Title: Insanity

Author: Morgana (morganalebeau@yahoo.com)

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

Rating: NC-17

Pairing/main characters: Gambit/Cyclops

Series/Sequel: sequel to Shadows

Summary: As months pass by the team settles back into their routine, but Creed's still lurking and plans on using Remy to control his urges. When Remy faces insanity, Scott begins to realize his attraction to the Cajun.

Disclaimer: Marvel's...

Date: March 2002

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Insanity 1 - Hugo

By Morgana

 

Remy stared out over the lake, wondering what was keeping him here. Scott had moved out of the boathouse six months before and was doing fine. At times, Scott flinched, especially when someone mentioned Jean's name, but Scott had apparently found a way to deal with Jean's death. He was back in charge of the X-Men and was once more leading the team on missions.

A divided team... t'ings will never be like dey were 'fore Antarctica. He stayed away from the mansion as much as possible, 'hiding' at the boathouse. Neither Charles nor Scott had succeeded in reuniting the two groups. Surprisingly enough one person had changed factions. Warren had given him a second chance, which had put the other man in a difficult position. As a result, Betsy and Warren had called it quits. Gotta give him credit. Ange's been tryin' since we talked. And in return, he was trying to be less distrustful of Warren.

"Hey, what are you doing out here?"  Scott walked up to the Cajun and sat down on the grass. It was a beautiful day. The sun shone steadily, warming them, and a cool, refreshing breeze prevented the high temperature from becoming oppressive.

Remy didn't bother to look at Scott, knowing the other man felt at peace. His empathic powers told him that Scott had managed to give Jean a place in his heart and although she was dead, she would always live on in his soul. "Rien... jus' starin' at de water." He didn't feel up to small talk. This was one of those days when he felt melancholy and alone.

"Will you join us for dinner later? Bobby and Hank are preparing dinner."

Remy briefly considered accepting the offer, but... "Rogue and Storm... dey'll be dere too?"

Scott nodded once. "Remy, you can't continue avoiding them. You've got to set things straight, talk to them."

Remy's anger flared. Why am I 'ways de one in de wrong? Why is it always me who has to make amends? Dey made mistakes too, but Storm will never admit she was wrong and Rogue... she's only interested in puttin' me down, especially since Joe ended deir relationship. Wonder why he no longer wants her?

"Remy, are you still with me?" Scott frowned, worried. Lately, Remy had been retreating mentally, even to the point of isolating himself from the others. He still felt slightly guilty for moving out of the boathouse six months ago, but he hadn't had a choice. The team had needed a real leader. Although Storm had assumed leadership, she hadn’t had the right attitude to keep all team-members alive. "Remy?"

"I'm listenin', Scott... jus' tired..." He hadn't slept well these last few months. Although Scott and he had only slept in the same bed for a month, he missed the warm body, and the mind, which had always been close.

"Is something bothering you, Remy? You know you can talk to me." Scott hoped Remy would take the hint and opened up to him. "You helped me when I was feeling depressed, maybe I can do the same thing for you now?"

"You can' help, Cyke." When had Scott changed back into Cyke? Right after Scott had moved back to the mansion. No one could help him. He would never fit in and maybe he should give up on becoming a real member of the team. At times, he felt like the others only tolerated him because he had helped Scott. Oh, he knew he still had friends at the mansion, but the cold hatred that he felt when Rogue was around outweighed the warm, friendly feelings from the others.

Tightening his shields, he managed to lock out Scott's mental presence. Whenever Scott was around, it felt like they were somehow connected, but that was wishful thinking, being fed by his loneliness. It would have felt good to belong, so he pretended he belonged... with Scott. In his daydreams and nightly visions, Scott was always close to him. In his imagination, Scott hadn't moved out of the boathouse and in his dreams they were still sleeping in the same bed, curled up tightly against one another. But right now he couldn't pretend. "You'd best leave me 'lone, Cyke. I'm bad company."

Scott didn't like the direction this conversation was taking. He was determined to force Remy out of his depression. The professor said that Remy needs company, that an empath can go mad from loneliness. I allowed him to slip away. Hopefully it's not too late yet to rectify my mistake.

"Remy, why don't we go out for dinner? Just the two of us? That way we can catch up on recent events. We haven't talked, really talked, in a long time. Six months to be exact." He had never considered what effect his moving out would have on Remy. Maybe he should have stayed at the boathouse a little longer, until Remy had mentally recovered as well. He had been selfish, moving out like that. Once he had felt better, he had deserted the one who had helped him heal.

Remy blinked his eyes. "Don' know, Cyke..." Going out for dinner meant spending time with Scott. It meant paying attention and pretending he was coping. How long could he keep up the front that he was doing fine? He already felt tired; he was suffering from insomnia and he feared slipping back into his fantasies and alienating Scott.

"Come on, Remy. We're going to eat a bite. It's not like I'm asking you to fight Apocalypse." Scott wasn't going to give up easily. Remy's absentminded and haunted expression worried him.

Remy caved in, all resistance dwindling. Spending time with Scott did seem appealing and maybe he wouldn't feel so alone tonight. "Bien, we'll do dinner." Remy rose from the now cold and damp earth and wiped away the grass that clung to his jeans. "Do you wanna go someplace fancy? Do I have to change?"

"Depends on where you want to eat dinner. You pick the place." Scott allowed himself to smile, glad he had achieved this victory.

"Burger King?" Remy shrugged his shoulders. Food held no attraction at all. When had he eaten last? Had he even eaten breakfast? He didn't remember.

"You want greasy? I can do greasy," Scott teased, hoping to do away with the tension between them. That tension hadn't been there six months ago. Remy seemed unapproachable, unreachable and he hoped to connect with the Cajun again, like he had after Jean's death. "You're decent enough to go to Burger King," Scott continued to tease. "Let's take the car and find ourselves a Burger King restaurant." Scott rested his hand on Remy's arm, trying to comfort the Cajun, but the younger man jerked away from his touch. "Remy?" Scott tried to catch Remy's elusive eyes.

"Sorry," Remy offered apologetically. "I don' feel bien..."

The dark circles beneath his eyes had long given him away. Scott nodded his head. "Are you having trouble sleeping?" To his surprise, Remy moved further away from him, increasing the distance between them. What's going on? I know it's been six months since we really talked last, but... Damn, I've been neglecting him. I always thought I was better than the others who mistreated him, but I did the same thing.

"Don' really wanna discuss dat," Remy said evasively. Six months ago he would have told Scott about his insomnia, but the emotional bond had faded while they had been apart. He had let Scott inside once before and he wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. It just showed that Scott was like the others. When they needed him, they used him and then they disposed of him. He was tired of being used; it had to stop.

"Remy, what happened?" Scott forced himself to address the issue. Pretending everything was fine between them wasn't going to work. "You helped me fight my nightmares, helped me sleep and now... where did these barriers come from?"

You left me... For a short while I hoped you'd stay. But he didn't speak the words. He felt honored that he had been the one to help Scott cope with Jean's death and he shouldn't be ungrateful. No one had ever needed him like that before and just remembering sleeping in the same bed with Scott made him feel warm inside. Pat'etic!

"Remy, are you still with me?" They had reached the garage and Scott walked over to the blue BMW parked near the exit. He opened the car door, sat down behind the steering wheel and keyed the ignition. It was a good thing that he kept the keys in the car at all times.

Remy moved slowly as he sat down on the passenger's seat. Being close to Scott, talking to the man, he felt oddly out of place. Was he dreaming again? When had he started having trouble telling reality from fantasy? He buckled up after Scott reminded him to put the seatbelt on and he stared out of the window as Scott set the car in motion. Within a few minutes they had left the mansion grounds. He flinched when they passed the spot where Creed had knocked him unconscious.

Scott saw Remy flinch and his jaw set firmly. Only six months ago I vowed to pay attention to what was happening to Remy and now... Remy shifted on his seat and Scott frowned. Has he lost that much weight? The jeans seem baggy and so does the shirt. But he couldn't say for sure. "So when will you move back to the mansion? It doesn't feel right, knowing you're all alone at the boathouse."

You could have stayed wit' me. No one forced you to move back to de mansion. The bitterness that bubbled up from deep within him surprised Remy. He hadn't known he resented Scott for leaving the boathouse. "Won' be movin' back anytime soon. Dis is best for everyone."

Displeased, Scott shook his head. "Are you sure? You know you’ve got friends there? Hank would love to see you move back and so would Logan and Bobby. Even Warren wouldn't mind." Hearing that Warren had left Betsy had surprised him, but he found himself applauding the decision. I doubt they really loved each other. They each used the other to show off. Maybe Warren will start reevaluating his priorities.

"Mebbe," Remy said, a hint of disbelief coloring his tone. Mais I doubt dey want me 'round fulltime. He resumed staring at the landscape that flashed by. "Why are you takin' me out for dinner, Cyke?" Remy's eyes grew big. Merde, had he really said that? He had only intended to think it! When will you learn to keep your big mout' shut?

A pang of guilt made Scott cringe. "I'm sorry that I've been so busy lately. I promised myself I’d stay in touch with you and instead our interaction has been limited to communicating during missions."

Hearing the obvious apology, Remy frowned. "Non, c'est bon. I can take care of myself. Have been doin' dat my entire life. You're doin' your job, Cyke." Inwardly torn, he wondered what he wanted. Did he want Scott close or not? It was easier to pretend when Scott wasn't around, but spending time with Scott made him feel alive. Feeling trapped, he peeked at Scott as the other man pulled in to the parking lot and put the car in to park.

"I hope you're hungry. I don't usually eat those greasy burgers, but when I indulge myself I go all the way and I want dessert as well." Scott opened the car door and drew in a deep breath of fresh air. When Remy stayed frozen in his seat, he walked over to the other side of the car, opened the door and smiled. "Are you joining me?"

Remy almost whispered 'no', but kept quiet instead. Scott was going through all this trouble to make him eat and the least he could do was be cooperative. Remy slid from his seat and fell into step beside Scott.

The awkward silence unnerved Scott; something was definitely wrong with Remy and he grew even more worried. Maybe he should spend some time with the Cajun. Maybe stay at the boathouse for a few days to make sure Remy finally got a decent night's sleep. There were no pressing matters to attend to and he could use a short break himself. How would Remy react when he told the Cajun about his plans?

They had reached the counter and a young lady, who was smiling brilliantly, asked for their order.

"What are you having?" Scott asked, while studying the menu. When had he eaten fast food last? Jean had never approved of fast food, but he enjoyed eating it occasionally.

Remy forced himself to check out the menu. The smell of the food was making him nauseous and he wasn't sure he would be able to keep the meal down, but he had to try, for Scott. He might as well choose something that would be easy on his stomach. "A Whopper, no mayo, French Fries, small, and a diet coke."

Scott realized that Remy had chosen the food items with the lowest calories. "Okay, I want..." Scott took a deep breath, secretly enjoying the prospect of indulging himself by eating all this grease. "Double whopper with cheese and mayo, French fries, king-size, onion rings, Sprite and Dutch apple pie." Oh, he was almost drooling, just stating his order.

"Hey, Cyke, you're addicted to grease?" The empath sensed Scott's obvious excitement.

Scott laughed as the girl began filling their orders. "This one's on me," he announced and paid for their orders. "Why don't you go find us a spot to sit down while I wait for our orders?"

"Sure, Cyke." Remy walked away from the counter and scanned the room for vacant seats. In the end, he found a nice secluded table at the back. Sitting down, he judged it safe to briefly remove his sunglasses; no one was watching him anyway. Massaging his temples, he hoped the beginning headache wouldn't grow worse. People's emotions were battering against his shields.

"Still tired?" Scott placed the tray on their table and handed Remy his order. He noticed the reluctance with which Remy picked at his food, only eating tiny bites of his burger. The French fries remained untouched and his own appetite was dwindling, seeing Remy poke at his food.

"Un peu," Remy admitted.

"You aren't particularly talkative tonight, huh?" Scott finished his whopper and sipped his Sprite. "Why don't you tell me what's going on? You look like hell."

"Merci for de compliment," Remy said sarcastically. "I don' wanna talk 'bout it."

"Not so long ago, someone told me that keeping it all inside didn't help, remember that? That person was you." Scott didn't mind fighting dirty and using Remy's words against him.

Remy bit his lower lip. "Don' push it, Cyke."

"Name's Scott. Why are you shutting me out, Remy?" Scott pushed the tray away from him and concentrated on Remy. "You're having trouble sleeping... is it nightmares?"

Remy shook his head. "Why won' you leave me 'lone?"

Remy's resistance surprised Scott. Why was the Cajun determined to lock him out? "Because I care." Remy's head jerked up, hearing those words. Bull's eye!

Remy licked his lips, wondering if he should confide in Scott or not. "Don' sleep at all."

"You're suffering from insomnia?" Scott felt surprised. "When was the last time you slept all through the night?" He feared hearing Remy's reply. His instincts told him he was somehow to blame for this.

"De last night you spent at de boathouse. I've been tossin' and turnin' ever since. I sometimes fall 'sleep for one, two hours, mais den I'm 'wake 'gain."

"And it's driving you insane," Scott realized. "You did sleep well when I was staying at the boathouse?" Remy's nod confirmed his suspicions. He did have something to do with Remy's insomnia. "Want me to spend the night at the boathouse tonight?" The look Remy gave him spoke of shock.

"What?" Remy stuttered.

"When I was trying to cope with Jean's death you kept the nightmares away. I want to return that favor. Maybe my presence will help you fall asleep and stay asleep."

Remy shivered. "Non."

"Why not?" Scott wasn't giving up yet.

"You live at de mansion now."

"I can pack some stuff and move back for a few days if it will help you sleep." Scott gathered the wrapping paper and boxes and placed them back on the tray, ready to be disposed of when they left the establishment. "Think about it, okay? Don't dismiss it yet." Scott got to his feet, picked up the tray and cleaned it off. He expected Remy to follow him, but when he turned around, he realized that the Cajun had turned deathly pale.

Oh, non, mon Dieu... dis ain' happenin'! Remy shook violently, meeting dark, vicious eyes. A bulky man was watching him from the next table. Non, non! It can' be him! Can' be! He needed to get out of here before he suffered a full blown panic attack, but he felt paralyzed and he could only stare as the other man rose to his feet and walked up to him.

"Well, what a surprise. You still owe me a fuck, boy. I paid more than enough for your scrawny ass."

Hugo, it's him! It's de face I saw in my nightmares for years! He haunted my dreams when I was a chile and his face still haunts me some nights. Non... non, dis can' be happenin! His breathing quickened and tremors shook his body. Fighting for air, he remained frozen on the chair.

Scott noticed the panic stricken expression on Remy's face and returned to the table. He didn't know the man Remy was talking to, but the leather clothing, cold eyes and evil grin made him wary.

"You still a virgin, boy? I paid to be the first one to fuck you..." Hugo snarled, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Whadda ya say? Want to make it up to me now?"

Remy started to hyperventilate and in a blind panic, he forced his body to move. He jumped up from his chair, almost tripped over a kid's toy and managed to run toward the doorway. Was Hugo following him? He didn't dare look over his shoulder. Once outside, he tried to regulate his breathing. His face felt wet and he suddenly realized that he was crying. Doubling over, he wrapped his arms around his waist and threw up what he had just eaten. His worst nightmare had come true!

Scott grabbed Hugo's wrist as the man tried to follow Remy outside. "Leave him alone." He had caught Hugo's last words and although he was puzzled, he realized that this man meant Remy harm.

"What? You're his new pimp? I ain't paying twice for his ass." Hugo freed himself of Scott's hold.

His pimp? Paying for his ass? What the hell is this about? Looking outside, he saw that Remy was throwing up. I can find out later. I've got to look after Remy first. "We're not done yet," he hissed and registered Hugo's grin. The man wasn't impressed.

Setting his priorities, Scott hurried outside and joined Remy, who was still suffering from dry heaves. "Hey, it's okay, don't fight it." Awkwardly but gently, Scott eased Remy's hair away from his face and rubbed the Cajun's back tenderly. "Done?"

Remy nodded his head; relieved the panic attack was over. "Wanna leave... wanna leave now!"

Scott flinched at the hysterical tone and reacted at once. He steered Remy toward the car and helped him inside. "Here." He handed Remy some bottled water, which he always kept in the car in case he had a long drive ahead of him. "Sorry, but I don't have mouthwash."

Remy didn't say a word. He used the water to rinse his mouth and spit the water onto the ground. After closing the car door, he leaned back and tried to get his fear back under control. Hugo couldn't touch him now. He was older and he knew how to defend himself against perverts like Hugo. One blow, delivered with his bo staff, could split Hugo's head like a ripe melon. Yes, he was safe... safe...

"Remy, what's this about?" Scott turned on the engine, but didn't drive away yet.

The panic returned fully when Remy realized that Scott had most likely overheard Hugo's words. Oh non, he can' know. Don' let him figure out what happened! Don' wanna lose de li'l respect he has for me! In shock, Remy curled up on his seat.

Scott stared at the unresponsive man. He needed to get Remy out of here and into an environment where he felt safe. "We're going back to the boathouse, okay?" But Remy didn't respond and Scott had to buckle his passenger up. We'll talk about this once you feel up to it.

Had he understood correctly? Scott's memory drifted back to the words the man had spoken. He just couldn't believe the conclusion he reached. He said he 'paid for his ass'. Mentioned Remy being a virgin and him wanting to be the first to... fuck him... What does that sound like? Shivers ran up and down his spine. Was Remy a prostitute once?

Looking at the shivering man in the passenger's seat, Scott dismissed that idea. Remy's terrified of this man. Whatever happened wasn't consensual... I can't believe this... was he raped? We really need to talk about this, but first... After delivering Remy to the boathouse he would return to Burger King and question this bastard who had scared Remy.

Remy had turned inward and was completely focused on numbing his feelings. He didn't want to feel the pain, fear and humiliation that came with being confronted by Hugo. All these years he had convinced himself that he had dealt with his time on the streets and now Hugo was back to haunt him. Ain' feelin' de pain, ain' feelin' de humiliation, de fear, de horror... ain' feelin' a t'ing... rien...

Scott sighed as Remy's eyes closed. Remy became completely motionless and if it hadn't been for the other man's breathing he would have thought Remy was dead. I'm going to find out what that was about... and this time you won't shut me out. We'll talk.

///

Warren gave up on knocking on the front door. Bored, he had decided to pay Remy a visit, hoping they could grow a little closer, but Remy wasn't answering the door. Maybe the Cajun had gone out? Figures, the one time that I take the initiative he isn't home.

Warren was about to head for the mansion when he noticed the BMW driving up to the boathouse. Using his sharp vision, he identified Scott behind the steering wheel and Remy in the passenger seat. Warren frowned, seeing the numb and vacant expression on the Cajun's face. His alarms kicked in and he waited for the car to come to a stop. "What's going on?" he asked, as Scott left the car. Damn it, Scott looked pale and worried.

"It's Remy. I need your help, Warren. I have to head back to find some answers and I can't leave Remy here on his own. Can you stay until I get back?" Scott moved to the other side of the car, opened the car door and practically dragged Remy to his feet. The Cajun was still unresponsive, staring into nothingness.

"What's wrong with him?" Warren now understood Scott's concern. The Cajun looked like the walking dead. Acting instinctively, he grabbed Remy's arm and supported the other man. Warren raised a puzzled eyebrow as Scott jumped into the car again. "Aren't you staying?" He panicked briefly at the prospect of taking care of Remy.

"I have to talk to this man... I'll be back as soon as possible." Scott didn't waste any time, kicked the car into gear and drove away from the boathouse. He had to get back to Burger King as quickly as possible. Hopefully, the man would still be there. He wanted some answers.

///

"Okay, let's do this," Warren mumbled absentmindedly. Looking at Remy's blank stare, he recalled that the Cajun had looked this withdrawn after he had absorbed Scott's depression. Remy was completely uncooperative and Warren dragged his dead weight inside. After guiding Remy to the couch, he helped the other man sit down. Remy's eyes were open, but the Cajun didn't notice his presence.

"Hey, Remy, what's going on?" Warren felt at a loss for words. He wasn't good at coaxing people into talking and he had never before tried connecting with the Cajun. Tremors shook Remy's body and the alien eyes closed. Shit... he's shutting me out... what do I do? What caused this?

Prompted into action, Warren collected a blanket from the bedroom and wrapped it around the shivering man. "Remy, what's going on? Talk to me? Scott dropped you off and I have no idea what happened."

Remy heard Warren's words, but chose to ignore the other man. Answering Warren meant leaving this protective cocoon and he still needed to hide from the ugly memories.

"Want to lie down? I can get you a pillow, help you get comfortable." Warren didn't wait for Remy's answer, knowing he probably wouldn't get a reply. "Here, let me help." He assisted Remy in lying down and covered him with a blanket. "Still cold?"

Remy turned his face away from Warren. Tears were about to roll down his face and he didn't want Warren to see him cry. He buried his fingers in the blanket, clawing at it. Please mon Dieu, don' let Hugo know where I live. I can' handle him showin' up on my doorstep.

Warren felt at a loss. Remy wasn't reacting, he was continuing to shut down. "Is there anything I can do? Do you want some hot tea? Coffee?" Come on, you're scaring me. I'm not a telepath, or an empath. I don't know how to reach you. In the end, Warren pulled a comfortable chair close to the couch so he could observe Remy. Should I tell Hank what's happening? Or do I wait until Scott gets back? Yeah, I'll wait for Scott to return.

///

Scott pulled up to the Burger King, parked the car and stalked inside. Within seconds he had located Hugo in the corner of the restaurant and he marched over to the other man. Apparently, Hugo was alone, which suited Scott just fine.

Hugo looked up from the table as Scott came to a halt in front of his table. "Whadda ya want?"

"I want to talk to you, outside." A burning rage was building in the pit of his stomach, seeing the dirty expression in the other man's eyes.

"What makes you think I wanna talk to you?" Hugo cocked his head and smirked. "Or did you bring the boy with you? Still got some unfinished business with that one."

"Outside, now." Scott didn't trust himself to remain calm and didn't want to draw attention to their conversation.

Hugo leaned back and shook his head. "Make me."

"You shouldn't have said that." Scott moved quickly, grabbed Hugo's right arm and twisted it.

Hugo moaned in pain. Scott's action had taken him by surprise. He had never thought the other man would resort to violence. "Okay, you made your point." Reluctantly, he got to his feet and headed for the exit.

Scott maintained his hold on the other man and after he maneuvered them outside, he led Hugo to a secluded area behind the restaurant.

Hugo was still smirking, despite the fact that the hold Scott had on his arm was becoming painful. "Whadda ya want, man?"

"I want to know what that was all about. What did you mean when you said you paid for his ass? And don't lie to me, you won't like the consequences." Scott was deadly serious. He would never willingly harm anyone, but this creep was pushing his buttons. "How do you know Remy?"

Hugo laughed, amused. He didn't know what was going on, but he decided to play along. "I found the street rat fifteen years ago on Bourbon Street. I paid some good money to fuck him and then he passed out on me... the little shit."

Scott's rage came to a boil and he jerked the other man's arm painfully. "You paid him?"

"Actually, I paid his pimp, Philippe." Hugo grinned, seeing the confusion on Scott's face. "Man, you really don't get it, do you? The boy's a little whore. He had a pretty good reputation for giving head, but I wanted to try his tight little hole. He was still a virgin, at least Philippe assured me he was..."

Unable to control his rage any longer, Scott's fist connected with Hugo's chin. "You bastard..." Scott had quickly done the mathematics. Remy was about twenty-five years old so he had been ten when this pervert had gotten his hands on him.

"Hey, chill out, man," Hugo sneered, enraged that the other man had thrown a punch at him. "The kid was a whore! I paid his pimp to fuck him."

"Did you? Fuck him?" Hugo had said something about Remy passing out, but his brain had trouble registering everything. Grabbing Hugo by his T-shirt, he pulled the other man close. "Did you fuck him?" Scott asked, through clenched teeth.

"The little bastard passed out while I was fucking him... didn't get to finish..." Hugo never ended his sentence. Scott threw a wild punch at him, which sent him flying into the wall, but the grin stayed glued to his face. "What? You jealous, boy? Didn't he let you fuck him? Is that it?"

Disgusted, Scott turned away from Hugo. "Don't ever come close to him again. If I find you're harassing him, you'll answer to me. Leave him alone!"

"You want a piece of his ass... that's it!" Hugo leered, triumphantly. 

Scott's hands turned into fists. Get out of here before you kill the son of a bitch. Scott walked over to his car and saw Hugo go back inside. My God, I was ready to bash his ugly face in!

Suddenly, the enormity of what he had learned hit him. It can't have been consensual! A ten year old can't willingly prostitute himself. I can't believe that! This Philippe must have forced him... Shit, didn't Remy mention that name when he was lighting those candles? What if it's true? What if he was prostituting himself at ten? Fuck, I never... Scott banged his fist against the steering wheel. "We never suspected a thing!"

He keyed the ignition and the car left the parking lot with screeching tires.

///

Remy, why are you doing this? You're an empath and a telepath. You're probably receiving my thoughts and yet you keep quiet. What the hell set this off? I thought you were doing okay. Warren had kept a vigil at Remy's side for the last hour and fervently hoped that Scott was coming back shortly. Remy was really scaring him. The Cajun hadn't moved since he had covered the younger man with a blanket. Remy's eyes were closed, but the Cajun's breathing told him that Remy wasn't asleep.

"I'm going to make some tea," Warren announced. "And you're going to drink some as well." You look like death warmed over. When had Remy lost the weight? Gained the dark circles under his eyes? They had participated in a mission a month ago and Remy had seemed okay back then.

Reluctantly, Warren left his chair and moved into the kitchen to boil the water for his tea, but he kept a close eye on the Cajun all the time. Remy was too quiet, too withdrawn and the dam could burst any moment now. Hopefully, Scott would be back in time to deal with the flood of emotions, which Remy was trying to keep locked up inside.

The kettle whistled sharply and Warren noticed how Remy flinched, hearing the penetrating sound. Warren filled their mugs with hot water, added the tea bags and waited a minute before removing them again. He carried the mugs over to the coffee table; this time he was determined to get through to the Cajun.

"Try to drink some tea?" Warren manhandled Remy into a sitting position and smiled privately, seeing the annoyance in the Cajun's eyes. You want me to back off, but I'm not going to do that. I gave up Bets to build this friendship... "Here..." Resolutely, he took hold of Remy's right hand and curled the Cajun's fingers around the mug. "Sip slowly." Remy gave him a dirty look and Warren smiled. Remy was finally acknowledging his presence. "Care to tell me what's going on?"

"Non." Remy's voice sounded clipped and cold. Remy averted his eyes, ignoring Warren the best he could. The other man's worry surprised him, but Worthington was probably only concerned because Scott had entrusted him to Warren. "Don' wanna talk at all. You don' have to stay... go back to de mansion." Hugo's face flashed in his mind and the tea spilled over the rim. "Merde!" The hot tea burned his skin, but he hardly felt the pain.

Warren was more determined than ever to stay until Scott got back. "Here, let me..." He leaned in closer to gather to blanket, hang it out to dry and get Remy a new, dry one, but the Cajun flinched violently when their hands met.

"Don' touch me!" Remy yelled, curling up again. "Jus' don' touch me."

Startled, Warren stared at the frightened Cajun. "Remy, what the hell is going on?" He was about to pressure Remy into talking when the front door opened and Scott stepped inside. Warren released a relieved sigh. Yes, Scott was back and his friend knew how to handle Remy, but seeing the expression on Scott's face, Warren almost reconsidered. Scott was pale and his hands were tightly clenched fists. Shit, this is bad.

Scott forced himself to remain calm. "Warren, thanks for looking after him. Could you leave us now? I really need to talk to Remy."

Warren nodded his head. The tension in the room was getting to him. "Sure, just let me know if you need anything." He quickly covered the distance to the door and slipped past Scott.

Remy involuntarily held his breath, sensing Scott's anger. Did he figure it out? Why did he leave 'gain after droppin' me off?

Scott sat down in the now vacant chair and studied Remy's eyes. They were numb, had lost their glow, the mischievous sparkle was completely gone. When had he seen it last? "I went back to Burger King," he started. "I talked to him."

"You talked to Hugo?" In spite of his panic, Remy managed the question. Merde, he knows! The tremors grew worse and he clutched the blanket, no longer noticing the wet spot.

"Hugo? So that's the bastard's name?"

Remy flinched. He had never heard Scott use the word bastard before.

Scott drew in a deep breath, hating to tell Remy he knew about his time on Bourbon Street. "He told me you were a prostitute."

A giant lump had formed in his throat, making it nearly impossible for him to speak and his breath came in short spurts. Mon Dieu, can' start hyperventilatin' 'gain... Breathing rapidly, he tried to stay in control of his feelings, but fear and panic overwhelmed him.

"Here." Scott had retrieved a plastic bag from the kitchen and placed it over Remy's lips and nose. "Try to slow down. Take nice, slow breaths." Remy's reaction didn't surprise him. So it's true...

Remy needed a few minutes to calm down. Putting the plastic bag down, he lowered his eyes, avoiding Scott's. This was one conversation he didn't want to have, but Scott deserved the truth. He knows anyway!

"Remy?" Scott had taken his seat again and tried to capture Remy's glance. He failed. The Cajun was determined not to look at him. "Why don't you tell me what this is about?"

Remy closed his eyes. His voice was monotone and emotionless when he started talking. "Was nine when I ended up on de streets. Didn' have any money or a home. Didn' have any friends. Philippe took me in and I sucked off his customers, earnin' my keep. Stayed on de streets for a few months... Den Hugo happened. He raped me... When I regained consciousness, Philippe was dying. After he died, I left our room, determined to score some crack... mais I ran into poppa and he took me in. He saved my life." Emotionally exhausted, Remy felt numb. Scott was going to leave any moment now and he would be alone again.

Scott's fingernails dug into the armrest of the chair. I can't believe this... he was nine when this Philippe forced him to perform sexual favors? And this Philippe let Hugo rape Remy? Shaking his head, he tried to find the right words to say. "I'm sorry," he whispered eventually.

"Sorry?" Surprised, Remy finally looked at Scott. "Sorry? Why are you sorry?"

"I'm sorry those horrible things happened to you when you were a kid. I'm sorry that Hugo turned up at Burger King. You suffered some flash backs right there and then, didn't you?" He didn't need to see Remy nod his head; he already knew he was right. Damn it, Remy... you went through all this and we never suspected it... Shit, Hugo raped him!

"Cyke?" Worried, Remy sought out Scott's eyes, but as usual they were hidden behind his ruby glasses. Scott's mind was a swamp of emotions, dragging him down. Feeling Scott's anger, he assumed it was aimed at him. He had overstayed his welcome and should pack his things. Scott wouldn't want a whore around! The other man was probably trying to think of a way to tell him to leave the mansion ASAP.

"Am gonna pack my stuff now." Remy wanted to throw off the blanket, but he lacked the strength to move his arms. Get movin', LeBeau. He doesn' want you here, not after findin' out what you really are. Dere's no place wit' de X-Men for whores!

"Remy?" Scott finally met the Cajun's gaze. Some of Remy's thoughts were slipping into his mind and alarmed, he reached out and wrapped his fingers around Remy's wrist. "What? You think I no longer want you around because... because those perverts couldn't keep their hands off a defenseless child? Is that it? Do you really think I'd sink that low?" The fact that Remy had such little faith in him hurt.

Remy was at a loss for words and simply stared at Scott's hand, resting on his wrist. Don' touch, don' touch, don' touch...

Scott jerked back as if burned when Remy's cries drifted into his mind. He let go of Remy's wrist immediately and watched the younger man curl up on the couch.

Don' touch, don' touch, don' touch... Don' touch, don' touch, don' touch...

The soft pleading in his mind continued and Scott rubbed his temples. Feeling helpless, he wanted to reach out and assure Remy by touch, but the Cajun's reaction had told him he didn't want to be touched. What do I do now?

 

Chapter Two - Catharsis

Don' touch, don' touch, don' touch... Curled up, Remy pulled the blanket up to his chin, barely suppressing the urge to hide his face as well. The thought that Hugo was still out there scared the hell out of him. He felt nine years old again, and at Hugo's mercy.

"Remy? Why don't you tell me what to do?" Remy had made it through this painful process before so Scott had made it his priority to find out how! It would tell him how to make Remy feel safe. "Remy, did you hear me?"

Remy bit his bottom lip, trying hard not to react, but he couldn't lock Scott out completely. Ignoring Warren had been a lot easier. Please go 'way... don' want you to see me like dis... But he stopped himself from broadcasting those thoughts; secretly, he didn't want Scott to leave. Don' wanna be 'lone. What if Hugo finds me?

Scott left his chair and sat on his heels in front of the couch, looking at Remy's back. The Cajun's body still shook with tiny tremors and his hand remained poised in mid-air, uncertain if Remy would allow the touch. "Could you turn around, Remy? I would really like to see your face when I'm talking to you."

Remy swallowed hard. Why couldn't Scott just leave him alone? Against his better judgment, he rolled onto his other side, but he kept his eyes shut, still refusing to make eye contact.

"Remy?" Scott was going to do this in tiny steps. "Open your eyes and look at me?"

Remy didn't want to obey, but his eyes flashed open anyway. Feeling numb, he stared at Scott's ruby glasses. Wish I could see his eyes...

"Tell me what to do, Remy. Only you know what you need. Tell me how to help." Scott hoped this tactic would work. If only he could lure Remy into talking to him! Slowly, making sure Remy could see his every move, he placed his hand on Remy's, where it was still clawing at the blanket. "Just tell me what will make you feel comfortable."

Mon Dieu, I hate bein' dis way, dis pat'etic. I don' want him to see me dis way. Merde I don' want to feel like dis. Don' wanna feel 'lone and scared... Remy shivered, hearing Scott's words. The only one who had been able to make him feel safe and relaxed was Jean-Luc LeBeau and that was only because the Patriarch of the Thieves' Guild loved him unconditionally. And mebbe he hung in dere 'caus he felt guilty for stealin' me from de hospital.

What if I tell him and he heads back for de mansion tomorrow, leavin' me 'lone 'gain. Can I take dat risk? Scott was still assuring him that he wanted to help, that he was waiting for Remy to tell him what to do.

"Remy, please don't shut me out." Scott was growing desperate now that Remy wasn't reacting. "Is it because I moved back to the mansion?" Remy flinched. Yes, that's it. "Give me a second chance, Remy?"

A second chance? Why should you get one when life didn' give me anot'er chance? Staring at Scott, he trembled; the other man's concern washed over him. He's really worried... I never knew he cared dis much 'bout me... Who am I to deny him a second chance?

"Remy?" Scott didn't know how to interpret the changing expression in Remy's eyes.

"Wha’ ya want to know?" His voice sounded raw, and Remy cleared his throat, trying to regain a hold on his feelings.

"How did you deal with this the first time? You were only a child back then..." Scott sat down on the floor and gently squeezed Remy's hand. It felt weird, comforting another man, but six months ago Remy had reached out to him and the Cajun had looked after him. He could do the same thing for Remy, even if it made him slightly uncomfortable. He had never before been this emotionally close to another man and he hoped he wasn't going to commit any major mistakes. "How did you do it?"

"I didn' do a t'ing," Remy whispered, emotionally. "Poppa made it alright 'gain."

"Poppa?"

"Jean-Luc... he... I don' know how he did it. He didn' lemme shut him out..." He touched me... kindly, and wit' no hidden agenda. It was his gentleness, his concern dat made me crawl back from dat bottomless pit I had buried myself in. Mais Scott, you can' do dat... You won' touch a whore... I know you won'.

Scott flinched violently, receiving Remy's thoughts. He didn't know if Remy had sent them intentionally or accidentally, but they did tell him what Remy really thought of him. "Remy, is that it? Do you want me to..."

"Hold me..." Remy finished for him, realizing Scott had picked up on his thoughts. Merde! He had thought that his shields were strong enough to keep his thoughts and emotions from leaking out!

Hold him? Didn't expect that one! Feeling awkward and uncertain, Scott raised his arm and rested it on Remy's shoulder. "If you want me to hold you we'd better take this upstairs. We won't fit on the couch." A startled expression appeared in Remy's eyes and he had a pretty good idea what was going on. "Come on, Remy, you know me! I won't touch you against your will. Have some faith in me, Remy. Please, trust me. I only want to help."

Sorry... know you only wanna help, I really do, mais... seein' Hugo and hearin' his voice brought everyt'in' back.  Remy allowed Scott to help him sit upright. Am tired... he admitted. He even felt too tired to talk.

"Then let me do the work," Scott offered, supporting Remy as they climbed the stairs. He briefly hesitated before entering Remy's bedroom, afraid that memories of his time spent here with Jean would overwhelm him, but they didn't, and he continued to lead Remy to the bed. "Do you want to change into your sweats? Can't be comfortable, sleeping in those jeans."

Remy nodded his head. "Could... could you turn 'round?" He desperately wanted to slip into his sweats, but shivered at the thought of Scott watching, or even worse, assisting him. He wasn't a baby and he didn't want Scott watching every move he made. Mais you have to admit, he's actin' a bit like poppa used to... hoverin' all 'bout you...

Scott couldn't hide his smile. "Got a pair of sweats for me as well? I'll change my clothes in the bathroom and then you don't have to worry about me peeking at you." He hoped his smile would assure Remy that he was merely teasing him.

Fortunately, Remy picked up on the teasing and he gave Scott a weak smile in return. He opened the closet, gathered the sweats and handed them to Scott. "Hope dey fit."

"I'm sure they'll do just fine." Scott took the sweats and walked into the bathroom. He left the door ajar, unsure whether Remy had to know that he was still there and hadn't left.

Remy used the time to slip out of his jeans and shirt and into the sweats. He flinched when Scott entered the bedroom again. For one moment he had been back at Burger King again, seeing Hugo standing in front of him. Merde, I'm gonna have nightmares 'gain and it ain' fair to keep Scott up all night. He needs sleep too. "Mebbe you should sleep in de ot'er bedroom or go back to de mansion? I'll be tossin' and turnin' all night long."

Taking the initiative, Scott walked over to the bed and pushed down the covers. "Let's try to get some sleep, Remy." He lay down, and watched Remy fight his inner battle. "We slept peacefully that month while we shared a bed. Come on, Remy, let's try again."

Mechanically, Remy walked over to the bed, sat down on the side and stared at the wall. "Dis ain' right..."

"Why's that?"

"Don' know... jus' feels wrong." Confused, Remy lay down as well. His body felt heavy and his eyelids were closing. Facing away from Scott, Remy curled up on his side.

So this is how you're going to play it? Damn it, Remy, this won't work and we both know it. Even though you're only inches away from me, you're still shutting me out. Scott pulled the comforter over their bodies and tucked it around their forms. They would be a lot more comfortable if Remy moved closer... or he could move closer. But he didn't want to impose himself, uncertain how Remy would react to being pulled close to another body. It might trigger his flashbacks again... Resigned, Scott stared at Remy's back, then reached to switch off the lamp on the nightstand.

"What are you doin'?" Frantically, Remy rolled onto his other side.

The panic in Remy's eyes took Scott aback. "Hey, it's okay. I'm only killing the light."

"Don'! Please leave it on," Remy said pleadingly. "Don' wanna go to sleep in de dark..."

"Okay, then, the light stays on." Scott stared at Remy from behind his ruby glasses. The Cajun's eyes were drooping shut again, but Remy was still fighting his exhaustion. "You can close your eyes and go to sleep, Remy. I'll still be here in the morning."

"Promise?" Remy whispered in a timid tone.

"Yeah, I promise," Scott assured him. "Now try to relax... think of something nice... think of Jean-Luc... and go to sleep. I'll watch over you tonight"

"Sounds... nice," Remy mumbled, already half sleep.

Scott smiled and tucked the blanket back around Remy's form. I forgot how nice it felt to have company at night... Oh, Jean, I miss you so much, but Remy... stop thinking that! She's only been dead for seven months! You can't be thinking this, but it's true... I do like Remy. I like him a lot... no, this can't happen. I can't betray Jean like that. I'm not attracted to Remy... I'm not!

Closing his eyes, he tried to ignore the warm body close to him. He thought of Jean, the few times she hadn't been feeling well and he had loved taking care of her; it made him feel loved and useful. Now that Remy didn't feel well, he enjoyed taking care of the Cajun, feeling warm inside now that the other man needed him and wanted him close.

I won't go there again, Jean. I promise. I know you gave me your blessing to love again, but it's just too soon and this is Remy we're talking about. He doesn't want a man as his lover, not after what he has been through on the streets and with Hugo. Stop thinking about it. I love Jean and I'm not attracted to Remy. I'm not!

///

Scott woke up because Remy was trying to leave the bed. "What are you doing, Remy?" He kept his voice soft and tender, making sure he didn't startle the Cajun.

Remy flinched, not because of Scott's tone, but because he had woken the other man. "C'est bien, Scott. I'm only t'irsty, need somet'in' to drink. Won' do anyt'in' stupid." Feeling shy and somewhat embarrassed, he had to admit that he didn't want to leave the bed. Scott's presence had ensured his first undisturbed sleep in months. Even Hugo's ugly visage hadn't haunted him.

"Stay in bed, Remy." Scott pushed back the comforter and got to his feet. "Lie down, come on, Remy."

Uncertain what was going on, Remy obeyed. He didn't really have the strength to verbally fight over this with Scott. The other man covered him with the still warm comforter and Scott walked over to his side of the bed. What were Scott's plans?

"What would you like? Water? Tea? Warm milk?" Scott frowned, seeing Remy's surprised look. "What?"

"You wanna get me somet'in' to drink? Mais Scott, I can do dat myself! You don' have to get up and..." He didn't get a chance to finish.

"It's okay, Remy. I'll get you something to drink. I don't mind. Just stay in bed and keep warm? I'll be back in a few minutes. Now what do you want to drink?"

"You really don' mind?" Remy had trouble keeping the surprise out of his voice. "Don' wanna be a burden."

"You're not a burden," Scott assured him. "Now tell me what you want me to get."

"Warm milk?" Remy said hesitantly. "Mais if dat's too much work, bottled water will do jus’ as well." Why? Why was Scott doing this for him? He just didn't understand why Scott went to all this trouble.

"Warm milk it is," Scott said cheerfully, completely awake now. "Anything else you need?"

"Non." Remy shook his head and watched Scott leave the room. What was happening? Why was Scott this concerned? Should he ask Scott those questions or keep quiet instead?

///

Scott actually smiled while warming the milk. When he had found Remy leaving the bed he had instinctively offered his services. The dark circles under the Cajun's eyes were proof of how little sleep Remy had gotten lately and he wanted the other man to rest.

After pouring the warm milk into a mug, he switched off the lights and went upstairs again, wondering if Remy was still awake. Now he felt grateful that the light on the nightstand was still on, though he would have seen the glowing red eyes in the dark as well. "Here's your milk. You should sit up, Remy."

Remy pushed himself into a sitting position and curled his fingers around the warm mug. He waited until Scott was back in bed before firing his question at the other man. "Why? Why are you doin' dis? You don' need to take care of me."

Scott smiled saddened. "Drink your milk, Remy."

"You still didn' answer my question," Remy said stubbornly after sipping cautiously at the warm milk.

"I like doing this for you... it was like that with Jean as well." Inwardly debating whether to continue or not, he watched Remy's eyes widen. "She didn't get sick very often, but when she did I loved taking care of her, fetching her drinks, rubbing her back, things like that."

Remy stared into his milk. Mais I ain' Jean... dis doesn' explain why you're takin' care of me. Merde, did I jus' broadcast dat? Worried, he looked at Scott.

"Yeah, you did and you're right. It doesn't really explain it, does it?" Scott carefully selected his next words. "But I consider you a good friend. You saw me through a very rough time right after Jean died and it makes me feel good to do the same for you in return."

Remy suddenly smiled weakly. So you're one of dose people who like givin’ instead of receivin'? Where did dat one come from?

"Yeah, I guess I am. Now shut up and drink your milk. It's only three in the morning and I want us to get some more sleep."

"Don' tell me you scheduled a trainin' session in de mornin'," Remy complained. "I won' make it on time for dat one."

"No, no training session, but I want you to talk to the professor and Hank in the morning. I don't know how to help you and..." Scott stopped as Remy suddenly grew pale. The Cajun's hands shook and the milk almost sloshed over the rim.

"I ain' talkin' to Hank! Don' want anyone else to know and you won' tell dem!" It was bad enough that Charles knew. In his confused state, he had almost forgotten that he had told the professor about his past seven months ago while the team had been away on a mission.

Remy was shaking and Scott wondered if it was due to fear or anger. "Hey, I won't tell them without your permission. I just thought they could help you!"

"Don' need anyone’s help!" Remy stared at the milk, feeling angry and hurt. Scott wasn't in this for the long haul. Tomorrow, Scott would dump him at Hank’s doorstep!

Confused, Scott tried to make sense of Remy's reaction. Jean had once told him that all negative emotions originated from fear, so... "What are you afraid of, Remy?"

"I ain' 'fraid." But he was; afraid that he would end up alone again.

Scott suddenly realized what might be going on in Remy's head. "I'll be with you every step of the way, like you saw me through."

Remy firmly shook his head. "Non, you won'."

Scott frowned. "Remy..."

"Jus' stop it, Cyke." Remy placed the nearly empty mug on the nightstand with a loud bang and lay down again, hogging the comforter. His back turned to Scott, he was grateful that the other man couldn't see his watering eyes. "Go back to sleep, Cyke."

Scott's frown deepened. What the hell had just happened? "Remy...?"

"I ain' talkin' no more, Cyke." Remy closed his eyes, pressed his lips tightly shut and pretended he was back at home in New Orleans. Searching his memory, he recalled an old lullaby Mattie used to hum and he forced himself to fall asleep while listening to it.

Now that went smoothly, Scott thought sarcastically. Just when I thought I was finally getting through to him, he shuts down again. What freaked him out? So the professor and Hank are not options... I have to come up with a solution myself...

Scott stared at Remy's back and fought down the urge to pull the Cajun into his arms. Unable to sleep, he tried to come up with a way to help Remy conquer his demons.

//

"Non! Don'! Get your hands off of me! Poppa, he's back, Hugo, Philippe, de Antiquary, dey're back!" Remy was screaming and thrashing in the bed, striking at non-existent enemies.

Scott woke at Remy's screams and promptly received a punch in his stomach, followed by a kick to his shins. Remy was desperately trying to push him out of bed, out of his personal space. The thing that really scared Scott was that Remy's eyes were open, but staring blindly at the wall.

"Remy, listen to my voice. It's me, Scott and you're at the boathouse." He had left the bed and was watching Remy struggle with his imaginary tormentors. "Remy!"

He hadn't meant to yell at him, but it was the only way to draw the Cajun's attention. Suddenly, Remy went still. No longer struggling, his eyes came alive and fixed on him.

"Yeah, that's better. Remy, you had a nightmare... calm down, okay?" Scott maintained his distance, not climbing back into bed yet. He was now on his heels in front of Remy, careful not to touch the other man. "Are you okay again? Remember me? Remember the boathouse?"

Remy's brow grew knitted. "A nightmare, oui, it was a nightmare..." Panting softly, he tried to compose himself. "Kicked you out de bed, non?" Too shy to make eye contact, he closed them, recalling his nightmare. It had been awful. Philippe, Hugo and the Antiquary had grabbed him, pushing him down and he had known what would happen next, but then Scott's voice had pulled him back. "Sorry... did I hurt you?"

"Just my pride," Scott teased; he would sport some bruises later. He checked the time; it was seven in the morning. "Do you want to go back to sleep?" Remy firmly shook his head. "I guess that's a no. Why don't you take a long, hot shower and I'll prepare breakfast in the meantime? We can talk things over while eating breakfast." He still had some questions left. Remy had told him about Hugo and Philippe but who was the Antiquary?

Remy considered Scott's suggestion. He's right. I'm ripe... could use a shower. "Bien," he said eventually, slowly getting up. He was somewhat unsteady on his feet, still dizzy from the nightmare, but he managed to walk into the bathroom unaided. After turning on the shower, he took off his clothes and stepped beneath the warm spray. Mon Dieu, it's happenin' 'gain... de nightmares are back... after all dese years!

///

Remy put on some clean sweat pants and slipped into a long sleeved shirt. After putting on socks, he hesitantly descended the stairs. He heard Scott puttering in the kitchen, making breakfast. His stomach contracted, making it clear that food wasn't an option right now. Maybe he would manage to keep some orange juice down.

Scott looked up from making bacon and eggs when Remy hesitantly entered the kitchen. The Cajun's eyes remained fixed on the floor and after sitting down at the kitchen table, Remy remained quiet. "I hope you're hungry."

"Non, not really. Feel queasy." Remy cringed, finding that Scott had made bacon and eggs, toast, waffles and he had even managed to find cornflakes in one of the cupboards.

"Here, try to eat something." Scott placed a waffle on Remy's plate and poured the Cajun some orange juice. "You can have some coffee later, vitamins come first."

Remy played with his waffle, tearing off very small pieces and putting them reluctantly in his mouth. He had a hard time swallowing them and washed them down with orange juice. "Why are you still here, Scott?"

Scott had expected that question. Last night, Remy had already mentioned being surprised that he was fussing over the Cajun. "I'm here because I care, Remy."

Remy shrugged his shoulders once. "Dey need you at de mansion."

"I already called Warren and told him I'd be staying at the boathouse for a few days. He sounded worried and asked how you were doing." It was the truth. Warren had sounded concerned when they had talked earlier.

"Why would he care?" Remy shoved his plate away and nursed his orange juice.

"Warren's been trying and when you're honest with yourself, you have to admit he's been doing his best. Betsy and Warren even fought over you, do you know that?"

Remy's eyes suddenly glowed. "Fought?"

"Warren called it quits. They were fighting because he'd decided to give you another chance and Betsy was against it. Luckily Warren finally got his priorities straight. He's spending a lot of time with Bobby and Hank these days. You didn't know that?"

"Non," Remy whispered surprised. Mebbe Warren cares after all? Why is it so hard to believe dat? Mebbe 'cause he never tried to get 'long all dese years? "I'm sorry he and Betsy are no longer toget'er."

"Don't be," Scott said reassuringly, prodding Remy to eat more. "I think it's for the best, at least I hope so. I never really liked Betsy and Jean didn't like her that much either."

Remy suddenly realized his chance to change the topic of their conversation. It would take the focus away from him. "How are you doin', Scott? Wit'out Jean?"

Pain flared inside Scott's heart. "I still miss her every day." He understood Remy's tactic, might have used it himself when feeling cornered, and was determined not to let the Cajun get away with it. "But we were talking about you, not me."

Merde, he knows what I'm doin'!  Remy finally finished his waffle, but his stomach was still rebelling against the forced food intake.

"Remy, can I ask you something personal?" Scott watched Remy carefully while pouring them some coffee. He added sugar and milk to Remy's mug. No way would he let Remy drink it black and ruin his stomach. "Here." He handed Remy the mug and caught the cautious look the other man gave him.

"Whadda you wanna know?" Remy sipped his coffee, finally feeling human again as the caffeine did its job. His stomach oddly enough settled down and he allowed a weak smile to break through.

"Who's the Antiqua..." Scott stopped talking, seeing Remy's eyes darken.

"How do you know 'bout him?" He was sure he hadn’t mentioned anything about the old leech. Scott couldn't know about the Antiquary! Panicking, he looked at the front door, relieved that he had a way out if he decided to make a run for it.

"You screamed his name when you were having that nightmare. You also mentioned Hugo and Philippe and I know about them, but who's the Antiquary?"

Remy averted his eyes. "Someone from my past."

"Remy, did he... did he hurt you like Hugo did?" Scott bit his lip. He was treading on dangerous ground, but he had to know the truth if he wanted to help Remy. Please, don't let him say yes. How many people hurt him in the past? Just how many people abused him? And I never knew... some great team leader I am!

Remy sensed Scott's discomfort and anger and assumed he was the cause of it. Finding out just many times he had been abused must disgust Scott. Why was the other man still hanging in there?

"Remy? Did this Antiquary... abuse you?" Scott held his breath while Remy seemed to decide on an answer.

"Not physically," Remy admitted in the end. "He was a mutant, a telepat' who fed off ot'ers to stay 'live... I would feel him enter my mind and take what he needed." His hands rested idly in his lap. Why had he told Scott? "Pretty pat'etic, non? Can' even take care of myself."

"How old were you when this happened?" Scott's hand itched to cover Remy's, but he wasn't sure the Cajun would welcome the touch.

Remy laughed, bitterly. "I spent de first nine years of my life at de Velvet Ministry. Dat's what he called us... his collection of mutant chil'ren."

Scott managed to hide his shock. "So for the first nine years this Antiquary fed off of you and then you...?"

"I escaped... and ended up on de streets of N'Arlings. Had to stay 'live and Philippe showed me how to earn some money. I never let dem fuck me, mais Philippe needed money to buy dope and..."

"That's when Hugo entered the picture."

"Oui, Philippe had shot me up first and I came to when Hugo was 'ready in de room. I didn' stand a chance... I passed out and when I woke up Philippe was dying. Left de room in search of dope... wanted to lose myself in de drugs, mais den I ran into Jean-Luc LeBeau. He took me in, adopted me... helped me heal." This emotional bloodletting was taking its toll. He felt weak and worthless now that his past had caught up with him.

A lump had formed in Scott's throat and he cleared it, trying to hide his shock. Remy's childhood had been miserable. "And you never expected to ever run into Hugo again."

"I never t'ought it could happen." Remy stared into his now empty mug. Suddenly, he lifted his eyes. "Promise me you won' tell anyone."

"Remy..."

"Non! Dey 'ready don' t'ink much of me! Knowing that I was... a whore, dey would lose de li'l respect dey have for me. You can' tell anyone. Promise me!" Panicking, his fingernails clawed the wooden table.  "Promise me!"

"I promise," Scott said, acting on instinct and already regretting making that promise. "But I still think you're making a mistake. The others could help you deal with this."

"I've been dealin' wit' it for years," Remy said, embittered. "And I'll be dealin' wit' it for de rest of my life." Even though the professor knew about his past, he didn't feel comfortable turning to Charles for help.

"It doesn't have to be that way," Scott said, firmly. "Will you at least let me help you?"

"How? How can you help me?" Remy looked at Scott, pleadingly.

"I've got an idea," Scott whispered, still working out the details in his head. "I need to make a phone call... and no, I won't tell them what's going on," he added quickly to reassure Remy.

Remy's shoulders slumped forward. "It ain' like I can stop you..."

"Stay here, okay? I'll make that phone call and I'll be back in a few minutes." Scott waited for Remy to nod his head and then moved to the living room, picking up his cell phone.

Remy listened closely, afraid Scott would break his word.

"Yes, Bobby, it's me... Remy's doing better... why I'm calling? I need the Danger Room at my exposal tonight... let's say from ten to midnight. Can you make sure no one's around at that time...? Yes, you can? That's great... Yeah, I'll keep you informed. Thanks, Bobby."

"De Danger Room?" Remy slowly walked over to the couch and then collapsed on it. He monitored every move Scott made.

"Yes, the Danger Room." Scott sat down opposite Remy and kept the other man's gaze prisoner. "I need to adjust the program..."

"In what way?" Remy frowned, shivered and pulled up his knees to his chin. Curled up like that, he tried to fight an impending sense of doom.

"I know what Hugo looks like... of all the people you mentioned last night, he scares you the most, doesn't he?"

"Oui," Remy whispered, wondering what Scott was up to.

"I want to create a hologram that resembles Hugo..."

"Non!" Remy leapt to his feet and was about to flee the room when Scott grabbed his arm. He froze, staring at the fingers curled around his arm. He forced himself to look at Scott in order to drive away Hugo's face. It's only Scott, not Hugo...

"You have to face your fears, Remy, or you'll continue to run for the rest of your life and you have been running for a long time, haven't you?"

"Oui," Remy admitted. "But I can' face him... not even a hologram."

"Remy..." Scott moved closer and rested his hands on Remy's shoulders. "You have to realize that you're no longer a frightened nine year old who has no means of defense. You're a grown man now and that bo staff of yours can easily split his head open."

"Don' do dis to me..." Tears gathered in his eyes. "Don', please..." Scott was right; he still felt like a little boy, scared and defenseless. That was why he had run at Burger King.

"Remy, you have to face your demons... Running away only makes you miserable. Let's do this together, yes? You don't have to do this on your own... let me help." Scott suddenly found that he had taken hold of Remy's right hand and he was rubbing the knuckles soothingly. Remy didn't seem to notice the caress. Not wanting to draw attention to the gesture, he rubbed Remy's fingers once more and then released them. "What do you say? Are we going to do this? Together?"

"I'm scared..." Remy confessed. He had spent his life hiding and running away from his personal demons and now Scott wanted him to face them? "Can' do it on my own..."

"You don't have to," Scott said warmly and smiled. "We'll do it together."

///

Later that day, they left for the mansion and ran into Bobby who was keeping an eye on the Danger Room, as he had promised.

Bobby grinned at Scott, but his smile faded as he looked at Remy, who was slouching and staring at the floor. "Hey, Remy, are you okay? You look like hell."

"He's always honest," Scott commented, while shaking his head at Bobby's blunt remark. Remy didn't react and Scott sighed. "I trust no one's inside?"

"I told them the Danger Room was shut down due for maintenance and they didn't mind, glad to have the evening to themselves. Most have left the mansion. Only Warren stayed behind..."

"Thanks, Bobby," Scott said, sincerely. "Leave us alone and make sure Warren stays where he is?"

"Sure, we planned on playing some poker. I'll keep him occupied." Bobby hesitated briefly, then pushed on. "What are you going to do? Remy doesn't look like he's in any shape to make it through a training session."

"We're not going to load a training program," Scott reassured him. "Trust me, Bobby. Everything will be just fine in the end. I'll see to that."

Remy looked up, hearing those words. Why wasn't Scott giving up? Why pressure him into doing this? He had tried looking his demons in the eye, but it had been such a painful experience that he had never tried again.

"Sure, Slim." Bobby tried to make eye contact with Remy, but the Cajun stared in the opposite direction. Bobby sighed and whispered, "You know where to find me if you need help."

"Yes, I do," Scott quickly reassured him and he watched Bobby leave the area. "Come on, Remy, let's do this." Looking at the Cajun, he found that Remy was trembling. His face was deathly pale and Remy's hands had turned into fists, his fingernails biting into the soft flesh of his palm. Instinctively, Scott reached out and claimed Remy's right hand. He expected the Cajun to jerk away, but Remy allowed it, even tightened the hold a little.

"I don' wanna do dis," Remy murmured, upset. The idea of facing Hugo knotted his stomach and he felt like he was going to throw up at any moment now.

"I'll be with you, remember?" Scott led Remy inside and closed the door behind him. As promised, the Danger Room was empty. "Stay here, I have to program the computer." The expression in Remy's eyes worried him. "Remy, don't give up. We'll manage."

Remy slowly nodded his head. I trust you, Scott, dat ain' it, mais... I can' face Hugo...

Scott released Remy's hand, went into the control room and adjusted the program. He waited for the new program to come online and then left the control room to join Remy. "The hologram will come online in a few minutes..." He didn't want to startle Remy and wanted to prepare the other man for the shock. "What are you feeling right now?"

"Fear... I'm scared... his face haunted me so long... no way it'll stop hauntin' me after dis. I appreciate what you're doin', mais it won' work...I'm 'ready runnin' 'way... mentally." Cold sweat erupted from his pores and Remy barely suppressed the urge to run for the exit. "Please don' do dis..."

A light flickered and the hologram appeared. "Too late," Scott whispered. Suddenly Remy's scream echoed through the Danger Room and he reclaimed the Cajun's hand. "Shhh... everything will be all right." Remy had closed his eyes to keep the hologram out, but..." Open your eyes, Remy. Trust me. It's just a hologram and I'll stay... I won't leave you."

Remy shook violently. Opening his eyes, he flinched away from the hologram. Mon Dieu, it really resembled Hugo! Scott's memory was uncanny and the other man had remembered all the details. "Stop it... please make him go 'way..." Frozen, he stared at the hologram and suddenly... "Non!"

"What is it, Remy, tell me!" Scott captured the fleeing Cajun in a hug. "Tell me..."

"I'm back in de room... he's dere and... it hurts... can' fight him off. Philippe?" Remy's unseeing eyes looked about, searching for his dead friend. "Philippe, it hurts... make him stop... am bleedin'..." Remy collapsed on his knees and Scott went down with him. "Don' want him to fuck me, please make it stop, make it stop!"

Scott held him close and rubbed his back soothingly. "Remy, look at me?" It took him several minutes of coaxing to make Remy look at him. "Yeah, that's it, look at me..." Remy's violent reaction had taken him aback and he chided himself; he should have known Remy would suffer flashbacks. "You trust me, don't you, Remy?"

"Oui... mais make him go 'way, please?" Pleadingly, Remy looked up. "Can' do dis..."

"Yes, you can." Scott supported Remy as they got back to their feet. "I want you to turn around and look at him."

"Non! Don' make me do dat!" Remy struggled against Scott's hold, but found that the other man wasn't letting him go. "Please, Scott... please."

"We're going to turn around and you're going to look at him. Remy, I'm here. I'm holding you. It's only a hologram... it can't hurt you."

"Mais I remember him hurtin' me!" Remy yelled, feeling helpless and out of control.

"You were a nine year old boy back then. You're not a child anymore. You have to face him and realize he can't hurt you anymore. Let's turn around... slowly." Scott pulled Remy along until they stood in front of Hugo. Remy's eyes were glued to the hologram; his body tensed, then went limp. "You're doing great, Remy..."

Shivers ran down his spine, looking into Hugo's eyes and Remy wished Scott would let go of him, but the other man had a tight hold on him. Feeling like he was nine years old again, he relived the pain Hugo had inflicted when the bastard had pushed inside. "W-w-anna l-leave..." he stuttered.

"Remy, what do you feel?"

"Fear..."

"What about anger?" Scott hoped he could pull this off. He was no psychologist, didn't know a thing about helping survivors, but he was doing his best, acting on pure instinct.

"Anger?" Remy cocked his head. He had been afraid for so long that he had never questioned his feelings, but now he realized he was feeling more than fear... "Oui, I'm angry." This bastard had taken his virginity, had raped him when he had been only nine years old, had contributed to ruining his life and rendering him incapable of trusting people.

"Talk to me..." Scott encouraged.

"I never knew it would hurt dat much... I had seen Philippe gettin' fucked by his johns, mais it hurt so bad..."

Scott was increasingly having trouble controlling his own rage, hearing Remy's admission. "I'm sorry that happened to you..."

Remy tilted his head, as if listening to words only he could understand. "I'm angry... he hurt me so bad... de li'l boy is angry... he's kickin' and screamin'..."

"Why don't you let it out, Remy? Why don't you let go of that anger and hurt?" Scott held his breath, knowing they had reached a crucial point. From Remy's pockets he removed the bo staff, extended it and placed it in Remy's hand. "Don't fight the anger, Remy..."

Suddenly Remy moved away from him and he allowed it. Smiling contently, he watched Remy aim his bo staff at the hologram. The staff descended and if Hugo had been real, his skull would have split like a ripe melon. "Yes, that's it," he encouraged Remy. "Let it out."

The hologram took the beating Remy delivered and in the end, Scott's voice terminated the program. The hologram flickered and then disappeared. Remy was panting hard. His eyes glowed with a frightening intensity and Scott kept his distance. "Remy, can you hear me? Remy?"

"I've been 'fraid of him for all dese years..." Remy sobbed as he dropped his bo staff. Going down onto his knees, he wrapped his arms around his waist and rocked hard. "I never realized I could fight him off... 'ways felt like a chile when I saw his face in my nightmares."

Scott, realizing how emotionally exhausted Remy was, sat on his heels beside the Cajun and slowly folded an arm around the other man's waist. "How do you feel now?"

"Betta!" Remy shook his head in disbelief. "I feel betta! Don' know why, mais..." Slumping forward, he landed in Scott's arm. "sfunny..."

"What is?" Scott reacted at once and dragged Remy to his feet, grabbing the bo staff as he rose. You're never going to make it back to the boathouse... I'll take you to your room instead. Supporting Remy, he guided the Cajun into the corridor and then he headed for Remy's room. "What's funny?"

"Never t'ought I could do 'way wit' de fear, mais I did... don' feel 'fraid anymore..."

"Just pleasantly tired, I guess."

"Oui." Remy actually smiled. "Was a bon ideé..." Now that the emotional storm had past, he grew more aware of his surroundings. "Where are we goin'?"

"Your room," Scott informed him. Reaching the door to Remy's room, he opened it and led Remy to the bed. "Sit down before you keel over."

Bonelessly, Remy collapsed on his bed and curled up in a tight ball. "My bed... missed my bed... poppa gave it to me..."

Scott smiled, pushing back the covers. He briefly considered undressing Remy, but decided against it. Remy was doing well and he didn't want to risk a bad flashback, so he manhandled Remy until he was in the center of the bed. Just as he was about to tuck the Cajun in, Remy reached for him and got hold of his shirt.

"You're stayin'..." Sleepily, Remy pulled Scott closer until the other man was forced to lie down beside him.

"Okay, you win," Scott teased, relieved that his plan had worked. He pulled up the comforter, tucked them in and stared at the sleeping man beside him. Remy lay facing him, curled up in fetal position and holding his hand, clutching it close to his chest.

No, I'm not attracted to him... It's only been seven months... I can't have these thoughts... these feelings. Determined to fight this attraction, Scott froze as Remy moved closer. The Cajun's head now rested against his shoulder and Remy's arms sneaked across his waist, holding him tightly. I'm not attracted to him... I'm not falling in love with Remy... I'm not!

 

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