The flurry of activity that followed left Remy unsure if this was real, or just some awful nightmare. It felt as if he was frozen in time while everyone around him was moving in accelerated motion. Hank was suddenly there and barking orders, pushing Remy away. The words seemed fuzzy, distant, almost as if he were underwater, yet somehow he managed to carry out the commands. They had to get out, now. Jubilee; still unconscious. Storm; awake but dazed. Bobby; the broken collarbone iced up to avoid further injury. Logan… oh god. Remy fought back the tears that threatened to spill out again; lifting Jubilee as Bobby helped Storm to her feet. He had started to follow Hank, who was already bounding down the hall with Logan, when he remembered the girl. An instant decision, perhaps some need to complete the mission, perhaps something more, had him running back, hoisting the still trembling girl up and over his free shoulder before sprinting after his teammates.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Remy found himself in the cockpit of the blackbird. Hank had cleared everyone out of the back part of the jet, reclining several of the chairs to form a make shift operating table. Storm, still too disoriented to fly the jet, had been enlisted as makeshift nurse while Bobby was trying to calm down the girl, who had begun to hyperventilate at this point. Remy could just barely hear Bobby's nervous attempts at humor. Beyond that he could faintly hear Hank and Storm talking. Talking about Logan.
"Non… non, don't t'ink bout it right now…"
Remy muttered to himself as his sudden lack of concentration had caused the plane to dip. For the next hour, Remy thought about nothing, or tired any way. He tried to solely concentrate on flying them home. Tried. But for the entire flight home Remy found his thoughts constantly drifting back to Logan. The man who'd saved his life… again. The man who could be dead now for all her knew. Healing factor… yeah, sure. Remy sighed. He didn't even know what had happened, how badly Logan was hurt. He hadn't seen anything, just the pain.
By the time Remy had landed the plane back at the Institute, Beast and Storm had already secured Logan on a makeshift stretcher and were lowering the ramp. Remy stood, looking back into the empty plane. They had left so fast, he didn't even get to see Logan. Bobby seemed to have calmed the girl enough for her to walk, and he was now leading her off the ramp and towards the infirmary. Remy followed, trying to look straight ahead, concentrating on just getting out of the plane. His feet had other plans though, and he found himself drawn to the place where Logan had been. Remy fell to his knees before the lowered chairs, biting back a sob. Hesitantly, fearing what he would find, Remy touched his bare fingers to the black leather, shivering when his fingers came in contact with something warm and wet.
"Still warm…oh Dieu, s'il vous plait… …"
He pulled his fingers back, crying out when he saw the dark, fresh blood that dripped from them. He was vaguely aware that he was shaking as he pulled away from the chair, tears streaming down his face. Remy pressed his crimson fingers against his lips, to the liquid that was only now going cold. He knelt like that for a long time, kissing the blood Logan had willing shed for him, crying as he prayed like he couldn't remember having done in years.
Remy didn't wake from his trance until the sound if Jean's footsteps on the ramp pounded through the fog in his brain. He quickly wiped the blood from his lips on his duster sleeve, his fingers on his side. However, he tried to stand too quickly, and a sudden wave of dizziness threw him to his knees.
"Please Remy, don't get up for my sake…"
A cool hand brushed through his hair, catching in a patch of blood that had dried there, causing his hair to tangle. The first hand was joined by a second, stroking his hair away from his face, then gently massaging his temples. At first, Remy welcomed the touch, arched into it like a cat being stroked, surrendering to the swell of affection he felt directed at him. But then, he realized what it was she was doing and quickly tried to squirm away. Jean tightened her hold, just enough to keep him in place while she fought his mental shields. Remy bit his lip hard in concentration, putting all the energy he could afford into his shields in a desperate attempt to keep her out.
"Gambit t'ink it be a good idea you stay outta dere, chere. Dere be a lot goin on in dis pretty ol' head, don't t'ink you quite up to dat… "
He took advantage of her momentary shock to free himself from the slightly painful grip on his head, standing much more carefully this time.
"Logan's in the infirmary… he's hurt very badly. He…He's asking for you, Remy."
Jean stared at the floor, angry Logan was asking for Remy instead of her, embarrassed that her attempt to read Remy's thoughts had failed. He took a deep breath and headed towards the ramp, his mind reeling with the possibilities of what Logan wanted from him. He stopped a few feet down the ramp, turning to look at Jean.
"You don't gotta worry dat pretty lil head o' yours, chere… dis Cajun not gonna be 'round ta keep ya off Logan once he heals up. Ya just be real good ta him… ya hear?"
And with that he left.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The hall leading towards the infirmary seemed to stretch for miles, yet it took only a few of the Cajun's long graceful strides to reach the opposite end. He found himself staring blankly at the cold metal doors before him, wondering if perhaps he could just turn back and not have to confront Logan. The doors slid open though, and Bobby walked out, arm and shoulder braced to protect the fractured collarbone. The two men stared at each other for a moment before Bobby reached out, gingerly hugging Remy with his good arm.
"Stay strong, ok? He really needs you right now. And whatever you do, be careful… he's feeling a lil.. Uh… grumpy? Well, I guess he's always grumpy, isn't he? He's just… exploring his nature side, you could say."
Bobby tried for a wink and a suave smile, but the bright blush staining his cheeks served only to make him look like a nervous high school kid. Keeping to his role, Bobby made a hasty escape, seeming to fly down the hall before Remy had a chance to question him further. With a heavy sigh he entered the lab.
Once inside, Remy truly wished he had turned back when he had the chance. The front room was not too bad; Jubilee lay on a sterile, white bed against the wall, Storm dabbing at a gash in the young girl's forehead with some sort of antiseptic.
"Hey, Stormy… how de petite doin?"
Remy pulled up a chair, sitting down beside the white haired goddess.
"She has received some minor head trauma, as well as a badly sprained ankle, but Hank says she should be alright. However, I believe Jubilation isn't your reason for coming here, brother."
She nodded towards a small wooden door opposite the bed.
"Oui, Stormy. Is he…"
Remy trailed off as the door opened and Dr. McCoy entered the room. Storm's hand on his back gently urged Remy foreword, helping him to stand even after his legs had acquired the consistency of Jell-O. He turned just in time to see her smile at him, light seemingly radiating from that slight upward tug of lips. He kept that smile with him, even as the door closed behind him and the little room Hank had brought him to was plunged into darkness.
Before his eyes could adjust to the darkness, Remy knew Logan was in the room. The smell of the room was almost overpowering to his dark-heightened senses, reeking of blood and antiseptics so strongly. Logan's sweet, wild scent was almost lost beneath it. The second thing he noticed were the sounds; fast, irregular breaths disrupted now and then by a low whimper of pain. Remy felt his knees give out with that first pathetic cry of pain and he unthinkingly grabbed hold of Hank for support.
"Henri… why it so dark in here?"
Hank could hear the tears in the young man's voice and he wrapped his arm around Remy's shoulders, trying to calm him.
"I fear Logan is very badly injured. The bo-staff entered his cranium at a speed of nearly 90 miles per hour, giving it enough force to break through his skull. It is currently wedged directly between the two hemispheres of his brain. I have managed to extract the majority of your bo-staff, however, there's a slight problem. You see, when your metal bo-staff connected with the adamantium casing around his skull at such a high speed, it produced a tremendous amount of heat. So much heat, in fact, that it caused the metal of the bo-staff to liquefy. Since the rest of the staff has been removed, the hole it made has closed up, trapping the metal inside, where it has cooled and hardened back to its previous solid state."
The room was once more silent, save for the ragged intake of breaths.
"Dat don't explain why it so dark it in here, mon ami…"
The words were meant to be playful, spoken in his carefree manner. However, the charm was gone, drained away with the smiles and laughter of lighter days, soon to be swept up and lost all together with the quickly receding tides of his life. It took several minutes to realize that Hank was talking again, and Remy physically shook himself to clear away his angst filled thoughts and try to listen.
"…. Separated the two hemispheres of his brain, causing a rift in his consciousness. This rift has triggered the natural animal instincts of his mind and body to surface, causing him to turn feral. Normally such an injury would require extensive surgery and result in massive brain damage, but because of the healing factor, there really isn't much that I can do for him. Surgery is impossible for the incesion would close up immediately, and the adamantium surrounding his skull is nearly impossible to penetrate. Theoretically, such an injury should not have even been possible. But in anycase, all we can do for him is provide a safe environment for him to heal, give him plenty of fluids and nutrients, and keep him calm. I have no way of knowing how long the healing process will take. It could be a matter of hours, days, months, perhaps even a year. However, as he continues to heal, he will slowly regain control over his instincts and behavioral responses. In the meantime though, he is impossibly sensitive to his surroundings. The bright lights of my lab are too much for his nocturne eyes, and that is why I have no lighting currently. Robert, however, has volunteered to retrieve some candles for me so that we may hopefully be able to see without disturbing Logan. Light is not the only thing he is sensitive to though, it seems he is able to actually detect not only the presence of others, but even their emotions and feelings by mere smell alone. It is because of this that I petition you to stay. I know how strongly he cares for you, Remy, and I believe your presence alone may be the best medicine we can offer him at this point… " Beast's speech was cut off by a particularly loud whimper, followed by the sounds of the hospital bed creaking under several hundred pounds of adamantium enforced muscle and bone as Logan tried to sit up. "Ah, I see your awake, Logan… please, try not to sit up…" Hank's kindly doctor advice was cut off by a threatening growl.
Logan could smell the slight stench of fear rising from the large blue male that had been tending to his wounds. At first, the smell had startled him, brought back memories of the hunt, alerted him of the possibility of danger. However, these thoughts died as he caught another scent, slowly growing stronger over the bitter smell of antiseptics. Logan peered through the darkness, wolf-eyes easily making out the lanky shape of the pup standing next to Blue. He felt his heart keen softly in his chest at the sight of the pup; the reason he was now injured.
Remy slowly, silently approached Logan, completely unsure what to say or even think. Seeing the invulnerable man wounded like this, because of him, sent a sickening swell of guilt through his entire body. Unsure exactly what to do, Remy sat awkwardly down in a chair beside the medical bed. Logan didn't seem pleased with this though, as one huge, calloused hand quickly found its way to the long chestnut hair, grabbing hold of the sloppy ponytail he'd tied it back into. The grip in his hair was only slightly rough as he was pulled down towards the older man.
The pup kept a careful distance, but Logan would have none of that. He grabbed the pup by his tail, pulling him close. Burying his face against the exposed throat of his desired mate, he began to sniff around, checking for injuries, as well as the scent of others. Logan could smell the dyeing scent of the pack's alpha female on the pup, but it was weak, nothing to concern himself with. Instead he caught another scent that made him growl; there was something terribly wrong with the pup, but he couldn't quite tell what.
"Well my Cajun comrade, it appears Logan is quite pleased to see you indeed. I shall take advantage of this brief opportunity to go and fetch myself a fresh cup of that simply divine coffee I've been fantasizing about all this past hour."
"Do me a favor, Henri, and get yo'self a Twinkie while ya at it… ya deserve it…"
Hank supressed a laugh as Logan pulled Remy closer, sniffing and licking him affectionately.
"Indubitably… that is a truly splendid suggestion. I believe I shall.."
Logan shook himself as he sniffed again. What was wrong? Apparently, whatever it was, Blue hadn't noticed it, as he gave an amused growl before stalking out of the dark, sterile cave, leaving Logan alone at last with the pup. His fears for the pup's safety momentarily vanished as the young male began to chatter away, his voice a sing song mix of joy and fear. For several moments Logan smiled, basking in the relief that seemed to radiate from the young one. The pup's constant noise soon became too much for his sensitive ears though and he pulled the other male onto the strange nest, softly biting the pup's muzzle to silence him.
Remy stared up in shock. He had been pouring out his heart, telling Logan how scared he'd been and how happy he was that Logan would alright when suddenly the older man had somehow grabbed hold of him, pulling him onto the hospital bed. Remy found himself pinned down on the scratchy sheets with Logan's mouth over his own, sharp canines digging into his skin, soft tongue caressing his lips. Remy went rigid, his entire body freezing as he stared up at Logan. But then the rough hands found their way into his hair and Remy was lost.
Logan's attempt to silence the pup was a success. However it worked slightly too well, as the male beneath him was now completely silent, barely breathing he was so rigid with fear. Logan tried to calm him, licking the pup's snout comfortingly, rubbing his nose against the younger male's. One large paw settled into the silky auburn fur, stroking it. The pup seemed to melt beneath the gentle touch and Logan couldn't help but smile as he nuzzled the exposed throat.
Remy nearly purred as Logan massaged his scalp, playing with his long hair. He was enjoying it so much, he didn't even mind when Logan curled up partially on top of him, licking his bare throat. Instead, he tangled a hand in Logan's wild mane, stroking and pulling the wiry man closer.
Now content that the pup was safe and by his side once more, Logan felt a tremendous flood of relief, which was quickly followed by an overwhelming swell of exhaustion. Tucking the pup close against his side, Logan began to drift off to sleep. He buried his face against the pup's long graceful neck, breathing in deeply. At that moment, something clicked, like the first two pieces of a puzzle falling together in his mind. Through the animal haze a clear, loud voice shouted through his mind as he began to doze. The voice repeated over and over
"Remy... his name is Remy."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The huge, blue-furred chest heaved with a mighty sigh as Hank sunk into a wobbly, high backed kitchen chair. When he had finally arrived in the kitchen, he'd found the coffee he'd been anticipating had been poured out, and the Twinkie box in the cupboard was empty. As a doctor, he knew it was important he remained calm and optimistic at all times, but this was just getting to be too much.
"Ever since Jean… no, I suppose it has been since Logan's return? Most likely closer to a month… Since Rogue…? "
Hank shook his head and sighed, eventually giving up on when exactly things had begun going wrong after tracing it back as far as the time his first puppy ran away when he was 5.
"Hank? What are you doing up so late? Shouldn't you be in your lab, sleeping on stacks of papers and Twinkie wrappers?"
Jubilee patted a tense, blue shoulder as she hobbled over to the chair next to Hank and sat down. Hank tried to disguise the genuine rush of relief he felt at her arrival, signaling the end of his self-pity marathon.
"And what of you my dear? I believe Doctor's orders clearly stated you were to stay off that ankle and rest? Would you care to inform me what emergency has demanded you abandon these orders, as well as the crutches, which said Doctor supplied for you?"
Hank smirked at her as she began to laugh, the soft, twinkling sound causing his breath to catch.
"Oh Hank… you're so …cute."
She managed at last, becoming uncharacteristically serious. It was only then that Hank realized her seriousness wasn't so inexplicable, and perhaps her earlier out burst towards Bobby may have actually been explainable. He leaned back in his chair and studied the girl smiling quietly back at him. No… not uncharacteristic at all. This was just a new character to adjust to, for somehow, in a brief moment when he hadn't been looking, she had grown up. And somehow, there was something new in those familar, twinkling brown eyes that made his cold, aching heart feel warm inside.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The soft, wheezing snores tickling his ear came as a rude awakening from the gentle touches of only moments before. However, a strong, sudden wave of panic seized Remy as he realized he was trapped between 300-something pounds of dead weight, unable to budge Logan an inch in his unconscious state. However Logan, the man those 300-something pounds belonged to, seemed to sense his despair, even in sleep. Almost immediately the weight shifted to the side and a big, warm hand came to tangle in auburn hair. The warm, tingly, lightning bolts of sensation sparked by the intimate contact were confusing, even slightly scary at first, but the young Cajun was quickly discovering the pleasure made up for it. Remy had actually begun to doze in the warm, comfortable embrace when there was a knock at the door. Bolting instantly back to reality, Remy's eyes shot open, peering through the darkness to the lock on the door. His heart began to race.
"Why couldn't Gambit be telekinetic, neh?"
He thought desperately to himself, concentrating hard on the door, willing it to lock itself. What would the person knocking say to find them like this? And even worse… if he were to get up, would he find this warm, loving embrace had merely been a dream?
"Merde"
Remy cursed softly as the knob began to turn, and he quickly closed his eyes, hiding his face against Logan's shoulder in feigned sleep.
Ororo couldn't help but smile at the scene in the dimly lit room. Ever since Rogue's death, she had prayed daily to the Goddess to grant her brother release from the terrible pain he'd been burdened with. However, she'd never imagined that help would come from one of her oldest and dearest friends; Logan. And never like.. well, this!
"Remy, I know you're awake…"
The weather goddess laid a gentle hand on Remy's shoulder, laughing despite herself when his eyes just squeezed closed more tightly.
"Do not worry, brother, I am not here to judge you, you should know that by now. I merely wanted to suggest you go and rest for a bit; I will tend to Logan in your absence."
"Dun wanna get up, Stormy…"
The words sounded so childish, but the desperation in his voice, the strength with which he clung to Logan, broke her heart, even excusing him for using the dreaded nickname.
"I know, brother. Perhaps just a small meal and a shower, then? It would greatly ease my troubled mind to know you were well. Besides, you are of no use to Logan in his injured state hungry and tired… he relies on your strength more than any medical cure Hank can offer him…"
Remy batted away the hand gently shaking his shoulder.
"Ouai, Stormy… gettin' up…"
'Not that much can help ol' Remy at dis point…' he couldn't help but think to himself.
He shifted free from beneath Logan, blushing when he was pulled back with a growl. Ororo couldn't help but laugh at the sheepish grin spread across Remy's tired face.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Professor Xavier sighed. It seemed as if sighing was all he could do anymore. Nearly an hour ago he had called out for Jean to come to his private quarters to update him on the condition of the injured X-men and talk about the situation involving Scott. She had never showed up though. Now he was left sitting beside Scott's still form, debating over what his next move should be. He found himself unable to accept the defeat of loosing his first student and close friend should he have to send Scott away. Yet, this decision was not about his personal feelings, it was about what was good for Scott, and for the team. He sighed yet again. Where on earth was Jean when he needed her?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Silent, bare feet padded along the well-worn carpet of the hallway. Remy turned the corner, stopping abruptly outside the kitchen door upon hearing Hank's solemn voice. Remy nearly ventured to enter anyway when he heard a soft, feminine laugh. Jubilee. Smiling knowingly to himself, he quickly retreated back the way he came so as not to disturb them. Instead, he took the long, winding staircase that would lead him to his room, craving a long, hot shower to erase the remaining traces of his encounter with Sinister. He was so caught up in his own thoughts, he didn't even see Jean Grey until they collided head on.
"Sorry, Chere… didn't see ya there, me. Too caught up in me own… t'oughts…"
He paused, trying to hide his surprise as he helped Jean to her feet.
"Its ok, just… watch where your going next time, Gambit…"
She brushed off her rumpled clothing, and tried to smooth her mussed hair, succeeding only in freeing a small flurry of soft, white, down feathers from herself. As her footsteps retreated down the stairs, Remy knelt and picked up on of the larger feathers that had freed itself from her wild main, twirling it thoughtfully as his memory recognized the expensive cologne. He didn't know whether to laugh, or cry at the strange turn of events. He was so enveloped in his own thoughts, Remy didn't even recall the state of his bedroom until he reached the slashed remains of the door. A flurry of curses, mostly in French, resounded down the hallway as he paced a few steps before it occurred to him that Logan's room was only a few doors down.
