Part 12 - Worst Poisons to Men's Souls

Mercy was frantic; Simon had been due home hours ago and was not answering his cell. No one matching his description had been brought into any hospitals within a hundred miles--she'd called them all--and no one had seen him since he dropped Tante off with Remy and Jules the night before. It was getting close to morning, and he was still nowhere to be found.

She'd never been the type of person who dealt well with sitting around doing nothing when something was clearly happening. But someone needed to be at home in case he returned. So Mercy sat and did nothing, fidgeting in the nervous silence of her suddenly too large home.

Jean-Luc and Henri had gone out to search for the woman's second son, dispatching nearly the entire Guild to help. Nico had taken Ani with him in a borrowed car; Lapin dragged Christien along on his own search; Emile and Theo were scouring the entire county on motorcycles. Lucille was there trying to comfort her cousin-in-law, but, despite the petite brunette's best efforts, she wasn't helping.

"What if he's hurt?" Mercy blurted to fill the silence, tears stinging her eyes as her voice cracked, "What if something bad's happened? Lucille, he's my baby. I-I just... I can't take watching him die a second time."

"I know, miel," Lucille answered, pulling the taller blonde into a comforting, sisterly embrace. She guided Mercy's head to rest on her shoulder before soothing, "I'm sure he's fine. Dey're gonna call any minute saying dey found him. You'll see."

It seemed like the moment when the phone would miraculously ring. Mercy stared at it for what seemed like forever and began to sob when the room stayed smotheringly silent.

xxXxx

Simon wasn't exactly sure how long he'd been driving and didn't remember ever making a conscious decision as to his destination. It surprised the teen when he suddenly found himself back at the hidden manor in the swamps just as the sun was spilling over the horizon.

Mindful of Jules' vulnerable mind, he parked his truck nearly a mile away and walked slowly towards the house, trying desperately to calm down, to quiet his fear, panic, and anger. To stay conscious as his head throbbed and bled.

She heard him anyways, the girl barefoot and only half-dressed when she came stumbling clumsily down the long drive. "Petite," Simon called, running sluggishly to meet his baby cousin, who was now a wild-eyed, lanky teenager in an almost unfamiliar body. He caught her as she hurled herself into his arms, admonishing, "What you doing out here dis early? And why ain't you wearing your shoes?"

Sniffling, shivering in the early morning chill and a thin set of faded blue, short-sleeved pajamas, Juliette buried her face against the teen's lean chest and mumbled, "Heard you coming. Really mad and scared and hurt! I was worried."

Simon managed an affectionate chuckle, squeezing Jules tight against him as he pressed a kiss against the fresh bandage on her temple. "I'm alright," He half-heartedly assured, "Just need a staple gun so I can fix my head. Think dis place might have one lying around?"

An almost unhinged giggle bubbled up out of Jules' throat, her spindly arms winding around his neck. "Non, but I'll bet Tante'll sew it for ya," She joked lightly, "Even embroider it real pretty. You want flowers or butterflies?"

"Brat," Simon sighed, still dizzy, getting very tired now that he was someplace safe and could finally relax. He was having a hard time staying on his feet, wobbling precariously as he announced, "Think I need to get inside and lie down. You feeling up to helping me a bit?"

Nodding, Jules quickly arranged them so that her big cousin was leaning heavily against her bony shoulder. Simon took a moment to once again marvel at how much height she'd gained in the two short months that had passed since her powers manifested. She had to be at least 5'5", probably even taller. He dreaded the possibility that she might outgrow him.

She was also becoming even more devastatingly beautiful, lean and long and developing lovely womanly curves. The possibility--inevitability, really--that she would one day be chased after by a bunch of horny boys was also quite frightening to Simon. He didn't want to ever kill again but knew that, where Jules or any of the rest of his family was concerned, he was more than capable.

"So what happened?" The raven-haired mutant questioned pleasantly as they began walking back to the house, "Everybody's been looking for you since last night."

Simon frowned; he hadn't thought about that and instantly felt guilty that he'd probably made his parents sick with worry. Again. "Long story, chéri," He muttered tiredly, "Tell ya after I call mon père."

xxXxx

"I-I think I killed a cop."

Henri's heart nearly stopped when he hurriedly pressed his cell to his ear and heard his son's voice utter that phrase. "What?" He demanded shakily, hands tightening around the steering wheel of his car. It became a struggle to keep his eyes on the road and the vehicle from swerving out of control. In the passenger seat, Jean-Luc leaned in closer to catch the conversation. The old man had good ears.

"I think I killed a cop," Simon repeated, voice trembling and stunned and weak, "Last night. I didn't mean to. I don't even know how it happened-"

"Where are ya, mon fils?" Henri cut him off, for the moment unable to handle any information aside from his son's location and an assurance of the boy's safety.

"At de swamp house with Jules," The teen answered shakily, "I'm real sorry. I didn't mean to disappear but I wasn't thinking straight. And my head is killing me."

Henri slowed his car and pulled over to the side of the road, not trusting himself to drive as his heart began to hammer erratically and his stomach contorted itself into vicious knots. He let out a shaky breath before instructing, "Stay put. And call your maman to let her know you're alright. She ain't gonna calm down 'til she hears your voice. Me and your grand- père are on our way."

"'K," Simon slowly stated, pausing for a beat before adding, "Uh, wait. Jules wants to talk to you."

There were some sounds of shuffling as the phone was handed off. Eventually, Juliette's light, really rather eerie voice came through the phone's speaker. "Bonjour, Oncle Henri," The girl greeted pleasantly, almost-laughing, "You should probably bring Monsieur Gaulle up here with you. Simon's gonna need some new staples in his head. We couldn't find a staple gun or else I could do it."

"Merde," Henri swore, closing his eyes tightly because he felt like he was about to cry, "What happened?

"I guess Simon killed a cop," Jules replied, a shrug clearly evident in her little voice, "He ain't told me de story yet, but, from de way he looks, de cop might've had it coming."

Henri could barely whimper as he let his forehead drop to touch the steering wheel.

"Ok," Jules bubbled brightly, "I guess I'll see you in a little while. Don't worry, I'll take good care of Simon. Au revoir"

The other end of the call went dead but Henri couldn't find the strength to move the phone away from his ear. He was freaking out. He'd just gotten his boy back and this was not happening again.

"Why don't I drive," Jean-Luc suggested kindly, laying a comforting hand on his grown son's broad shoulder, "It'll be a few hours and you really need to work on calming down 'fore we get dere or else Jules'll start screaming and Remy'll kick you right out."

Nodding, Henri got slowly out of the car and walked around to the passenger side.

xxXxx

After hanging up with his tearful and relieved maman, Simon sighed heavily and stretched out across the floor of the sitting room. He was careful to keep the towel Jules had provided pressed against the back of his skull so his blood wouldn't make too big a mess.

The little mutant girl was lying beside him, her eyes closed as she rested her ear against his heart and hummed in time with the strong, lazy pound it was sounding inside his ribcage.

"Alright, petite?" He questioned blearily, reaching out to card his blood-stained and -sticky fingers through her silky raven hair. Had he had more of a coherent thought process, he might've felt guilty and stopped, but, as it was, the contact made him feel infinitely better about his situation.

"Mhmm," She happily replied, "You're quiet. No screaming inside my head. Just a nice thump thump thump... I know that you're scared but you're not yelling it. Only a little whisper."

A sheepish grin crossed Simon's freckled face. "Well, I'm glad I don't hurt you," He stated, "And I'm only scared cuz I ain't really sure what I did. I mean, I know what happened, and I know what I think it means, but..."

"It doesn't make sense," Jules finished, curling against him like a contented kitten, "You're not de freak. I am."

"You're not a freak," The blonde sternly admonished, holding his cousin closer, "Don't ever let me catch you saying dat again or I'll kick yo' skinny little behind, y'hear?"

"Promises, promises," Jules laughed breathlessly, suddenly wincing.

Simon continued to tenderly stroke her hair, asking, "What is it?"

"Papa woke up," She declared, her voice breaking into a helpless whimper, the coherency and lucidity she'd grasped onto already slipping, "His dreams were quiet cuz dey weren't about me and now I'm all he can think about. He tries not to let me hear but he's so loud sometimes. Worry, worry, worry, fear. Worry, worry, worry, fear. Worry, worry, worry, fear, anger. It's all he ever thinks about and it makes him sting."

The two remained quiet for a few moments while Jules took deep, shuddering breaths. Finally, Simon gently inquired, "Why don't you tell him he's hurting you?"

Sniffling, Juliette replied, "Cuz he'll leave and I'll be all alone."

"No, you won't," The blonde argued, his whole body feeling like it was spinning though he was lying completely still on the cool floor, "You're never alone, petite. You got dat? Never."

Jules didn't say anything for awhile, beginning to shudder and cry as she curled against Simon's side. "Papa's gonna check on me soon," She stated sadly, "He's gonna see I'm not in my room and he's gonna panic. Sorry if I start screaming."

Simon continued to pet her hair, wishing he had the energy to do something, to warn his uncle as he soothed, "You got nothing to be sorry for, ange."

Jules already wasn't listening, breathing hard as she tried and failed to stay in control for just a few more seconds. She turned her face against Simon's chest and began to shriek.

xxXxx

Jules was not in her bed and Remy was struck with a brief moment of absolute terror.

Almost instantly, he heard her answering screams come from downstairs and was running before he could think to run.

By the time he arrived in the vast, dingy sitting room, the auburn-haired mutant had mostly gotten a hold on his own emotions. His gaze fell to his daughter, on the floor and weeping pitifully into her big cousin's lean chest as the boy tried weakly to comfort her. Remy didn't quite know why Simon was there or why his head was bleeding but could clearly see the concern in the teen's soft brown eyes, concern that quickly became annoyance as he turned them on his uncle.

"Go for a walk, Uncle Remy," Simon ordered impatiently, not leaving very much room for argument, "Come back when you can be quiet."

It was very hard for the man to obey; every instinct he had was urging him towards his daughter, urging him to close her tightly in his arms and take away all her pain. But this time he was the one causing it and he had to go.

Remy turned and ran from the house, ran as far as his scarred lungs could carry him. Somewhere deep in the swamp, he let himself collapse on a fallen tree trunk and began to sob.

xxXxx

Simon met them on the sweeping patio of the house, reclining lazily in a rocking porch swing. He was bloody and battered, and his gaze was far off, but the young man was still managing to attempt conversation with his distraught uncle. Remy had been sitting on the stoop for hours; he refused to move or to pick his head up out of his shaking hands

Jean-Luc slowed the car and jumped out. Henri quickly followed and both men rushed to aid their sons.

"Papa," Simon whined petulantly as his nervous father began to inspect the gash just above his hairline on the right, "Papa, quit it. I'm fine. You gotta calm down!"

"You disappear, den call me up saying you killed a cop, den I find you beaten to hell, and you want me to calm down?" Henri bellowed, rather irate by that point, "And just how do you expect me to do dat, boy?"

"I know, Papa," Simon pouted, the blonde not looking anywhere near seventeen-years-old as his brown eyes glistened up at his father, "I'll explain it all, but you gotta relax or else Jules is gonna feel ya!"

A self-pitying moan came from Remy and Simon shot him a harsh glare. Jean-Luc, seeming to catch on, pulled his younger son up from the steps and sagely suggested, "Come on, Remy. You and me are gonna take a walk to clear our heads, d'accord?" The auburn-haired thief allowed himself to be lead away without resistance.

When the two were gone, Henri fell back to inspecting Simon's injuries and very shortly discovered that the staples on the back of his boy's head had been split wide open. Absolutely furious, the stocky brunette's face went rigid and stony as he demanded, "Who did dis to ya?"

"Traffic cop," Simon answered, wincing a bit before slapping his father's hands away, "Leave it be. Tante said it stopped bleeding serious hours ago."

"Where is Tante?" Henri asked, firing off questions in a rapid, anxious succession, "What's wrong with Remy? What did de traffic cop do to you? He de one you killed? Are you alright? What happened?"

"Tante took Jules on a walk," Simon volunteered, slowly getting to his feet and beckoning his father inside the house as he held a blood soaked towel against the back of his head, "Dey're hopefully a few miles away by now so dat she wouldn't feel you when you came. You'd better be quiet though or she'll feel you anyways and probably blow something up. Uncle Remy's upset cuz he hurt her earlier when he worried too loud."

The teen paused for a moment in the kitchen, brown eyes sad as he transparently changed the subject, "Monsieur Gaulle coming?"

"He's on his way," Henri quipped impatiently, "Be here in an hour or so. You didn't answer all my questions. What did de cop do to you?"

With a great sigh, Simon lowered himself into a seat at the table and motioned for his father to do the same. He remained silent for only another moment before blurting, "He stopped me for speeding on de way home last night. Everything was normal until he saw de picture of Jules I've got in my wallet. Told me to get out of de car, and before I knew what was happening, he had me cuffed and pinned on de hood."

An audible growl reverberated out of Henri's chest and all around the spacious kitchen.

"I tried to throw him off," Simon continued sadly, "But dat's when he hit me on de back of de head. When I could see straight again, he started shoving de picture in my face, wanting to know Jules' name and saying nasty things about her. I yelled at him not to, and he hit me again right here-" He gingerly touched his right temple "-I got knocked down to de ground and he started telling me about how de cops've been looking for Jules since her powers went out of control. He said if I told him her name dat maybe he wouldn't kill her when he found her."

Henri's control was slipping.

Almost near tears as he finally confessed the whole horrifying incident, as he finally let loose and broke down, Simon could barely meet his father's gaze. "But he was lying, père!" The young man raged, "I could see it in my head dat he wanted to hurt Jules! Dat he was gonna enjoy hurting her a-and den killing her! I-I told him to go to hell and I was staring right up in his eyes and thinking dat I wished he would walk himself into traffic. He was gonna hit me again, and den... I don't know what happened. He just dropped de baton and walked away. I-I heard de accident and I know he couldn't have survived and it's my fault!"

"Shh," Henri soothed, pulling his strong boy into a tight embrace, letting Simon hide his face as he began to sob, "It's ok, mon fils. Dis wasn't your fault. No matter what, you remember dat."

"But I killed him!" Simon argued, feeling small, helpless and humiliated as his snot and tears ran into his father's t-shirt, as his well-muscled arms and clenched fingers clung desperately to it, "I don't know how, but I did! I killed him, Papa!"

Holding his son as the boy cried, Henri was suddenly terrified for Jules' safety. Simon's grief and guilt were almost too much for him and he wasn't even an empath.

xxXxx

"Ma petite espiègle!" Tante Mattie called, craning her neck all the way backwards and planting her gnarled fists on her plump hips. Watching nervously as Jules shimmied effortlessly straight up a cypress trunk, the woman ordered, "You get yo' skinny behind down from dere right dis second! You gonna crack yo' skull open if you fall!"

"Ain't gonna fall, Tante," Juliette laughed brightly, for once enjoying relative quiet and reveling in it. She'd found just the right amount of pills to take to block out the simple animal minds with no effort at all, was far enough away from the house to ignore the frightened humans in it, and could just barely hear Tante. Even that wasn't so bad; the old woman's thoughts felt like song, like a calming lullaby.

Still, Jules could sense Tante's rising displeasure squeezing around her head like a vise; it was starting to make her dizzy. If the woman kept it up, the girl really was going to fall.

"S'il vous plaît?" Jules pouted down at her, expression angelic and pleading, "I feel good right now and I wanna enjoy it while it lasts."

Almost immediately, the jaws of the vise loosened, Tante's weathered face softening as she conceded, "Alright. But be careful, mon chaton. And you tell Tante if you start feelin' sick, y'hear?"

"Oui," Jules happily agreed, turning back to her climb, "Merci."

In only a few short minutes, the little mutant made it to the very top of the tree. It was quiet up there. So very quiet. Jules closed her eyes and smiled, balancing precariously at the top of the world. A few hours there would be just what the girl needed to start her healing.

xxXxx

"Are you sure dis is a good idea?" Ani LeBeau asked anxiously as Nico guided the car up the swamp house's long drive, "I don't want to hurt Jules."

"Mon père said dat she'd be out of de house all day," Christien piped from the back seat, still fiddling with a pile of electronics, and cables, and tools, "Everyone came to see Simon and decide what to do about him. Dey didn't want her anywhere nearby while all de extra people are around so dey sent her into de swamp with Tante. It's de perfect time for dis. We gonna be long gone before she even knows we're dere."

"Works for me," Nico beamed happily, smiling at his little cousin in the rearview as he parked. He was thrilled that Christien seemed to mostly be over his abandonment issues and was actively going out of his way to help Jules feel better. It was certainly a welcome change from the brooding and bitching the redhead had been engaged in previously.

"De big-ass TV and stereo stay downstairs," The Élan instructed as the three young men piled out of the truck and began unloading boxes of not-exactly-legally-obtained goods, "De little ones go in Jules' and Simon's rooms with de computers and webcams. Videogames stay downstairs and one of de DVD players, too. Leave de movies and CDs wherever and I'll start hooking everything up."

Nico and Ani gave a pair of semi-sarcastic salutes and quickly got to work.

xxXxx

Remy LeBeau was building an impenetrable steel wall around his mind.

He had to, he reasoned, because he never, ever again wanted to hurt his daughter so carelessly. The only sure way he could think of to do that was to completely cut his emotions off from her. He hadn't done so before because he wanted to be able to make her feel loved and safe whenever she became too scared or hopeless, but, after that morning, he just couldn't risk it anymore.

Besides, he needed to start teaching Jules how to build her own walls. He was making a mental inventory of steps as he went, of tricks and ways to make the process easier on her vulnerable mind. It was an exhaustive process, one he wasn't looking forward to watching Jules be subjected, but such was necessary.

They were going to get through this. He was going to get his happy, beautiful baby daughter back.

"Remy?" He heard his father question, the old man's voice far off. Remy pulled himself slowly out of the meditative state he'd entered, opening his glowing eyes and blinking in the harsh light of the setting sun.

"You alright?" Jean-Luc asked quietly, taking a seat beside his son on the sunny swamp bank they'd stopped at so many hours ago.

The mutant gave a worn-out nod, rubbing his temples and sighing, "Oui. I think I did it. At least for awhile." He got to his feet and immediately stumbled, leaving his father to dart out and catch him. The old King of Thieves was far more agile than his age would indicate.

"Let's get you back," Jean-Luc declared, fully supporting his son's drained, dense, dead weight, "You gonna need a long rest."

xxXxx

When Jules arrived back at the house, it felt empty.

But she knew it wasn't.

She knew that Simon was upstairs, in the room he'd been assigned after his father, and mother, and Jean-Luc had decided that it was probably best if he hid out for a little while. She knew he had a terrible headache, that he was drowsy from the pills he'd been given after Monsieur Gaulle stitched and stapled his head back together, that he was crying because he'd killed a man and hated himself for it.

She knew that he wouldn't want to talk to anyone until at least the next morning.

She knew that her father was in his bed as well, absolutely exhausted but... also completely and utterly silent; she could hardly sense him at all. Jules furrowed her brow in confusion and followed the only other mind she could feel in the whole house.

"Ey, petite," Jean-Luc greeted as she wandered into the kitchen. He smiled at her from behind the wide marble counter and his steaming mug of coffee, "How you been?"

"Grand-père!" Jules beamed, skipping happily into his embrace, thrilled to realize how steady and warm the old man's thoughts were. He wasn't intrusive or deafening, and she decided that she loved him all over again.

With a chuckle, the old King squeezed his granddaughter tight and remarked, "You seem to be in a good mood, ma mignonne. I ain't too loud for ya?"

"Nuh uh," Jules replied, smiling as she buried her face against his chest, teasing, "Must be cuz you're so old."

Laughing, he swatted her lightly on the behind, scolding, "Not too old to put you over my knee. Just remember dat now."

The pair held onto their embrace for what seemed like ages.

"Got a surprise for ya," Jean-Luc announced when they finally pulled back slightly, his deep voice filled with mischief, "Though I really didn't have much to do with it."

"I know," Jules sighed elatedly, not bothering to let go, "Simon's staying. Don't worry, I'll take good care of him. I'll walk him and feed him and love him to bits."

"Well, dat," The King laughed, giving his funny little granddaughter a swift kiss right between the smooth crimson horns growing out of her pale forehead, as well as another tender one on the clean bandage taped to her temple, "But dere's more. Nico, and Ani, and Élan came by while you were out. Dey left some presents."

A slow smile spread across her pretty face. "Presents?" The little devil girl inquired, interest apparent.

"Oui," Jean-Luc replied, "Go on and look in de living room and your bedroom. Dose cousins of yours set you up in style."

With a delighted squeal, Juliette turned and skipped out, passing Tante and her fond grin on the way.

"She seems a whole helluva lot better," Jean-Luc remarked as he reached out to pour the old woman a cup of coffee.

"Don't swear," Tante automatically replied, laying down a small basket of wild herbs she'd gathered before sliding the sugar bowl towards herself, "Let's just pray to de Lawd it'll last."

"She'll make it," The King wisely and resolutely proclaimed, "Our Juliette's always been a fighter. Not a thing in de world could keep dat hellion down long... Simon's de one I'm worried about."

Tante's face softened sadly as a tense pause followed. She sipped her steamy drink before gently asking, "How is he?"

Jean-Luc shrugged, replying, "Good as can be expected, I guess. We still don't even understand what happened."

"Po' chile," Tante sniffed, her old heart breaking, "He don't have a murderous bone in his whole body, and here he is with a man's death on his conscience... I just can't believe it's true."

Running a strong, wrinkled hand back through thick salt-and-pepper hair, the King answered, "Oui, me either. But he believes it and dat's all dat's gonna matter."

xxXxx

Jules had a giant TV, a shiny DVD player, a cutting-edge videogame system, and a stereo that could blow out all the windows in the house, should she so desire to; and that was just the living room. The mutant girl was excited to see what else her cousins had left for her as she skipped upstairs towards her bedroom.

On the way, she leaned cautiously outside Simon's door and felt his quiet sorrow; she leaned cautiously outside her papa's and felt... absolutely nothing. That was almost terrifying. She peaked her head in, just to make sure Remy was still breathing and was comforted by the steady rise and fall of his chest as he slept heavily.

Satisfied, for the moment, she continued on her way and grinned happily when she found another, smaller TV and DVD player, as well as a brand new laptop in her bedroom. Knowing that Christien would never stand to not be included in any operation involving so many electronics, Jules instinctively knew that her sweet redheaded cousin had set up the satellite cable and wireless internet in the house. It must have taken him all day, and quite a bit of hardware. The old manor was far away from civilization, after all, and did not have much in the way of modern technology. He would have had to do it all completely from scratch.

So Jules wasn't surprised when she turned the computer on and found that everything was in perfect working order, that her instant messenger automatically signed on and a group conversation window immediately popped up, Christien, Nico, and Ani greeting her, in that order.

Bullwinkle.J: Hey!

St.Nic: Hello, petite!

Little.Orphan.Anatole: Bonjour!

Vaguely aware that her ruby-onyx eyes were rapidly filling with tears, Jules laughed fondly for a moment before her nimble fingers began flying over the keyboard as she typed her reply.

JuleThief: Hi, guys! You were certainly busy today.

Bullwinkle.J: Everything working ok?

JuleThief: Of course. You're a genius, Elan.

St.Nic: Me and Ani helped!

Little.Orphan.Anatole: Ya!

JuleThief: I know. Grand-pere told me. Thanks so much. It's amazing!

St.Nic: For the amount of warehouses Christien made us break into to steal all the stuff, it had better be.

JuleThief: Aw, you planned a heist just for me?

Little.Orphan.Anatole: Several. And I almost got bit by a dog.

Bullwinkle.J: No big deal. I wanted to make up for hurting you the other day. I'm real sorry, Jules.

Little.Orphan.Anatole: It was a big dog.

JuleThief: It's ok. I know you didn't do it on purpose. And a lot of it's my fault anyways. I'm sorry I left. I just got so scared.

Little.Orphan.Anatole: Probably rabid, too.

Bullwinkle.J: I understand and I'm not mad anymore. You only left because you thought you had to.

JuleThief: Ya. For all the good it did. Stupid spook broke my head.

St.Nic: Simon had a grand scheme lined up to get back at all the XMen. Guess it's going to have to wait now that he's a fugitive. His timing sure does suck.

JuleThief: Don't tease him. He didn't mean to do it and he feels awful.

Little.Orphan.Anatole: Really?

Bullwinkle.J: What did he do? No one will tell us.

JuleThief: Of course. And he accidentally made a policeman walk himself into traffic.

St.Nic: WHAT? HOW?

JuleThief: He's different now. I think I did it to him.

Bullwinkle.J: How?

JuleThief: Hitting him with my powers. He was supposed to have died, but didn't, and I think that whatever Papa did when he saved me when I was a baby, I must've done to Simon and it changed him, too.

Little.Orphan.Anatole: That actually makes sense. Did you tell anyone your theory yet?

JuleThief: Non, not yet. I'll talk to Simon about it in the morning. I don't think he wants to see anyone right now.

Bullwinkle.J: Well, when we heard he'd probably be staying with you, we stole one more computer and set it up for him in his room. And I made him a new screen name.

JuleThief: What is it? Just in case I feel too lazy to go across the hall to talk to him one of these days, haha.

St.Nic: We decided on Lazarus.

Little.Orphan.Anatole: Thought it was fitting.

JuleThief: Cool, but I don't know if he'll like it.

Bullwinkle.J: Tough.

JuleThief: Since when did you get all heartless?

St.Nic: The little one has grown so much in your absence. It brings a tear to the eye.

Bullwinkle.J: I'm taller than you, smart ass.

JuleThief: Has the whole social order collapsed without me around to keep the peace?

Little.Orphan.Anatole: Haha. Peace. Right.

JuleThief: You're a mean man, Ani LeBeau.

St.Nic: Ooo! Did you hear that our little Ani's got himself a girlfriend?

JuleThief: No way!! Who's the lucky lady?

St.Nic: Yvette Gaulle! They've been sucking face all over the house!

JuleThief: Aw, she's liked him for years! That's SOOOO cute!! Are you going to marry her, Ani? ;)

A long pause in the flow of type followed. Jules laughed at her cousin's apparent embarrassment before Nico began the conversation once more.

St.Nic: Haha, petit frere's gone all quiet.

JuleThief: Haha, so he has. I wish I was there to enjoy the furious blush he's definitely got going!

Bullwinkle.J: Turn on your webcam! We've all got ones, too!

JuleThief: Awesome! You really went all out!

The girl fiddled with the piece of equipment for a moment, activating it before requesting the video link with Ani's computer. After a few moments of not getting a response, she began typing again.

JuleThief: He ain't accepting the link.

Bullwinkle.J: I'll make it go through. Just one minute.

True to his word, a short time later, Christien had the webcams up and running. The redhead grinned brightly into his and gave a shy wave; Nico did the same and Jules smiled and waved back at both.

Ani was unaware that he had an audience. A great big giggle bubbled out of Jules' throat as she surveyed her dark-haired cousin at home in his room. He was talking on his cellphone, probably to his new girlfriend if the dark blush on his cheeks and big stupid smile on his face were any indication.

JuleThief: That's adorable!!

Bullwinkle.J: You say that now. Just wait until you have to sit through an entire dinner with them playing footsie and making googly eyes at each other. It's nauseasting.

JuleThief: Probably not going to be a problem for me in the immediate future, but thanks for your concern.

Bullwinkle.J: I didn't mean it like that, Jules. I'm sure you'll get better in no time. You're you.

St.Nic: Ya. Stay strong, kiddo!

JuleThief: Haha. You know, you hide it better, but I think that, deep down, you're a bigger nerd than Ani is.

St.Nic: Brat.

xxXxx

Jules had several good days all in a row. With her father's mind finally quiet and with Simon there to keep her company, the girl's spirits were picking up. She played video games, and watched movies, and chatted online, and ate all of the wonderful foods Tante cooked for her. The situation was getting better.

Remy had even talked her into doing a little training with all of her powers. Juliette practiced igniting a set of playing cards her father had given her and tossing them into the swamp water, as well as attempting to raise some tentative mental blocks. They seemed to be working; after a week, she was able to tolerate an hour-long visit from Christien. They hugged and laughed and talked and were still best friends. Henri, Lapin, and Jean-Luc came, too. One at a time, the men said brief hellos to Jules, and checked on Simon, and then took Remy out for a lunch to try to help him relax.

But the day after that was a bad day. Jules woke with her head already feeling like an overfilled balloon. She'd overexerted herself and her defenses were low; the closest neighbor, the old widower, was crying for his wife and his thoughts were too much, they had invaded in the night.

She took her pills and tried to ignore the feeling, prayed that it would go away. She was supposed to be making progress. She didn't want to slip back to where she'd been.

Feeling like she was walking underwater in one of those ancient scuba helmets, Jules stumbled out of her room and into the hallway at about the same moment as Simon. Her big cousin was wearing only his well-worn pajama pants, his gold hair mussed from his futile attempts at sleep; he had gotten very little if the circles under his tired brown eyes were any indication. Still guilty over his role in the policeman's death, as well as worried and terrified about his developing ability, he had barely slept at all since he arrived at the manor. He had turned down all of Remy's attempts to help him begin figuring out and practicing with his power.

"Morning," The young man grunted, waiting for Jules to make it to his side before throwing a lean, muscular arm around her slim shoulders, "How you feeling, petite?"

"I dunno," Jules replied, jumpy but slow, already distracted by the dull whine of foreign sound in her head, "Alright, I guess."

"You guess?" Simon pushed, raising a skeptical eyebrow and trying not to wince as the action put stress on the healing stitches near his right temple.

"I'm fine," The raven-haired mutant insisted hotly, unwilling to admit she thought she might be slipping backwards, "Just hungry."

Reasonably placated, Simon guided them down the stairs side-by-side and agreed, "Ya, me too. Let's see what Tante's making. It sure does smell good."

Jules couldn't smell anything; the throbbing whispers in her head were taking too much focus for her to notice much else of her surroundings.

Breakfast passed tensely. Simon was depressed and confused and suddenly even his gentle mind seemed jarring. Tante's humming--Jules had no idea if it was aloud or only in her head--was grating instead of soothing and Remy's thoughts were starting to make it through his shields; he was relaxing and it wouldn't have even mattered if Jules hadn't already been so close to overload. The TV was on, blaring and inane as Remy and Simon flipped between the morning news and a basketball game, bickering all the while about which to settle on. The click of the remote buttons was like someone tapping at the base of Jules' skull with a ball peen hammer. The commercial jingles swirled through the air and their razor-sharp barbs caught hold in the girl's brain, layering over each other and lingering long after they were really over, a chorus of stuck machinegun repeaters. Outside the open windows, the chirp of birds and rodents and the buzz of insects and the steady lapping of water at the swamp shores became a roar. Every creature had a thought. Every creature had an instinct and a will and a desire and, however primitive, they were all suddenly in her head, competing for space and pushing and pushing out against the thick bone.

The sizzle of the bacon in the fry pan was the last straw, the last shrill sensation added to an already overwhelming cacophony.

Dropping her fork with a deafening clatter, Jules slapped her hands down over her ears and began to scream.

xxXxx

After four non-stop hours of listening to his daughter alternately scream and babble and cry, after rocking her and singing to her and crying with her, after exhausting every possible method he could think of to help her pull herself out of the fit into which she'd fallen, Remy reached reluctantly for the syringe of sedatives Alexandre had left in case of emergency.

Because it was an emergency; very much longer and Jules was going to start doing damage; her voice was already hoarse and torn and she was struggling harder and harder to escape her father's protective embrace, to get loose and look for anything to bring the quiet back to her mind. Tante and Simon had been running around frantically, hiding anything Jules might injure herself with if she should break free but Remy knew that she could split her head open just as easily on the tile flooring in the entryway as she could on any of the glass picture frames that had once hung on the walls.

Simon paled when he saw the syringe, brown eyes flying wide as he asked, "What's dat?"

"Sedative," Remy admitted in defeat, fighting to restrain his daughter with one strong arm as she squirmed and screamed and gasped and begged for it to stop.

Standing in front of the living room couch, Simon fidgeted uncomfortably and pressed, "What kind?"

"Why does it matter?" His uncle snapped impatiently, unable to use the needle for fear of injuring Jules; she was moving far too much.

"'Cuz she could have a bad reaction to it," Simon warned nervously, hands twitching as he fought the urge to scratch the rows of numerous stitches and staples in his head.

"Alexandre said it would be ok to use if she got out of control, just to help her calm down," Remy answered gruffly, "Now would you help me hold her?"

"But what if she's taking other things?" The young man went on, shamefully unable to tear his gaze from the floor, "What if she's been taking pills?"

Despite Jules' continued shrieks, the room suddenly seemed eerily quiet as Remy stared menacingly at his nephew. He had to consciously wall up his growing fury. "What?" The auburn-haired mutant demanded, voice low and dangerous.

"I-I'm sorry," Simon stuttered, sheepishly producing an orange plastic bottle from the pocket of the worn sleep pants he had still not changed out of, "She begged me not to tell you! She said dey were de only thing dat helped!"

Another truly terrifying pause followed, during which Jules' screams tapered off into hopeless, bewildered sobs. "I'm so-orry, Papa," The girl managed to bawl between desperate gasps for breath, "I'm sorry. Please, do-don't be mad."

"Non, mon seul amor," Remy quickly soothed, heart leaping with hope because they were the first coherent words he'd heard out of his daughter since she began screaming so many hours ago. He squeezed the girl tight and peppered kisses to the crown of her head, trying to keep up whatever connection he'd managed to forge as he whispered, "I ain't mad at you. I ain't mad. I love you and I just want you to be ok. Can you take a deep breath for me? Take a deep breath and just try to relax. Dat's it. Dat's it, ange. Just you and me. We can do dis. We can do dis. Je t'aime. Vous êtes mon monde entire. 'member what you always tell me? Go slow. I'm right here. Not going anywhere, ma belle fillette..."

Gradually, the gasping sobs began to began to lessen, began to taper off. Jules' slim fingers latched tightly onto her father's worn t-shirt; her glowing eyes slid shut and she collapsed into a fitful, exhausted slumber.

Remy took a moment to calm himself, to cradle his baby in his arms and press a tender kiss to her forehead.

Then he turned to Simon. "Who gave her de pills?" The furious and dangerous mutant demanded.

xxXxx

"There does not seem to be anything physically wrong with you, Mr. Sweet," Dr. Hank McCoy announced, putting the lab results aside as he surveyed his patient. The boy was looking even bluer than he was.

"That's good," Billy replied, startling violet eyes on the floor as he weakly bounced his legs against the end of the exam table, "Can I go?"

The Beast rolled a chair over to sit in front of the boy, lowering his large body into it. "The fact that my tests show no reasons for your symptoms only raises more questions," He stated, voice calm and gentle, "Your teachers did send you down here for a reason, after all."

Still refusing to look up, Billy gave an indifferent shrug.

Hank would not give up, listing, "Professors Monroe and Drake tell me you have been falling asleep in both their classes, and that you have been distracted and listless when you are awake. Your eating habits are irregular, at best, and Logan said you have been avoiding gym class altogether with complaints of various injuries and illnesses... is there anything you'd like to talk to me about?"

Another shrug.

"Anything at all," Beast kindly pressed, trying to meet the boy's eyes, "It is part of my responsibility as your doctor to take care of all aspects of your health. That includes mental and emotional... is this about Jules?"

Billy finally looked up, pouting sadly. "I miss her," He quietly admitted, "Her cousin finally set up a computer for her so we've been talking online a lot during the night and I guess I haven't been getting very much sleep... I dunno, I guess I just realized how much I miss her..."

With a fond smile, the furry doctor proclaimed, "Ah, well, I believe I may have a diagnosis for you, my young friend. You are suffering from an acute case of lovesickness."

Billy's face flushed to a dark pink, his mouth falling open in a staunch denial the boy couldn't quite manage to force out.

"No need to be embarrassed," Beast smiled kindly, "It is perfectly natural for a boy your age to have a crush on a pretty girl. I understand you miss her, but please try not to let it affect your health or your academic career. Limit your instant messenger use to a few hours a night... and if you ever need to talk about anything, I am always here."

"Ok, thanks," Billy mumbled, his face still bright as he hopped down from the table and ran like hell.

Beast chuckled fondly, getting up from his seat to begin tidying up the medlab. He turned around and nearly jumped out of his fur. Three men were standing just behind him, a teenaged blonde and a pair of identical, brown-haired twins who looked to be in their late-twenties or early-thirties.

"Heavens," The doctor gasped, a hand flying to his heart, "You startled me! I didn't hear you come in." The three did not react, simply staring in blank silence. Trying hard not to squirm, Hank inquired, "Is there something I can help you gentlemen with?"

They said nothing.

"Are you new students?" He pressed, beginning to grow very worried, "Did the professor send you down for examinations?"

"De professor ain't here," The twin on the right remarked disinterestedly.

The other was quick give a malicious smirk, adding, "He's been called away."

Beast got chills straight down his spine. The professor conveniently being called away, the Cajun accents, they both pointed to one thing.

"Remy sent you," Dr. McCoy announced flatly.

The twins gave a pair of perfectly timed, perfectly feral grins, beginning to circle like predators. "Bingo," One stated, the other immediately chirping, "Give de doc a prize."

Hank was distinctly uncomfortable now and definitely threatened. He tried to keep his eyes on all three men at once but it wasn't quite working. He wasn't sure who to be more afraid of: the circling pair of twins or the blonde teen who still hadn't said a word.

"Remy don't want you giving pills to his daughter," One of the twins warned, low and threatening without actually uttering any promises of violence or retribution.

Frowning, Beast answered, "I am a doctor. I only want what is best for my patients and would never do anything to put any of them in danger."

"All de same," The other twin added lightly, "Remy don't want you giving pills to his daughter."

Hank's gaze cut suddenly to the silent blonde and their eyes locked. The deep, heady brown burned into him and Hank found that he suddenly couldn't look away. He only vaguely registered his clawed hand reaching out to pick up a small pair of surgical scissors from a nearby instrument tray; he didn't know why he then pressed the fine blades against his own neck.

"We know where you live," He heard a strange new voice hiss, sounding like it was coming from inside his own head as he felt the cool steel glide through layers of hair and flesh, "We've already proven we can get to you anytime we feel like it... If Jules ends up with more pills, we're gonna come back and I guarantee you ain't gonna get off so easy... don't give her no more pills 'cuz I really don't wanna have to hurt you."

The voice was harsh but almost... pleading...

Beast's eyelids grew heavy, sluggish. They closed...

What felt like a heartbeat later, his eyes flew open again and frantically scanned the empty medlab.

For what?

What was he doing standing there?

Why were there a pair of bloody scissors in his hand?

And why was his neck bleeding?

The furry doctor barely remembered... a voice warning him not to supply anymore pills to Juliette LeBeau but... he couldn't see any of the faces. It was as if they had been blotted out of his mind.

He took a deep, shaking breath and rushed to find the Professor.

xxXxx

Simon came home from New York after only two days. He wasn't speaking to anyone and didn't say a word before storming upstairs and locking himself in his room.

Since Remy wasn't speaking to his nephew, he didn't give the behavior much thought.

Besides, he was still busy sitting at his daughter's bedside, cooing comfortingly in her ear and trying to coax her out of exhaustion and overload. She was doing better but still seemed delirious, once again unable to keep events in her short term memory or hold coherent conversations.

On the fifth day since her breakdown, the girl opened her eyes sometime during the late afternoon and blinked blearily at the hunched form at her bedside. "Papa?" She asked weakly, expression so frail and lost but voice finally lucid.

"Right here, cher," Remy softly answered, bending to brush a kiss on the girl's pale forehead, "You feeling any better today?"

"Ya," Jules weakly responded, looking about in confusion. After a few brief moments, her face fell further. "I lost it, didn't I?" She questioned hopelessly, "I got bad again."

Remy gave a solemn nod, taking a few minutes to draw his calloused fingers through his baby's soft black hair. Finally, he took a deep breath and murmured, "We gotta talk, mon amour."

"I let you down," Jules blurted out, bottom lip trembling as her glowing red eyes grew heavy with tears, "I'm sorry, Papa. I'll do it better next time. I promise. I know I can do dis. I know I can keep in control."

"Dat ain't it," Remy soothed, "I know better den anyone how hard dis is for you but losing control is gonna happen. It's probably gonna happen a lot. You don't gotta be scared 'cuz I'm always gonna bring you back and we're always gonna keep going. We're gonna beat dis."

Jules sniffled, tears falling.

"We gonna have to go slow," Remy continued, voice soft but scolding, "Real slow. And no more shortcuts... no more pills."

The girl's eyes grew wide.

She didn't remember.

"Papa, I-"

"Save it, petite," Remy cut in firmly, unwilling to bend, unwilling to accommodate when it came to the question of his daughter's health, "I told you dis from de beginning and you disobeyed me."

Juliette's eyes dropped shamefully.

Sighing, the thief tenderly petted the girl's soft hair, soothing, "I know dey make it easier. I know, petite. Dat's what de doctors gave me at first, too. But dey don't last. You build up a tolerance and you have to take more and more just to go on. And den you're addicted and you can't go a day without 'em. It seems like you can deal at first but den dey start telling you dat you're damaging your body, dat you gotta stop... de physical withdrawals are hell but de mental ones are worse... you understand what I'm saying?"

Unable to look up, Jules merely nodded.

Remy touched her chin and slowly brought her gaze back to his. He offered his baby girl a comforting smile. "De pills make it easier," He advised wisely, "But dey ain't de only answer. It'll be slow. It'll be frustrating. It'll be hard. But you're gonna be alright. I ain't going nowhere and we gonna beat dis together."

The girl began to sob openly, flinging herself into her father's arms.

He held her close, stroking her trembling back and murmuring soft words of love and hope.