Chapter 3
AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Playing cards scatter off the bed as Remy bolts up, glowing red eyes wide and lungs gasping for air. The tortured scream seems to echo around his room, fading quickly into silence.
It is real this time. It has to be.
He grips the sheets tightly between his fingers, twisting the soft cotton as though it might anchor him to the bed as he searches his room for what might have caused such an anguished cry, but he can't find anything unusual; nothing is out of place. No one is there. The reality of the situation slowly sinks in. He tries to think back to what he had been doing earlier that morning.
The last thing he remembers was sitting on his bed; just thinking while he played a slow game of solitaire.
He must have fallen asleep. The scream had been in his dreams. That can't be right. It had sounded so real; so familiar, as though he had heard it many times before. He thinks he knows the voice behind it, but he doesn't know from where.
He sits frozen on his bed, fear crawling up his spine as he waits; although what he is waiting for he does not know. After what seems like an eternity his heart beat finally slows and his tight grip on his sheets loosens.
He was worried that someone had been coming for him. Why would he be worried about such an absurd thing?
No one is coming for him.
He lets out a deep sigh, shielding his eyes against the bright sunlight that shines into the room from the open window. It is still late morning. He hasn't even been asleep for that long.
"What Remy t'inkin'? Fallin' asleep like dat." Remy shakes his head, talking to himself while trying desperately to forget the horrible scream that follows him from his nightmare.
He needs a drink.
Remy rubs his eyes with his palm while exiting his room. Trying to regain his focus, he takes a deep breath and heads towards the stairs that will lead him to the main floor where he can then make his way to the kitchen.
Remy is so distracted; he doesn't see her until he is nearly on top of her. Grabbing the solid oak railing, Remy steadies himself to stop from tumbling down the stairs.
Her body lay crumpled at the top of the stairs unmoving, her fiery red hair covering her face. Remy doesn't recognize her; he must not have met this member of the X-men yet.
Remy drops to his knees and lifts her wrist, checking for the familiar rhythm that indicates the pulse. Once he finds it he scoops up the woman's light body with ease and tries to think of where he should go. He knows there is a med lab in the mansion, but he hasn't taken the time to learn the blueprints yet and he wasn't paying much attention when Stormy had told him where the important facilities were located.
He doesn't need to worry for long though. Before he can take his first step, the short man he knows as Logan comes running around the corner and a furry blue man, Dr. McCoy, comes running up the stairs with a medical bag in his hand. Remy briefly wonders how they knew of the passed out woman in his arms.
"Jean!"
Jean must be the women in his arms. Dr. McCoy picks up her wrist and checks for her pulse like Remy had done only moments before. Once he is satisfied that Jean is still alive he holds his arms out to take her from Remy, who shifts her into the doctor's arms awkwardly. Just as Remy lets go of Jean he suddenly finds himself slammed against the wall, Logan's rough fingers tight around his neck. The man hadn't seemed to like Remy from the moment Storm had brought him through the front doors of mansion.
"What the hell did you do to Jean, Swamp Rat?" Logan demands.
Remy struggles to find his voice, gasping as he speaks.
"Didn' touch de femme, homme. Just found her on de ground, passed out."
"Bull! Knew we couldn't trust ya, you good fer nothin', piece of-"
"Logan!" The woman's shaky voice cuts Logan off abruptly, "That's enough! Remy didn't lay a finger on me."
Remy feels the grip on his neck loosen. As Logan steps back, not taking his suspicious glare off Remy, Remy raises his hand to his throat, rubbing the tender flesh beneath his fingers gingerly.
Remy looks to his left, towards the woman with the fiery hair, who now stands rubbing her head with one hand and supporting herself on the shoulder of the furry blue doctor who stands beside her.
Remy eyes her suspiciously.
"I know your name because I can read your mind, although I will admit there is a tremendous amount of static that seems to interfere with that." Jean states matter-of-factly, her eyes shut tightly.
"Good ta hear, chere, don' need ya pokin' around in dere." Remy speaks with an icy tone to his voice, his sudden distrust for the woman before him pushing aside the concern he had felt only moments before at finding her laying on the floor.
"Jean, are you ok? What happened?" Dr. McCoy asks, sensing the tension in Remy's voice and trying to change the subject.
"I don't know Hank..." Jean shakes her head slightly before looking up, revealing bright green eyes that are wide with confusion, and something else; perhaps pain.
Remy has to choke down a gasp as he looks into her eyes; his own widening with recognition, not at the woman standing before him, but recognition of something locked deep within his memories. He steps back slightly, a strange emotion welling up within him. Jean blinks a couple times before turning back to Dr. McCoy.
"I need to see the professor Hank." Jean's tone has turned urgent, almost panicky, "I was heading out to meet Scott when someone screamed in my mind. She needs help! She's calling for help. I need to find her before it gets worse!" Jean's voice quickly becomes shrill as she recalls what had made her pass out at the top of the stairs. Dr. McCoy nods; obviously used to the woman's strange demands. He quickly turns, holding Jean by the elbow and they make their way down the steps, Logan following close behind them.
Remy stands frozen as they disappear from sight. He doesn't want that drink any longer.
Green eyes, wide with fear and pain and confusion stare up at him. He looks around, iron bars, stone walls, so cold. Where is he? Why is he there again? There has to be some reason.
A cold sweat starts to creep down Remy's neck.
The woman, Jean, had heard the scream too. Was it a coincidence? Did she just get some backlash from his nightmare? If she was a mind reader like she claimed, it could be possible. And if that was all it was, how come he was starting to remember things that he could never place before?
The emotion, the thing that had welled up within him as he had stared into those green eyes, it was guilt, but guilt over what?
And why can he remember feeling so cold and scared, like only a child can? Was there something missing from his memories, something he couldn't place? Another piece to the mysterious puzzle he was always trying to solve?
No. Remy shakes his head. No, this place is making him crazy, making him hear things and see things that have nothing to do with him.
He needs to leave, before he completely lost his mind.