BENEATH THE SURFACE
Part Thirty-One
"Drug tests?" Kitty Pryde burst; it had been barely ten minutes since the X-Men had returned to the institute following the mission and everyone in the mansion had been called into the War Room to discuss the situation. The Professor and Hank had suddenly decided – without any explanation as to why – that everyone was going to take a drug test.
"Yes," said Hank.
Rogue gazed over at everyone, wondering why it was that everyone was being made to do a drug test now. Normally, everyone had random drug testing discretely, it was never announced this way. This is serious, she thought. We usually get told alone, handed a cup and told to pee...it's never done like this. There's never a structure. What's going on?
Jean leaned forward a little, her arms against the table, "this is rather sudden..." she admitted.
"Yes, I know, and I do apologise. Especially to those who had to leave their Saturday plans to come back here for this meeting."
"Professor," Scott spoke up, "some of us only recently gave tests..."
"I realise that," Professor Xavier said, he was sitting at the opposite side of the table, his expression slightly dark, "but all the same, a new test must be taken by each and every one of you."
"Is...something going on?" Kurt asked, his expression full of worry, "Has something happened? Is someone poisoning our food or something? Because I don't see why this is coming up now..."
"No one is poisoning your food," Hank said, "it's just standard."
"This isn't standard," Kitty frowned a little, "a lot of us gave tests last month...and I know they came up clean."
"Yeah," agreed Rahne, "I mean, it's a bit...you know...extreme. None of us have ever done anything...it's like we're being accused. All of us."
"No one is being accused of anything," the Professor promised. "You'll all be tested, and of course the tests will come up clean."
"If you know that, then why bother?" Amara asked with a frown. "If you trust us, why put us through this."
"I believe the old method of random testing everyone at different stages is a little...outdated," the Professor replied after a moment, "so I'd like to start having tests run regularly, with everyone in attendance."
Hank spoke up, "we believe this method is going to help us keep track of things much more efficiently and in the process it will make all of you feel a little less...targeted."
"Sounds fishy to me," muttered Ray under his breath, Rogue heard him at her back and she didn't feel it necessary to vocally agree.
Hank continued, "Now, the way this will work is as follows. I'll be calling all of you one by one to come to the sickbay, you'll go to the adjoining bathroom and urinate into the cup provided while I stand outside."
"You're going to stand outside of the door?" Scott seemed appalled.
"Yes," Hank said.
"Why, do you think we're going to be smuggling pee?" asked Bobby, looking slightly worried at the back of the room. Rogue wondered if recently the boy had been smoking weed judging by the rather guilty look on his young face.
"No one is accusing anyone of smuggling anything, but you will be checked before going into the bathroom. And do beware, that my tests can and will detect if your urine is not your own."
"Aw man," muttered Bobby in misery.
"Professor," Jean spoke up, "don't we at least deserve an explanation why this is all happening now? Especially on a Saturday? Couldn't it have just waited until Monday afternoon after school?"
"He doesn't need to give an explanation," Tabitha snorted, she was standing by the wall, Rogue had avoided even looking in her direction and right now just the sound of her voice grated on her immensely. "Someone has brought something into the mansion, and they're looking to see who did it."
"None of us are that stupid," Ray assured.
"I'm not accusing anyone of doing anything," the Professor replied, "As for why I have chosen today, Saturday was the best day as I didn't feel it fair to interrupt training, chores and your homework schedules."
"Everyone is doing it. Even the instructors will be tested," Hank explained.
"What if no one has to go?" asked Amara with a frown.
"Then I'd suggest you go drink a lot of Sunny D," Logan responded.
"And just so you know," Hank brought up, "drinking excessive amounts of water and trying to get rid of anything you may have in your system will not work. My drug testing methods are of my own creation and will pick up the tiniest traces of anything. Drinking water will not dilute it even if you drink gallons of it. I will know. So if any of you have been smoking anything, taking pills or...eating any special homemade brownies, Iwould suggest coming to me quietly to confess privately after this meeting."
No one said anything, but Rogue did spy a few guilty faces. One face she did not spy at all in the war room was Remy. It hadn't even struck her until that moment that he wasn't there, she'd been trying hard not to look around too much in case she did see him, in case he did try to catch her attention.
Where was he exactly?
"You may all be dismissed for the time being. We shall call you when we're ready for you."
Rogue sat waiting quietly, her sickness had let off a little since earlier, but she didn't altogether feel better. Just thinking of Remy alone made her stress levels rise so high she thought about crying right then, about breaking down. She never felt this way usually, never usually let herself get that upset.
Do not let that happen, she warned herself. You are not a child, you're going to get over this.
"Something the matter?" the Professor gazed over to Rogue. Rogue paused, glancing towards Hank who was busying himself about something at the control panel nearby. Briefly, she noticed him give the Professor a strangely knowing look, then he simply left the room without any excuse or reason given.
Rogue took a breath, finding this rather odd but deciding to ignore it, "I...was just...wondering why Remy isn't here..."
The Professor frowned a little, "I know where Remy is at the moment, everything is fine."
Rogue raised an eyebrow, "oh?"
"Yes," the Professor said, he looked down at his attendance sheet, checking off all the names of people who had been at the meeting, he was being thorough. Rogue wondered why it was Remy wasn't necessary to be on that list? He didn't seem to have any intention of actually explaining Remy's whereabouts. This only piqued her curiosity.
"Is...everything all right with him?" she managed to ask, refusing to leave it at that.
"I would assume so," the Professor said lightly, he wasn't even looking at her, "unless there's anything you'd like to tell me about."
"We..." she began. Had a fight, we broke up, he cheated on me, he lied to me, he's an asshole...
She couldn't say any of it.
Rogue stood up slowly, composing herself. "We're fine."
"I see," the Professor glanced up at her. "And what about you?"
"What about me?"
"Is there anything you would like to tell me?"
"Not at all," Rogue said.
"You've seemed a little unhappy these past few days, Rogue."
"Ah'm fine," she forced a smile, it hurt her face but she thought she managed rather superbly under the circumstances. My husband is screwin' a blonde golddiggin' bimbo, and Ah'm dust, but Ah'm smilin' and everythin' is fine.
"You've been quiet lately, very preoccupied. You know if there is anything you would like to discuss, you only need to come to me."
"Ah know that," she replied.
"There's nothing on your mind?"
"Nothing," she responded, hoping that there was no chance he may be reading her mind at that moment.
"Very well," the Professor replied, his expression strangely conflicted. "How have you been keeping?"
"What do you mean?"
"Hank told me you vomited on the Blackbird."
"Oh," she managed, wincing at the memory of it. She could still taste it. "Just a little motion sickness. Or maybe it's just this damn cold that's been goin' around."
"Yes, it could be," supposed the Professor. He glanced down and scribbled something onto the sheet of paper beneath the attendance sheet for the meeting, Rogue wasn't particularly sure what it was he wrote down. "Hank will see you first in the sickbay."
"Right now?" she asked, blinking.
"Yes. Of course, you can take a few moments to change your clothing, I'm sure you're eager to get out of your uniform..."
Rogue glanced down at her breastplate, there was still a little bit of vomit on it. "Yeah..."
"Go change," he smiled a little, "and see Hank."
Rogue headed for the door but she stopped herself. She wanted to ask about Remy, but instead, she forced herself to come up with something else, knowing the Professor was watching her, knowing he felt her hesitation in wanting to ask something. "Professor...it's going to come up clean, you know..."
"I know that, Rogue."
"Then...why the test?" she asked quietly.
"Sometimes, these things are necessary."
"Just because Ah threw up on the plane...it doesn't mean Ah took anythin'..." she spoke up. "Ah've never taken anythin', my whole life Ah've never had anythin' harder than a little booze...and it was legal where Ah was...Ah swear."
"I know. Believe me, just because this is happening now doesn't mean there's any mistrust being placed."
Plenty of mistrust goin' around, she thought coldly. It's just not for drugs.
"LeBeau."
Remy had barely gotten into the first step of the staircase in the foyer, he'd barely been home five minutes when he heard the command barked at him from down the hall. He recognised that voice anywhere. Logan.
"Oui?" he asked lightly, taking a breath and holding onto the newel post. He was feeling drained from his session with the psychiatrist. All he wanted to do was go upstairs, take a few swigs from the last of what was left in the cough bottle he had up there behind his dresser, and sleep.
"Where you been?"
"Does it matter?"
"You missed a meeting."
"Professor knew where I was," Remy replied quietly. He didn't feel like explaining to Logan right then where he'd been. Usually he'd had to have Logan take him there, and he didn't need Logan questioning it. "What meeting?" Remy turned and stared at Logan, the man looked slightly put out, more tired and less tolerant than he usually did (and that usually wasn't all that much as it was).
"Didn't you get the text?" Logan queried with a frown.
"No..." Remy reached for his phone but realised he didn't even have it in his pocket, he'd left it in his room plugged into the wall. He'd been so stressed by everything going on and by Rogue's dismissal that the only thing he could think of at that moment was going to the psychiatrist, to talk to someone who didn't have anything to do with home. All it had taken was one request to the Professor to set up a meeting, and the Professor had been kind enough not to ask questions, and had seemed strangely supportive of the idea, even encouraged by it. "Don' got it with me. Was it important?"
"Yeah," Logan nodded down the direction of the hallway, "Mansion has a new policy. Everyone is being made to take a drug test...today."
"Right now?" he asked. He winced. How likely was it that cough syrup was going to show up on a drug test? Did he have time to try and find some way to fake it?
"Hank will stand outside the bathroom while you pee into a cup."
"This ain' the usual way," Remy frowned, "Rogue tol' me it's usually random."
"Yeah, well, things change."
"Why?"
"Don't ask me," Logan snorted.
Remy's brain went into overdrive. Had Logan been in his room? Could he smell the cough syrup on him? He'd been so meticulous in trying to hide that smell with chewing gum all morning, he'd been drinking Cherry coke and sucking on candies that tasted and smelled like cough drops to try and mask it. He wasn't sure if it was working, Logan had said nothing, hadn't even detected it on him so far.
At least he'd never said anything to indicate he had.
"Let me jus' go change first," Remy said. He had to check, had to know if that cough bottle was still there, if it had been moved. If it had been, then he knew he'd been caught.
Relax, test might not pick up anythin'. Besides, y' can always give the excuse that y' still got the cough.
"You're fine as you are, come on, we got a lot to do today and you're holdin' us up," Logan warned.
Remy composed himself, "fine, let's do this."
Logan stopped him at the door, "I got to check you before you go in."
"For?"
"Professor's orders," Logan replied, "since everyone is getting tested, we have to be sure no one is smuggling anythin' in. Not that it matters, Hank's tests are pretty accurate...he said somethin' about epi-something-or-others that are shed when we piss, shows up in the test, he can match piss to pisser."
Guess no point in even thinkin' o' ways t' try and fake a sample, then, Remy realised.
Remy tried to hold himself still as Logan checked his pockets. He found nothing other than the Scott's car keys which Remy had inadvertently forgotten to leave in the garage.
"Scott know you drove his car?"
"No," Remy replied, "y' was all on a mission, didn' think he'd notice."
"Far as I know he hasn't," Logan pocketed the keys himself, "lets hope it stays that way, I don't need more drama..." he checked Remy's hips.
"Fuck sake," Remy smacked him away irritably, he didn't like the feeling of being touched up by the man. "Y' wan' go easy, y' gon' do that y' could at leas' buy me a fuckin' engagement ring first."
"Look, clam up, I don't like doin' this any more than you like gettin' it done," Logan muttered, he checked the pockets in Remy's cargo pants, "okay, you're good to go."
Remy snorted and shoved by the man to get into the sickbay.
Hank was sitting on one of the unmade beds within, he had an iPad which he was tapping away effortlessly, page upon page of information swept from one side to the other. He raised his eyes, "oh, Remy, there you are. Was wondering where you'd gotten to."
"I was out."
"The others made it back in time," Hank noted.
"I didn' have my phone wit' me, didn' get any messages. 'Sides, Prof knew where I was."
"Well, now that you're back, we'll get started," Hank put the iPad aside and stood up, "have the rules been explained?"
Remy folded his arms and tried to be as casual as he could, all the while his anxiety was beginning to rise. "Logan said everyone has t' take it today. What's goin' on? Someone smugglin' in weed?"
"Not to my knowledge," Hank replied, "I'd be rather surprised if anyone managed to do so with a human drug dog in the house."
"Suppose even a human drug dog ain' infallible," Remy supposed. He'd have had to be for it to have gone on for weeks without being picked up for having cough syrup after the cough had let up.
"We can't all be perfect all the time," Hank gave a toothy grin, "all right, well, I'm assuming Logan checked you at the door," he began.
"Yeah..." Remy replied irritably.
"Well," Hank picked up a small plastic cup with a lid from the table, "I'd like you to urinate into this, and hand it back to me immediately. You'll be going into the adjoining bathroom."
"Y' have t' have this right now?" Remy asked, glancing down at the cup in his hands.
"I'm afraid so."
"Not sure I got much in me," Remy fought showing any signs of fear at the thought of being caught. It wasn't that he cared about what the X-Men would think. It was that he cared about what his wife would think. He was terrified at the thought of her finding out about this. "I sorta took a leak outside after I had a coffee at the Starbucks in town."
Okay, it was only partially a lie. He had been to Starbucks, but only because he'd been avoiding coming home because he wasn't sure what kind of mood Rogue would be in when he returned. He still wanted to talk to her of course, despite her claim that they were through, but he was sure she definitely needed more time – and so did he – before that discussion was attempted again. She should have been back from her mission and had time to settle by now, with any luck. He'd been gone almost five hours, after all.
"I'm sure you can squeeze out a drop or two," Hank said kindly. Remy wondered if the many had any suspicion at all he may be responsible for missing cough syrup from the medical cabinet. He'd gone so far as to steal a box of replacement bottles from Baymart (it had been rather easy, thanks to lack of good security and a stoner security guard who had been outside the back of the store getting high) and he'd put them exactly where he'd taken the past bottles from, he was hoping to god Hank would never know.
God t' do what I got t' do, or I'd never get any sleep thanks t' Jean-Luc, Remy thought dully, he started talking towards the bathroom door, knowing there was no way of getting out of this. He paused, and glanced over his shoulder, "Rogue given hers yet?"
"Of course," Hank answered.
"She, uhm...seem okay?" he asked.
Hank paused, suddenly Remy felt himself being looked at with the strangest concern, "why wouldn't she be?"
"Just wonderin'. Haven't seen her at all t' day."
"I'm sure you can ask her yourself once we're done," Hank gestured towards the bathroom, "Please, we have to get through this, I have a lot of these tests to run and check today."
"Sorry," Remy grumbled, and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind himself. He stood silently, knowing that on the other side of the door, Hank was listening to him.
Fuck, he's listenin'...makin' sure I can't find a way t' fake this. How d' I do this? Remy stood glancing around the small bathroom, other than the sink, the toilet and the shower nozzle (which effectively turned the room into a wet room), there was no way to escape and no way to find a solution.
Making a point of loudly unzipping his pants, Remy made an awkward grunt a moment later, he called through the door, "it ain' no good, I ain' got any in me."
"Try running the water," Hank suggested from the other side.
I got the feelin' I ain' gettin' out of here until I got some pee in this cup, Remy realised in despair, he flipped the toilet lid and glanced down within to see if perhaps someone else might have forgotten to flush. He wasn't beyond scooping some out if it came to it. Unfortunately the water within was as clean as whistle...which was more than he could say for his own.
Don't matter...ain' no foolin' Hank either way, even if there was some in there he's gon' know it ain' my own.
Sighing, Remy turned on the cold faucet and let the water run, it definitely helped although that wasn't his real problem. The real problem was that he simply didn't want to give the sample.
Unhappily, he urinated into the cup, noting how it was slightly darker. The red colour (which Remy suspected was food dye of some sort) of the syrup had done that to his urine, he'd noticed it when he'd first started taking it, but it had never been much of a concern. Remy had never thought another drug test would be performed so soon, he'd assumed he was safe, had almost believed that because he was behaving and seeing a psychiatrist that he would never be questioned for such matters.
He spilled a little down the toilet and diluted the urine with some water, it didn't do much to help with the colour but it did look slightly cleaner. Sighing, putting the lid onto the cup, he placed it upon the cistern of the toilet and washed his hands, glancing at the sample that he couldn't help feel was about to wreck his life even further.
Tabitha hadn't done enough to wreck his marriage, now this...this was definitely going to make it worse.
How am I supposed t' explain t' Rogue that I need this stuff or I'd never sleep? That the bastard keeps me up all night wit' his complainin' and if it ain' that it's the nightmares 'bout him. She'd never believe me, she'd jus' think I've los' my mind, that I'm makin' excuses or...jus' tryin' t' get her sympathy...
Remy left the bathroom, gesturing over his shoulder, "I left it in there f' y'."
"I'll let you know the results when I have them," Hank replied, giving another smile, this time less believing than the first.
Don' bother, Remy thought. I already know what it's gon' be.
Sighing, he made his way to the foyer and started upstairs, finding that just as he got to the top, Tabitha was about to come down. She stopped dead at the sight of him and looked at him, he saw her face turn slightly pink, her eyes averted.
"Hi," she said quietly.
"Hi," he managed back, despite his immense anger with her at that moment. Through his mind the thought if it weren' for you, my wife wouldn' be mad at me right now slammed through him.
"You, uhm, hear about this...drug test thing?"
"Yeah," Remy responded, looking away from her.
"It's...so stupid. Like, the last time I took one, it showed that I had been smoking...and I got it so bad from the Professor. He cut my allowance because he said clearly if I could afford cigarettes, then maybe I was being given too much..."
Remy said nothing, just kept his eyes averted from her.
"Listen, Remy..." Tabitha said, "About the-"
"I don' wan' hear it," Remy said directly, holding up his hand, he forced himself to not look at her, he was afraid if he did he may start yelling and he didn't need everyone hearing that. "You made a mistake, it happens. People make mistakes. We move on."
"I wasn't making a mistake," Tabitha said, "but I think you are...I know you're not happy..."
"You don' know shit," Remy replied, he tried to walk away.
"I know you got my dad locked back up," she admitted after a moment.
Suddenly, Remy couldn't help himself from stopping and looking at her, how had she known? "Don' tell me y' went t' see that son of a bitch in prison."
"No," her cheeks flushed bright red, "My aunt called this morning...she...she got in touch...to bitch me out about it. She said I had you set him up...that you knocked him out and then called the cops tellin' them that he was a pervert watchin' kids on the school grounds while he was drinking..." Tabitha explained, "she was so mad at me...said she's disowning me. Everyone on my dad's side of the the family is..."
Remy snorted, "if they gon' side wit' him, maybe it's not much of a loss."
"I know you did it because you care, Remy," Tabitha said.
"Okay, y' know what, I ain' gon' deny it, okay? I did it!" Remy snapped. "I lost it. I knocked the bastard out, I called the cops. He was waitin' f' y' on school grounds. Wasn' the first time I'd seen that car there. I decided t' deal wit' what you weren' in a place t' deal wit' y' self," he admitted. "But it don' mean anythin'. All it means is that I took care o' a problem. That's it...it don' mean that I got feelin's...or that I want somethin' from y'."
"When I kissed you, you totally hesitated," Tabitha shook her head, "you wanted to kiss me back, I know it..."
"I was thrown, okay. I been havin' a tough time, and y' caught me at the wrong moment. When I opened the door I thought..." he stopped himself. He thought what? He'd thought it was going to be Rogue. He'd thought he was going to be chewed out for leaving the mansion and almost turning to drink.
"You thought...?"
"I thought it was going to be for friendship, I didn't think it was going to be that," he finally managed to lie.
"Why didn't you push me away right away?"
"Because I was shocked, that's it."
"You wanted it, don't tell me you didn't. I know guys and I know you wanted me..."
"I love my wife," he said quietly, "and right now...all y' doin' is causin' trouble and complicatin' it...I don' need this, I got enough t' deal wit'..."
"Tell me that you don't want me, Remy," Tabitha dared, "Just tell me right now..."
Remy looked at her, "I don't. I love my wife."
"Your wife who isn't even here. Your wife who wants nothing to do with you."
"My wife who held on t' my hand at my lowest point at Jean-Luc's funeral. My wife who stood by my side when I was bein' judged by my whole town. My wife who took care o' me when I was sick, who looked after me when I was drunk, my wife who makes me actually think o' a future that I never thought I'd ever want or have."
"The wife who's embarrassed to tell everyone she knows about you?" Tabitha asked, "that isn't a wife, it's a booty call."
"I've gave her plenty o' reasons lately t' have her doubts about tellin' people," Remy replied, looking straight at Tabitha. "Right now, y' jus' another reason she has t' doubt me."
"How could she even know?" Tabitha snorted.
"Go on, son, tell her how y' married that whore...see her face drop, hear her dismay and disgust at the thought of y' lowerin' y'self t' that kind o' miserable standard..."
"I tol' her."
Not quite the truth, Remy felt immediately disgusted with himself. He wanted to say it right then how he had married Rogue, how he loved her, and how Tabitha's interference was screwing it up, but something kept pinching his tongue when he tried. The same thing that kept pinching his tongue whenever he tried to tell Rogue about Jean-Luc still being there.
"And she's still going to stick by you? Go on with this ridiculous-" Tabitha spat, she was interrupted by a voice coming from downstairs.
"Tabitha!"
Tabitha immediately clammed up and glanced downstairs, Logan was at the bottom of the staircase, his face dark, his voice had been almost angry when he'd called her name.
"You're up next."
Tabitha met Remy's eyes for a moment, frowning. "You'll get it one day, Remy."
"Go to the sickbay," Logan told Tabitha as she waltzed casually down the steps. Remy felt Logan's eyes on him, knowing the man had probably heard every word.
Good, Remy thought as he made his way to his bedroom. Least he can vouch f' me if Tabitha tries t' use this conversation or what happened t' bite me in the ass. Logan don' lie f' no one, leas' of all me.
The bottle in Remy's room had remained untouched as far as Remy could tell, but he still wasn't sure it meant anything in the way of suspicion. He'd been waiting for hours now knowing that the results of that test were going to come out sooner or later, and that when they did, he was going to be dragged over the coals.
This night, he decided to not take the cough syrup. It would have been wise to get rid of it entirely, there was only a few swigs left in the bottle, it would have been enough to put him out but he decided instead to leave it.
Instead, he put in his earbuds and tried to drown out the sound of Jean-Luc's constant berating and the thought that when he did eventually fall asleep, it would be nightmares that awakened him. He'd almost been on the verge of falling asleep when he received the text message from Hank that he should go down to Hank's small personal laboratory that was adjacent to the sickbay.
This is it, Remy thought. He knew what was coming, he'd been waiting for it since the moment Logan had told him about the test.
"Y' gon' get it now," Jean-Luc sing-songed at Remy's back as Remy made his way downstairs. "Y' gon' get kicked out f' bein' a junkie, jus' like y' sorry excuse f' a brother."
"Shouldn' you be dancin' in the music video f' Thriller?" Remy asked coldly, trying to ignore the threat of being kicked from the mansion. He tried to rehearse in his head how he was going to respond to the accusations that were going to come.
"Make jokes all y' like, but y' know when it comes down t' it, jokes aren' gon' save y' from what's comin'."
Remy was surprised that Logan wasn't even outside of the sickbay, he'd half expected the man to be waiting there. Remy passed the door, glancing inside the empty room, no one was inside, he'd half expected someone to be there, half expected drug testing to be still going on.
Hank was inside the small laboratory, and Remy poked his head through the open door first and glanced around, trying to hide his nerves. Hank was sitting at a desk, looking at his iPad again, his expression full of preoccupation, his brow furrowed a little.
"Y' wanted t' see me?" Remy asked.
"Ah, yes," Hank put the iPad aside. "I thought we should discuss the results of your test."
"This soon?" Remy asked. "Thought these kind o' things usually take a few days or somethin'."
"Oh no, these tests are rather easily done in an hour or so in this day and age," Hank clicked something on the computer at the desk and gestured to the 32 inch plasma screen television mounted on the back wall, "here we go."
Remy gazed at the test; for the most part the numbers and symbols made no sense to him whatsoever. Chemical names were all Greek to him. But he did recognise one particular word.
Opiate.
"I'm...assuming this isn't the result you were hoping to get," Hank said, sounding rather restrained.
"I...don' know what I'm lookin' at," Remy lied.
"Well, you see this here..." Hank picked up a pencil and tapped it against the screen, "shows a certain concentration of opiates in your system. It's not excessively high, not the kind of dosage I'd expect to find in something such as, perhaps a few good doses of Vicodin..." he reeled off, "But if you add these two things here that were also found in the test..." he noted, "are the main ingredients..." Hank took something from the pocket of his white lab coat, "in this."
Remy stared at the bottle of cough syrup in Hank's hands. His heart sank a little.
"I don' understand," Remy shrugged, "unless that's from that cough I had like weeks ago...I'm better now."
"Yes, but you see, if you were better now, then the cough syrup ingredients wouldn't be showing this strongly in urine this fresh," Hank noted. "I think you have some explaining to do."
"Nope...I think there's been some kind o' mistake here, Hank," Remy lied.
Hank smirked a little and shook his head, but Remy could tell he was neither amused nor impressed by the attempt to lie about it, "it's disappointing that you're standing there pretending to be stupid, Remy," he admitted. "Because someone who takes at least ten bottles of cough syrup from my inventory and replaces them with items bought from the local Baymart...and manages to do so without getting caught and without even leaving any trace is anything but stupid."
Remy looked away, shrugging, "don't know what y' talkin' about."
"Oh, I think you do," Hank turned around the cough syrup bottle in his hands, "You see, each bottle has a unique serial number which I scan into our system, so I can keep track of such things. And strangely enough when I was taking inventory this morning, ten serial numbers had miraculously changed. I hacked into the database of some local suppliers, and wouldn't you know, Baymart is missing eighteen bottles."
"Weird," was all Remy could say.
"I think perhaps we should cut the act right now, Remy," Hank sighed, "I'd like an explanation."
"What explanation do y' need? I had a cough. Clearly it's workin', 'cause y' can tell I ain' coughin' now."
"That cough went away a while ago. Yet you're still using it. I don't understand why, because other than the drowsiness, this can't be doing much for you in the way of recreational highs."
Remy looked away but gave no explanation. Hank had hit the nail on the head, a lot of it had to do with the drowsiness, the way it seemed to slightly dull Jean-Luc, quieten his voice a little. Not that it always worked. Sometimes regardless of how much of the stuff he took, the bastard still managed to be heard and keep him awake.
"You've been covering the smell by sucking on cough drops...all kinds of candies that smell like the syrup - a rather excessive amount of them. I mean...the readings in your urine were almost close to diabetic! Remy, you know I have to report this to the Professor."
"Maybe y' do some favours for him, he let y' stay here in this worthless place...maybe y' help him out, he help you out," Jean-Luc chuckled. "He mus' be lonely down here on his own all the time, havin' t' hide away in here 'cause o' lookin' like that. And you got such a pretty mouth...y' coul' help while that away, couldn' y'?"
"So report it," Remy frowned a little.
"I wanted to at least give you the chance to explain before I did," Hank explained, "but you've done very little to do so."
"I did explain. I had a cough, I took some syrup. It helped the cough, it helped me sleep. What more y' need?" Remy asked, his anger beginning to pierce through his veil of calm.
"He's gon' ask y' how much y' wan' keep this quiet, what he means when he's givin' y' a chance t' explain is he's givin' y' the chance t' offer a bribe in exchange f' his silence. Y' ain' stupid, Remy. Y' know what he wants..."
"Y' know what, go on and report it if y' like, I'm done wit' this place anyway. Y' all tellin' me what t' do all the time and how t' live...all of y'...nothin' but fuckin' trouble and complications and I don' need any of it!" Remy tried to ignore Jean-Luc and his disgusting jibes.
"Has something happened? You were doing so well, your first test results when you arrived here were superb other than a little alcohol and nicotine...I don't understand why now you've turned to this..."
"It's cough syrup," Remy snorted, "It ain' heroin."
"It's still an opiate, Remy," Hank retorted.
"Y' brother's favourite thing," Jean-Luc laughed.
"Opiates are not something to be playing around with, there's a high addiction risk whenever you use opiates. A little cough syrup now can lead to a lot of complication later."
"Y' brother used t' drink that stuff and then smoke a fatty...said it used t' get him good and baked," Jean-Luc chuckled.
"Whatever," Remy muttered.
"Whether you think it's all that serious or not, it's also still theft, and that is also a very serious crime in this house," Hank replied, "I still have to report it."
"How many o' them y' think y' gon' have t' fuck 'fore y' gon' be allowed t' stay?" wondered Jean-Luc aloud.
"SHUT UP!" Remy burst, he put a hand to his head, "Y' all just shut up!"
Hank blinked, "Pardon?"
"All y' keep goin' on! I can't keep up! I don' know up from down! Y' all just need t' shut the fuck up! Leave me be!"
"Remy-" Hank reached towards him, his expression full of concern.
"Don't!" Remy swatted him away; much to the surprise of both men, the 32 inch wall mounted television that Hank had been using to display the results of the drug test suddenly smashed, cracks appeared across the glass, the picture disappeared.
Hank moved to the television, "Oh my..."
Remy drew a shaky breath, "I didn' do that..."
The beast gently touched the screen, the cracks spider-webbing outwards from the centre of the screen as if something had punched it. "There was impact..." he turned and looked around the room helplessly, "Remy...how-"
"I didn' do that!" Remy yelled. "He did it!"
"Remy-"
"He did it!" Remy swept the contents of the desk towards the ghostly image of a zombie Jean-Luc, "He did it! He did it!" he grabbed the LED monitor from the desk, yanked the plug out of the wall and threw it towards the ghost, simply watched it sail through him and smash at the other side of the room.
"Remy, calm down!" Hank tried to get to him, Remy acted on instinct, he struck out, fist connecting with Hank's face, he saw the blood pour from the beast's nose, he felt the pain carry up his fist and wrist and he gasped a little.
Hank pressed a hand against his face, looking quite struck by this response, he hadn't expected violence, Remy hadn't expected to need to resort to it.
"He's tryin' t' take everythin from me! Jus' like he always has!" Remy tried to find something to fight the ghost with, the only thing he saw was a letter opener from the desk, and he made a grab for it. Hank grabbed his wrist, his large hand could have circled Remy's hand numerous times, Remy struggled with it.
"Drop it!"
"I need t' make him stop!" Remy cried.
"You'll hurt yourself!"
"Y' don' understand!"
Remy felt something grab him from behind, he gasped, he heard Logan's voice at his ear.
"Calm down!"
Jean-Luc shifted to the corner, "Y' see...they all think y' crazy. They all know y' crazy!"
"Y' all out t' get me, y' all been from the start! Y' lettin' him do this!"
"Hank, do somethin', will you?!" Logan gasped, Remy felt his struggle to hold on.
"Hold on," Hank began searching anxiously through a set of many keys.
"Come on!"
Remy battled violently, the pressure of Logan's hold was hard and painful, and the thought of his body pressed against his own was too much to bear. "Let me go!"
"Y' like it, don' y'? The roughness, the determination," Jean-Luc chuckled. "Go on, Claws, he always liked t' be pinned."
"Hank! Hurry!" Logan grunted.
Remy got his legs up and kicked towards the desk, pushing himself backwards and Logan into the wall behind them. Logan's grip was too strong for the release but he felt it loosen only slightly. Somehow, Remy managed to twist himself around and slammed the side of his head against Logan's nose, he heard a yelp of pain but he couldn't be sure if it was his or Logan's, the flash of pain that hit his own head was excruciating. He'd forgotten about the Adamantium lacing the older man's skull.
"Hank!"
"This is it, Remy, y' got their attention now, y' gon' be theirs. This gon' be fun...think I may jus' stay and watch."
"Got it!" Hank unlocked a small cabinet in the desk and grabbed out a small kit, Remy was lost in a flurry of trying to fight for his life, his panic levels rising by the second.
"Y' gon' get bent over that desk and held there t' they both done," Jean-Luc smirked. "Feel how strong he is? How determined? Y' know how much he's been waitin' f' this opportunity,"
Remy suddenly realised he still had the letter opener clutched in his hand, in the chaos it still hadn't even been pried from his fingers. Twisting awkwardly, Remy managed to swing his arm and hand over his right shoulder and behind him towards Logan, he felt it collide with his flesh judder against something hard, he wasn't sure where he'd stabbed the man and Logan didn't make so much as a whimper.
"That's it, son, twist the knife, make him bleed..." Jean-Luc cheered on.
Remy twisted the letter opener as hard as he could and pulled, he heard Logan grunting at the pain, felt the grip on him tighten, it was getting hard to breathe, hard to think. His hand slipped on the letter opener, slick with blood, he lost his grip on the handle. Logan's grip shifted, he couldn't get back to the thing, couldn't defend himself any more.
"Think if y' cut his dick off he'd grow it back?" Jean-Luc pondered.
Hank pulled on the waistband of his pants, panic burst through Remy's thoughts. He yelled out, not even sure what he was yelling. His heart thudded at the threat and he instinctively kicked towards Hank, the beast was far too strong to be knocked over. Remy locked his foot into Hank's shoulder and tried to desperately push him away.
"No!" Remy yelled, "Y' ain' gon' do this!"
Hank awkwardly tried to push Remy's leg out of the way, "stop!"
Remy tried to kick, the beast caught his leg, Remy saw a hypodermic needle grasped between the beast's brilliant white teeth. What was that? What were they going to do to him? They were going to drug him, he'd be unable to move but able to feel everything.
"Get that thing away from me!" Remy screamed as he saw Hank bite the cap off and move it near his exposed him.
The lights in the room flickered, Jean-Luc laughed in an almost hysterical way that left Remy's blood cold. Remy kicked Hank's hand, the needle flew from his grasp.
"Remy!" Hank gasped, "we're not trying to hurt you!"
"They all say that, don' they?!" Remy screamed.
"Yeah...I used t' say that too, didn' I? Y' didn' used t' believe me then, either, did y'?" Jean-Luc chuckled.
Hank chased the hypodermic while Logan struggled to try and hold Remy still.
"Why would we hurt you?!" Logan demanded. "We're here to help you!"
"No one gon' do that t' me again, I'd die 'fore I let them!" Remy warned.
"Got it," Hank announced.
"Hurry up!" Logan barked; Remy felt himself being twisted and pinned to the wall, he tried to get out but Logan's bones made him far too impossible to shift with the usual self-defence manoeuvres; then something stabbed him in the back of his hip and he gasped; there was a feeling of strange heaviness loading him like tar, pulling him to the ground as if he were magnetic, Logan was still gripping him, letting him down gently.
"Glad to know you're prepared for a crisis, Hank," Logan muttered.
"It caught me by surprise," Hank said, his voice a little muffled by what sounded to be Hank holding something against his face.
"What the hell happened?!" Logan demanded, Remy glanced up from where he was on the floor, seeing Logan yanking the letter opener from his shoulder, Remy saw the blood spurting out a little. Logan grabbed a nearby cloth and pushed it against the wound, grunting a little at the pain.
"He began to get violent...he punched me...his results-"
"Let me guess, it was him with the syrup..." Logan grunted.
"Yes, but I didn't expect-"
"We should have known, we should have expected this kind of response," Logan growled. "I knew he was hidin' something. The candies and the cough drops should have been the tip off, Hank. I told you last week."
"You said it yourself, the others had been eating them too - everyone smelled of those candies, it could have been anyone. We couldn't make any accusations...we had to be sure."
Remy somehow managed to pull himself into a sitting position against the wall, his head slumped forward, he hadn't the strength to even hold it up anymore. "Wha' y' d' t' me..." he struggled to ask, he couldn't even look up enough to see what was going on.
"It's just a sedative...it'll wear off..." Hank replied, sounding pained.
"Is your nose okay?" Logan asked.
"I don't think it's broken," Hank managed, "Just bleeding. Let me see that puncture wound..."
"It's fine, it's already healing..." Logan assured. "What happened to the screen? He do that?"
"That's...inconclusive," Hank said after a moment, sounding perplexed. "Take him to the sickbay and lay him down..."
"Sickbay?" Logan asked in a snort, "after that? You think that's wise."
"He's sedated, he's going to be weak for hours."
"After what I just saw, the only place he's going is the brig."
"The brig?" Hank admonished. "That's...somewhat extreme."
"He had a knife, Hank. A knife."
"It was a letter opener," Hank replied, "and...he wouldn't have done much damage with it, it's not sharp."
"It's sharp enough to stab with, and you could have been on the end of it. Lets not forget, Hank, I can heal, but you can't," Logan retorted, he picked Remy up almost effortlessly, "come on, Gumbo. You got a date with a lonely little prison cell."
End of Part Thirty-One
Last update for the weekend. A few interesting theories being mentioned in reviews. LOL. Thanks as always for sending them in. Sure there'll be some interesting thoughts about the drug tests. Especially about Remy's reaction to the drug test (a little shocking and slightly extreme I suppose - mostly from Hank's side, haha). Aaaaaaanyway...I'm off to drag myself to the kitchen to make dinner, then early night to sleep the flu off. As always, have a good weekend.