This might be one of my favorite chapters after the Daredevil one. Hi, faithful reviewer! ::waves to Cap::
Stark Tower, New York City, New York
The Past, Five Weeks Ago
Ororo was seated and staring at the conference room tabletop. There was an assortment of objects set before her; a deck of playing cards, a pair of lock picks, a glass marble, a thin leather billfold, a folded piece of paper, a gold watch, and a diamond ring. She reached for the paper and unfolded it. It was a list. It read:
2 Red pepp.
½ & ½
Bread
B. Rice
TP
Ororo wondered: Why would a clone have a list of groceries?
She examined the ring. It had three round diamonds in a platinum setting. Her trained eye could see that it was valuable and of high quality. The gold watch, however, was not. Ororo opened its case to look upon the faux mother-of-pearl face. The watch was broken, the hands stilled. She set it back onto the tabletop. She picked up the billfold. It contained a folded twenty dollar bill, a black and white photo strip from a photo booth, and a personal identification card. She slid the card from its plastic holder. The card was issued to a René LeMieux of Cut Off, Louisiana. It was a license to operate a motorized bicycle. It had expired five years ago. The young boy's face pictured on the license matched that of the boy they now held in a cell in the lowest level of Stark Tower. Ororo set it aside and looked at the photographs. There were two. The strip had been torn horizontally in half; the other two images from the strip were likely in someone else's possession. Ororo imagined they must belong to the blond-haired girl in the photo. In the two photos she now held there were two children, one with light eyes and blond hair, the girl, and the other a boy with darker hair and strange black eyes. The pair were smiling for the camera in the first shot. In the second, they were nose to nose, smiling with silly grins at one another. A boy and girl in love with one another; Remy LeBeau and BellaDonna Boudreaux.
How is this possible? Ororo thought to herself.
She was interrupted by the sound of laughter. Tony Stark was watching the security footage from the cell block many floors below. He had rewound the footage several times now, laughing particularly hard at certain intervals. Ororo was irritated, but not so much as Logan, who was still dressed in his blood-stained uniform and downing a large cup of coffee. The conference room door opened to reveal Rogue. She glanced at Ororo before being distracted by one of Tony's hoots of mirth.
"Oh, this is going right up on YouTube," he said as he watched.
"Do it, and die, Tin Man," Logan growled.
"What's that?" Rogue asked and Tony beckoned her over.
"You have to see this, this is the best part," he laughed, pointing at the monitor. "Oh, wait...here it is! Watch him kick Logan right in the – Ooh!" Tony said, wincing in false sympathy.
"That's Oscar-worthy stuff, Tony," Rogue said dryly as she turned away with a roll of her eyes.
"You didn't see the part where he bites Sam," Tony told her.
"It really wasn't that funny," Sam complained from where he was nursing his bleeding hand over in the corner. Although he had left the battle in Sinister's London unscathed, he had emerged only to be bitten on the hand by their unfriendly captive. The moment Sam and Logan had left the clone alone in the cell, he had set to destroying the thin mattress pad on the metal cot. He used the torn mattress to flood the toilet and sink. He managed to render the security camera useless with a wad of sodden batting. When Sam and Logan reentered the cell, the clone had caught Logan unawares by throwing the wet ticking into his face. Sam had grabbed the clone when he tried to flee through the open cell door. It was then that the young clone had sunk his teeth into Sam's palm.
"That little runt bit me," Sam continued. "Ah hope Ah don't get some kinda weird disease."
"Au contraire," Tony said. "I find it highly amusing that two fully-grown and fully-fledged X-Men cum Avengers get the run-around from a prepubescent Gambit clone."
"Somebody trained him," Logan countered. "To fight."
Ororo opened her mouth to interject when Sam continued: "In what, the art of hair-pulling?" As Sam had wrestled the clone into the holding cell, their young opponent had grabbed fistfuls of Logan's hair and refused to let go. Even now, patches of Logan's hair were still regrowing.
"That and Brazilian jiu-jitsu. He may be a runt, but he's squirmy," Logan said and chucked his empty coffee cup into a waste basket. "Small as he is, he knows how to use an opponent's weight against 'em."
"Is that your excuse for how he managed to escape the cell the first, or the second time?" Tony asked, watching the screen that monitored the cell.
"We shoulda hog-tied him," Sam said.
"How was I to know he had all that junk on him?" Logan asked and gestured at the items on the table.
"Not all of it's junk," Rogue said as she looked over Ororo's shoulder at the objects Logan had removed from the clone's pockets. Rogue picked up the ring and slipped it on her ring-finger to admire it. "Stolen, looks like," she said. "Wonder who it belonged to?"
"I am more interested in these other items," Ororo began. "And what they could mean. Such as this list."
Logan took the list Ororo proffered and studied it with a furrowed brow.
"Someone sent him out with a list of groceries," Ororo said.
"What're you thinkin', 'Ro?" Logan asked. "Sinister was out of toilet paper?"
"There is also this license. It appears to be counterfeit. However, its validity lapsed several years ago. What use is an expired counterfeit ID card? And these photographs."
Rogue took the photos. "That's Belle, for certain." She looked up at the monitor, her face etched in concern. "So you think that's the real deal? That's our Remy?"
"Ours or perhaps another version from an alternate timeline," Ororo said. "The card says his name is René."
"Then how'd he get here?" Sam asked. "Did Hank swing by and pick him up when he was pulling our original X-Men from the past?"
"It's possible he brought himself," Rogue said. "On his own powers."
"Gambit can do that?" Tony asked. "He seemed inhumanly fast, but I had no idea he could traverse time."
"Well, he useta be able to. But not anymore," Rogue said. "Adult-Remy, Ah mean."
Logan was about to reply when Bobby Drake arrived. "Reinforcements are here," he announced. "Cece's down in the clinic for – whoa, Tony. What happened to you?"
Tony gingerly scratched around a missing patch of hair at the nape of his neck. He had blisters ringing his throat and wrists. "A mixture of pepsin and hydrochloric acid," he replied, grimacing.
"Tony got et by a giant cave worm," Sam added.
"Really? Wow. Okay. Well the doctor is in," Bobby said and hooked his thumb over his shoulder. "Down in the med clinic. Where's Pym?"
"Tending to Steven," Ororo said.
"What could possibly have knocked Cap down?" Bobby asked.
Ororo frowned. "An explosion," she admitted. "Caused by my own negligence."
"It was an accident. Tensions were runnin' high," Logan said. "Cap'll be fine."
Tony stood. "I'll be in the clinic. That is, unless Sam needs Doctor Reyes to tend to his boo-boo."
"Ah shoulda let that monster finish his dinner," Sam griped.
"Storm?" Tony prompted. "Your hand?"
"Can wait," Ororo said and stood. "I would like to talk to our prisoner."
"He's not exactly chatty," Logan said.
"Knows a lotta cuss words, though," Sam said.
"You have a prisoner?" Bobby asked. "Who?"
Rogue pointed to the security monitor. "Pint-sized version a'Remy," she said.
Bobby regarded the monitor carefully. The boy pictured on the screen was seated cross-legged on a bare metal cot. Logan had stripped him of his coat and his shoes. "It looks like he's been put through the wringer," Bobby said. "Where'd he come from?"
"That is what I intend to find out," Ororo said.
"You can't be opening up that cell door," Logan told her.
"He's a little demon," Sam insisted.
"I will not underestimate him," Ororo said and looked at Logan meaningfully.
Logan started towards the door. "Let's go then."
Ororo raised her hand. "I do not think you should come along. He is frightened of you."
"Ororo and I can go try to talk to the Lilliputian LeBeau," Bobby said, turning away from his observation of the security camera feed.
"Good luck with that," Logan said.
"There's still the matter of the escaped clone," Sam said. "The one that tricked Tony into flyin' over that pit."
Logan nodded at Sam. "We'll track him down," Logan said and turned to Rogue. "Why don't you find the real Gambit?"
Rogue opened her mouth to retort and then seemed to think better of it. "All right, fine. Ah'll see if the computers can't pick up his signature. He picked a great time t'go missing."
"Sam," Logan jerked his chin towards the door. "Let's scout around. And 'Ro, don't let that kid outta your sight."
When the others had departed, Bobby turned to Ororo. "This is going to be fun," he said and grinned.
~ oOo ~
Remy was sitting motionless on the metal cot, staring at the closed door. He held his damaged hands limply in his lap. They were cut and sticky with partially dried blood. The scratches on his chest seen through his torn tee-shirt were stinging. His bleeding ear ached and he could no longer hear from it. But nothing compared to the throbbing pain in the back of his skull.
A few hours ago, he had regained consciousness while being carried like a sack of potatoes over the animal-man's shoulder. Remy had stiffened and rolled off the man's shoulder to scurry away down a long corridor lined with closed doors. The animal-man and his towheaded friend had tried to wrangle Remy into a cell. Remy had seized the doorframe, refusing to be pulled inside. His two captors changed tack and attempted to shove him into the cell feet first. Remy had thrown up his legs, refusing to be pushed into the small room. He'd screamed, cursed, clawed, kicked, and bit. When that failed, he'd clung to the younger man's torso like a monkey, digging his heels into the man's knee joints until he'd toppled. The animal-man tried to pull Remy free, and Remy had grabbed the man's hair. After a lot of struggling, they had finally managed to force Remy into the cell and close the door. Except the door didn't close all the way because of the marble Remy had wedged into the locking mechanism. Remy had run down the hall and around a corner to come to an elevator. He had slapped at the buttons in a panic, but before the elevator could arrive, the two men had returned to drag him back to the cell. Once more, the door closed and he was left alone.
They soon returned after Remy had twisted the strips of mattress ticking around the faucet's handles, stuffed the batting down the toilet and sink drain, and flooded the narrow cell. When the door reopened, the sodden rag had slapped wetly into the animal-man's face, and Remy was off down the hall a second time. He was tackled and dragged by his legs back into the cell. He managed to put a foot in the animal-man's groin before he was stripped of his jacket and tennis shoes. The animal-man bore down with his crushing weight while Remy was roughly searched. Then Remy was released, where he lay on the wet floor struggling to breathe. He watched the cell door close a third and final time.
He didn't know where he was, but at the very least, he no longer seemed to be in immediate danger of losing his life. He began to believe that he had only imagined Captain America. After all, why would a honest-to-goodness super hero care what happened to a nobody street thief? Or at least that was how he was going to play it if anyone asked. Now that he was captured, he could not implicate the Guild in any way. Nor could he expect rescue. He would have to find his own way out.
There was a metallic clang as the door lock disengaged. Remy tensed, waiting to see if he might have another opportunity to escape. The door swished open to reveal a young man and a tall and elegant woman. Remy's eyes flicked from one to the other. He recognized the woman from before. The other was a new face. The man seemed to be perfectly ordinary, dressed in a knit collared shirt and jeans. He had light brown hair and bright blue eyes. Remy had learned from his limited exposure to these people that appearances were deceiving. Mutants were just as the media had reported, a hidden menace. Who knew if the man would suddenly sprout horns or a tail or fry Remy on the spot with his laser beam eyeballs? Remy was unprepared for the man to stand there and smile at him, however. He didn't seem menacing or gloating, just smiling.
The man raised his hand and said: "Hi there!"
Remy stared at him. Usually, that had the effect of frightening people off. If that didn't work, he would move on to speaking in tongues and uttering curses, his whole Diable Blanc routine.
"Do you recognize me? No?" the man asked and pointed at himself. When Remy didn't respond, he pointed at the woman. "How about her?"
Remy glanced at the woman. He did recognize her, she was the woman who had pulled him from the water. She stared at him with her blue cat eyes. He thought he remembered that her eyes were pure white, but perhaps he was wrong. Remy nodded once. Her expression changed to surprise and she stepped forward into the cell.
"Do you know me?" she inquired. Her voice was regal-sounding, formal, with a foreign accent.
Remy took a breath. "I saw you before. You were gonna let that man kill me."
The woman looked pained. "I am sorry, my friend –," she began.
"You're no friend of mine," Remy told her.
She paused, pursing her full lips. "I apologize," she said again. "We had mistaken you for – someone else."
"I pity that poor fool, and hope he can keep away from de likes of you and yours lest he ends up sliced t'pieces," Remy told her.
"Wow, and I thought his accent was bad before," the man said. "I can barely understand him."
The woman raised her hand to stay the man from speaking. "Robert, please."
"What is your name?" the woman asked Remy.
"Y'all took my stuff," Remy answered. "Seems you should know by now. Didn'tcha check de pockets?"
"Where are you from?" Robert asked.
"Louisiana, ain't that obvious?"
"Okay, here's a tougher question," Robert continued. "When are you from?"
Remy froze, staring hard at the man. How could the man know that Remy had time-traveled?
"Can I guess what happened?" Robert asked. "I'm going to guess you came here on accident. Little mishap with the new powers, right? Hey, don't worry. Happens to the best of us, right Storm?"
Storm looked at Robert, perplexed.
"Well, did I guess right?" Robert asked Remy. When Remy didn't answer, Robert continued: "See, I could tell. I know! What say we get you cleaned up and patched up. You'll feel better after a shower, right?"
"I do not know –," Storm began.
"I know you'll smell better, because pee-yew kid, you reek," Robert made a show of holding his nose.
"Anosmia," Remy told him.
"What's that?" Robert asked, momentarily confused.
"Nasal fatigue, I can't smell anything. So what do I care if you think I stink?" Remy asked him.
"Okay, so here's your options," Robert said as if Remy hadn't spoken. Robert held up a finger. "One, you can shower. Or two," he held up another finger, "we take you out back and hose you off like we do Logan. Take your pick."
Remy unfolded his legs and moved to perch on the edge of the cot. Maybe he would get a chance to escape after all. He was pretty sure the man was joking about the hose, though when Jean-Luc had first taken Remy in, he had been dragged outside by Tante Mattie and scrubbed raw with a stiff-bristled brush and hot soapy water. Prior to that, he had only taken baths maybe once a week, and only if the leader of their little mob of street urchins, Fagan, could catch him.
Robert beckoned him forward. "C'mon. Wait 'til you see the Avengers' locker room. You'd think they were the sultans of Brunei or something."
Remy was surprised. "The Avengers?" he asked. "So that was the for-real Cap'n America I saw?"
"Look at him," Robert said to Storm and pointed at Remy. "He's star struck."
Remy climbed off the cot and stood, trying to conceal how weak and dizzy he felt. He might have swayed a bit. The woman put out her hand and Remy shied away. She let her hand fall back to her side.
"Perhaps you are right, Robert. We can question him after he has been seen to by a doctor," Storm said.
"All right, let's go," Robert said. "No running away now."
Robert turned and left the cell, leaving Storm and Remy behind. Remy gave Storm as wide a berth as possible and followed Robert into the hall. Storm followed slowly. With the unknown man before him and Storm behind him, Remy decided the best idea might be to figure out just where he was before he made another escape attempt. Perhaps if he behaved with complacency, they would drop their guard and he would get a chance to flee. They took an elevator up several floors. They reached a hall with two wood doors, one to the right and the other to the left. Robert gestured the to right.
"After you," he told Remy. "Sorry, Storm. Boys only."
"Robert –," she began.
"I got this, don't worry. He could probably use some new clothes though," Robert said to her, and ushered Remy into the room. He waved at Storm as he closed the door.
Remy took in his surroundings. It was a long room. On either side were tall wooden lockers. There were two long benches down the center of the room. At the far end was a glass-enclosed shower area. The floor was marble tile. It was warm beneath his bare feet. Robert had closed the door behind them. Remy turned to look at him.
"All right, let's not make this any more awkward than it all ready is," Robert told him.
Remy wrinkled his nose at Robert. "Oh, I'm sorry. Is dis uncomfortable for you?" Remy said in an acerbic tone and held his arms out to his sides. "Because it wasn't my idea to get beaten up an' held prisoner."
Robert raised his hands in a placating manner. "Okay, chill," he said. "We're not thrilled with the situation either. We'll work it out. First things first, into the shower you go."
Robert pointed and Remy glanced backwards at the shower. When he turned, he saw Robert opening one of the lockers. He returned with a folded towel which he handed to Remy. When Remy took the white towel in his hands, his fingers left smears of dirt and blood on the terrycloth. Robert put a bar of soap on top of the folded towel. Remy supposed he should concede to the man. It seemed easier than fighting. Robert followed Remy towards the showers. Remy glanced over his shoulder at Robert. The man came to a halt just outside the shower door and put his hands on his hips.
"You gonna stand there and watch me?" Remy asked him.
"I'm not supposed to take my eye off you," Robert said.
"That sounds gay. Are you gay?"
"I'm not gay."
"Bet you are."
"I'm not."
Remy studied him from the ground up. "Okay. Maybe not, but I bet I kissed more girls'n you."
Robert folded his arms across his chest. "Yeah right, tin grin," Robert said. "In your wet dreams."
"Are you sure you're not gay? I don't care if you are."
Robert pointed at the showers. "All right, Justin Bieber. I'm not going to stand here and argue with you. Hit the showers. Toss what's left of your clothes out here."
"My name's not Justin," Remy said, appalled.
"No, I didn't mean – I meant Justin – oh, never mind. You wouldn't know who that was anyway. Go wash up," Robert instructed.
After a moment or two, Remy reluctantly moved to obey. He hung the towel on a hook and put the soap in a metal dish affixed to the wall. Robert left him alone after he threw his ruined tee-shirt and jeans at the threshold. The shower water grew hot immediately. It fell like a torrential rain-shower from a shiny chrome faucet above. It was much nicer than the shower they had back home, which barely leaked out a stream of lukewarm water. Remy stood under the spray, letting his eyes close as the water cascaded over his head. He looked down to see filthy rust-colored water go swirling down the drain. The water stayed hot. It was like a miracle.
He picked up the soap and scrubbed his head with it, careful to avoid the lump at the back of his skull. Remy wasn't sure how long he had been down in those tunnels. Maybe a week. He seemed to have brought back half the filth from the tunnels, as well as dust and soot from the explosion and ensuing fire. He spent a long time trying to get the black out from under his nails. He withstood the sting of soap in his various cuts. When Remy felt he was as clean as he was going to get, he just stood beneath the flow of water and leaned against the wall. Robert didn't say anything to him.
Finally, he turned off the water. It was a novelty to not have anyone shouting at him not to use up all the hot water. He took the towel and dried himself, then draped it around his shoulders so that he was covered. Robert was sitting on one of the benches. He stood when Remy stepped out of the shower area. Robert rubbed the back of his head.
"Geez. When was the last time you ate anything?" he asked, looking concerned.
Remy shrugged.
Robert sighed. "So next we'll go see the doctor."
Remy shook his head 'no.'
"Let's go over your choices. You can wait to see Doctor Pym, or –," Robert told him.
"No," Remy said.
"Okay, Doctor Reyes it is," Robert said and clapped his hands once. "Good, I was hoping you'd pick her. I cannot wait to see her face when she sees you."
"I don't want –!" Remy said.
"Let's go down to the clinic now," Robert said and turned. He seemed to expect Remy to follow.
"Where are my clothes!" Remy shouted at Robert.
"Hopefully, in the dumpster," Robert said. "Storm will bring you some new duds once you get to the clinic."
At a loss, Remy followed after Robert who had now passed through the swinging door and out into the hall. Remy pushed open the door and looked down the hall. "Hey!" he shouted at Robert.
"Clinic's around the corner," Robert said and pointed.
Remy made a sound of frustration and trailed after Robert, hugging the towel around himself. Robert was holding open another door. "In here," he said.
Remy stood in front of the open door. There was a well-lit room with shiny linoleum tiles in a gray and cream pattern. The cream-colored walls were lined with gray cabinets. At the room's center, there was a padded table covered in white paper. Remy felt nervousness grip his stomach.
"Have a seat. Doctor Reyes will be here shortly," Robert seemed particularly gleeful about this.
"You said I could have clothes," Remy said dully.
"Yeah, soon. There's that paper thing you can wear for now," Robert said and pointed to a folded paper gown.
"I ain't wearin' that!"
"Fine, go naked," Robert told him. "Your choice."
Robert gave him a little push and Remy stepped into the room. He turned to protest, but Robert had all ready closed the door. He was left alone in the quiet room. Remy wandered the circumference of the room, opening cabinets. He found gauze, cotton swabs, paper towels, and boxes of medicine. There was a drawer full of metal tools, another filled with plastic covered syringes. He closed those quickly. He reluctantly picked up the paper gown and it unfolded itself. He frowned at it.
Remy went to the door and found it had been left unlocked. He peeked around the door and down the hall. He could hear voices.
"Bobby, do you mind telling me what this is all about?" asked a woman's voice.
"No, I want it to be a surprise!" Bobby said.
Remy ducked back into the room. Maybe he could arm himself with one of those sharp metal tools. Unfortunately, he had no where he could hide any weapons. He hastily pulled on the gown.
There was a short knock on the door and then it opened.
"Ta da!" Bobby said with a flourish of hands, like he was a magician revealing a trick.
The woman Bobby was with stood in the open door at stared at Remy. Remy stared back at her. She was a petite and curvy woman in a white jacket. Her hair was kept in tiny braids which were held back in a ponytail. Remy thought she might be Hispanic. Her mouth opened in wordless shock.
"Bobby – what –?" she said.
"Now he comes in fun-size!" Bobby announced.
"Madre de Dios," the doctor breathed. "Remy, what happened to you?"
Remy felt a thrill of shock go through him. He knew his expression betrayed his surprise, but how did this woman know his name?
"Storm and I think he got lost," Bobby told her. "In time. He's kinda banged up. Remy, this is Doctor Reyes. She'll take good care of you, I'm sure."
Doctor Reyes walked into the room and set her clipboard down onto the counter. She put her hand on top of her head. "And things just keep getting weirder and weirder," she said.
"Have fun playing doctor, kiddies!" Bobby said and closed the door.
Remy and the doctor stared at one another. "Why don't you have a seat?" she asked him and pointed at the table.
"What're you gonna do t'me?" Remy asked her.
"We'll just start with a physical, okay?" she asked. "Sit, sit."
Remy backed up until he met the edge of the table. He boosted himself up onto it. Dr. Reyes approached and picked up a blood-pressure cuff. She wrapped the nylon cuff around his arm with velcro and inflated it with a bulb until Remy felt the cuff squeeze his bicep. He'd seen the machine before at the hospital and knew how it worked, but he'd never had it done to himself. She took his blood pressure and she listened to his pulse. The doctor murmured to herself and wrote something down on her clipboard. She looked at the cuts on his hands and frowned. She looked in his damaged ear with a light.
"Broken eardrum," she said. "Can you hear from that ear?"
Remy shook his head.
"It will heal on its own," she said and he cringed as she placed a cotton ball into his ear and taped it in place. "We'll just have to wait. Don't get any water in it, all right? What else?"
Remy shook his head again.
"You're bleeding through the gown," she said, and pointed at his chest.
Remy looked. Sure enough, there were a few droplets of blood seeping through the blue paper.
"Let's see it," she told him.
"It's not that bad," he replied.
Doctor Reyes pursed her lips and laid her hands around his neck. He jerked back and out of her reach.
"Are my hands cold?" she asked. "Look, I'm not going to hurt you. Sit still."
She pressed her fingers below his jaw and down either side of his neck again, looking for something. "You feel hot," she told him. She turned and found a thermometer in the cabinet and put a plastic cover on it. "Open up."
The doctor made him hold the thermometer under his tongue. He looked down at the digital numbers, eyes crossed. When the thermometer beeped, she pulled it from his mouth. "You have a fever," she said. "Unless that's normal for you. Is it?"
Remy shrugged. He flinched when she lifted one of his eyelids.
"You're dehydrated," she said. She made him open his mouth and say 'ah.' She checked his reflexes by tapping on his knees.
"Lay back," Doctor Reyes instructed.
Remy didn't really want to do that.
"Please," she asked. "I'm just going to feel your stomach. Haven't you had a physical before?"
"Nope," Remy answered.
"Never?"
"No."
"When was the last time you went to the doctor?" she asked.
"I haven't," he told her.
She frowned.
"Have you had any inoculations?" she asked. "Shots?"
Remy shrunk back. "No," he answered slowly.
Her mouth frowned. "Well, I'm going to give you a DTaP."
Remy didn't know what that meant, but he shook his head anyway.
"Go ahead and lay down," she said again.
"I can't," he told her.
"Really?" she asked. "Why is that?"
"I hit my head," he answered. "It hurts."
"Well, why didn't you tell me that when I asked if you were hurt?" she asked, putting a hand on her hip.
"It's not that bad."
"Let's see," she said and put her hands to his head. When her fingers found the lump at the back of his head, he yelped.
"Not that bad? I barely touched you," she said. She picked up a tool from one of the drawers and held it in front of his face. "There's going to be a bright light. It's probably going to feel a bit uncomfortable."
She was right about that. She shined a bright light in his eyes and looked through the tool. Remy blinked away the bright dots that danced in his vision.
"Well, your eyes look normal," the doctor told him. This was news to Remy. "But you probably have a concussion. If you're not going to tell me what's wrong, then I'll just have to send you to get scans and x-rays. Would you prefer that instead?"
Of course he didn't, but he sat there in sullen silence anyway.
"Are you dizzy? Seeing double?"
"Maybe dizzy," he admitted.
"You need rest, bed rest. For a week. No reading, nothing that requires too much concentration. This is serious, I mean it. What else is wrong?"
"Nothin'," he said. "That's all."
"Are you sure?"
"I have a hangnail," he said and showed her his thumb.
She sighed through her nose. "Tell me, do you take any drugs?" she asked.
"No, of course not," he answered dutifully.
"No alcohol?"
"No, ma'am," he lied.
"Oh, really? How about cigarettes?" Doctor Reyes asked.
"Nope," he shook his head.
"Now I know you're lying to me," she told him. "How old are you?"
"Old enough to know better, but too young to care," he answered.
"Very funny," she said, not sounding amused in the least. "Are you sexually active?"
"Not at de moment, but you're welcome t'activate me anytime, chère."
There were a few beats of silence. "I bet you think you're pretty cute," she said, her eyes narrowing behind her glasses.
"Goes without sayin'," Remy answered.
Doctor Reyes went to the cabinets and began opening doors until she found what she wanted. She placed a few things onto a metal tray which was set on a cart and then wheeled it towards the table where Remy sat. He looked at the tray with growing trepidation. He saw there were two syringes on the tray. One was empty and one was not.
"Give me your arm," she said.
"No way," he told her and moved to climb off the table.
"I could stick it in your thigh instead," she offered. "Or you could get tetanus and die. How's that sound?"
"What's that other thing for?" he asked, nodding at the other syringe.
"We should probably do some blood work on you."
"No, thanks."
"What's wrong, are you scared?" she asked, attempting to taunt him.
"Yes, terrified," he agreed.
"Please," she asked politely, changing her tone. "I'm worried for you."
"Why?" he asked.
She looked at him, perplexed. "I suppose you'll find out when you're older," she said finally. "I want you to have this vaccination. I'll let the blood work go if you do this one. Okay?"
"Uhgnn," Remy whined and shrunk away.
"Really? After all you've been through you're going to be a baby about a tiny little shot?" she asked, smiling a little.
"Yes...?" he answered.
"You'll hardly feel it," she told him and took his arm. "Turn and look at the wall."
"Aagh!" Remy cried.
"I haven't even stuck you yet," she said and wiped his arm with a cotton swab.
Remy scrunched up his face and made a whimpering sound.
"See, it's all over. That didn't hurt, did it?"
"Yes!" Remy said and looked at the hole in his arm. "Owww!"
Doctor Reyes stuck a bandage over the injection site. She dabbed at his hands with some antiseptic and then covered the worst of the cuts with gauze.
"I feel sick," he told her.
"Just take deep breaths," she said. She went to the small sink and turned on the tap. She returned with a paper cup full of water which she handed to him. The doctor placed some pills into his palm. "This is for the pain." She showed him an amber colored bottle which she set on the tray. "These, I want you to take three times a day. Just in case of infection. You're not allergic to penicillin? Antibiotics?"
He shrugged.
"Hm," she said. "I want you to drink lots of water, all right? Don't eat too much all at once. Start off with small meals. And just rest."
He shrugged again.
"How did you end up here?" she asked.
"I dunno," he said. "Like what's-his-face said. On accident."
"Did you lose control of your powers?" she questioned.
"No," Remy answered. "Sort of. Not really." Now he felt a little afraid. His powers hadn't worked since he'd caused that explosion. He hoped they would come back, otherwise, he had no idea how he'd get back home.
There was another knock at the door. "How's it going?" asked Bobby through the door.
Doctor Reyes opened the door to reveal Bobby and Storm standing just outside. "We're about done," she told them.
Storm stepped into the room holding a bundle of folded clothing. She held it out to Remy.
"I had your jacket laundered," she told him. "I am afraid it is still damaged, but I imagined you would like it back."
After a moment of hesitation, Remy reached out and took the clothing. He looked at Storm, wondering if she were trying to trick him into thinking she was nice. Her expression seemed sincere.
"Look what I have for the good little patient," Bobby said and held out a red lollipop. Remy frowned at him. He suspected that Bobby was patronizing him, but he took the candy anyway. He was not one to turn up free candy – ever.
"We'll let you change," the doctor said and ushered the other two from the room.
When the door closed, Remy pulled off the paper gown and crumpled it up in a ball. He left it on the paper-covered table. The clothes looked as if they belonged to someone much younger than him. The tee-shirt was blue and had a big black 4 ½ inside a white circle on the chest. He had no idea what that could mean; it sort of looked like the Fantastic Four's logo, but it wasn't. There was a pair of worn blue jeans, shorts, and socks. Storm had also given him a pair of tennis shoes, but they were a little too small. Remy was used to hand-me-downs and ill-fitting clothes. He left the shoes untied. Lastly, he pulled on his jacket. Storm was right, it was burned and torn, but at least it smelled clean. It was still warm from the dryer.
Remy put his good ear to the door to hear the murmur of adult voices from behind.
"He has a concussion. Someone needs to monitor him," the doctor was saying. "For any changes in behavior, sleeplessness..."
"How are we supposed to know what's normal for him or not?" Bobby asked.
"Just keep an eye on him, Bobby. He has an elevated temperature. It may be a sign of infection. I've given him some antibiotics. Make sure he takes them."
"I am not sure we will be able to force him, if it should come to that," Storm said.
"Maybe we can hide the pills in some cheese, like we did with the family dog," Bobby responded.
"I don't know if I should say anything, but... Have either of you heard from –," the doctor began.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" asked a voice.
Remy jumped back from the door. He recognized the animal-man's voice.
"Oh, hey Logan," Bobby said calmly. "No luck finding the clone?"
"No! I thought I told you not to let him out of his cell!" Logan continued angrily.
Remy shuffled backwards and then turned. He ran to one of the drawers and yanked it open. The metal instruments inside slid forward with a rattle. He picked up something that looked like a knife and stuck it in his pocket.
"He was in need of medical attention," Storm said.
"You'd be in need of a body bag if he'd blown himself up," Logan said. "We'd be mopping you off the walls."
"Well, he didn't blow up. Not to mention my shields are resistant to kinetic energy and percussive forces," Doctor Reyes answered. "We're fine."
The door opened and Remy turned to face Logan. The man glared at him.
"We don't know anything about this thing," Logan said and pointed at Remy.
"Logan, please," Storm said.
"This thing?" the doctor repeated.
"Well, he could be a clone or something," Bobby said. "But I doubt it."
"I am not a clone!" Remy shouted.
"Clone or not, he came outta Sinister's lab. And I don't trust him. What's in your pocket?" the man growled.
Remy hesitated, his hand was still inside his pocket.
"Turn out your pocket, kid," Logan snapped and took a menacing step forward.
After a pause, Remy slowly removed his hand from his pocket. He held out the red lollipop Bobby had given him.
"Are you going to take his candy, Logan?" Bobby asked.
"Shut up, Bobby!" Logan said and grabbed Remy by the arm.
"Let go-a me!" Remy said as he struggled to get away, his shoes squeaking on the linoleum.
"Wolverine, it is not necessary to manhandle the child," Storm told him. "He is an innocent."
"I don't know about that," the doctor said. "But he's not done anything wrong."
"He'll do what you want if you just ask," Bobby said. "Nicely."
"You're hurting him," the doctor said. "I just gave him an injection in that arm."
Logan growled at the other three adults. Remy was abruptly released and he stumbled away. He ran out into the hall and positioned himself behind Bobby, relying on him to be a human shield.
"If anything happens," Logan said and pointed at Bobby. "This is on you."
"Fine," Bobby said. "Let's just go upstairs and have a chat. Figure out what we're going to do next."
Logan pushed past them to stalk down the hall.
Bobby looked back at Remy. "Just behave yourself, got it? Don't make me look stupid."
"You don't need any help in that department," Remy told him.
"Hey! I stuck up for you!"
Remy pulled the wrapper off the lollipop, stuck the candy in his mouth and tucked the wrapper into Bobby's shirt pocket. "Little somethin' for your troubles."
"Good god, you're a brat," Bobby complained.
"Cecelia," Storm said and turned to look at the doctor. "Was there something you wanted to ask?"
The doctor glanced at Remy, then at the retreating back of Wolverine. She might have looked nervous or concerned. "Mmn, I – I'll talk to you later. Give me a call if you need any help. I'm going home and to bed. It's been a long night."
"Need a ride?" Bobby asked.
"I'll take the bus," she said and looked at Remy. "Take care of yourself."
"We will take him to the conference room," Storm said, and put a gentle hand on Remy's shoulder.
Remy let them shepherd him down the hall towards an elevator where Wolverine was waiting. Remy balked at going into the elevator car with the animal-man. But Bobby and Storm didn't seem willing to let Wolverine murder him straight away. When the car arrived, he was pushed inside. It was a large space as far as elevators went. Remy supposed if you were being wheeled to the medical clinic in a gurney, it would have to be large. When he turned around he saw a whole wall full of buttons...so many buttons, more than eighty. The building must be very tall, taller than anything they had in New Orleans. Wolverine pressed the button to take them to one of the upper floors. Remy felt the elevator begin to rise. He reached out with both index fingers and ran them down the rows of buttons, lighting nearly all of them.
"What the hell!" Wolverine shouted and shoved Remy back with a broad hand to Remy's chest.
Remy stumbled back into Bobby, who caught him and steadied him.
"I've always wanted to do that," Bobby said. He reached over and pressed one of the buttons Remy had missed.
"Keep your sticky fingers to yourself!" Logan barked at Remy, then turned on Bobby and said: "Don't encourage him!"
The elevator stopped at the next floor. Wolverine jabbed the button to get the doors to close themselves again. "For fuck's sake!" he complained.
They stopped at every floor. Each time, the doors would whisper open and reveal some new technological marvel. Remy found himself leaning forward, interested in seeing more. He nearly stepped off when he saw the large atrium full of armor, weapons, and other things he couldn't identify, all in various states of assembly. Bobby kept a grip on the back of Remy's jacket. Remy thought to himself that if he could steal anything at all from this building and make it out alive, then the other thieves in the Guild would never question his abilities or competence again. His heart practically leapt from his chest at the thought. The woman glanced down at him and he had to look away. Storm had smiled at him and shook her head briefly, as if she could hear his thoughts. Remy tried to remind himself to keep his facial expressions in check.
After several long minutes and a lot of expletives from Wolverine, the elevator arrived at their floor. Storm was the first to step off. When Remy dawdled in the elevator car, uncertain what would happen to him next, Wolverine reached out and dragged him out and pushed him forward. Remy stumbled a few paces then looked back to give the man a surly look. He tripped after Storm, now of the mindset that she was the lesser of the two evils.
They were walking along a wall of frosted glass. Remy could see shapes in the room beyond, but nothing distinct. They came to a pair of glass doors which swished open to either side. Inside was a large room. One wall was taken up with computer and monitoring equipment. The far wall was a great pane of glass; it was a window overlooking the soft blue sky beyond. Remy realized it was early morning. He hadn't known what time it was for such a long time, he had begun to think it was always night. There was a large oval table in the middle of the room with tall padded leather chairs. Some of the chairs were occupied. Someone was also seated in a chair at the computer, but the person's back was to the room and he couldn't see who it was.
There was one person he recognized and that was Captain America. Remy came to a dead halt and Bobby had to nudge him to get him moving again. Cap's skin was red and almost shiny in places. He looked like he might have been burned.
"Steven," Storm said upon seeing him. "I am terribly sorry."
"No worries, Ororo," said the other man who was also seated. Remy thought he recognized him too, from the news. "Steve's eyebrows will grow back in no time. Heightened regenerative abilities."
"There have been worse explosions," Cap said.
Remy felt a flash of hot mortification. Had his explosion blown up Captain America?
"So you let the boy out," said the dark-haired man. He said it absently, as he was preoccupied with something he was fiddling with in his hands. "Make sure he doesn't walk off with anything."
Remy concluded that they must know he was a thief. He stared at his untied tennis shoes, feeling ashamed. He'd never been made to feel embarrassed about being a thief before, and he didn't like the feeling. Standing before Captain America now made him feel as if judgement had been passed and he was found to be guilty.
"Any luck, Rogue?" asked Wolverine.
The chair at the computer turned to reveal the woman in green. Remy's eyes flicked to her and quickly away. He had to take a second look however, since she now appeared as a normal woman. There were no claws or fangs to be seen.
"No, this thing ain't workin'," Rogue said, jerking her thumb over her shoulder at the computer.
To Remy's ears, she had the voice of an angel. He gazed at her with avid interest.
"There is nothing wrong with that thing," said the dark-haired man.
"Ah'm usin' it just like you said," Rogue sassed him. "Your computer program's broke."
The man looked up from his project and pointed a minuscule screwdriver at Rogue. "I would account any inconsistencies you experience to user error."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah," he mimicked. "It will only detect a mutant if the mutant in question is using his or her powers."
"That ain't the problem," Rogue said and pushed her chair aside. "Seems like he's usin' 'em all right. Just everywhere all at once!"
When she turned the chair she revealed a computer monitor with a global map etched out in green over a black screen. There were numerous pinpoints of red flashing in many major cities across the globe.
"So either it ain't workin' right, or he's figured out a way to be multiple places at once!" Rogue said.
"That is not possible," Storm said, taken aback.
Isn't it? Uh, oh, Remy thought and looked down, hoping the people would forget he was there.
Cap turned to look at the dark-haired man. "How many clones did you say you saw?" he asked.
"There was just the one," he answered and set down the object he'd been fixing. He stared at the map.
"Maybe you miscounted," Wolverine suggested, not kindly.
Cap turned to look at Remy. Remy considered hiding. "Perhaps we should find out what he knows," Cap said and pointed at him.
Remy started thinking that he would like to go back to his cell. The woman in green pushed the chair she had been sitting in towards him.
"Here, have a seat, sugah," she said. "You looked plumb tuckered-out."
When he remained immobile, she patted the back of the chair with her hand. "What's a-matter? You afraid Ah'm gone bite?"
He reluctantly pulled his lollipop from his mouth. "Kinda," Remy muttered and then he saw her hand. He couldn't help but point at her ring finger and exclaim: "Hey! That's mine!"
Rogue looked surprised, then seemed to remember she was wearing a ring. She looked at it. "Oh, really?" she asked. "And what's a little swamp rat like yourself doin' with a ring like this?"
Remy fixed his gaze on her. "Well that was my momma's ring, and she's dead now. So you'd better give it back."
Rogue put her hands on her hips. "Is that so?" she said. Her mouth was smiling and her eyes were bright. "And where do you suppose you got that watch?"
Remy glanced over to where she pointed. The dark-haired man was winding the gold watch The Witness had given Remy.
"That belongs t'me," he said.
"Look how cute," the dark-haired man said. "He's pouting."
"You got a story t'go along with that one?" Rogue asked.
"Yeah...I stole it," Remy told her.
The dark-haired man held the watch up with his forefinger and thumb. "This piece of junk? It's not worth the time I spent fixing it."
"Y'fixed it?" Remy asked, surprised.
Cap reached out a hand for the watch. When the dark-haired man placed it in Cap's hand he stood and walked towards Remy. Remy stepped back and as he did, Rogue took him by his shoulder and he flopped back into the chair.
Wolverine spoke again: "Now you're going to tell us how many clones Sinister's got stockpiled."
Remy took his eyes away from Cap to look at Wolverine. He tried to take apart the sentence in his mind and rearrange it so it made sense. Clones...Sinister...Stockpile...?
He moved to put the candy back in his mouth when Wolverine snatched it from his hand.
"Go ahead and answer the man," Cap told him, as if giving permission.
Remy swallowed. "I don't understand de question!" he said, his voice cracking. He winced. The dark-haired man snickered.
Cap held up his hand in a placating manner. "All right," he said, and held out the watch. "Why don't we start at the beginning. Do you have a name, son?"
Remy knew his face must be red, he could feel it burning. He wished he'd mastered the art of keeping a straight face. He looked at the watch, then back up at Cap. Remy thought Captain America might take back the watch if he reached for it, but to his surprise, Cap relinquished the watch into Remy's fingers. The metal was warm from the heat of Cap's hands. He held the watch to his good ear briefly. He could hear its reassuring ticking.
"René," Remy told Cap. He thought it probably wasn't a good idea to lie to Captain America, but did it anyway.
Rogue made a sort of snorting sound. Remy looked up at her and scowled. "D'you think my name's funny or somethin'?" he challenged.
"The name ain't but your answer is," she said. "All right, René. Where y'all from?"
"Louisiana," he responded.
"Ah figured that much. Where at?" she continued.
"Cut Off," Remy said. Surely they'd found his fake identification card. He'd be really stupid if he hadn't memorized it by now.
"Cut Off?" Rogue repeated. "What's in Cut Off?"
"Fuck all," Remy replied. "That's why I left."
"So you're a runaway," Cap said, crossing his arms over his chest as he perched himself on the edge of the conference room table.
Remy shrugged.
"Seems someone was expecting you to be back with the groceries," Wolverine said.
Remy had forgotten about Mercy's list of groceries. "I had t'take whatever opportunity I could get. They don't let me out de house much."
"What a surprise," the man who had fixed Remy's watch said.
"Who are 'they'?" Rogue asked.
Remy scrunched up his nose. "Nobody. Foster parents. They're mean t'me."
"Well, then. We probably won't have to worry about you being missed. Welcome to the great city of New York, young man," said the dark-haired man. "We could always use a few more thieving street urchins."
Remy's eyes went to the window. For the most part, all he could see was blue sky. But below was the city of New York. Of course, he thought. How could he have been so stupid? The Avengers live in New York. He could very nearly weep. He had been in New York all this time and didn't even know it.
Cap must have read his thoughts on his face. "You had no idea where you were, did you?"
"I have a real bad sense of direction," Remy answered dully.
"Is that how you ended up with Sinister?" Bobby asked. "You just took a wrong turn in Albuquerque?"
"I don't –," Remy began. "I don't know what y'all are talkin' about."
"Why don't you cut the crap and quit yer lying?" Wolverine said and pointed at him. "Where is Sinister now? What's he planning? How many clones are there? What were you doing for him?"
"I tell you I got no idea!" Remy shouted.
"Rogue," Wolverine said at looked at the woman in green. "Just take it out of his head."
Rogue looked surprised. "Well, now Logan. Ah don't think –."
Remy leaned away from her.
"My friends," Storm began. "Let cooler heads prevail. Our mission was put at terrible risk because of my recklessness. In my...anger, I acted impulsively, and very nearly killed my teammates. I do not wish to make the same mistake again."
"Storm –," Cap began.
She nodded at him. "Please, allow me to continue. When I saw...the clone of my friend, I reacted without thinking. Logan, I know you care about Jean, as do I, and hope to find her alive. I know we all want very much to see Sinister and his abhorrent creations destroyed. But threatening a child is no way to achieve our goals."
Storm turned to Remy then. "Remy," she said and he flinched. "You do not need to continue your charade. We know who you are. Some of the people in this room know you better than anyone else. I hope you can answer me truthfully."
Remy folded his arms over his chest, burying himself in his oversized jacket. His hand squeezed the watch.
"Can you tell us what you were doing below-ground?" the woman asked.
"Lookin' for a rabbit hole," he muttered sullenly. How could he explain that he had been terrorized by a teenage girl for over a week? That the thought of Alice gave him chills, and that she'd actually been inside his head, controlling him. "I found de tunnel, and I went down it."
Storm regarded him for a moment. "What happened then?"
"I found a house. Like a great big house. So I went inside," he said.
"What did you see inside the house?"
He swallowed nervously. "The pale man," Remy answered quietly. Even now the thought of that man scared him. He glanced at the other people in the room. They were all staring at him. He slouched a bit into the chair.
"Sinister," Storm said. "Do you know this man?"
Remy shook his head. He did know, though. It was the man who had claimed to be his father. But he couldn't tell them that either. They clearly wanted this Sinister dead. Who knows what they would do to him if they found out he was possibly related by blood.
"Did you see anyone else?" Storm continued.
Remy was gnawing on his chapped lower lip. He shook himself, trying to drive away the image of the pale man reaching for him. "Y-yeah," he answered. "I saw two men in de stable. Twins, I think. They looked just de same."
"Blond? With claws?" asked Wolverine.
"Yeah," Remy replied, remembering the scratches on his chest. "Yeah, one of them clawed me. But they was in de stall locked up. And there might've been a third in de machine – a tube thing with gears."
"What about this 'tube-thing'?" the dark-haired man inquired, looking keenly interested. When Remy shook his head with incomprehension, the man continued: "Some kind of cloning engine, perhaps?"
"We never made it to any stable," Rogue said. "After we found Remy here, we came right back up."
"Then we'll need to go back down," Wolverine said.
Storm persisted: "Remy. Did you see a woman? A woman with red hair?"
Remy felt his heart turn in his chest.
"Please, Remy. The woman we are looking for is our friend. She is in danger."
Reluctantly, Remy nodded. Yes, he had seen a woman with red hair.
Storm's expression became eager. "Do you know where she went?"
Remy didn't want to answer. He could imagine the red-headed woman's body, broken under the shattered chandelier. "She's – dead," he finally said. "She died in de explosion."
Storm blinked. He could see her visibly swallow, then nod her head as she looked to the floor.
"Storm, you don't know that it wasn't another one of those Maddie-clones," Logan told her. His voice sounded a bit strained to Remy's ears. "We don't know that it was Jean."
"No. We do not know. Nor may we ever know," Storm said. She slowly turned and walked away.
Remy felt his chest constrict with guilt. He'd killed one of their friends. He didn't know what they would do to him if they found out. Maybe feed him to the animal-man. He peered around the back of the chair to look for Storm, but she had left the room and he couldn't see through the frosted glass to know where she'd gone.
Wolverine turned his attention back onto Remy, strode forward and leaned in close. "I can smell when people are lying," he said quietly. "And if I hear one more lie come out of your mouth –."
Remy shrank away from Wolverine as far as he was able without falling from the chair. He found himself leaning into Rogue's hip. Her hand dropped onto his shoulder in a protective sort of way.
"Logan, now you –," she began.
Remy decided to use the card he hadn't played yet. It was a tricky one, and could easily backfire. But they thought him a lot younger than he actually was and it worked on girls a treat. He burst into tears.
"I – I don't – know – what – you – w-want from – from meee!" he wailed, his words punctuated with sobs. He made sure they saw he was producing real tears before he threw his arm over his face. He cried noisily into his jacket sleeve.
"Logan!" Rogue shouted as she reached out and shoved at the older man. "Look what you went and did!"
Wolverine seemed nonplussed. He stared at the sobbing boy.
"Don't cry, sugah," Rogue said, and patted his shoulder. She pulled him against her side. That was nice, because when she crouched a bit, her breasts pressed right into the side of his face. "It'll be okay."
"He tried t'kill me!" Remy cries were muffled into her chest. She hugged him closer.
"Really, Wolverine. Making a little kid cry. And you, the headmaster of a school," said the black-haired man. "For shame."
"Shut it, Tony!" Wolverine barked. "What're we going to do with this kid?"
"Take him to the school," Cap said plainly and stood. "With the other children."
"Cece said he's sick," Bobby said. "And needs bed rest."
"He can go rest in a cell 'til we figure out how to get what we need outta him. And then put him back where he belongs," Wolverine continued.
"And have him destroy the place from the basement up?" Tony said. "Get him out of here."
"This really isn't a place for children," Cap added. "Whereas the school –."
"Four Freedoms Plaza's got kids. Stick him there," Wolverine said. "Hire a babysitter."
"He's one of yours, Logan," Cap said. "Take him home!"
For a moment, the two men stared at one another. Wolverine finally growled. "Fine," Wolverine said and pointed at Bobby. "Get him downstairs and put him in the van." He turned and started towards the door.
"Where are you going?" Rogue asked Wolverine.
The doors swished shut. Rogue shook her head and sighed. Remy sniffed and wiped his face on his sleeve. Rogue patted his back and hugged him briefly. From Rogue's protective arms, Remy happened to look up and see Tony staring at him. Remy smirked at him.
Tony opened his mouth and pointed at Remy but before he could speak Rogue said: "Ah'm gonna go after him."
"Better you than me," Bobby said. "I'll bring the van around front. Meet'cha down there."
"Hey," Tony said. "Don't forget your rugrat!"
"Ah'll be back in a bit," Rogue said and waved over her shoulder. "Just keep an eye on him for a sec." Rogue and Bobby departed.
Remy sat slouched in the chair, using the toes of his sneakers to rock the chair back and forth. Steve and Tony looked at him. Remy looked back. Using the arms of the chair, Remy boosted himself upright.
"I wasn't really cryin' fer real," he told Cap.
"No, of course not," Cap said kindly.
"I wasn't!"
"It's all right," Cap said. "You don't have anything to prove to me."
"You're really gonna send me away with that cretin?" Remy asked him.
"You'll be with other people your own age. Other mutants," Cap informed him.
"I don't know if I'll like that," Remy said.
"I think you should be more concerned with them liking you," Tony said.
"Can I have one of your robots from downstairs?" Remy asked him abruptly.
"Absolutely not," Tony answered.
"You've got like, five of 'em."
"I'm not giving an eight-year-old a robot."
"I'm fif – sixteen."
"Get yourself a Ford Fiesta, then."
Cap turned to look at Tony. "Did you get a Ford Fiesta when you were sixteen?" he asked.
"Of course not. Don't be ridiculous," Tony responded. "And that's beside the point."
"I've flown a jet b'fore. I could use a robot," Remy said.
"You could use some Ritalin," Tony told him.
"Thanks for fixin' my watch," Remy said and opened the metal case to look at the clock face.
"Wh – what? Oh," Tony said, caught off guard for a moment. "You're...welcome?"
"Is it really seven-fifty? I'm never up dis early."
"Yes. And I might have made a few – adjustments to your timepiece. It will give you accurate time no matter where you end up," Tony bragged.
"Will it really?" Remy asked and held the watch to the ear that he could still hear from. "So it's like magic?"
"No, it's not like magic!" Tony said impatiently. "It's a precise measurement of the oscillation frequency within the nucleus of a cesium atom and the electrons –."
"Magic. Got it," Remy said and closed the watch.
Tony threw up his hands. "Sure, magic. That seems to be the solution to everything nowadays."
"I know some magic," Remy said and held out the watch.
"Do you?" Cap said. "Let's see it then."
Remy cupped the watch in his hands and held them to his mouth, then blew hard into his hands. When he opened his hands again, the watch had disappeared. "Ta da!"
"Bravo," Cap said.
"That's not magic, that's sleight of hand," Tony said. "The watch is in your sleeve."
"You're no fun," Remy told him. "Where's your joie de vivre?"
"It's in my other suit," Tony told him.
"Can I just borrow your robot?" Remy asked.
"Sure."
"Really?"
"No, not really," Tony said.
"Perhaps some day, when you're older...," Cap began.
"Or never," Tony interrupted.
"You might want to come back, and think about how you could use the powers you've been given to serve your country," Cap told him.
"Steve, what are you doing?" Tony asked in a mild conversational tone.
"Nothing. Quiet, Tony. I'm planting a seed, is all," Cap told him.
"Do you really think you're going to make a difference?" Tony asked. "In this kid's life?"
"It can't hurt," Cap responded. "Don't discourage him."
"That's okay. I don't think I can anyways. Come back here, that is," Remy said.
"Why is that?" Cap asked.
Remy looked away. "I got some federal charges against me or somethin'," he admitted. "And I'm probably really, really late for my hearing. So I'm in big trouble for sure."
Cap frowned at him. "That's a shame, son. What did you do?"
Remy grimaced. "Somethin' dumb."
"Surprise, surprise," Tony muttered.
"But you're sorry for your mistake," Cap prompted.
"Sorry I got caught, t'be honest," Remy answered.
"That's...disappointing," Cap said.
"People are that way. Disappointing," Remy said.
Captain America frowned at him. "I expect the best from my people. If you don't expect the best, then you will never see a person fulfill their true potential."
Remy thought there wasn't anything else he could say. Captain America's perspective was so...naive. In Remy's experience, he had to hope for the best but expect the worst. When this was all over he had to go back to living in the real world down in the streets, and not in some high tower overlooking the clouds. The doors swished open and Cap turned his austere gaze upon the arrival. Remy turned and saw it was Rogue.
"C'mon, sugah. Let's get you back – let's get you to the school," she told him.
Remy didn't know about going to any school, but he slid from the leather chair and stood. He felt a little lightheaded and had to blink a few times before his vision cleared. When it did, Rogue was standing next to him with her hand on his arm.
"You all right?" she asked.
"Right as rain," he replied and smiled. "Wit' a girl as sweet as you on my arm."
Behind him, Tony made some kind of choking noise, but Remy ignored him. Rogue blinked at Remy, but then she slowly smiled.
"I'd be much obliged if you'd escort me to d'exit," Remy told her. "This Yankee's hospitality leaves somethin' t'be desired."
"Why, it'd be mah pleasure," she said and made a show of hooking his elbow in hers. He leaned against her for support.
He glanced once back at Captain America and waved at him. Cap raised his hand as well.
Remy thought: If I told Emil I met Captain America, he'd never believe me.
They took the elevator again to the ground floor. They were let out in the sparkling lobby of Stark Tower. Remy could see people moving about on the street outside the glass front doors. He might have made a small sound because Rogue tightened her grip on his arm just a bit.
"Bobby's got the van out front. C'mon, we'd best hurry," Rogue told him.
Wolverine and Storm were waiting at the lobby doors. Remy could see sunlight on the street, the flow of traffic, and people, lots of people.
"Get him in the van," Wolverine said to Rogue. "Then we'll go."
Remy glanced up at Rogue. "You ain't comin'?" he asked.
"Disappointed?" she asked lightly. "Storm'll take care of you."
"You got him?" Wolverine asked Storm.
Storm looked at Remy for a moment, then turned and nodded at Wolverine. "And if you find anything...?" she asked.
"You'll be the first to know," Wolverine said and pushed open the door.
"Though Ah don't know how good cell phone reception'll be down there," Rogue commented as they passed through the lobby doors and onto the street.
Remy faltered at the threshold and Rogue pulled him along. Remy glanced up at her for a moment and smiled. He looked up past her to see the tall expanse of Stark Tower. All around him were tall buildings of glass, concrete, and steel. He continued forward, his head tilted back and his eyes gazing upwards at the city. He was being led towards the open door of a waiting van. The van was steel gray and had the words "The Jean Grey School for Higher Learning" in yellow on the side.
Remy tripped over one of his untied shoelaces. Rogue's grip on his harm lessened slightly as he began to crouch to tie his shoe. Wolverine had been flanking him but now was a pace and a half ahead. Remy stepped back, slipping his arm from Rogue's. Then he turned and bolted.
"Hey!" Rogue cried, and he felt her hand brush the back of his jacket.
Wolverine turned just as Remy ran behind him. Wolverine dove after him and managed to catch hold of Remy's arm. Remy was jerked forcefully around. He brought up his other arm as Wolverine reached to constrain him. Remy sank the scalpel he'd lifted from the medical clinic into Wolverine's bicep. Wolverine jerked with surprise and his grip loosened slightly. Remy twisted his arm free and turned. His feet slipped on the pavement and his legs shot out from under him. He crashed to the sidewalk. It was covered with ice. When he reopened his eyes, he saw Storm and Bobby standing over him. As a pair, they reached down to pick him up by the arms. Remy struggled in their grips.
"Help!" he cried out to random passers by. "I don't know these people! I'm being abducted! Somebody help me!"
"Nothing to see here, people," Bobby said loudly. "Super-powered truancy officers on duty! No more playing hooky for you, young man!"
"Aagh!" Remy cried as he was shoved into the open van door.
The door was slid shut and Remy threw himself at the handle, trying to pull it open.
The driver's side door opened. "Child safety locks," Bobby said and grinned. "Have a seat and buckle up."
Remy moved to attack Bobby in an act of desperation. The passenger side door opened and Storm climbed into the vehicle.
"Stop this at once," she decreed.
Breathing hard, Remy slouched back into the seat. He felt he had little choice, he'd used his limited reserve of energy in his last-ditch attempt at escape.
"Robert and I are more than capable of stopping you, should you decide to attack one of us again," she continued. "Sit down. Fasten your safety restraint. And do not move until we arrive at the school. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, your majesty," he said bitterly. "As you wish."
"This should be an interesting trip," Bobby said. "So, what should we listen to? Top forty? Urban Hip Hop?"
"Silence is my preference," Storm said as she seated herself and fastened her seatbelt.
Remy agreed. He slouched with his head leaning up against the edge of the bucket seat. He stared fixedly out the window until the busy New York City streets slid out of view.
~oOo~
Next: The Devil wears red pajamas.