Title: Little Wing
Author: Vashti
Disclaimer: not mine. no profit. don't sue?
Rating: PG
Chars: Remy, Orig
Dedication: Paul of the Xavier Institute (NY Academy)
Author's Notes: this little story grabbed me fairly early Sunday morning and wouldn't let me go till I wrote it down when I got home from church. and here we are. I don't profess to have any great understanding of Remy, or to even have done him justice. I think my muse was going more for a mood. more's the pity.

Little Wing
vashti

As wrapped in my thoughts as I am in this blanket, I stare out at the night sky.

I don't mean to be ungrateful, but…I don't know if I belong here. These people are…amazing. I had heard of them, back when the world made sense, but it never occurred to me that I would ever join them. I had had no need.

I hadn't known what a sheltered life I'd led until it was gone. Taken from me.

Drifting toward the vague form of the long couch in the dark den, I think of the people who had been my family. They had taken me in when I had none. Few things, I have found, are as heartwarming as knowing you are high in the thoughts of someone else.

I don't know if I have, or am yet willing to, ingrain myself into the psyches of these people.

Sighing, I sit, curling myself into the corner of the couch closest to the window. It's rare that I let myself become so introspective. Reflection does not a happy mutant make. Besides, it's hard to find a moment, or a place, quiet enough to be introspective in the X-Mansion, but the larger part of the X-Men are…elsewhere. I should pay better attention. Some of my friends are on this mission -- people's who's faces and voices trail me into sleep and cohere my waking thoughts.

I miss my "brothers" and "sisters" who would have told me to shut up by now.

I…I just don't know if I can come to love these people the way I loved the people who took me in. I've tried. Before. The X-Men aren't the first group I have run to. The are, however, the first I haven't imagined would replace my loss. Biting my lower lip I realize this is the first time I admit to having run from my problems. Far and fast.

"What be de problem, cherie?"

Looking up and back, I see Remy's red-on-black demon eyes glowing out of the darkness. "What are you doing here?" I ask in my equally opposite, accentless voice. "I thought you were with the team."

He lightly leaps over the back of the couch, coming to rest beside me. "Was. Jus' got a moment ago."

Sitting up, I note that he looked no less worse for wear.

He gives me, what I am coming to know, as his classically jaunty smile. "It not be as a hard a fight as de Professor t'ought it would be."

I feel a slow smile spreading across my face. I may not love them the way I loved my family, but my affection knows no bounds. "So no one is hurt?"

"Da Beast's fur be a little singed, but dat's about it."

"Good." I gather my blanket around me and prepare to rise. "I'm sure you are tired, Remy. I shan't hold you."

But Remy has other ideas. He snags one of the trailing ends of my blanket and uses it to pull me back down. I was secure in the arms of man taller than I am by half, and that much stronger. "You gonna use your high talk ta tell Remy what be de matter wit you, Li'l Wing, or you gonna jus' brush dis Cajun off?"

I don't know if this is to be expected of Remy. I do know that, although his hold is secure it is also loose enough to break from if I so choose. "I have been thinking of my family," I say.

His legs shift beneath me, and I offer to evacuate his lap. "I promise I shan't run away."

His chuckle is muffled by the folds of the blanket between us. "Dey not call you 'Li'l Wing' fer nothin'."

Involuntarily my left hand brushes across the upper portion of my cheek and the mark there.

Remy catches my hand and kisses my fingertips. "Believe me, cherie, dis not be de reason. So what be botherin' you so dat you is sittin' here by yourself, in de dark."

"Thinking…about my family."

Behind me Remy sighs. "Dat kinda t'inking needs no explanation. Dey push you away, chere?"

I shake my head. "They took me in when no one else wanted me. They loved me when no one had to… I, as well as several others, was regressed from a over-articulate seventeen year old to an almost incoherent, mischievous three year old. Which was when my father adopted me. I had brothers…" My voice fades. "Sisters…"

"Den what be de problem?" It was clear I have confused Remy. I realize that I have confused myself when I open my mouth to explain, to tell him truthfully that, once again, I shall be leaving after less than a years occupation at the X-Mansion, and yet nothing comes out.

Then I do. His large thumb brushing over my fingers -- I had forgotten that he was still holding my hand -- he asks me, "Why you want to be doin' dat? De X-Men not been good to you, chere?" From his tone I know that he is not accusing me of ungratefulness, but making an honest inquiry.

"You have all been very good to me," I assure him. "But I…" I what? "I… feel guilty," I admit softly.

Again Remy's soft laughter at my back. "An' what Li'l Wing got to feel guilty 'bout? Far as dis ol' t'ief can tell, you ain't never done anyt'ing to hurt anyone in your whole life. What you do, chere, shower feathers on de asthmatic?"

"I have. I hurt all those people that I told you about."

"You ain't live long enough, Cherie, I'm sure."

My silence prompts him to bring my fingers to his lips again. "Tell me, chere," his soft lips moving over my fingers.

I slip them from his grasp before he can kiss me. "I… My… The man I…" This is harder for me than I ever thought it would be.

Remy pushes my hair aside, his fingers caressing my ear. "Tell me, chere?"

Wondering whether this is an active seduction or simply Remy's way -- and admitting to myself that, like many of the X-men, I don't know him well enough to tell -- I find it within me: "My lover…betrayed me. And my family."

"Killed dem?"

A deep shuddering breath. "Yes."

"An' you ashamed dat you loved dis homme?"

"Yes."

" 'Shamed dat you did nothing to stop him?"

"Yes."

" 'Shamed dat dis wicked homme is still alive?"

Once again my silence prompts action: Remy presses his forehead to the back of mine. "What did chere do to this wicked homme? Li'l Wing?"

I have been holding myself rigidly upright in Remy's arms, but now I relax into his hold so that his mouth is near my portswine birthmark. Softly, gently: "I tracked him down and killed him."

This time when Remy laughs his breath puffs across my skin. "Remind me not to put de double-cross on you, Wing."

Somehow, without my quite realizing it, my eyes have welled up and a tears slide across my face. They travel left, one slipping up and over the bridge of my nose to join its sister. I imagine they smear the wing-shaped mark on my face, washing away the mysteries of my past and first childhood.

Remy's thumb comes to smooth them away and I imagine that he smears the portswine mark more. He mutters something that sounds like, "Why always me, nuh?" but ignore it.

"I miss them." I push myself off his chest, finally feeling guilty for monopolizing his time. He has just come back from a mission and, no matter how easy he proclaims it to have been, I know he's tired. "I'm sorry, Remy," I murmur, turning to look at him. "I--"

"Ain't nothin' to be sorry for, cherie."

"I shouldn't keep you from sleep."

His smile lit up the dark as much as his dark demon eyes. "It shame dis ol' t'ief if he see his bed before he see de sun rise. Unless of course he has a beautiful femme to see it wit'."

I frown at him, but that does not dissuade him in the least.

"Chere, not think she is beautiful? An' who told you dat lie, Li'l Wing?"

I think of the portswine mark on my face in the shape of an extended wing. The long flight feathers trail into my hair. "No one has had to tell me anything."

Just as his smile lit up the small space between us, so his frown darkens it. "Li'l Wing…"

I shrug. We sit in silence.

Remy tugs me back against his chest. Right as it feels, I still wonder if this is who Remy is. "How long ago dis wicked homme of yours break your heart and kill de ones you love?"

"Five years."

"An' since you killed him?"

"Three. I thought I had gotten to him within the first six months but he alluded me…"

Remy smooths my hair from my face. My bangs could do with cutting. "An' it still ain't heal?"

I turn to look up at him. Now it is I who has been confused.

"De hurt he dealt you, it hasn't healed yet, nuh?"

I don't have an answer for him. I don't want to have one. This has spiraled quickly and completely out of my control.

"Five years is a long time to have a broken heart, cherie. Remy know somethin' 'bout broken hearts. An' guilt. An' lettin' down de ones you love." Fingers smoothing my hair from my head he says, "Don' run away from de X-Men, Li'l Wing. Your wrong if you t'ink no one here t'ink about you when you leave de room, chere, an' not just to undress you wit' dere minds."

I scowl at that.

Chuckling softly he says, "Don't you know one of de prereq's ta bein' an X-Woman is bein' drop dead gorgeous."

"You are incorrigible."

"Dere's no charming a charmer, chere."

"Remy…"

He kisses my forehead. "I t'ink it be time for you ta be goin' t'bed, chere. It just be unfortunate dat dis Cajun's not followin' you there." Gently he pushes me from his lap.

"Thank you for listening to me, Remy."

"Pshaw. It's nothing."

Frowning, I say, "I don't know. This feels like…it's maybe different for you."

"You're not a telepath too, hmm chere?"

I shake my head, smiling despite myself. I had not thought I'd be able smile tonight.

I'm navigating the shadowy den when his voice comes out of the darkness, saying, "De X-Men love you if you let'em, cherie. You give'em a chance an' dey'll take you into dey heart, into dey every thought, an' never let you go. Not even if want'em to."

"I'll try to remember that."

"Don't got to remember, Li'l Wing. It happen whether you want it or not."

How was he to know I was half in love with them, and that was why I was afraid I must go.

"Dey hunt you down, chere…" his voice called out again. I turned. The red end of a cigarette glowed in the dark. "De X-Men is funny dat way, huntin' down the ones they love same as the ones they hate."

I went to bed. Remy's demon eyes flashed in the dark behind my eyes as I fell asleep, and I regretted not kissing him when I had a chance.

[in]Fin[ite]