* * *
I'm not superstitious, but dere's somet'ing about Nawlins in de rain dat never fails t' send a shiver down my spine. Rain drips off porches and roofs, echoes weirdly down darkened alleys. Reflections of light off de streets make me t'ink of wriggling t'ings and wit' de rain still pourin' down, seemed like de whole city was trying t' crawl away. Rain is bad luck. Makes people stay in instead of going out. Makes edges slippery and hard t' grab. Bad night t' be a t'ief.
Jean-Luc drove us t' a house at de edge of de Quarter. Old, hulking t'ing, half falling over. De shutters were drawn, giving it a strange blind look
"Mebbe nobody home," Julien ventured nervously.
"Non, look dere," Jean-Luc replied. He pointed to de space between de house and de one next door where a sliver of light danced against de wall. "Belladonna, I want you and Julien t' wait here."
"But..."
"If dere's trouble, I need you t' go for de others. Get Henri, get your father and de rest o' de Assassins, whoever you can find." Jean-Luc's jaw was set into dat firm line dat cut off all argument. "He's not getting away." He looked at me and Rogue almost long enough t' make me squirm. "Remy, come wit' me. Rogue, stay out of sight."
Wondered if he knew how strong Rogue was, den I figured dere was no way he didn't know. Jean-Luc was de god of my youth. He always knew everyt'ing. He was five steps ahead an' not'ing could faze him. Whenever I had reason t' t'ink of de man upstairs, it was always Jean-Luc's face I was seeing. De idea of Jean-Luc and Essex--God and de Devil--together in de same room was almost unimaginable, but I knew also dat I wouldn't miss it for all de world.
"Yeah, okay, sir," Rogue said. Was surprised at dat, but Jean-Luc seemed pleased by her consideration. Wondered what dey t'ought of each other. It was den dat I realized how nervous I was, not t' be going into de devil's mouth, but dat I should go wit' my father and de girl dat....
Couldn't finish de t'ought for de life o' me. Didn't want t' t'ink about dat. My head needed t' be clear. I looked in Rogue's direction and was spooked t' find her eyes on me already. Felt like she could see what I'd been t'inking. Felt like I was made of glass. Could see dat she was on de edge of saying somet'ing, but she drew back at de last minute and bit her lip instead. Relief rose in my chest.
"Remy!" Jean-Luc was out of de car and halfway t' de door. I trotted t' catch up. Almost instantly I was just as wet as I'd been before. Water trickled out of my hair and down between my shoulder blades. Jean-Luc lifted an eyebrow at me but said not'ing.
We climbed de front porch, boards groaning softly under our feet. At least it was drier dere.
"So we're just going t' de door like crazy Jehovah's Witnesses?" Couldn't believe dat Jean-Luc didn't have a better plan.
He snorted. "Don't t'ink Essex'll just let us in. I assume y' can still pick a lock." He tossed me a kit.
Dat was actually insulting. "In my sleep," I snapped, only causing Jean- Luc t' smile. He didn't have t' ask me twice. I selected two slender picks and stuck dem in, using gentle pressure t' find de tumblers inside.
"Good." Jean-Luc reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a nasty looking gun. It was oiled an' shining dully in de dim light. Dat caught me up. Generally, Jean-Luc doesn't hold wit' guns. He always used t' say dat dey're cowardly. Assassins tools. Dat might be part o' de reason dat de two Guilds don't generally play well t'gether. Couldn't help but see Etienne's young face at de end of de long, greasy muzzle. My hands shook slightly and de picks lost dere hold inside de lock.
"Merde," I muttered.
Jean-Luc didn't say anyt'ing, but I could feel him looking at me. Took a deep breath and forced myself t' calm down. When you finally focus enough t' do de job, dere's not'ing else. Felt de same way sometimes when I worked for Magneto. Because in de heat of battle all de little nagging questions drop away. You stop wondering if de t'ing you're doing is right. You just do it. It's free. It's like flying.
De lock clicked an' I pushed de door open. Hinges squeaked, but it was hard t' hear dat over de thrum of rain. A long hallway stretched out in front of me wit' light spillin' out at de end.
Jean-Luc motioned Rogue over. She'd been hanging back in de shadows and was soaked t'rough. Came close enough dat I could feel her warm breath on my neck. "I don't like dis," Jean-Luc admitted. "Dere's somet'ing off."
He was right, y' could feel it in de air like a charge. Jean-Luc was still holding de gun. It dangled loosely from his fingers as if he'd drop it at any moment and just call everyt'ing off. My skin prickled and de fine hairs on my arms rose. Somet'ing wicked dis way comes.
"Ah'll go then." Rogue rose into de air a bit and started forward.
"No!" Jean-Luc hissed, reaching for bare arm.
Barely t'inking, I slapped his hand away. "Don't touch her!"
De look he gave me was dangerous at first, dissolving into realization after a moment. "Merci," he said. Let out de breath I was holding. Although I didn't know how I felt about Jean-Luc checking up on Rogue, it was good dat he understood. "Y' sure can pick 'em, neh? De beautiful, de crazy and de untouchable."
"It's a gift," I gritted. "Rogue!" I called softly. Just like dat, she pivoted gracefully in de air, holding her arms loosely at her sides like a dancer.
"Yeah?"
"Y' make better backup, chére."
"Ya wouldn't be tryin' ta get rid o' me? Or keepin' me behind 'cause Ah'm the girl?" De last part was accentuated by a curl of her lip.
"Of course not. We're keeping you as backup because you're stronger dan both of us put together."
She folded her arms, still looking dubious, but said not'ing else. De air inside was stale and warm. De whole place smelled like mold and t'ings kept underground too long. We eased in, Rogue shutting de door silently behind us.
Once de house was closed up again and de sound of rain muted, I could hear a soft throb of conversation from de back from where de light was seeping in. Looked at Jean-Luc, de question in my face: T'ought De Antiquary worked alone?
Jean-Luc merely shrugged. Made me nervous dat even he didn't know all of what was going on. When we started down de hall, it was as if de years had fallen away and I was de same kid he'd pulled of de street by de scruff of my neck.
"One foot in front of de other!" he'd barked at me den. He'd been standing in de hallway of his house, daring me t' sneak up on him. "Lift your feet! I can hear de top of de rug brushing against de bottom of your shoes." Didn't know whether t' be angry or embarrassed by his criticism.
Took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. I wasn't a kid anymore. One foot in front of de other. Toe, ball, heel in a smooth rocking motion dat carried me quickly and silently towards whatever was at de end of dat hallway.
Could hear de drops of water running off our clothing t' splash invisibly in de shadows below. I willed my breathing quiet. In dat silence I heard my heartbeat strong in my ears. De hallway dat seemed so long before had curled into somet'ing small. De door was within reach, all we had t' do was stretch our arms out and touch it. Dere was a quiet click as Jean-Luc raised de gun. He jerked his head toward de door, gesturing for me t' open it. I squeezed my hands into fists. My knuckles cracked. Silently, I counted t' three and pushed.
* * *
Even as we were makin' our way ta the back o' the house Ah couldn't stop myself from thinkin': Remy's gonna live forever. Remy's gonna live forever. The thought had feet. It scampered. It scrabbled. It drove me crazy.
Gave a new meaning ta the idea of that forever kinda love. Musta helped ta keep things in the family. Thieves marryin' other thieves an' all. Ah guess Ah'd had it about right before: royalty.
Ah could feel the tension between Remy an' Jean-Luc, an' the gun wasn't helpin' any either. Tell ya the truth it made me nervous too. Ah had less reason ta be horrified by the prospect o' killin' the kid again, after all Ah hadn't known Etienne. Hell, Ah barely remembered what he looked like. Most o' my memories were taken up by the horrible thing that'd slouched off into the night, filled with Essex's disease.
The hinges protested awfully when Remy opened the door. Jean-Luc had the gun up, bracin' one hand with the other just like a cop on TV. Neither of 'em were payin' any attention ta me. The determined expressions on their faces were identical an' for the first time Ah could see how they were father an' son, if not biologically then at least in spirit. Ah found it more endearin' that there was a wisp o' fear in those expressions, even if it wasn't exactly comfortin' at the time.
When the door opened all the way, the men inside the room froze as if it was the closin' act in some play an' they were waitin' for the curtain ta go down. The one man Ah recognized as Essex--a tall man with a pale face, long, black hair an' deep, burnin' eyes. The other one Ah'd never seen before. He was about Jean-Luc's age with a sharply-angled jaw, neatly trimmed shoulder-length hair, runnin' ta gray at his temples and a sardonic look on his face.
Remy sucked in a quick breath. "Co faire (why)?" he said softly.
"Marius Boudreaux," Jean-Luc announced grimly. He raised the gun an' pointed it at Maurius' head. His hand shook a slightly an' his lips were folded together in a thin line, as if he was holdin' back some great emotion.
Boudreaux. Boudreaux. My mind clicked over the name a couple times before Ah connected it with Bella an' Julien. Ah guessed he was their father an' Ah felt a dawnin' horror at what it meant that he was here with Essex.
"Had a feeling it was more dan friendly concern dat made y' want Remy back so badly," Jean-Luc continued. "I didn't t'ink you'd go dis far."
Marius actually looked embarrassed, but that was quickly covered by an anger that burned through him an' left me breathless an' a little scared, even across the room. He pointed at Remy, who stood his ground. "Fils de pute (son of a bitch) tore de family apart. Julien was under control before Remy got tangled up wit' Bella. Seeing dem t'gether just made him crazy."
Outta the corner o' my eye, Ah saw Essex slidin' toward a window at the side o' the room. He was silent as a shadow, but Ah was fast. Ah grabbed his wrist an' pulled his arm up behind him, careful not ta touch his skin. It woulda served him right if Ah had drained his power, but Ah didn't particularly want him runnin' around in my head. He sucked in a breath through his teeth but didn't cry out.
"Ah'd stop if Ah were you," Ah advised him. Ah kept my grip on his arm. He smelled like cinnamon but there was a medicinal tang underneath. The scent filled my nostrils until Ah felt like gagging. Some of his hair brushed my lips an' Ah turned my face away from it.
"Killing me wouldn't stop people from knowing all 'bout Julien, Marius," Remy pointed out.
"You were willing t' kill thousands of people just t' get t' my son?" Jean- Luc lowered the gun ta his side. He looked genuinely amazed an' horrified.
"Thousands of mutants," Marius snapped. Ah closed my eyes, as if Ah could block out the hatred in his voice that way. Ah could only guess what Remy must have been feelin' at that point, knowin' Marius like he did. Ah didn't know him at all an' the words were like individual needles stickin' in my skin.
"Dat still wouldn't stop how Julien feels about Bella," Remy said. His voice sounded thick. "De boy needs help. He knows it too."
"It was under control!" Marius insisted. "You're not'ing but a worthless little fatras (piece of shit). Y' don't know anyt'ing 'bout family. Y' don't even have a family!"
That's when Jean-Luc coolly raised the gun an' fired. The bullet caught Marius in the shoulder and he went down hard, bangin' his head on the floorboards an' passin' out.
"Enculé (bastard)," Jean-Luc observed. Then he seemed ta realize that Ah was still there along with Essex. "Where's Etienne?" he asked, low an' dangerous.
As fearless as Essex seemed, he knew better than ta argue with Jean-Luc right then, although he didn't have ta be happy about it.
"In the back," he snarled, indicatin' a narrow door half-hidden on the far wall with his free hand. Ah tightened my grip on his wrist. His back arched with pain, but still he didn't make a noise.
"Is he contagious?" Jean-Luc asked, casual, like he was at some cocktail party.
"Not yet," Essex said.
"I don't believe you." Jean-Luc looked at Remy, then at me. "I want you two t' stay here. Make sure they don't go anywhere."
Neither of us was in the mood ta protest. Jean-Luc opened the door an' disappeared into the next room. When he was gone, Remy seemed ta fold in on himself. He sat down hard on the floor, bent his legs and rested his forehead on his knees. His hair fell down over his cheeks in messy sweeps an' so Ah couldn't see his face, but Ah could see his shoulders shake. It took every ounce o' willpower Ah had ta keep me where Ah was.
At first when Ah heard the shouts Ah couldn't sort out what they were. By the time Ah realized it was Jean-Luc's voice raised in warnin', Etienne was already in the room with us.
His face was bloated, with purplin' bruises across his cheeks. The skin Ah could see was covered in sores that looked red an' angry, even in the poor light. But the worst was the smell: like rotten eggs. He smelled dead. Ah suppose that shouldn't have surprised me. He had Jean-Luc's gun in his hand, but he didn't seem too interested in usin' it. It fell ta the floor with a heavy thud.
"Shoot him!" Jean-Luc shouted.
Etienne looked at me, then at Remy. He started forward, closin' the distance between himself an' his cousin. Ah dropped Essex's wrist, no longer carin' what would happen ta him. Ah stretched my hands out and ran for the gun.
Remy raised his head an' saw Etienne comin' for him. He scrambled backwards on all fours.
My fingertips touched the metal an' jerked upwards. The gun dropped. Ah cursed an' picked it up again. Not that long before I'd shot Piotr, but that wasn't ta kill. Logan's lessons hadn't covered lethal force. My stomach flipped.
By then Remy was backed into a corner. Etienne reached for his face, an oddly intimate gesture, as if he were gonna pat his cheek.
Ah tightened my hands on the gun. It was draggin' my arms down. Ah struggled not ta let panic choke me.
Outta the corner o' my eye, Ah saw a pair o' ghostly hands cover mine. "I've gotcha," Jenny whispered. An' she did. She moved my arms up an' braced 'em. We pulled the trigger.
The sound seemed ta echo forever.
* * *
I won't say much about last week's episode except that Scott? Jean? Feh. I guess it was good for a Scott/Jean-centric episode. ;-)
evolutionary spider: I'm pretty intrigued by The Antiquary in general (like, what IS the Velvet Ministry? It sounds like something David Bowie might be into...) it's one of the (few) canon storylines that hasn't been done to death.
klucky: Tante Mattie IS cool. She has kind of an unfortunate tendency to speak in platitudes, but still I think that it's healthy for superhero- types to have normal friends. Helps keep 'em grounded or something.
Neurotic Temptress: Ah, ya caught me! It was a little boo boo with the Elixir. I think it was a case of my brain being ahead of my typing (because *I* know that the Elixir is in liquid form but Rogue didn't yet...sighs) Anyway, after a little bout with the writer's block, I'm back. It's in the home stretch now baby! Woo hoo!
Foxy Bonecracker: You wouldn't be LAUGHING at my homeopathic cures would you? g I've often wondered why Rogue doesn't get herself one (or have Dr. McCoy make something similar). Ah, I suppose then she wouldn't be able to soak up angst like a sponge, huh? I kid. I kid because I love...
I'm not superstitious, but dere's somet'ing about Nawlins in de rain dat never fails t' send a shiver down my spine. Rain drips off porches and roofs, echoes weirdly down darkened alleys. Reflections of light off de streets make me t'ink of wriggling t'ings and wit' de rain still pourin' down, seemed like de whole city was trying t' crawl away. Rain is bad luck. Makes people stay in instead of going out. Makes edges slippery and hard t' grab. Bad night t' be a t'ief.
Jean-Luc drove us t' a house at de edge of de Quarter. Old, hulking t'ing, half falling over. De shutters were drawn, giving it a strange blind look
"Mebbe nobody home," Julien ventured nervously.
"Non, look dere," Jean-Luc replied. He pointed to de space between de house and de one next door where a sliver of light danced against de wall. "Belladonna, I want you and Julien t' wait here."
"But..."
"If dere's trouble, I need you t' go for de others. Get Henri, get your father and de rest o' de Assassins, whoever you can find." Jean-Luc's jaw was set into dat firm line dat cut off all argument. "He's not getting away." He looked at me and Rogue almost long enough t' make me squirm. "Remy, come wit' me. Rogue, stay out of sight."
Wondered if he knew how strong Rogue was, den I figured dere was no way he didn't know. Jean-Luc was de god of my youth. He always knew everyt'ing. He was five steps ahead an' not'ing could faze him. Whenever I had reason t' t'ink of de man upstairs, it was always Jean-Luc's face I was seeing. De idea of Jean-Luc and Essex--God and de Devil--together in de same room was almost unimaginable, but I knew also dat I wouldn't miss it for all de world.
"Yeah, okay, sir," Rogue said. Was surprised at dat, but Jean-Luc seemed pleased by her consideration. Wondered what dey t'ought of each other. It was den dat I realized how nervous I was, not t' be going into de devil's mouth, but dat I should go wit' my father and de girl dat....
Couldn't finish de t'ought for de life o' me. Didn't want t' t'ink about dat. My head needed t' be clear. I looked in Rogue's direction and was spooked t' find her eyes on me already. Felt like she could see what I'd been t'inking. Felt like I was made of glass. Could see dat she was on de edge of saying somet'ing, but she drew back at de last minute and bit her lip instead. Relief rose in my chest.
"Remy!" Jean-Luc was out of de car and halfway t' de door. I trotted t' catch up. Almost instantly I was just as wet as I'd been before. Water trickled out of my hair and down between my shoulder blades. Jean-Luc lifted an eyebrow at me but said not'ing.
We climbed de front porch, boards groaning softly under our feet. At least it was drier dere.
"So we're just going t' de door like crazy Jehovah's Witnesses?" Couldn't believe dat Jean-Luc didn't have a better plan.
He snorted. "Don't t'ink Essex'll just let us in. I assume y' can still pick a lock." He tossed me a kit.
Dat was actually insulting. "In my sleep," I snapped, only causing Jean- Luc t' smile. He didn't have t' ask me twice. I selected two slender picks and stuck dem in, using gentle pressure t' find de tumblers inside.
"Good." Jean-Luc reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a nasty looking gun. It was oiled an' shining dully in de dim light. Dat caught me up. Generally, Jean-Luc doesn't hold wit' guns. He always used t' say dat dey're cowardly. Assassins tools. Dat might be part o' de reason dat de two Guilds don't generally play well t'gether. Couldn't help but see Etienne's young face at de end of de long, greasy muzzle. My hands shook slightly and de picks lost dere hold inside de lock.
"Merde," I muttered.
Jean-Luc didn't say anyt'ing, but I could feel him looking at me. Took a deep breath and forced myself t' calm down. When you finally focus enough t' do de job, dere's not'ing else. Felt de same way sometimes when I worked for Magneto. Because in de heat of battle all de little nagging questions drop away. You stop wondering if de t'ing you're doing is right. You just do it. It's free. It's like flying.
De lock clicked an' I pushed de door open. Hinges squeaked, but it was hard t' hear dat over de thrum of rain. A long hallway stretched out in front of me wit' light spillin' out at de end.
Jean-Luc motioned Rogue over. She'd been hanging back in de shadows and was soaked t'rough. Came close enough dat I could feel her warm breath on my neck. "I don't like dis," Jean-Luc admitted. "Dere's somet'ing off."
He was right, y' could feel it in de air like a charge. Jean-Luc was still holding de gun. It dangled loosely from his fingers as if he'd drop it at any moment and just call everyt'ing off. My skin prickled and de fine hairs on my arms rose. Somet'ing wicked dis way comes.
"Ah'll go then." Rogue rose into de air a bit and started forward.
"No!" Jean-Luc hissed, reaching for bare arm.
Barely t'inking, I slapped his hand away. "Don't touch her!"
De look he gave me was dangerous at first, dissolving into realization after a moment. "Merci," he said. Let out de breath I was holding. Although I didn't know how I felt about Jean-Luc checking up on Rogue, it was good dat he understood. "Y' sure can pick 'em, neh? De beautiful, de crazy and de untouchable."
"It's a gift," I gritted. "Rogue!" I called softly. Just like dat, she pivoted gracefully in de air, holding her arms loosely at her sides like a dancer.
"Yeah?"
"Y' make better backup, chére."
"Ya wouldn't be tryin' ta get rid o' me? Or keepin' me behind 'cause Ah'm the girl?" De last part was accentuated by a curl of her lip.
"Of course not. We're keeping you as backup because you're stronger dan both of us put together."
She folded her arms, still looking dubious, but said not'ing else. De air inside was stale and warm. De whole place smelled like mold and t'ings kept underground too long. We eased in, Rogue shutting de door silently behind us.
Once de house was closed up again and de sound of rain muted, I could hear a soft throb of conversation from de back from where de light was seeping in. Looked at Jean-Luc, de question in my face: T'ought De Antiquary worked alone?
Jean-Luc merely shrugged. Made me nervous dat even he didn't know all of what was going on. When we started down de hall, it was as if de years had fallen away and I was de same kid he'd pulled of de street by de scruff of my neck.
"One foot in front of de other!" he'd barked at me den. He'd been standing in de hallway of his house, daring me t' sneak up on him. "Lift your feet! I can hear de top of de rug brushing against de bottom of your shoes." Didn't know whether t' be angry or embarrassed by his criticism.
Took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. I wasn't a kid anymore. One foot in front of de other. Toe, ball, heel in a smooth rocking motion dat carried me quickly and silently towards whatever was at de end of dat hallway.
Could hear de drops of water running off our clothing t' splash invisibly in de shadows below. I willed my breathing quiet. In dat silence I heard my heartbeat strong in my ears. De hallway dat seemed so long before had curled into somet'ing small. De door was within reach, all we had t' do was stretch our arms out and touch it. Dere was a quiet click as Jean-Luc raised de gun. He jerked his head toward de door, gesturing for me t' open it. I squeezed my hands into fists. My knuckles cracked. Silently, I counted t' three and pushed.
* * *
Even as we were makin' our way ta the back o' the house Ah couldn't stop myself from thinkin': Remy's gonna live forever. Remy's gonna live forever. The thought had feet. It scampered. It scrabbled. It drove me crazy.
Gave a new meaning ta the idea of that forever kinda love. Musta helped ta keep things in the family. Thieves marryin' other thieves an' all. Ah guess Ah'd had it about right before: royalty.
Ah could feel the tension between Remy an' Jean-Luc, an' the gun wasn't helpin' any either. Tell ya the truth it made me nervous too. Ah had less reason ta be horrified by the prospect o' killin' the kid again, after all Ah hadn't known Etienne. Hell, Ah barely remembered what he looked like. Most o' my memories were taken up by the horrible thing that'd slouched off into the night, filled with Essex's disease.
The hinges protested awfully when Remy opened the door. Jean-Luc had the gun up, bracin' one hand with the other just like a cop on TV. Neither of 'em were payin' any attention ta me. The determined expressions on their faces were identical an' for the first time Ah could see how they were father an' son, if not biologically then at least in spirit. Ah found it more endearin' that there was a wisp o' fear in those expressions, even if it wasn't exactly comfortin' at the time.
When the door opened all the way, the men inside the room froze as if it was the closin' act in some play an' they were waitin' for the curtain ta go down. The one man Ah recognized as Essex--a tall man with a pale face, long, black hair an' deep, burnin' eyes. The other one Ah'd never seen before. He was about Jean-Luc's age with a sharply-angled jaw, neatly trimmed shoulder-length hair, runnin' ta gray at his temples and a sardonic look on his face.
Remy sucked in a quick breath. "Co faire (why)?" he said softly.
"Marius Boudreaux," Jean-Luc announced grimly. He raised the gun an' pointed it at Maurius' head. His hand shook a slightly an' his lips were folded together in a thin line, as if he was holdin' back some great emotion.
Boudreaux. Boudreaux. My mind clicked over the name a couple times before Ah connected it with Bella an' Julien. Ah guessed he was their father an' Ah felt a dawnin' horror at what it meant that he was here with Essex.
"Had a feeling it was more dan friendly concern dat made y' want Remy back so badly," Jean-Luc continued. "I didn't t'ink you'd go dis far."
Marius actually looked embarrassed, but that was quickly covered by an anger that burned through him an' left me breathless an' a little scared, even across the room. He pointed at Remy, who stood his ground. "Fils de pute (son of a bitch) tore de family apart. Julien was under control before Remy got tangled up wit' Bella. Seeing dem t'gether just made him crazy."
Outta the corner o' my eye, Ah saw Essex slidin' toward a window at the side o' the room. He was silent as a shadow, but Ah was fast. Ah grabbed his wrist an' pulled his arm up behind him, careful not ta touch his skin. It woulda served him right if Ah had drained his power, but Ah didn't particularly want him runnin' around in my head. He sucked in a breath through his teeth but didn't cry out.
"Ah'd stop if Ah were you," Ah advised him. Ah kept my grip on his arm. He smelled like cinnamon but there was a medicinal tang underneath. The scent filled my nostrils until Ah felt like gagging. Some of his hair brushed my lips an' Ah turned my face away from it.
"Killing me wouldn't stop people from knowing all 'bout Julien, Marius," Remy pointed out.
"You were willing t' kill thousands of people just t' get t' my son?" Jean- Luc lowered the gun ta his side. He looked genuinely amazed an' horrified.
"Thousands of mutants," Marius snapped. Ah closed my eyes, as if Ah could block out the hatred in his voice that way. Ah could only guess what Remy must have been feelin' at that point, knowin' Marius like he did. Ah didn't know him at all an' the words were like individual needles stickin' in my skin.
"Dat still wouldn't stop how Julien feels about Bella," Remy said. His voice sounded thick. "De boy needs help. He knows it too."
"It was under control!" Marius insisted. "You're not'ing but a worthless little fatras (piece of shit). Y' don't know anyt'ing 'bout family. Y' don't even have a family!"
That's when Jean-Luc coolly raised the gun an' fired. The bullet caught Marius in the shoulder and he went down hard, bangin' his head on the floorboards an' passin' out.
"Enculé (bastard)," Jean-Luc observed. Then he seemed ta realize that Ah was still there along with Essex. "Where's Etienne?" he asked, low an' dangerous.
As fearless as Essex seemed, he knew better than ta argue with Jean-Luc right then, although he didn't have ta be happy about it.
"In the back," he snarled, indicatin' a narrow door half-hidden on the far wall with his free hand. Ah tightened my grip on his wrist. His back arched with pain, but still he didn't make a noise.
"Is he contagious?" Jean-Luc asked, casual, like he was at some cocktail party.
"Not yet," Essex said.
"I don't believe you." Jean-Luc looked at Remy, then at me. "I want you two t' stay here. Make sure they don't go anywhere."
Neither of us was in the mood ta protest. Jean-Luc opened the door an' disappeared into the next room. When he was gone, Remy seemed ta fold in on himself. He sat down hard on the floor, bent his legs and rested his forehead on his knees. His hair fell down over his cheeks in messy sweeps an' so Ah couldn't see his face, but Ah could see his shoulders shake. It took every ounce o' willpower Ah had ta keep me where Ah was.
At first when Ah heard the shouts Ah couldn't sort out what they were. By the time Ah realized it was Jean-Luc's voice raised in warnin', Etienne was already in the room with us.
His face was bloated, with purplin' bruises across his cheeks. The skin Ah could see was covered in sores that looked red an' angry, even in the poor light. But the worst was the smell: like rotten eggs. He smelled dead. Ah suppose that shouldn't have surprised me. He had Jean-Luc's gun in his hand, but he didn't seem too interested in usin' it. It fell ta the floor with a heavy thud.
"Shoot him!" Jean-Luc shouted.
Etienne looked at me, then at Remy. He started forward, closin' the distance between himself an' his cousin. Ah dropped Essex's wrist, no longer carin' what would happen ta him. Ah stretched my hands out and ran for the gun.
Remy raised his head an' saw Etienne comin' for him. He scrambled backwards on all fours.
My fingertips touched the metal an' jerked upwards. The gun dropped. Ah cursed an' picked it up again. Not that long before I'd shot Piotr, but that wasn't ta kill. Logan's lessons hadn't covered lethal force. My stomach flipped.
By then Remy was backed into a corner. Etienne reached for his face, an oddly intimate gesture, as if he were gonna pat his cheek.
Ah tightened my hands on the gun. It was draggin' my arms down. Ah struggled not ta let panic choke me.
Outta the corner o' my eye, Ah saw a pair o' ghostly hands cover mine. "I've gotcha," Jenny whispered. An' she did. She moved my arms up an' braced 'em. We pulled the trigger.
The sound seemed ta echo forever.
* * *
I won't say much about last week's episode except that Scott? Jean? Feh. I guess it was good for a Scott/Jean-centric episode. ;-)
evolutionary spider: I'm pretty intrigued by The Antiquary in general (like, what IS the Velvet Ministry? It sounds like something David Bowie might be into...) it's one of the (few) canon storylines that hasn't been done to death.
klucky: Tante Mattie IS cool. She has kind of an unfortunate tendency to speak in platitudes, but still I think that it's healthy for superhero- types to have normal friends. Helps keep 'em grounded or something.
Neurotic Temptress: Ah, ya caught me! It was a little boo boo with the Elixir. I think it was a case of my brain being ahead of my typing (because *I* know that the Elixir is in liquid form but Rogue didn't yet...sighs) Anyway, after a little bout with the writer's block, I'm back. It's in the home stretch now baby! Woo hoo!
Foxy Bonecracker: You wouldn't be LAUGHING at my homeopathic cures would you? g I've often wondered why Rogue doesn't get herself one (or have Dr. McCoy make something similar). Ah, I suppose then she wouldn't be able to soak up angst like a sponge, huh? I kid. I kid because I love...