BENEATH THE SURFACE
Part Twenty-Four
Remy LeBeau probably shouldn't have been at school that next morning; the cough syrup was certainly strong enough to keep him from coughing too much, but he'd managed to finish the small bottle by the next morning.
Luckily for Remy, Hank had more cough syrup in stock which he'd gone and taken without permission. He didn't care if he'd be reprimanded for the act, it was either take the stuff and make it to class - or not go to school at all. Staying home ill in bed would have been the preferred option, he wasn't in the mood to go to school, nor did he like it at all, but being in an almost empty mansion during the day alone didn't sit right with him. He'd rather be in classrooms full of teenagers and teachers he was quickly growing to despise rather than be alone listening to Jean-Luc's filth and wickedness.
His cold left his head slightly clouded, he found it hard to concentrate through most of his classes, feeling far too drowsy to participate much. He'd struggled to even answer at all in French, he just couldn't think straight today even in a language he was perfectly fluent in; fortunately for him, the French teacher seemed more agreeable with him not answering any questions than actually answering them. Rogue made him an excuse for him when it came to his turn to speak in French, saying that he'd gotten a cough, and he'd lost most of his voice.
It wasn't too far from the truth.
As much as he hated being at the school, the day was made almost tolerable by the fact that for today, Jean-Luc seemed to have made himself mostly absent. Perhaps he was sick of the educational environment. Remy knew he himself certainly was.
At lunch, he located the table the others were sitting at in the indoor cafeteria, he placed his tray down and took a seat beside Rogue.
"Where were you?"
"Hacked up a little, so I went t' the mens room," he croaked; he hadn't really wanted to have his wife witness him hacking up globs of mucus into a tissue. The act made him sick enough with himself, some things were better kept private.
"You sound terrible," Kitty said, "should you even be at school? You'll just be spreading germs everywhere."
"At this stage so early in the year, it's probably not advisable skipping," Kurt reasoned, "especially since he has a few years to catch up on."
Remy said nothing; he hated the others knowing he had those missing years of education and he hated that they never let him forget it even if it wasn't intentionally in the spirit of putting him down or making him feel small. Sighing, he pushed his straw into his apple juice and took a sip, it only offering a little relief to the pain in his cough-torn throat. The syrup he'd taken two hours ago had already worn off. The stuff didn't offer relief for very long, especially in small doses.
"You look really tired," Rogue said to him after a moment; he noted the sound of love in her tone, it was subtle, the others probably hadn't picked up on it like he could. He almost wished they could and that this ridiculous charade might be over. If he hadn't been so groggy and ill he might have even attempted to call Rogue out right then, or at least hint towards her feelings for her by pointing out it seemed she cared.
"I'm fine. I slept most of the night," he answered instead.
"Yeah, I came up to wake you for dinner and you were like, totally zonked out," Kitty said.
"Kinda hard t' eat wit' this throat, every swallow feels like broken glass," he complained unhappily, he glanced down to his plate, he had chosen the pasta salad because it looked soft, slimy and cold. He wasn't sure he could stomach it though, and now didn't even want to take a bite.
"Maybe you should try some hot soup," Kitty suggested.
"Yeah," Rogue agreed, "You want me to go get you some? It might help..."
"No..." he said, "swallowin' anythin' hurts right now."
Remy glanced around the table, everyone was there except for Tabitha. He thought the better of asking where she was, he knew better than to offend Rogue so quickly when the awkwardness was barely easing off as it was.
"You look hungover," Rogue commented suddenly, Remy was sure it was inadvertent, that she'd meant to think it rather than say it.
"How would you know what he looks like hungover?" Bobby asked with a snort. "You two been out drinking together or something?"
"I just mean he looks terrible," Rogue said quickly, she flashed a dangerous look at Bobby.
"I feel hungover," Remy confessed, rubbing his head, "except from the nausea...ain' got none of that any more."
"Ah do," Rogue sighed, she stared down at her tray, there wasn't much on it other than an apple, a banana and a carton of orange juice. "Ah caught your stupid flu, you jerk."
"Don' say I never gave y' anythin'," Remy sipped from his juice, he winced at the pain the swallowing caused, he couldn't even hide that it hurt. God, he felt so pathetic like this, he rarely ever got sick and when he did it usually floored him.
"Poor baby," Rogue said, noting the look of pain. He was sure this too meant to sound far less sympathetic and more condescending than it actually did. She actually did sound rather concerned. Her cheeks went a little pink, she composed herself.
"Don't make a fuss," Amara rolled her eyes, "it's just man flu."
"What is man flu?" Kurt eyed the younger girl curiously.
"Oh, you know, how when men get the same flu us girls do but they blow it all out of proportion? That's man flu. We get flu, they get the flu where they convince themselves they're dying."
Remy wished someone would tell the girl to shut up. Amara annoyed him most of the time but he was losing his patience with her this afternoon.
Rogue examined Remy, "maybe you should go to the nurse...get a note and go home?"
"I don't need t' go to the nurse," he said, "I got some of that cough stuff, I shoul' be good," he commented. "Jus' drop it, please?"
"Fine," Rogue spun her apple around absently in her hands, "where's Tabitha?" she asked; Remy was surprised she was the first to ask.
"I don't know, I thought I saw her hanging around with some of the jocks...then she disappeared," Rahne responded.
Kurt's expression turned into a scowl, Remy recognised the look of jealousy and disappointment. He couldn't help but feel the boy would be doing them all a favour if he should just tell Tabitha how he felt about her. It'd get Tabitha's interest off me...Rogue would be happier, Kurt would definitely be happier. And Tabitha would have someone t' care about her the way she needs t' have someone. God, maybe I should jus' tell Kurt t' do it, try t' influence him. Woul' it be wise right now?
Amara spoke up, "probably in the boys locker room, then."
"Amara!" Kitty warned.
"Not alone, either, I'd wager," Amara snootily continued.
"That's not nice," Kitty said quietly.
"But not entirely unreasonable to assume," Amara supposed.
Remy threw Amara a dirty look, he wanted to say a few choice things but held his tongue.
"Enough," Kitty warned, "You know...Tabitha is still one of us and you all speak about her like she's dirt."
"I don't!" Kurt responded, a little offended at the accusation.
That's 'cause y' want her, Remy supposed.
Kitty ignored the comment and continued, "It's time we all just...let up and be nice. We're supposed to be like family to each other."
"She's not my family," Amara mumbled, "you wouldn't find my family's names up on bathroom stalls in the men's room."
Remy swallowed hard to contain his anger with the girl. He was too ill to hold his tongue and pretend to be nice to anyone.
"Amara, enough," Kitty warned again.
"Oh come on, Kitty...you know what she's doing with those boys..." Amara spoke up. Remy looked behind Amara, Jean-Luc was standing smirking, biting his lip while looking at Rogue with that gleam in his eyes as if to think of the things he could do to hurt her.
Thought it was too good t' be true that he'd stay away all of t' day, Remy thought miserably.
"I wouldn't be surprised if she was charging either," Amara added thoughtfully.
Remy snapped, "y' know, Amara," he spoke so lightly, "I'd call y' a cunt, but I got enough experience t' know that y' nothin' like one since y' got no depth or warmth," he stood up slowly, "excuse me."
He left the table; they were all in complete silence. He had almost gotten to the exit of the cafeteria when he felt someone grab his arm; he was relieved to know it was only Rogue as for one moment he had thought it might be Jean-Luc's ghost.
"Rogue..." he sighed.
Rogue followed him out into the hallway. "Wasn't that a little uncalled for?"
"Y' don't think what she said about Tabitha was?"
"Of course it was...Kitty took her aside and is kind of...laying into her about it right now," Rogue folded her arms a little uneasily, Remy felt it might be to stop herself from feeling the urge to take his hand. "But you shouldn't have called her the c word."
"I didn't," Remy smirked darkly, "I said I could call her the c word. If y' like y' can relay to her that I called her the b word though. That's definitely fittin'."
"Remy..."
He looked away, swallowing his pain, trying to not show how much it hurt each time he did so. He didn't want to seem any weaker today.
"Are you okay?"
"Why wouldn' I be?" he asked, voice hoarse.
"You just stormed off."
"I'm not gon' sit there and let her insult my friend, Rogue."
"You sure this is just about that?"
"Course it is," he said. And that Jean-Luc is back there, he added silently in thought. "Look, I'm just...gonna go go take a piss and then go to my locker and toss back a little cough syrup f' this throat, it's killin' me. I'll be back 'fore y' know it. Jus' need a couple minutes t' calm down 'fore I rip Amara's throat out. I'm in no mood for her bullshit t' day."
"Who ever is?" Rogue smirked a little then she turned and coughed, "great, now I'm gettin' this stupid cough. Thanks a lot, jerk."
"Sharin' is carin'," he responded to her.
"Should Ah tell Amara you're sorry?" Rogue asked, looking at him questioningly.
"Put it this way...I'd rather have my dick smeared wit' honey an' fuck a hive full o' live angry killer bees than have Amara think I'm sorry," he replied.
"Okay then," she said, "that's...charming."
"Yeah," he agreed, turning and leaving her; he felt her watching him as he headed off in the direction of the men's bathroom and he stood there at the door for a moment inside, wondering if perhaps he could have handled this much better.
The bathrooms were silent other than the dripping of water from a leaky faucet. It didn't matter what time of day Remy came into this particular bathroom, it always smelled of urine and there was always a puddle of it on the floor in the corner. There were eight urinals, and four stalls, Remy had never seen any more than three boys in here at any one time and yet, someone had always felt it necessary to urinate in the corner against the tiles. Someone had wadded up wet paper towels against the only window, blocking out most of the natural daylight, leaving the slightly dirty yellow light from overhead all that kept the room from being plunged into dimness.
Someone hates the janitor, Remy supposed as he turned to go towards one of the stalls; he'd taken to always going to the stalls regardless of his business. It wasn't that he was particularly self-conscious about himself, but rather it served a purpose so that he could use a permanent marker to scrub over some of the things that were written about Tabitha and any of the other girls he knew. Today, there was a new message about Tabitha.
'Tabitha Smith Swallows' was all that was stated in a small space between a crude picture of a penis and a drawing of one of the teachers bent over passing gas. Remy removed the permanent marker from his pocket where he kept it, and scribbled over the words as best he could, it still showed through a little much to his disappointment. He gave it a few moments to dry in before starting to go over it again, hoping that the words and name would be hidden better the second time around.
Suddenly, without warning, he felt something clutch at his hair and he let out a yelp at the pain that ripped through his scalp; his cheek slammed forward into the wall behind the toilet, his knee banged against it hard right at the bone and the pain jumped through his leg like hot vibrations. He heard the marker plop as it hit the water after falling from his fingers.
"Y' think I can't get y' in here!" he heard Jean-Luc hiss into his ear hotly, the breath grazed his ear and the back of his neck, it smelt foul like rotting meat and decay. Remy felt the protrusion near his tailbone and suddenly he was twelve years old again, pinned and helpless. "Maybe that's why y' in here...waitin' f' it. Y' w' always waitin' f' it..."
Desperately he raised his hands to his head to try and tear the ghostly hand from the grip on his hair but he couldn't feel it, tangibly, Jean-Luc could pin him but he had no way to fight back against it. He tried to struggle out of the grip and Jean-Luc slammed his cheek hard against the wall.
"Y' be free when I say y' free!" Jean-Luc spat at him, and he felt the spit, right on his neck.
Just then the stall door opened at his back, and he turned gasping, someone had walked in, it was one of science club geeks he'd recently found himself feeling a little sorry for (it was hard to not feel sorry for someone who wore pants that were an inch too short for his legs and wore an oversized t-shirt with the periodic table on it). The boy with thick glasses looked at him blankly as he stared back. Suddenly, the release of Jean-Luc's hand and body left Remy's, and he felt almost as if he were about to collapse.
"Uhm...sorry..." the boy quickly shut the door, moving away.
Remy left the stall quickly, not even bothering to explain. He'd probably looked as if he'd been high as a kite on drugs. Let him think that, better than the truth. He stood in the hallway, teenagers coming and going from the cafeteria. He cradled his head, the pain was excruciating where the hair had been pulled. Tears pierced his eyes but he was not about to cry in front of the student body. He wasn't sure how much of this he was going to be able to handle before he broke. It was only a matter of time.
Rogue glanced down at her watch, it was nearly time for fifth period and Remy had not returned. How long did it take to go to the bathroom? She didn't like to try and throw a guess at what he may be doing in there; he already looked ill, for all she knew his stomach had taken a hit from this horrible flu as well as his throat.
Amara had left the table almost twenty minutes ago to sulk about Kitty's reprimand, she had to wonder if perhaps Amara and Remy had run in to each other and begun to argue. Rogue almost mused she'd pay for first row tickets to that argument, as despite right now Tabitha did nothing to help her reputation, Amara wasn't completely untrue about some of the comments.
Maybe he's run into Tabitha, supposed Rogue, feeling the bite of jealousy and concern about it. If he had, what would they be doing or talking about? Stop thinkin' about it, you're just bein' paranoid, she warned herself.
"Why do you keep looking at your watch?" Kurt asked.
"Ah think it's like ten minutes fast," said Rogue in a lie.
"Let me see," Kurt took a hold of her arm and glanced down, "No, it's right...see..." he held up his own watch; it was also his image inducer and the thing was never at the wrong time.
"Oh," she said. "Ah guess time just flew."
"Yeah, it usually does when your next class is the one ya hate," muttered Rahne, scowling; clearly she had such an issue.
"What's your next class?" asked Kitty before taking a sip from her water bottle.
"History..." Rahne muttered, "I hate history in this country!"
"I pretty much hate history in any country," Kurt mumbled.
"Wasn't Remy supposed to be back by now?" Bobby asked suddenly, he was eating a Kitkat and spoke with his mouth full.
"Maybe he went hame," reasoned Rahne, "he looked really sick, they'd have probably sent him hame, nae question."
"Yeah, maybe," Rogue said, she picked up her phone and checked to see if there was any messages. She was certain that if the school had sent Remy home she'd have at least had a text message from him to say. She tapped out a text message to him and waited, but there was no such reply.
The bell rang to tell them lunch time was over, and Rogue sighed, picking herself up and taking hers and Remy's tray – his food uneaten still upon it – to the trash. She made her way to class walking beside Kitty who had to head in the same direction to her own.
"Is...uhm..." Kitty said quietly, "is Remy okay?"
"Yeah, why?"
"He's kind of moody lately," she shrugged, "more so than usual, I mean."
"He's just having a hard time with school," Rogue supposed, "He's not used to the pace of school – getting up early, having to actually be alert and be ready to answer at the drop of a hat...it's just not his thing. And then you know, there's all the stuff at home," she reminded quietly, not wanting to speak about training in front of passing students.
"You're not worried?" Kitty asked.
"He's just ill, Kitty," Rogue tried meekly.
"He was kind of rude to Amara, though," Kitty said, "I mean, he's made smart comments before to her but...I mean, that was so, like, totally unnecessary."
"Ah think he has a headache; Amara's harping on all the time with her mighty opinions is enough to make anyone snap," Rogue pointed out, "Ah'm sure you probably would have if she said much more."
"Yeah," agreed the petite brunette. "I feel bad for Tabitha; I'd be heart broken if like, everyone spoke about me that way."
"No one does," Rogue assured.
"You guys seemed a little less awkward at breakfast," Kitty admitted, "did you guys talk things over?"
"Yeah," Rogue answered.
"What'd you say?"
"Ah...just said Ah was stressed out and her comin' in takin' my stuff all the time was just the straw that broke the camel's back. Ah apologised and we're cool, Ah guess."
"I'm glad, I hate when people aren't talking to each other, it makes things so tense," Kitty responded, "okay, there's my class, I'll see you after school."
Rogue pushed off in the direction of her fifth period class, it was a double period chemistry class, which she loathed. The only thing going for the class was that Remy was her lab partner. This wasn't actually much of a boon when he knew very little of chemistry unless it was sexual.
Remy hadn't arrived at class yet, and she glanced around feeling slightly alone as the other groups pulled on their coats and got out their equipment. She took everything out and prepared for the experiment as instructed, despite he still hadn't arrived after five minutes. It was almost ten before he did show up, and she barely recognised him when he walked through the door.
For one moment, she mistook him for one of the soccer team who shared his height and colouring, it wasn't their looks that was similar but it was the hair. To her astonishment, as Remy LeBeau stepped into the chemistry class, Rogue discovered that he had shaven his hair down to almost the scalp.
Her heart stuck somewhere in her throat as she stared at him across the classroom, her fingers trembled and she nearly dropped the beaker she was holding. He looked so much like a different person; his expression was troubled, damn near haunted, and it made him look slightly taller, mean and hard, the angles in his face stood out, his eyes were startling, standing out like black coals slightly alight.
Her breath came out in a stammer when she realised at once he'd forgotten his sunglasses.
There was a quiet buzz around the class room, no one had seen his eyes before, and everyone was almost as shocked as Rogue felt. She wasn't sure they even saw his hair cut; his eyes had caught everyone by surprise, even their teacher who looked slightly edgy.
He quietly apologised passing a note to the teacher, then went to join Rogue at the back of the class where she was at their counter.
"Remy?" she asked in a shaky gasp.
Remy picked up his lab coat and pulled it on over his t-shirt, he looked dark and broody, and so very unlike himself at that moment that Rogue almost thought a stranger might have walked into the classroom instead.
"This what we s' pose t' do?" he asked, looking down at the printout of set instructions.
Rogue touched his arm, "what happened to your-"
"Okay, it says we got t' fix this up t' the-"
"Remy..." she tried, "what happened?"
He frowned, "I guess I got lice," he muttered under his breath, he picked up the instructions and gazed over them.
"You...guess..." she repeated, dumbfounded.
"I went t' the school nurse 'cause my head was itchin'...she said they was everywhere...they had t' shave my head, they said it was infested and it'd take hours t' get the eggs out so...they took the hair off," he commented, "can we get this done now?"
"Why is it all...red?" she asked, leaning back a little to examine the back of his head, it looked a little red and slightly sore.
"I guess they was bitin' me and I didn' feel it. Y' always said I was hard-headed."
"But-"
"Maybe y' should check y' self when we get home," he suggested.
"But-" she tried again, still in shock.
"It's hair, and it's gone," he snapped, "will y' jus' let up and get this done...please," he lowered his voice. "I don' need another teacher bitchin' at me f' slackin' t' day."
"Where are your glasses?" Rogue asked, looking up at him.
He touched his face and winced, "fuck...no wonder everyone's starin' at me...I thought it was 'cause I got a head like somethin' f' Prison Break," he muttered. "I guess I left them in the nurse's room. Don' matter now, everyone seen. Everyone suspected what I was...No point hidin' any more," he supposed.
"No...Ah...guess not..." she stared at him; the drastic change chilled her in ways she couldn't explain even to herself. She'd grown so used to the way he looked, so fond of it. Fond of his silky long hair and the way it moved when he did, the way it caught the light.
"It'll grow back, Rogue," he said after a moment, seeming to sense her thoughts. "It's only hair."
"Yeah..." she sighed, "I just...liked it."
"So did I," he frowned a little, looking slightly angry, "But it had t' go."
Rogue wasn't sure she believed the lice story but for now, she wasn't going to press for a better explanation. They had school work to do and the teacher didn't like them talking about things outside of their experiments. Rogue sighed quietly to herself realising she had little choice but to let it go for now.
Remy hated his reflection. It was the first time he'd ever been able to truly look at himself and not recognise the person looking back at him. The eyes may have been the same, same delicate slightly sharp nose, soft bottom lip and angular chin, the same high forehead and thick but perfect (in his opinion) eyebrows.
But with his hair barely a centimetre long, he looked like a stranger to himself, a haunted, scared and disturbed stranger.
He stood looking at the mirror above the Professor's office fireplace, the Professor was reading the note that had been sent back with him.
"I don't understand," the Professor said, "how you could suddenly have gotten so infested with lice over a weekend and not realised..."
"It happens I guess," Remy supposed, he ran his hand over his head, it felt soft to the touch, like peach-fuzz; it was the only pleasant thing about this mess. "Nurse said I needed t' give y' that letter and make sure y' follow the steps."
"This is going to be a rather tedious night...all of the bedding in the entire mansion will need to be stripped and boiled wash, as will all the towels. I can't risk everyone being infested with lice..."
"Sorry."
"It's not your fault, you weren't to know," said the Professor, sighing as he dropped the letter to the desk, "I suppose I myself needn't worry..." he ran his hand thoughtfully over his bald head.
"I suppose not," Remy cracked a dark smile.
"Y' goin' t' an awful lot of trouble t' keep a lie goin'. But then y' always did, didn' y'?" Jean-Luc chuckled, "didn' matter what we did behind closed doors, y' were always so exceptional at keepin' it bottled up. Even when the school saw the bruises, y' kept silent like the weaklin' y' always were."
Remy frowned a little, gazing at the reflection of the ghost. Jean-Luc's hair looked like it was certainly infested with lice, there was definitely something crawling in it.
"How much did y' have t' bribe the school nurse t' write that letter?" Jean-Luc smirked, "two hundred? And another fifty f' the letter t' y' teacher. Better hope she don' decide t' blackmail y' and ask f' more."
Shut up, Remy thought angrily. "Listen...I'll go strip the beds and collect the towels right now, I'll do it all...it shouldn' be up t' y' all..."
"No," said the Professor, "I'll have Ororo do it."
"Everyone's gonna think y' diseased and infected, all infested wit' the lice, they gon' know why all the beddin' is bein' stripped...your fault...they not gon' want nothin' t' do wit' y'," Jean-Luc chortled.
Good, thought Remy. No skin off my nose.
"Is that cold getting any better?" Professor Xavier asked.
"I guess..." Remy coughed a little, "the sniffles stopped...not 'fore my nose started gettin' all cracked though," he muttered, "this cough is the only thing thing really botherin' me now. Hank gave me a lil' cough syrup...seems t' help jus' fine."
Okay, so Hank hadn't given him the bottle he'd taken that morning. He had given half a bottle to Rogue the night before though, that accounted for something.
"You're aware you have an appointment with Dr. Forbes tonight at seven?"
"Yeah, I know," Remy said dully, "got it marked down in my iPhone calendar wit' a big ol' grumpy faced icon."
"Logan will be driving you."
"Can I maybe jus' drive myself?"
"I don't think so," the Professor replied, "I know you're cleared to drive as your blood work came back clear of any alcohol and the accident was ruled as nothing more than poor car handling and a slippery road, but I don't think it's advisable to let you drive if you're taking cough syrup. It can make you rather drowsy."
"I know, helped a lot last night," Remy admitted, it had been the first decent sleep he'd had in a good while.
"See Hank for your last dose before bed time."
"Will do," Remy replied.
"About the appointment," said the Professor, pausing, "Have you spoken to Rogue about it?"
"Why would I?" Remy asked dully.
"You're perfectly entitled to your secrets, Remy," the Professor acknowledged, "but...some secrets can be rather...large to keep from one's spouse. I wouldn't want this being kept from her to cause any animosity."
Remy sat down upon the couch against the wall, gazing at the fireplace which today was lit as the autumn was coming in and the air was beginning to get chilly out. The dancing flames were almost slightly mesmerising. "I tried t' tell her...it's jus'...not easy."
"What did you find difficult?"
"How t' say it, I s' pose," Remy shrugged. "How d' y' jus' spill somethin' like that?"
"I imagine it could be no more difficult than finding the confidence to say that you love her..."
"It's vastly different," Remy retorted, he turned to the Professor, "I tell her I love her, I get gooey eyes and doubt. I tell her I'm seein' a shrink, she thinks I'm a psycho and sees divorce in our future."
"You're being slightly melodramatic," the Professor smiled a little.
"Okay, maybe I am," Remy tried to pretend like Jean-Luc hadn't just come and sat along side of him. "But...it ain' easy. She already thinks I'm like a broken tinker toy that needs fixin'. I tell her this and she's gon' think I'm beyond puttin' back t'gether."
"Y' are beyond puttin' back t'gether, y' were always a broken useless piece o' junk that weren't good for much. Other than at night, anyway," Jean-Luc said, seeming almost amused.
The Professor was watching him closely, there was something strangely telling about the way he looked at him. Almost as if he sensed the anxiety about the ghost. Remy tried to relax his posture, but it was difficult, he wanted to move further away from Jean-Luc, further from the putrid smell, but sliding along the couch would make it obvious.
"Don' y' think it's a bit hot in here?" Remy asked, getting up and moving towards the window, "can I open this?" he asked, it wasn't the warmth in the room that was bothering him, it was the smell of Jean-Luc.
"It's rather chilly in here," the Professor looked at him curiously. "Remy...you're acting rather peculiarly. Are you running a fever?"
"Not that I know of."
"Come here," the Professor beckoned him over.
"Yeah, go over t' him, see if he can get any wood beneath that blanket on his lap."
"I'm fine," Remy said, folding his arms uncomfortably and ignoring Jean-Luc's suggestion.
"Remy, come here," the Professor said more forcefully this time.
Remy sighed and walked over, standing opposite the Professor's wheelchair, arms still folded.
"Down," the Professor pointed towards the carpet, "I don't quite have the same reach you'd expect from Hank," he referred to Hanks rather long arms.
Remy looked down at the carpet, and then to the Professor, his back tensed at the thought as Jean-Luc whispered in his ear.
"Y' think he's still capable of gettin' it up enough f' what he wants from y'?" Jean-Luc was chuckling, y' know he coul' probably force y' t' do everythin' he wants y' t' do wit' his mind..."
Wincing, Remy looked away, "Look, I'm feelin' a little hot, y' probably right, I am runnin' a fever..." he said, "y' want me t' go down 'n see Hank?"
"Yes...I'll call him and tell him you will be down," the Professor nodded, he picked up his phone.
Remy hadn't actually assumed that the Professor would call Hank. Remy wasn't sure right now whom he'd feel safer with, Hank or the Professor.
"Wheels here won' be able t' go that far wit' y'. Gorilla like that blue beast...bet he got a lot he coul' do t' y'," Jean-Luc chortled.
Shut up! Remy snapped in thought.
He left the office and began the walk down to the sickbay. He stopped midway when another coughing fit started; he wasn't sure if it was the smell of Jean-Luc's decay that had started the coughing fit, or if it was simply the cough itself rearing it's rather painful and rattling head. He took the small syrup bottle from the pocket of his cargo pants and drained the contents; there wasn't much in the bottle and he sighed before dumping it in the nearby trash. He leaned against the wall for a few moments trying to catch his breath after the coughing ceased.
Hank was already treating Rahne for a rather nasty gash to the knee when he arrived; the girl looked up at him, her expression just as startled then as she had been when she'd gotten into the van after school and seen him sitting there with his shaved head.
"Remy, give me a few moments, I'm just finishing with Rahne," Hank didn't even look up as he was delicately placing butterfly stitches to the girls rather bruised and bleeding knee.
"I'm jus' here 'cause Professor X thinks I got a fever or somethin' stupid," Remy grumbled, he paced a little.
"Ow!" Rahne complained, "that hurts..."
"What happened?" Remy asked casually, glancing towards the unlocked medicine cabinet where the bottles of cough syrup were kept; there was a decent supply of them still in a box straight from the manufacturers. He'd had to pick the lock that morning to get into it as Hank had been elsewhere and he hadn't had the time before school to seek him out to ask for the bottle.
"Bobby left a massive trail of ice right in the kitchen, I fell and caught my knee on it...ice can be pretty sharp," Rahne grimaced.
"Looks sore," Remy commented.
Rahne dropped her eyes to the gash unhappily, "it is."
"Hank, it okay if I get some cough syrup?" Remy asked, "bottle Rogue brought me yesterday was half full when I got it, was only about three capfulls in it and it ran out this mornin'. Ain' much in them..."
"Take a dose right now and I'll mark down the time once I've finished with Rahne's knee," Hank replied distractedly. "You can come get another dose before bedtime, it should help you sleep through that rather nasty cough."
Remy stood with his back turned to both of them, swiftly swiping a bottle expertly using his thieving experience and slipping it up the sleeve of his hooded sweatshirt to wedge it into his elbow so it wouldn't be seen, he took another bottle from the box and made a rather obvious show of opening it, taking a single cap full from the measuring cup and knocking it back like a tequilla shot. "This stuff tastes foul by the way."
"It tastes like feet," Hank commented.
"I don' even wanna know how y' know that," Remy croaked.
"He bites his toenails," Rahne smirked.
Hank grumbled, "I only did that once and it was because it had split while we were in the middle of a training session, nothing more painful than a split and ingrown toenail hanging loose when you're running barefoot..."
Remy smirked a little at the mental picture he had of this, "sounds nasty," he put the bottle away and closed the cabinet, "this gon' take long?" he asked of Hank, "'Cause I got a lot of homework t' do, and I got somethin' t' do at seven..."
Hank raised his eyes, "tell you what, there's a thermometer there on the desk, put that in your ear and press the button..."
"This?" Remy asked, picking up the electronic thermometer. "In my ear?"
"Where did you think it went?" Rahne blinked, glancing up. "In the bum?"
"Like y' woul' even feel it if it were," Jean-Luc cackled, Remy glanced around uneasily, he couldn't see the ghost, but he could certainly hear it. The voice wasn't quite as loud as , he stood, took the cap from the thing and put the thermometer into his ear.
"Not too deep!" warned Hank, glancing up from the stitches.
"Yeah, don't want to take the temperature of your brain," smirked Rahne.
Remy pushed the button and waited until it beeped again.
"Let me see," Hank said, still in the middle of applying another stitch to the long gash.
Remy held the thermometer out to Hank, who glanced at it briefly, "well?"
"Slightly hot but not unusual for someone with a cold," Hank replied, "the syrup should help to bring the fever down too. Remember and come down before bedtime for the final dose. I wouldn't like to think the coughing would keep you up at night."
It won't, Remy thought, as he left the sickbay, bottle still wedged in his elbow.
End of Part Twenty-Four
Just a little start of the week update, hope you're all having a fab Monday!
Thanks so much to those who've reviewed so far and added me to their favourites, and their watched authors lists, etc, it always surprises me when new people pop up all the time adding me and that people take time out of their busy days to say a few things about the chapters. :)
Hopefully I'm not going to be lynched for having Gambit shave his head! lmao. I'm sure this is a bit of a shocking event for some, lol. Anyway, off for a little Far Cry 4 before bed. Thanks so much all for your kind words and your interest in the story :)