kinda spur of the moment," Logan replied, "take the week off. We'll pay ya anyway."
"Thank you Mr. Logan," she smiled. "That's not necessary. I'll be back to clean next week."
"You think you could do us a favor?" he asked as the idea suddenly came to him. "We ain't been here in a while, think maybe you could go get some food for me? I'll double whatever Remy pays ya for the week."
"Sure Mr. Logan, what would you like?"
"Just some staples to last us a few days," he shrugged.
"I'll make sure to knock when I return," she assured as she picked up her cleaning supplies. She had been cleaning the apartment once a week for years. Logan had met her only a handful of times and was slightly surprised that she remembered him.
"Thanks Hannah. Let me get ya some money for the groceries," he walked into the bedroom and chuckled when he found Remy still sound asleep. A look through his wallet revealed that he had forgotten to grab some cash when he chased after Remy the night before. He grabbed Remy's wallet out of his jeans and pulled out a few bills only to find two unused tickets to an art gallery event a few days earlier that Remy had only briefly mentioned to him. He felt guilty as he remembered laughing at the casual suggestion; he hadn't realized that Remy was serious. "I'll make it up to ya darlin," he assured before going back out into the living room.
"Thanks Hannah," he said as he handed her the money. "Could you just leave it on the counter when you come back? I'm gonna go back to bed."
"Of course," she agreed.
He went back into the bedroom and slipped under the covers before pulling Remy close. He was startled by how cold Remy was and when the boy shivered against him Logan held him tighter as he whispered, "you awake Rem?"
Congested breathing was his only reply and he realized that he would soon be dealing with a very grumpy sick Cajun. Remy turned in his arms and he pulled the boy closer trying to share his warmth with the southerner. Normally he had little patience with Remy while he was sick, but this time it hadn't really been his fault. The emotional break that he had seen the night before wasn't like the Cajun at all and that worried him. He figured some quiet rest would do them both some good.
Logan found himself lulled back to sleep until the door opened once again admitting Hannah. His eyes opened to stare into red on black eyes, "hey Rem," he greeted.
"Who?" the boy asked as he looked towards the living room confused about his lack of reaction.
"Oh it's just Hannah, I asked her to get us some stuff from the store. You gotta pay her double this week."
Remy laughed, "maybe I make you pay her?"
"You just try," Logan mocked. Remy's face suddenly fell and he laid back down. "Hey Rem, I was just kidding."
"I know," Remy replied before turning away from him. Logan refused to let go and Remy settled down against him while facing the wall.
"You hungry?" Logan asked.
"Oui," came the quiet reply.
"Really?" Logan was startled by the reply; he had expected the normal reply of no.
Remy shrugged against him, "could eat," he replied.
"Whatcha want?" Logan asked as he sat up. This wasn't an opportunity he was going to miss since it was so rare for Remy to admit to hunger.
Remy turned onto his back and laughed at his eagerness, "you act like I don't eat."
"Well sometimes it seems like ya don't," Logan replied before stepping out of bed and pulling his jeans back on. "I'm gonna go see what Hannah brought. Don't fall back asleep."
Remy rolled his eyes as he watched Logan leave. He continued to lay there for a few moments until the aroma from the next room forced him to get out of bed and he slipped a robe over his pajamas. He caught a fleeting look of himself in the mirror and paused. He felt weary and regretful at the site of his puffy eyes. He shouldn't have broken down before Logan like that.
He entered the bathroom and splashed water on his face in a vain attempt to cover up what Logan had already witnessed. The man would now think it was weak, something that he wasn't. As he looked back up at the mirror he thought that perhaps he was weak; much too weak for a man like Logan.
"Rems," he heard Logan call out and he dropped the toothbrush that he had just picked up. With a shaky hand he set it back in its holder and picked up the mouthwash instead. "Remy," he heard his name once again, only this time it was closer and he quickly filled his mouth with the mouthwash. "Hey darlin," Logan said as he leaned against the doorframe of the open bathroom. "Thought you fell back asleep," the man smirked. He shook his head before spitting out the minty liquid. "Breakfast is ready," Logan informed him and he nodded as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "I already told ya," Logan spoke softly as he entered the room, "everything's gonna be alright." His arms wrapped around Remy and the boy struggled to nod.
"I love you kid," Logan assured as they both looked into the mirror. He had reciprocated the night before but found that now under the pressure and the lights and with Logan staring at him so intently all he could do was nod. "You're scaring me," Logan admitted, "it ain't like you to be this quiet."
"Sorry Logan," he admitted.
"I wasn't asking for an apology," Logan said as he kissed his temple.
"Non," Remy agreed. "Sorry for last night, didn't mean to act like that."
"Remy I ain't sure I've ever seen you more real than last night," Logan surprised him with his reply. "You ain't gotta pretend that things are fine when they're not. I can't always read you, sometimes you've gotta talk to me."
"Am always real with you," he defended as he walked out of the bathroom away from the confrontation. He couldn't have a fight right now; he wouldn't be able to hold back the tears that fought with him even now.
"No you're not," Logan disagreed quietly as he followed him into the bedroom. "These prove that you're not," Logan accused as he held up two forgotten tickets.
"How'd you find those?" Remy demanded angrily.
"It doesn't matter," Logan replied, his voice sounding regretful.
"Fuck you Logan," Remy yelled back as he dropped the robe to the ground and began to change into jeans and a sweatshirt.
"Damn it Remy I didn't mean to start a fight," Logan defended. "I'm sorry okay kid; I found them when I was looking for some money to give Hannah this morning. I didn't have any cash on me." Remy continued to dress silently before grabbing his wallet off the dresser. "Remy stop," Logan called as Remy fled the bedroom. "Stop."
Remy sighed before turning around to face the man, "it was for charity Logan dat's all."
"When you want to go to these things," Logan replied seriously, "you've gotta tell me. I'll go, I swear; but you've gotta tell me."
"Why would you go?" Remy questioned. "You hate dat stuff."
"I'd go for you," Logan affirmed.
"Didn't care 'bout going," Remy admitted. "Coulda taken Stormy if I wanted."
"Then why buy them?" Logan asked still not convinced.
"Like ta support dat gallery," he shrugged. "Dey display my stuff sometimes, like to pay dem back for dat."
"Was your stuff up at the show?" Logan asked.
"Yeah," Remy admitted halfhearted.
"Next time you've got a show, I wanna go."
"Wasn't like dat," Remy defended. "Was just a dinner to raise money, dey put some of my stuff up. Dats it."
"I don't wanna fight with you," Logan relented. "Come eat some breakfast."
Remy reluctantly walked over to the kitchen island and sat on one of the barstools. "Merci Logan mais I ain't hungry," he insisted as he looked down at the plate of eggs, toast and bacon.
"Of course you're not," Logan grumbled as he leaned against the counter by the sink. He folded his hands over his chest and shook his head.
"You ain't gotta stay," Remy voiced after a few moments.
Logan shook his head and frowned before replying, "fine you want me gone? I'll go." He stormed out of the room angry and grabbed his wallet and keys from the bedroom.
A loud noise made him pause and he came back out to the kitchen to find Remy's dish thrown against the wall and the boy's head down on the counter sobbing into his folded arms. "Oh Rems," he breathed as he walked over to the boy, "I'm sorry."
"Just go," Remy demanded through tears.
"Naw darlin," Logan declined as he placed a hand on the middle of the boy's back, "I ain't goin nowhere. Sorry I was gonna leave ya."
"Everyone leaves," Remy replied.
"I'm right here," Logan assured as he tried to pry the boy off the counter, "I'm right here."
Remy finally allowed himself to be turned around and pulled into Logan's arms, but his tears wouldn't go away. "Don't mean ta keep cryin," he insisted.
"It's alright," Logan soothed. "Let 'em out."
"You not want a crybaby," Remy forced out through hitched breath.
"And ya ain't one," Logan assured as he ran one hand through Remy's hair and the other one over his back. Remy suddenly pulled away from him and fled into the bedroom. Logan followed slowly, worried that he'd done the wrong thing once again. "Rems," he called out as he realized Remy wasn't in the bedroom. The sound of Remy blowing his nose made Logan suppress a laugh. He had been worried that Remy had run from him, but instead the kid had simply needed to blow his nose.
"Sorry cher," Remy called from the bathroom, "know you hate it when I be sick."
"That's just 'cause it turns you into an annoying brat," Logan bantered back hoping that the boy wouldn't take the joke to heart. He regretted it as soon as he said it knowing that Remy wasn't in the best frame of mind. "I'm joking kid," he added before giving Remy any time to think about his previous statement.
"No you ain't," Remy called out, "you always say dat when he be sick mais Remy thinks it's just 'cause you ain't never sick."
"Oh yeah?" he asked as he entered the bathroom, "what other theories does Remy have?" As much as he hated it when Remy slipped into talking in the third person he had long ago given up the direct approach of disapproving of it. That simply caused Remy to get defensive and angry; instead he tried to gently ease Remy back into the sense of security that he needed to switch back.
"Remy thinks dat it be okay for him to do diss," he said as he walked over to Logan and kissed him deeply, "since you ain't gonna get sick or nothin."
Logan pulled back and laughed, "just cause it ain't gonna make me sick doesn't make it less gross." Remy joined in his laughter as he held the man close. "Wanna crawl back in bed?"
"Non," Remy insisted.
"Think maybe you could eat something?"
"Non."
"Wanna call your dad?"
"Non."
"I'm out of ideas kid, watcha wanna do?" Remy shrugged and Logan laughed once again. "Come on," he said as he stepped back from Remy and took his hand. He led them into the living room and urged Remy to lay down on the couch while he grabbed the remote to the TV. He knew it wouldn't take much to get Remy back to sleep. His moodiness had proven he was tired despite any protest the boy would undoubtedly make about the topic.
Logan sat down in a chair but Remy protested, "s'il vous plaît Logan, Remy be sick." So the man relented and sat down on the couch to become Remy's pillow. He had hoped to avoid it since he'd now be stuck on the couch while the boy slept, but after how easily they had gotten into a fight earlier he wanted to deter that from happening again so quickly.
Remy however wasn't tired, so when Logan came over to sit down he crawled into the other man's lap. "I'm sorry," he admitted as Logan pulled a blanket over them.
"Naw darlin, I'm sorry," Logan insisted as he held him close. "I didn't mean ta start a fight with you. You been through enough last night."
"Wasn't keeping da tickets a secret, it was da night of Jube's play. Don't know why I didn't just say dat."
"'Cause you were mad," Logan offered. "It's alright Rems. I do wanna go sometime though; you don't ever let me see your work."
"It ain't dat special," Remy insisted without looking up at him. "You be disappointed."
"Rems all I've ever seen is that painting you made for Rachel and that was something special."
Remy didn't reply and they slipped into silence before Logan turned the TV on. "Anything you wanna watch?" Logan asked him. Remy shook his head against the older man's chest. "Try to get some sleep," Logan urged as he found a basketball game.
"Not tired," Remy insisted and Logan switched the TV back off. "You can watch," he urged.
"Watcha thinkin 'bout?" Logan asked.
"Papa," he admitted quietly.
"You wanna go down there?" Logan asked gently.
"Don't know," he admitted. "Not sure I should bring all dis back up. He gave me a life Logan, shouldn't be questioning why."
"You have every right to ask why Rems," Logan assured him, "but if the answer ain't what you wanna hear, can you live with that?"
"Don't think so," Remy admitted as he lifted his head and looked at Logan.
"Then you need to let it be," Logan admitted.
"Oui," Remy agreed quietly as he laid his head back down on Logan shoulder.
"He loves you kid," Logan spoke quietly, "that much is completely obvious."
Remy nodded against him. "Gonna stay here for a bit, don't wanna go back yet," he admitted.
"Didn't figure you would," Logan acknowledged. "We got enough food for a couple days, how 'bout we see how you feel after that?"
"You gonna stay?" Remy asked.
"Of course, if you'll have me kid."
"Merci," he whispered before his eyes fluttered shut. Logan adjusted the blanket and turned the TV back on when he was sure that Remy was asleep. He smiled as he realized that he didn't mind being trapped on the couch after all.