AN: At this point I must thank Louise, who provided me with a life experience I will not quickly forget, whilst proceeding to ace five A-levels while I only just managed to complete three. Damn her. toasts To A students, people-watching and asking questions.
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Ororo visited him in Leadenhall weekly to ensure that there was never anything Remy needed, though, generally, he asked for nothing save her next visit.
Hank visited once to check over Remy's hands for the last time and declare him fit to return to his usual exercise. He left as soon as he was done, very aware that Remy was forcefully hiding his discomfort with his every move.
The professor visited him as soon as he returned to the mansion and the Leadenhall staff greeted him like an old friend. He listened quietly as Remy spoke of his own experiences of all that had happened in his absence, and Remy listened as Xavier told him of the goings-on at the mansion. He spoke of Warren's near-full recovery, despite the strange fainting spell that had worried Hank early on, and the search for Rogue that had been instigated.
But one significant visitor never arrived, and Remy found himself thinking once again about taking advantage of this quiet time to strip down his shields and start rebuilding them all over again without the imperfection of the last rebuild.The imperfection that ached in his mind through the emptiness, that made him lonely even when others were there.
He'd been in the school for three weeks when he finally decided that it was about time he did something about his shields. Taking advantage of a day off with the knowledge that the top floor of the library was rarely used save for storage due to a leaking roof, he made his way towards the empty space with the intention to completely rebuild his shields.
o
Logan stopped his bike in the car park, not quite sure what he was expecting to find but not expecting something that looked like every other high school in the country. The reception was a bulky building that dominated one end of the car park, standing guard over the school. Beyond it, he could see doors that opened into a wide open hall with a stage at one end. Rows of empty seats all attentively faced the stage. Off to either side, two-story brick buildings surrounded a wide courtyard, and a set of signs beside reception gave pointers towards the library, residential area, sports centre and student services.
Only looking a little closer did he see the Braille on the sign; the simple, unembellished Leadenhall logo; the guiding rail on the side of the courtyard, and the student making his way around the far building and across one edge of the courtyard with white cane in hand, wide sweeps showing his path.
He blinked, stepping off his bike. The auburn haired student - tall and lean and looking perhaps a little different with his head down and without that arrogant posture and cocky swagger that he could recognise from miles off.
"Remy!" He called across the courtyard, smirking as Remy started a little, hesitating mid-sweep as he automatically looked up. There was a sudden rush of unfamiliar emotion as a familiar feeling settled into the back of Logan's mind. He smiled broadly. He had wondered if Remy might remove their link while he was away and, though he was loath to admit it, he had missed the extraordinary connection.
"Wolvie?" Remy asked, a grin of his own forming. He didn't approach though, waiting for Logan to come to him.
"Thought I'd come check out yer digs. Got bored of Scooter's prattle without ya ta back-talk him." Logan gave his excuses when he had closed the distance so he wouldn't have to shout.
"T'ought y' might come sooner, m' out of m' mind bored." Remy smiled. "Need a drink.?"
"Thought ya might wanna get me out of yer shields. Didn't know how long you'd need."
"I… din' get aroun' t' it. Sorry."
"Why are ya sorry?"
"Still messin' wit' y' head. I know y' hate it."
"'S all right. I'm gettin' used ta it. Come on, let's get indoors. Then we'll talk about that drink."
"Lead on, mon ami."
o
They talked about what Remy had been doing at the school, Logan quietly taking in the emotions flowing through the link between them as the crossed each topic. Logan learned that learning new things excited Remy - he was taking in Braille almost faster than he was being taught it - but revisiting old things to find new and safer ways of doing them made him bitter. He'd given up on hot drinks because the flare of heat in his mind was so distracting he couldn't focus and he ended up overfilling the cup. The thought of eating in public filled him with a deep embarrassment that Logan quickly decided he would have to cure him of as soon as possible. He looked closely and realised that Remy was perhaps a little skinnier than he remembered. That wouldn't do at all.
Remy eventually got bored of talking about himself, and started asking his own questions. Warren was well and back on the team with Hank's consent. There was still no sign of Rogue and Warren couldn't remember enough of his confrontation to indicate where she might be. Ororo was missing his company dreadfully, and Bobby was trying to fill in his place as team boss-irritant. Scott wasn't taking it well, and Bobby wasn't taking his punishment well. He never had been one for mornings.
Their conversation fell into a lull, having decided it was too early to go out drinking and that Remy wasn't really up for the social scene. But Logan wasn't quite ready to let go of the link that he'd missed. It was Remy that spoke again first, his non-question tentative.
"I was wonderin'… since y' here…"
"What d'ya want, Gumbo?" Logan's voice was gruff, but betrayed his smile.
"Henri said I can go back t' proper exercise wit' m' hands." Logan knew that 'proper exercise' for Remy meant what most people would class as top level gymnastics. "Need someone t' watch me t'rough, jus' fo' th' firs' few times."
"Ta make sure ya don't hurt yerself?" Logan had worked with Remy in training before, when an injury or illness had left him weakened and he was testing his boundaries in a potentially dangerous situation.
"Got some new challenges t' work aroun', neh?"
"Why can't ya ask one of the guys here? They'd know how ta…"
"Y' turnin' me down, Wolvie?" His tone was light, but Logan could feel the undercurrent of hurt.
"Where do ya want ta go?" He gave in with a smile.
"Was hopin' y' wouldn' mind takin' me down t' th' gym in town. Dey only have a basic gym here."
"Sure." He agreed amiably. "Ya said ya had the day off? Ya wanna go now?" Remy's grin was brilliant as he moved to the chest of drawers and pulled out a set of sweats, stuffing them into a satchel that came easily to hand. Hand and wrist supports came out of another drawer and followed into the bag. Putting the bag beside the door, Remy turned to pick up his coat and the folded white cane that he had dropped onto the desk when they had arrived disappeared into a deep pocket.
"Ya ready?" Logan asked, handing over the bag before Remy had a chance to reach for it.
o
The time of day meant that the huge gymnastics hall was mostly empty. Only the young hopefuls that were having their bodies beaten into submission by their trainers were still working. Most of the floor was covered with mats, a couple of sponge pits here and there for the youngsters. Pieces of equipment were stacked up against the walls, and a wide open space in the middle was used for warm up and for the floor event. The spaces were marked out by taped lines on the ground - to stop gymnasts from colliding on the floor and to make positioning the equipment safer.
With a light hand on Logan's shoulder, Remy followed him to the centre of the hall into the open space. Tapping Remy's hand to indicate that they were in place, they separated and went through a standard warm up. Remy concentrated on stretching and warming up every inch of his body, quickly feeling the sluggishness that came from many weeks without this level of exercise. When he was done Remy stood tall once more, happy that he was well stretched.
"How big is th' mat, Logan?" He asked as Logan finished stretching. Logan looked at their small section and guessed.
"About six metres square?"
"We in th' middle?"
"Started off there. You moved ta the left while ya were warming up." Remy took three strides backwards and one to his left then turned slightly to face the far corner.
"Alright?" Logan glanced at the mat, to make sure Remy was in the corner. He nodded.
"Ya want me ta take the other corner?"
"Oui. Jus' make sure I don' disappear off th' far end." He waited for Logan to move into place, trying to judge the distance from Logan's moving form. He found he didn't have the depth perception he needed. Six by six square - he calculated quickly - two steps and two short moves, just enough room to fluff the landing without ploughing into Logan. Not that he was planning on fluffing the landing, of course. He slid his foot sideways and found the tape under his bare feet. Following the line he found the intersecting tape and made sure he was facing Logan who was shifting in the opposite corner.
He was running by the first step, hitting on the second and in flight, one flip with a landing a little heavy but still enough spring for the second flip. He landed heavily again - the weight from the first following through, making him step forwards - but he stopped short of the arm that swung out like a barrier into his path to stop him from overstepping the mat. He grinned wildly, turning to face Logan as he brought his arms back to cross over his chest.
"Hmm."
"'Hmm' what, ol' man?"
"Bit heavy on those landin's." Logan said truthfully. He'd never dream of being able to match him, but Logan knew what Remy was capable of. His comment did nothing to displace the grin, or the bubbling joy that was near electrifying. "Do it again." With a nod, Remy turned and walked calmly towards the corner of the mat he'd started at. Logan let him walk a little off the corner, curious as to whether he would be able to adjust to his mistake. When Remy came across the tape, he hesitated, knowing that he should be in the corner and that he wasn't. He shook his head and turned to follow the tape back to the corner, standing ready once more. Logan grinned.
Nodding to acknowledge that he was ready and knowing Remy would see it, he watched as Remy set off again. His steps were longer this time, and were followed by a much more energetic lift-off.
Even as he made his first landing - light as a whisper, bare feet on padded mats - Logan could see it going wrong. But Remy had taken off again before he could warn him that he was too far across the mats to make another one. He was set to land in one of the sponge pits, a good couple of inches below the level of the mat. He was going to break an ankle if he landed in that without expecting it.
In a second, Logan had judged where Remy would land and thought through a dozen ideas. Resigning himself to the one that would most likely hurt Remy the least, he let him reach inches above where he was expecting the ground to be, his body already fully extended to absorb the weight of the landing. Launching himself across the room, Logan tackled Remy, only just reaching the next mat across before they landed in an ungainly heap with a joint expulsion of air that left them both gasping.
"Din' t'ink dis was a contact sport." Remy wheezed, not moving from where Logan had dumped him on the mat.
"Ya overshot the mat."
"Merde." Remy sat up slowly, rubbing at his ribs. There was a brief snigger from the other side of the room as the younger gymnasts, having taken a break, watched the scene. Logan growled at them until they hurried away fearfully and turned back to Remy, who didn't seem to have noticed.
"Did I hurt ya?" He reached out to push escaping strands of hair out of Remy's face.
"I'll live." A wry smile as he pushed Logan away and retied his hair. "Per'aps somet'in' a lil' more static, neh?" They made their way back onto the centre mats.
"Ya wanna start on yer hands?" Logan asked, finding the centre of the mat once more and feeling Remy's hand drop from his shoulder.
"D'accord." Remy agreed. Dropping to his knees, Remy placed both hands flat on the mat in front of himself and - as though he had a hand lifting his body - he brought himself slowly up into a handstand.
There was a spike of anger that raced through Logan's mind even as Remy wobbled and his right arm buckled beneath him, forcing him to roll forwards to catch himself. Logan shook of the impulse to reprimand him - a response to the anger that was all Remy's.
"Y'alright?"
Remy sat shaking his hands out as he grunted an affirmative.
"T'row th' supports over." He asked, emotions streaked with irritation. Logan threw them one by one from the far side of the mat, where he'd left them, and watched as Remy caught them all left-handed, visibly favouring his right hand. He donned all four supports - the tight neoprene wrist supports and the padded supports that were more like bandages that supported his palm and upper hand. This time when he pulled up into a handstand he held it for several seconds before dropping back down onto the mat.
Calm approval. It didn't give him the excitement of the huge fluid movements, but it was good to be back.
"Once more," Logan said. "And we'll step it up a level."
o
It didn't take much for Remy to convince Logan to come back the next day, or the day after that. Things were quiet at the mansion, and as long as Logan kept a comm. nearby, the X-men didn't need him right there. Without meaning to, Logan became Remy's personal trainer, pushing him when he thought he needed to be pushed, letting him push himself for the rest of the time, and making sure he didn't push himself too hard. It quickly became obvious that Remy would never be able to do this kind of exercise independently: the movements meant he was unable to focus on his surroundings, and they left him disorientated if there was no one nearby when he landed. It was dangerous for him and for anyone else using the gym at the same time.
When Remy was pulling off fluid handsprings and was able to put full weight on his hands in a dynamic movement, they moved the exercises onto the equipment.
o
"When you're ready, lift." They had been pushing on this for what felt like hours, Remy - in a wide handstand on the parallel bars - was fighting to transfer his weight onto one hand. Every time, his stance collapsed inwards and he was forced to dismount the bars to save himself from falling head-first. He'd scrapped the hand wraps as too bulky for this exercise, the wrist supports offered him a little more stability. A deep breath and Remy curled downwards in a controlled dismount, shaking his head.
"It ain' gonna go."
"Let's take a break." Logan urged, drawing Remy away from the equipment and onto the seats that edged the room. Dropping a bottle of energy drink into Remy's hands, he turned his attention to the young girl throwing herself about on the beam as her trainer screamed at her. He shook his head silently, drawing Remy's attention.
"What is it, homme?"
"The girl out there, killin' herself 'cause he wants her to. Don't seem right."
"No' many t'ings in dis world are right, mon ami." Logan watched the student and trainer a moment longer.
"Why are ya here, Gumbo? Doin' this ta yerself?"
"Been part of m' life since I was ten." He shrugged, gesturing to the two still working. "When it was me dere… killin' m'sel' 'cause mon pere wanted me to. It would be givin' in, t' stop now. Givin' in t' all sorts of t'ings I don' wanna admit." Logan simply nodded, accepting the honesty in what he was saying. A rare gift from this man.
"Ya ready ta go again?"
o
He pulled up into the handstand as if it took no effort at all, perfectly straight and not a quiver of movement, despite the huge fluid swings it had taken to get into the position. Every muscle in his body was tensed to keep him there, and it was going to take as much as his body could give, to get him onto one hand.
"When you're ready, lift." Logan's voice was behind him, quiet encouragement. He knew he was ready. He opened his right hand on the bar, a forceful relaxation of those muscles. The smallest push, exertion of every muscle down his left side to bring his balance across, and his hand was off the bar. He spread his weight into a stable position, with his right hand outstretched to offer counterbalance, as quickly as he could. There was a slight wobble, but it was quickly countered as Remy held the position.
"And down." Logan intoned, his voice holding none of the excitement - his own and Remy's - that he could feel buzzing between them.
He swore as Remy missed the pole on the way back down and started falling, unable to catch himself. He wrapped one thick arm around his waist, the other catching his hips as he fell, only just catching him before his head hit the ground. He held still and just breathed for a second to still his racing heart before remembering that Remy was upside down and gently lowering him to the ground.
Logan was suddenly worried when Remy turned away from him, a shudder running through his shoulders.
"Remy?" He asked. The hilarity rolled through his mind even as Remy turned around to show that he was fighting against laughter. "Right... I think it's time ta go home." He smirked, unable to resist the laughter invading his mind for long.