Remy was shaken, but kind of intrigued. "We friends, chere? Bien, I can live wit' dat. I jus' startin' to realize dat I need friends. But one small t'ing, petite. I be Cajun, not French."

Cajun. Hmm...so maybe her karma wasn't as great as she'd thought, but that accent was still tripping her interest meter.

"Don' quite know how to deal wit' dis, chere. Didn' expect it. If you a telepath, how come you not talkin' to me before?"

**Well, nosy, mostly because I'm not a whatchadoohicky...telepath. They can read minds, right? I can't. Not that I'd want to wallow in the garbage that seems to be in most people's minds anyway. I haven't the foggiest why I seem to be able to talk to you.** Dakota gave in to her curiosity. **What's my voice sound like?**

"Sounds like a girl, petite. What do you mean, what's it sound like? Sounds like you was talkin' in my head."

**Doofus. You know, I like you, but we really do need to work on you a b! it. I don't ask dumb questions. Well let me rephrase that a bit. I don't ask any questions. See a silver bracelet they probably hung from my chart?**

"Yeah, chere. I know it's there." His voice had gone from confused to flatly resigned.

**What'd I say?** She knew she'd stumbled on a nerve, but couldn't figure what.

"Nothin', chere. You need this bracelet for some t'ing?"

**I thought I'd decorate for my funeral. Sheesh. Some peoples children. Read it, silly.**

"Non. Chere...I....non." Remy tried to stumble into an explanation, but he didn't need pity. He didn't want pity. He most definitely didn't need or want her pity.

Remy was reevaluating for all he was worth. He'd felt sorry for her, so he thought he'd talk to her. She didn't seem to have anyone, and dying alone was something he was learning he'd probably do as well. It frightened him. If he could give this to her, maybe someone else would do the same for him.

She wasn't supposed to actually hear him. Well okay...she was supposed to be comforted in some nicely foggy way, and die in peace. This was not the way it was supposed to happen. She was two point one steps away from feeling sorry for him, and that was a pit he'd just crawled out of. No way was anyone going to put him down there again.

"Not goin' to do dis, homme. Non. Won' let you do dis, " he all but growled.

Dakota panicked. He wasn't going to leave her here, was he? She'd made him angry. Oh god, what had she done? She knew better than to talk to anyone, didn't she? She knew that talking made people leave h er. Stupid! How could she be so dumb? **Please don't go. I'll be quiet. Please? I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything, please?** She knew she was babbling, but she just couldn't be alone again.

Remy was instantly ashamed of himself. "Non, chere. Non..shhhhh, I'm de one who's sorry. Didn' mean to get angry at you. I'm de one I'm angry at. I...got some problems I'm working out, an' I snapped at you when you got too close. I'm sorry."

Dakota didn't say anything. She didn't want him to go away, and she was so scared that he would anyway. She all but held her breath, waiting for him to speak.

"Please petite. I t'ought we were friends. I need a friend, neh?" Remy knew, although he didn't understand why, it was important that she forgive him. Like Chat, she hadn't asked him if he wanted to care for her, she just moved in and took residence in his heart. All that sarcasm. It reminded him of himself, and the way he used it to deflect attention fr! om t he real person inside.

Her continued silence tore at him. "Chere, don' leave me out here all alone. I don' know how to be alone anymore. Been learnin' all kinds of lessons dis past year or so, but de first one I learned is dat you can be anybody you want to be, so long as someone believes in you. It's when no one believes in you dat you become nobody. I been nobody for too long, chere."

She was making him apologize for her shortcomings, she realized. That was entirely unfair. He was blaming himself, she was blaming herself, and both of them were unhappy with the situation. The difference was, he was trying.

**Remy, I'm sorry.** It was a quiet whisper of a thought, but it reassured him that she was still with him.

"Non. No more sorry." Remy hesitated, almost fearing to ask his next questions. "Chere, how much dey tell you, here?"

Temporarily, she ignored his question. She was still subdued, not wanting to upset him again. **Remy! ? Can I ask you something, please?**

"Anyt'ing, petite . Don' promise I can answer, but I try, neh? But I need somet'ing from you first. Well, two t'ings. First, your name. Don' use names much, but I wan' to know who dat person was who was talkin' to me earlier."

**Going schizo on me Remy?** She was aghast. Hadn't she just told herself to play it cool? Her smartmouthing him was going to make him leave! **I'm sorry. I didn't meant to get sarcastic. My name is Dakota.**

Remy was amused. "T'ink I like sarcastic better." He grew serious again. "Meek don' suit you, chere. An' dat's de second t'ing I need from you chere. I need you to be you."

She was relieved, and so happy she felt giddy. **Actually, I like being Cindy Crawford much better.**

"Cindy Crawford not why I still be sittin' here, chere. Dakota. Interesting name, petite. Nort' or Sout'?"

**Truck. And to answer your question that you're being oh, so careful not to repeat for fear of upsetting me, yes, I know that I'm goi! ng to die. I'm also kind of curious why I haven't done it so far. Death's door is open, and it's letting in a draft.**

"Maybe it's 'cause I don't want you to go, petite. I came in here because somet'ing was pullin' at me, an' I couldn' jus' walk by. When doc said you didn' have nobody, an' he didn' t'ink you were goin' to make it, I jus couldn' leave you to be alone. 'Cause I know how dat feels, chere. Don' ever wan' to have someone else feel it because I allowed it."

"I like you chere. We're friends, d'accord? All dem stories I was telling you, even 'bout Stormy, not one of dem had a frien' in it, 'cause I don' have any but Chat. He's a new frien', and now I know why frien's are so valuable. You probl'y have lots of friends, so one more don' matter, but I can' lose one just because she was in de wrong place at de wrong time. Le bon Dieu would be playin' one too many tricks on me."

**Silly Cajun, tricks are for kids. Besides, it's not like I have mu! ch of a choice, here Remy.**

**Remy...when I first hear d you, I was angry. Here was Prince Charming, and Sleeping Beauty didn't exist. I'm going to get all maudlin and sappy here for a minute, but I figure you need to hear this. If I had much of a heart left to give, it'd be yours for no other reason then caring about me when noone else does. It's a good thing I'm not going to be around for long, because that's not a very healthy way to live. Oh, it sounds great in all the books, but I can't see you needing me forever. Nor can I see me being grateful to you forever. For now, we can be friends, but it can't be forever, Remy. No matter how bad I might want it. You have a life away from this hospital, and I don't. Not anymore.**

**Besides, you were right. And wrong. I know lots of people, and I couldn't possibly know any more until one of them dies, or something. But I don't have friends, either. That's a pretty odd word, when you think about it, isn't it?**

"How do you mean, chere?" Remy was in awe of th! e wa y this little imp's mind was working.

**Well, it's a noun, used to describe a feeling. A friend isn't a thing. It's a feeling in your heart when you see someone. Yeah, okay, so I'm not an English major. Actually, I almost flunked English in school. I should have been born German or something. Then I could have flunked in a foreign language, and had it sound much better.**

Remy laughed out loud at that. "Chere, you be priceless."

A nurse passing by poked her head in the door at the sound of merriment. She looked confused, then alarmed and looked away rather than see Remy's face again. "Sorry....thought I heard....well, I have thing to do. Sorry." She quickly closed the door.

**Poor thing probably thinks you've been sniffing the happy gas they must have around here somewhere, Remy. If I saw someone laughing at a comatose body, I'd probably call the funny farm myself.**

"Dat's not why she left, chere" Remy's voice had gone lifeles! s again. For a while, he'd forgotten how the world saw him. And how it made him feel dead inside. He'd been riding an emotional high since yesterday. First Chat wormed his way into his life, and made him look forward to the next day. Then he'd seem to have been regaining some control over his shielding, and he hadn't felt a twinge all day. He'd actually laughed today, and for a moment felt every bit as cocky as he'd used to. And his new friend, Dakota, had enabled him to escape his physical limitations for an entire afternoon. But the look in the nurse's eyes the first time she'd seen him had brought it all crashing back down. All the worse for his brief period of freedom. **She mus' be new here. Thought everyone 'round here'd seen the freak.**

**Talk to me Remy. Why do you sound like you just found out you're going to prison for life?**

"Good way to put it chere. 'Cept the prison is me."

**I'm not going anywhere, oh mighty Cajun one, and you're beating yourself up about something. So have a Scooby-snac! k, a nd tell your best buddy Dakota all about how you screwed up in a royal way and everyone hates you now.**

Remy looked ruefully amused. "Chere, I'd love to be able to give you a hug."

**Don't go there, Remy. I'm only 2 steps from getting your shirt all soggy anyway. Besides, you'd probably set off fourteen different alarms, and give me high blood pressure. You wouldn't want all that on your conscience, would you?**

"You're right, petite. I got too much dere now."

**You are getting very sleepy. Verrrry sleeeepy. You are now going to quit stalling and get to the juicy stuff, buddy.**

Remy chuckled. "You good for me, chere. So, you want the abridged or full lengt' version of de life of one Remy LeBeau, former child prodigy?"

**I want the truth. I can handle the truth. God, I loved that movie. Anyways, what I want is for you to let me give you this gift, Remy. Let the poison go. You gave me something noone else ever has. You'r! e the first person to hear me since I was five. You gave me c ompassion. Let me give you this much. Let my life, well, death anyway, mean something. Let me have done something I can feel good about.**

Remy blew out a sigh. His hand was trembling as he reached for hers. "Chere, I'm goin' to take hold of your hand. Don' be frightened." Slowly, he forced the stiff and awkward appendage to cradle her cut and bruised hand.

Dakota stayed still, knowing any reaction from her could send him bolting, he sounded that nervous.

"Dakota...you even awake? Can you feel dis?" **Or do I so badly need to touch someone dat I'm hallucinating de whole t'ing?**

**I'm awake, Remy. I feel you, but it's a foggy kind of feeling. I suspect they've got me doped to the gills. I was thinking I could totally freak out the doctors by opening my eyes on the examination table, but figured that would be kind of tacky.**

"Do me a favor, chere. If you open your eyes, don' scream, okay?"

**Why? You gonna yell boo or som! ethi ng?**

Remy searched for words and came up empty. He felt a little silly for believing Dakota could kiss the hurt and make it all better, but his emotions had been on a seesaw this last few minutes, and he was vulnerable.

**Would it make it easier on you if I just chattered a bit?** Dakota felt waves of something practically rolling off her friend, and she wanted to give him a bit of time to compose himself

"Dieu. Didn' t'ink it would be dis hard, chere. Tell me 'bout you, petite." Remy's gaze was focused on her hand, where it lay curled trustingly in his deformed one.

**Grim story. Got your blankie? Well, you asked, you shall receive. Born approximately 27 years and some odd days ago to a couple of people I shall euphemistically call mom and dad. Mom died shortly thereafter. I don't remember her at all. But if she were still alive, I'd have long ago killed her myself for leaving me with a monster like my father. Ooooh. That was bad. ! Well, what are they gonna do; make me do the filing at the DMV ?**

**Anyways, back to the monster. Trust me, Dr. Frankenstein had nothing on this guy. This was one seriously deranged dude. As a little side note here, you really are the only one who can hear me, such as it is. I quit talking when I was five. I was sort of screaming, and couldn't stop, so he taped my mouth shut for 3 days.**

**I never went to school. Somehow, I totally slipped through the cracks. Noone even knew my father had a child until one day when I was 17, he unlocked my room and told me to put on a dress. He said he was getting married again, and didn't see how he could avoid telling his new wife about me. So, I was brought out like a dutiful little pet, and everyone said wasn't it so sad that the poor thing had to be kept on medication to keep from hurting herself.**

**But I had books, Remy. All the books I'd ever want. I learned everything from them, including how to escape. So, I was 19, and on my own for the first time. My "paren! ts" made a fuss to the papers about how ungrateful I was, and I shouldn't ever come back. Truthfully, I should think they'd have been scared spitless about me coming back and blowing all their stories sky-high.**

**I had no skills, and no money to acquire any, but I managed to land a job washing dishes at a local restaurant, and for the first time, I was actually proud of myself. I'd accomplished something I never had before, simply by standing on my own two feet.**

**Have I made your ears numb yet?**

Remy was abashed, and felt humbled. This lady had guts, determination, and survival instincts that equaled and surpassed his own.

He took a deep breath and began. "Few years back, I hooked up wit' a bunch of people who convinced demselves dey could make de world a better place. Didn' believe dem, but I liked myself better for helping dem. Up til den, I was a t'ief. A good one, maybe de best, but still a t'ief. Dere are some t'ings I did during da! t time I can' tell you 'bout, chere. Don' t'ink I ever can. Mos'ly don' t'ink about dem. Dey in de past, and dey gonna stay dere."

"I met dem people because of Stormy. Tol' you 'bout her, didn' I? Well, me'n Stormy went wit' dem, and I met ...Rogue." Her name word still had to be forced out. "T'ink I, non, I know I fell in love wit' her de minute I saw her. Don' know why. She's stubborn as a bayou gator, and twice as t'oughtless. Didn' trust nobody, didn' need nobody, least of all me. But I loved her, and Dieu, how I wanted her."

Dakota's heart was breaking as she heard the heartache in his voice. It broke again because there was nothing she could do to help ease it.

"Bout a year and a half ago, somet'ing happen, an' she foun' out about a part of my past. One of dem dat I don' never tell nobody." Remy stopped for a minute, to regain a bit of control. "She ran, but she made sure I knew what she thought of me 'fore she left." Remy drew a ragged breath. "I have dis...ability...to sometimes tell what oth! er p eople be feelin'. Mos' times, it don' bother me 'cause I don' use it. I started losin' control of it around then, so I knew what she was feelin' when she ran away from me. An' it was jus' like I was 16 again, and Poppa was sayin' how proud he was of me for followin' his footsteps in de T'ieves Guild, and all de time he was feelin' scared of me, and disgusted at de freak he'd brought into his home. People sayin' one t'ing, and feelin' somet'ing else."

"Dat was a rough time, chere. Rogue left de group, an' I was to blame. De others, dey don' know what I did to make her leave, but dey know I was de reason why. Dere was not'ing I could do to fix de situation, an' I was makin' it worse by stayin'. Figured if I left, she could come back. Dey were her family, not mine, and I was de one keepin' her away. So I disappeared. Wandered 'round for a while, den came here."

"Las' year, I got caught in a fire. An....I got some problems 'cause of it. Dere no way I can! lead a normal life. Just' be gettin' de hang of t'ings, agai n. Den you come along and jumbled it all up 'gain. Don' know what to make of you, petite. Don' know where you fit in to dis new life I got. But I do know dat you not goin' to leave me to figure all dis out by myself. Dere ain' no way I'm goin' to let you leave me on my own."

**Baby...you're right. You do need someone. But it can't be me. I'd love to be your someone. In spite of all this garbage, I think I love you. But pay attention here, lover. I'm dying. Irreversible conclusion, there. You have problems, yes. And we're going to find a way to fix them, but you are going to be doing it on your own.**

Remy's head bowed. He touched his forehead to the back of her hand. "Chere, don' t'ink I can. I gave all I had, and it didn' come close to being enough." He thought back to that first walk home from the hospital. "Chere, I frighten people. Dere ain' no two ways about it. Jus' can' go back to de team. Dey don' want me, and I got no! pla ce there. I got no family dat would be happy to see me. Dere not anybody on dis earth who'd miss me if I left. I got Chat, t'ough. Don' deserve him, but he don' care what I look like. He likes me, petite, but I got no purpose. No reason to fix t'ings. An' if you go, dat's one less t'ing dat keeps me here, neh?"