Disclaimer: The disclaimer, along with my muse and all the plot bunnies have been camping inside the local movie theater ever since X2 opened. I don't think they have any intention of going home until that movie's finished its entire run.

~ TrinityC, T., Cris-X, Mag Carter, Mystical Sand, Randirogue, Wishful Thinking, Lucky439, Kizmet, Rogue Worrior Spirit, Rads, Neoen, GrinningContrivance - Well, it's a relief to know that I'm not completely inept as a writer. Thanks for the reviews and letting me know that you got that last flashback. : ) Once I've taken over Bill Gates' empire, I'll make sure you guys get a hefty bonus. I'd say that'd be sometime next year, if everything goes according to plan. ; )

~ Panther Nesmith - Yeah, I know. Poor Baby Albert going into life being afraid of everything white and fuzzy because of the way Pavlov conditioned his mind. And if I'm not mistaken, he brought that with him well into adulthood. Can you imagine a grown man afraid of something like a cotton ball as a result of that experiment? (Stay away from me, you intimidating piece of white fluff!) Don't get me wrong; I know that sort of research is vital in understanding and learning more, but the lengths we have to go to in the name of science... Well, the whole thing about being safe in Hazard actually wasn't one of those 'subtle hints' I was talking about, but I can see why it would be perceived as one... Ahh, another willing member of the mafia! Slowly but surely we're growing into an organized crime ring to be reckoned with!

~ Rupeshwari, Christy S - I was pretty iffy on using the term 'suspicion of wrongdoing' because, frankly, I don't know what they'd call Remy's charge. But I do know that officers have the authority to arrest someone if they suspect that person of doing something shady. And according to the sheriff's eyewitness, Remy did. But yeah, if someone knowledgeable points out that I fell into a big old plot hole, then I am most definitely blaming it on the small town mentality! ; )

~ Disturbed Courtney - Ha! No way am I writing more until you get the next chapter of Street Livin' up! Absolutely not! I'm putting my foot down! No more Hazard until - *suddenly notices completed chapter below* ... Ahh crap!

~ Sakura Scout, Jean1, vagabond, Eileen Blazer, Ryoko Subaru - *looks back and forth between reviews and plot line checklist* Hmm... uh-huh... okay... interesting... Yeah, that would be another no-comment-under-the-threat-of-death-by-the-plot-bunnies-who-are-by-the-way-still-in-the-cinema-watching-X2-but-have-the-power-to-rip-all-appendages-from-my-body-with-a-twitch-of-their-cute-little-noses. You understand... ; )

~ ishandahalf - 1) Hey! I want the interpretive dance! 2) The 'pure, unadulterated evil' line kind of snuck up on me. I wasn't thinking about it when I was typing it, but a few days later I saw you use it for someone else's story. Then I thought, "Great fanfiction gods! Ish's insanity is now unconsciously mixing with my own insanity! The world's not ready for such a catastrophe!" 3) Congratulations on acing your chem test without even studying! I hope you rubbed it in everybody's faces, as is only proper. ; ) 4) I think you need to keep a score sheet for all your 'queens of mushiness' 'cause you gave that particular title to Seven Sunningdale, not Eileen. Though I think she deserves one, too. And if I'm duking it out with anyone, then I am not doing spandex. I gotta have some dignity left. ; ) 5) You were yelling at your computer screen? ... And you say I have issues... ; ) 6) Ooh, a parade! Good plan! 7) "... something's afoot!" That always made me wonder. Why afoot? Why not a-hand? Or an-arm? A-leg? What's so special about feet? 8) Rest assured, you're as insane as you ever were... ; )

~ Flitz - Wow... complex, sugar-filled equation. If only they had those in schools, then Math would be the easiest subject for anyone with a sweet tooth. : )

~ jebrylla - Thanks for the sound advice on the music issue - whoa, that was such an obvious pun. ; ) My brother, who's also a writer, has no problem doing what you do: writing with music playing in the background; he's actually more productive that way. The thing with me is, I love music probably just as much as I love writing, so those two things kind of battle it out to see who gets priority in my brain. I don't know why, but I simply can't do anything analytical while music is playing. I get distracted and - horror of horrors! - I start to sing. (If you're really unlucky, I start to dance. ; ) ... "One could say you're sadistically enjoying this." One could say that... and one would be right! ; )

~ missy42 - Yup, poor Remy's going out of his skull. Especially when you consider the fact that he's stuck in a jail cell with nothing to do but think... Ooh, Hugh Jackman... I would start drooling, but I'm afraid I might drown the computer. ; ) Hugh was on Letterman the other week but dammit, I missed it!

~ jelispar - Well, I could start whining like a five year old right along with you... at least then you'd have some company. 'Course people would probably try to whack us on our backsides to shut us up, and we all know that's never a good thing.

~ Tinkerclaire - "Only seven chapters?! HOW COULD YOU NOT HAVE MORE?!" Umm... 'cause my muse and the plot bunnies are on an X2-induced hiatus? 'Cause my brain seems to have gone on vacation without telling the rest of my body? 'Cause I'm an undercover CIA operative who travels the world on covert missions? ... Okay, so maybe not. But the last one would've been really cool! : )

~ Marie - Okay, it's bad enough that we have rabid plot bunnies. Do we really need to add the flying monkeys too? And where in Hades are you guys even *getting* the monkeys?!

CHAPTER 8
Safe and Sound

Ah was sitting on Marie's bed, holding one of her beloved stuffed animals. It was a potbellied, rust-colored bunny with a green bib on. One of its droopy ears fell over its face like wayward bangs. Th' sorrowful, blue-eyed expression was staring back at me, as if ta say she knew her owner had gone missing. For some reason, Ah took comfort in having th' toy in my hands. It made th' connection ta my daughter seem all that stronger.

How many years had it been since Ah'd become a man of th' cloth? Almost a fourth of a century, Ah believe. Quite a long time if you stopped ta think about it. Twenty-five years of serving God, and serving others. Baptisms, weddings, funerals - all were a part of th' routine, th' job. Ah couldn't recall how many ceremonies Ah had officiated over th' years. Hundreds? Maybe thousands? Ah'd lost count some time ago. They all seemed ta blur together into one big chunk of emotions, whether they were happy or sad.

But there was one day that stood out in my memory as clear as nothing else could, th' day Marie was born.

It had been a hot season in Caldecott, and Catherine was well into her thirty-first hour of labor. She was spouting out every single curse word she could think of, even getting inventive and creating some of her own. Now on any normal day, my wife was a strong woman - very athletic and fit. But if you added what she later described as th' 'excruciating' pain of childbirth, then you pretty much had a woman who could crush my left hand without a second thought. Ah only started getting sensation back into it a week later.

When little Marie finally decided ta arrive, she announced it in a big way. Th' scream from those tiny lungs could have been heard clear across town. There was absolutely no doubt that she was Catherine's daughter, all spunk and spirit. She was beautiful... and so perfect. Now, every new parent probably said that about their children, but Ah had th' good fortune of actually speaking th' truth. She had that newborn-baby beauty about her that only intensified as she got older.

There had been a time in our lives, just a few months after we'd lost Catherine, when Ah had a sudden parental panic attack. Marie was nearly ten years old and growing up faster than Ah ever wanted her to. Ah had no idea what Ah was going ta do when the day would come that she'd start noticing boys. If Ah had a choice, Ah would have kept her a little girl forever.

But Ah didn't have that choice, and nature snuck up on me but good. It was ironic how Ah could help counsel other parents on how ta deal with their children, but Ah had troubled discussing th' 'birds and th' bees' with my own daughter. Ah would have been completely lost if it hadn't been for Raven and Irene, our good friends and neighbors down in Mississippi. They practically helped me raise Marie after Catherine passed away. And when Marie developed her mutant powers at th' age of twelve, it was Raven who taught her how ta control them.

But all th' coaching and pep talks never really prepared me for th' day when Marie came home ta introduce her first boyfriend to me. She was fourteen at th' time. A little young, according ta Raven, but Ah trusted my daughter's judgment, if nothing else. If she felt that she was ready ta commit ta a relationship, then th' rest of us would simply have ta accept that – even if Ah didn't like th' idea all that much. Th' boy's name was Rick, if Ah remember correctly. At the time, he seemed more nervous than Ah had been. He was a nice young man, very polite and sincere. However after six months of dating, he and Marie decided ta just stay friends. They remained close right up until we moved away ta Hazard.

It was here, up north, when Marie truly got into th' 'dating scene.' It felt like Ah was meeting a new beau every so-and-so number of months. Ah should have been worried with the rapid turnover rate. Strangely enough, Ah never was. And Ah knew Ah had one person ta thank for that.

Remy.

He was just as protective of Marie as Ah was, at times even slightly more so. If a young man didn't pass Remy's strict screening process, then th' would-be suitor wouldn't even set foot in our house for my approval. On more than one occasion, Ah would heard Marie hollering at her best friend for scaring away a boy she liked.

Susanne and Ah found their interactions amusing. In many ways, they were so similar, it was eerie. At times, it felt like we were looking at one soul split into two bodies. Th' way they would finish each other's sentences was bad enough, but when you watched them and saw how they unconsciously picked up th' other's mannerisms... It was downright spooky.

Th' question was, if Ah knew how much Remy cared about Marie, if Ah knew how far he was willing ta go ta look out for her, then why did Ah have doubt about his innocence? Why did my faith in him falter when th' sheriff had pointed a finger in his direction? Ah was ashamed ta admit that Ah didn't know.

Ah shook my head. No, that wasn't it. Ah knew exactly why.

Th' question was, if Ah knew how much Remy cared about Marie, if Ah knew how far he was willing ta go ta look out for her, then why did Ah have doubt about his innocence? Why did my faith in him falter when th' sheriff had pointed a finger in his direction? Ah was ashamed ta admit that Ah didn't know.

Th' young woman's name was Annabelle. She had been a bit older than Marie was now, but only a few years younger than Ah had been at th' time. Initially, Ah couldn't really understand why she had come ta see me. Our first few meetings were primarily filled with pleasantries and small talk. It wasn't until our third session that she seemed comfortable enough ta open up. Apparently, she was in love with a young man. However, this young man was engaged ta one of her closest friends. Annabelle told me how she felt cheated out of th' relationship, which should have been hers in th' first place. After several more discussions, Ah laid out the options for her. One, she could remain silent and allow her two friends ta continue on with their relationship. Or two, she could profess her feelings ta th' groom and if rejected, would at least have closure on th' subject and could move on with her life. She chose th' latter option.

Following that session, Ah didn't see or hear anything from Annabelle for th' next couple of weeks. She returned eventually, with th' news that she had disclosed her feelings ta th' groom. Her face was an odd mixture of sadness and relief as she informed me of his gentle rejection of her. Ah asked how she was doing and she said that she was fine, a little hurt at th' sting but overall glad that she had taken th' risk. Ah was proud of her for choosing ta make herself vulnerable, and then finding th' strength ta pick herself up after th' fall.

A month before th' wedding, which Ah was set ta officiate, Annabelle seemed like an entirely different woman. It was as if a heavy burden had been lifted from her shoulders. She was cheerful and happy, with a bright smile constantly adorning her features. That same smile was still cemented in place during th' ceremony, when she used a loaded revolver ta shoot th' bride in th' back of th' head.

Ah felt the tears form in my eyes, as Ah stared down at my daughter's stuffed bunny. Ah knew where th' doubts about Remy's innocence were coming from. Ah knew why my faith wasn't as steady as it always had been. Ah wanted ta be wrong. Dear Lord, how Ah wanted ta be wrong. But Ah knew that intense emotions had a tendency ta swing either way, and Ah couldn't say with one hundred percent certainty which way Remy would go... or had already gone.

- oOo -

In the handful of years that I'd been deputy sheriff, not once had I been given the opportunity to conduct an interrogation. Come to think of it, neither had Sheriff Miller. Our primary objective as law enforcement officers was to keep peace and order within the community. That was hardly a difficult task to accomplish. Hazard wasn't exactly teeming with violence and felonious activities. In fact, the most heinous crime that its residents had ever seen was fifteen years ago when some of the high school students had 'accidentally' dropped Mrs. Patterson's goldfish from the roof of a building. Apparently, our young folk were easily entertained. So, you could imagine how much experience we had when it came to questioning our first 'hardened' criminal.

From the get-go, Remy expressed his innocence, claiming that he'd left Marie Johnson alone by the river that night. Two hours and a tiring amount of questions later, he still insisted that she'd been safe and sound when he'd left her, despite the fact that we'd told him about the eyewitness who could directly contest his statement.

In the end, instead of gathering more information on Marie's possible whereabouts, the interrogation gave us nothing more than a couple of splitting headaches. I couldn't help but think that the longer Remy withheld information from us, the less our chances were of finding Marie alive.

- oOo -

Been a couple o' hours since de sheriff an' de deputy stopped givin' me de third degree. Couldn't really get mad at dem, since dey were jus' doin' deir jobs. Dey were good, but not good enough t' get me t' confess t' somet'in' I didn' do.

I leaned back against de wall o' my cell. Never knew how much I'd miss my freedom until it was taken from me. Been stuck in dis damn box f'r more dan a day, an' I was startin' t' get a li'l stir-crazy. Was never one t' sit still f'r long. Marie used t' complain 'bout how much I bounced off de walls, like my backside was on fire.

Grounded my teeth in frustration. Merde. Promised myself I was gon' quit t'inkin' 'bout her f'r a while, give my brain a rest. Had gone all o' two minutes wit' it, too. Guess somet'in's couldn't be helped. De earth wouldn't stop spinnin' around de sun, jus' like I wouldn't be able t'get her out o' my t'oughts. Dat was either a really good t'ing or a really bad t'ing. From where I was sittin', it was lookin' more an' more like option number two.

T' say dat I was kickin' myself in de ass f'r leavin' her at de cove was de biggest understatement o' my life. I knew I shouldn't have left her dere - I knew it. Somet'in' was tellin' me not to, an' my instincts weren't usually wrong. Why de hell did I walk away den? I kept t'inkin' dat, while I was workin' over at de garage, somet'in' was happenin' t' her on de other side o' town. An' I could've been dere... I could've done somet'in'...

Buried my head in my hands. De image o' Marie lyin' in a pool o' blood kept poppin' inta my mind, her pale skin even paler from de loss. Her eyes were wide wit' fear... terrified... at whatever had been done t' her. Her lips were open slightly, like a scream had died on dem. It took all o' my concentration t' not charge de cot an' ev'ryt'in' beyond it.

De t'ought o' not seein' her again was never more real t' me dan at dat moment, in dat cell... where I could hear snippets o' hope fadin' away inta not'in'.

- oOo -

Ah almost felt like taking th' bunny with me, but ultimately decided against it. It was one of Marie's favorites, and Ah wanted ta make sure it was still in her room when she got back. Ah had ta have faith that she was coming back.

Returning th' stuffed animal ta its shelf, Ah noticed a flash of shiny metal glittering in th' sunlight. It was a picture, framed and sitting on top of Marie's desk – one of her, Remy and Susanne. Ah remembered this snapshot because Ah was th' one who took it. Photography had been a hobby of mine, but one that was pushed into th' shadows over th' years because of my schedule. Marie said it was one of my most stunning photos, because it was so candid. In it, she and Susanne were laughing good-naturedly at something that Remy had done.

Ah squinted my eyes and took a closer look. Something was different about this shot, but Ah couldn't quite understand what it was. Ah shook my head. It didn't really matter, Ah supposed. But th' feeling kept nagging me...

Ah turned my attention ta Susanne's image. She and Ah had gotten close over th' few years that we'd known each other, having both gone through th' pain of losing a spouse. Our relationship was never on th' romantic level; more of a platonic one, like our children. And just like those years with Raven and Irene, Ah felt as if Ah had someone ta help me parent my daughter.

On th' weekends, th' four of us would get together for lunch, like we were a family. Two of us would prepare and cook th' food, while th' other two were in charge of setting up and then cleaning th' kitchen. We were like an offbeat version of th' Brady Bunch. After th' meal, Susanne and Ah would talk quietly on th' porch, while watching our children revert themselves back into a pair of three-year-olds, arguing as if there was no tomorrow.

Although she was rather young ta be the mother of a teenaged son, Susanne always seemed older, as if she had lived longer than her actually number of years. Ah remembered a conversation we had on one such weekend get-together. Her eyes had glazed over with what Ah could only describe as motherly pride, but it was tinged with just a hint of sadness. Ah asked her about that look, and she cryptically answered, "He'll be all alone." She had turned back ta th' children then, and quietly murmured something in French.

My eyes suddenly widened at th' memory, and Ah stared at th' picture even harder, focusing specifically on Remy's face. He was grinning back at both Susanne and Marie with equal amounts of...

... love.

"Il l'aime."

He loves her. Those were Susanne's words that day. She knew... even back then. She knew that Remy's feelings for Marie were more than just friendship. Ah, on th' other hand, didn't want ta see it. Ah didn't want ta think that there was another man in my daughter's life who loved her just as much as Ah did. But it all made sense now. How protective Remy was when it came ta her boyfriends. How he wanted ta make sure she did well in school. Ah think there was even a time when he was teaching her how ta fight, how ta defend herself – "just in case she ever needed it."

Ah started thinking. If Remy's love for Marie was even remotely like th' love he had for his mother, then there was absolutely no way he could have done anything ta her. Remy would have willingly laid down his life had there been th' slightest chance of protecting Susanne. Ah was slow ta realize that he would do th' exact same thing for Marie.

Ah shot off th' bed as if lightning had stuck me. Of course he would. My goodness, how could Ah even doubt that? Remy was nothing like Annabelle. Nothing. Annabelle's love for that young man had driven her ta take a life. Remy would never do such a thing. Ah was sure. Ah didn't have any proof of that fact, but Ah was sure. Call it fatherly intuition, if you will.

Setting th' picture frame back down, Ah immediately headed for th' door. There was a young man Ah had ta see, and apologize to, for my lack of faith.

- oOo -

How long had I been sittin' dere, frozen like a statue, my head restin' on my arms? Couldn't really tell. Felt like de day Marie an' I stayed by Maman's grave. Turned out, we had spent de entire day in dat one spot, neither o' us noticin' how long it'd been. It was like dat now. Time jus'... stopped.

I sighed. Maybe dat was another mutant power I didn' know I had. Maybe I could stop ev'ryt'in' in de world from movin'. An' if I could do dat, den maybe I could go back in time. If dat was possible, I'd go back t' de days wit' Marie an' freeze de two o' us in place. Den she'd be safe. Den she'd be here.

"Remy."

Mem'ries o' her kept me preoccupied f'r a bit - how she helped me fix up de Harley, how she got all happy when I gave her a t-shirt wit' 'New York Girl' written on de front, how she felt in my arms an' tasted on my lips. Almost made me f'rget dat she wasn't right dere next t' me, like she usually was.

"Remy."

Have you ever had someone in ya life dat you jus' knew you couldn't live wit'out? What would you do if dat person was suddenly taken away from you? How would you react?

Be damned if I knew.

"Remy...?"

I lifted my head. What de hell did dey want now? Couldn't dey jus' let me worry about her in peace? She could be dead. An' here dey had me locked up like -

Could feel de moisture buildin' in de back o' my eyes, threatenin' t' roll down my cheeks. Tried t' will dem away. Next t' no one had ever seen me cry. Wasn't gon' let whoever was on de other side o' de cell have dat particular honor.

- oOo -

The sun was losing its heat. Another thirty minutes and it would set. I was staring at the police station from across the street, waiting. It shouldn't have been much longer.

"Hi, Mr. Robinson."

I turned toward the voice. It was a youngster of about thirteen, stuffing his face with some sort of stretchy, green substance. Whatever it was would probably rot his teeth and his brain. I think I knew his parents, but I couldn't quite remember the lad's name. The Jenkins' boy. Their third, I believe. He followed up his greeting with a wave, and then continued on down the road, chewing loudly.

I shook my head. Youth was really being wasted on the young.

My eyes roamed back to the other side of the street. After a few minutes, I saw the reverend walk up to the building with determined strides. There was a man with a purpose. I couldn't help but sympathize with him. What a terrible experience to go through, losing a daughter.

The reverend was two steps shy of getting over the threshold, when the door suddenly swung open.

And the Devil's child stepped out.

He was being released. Supposedly because of the 'lack of evidence.' If you asked me, the sheriff was off his rocker. How much more evidence did the law need? That boy was by the river last night. It couldn't be a coincidence that the reverend's daughter went missing the very next morning.

He did something to her. The entire town believed it.

For all we knew, he could have blown her up. Poof! Into nothing but dust. He'd done it before. What was stopping him from doing it again? Those fools won't be convinced until they come across her ashes, staring them straight in the face. Then, they would be kicking themselves for letting him go so easily.

And what was all that hogwash about me not being a reliable source? I came from a very long line of upstanding citizens. My family was one of the first residents here in Hazard. The sheriff was aware of that, and yet he still considered my testimony 'unreliable.' So what if I'd forgotten to mention that I didn't actually see the boy's face when I was first questioned? How many people in town could be his exact height and build? Not to mention the fact that I heard the Johnson girl address him by name. That was one too many factors for it all to be a coincidence.

The reverend and the boy were still in front of the police station, talking. I wasn't close enough to hear them, but judging from their facial expressions, it was far from being a heated conversation. The reverend was too softhearted. Too forgiving. If anyone had the right to be furious with that boy, it was him. But no, he didn't act like he was. In fact, it looked like he was the one apologizing to that punk.

The world wasn't making sense to me anymore. Young girls were disappearing, and the suspects were simply being released. Whatever happened to the days when the innocents were safe and the guilty were punished?


Ha! Not a cliffhanger in sight! See, I'm perfectly capable of writing a chapter without one... *struggles desperately to not re-write ending.*

Let me know if you want to be added to the Hit/Update List. Oh, and just so you all know, the Hit List is going to be carried over to any future fics, once Hazard is done. So, if you want to be let out of the insanity anytime soon (Never! You'll never make it out alive, I tell you!) just let me know... ; )

Guess what? It's my anniversary! Whoo-hoo! My account has been active for an entire year! I'm actually surprised they haven't tried to get rid off me yet, what with all the insanity going on around here. ; )