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Child's Play
After much persuading Jean had convinced Remy that yes he did need to shower today as well as yesterday – "no sweetie it isn't pointless"- and that also yes the clothes were for him. As she watched the little boy survey his reflection in the large mirror, she couldn't help but let her mind wander to the revelations this whole situation had brought about. The telepath wanted to comfort Remy but quite frankly she didn't know how. She couldn't just bring up his trauma and expect him to fall into her arms, cry and then be fine. Her stomach clenched as she thought of the adult Remy. When all this was over would he remember all he had said? Part of her hoped he didn't, she couldn't bear the thought of him feeling shame due to his past. Jean knew the Cajun man was sometimes prone to bouts of melancholia and she was afraid that if he did find out that almost all of his team mates now knew about his troubled past -which he as an adult had obviously not wanted them to know- would possibly push him to do... she didn't know what, but she feared it would probably involve copious amounts of alcohol, swearing, smoking, brooding on the roof and a few fist fights followed by the usual screaming match with Rogue until he would finally storm off for a few weeks until he returned covered in bruises and stinking of liquor and cheap cigarettes. She was pulled out of her worrying thoughts by the current child Remy. "Miss Jean?" she stood behind him trying to comb his hair into some sense of order with her slender finger, "Hmm?" The boy tilted his head back to look at her. "Does everyone hear 'ave somet'ing wrong wit' dem?" She frowned down at him before turning him gently to face her. "Remy. Listen to me; nothing is 'wrong' with anyone here. Nothing. We're mutants, we are different yes but that doesn't mean we're any worse than anyone else. Our differences are what makes us well, us. Do you understand sweetie?" The young boy nodded then pursed his lips and shrugged. "Fagin says dat my eyes are weird, dat dey de sign of de devil. And, and people call me names coz of dem. I don' t'ink dey make me anyt'ing good. At least you can do somet'ing and de oders mostly look normal and monsieur Henri is real smart. I's jus' a freak." Jean took a moment before replying to ensure her voice didn't shake too much. "Remy, when your older I'm sure you'll be able to do something too and for the record I love your eyes. They're beautiful and you're not the only one with different eyes when Ororo uses her power her eyes go white. As white as her hair and Betsy, she doesn't dye her hair purple. And what about Scott those glasses he wears are the only thing stopping beams from his eyes shooting holes in things. But none of that makes them weird, it makes them special. Just like you." The boy seemed to consider this, "You really t'ink I'll 'ave a power when I'm grown up?" She noted his avoidance of the original subject but decided to leave it for now she knew that he would learn to accept his eyes to some degree. "I am absolutely certain you will sweetie. A really cool one too, like oh I don't know making things 'go boom'." The boys widening eyes and grin made his opinion on the matter obvious. "What can Ororo do? When her eyes go white?" Jean chuckled at his open curiosity spurred on by the idea of powers. "Ororo? Well she can control the weather, bring out lightening and rain or make it sunny. Her mutant name is Storm..." Remy didn't see the glint in Jean's eye as she continued, "But she prefers to be called 'Stormy' she pretends she doesn't but really she loves it." She almost felt guilty at the young boys trusting nod, the telepath was sure that if she peeked into his mind at that moment she would see that piece of information being filed away somewhere for later. She crossed to the door and held out her hand, "Should we go explore outside?"
Warren sat at his big desk in his big office in his big tower owned by his very big company, he was bored. He was incredibly bored, he had signed numerous papers, attended three meetings and it still wasn't five o'clock. Technically he was the boss so he could leave at any time he wanted, he could tell his p.a. he was off to the golf course to seal some deals and schmooze then hightail it back to Westchester but he had already used that excuse twice this week. He couldn't deal with anymore withering looks from the board right now, so instead he continued to sign the papers being shoved under his nose and counted away the hours until he could go home. He found it rather frightening that when he thought of going home his brain conjured images of him hanging out with Remy the child. It seemed he was harbouring secret fantasies of being a big brother- he saw Betsy's raised eyebrow- or maybe he conceded, a really cool uncle. He hoped those feelings died down, Warren seriously doubted that once Remy was back to normal he would appreciate him trying to kick a soccer ball around with him or give him piggybacks. He laughed out loud at the absurd thought causing his rather stern receptionist to glare at him through the glass wall separating him from her desk.
"So it should work, Remy will be restored to his adult state. I am not entirely certain whether he will remember his time as a child but we'll have to cross that bridge when we come to it." The professor nodded at Hank over his steepled fingers, "Good. I see, and when will Doctor Strange be able to do the necessary ceremony?" Hank cleared his throat and shifted in the almost too small chair in front of Charles's desk. "At the moment he is abroad but he should be able to come by in a week or so. Until then we shall just have to do our best to entertain our young friend and keep him out of trouble." Xavier chuckled as they both turned to see said young boy race past the window chasing Bobby with what looked to be a rather large worm while Jean stood off to the side laughing hysterically. "Easier said than done." The older replied wryly as the X Man Iceman tripped over his own feet and was jumped on by the giggling child dangling the worm over the prone man's face.
Remy was having the best time of his life. Sure he wasn't completely sure where he was and why and when he asked the adults either changed the subject or gave some vague cagey response or in Betsy's case simply ignored his question, got up and walked away from him without saying a word. But, he was happy, he was having fun that didn't involve running away from someone after being caught trying to pick their pocket. No one here was mean to him even Logan who seemed grumpy and scary had given him a cookie earlier with a wink and a whispered "Don't tell red or four eyes." So Remy decided he wouldn't question his presence here lest it hasten his departure from the big warm food filled house. Remy dangled the worm lower over Bobby's face before the older man threw him off into a pile of snow. He was especially glad for the new coat Miss Jean had given him; he hoped they would let him keep it when he had to leave. Of course New Orleans was a lot warmer than this place but it would still be nice. He watched Bobby perform a few tricks with the ice and he even promised to let him slide down an ice slide when the others weren't watching. Controlling and creating ice was Bobby's power which was really neat, but Remy much preferred the idea of blowing things up. They were forced to stop their play when Ororo- Stormy he reminded himself- called them into the house for hot chocolate. He raced Bobby to the door leaving Jean to follow behind at a more sedate pace. Monsieur Scott met them in the hall and helped Remy off with his coat and brushed the snow out of his hair, smiling down at him fondly. The adults talked over the hot chocolate in the living room, Remy was content just to listen and enjoy his drink and the crackling fire as he was huddled in between Scott and Jean on the love seat.
Rogue sighed as she sat in the hard plastic chair. Her flight had been delayed again, she hadn't even left Scotland yet and she was bone tired all she wanted was to get back home to the mansion and curl up in bed. Possibly with a certain Cajun thief by her side, not close enough to touch of course but close enough to feel his heat. Was that too much to ask, she thought to herself as she glanced at the departures board once again. A small child pointed at her and loudly asked its mother "why does that lady have funny hair" causing the other travellers to turn and look at her too. She really, really hated children.