A/N: Okay, here's the next installment. Thanks for all the reviews, they really help. Sarah brought up a couple of good points that I feel I have to address. I don't follow the comic books, so I can't really say I know all the details. I took what I learned from the 'net about the trial, and Antarctica, and 'embellished' upon it. I've always thought that Logan, of all people, would be the first to come to Remy's defense. He's a man with a lot of ambiguoty in his background, a man whose done some terrible things and I imagine carries some real guilt with him. I always thought that he would understand Remy's position, wanting to keep something like the Massacre a secret. Any details you guys can give me that I seem to be missing are very appreciated. And there is more Sam/Scott interaction coming up, so sit tight. Thanks again for all the reviews!
P.S. I rewrote this chapter, cause I hated the first one. I got all worked up with ideas and spat it out much too soon. Anyways, here's the new, hopefully improved chapter. Also, on a sidenote, I'm thinking of doing an existing relationship between Samantha and Bobby Drake. I think the relationship between the two of them could be interesting when Remy comes back. (Oops, I mean IF Remy comes back. hehe) Anyways, let me know what you think, cause if nobody wants to see that, then I won't bother to write it.
"Dammit, there's nothing here!"
Samantha slammed shut a cabinet door with a grunt of frustration, but at least had the good sense to wince at the loud bang that erupted. They had arrived at the hospital in even less time than it had taken Hank earlier, but that was mainly due to the fact that Logan cared far less about getting a speeding ticket than he did about fullfilling Samantha's demands for more speed. Getting past the hospital staff after visiting hours were over had depended on some rather blatant flirting on Samantha's part, but it had done the trick with a low cost to her sense of self. Her partner in crime rolled his eyes inconspicuously and sent her a warning glance.
"Consider that a good sign, kid,"he said, looking down at the street from the fourth story window. "You think Gumbo would leave any clues? I'd be more worried if we found something."
When a reply wasn't forthcoming, Logan looked up from his parousal of the street below, and turned to regard her. She stood with her hip hitched on the edge of the newly made bed, a worried frown marring her face. It wasn't often that Logan was reminded of her relationship to their fearless leader, but every so often it hit him so hard as to take his breath away. Now, with the sunlight coming in from the window, he was nearly shocked at the similarities between the two. The stress of the past weeks had definitely affected her. He noticed the dark bags under her eyes, the pinched look around the corners of her mouth that hadn't been there before this whole Antarctica mess. He knew also how much defending her Cajun friend took out of her. Having to do it sixteen times a day, to a mansion full of people, only made losing him that much harder. That was the main reason Logan found himself speaking on Gambit's behalf as often as he did.
"So what do we do now?"she asked, the tired sigh evident in her tone.
"We persuade the staff." A dangerous glint shone in his eyes, the same sparkle that Bobby called 'crazy death eyes.' He made for a quick exit, but paused just outside the door when he realized he wasn't being followed. Samantha remained leaning against the bed, her arms crossed in front of her chest. "You coming, Sam?"
She made no acknowledgement as to having heard him. His expression softened considerabley, and he walked back to stand next to her, adopted a similar stance. When after several minutes she hadn't said anything, he glanced over at her and was startled to see tears glistening in the corners of her eyes.
"He hated hospitals, you know,"she explained softly, wrinkling her nose just noticeably. "He probably woke up here, and freaked out. He never told me why they bothered him so much, but I get the impression it wasn't anything G rated."
Logan wasn't one to give out false platitudes; if anything he was more likely to break someone's heart with honesty than help get their hopes up. So Samantha understood the seriousness and meaning behind his words when he said, "we'll find him, kid." It was just four simple words, meaning next to nothing when spoken by anybody else. But the fact that it was Logan saying them made the impact on her that much more defining. Nothing else could've gotten a similar reaction out of her. She smiled tightly at him, and stood, squaring her shoulders.
"Yeah, you're right. I trust you, Logan. So, what? Question the employees?"
He nodded. "That's the plan. Odds are in a hospital as big as this, they didn't see anything. 'Sides, the Cajun always knew how to blend in when it fit. But won't hurt to ask, anyway."
He patted her shoulder companionabley, and this time they left the room together, heading towards the nurses station. Not two steps away from the counter, the cell phone her older brother had insisted she carry at all times rang shrilly in the relative quiet. Her face burning several different shades of red at the embarrassing intrusion, she sent Logan an exasperated glance before flipping it open and answering with a tired hello. A few passing hospital orderlies flashed her disapproving looks, some glanced pointedly at the sign banning such devices. One well placed snarl from Logan, however, and they were suddenly reluctant to follow through.
"Where the hell are you two?"
Samantha recognized the protective, bordering on maniacal tone of her older brother. She bit back a 'none of your damn business,' and instead said, "I'm at Bloomingdale's with Logan. I need new bed sheets, and he promised he'd left me pick out some nice drapes for his room."
She heard the exhausted sigh he let out, and was almost sorry she insisted on always giving him such a hard time. Almost.
"Cut the crap, Samantha. I talked to Hank. I know what you two are doing."
"Well then you and the rest of the team should be out here looking too!" Her words were pointless, really; serving only to rehash an argument they'd had too many times to count since that joke of a trial. She sometimes wondered if she was ever as difficult to deal with as her older brother could be.
"Look, Sammy." His words were gentle and kind, and the use of her nickname instantly made her suspicious. "I know you want to find him. I understand that, believe me. But do you know how miraculous it would be if he made it out of there? I mean, his odds are so small they're hardly worth mentioning."
She waggled her eyebrows at Logan, who undoubtedly could hear every word Scott spoke and wasn't even bothering to pretend like he couldn't. "Sounds to me like you're starting to doubt your opinion that Rogue should've left him there."
"I'm not having this conversation with you again. Not over the phone." His sudden angry tone made her believe all the more that he was beginning to lose faith in Rogue and her actions that day. Her brother's major fault was his at times infallible belief that his teammates could do no wrong. He believed in Rogue, for the most part because the alternative was just too horrible for him to consider.
"Yeah, well, next time you see me in person we'll have Remy with us. We can talk about it then."
There was a long silence at the other end of the line, and for a moment Sam thought he had hung up on her. "I do want you to find him, kiddo. I know it doesn't mean much, but I really hope you're right, despite what it might mean for the team."
His words suddenly rendered her speechless, and mortified, she found herself blinking back tears. "Um, thanks, Scott." Her voice was thick with emotion, and no doubt gave away the effect his belief was having on her. "We'll call you when we find out more."
"I'd appreciate that. Good luck, Samantha."
The line went dead, and when Sam closed the phone, she found herself renewed with a new store of energy. When she turned to look at Logan, he was smiling slightly at her. "Ya know, I'm the first guy to point out Cyke's faults. But I don't really blame him for this. He's trying to balance what's good for the team, and what's good for his family."
She nodded slowly, thoughtfully. The downside to being involved in a group with her brother in charge was the fact that she could understand his reasons for doing things nearly all the time, whether she supported them or not. "Yeah, I know, Logan. So how are we gonna do this?"
He motioned to the counter several metres away, and the young man in nurses scrubs typing away at a computer behind it. "This is the guy that the police questioned already, he was at that station about the time they found the Cajun went missing. I figure he's our best option."
Samantha looked skeptical. "Are you sure he's gonna want to talk to us?"
"He will if he knows what's good for him." His grin was a stone's throw from feral, and for the first time since leaving the mansion, Samantha felt the first seed's of doubt beginning to sprout in the pit of her stomach. All this work could be for nothing, she knew. They could find a body at the end of their search, supposing he was that sick when he first left the hospital. On the other end of the spectrum, they might never find him. He was definitely a man would knew how to hide when he didn't want to be found. It was also a concern, probably the most likely of all, that they would find him and he would want nothing to do with them. That, she knew, would be the hardest scenario to take. But until they found him, if they ever did, she would have to look for the light at the end of the tunnel. For the time being, she believed in Logan's uconventional methods, especially when she found herself on his side of the search.
She followed him to the counter, and rested her elbows on the formica surface, watching the young man at the computer terminal. He looked no older than a highschool student, short blond hair so pale it was nearly white, with a mass amount of freckles covering the upper half of his face. His lips were pursed into a straight, bloodless line, and a thin sheen of sweat had gathered on his forehead. Obviously, whatever task he had before him was giving him a run for his money.
Samanatha looked to Logan out of the corner of her eyes, then cleared her throat softly. His head shot up in surprise, and he studied the two somewhat bewilderedly.
"Hi, Sam said, making sure to drop her normal tone a few octaves. "Do you have a minute?"
The boy glanced over at Logan with wide, almost appreciate green eyes, then gulped and nodded. He floated over to them on the wheeled desk chair, and asked breathlessly, "What can I do for you two?"
"I know you've probably been through this a million times already today, but I need to ask you some questions about the patient that went missing earlier this afternoon."
The boy's reaction was immediate, a deep frustrated frown. Sam got the impression she was going to be let down before even being allowed to work her magic. "But I already told you guys all I know. I didn't see anything." He sent an apologetic glance Logan's way, and chewed his lip nervously. Several things hit her at once: the looks he kept shooting Logan, the way his body was turned away from her and towards the older man, the oral fixation as he stared at Logan. She sent an elbow into her partners ribs, meaning for him to take over. He seemed to get the message, and he grunted in acknowledgement.
"Uh, look, kid. We're not with NYPD, or the administration, or anything like that. The guy's...uh... our friend, we haven't seen him in a long time, we're just trying to find him."
The young man smiled almost shyly. "I wish I could help, I really do. But I didn't see any patients walking by. I would've stopped them if I did."
"He probably didn't look like a patient. He's really good at fitting in, he would've been somebody you haven't seen before, but wouldn't find out of the ordinary."
Samantha nodded her agreement. "Yeah. He's tall, about six feet, shoulder length reddish brown hair. His eyes, um, he has this genetic problem, his eyes don't look like they should."
She almost jumped for joy when she saw the kid's eyebrows lift in what seemed like recognition. "Oh, my goodness,"he breathed. "I didn't even think to question him."
Logan sent a satisfied glance to Sam out of the corner of his eye, then asked, "who? What're you thinking?"
He frowned in concrentration, and leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head. "There was this guy, said he was just hired as an orderly up on the sixth floor. But he...I didn't think there was anything wrong with him. He had reddish brown hair, but it was short, only couple of inches long. I really thought it was strange at the time, he was wearing sunglasses. But he said he had an eye infection that was just clearing up, and it made his eyes light sensitive. And he was dressed in scrubs, so I didn't stop to doubt him."
"It's alright,"Samantha soothed quietly. Her heart was beating like a battering ram against the inside of her chest. She couldn't help but drum her fingers impatiently against the counter. "We're not blaming you for anything. We just want our friend back. What did he say to you?"
Memories now at the front of his mind, the boy answered forthright. "He said he had just moved to the city, and he needed a place to stay until he could get an apartment. I gave him the name of the Starlight Motel a couple of blocks over, my friend's Uncle manages the place. He took off right after that, didn't even say thank you."
Samantha smiled grimly. "That sounds like him,"she said to Logan. She turned back to the orderly. "I can't thank you enough for your help. We really appreciate it."
He shrugged off her thanks with a slight shake of his head. "Don't worry about it. I hope you find your friend."
The two X-Men wandered back over to the room Remy had been assigned, both deep in thought about what they had just learned.
"That doesn't make a lot of sense, Logan. He knows this city like the back of his hand. Why would he have to ask for a place to stay? And Lord knows he has enough contacts, he sure as hell wouldn't have to stay in a motel."
Logan nodded. "Something definitely stinks. But I don't think that kid was lying."
He stopped in front of the doorway, and allowed his eyes to close softly, taking in deep breaths through his nose.
Samantha laughed lightly. "Yeah, he was too busy trying to impress you."
Apparently not having heard her, Logan narrowed his eyes just slightly, then strode across the hallway to the dirty linen hamper. He stared at it long and hard for a minute, ignoring Samantha's questions, then reached out and ripped the lid off. It dropped to the floor with a clang, but no one in the area paid it any mind. His features twisted into a grimace at the range of smells that came floating up to his nose, but he stuck his hand in deep nonetheless. When he straightened, his fist was clenched tightly around a dirty brown leather jacket of some description.
"Oh, my God,"Sam gasped as Logan straightened out the garment. The tattered ends of the jacket pooled on the floor; the duster had seen more than its fair share of wear. Her hand trembled as she brushed the bloody cuffs with her fingertips. Logan's expression was grim, but he allowed her to take it into her hands, breath in deeply the smell of cigarettes, high end mens cologne, and bourbun from the inside colour. She found sudden tears in her eyes as she looked up at Logan.
"It's Remy's."
To be Continued