Fever and Consequences
Waking up to a warm body might be a pleasant if not an erotic thought. But a person might be having second thoughts when his or her own body is unusually warm. Like Remy LeBeau felt when he woke up this morning.
His awakening was no better. (He would have forgotten them all by the time he had opened his eyes, probably a vague image playing in his mind was all the remnants of the awakening. But when he was about to wake up his mind was packed with images of dark, dank places that was filled with even darker... things. Things that writhed and tangled and entangled themselves without end. Things that never seemed to have one moment of peace.)
Now, as Remy lay breathing heavily on his bed, sweat running down his naked chest as inside he felt like burning, a dreadful sense of deja-vu slammed into his feverish brain. Something had indeed woke him up, but he had forgotten it all.
How he hated that feeling. How he despised that since Melinda died. That crippling sense of forgetfulness never quite disappear, but it merely lingered in some hidden folds of his brain, awaiting a certain command to whir back to its full horrific extent.
It was morning, the blessed sun shone through the shuttered windows and the mansion was slowly kindled to life with voices. Remy wondered how long would that serve to maintain his sanity after last night.
Then Remy realized something else. He couldn't recall what happened last night. As he slowly stood up from his bed and started to walk around, he scratched his head repeatedly trying to recall what actually had happened last night. Sitting down in front of a dressing table, he looked up slowly to his own image. What he saw in the mirror made him feel no better about himself.
It made him shiver that he almost didn't recognize the face that as staring back at him.
Ten minutes later, having fully restoring his confidence to a somewhat presentable level, Remy LeBeau took a warm bath - which made his fever no better - dressed up in T-shit and jeans, thrust a bandana down his pocket and went down to have breakfast. It was already ten, so he doubted Jim, the new cook, had anything else other than toasts and coffee. Which he'd gratefully accept, hoping that any sort of food would do wonders to his extremely tired (de understatement of de year, he thought bitterly) mind.
But what waited for him in the dining room was no sight for sore eyes. The moment he entered the dining room and saluted them "Bonjour, mes amis" , Remy felt eyes staring at him like he had committed some sort of grievous crime. Even Jim seemed to be ill at ease as he placed Remy's breakfast before him and went off into the kitchen without a word. On normal days , he'd talk like tomorrow was the end of the world.
Silence shrouded the sunlit room for the next ten minutes or so as Remy tried to concentrate on eating the delicious oatmeal porridge that was Jim's specialty.
When Remy looked up from his bowl and smiled at Hank, Hank wondered if Medusa could have done better than that. Rogue sighed inwardly, wondering what the seven hell's happened to her honeybuns. To her Remy seemed to age ten years overnight. Black rings were evident under his eyes and when he smiled just now it was too staggering; not in terms of seductive, but the pain and the fear hidden behind in.
Rogue turned to Jubilee whose eyes had become as cold as blue steel. To her, Jubilee's eyes went through Remy, searching with medical precision something she herself was probably unsure of. Ray was probably the most agitated of them all. Now and then he'd play with his teaspoon. At one moment he got up and wanted to get out of the room - the tension in the room was just too much for his wave-absorbing ability to handle - but Logan, who sat near him held out a threatening fist.
Ray resumed his seat and was silent.
Logan eyed Hank and Remy noticed this from under his lashes but didn't suspect anything at first. Hank slowly relented to Logan's scowl and after sipping his hot chocolate twice he waggled a finger at Remy to gain his attention.
"Oui, mon ami?" Remy asked, his eyes embers of delight in hope for a normal conversation. But the moment he did he slowly realized this was not going to be a normal conversation and silently cursed the day he was ever born. That thought made him ache deeply for Melinda.
Hank knew that look but steeled himself for any forthcoming unwanted scenes. He paused, trying to look for suitable phrases but as scientists are trained, Hank finally resorted to hard cold facts. "Professor has contacted The Westchester Daily this morning concerning the ad Logan came across yesterday."
Remy tried not to listen as he warily ate his oatmeal.
"After various stages of ascertaining this whole matter, we have finally come to a conclusion that the person who sent this ad is definitely you."
The oatmeal he ate turned into grainy sand in his throat. Remy calmly swallowed it and added black coffee to the whole thing. The heat seared in his throat but he merely looked through the wall with unseeing eyes. Now and then he blinked, as if oblivious of everything Hank had just said.
No one moved except for Jubilee who slowly got up and walked out of the room silently. Ray followed her with the tails of his eyes as she disappeared from sight and wondered why the hell did she look so empty this morning. Hank's voice pulled him back to the present.
"We have definite proof, Remy. This morning they sent us a facsimile of the original ad - hand written and submitted by a boy, so there was no chance they could have discovered the true identity of the real sender back then. The facsimile we ran a test to see any similarities of handwriting among the students here in the institute, and Cerebro returned a result of 98% of accuracy on your name."
No one noticed it - but later Ray claimed he could have spotted it if not for the extreme tension in the room - as Remy's cup handle began to glow with the familiar reddish hue. As the room was brightly sunlit, even Logan's animal-sharp eyes were partially impaired by the brightness and missed it. Wary as not to rouse their suspicion, Remy quickly closed his eyes.
"Remy…"
It was Rogue. She was looking at him with pleading eyes, like a puppy would. Only those eyes were greener than the sea and deep in them he could sense her distrust of Hank's reports.
"Did you do it?" she asked slowly. Her efforts to control her voice was too obvious.
Eyes still closed, Remy asked in return. "Do you believe so, chérie?"
"Tell me it isn't so," Rogue said across the table. "Tell me you don't do this."
"Do you believe I did it?"
"Remy - "
"Do you think I did it?" He rose slowly from his seat, the cup still at hand. Turning his back to them he walked slowly with measured steps toward the open window.
Rogue rose, too but she did not dare to go too close to him. After last night Remy suddenly became a stranger to her. Everything about him that was familiar to her now became something totally distant. She steadied her voice before she went on. "We know you've been a horrible time, Remy, but for the love of God will you stop dwelling in the past? It was a bad experience, Remy yes, I admit it! Everyone here loved Melinda. I know you, of all people, are the one worst affected. Why, now , you keep punishing yourself with this these tricks? If you wanted to say something, Remy, say it! Don't do it like this…"
Silence emanated from Remy like a noxious vapor. He sipped his coffee again, careful not to touch his lips to the now blisteringly hot handle.
"Remy! Are you listening to me - ?" Rogue asked, anger colored her voice as she leant across the table.
Remy moved away from the window and ever so carefully set down the cup at its saucer. He placed his hands on the table, his head hung between his shoulders as the hair cascaded downward smoothly and said, "Well, what are you going to do now, mon ami? Arrest moi?"
"We'll take you to the professor. He'll know what to do next."
With one hand Remy brushed backward his hair. "Well, chérie, you're not doin' anyt'in? Not stopping dem?"
Something caught in her breath as she spoke, "Remy, don't try using my feelings for your own good - "
"Gambit's not using anyone' feelin's for nobody's good!" Remy suddenly shouted which left the room silent for a moment. "Gambit not even know what to feel, what to t'ink anymore! Mes amis t'inks Gambit's crazy! Sending stupid rhymes to myself! Gambit don't even know rhymes!"
He looked around the room to see their reactions. Rogue was on the verge of crying. Ray was trying to look away from his glance while Logan watched him carefully from beneath his scowling eyebrows. Hank merely stared at him with a stolid gaze.
"I'm gone," Remy said as he walked to the door's direction. "No one believes Gambit, so better for moi to be alone."
Quickly they realized Remy was telling the truth; he was going to leave them. Logan beat him to the door, already his fists were in a very threatening position. "You're not goin' anywhere, Cajun. Ye're stayin'."
Remy lifted an amused eyebrow. "Oh yeah? Try me."
In a flash Remy took out a few cards, fed them with his power and threw it towards Logan. While the feral man was busy avoiding them cards, Remy quickly threw another to the cup he had left sitting on the saucer. The moment both touched, they exploded, upsetting the table as the rest quickly took cover. The window shattered and Remy was gone.
"Get him!" Logan said as he covered a bloody arm, "He's not far gone yet."
"Remy, stop."
Remy did stop, Jubilee's voice struck warning bells in his head. He wondered how did she manage to follow him outside.
His thoughts must have too plain on his face as Jubilee casually if not a bit coldly replied, "I went out the moment I saw your eyes started to glow. I knew you must have something planned out that needs your power so I went out. Does that answer the question?"
"What do you want?" Remy said, anger steeped in his voice. He slowly put his left hand in the back pocket when Jubilee was not looking and concealed it in his large hand. "Go away. Gambit need to face dis alone."
Jubilee stepped closer. "Remy, I know it wasn't you who sent the ad. I know you won't do such a thing. No matter what you've been through you always managed to land back on your feet. It very unlike you to torture yourself with the past."
He thought of the diversions and nightly drinks he often shared with Bobby in the local bar and thought I never torture myself in de past. I drown dem… or drowned in dem. Then quickly his thoughts returned to Jubilee who was staring at him hopefully. "Den why in de hell dey not trust Gambit?" he practically screamed. "Why in de hell dey don't understand? Why did dey t'ink Gambit do it?"
"Because the evidence is so clear. Because they can't think of other possibilities, like the one you've told them. Because they don't think it's likely for Boudreault to return."
Jubilee's eyes were wide and honest, he wished he could kiss her and everything will be all right again. But dat's de movies, Cajun, he thought. Dem movies always lie. No happy endings for moi.
For a moment Jubilee sensed a change in his eyes, then they hardened again. "Non, Jubilee. You're not coming along."
"But - "
"Jubilee, non."
As Remy moved away Jubilee managed to grasp his shirt. "Don't you even trust me, Remy? I trusted you, now you must trust me!"
"Trust is gained, not given," he said stiffly.
"It's not only that," she whispered as she pulled him closer. "It's not only that, Remy. I had nightmares too…"
Her voice made him cease all pretense. It was frightened and fragile, and Remy slowly gathered her close to him. "Night… nightmares? What do you mean?"
"He messed up my head too, Remy! Boudreault messed up my head, and now I keep getting these nightmares… people getting killed but not really dead, people tried to die but denied… it's Hell, it's worse than Hell, Remy, that place is - "
Remy had her head in his hands and gathered her close as she began to cry onto his wide chest. He could feel the tears wetting his shirt. They remained standing for a while, wishing this could have happened in a very different light but it never did. Now it happened, each side wanted to let it go on forever.
Logan's loud voice shocked them and Jubilee sensed tension in Remy's body and the way his arms tightened around her. "Take me with you, Remy. We started this together, we'll finish this together," Jubilee said, her face an expression of submission.
Try as he could, he could not bear to let this once guileless girl to join his journey back into the past, where everything never seemed the way the did,… and more. "Non, chérie." A stern reply.
"If you left me here, if I still had that nightmares… they'll know, Remy. They will know where you are, where are you going, because I know what will happen today, he showed me, that bastard of a man named Boudreault showed me, with bleeding hands, not from his own cuts, but yours, Remy, please, let me go with you, oh please…"
Her last sentence faded into the darkness that she saw before she slipped into oblivion where everything was dark and comfort reigned. For a moment.
Remy watched from the land of the living as his petit chérie, as he always called her, slipped down and fell into a drugged sleep. He discarded a syringe beside her and shook his head lightly. "Non, ma petit chérie. As much as Gambit wants you to be beside moi, Gambit cannot let that bastard get you. You, ma petit, are too valuable to replace, and so are my friends." He heard Logan's voice getting closer to the gate, and like a heaven-sent, a highway lorry appeared in the distance. "Now, I must face de past alone. Again."
Just as the lorry passed by the main gate Logan and the hasty search party arrived there and did not notice a certain man sitting atop the container.