Half an hour later Milana groaned softly and opened her eyes, looking
around her surroundings for a moment and then hearing a noise behind her.
"Shh, Remy and your father are asleep," Jean said, smiling down at her. Milana looked to her left and started to smile herself, Kurt was sleeping on a chair, his head leaning against the wall and his mouth slightly open. Remy was actually standing up, his sunglasses covering his eyes but his lack of movement and soft breath giving his actual state of conscious away. That and he hadn't moved, though his face was pointed directly at Milana.
"Ugh, what happened?" she asked softly. Jean looked at her somewhat sadly and sighed.
"Too much," the red haired woman said. "I'm so sorry Milana, I don't know what-" Milana shook her head, and Jean didn't have to read her mind to know when to be quiet. Suddenly Remy started to tilt to one side, and in a second he fell over.
"Wha?" the Cajun said, leaping to his feet and looking around, his glasses falling off. Then he saw Milana and grinned.
"Ah, de belle wake up den, eh?" Remy said, grinning. Milana slowly sat up, her head pounding, just like it had last time she had woken up after... oh yeah, that's why she was down here, that stupid needle. She looked up at Jean, and from the slightly uncomfortable look on her face she knew that the telepath was already aware of the drug, and probably knew that Mystique was behind it.
"Here, these will help with your headache," Jean said, handing Milana a couple of aspirin. The teen shook her head.
"No thanks," she said, swinging her feet over the table and getting up slowly. Remy started forward and Jean was about to protest, but Milana held up a hand walking over to Kurt she hesitated, then put her hand on his shoulder. The blue man started.
"Vot?" he said, shaking his head slightly to wake up. Then he saw Milana standing in front of him and sat up fast.
"Milana!" he said, startled. Milana smiled, then narrowed her eyes.
"You ever get drunk again, I will kill you," she said. Kurt looked down, not even smiling. The guilt on his face was evident, but Milana put her arms around him and hugged him tightly, which after a moment Kurt returned.
"I am so sorry," he said. Milana didn't reply, and Remy looked at Jean, grinning.
"Aw, dis is a lovin' momen', aint it chere?" he asked. Jean rolled her eyes but smiled, looking at the two and then at the Cajun.
"Let them be for a while Remy," she said. "They need to work this out, we all do." Remy arched an eyebrow but said nothing, leaning on the medical table and replacing his glasses over his eyes, muttering to himself.
"Remy see if Lan 'n de ol' frens get over dis," he said. "Lots o' dings t' ferget."
*****************
Two days later three things had spread through the entire school and two of them had been proven. The Ghost had returned, that was proven, also her name was cleared and she had brought a friend with her, a cute mutant who was good at fighting and better at cards. The last fact was proven in card games that Remy, being a card player by nature, had already held two miniature tournaments in the rec room. The third fact, however, was not a fact at all but a rumor that Kurt himself had attacked Milana in a drunken rage, or something close to it, and had been the one to give her the cuts on her shoulder.
Milana was keeping to her room almost 24 7 and had already read two novels when she wasn't talking with Remy or Kurt, who visited her often, though unable to convince her to go outside her room for another two days. The whole atmosphere in the school was tense, some of the kids and adults still doubtful about Milana being innocent, and others confused about what was going on, and more wondering how Remy fit into the mold. But even during the poker games Remy had a few times he wouldn't answer, instead collecting a nice bit of money from gambling.
On the fifth day since Milana's return Remy walked into her room and knocked on the door.
"Petite? Remy gotta talk wid ya," the Cajun called. Milana looked up from her book as Remy came in.
"Yeah? What's up?" she asked. Remy sat at the end of her bed and grinned, shuffling his deck of cards. Milana looked at him curiously but didn't prod, knowing the thief would say what he meant to say when he wanted to say it.
"Remy be t'inking, petite unhappy here, non?" he said, looking at Milana closely through his red and black eyes. Milana looked back, used to the odd eyes by this time, and one of the few. On several occasions her father had implied his opinion of Remy, he wasn't too comfortable around the young man and didn't approve of his lifestyle or occupation at all. But after Milana explained how he had helped her since he had found her in New York he agreed that though the 'boy' sinned he was a good person over all, and thanked him many times for helping his daughter.
"This is my home," Milana replied, looking back at her book. Remy sighed.
"Chere don act like it," he said. "Stayin' in d' room all d' time 'n not talking wit de ol' frens." It was Milana's turn to sigh.
"The professor said it'll take some time before everyone-"
"But does Lan believe dat?" Remy interrupted. Milana looked up and stared at hi straight in the eyes.
"There's a chance," she said.
"Remy tink you don' believe what you wanna believe."
"Remy," Milana said, leaning back and closing her book. "Please, I'm not in the mood for this discussion right now."
"My 'pologies chere," Remy said, shrugging. "Remy jus' wondering if de petite wanna come live wid 'im in de big city." Milana stared at him, her mouth dropping slightly.
"What?"
"Live wid me, petite, den you 'ave a real home, n' Remy won' become 'n ol gray 'ermit." Remy said, chuckling. "Frens ken live t'gether, can't dey?" Milana looked at him closely, but saw only earnestness in his usually joking manner. Milana's thoughts were going everywhere. Was he being serious? Live with him? Leave the mansion, go to New York? She was purple, how would that work? But leave the mansion, even though she wasn't blamed for what happened at the White House openly it was a feeling that followed her whenever she left her room and met someone else. Logan would barely even look at her, though he didn't attack her again and apologized for her shoulder, which was obviously a forced interaction from the professor.
"I- how could I tell you on the spur of the moment?" Milana choked out. Remy smiled.
"Only one word petite," he said. "Yes." Milana kicked at him playfully.
"You have ta give me time to think, LeBeau," she said. Remy nodded and stood up, walking to the door.
"Fine den, you t'ink about it," he said, opening her door. "Jus' hurry, Remy goin' t' his home t'marow. Lan need t' decide by den." He opened the door and walked out, but Milana leapt up, with her book still in her hand.
"You can't do that!" she yelled at his retreating back. Remy laughed as she yelled again. "You can't- stupid CAJUN!" Then she threw her book at him, though it missed, and walked back into her room to think. She needed to decide, but she knew she already had. How was she going to tell *him*?
"Shh, Remy and your father are asleep," Jean said, smiling down at her. Milana looked to her left and started to smile herself, Kurt was sleeping on a chair, his head leaning against the wall and his mouth slightly open. Remy was actually standing up, his sunglasses covering his eyes but his lack of movement and soft breath giving his actual state of conscious away. That and he hadn't moved, though his face was pointed directly at Milana.
"Ugh, what happened?" she asked softly. Jean looked at her somewhat sadly and sighed.
"Too much," the red haired woman said. "I'm so sorry Milana, I don't know what-" Milana shook her head, and Jean didn't have to read her mind to know when to be quiet. Suddenly Remy started to tilt to one side, and in a second he fell over.
"Wha?" the Cajun said, leaping to his feet and looking around, his glasses falling off. Then he saw Milana and grinned.
"Ah, de belle wake up den, eh?" Remy said, grinning. Milana slowly sat up, her head pounding, just like it had last time she had woken up after... oh yeah, that's why she was down here, that stupid needle. She looked up at Jean, and from the slightly uncomfortable look on her face she knew that the telepath was already aware of the drug, and probably knew that Mystique was behind it.
"Here, these will help with your headache," Jean said, handing Milana a couple of aspirin. The teen shook her head.
"No thanks," she said, swinging her feet over the table and getting up slowly. Remy started forward and Jean was about to protest, but Milana held up a hand walking over to Kurt she hesitated, then put her hand on his shoulder. The blue man started.
"Vot?" he said, shaking his head slightly to wake up. Then he saw Milana standing in front of him and sat up fast.
"Milana!" he said, startled. Milana smiled, then narrowed her eyes.
"You ever get drunk again, I will kill you," she said. Kurt looked down, not even smiling. The guilt on his face was evident, but Milana put her arms around him and hugged him tightly, which after a moment Kurt returned.
"I am so sorry," he said. Milana didn't reply, and Remy looked at Jean, grinning.
"Aw, dis is a lovin' momen', aint it chere?" he asked. Jean rolled her eyes but smiled, looking at the two and then at the Cajun.
"Let them be for a while Remy," she said. "They need to work this out, we all do." Remy arched an eyebrow but said nothing, leaning on the medical table and replacing his glasses over his eyes, muttering to himself.
"Remy see if Lan 'n de ol' frens get over dis," he said. "Lots o' dings t' ferget."
*****************
Two days later three things had spread through the entire school and two of them had been proven. The Ghost had returned, that was proven, also her name was cleared and she had brought a friend with her, a cute mutant who was good at fighting and better at cards. The last fact was proven in card games that Remy, being a card player by nature, had already held two miniature tournaments in the rec room. The third fact, however, was not a fact at all but a rumor that Kurt himself had attacked Milana in a drunken rage, or something close to it, and had been the one to give her the cuts on her shoulder.
Milana was keeping to her room almost 24 7 and had already read two novels when she wasn't talking with Remy or Kurt, who visited her often, though unable to convince her to go outside her room for another two days. The whole atmosphere in the school was tense, some of the kids and adults still doubtful about Milana being innocent, and others confused about what was going on, and more wondering how Remy fit into the mold. But even during the poker games Remy had a few times he wouldn't answer, instead collecting a nice bit of money from gambling.
On the fifth day since Milana's return Remy walked into her room and knocked on the door.
"Petite? Remy gotta talk wid ya," the Cajun called. Milana looked up from her book as Remy came in.
"Yeah? What's up?" she asked. Remy sat at the end of her bed and grinned, shuffling his deck of cards. Milana looked at him curiously but didn't prod, knowing the thief would say what he meant to say when he wanted to say it.
"Remy be t'inking, petite unhappy here, non?" he said, looking at Milana closely through his red and black eyes. Milana looked back, used to the odd eyes by this time, and one of the few. On several occasions her father had implied his opinion of Remy, he wasn't too comfortable around the young man and didn't approve of his lifestyle or occupation at all. But after Milana explained how he had helped her since he had found her in New York he agreed that though the 'boy' sinned he was a good person over all, and thanked him many times for helping his daughter.
"This is my home," Milana replied, looking back at her book. Remy sighed.
"Chere don act like it," he said. "Stayin' in d' room all d' time 'n not talking wit de ol' frens." It was Milana's turn to sigh.
"The professor said it'll take some time before everyone-"
"But does Lan believe dat?" Remy interrupted. Milana looked up and stared at hi straight in the eyes.
"There's a chance," she said.
"Remy tink you don' believe what you wanna believe."
"Remy," Milana said, leaning back and closing her book. "Please, I'm not in the mood for this discussion right now."
"My 'pologies chere," Remy said, shrugging. "Remy jus' wondering if de petite wanna come live wid 'im in de big city." Milana stared at him, her mouth dropping slightly.
"What?"
"Live wid me, petite, den you 'ave a real home, n' Remy won' become 'n ol gray 'ermit." Remy said, chuckling. "Frens ken live t'gether, can't dey?" Milana looked at him closely, but saw only earnestness in his usually joking manner. Milana's thoughts were going everywhere. Was he being serious? Live with him? Leave the mansion, go to New York? She was purple, how would that work? But leave the mansion, even though she wasn't blamed for what happened at the White House openly it was a feeling that followed her whenever she left her room and met someone else. Logan would barely even look at her, though he didn't attack her again and apologized for her shoulder, which was obviously a forced interaction from the professor.
"I- how could I tell you on the spur of the moment?" Milana choked out. Remy smiled.
"Only one word petite," he said. "Yes." Milana kicked at him playfully.
"You have ta give me time to think, LeBeau," she said. Remy nodded and stood up, walking to the door.
"Fine den, you t'ink about it," he said, opening her door. "Jus' hurry, Remy goin' t' his home t'marow. Lan need t' decide by den." He opened the door and walked out, but Milana leapt up, with her book still in her hand.
"You can't do that!" she yelled at his retreating back. Remy laughed as she yelled again. "You can't- stupid CAJUN!" Then she threw her book at him, though it missed, and walked back into her room to think. She needed to decide, but she knew she already had. How was she going to tell *him*?