thank you for the three reviewers! y'all rock my face! now to the rest of y'all who favorited and alerted this story - please leave a review, even if it's just a few words. tell me what you like. tell me what you don't like. tell me what you wish would happen. tell me when your birthday is. whatever! just give me some feedback, please!
this chapter is dedicated to christie and yugoma, my first two reviewers, and then EXTRA dedicated to 898700, who was kind enough to point out a bit of a miscommunication between my brain and my story!
for those of you who care about soundtracks and such, most of this chapter was written to my zz top playlist on pandora, as well as some 3OH!3 (namely "i'm not your boyfriend baby" and "starstrukk"), my guilty pleasure.
The quote, again, is from Joseph Heller's Catch-22.
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The brother was looking for a fight.
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Remy liked to think he believed in God. After all, he was a good Southern boy, and good Southern boys grew up to be good Southern Baptist men. He thought the whole "mutation" thing was like a cracker jack surprise that the good Lord put in his DNA, and was made up for by his dashing good looks and incredible athletic prowess. However, in light of recent events, Remy couldn't help but wonder if maybe God was a bit of a practical joker. That would be the only explanation as to why these things just kept happening to him.
He quickly finished off the turkey sandwich Mercy had made, rinsing off the dish and making another one for on the go. He polished the second one off before he had even reached the door. He welcomed the stifling humidity of the warm summer night, as it made his slow trek back to his apartment feel like a relaxing walk in a sauna. It was somewhere around one in the morning, and the streets were utterly empty. Remy felt his existence fade in and out with the spots of light given by the street lamps. His mind was overwhelmed with everything that had happened between meeting Logan in the gambling club to his apparent engagement, and he longed for nothing more than to wake up from this whirlwind of a dream and go on living his life as usual.
His anger suddenly flared, only to be taken out on a random can that was grabbed, charged, and thrown into the air, exploding like a firework above the empty road. How could his life spin out of control so quickly? One minute, he was a normal twenty-one year old, doing his best to live fast and die young. And now...
Now, he was a human truce. Thanks to him and this unnamed, faceless Ripper, many feuding lives would be saved. Only at the expense of two. Sure, he was a thief and all, but really, what had he done to deserve being tied down to a woman that he had never known, and didn't love?
To top it all off, he had lost his lucky fedora!
Remy shook his head to clear it. He was weary of thinking of this. Besides, someone was following him. Actually, it was four someones. He smirked - they were really awful at the whole "sneaking" thing - and led them down the wandering New Orleans street, doing his best to go relatively near his apartment without taking them to it. After all, he was in no mood to entertain house guests right now. Another half mile passed, and Remy got tired of the charade. He took a sharp right into an ally, and waited.
Not thirty seconds later, four men came wandering into the ally, looking about. The ally dead ended about fifty feet in front of them, yet all they could see was a large dumpster and a bum asleep in the corner.
"Where'd 'e go?" the first man, a big and burly man with dark hair, said, looking dumbly around the empty area.
"What do ya mean, 'where'd he go'? We were following him in here!" a wiry blond said.
"Sorreh, Julien, Ah coulda sworn 'e-"
"He had to go in here, Julien. There's no other place for him to go." a small, dark man said very quickly. His dark, beady eyes shifted restlessly around the empty area.
Remy decided that that was enough of teasing the boys. He reached into his back pocket, taking out one of the few cards he had left. His eyes flashed crimson as he charged it. He tossed it precisely over the ledge of the building he was sitting on, watching it float down towards the group. The light of the card caught their eyes, and they too watched with furrowed eyebrows and cocked heads as the card continued its descent. They seemed mesmerized by the flickering object, coming to meet it as it landed on the pavement. It sparkled for a moment, just long enough for the men to realize that it was a jack of spades, before exploding in a blast so monumentous that the drunk bum in the corner snorted awake.
As the four Rippers nursed their minor burns and coughed out the smoke, Remy used his bo staff to fly down to the group, smirking all the while. He waited for the smoke to clear to truly make his presence known.
"Ah see you got mah callin' card (1)." he said cheekily as his opponents continued to choke on the smoke. His smile widened - he could see their eyes watering from here.
"Listen, LeBeau," Julien said, stepping forward. "We got some unfinished business."
"If we gon' fight, it's gon' be fair, homme. Got it?" Remy said seriously. This was just what he needed - just another thing to go down tonight. "That means no shotguns, no cards, and no minions."
"Hey, I'm not-" the beady eyed man started to defend himself, but was silent at Julien's raised hand.
"So you mean, you'll put down those little 'splosives, and Ah'll put down this here Magnum Ah got in my belt, and we'll try to kill each other like civilized people (2)?" Julien asked, a glint in his eye.
"Exactly." Remy responded, smiling and leaning against his bo staff. "Ah'll even put down my fancy stick he'e."
Julien's eyes narrowed as he stared Remy down. "Ya got a deal."
"But Julien-" Big and Beefy cut in, but was also silenced by The Hand.
"It's ok, boys. Ah'll be alright." Julien's voice was steady, but Remy could practically feel the fear radiating off of him. Everyone in that ally (besides the drunken bum, who was already back asleep) knew that Julien was no match for Gambit. They hoped that somewhere, Julien had some tricks up his sleeves, because otherwise Remy was going to be sorely disappointed and his goonies were going to have a lot of explaining to do.
"He'e that boys? That means ya gotta give us some room." Remy said, flipping his hand casually as if he were shooing away a fly. The men did not take well to this gesture, but a look from Julien silenced them into obedience. Julien took out the gun, showing it to Remy before going to put it down.
"See? No gun." he sneered, going to toss it off to the side.
"Nu uh, boy. Gimme the ammo." Remy said, beckoning him with his hand. Julien rolled his eyes.
"What? Ya think Ah'm gonna grab it in the middle of the fight?" he said, frustrated.
"No, but yer boys might think about it." Remy said, leaning over and cheekily waving to Julien's buddies. He had no doubt that Julien's men had guns of their own, but it was the first thing he thought of. Having some bullets in his back pocket would make for a nice contingency plan. Julien himself gritted his teeth, pulling out the magazine of the gun before tossing the empty gun off to the side.
"Ya really think Ah'm gonna give ya mah bullets when yer packin' some sort of firepower?" Julien said, still clenching the magazine in his long, pale fingers. Remy was confused, but then realized that he must be talking about the card. Remy almost smiled, as apparently his mutation was little known and therefore, to be used to his advantage. He instead tossed the mostly empty package of cards off to the side, as well as the small lighter that he had lifted off his adoptive father for fun before he left the Guild house not an hour before. The bo staff was added to the pile, and Remy held up his hands in a declaration of cleanliness.
"No' mo'. Now ya wanna hand those suckers over?" he held out a hand expectantly, and with a sigh of frustration, Julien tossed it over.
Oh, yes. Mutation could definitely be used to its advantage.
"Ok, can we please get goin' now?" Julien said, nearly trembling in anticipation. Remy smiled, beckoning him again. With a roar that was a bit too big for his wiry body, Julien launched himself at Remy, immediately throwing punches at lightening speed. Remy blocked them easily - Julien had some speed on his side, but he was sloppy. He tried to throw a right hook, which was easily blocked by Remy. A hastily thrown left hook was also blocked. A 1-2 combo met nothing but Remy's forearms, Julien's flying fists of fury coming no where near Remy's obnoxiously smirking face.
"Fight back!" Julien yelled once he realized Remy was staying on the defensive. Remy could almost feel the anger coming off Julien in waves, and so decided to humor him, immediately landing a punch in the other man's side, and another on his face. A roundhouse kick to the face sent Julien stumbling back, blood dripping from his split lip. He reached up, gently touching the area, admiring the way the blood shone on his hand in the light of the streetlamp.
"Ya had enough playtime?" Remy asked tiredly. It was getting late, and he wasn't lying when he said he had Grey's Anatomy on the Tivo. To his dismay, Julien began to chuckle. That was never a good sign.
"Ya think yer such a man, don'tcha, LeBeau? Can't believe mah sistah is marryin' the likes o' you." Julien said, accenting this shot by spitting out a mouthful of blood. Remy could feel his face drain.
Marius has got a daughter that's about yer age...since when did Marius have a daughter? And, more importantly, why didn't Remy know about her?
"Well, crap." Remy said, his Southern lilt drawing the word out. "Never really put those two togethah. Guess this li'l tiff is between freres, now ain't it?" he said with a smirk.
"We'll nevah be brothahs." Julien said darkly, visibly shaking in anger.
"Tell me, bro," Remy started. "is mah future wife hot? Should Ah budget in a lot o' money for lingerie?"
"Stop it, LeBeau." Julien said lowly.
"Is she blonde like you? Ah've always kinda had a thing for blondes. They really do have more fun." he said suggestively.
"Shut up, LeBeau." Julien said with a warning in his voice.
"Oh, does she got a big ol' booty? Those really are mah weakness. Don' get me wrong, Ah love a nice rack just like any other man - she got one o' those by the way? - but really, when it comes down to it, Ah'm a booty man mahself." Remy continued, his smile getting bigger the angrier Julien got.
"Ah said SHUT UP!" Julien yelled. His croonies, dumbstruck by the banter, could only watch as Julien launched himself at Remy with renewed fervor, aiming for the other man's jugular. Remy blocked the first few shots, but had to take a couple to the rib cage before he was able to roughly knee Julien in the stomach, quickly dropping an elbow to the back of his neck. He grabbed Julien's head, bringing his face down onto his knee with a rather satisfying crack. He ignored the blood splatter on his jeans, choosing instead to take notice of the three distinctive clicks of guns in front of him. Before any of the other Ripper guys could shoot, he roughly grabbed Julien's shoulders, hoisting the other man up as a human shield.
"Don' shoot!" Julien gasped out, blood flowing freely out of his nose and over his mouth. "Don' shoot!" His men, not knowing what to do, just stood there with their guns raised in Remy's (and consequencely, Julien's) direction.
"Tell 'em to put 'em down." Remy whispered in Julien's ear.
"Put 'em down." Julien said through gritted teeth. The men, unsure, looked to one another in confusion. "Ah said put yer dang guns down!" With that, the guns were lowered.
"Tell 'em to toss 'em ovah he'e." Remy said softly.
"Put 'em over here." Julien said, face red with anger and chagrin. The boys slid the guns over, and Remy kicked them behind him.
"Now, boys, in a second Ah'm gonna toss yer leader here back over to ya. Then, you're gonna take him, clean him up, and go back home, d'accord? Ah don't want y'all tryin' ta start somethin' cause otherwise yer gonna end up worse than this mess." Remy said, gesturing to Julien. He reached an arm around Julien's neck with just enough pressure to let him know not to try anything funny, and with the other hand, he reached into his back pocket, silently loosing one of the bullets from its hold. When everything was still and all the men had agreed (even if Remy didn't trust it one bit), he let Julien go, roughly (and quickly) shoving him towards the group. Big and Beefy caught him, but the shady character with the beady eyes whipped out a switchblade instead, the quiet click echoing through the night air. Remy met the man's disturbingly dark eyes just before the knife was thrown in his direction. He was unable to dodge the knife, letting out a gasp of pain as it sank into his right shoulder. He charged the bullet in his fingers, flinging it left handed to the pavement right in the middle of the circle. He quickly ran, grabbing his bo staff and sprinting towards the back of the ally, leaping onto the garbage bin just as the bullet exploded with rather impressive firepower. He did not stop to see the after-effects of the explosion, leaping onto a nearby rooftop and running in the direction of his apartment. He pulled the knife out of his shoulder, grimacing as pain shot down his entire arm and up his neck. He tossed it off to the side, leaping onto the next roof. He slid down a fire escape, running through the back roads towards his apartment whilst trying to control the blood flowing out of his shoulder. The erratic pounding of his heart was not helping.
By the time Remy was trudging up the stairs to his apartment, he was more than a little lightheaded from injuries and exhaustion. He had ripped his t-shirt in order to try and stem the flow of blood from his knife wound, but it was already beginning to seep through. It took him a couple tries to unlock the door, as his vision was getting a little blurry from his tired eyes. Once the door was open, he stumbled in, shutting the door and locking all three locks that his door held. The coffee machine was immediately flipped on, bubbling and brewing as Remy went searching for his Thieve's first aid kit. He tossed the black leather bag on the kitchen counter, waiting impatiently for the cup of coffee to be made. Once the machine beeped, he poured himself a mug, downing the scalding liquid in one go. Sure, mild burns on your tongue hurt, but a knife wound hurt a heck of a lot more.
Remy felt much more awake now that the caffeine was coursing through his system, and he poured himself another cup before moving the first aid kit to the island in the middle of his kitchen, opening it and pulling out the necessary supplies to sew himself up, as well as stop the bloodflow. He sat himself down on a stool, organizing his supplies and going through the process in his head once. Antiseptic was applied, as Remy did not desire an infection in any way. He tore open a package of QuikClot (3), carefully dumping the grainy, black substance on his shoulder. Whatever was in that sterile, medical package sure did a number on the slice, making Remy groan loudly as a rip-roaring fire flew through his entire arm. Oh, the price you pay to staunch bleeding. Once the QuikClot had worked its magic, Remy was able to open a sterile stitching needle and some surgical thread, actually threading the needle with a bit of difficulty. He didn't bother with any local anaesthetic, allowing the needle to bite into his skin over and over until he had the cut laced up like a corset. He added another swipe of antiseptic before placing gauze over the wound, attaching it with surgical tape. With his amateur medical work finished, Remy was able to lean his head down on the island, resting just for a moment. He felt himself beginning to doze, so he took a couple Advil with the last bit of his coffee, then stumbled towards his bedroom. By three in the morning, Remy was finally able to (carefully) collapse on his bed, fully clothed, and enter a tumultuous sleep.
--
The first thing Remy did when he awoke late that morning was vow to himself that he was going to buy dark, thick curtains and transform his bedroom into a cave. The second thing he vowed was to change the ringtone on his phone to something less...ear splitting. Or better yet, turn the sucker off and cut off all contact from the world. This seemed a very appealing idea at the moment. However, he knew that whatever trouble he was in would only grow worse if he didn't man up and answer the phone.
"'Lo?" Remy asked groggily into the device, not bothering to check the caller ID. The response he received was a long string of curses, both in English and French, but Remy chose to try and blow the unruly bangs out of his eyes instead of listen until the end of the string.
"...WHERE ARE YA?!" the engraged voice demanded of him.
"No need to swear so much. Ah'm in bed, Henri, where normal people are at this hour." Remy practically whispered to his adoptive brother.
"At this hour? Boy, ya do realize it's nearly noon?!" Henri demanded.
"Thank ya fo' alertin' me. Call back at three." Remy replied.
"Oh, no, brothah. Ya gotta get ovah he'e now. Jean Luc' 'bout to have a huge ol' litter o' kittens if you ain't he'e soon." Henri said, rushed.
"What does that ol' fogie want with me now?" Remy whined, flopping over onto his back and painfully reminding himself of his knifed shoulder.
"It ain't what Father wants," Henri said in a frustrated tone. "Yer wife is gonna be he'e soon."
"Mah wife...?" Remy asked, more to himself than Henri. The last night's events suddenly clicked into place in his head, causing him to moan loudly and for an extended period of time. "Crap!" A few more curses were added after that.
"Look Remy, Ah don't care what her mother do and where she do it, Ah'm just tryin' ta look out fo' ya. Ya need to get down here...now." Henri said in a hushed tone, which was a giveaway that someone relatively important had come into the nearby vicinity.
"Ok. Gimme ten minutes." Remy said, hanging up and tossing the phone off to the side. He laid in bed for a moment longer, mentally preparing himself for the day and all that it would entail. He sat up, hiding in his long hair, and continued to mentally prepare himself. This was good, he coached himself. He was sitting up, so surely that meant that in a minute he would be able to actually stand, and then change clothes, and then go meet his fiancee for the first time. Easy breezy.
Remy's promised ten minutes had long sinced passed by the time he reached the gates to the Guild house. As he walked down the long cobblestone driveway, he suddenly felt like Hercules about to take on his twelve labors (4). He also found himself wishing he could take on those twelve labors, as anything else would be better than picking out floral arrangements that weren't too flashy but not too small that also managed to match the table cloths which needed to match the invitations and also the bridesmaid dresses...
Remy shuddered in realization of the pains that he was about to go through.
The door creaked open ominously, but the house was quiet. Apparently he had arrived before his wife and her entourage. Or everyone had killed each other, which was just as likely a possibility.
He found Jean Luc and Henri in the parlor, each sitting in the solace of his own thoughts. Henri's eyes flitted to his to acknowledge his presence, but he soon returned to the notepad in front of him, calculating figures for something or another. Jean Luc's cold blue eyes followed Remy's every move, settling with him on the couch next to Henri, who duly pretended to not notice the thick tension that was choking every occupant in the room. The clock on the mantle ticked on dutifully, counting down every second to Remy's impending doom. The thought crossed his mind that perhaps he was being just a little too dramatic about the whole thing. After all, Henri loved married life with Mercy. Maybe Remy could get that lucky too.
A heavy knocking sounded at the front door, one of the other Guild members answering it promptly. There was a low murmur of voices as certain things were discussed, then a distinct sound of weapons being removed. The group moved towards the parlor, and Remy could easily pick out the staccato sound of stilettos clicking along the tile floor amidst the heavy thuds of boots. Four shady looking Ripper characters entered first, obviously preceeding the star of the show. Belladonna Budreaux entered the room with a flourish of fashion and style, her clearly designer dress standing out against the cheap suits that her body guards were in. Remy took on look at her and felt his jaw unhinge.
Tall. Tanned. Toned.
Oh, yes. He could definitely get that lucky.
Large sunglasses were removed, gold bracelets jangling as they were placed amidst the perfect blonde waves on the top of her head. She flipped the long waves over her shoulder and fixated an intense stare on Remy, an impatient gleam in her electric blue eyes. Remy could feel himself drifting off to cloud nine.
"Well?" she asked, drawing the word out. "Ya not gonna stand fo' a lady enterin'?"
That brought Remy crashing back down to earth.
"Sorry, wasn't aware Ah was in the presence of a queen." he responded flippantly, heaving himself to his feet.
"Miss Budreaux," Jean Luc stopped the fight before it could happen. "Always a pleasure. This is my adopted son Remy LeBeau."
She held out one perfectly manicured hand to Remy, who quickly kissed the back of her palm, purposefully letting his day old stubble scratch against her knuckles. If she felt any revulsion at the slight act, she held it in gracefully.
"Remy," Jean Luc continued. "this is Belladonna."
Remy nodded, his hazel eyes never leaving her blue ones. The awkward pressure became too much for Henri, who quietly exited.
"Ah'll just...leave you two alone." Jean Luc said slowly. "Y'all got a lot ta talk about." He exited after his son. Remy, with a roll of his eyes, collapsed back on the couch, slouching unattractively. Belladonna turned to her body guards.
"Leave us." she said, adding in a few snaps for dramatic effect. The men nodded, filing out of the parlor like little lapdogs being sent to the pound. Belladonna closed the door softly, then proceeded to whirl around and fixate that stare on Remy again. She took two long strides to stand right in front of his collapsed form, placing her hands on her hips in what was obviously her power stance.
"Yes, darlin'?" Remy asked cheekily.
"Listen he'e, Remy," Belladonna said darkly. "Ah'm gonna say this, and Ah'm only gonna say this once. When it comes to this union he'e, you are gonna stay out of mah way. You do what Ah say, when Ah say. D'accord?"
"Listen he'e, Bella. May Ah call ya Bella?" Remy asked, standing up so that they were in uncomfortably close proximity.
"No." she responded shortly.
"Bella, Ah don't want this any more than you do." Remy said, capturing her eyes with his own intense stare. "So you do the wedding how evah ya want it. When it comes down to it, ya can have as many affairs as ya want, cause Ah sure am. If occasionally you can't resist me, Ah won't be opposed to you either. Neither one of us wants this, so naturally we will be more capable than the average couple at making this work."
Belladonna smiled, tracing her fingertips along Remy's jaw. "Oh, Remy. What great thoughts." she said softly. Her gaze suddenly chilled, her lips hardening into a tough line. She threw a knee into Remy's groin, then dropped a bony elbow on the back of his neck, making sure to leave a bruise. Remy gasped in pain, collapsing uncontrollably on the couch behind him. He just couldn't win lately.
"Let's get one thing strait, Remy LeBeau." Belladonna said, standing over him like a great and terrible beauty (5), her face condescending as if she had not possibly just ruined Remy's chances of one day having seven little LeBeau's running around. "If we're gonna get married, Ah am goin' ta be faithful, as are you. Ah don' know what delusion ya got in yer head, but this is not a paper marriage. Yer going to play the part of husband, and yer gonna like it. Some might consider this a bit...demanding. Are you one of those people?" she gave room for answer, but Remy was still unable to form a coherent response. She smiled. "That's what Ah thought. Now, let's get to plannin' our wedding, shall we?" she said sweetly, sitting down on the couch next to him and crossing her legs. "Ah was thinkin' that we should have it in June. Ah just love that early summer heat..."
Oh, how lucky one man could be.
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1 - direct quote from the later cartoons, X-Men: Evolution, only Remy was coming to beat up the Brotherhood, not a bunch of random Rippers.
2 - not a direct quote, but you should know that it is inspired from a line by Fezzik in the fantastic movie "The Princess Bride." prepare for that movie to be quoted a lot in this story.
3 - i don't know if this product is actually real, it was just used by mark wahlberg in Shooter to staunch the flow of some bullet wounds.
4 - in mythology, Hercules was set to perform twelve tasks in penance.
5 - the title of a book by Libba Bray, as well as a line from Yeats' "Easter, 1916".
alright, for those of you who did not grow up in the south and therefore do not know the southern drawl well and good, you should know that when southerners get upset, each word they say automatically gets at least one extra syllable due to drawl time. accepting this fact with make your reading experience more enjoyable.
well, i hope that y'all enjoyed the second installment of this! please leave some love and tell me what you thought!
~XM