He was staring into infinity and a million potential realities. The universe was almost like what Hawking had described; though he'd neglected to mention the flying space dinosaurs, but that might have been in the footnotes. He felt bits of himself drifting away, his internal catalog scattered to the inevitable expansion of the universe. It wasn't so bad, this whole feeling of being connected to everything. At least he'd finally understand...why. Just why. Even as he lost himself into infinity. The stars were talking to him, whispering about him.
Hey, he said. Hey girl, what's your name?
The star winked.
Bit of a flirt, enh? You can call me…
Call me, what? Ishmael...? No, that didn't sound right.
What's my name again?
Who am I?
Who?
Who dat?!
Hey, I know this one.
Who dat? Who dat?
Who dat say dey gonna beat dem Saints?!
"In other words, three-dimensional reality is an illusion, and that the apparently "solid" world around us...and the dimension of time...is projected from information stored on a flat two-dimensional surface. Like that of a sheet…"
A soft snapping sound of sun-warmed fabric. A white sheet drifting down over his head. Sitting in the center of a large white mattress, a well-loved black and brown teddy bear in his hand, matted fur, missing an ear. Marcel? he wondered.
"Where's Remy?" asked a warm, loving voice.
He laughed...or was it a giggle? Hidden under the white, warm sheet.
"Where's Reh-mee?" the voice sang.
He was crawling forward toward the voice, crawling across the universe. Her hands tickled him through the sheet, through time and space. Laughter bubbled from his throat.
"Where'd my Remy go?"
Pulling the sheet off of his head he announced: "I'm right here!"
He was thrown back together in the most haphazard fashion, snapping back into a corporeal form, finding himself at the bottom of a crater of broken concrete that was slowly filling with mud. Above him, open sky. He couldn't see the stars, it was raining. Of course it was. The rain fell around him, hissing and evaporating before hitting his skin. Guild uniform, not a stitch left. He crawled out of the muck, laying flat on his stomach on the concrete floor, half in and half out of the crater.
Remy closed his eyes. He could hear voices. He heard an agonized scream, abruptly choked off. On the ground above the tunnels, the sound of emergency vehicles approaching. He reopened his eyes, took in the sight of what remained of the monsters, the bodies of those they'd slain. Nothing was recognizable. Portions of the alley had collapsed. The ground was hot, it steamed in the pattering rain. From his vantage point, Gambit could see figures approaching.
A man, short and sturdily built, wearing a uniform in various shades of brown and orange. Face partially covered by a pointed cowl. He was moving towards where Remy lay.
"This guy's seen some shit," Remy thought, looking at the man's expression. Then: "Did I just say that out loud?"
Though he was still overheated, the man turned Remy over onto his back, not even flinching when his hand burned. The man looked down into Remy's face. Remy looked back. It was the Lumberjack.
"Oh, my gosh," said another voice, Ghost Girl. She was just over the man's shoulder. "He's naked!"
"Nude," Gambit thought. Once again, it seemed like his thoughts were quite loud. "Naked is for sex. Nude is for all other times."
"Oh, my gosh!" the girl said again.
Voices now came from his left. His head rolled in that direction. A monstrous blue furred man appeared, carrying in his arms a fallen angel. Or it would have been an angel if the man had two wings, and not just one. The blue man was covered in the not-angel's blood.
"Oh my stars -," began the blue man, spotting Lumberjack and Ghost Girl.
"Can you hear them too?" Remy asked.
"Beast?" called the Lumberjack in surprise. "What-?"
"Warren is severely injured, in shock. We have to get him to the closest hospital!"
The Lumberjack nodded: "Kurt, too. We're heading back to the mansion."
Remy's head lolled back towards the Lumberjack. Yes, over his shoulder Remy could see the Gentle Giant, now somehow even larger and built of steel, carrying in his arms a smaller dark blue elven man. In the giant's arms, the injured elf looked like a small stuffed toy.
"I…" Beast hesitated, then glanced backwards nervously. "We…"
More voices echoed down the alley. A man made of ice slid into view, bringing with him another man wearing a visor.
"Hey, Geordi La Forge has those same specs," Remy thought. "You know, I didn't understand why they have a British guy playing a French vintner-cum-starship captain, but hey, it's Patrick Stewart-Sir Patrick Stewart. And he's ah-may-zing…"
Cyclops leapt from the ice slide bearing him and onto the ground. He ran towards the Lumberjack, who still crouched by Remy's head.
"Wolverine, who is…?" Cyclops began.
"Don't know," Wolverine said. "He's completely out of his head."
"Your head will collapse...If there's nothing in it. And you'll ask yourself...Where is my mind?" Remy sang weakly.
"Logan…" Cyclops said warily. "I have something to tell you-."
"Whe-ere is my. Mind?"
Wolverine tensed then, looked up from Remy. His eyes scanned the darkness. He seemed to be sniffing the air like a dog. "Jean," he said.
A fifth and final figure appeared.
"And what a figure it is," Remy observed. "Hey, girl. What's your name?" He reconsidered his wording. "Excuse me, woman. Because clearly you are no girl."
Now all of these strange people were standing around him in the rain. He pointed at them. "'But it wasn't a dream, you were there. And you, and you, and you!'"
"Has he been like this the whole time?" Cyclops asked.
"My friends, we do not have time for this!" Beast urged.
"Hank, take Warren back to the school," Cyclops said. "Iceman, Marvel Girl, backtrack. See if you can find Callisto, Healer. Bring them to the mansion."
"Don't you think they'll be carin' for their own?" Wolverine snapped.
"There are no injured, Logan. Only dead," Cyclops said flatly.
Wolverine turned. "Shadowcat, you take point. Make sure the others can get through all the debris. Betsy!" he called to no one. "We have injured! Prep the infirmary."
He paused for a moment, listening to some silent response. "Bets says there's been a break-in at the mansion. A theft. Mansion is on lock-down. They're disarming the system now."
"Wuh-oh," Remy said.
Shadowcat, Gentle Giant with the elf, and the Beast with his gruesome burden departed at a run. Marvel Girl approached, untied a gold scarf from around her waist, dropped it over Remy's hips. "So Kitty doesn't pass out," she said with a weak smile.
"Jean-," Wolverine began.
"We'll explain later," Marvel Girl said.
Then she and Iceman turned and departed in the opposite direction. Wolverine grasped Remy by the upper arm and lifted him half-upright. Cyclops on his other side touched his shoulder, then jerked his hand away.
"He's hot!" Cyclops exclaimed.
"You're not so bad lookin' yourself, Slim," Remy observed. "Dat your girl? She's ssssmokin'. Regardless of de Geek Chic thing you've got goin' on, I do think you've outkicked your coverage there."
Resolved, Cyclops seized Remy and pulled him into a sitting position, tied the scarf around his waist.
"Let's go," Wolverine said. "Can you stand?"
"Dunno, which way's up?"
"Were you injured in the explosion?" Cyclops asked.
"I am in the explosion; the explosion is in me. One strange man, me."
"You did this?" Cyclops asked, his voice betraying an element of horror.
"Not on purpose. Dat damn fool idiot Greycrow shot me in de chest. Blew himself up, didn't he? Him and everyone else."
Cyclops and Wolverine shared a look. "Do we risk bringing him back to the mansion?" Cyclops asked.
"We can't leave him here," Wolverine said and together the two men pulled Remy to his feet.
"We'll go slow," Cyclops told him. "There's a lot of wreckage for you to walk over."
"I'm gonna need two pair of shoes...when I get through walking these blues. When I get back to New'orrrlins…"
"Who else was in here?" Wolverine demanded as they began to walk in the direction Shadowcat had led the others. "Morlocks? How many?"
"Like H.G. Wells' kinda Morlocks?" Remy asked, confused. "Pretty sure dat's fictional, friend."
"No…," Cyclops made a sound of frustration. "The people who live here...lived here."
"They got blown up too. But...they were already dead by de time I happened along," here he swallowed a tightness in his throat. "They was little kids in here..."
"Who killed them?" Wolverine asked.
"Monsters…" Remy muttered.
Before they left the alley, Wolverine drew up short. Cyclops was left staggering under Remy's full weight as Wolverine dropped his opposite arm. Wolverine crouched, smelling something in the wreckage. "Creed…" he growled low.
"Oh boy, dis guy knows Creed. That's a bad sign," Remy thought, and not in his head.
Wolverine's attention snapped back to Remy. "How do you know Creed?"
"How do you know Creed?" Remy rebutted.
"I'm the one asking the questions here, bub!"
"That's a pretty one-sided conversation, ain't it?"
"We're not having a conversation!"
"Boy, ain't that de truth."
Wolverine snarled at him.
"Witty repartee, mon ami. Okay, I'll tell you dis. I won't speak ill of de dead, especially not on Halloween. Like I need some Creed haint followin' me around. And if he's a friend of yours, I'm-."
"He is not a friend!"
"Good, because I ain't got nothin' nice t'say about him."
Breathing hard through his nose, Wolverine seized Remy's arm again.
"We can get this sorted at the mansion," Cyclops said calmly. "This isn't the place."
The two men flanking Remy propelled him forward once again. "Whatever is convenient to you, Cyke. Because you call the shots, right?"
"Logan, I don't want to have an argument with you right now."
"I imagine it'd be pretty hard to defend yourself, considering you're leading a group of mutant hunters, and what with you hiding the fact that Jean is now somehow alive!" Wolverine's voice grew in volume as he spoke. When he spoke next, it was with a calm, cruel irony: "It's been awhile since we last talked. Tell me, how's Maddie and the kid?"
"Mon Dieu, this is like a telenovela," Remy murmured to himself. "Don Cyclopso y El Badger."
"We'll take him to the infirmary," Cyclops said, ignoring Wolverine. "He's clearly suffered some kind of brain trauma."
"You're one t'talk," Remy grumbled.
Cyclops shot him a perplexed look. All the while, they had been walking through the tunnels, Remy stumbling over debris in his bare feet. It seemed his extremities were not quite in alignment. Remy thought perhaps the tunnel was becoming more familiar. But he was still so confused in his head, seeing double, like there were two of him. Except another version of himself was doing the exact opposite of what the current version was doing. When at last they came to the intersection with the tunnel leading to New Jersey, Remy could no longer manage even a shambling walk. He collapsed, and the two men slowly let him kneel on the floor, releasing their grip on his arms.
"We're nearly there," Cyclops told him. "It's not much further."
Remy put his hands over his eyes, trying to block out what he was witnessing. He saw himself running down the tunnel to New Jersey carrying in his arms...a little girl. Only in the reality he was currently experiencing, he was certain that girl was numbered among the dead. He moaned and folded over, his forehead pressing against the concrete. "What am I doing? What have I done?" he said miserably.
Wolverine took him by the shoulder. "C'mon, we'll get you to a doctor. You can get some rest."
"Clothes would also be a good start," Cyclops said dryly.
"When did you get a sense of humor?" Wolverine asked him.
"Seemed to happen around the same time I didn't have to talk to you on a daily basis," Cyclops remarked.
Remy coughed out a laugh. "I'm liking this one," he said, waving a hand in Cyclops' direction.
He was pulled to his feet once more. Once more they continued onwards toward the School. They came to the access tunnel that Remy had not that long ago collapsed with his charged playing cards. There were a few people gathered there. Remy recognized Rogue immediately. She was lifting chunks of concrete as if they were made of styrofoam and not a mixture of rock and sand. The Gentle Giant was also moving aside metal pipes, crumbled concrete and dirt. A third figure was silhouetted in the open round doorway, seemingly not doing anything other than monitoring the work going on.
When Cyclops and Wolverine appeared bearing Remy between them, the three other mutants paused to look up from their work. Remy raised his gaze to look at Rogue, to stare into her green eyes. Her face was a portrait of shock, the manhole cover-sized block of concrete she held fell to the ground.
"Remy…?" she gasped.
Remy grimaced. "Hey, girl."
The man in the doorway strode forward and into the glow of light from the work lamps that had been set up in the tunnel. Remy recoiled, stumbling backwards. Cyclops and Wolverine held him firmly.
Magneto pointed a finger at Remy's glowing chest. "That is him. I recognize his eyes. That's the intruder."
Then: "You have a lot to answer for."
Unfortunately for everyone involved, Remy was not very good at answering questions.
Remy's Random References:
Ishmael - Moby Dick, Herman Melville
"three dimensional reality" - quote from scholarly article about Hawking's theory on the shape of the universe.
Geordi La Forge - character from Star Trek: Enterprise
Where Is My Mind - The Pixies
SssSmokin' - The Mask
I am the explosion - redo of the Witness saying to Bishop - I am in jail; I am a jail.
When I Get Back To New Orleans - Walkin To New Orleans by Fats Domino
You were there! - Wizard of Oz
Next time: The interrogation, part one.