"Logan? Are you alright?" Jean asked, seeing him zone out at the kitchen table. Ororo looked up from the newspaper, alert and on her guard. When Wolverine zoned out, people worried.
"Remy's up." He answered absently. Putting his fork down and leaving his breakfast half-eaten, he headed out into the hall. Remy was sat at the bottom of the stairs, breathing heavily with his head in his hands.
Ororo rushed to his side and Logan flinched along with Remy - surprise panic fear - as she tried to help him up. Perhaps a little roughly - he did not like being afraid - Logan pulled Ororo away. She stumbled backwards and Jean caught her, pulling her away a little to give Logan room.
"Give the kid some room, 'Ro." He muttered without looking back at them, kneeling in front of Remy but not touching. "Hey Remy. Ya hear me?" He asked. A vague nod. "Can ya look at me?" An auburn head lifted from slender hands and a broad white bandage reminded Logan what a stupid question that was.
"'Fraid… 'fraid not, Wolvie." Deep breathy answer, but the sound of his voice and the heavy tint of humour that flowed into his mind was enough for Logan.
"Sorry, dumb question. Yer lookin' a bit off, ya wanna go back down ta see Hank?" The fear that raced through his mind was not at all expected and he fought to keep from popping his claws. Fight or run, fight or run… can't fight… can't run… terror… "OK, OK, not Hank." He soothed, gripping Remy's upper arm in an attempt to calm him.
"Sorry." A soft whisper, his mind filled with remorse.
"It's alright, really. Just take some deep breaths and we'll get ya up to your room. Get ya into some space you're comfortable with."
"No…" A whisper, not aimed at Logan but at himself. "No, not… I can't…" Standing, pushing Logan away with one hand pressed to his own forehead, backing away and stumbling as his feet hit the stairs. Logan stayed where Remy had put him, glancing to Ororo and Jean to make sure they wouldn't move either.
"Remy, talk to us. What can we do?" Ororo beseeched him as he scrabbled up the stairs away from them.
"Stay 'way. Dieu, please, stay away. I can'… control it. Can' shut it down."
"Come on kid, stay with us. Tell us what's goin' on."
"Remy hears y'… jus' don'…" Panicky, shallow breaths. Withdrawing into the third person like a security blanket. It's not me this is happening to, someone else, somewhere else. Not me. Never me.
"I'm stayin' right here. Not moving an inch." Logan soothed.
"What is it that you can't control, Remy?" Jean pushed gently.
"Dere isn' a name… de… de movemen'."
"The sense you have? The one that leaves you open." Logan realised immediately. The one that you don't use because you can't control it, he added mentally. Remy very rarely allowed himself to use that power out of the controlled environment of the danger room - where there was very little other kinetic activity to distract him. And he would only use it in practice with Logan, who he was less likely to hurt permanently.
"Yes! Open an' dangerous. Charged. Remy don'… Remy don' wanna hurt y'."
"This is me, Gumbo. You can't hurt me for long. You know I'm here, can you feel me?" Logan waved, slowly, to create an extra element of movement for Remy to lock on to.
"Remy… sees y'."
"OK. You stay right where you are, and everyone else is going to stay right where they are, and I'm going to come to you, alright?" Slow and precise words, emoting calm. Deep breaths.
"Oui." Almost a sigh. At that acknowledgement, Logan started moving painfully slowly towards Remy. If he could keep him focused and not let him get distracted there wouldn't be a problem. No problem at all.
Just as he thought he was there, Remy's head flicked up towards the living room door.
"Someone's…" Logan was close enough to hear Remy's heart step up a beat as he fought to rein in powers that were threatening to lash out. He froze.
"It's OK. It's alright. Ororo, ya wanna see who that is." His voice was level and calm, and Logan was quite proud of himself. "Remy? Focus on me, alright? Let Ororo get the door, let me get to you."
"Ou… Oui." The last few steps and he was sat beside Remy on the third step of the grand staircase. Logan forced himself not to react as Remy flinched away from his touch. "Sorry."
"Hey, it's OK. Everyone gets times like this."
"Everyone 'cept…" A steadying breath. "'Cept you an' ol' fearless, neh?"
"What, ya think I don't get times like this?"
"Y' got y' powers on a shorter leash. Learnt control long ago."
"Hey Cyke?" Remy tentatively sought out Scott and Ororo as they walked across the hall towards him, very slowly. "D'ya remember that time I almost stuck ya through?" Scott laughed, shortly.
"Which time? It's not like you don't enjoy threatening me whenever you get a chance."
"That time in the boat house. With Jean."
"Oh that one, when we all thought you'd gone feral, but it turned out Jean was giving off something that smelled good."
"What about yerself, anythin' ya can think of?"
"What? Times when I've lost control of my powers? You have to be kidding, right?" He snorted, with less humour this time. "I have infinite control over my powers. It is unshakeable." The dry sarcasm almost hid the pain in those words.
"The hole in the boathouse wall is probably the best example." Jean answered for him. "We had fun that night."
"Ahem." Scott intoned.
"At least it didn't take us long to realise that intimate relations without the goggles was a bad idea." Jean added. Scott's obvious embarrassment was enough to bring a touch of a smile to Remy's lips.
"Remy, you're up!" Remy flinched, jumping at the sudden unexpected sound. Logan was sure he was about to have a heart attack as Scott ducked and Jean and Ororo followed him to the ground, leaving Bobby standing, confused and baffled, on the other side of the room. When there was no sudden explosions, Scott looked up at Remy and Logan still sat on the stairs. The tension in Logan's body was all that betrayed his apprehension, but Remy was just looking confused.
"Wolvie?" He asked.
"Nothing happened, kid. Maybe ya got more control than ya give yerself credit for?"
"It's… I feel more stable dan I should. Per'aps… Per'aps I'm jus' too tired fo' charges?" Remy seemed to slump sideways against the banister as the tension went out of him.
"Either way, let's get yer upstairs before we get to test the theory out."
o
Quite apprehensively, Remy took the card that Logan placed in his hand. The charge flared quickly and easily into life and tapered out as Remy pulled the energy back into himself. The room was quiet, no extra explosions, no recoil from his opened state. He waited for the flare of energy to fade from his mind, letting his new senses view the world around him.
He was sat on the bed and an open window behind closed curtains was letting in enough breeze to shift the curtains slightly, the draught causing a soft eddy of movement through his room.
Logan was sat across from him, in the chair that normally sat under his desk. He was sitting too still to see the whole of him, but steady breathing, a heartbeat and the blinking of his eyes were all details that he could pick out. The clock's second hand moved slowly around the face. A butterfly brushed against the back of his curtain before finding its way back outside.
He fought to shut it all out enough to think about the words that he was trying to find to describe it. Too much information. He couldn't process it all. Logan shifted at the same time as a bird moved past his window and he was lost in trying to follow both. He pushed a hand against his forehead as he tried to hold it together.
"Y'all right?" So much in that simple question. Lips, face, body, breath.
"It's too much."
"Yer had it together out there. Don't lose it now."
"I don' know…" Logan could see the problem. Faced it every day as the smells and sights and sounds of a world so enhanced tried to draw his attention away from the whole.
"Distance yerself from it. Draw back." It seemed so simple when he put it like that. Remy frowned, trying not to see the tiny detail that was just offering itself up for examination. Seeing the broader picture. Like a painting made up of tiny pixels, with no meaning when seen from too close. Like a blind man learning how to see the world, when all he really wanted to look at was the contours of his lover's face.
"Better?"
"I don' know if dere's more detail dan befo', or if I jus' never let m'sel' see dis much wit'out losin' control."
"But ya got control now?" Remy frowned, searching.
"It's like… th' chargin' power ain' connected anymore." He shrugged.
"Ya think Rogue did this to ya?"
"If she did…" He shrugged. "She did me a favour."
"What… did she do to ya? We don't know enough about yer powers ta work out anythin' more than she had them, and she was usin' them." Remy paled a little.
"What… what happened t' Rogue?"
"We sent her away. It didn't take much ta break away from her when I knew ya weren't… Ya know." He shrugged emphatically. Remy saw. "She messed up Jean and Betsy too, but they're…"
"I know. I… heard." Logan sat up a little straighter, curious.
"Ya were listenin' ta all that crap? I though Hank said ya weren't conscious."
"I didn'… understand. Spent las' night processin' it all. Couldn' react ta anyt'in'…" He shuddered. "T'ink Rogue jus' overloaded m' emotions. Shoved all sorts of t'ings in th' wrong places. I had t'… sort it out. Somehow." He frowned, then shrugged with a wry smile. "Dat's what it felt like, anyways."
"How's ya head feel now?"
"Strange." He smiled softly. "I'll get over bein' open like dis eventually if it means I can keep th' extra sense."
There was a knock at the door, and Remy didn't jump this time.
"Come in, Henri." He greeted. The doctor stepped inside. Remy turned to face Hank, a deep frown in place. "Oh, dis is gonna be fun." He half-whispered. Remy was aware of a morass of movement as Hank took a step into the room. Every element of his fur caught his attention and threw it every which way as he moved, and his thick coat moved with him. He felt nauseous, vaguely aware that Hank was speaking and unable to concentrate on his words.
"Hank, stop, please!" He begged.
"Stop what…?"
"Moving. Stop moving." Logan clarified, at a loss as to why Remy was having such a problem.
"Mon Dieu… the fur." Remy slumped backwards on to his bed, clutching his head once more.
"His sense of movement has broken out, and he doesn't know how to control it." Logan explained as Hank froze in place.
"Isn't that…"
"The one that blows shit up, yeah. But so far nothing's gone bang. He thinks Rogue might have re-wired it accidentally." Hank absorbed this, trying not to nod reassuringly, or make any unnecessary movements.
"Well, as I said, Jean sent me, and I brought up a red filter for your windows. I thought it might allow you to change into your contact lenses without too much pain on your part." Remy nodded.
"Dat's clever." He smiled from where he lay on the bed. "Was hopin' y' wouldn' ask me t' come back t' y' lab to put dem back in. Y' have de only red lamp in th' mansion."
"I'll just…" Hank made a step towards the window with intent to place the filters, but Remy's groan stopped him. "I'll leave these with Logan." He finished. "Call me if you need me." He added, heading quickly for the door.