Logan was sat with one arm wrapped around Remy's waist, holding him as he shuddered with a cold that came not from outdoors, but from the past. Remy was still sat on his bed, but he had pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He was rocking back and forth absently.

Logan forced himself not to react when Remy flinched away violently, pulling back into the corner of the bed. He held his place at the side of the bed, not making any move and waiting for Remy to acknowledge his presence. He knew what it was to get lost in memory, and the memories that he had brought up - his fault, damn it - weren't memories he wanted Remy reliving. Only patience would bring him out of this without adding to the trauma. Logan waited.

There was the faintest brush of a mind touching his, a shudder down his spine. He wouldn't have known what it was if he hadn't spent the last few months connected to that feeling in the most intimate of ways. He moved across the bed, reaching out to touch Remy's shoulder - the most innocent of touches, with as little threat as he could manage.

"Hey, Remy. Come back to me." Remy leant into his touch as Logan pulled him closer, until his head rested on Logan's shoulder and his arm reached almost automatically around his waist, tangling in his shirt, clinging to him like a lifeline.

"Hey." He murmured, grasping Remy's free hand with his own. "You back with me now?" Remy shuddered heavily.

"Oui."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Why y' doin' dis, Logan?" Remy's voice was distant and subdued, and pulled more strongly at Logan's heart than any shared emotion of the last few months. "Why y' doin' dis for Remy?"

"Thought I explained that already. I care fer ya, Remy. I don't care what that means fer you or me, I just want ya to know it."

"How can y' be sure? Sometimes I'm not sure I didn' make somet'in' happen. I can' say f' sure I didn' do dis."

"Even if ya did, this is how I feel now. I can't think of any good reason not ta feel like this fer you, and I can think of a whole load of reasons why I should." Remy closed his eyes at this admission, fighting back tears. Why couldn't he move past it? Why couldn't he give in to this tidal wave of emotion? Why did they always stand in his way?

"Talkin' about dem… It gives dem strength. Sometimes it's hard t' break free." Pulling the blanket up from the bed to wrap around their shoulders, Logan thought about that.

"Do ya feel stronger after?" He asked, thinking of Xavier's words to him when he had first talked about what he knew of his past - you don't get over traumatic events by hiding them away inside you. He had dismissed it as quack bullshit back then, but he was desperate for some way to make this right.

"I don' know, maybe." Remy didn't sound stronger, he sounded tired. Logan went to trace the dark smudges that outlined Remy's eyes, pulling back when Remy flinched away from his touch.

"Sorry." A plea as much as an apology. Logan turned his attention to the darkening sky outside the window, fighting back angry tears of his own. He wondered how it had gotten so late without their noticing.

"Why don't ya lie down fer a minute." He spoke up after he had collected himself again. "Maybe you'll feel better after some sleep." Remy nodded in vague assent, his mind obviously still far away. Shifting so that Remy could lie flat on the bed without releasing his hold, Logan rubbed gentle circles on his back until he stilled.

Waiting another few minutes, until he was sure that Remy was sleeping, Logan relaxed himself and pulled away, trying to take some perspective on what had just happened.

He had come with an admission he felt sure would be dismissed or laughed at by the womanising Cajun, only to be entrusted with a dark secret that he had disturbed with his clumsy show of drunken affection. A secret that should have crushed all his hopes more surely than laughter would have. He might have preferred laughter to this horrendous truth. Yet, despite it all, Remy wanted to try. Wanted to risk everything on the hope that Logan could be gentle. That he wouldn't hurt him like the other men had. And trusted him enough to fall asleep at his side, despite what had happened - the thought struck him heavily. Remy trusted him. More than he'd ever known.

It was a little much to absorb to say the least.

He slid down so that he was sat on the floor beside the bed, one hand still loosely entangled with Remy's and balanced awkwardly on the bed behind him. He found himself studying that hand as his mind wandered, taking in the softening pink scars across his fingers, the pale skin that pulled tight across his index finger to resist that last bit of movement. As Remy relaxed further and rolled onto his back, his grip loosening further, Logan turned to the palm to find the scars there much reduced, already worn down in daily use.

"Is that what I've got ta do? Wear away the scars?" He was talking to himself, needing to say the words out loud to settle them in his own mind. He kept his senses trained on Remy for any sign of him waking. "These ain't scars, they're open wounds." He sneered to himself. "And who's fault is that, huh?" He sighed. "How the hell did ya hide this from everyone?" He quickly answered his own question with a startled revelation. "Ya slept with women. Lots of women. And ya flirted with all the men. It's all a cover." He was suddenly looking at Remy in a whole new way. He had fooled them all. "Oh Remy."

o

"Logan?" His eyes flickered open.

"I'm here." He answered softly, still sat where he had fallen asleep at the side of Remy's bed. A sigh, and the creak of the bed as Remy laid back down.

"Why?" A weighted question, though Logan had no idea where it was weighted.

"Because ya asked me ta stay?" He hazarded. Another sigh, almost a laugh. The sound soothed Logan's heart, and he turned to look at Remy.

"Non… why… why you after all dis time?"

"Perhaps I was just in the right place at the right time?"

"Or the wrong place." Remy muttered under his breath.

"Maybe it would have been earlier if you didn't keep your emotions so caged in all the time." Logan retorted. Remy paused uncertainly, something unreadable in his eyes. The moment passed, and Remy seemed to withdraw, his lips pursed. They fell into an uncomfortable silence, their own thoughts sitting like a weight between them.

"Sometimes…" Remy stumbled into silence again. He almost visibly gathered himself. "Sometimes I wonder if I would still be attracted to men if it wasn't for them. Whether I would have ended up like this if I hadn't been for… without that experience." Logan's mind stalled as Remy's words sank in. 'Is he attracted to me because I'm like them? I'm the only type of man he knows in that way.' This spoken truth sat between them as each sought a way to move past this moment, each moment of silence cementing the uncertainty.

Remy wondered if speaking his fear had ruined his bond with Logan forever - whatever his kind words and platitudes the night before. To him, the silence and uncertainty he could feel in his mind were symptoms of the same thing - Logan couldn't be attracted to him now that he knew the reason why Remy was attracted to him. Logan couldn't live with him if he was going to be such hard work. Logan couldn't love him if he wasn't sure he could love him back.

To Logan, Remy's silence spoke of fear, and his scent spoke of confusion. Did he fear him now? Were his words meant to placate? To keep Logan from the quick anger he was known for? Would leaving wordlessly help, or deepen that fear? Should he try and reassure him? He dismissed both ideas. Either could be taken as a refusal of his brave offer, and if there was any chance that offer was true Logan wanted to cling to it.

If it were true…

All thoughts coming to a dead end, Logan did the only thing he could think to do. He packaged the last few days away in his mind to process later, and acted like nothing had happened.

"I had an idea about the parallel bars."

o

Logan let Remy warm up as he went over to take a look at the parallel bars. They were attached at each end to the posts that supported them, and those in turn, were bolted to flat weights on the ground that stopped the bars shifting as the gymnast threw their weight about. The uprights had a series of points up the length at which the bars could be attached - allowing the equipment to be adjusted for different skill levels and heights. The points only went half way down though, to the height of the youngest and smallest user, and Remy was more likely to hurt himself falling from there than falling from the setting that matched his own height. Before Antarctica, Remy had always used the top setting on this kind of equipment, where even he needed a springboard to mount the bars, but that was simply impossible as he was. He needed too much information about his surroundings to be able to hit the board in the right place, make the jump and then catch the bars, and he was in a situation where any misstep could mean serious injury.

Logan glanced back at Remy in time to see him roll into a handstand in the center of the mat, a soft frown betraying how much the weight on his right hand still hurt him, before turning his attention back to the bars. Inspiration caught him, and he started dismantling the equipment. He was pulling the uprights out of their weighted casings when Remy finished his warmup and started making his way over to him.

Logan looked over long enough to make sure he was skirting the pit and the horse that was between them, spending a moment thinking on the conundrum of Remy's confidence - in his stride, his gesture, his posture - while they were in here and how he could begin to draw it out of him while he was elsewhere. Getting him drunk was one way, though that had had other less predictable results. Satisfied that Remy had acknowledged the path he needed to take, Logan turned back to his task.

"What are y' plannin'?" Remy asked curiously.

"Just an idea." He answered evasively as he spun the upright over and fastened it upside down in its casing.

"Are y' takin' apart th' bars?" Remy asked, his curiosity unquenched.

"Maybe."

"Why?"

"Wait an' y'll find out." Remy slumped down onto the mats, watching Logan's heated form shift about. It was cold in the hall, so he stood out more dramatically than usual, and so did the young student and her coach who were stood at the door watching curiously.

"Whatever y' doin' - it's drawin' an audience." Logan didn't comment. Ignoring the other two, Remy brought his senses to focus on Logan. Faint hazes of motion were things that he was moving about - the parts of the parallel bars if his guess was right. The material was as cold as the room, but movement gave it a little kinetic warmth that faded as soon as Logan put it in place, handprints made by the warmth of his hands rapidly fading on the surface.

"Right. Done." Remy pulled back with a grimace as Logan flared into his line of 'sight', his body heat hugely bright compared to the tiny amounts he had been focusing on.

"Done what?"

"Come look." Remy's face darkened, but before he could state the obvious Logan caught hold of his hand and pulled him across the mats, pushing down on his shoulder to encourage him to kneel where he placed him.

"Logan… what…?"

"Look."

"I can't…" Remy ground out, his words halted suddenly when Logan grabbed hold of his hand roughly and put it on the bar that was now barely higher than his hip as he knelt on the ground.

"Learn ta do without. Things ain't ever gonna get easier until ya can accept that this is how you are now, and move on."

"Yeah, dat's easy f' you t' say."

"I'm doin' all I can." Remy bit back another sharp retort and sat back on his heels, sighing.

"'M sorry." He shook his head, closing his hand more solidly around the bar Logan had shown him and then reaching out to find the other on his right. "Y' dropped them?"

"Yeah, figured it'd be a bit safer fer what I want ta try."

"Y' still not gon' tell me y' idea are y'?" Remy smiled, finding the centre of the two bars with his hands and settling himself between them. "Y' sure dey're solid?"

"I'm sure." With a nod, Remy folded himself into a handstand on the widely spaced bars, his body perfectly straight from toe to crown. Holding the position until he was forced to give in to the strain and come back down, Remy knelt between the bars again and waited for Logan's idea.

It seemed to take Logan a moment to realise that Remy was waiting for him, and Remy smiled at the hint of embarrassment he could feel as Logan tried to cover up his drifting attentions.

"Let's get ya back to one-handed, and fer now I'll just watch ya back down." He said, his voice filled with a smile. Remy needed to be comfortable in the one-handed handstand before his plan would work, and though he was already comfortable again on the ground, the bars made the position more difficult to achieve.

It didn't take him long to get back into the movement, strength already returning through the training he'd been doing at Leadenhall. When Remy was satisfied he could get into the position without too many attempts, he took a seat between the bars again and waited for Logan's instructions.

"How much of yer surroundings do ya take in while yer up there? Can ya see movement?" Logan asked.

"I used t' be able to. Let me dodge t'ings even when I was doin' somet'in' else." Remy shrugged. "'S not somet'in' I've tried recently."

"OK, now's the time to try it. Up again, and this time yer droppin' back onta the pole, alright?" Remy frowned, but nodded, accepting that Logan's plan would either become clear or that the man would catch him when he missed the landing again.

Pushing up into the strained position took no less than complete control, every muscle straining to hold him there.

There was a sound of metal ringing on metal, and the noise almost distracted him enough to break his tenuous control over his body, but Logan's plan was suddenly very clear. To one side of him the bar was literally vibrating with kinetic energy as it recoiled from the blow. He dropped onto it perfectly, body following straight to the floor to take the weight of his body off his right hand.

He was grinning widely when Logan pulled him into a hug, his claws already withdrawn.

"We'll get ya back up there, Rems. Just you wait."

o

"Hey 'Ro." He greeted Ororo as she approached from the garden. He could tell without looking that she'd been gardening. She was filled with the kind of peace that only nature gave her, and it spilled into the room around her.

"Have you talked with Remy?" She demanded tersely.

"Yes." He turned and met her eyes, let her see everything that his own held. She smiled gently.

"Then I will leave you to your meditation."

"Hey 'Ro." He called after her. She looked back expectantly. "He might need someone to talk to? We're goin' out trainin' after his lessons tomorrow, but…"

"I will see him this afternoon." She nodded.

"And 'Ro." She hesitated again, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Yes?"

"Thanks."

"You are very welcome, my friend."