Title: The eyes of a child
Author: Morgana (morganalebeau@yahoo.com)
Website: http://www.oocities.org/morganalebeau/
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The eyes of a child 3 - Hustling
By Morgana
"Here's your money."
Remy accepted the seventy dollars and handed them to Philippe. He still hated performing this act, but by sucking them off he made enough money to help pay the rent and buy food. Philippe nodded his head after counting the money and Remy took the man upstairs to their room. It had been raining for days now and he wanted to be someplace dry and warm, not catching pneumonia on Bourbon Street.
"Nice crib you got here," the huge, black man said as he sat down on the bed. "Come on, kid, give it to me."
Remy took a few breaths to steady himself. He would never get used to sucking them off, but he had learned how to push back his feelings until he felt numb; that made going down on them easier.
He kneeled in front of the bed and the man spread his legs. With moves that were now well practiced, Remy unbuttoned the man's jeans and pushed down his underwear. Hiding his disgust, he took the man's cock in his hand and stroked it a few times.
"Your mouth, kid, I want your mouth." The man leaned against the wall, stretching his long body.
Quickly, he rolled down the condom and then leaned in closer, taking the latex-covered cock into his mouth. Sucking it hard, he tried to get it over with quickly.
"Slow down, kid, slow down!" The man bucked hard.
Suddenly the john's hands clutched his head and they pushed him deeper onto the cock until he almost gagged. Relaxing his throat, he took in the long rod and deepthroated him, knowing it would earn him an extra ten bucks.
"Yeah, hell, you're good, son... that's it, nice and slow... and deep."
Remy felt the man tense beneath him and sucked hard; the man came, pushing his cock against the back of his throat. I hate dis! He wanted to scream the words, but his lips were closed around a now sated cock. Finally the man pulled back.
"Good boy," he said approvingly. "Why don't you let me fuck you, son? It would earn you another eighty bucks." He was one of Remy's regulars and always asked that same question after the boy had sucked him off.
"I don' let anyone fuck me," Remy said stubbornly, disposing of the condom and buttoning the man's jeans again.
"I could make it worth your while, little boy."
Remy turned away, trying to hide his loathing. "You'd better get outa here now."
"I'll be back next week!"
The door closed behind him and Remy rushed toward the bathroom, vigorously brushing his teeth to rid himself of the rubber taste in his mouth. Staring at his reflection in the mirror, he took off the sunglasses and cringed. He didn't sleep that well and large circles had formed under his eyes. He had also lost weight these last three months. They didn't always have enough money to buy food and Philippe needed most of their money to buy crack.
His world had collapsed when he had found out that Philippe was a crack addict. So far he'd managed to stay away from drugs, but he was crumbling, searching for something to make this miserable life bearable.
"Remy?" Philippe slowly entered the bathroom, staring at the boy's reflection. He cringed, recalling how Remy had looked when they had first met. The boy was going downhill, fast, and it was his fault! But I don't have a choice! We need the money!
Remy put his sunglasses back on and turned around. "You got anot'er one?"
"No, no more johns..." Philippe sat down on the cold bathroom floor and motioned Remy to join him. The boy sat opposite him; the trusting expression gone. They knew they needed each other to survive.
"Want some crack?" Philippe uncovered a syringe and showed it to Remy. "It'll make you feel good. I'll even inject it for you."
"Non," Remy declined, rising from the floor and moving into the bedroom where he collapsed on the bed. "I wanna sleep."
"Sure, Remy, sure." Philippe followed him, sat down on the side of the bed and stroked the long hair. "I'll bring a john home tonight..."
"Why are you tellin' me?"
"He offered to pay five hundred dollars if I let him fuck you." Philippe felt the tiny body tense beneath his fingers. "You're a virgin, Remy, you'd better take the money and benefit from it before someone takes it away from you."
Remy shook his head. "I don' wanna."
"You'd better get it over with, Remy. You know as well as I do that they're paying less for a blowjob these days. You'll have to sell your ass one of these days anyway." Philippe stared at the syringe. He was going to use it to shoot Remy up in a few minutes. The kid might have said no, but surely meant yes. "It doesn't matter where you go, Remy, they'll all want the same thing, your mouth or your ass."
Too emotionally drained to argue, Remy remained motionless. In a few hours Philippe would bring the john here and he'd give up his last bit of dignity. I can go back to de Antiquary... Life wasn' dat bad wit' him, was it?
His eyes flashed open and the sunglasses fell onto the floor when something sharp slipped beneath his skin. Looking at his right arm, he froze. "Philippe, non!" But the older boy was injecting the dope into his arm and he felt paralyzed, unable to pull away. "Non!"
"This way it won't hurt so bad," Philippe said soothingly, while stroking Remy's hair. "It'll take the edge off the pain."
Tears flowed down Remy's face as warmth moved through his body. "Non..." he whispered, defeated. "Non..."
///
Hugo grinned as Philippe led him upstairs to the boys' room. It had taken him a lot of time and money to convince the young hustler to let him have Remy. Philippe had objected at first, but a thousand dollar was too much money to refuse and Philippe had finally accepted.
"Use a condom," Philippe said emotionlessly. "You don't wanna catch any STD's from the kid."
Hugo shrugged, but accepted the condom. "Don't disturb me, remember, his ass is mine for the next two hours."
"The money," Philippe said in an icy tone. Hugo handed him an envelope and Philippe counted it. "It's all there," he said, pleased. Glancing at the door, he knew he was selling Remy behind his back, but he couldn't turn down the money. "Have a great time and remember, he's a virgin."
"That's why I'm paying extra!" Hugo opened the door and stepped inside.
///
Remy felt a little nauseous and his head was pounding, but the crack was losing its effect. Maybe it had something to do with being a mutant, but he was grateful that he wasn't turning into a zombie like the druggies on the street.
Suddenly, the door opened and a man stepped inside. "Who are you?" Then Philippe's words returned to him; his friend had sold his ass for five hundred bucks. Staring at the bulky man, he realized there was no way out. He couldn't outsmart the john.
Hugo licked his lips. "You shouldn't trust your friends, kid." He walked towards the bed. With one fluid movement he pulled back the blanket.
Remy shivered, realizing he was naked. Philippe must have undressed him while the drugs were working their way through his body.
"I already paid your pimp..."
My pimp... Remy sighed; the man was right. Philippe was now his pimp.
"My name's Hugo," he continued. "I know it's your first time... it will hurt like hell."
The vile grin on Hugo's face made Remy freeze. "Don' hurt me, m'sieur. I can make it bon for you..." Resigned to his fate and weakened by the drugs, he lay on his back and spread his legs. He might not have done this before, but he had watched Philippe getting fucked by their johns.
Hugo's hands moved over Remy's body, rolling a nipple that refused to grow hard between his fingertips. "Oh, yeah, I'm gonna be the first to fuck that little hole."
Remy shivered and bit his bottom lip until it bled. Please, let him finish quickly! Suddenly, Hugo rolled him onto his stomach and pulled him up onto all fours. Remy bowed his head and tried to mentally prepare himself for the act that would follow. Hugo pushed his face into the pillows and they muffled his sobs as the man positioned himself against his entrance, ramming inside and tearing him up. I can' do dis... After the first thrust, Remy lost consciousness.
///
"I want my money back!" Hugo slammed his fist into the wall. "He passed out while I was fucking him!"
"You fucked him! I lived up to my part of the deal!" Philippe flinched, disgusted by what he had done. "Leave him the hell alone, he's just a little kid!" He should have known better, should have protected Remy, but the thousand dollars had been too tempting.
"Give me my money back!" Hugo punched Philippe in the face and the boy went down. More punches and kicks followed and Philippe brought up his arms, trying to shield his face. The beating continued for several minutes, then Hugo reached inside Philippe's coat and retrieved the thousand dollars. "Crack addicts..." he spat and left the building, whistling a merry tune.
Philippe listened to the footfalls and then opened his eyes. His side was throbbing and blood dripped down his bottom lip. When he tried to move, an indescribable pain seared through his side, settling in his abdomen. Remy, I have to check on Remy!
Gathering his strength, he struggled to his feet and used the wall to support himself as he shuffled toward their room. The door was still ajar and he made out a tiny form on the bed, curled up and shivering. Oh, Remy, I'm so sorry.
Collapsing to his knees, he crawled the last few feet and laid his head on the side of the bed, studying Remy. "Remy, wake up, Remy!" The boy stirred, but his eyes remained closed.
"Remy, I'm so sorry... Remy, I need a doctor..." Remy moved slightly and Philippe saw the blood, clinging to his thighs. "So sorry, Remy... so sorry."
Resting his head on the bed, he closed his eyes. His hands, which had been clawing at his stomach, relaxed and dropped onto the floor. Releasing his last breath, he wished he had made fewer mistakes in his miserable life.///
Remy woke up because he was cold. Someone forgot to close de door... It took a lot of effort to open his eyes, but when he did, he stared into Philippe's dead eyes. "Mon Dieu, non!" Frozen, he continued to stare into the vacant eyes. He can' be dead, Philippe can' be dead, dis ain' happenin', dis ain' happenin'!
Finally, he managed to gather his courage and lifted his right hand, poking Philippe's shoulder. "Philippe? Wake up, it's cold in here, close de door, mon ami."
But Philippe remained motionless and Remy finally realized that his friend was dead. Was it an overdose? I 'ways told him de dope would kill him. His arm itched and suddenly he remembered... Non, he shot me up as well!
Panting hard, the rest of the memories washed over him; Philippe had sold his ass to Hugo, who had grinned at the prospect of inflicting pain on him. Fortunately, he had passed out during the act.
Elbowing himself into a sitting position, he stared at the corpse; Philippe's face was relaxed in death and he envied the peace his friend had found.
Shivering from the cold, he pulled up the blanket and started to sob softly. What do I do now? Philippe's dead, I don' have any money and I can' do dis any more. His stomach contracted, remembering Hugo's hands traveling all over his body and then... it had hurt. Sobbing, he struggled to get to his feet, but collapsed next to the bed, beside Philippe's cooling body.Jerking away from the corps, he crawled to the bathroom on all fours, turning on the shower and climbed into it. Curled up, he remained there until the water turned cold, jolting him back to reality. Need to find some clot'es... need to put on some clot'es...
Feeling numb inside, he moved instinctively and slipped into some jeans and the brown sweater Marie had given him months ago. Standing in the center of the room, he stared at the debris of his life; Philippe, a few dollar bills, a syringe and a sandwich.
I can' live like dis any more... it's over. Shuffling his feet, he managed to get to the doorway where he dropped to his knees. He crawled downstairs and pulled himself back on to his feet. It was still raining outside, but that didn't faze him and he started for the street.
Bourbon Street... I should never have come here... should have stayed wit' de Antiquary instead. Should have let him drain me. At least I was warm dere and I didn' have to get everyone off to stay 'live. Should I go back and beg him to take me in 'gain? I have rien left to lose...
Walking down the street, he began to feel more alert, the rain wiping the numbness from his mind. The sun was setting and the hustlers and pickpockets were trying to make some money. And I need money... mais I'm no longer sellin' myself.
The loneliness, the emptiness in his soul remained, gaining a place of its own and mechanically he started for a man in a long black coat. The man was a fool; his wallet was showing and it would be easy to pick his pocket. Then he would have some money and he could buy food, maybe even some drugs to alleviate the pain in his lower body.
Moving soundlessly, he approached his target and reached for the wallet, but then the man's hand grabbed his wrist, pulling him around. "Non, lemme go!" he yelled, kicking and screaming, but the man's hold remained firm.
"Tryin' to pick my pocket, petit?" The man turned around, a grin already visible on his face, but it froze when their eyes met. "You?"
Remy's eyes narrowed; he had seen that face before, the dark eyes, the fierce moustache and he knew that voice... "De Antiquary..." The memories flashed in his mind. This man was a friend of the Antiquary's! Struggling even harder, he gasped in pain when his stomach objected and his wrist snapped.
"Noir," Jean-Luc LeBeau whispered, shocked, recognizing the baby he had stolen almost ten years ago. The boy suddenly stopped fighting him and went limp, collapsing in his arms. "I finally found you, petit."
Cringing, Jean-Luc took in the boy's haggard expression and realized he couldn't waste any time. The boy needed a doctor! "I'll take care of you, petit... I promise." He hurried toward his car and placed the boy on the back seat, holding him close. After telling the driver to head home and alert Mattie and their family doctor, he cradled the boy against his chest, rocking him softly.
Chapter Four - Jean-Luc LeBeau
"Jean?" Mattie stared at the small boy in disbelief. "What did you bring home dis time?"
"A very special chile, Mattie." He'd never told anyone about the baby he'd stolen and he had to come up with a believable story where Mattie was concerned. She wouldn't rest until she knew the truth, or what was acceptable as the truth. "Prepare de guest room on de ground floor. I don' want him climbin' any stairs for now."
Mattie nodded her head. "Does de boy have a name?"
"Noir will have to do for now."
"Noir?" Mattie raised an eyebrow. "Does he belon' to the Antiquary's Velvet Ministry?"
"He did, until some time ago."
Mattie suddenly realized what was going on. "Dis is de boy you wanted to help escape?"
"Oui and I lost track of him." Jean-Luc carried the boy into the guestroom and placed him on the bed. "Check on him, Mattie. Olivier will arrive shortly and I want him to examine de boy as well." Olivier was their family doctor and the only physician Jean-Luc trusted. "Where's Henri?"
"He left town on Guild matters and will be back in a few days." Mattie sighed. "We should undress him first. Dose dirty and wet clothes will do him no good."
Jean-Luc pulled the boy into a sitting position and helped Mattie to take off his sweater. "Mon Dieu..." The boy's ribs showed and Jean-Luc also noticed the needle mark that was showing signs of infection. "He's on drugs."
Mattie worked methodically and unzipped the boy's jeans, removing the underwear as well. Seeing the blood and bruising on his buttocks and thighs, she frowned. "Jean? Dis boy was raped."
Jean-Luc's eyes grew big. I should never have stolen you from de hospital.
"We're gonna give him a bath, deal wit' de infection and see if we can find some soothin' ointment." Mattie grabbed a few towels and headed for the bath tub. After turning on the water, she waited until the tub was full of steamy, warm water. "Jean, put him in de bat' tub."
Jean-Luc lifted the boy carefully and carried him into the bathroom where he lowered his charge into the bath tub. Shocked, he stared at the droplets of blood that now clung to his vest. "He's bleedin'... down dere." He didn't know how else to say it. This was a child! No child should have to endure rape!
"De petit is badly hurt," Mattie whispered, while washing the boy's bruised body. "Tell Olivier to hurry."
Jean-Luc left the room, told his trusted second in command Marcus to contact Olivier and to tell the doctor to hurry up. "Mattie, is dere anythin' I can do?"
Mattie was softly humming a tune, stroking the boy's hair. She tried to radiate as much calm and reassurance as she could. "He's special, Jean, you're right 'bout dat."
"What are you sensin', Mattie?" He had chosen Mattie as his confidant for many reasons. One of them being that she had telepathic abilities. She could tell his friends from his enemies.
"His mind... he's... sensitive, mais he's too young..." Mattie smiled as the boy stirred in the water. "Hand me dose towels, Jean, and push back de covers of de bed."
Jean-Luc obeyed and helped Mattie dry the boy's skin. After wrapping a towel around his wet hair, he carried the boy back to the bed and laid him down, covering him with soft blankets. "At least he's safe now."
"How did you find him?" Mattie nodded gratefully as Marcus handed her a first aid kit. She cleaned the wound the needle had left behind and put a bandage over it. Then she turned her attention to his right wrist. "It's broken," she whispered and bandaged it firmly; it would need a cast later.
Suddenly the door opened and a young man marched inside. He was dressed in a gray suit and wore a pair of glasses in a dark frame. "What's going on?"
"Olivier, I need you to examine him." Jean-Luc watched as Olivier and Mattie worked on the boy.
"He was raped, Jean, and he's using drugs," Olivier muttered beneath his breath after examining his new patient. "Are you sure you want to take a street rat in to your home?"
"Oui, I'm sure." Jean-Luc cringed as Olivier gently moved the boy onto his side to examine his lower body.
Olivier put on a rubber glove and carefully eased inside the torn rectum. The boy moaned and twitched, trying to get away from the invasive fingertip. "Someone tore him up, Jean." Olivier stared his friend. "Don't tell me you did this."
"Non, I didn'," Jean-Luc said quickly. "I found him on de streets." Dazedly, he stared as Mattie held the boy in place while Olivier pushed some antibiotic cream into the boy's abused passage. "He will heal, won' he?"
"It's a bit early to tell, Jean." Olivier disposed of the glove. "I'm going to check on him again in twenty-four hours and hopefully the bleeding will have stopped by then, otherwise I have to put in stitches."
"His wrist is broken as well," Mattie pointed out to Olivier.
"Anything else?" Olivier couldn't believe the amount of damage done to this boy.
"What 'bout de drugs? Will he be going through withdrawal?" Jean-Luc already feared the answer.
Olivier took some blood samples and studied the boy. "We'll have to wait and see, Jean. I have to get the lab results back from his blood and then... we'll have to see what happens when he wakes up."
Jean-Luc nodded his head. "What do we do while we're waitin'?"
"Keep him warm," Olivier instructed. "Try to get some fluids into him, water, orange juice, herbal tea, whatever works is fine."
"I'll take good care of him," Mattie promised. Tucking the blankets around the boy she began humming again, stroking his hair in a soothing manner.
Jean-Luc barely managed to fight back his tears. My fault... It's my fault dat he's dis way... I can never make things up to him...
///
He was floating on a warm, soft cloud, which cradled his body perfectly. Although the pain was still there, it was bearable and Remy was even tempted to open his eyes while trying to remember what had happened last.
Hugo tried to rape me and succeeded, jugin' by de pain... den I found Philippe, dead, and ran onto de streets... tried to pick dis man's pocket, mais he's a friend of de Antiquary. I'm back wi' de old man?
The only way to get an answer was to open his eyes. Well, his right eye opened, his left refused to obey. He stared at soft curtains, beige wallpaper and he was lying in a big four poster bed. Non, this wasn't his room at the Antiquary's.
He quickly closed his eye again, hearing voices in the distance. Male voices, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. What's de matter wit' you? Get up and run 'fore de can catch up wit' you! But his body refused to co-operate and something heavy pulled down his right wrist and he lacked the strength to try again.
Feeling scared and lost, he panicked. His body tensed, then relaxed again when one voice seemed to grow more distant, then tensed again, hearing footfalls approach. He was on the verge of hyperventilating as the door opened and a stranger stepped inside. "Non..." he whimpered scared and...
He was peeing in the bed! Non, he hadn't wet himself since he was a little kid and the Antiquary had rubbed his nose in his urine to make sure he'd never do it again! "Non..."Jean-Luc hurried to the boy's side, smelling a pungent odor. "C'est bien, petit, happens to all of us, oui?" The boy was curled up on his left side and a damp spot was spreading on the blanket. Merde, now he had to clean up the child! Not that he minded doing the dirty work, but he worried how the boy would react to his touch. "Lemme help, Noir?"
"Non, not Noir! Name's Remy, not Noir, never Noir!" Remy hid deeper beneath the blanket, blocking out the stench. "Not Noir, not Noir, Remy..." His voice shook and he tried to regulate his too fast breathing. Was he in trouble now?
Jean-Luc recovered quickly. "Mais, oui, Remy it is. Remy? We need to clean you up. You had a petit accident." Uncertain how to proceed, he kneeled beside the bed and slowly peeled off the layers of blankets that hid Remy from view. Remy was pinching his eyes tightly shut. "It's bien, petit. I know 'bout your eyes. Dey don' frighten me. Look at me?"
Remy hesitantly opened his eyes, but remained silent. Oui, this was the same man he had seen at the Antiquary's home a few months ago. Can' trust him; he'll take me back... Please don' call me Noir, m'sieur, but he didn't dare speak the words aloud. Feeling ashamed and stupid for wetting himself, he averted his eyes and waited for the man to take the initiative.
"Remy?" Jean-Luc smiled approvingly at the name; he really liked it a lot better than Noir. "I need to clean you up, remember? Why don' we do dat in de bat'room?" Not getting an answer, Jean-Luc eventually pushed back the damp blankets and found that Remy had not only peed, but had had a bowel movement as well. The bloody diarrhea told him that the boy hadn't healed up inside yet and that probably meant that Olivier needed to put in stitches after all. Olivier and Mattie were downstairs in his private medical facility, working on the blood samples and setting up a treatment plan.
When the man reached for him, Remy flinched back, trying to avoid the touch. He knew his panic showed on his face, but he couldn't repress the pain and fear that knotted his stomach. I'm a stupid bébé, can' even hold until I can go to de bat'room...
Jean-Luc stared at the abused body and drew in a deep steadying breath. Mattie and Olivier had decided against putting Remy in warm clothes because they wanted quick access and now he understood why. Remy was shrinking away from him and Jean-Luc tried to reassure the child, while wrapping his arms around him.
"Remy? It was a petit accident. You're not feelin' well, so it's okay when you have accidents. I will just clean you up, put clean sheets and blankets on de bed and den you can go back to sleep, oui?"
Frustrated that Remy still wasn't responding, Jean-Luc lifted him in his arms and carried him into the bathroom, where he sat him down on the toilet. Remy swayed briefly, but then seemed to steady himself.
Remy closely followed every move the man made and cringed, feeling the urge to pee again. Unable to hold it, he peed and tears flowed down his face. What was happening to him?
Jean-Luc had wet a washcloth and wiped the cold sweat from Remy's brow. "You're un peu ill, Remy, mais it will get betta, trust me, petit." Jean-Luc held Remy's eyes when his hand moved lower to clean the boy's groin area.
Remy bit his bottom lip until it bled and closed his eyes. Now that the man was touching him, ugly memories returned and he almost bolted from the bathroom, but he was too exhausted to move.
"Remy, I've got to do your backside as well," Jean-Luc said softly and turned the boy around. "It still hurts, non, petit?"
But Remy didn't react. He wasn't going to give away his weaknesses. Although he had completely tensed up due to his fear, he had to admit it felt good to have his butt cleaned. Peeking at the man kneeling in front of him, he realized the stranger was using baby wipes to clean his butt! It almost made him laugh, almost.
Jean-Luc closely monitored Remy's reaction and was relieved when the boy didn't try to get away from him. He collected clean underwear from the pile of clothes Mattie had assembled before leaving with Olivier, claiming that the boy would need clean clothes at least once a day and she had been right. Bless Mattie for knowing what to do!
Remy was surprised when the man helped him to step into some briefs and finally he dared to meet he stranger's eyes. Their eyes met, and he quickly looked away again, scared of what he would find in those dark orbs.
Jean-Luc considered letting Remy walk back instead of carrying him, but wasn't sure the boy could stay on his feet, so he swept him up into his arms anyway. Remy released a surprised yelp. "I'm gonna put you in de chair while I put some clean sheets on de bed," Jean-Luc told Remy, wanting the boy to know his intentions.
Remy flushed when Jean-Luc placed him in the armchair. Sitting upright was putting pressure on his bottom and he moaned in pain, but remained sitting straight nonetheless. He didn't want to anger the man, unsure how the stranger would react.
Jean-Luc wasn't good at making small talk, but he tried anyway. "My name's Jean-Luc LeBeau and I brought you home after you tried to pick my pocket."
Remy tried to make himself as small as possible, but his bottom hurt and he slumped to the right until he was lying down. Why hadn't the man, Jean-Luc, called the police or alerted the Antiquary? Why was he at the man's home?
Jean-Luc removed the damp sheet and blanket, put on clean ones and returned to Remy, who was clutching his stomach with his left hand. "You're probably wonderin' what happened after we met." Jean-Luc lifted Remy in his arms and tucked him back into bed. "We put your right wrist in a cast 'cause it was broken and... Are you doin' drugs, petit?"
Drugs? Flashes of Philippe injected the dope washed over him and he shook his head. With tremendous effort he managed an answer. "He made me... only once..." For some reason it was important to him that Jean-Luc knew the truth; that he wasn't a drug addict.
"I'm glad to hear dat," Jean Luc whispered, and smiled. "Remy, we need to talk, oui?"
But Remy's eyes were slipping shut again. The bed was too warm and too comfortable to not fall asleep. He did manage a nod, however.
"Remy, you were raped, oui?" Jean-Luc's heart sped up, seeing the alien eyes flash open in fear and remembered pain. "Oui, I know you were raped, mais... you're still bleedin'... you might need stitches."
Inaudible words stumbled from Remy's lips while staring at Jean-Luc. Were they going to hurt him all over again? Did the nightmare never end?
"I asked my personal doctor to take care of you, Remy. Olivier will look after you, don' be scared." Suddenly, he remembered the doctor's advice. "Wanna drink somethin'? I got some freshly pressed orange juice." He sat down on the side of the bed and picked up the glass, noticing Remy's hungry stare. He was stunned when the boy shook his head, indicating he didn't want to drink. "Mais petit, you're dehydrated!"
But no, he couldn't drink anything! What if he wet himself again? For some reason he didn't have any control over his lower body and he wanted to avoid creating another mess Jean-Luc would have to clean up. Although he craved the orange juice, he had to decline.
But Jean-Luc realized the truth. "Don' worry 'bout peein' in bed 'gain, petit. We'll clean you up, dat's no big deal. Jus' drink... please?" Jean-Luc placed the glass at Remy's lips and the boy sipped slowly.
"Finish it, petit, you need de fluids." Jean-Luc held the boy tight, feeling shivers rack Remy's body. "Now dat's a good boy," he said, while helping Remy lie down again. "Go back to sleep, petit." If everything went to plan, Olivier would return in a few minutes, give the boy a sedative so Remy slept through the surgery. He was sure Remy wouldn't want to be awake when Olivier examined his abused rectum and put in the stitches.
Remy's eyes remained locked on Jean-Luc. Why was the man helping him? Or did he have ulterior motives like nursing him back to health and then hand him over to the Antiquary? Or did the man want his ass for himself?
"Sleep, petit, I promise everythin' will be bon in de end." Jean-Luc absentmindedly stroked Remy's auburn hair and listened as the boy's breathing evened out, indicating he had fallen asleep. Burying his head in his hands, Jean-Luc stared at the bundle of misery in front of him. He was to blame for the boy's misery. This was all his fault!
"Jean? We're ready to work on him." Olivier entered the room and rested a hand on his friend's shoulder. "What aren't you telling me? Who raped him?"
"I don' know, I don' t'ink even Remy does. Olivier, dis chile is very precious to me... I want him whole and healed."
"I can't make that promise," Olivier said thoughtfully. "The boy has been traumatized and has a long road of recovery ahead of him. He'll need a friend though." Olivier pushed back the blankets and removed the briefs Jean-Luc had just put on the boy. "I need to stop the bleeding and repair the tears."
Jean-Luc nodded his head. "Mais I will carry him."
Olivier didn't object, noticing that Jean-Luc's vest already sported stains of blood. "Then let's do this. Mattie will assist me."
They headed downstairs where Mattie was already waiting for them. Jean-Luc placed Remy on the exam table and caressed the auburn hair one more time. "Be careful, be gentle."
Mattie smiled reassuringly. "You know we will, Jean."
Jean nodded his head, realized he was keeping them from their job and left to pace the corridor, waiting for the word that everything had gone well and that he could take Remy back to his room. I'll try to make things up to you, I promise, petit.
///
"Everything went well," Olivier informed Jean-Luc as he placed his patient back in the big four poster bed. "I hooked him up to an IV because he needs fluids."
"When will he wake up 'gain?" Jean-Luc asked, as Mattie covered the boy with warm blankets.
"In a few hours' time, Jean. He's exhausted and I want him to catch up on his sleep. There might be some nightmares," Olivier warned Jean-Luc.
"What do I do?" Jean-Luc pulled the armchair closer to the bed and sat down, studying Remy's face.
Olivier licked his lips. "I don't know if he'll allow you to touch him. He might suffer flashbacks from the rape and who knows what other things he was subjected to in his young life. You need to be patient."
"Jean and I will take turns sittin' wit' de chile," Mattie said, smiling at Jean-Luc. "He'll heal."
"I hope so." Jean-Luc took Remy's left hand in his, stroking the cold skin, but stayed clear of the IV needle.
"I suggest you ask your cook to prepare some soup. Chicken noodle soup is usually the patient's favorite." Olivier checked Remy's vital signs again. "And he'll probably have trouble going to the bathroom for a time. His organs are a bit bruised and he doesn't have any bowel control."
"We'll clean him up when he has an accident," Jean-Luc assured Olivier.
"I'll stay in close contact," Olivier said, while slipping back into his coat. "Make sure he rests, eats and drinks. He's young and should make a full recovery. Also try to find him a good councilor, Jean, he'll need help to deal with the rape."
Jean-Luc nodded his head. "I'll look into it."
Mattie walked Olivier to the front door, but Jean-Luc remained at Remy's side. The boy moved slightly, searching for a more comfortable position and moaned softly. Jean-Luc stroked the soft skin of Remy's face, staying clear of any bruises and sighed deeply. "Remy, I know you can' hear me, mais I wanna promise you somethin'. From dis day on you're my chile, mon fils..."
///
He was hurting, but the pain wasn't as bad as it used to be. Remy even tried to stretch, but froze as pain rose from his lower body, climbing to his stomach.
"Don' move, petit. You jus' had surgery."
The woman's voice surprised him and he opened his eyes to find out who was talking to him. "Oh..." fled his lips, seeing the shiny beads in the woman's dark hair. The beads reflected the sunlight and sent sparkles through the room.
"Bonjour, petit, I'm tante..." She smiled and brushed a few stray locks of hair from his face. "You're Remy, oui?"
He nodded his head; unable to speak. Her dark eyes laughed at him and she radiated peace and warmth, two things which he had never experienced before. I like her... Mon Dieu, I like her.
"I made you some chicken noodle soup," Mattie announced. "De doctor recommended it."
Remy's nose twitched, smelling the delicious fragrance. His stomach growled and he averted his eyes.
"You need to sit up first..." Mattie collected two pillows from the small couch in the corner of the room and helped Remy lean forward while pushing the pillows behind his back. "Bien?" She helped him lie back and studied his eyes. The boy seemed content.
Remy nodded his head once and watched as the bowl, filled with hot soup, came into view. He tried to reach out and grab it, but stared at the heavy cast around his right wrist. When had that happened?
Mattie smiled, took hold of the spoon and leaned in closer. "Open up, petit. I made dis soup myself so you'd betta like it!" she teased.
Remy swallowed the first spoonful eagerly, but then froze. What if he peed in his bed again?
"Eat, chile. I'll help you visit de bathroom after you emptied de soup. Don' worry 'bout a thing, bien?"
Remy blushed, ashamed that she had guessed his thoughts. He swallowed the rest of the soup obediently, watching her closely.
"You like ol' Mattie Baptiste, non?" She laughed warmly and put the empty bowl onto the nightstand. "Wanna visit de bat'room now?"
He didn't want to leave the warm bed, but nodded his head nonetheless. He would die of embarrassment if he peed in bed again! Mattie pushed down the blankets and he tried to rise from the bed, but his eyes grew big, and he clutched his stomach in pain.
"I know it hurts, petit, mais it'll get betta," she promised and helped him to his feet. Slowly, she guided him into the bathroom. "Want tante to help you pee?"
Remy shook his head. He could manage himself! Thankfully, tante stepped outside and after struggling to push down his briefs, he sat down on the toilet, relieving himself.
"Petit? Are you done? I'm comin' back inside."
Remy quickly pulled his briefs back in place and tried to rise to his feet, but vertigo made him sway.
"Don' worry, tante's got you." Mattie smiled. "You done here?"
Remy nodded his head and allowed her to support him back to the bed where he collapsed amidst the pillows and hiding beneath the blankets. Closing his eyes, he wondered why he felt this tired, but as he dozed off, he only felt pleasantly warm.
///
"How's de petit doin'?" Jean-Luc had slept several hours and was now ready to relieve Mattie. It was his time to sit with Remy.
"He's eaten some soup," Mattie informed him as she got to her feet. "He's been sleepin' for de last few hours, mais I can feel him wakin' up 'ready." At times like these, her telepathy came in handy. "Try to win his trust, Jean. He needs a père more dan anythin'."
"I'll try," Jean-Luc vowed. "What 'bout..."
"His stitches? Olivier checked on him one hour ago and Remy's doin' bien. He needs rest and food."
"Olivier was here and I didn' notice?"
"We let you sleep, figurin' you needed it," Mattie teased, knowing darn well that Jean-Luc would sit with the boy for the next twelve hours. "I'm gonna catch up on my beauty sleep."
Mattie left the room and Jean-Luc took his place at the boy's side.
///
Hugo was back in his room, chasing him, throwing him down on the bed and... "Arrgghh," Remy screamed, tried to sit upright, but cringed as a now familiar pain assaulted him. His eyes searched the dimly lit room, and he felt thankful for his unholy eyes, enabling him to see in the dark. A man... a man rose from a chair and approached him. I've got to get 'way from him!
He crawled on all fours, fell off of the bed and landed hard on the floor. The man hovered above him, was talking to him, but the words made no sense and he tried to put more distance between them. "Don' touch! Don' touch!"
Shocked, Jean-Luc stared at Remy, who was huddled in the corner, motionless and eyeing him with big, burning orbs. "Petit, Remy, you're safe. You're at my home... Petit, do you hear me?" He sat on his heels in front of the boy, following Olivier's advice to not touch Remy. "Why don' you lie back down in your bed? You must be cold here on de floor." Mon Dieu, what if Remy had pulled his stitches and was bleeding again? Why wasn't Mattie here to soothe the boy?
Jean-Luc's words chased away the memories and Remy suddenly recognized the man who was taking care of him. Eyeing Jean-Luc, he tried to form a sentence, a plea to leave him alone, but his lips were frozen. He raised his left hand instead, trying to place it against Jean-Luc's chest, but misjudged the distance and it dropped to the floor. "M'sieur, are you real?"
Jean-Luc smiled. Remy was finally talking; the boy's silence had worried him. "Oui, I'm real. I'm Jean-Luc LeBeau," he repeated. "And you're my guest."
Remy looked about, remembering the room from the last few times he had woken up. "Dis your bedroom?"
"Non, it's one of de guest rooms." Jean-Luc carefully planned his next move. "Are you cold, petit?"
"Oui." Dazedly, Remy tried to recall why he was sitting on the floor.
"You had a nightmare..." Jean-Luc reminded him. He was tempted to put his arms around Remy, but knew it would only terrify the boy so he kept his distance instead.
"Oui, Hugo was chasin' me..." Remy licked his lips. The cold was penetrating his bones and he managed to push himself to his feet by using the wall to support himself.
"Who's Hugo?" Jean-Luc moved as well, ready to catch Remy in case the boy fainted.
"He paid five-hundred dollars for my ass." Remy collapsed on the bed, hoping Jean-Luc would stay at a distance; he couldn't stand anyone's touch right now. Squirming, he managed to pull the blankets up to his shoulders.
"Hugo..." Jean-Luc filed the name away for later when he would try to hunt the bastard down. "Remy?" He sat down again and found that the boy was still staring at him. "What do you remember?"
"Everyt'in'," Remy whispered. "You gonna hand me over to de Antiquary?"
"Non," Jean-Luc quickly assured him. "I want you to stay here wit' Mattie and me."
"I like Mattie," Remy admitted, shyly. His mouth was growing dry and there was some orange juice in the glass sitting on the nightstand.
Jean-Luc followed Remy's glance and picked up the glass, encouraging Remy to drink. The boy emptied the glass and Jean-Luc wondered what to say next now that Remy was talking to him. "You're welcome here, petit."
"Merci..." Remy privately wondered about Jean-Luc's price. Well, he would find out in time. Maybe he had only escaped Hugo to fall prey to this man.
"Remy..." Jean-Luc suddenly grew speechless. Now that the boy was awake, he didn't know what to say. "Is dere anythin' I can do?"
Remy nodded his head; he could worry about the price later. "Bury Philippe."
Jean-Luc frowned. "Who's Philippe?"
"We were livin' together." Remy briefly closed his eyes. "When I woke up Philippe was dead. Would you pay for a decent funeral? I don' have de money to pay for it, mais I can work it off."
You're offerin' yourself to me so I'll pay for your friend's funeral? Mon Dieu! "Do you have an address?"
"We lived at 14 Canal Street, m'sieur. Top floor. De cops probably found him 'ready, mais... he helped me... please, m'sieur?" He couldn't bear the thought of Philippe not getting a final resting place, being cremated instead and his ashes scattered; but what if they had already cremated the body?
Jean-Luc watched Remy sob softly and briefly stepped outside to talk to one of his men, who promised to take care of the matter. When Jean-Luc returned to Remy's side, the boy was silent again and had wiped the tears from his eyes. "Philippe will get a decent funeral," he promised."Merci, m'sieur. I'll pay you back somehow..." Exhausted, Remy's eyes met Jean-Luc's. "I'll pay your price, m'sieur."
"Dere's no price," Jean-Luc assured him, but caught the shivers that washed over the boy's body. "Why don' you go back to sleep, petit?"
"Don' wanna face de nightmares 'gain, m'sieur..." Remy shifted in the bed. "Why am I still hurtin'... down dere?"
"We had to put in stitches," Jean-Luc reminded him. "You'll feel sore for a few days, Remy."
Remy stared at the ceiling. "Dere are angels on de ceilin'," he whispered, surprised.
Jean-Luc smiled. "Oui. Do you like lookin' at dem?"
"Dey seem so happy," Remy mumbled, cocking his head. "Dey are laughin'... and dey're fat."
Jean-Luc laughed warmly. "Oui, dey're fat... and you're too skinny, petit. You need to put on some weight... wanna eat somethin'?"
Remy wondered if he had misunderstood. "Jus' had some chicken noodle soup." He had never eaten this much before.
"Do you like croissants, Remy?"
"Oui, mais..." He had never had the money to buy them.
"I'll back in a few seconds," Jean-Luc announced and headed for the kitchen. When he returned to Remy's room, he proudly presented the full tray to his guest. "Remy?" he whispered the name, then realized the boy was asleep. He put the tray down next to the bed and sat down, determined Remy would eat something when he woke next.
///
Three days later
"Olivier?" Jean-Luc held his breath as his friend examined Remy. Remy was still blissfully asleep and didn't even notice the doctor checking on him.
"He's doing as well as can be expected. Keep feeding him. The boy's too small for his age." Olivier smiled and stepped outside with Jean-Luc. "What about the nightmares?"
"He's had dem frequently dese last three days. He won' let me touch him, mais once he realizes it's me or Mattie he calms down." Three days had passed by since he had found Remy and the boy had slept most of the time.
"He'll want to get up soon and walk around a bit."
"Can he?" Jean-Luc made sure the door was ajar and kept a close eye on Remy.
"Short trips, yes. Does he still complain of a stomach ache?"
"Non, and he's gettin' betta at holdin' it until he reached de bathroom. He's healin'."
Olivier nodded his head, pleased. "I've seldom seen someone recover this quickly. Maybe it's something in his genes, being a mutant?"
"Mebbe," Jean-Luc agreed. "I'm relieved he didn' have to go through withdrawal."
"If he only used Crack once..." Olivier's brow grew knitted. "I still can't believe his friend injected him against his will!"
"And yet he asked me to give Philippe a decent burial."
"Did you do it?"
"Oui." Jean-Luc noticed that Remy was stirring and wanted to return to the boy's side. "When will you check on him 'gain?"
"Tomorrow. I can let myself out. Go, sit with the boy."
Jean-Luc smiled, grateful that his friend understood his need to look after the boy and he returned to Remy's room.
///
Remy opened his eyes and found the chair empty for the first time. Either Mattie or Jean-Luc had been sitting there these last few days. Guess it's over now... dey grew tired lookin' after me...
"Ah, petit, awake again?"
Remy's eyes brightened, seeing Jean-Luc hurry to his bedside. "Oui, m'sieur, and I need to use de bat'room." With Jean-Luc's help he walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He was getting better and could walk short distances... mais I still need help.
He quickly relieved himself, tried to wash his hand, cursed the caste and returned to his room. After settling back down in bed, something hard poked him in his ribs. "A book, m'sieur?" Merde, he couldn't read, but couldn't admit that to Jean-Luc.
"It's 'Sans Famille' by Hector Malot. I thought you might wanna read it as de main character's name is Rémi and de two of you got some things in common." Why wasn't the boy showing more interest in the book? He had thought Remy would welcome the distraction now that he was feeling better but still confined to bed.
Remy cautiously opened the book and stared helplessly at the millions of letters that danced in front of his eyes. He couldn't admit to Jean-Luc that he couldn't read; it would reveal a weakness and he didn't trust the man enough yet to expose himself like that. While flipping the pages awkwardly he found a drawing, showing an old man and a young boy and he wondered why Jean-Luc had brought him the book.
Jean-Luc suddenly realized the boy's problem. He had been so convinced that Remy could read that he had never considered asking before giving him the book. "You can' read, non?"
Remy flinched, embarrassed. "No one ever taught me, m'sieur." He put the book back down on the bed and lowered his eyes, waiting for Jean-Luc's reaction; he had obviously disappointed the man and he couldn't figure out why it meant so much to him to make Jean-Luc proud of him! He barely knew the man!
Jean-Luc felt guilty for making Remy feel ashamed and picked up the book again. "I can teach you how to read and write," he offered.
"Merci, m'sieur, mais I ain' smart 'nough to learn."
Jean-Luc cringed, hearing the self loathing in Remy's tone. "Nonsense, I'll teach you."
"Don' bother, m'sieur. I won' be 'round much longer anyway."
Jean-Luc cast caution to the wind and sat down on the side of Remy's bed, ignoring the nervousness in the alien eyes as he cupped the boy's face in his hand. "You plannin' on leavin', petit?"
"I'm really grateful dat you took care of me, m'sieur, mais I know I can' stay. Dis is a bon home, not meant for street rats like me." One big tear flowed down his cheek. "I'll pay you back, m'sieur, don' know how yet, mais I will."
Jean-Luc took a deep breath to steady himself. He was trembling himself, while trying to radiate calm and reassurance. "You'll stay here, Remy. Forget 'bout leavin'. Don' even think about tryin' to pay me back." How could he convince Remy that his intentions were honest?
"Oui, m'sieur," Remy said, mechanically, but there was one more thing he needed to know. "Philippe?"
Oui, dat's it! Jean-Luc realized his chance. "Wanna visit his grave?"
"Can we?" Remy's eyes grew clouded. Had Jean-Luc kept his promise and given his friend a last resting place?
"Oui, we can." Jean-Luc rose to his feet. He had finally found a way to get through to Remy. "I'll ask Mattie to dress you in warm clothes and den we'll visit Philippe's grave, oui?"
Remy gave him a sad smile. "Oui, m'sieur."
///
"You'd betta listen to Monsieur LeBeau, chile. Don' run off, he'll find you within de hour, understood?" Mattie wrapped a thick scarf around Remy's throat, put a mitten on his left hand and adjusted the sling that supported his broken wrist beneath the thick coat he was wearing.
Remy was feeling warm. Tante had dressed him in a shirt, a sweater, vest, jeans, woolen socks and warm boots. The thick coat reached to his ankles and he had never felt this warm before. "I'll listen to m'sieur LeBeau," he promised tante and took a first tentative step. Relieved that he no longer felt sore, he took another step and another... he was walking on his own and smiled, reaching the front door. He had made it on his own!
"Bravo, petit," Jean-Luc complimented him and then carefully wrapped an arm around Remy, ready to pull back in case the boy flinched away from his touch. But Remy was way too happy to be out of bed and walking again to notice Jean-Luc's closeness.
Remy panted slightly. After being horizontal for the last few days he even felt lightheaded, but welcomed the sensation for it meant that he was getting better.
Jean-Luc guided Remy to the black Sedan and helped him slip into the back seat. He sat down beside the boy and kept a close eye on him. A blush had settled on Remy's cheeks and he didn't know if it was due to excitement or exhaustion. "You must care a great deal for dis Philippe," he started, trying to get Remy to talk.
Remy shrugged his shoulders. "I used to... in de beginnin', when we'd jus' met."
Remy had been remarkably quiet about his escape from the Antiquary's home and Jean-Luc hoped Remy felt comfortable enough to tell him what had happened. "I remember dere was a huge cloud of smoke." He decided against telling Remy just yet that he had instigated the incident.
"Oui, a lot of smoke," Remy said, his thoughts traveling back in time to the day he had escaped. "I had to move quickly and ran 'way, ended up on de streets and... I never knew dere was anot'er life beside de one I had wit' de Antiquary. A cop tried to take me to de hospital, I guess 'cause I looked lost, mais I ran, couldn' trust him, you see. Den I met Philippe. He was a hustler and a drug addict, mais I didn' know dat yet. He took me to a shelter and dere was dis nice lady called Marie. She gave me clean clothes, mais den I overheard her sayin' dat she was gonna contact de Antiquary and I had to run 'gain... I found Philippe and he took me in."
Jean-Luc listened, breathlessly, as Remy finally let everything out. He should have searched harder. "And Philippe took good care of you?"
Remy laughed, embittered. "Non... oui... well, he talked up de johns and I sucked dem off for money... dey told me I got a talented mout'... Philippe needed more dope and I got more johns... He shot me up once and I didn' want to be high, mais he didn' listen..." Remy's breath hitched uncontrollably.
Jean-Luc realized the worst was yet to come. "Remy?"
"Some john offered him five-hundred dollars if Philippe let him fuck me. Philippe was my pimp and he accepted... I was still fightin' off de drugs when he flipped me onto my stomach..." Tears were running down Remy's cheeks and he licked them from his lips.
"I must have passed out and when I woke up 'gain, Philippe was dead... The john probably wanted his money back 'cause I passed out... Dat's when I decided to run 'way 'gain and tried to steal your wallet."
Shocked, Jean-Luc stared at Remy, who had stopped crying. Remy had wrapped one arm around his waist and was rocking hard. "Petit, I'm so sorry," he whispered, wondering how he could help this lost soul.
"Dat's what Philippe said... I t'ink... I remember hearin' him say dat..." Determinedly, Remy wiped away his tears and stared outside. "He was de only friend I had."
Jean-Luc quickly wiped away his own tears, which he had hidden from Remy. Mon Dieu, it's even worse dan I thought. He was alone and tried to survive de only way he could.
"I ain' even sure why I ran 'way. Oui, de Antiquary hurt me as well, mais... I didn' have to sell myself to stay 'live."
"In what way did de Antiquary hurt you?" Jean-Luc wanted to know what had made Remy run away in the first place. "Did he sexually assault you?"
Remy chuckled, coldly. "When Philippe told me about rape, I thought de Antiquary had raped me... In a way de old man did, mais he raped my mind. He invaded my mind, took what he wanted, needed, drained me and..." Remy's voice was devoid of any emotions. "I wanna see Philippe's grave."
Jean-Luc looked outside and realized they had arrived. The car stopped, parked and he opened the door so Remy could get out first. He followed quickly and walked Remy to a newly dug grave in the corner of the cemetery.
Feeling tired, Remy raised his head and looked at the grave. Jean-Luc had even put up a tombstone.
"I only knew his first name," Jean-Luc said apologetically.
"I don' know his last name eit'er," Remy admitted. The tombstone looked empty with only the one name on it. "Can you add somet'in' to de tombstone?" Remy asked in a tiny tone, not wanting to infringe on his generous savior.
"What do you want it to say, Remy?" Jean-Luc sat on his heels and looked into Remy's watering eyes.
"Here lies Philippe," Remy started, searching for the right words... "Non, just put up 'Regrets and forgiveness'. Would you do dat, m'sieur?"
"Mais oui, Remy. We'll come back when de tombstone has been changed, oui?"
"And some flowers for his grave? It looks so... empty... uncared for..." Remy took a few steps away from Jean-Luc and clawed at the earth that covered Philippe's coffin. "Mebbe we can plant some forget-me-nots? I t'ink he would have liked dat."
Remy's form began to crumble and Jean-Luc moved quickly, catching the fainting boy. Visiting Philippe's grave had proved too much for the drained child. He carried Remy back to the car, making a mental note to make the changes Remy had asked for. The next time they visited the grave the words would have been added to the tombstone and forget-me-nots planted on the grave.
Cradling Remy's body in his arms, he slipped into the back seat and told his driver to hurry home.
///
"How's de petit doin?'" Mattie entered the room and came to a stop just behind Jean-Luc, looking at Remy as well.
"He collapsed," Jean-Luc said, thoughtfully. "Mattie, will he recover?"
Mattie stepped in front of him, blocking his view of Remy. "Physically, oui."
"And emotionally?"
"It's hard to say, Jean. He's been hurt so bad..." Mattie caught Jean's eyes. "Can you be a fat'er to him? For de rest of his life? He'll need you so bad."
"I can do dat," Jean-Luc said resolved.
Mattie nodded her head. "Den listen carefully, Jean. De chile has de gift."
"De gift?" Jean-Luc started a little. "Are you tellin' me he's a telepath?"
"Non, not a telepath... but his mind is strong. His mind is special. Use it to get through to him. You'll have to bide your time until his powers reveal demselves."
"What 'bout de Antiquary?"
"I talked to him," Mattie revealed. "He still wants de chile back, but is too weak to cross you right now. Be 'ware of de snake, Jean, or he'll take de chile 'way from you."
"I'll guard Remy." Jean-Luc stroked the soft hair and smiled. "Welcome home, mon fils."