Mail Call
Elizabeth Braddock-Grey - You are not allowed to go on vacation. I don't know what I'll do without you. :-) No sodas and cookies. (sniff, sniff) I hope you'll have a good time, though.
TuxedoNinja - Welcome to my demented little mind. Glad to be able to help. ;-)
samson - I like Hank too but he doesn't fit into most of my stories because he always hangs out with people I don't like.
tribalbutterfly - Thank you and welcome to the story. Wanna know something funny? I'm actually a fan of Rogue, too. However, since this story takes place with her leaving Remy to die...well that makes her the bad girl of the story.
a fan - I'm not gonna leave it like that. We still have much more to deal with.
MagnusXXN - Yea! Another constructive review. I hate to do it but it's going to take at least a day for Hank to find anything. However, you are right, he will make a discovery.
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Chapter 20
The two of them were silent for the next several minutes before Remy finally emerged from the changing room, the shapeless shirt and pants hanging off his lean frame. His head was done and Betsy could feel the struggle he was going through to remain in control, to keep even a semblance of calm. She immediately lay a comforting hand on his back allowing her affection for him to flood down the link. Her worry, she tried to keep to herself as much as possible. He had enough of his own at the moment, he did not need hers.
Hank motioned to one of the beds, his voice forcibly chipper as he said, "Now, if you'll just take a seat right over here, Mr. LeBeau, we can begin."
Betsy felt him flinch at the mention of his last name and she caught a flash of the tall, pale, black armored scientist known as Mr. Sinister gazing at him with cold red eyes. 'Get on the table, LeBeau.'
*So...what kind of lollipop did you want anyway?*
He glanced at her in surprise and confusion, *Quoi?*
*Well, as you said, one usally gets candy when one is a good boy at the doctor's. So, what kind would you want?*
He smiled at her in gratitude as he sat on the bed Hank had indicated. Betsy sat beside him and held his hand in both of hers as the furry doctor began the exam, taking his temperature, weight, pulse, etc. and making notes in new medical chart. Remy tolerated it all rather well.
The cat scan was a problem, the confined space and shifting lights too much like Sinister's lab for Remy's comfort, but Betsy kept up a string of stories from her childhood to keep him distracted and he emerged shaky but still relatively calm.
Hank getting blood samples, however, was an entirely different matter. Remy's stress levels spiked as Hank brought out the needle and Betsy could sense his imminent refusal. Quickly grabbing the front of the hospital shirt he wore, she pressed her mouth to his fiercely, molding her body to his. She focused on the pleasure of their two nights together, sending him images of them that he responded to almost immediately. His arms wrapped around her waist tightly as he took control of the kiss. Betsy focused on his pleasure, sucking on his tongue when it entered hers to taste and slowly grinding her body against his. Releasing her hold on his shirt she stroked his body and face with one hand as her other reached back and gently circled his wrist, pulling his arm away from her and holding it out to Hank, sending, *Hurry and get the samples you need.*
Hank immediately shoved the sleeve up over Remy's elbow, and quickly wrapping a tourniquet around his arm before grasping Remy's forearm firmly. Betsy released Remy's wrist, wrapping her arms around his chest and over his shoulders holding him tightly to keep him still. He flinched violently, trying to escape, when Hank inserted the needle into his vein but, between the two of them, they kept the Cajun stationary. Betsy concnetrated on sending him more images, promises, comfort. *Shhh, it is alright, trust me, focus on me.*
Remy was trying, he really was. His grip around her was painfully tight and he broke the kiss to bury his face against her neck. He was shaking with the need to escape and images of machines out of a Frankenstein movie, tables with restraints, and Sinisiter, smiling down at him with sharp pointed teeth kept flashing through his mind. She fought them as best she could, using anything she could think of, riding on his bike through the cool night, Ororo's look of relief and affection when she had reconciled with him, his and Betsy's laughter in bed and out, any pleasant shared memory was brought up and sent.
Finally, Hank finished and pulled out the needle before applying a bandaid. He had removed the tourniquet earlier but neither of them had noticed and he quickly put all his tools away before saying, "I have everything I need." Remy did not respond in any way other than wrapping his freed arm around Betsy. "If you would like to get dressed..." Hank looked at them uncomfortably. He was truly regretful of the trauma he had caused the young man but was unsure of what to do to help. He hated this feeling, this seeing pain and being unable to do anything about it. It was always his personal hell when he could not soothe the suffering around him. It was also the cause of one of his greatest shames. He had ignored Remy just as the rest of the house had. Filled with shame for the team's actions and unable to think of the perfect words to make everything alright, he had done nothing.
Betsy looked over and Hank did not even try to hide the remose on his face. To his surprise, she gave him a brief smile before turning her head and pressing her temple against Gambit's, closing her eyes.
*Remy, are your walls active?* It was a redundant question. Of course they were at their strongest here in the mansion, the source of so much negative emotions.
*Oui, chere. Jus' give Remy anot'er momen' and he get dressed so we can get outta here.*
*Actually, I think you should lower them. Just a bit.*
His first instinct was to protest, vehemently. However, this was Betsy. She had her reasons for the things she asked. He wanted to trust her, needed to. Still...*How 'just a bit'.*
*Just this room, just me and Hank. I think you will be pleasantly surprised.*
*No such t'ing.* Despite his protest, he burrowed his face further into her hair and lowered his shields a tiny fraction. She could tell that what he felt shocked him, that he had been expecting at most tolerance from the doctor. Instead he felt the man's remorse and concern. *Chere, 'e don't hate m'.*
*No. I do not think he ever did. He is, however, concerned about you.*
Remy raised his head and looked at Hank who cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Yes, well, as I was saying, you can get dressed and then I would advise you to rest. I should have the results by tomorrow."
"Merci, Hank."
Betsy was sure the blue mutant was blushing under his fur, uncomfortable with the gratitude. "If there is anything I can do..." Hank's discomfort grew as he thought about how he should have made that offer much sooner and he was unable to look Remy in the eye. His gaze dropped to the floor instead.
Remy pulled away from Betsy, stepping closer to the scientist, and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Merci, y' already doin' more dan ya know."
"Thank you."
They stood in awkward silence for few more moments before Remy turned and made his way, still slightly unsteady, to the changing room.
Hank glanced at Betsy, "I...I'm going to get started on those tests. I'll let you both know as soon as I find out anything."
"Thank you." Betsy gave him a reassuring smile.
"He really needs to rest. I would keep him here but that would not benefit him."
Betsy continued to smile at him, gently. "No, it would not. Do not worry, Hank, I will make sure he rests. Although, just in case, may I assume it is 'Doctor's orders' that he rest."
Hank returned his smile. "Yes. I do not think he should engage in any training sessions until we have all his test results and I will inform Scott and the Professor of my decision." He paused and his voice was much more uncertain when he continued. "I am...glad that the two of you have become...close."
"So am I."
There were some more minutes of uncomfortable silence before Hank asked, "Does he know about your suspicions?"
"No. I do not want to worry him or raise his hopes unless I am more certain."
"I...can understand." Hank turned to his machines, leaving Betsy to wait alone for Remy to finally emerge, wrapped once again in his old beaten coat.
Without a word, they walked out of the infirmary, their arms wrapped around one another's waist. Remy felt numb. The physical had been worse for him than she could have imagined and he really needed to rest. In his present state, she did not think it would take much to put him to sleep. He did not even notice when, in the elevator, she pushed the button for the residential floors rather than the ground floor. He allowed her to guide him down the hallway in a zombie like state, and she was glad the X-men were a team full of active people, preferring the outdoors, so that they did not encounter anyone on their way to her room. Of course it also helped that her room, like Logan's, Ororo's, and Remy's was set well apart from the others.
Entering her room, she helped him sit on her bed before quickly closing and locking her door. When she returned, he reached for her, pulling her to stand between his thighs before wrapping his arms around her hips and laying his head against her stomach. Betsy quietly stroked his hair.
*Remy.*
"Hmmm."
She could feel his shields tightening again, but was not offended. He was tired and vulnerable and his shields were just reverting to their natural state, active, strong, and tight. Their link was still open but Betsy chose not to use it at the moment, to give him greater privacy in which to gather himself back together. "Remy, let me help you get your coat off. You need to sleep."
He turned his face against her stomach, hiding his face as he mumbled a negative.
"Shh, how about I give you a nice back rub? And some hot tea or hot cocoa? Does that sound good?"
"Non, don' leave."
"I will not leave. I will ask Ororo to bring it up, or Logan."
"Don' wan' dem ta see me like dis." His arms around her tightened and she could feel his anxiety rising.
He was not being reasonable but that was to be expected. He had just relived one of his own private hells. "Shhh, no one else will see you. I will ask Hank to bring it up and leave it outside. He will not come inside. Maybe a hot bath." Betsy felt his interest perk up. "Yes, you can relax in a hot bath and drink something nice and soothing while I give you a back rub. Does that sound good?"
He nodded slightly as his hands rubbed over her lower back and thighs.
"Good, you start getting undressed and I will go start the bath. Did you want tea or cocoa?"
"Chocolate." She took a step back but his hands on her hips still held her prisoner. Pressing a kiss against her stomach, he murmured, "Merci, chere, je vous aime, merci..." His next words were lost as he pressed another kiss against her, nuzzling her through her shirt.
Betsy continued to stroke his hair as she struggled to find her voice again. "Come on, Remy, let's get you that hot bath."
He nodded listlessly and released her as he began to shrug out of his coat.
Elizabeth Braddock-Grey - You are not allowed to go on vacation. I don't know what I'll do without you. :-) No sodas and cookies. (sniff, sniff) I hope you'll have a good time, though.
TuxedoNinja - Welcome to my demented little mind. Glad to be able to help. ;-)
samson - I like Hank too but he doesn't fit into most of my stories because he always hangs out with people I don't like.
tribalbutterfly - Thank you and welcome to the story. Wanna know something funny? I'm actually a fan of Rogue, too. However, since this story takes place with her leaving Remy to die...well that makes her the bad girl of the story.
a fan - I'm not gonna leave it like that. We still have much more to deal with.
MagnusXXN - Yea! Another constructive review. I hate to do it but it's going to take at least a day for Hank to find anything. However, you are right, he will make a discovery.
****************************
Chapter 20
The two of them were silent for the next several minutes before Remy finally emerged from the changing room, the shapeless shirt and pants hanging off his lean frame. His head was done and Betsy could feel the struggle he was going through to remain in control, to keep even a semblance of calm. She immediately lay a comforting hand on his back allowing her affection for him to flood down the link. Her worry, she tried to keep to herself as much as possible. He had enough of his own at the moment, he did not need hers.
Hank motioned to one of the beds, his voice forcibly chipper as he said, "Now, if you'll just take a seat right over here, Mr. LeBeau, we can begin."
Betsy felt him flinch at the mention of his last name and she caught a flash of the tall, pale, black armored scientist known as Mr. Sinister gazing at him with cold red eyes. 'Get on the table, LeBeau.'
*So...what kind of lollipop did you want anyway?*
He glanced at her in surprise and confusion, *Quoi?*
*Well, as you said, one usally gets candy when one is a good boy at the doctor's. So, what kind would you want?*
He smiled at her in gratitude as he sat on the bed Hank had indicated. Betsy sat beside him and held his hand in both of hers as the furry doctor began the exam, taking his temperature, weight, pulse, etc. and making notes in new medical chart. Remy tolerated it all rather well.
The cat scan was a problem, the confined space and shifting lights too much like Sinister's lab for Remy's comfort, but Betsy kept up a string of stories from her childhood to keep him distracted and he emerged shaky but still relatively calm.
Hank getting blood samples, however, was an entirely different matter. Remy's stress levels spiked as Hank brought out the needle and Betsy could sense his imminent refusal. Quickly grabbing the front of the hospital shirt he wore, she pressed her mouth to his fiercely, molding her body to his. She focused on the pleasure of their two nights together, sending him images of them that he responded to almost immediately. His arms wrapped around her waist tightly as he took control of the kiss. Betsy focused on his pleasure, sucking on his tongue when it entered hers to taste and slowly grinding her body against his. Releasing her hold on his shirt she stroked his body and face with one hand as her other reached back and gently circled his wrist, pulling his arm away from her and holding it out to Hank, sending, *Hurry and get the samples you need.*
Hank immediately shoved the sleeve up over Remy's elbow, and quickly wrapping a tourniquet around his arm before grasping Remy's forearm firmly. Betsy released Remy's wrist, wrapping her arms around his chest and over his shoulders holding him tightly to keep him still. He flinched violently, trying to escape, when Hank inserted the needle into his vein but, between the two of them, they kept the Cajun stationary. Betsy concnetrated on sending him more images, promises, comfort. *Shhh, it is alright, trust me, focus on me.*
Remy was trying, he really was. His grip around her was painfully tight and he broke the kiss to bury his face against her neck. He was shaking with the need to escape and images of machines out of a Frankenstein movie, tables with restraints, and Sinisiter, smiling down at him with sharp pointed teeth kept flashing through his mind. She fought them as best she could, using anything she could think of, riding on his bike through the cool night, Ororo's look of relief and affection when she had reconciled with him, his and Betsy's laughter in bed and out, any pleasant shared memory was brought up and sent.
Finally, Hank finished and pulled out the needle before applying a bandaid. He had removed the tourniquet earlier but neither of them had noticed and he quickly put all his tools away before saying, "I have everything I need." Remy did not respond in any way other than wrapping his freed arm around Betsy. "If you would like to get dressed..." Hank looked at them uncomfortably. He was truly regretful of the trauma he had caused the young man but was unsure of what to do to help. He hated this feeling, this seeing pain and being unable to do anything about it. It was always his personal hell when he could not soothe the suffering around him. It was also the cause of one of his greatest shames. He had ignored Remy just as the rest of the house had. Filled with shame for the team's actions and unable to think of the perfect words to make everything alright, he had done nothing.
Betsy looked over and Hank did not even try to hide the remose on his face. To his surprise, she gave him a brief smile before turning her head and pressing her temple against Gambit's, closing her eyes.
*Remy, are your walls active?* It was a redundant question. Of course they were at their strongest here in the mansion, the source of so much negative emotions.
*Oui, chere. Jus' give Remy anot'er momen' and he get dressed so we can get outta here.*
*Actually, I think you should lower them. Just a bit.*
His first instinct was to protest, vehemently. However, this was Betsy. She had her reasons for the things she asked. He wanted to trust her, needed to. Still...*How 'just a bit'.*
*Just this room, just me and Hank. I think you will be pleasantly surprised.*
*No such t'ing.* Despite his protest, he burrowed his face further into her hair and lowered his shields a tiny fraction. She could tell that what he felt shocked him, that he had been expecting at most tolerance from the doctor. Instead he felt the man's remorse and concern. *Chere, 'e don't hate m'.*
*No. I do not think he ever did. He is, however, concerned about you.*
Remy raised his head and looked at Hank who cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Yes, well, as I was saying, you can get dressed and then I would advise you to rest. I should have the results by tomorrow."
"Merci, Hank."
Betsy was sure the blue mutant was blushing under his fur, uncomfortable with the gratitude. "If there is anything I can do..." Hank's discomfort grew as he thought about how he should have made that offer much sooner and he was unable to look Remy in the eye. His gaze dropped to the floor instead.
Remy pulled away from Betsy, stepping closer to the scientist, and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Merci, y' already doin' more dan ya know."
"Thank you."
They stood in awkward silence for few more moments before Remy turned and made his way, still slightly unsteady, to the changing room.
Hank glanced at Betsy, "I...I'm going to get started on those tests. I'll let you both know as soon as I find out anything."
"Thank you." Betsy gave him a reassuring smile.
"He really needs to rest. I would keep him here but that would not benefit him."
Betsy continued to smile at him, gently. "No, it would not. Do not worry, Hank, I will make sure he rests. Although, just in case, may I assume it is 'Doctor's orders' that he rest."
Hank returned his smile. "Yes. I do not think he should engage in any training sessions until we have all his test results and I will inform Scott and the Professor of my decision." He paused and his voice was much more uncertain when he continued. "I am...glad that the two of you have become...close."
"So am I."
There were some more minutes of uncomfortable silence before Hank asked, "Does he know about your suspicions?"
"No. I do not want to worry him or raise his hopes unless I am more certain."
"I...can understand." Hank turned to his machines, leaving Betsy to wait alone for Remy to finally emerge, wrapped once again in his old beaten coat.
Without a word, they walked out of the infirmary, their arms wrapped around one another's waist. Remy felt numb. The physical had been worse for him than she could have imagined and he really needed to rest. In his present state, she did not think it would take much to put him to sleep. He did not even notice when, in the elevator, she pushed the button for the residential floors rather than the ground floor. He allowed her to guide him down the hallway in a zombie like state, and she was glad the X-men were a team full of active people, preferring the outdoors, so that they did not encounter anyone on their way to her room. Of course it also helped that her room, like Logan's, Ororo's, and Remy's was set well apart from the others.
Entering her room, she helped him sit on her bed before quickly closing and locking her door. When she returned, he reached for her, pulling her to stand between his thighs before wrapping his arms around her hips and laying his head against her stomach. Betsy quietly stroked his hair.
*Remy.*
"Hmmm."
She could feel his shields tightening again, but was not offended. He was tired and vulnerable and his shields were just reverting to their natural state, active, strong, and tight. Their link was still open but Betsy chose not to use it at the moment, to give him greater privacy in which to gather himself back together. "Remy, let me help you get your coat off. You need to sleep."
He turned his face against her stomach, hiding his face as he mumbled a negative.
"Shh, how about I give you a nice back rub? And some hot tea or hot cocoa? Does that sound good?"
"Non, don' leave."
"I will not leave. I will ask Ororo to bring it up, or Logan."
"Don' wan' dem ta see me like dis." His arms around her tightened and she could feel his anxiety rising.
He was not being reasonable but that was to be expected. He had just relived one of his own private hells. "Shhh, no one else will see you. I will ask Hank to bring it up and leave it outside. He will not come inside. Maybe a hot bath." Betsy felt his interest perk up. "Yes, you can relax in a hot bath and drink something nice and soothing while I give you a back rub. Does that sound good?"
He nodded slightly as his hands rubbed over her lower back and thighs.
"Good, you start getting undressed and I will go start the bath. Did you want tea or cocoa?"
"Chocolate." She took a step back but his hands on her hips still held her prisoner. Pressing a kiss against her stomach, he murmured, "Merci, chere, je vous aime, merci..." His next words were lost as he pressed another kiss against her, nuzzling her through her shirt.
Betsy continued to stroke his hair as she struggled to find her voice again. "Come on, Remy, let's get you that hot bath."
He nodded listlessly and released her as he began to shrug out of his coat.