Alisa Lebeau belongs to Nicole Wagner, but I'm not going to thank her for the borrow, she's been nothing but trouble:P My poor lil bro will never be the same again. ;-)
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"Remy, ya expectin' company?" Logan almost shuddered as soft brown eyes came into view from behind auburn bangs. Remy pulled the headphones from his ears with his left hand, the right working at a finger strength exerciser.
"What? Non. Why?"
"'Cause… there's someone here I'm sure is for you. She just broke through the outer defenses, only got detected because Jeannie was taking a stroll."
"She… broke?"
"Yeah, brown hair, just a teenager… wearing red."
"Alisa! Mon dieu! What's she…"
"Take it ya know her then?"
"Where is she?" He asked, already moving towards the door, tossing the exerciser onto the cabinet.
"Hold it, yer in no state to fight." Logan seized his arm as he went to walk through him.
"Fight? I don' wanna fight her. Slap her 'roun' th' head fo' comin' here, maybe, but no' fight. She's m' baby sister." A disgruntled pause.
"Oh."
"Wolvie… where is she?"
"Jean… she was going to take her to the holdin' cells. Scott was with her."
"Mon dieu." He said for the second time. "It'll be carnage."
o
They followed the sounds of a scuffle out into the front driveway of the mansion where the teen was writhing in Jean's telekinetic hold, three metres above the ground. Scott was pulling himself up off the floor, a hand to a split lip. A discarded Bo Staff lay not far away, and Logan wondered why he hadn't put two and two together faster.
"Alisa? What y' t'inkin', comin' down here?" The wriggling stopped immediately and - finding herself upside down in Jean's hold, Alisa met Remy's gaze guiltily, her hair hanging down towards the ground in disarray.
"Yah haven' called in weeks. Ah was gettin' worried."
"What did I tell y' t' do, if I stopped callin'?"
"T' stay away until yah re-establish contact." She replied as if by rote. "But what if yah were hurt?" She objected immediately. "What if yah needed mah help?" Gently Jean righted her and lowered her towards the ground, but didn't release her, still wary.
"It's t' protect y', Alisa. I don' wan' y' hurt." There was an uncomfortable moment as the X-men all flinched and Alisa wondered why Remy was still speaking into the sky. Jean finally released her and she approached Remy silently. She reached up to push his bangs to one side, feeling him flinch as she touched him.
"What did dey do t' yah, Remy?" She asked, looking into oddly alien brown eyes. Eyes that would have looked perfectly natural on any other face. "What did dey do t' your eyes?"
o
The lounge was quiet for a minute as they all settled into seats, restless silent questions filling the air. Just as it seemed everyone was about to talk at once, Ororo walked in and gasped delightedly.
"Alisa?" She exclaimed. Alisa jumped to her feet from where she had been sitting at Remy's knees - as though trying to protect him from unidentified foes.
"Yah must be Stormy!" She grinned. "Remy talks 'bout yah all th' tahm."
"And you, my dear. What has brought you so far from your home?"
"Remy missed a few week's calls. Ah was worried. Came jus' as soon as spring break started."
"Forgive me, if I had thought, I would have asked for your number and called for him, to tell you that he was alright."
"But is he? Hehn? Are y'all raight brot'er?" She turned back to where Remy sat in the deep armchair.
"'m working up to it, Sweet. Not long now."
"But what did dey do t' your eyes."
"Dey're jus' contacts. Dey don' look so bad when y' get used t' dem."
"How would you know!" An angry half-growl. "'m not dumb, broder. I can tell y' can' see. Jus' tell me what happened."
"Was in Antarctica, th' light from th' sun burned dem." All the anger faded away.
"Will dey… get better?"
"Probably not, Sweet." A sad gasp, and Alisa moved to wrap her arms around Remy's waist, her head buried in his chest.
"What're y' gonna do?"
"Not much I can do. Learnin' t' do wit'out. Gotta go back t' school fo' a while." He made a face and Alisa laughed at his obvious disgust.
"Do dey make schools fo' people old as y' are?"
"Hey!" He swotted at the teen. "'m twen'y t'ree, not eighty. Geez."
"So what now?"
"I am going to find you somewhere to sleep tonight, and then we shall give you the grand tour of our home." Ororo announced. "Starting, I think, with the lab where Remy is late for an appointment."
o
Alisa gaped at Hank, and Hank returned her curious gaze.
"You know Remy, it's very rare to have siblings with such a similar physiological manifestation of their mutation." Hank spoke without looking away from the young teen stood before him. Remy smiled wryly.
"Don' I know it."
"I would advise you refrain from visiting snow-covered regions, my dear. It would not be beneficial to your health." Alisa shut her mouth.
"Are yah a doctor?"
"Yes indeed, I am the primary physician of this school, and take full responsibility for the X-men's health."
"And dere's not'in' yah can do fuh Remy?"
"I'm afraid not. I have failed in that department, and quite drastically."
"Nah, Henri. Y' did what y' could. Jus' ain' any more t' be done." Remy soothed quickly.
"Still, I need to carry out our arranged check-up before I let you start properly exercising those hands, so on the bed, if you don't mind."
"'Ro, y' wanna take Alisa on dat tour now?"
"Of course, we will be back shortly." With a nod to Hank, Ororo guided the teenager out of the lab.
o
Making her way slowly towards the danger room, so that Alisa could absorb her surroundings, Ororo watched Remy's sister examine every part of her surroundings with thief's eyes. Only a thief would think to look up while walking down a corridor, and she was sure that the girl picked out every single security camera.
"How long ago did Remy get hurt?" She asked, turning her attention back to her guide.
"About two months. It was two weeks before we found him and were able to get him back here safely."
"Why's it take so long t' get his hands over de frostbite?" Ororo cast her a glance. Observant girl.
"It was so severe that if he hadn't been able to use his powers to fight it off he would have lost fingers." A flinch.
"He woulda hated dat."
"I have no doubt." Slowly, despite all the evidence against it, Ororo was realising just how lucky Remy had been.
o
"So, the doc's let ya off the hook then?" Remy yelped and dropped the staff as the unexpected distraction twisted it in his hands and put pressure on all the wrong places. "Sorry." Logan grimaced as Remy flexed his palm gently.
"'S no' y' fault, mon ami. Jus' dese hands." Logan caught hold of those hands and pulled them towards him so that he could have a look. The bad colouring had all but faded now, only a few yellowing bruises to show where it had been. The scars were long pink strips of skin coiling around his fingers, only half a shade lighter than his skin but smoother, newer. He ran his fingers lightly across those marks, curious as they paled at his touch. His head snapped up when he realised what he was doing, looking to Remy and searching for some offense. There was nothing but peaceful curiosity in that face, and he stepped away.
There was a swish of the door and then nothing, silence. With a soft grin, Remy knelt to find his staff on the ground and returned to his gentle practice. It was later, when Remy was tired and his hands were sore, that he turned to the not-quite-unoccupied corner of the room.
"You enjoyin' th' show, mon ami?" He asked the not-quite-empty room.
"Yer kid sister is impressive, I've never seen anyone take down Cyke like that."
"I taught her, she should be."
"Bet she could show you up if she tried."
"Oh come on! I was M. Bete's lab rat until a few days ago." Remy growled. The slightest sound of fabric against metal. He quieted his mind and allowed himself to follow the movement, feeling the man stalk towards him like prey. He followed the silent movement right up to his side, judging Logan's height and looking towards him. There was a rough snort of humour and Remy adjusted downwards several inches.
"If yer gonna do that, ya really gotta remember how tall I am."
"Ain' my fault y' so short." He retorted, looking away.
"Hey." A touch on his chin brought his gaze back. "I don't know why you bother. I don't care if ya meet my eyes. But it's still good ta see ya face when we're talkin'."
"Logan, my office." Scott's voice echoed over the PA system for a moment before leaving them in silence once more.
"I loved the show." And he was gone.
o
The danger room was empty and silent as the door slid open, allowing in two forms, one standing 6'2", the other only 5'3". Save this difference, the two were very similar. Their hair was the same shade of auburn brown, their eyes - though one pair were concealed - were naturally the same red-on-black curiosities, they shared a devilish grin, and at their sides both carried a long staff. They entered, spacing themselves out in the room and began warming up and stretching. After an extensive warm up that was near enough a work out in itself, they turned to the staffs that they had left against one wall.
Remy took the time to get used to the wooden training staff – heavier than the adamantium retractable one he used in real fights. It reached six foot and four inches, just a little longer than the standard length to account for his height. Alisa's staff was shorter and lightly tapered at each end to fit her own personal style.
Remy span the staff lightly in his hands, feeling his fingers complain softly at the unexpected and strenuous use. When he had stretched in all directions he began a warm up, spinning the staff heavily around his shoulders and waist, slowly speeding up as he got used to the weight in his hands. A tightness across his shoulders eased after a few circuits and he stepped up the pace, still nowhere near his usual speed, but not wanting to rush things. His hands began throbbing heavily and he brought himself to a stop, letting the staff finish its rotation and extend behind him in his right hand. He grinned to himself as he realised he was waiting for the soft 'swish' of his coat following the momentum to a rest around the staff. He was such an exhibitionist sometimes. Ok, all the time.
Alisa had kept up with him up until the point at which he'd stopped and continued on to higher speeds, only now finishing with a wide sweep that caused the whole staff to thrum through the air. He grinned wider. She had been practising without him.
"Kata?" He asked, giving her the opportunity to choose the next form of the exercise.
"Are yah sure yer up fo' dis? Th' doctor only said y' were alright a couple a' days ago." She asked, uncertain.
"We take it slow, neh?"
"Ok den, Urashi." He grinned, she had chosen one of the less strenuous Katas. But still, perhaps it was better for him right now. Shishi No Kun, his favourite, was 130 techniques long and possibly a little too much for him right now. Nodding his approval he took up the starting stance.
"Your show, cherie." He was offering her control of the Kata, something he had normally taken responsibility for as the more experienced of the two. With a brilliant smile that Remy missed, Alisa fell into stance and with a word Remy followed. "Hajime." He bowed, and called the name of the kata in respect before taking a deep breath. He'd missed this. The pause before movement. The peace before the storm.
In the movements that followed there was little thought, only the memory of a dance practised so many times that no one movement could be picked out of the flow. The pauses - as important as the movements themselves - were held for merely a breath before the next movement followed. He fell into the last movement and there was silence as he waited for the call to finish. And waited. He knew Alisa had finished, there was no sound of movement beside him. He grinned, he had regularly done this to his sister himself in practice, long long ago. Forcing a long pause, often in an unbalanced position if the step had been taken hurriedly. She was getting her revenge. Luckily he was long past taking hurried steps in this kind of exercise, and relaxed into the comfortable stance.
"Yame." She said at last, unable to hold a giggle. He took a deep breath, pulling himself upright into ready stance, and then launched himself at his giggling sister, dropping and rolling just short to come upright face to face with her.
"Devil chile."
"Diable Blanc." Terms that had once been insults held no sting between the two of them, and with a grin Remy pulled Alisa into a hug.
"'S good t' see y', Sweet. Even if y' did put y'self in danger comin'." Remy didn't miss the slight flinch that ran through Alisa as he pulled her in tight. "Now y' gonna tell me where y' hurt, an' right now."
"What d' yah mean…"
"Don' play dumb wit' me girl. I din' call y' on it in fron' of th' ot'ers 'cause I knew y' wouldn' wanna look weak." He lied. "But y' gonna tell me now."
"Got clipped by de guy wit' de…" She waved her hand over her eyes to show a visor, realising belatedly that Remy couldn't see it. "De eye t'ings."
"Cyke? Dat bastard. He shoulda known better."
"It's alraight…"
"Non, it ain'. Y' goin' t' see th' doc.. Can y' find y' way back t' Henri alright? I need t' warm down else I won' be able t' move t'morrow."
"Sure, 's jus' a scratch, Ah'll be raight back out. Ah'll wait fo' yah upstairs when y' done."