I, ASSASSIN

Chapter Eight

*** Authors note: there is a slight mention of child abuse in this chapter. None of it actually pertains to Remy LeBeau (yes, surprise for once, my Remy isn't as damaged as he usually is!) and it isn't particularly explicit, but it is referred to. Just giving this as a trigger warning to anyone with issues of that.

For the first time since becoming an Assassin Initiate, Remy LeBeau slept like a rock. He wasn't sure if it had been all the walking, the hours of patience stalking elk, the peaceful silence of the forest around them, or just the being sick that had totally drained him of all energy. Whatever the cause, he slept so soundly that that night it seemed he'd barely closed his eyes and morning had arrived.

It was Marius' voice that awakened him from the best sleep he'd had in a while. "Get up, LeBeau."

Remy felt the cold slightly damp breeze of early morning air creeping into the tent; he opened his eyes and glanced to the bottom of the tent to see the flap was hanging open. With a sigh, rubbing his tired eyes he sat up, his back aching in objection. A sleeping bag was a poor substitute for a mattress, he supposed. "What time is it?" he asked exhaustedly as he dragged himself to the opening in the tent and glanced outside. Through the trees, he could see the light of sunrise coming up to meet with the dull blue of early morning sky.

"Four forty-five," said Marius; he was hunched over outside putting on his boots. "We overslept."

Remy thought the man to be quite mad. Overslept? It was barely light enough to see where the fire had been the night before let alone light enough to be getting up and going through with more of this ridiculous training.

"Get dressed," commanded Marius irritably.

Remy inwardly sighed; he could feel that today was going to be another long and tiring one. He stretched a little, and noticed the moment he raised his arms that the strong sickly smell of sweat was unbearable even though it was his own. Before they'd left for the camping trip, Marius had insisted Remy not use any deodorants, shampoo or colognes, convinced that even the unscented products would be detectable by animals and could jeopardize the hunt.

"I stink," Remy sighed as he stepped out of the tent.

"You can wash by the river," Marius suggested.

"I don't get why I can't wear deodorant," Remy grumbled as he grabbed some clean clothes to take to the river with him so he could dress down there. "I mean, don't animals smell sweat too?"

"They smell sweat, but the smell of deodorants and perfumes are even more likely to spook them," Marius explained. "What's why I made you spray yourself and change clothes yesterday. The can masks the 'human' smell to the deer, and the clothes I had in those bags for a few days with bits of cedar and twigs and dirt so that the fabric absorbed the smell of the forest. It makes it easier for us to track without being detected."

As Remy began to slowly walk towards the river, he uttered, "well, I don't think anythin' is gonna mask the smell of this today."

"It doesn't matter today. We're not stalking large game."

"Great," Remy said, for the first time feeling enthusiastic.

"We're fishing, instead."

Fishing, Remy had never liked. He'd gone a few times during his childhood with Henri and Jean-Luc but had never much liked it. He found it too quiet and unpredictable, sometimes it could be four or five hours before even the slightest tug on the line, only to end up with no bites. It wasn't that he was impatient, Remy had the tolerance within him to be extremely patient and still for long periods of time...but only if the payout was going to be worth it, and in this case, it just wasn't in his opinion.

With Marius, fishing was even more boring than fishing with his brother or father. Marius insisted on no music (not that Remy had even brought a radio) and definitely talking either as sound apparently spooked the fish. He and explained that even the slightest vibration of sound could be heard through the water and discourage fish from being attracted to their bait. Instead, Remy tried to sit quietly and take in the scenery, tried to imagine music in his head.

He was starving, but the charred elk meat that was still on the menu was too unappetizing to even look at, and Remy couldn't eat the stuff knowing exactly where it came from and how it had died. Eating meat from an animal he'd never had to look in the eye was one thing, but eating it from an animal he'd had to skin and slice into himself was quite another.

There'd been a boat waiting for them after two hours walk to the river, a simple row boat which Remy had had the pleasure of being in charge of rowing much to his chagrin. As the boat gently drifted across the water, Remy felt himself half drifting in and out of sleep, every now and then a bite on his rod would stir him and he would try to reel the fish in only to lose it and listen to Marius complain that he wasn't being patient enough, not giving the fish enough chance to hook on.

I wish this old fuck would shut the hell up, Remy thought dully as he gazed across the water.

Hours passed with only a couple of fish caught, and not very big ones at that. At least they would eat something tonight that he didn't feel guilty about having killed. The sky went from blue to grey, and rain began to spit every now and then. At one point Remy couldn't hold himself awake any longer and did unintentionally fall asleep, although surprisingly Marius did not arouse him from the slumber. Remy only supposed the old man had decided to snooze too, as he was positive otherwise, there'd have been many complaints.

It was only when the rain started to get slightly heavy that Remy stirred, and realised he'd slumbered. By the time the boat had been rowed back to the pier at the edge of the lake, both men were soaked through, and although this was one of the hottest summers in Remy's young life, it was now undeniably cold out, with a wind beginning to pick up.

The rain came in periodical torrents, and the sky darkened. They kept walking, following their compasses and the reference points, the walk taking far longer than Remy remembered it that morning. By the time they had arrived back to camp, the thunder was booming, and the sky was flashing with lightning and both Remy and Marius were soaked through so badly that before they could even enter their tent, they had to undress outside.

"Weather took a nasty turn," was all Marius had said in the last three hours, and Remy had been thankful for the silence. "Was slated to be Sunny and hot until Thursday."

Remy dressed slowly in the tent, it seemed every muscle groaned in objection as he pulled on his t-shirt and lay on the sleeping bag to yank up his dry shorts. Despite he had a high threshold for pain and an even higher tolerance for physical exertion, he felt ill with exhaustion and hurt all over. His body was absolutely racked in pain and he could tell it would be for the next few days.

"What's wrong with you?" asked Marius as he gazed out of the flap of the tent at the heavy rain.

Remy knew better than to complain about the pain. He only knew what his new mentor would reply with. That this was intentional, that physical exertion and pain were all part of this training and exercise. Instead of complaining, Remy kept his mouth shut and lay on his side.

"Nothin' to complain about now?" mused Marius.

"It's been a long day, is all," Remy responded with, maintaining a rather cool composed tone.

"So..." said Marius, sweeping his damp hair from his face. "Lessons learned today? Brief me."

"Patience," replied Remy, he picked up his watch and looked at the time. It was nearly seven pm. How quickly the day had passed. "Lots of it."

"Sometimes," began Marius as he pulled on a rather old-looking t-shirt with what looked to have been the Beatles logo once upon a time. "The wait for the mark can be excruciating, and long. Hours of sitting – or standing – perfectly still in wait. It could be bein' perched on the top of a roof on a real narrow ledge, or it could be stuck in some corner behind a drape waitin' for that perfect moment to slice into your mark's throat. Either way, patience is a virtue, and it is the friend of the Assassin."

Remy nodded a little, and put his watch down to the side of him. He picked up his cell phone. The reception out here was quite poor and he could only get two signal bars sporadically and mostly none at all. He noted the disapproving expression of his new mentor and he put it down.

"I hope you ain't sending info to your family," Marius frowned.

"No," Remy responded quietly. He decided to not elaborate on the fact he wasn't even speaking to either of them after their attitudes towards him the last time they had interacted. His stomach growled, but knowing the only food available was cold fire-cooked elk meat didn't do much for his appetite.

"Hungry?" asked Marius.

"I ain't really into Elk meat," Remy confessed, he tried to hide the look of disgust that he assumed was probably fighting to take control of his expression.

Marius rifled through his backpack at the foot of his own sleeping bag and yanked something out and tossed it to him. "Here."

Remy accepted the item, a cereal bar. Not the most filling of meals he supposed but at least it wasn't charred.

"Soon as this rain eases off I'll see if I can get a fire goin' and cook up the fish," Marius rubbed the back of his neck. "Weather people on television never get it right."

Remy tore the packet of the cereal bar open and bit into the chewy oats, "two types of people to never trust. People that try to predict the weather...and religious figures," he commented. "Ain't neither got the power to deliver exactly what they promise."

"True," agreed Marius, and he lay down, grabbing the book he'd brought with him.

As Remy lay there eating his cereal bar, memories of the catholic orphanage he'd been brought up in came flooding back. There were things he thought he'd long forgotten that now seemed strangely vivid. Names escaped him, but events didn't. There was one boy Remy recalled had been thirteen around the time he was seven (not long before he'd run away from the place the first time). This particular boy he recalled had been caught 'flogging the Bishop' by Sister Mary Agnes (over a pornographic magazine he'd apparently found in the rectory which as Remy remembered, was rumoured to belong to one of the priests). Sister Mary Agnes was of course, the most feared nun in the place and now Remy remembered why. She'd taken that boy to her office, made him lay out his penis on her desk and then dropped a large and rather heavy bible upon it.

Pretty sure there were rumours circulatin' that kid never got a stiffy again, Remy thought as he chewed his bar. All the same, it'd been one of the reasons Remy had never touched himself while he'd been resident in that place. He remembered the warnings the other boys whispered about regarding the boys who played with their privates. They ended up in Priests chambers giving peepshows and servicing the priests in exchange for pieces of candy and comic books (which were forbidden). Such things were most likely rumours and probably not much more, Remy realised now.

Back then I was so young I was ready to believe anythin' I was told. Always thought I'd become some dirty old man's private fuck toy if I even kept my hand on my dick too long while taking a piss, Remy mused as he crumpled up the wrapper and tossed it aside. Still, even now he had to wonder, for all the stories that had circulated about the sexual abuse that had gone on in that place, how much of it had actually been true? He'd seen none of it, and none of the boys had ever claimed to be victims. He'd never experienced much more than the usual punishments such as a cold wooden ruler against his bare ass or being made to scrub out the urinals. He supposed he could only sum it up to the fact that this was the one time in his life that being a mutant had actually worked in his favour. A priest wasn't likely to want to abuse a boy with the devils eyes, after all.

These events, Remy supposed, had shaped him slightly, as although he was rebellious, thanks to lessons learned in that horrible place there were certain authority figures he just wouldn't disobey. And Marius Bordreaux had quickly become one of them.

It was a short while later that Remy noted his mentor was snoring quietly where he lay on the sleeping bag at his side, the book open on his chest. Gingerly, Remy picked up his phone again and checked through his text messages, finding a new one had arrived while the thing was set on silent mode.

He wasn't sure when Bella Donna had gotten his personal phone number, but she'd sent him a picture. A rather interesting one of her cleavage. He might have been thankful for it, but right now, he was still feeling queasy at the thought of her killing the dog days ago and even if she'd sent a picture of those supple young breasts nude, it still wouldn't get that image out of his head.

Beneath the picture, the text message read 'thinking of u x '. Remy sighed quietly to himself and wondered how to respond to this. He'd not been able to think of her quite in the same way he had since she'd shot the dog. He supposed it was only natural. Still, he didn't want to hurt her feelings. After a moment of contemplation, he replied with 'thinking of u 2'. He supposed in some odd way, he was now that she had contacted him.

After twenty minutes, just as Remy was almost close to dozing off, he felt the phone – which he'd left lying on his stomach – vibrating. He raised it to see that Bella Donna was calling. He turned the vibrate function off hastily, and pocketed the phone and went about climbing over Marius. He left the tent, zipped it up from the outside, and walked far from the woods, hoping his sleeping mentor wouldn't awaken.

He answered the call when he was several feet from the tent, moving towards the woods despite the rain that was still pouring down.

"Hey," he greeted Bella Donna, feigning enthusiasm. He always was good at pretending to be more enthusiastic than he really was, especially when girls were involved.

"Where are you guys? I've had no note, no phone calls, nothin'. You guys just took off..." Bella Donna started the conversation off right away.

Remy glanced over his shoulder, making sure he knew which direction he'd come from before heading further out of earshot. Hopefully the rain would hide the sounds of his voice from the sleeping Assassin in the tent. "We're in the woods, stalkin' Elk and fishin'. He says it's part of my trainin'."

"Desensitization," Bella Donna announced. "'Cause he caught you lookin' away when the dog died."

"Yeah, more or less," Remy replied, trying to sound far more casual about the situation than he felt. "What you up to?"

"My grandfather arrived from Paris yesterday to help me with my training," Bella Donna elaborated, "weapons and stealth tactics are his speciality."

"Sounds...interestin',"Remy reasoned. It definitely sounded more interesting than what he was doing.

"So...how was your first kill?" Bella Donna asked.

"It was...fine," Remy gave a shrug, then felt foolish, realising she wouldn't be able to see this. "There...was a lot of blood."

"Clean kill?"

"No...I wasn't used to the weight of the rifle, I clipped it in the neck and it was bleedin' out and cryin' in pain."

"It gets easier," Bella Donna promised.

"Your pop take you huntin'?" Remy asked, quite surprised at the thought of this.

"Grandpa used to before he moved to Paris. Taught me where to find them, how to track them, how to kill them cleanly," Bella Donna explained, "even how to skin them, and how to get the best cuts of the meat."

Remy felt slightly disturbed at the thought of this. No wonder she was so able to cleanly kill the dog without so much as any remorse, she'd probably been killing animals for years. One other thought disturbed him was that Bella Donna was way ahead of him as far as training went. This couldn't be good, surely her father was going to use it as a comparison? Give reason to complain?

She was brought up an Assassin, I weren't, there's a difference, and he'll know that, Remy tried to tell himself.

"So..." said Bella Donna after a moment, sounding wistful, her voice going into that slow, soft, honeyed tone that she used to try to drive him wild. This time it wasn't as effective, but perhaps it was that he was practically in the middle of a cold shower given the rain that was pouring around him. "You've been thinkin' about me, huh?" she asked.

"All the time," Remy said, keeping his voice low, trying to give her the same honeyed seductive tone she was giving him. He hoped he was at least driving her wild. Keep up pretences for the moment, at least until the awkward feeling of disgust about her murdering that dog would ease off a little.

Although he doubted it ever would.

"You think about me when you touch yourself?" Bella Donna asked, sounding incredibly hopeful.

Strangely enough, he hadn't even indulged in this act since he'd come to the Assassins. The constant feeling of being watched made it far too uncomfortable to even bother with thoughts about masturbation, let alone the actual act of it. Regardless of him having not indulged himself as of late, he decided to indulge her with the lie of it all the same. "Wouldn't you like to know?" he teased.

"Well...yeah, or I wouldn't be askin'," she replied coyly.

"Don't worry, chere, I been thinkin' of you plenty."

"So when we gonna get away from thinkin' and to the actual doin'?" Bella Donna asked, sounding even more hopeful still.

"Don't worry, well get to that soon enough," he promised. Promises he wasn't sure he could keep. Right now, the thought of it alone should have had him at least at half-mast. Right now, there didn't even seem to be signs of a flag there at all.

"Promise?"

He decided to indulge her further, "promise."

End of Chapter Eight

Thanks to those who took the time to review. I'm so tickled that people are reading it (although only a few in comparison to other fics I've posted). Glad to see people are enjoying the portrayal of Bella Donna and that I haven't painted her to be quite so heartless or bitchy as apparently other fics have had her be, lol. I've made a point in this chapter of mentioning Remy's upbringing in the orphanage a little just to ensure people know there isn't going to be any revelations of child abuse or him being 'damaged' as a child. Hopefully that comes across somewhat ;)

Thanks to all, hope you enjoy this chapter :)