*** Author's note: I don't own the X-Men, which includes Remy, Logan, Wolverine, Gambit, Ororo, 'Ro, 'Roro, or any other names that might pop up within this story. That being said... Please don't sue me, I'm just a computer geek trying out a new style of writing, I don't have anything you'd want. ***
*** Author's note two: Don't try and learn how to spell from me, it'll probably get you thrown back a few grades in school. ***
"You know 'dis ain't 'de easiest t'ing fo' me ta' be sayin', mon ami." Thick cajun accent laced his words. Thos words oddly lacking that usual flare for life that was usualy drowning any syllable to pass his lips. A lump caught in his throat, but he forced it down. Those odd black and crimson eyes sliding closed for a moment before they once again glide open. Now much more glossy then they'd been only a moment before. "I know Remy done gave ya' lots o' shit fo' jus' bein' you... An'..."
One thick, somewhat furry arm lifted, the hand there taking hold of the cajun's wrist. "Save yer breath, Gumbo... I already heard enough sappy stories from 'Ro an' the rest of 'em." A short grunt of pain as Logan started to sit up, followed by a bit of a light whince. "I just need ya' to do one thing for me." Logan offered as he fell back down to lay upon the bed. Groaning lightly once more. The hand that was previously wrapped around the cajun's arm falling to land over his chest.
Remy couldn't do much more then chuckle a bit to himself. His head shaking to either side. "Jus' when a homme try an' get all serious 'bout somet'in', someone gotta' go ruinin' 'da momen'." Another light shake of hsi head as the cajun dropped down to sit in the chair next to Logan's bed. "Fine 'den... Wha' you wan' talk 'bout, petit?" Brow arched slightly in question as he looked over at his friend.
Logan had fallen deathly ill, and had been that way for the past month. For some reason, his healing factor, which many people had been expecting to kick in and cure him up, wasn't working. Nothing was, in fact. It seemed that something had happened, that had wipped out his X Gene completely. No hightened sense of smell, no healing factor, and for some reason, he couldnt' control the muscles for his claws, either. He was deffinately strong willed, though, unfortunately, he wouldn't be able to fight through this.
"Don't wanna' talk about anything, Gumbo... I'm gonna' die, ain't nothin' gonna' change that. So why not just move on?" Logan let his dark eyes slip closed as both his arms folded over his chest. Though one hand soon after reached out to the stand next to the bed, taking the ciggar from the ashtray. He drew it back over to himself, lighting it with a match from next to the bed as well. A light trail of smoke lifting up from the ciggar towards the ceiling.
"Don' t'ink you should be smokin' mon ami." Remy offered with a bit of a light smirk, though, that didn't stop him from dipping one hand into the pocket of his trenchcoat and pulling out a pack of cigarettes, popping one into the corner of his mouth and sparking it with a match drawn out as well.
"Ain't like I gotta' worry 'bout catchin' cancer or nothin', Gumbo." Remy and Logan both chuckled lightly as the cajun dropped down into the seat next to the bed. Shaking is head a little bit. "You were the last person I'd expected ta' see here today, Remy. Never thought you'd wanna' show up ta' see me, even in this state."
Remy's shoulders lifted in a bit of a light shrug "Don' know mon ami.. Ya' ain't da mos' frien'ly o' people out 'dere.. But.. Ya' make da' team what it is.. An' 'dat's what counts, non?" Remy offerd a short sigh. "Don' know wha's gon' happen ta' tha' team now 'dat de Wolverine ain't gonna' be 'round no more."
"Stop yer blubberin', Cajun. Yer worse'n Rogue 'bout this whole thing." Logan closed his eyes tightly, letting a short groan slip from his throat as his hand contracted into a tight fist, crushing the ciggar held between his fingers. His jaw clenching tightly before he slowly placed the ciggar into the ashtrey. "I ain't got long, Cajun..."
Deep red and black eyes turning towards the other man, a light frown slipping over his features for his friend. "Wan' me ta' go get Chuck or 'Roro?" Remy asked as he looked over at The Wolverine.
Obviously in pain, Logan shook his head a little bit. Groaning softly in pain once more. "No... Already talked ta' Chuck... an' I know Ro's gotta' be..." Another sharp whince from the man as he clutched one hand over his chest. A soft animalistic growl slipping from his throat. "'Ro's gotta' be in shambles over this whole thing." Much like the animal he appears to be on the outside, Logan was in pain, but didnt' want anyone else to see him in his most pained moment. "Jus' tell 'er I love 'er, Remy."
Remy offered a short nod, placing his cigarette in the ashtray and smashing it out. A short sigh slipping past his lips as he slowly rose from his chair. "It's done, mon ami." Remy didn't even seem to notice as a single tear slid down his cheek. Shaking hsi head a little bit as a shaky groan slid past Logan's lips. Remy stood silently, watching his friend's chest, another tear sliding down his other cheek as he watched his friend's chest no longer rise and fall.
Turning slightly, Remy offered one last glance towards Logan, one hand slipping down into his pocket to pull out a single card, which he reached out and placed over Logan's chest. Face side up, even the face on the card seemed to be sad at the parting of the legend that had just passed. The king of hearts. "Ya' got more heart den da' average homme, Logan... Ya deserve 'dat more'n anyone I know." Without another word spoken, Remy slowly exited the room, clicking the light off before the door closed behind him.
*** Author's note two: Don't try and learn how to spell from me, it'll probably get you thrown back a few grades in school. ***
"You know 'dis ain't 'de easiest t'ing fo' me ta' be sayin', mon ami." Thick cajun accent laced his words. Thos words oddly lacking that usual flare for life that was usualy drowning any syllable to pass his lips. A lump caught in his throat, but he forced it down. Those odd black and crimson eyes sliding closed for a moment before they once again glide open. Now much more glossy then they'd been only a moment before. "I know Remy done gave ya' lots o' shit fo' jus' bein' you... An'..."
One thick, somewhat furry arm lifted, the hand there taking hold of the cajun's wrist. "Save yer breath, Gumbo... I already heard enough sappy stories from 'Ro an' the rest of 'em." A short grunt of pain as Logan started to sit up, followed by a bit of a light whince. "I just need ya' to do one thing for me." Logan offered as he fell back down to lay upon the bed. Groaning lightly once more. The hand that was previously wrapped around the cajun's arm falling to land over his chest.
Remy couldn't do much more then chuckle a bit to himself. His head shaking to either side. "Jus' when a homme try an' get all serious 'bout somet'in', someone gotta' go ruinin' 'da momen'." Another light shake of hsi head as the cajun dropped down to sit in the chair next to Logan's bed. "Fine 'den... Wha' you wan' talk 'bout, petit?" Brow arched slightly in question as he looked over at his friend.
Logan had fallen deathly ill, and had been that way for the past month. For some reason, his healing factor, which many people had been expecting to kick in and cure him up, wasn't working. Nothing was, in fact. It seemed that something had happened, that had wipped out his X Gene completely. No hightened sense of smell, no healing factor, and for some reason, he couldnt' control the muscles for his claws, either. He was deffinately strong willed, though, unfortunately, he wouldn't be able to fight through this.
"Don't wanna' talk about anything, Gumbo... I'm gonna' die, ain't nothin' gonna' change that. So why not just move on?" Logan let his dark eyes slip closed as both his arms folded over his chest. Though one hand soon after reached out to the stand next to the bed, taking the ciggar from the ashtray. He drew it back over to himself, lighting it with a match from next to the bed as well. A light trail of smoke lifting up from the ciggar towards the ceiling.
"Don' t'ink you should be smokin' mon ami." Remy offered with a bit of a light smirk, though, that didn't stop him from dipping one hand into the pocket of his trenchcoat and pulling out a pack of cigarettes, popping one into the corner of his mouth and sparking it with a match drawn out as well.
"Ain't like I gotta' worry 'bout catchin' cancer or nothin', Gumbo." Remy and Logan both chuckled lightly as the cajun dropped down into the seat next to the bed. Shaking is head a little bit. "You were the last person I'd expected ta' see here today, Remy. Never thought you'd wanna' show up ta' see me, even in this state."
Remy's shoulders lifted in a bit of a light shrug "Don' know mon ami.. Ya' ain't da mos' frien'ly o' people out 'dere.. But.. Ya' make da' team what it is.. An' 'dat's what counts, non?" Remy offerd a short sigh. "Don' know wha's gon' happen ta' tha' team now 'dat de Wolverine ain't gonna' be 'round no more."
"Stop yer blubberin', Cajun. Yer worse'n Rogue 'bout this whole thing." Logan closed his eyes tightly, letting a short groan slip from his throat as his hand contracted into a tight fist, crushing the ciggar held between his fingers. His jaw clenching tightly before he slowly placed the ciggar into the ashtrey. "I ain't got long, Cajun..."
Deep red and black eyes turning towards the other man, a light frown slipping over his features for his friend. "Wan' me ta' go get Chuck or 'Roro?" Remy asked as he looked over at The Wolverine.
Obviously in pain, Logan shook his head a little bit. Groaning softly in pain once more. "No... Already talked ta' Chuck... an' I know Ro's gotta' be..." Another sharp whince from the man as he clutched one hand over his chest. A soft animalistic growl slipping from his throat. "'Ro's gotta' be in shambles over this whole thing." Much like the animal he appears to be on the outside, Logan was in pain, but didnt' want anyone else to see him in his most pained moment. "Jus' tell 'er I love 'er, Remy."
Remy offered a short nod, placing his cigarette in the ashtray and smashing it out. A short sigh slipping past his lips as he slowly rose from his chair. "It's done, mon ami." Remy didn't even seem to notice as a single tear slid down his cheek. Shaking hsi head a little bit as a shaky groan slid past Logan's lips. Remy stood silently, watching his friend's chest, another tear sliding down his other cheek as he watched his friend's chest no longer rise and fall.
Turning slightly, Remy offered one last glance towards Logan, one hand slipping down into his pocket to pull out a single card, which he reached out and placed over Logan's chest. Face side up, even the face on the card seemed to be sad at the parting of the legend that had just passed. The king of hearts. "Ya' got more heart den da' average homme, Logan... Ya deserve 'dat more'n anyone I know." Without another word spoken, Remy slowly exited the room, clicking the light off before the door closed behind him.