Thank you to everyone who took the time to read this and review, sorry it's taken so long to update, if anyone has read my profile, you probably know I care for about 70 horses that like to injure themselves on a regular basis. Combine that with owners that like to take up my time with pointless tasks, insomnia and writers block and nothing come out of my crazy head except the thought "Dear god, just let me get a few hours of some decent sleep!".
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Anywho, I finally figured out where I might be going with this and in order to do so I have combined chapters 2 to 6 into one chapter and will have chapter 3 up very soon.
Chapter 2: Lady Luck…
It was dark that night in early April, the sun having set hours before. Heavy clouds hung low in the sky, blocking out any light the moon and stars might have provided. Rain fell, lightly at first, but gaining momentum as the hour wore on. It came down hard on the cracked pavement of a narrow, garbage strewn alleyway, echoing down the small space.
A bar resided within the building to the right of the alley, an inn just above it. It wasn't the classiest of places, sitting on the outskirts of the rundown city of Greenville, Mississippi, but people still went there to drown their sorrows and forget their miserable lives with watered down liquor and melancholy music. It was the kind of place where people minded there own business and no questions were asked.
A door swung open into the alleyway and a young man stepped out of the bar; soft, depressing jazz music trailed behind him, quickly becoming enveloped as the door slipped shut. He was wearing all black, but for the tan duster that he pulled closed around him. The darkness shadowed his features, though the way he held his lean body suggested a cocky arrogance, as if he knew exactly what he wanted in this world and wouldn't hesitate to take it by any means possible. Any onlookers that passed might have given him a funny look, noticing that he wore sunglasses in the dead of night, but as the downpour drenched his normally silky auburn hair, making it hang heavily just above his shoulders and covering his eyes, he removed them, revealing eyes that glowed a deep red in the darkness, and black where the whites of his eyes should've been.
His name was Remy LeBeau. He was 17 years old, and for someone so young he had achieved quite a lot in his short life, none of which he was very proud of.
Remy was not from around there. Once he was a member of the infamous thieves' guild, down in New Orleans, but now he found himself following the Mississippi, trying to put distance between himself and the only place he'd ever known as home, not particularly caring what happened to him. He wasn't sure where he was going; just that he had to keep on the move, in part to keep from thinking about his past sins, but also because, although he didn't believe he deserved to live a good life, he wasn't ready to give up quite yet. He knew he was willing to give the people who wanted him dead, and there were a few, a run for their money. So he travelled by his lonesome, picking up jobs here and there, and if there was no work, he'd use his skills to acquire what he needed. It might have been easier to find work if Remy could use the guild's name and influence, but for all Remy knew; they were on that long list of people who wanted him dead. No, Remy knew he had to find his own way and if he struggled, if he had to be alone for the rest of his life, it was no more than he believed he deserved. Besides, it had been working out just fine for him so far.
Stepping out of the alley and into the street, Remy grinned, happy for the fresh air and the clean rain that cooled his body. He had just gotten fairly lucky, and, feeling the need for a walk to stretch his legs and clear his head, left his room at the dingy inn which was suddenly very hot and stuffy.
The rain comforted Remy. It was humid out, balancing the cold of the rain with the heat of the night. Shivering as a stray drop slipped down his back, Remy pulled up the collar of his newly acquired duster; the hem swaying around the ankles of his scuffed up surplus army boots. He had found it in his room, left behind no doubt by the previous tenant, who must've checked out in a hurry. It had been used and abused; worn in; leaving the leather darkened and ragged looking. Remy didn't mind, it was comfortable and of good quality. He patted down the pockets for the first time that night, his black gloves conspicuously missing all but the middle and ring fingers on both hands, leaving his remaining fingers exposed to the rain. He found a pack of cigarettes and a lighter and his grin widened. It was definitely a lucky night.
Pulling out the pack, Remy slipped one of the white sticks between his lips. He lit it with practiced precision before it could get soaked and rendered useless. Leaning back on his heels, he took a long drag, savoring the weak flavor of the tobacco. He couldn't remember the last time he had had one.
Exhaling a spiraling gray cloud of smoke, Remy's grin became slightly more mischievous. He had an innkeeper to pay tonight if he wanted a place to sleep. Perhaps Lady Luck would stick with him that evening.
xXx
Greenville was ruled by fear.
Very few people wandered after dark and those that did even Remy knew not to mess with. There were no crowded streets, no all night diners, and no vibrating dance clubs. In short: no pockets to pick.
Empty store fronts lined the main street, their windows barred or otherwise shattered. Remy continued walking; past the stores and worn looking apartment buildings, making a circle to direct him back to the outskirts of the small city, heading back towards the inn. He passed a rundown suburb and found his way into the back woods of the city, where farms used to prosper and animals would graze, now unkempt and overgrown.
Frustrated, Remy kicked a stone and continued to kick it as he walked. He'd been out for nearly an hour and had yet to find any signs of life or activity. At least back in New Orleans people were still willing to have fun, go out, and dance their worries away. Or, at least, that's how he liked to remember it. The truth, however, was that the Louisiana city was no better than the backwater county bordering the Mississippi river he had found himself in.
Ever since the Mutant Registration Act was passed, people lived in fear. Human's believed it would help them feel safe, and for a short while perhaps it did, forcing mutants to be registered and tracked, unable to use their powers for fear of being arrested or worse. There were protests, refusals to register, but it did no good; mutants were seen as the enemy, a danger. After it was revealed that the government had been selling select mutants to the island nation of Genosha as slaves, everything changed. There were riots; mutants were angry. They would be oppressed no more. Those mutants not registered took their anger out on humans. Humans thought mutants were no better than animals, to be hunted down and disposed of.
There was a massacre in the middle of everything. It was an attack on a children's hospital by a group mutant maniacs. The government could take no more, the camps were their idea, to keep everyone safe. Mutants were taken from their homes, from their work and off the streets to be placed in the camps, not to be seen again. Remy knew they were branded in there, beaten and spit upon. There were whispers of suspected culling, but such allegations were never proven and the government used everyone's fears against them to keep their silence. Many places had curfews now and task forces that walked the streets, ready to take in any mutants they came across. Remy knew that in these parts of the south people didn't put much faith in the government, preferring to deal with such 'problems' with their own two hands. He shuddered at the thought of such lynching and almost reached for the sunglasses that hid his eyes so well. Such horror over a birth defect seemed so wrong.
Remy walked faster, his thoughts bringing about the usual feelings of guilt and hatred to him. He wanted to stop thinking, his body charging with the warm static from his emotions. Reaching down he picked up the stone he had been kicking. Concentrating, he felt the familiar energy flow through his body and down his arm, into the tips of his exposed fingers. Focusing on the small stone, Remy watched as the one thing that made him special, made him different, feared, and hated, lit the rock in his hand into a brilliant pink glowing orb, ready to burst with kinetic energy.
Remy was a mutant, and because of this, he was hated.
It seemed almost funny to Remy, maybe even ironic, that he was despised for what he was, rather than who he was. For he believed if anyone took the time to get to know him, learn any of his secrets, he doubted they'd find much to like anyways.
Flicking the stone into the rain, Remy released his control over the building energy in his fingers. He watched it explode in the darkness before him and smiled, some of his tension forgotten for the moment.
That's when he heard the scream.
Remy stiffened at the sound of the scream and listened to the night air. His heart pounding, he cursed quietly under his breath. Had he been seen? Reported? Was an S.H.I.E.L.D. vehicle on its way?
As Remy turned to face the direction the sound had come from, another echoed through the night air. He realized the screams had nothing to do with him; they were young, panicked, and full of fear. It's the kind of scream that escaped your throat when you didn't have much longer to live; begging someone, anyone, to hear, to help. Through the rain he could see the place the cries were coming from: a barely standing barn to his left.
Remy knew he should've just turned around and left, kept walking and ignored the panicked cries cutting through the air, but he couldn't. He had heard screams like that before, caused by his actions. He wanted to make up for the pain he had caused, and perhaps that's what made him move silently towards the building that might have once been red, now tagged over and over with many different colors of paint; the original messages lost in the chaos.
Circling around the side of the barn, Remy didn't make a sound. There was a rusty ladder against the front of the dilapidated building, leading straight into the old hayloft. With skillful ease he climbed, one rung at a time, his duster floating in the wind behind him. He was confident no one could her him through the rain and wind. He slipped through the opening to the loft and voices floated up from down below, angry and full of spite.
Climbing into the rafters, Remy hoped to get closer to them without anyone noticing, so he could assess the situation and form some sort of plan in his mind, but as he peered down, able to hear the voices clearly at that point, his blood ran cold. Below him were three figures. There was a girl; younger than Remy, all he could make out from his position above them were her thick auburn curls, a striking streak of white right at the front of them. She was cowering while another woman stood in front of the girl; shielding her, trying to protect her. They had been cornered, locked in the dark space by a third person in the barn. A beast of a man; a man Remy had hoped he would never cross paths with again.
Remy didn't need to see the man to know exactly what he looked like. He towered over the woman, his unkempt blond hair wild looking. He wore shabby homemade clothing, sewn from prizes of his hunts, lined with fur and leather. Around his neck hung necklaces carved of bone, Remy never knew what kind of bone; animal or human.
His first instinct was to run, but as Remy watched, the man he knew as Victor Creed sniffed the air and Remy froze, glued to his spot. Remy could run, but the monster below him already had his scent. He was in this till the end now. He silently watched as Creed made a move towards the woman, trying to psyche her out; enjoying the fear he was causing. The woman in turn, put herself further in front of the girl.
"Anna, get back! Run child!" the woman pleaded with the girl, her accent not from these parts. Remy could see there was no where to run and he expected Anna saw the same thing.
"No momma, not without ya." Remy noticed the difference in their accents immediately. Although Anna had called the other woman her mother, her accent suggested she had grown up in these parts. He could hear the tears behind her soft, southern drawl.
"Please momma…"
The next thing Remy heard was a growl; a growl he had heard many times in his recent nightmares.
"So Raven, ya found yerself a frail." Creed's accent wasn't from those parts either; it was Canadian, thick and harsh. Remy only knew that because that was where he had first met Creed; made him a business proposition. "Bet she's real easy to manipulate ain't she? Being so young…"
To Remy's amazement and disbelief, Creed looked up at him in the rafters, smiling a sadistic smile, his fangs bared as he licked his lips. It only lasted an instant, no longer as he quickly turned his attention back to the two in front of him. He continued with a sick pleasure in his voice that made Remy uneasy.
"She's tender."
Creed was trying to get a reaction out of Remy, cause him to lose his concentration and play the hero, but Remy only watched, waiting until the time was right. If he were to intervene, it was going to be on his terms, not Creed's. Remy began fingering the pack of playing cards he had hidden in his chest pocket nervously.
"I'll make ya a deal Raven, let me have the frail. I'll take my time with her, cut her up real nice…"
Anna gasped and shrunk backwards into the shadows, as if they could somehow protect her.
"…that'll give ya a head start. How's that strike ya?"
"Not on your life Victor!" such anger in Raven's voice. She took a breath, steadied her voice and tried to negotiate with Creed. "I don't know who sent you after me, nor do I know how you found me, but I will pay you double to turn around and take out your employer."
Creed just laughed.
"You think I'm getting' paid fer this Raven? Don't get me wrong, he offered, but I told him I'd do it fer nothin'. Call it a personal project, hunting down yer sorry butt and makin' ya pay fer what ya did ta me." Creed smiled, "As fer who, perhaps Graydon rings a bell? Seems he's a little sore at us, ya know, fer being stinkin' muties an' all, but you especially fer abandoning him to starve ta death in the middle of nowhere. Seemed to like the idea, pitting father against mother."
Creed snorted at the last comment. He was enjoying this game of cat and mouse, watching his prey squirm beneath his gaze just made it that much more exciting for him. Remy closed his eyes up above, trying to gather a little more courage to face such a monster.
Shifting his weight, a board creaked beneath Remy, causing Anna's eyes to suddenly reach for the rafters, catching his own eyes and holding them. His breath caught in his throat. Huge green emeralds stared up at him, full of fear, begging him to help. Remy had never seen eyes like hers before, so beautiful, so scared; there was an innocence about them that told him she'd never seen the horror's of this world yet. The emotion there took him by surprise and he tried to reassure her silently, but as she stared, Raven looked to her and with trained reflexes, turned her head to where Anna was staring, catching sight of Remy. Her eyes glowing an amber color as Remy noticed her shape begin to change. It was the opening Creed wanted.
Creed struck and Raven let out a horrible scream. Remy heard it and his heart sunk, he had waited too long. Ripping his eyes away from Anna, he watched as Raven fell, her shape changing, her skin becoming a dark blue, her hair a deep red. She held her side as she tried to push herself back up, but Creed was not done. The sound of flesh being ripped apart and screaming; Anna's panicked screams, unending and becoming louder and louder. Remy's adrenaline was pumping, he couldn't think. He fought the urge to run, not able to take anymore. He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat.
Remy jumped.
The duster fluttered around Remy as he landed with precision on his feet, his hand hitting the ground to support him. Creed crouched over the blue woman, her eyes staring lifelessly at Anna cowering in the corner, her screams silenced by Remy's sudden presence. Creed stood, his back still to Remy, blocking Anna from his sight.
"Was wonderin' when ya'd join the party Cajun. Two seconds too late, as usual."
Creed turned and flew at Remy, his fangs bared. He let out a threatening growl and before Remy could react he was flying through the air, his head hitting the wall behind him. The last thing he heard was Creed's laughter.
"Must be my lucky night darlin'…"
Then blackness.
xXx
Spots of light danced in front of Remy's eyes. He blinked several times, waking up slowly as fuzzy shapes began to take focus in front of him. He groaned, unsure of where he was. Closing his eyes, he gingerly felt the back of his head. No blood, but for some reason he could smell it everywhere. He couldn't focus; couldn't think. The stench was overpowering. He furrowed his brow, trying to concentrate. Where was he again?
It all came back to him in an instant. He was in a barn, had tried to prevent something. That maniac Creed was there, so why wasn't Remy dead? And how could he be so stupid? Why did he wait so long? He should've just left. But the girl …she had sounded so scared…Remy wanted to help her…what was her name?
Anna!
Remy's eyes snapped open, searching for the girl he presumed was already dead, and immediately he regretted the decision. The blood was everywhere, pooling on the floor, painting the walls, splattered on Remy's clothes. The woman, the blue woman with the red hair, was no longer whole, she was torn apart, her flesh shredded to ribbons and her body flayed. As Remy stared at the sight before him, the stench became overwhelming, his stomach lurched as he turned his head and was sick.
As Remy lifted his head, dizzy from the sudden movements, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, he heard her. Soft growling, feminine; unlike Creed's brutal noises, floated from the dark corner where Anna was hunched over, naked and on her knees. Her elbows were steadying her against the dirt floor, her head resting in her hands. She growled, then whimpered like a tortured animal.
Looking around Remy noted that Creed was gone and he could only wonder what had broken him of his blood lust and made him leave before he could kill the girl, or Remy himself for that matter, but that wasn't his main concern at that moment. He could question their luck later; he needed to make sure Anna was ok, then they had to leave.
Pushing himself up, one hand placed on the wall to steady himself, Remy moved towards Anna, his head pounding with every step. Why was she growling?
"Petite?" Remy whispered, "Petite, you ok?"
As Remy got closer he could see the marks all over her body and suddenly he realized that even though she was alive, she had been put through everything but death in the short time Creed had been there. Her clothing was in shreds all around her, she had bruises that reached all around her wrists and cuts and claw marks all over her arms, legs and torso. Remy made note that her fingers held razor sharp claws, not unlike Creed's own. To his amazement Remy watched as Anna's skin began knitting itself back together, the cuts healing before his eyes. She was a mutant like himself.
"Please petite, speak ta me…" Remy pleaded, looking for any sign that she could hear him. "Anna?"
Anna lifted her head at the sound of her name and stared up at him, covering her chest with her arms. Remy could now see why she wouldn't speak; a deep slit across her throat prevented her from making sound, the blood covering her whole neck and chest. By all rights Anna should have been dead, but as Remy stared the slit was knitting itself back together, just like the cuts all over her body had been doing.
As they stared at each other, Anna in fear and Remy in confusion, Remy's common sense finally came back to him. Shaking off his coat, he tried to hold back all the emotions he was feeling at that moment. Anger at Creed for what he had done to the poor girl, pity for her that she had gone through such an ordeal, guilt because he wasn't able to stop it from happening and awe, because, even though she was covered in blood and dirt, Anna was probably one of the most beautiful creatures he had ever seen, if only for her beautiful green eyes. He lowered the duster towards her, but Anna flinched and flew backwards.
"Don't touch meh!" it wasn't the same voice Remy had heard before, it was harsher, raspier, probably, Remy guessed, from the cut across her throat.
"Please…just…don't touch meh…"
Remy saw the bruises on her legs and the inside of her thighs, confirming what he had only suspected moments before and he could feel the familiar warmth of the static that charged his body with his anger. It was that moment he vowed to himself that if he ever saw Creed again in this lifetime, he would make him regret hurting the young girl.
Remy took a few steady breaths, knowing that if he didn't calm down something would have to explode, and somehow he didn't see that helping Anna calm down at all.
"I ain't gon' hurt ya like that bastard did, petite. Not gon' touch ya like he did…" Remy whispered through gritted teeth. He knelt down and began wrapping his duster around her shoulders, but her scream made him freeze.
"NO!" her head was back in her hands. She growled fiercely and a voice that could mirror Creed's escaped her throat.
"Come on little frail, scream fer me. I so love it when ya do. Lots of fight left in ya, how bout we break that little wrist of yours?" she was whimpering now, her voice back to normal. She hit her forehead with the palms of her hands, her claws furled.
"What did he do ta meh? What did Ah do ta him?" Anna looked up at Remy, tears escaping her pleading eyes and his heart ached.
"Please Remy…make him stop…" Remy's eyes widened at this comment. First off Creed was gone, how could he be still tormenting her? Secondly…
"Petite…how you know Remy's name?" Remy ventured, he knew Creed only ever referred to him as 'Cajun' and he hadn't mentioned his own name yet.
It was Anna's turn to widen her eyes as she searched her memory feverishly.
"Ah…Ah don't know. His voice…in mah head…oh gawd, just don't touch meh…Ah…Ah…"
Her green eyes rolled back so all Remy could see was white and then she fell, fainting, into his arms.
Unsure of what had just happened; Remy wrapped the duster around Anna. He knew he had to get her away from there. Creed was not going to take whatever she had done to him kindly and since his body was nowhere in sight Remy had to believe he was alive somewhere and would be back to finish what he had started. Making one last sweep of the room, Remy spotted a duffle bag that had been abandoned in the scuffle. He gently set Anna down and went to retrieve it.
As he grabbed the bag he took a final look at what was left of the woman, wishing he could at least bury Anna's poor momma, but he knew he had no time for such things. If anyone found her they'd likely throw the shape shifter, unable to hide what she was now, out with the trash, like unwanted garbage. Remy sighed, humans were sickening sometimes.
As he went to turn back to the girl, something sparkled; Remy could see it out of the corner of his eye. Gold bracelets shone on the woman's wrist, and as much as it repulsed him to touch what was left of the woman, he knew he could use the gold a lot more then she could, wherever she had gone.
Remy shoved the bracelets into his jean pocket and with the duffle bag slung over his shoulder he lifted Anna into his arms. She was lighter than he had expected and he couldn't help but stare into her tear stained face for a short moment, thinking about her beautiful eyes and how he would give anything to see them again.
Stepping out into the rain, Remy took off silently into the dark. Sprinting towards the inn.
xXx
It didn't take Remy long to get back to the dank bar. Dripping wet and miserable, he made his way to the stairwell that led up to the damp little rooms of the inn upstairs. Hugging Anna tightly to him, he hoped he didn't look too suspicious, but no one looked up from their glasses, taking no notice to the fact that the girl in Remy's arms was covered in blood. Remy let out a silent sigh, relieved, but, as he mounted the first step, someone caught his wrist. The bartender, also the innkeeper, looked up at him expectantly.
"Ya'd best be payin' me if ya want anotha night of sinful pleasure up there." Remy could feel the man's eyes on Anna, who lay still in his arms.
Without looking at the man, Remy reached into his pocket and pulled out a bracelet. He tossed it onto the bar.
"Sure dat's more 'n enough, mon ami." Remy continued up the stairs, not waiting for the bartender's reply. He held Anna closer to him, trying to somehow protect her from the man's gaze.
"Only if it's real, mon ami," mumbled the bartender. He called out behind Remy, "Didn't think ya needed ta get ya ladies drunk before havin' ya way with them. Maybe when ya done ya could bring her on over ta mah room." Laughter echoed from the men at the bar. Remy shuddered and made his way to the pitiful room he got to keep for the night.
Unsure of what he was going to do next, Remy fumbled with the doorknob, trying to balance Anna and open the door at the same time. To his surprise though, the door opened for him from the inside, a slender blond women leaned against the door frame wearing a shirt too short to cover everything. She smiled at Remy seductively but her smile faded quickly as she set her icy blue eyes on the girl in his arms.
"What are ya still doin' here." It was a statement, not a question. Remy pushed past the woman and strode towards the bed in the middle of the room.
"Ah thought ya and meh could have a little more fun…" the woman pouted. Remy ignored her and she snarled, "But Ah see ya'll have other plans." She crossed her arms under her chest.
"Ah thought ya'll would want somethin' a bit more…lively."
As Remy set Anna on the bed, he straightened. The very idea that he would do any such thing to Anna sickened him and such an insinuation angered him. His one night stand had chosen the wrong night to pick a fight with him and he wanted her gone before he did something he regretted.
"Get. Out." The words came out restrained and controlled, but inside he was raging. He would not look at the woman.
"And if Ah don't wanna?" The woman asked it innocently enough, but it angered Remy enough to turn around and walk to the door, holding it open for the blond moron before him.
"Get Out!" he yelled at her, determined not to move until she left.
Finally getting the message, the woman grabbed her pants and slid into them.
"Fine. Ah'm gone." She huffed, walking past him without a second look.
Remy slammed the door so hard behind her it shook. He then proceeded to punch the door over and over until he could no longer feel his knuckles. Leaning his head against the cool oak, he squeezed his eyes shut. Too many emotions were running through his head right now and he wanted so bad to just blow something up, but it wasn't safe in a building full of hicks who would lynch him in an instant.
Letting out a defeated sigh, Remy turned back towards the bed where Anna lay still and quiet. He needed to get her dry and warm, he could sort his thoughts out after and maybe come up with some plan of action or at least figure out where the pair of them would be going from there…
"Fuck…" the soggy Cajun raked his numb fingers through his hair. Where did that thought come from?
He looked back at Anna with a touch of regret before entering the disgusting bathroom. 'They' weren't going to happen. Remy had been a loner for as long as he could remember and that wasn't going to change now. He would clean her up and drop her off somewhere safe. End of story.
Remy grabbed two towels off the rack, yellowed and ragged with age, he held one under the tap, letting it soak up the warm water that he ran, then walked back to the bedroom. Lifting Anna out of the soaked duster, he tossed the soggy garment to the side and placed her back on the bed. He began washing away the sticky blood that was all over her throat and chest with the wet towel. Releasing a breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding, his eyes fell down to her still form, her chest rising and falling with each breath. Remy blushed.
The claws were gone, as was any trace of the assault. Her skin was smooth, a pale peaches and cream complexion. She had to be younger than Remy, but not by much. She was old enough to have developed enough curves to make most men turn their heads if she walked by. Her face was soft and round and her lips full, a natural pout to them. Her hair was striking: thick auburn locks pulled back in a loose ponytail, leaving a stripe of pure white loose to frame her face. For the second time that night Remy's breath caught in his throat. She was beautiful.
As he stared down at her lean form, Remy's face turned a shade darker and he quickly looked away. Considering what he had seen that night and what Anna had just been through, it did not strike him as very appropriate to be having such feelings, didn't seem right, and even though no one was there to see it, Remy was embarrassed by the lack of control he had over the lower regions of his anatomy.
Remy blindly laid the towel over Anna after a few minutes and slowly dried the rain from her skin, trying hard not to think about the feel of her shape beneath the towel, hoping not to wake her. When she stirred Remy held his breath, waiting for her eyes to open, but they remained closed, her breathing steady. Remy breathed again as he tossed the towel to the floor and pulled the blankets over her, tucking her in.
Exhausted, Remy walked over to his own duffle bag in the corner. He opened it and removed some dry clothing. Black jeans, socks, a long sleeved burgundy shirt. He changed and grabbed the duffle that he had found with Anna, hoping that she had her own clothing tucked within it, otherwise he may have yet another problem to face that night. He was relieved when he opened it and found that it was mostly clothing, expensive clothing, and, to Remy's astonishment, cash. Wads of hundreds were hidden within a soft green sweater. He recognized that they had packed in a hurry, only taking what they needed for the next few days. What were they running from? Remy could only guess that they were running from Creed.
So he and Anna had something in common. He stared down at her soft face in thought, the question that had bothered him before suddenly returning to gnaw at him: what had made Creed leave?
"What did ya do ta him petite? Ta make him run…" Remy reached out to brush a few strands of white from her face, as he did so the tip of his fingers brushed the soft skin of her cheek and he gasped.
Remy wasn't sure what had happened exactly. His sudden dizziness upon touching Anna. Her eyes snapping open only to reveal, to Remy's extreme disbelief, his own red on black eyes staring back at him. He had snatched his hand away at the sight and she had jumped out of the small bed, tumbling to the floor. Crawling to the corner where she sat cowering, she pulled her knees up to her chest.
"Non! Qu'est-ce qui arrive? C'est un cauchemar. Je veux me réveiller. Permettez-moi s'il vous plaît de vous réveiller!" (No! What's happening? This is a nightmare. I want to wake up. Please let me wake up!)
Anna's sudden outburst in French was prefect, as if it had been her native tongue, and as Remy steadied himself he realized with some amazement and horror what had happened. The claws and the healing factor, those were Creed's mutation, Remy knew that well. Then there was the sudden pull as Remy touched her, as if she was taking a part of him, the sudden fear that he was in danger, the change in her eyes, the perfect French…Anna could somehow absorb a part of anyone she touched. But if that were the case, how could Creed have touched her, unless her mutation had been triggered by the whole event, which seemed more than likely to Remy as he thought about how his own mutation had been triggered, while getting a particularly harsh beating for almost being caught on a relatively simple job.
"Sortez de ma tête!" (Get out of my head) Anna hit her forehead on the top of her smooth knees in a desperate attempt to stop whatever unseen entities were tormenting her.
Tears escaped Anna's eyes as she kept mumbling about waking up from the nightmare. Remy couldn't take anymore. He grabbed the ugly blanket from the bed and swiftly wrapped it around Anna's shoulders. He kneeled in front of her and she stared up at him with those eerie eyes that Remy had only ever seen before reflected in the mirror.
Instinctively Remy reached for her, wrapped his arms around her, careful not to touch any skin that may be exposed. When she didn't object to the sudden affection he pulled her into his lap. She buried her face in his chest and he hugged her to him, trying to comfort her. She began to sob uncontrollably, letting everything go all at once.
"Ce n'est aucun cauchemar, peu un. Et pour cela je suis désolé vraiment. Mais je ne permettrai à personne de vous faire mal bien. Jamais de nouveau." (This is no nightmare, little one. And for that I am truly sorry. But I won't let anyone hurt you okay. Never again.) Remy whispered the words into Anna's hair softly, inhaling the faint smell of lavender and roses. His own eyes filled with sad tears, unable to hide the raw emotion he was feeling at that moment. There was something about the girl in his lap that made him feel more emotions than he had felt in a long time. He wanted more than anything protect her from the horrors of the world that lay outside the room they were now in, knowing that she had been through enough to last a lifetime.
Slowly the sobbing ceased and Anna looked up at Remy once more, her eyes back to their stunning green.
"Promesse?" (Promise?)
Remy stared down at her, stunned. He could not fathom how she could put such faith in someone she had just met. Sure, he had tried to save her, but he had also failed at doing so, and as he had laid there unconscious, that monster had tormented her in ways no one else would ever understand. He wondered how she didn't hate him for letting it happen, but then it occurred to him that she probably didn't have anyone else. She was relying on a complete stranger to keep her safe because she had no other choice, Remy knew the feeling all too well. He didn't hesitate, he was willing to promise her the world to see her tears stop.
"Oui, Remy promise."
As Anna went to lay her head back against Remy's chest, he caught a faint glimmer of something other then sadness and fear sparkle in her eyes. He wasn't sure, but perhaps it was trust. Never before had anyone ever really trusted him, put any real faith in him, he couldn't throw that away. He knew that no one else could understand what she had been through, but he had been there, he had seen the damage first hand. She needed him, and he needed her. That was something he had tried not to admit to himself since he had left his family, that perhaps he needed someone; someone to believe in him, believe he wasn't just another unfeeling lowlife that could do nothing but harm to all the people around him. No, he would never hurt the beautiful creature that sat quietly in his lap.
Remy stared at the wall across the room, deep in thought. When Anna's breathing finally calmed, becoming steady and in sync with his own chest rising and falling, he kissed the top of her head lightly and buried his face in her hair.
" Je crois que je peux vous avoir donné le dernier morceau de ma petite du cœur, peut-être vous serez en mesure de le protéger pour moi...." (I think I may have given you the last bit of my heart little one, maybe you'll be able to protect it for me...) he said absently, without restraint, knowing that the exhaustion had finally taken her body into, what Remy hoped was, a peaceful sleep.
xXx