Ahhhhhh! I seriously need more free time so I can write more fanfiction. Having a job is too much work, yo!

Anyway, feel better because this chapter is 1000 words longer than the last one! Hooray! And I think you all will like it!

Thanks for sticking with me & for all the reviews. You guys are awesome.

And now, a little more background on Remy, eh?

Turning Point - Chapter 10

The LeBeau Family: Reprise

FLASHBACK

Remy took in a deep breath, he could see the way Mercy was looking at him, or looking through him rather.

Mercy's eyebrow lifted slightly as she looked at her brother in law. There had always been a tight connection between the two of them.

Meeting Henri as a young teenager, Mercy knew she had found her future husband. It was as clear to her as it was to the rest of the Guild that one day she would become a Thief. The two were married 3 days after her eighteenth birthday.

As the only young woman in the mansion, Henri and his cousins were surprisingly gentle around her and it was relatively pleasant, aside from the assumed subservient behaviors. Henri worshipped the ground she worked on, and she loved him just as much, if not more.

Of course, the only person that could rival the amount of love that Mercy had for Henri was her adored brother in law.

Mercy was all ready on the way to becoming a LeBeau. Apparently, Henri had made his intentions clear to Jean Luc the day he met the soft-spoken blonde girl, saying that he had no doubt that one day, they would be married. After that moment, she was welcomed into the Mansion and was almost always at Henri's side.

When Jean Luc brought a 10 year old, dirty, scared, little boy home, Mercy had been there. The glint in Jean Luc's eyes gave away the scheming that was clearly in his mind, but Henri looked at Remy as family, almost instantly.

Whereas Henri did his best to help refine Remy's 'raw talents' and teach him the years of etiquette he had to catch up on, Mercy filled the more maternal role that Remy's life had been lacking.

It would have been clear to any resident of the mansion that Remy was, for lack of better words, messed up. Mercy learned of his fear, his inability trust, and the hell he had to live through, and continue living through. She may have only been 17 when Remy was brought into the family, but she did the best she could to help him become well adjusted. She taught him how to read, held him at night, bandaged the wounds he inevitably received for not following rules, and tried to teach him what family was.

As Remy grew older and his thieving skills became more refined, he quickly rose through the ranks of his Guild. Of course, as he moved closer and closer to the Master title, he learned more and more of what his purpose was to be within the Guild. If that wasn't enough, his mutation also threatened to hurt him and everyone else around him. Henri had also informed Mercy of exactly why Jean Luc had even adopted the boy in the first place.

Mercy watched as Remy dealt, coped, and acted out in the only ways he knew how. She put him to bed when he had too much to drink, helped a considerable number of scantly clad women out of the mansion at all hours of the night, and cleaned out his ashtrays before Jean Luc could notice.

She cooked for him, shopped for him, spent more time nursing him back to health than she would have liked, but most of all, made sure to tell him she loved him every day. She may have just been his sister in law, but she figured that neither of them had LeBeau blood, but they were family. She was fiercely loyal to the younger man, and Henri loved her all the more for it. He loved his brother as well, and he knew that Remy needed Mercy.

Aside from his Tante Mattie, who he thought the world of, Mercy was the only constant woman in Remy's life, and he made it clear that he would do anything for her. As he grew older, he found their relationship evolving and changing. Despite the trials of his life, as he became older and more aware, he tried to protect Mercy from the world; the same way she had always done for him. Although he would never admit it, and often tried to hide it, Remy had a soft spot for Mercy, and probably always would. She became his confidant, his rock, and more often than not, the only thread that ever kept his head above metaphorical water.

Her eyebrow cocked a little bit higher as she tried to make sense of the absolutely ridiculous expression on her brother in law's face.

The edges of Remy's lips slightly turned upwards as he held back from grinning at the woman in front of him. Noticing that Mercy was two seconds away from placing her hands on her hips and tapping her toe against the floor, he decided to just tell her.

He took a deep breath and grabbed an apple out of the bowl on the counter. He was the picture of casual as he leaned backwards against the counter and took a bite. He grinned at Mercy, who was still looking skeptical near the doorframe. "Bella's pregnant."

Stepping toward him, Mercy smiled up at him, "Oh Remy!" Reaching her arms up around his neck, she hugged him tightly.

Briefly, he remembered the days Mercy was taller than he, not him towering over her like he was now. He rested his chin on the top of her head and hugged her back, finally happy that someone shared his excitement.

"Or should I say, 'Oh Papa'?" She hugged him tighter, pressing her cheek against his chest. She could barely contain her elation and couldn't help but giggle to herself. She had spent years wishing for Remy to get a chance at happiness, she had prayed for months for Remy to have a chance to enjoy life; she just wanted him to be happy. No one deserved some good news more than him, knowing the hell he had suffered through, she thought; knowing how long he'd been miserable.

Remy hugged Mercy tightly, keeping her against him so she couldn't see the wetness in his eyes. He had never been so happy, and the fact that his sister in law shared his excitement made him even more elated. The idea of having a baby . . . The idea of having a son . . . he couldn't put it into words.

Honestly, before this moment, before his wife had told him, before he was married, he never wanted a child. In any other situation, with anyone else, it would make sense. Most 20 year olds weren't ready to settle down, weren't ready to raise a family, Remy was beyond that, though. Partly, he never wanted to be permanently tied to Bella, but he also didn't want the responsibility, and, on top of it all, the idea of having a child terrified him. He was scared, terrified in his heart of hearts, that his child would end up the same way he did.

But now. . . Now that Bella was with child, his child, everything changed. He could all ready feel the shifting of his life, of his priorities.

And, he had promised himself that the child would never end up like him.

"Sooo," Mercy pulled back and kissed him on one cheek and then the opposite, "Little brot'er, d' y' know yet?"

He looked down at the woman beaming up at him. It was his time to look skeptical, "Know wat, belle soeur?"

"Know wat de bebe's gonna b'?" Mercy leaned again the counter next to him.

Putting an arm around her shoulders, he shrugged, but smiled. "Dunno, Merc, but it don' matter t' me."

She looked unconvinced, "Y' really tell'n moi, it doesn't matter?"

"Non," He shook his head once, "All dat matters t' me is dat de bebe is healthy."

"Hm."

"Wat?" He noticed she was still giving him the same look.

"I don' believe y', Remy. I tink y' care at least a little bit."

"Okay," He shrugged and grinned, "Well, mebbe jus a little."

She poked him in the chest and shared his grin, "I knew it! So wat's it gonna b' papa, y' want t' have a little tief o' a little assassin?"

"Well," he winked, "a very small tief could b' a very good ting."

Mercy was laughing out loud, "I knew it!"

Remy's mind wondered again as he thought of the child he'd have in the near future. If the baby grew into a thief, he could teach it all he knew. He could teach the child all that he knew, regardless of what it was. Unlike him, the baby wouldn't be robbed of a childhood like he was. He would give the baby all he had.

He would give the child more than he had; he would give the baby everything.

. . . . . .

FLASHFORWARD

Mercy paused and looked at the chair next to her.

Remy sat anxiously in the sea foam green, cheap looking chair in the obstetrics waiting room. He stood up, the chair squeaking loudly as it shifted on the linoleum floor. He always got fidgety when he got nervous - something nervousness creating nervous energy, and with his body all ready constantly creating energy, he had to shake it off any way he could.

She looked at him curiously as he paced for a few minutes than headed towards the exit. Worried, she turned to look at the husband at her opposite side.

Henri gave a slight nod, "G' follow 'im, mon amour. I tink he needs someb'dy t' talk t'."

"Oui." Mercy stood up, kissed Henri on the cheek, and followed after Remy. She exited the doors that led into parking lot and found him sitting on a bench, some number of feet away from the door, and sucking hard on a cigarette.

Red on black eyes looked up to meet a concerned gaze that was starting back at him. He took another drag, "I tried t' quit, y' know."

"Oui, je sais." Mercy sat down next to him, and leaned against him, in an unspoken response of support, as Remy titled his head away from her and slowly blew smoke out from between his lips.

"Stopped f' a while, did real good b'cause 'f de bebe an' not smokin' 'round Belle. But, dieu, Merc, de stress 'f b'n back 'ere, de stress 'f dis mansion an' dat mansion, and jus tryin' t' deal wit it all. Force o; habit t', I sup'ose."

Mercy nodded and then, never one to beat around the bush, just dove right into the reason she followed him. "Wat's wrong, Remy? I know y'r excited 'bout dis bebe."

Never one to state fears outright, Remy's voice dropped to a whisper, "Wat am I gonna d', Merc?"

"Wat y' mean?"

He sighed, "I don' love Belle."

She nodded slowly and watched as he took another drag, "Je sais. I know, Remy, but d' y' love dat bebe?"

"Oui," he nodded, "He's not even 'ere yet an' I all ready know I love 'im."

"Den dat's wat y' gonna d', dat's wat y' can d'. Y' love dat boy wit all y' got, an' y' jus keep goin' wit Belle de way y' been goin' on wit her."

"Y' know," He looked contemplative, "part o' me still wishes I didn' marry Belladonna. I mean, she's not de girl I wanna b' wit an' I don' love her, an' we sure as 'ell don love each ot'er like y' an Henri d', but. . .but I wond'r if dis bebe made it all worth it, y'know? 'M not sayin' dat I wanna b' with Belle, but I never used t' tink I wanted kids, but now dat 'M gonna have a petite o' mon own, I just feel like. . ."

Mercy listened patiently as Remy trailed off. She could clearly tell he was confused, and, he didn't open up too often so she knew not to say anything to push him.

After a few quiet moments and a few more drags, he continued, "I jus feel like af'tr dis whole marriage an' not gettin' out o' it. . . I just feel like if I gotta live dis life, I'm happy dat 'm gonna get t' b' a papa."

It seemed like a simple enough statement, but Mercy was quiet too, on account of being a little choked up. The last thing she ever wanted was Remy to marry Bella. Sure, she agreed that it was, indeed, a blessing that no more Thief blood was on the streets on account of any Assassins, but. . . But she didn't think it should be at the expense of her brother-in-law's life and the expense of his happiness. He'd never got a break, he'd never had anything. She had watched as Jean Luc repeated used and abused him, watched as his powers nearly destroyed him, watched as he appeared on the steps on the Mansion, beaten and bloody, watched as he'd fallen father and farther away from her and Henri. She watched as he drank, took strange women to bed, smoke, and got high of who knows what.

The sad part was she didn't blame him. She never wanted him to fall apart, she never wanted him to hurt, and if whatever his 'drug' of choice would be (be it drink or woman) would get him through another day, then she figured he was at least a little entitled. And who was she to judge? She tried her best never to judge him, just to help raise him and love him like any sister would.

She swallowed back the lump in her throat and turned around to hug him tightly, blinking back the tears in her eyes.

Surprised, Remy held her back, now becoming more worried about her than he was about himself, "Wat 's it, Mer?"

She smiled at him, "Petite, I nev'r heard y' say y' b' happy b'for."

. . . . . .

PRESENT TME

"Shhh," Remy groaned quietly as he sat up in his bed. He used a hand to rub the sleep from his eyes as he looked towards the crib on the other side of the room. He shushed Lily as he hurried himself out of bed, "Shhh, Liliette, yo' goin' t' wake de whole place up!"

Remy quickly moved towards Lily's crib and wrinkled his nose as he inhaled. He knew that smell.

Vomit.

Looking into the crib, Remy saw that Lily had thrown up on herself, and her new crib sheets. His heart broke at the unhappily expression on her face, but he could also see her face twisting even deeper. She was about to start really crying, and that was the last thing he wanted.

"Mon Dieu," Remy quickly lifted his daughter from her new crib, holding her at arm's length. Trying to get her undressed, he held her against his chest and unbuttoned her one-piece pajamas with one hand and pulled them off of her. He moved towards his own bed and set her on top of it, pulling off his own shirt that now had Lily's throw up on it as well. He balled her pajamas into his shirt and set it aside. He looked over at Lily who was quietly crying and looking all together miserable. Her wide eyes looked up at him, a reflection of his, and wet with tears. Her bottom lip trembled.

How on earth did he ever get here?

Watching Lily as she began to cry louder, Remy felt the familiar feeling of life falling apart. He had long come to realization that he didn't get a happy ending, but why is it that he couldn't provide that for his daughter? He just wanted to provide for her and it seemed that, barring new furniture, he hadn't done anything right.

His eyes closed for a minute as he took a deep breath, willing the feelings of failure to the back of his mind just for a little bit longer, just so he could take care of his daughter.

"Oh bebe," He frowned, a mix between sadness, disappoint (at himself, not her of course), and worry, "Don' cry, petite, c'mere." He lifted Lily up and held her close to his chest, bouncing her slightly to try and quiet her down. He kissed her forehead, the same way his Tante had done to him in his younger days, and was pleased that it didn't feel warm. At least one thing was going well, he thought bitterly.

He pulled the sheets from Liliette's bed and added them to the pile of his and her clothing.

Sighing heavily, he tried to shake the sleep from his mind. Typically, he was always buzzing with energy despite the number of hours he had rested, but these last few days had been completely different. He wasn't about to say anything – to anyone – but the emotional toll this whole mess was taking on him was much worse than he would have wanted; much more than he would had ever expected. He had been through worse things than he could have ever imagined in the past, he should be able to make it through parenting.

He could still smell vomit and, wondered if he could remember where the laundry room was. To be perfectly honest, he wasn't paying complete attention when Piotr had pointed it out the previous day.

He sat Lily back down in her crib, but as soon as she was out of his arms, she began to cry again. He picked her up, made soothing noises, and as soon as she quieted, he went to put her down again. The process repeated itself as she started crying again. His chest hurt, which he could only attribute to his heart breaking, he picked Lily up again.

Moving towards his dresser, he retrieved Lily's pacifier and placed it into her mouth. His daughter still looked unhappy, but as least she wasn't crying anymore.

Grabbing the balled up dirty clothes with the hand that wasn't around his daughter, he silently slipped out of his room.

. . .

Jubilee's eyes widened as she found herself directly across from a pair of perfectly sculpted pectoral muscles. Her mouth went dry slightly as she followed the pecs up to a angled chin covered in a layer of stubble and up a little more to a pair of hard looking, red on black eyes.

Remy's eyebrow dipped down slightly in confusion and annoyance. Not expecting anyone else to be in the laundry room at 2 in the morning, he didn't expect to find some little overly perky teenager folding towels in front of him. Trying to visibly show signs of annoyance, he held back a sigh and decided just to get this over with. If he hadn't needed to use the washing machine so badly, he would have turned on his heel and went straight back upstairs.

He was in no mood to deal with other people right now.

"Hey, Remy." Jubilee blushed slightly, worried that she had got caught, yet again, ogling Remy. She couldn't help it. He was standing in front of her in noting more than a pair of long gym shorts. Also, she could have sworn (and she did when she passed the image onto Kitty the next morning) she could have died with a cuteness overload at the fact that Remy, wearing only shorts, was carrying around an equally as adorable daughter, who was wearing only a diaper. In her words, it was like they wore matching outfits without wearing an outfit at all.

"Allo Jubilee," Remy looked at her, a little awkwardly, as he tired to bounce Lily on his hip to keep her quiet, "I didn' tink anyone else would b' doin' laundry dis late."

She grinned, clearly missing the tone in his voice, "That's exactly why I'm doing it now." She made a couple of faces at Lily, but Remy didn't seem to appreciate it.

"When are y' gonna' b' done?"

It was the first moment that Jubilee noticed the dirty clothes in Remy's hands. He sense of smell also seemed to kick in at the same time, "Geeze, Remy, that stinks!"

His frown deepened and his arm held his daughter a little tighter. "Oui, Lily got sick."

"Oh!" Jubilee expression changed from surprise to concern.

Remy didn't like the second look.

"You must have a lot on your plate then. Why don't you just leave them here? I'll do them next."

He faltered, "What?"

"Well, this load is almost done so I'll just throw them in next."

Remy was obviously confused, but naturally, his cool expression covered up his distrust.

If Remy looking like he felt nothing bothered Jubilee, she didn't make it look like she even noticed. She just folded another towel.

He really didn't feel like dissecting this conversation. He wanted to know what she wanted, and if it would be worth it just for her to do his laundry. He doubted it would be worth it, but he didn't really want to get into that now. Lily still had her pacifier in her mouth, but was starting to twist uncomfortably, and he could have sworn he was starting to feel just as awful as she looked. "Y' do mon laundry?"

Jubilee smiled, as if the fact that Remy was looking at her like she had 3 heads didn't bother her in the slightest, "Sure, just drop in that basket right there. I'll get too it super soon."

Still looking skeptical, he tried to weigh both options. He could either leave the clothes to be laundered by that girl, or he could get in line behind her and wait. As he was trying to decide, Lily began making audible whining noises and it made up his mind for him. He nodded and dropped them into the basket. He turned to head back upstairs, but paused for a moment, "Merci."

Jubilee continued to smile, "It's no problem, really."

With that, Remy made his way up the stairs, making soothing noises to try and keep his daughter quiet.

She may have gotten sick, but he felt sick for other reasons.

The last thing he wanted was to be indebted to another person, and he couldn't help but think that this was only the beginning.

Reviews = love? Review = love! Hooray!