Title: The eyes of a child

Author: Morgana (morganalebeau@yahoo.com)

Website: http://www.oocities.org/morganalebeau/

Rating: NC-17

Pairing/main characters: Gambit, Jean-Luc LeBeau

Series/Sequel: followed by Shadows

Summary: Remy is living on the streets of New Orleans until he meets Jean-Luc LeBeau and his life changes drastically.

Disclaimer: Marvel's...

Date: Jan 2002

Warning: Please read this warning carefully and then decide whether or not to read "Eyes of a child".
In this story I describe Remy's childhood in an Alternate Universe. Remy escapes from the Antiquary, but ends up on the streets of New Orleans where he has to survive on his own. He doesn't have any real friends and is forced to sell his body to stay alive. Remy is a nine year hustler in this story and the sexual acts are described in a graphic manner. There is even one scene in which Remy faces rape.
If you don't like to read these kind of stories go back and chose another story or go to another site. Please do not write me, telling me I've got a sick mind.
This is fanfiction and like all my other stories this one will have a happy end.

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The eyes of a child - Prologue

By Morgana

 

1976, New Orleans

"I succeeded at last!" The doctor's triumphant cry echoed through the room, overpowering everything, even the newborn's frightened cries and sobs. Roughly, he pushed the baby's eyelids further apart and grinned. "Red on black..."

"Please... doctor... Doctor Essex, please give me my child!" Exhausted, the mother tried to struggle upright, but she was bleeding internally, slowly bleeding to death. The need to hold her baby overwhelmed her and she didn't even wonder why her doctor wasn't taking care of her.

"He's mine now," Essex spat, impatiently. "I have no more need for you." While holding the baby in his left hand, he placed his right on her throat and his fingers began to squeeze the life out of her. "Puny humans... you die so easily."

While watching the life flee her body, he rocked the baby, trying to calm him down. The baby's screams would surely attract unwanted attention. "You belong to me," he whispered, cocking his head to study the baby. The mother's chest rose one more time, then collapsed in death. "You're mine."

"Doctor Essex?" Several voices sounded from the other side of the door and Essex acted quickly. He placed the baby on the bed next to his mother and pretended to be performing CPR when the medical team crashed into the room.

"It's too late. She's dead, but the baby seems healthy." Essex quickly cradled the baby in his arms. "You take care of her remains and I'll run some tests on the baby to make sure there are no complications." Ignoring the medical staff, he left the room, carrying the baby with him.

His eyes flashed red, briefly, then turned human again. Soon, soon the baby would be in his laboratory and he could conduct every experiment he'd ever wanted to!

The baby cried again and tears dripped down his face as if mourning his mother's death.

///

"We must carry out de Antiquary's orders, Jean-Luc. If he wants de chile, let him have it! It's an abomination!"

Jean-Luc felt used and angry. The Antiquary had miraculously appeared in his home and demanded he steal a child and bring the baby to him. The Antiquary had even given him the address and the room number!

"Somet'in' feels wrong, Etienne. It feels wrong to condemn anot'er chile to de Velvet Ministry. We don' know what he does to dem, mais..." He had visited the Antiquary's home a few times and the children there had reminded him of the living dead. Their eyes were vacant and their voices flat.

"He protects de T'ieves Guild, Jean-Luc! Wit'out him, de Assassins would have seized control a long time ago. We need him!" Etienne followed Jean-Luc, as the master thief led him through the hospital corridors. "De chile ain' even human!"

Jean-Luc cursed privately. The Antiquary had told them that the baby had red on black eyes and that it was the Devil's mark on him so the old man wanted the child for his collection. "Etienne, he's only a bébé! What 'bout de mère?"

"Dat ain' our problem, Jean-Luc." Etienne halted in front of room 414. "Dis is it. De chile should be in here."

Jean-Luc opened the door and soundlessly slipped inside. Looking at the crib, he saw a small baby, far too small and he pushed back part of the blanket to reveal the baby's face. A divine smile greeted him and then the large eyes opened. He'd always been a sucker for big baby eyes, except... these were red on black. "Mon Dieu, it's true."

Looking closer he saw tear tracks down the baby's face. "He's been cryin'." Unable to control his instincts, he reached out and touched the baby's face, caressing it gently. Picking him up, he cradled the boy against his chest, rocking it.

"Jean-Luc, we need to leave! I hear footsteps closin' in on us." Etienne opened the window, swung a rope to the opposite roof and returned to Jean-Luc. "We got to go... now!"

"De Devil's eyes and an angel's smile... Etienne, we can' give him to de Antiquary!"

"We must!" Etienne pushed his friend toward the window. "Hurry!"

Jean-Luc looked back at the crib, and wished he could put the baby back. "He should be wit' his mère..." But Etienne jolted him into action and he followed his fellow thief to the opposite roof.

The baby began to cry softly and the tiny hands blindly reached for him. Jean-Luc fought back a tear. How can I justify handin' you over to de Antiquary? He'll ruin your life, petit, mais I don' have a choice. He offered the baby his left thumb and the child suckled on it. The smile returned to the boy's face and the alien eyes seemed to flare with comfort. I'm sorry, petit. I wish dere was anot'er way...

While maintaining a tight hold on the baby boy, he threw back his head. Heavy rain began to fall and it was almost like the heavens shed the tears he couldn't cry.

///

The Antiquary held his breath, delighted that Jean-Luc LeBeau had carried out his orders and had brought him the child. The two thieves now stood in front of him and Jean-Luc was clutching the baby protectively. "Give him to me," he whispered, slowly.

Jean-Luc shivered, hearing the old man's tone and reluctantly placed the baby in the Antiquary's arms.

"Blanc, you will paint me, paint me while I'm holding the chile in my arms!" The Antiquary posed while his assistant, a young man called Blanc, began sketching.

"Monsieur, de chile is wet and cold... mebbe he needs some milk, non?" Jean-Luc had found some blood on the baby's body while carrying him and had realized with a shock that he was truly carrying a newborn. The baby was only a few hours old!

"Later!" The Antiquary straightened his back and threw back his head in glorious victory. "De chile is mine and I decide what he needs and doesn't!"

The baby began to scream and his head lolled against the old man's chest. The tiny body was shivering and Jean-Luc's hands turned into fists. Why? Why does he want dis chile so bad? Why dis one?

"Because he's special, Jean-Luc," the Antiquary whispered, contently. "Dis newborn is more powerful dan you and I will ever be. He will keep me alive, sustain me..."

Puzzled, Jean-Luc tried to make sense of the old man's last remark, but failed. "Respectfully Antiquary, mais de bébé needs...."

"Rien!" The Antiquary sneered. "You bore me to death, LeBeau, leave me!"

Etienne trembled, feeling the old man's power. "Jean-Luc, let's go. We did our job; we did well. We can go home to our families now."

Jean-Luc felt paralyzed as Etienne pulled him toward the doorway. The baby boy was crying again and the cries made him flinch. I can' leave him here!
Suddenly, he was standing in the corridor and the door behind him slammed shut, jolting him from his thoughts and back to reality. I left him dere! I left him dere! I should have opposed de old man! I should have...

"Jean-Luc? Let's go home. I'm sure Henri will want to see his père and Claire is waiting for her husband to join dem for dinner. You have a family to go home to. Forget 'bout de abomination. De Antiquary will protect de Guild from de Devil's spawn." Etienne smiled and pushed Jean-Luc toward the front door.

Jean-Luc was tempted to run back, snatch the baby from the monster's arms, but knew his attempt to save the child would be useless. The Antiquary would never let go of his possessions. I'll come back and help you escape, I promise, petit.

Determined to help the boy, Jean-Luc let Etienne guide him back on to the street. He had to bide his time and wait for the right opportunity to spring the child.

///

"No!" Essex' face contorted with anger at finding the baby gone. "No, it's impossible! I only left the room for five minutes! He can't be gone!" Fed by his anger, the transformation into Sinister started. Cold, red eyes locked on the crib and he could still feel the baby's body heat when he placed his hand inside the crib.

"All these years... all this work... the genes, lost... It will take me years, maybe even decades to re-construct his DNA!" Stunned, he looked at the open window. Someone had taken the baby, if only he knew who had dared to cross him. "The gene pool... lost... those precious genes..."

Standing tall, he looked out over the city. How hard could it be to find a baby with alien eyes? I'll find you and when I do, I'll never let you out of my laboratory again.

 

Chapter One - The Antiquary

"Come here, Mauve," the Antiquary hissed, selecting one child from the twenty kneeling in front of him. While the chosen child approached, he felt red on black eyes on him, settling on his back. "Don' you dare move, Noir, or you'll pay for your disobedience in ways you can't imagine."

The boy called Mauve hesitantly approached and he smiled, faking his friendliness. "Come here, chile." He'd given them names derived from colors to make sure they never found out their real names. Mauve came to a halt in front of him and he raised his bony hand to caress the boy's beautiful face. "Boticelli might have painted you as one of his divine angels." His fingers tangled in the boy's long hair and he nodded his head, staring into the mauve colored eyes. "You're special too, mon fils."

From the corner of his eyes he caught Noir flinch and he picked up anger and fear from the young mutant. The red on black eyes still fascinated him after nine years. "I'll call you to me later, Noir. Now stay on your knees and don' move!"

The boy's jaw set firmly, hearing that he was next. Mauve couldn't give the Antiquary the life energy the old man needed, so the Antiquary would call another... and another, until he felt strong again. Noir, he hated his name, hated the impersonal way the old monster treated them. Although it was evening they hadn't had a bite to eat all day and he had been kneeling next to the old man's chair for countless hours.

"Rose, Rouge, hold Mauve while I... take care of my needs," the Antiquary ordered and waited for the two older boys to wrap their arms around Mauve. "I'm so hungry, chile... so hungry."

Although the Antiquary wanted them to watch, Noir averted his eyes, knowing what would happen from personal experience.

The Antiquary placed his hands on both sides of Mauve's head and then pressed his chapped lips against the boy's, instigating a brutal kiss. Mauve struggled, but the hold was too tight and the Antiquary delighted in feeling the boy's fear and panic. His mind shifted, invaded the boy's and he relished the energy and power from the young mutant that would now sustain him. He needed their energy, their power. It was the only way he could exist. If he stopped feeding on them he would be dead within weeks.

Noir glanced at them and watched as the white energy rose from Mauve's lips and flowed into the Antiquary's mouth. Mauve was twitching, no longer trying to break free. Rose and Rouge had to support him or he would have fallen. The Antiquary, the leech, was still sucking the life energy from Mauve.

And after he finished wit' Mauve it's my turn... He shivered violently, knowing the Antiquary would drain him in a few minutes. If only it didn't hurt so much!

"Oui!" The Antiquary cried out in ecstasy, dropping Mauve onto the floor. "Now get me that one," he told the two other boys while pointing at Noir.

"Non, m'sieur, please... don' do it. You fed on me only yesterday... I still feel weak. Dere's li'l I can give you!" But his pleas were in vain as Rose and Rouge grabbed him roughly, dragging him to his feet so the Antiquary could easily brush his lips to start the energy transfer. "Please, M'sieur..." he sobbed, trying to mentally prepare himself for the pain, but failing miserably.

"Ah, you're très beau, petit... You're the strongest here, Noir... the strongest and the most beau. You'll keep me alive. When you are old and broken, your powers will still ensure my strength. I'll keep you forever..."

"Non..." he sobbed, struggling against the hold, but the boys only tightened it. "Please, non..." He tried to back away when the Antiquary leaned in closer, but Rouge cupped the back of his head in his hand and kept him steady. "Non..." The old man's lips brushed his and his body tensed completely, knowing the familiar pain would envelop him within seconds, and yes, it had started already.

The Antiquary's mind moved into his, placing itself over his thoughts as a shield, making it impossible for him to think clearly. The old man raced through his thoughts, his dreams, his hopes until he finally arrived at his core. 'Yes...' the Antiquary sighed inside his mind, tapping into his powers and draining him.

His breath was coming in spurts and his sight had grown blurry. Rose and Rouge were still holding him up and the Antiquary towered above him, smirking triumphantly. His knees gave out beneath him and he swayed on his feet. Rouge and Rose laid him down on the floor and the old man followed, never letting go of his lips. Please stop, m'sieur, hurts!

Be quiet, Noir, I'm not finished yet!

Hearing the Antiquary's voice in his mind always scared the hell out of him and he pinched his eyes shut, trying to lock out the pain. But the Antiquary's face stared back at him from within his soul and the pain was building. His bones were turning to jelly, his blood stilled in his veins, his eyes went dry and shriveled... the pain was too much and he passed out.

Displeased, the Antiquary released the boy's lips. This one's power was so strong, so young, so vital and it was tempting to feed on him every day, but he had to restrain himself or he'd kill the boy within weeks. "Make sure he rests... And look after Mauve as well," he added, barely acknowledging the two boys. As he sat down on his chair, he felt vibrant and alive.

///

"Noir? Noir? Can you hear me, mon ami?"

The pleading voice finally penetrated the fog surrounding his thoughts and he opened his red on black eyes. "Merde..." he whispered. "Can' move, Mauve."

Mauve struggled onto his knees and crawled toward him. "You look sick, Noir. How long did he have you?"

"Too long." He tried to shift onto his left side to lessen the nausea that was threatening to overwhelm him. He didn't want to throw up all over himself! "Did dey leave us some water?"

Mauve looked about and smiled, seeing a full water bottle. "Oui." He reached for it, uncapped it and helped his friend sit upright. "Take a few sips, leave some for me..."

Noir moaned as the cool and comforting liquid flowed down his throat. "He never held on dat long 'fore..." He still felt the old man's presence in his mind, watching him, making him a prisoner in his own mind. It was the worst invasion of his being he'd ever experienced.

"Hey, I want more water!" But Mauve was emptying the bottle himself. Being the weaker one he couldn't stop Mauve and told himself to be grateful for the little water Mauve had given him.

Lying down again, he tried to make himself as comfortable as possible on the dirty mattress. "How long do you t'ink he will keep us here?" He was scared to close his eyes, scared the Antiquary would suddenly call for him again.

Mauve shrugged his shoulders and lay down beside his friend, trying to get as close as possible to soak up Noir's body heat. "A few hours? A few days? He'll let us go once we've got our strength back."

"Den we can go back to our beds and get some sleep..."

The boys didn't understand why the Antiquary ordered the ones he had fed on to be taken to this basement. It was cold and dark, and the mattress damp and worn.

Suddenly the door opened and Rouge stepped inside. The sixteen year old red headed boy shyly entered the basement and put a tray filled with sandwiches and wine in front of them. "He wants you to eat. You can return to your rooms when you can walk on your own." Rouge backed away and locked the door behind him. "I'm sorry... sorry we had to hold you down..." The whispered words drifted through the door and into the basement.

How many times had he heard their apologies? Oui, they felt sorry, but they still did what the old monster said! "Mauve! Gimme a sandwich!"

"I'm hungry, Noir!" Reluctantly, Mauve handed his friend a sandwich. "You can have de wine, I'll stick to de water."

"I don' wanna drink de wine eit'er," Noir whispered; it would make him feel out of control.

"Too bad!" Mauve grabbed the water bottle and squeezed the last drops from it.

Slowly, Noir reached for the wine and sipped it. It took away his awful thirst and would make him fall asleep again. "Dis is hell, Mauve... what did we do to deserve hell? We didn' commit no crime...did we?"

Mauve shrugged his shoulders again. "It's betta dan livin' on de streets, mon ami. We don' have parents and we're... different. We wouldn' survive on our own."

After finishing his sandwich, Noir sipped from the wine once more and then snuggled up on the mattress. "I'd survive... I would..."

"Forget about it, Noir. He'll never let you go! We'll all die sustainin' him." The boy's tone softened briefly. "I know it's harder on you dan for us. He feeds on you almost every day and... I know how much it hurts."

Closing his eyes, he pretended to be asleep. I can' stay here! I'll die if I stay. Mon Dieu, please let me find a way out! Please! Too tired from the recent power drain, his eyes slipped shut and he fell asleep.

Mauve unwrapped the blanket from his own form and draped it over his friend, knowing Noir needed the warmth.

///

"I can walk," he said, determinedly, and allowed Mauve to support him unnoticed.

Rose, convinced that the boys could walk, nodded his head. "Return to your rooms and wait until de Antiquary calls for you 'gain." Rose left them alone.

"Mauve, I can' make it on my own," he admitted. "My head's spinnin' and..."

"Bien, Noir, hold on to me. I'll take you to your room." Mauve kept a close eye on his surroundings, knowing he would be in a lot of trouble if the Antiquary caught him supporting his friend.

"Merci, Mauve, merci..."

Together they mastered the stairs and Mauve helped him lie down on his bed. The luxury of the room stood in stark contrast to the basement. Silk sheets, a burning fire place, and garments made from the finest linen, gave the room a false sense of home.

"You'll be bien, Noir. I'm goin' to my own room, now, bien?" Mauve felt nervous; the Antiquary didn't want the boys to befriend each other and they were already closer than was allowed.

"Oui, go," he whispered, pulling the warm, soft comforter over his body and hiding beneath it. "Mais leave de light on!" Although bright lights hurt his eyes he couldn't sleep in the complete dark any longer, not after he'd found the Antiquary at his bedside one night, ready to claim his lips and drain him.

"Sure," Mauve said reassuringly and turned the nightlight on. "Bien?" Mauve softly closed the door behind him and headed for his own room.

"Bien," Noir sighed contentedly. Feeling warm, his eyes closed again, only to flash open again when he heard noises coming from the doorway. He elbowed himself into a sitting position and found that the old man was standing in the doorway. Shivers ran up and down his spine and his teeth chattered.

The old man seemed to float inside, his feet never touching the ground. "You served me well tonight."

Too weak to jump up from the bed, he could only stare as the ghastly apparition advanced on him. What does he want from me? Why me?

"From now on you won' leave your room without my explicit permission."

The red on black eyes widened. "Why m'sieur? Did I displease you?" He wouldn't see Mauve or any of the other boys again if he was confined to his room!

"You're gettin' too friendly with the others and I can' allow dat. You'll spend your days in here." He raised his hand and tangled it in the boy's silken hair. "You're too valuable, Noir."

He shuddered beneath the touch and sighed, relieved when the old man left his room. Looking about, he took in his room, his new prison. Non! I won' stay! I will find a way to get 'way from him!

///

"Noir! The Antiquary wants you at his side. I'm here to help you get dressed." Jaune stormed into his room, looking dazed and nervous. "We only have ten minutes to get you ready."

"I ain' sure I can get to my feet," he whispered, feeling weaker than ever before. This last week the old man had fed on him every night and he was barely able to push down the blanket.

"You're supposed to drink dis, hurry!" Jaune, a fifteen year old boy with white hair and haunted green eyes handed him a goblet filled with a dark liquid.

It wasn't the first time the Antiquary had ordered him to drink this vile substance. It would strengthen him temporarily and then he'd crash hard. He had no way out and emptied the goblet. "Why does he want me to come downstairs?" He felt like a rag doll when Jaune began to dress him in a blue silk shirt and black, velvet trousers.

"He's expecting a visitor... an important one," Jaune revealed as he finished dressing Noir. Quickly, he combed the long auburn hair and he let it hang loose, just the way the Antiquary liked it. After helping the boy to step into his shoes, he shooed Noir toward the doorway.

He stumbled over his own two feet after being horizontal this last week. Jaune caught him and he held on, making it downstairs. Slowly, the Antiquary's concoction began to take effect and he felt stronger, experimentally brushing off Jaune's arm. Yes, he could walk on his own. He had to!

///

"Stand beside me and don' speak or move without my permission," the Antiquary said, pleased that the boy was standing at his side.

"Oui, m'sieur." Noir leaned slightly against the wall behind him. When the old man didn't reprimand him, he sighed softly. This way he could make it through the next few hours.

"Jean-Luc LeBeau, Patriarch of the Thieves Guild of New Orleans, wishes an audience with you, Antiquary."

"Who are you?" The Antiquary's eyes narrowed.

"My name is Henri LeBeau and I'm the Patriarch's son," Henri said proudly.

The Antiquary nodded his head. "Let him enter, but tell him to remain at a distance."

Henri joined his father and the two Cajuns returned again, standing in front of the Antiquary, then kneeling and bowing their heads. "Merci for granting us dis audience, Antiquary," Henri said, while his eyes scanned the room. Twenty boys stood behind the throne, close to the Antiquary and they seemed confused, their eyes vacant and lost.

Jean-Luc was doing the same thing, checking the boys' faces, searching for the alien eyes that haunted him every night since he'd stolen the baby from the hospital. Looking up at the Antiquary his gaze was drawn to the pale and skinny boy next to the old man. The auburn hair reached the boy's shoulders and the red on black eyes were lowered; the boy was staring at the floor, seemingly oblivious to his surroundings. Or mebbe he's only actin'... tryin' to fool us.

Seeing the boy after nine long years shocked him. He'd tried before to get an audience with the Antiquary, but had always been denied that privilege... until now. The Assassins were gaining strength and they needed the Antiquary to set the balance straight again.

"So, de Assassins are causin' problems?" The Antiquary raised his hand and rested it on Noir's head, stroking the long hair absentmindedly.

He shivered under the caress, but forced himself to remain motionless. The old man always sensed his fear and he couldn't let his panic show in front of the other boys. They would only make fun of him later. They all feared the Antiquary and tried hard to gain his favor by making fun of the weaker ones.

"Oui, de fightin' started 'gain. T'ieves and Assassins are killin' each other. We need your help, Antiquary." Jean-Luc hated to grovel like this, but the Antiquary loved to feel in control and would be more inclined to help him. Unnoticed, he managed to keep an eye on the boy he had stolen from the hospital nine years ago. His plan had better work, because this was the only chance he'd get!

The Antiquary fingered a lock of auburn hair, considering Jean-Luc's request. The master thief had delivered the mutant boy into his hands years ago and he wanted to keep the Patriarch on his good side; Jean-Luc probably figured the Antiquary owed him. "Oui, I'll help de T'ieves regain their position. Now leave me. There are more... delicious matters I have to attend to."

Jean-Luc caught the boy's shivers and he wondered what had caused them. Did the Antiquary abuse the kids? Looking at their faces, he read the answer in their eyes; they were nothing but rag dolls, ready to carry out the Antiquary's orders. Contrary to the others, the red on black eyed boy still seemed defiant. Now, Etienne, now!

An explosion rocked the building and the children stared at each other in panic. The Antiquary was too surprised to act and the boys ran off in different directions as a huge smoke cloud drifted into the room.

Jean-Luc was already on his way to the boy when he found the spot next to the Antiquary empty. Merde, where did he go? Why didn' I keep my eye on him? I don' even know what name to call to get his attention!

The Antiquary composed himself and noticed the boy's disappearance as well. "Bring Noir to me, now go and find him!" The few boys that had stayed behind or had returned nodded their heads and went in search of Noir.

Noir, Jean-Luc thought. Who calls a boy Noir? De chile deserves a bon name! The Antiquary told him to leave the premises until they had figured out what had caused the explosion and he obeyed eagerly. I've got to find de chile! Mon Dieu, help him when he hits de streets! He knows rien 'bout life on de streets!

Jean-Luc's mouth turned dry, realizing what danger the boy was in.

 

Chapter Two - Bourbon Street

Running, he was running harder than he ever had before and he didn't have any place to go. The moment he left the Antiquary's home, he crashed on to a busy street and people almost knocked him over. Men in suits, women in pretty dresses and kids running and whining were suddenly all around him. His eyes almost popped from their sockets and he flung himself against the wall, trying to hide from their eyes.

Shocked, he stared at the crowd. Although he was still trying to deal with the sudden noise, he noticed one thing straight away; his clothes made him seem oddly out of place. No one was wearing silk or velvet!

Moving, he had to keep moving and stay ahead of the Antiquary, who would doubtlessly hunt him down. Suddenly, a large man bounced into him, knocked him off his feet and he crawled back to his feet. The man hadn't even apologized or helped him!

Dese people don' care, he realized with a start. He was all alone here. Yes, he had rid himself of the Antiquary, but now he was at the mercy of these strangers! Picking up speed, he moved with the crowd until he ended up on an even busier street. The sun was setting and a million lights were switching on, blinding him.

Moaning in pain, he managed to drag himself into an alley, where he massaged his throbbing brow and temples. He had told Mauve he could survive on his own, but now he was no longer sure of his survival skills. Maybe he should go back to the Antiquary? At least there he had shelter and food. Non! I ain' goin' back, ever! Somehow he'd find a way to survive! Now that the darkness of the alley shielded his eyes, he took in his surroundings. The houses were all illuminated and there was writing on them. He cursed the Antiquary for not teaching him how to read or write; the old man had deemed that unnecessary.

Several men left the houses and swayed onto the street, singing and swinging a bottle. Their eyes were glazed and he shrunk back instinctively, trying to make himself invisible. Then he noticed the girls. They only wore tiny shirts and skirts and didn't seem cold at all, while he was freezing. They talked to the swaying men and tried to lure them back inside again.

Scared, yet curious at the same time, he watched the men disappear into the houses. Looking up, something caught his attention. A man and a woman had retreated into the alley as well and the man was panting hard. What are dey doin'? In the end, his curiosity won and he sneaked a little closer.

The woman had unbuttoned the man's trousers and... Noir cocked his head, trying to get a better look. She was pulling at something and... Why is she goin' down on her knees? One more step and he was close enough to see what they were doing.

Mon Dieu! What? Noir looked down at his own body and frowned. Why was the woman licking the man's penis? Why? Does he have to pee and can' and she's somehow helpin' him? It just didn't make any sense.

The man began to pant harder and Noir found himself holding his breath. He was unable to take his eyes off the scene, instinctively waiting for whatever would follow next. Noir gasped when the man clutched the woman's head and drove her against his stomach. She yelped softly and then cursed, while the man seemed to tense and shiver.

"Bastard!" she spat in disgust. "I said I didn't swallow. That'll cost you extra!"

The man laughed, buttoned up again and threw a piece of paper at her. "Here you've got another ten, whore."

Stunned, Noir backed away from them and collapsed against the wall, slowly sliding down onto the cobblestone where he wrapped his arms around his cold body. He didn't understand what he had witnessed, but feared knotted his stomach and he began to heave. The dry heaves only lasted a few minutes, but he felt wretched and exhausted.

"What do we have here?"

The voice startled him and he jumped to his feet. He wanted to start running, but a hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. A man, dressed in dark clothes, stood in front of him and left him no way out. "Lemme go, m'sieur, please!" He kicked; trying to struggle free, but the man effortlessly lifted him, until his feet were no longer in contact with the cobblestone. Lemme go! Don' take me back to de Antiquary.

A bright flashlight made him cry out in pain and he tried to cover his eyes with his hand. The big man didn't let him and he began to cry, overwhelmed by everything he had witnessed since fleeing the Antiquary's home. Mebbe Mauve was right. Mebbe I can' do this... mebbe I can' survive on my own, mais I can' go back eit'er...

"Are you hungry, kid?"

"De lights... hurt my eyes." He was shaking like a leaf and still trying to struggle free from the man's hold.

"Don't be scared, kid. My name is MacAfee, Officer MacAfee. I'm a cop." He tried to keep the shock from his voice, staring into red on black eyes. Why did the boy have alien eyes? Did it matter? The boy obviously needed help.

Suddenly his feet touched the cobblestone again and he hesitantly glanced up at the man. Friendly brown eyes stared back at him and the gentle grin on the man's face made him smile back. "M'sieur."

"What's a kid your age doing out here alone?" MacAfee leaned in closer, keeping his smile in place. The last thing he wanted was to scare the kid. "Where are your parents? Where do you life?"

"Parents?" He repeated the strange word. "What are parents?"

MacAfee's eyes grew big. "You got hit over the head or what? Maybe I should take you to the hospital."

Hospital? Non, don' like de sound of dat. I don' want to be locked up in some strange place. Looking about, he decided that he wanted to stay on the streets where he could run into a deserted alley when necessary. His stomach growled hungrily and he wrapped his arms around his abdomen.

"Maybe we should grab a bite to eat?" MacAfee suggested. He would try to win the kid's trust and then take him to the hospital to have him checked out. The parents were probably going crazy, now that their kid was missing.

"Eat? As in food?" He was hungry and had no idea where and how to get something to eat. "Oui."

"Gimme your hand, kid." MacAfee extended his hand. He frowned as the boy jerked back and tried to hide in the shadows. "Okay, kid, I won't touch you, just let's get something to eat, alright?"

"Eat, oui..." The man moved away and he followed MacAfee, but never moved close enough for the man to touch him. Officer... the man had said he was an officer. "What's an officer?"

"I'm a cop," MacAfee explained; it was unbelievable that this kid didn't know what parents and cops were! "I take care of people who need help."

I need help... non, I don' need help! Can survive on my own! He was almost knocked from his feet when they mixed with the crowd, but suddenly MacAfee had a strong hold on his shoulder and... Rose and Rouge were holding him down, making it easy for the Antiquary to drain him and... reliving the flashback, he broke free and began to run again.

"Hey, kid, wait for me!" MacAfee tried to follow the boy, but soon lost the kid amidst the crowd. "Damn! If the pimps get hold of him..." Feeling discouraged, MacAfee walked toward the coffee shop where he had wanted to buy the kid something to eat, but he remained alert, hoping to catch another glimpse of the boy.

///

The rainfall had worsened and his wet clothes clung to his body. His long hair obscured his face as he made his way down Bourbon Street. From beneath his hair he studied the scantily dressed girls, the drunken men and realized surviving on these streets would be hard. Again, hands grabbed him, but he shook them off.

"Come on, kid, go home with me. I'll even pay you fifty bucks!"

The proposal made him shiver. "Non, leave me alone." He managed to give the man the slip and retreated back into one of the alleys. A few steps away from him another boy accepted the money and pressed himself against the man, who led his prize away from the crowd.

Bucks... bucks is a different word for dollars, money... I overheard them talkin' and she asked him for fifty bucks and he gave her a piece of paper. She went into a store and bought somethin', givin' de shopkeeper dat piece of paper. Slowly, the world was beginning to make sense and it was an ugly world he found himself in.

"Got some change to spare? Monsieur? Got some change to spare? Some change?"

The words caught his attention and he saw an older boy leaning against the walls, holding up his hands. Sometimes a man or woman threw a coin into his open hands. Beggin', he's beggin'! Stunned, he looked at his own hands. I can do dat too!

Moving away from the alley, he mimicked the boy's words and moves. "Got some change to spare? Some change?" He held out his hand, watching the people's faces as they passed him by.

"Hey, this is my spot! Find your own or I'll kick your ass! Move it, shrimp!"

It was the boy he had mimicked, and he was awfully pissed off. Keeping his eyes lowered, he hoped the other boy hadn't caught sight of his alien eyes yet. "I'm sorry. I'll move on..."

"You'd better! If Monsieur Cardinale catches sight of you he'll want you for his stable."

"Stable?" Confused, he looked up at the other boy, forgetting about shielding his eyes.

"Sweet Jesus!" The other boy backed away and crossed himself.

"What? My eyes... I was born dat way, can' help it."

The boy eyed him suspiciously. "You're new around here, aren't you? The word would have been on the street by now if you'd been around for a while."

Feeling miserable, he leaned against the wall. "Please, I'm so cold and hungry..."

"What's your name, kid?"

"Noir."

"Noir? What kinda name is that?"

"De only one I have. He named me Noir."

"He? Your father?"

"Fat'er?" He looked pleading at the other boy. "What's a fat'er?"

"Your père, your poppa... The man who took care of you."

"Oui, then I guess he's my père. He named me Noir." Shivering from the cold, he tried to wrap the wet clothes more closely around his body. "What do I do?" he whispered, lost.

"My name's Philippe," the other boy introduced himself. "I'll take you to the shelter. The Salvation Army runs one on Bienville Street. Maybe they'll even let you spend the night there."

"Merci." Philippe held out his right hand and he reluctantly took hold of it. "Where are we? What is dis place?"

Philippe frowned. "Bourbon Street."

"Are we still in N'Awlins?"

"Yes, but..." Philippe now noticed the old fashioned clothes the boy was wearing. "Where does your father life?"

He shivered. "Don' know," he whispered; it wasn't really a lie. He really didn't know where the Antiquary's house was situated. "How do I survive out here?"

Philippe's frown deepened. "You don't want to survive out here, kid. Go home, don't stay here!"

"Can' go home!" he exploded. "Hurts too much..." Flashbacks made him halt in his tracks and he tried to breathe through them, feeling the Antiquary's lips on his again, draining him...

Philippe shrugged his shoulders. "Should have known that your old man couldn't keep his dirty hands to himself. Isn't that why we all end up here?"

"What did 'your old man' do?" Philippe seemed to like him and he needed a friend if he wanted to survive on Bourbon Street.

"He abused me, kid..." Philippe briefly locked eyes with him. "Did he abuse you too?"

"Abuse?" He didn't know the word and tightened his hold on Philippe's hand. "What's abuse?"

Philippe released a strangled sigh. How was it possible that this kid didn't know these words? "Abuse is when someone uses your body against your will. You don't want him to touch you, but he still does and he hurts you a lot." He didn't know how else to explain it in terms the boy might understand.

"Oui," he whispered, nodding his head. The Antiquary had used him while he had tried to fight the old man off. The Antiquary had invaded his mind, had taken his life energy from him, leaving him exhausted and bruised. "He hurt me a lot."

"I'm sorry to hear that, kid, but that's life." Philippe cursed himself privately. He didn't have the time or the money to look after the boy. He had to take care of himself first! "Here's the shelter. Be polite and they'll help you. The people that run this shelter are okay."

"Merci for helpin' me, Philippe." He looked inside and saw several people carrying clothes and canned foods. Looking back at Philippe, he swallowed hard. "Will I see you 'gain?"

"You know where to find me, shrimp." Philippe ruffled the dirty hair, wondering what the kid's real hair color was. "But don't come there at night; it's much too dangerous for someone as young as you."

He nodded his head. "I'll find you... merci, Philippe."

Philippe pushed the boy inside. "Go ask them for some dry clothes and something to eat. If they got enough beds you can stay for the night as well." He waved at the little boy as he walked away.

Taking a deep breath, he walked up to an elderly woman who was sorting through a pile of clothes. She wore black clothes and a little hat, which struck him as funny and he grinned. "Madame?"

She looked up from her chore and raised an eyebrow. "Petit?" Taking in his appearance she shook her head. "You're cold and wet, petit, and you need a shower." She grabbed his hand and pulled him along. "Here, take a shower and I'll put some dry clothes in dere by de time you're ready."

Totally overwhelmed, he accepted the dry towels and the bar of soap, which she pushed into his hands. "Merci, madame." After she had left the shower, he quickly stripped and stepped beneath the warm shower spray. Letting the warm water cascade down his body he took hold of the soap and worked up a lather, washing his hair as well. Feeling a little melancholy, he recalled the luxurious baths back at the Antiquary's home, but he wasn't going back there, ever!

"Chile? Get dressed! I got you some warm soup and bread!"

He recognized the woman's voice and quickly dried his skin and hair. She had placed underwear, a white T-shirt, a brown sweater, socks and a pair of jeans where his dirty clothes had been. Hesitantly, he dressed, left the shower cabin and went in search of her. "Madame."

"Ah, it's de petit. My name is Marie," she introduced herself and guided him to the kitchen. "Sit down, petit, and start eating."

He shoveled the bread quickly into his mouth and looked toward her for more.

"Soup first," she chided him.

He quickly finished the soup and handed her the empty bowl. "More, please?"

Smiling, she refilled his bowl and handed him another piece of bread. After sitting down opposite him she watched him eat. "What's your name, petit?"

"Noir," he whispered between bites. He smiled at her; she had pretty blonde locks and friendly blue eyes. "Can I stay here?"

"For now, oui," Marie replied. "We got enough beds so you can stay de night. Tomorrow we'll start looking for your parents."

The spoon slipped from his fingers and crashed into the bowl. "Non! Don' wanna go back!"

Marie sighed deeply. "You ran away, didn't you, petit?"

"Oui," he mouthed between two spoonfuls of soup. Using his newly found knowledge, he added, "He abused me."

"Oh, poor petit." Marie placed her hand over his. "I'll contact Child Protection Services, mebbe dey can help you!"

He wasn't sure he wanted her to do that, but remained silent, too focussed on eating his soup. Once he had finished, he yawned, trying to keep his eyes open. She didn' say a t'ing 'bout my eyes, wonder why?

"Come wit' me, petit. I'll show you your bed." Marie guided him to the sleeping quarters and helped him climb his bed. "Bien?"

"Bien." He looked about and recognized the type of men that occupied the other beds. Those were the men that swayed over Bourbon Street, taking girls into the dark alleys and unbuttoning their trousers. Suddenly, he didn't feel safe anymore. I'm gonna sleep and tomorrow mornin' I'm outa here.

"Dese shoes should fit you." Marie placed a pair of sneakers beneath his bed. "Lie down, petit."

He obeyed and she covered him with the blanket. "Try to get some sleep."

"Merci, madame," he whispered and smiled, thankful for her friendliness. Closing his eyes, he realized just how tired he really was and slipped into sleep.

"Poor petit," Marie sighed. "I wish I could help you..." But the Child Protection Services were already understaffed and wouldn't be able to do much for the runaway. Noir was destined to become one of the many street kids and hustlers that lived on Bourbon Street.

///

The next morning, he grabbed his shoes, put them on, stole a coat and fled the shelter. He had overheard Marie talk to a stranger about returning him to his father and he couldn't go back to the Antiquary. Now he was on Bourbon Street again and the cobblestone almost made him trip, running as fast as he did.

He was searching for Philippe, maybe the older boy would help him! He felt better today; his clothes were dry and although they weren't a perfect fit, he didn't stand out that much any more. He continued down Bourbon Street, searching for Philippe.

It wasn't that crowded yet. A few men were sleeping off their hangovers in the alleys and the girls were standing on the balconies, talking and giggling.

"Philippe!" Suddenly, he saw the older boy, emerging from an alley. His clothes were rumpled and his left cheek bruised. Freezing in his tracks, he watched how an older man pushed passed Philippe while swatting the boy on his butt. "Philippe?" Slowly approaching the older boy, he remained alert.

"Ah, it's you again. Didn't I tell you to stay at the shelter?" Philippe rubbed his bruised cheek and walked slowly.

"Are you hurtin'?" He fell into step beside Philippe.

"Why didn't you stay at the shelter?" Philippe clutched his stomach in pain.

"Dey were gonna take me back to my père..." Cautiously, he rested his hand on Philippe's and was startled when the older boy jerked back. "Where are we goin'?"

Philippe didn't want to be stuck with the kid, but couldn't tell him to go to hell either. "I'm renting a room nearby. You can stay there for now..."

In silence they walked to an old building. Philippe climbed the stairs slowly, moaning in pain. After opening the door, he pointed at a chair. "The bed's mine... make yourself useful and tidy up a bit."

"Oui, bien!" Glad that he could do something useful he began to clean up while Philippe climbed into bed. "What's dis?" He stared at the strange, white, filthy piece of rubber.

"It's a condom, dummy," Philippe said bitterly. "Never let them fuck you without protection."

"A condom? Fuck?" His eyes grew big, tasting the words. Seeing Philippe's stunned expression, he threw the thing in the wastebasket.

"Sweet Jesus, you have no idea what I'm talking about!" Philippe exclaimed, tired. "Come here, kid."

He sat down on the side of the bed, watching Philippe with a concerned expression in his eyes. "Tell me?" He had to know what he was up against if he wanted to survive.

"You use a condom when a man wants to have sex with you."

"Sex?"

"Fuck..." Philippe shook his head. "Where do you come from? Another century? When you pee you touch your penis, okay?"

He nodded his head, wondering what Philippe was trying to tell him.

"Sometimes, a penis gets hard and that's called an erection. When that happens a man wants to have sex, to put his penis in you and then he starts to thrust until he comes."

"Comes?"

Philippe's eyes grew big. "He shoots cream from his penis. They will pay you for making them come."

He still didn't understand. "Where does he want to put his penis?"

Philippe's hand moved between the boy's legs, touching his anus. "Right here."

He jumped up from the bed, putting distance between them. "Mais it's much too small!"

"It'll fit, don't worry," Philippe said in a bitter tone. "Make sure they never fuck you without a condom." Seeing the boy's puzzled look, he added, "Make sure he puts it around his penis."

"Do you let dem do dat to you? Is dat why you're hurtin'?"

"Yeah, I earned a hundred dollars last night." He uncovered the money and showed it to the boy. "But there are easier ways to make money."

"Like what?" He sat back down on the bed and watched Philippe's eyes. They reminded him of Mauve's, Rose's, Rouge's, all the children the Antiquary had used.

"You can suck them off," Philippe said tired, figuring he had better educated the boy before a dirty bastard got to him. "Again, make sure they use a condom."

"Suck dem off?" Trembling, he stared at Philippe.

"Close your lips around his penis and suck. Don't let them pay you less than fifty. They get off on using someone as young as you."

"I saw a woman do dat to a man in de alley," he remembered. "She said she didn' wanna swallow, mais he forced her to do it anways."

"Stay away from the dirty old bastards, kid. You're quick and agile. Try to find someone who can teach you how to pick their pockets instead." Philippe's eyes closed. "I need to get some sleep, kid. It's show time again in a few hours. Watch some TV, but keep the noise down." Using the remote, he switched on the TV.

Dazedly, he walked over to the screen and touched it with his fingertips. Animals were sneaking through the jungle and they were close enough to touch, but his fingertips only encountered glass. "TV," he whispered, stunned and sat down in front of it, watching over Philippe as the older boy slept.

///

Several hours later Philippe opened his eyes and wondered why the TV was on. Seeing the boy slumped in front of it brought his memories back. He should know better than to pick up runaways; he could barely support himself. If the kid wanted to stay, he would have to start pulling his weight.

"Wake up!"

The boy jerked awake, panicked briefly and then smiled at Philippe.

"What's your name again?" Philippe struggled to his feet, determined to take a shower before heading out onto the streets again.

"I found myself a new one. I was watchin' a movie and dere was dis kid, trying' to make it on his own. His name was Remy... I like dat name... I hate Noir!"

"Okay, Remy, if that's what you want me to call you. Do you cook?" Philippe stripped and stepped into the bathroom. Still need to clean up in here. It's a mess.

"Cook?" Remy followed Philippe, shyly taking in the older boy's body, seeing the bruises on his hips and the tiny amount of blood clinging to his buttocks. "Are you still in pain?"

Philippe shook his head. "I'm fine, now try to find something edible in the kitchen?"

Remy eagerly nodded his head. After rummaging in the nearly empty fridge, he managed to make some sandwiches.

Philippe exited the bathroom again after slipping into some clean clothes. His rent was due tonight and he had better find some johns who were interested in him. Maybe he could take the kid along, use him to bait the johns.

Philippe dug into the sandwiches and studied the kid. He didn't make enough money to support both of them. "Do you want to stay?"

"Oui, please." Remy waited until Philippe had eaten his share and then devoured the remaining sandwiches.

"You'll have to pull your weight, make your own money..." Philippe sighed, hating himself for making his next suggestion. "They'll pay good money if you suck them off."

Remy almost choked on his sandwich. "You want me to do... dat?"

"We need the money, kid. It's either that, or you've got to leave." He also had to talk to his dealer; he needed more stuff. The crack made his life bearable and his last dose was losing effect. He was coming down hard, but tried to hide that from the kid. Remy probably didn't know about drugs yet and he wanted to keep it that way for now.

"I don' know if I can do dat," Remy admitted; a lump was forming in his throat and the image of the man and woman in that alley was glued to his retina.

"Here, use these." Philippe handed Remy some sunglasses. "I don't know how the johns will react to your eyes so we'd better play it safe."

Remy put on the sunglasses. "Do I really have to?"

"I'm not forcing you to go along with this, kid. You're free to leave whenever you want. Go back to your old man or the shelter. It's not like I'm not giving you a choice."

"I'm comin' wit' you," Remy decided eventually. He couldn't go back to the shelter where they would take him back to the Antiquary. Somehow, he would survive.

///

Remy was standing behind Philippe, feeling scared and nervous. A few men had already approached them, asking them about the prices they charged. Much to Philippe's chagrin, the johns were only interested in the boy. Part of him wanted to protect the kid, keep away the ugliness, but another part needed the crack and was considering acting as his pimp.

"How much?" A middle aged, bald man, dressed in jeans and a black shirt stared at Remy, devouring the kid with his eyes. "How old is he?"

"How old are you?" Philippe nudged Remy in his side.

"I'm nine..."

"Nine years old? Fuck, I never had one that young! How much?" The man was drooling and already uncovering his wallet.

Philippe sat on his heels and locked eyes with Remy. "We need the money. My rent is due tonight and if we can't pay it, we'll be living on the streets."

Remy squirmed. "I don' t'ink I can do dis, Philippe..."

"Why don't we find out first what he wants and how much he's willing to pay?"

"Bien," Remy whispered, reluctantly nodding his head.

Philippe faced the man again. "What do you want?"

"I want to fuck him," the man said, drooling.

"No," Philippe said determinedly. No matter how much he wanted the money he didn't want the boy traumatized. "He'll suck you off for one hundred dollars."

Remy's eyes grew big behind the sunglasses. Non...

"Remy, we need the money! You won't find another guy who's willing to give you one hundred bucks for a blowjob. You can do it."

Remy didn't want to disappoint Philippe and nodded his head. "I'll try." The mere thought of taking the man's penis in his mouth made him gag, but Philippe needed the money and he didn't want to lose his friend.

"Good boy." Philippe patted Remy's hair and then faced the man again. "You pay me first."

The man eyed them suspiciously, but then handed Philippe the money. "He'd better be good."

"Remy, walk into that alley..." Philippe shooed him deeper into the darkness and then turned to their customer. "Here, use a condom. If he tells me you ditched it, the deal's off."

Growling, the man grabbed the condom and stalked into the alley. Remy stood motionless and the john signaled him to come closer. He loved it when they kneeled in front of him, but the boy was small and wouldn't be able to suck him off on his knees. "Unzip me."

Remy's hands trembled when they unzipped the man's jeans. A vile stench assaulted his nostrils and he swallowed hard, knowing Philippe needed him to do this.

"Take it out."

While taking deep breaths, Remy obeyed and stared at the throbbing cock in his hands. It was way too big to put in his mouth! He would choke! The man put one hand over his and moved it along his cock.

"Yeah, pump it, kid..." His breath was coming in spurts and he bucked hard.

Hidden by the sunglasses, tears flowed down Remy's face. While stroking the hard rod of flesh in his hands he started to shiver.

"Open those lips, little one..."

Without warning, the man grabbed him roughly by his shoulders and pushed his cock past his teeth. Remy nearly choked, shock and stark terror were building in his stomach. It was getting hard to breathe when the man began to thrust and he wanted to beg the man to stop, but the thrusts grew more violent, hitting the back of his throat. The latex condom made him nauseous and he struggled in earnest now, wishing the man would stop.

Suddenly, the man thrust deeply and kept him in place, burying himself deep in his throat. Remy tried to call out, to tell Philippe he couldn't take it, but then the man pulled back, patting his head.

"You've got sweet lips, little one," the man said, removing the condom, tying it and throwing it onto the ground. "I'll be back and then I'll fuck your little ass..." Walking away, he grinned, leaving Remy alone in the alley.

"Remy, are you alright? Remy?" Philippe rushed closer and found Remy kneeling on the cobblestone, arms wrapped around him and rocking hard. "It's gonna be okay, kid. Together with the hundred dollars I made last night and yours we can pay the rent." And I can buy some crack as well... He wanted to fold one arm around Remy to reassure him, but the boy jerked away from him.

"Don' touch me!"

The red eyes flared in the darkness. "I'm sorry, kid, but you'd better get used to servicing them. It's the only way to survive out here. When I started out three years ago, I thought I could survive without being a whore, but the truth is, you can't. It's the only way to make money."

"You mean I've got to do it 'gain?" He stared at Philippe in disbelief. The other boy nodded his head; Remy's stomach suddenly contracted and he threw up, bile rising from his stomach.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay. The first time is always the worst," Philippe said reassuringly. "You'll find a way to deal with it..." He rubbed Remy's back and stopped the long hair from falling into the boy's face. "If you're lucky you only have to do it once, maybe twice a night. Not every john will pay a hundred bucks for a blow job."

Shocked and miserable, Remy rode out the dry heaves and stared at the cobblestone. I can' go back to de Antiquary... But he wasn't sure he could suck someone off again. Mais do I have a choice? Looking up at Philippe, he realized he had made his choice when he had agreed to the blowjob.

"Philippe? I'm scared."

"I know you are... I was scared too when I started working the streets, but we've got each other. I'll help you through it..." Like the crack helped him through it and he had better score something tonight.

Remy used his sleeve to clean his lips and wished he could wash away the vile taste with a drink, maybe even brush his teeth.

"Come on, let's get moving. Cardinale's boys will be here soon and we had better be gone by then. This is their spot and I don't want to get into a fight with their pimp." Dragging Remy to his feet, they left the alley.

Remy leaned heavily on Philippe, his head reeling and his body trembling. He felt like a stranger had taken over his body and he followed Philippe obediently when the older boy took him to their room.

 

Go on to Part1