Title: Shadows
Author: Morgana (morganalebeau@yahoo.com)
Website: http://www.oocities.org/morganalebeau/
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Shadows 5 - Scott
By Morgana
Charles didn't sleep at all that night. He stayed up the majority of the night and after going to bed, he tossed and turned for hours. At dawn he dozed off for a few minutes, but then startled awake again.
She was gone. Jean's presence, which always hovered at the edges of his mind, had disappeared. He shivered violently; if he was experiencing Jean's absence like this, how was Scott dealing with the void, the emptiness that he had to be feeling in his mind now that Jean was gone?
Hopefully the team would be back soon. He feared for Scott's sanity; how would he cope with losing his beloved wife? It had never occurred to him that Scott or Jean would ever be separated. For some reason he had foolishly believed the couple would grow old together. The loss will devastate Scott. Will he be able to go on without Jean? He has to!
Charles left his bed, got dressed and quickly headed to the command room. After accessing the computer, he held his breath, waiting for any messages to pop up. Although he expected to see Scott on the screen, it was Storm, who appeared. She looked worried and her eyes were red; she's been crying! It's true then... My powers told me, but I didn't want to believe we had lost Jean forever. Listening closely, his heart missed a beat.
"Professor, we have been unable to contact the Phoenix. Scott is now convinced that Jean is gone. He claims that her thoughts are gone and he can no longer sense her via the telepathic link they shared."
"How did it happen?" Charles knew he was addressing a recorded image, but maybe Storm had included this vital information.
"It was... so tragic, sir. Jean accessed the Phoenix's powers and at first she was able to control the power, but then... they merged... that's what Lilandra said. The Phoenix and Jean merged fully. Jean's body disappeared, was burned to a cinder and then the Phoenix took off. Sir, Scott almost collapsed when the Phoenix left. He mumbled that Jean was gone forever and we pursued the Phoenix for some time, hoping to prove Scott wrong, but we failed to establish contact." Storm's eyes filled with tears, but she tried to remain calm and in control of her feelings. "I relieved Scott of his leadership for the time being. He's in no condition to lead the team."
A fist squeezed Charles' heart, making it hard for him to breathe. They had lost Jean. He couldn't sense her presence any longer and Scott claimed that the telepathic link was gone. That could only mean that Jean had ceased to exist... maybe she had become a part of the Phoenix, merging with her as Storm had mentioned. "She won't be back..." Turning his attention back to Storm he listened to her words.
"We'll be back in 36 hours, sir. Scott's completely unresponsive at the moment. Hank's afraid Scott's becoming catatonic and wants to take him to his lab the moment we arrive at the mansion. Scott will need you, sir. Maybe you can reach him; he's shut us out."
The screen darkened as the message ended and Charles needed a moment to compose himself. Shaking his head, he mumbled softly, "We lost her... lost Jean..." And Hank was right. Scott was going to need all the support he could get. Storm had said that Scott was shutting them out, isolating himself and Charles forced himself to regain control of his feelings. Scott needed him, his support, and his help.
But then another shattering thought hit him. "I've got to tell Remy..." Jean and Remy were friends. Remy really liked her and Jean had a weak spot for him. This is going to be hard. Emotionally, Remy might not know how to handle the loss; his empathy might work against him. Maybe I should keep him away from Scott... Scott's loss and pain would enter Remy's mind tenfold and our Cajun doesn't have the means to cope with such strong emotions right now. He still needs to learn how to handle them... But I can worry about that later. First I have to tell Remy the dreadful news...
Feeling old and discouraged, Charles left the room and headed for the boathouse.
///
Remy knew something was wrong when he picked up on Charles' sense of loss and pain. He hadn't been scanning his surroundings; Charles' emotions suddenly flowed past his defenses and into his mind. Mon Dieu, he should take Charles up on his offer to help him build even stronger shields!
He jumped to his feet and left the bedroom, where he had been taking a catnap, still feeling edgy from last night's run-in with Creed. For most of the night he had been awake, listening to the sounds the boathouse created, afraid of feeling Creed's vile mind all over again.
After descending the stairs, he raced to the door and opened it. Charles' hand was still in the air ready to knock and now fell onto his lap. Words were unnecessary between them. Remy felt the loss in Charles' emotions, saw the images in the older man's mind and bowed his head. She's dead? Non, she can' be dead!
Remy, I'm truly sorry, but we have to accept the inevitable. Charles steered his hoverchair past Remy and took hold of the younger man's right hand, pulling his student over to the couch after closing the door. Sit down, you look like you're about to keel over. He needed Remy to be strong now, needed the Cajun's help.
"How can you be sure she's dead?" His voice trembled and Remy tried to swallow past the lump that had formed in his throat. "She can' be dead."
"I know you liked her," Charles started, studying Remy's facial expression closely. The news had shocked Remy, but hopefully the younger man would recover and offer his support once Remy realized why he had come here. "I know it's the truth because I can no longer feel her. Jean and I were close; a bond existed between us, but it's gone now."
Remy wiped away the few tears that had managed to escape his eyes. "You can no longer feel her?" That was bad, really bad! He didn't want proof that Jean was gone; he wanted evidence that she was still out there!
"I received a message from Storm. Apparently, Jean and the Phoenix merged, became one new presence and... Scott's catatonic. He refuses to react, is burying himself in his mind. It must be truly frightening for him," Charles explained, while looking Remy in the eyes. "Scott and Jean were linked telepathically and he hasn't been alone for years. All the time they were together, she lived in his mind. The emptiness must cause him excruciating pain."
Remy's watering eyes grew big. "Mon Dieu, I never t'ought of dat! He's catatonic?"
"Henry will take Scott to his lab to commence treatment, but he can't do it on his own. We might need your help, Remy." Remy's body tensed and Charles raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong?"
"My help?"
Charles drew in a deep breath and prayed Remy wouldn't panic. "Remy, you're a telepath and an empath. I'll try to connect with Scott to draw him out of his catatonic state, but I'm no empath. I can't identify with his feelings or show him that he isn't alone by sending him my emotions. I'm limited to thoughts and if I fail..."
Suddenly Remy understood. "You can' ask me to do dat. I can' enter his mind and manipulate his feelings."
Charles shook his head. "I'm not asking you to manipulate his feelings, Remy. I merely want you to assure him that he isn't the only one mourning Jean's death; that there's a reason for him to return to the present. I need your empathy, Remy."
But Remy looked unconvinced. "I still don' know if I can do dat, m'sieur. I 'ways kept my empathy to myself. I have no experience wit' enterin' people's minds."
"And I don't have the time to teach you," Charles mumbled. "Look, Remy, this is important. The team needs you."
"De team?" Remy arched an eyebrow.
"Nobody wants to lose Scott... I don't want to lose Scott. He's the son I never had..." Charles wasn't sure if he regretted making that admission. "I don't have much family left, but Jean and Scott..."
Remy nodded his head, remembering Dave and Benjamin and how close he had felt to them. Losing them had almost destroyed him. "I'll do my best," he promised. "Mais I won' manipulate his feelings." Scott would hate him afterwards and the rest of the team would shun him even more.
"Thank you, Remy. We still have a few hours left until the Blackbird arrives. Maybe I can teach you some basic empathic strategies."
Reluctantly, Remy nodded his head. He didn't want to learn how to use his empathy on others, but this was a medical emergency. "Show me."
///
Remy watched from a distance as the Blackbird finally touched down. Charles has asked him to wait in his office, just in case the professor needed his help, and he had given in.
The first person to leave the Blackbird was Storm. She was obviously distressed and that worried Remy in turn. Storm seldom let her emotions get the better of her and he realized how serious the situation was. Next, Rogue and Joe exited the plane and joined Storm and the professor. He tried hard not to look at her, but failed. She looked beautiful and the fact that Joe was touching her bare skin probably had everything to do with that.
Glancing back to the Blackbird, he saw Betsy and Logan exit, walking side by side. Both looked depressed and Remy wondered where Warren was. Didn't Warren usually escort Betsy?
His question was answered in the next moment, when Warren and Bobby appeared. They looked pale and shocked, and waited for Hank, who was carrying Scott, to join them. Remy cringed, seeing Scott's catatonic state. Scott would never have allowed anyone to carry him if he had been in his normal state of mind, but things had changed. Hank gently carried Scott while Bobby and Warren hovered close by. Which makes sense... aren' dey part of de original team? Now dat Jean's gone, dis is all dey have left.
Remy? Charles looked up at his study and caught Remy's silhouette. Scott's in a bad way.
Until now, Remy had managed not to reach out to Scott to probe his mind. But urged on by Charles' words, he tentatively reached out and pulled back immediately, feeling the all consuming void in Scott's mind where Jean's presence had been. Charles was right; Scott was catatonic. What do we do now, m'sieur? Do you t'ink you can reach him?
I have to find out. Don't go anywhere and stay close. I might send for you later. Charles momentarily broke the connection to concentrate on Scott. Nothing... his mind was empty.
"I'm taking him to my lab," Hank informed them. "I'll do my best, but..." His voice faded, knowing better than to make promises he couldn't keep. Scott had never given up like this before and it worried him, seeing his old friend this helpless.
"I'll join you in the lab. Storm, the debriefing can wait. I need to check on Scott first." Charles waited until Storm nodded her head and then he followed Bobby, Warren, Hank and Scott to the lab. It didn't surprise him that the original members wanted to be close to Scott. He glanced at the rest of the team, Storm clearly felt left out. "Go, rest... we'll talk later."
Storm left with the others. Charles quickly followed Hank and contacted Remy again. Please come to the lab as well. I've got the feeling I'll need your help.
What 'bout Warren? He won' want me dere... Maybe he should wait until Warren had left before joining the professor.
Let me worry about Warren. Just come down here, now. Charles felt Remy's reluctance to join them, but the younger man was on his way to the lab. Good.
///
Hank placed Scott gently on an exam bed and Warren and Bobby stayed close, watching their catatonic friend. Charles knew he had to talk to Warren before Remy joined them. He steered his hoverchair toward Warren and waited until the other man met his eyes.
"Sir?" Warren felt confused. Scott had always been the strong one, the rock he had depended on. It was disconcerting to see him like this. It felt surreal, like they were stuck in an alternate universe, except this was reality, their own universe.
"I've asked Remy to join us and he's on his way to the lab." Charles studied Warren closely and noticed the anger in his eyes. "Remy's an empath, Warren. Scott's locked us out and I'm not sure I can bring him back, but an empath surely can."
"I don't want that traitor close to Scott. I'll ask Bets to..." Warren shook his head. "I don't want him around!"
Charles' expression changed and became firm and authoritative. "Warren, Betsy is a telepath, not an empath. You can't let your anger get in the way of this. Scott needs help. You're Scott's friend; don't deny him this."
"An empath? "Warren suddenly realized what Charles had revealed to him. "Are you telling me the thief's a fucking empath? Why didn't we know? Is it just another one of his secrets?"
"I knew he was an empath," Bobby said softly.
"And so did I." Hank nodded his head once. "Warren, the professor's right. Scott needs all the help he can get."
"Then why didn't I know...? Why not tell me?" Stubbornly, Warren glared at the professor. "Has the thief been manipulating us all this time?"
Charles was growing angry. "Think, Warren! If he had used his empathy on us, we would be his friends now. He could have 'charmed' us into liking him, loving and adoring him. Instead, you hate him! Does that sound like he's been manipulating you? The reason why he kept this secret was because he knew you'd react like that. Storm, Rogue, Betsy, they'll reach the same conclusion you did. That's why he didn't tell us!"
Warren briefly closed his eyes to escape Charles' angry eyes. What Charles said made sense, he had to admit that. "But he's a fucking empath..." He opened his eyes and met Charles' glare. "Let me guess, he's a telepath as well? Is that how he managed to throw Bets out of his mind?"
Charles merely nodded once. "And we're not going to fight about this. Remy will help me reach Scott and if you don't like that, I suggest you leave now."
Warren felt undecided. He hated the Cajun, but realized that Scott might need an empath's help. He didn't want to desert his friend right now, but wasn't sure he wanted to face Gambit. The choice was taken away from him as the door opened and revealed Remy LeBeau.
Remy froze, staring into Warren's icy eyes. Merde, why hadn't the professor listened to him? This was a mistake! Warren would never let him close to Scott!
"Warren..." Charles whispered the name softly, then made eye contact with Warren. "Let Remy help."
Warren waged an inner war. He simply didn't trust the thief, but Scott needed help! "I'll keep my eye on you, Cajun."
"Remy, come here..." Charles acted at once as Warren stepped aside to let Remy pass.
Bobby smiled reassuringly as Remy shyly glanced at him. "Yeah, help Slim, Remy."
Remy felt uncomfortable and nervous when he stepped up to the professor. Why had he ever let his guard down and told them about his mental powers? "M'sieur?" Wasn't Charles going to try connecting with Scott first? Wasn't he just supposed to be back up?
"I want you to monitor Scott while I try contacting him. Use your empathy to find out why he's catatonic." Charles steered his hoverchair until he had reached the head of the exam table and placed his hands on either side of Scott's head. "Should I fail, I want you to try next, Remy."
Remy swallowed hard, growing increasingly nervous under Warren's suspicious glare. Warren really didn't want him here and only allowed him to stay because Scott was important to him.
Charles concentrated on his task and gently pushed past Scott's defenses. Slowly, he ventured deeper into his student's mind, shivering as he felt only emptiness and cold. Scott, where are you? Why are you ignoring me? Please, Scott... we should talk about what happened. We need to address Jean...
Argh... nooooo...
Remy clutched his head as Scott's pain-filled wail flowed past his shields and into his mind. Have to stay in control... have to stay calm... can' let Scott down now... Scott's agony doubled and Remy swayed on his feet. His eyes filled with tears up and his entire body shivered. The pain... the agony... Suddenly, a hand came to rest at the small of his back, steadying him. Confused, he looked at Warren, who was helping him stay on his feet.
"That bad?" Warren's face briefly contorted. "When Scott realized she was gone he collapsed. None of us could reach him... can you?" It looked like the professor had given up as well; Charles' hands had dropped and now rested in his lap. "I want him back, LeBeau, Scott's my friend."
Bobby moved a little closer and placed his hand on Warren's shoulder. "Don't, Warren. You don't have to push him. I'm sure Remy wants to help."
Hank joined them. "Scott's vital signs are alarmingly out of control. He needs rest."
"No," Charles spoke up. "We can't allow Scott to lock us out. Remy, I want you to try... now."
Remy slowly shook his head. He had managed to compose himself again and stepped away from Warren, feeling uncomfortable beneath the other man's touch. "I can' do it."
"You have to try, Remy," Bobby said, softly. "We lost Jean... we can't afford to lose Scott as well. We're friends and friends help each other. Give it a try, don't let Scott get away with this."
Hank nodded approvingly. "Scott's convinced he's got nothing left to live for. You have to prove him wrong."
"How can I?" Remy wondered aloud; like he had something left to live for!
"Hank, pull up a chair for Remy..." Charles instructed. "Remy, sit down and place your hands on Scott's head like I did... yes, that's it." He felt relieved now that Remy was following his orders. Briefly, he had been worried that Remy would lack the courage to help. "Remember what I taught you... relax, reach out... try to feel Scott's feelings and let yourself fall... don't worry... I'll pull you back, should you lose yourself in his feelings... trust me..."
Remy closed his eyes and focused inward. I can do dis... I have to do dis... I owe Scott and Jean... dey came back for me. Using the relaxation techniques Mattie had taught him as a child, he let go of the tension and allowed himself to soak up Scott's feelings. Mon Dieu! His pain... de sense of loss... It's cold and dark in here... I don' wanna be in his mind! I don' belon' here!
Remy, don't panic, Charles advised. Let Scott pull you closer. Don't fight his despair, let it pull you close and follow it to the core where you will find him.
I'm scared... Remy admitted, but he pushed on, encouraged by Charles' words. The cold pain wrapped itself around his mind and pulled him deeper. Images of Jean flashed around him, distorted by the darkness. Her face was slowly fading and in its place appeared the blinding light of the Phoenix, roaring into Scott's mind. De connection... it was ripped 'part... he didn' get a chance to pull 'way.
That's why he's catatonic. Remy, you need to fill Jean's place... Charles rested his hand on Remy's, which was twitching and turning into a claw. It's the only way to guide him back. He needs you to show him the way. Jean's gone and she can't help him, but you can. Form a temporary link and pull Scott to the surface again.
I can' replace Jean! Remy trembled. Had Charles really said that? No one could take Jean's place!
Do you want Scott to stay like this for the rest of his life? Because that's what will happen if you refuse to help him. Do you think Jean would approve of Scott slipping into a vegetative state? Don't you think she'd want him to live his life to the fullest? Jean can't ask you to help Scott, so I'm asking in her place. Don't let Scott down. Charles hoped Remy understood how important it was that he tried. You're Scott's last hope.
Remy drew in a deep breath. Scott was drifting away from him, leaving him alone in a dark corner of the other man's mind. He had to take the initiative if he wanted Scott to follow him home. Making this commitment scared him. He had never done something like this before. Never before had someone been dependant on him! Determination, born out of desperation, urged him on and he dived deeper into Scott's psyche, trying to establish contact.
Scott, wait, don' run! Suddenly, the pain was back, surrounding him. He had found Scott, had found the core of the pain that the broken link had caused. Scott hadn't had any time to prepare himself for the shattering of the link and had been telepathically injured when the Phoenix had ripped the bond apart.
Who are you? Why are you here? Do I know you? And where's Jean? Why can't I feel her any longer?
Remy cringed, hearing Scott's despair. C'est moi, Cyke. It's Gambit. De professor wants me to help you, guide you back.
Where's Jean? Why can't I feel her any longer? Where is she?
Scott sounded frantic, and Remy didn't know how to tell his friend the truth. How did you tell a man that his wife was dead?
Where's Jean? Scott yelled.
Remy, you've got to take control of the situation, Charles advised. He can't hear me. Scott only allowed you in... use your empathy, Remy!
Remy felt torn. Merde, he couldn't tell Scott Jean had died, couldn't be the bearer of such terrible news. Feeling Scott's despair, he was jerked into action. Cyke? You know me, it's Gambit, remember me? I'm a friend... I'm here to take you back... de professor really wants to talk to you, mon ami.
Just tell me what happened to Jean! Scott was panicking. Why wasn't Jean close and what was Remy doing in his mind?
Remy's heart missed a beat. Cyke, remember de Phoenix and...
Scott screamed... Remy cried out helplessly and Warren and Bobby moved quickly when Remy threatened to fall from the chair he was sitting on.
"Sir, what's happening?" Warren looked at Charles for answers.
"Scott finally remembered what happened to Jean and he's gone into shock..." Charles felt like he was losing control. Remy, can you hear me?
Please, m'sieur... stop de pain...
Only Scott can stop the pain. Tell him he's hurting you! Charles reached out again, trying to establish some sort of contact with Scott, but the younger man refused to acknowledge his presence.
Remy started to pant hard as Scott's pain slashed through him. Cyke, please... can' take dis any more... He was chasing Scott, searching the dark places in the other man's mind. Don' hide, mon ami, I jus' wanna help!
She's dead! Scott screamed his pain, his loss. Jean's gone! The Phoenix took her! Took her away from me!
Cyke... Scott, please stop! You're hurtin' me! De pain's too much! Remy squirmed on the chair.
"Let's help him lie down," Hank suggested and watched as Bobby and Warren carefully placed Remy on the floor.
Bobby pushed a pillow beneath Remy's head and grabbed the Cajun's hand, hoping Remy sensed his support. "Hank, what's happening?" He didn't dare address Charles, who was obviously concentrating on staying in touch with Remy.
"I don't know, Robert," Hank said honestly. "But we should put a stop to this," he said, turning toward Charles. "Scott's vital signs are out of control."
"Not yet," Charles forced the words out from between clenched lips. "Remy's too close to let go now." Remy, if necessary use force to pull Scott back!
Non! I won' use force 'gainst him! Scott tried to pull away from Remy, but he followed. Scott, you can' run 'way. Jean wouldn' want you to run!
Get out of my head, Remy! I didn't invite you in and I don't want you here. Just get the fuck out!
Scott's words hurt and Remy almost turned away... almost. Love, and fear of rejection were waging a battle and he wasn't sure which one would win. He was still in love with Scott and couldn't bear the thought of leaving him behind, but Scott obviously didn't want him around, so why was he still here? Please, Scott, lemme guide you back home. Dey want you to wake up.
Who does? The only one who matters to me is Jean and she's gone!
De professor's worried. Warren and Bobby haven' left your side since Jean... died... Hank's monitorin' you and de ot'ers want you back at well. Dey're your friends. Dey need you and you need dem. Jean wouldn' want you to bury yourself 'live, Scott. She would want you to live your life and be wit' your friends, to allow dem to comfort you. Remy paused, wondering if he should piss Scott off or not. Jean would kick your ass for wallowin' in self-pity like dis. Remy held his breath.
Scott 's anger suddenly disappeared. Remy was right. Jean would kick his butt for acting like this. She had taught him to face his problems, not run away from them. But the prospect of living his life without Jean to complete him, terrified him. How could he live like that? Live with the constant emptiness that reminded him of Jean's death? She had been part of him for so many years that he couldn't imagine a life without her. I can't do this on my own, Remy.
You don' have to. De professor's here as well and we can guide you back, mais you have to come willingly. I won' force you to come back... Remy felt tired and drained; Scott's depression was forcing its way into his mind and he wasn't sure he was strong enough to fight for the both of them. Briefly, he thought back to Sinister telling him that he was headed for another emotional breakdown because he couldn't control his empathy. Had Sinister been right? He had to take that chance. Maybe if he could pull Scott's depression into his mind, it would give Scott the chance to grow strong again.
Soaking up Scott's dark feelings, his breathing slowed. A film of sweat appeared on his brow, but he didn't give up and continued to pull Scott closer to consciousness. M'sieur, need your help...
Tell me what to do! Charles concentrated on Remy's thoughts, realizing the Cajun needed his guidance. Remy was still too inexperienced to bring Scott back alone. Listen to my mind voice, Remy. Use it as a beacon. Can you feel its pull? Don't fight it...
Oui, m'sieur, I hear you. Cyke, do you hear de professor as well? Hopefully Scott hadn't changed his mind and was still willing to leave his catatonic state.
Yes, I hear the professor, Remy. The only thing that kept Scott going was the fact that Jean would want him to make the best of it. He owed it to Jean to return to the team, honor her memory and try to be an asset to the X-Men, although he doubted he could still lead the team. Storm had led the team before and she had done a great job back then. Surely she would agree to assume leadership again!
Cyke? Are you still wit' me? Don' make me come back to get you! Remy forced back his panic. He couldn't force Scott to follow him back, but he prayed the other man wouldn't give up now. Scott?
I'm still with you, Scott assured Remy. Part of him wished he could stay in the darkness, hide from life and from his loss, but the team wouldn't let them.
Professor? M'sieur? What do I do now? Straining his neck, Remy managed to catch a glance of Scott's face and he cursed the visor, which prevented him from looking into the other man's eyes. "M'sieur?"
"You did well, Remy," Charles quickly reassured him. Scott was waking up and feeling disorientated. "Henry, you'd better keep a sedative ready. We might have to put him to sleep again... depends on how agitated he is."
Warren looked from Scott to Gambit and saw the exhaustion in the black on red eyes. When Charles had suggested Remy go in after Scott he had doubted the wisdom of that decision, but it looked like Charles had made the right call. Bobby's hand, which rested on his arm, gave him a gentle squeeze and as he looked at his friend, he found Bobby smiling. He couldn't deny feeling equally relieved.
"Bringing Scott back was the easy part," Charles warned them. "Now he has to work through losing Jean. He'll need our support."
"He has it," Warren vowed passionately. Suddenly, Scott moaned softly and Warren moved a little closer. "Scott? Can you hear me?"
"Yes..." Scott's voice was hoarse. "Headache..."
"That's normal," Charles quickly assured him. "The link was ripped apart and we had to enter your mind to get you back."
"She's... dead... dead..." Scott licked his lips, growing agitated again. "Why? Why did she leave me? Sir, why?"
"Henry?" Charles gestured Hank to inject the sedative when Scott began to squirm on the exam table, almost dropping onto the floor. Warren and Bobby managed to stop him and pushed him back onto the exam table.
Hank gently injected the sedative into Scott's right arm and smoothed back the hair that had fallen into Scott's face.
"Scott, I want you to rest. Don't fight it," Charles took hold of Scott's hand, rubbing the skin softly. "Relax..."
Scott lacked the energy to fight back his tears. "Sir, how? How am I supposed to live without her? Without Jean... my Jean... my love... my wife?"
Charles swallowed hard. "We'll do this together, Scott. I promise." Scott slipped into sleep again and Charles tucked a warm blanket around Scott's form.
"Professor? Hank? Gimme a hand? Remy's lost consciousness." They had been so focused on Scott that they had forgotten about Remy! Luckily, Bobby had kept an eye on him. Lifting Remy was almost beyond his strength and Bobby felt relieved when Hank took the unconscious man from him.
Hank placed Remy on the exam table to Scott's right and hooked the younger man up to a monitor, placing electrodes on his brow. "I'll run a test on him. Once we get back the results we know what happened."
"Bringing back Scott exhausted him," Charles said. "Remy never used his powers to this extent before. I suggest you let him rest. He'll probably wake up in a few hours and complain about vertigo and a headache. However, he should recover quickly."
"Professor, what about Scott? What do I tell the others?" Warren shuffled his feet, eager to tell the rest of the team that Scott had briefly regained consciousness.
"You can tell them that Scott's no longer catatonic." Charles exchanged a glance with Hank. "But he'll remain in the lab and so will Remy. No visitors."
Warren nodded his head and moved toward the doorway. "Are you coming, Drake?" Now that the crisis was over, Hank probably wanted his patients to have some privacy.
Bobby cleared his throat, looked at Scott and Remy one more time and then joined Warren.
After the two men had left the lab, Charles addressed Hank. "Scott's emotionally a mess."
"And what about our Cajun friend? Can he deal with Scott's pain?" Hank was watching his patients' vital signs. Remy's had already stabilized and Scott's frantic heartbeat was slowing down as well.
"Remy's strong... I'm more worried about Scott. Jean was his life." Charles pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling surprisingly helpless.
Hank nodded his head. "He loved Jean so much..."
"And I'm counting on that love to pull him through. Remy handled the situation well by telling Scott that Jean would want him to go on instead of burying himself alive..." Remy would be instrumental to Scott's recovery and he hoped that the young Cajun was strong enough to fight for both of them.
Chapter Six - Remy
Charles steered his hoverchair closer to the exam beds. Scott was still sound asleep due to the sedative, but Remy was stirring from a restless sleep. He was squirming uncomfortably and Charles couldn't help feeling worried. He had witnessed Remy's actions and wondered what absorbing Scott's depression had done to him. The young Cajun could be headed for a major emotional breakdown.
Remy groaned, turned onto his right side and slowly opened his eyes. The dim lights hurt his sensitive eyes and he quickly closed them again. Slowly, he became aware of the dark, cold, blanket that had wrapped itself around his very soul. It was dragging him down, almost rendering him motionless. He didn't feel like moving, like talking, or even acknowledging the professor's presence.
"Remy? I know you're awake, can you hear me?" Charles moved his hoverchair to the other side of the exam table so he could see Remy's face. The young Cajun shivered violently and Charles added another warm blanket. Patiently, he waited for Remy to look at him. "Remy? What's going on? I can only help if you talk to me."
Talking seemed utterly useless and Remy shook his head. The darkness was inside his mind, covering his thoughts and rendering him helpless. All he wanted was to be left alone.
"Remy? Please look at me? Open your eyes for me?" Charles exchanged a concerned look with Hank, who nodded his head, encouragingly. They had to lure Remy into talking, into responding.
"Don', m'sieur... jus' lemme be..." Uttering the few words exhausted him. A terrible weight was pushing him down and his muscles were painfully tense.
Charles moved even closer and gently rested his hand on Remy's brow. "What did you do to bring Scott back?" He was carefully probing Remy's mental state, but the younger man easily threw him out of his mind, leaving Charles gasping for breath. "Remy, I can't help you like this."
Don' want your help... Remy curled up beneath the blankets, determined not to let Charles nose around in his mind. "Wanna go back to sleep."
"Remy, we need to talk, discuss what happened while you were inside Scott's mind." Charles had composed himself again, but still felt shocked that Remy had managed to throw him out like that. How strong was the young Cajun? Charles doubted Remy had reached his full potential yet.
"Is Scott bien?" Remy was tempted to roll onto his other side to check on him, but repressed that urge. Scott wasn't interested in him anyway, why pretend differently?
"We had to sedate him," Charles explained. "Scott was agitated and disorientated. He's asleep now."
"Mais he'll be bien?" Remy shivered beneath the blankets, but not from the cold. His body felt warm, but his mind felt like ice. His thoughts were running in circles and feelings of self-hate and guilt were making him nauseous. What was Charles doing here, wasting his time on him?
"I don't know," Charles said honestly. "He took the first step by following you back, but now it's up to us to help him complete the healing process. He's going to need your help, Remy." Charles attempted to probe Remy's mind again and this time he succeeded, but barely. "You're feeling this low because you absorbed Scott's depression. You have to lower your shields so the feelings have a way out."
But Remy wasn't listening to Charles, lost in his feelings of failure and guilt. His whole life was a mess, a combination of big mistakes and bad choices. He didn't really deserve another chance, didn't deserve to be part of the X-Men or even to stay here. Why the hell was he hanging on? Shouldn't he know by now that he was a complete fuck-up and that he only hurt the ones close to him? Maybe it was time to end it all.
"Remy..." Charles' concern increased, sensing in which direction Remy's thoughts were heading. "Don't think about suicide. It's Scott's depression, not yours. You have to let it go."
But Remy didn't answer, willing himself to fall asleep again. Hopefully Charles would be gone once he woke again. Then he would slip out of Henri's lab and leave Westchester. Find myself a nice quiet place to die. Den people can stop worryin' 'bout me. It's not like I'm addin' somet'in' to deir lives. I'm only makin' dem miserable.
Charles felt Remy slip away from him and he tried to stop the Cajun. Remy, don't you dare do this to me! But his words were in vain as Remy continued to drift away from him. Turning toward Hank, he felt helpless. "He won't let me help him. What do we do now? We have to find a way to reach him."
"Maybe Scott will be able to reach him?" Hank looked from Remy to his other patient. "Do you think he'll be up to reaching out to Remy when he wakes up?"
Charles shrugged his shoulders. "We'll have to wait and see. If Remy truly took Scott's depression away he might feel stronger when he wakes up." Charles wished he had foreseen this development when he had asked Remy to help. He should have taken into account that an empath would be inclined to absorb Scott's feelings of guilt, but instead he had pushed Remy into unknown territory. What if they failed to show Remy how to let go of Scott's guilt? He refused to lose Remy over this. It's my fault. I made the mistake and now Remy's paying for it. I have to find a way to make Remy understand why he's feeling this way...
///
Scott slowly drifted toward consciousness, still fighting the return to the surface. Jean's absence physically hurt and a throbbing headache made it hard to think rationally. Before opening his eyes, he wanted to mentally review everything that had happened these last few days.
The day he had lost Jean was the worst in his entire life. One moment the link had been buzzing and powerful and the next the Phoenix had ripped it apart. The link had snapped, and he hadn't been able to stop the Phoenix from consuming Jean. He had felt how Jean had become a part of the Phoenix, had heard her parting words, a promise of eternal love. A last goodbye had swept through his mind and then Jean had ceased to exist as an individual.
Forever, he had lost her forever. Her love for him was no more. Only the roar of the Phoenix had drifted into his mind when he had reached out for Jean one last time. The emptiness had overwhelmed him and he had lost himself in the void.
But then something extraordinary had happened. Someone had reached out for him, had managed to draw him out of his shell. It had been a male voice and he had followed it back to consciousness. At a certain moment Charles had been there as well, but that first presence puzzled him. Why had he obeyed that voice?
Gambit! Scott tried to move, but an overall sense of weakness prevented him from sitting up. Remy! It was Remy who pulled me back! Recent events returned to him. Jean had welcomed Remy home with open arms and they had learned that the Cajun possessed empathic and telepathic abilities. But why had it been Remy who had pulled him back? Why hadn't Charles entered his mind? Remy lacked experience and training and must have acted on instinct while talking him into coming back.
Oh my God, Jean! Why did you leave me? I need you so badly. I don't know how to go on living without you. For so many years your thoughts accompanied mine and now there's nothing left. But the guilt and the pain that had overwhelmed him earlier weren't that strong anymore and they didn't allow him to flee into oblivion.
"Scott, do you hear me?"
Charles' voice formed an unwelcome intrusion, but he reacted to it, obeying ingrained instincts. "Yes, sir."
"Do you know what happened?" Charles monitored Scott closely, relieved that at least one of them seemed willing to cooperate.
Scott laughed, embittered. "How could I forget? The Phoenix took Jean away from me!" Finally, he managed to push himself into a sitting position. His vision was a bit blurry at first, but then Charles' face came in to focus. Suddenly, he realized that he was in Hank's lab. When had they gotten back to Earth? Why didn't he remember the trip home?
"I'm sorry, Scott. I loved Jean as well." Charles leaned in closer, knowing that his words did little to comfort Scott; the loss was too great. "How are you feeling?"
"Sad... lonely... and I'm angry." Scott looked about, met Hank's concerned eyes and then looked away again. "The Phoenix took Jean away from me... I don't know how to live without her."
"You don't have to do this on your own," Charles assured Scott. "Can you sit upright? Henry wants you to drink something."
Hank joined them and handed Scott a glass of water. When Scott managed to take hold of it and to place it at his lips, Hank let go of the glass. Scott's hands trembled slightly, but his patient managed to empty the glass without spilling its content. Scott's readings were stabilizing now that his patient was awake and Hank looked over at Remy. It was impossible to tell whether the young Cajun was asleep or merely pretending to be asleep.
"Scott, what's the last thing you remember?" Charles moved his hoverchair closer to the exam table and by doing that, he offered Scott a view of Remy, who was still resting on the other exam table.
"He guided me back... Said Jean would kick my ass for wallowing in self-pity and he's right. Jean would never let me get away with it." Scott stared at Remy's back. "Is he asleep?"
Charles drew in a deep breath. "Remy absorbed your depression," he started, "and now he's trapped in your dark feelings of pain and guilt."
Scott moved, trying to find a more comfortable position. "He's experiencing my feelings?" Somehow, that angered him. Only he was allowed to feel this depressed; Jean had been his wife and he had failed to bring her back.
"No, not any more." Charles' gaze became sad. "I think he's reliving his own failures right now. He refuses to lower his shields to offer the depression a way out and I can't convince him to trust me."
Scott, who was sitting completely upright now, moved slowly, but managed to put his feet onto the floor. "Do you think I can help?" Cautiously, he put his weight on his feet and swayed briefly. Luckily Hank was close and caught him when he threatened to fall.
"Maybe," Charles said, unwilling to offer false hope.
"Why did he enter my mind? Jean told me about his mental abilities, but I doubt he ever received adequate training. Wasn't it dangerous?" Scott pushed his pain back in to the recesses of his mind and forced himself to concentrate on Charles and Remy. As long as he didn't think of Jean the pain was bearable. So that's why I'm feeling better. He took away my depression and now he's stuck inside the negative feelings. What do I do?
"Scott? Why don't you talk to Remy? Convince him that we're here to help?" Charles whispered his next words. "But you should know that his self-esteem is very low right now. He doubts we really care about him."
Scott nodded his head once, understanding what Remy was going through. Until some hours ago, he had felt worthless and useless. "I'll try, sir." With Hank's support, he managed to walk over to Remy and accepted the chair Hank placed next to the exam table. After sitting down, he sighed, relieved to be off his feet.
Remy's eyes were tightly shut and his right hand clawed the blanket. The long auburn locks hid part of his features, but failed to conceal the paleness of his skin. Why had Remy taken such a risk? Why enter his mind and take away his depression?
"Remy? Can you hear me?" Scott finally decided on a game plan and pulled his chair closer to the exam table. "Remy? We need to talk. You took away my depression and now you're feeling guilty and miserable. You're confusing my emotions with yours."
A soft moan escaped Remy's lips and it was the only sign that the Cajun had actually heard his words. Now that he had a goal to focus on, some of his old determination returned. Remy had tried to help him and was now paying the price. That was completely unacceptable. "Remy, damn it, listen to me! Don't you dare pull this on me! Open your eyes and pay attention!"
Remy's eyes flashed open and Scott cringed, seeing the unshed tears in them. "What the hell did you think you were doing, following me in and taking away my depression? Correct me if I'm wrong, but you have no idea how to handle these emotions, do you?"
"De professor asked for my help..." Remy whispered, dazedly. He should have known that Scott wouldn't want him to screw around with his feelings. "'m sorry," he apologized.
Scott shook his head. "Sir, I can't believe you did that." Searching Charles' eyes, he realized how worried the professor must have been to ask Remy to help.
"I didn't have a choice," Charles said defensively. "You wouldn't let me in and Remy's an empath. Who knows how long you would have stayed in that state if it hadn't been for Remy's interference."
Scott understood Charles' motives, but didn't approve of his methods. "And now what? How do we help Remy?"
"Don' worry 'bout me," Remy mumbled, barely audible. "Concentrate on healin'." I don' deserve deir attention... made too many mistakes in my life.
Scott's jaw grew firm. "Of course we worry about you! We'll find a way to help you. The professor mentioned lowering your shields so the depression has a way out. Why won't you do that?"
"Why should I? It's betta dis way, trust me." Remy closed his eyes again and tried to pull the blanket over his face, trying to hide from their inquisitive eyes.
Charles frowned. "Reasoning with Remy won't get us anywhere. He's no longer thinking rationally." But the problem was that he couldn't force Remy to let go of the dark guilt. Remy's defenses were too strong and kept him out.
Scott slumped back in the chair. "Now what?"
Charles shook his head. I really don't know.
"Scott... you need to lie down and rest." Hank helped Scott back to his feet and guided him back to the exam table, where his patient lay down. "You shouldn't be on your feet yet."
Scott obeyed; fighting Hank was useless. But he didn't plan on falling asleep again. Judging from the look in Remy's eyes, the Cajun was desperate and there was no way of knowing what Remy's next move might be. What if the Cajun was becoming suicidal? "Someone should stay close to Remy at all times," he suggested.
Charles agreed. "Henry, keep a close eye on Remy."
Hank nodded his head. Remy was still hooked up to a monitor that was recording his vital signs; Remy would set off an alarm if he tried to remove the electrodes. Charles started for the doorway and Hank raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
Charles sensed Hank's curiosity and reacted to it. I need to think about this. But that was only a half-truth. He couldn't believe himself that he was actually considering contacting Sinister to help him deal with Remy's depression. Sinister helped Remy before... Contacting Sinister and enlisting the scientist's help could be dangerous, but he didn't have an alternative. Remy's mind was fragile right now and the young man could snap at any moment.
Scott stared at Remy's back once more; wishing the Cajun would turn around so he could read Remy's facial expressions. This is bad. Not only did he absorb my guilt, now he has managed to isolate himself, much like I did. I can't allow this to happen. Jean, I could really use your advice. What do I do now? How can I help him? But only silence answered him now that Jean's presence was gone. He was on his own... and being alone frightened him.
///
Remy's empathy told him that this was the moment he had been waiting for. Hank had fallen asleep behind his computer and Scott was dozing as well. With a shaky hand he removed the electrodes from his forehead and reached to shut off the alarm that was about to wake them. Now that the immediate danger was gone, he pushed himself into a sitting position and managed to put his feet on the floor. His first steps were unsure, but when he didn't fall, he sped up.
It took him a few minutes to cover the distance to the door. After leaving the lab, he turned right and walked down the corridor, occasionally using the wall to support himself. I've got to leave dis place...
Remy's thieving skills allowed him to reach the front door unnoticed and he shivered as the cold air found a way beneath his shirt. He should have taken a coat with him, but wait, why? He wasn't going to fight any more. He should have given in years ago and now he had better get things right. This time he was going to do it right and die.
Adrenaline was now rushing through his veins and it enabled him to duck the security cameras and to head for the gate. Once outside he would try to hitch a hike.
After slipping past the mansion security system he found himself on the main road. Several cars were passing by. Maybe one of them would stop and take him away from Westchester?
Sweat appeared on his brow and his heart was beating wildly in his chest. Hank would lecture him if McCoy ever got him into the lab again, but he didn't plan on ever going back to the mansion. He wasn't worthy of being an X-Man. It was time to move on.
He raised his thumb, hoping one of the cars would stop, but the drivers seemingly ignored him. After several minutes, Remy leaned against the trunk of a tree, realizing he had been deluding himself. He looked sick and no one wanted a sick passenger in his or her car.
Suddenly, he dropped to his knees as a sharp pain slashed through his head. His alarms were trying to warn him of the approaching danger, but the beginnings of a fever was making it hard for him to concentrate on the presence his empathy was picking up. Escaping the lab had exhausted him and he slid down the trunk, lacking the power to stay on his feet any longer.
Mon Dieu... not 'gain... de violence, de hate... I know him, not Creed! Not 'gain! Can' deal wit' him now, can' fight him off... His eyes were drooping shut, but he managed one look at the approaching predator. It was Creed all right. Remy shivered, seeing the mad gleam in the man's eyes. Leave me 'lone!
Creed almost flinched as Remy's voice unexpectedly penetrated his mind. "Not this time, Cajun. Ya won't scare me off this time... Stay outta my mind, ya hear me, LeBeau?" Creed came to a stop in front of Remy and grinned, seeing Remy squirm against the tree. The Cajun was trying to crawl away from him, but the tree blocked his escape route.
"No tricks, or yer dead, Cajun." Creed brought up his claws in front of Remy's face and allowed one sharp nail to draw blood when caressing the Cajun's face. Perfect timin', he complimented himself. He's completely helpless.
The adrenaline was wearing off and Remy shuddered as Creed drew blood. Mon Dieu, what had he gotten himself into now? He lacked the strength to put up a fight, but he refused to surrender to Creed. "Kill me, Creed. End it. You know you wanna kill me..." Maybe Creed would end his misery. Maybe if he provoked the man?
But Creed didn't give him a chance to try another game plan. Suddenly Creed's fist connected with his chin, knocking him out. Just before he lost consciousness, he thought, Mon Dieu, please let him kill me... Then darkness enveloped him.
Creed slung his prize over his shoulder and walked away from the road. He had built a shelter close by and he planned on taking Remy there. Then, after he had shown the Cajun who was in charge, he would use the telepath to help him control his animalistic urges. Remy would serve him in that capacity until he died...
///
Hank slowly opened his eyes, yawned and stretched his body. It had never been his intention to fall asleep, but the last hours events had worn him down as well. He rose from his chair, intent on checking on his patients, but froze. Remy's bed was empty! Damn!
Hank quickly accessed the com system and contacted the professor. "Sir, we've got a problem. Remy's managed to sneak out of the lab."
Charles, who had been up most of the night trying to contact Sinister, sat upright in his bed. "I'm on my way, Henry." He was already slipping into his hoverchair.
"Do you want me to alert the rest of the team?"
"Henry, call Warren and Bobby to the lab." Charles briefly considered including Logan as well. There was a chance that Creed was still roaming the grounds. "And contact Logan as well. I'll join you in the lab in ten."
"I'm already on it, sir." Hank terminated the connection to Charles' room and alerted Warren, Bobby and Logan, telling them to hurry and to come to the lab ASAP. In the meantime, Scott had begun to stir and was waking up. Hank quickly joined his patient and helped Scott sit upright.
"Hank, what's going on?" Scott had only heard Charles' last words, but his instincts were telling him something was wrong. Looking to his right, he expected to see Remy, but the exam table was empty. "Where's Gambit?"
Hank was about to answer Scott when Bobby and Logan entered the lab.
"Blue, what's the emergency?" Logan sniffled the air, trying to pick up on alien scents, but found none.
"Remy's gone," Hank said, helping Scott to his feet.
"And that's bad 'cause...?" Logan wished he knew what was going on. However, it was good to see Scott moving about again. Losing Jean had ripped his heart in two as well, but he hadn't shared a telepathic connection with her and he couldn't imagine how hard losing Jean was on Scott.
"Because Remy's not acting rationally." Charles joined them and made eye contact with Logan. "In order to pull Scott back Remy absorbed his feelings of guilt as well as his pain. Remy's severely depressed, probably even suicidal and we've got to find him."
Warren, who was flying toward them, landed and looked Charles in the eyes. "You want us to find him?"
"Yes, and be careful. Remy might try to harm himself. Don't give him a reason to panic." The change in Warren surprised Charles. The dislike Warren had displayed when it came to Remy seemed gone. Was that just because Remy had brought Scott back?
"Anything else we need to know, sir?" Bobby asked, seeing the thoughtful look in Charles' eyes.
"Yes," Charles started, then focused on Logan, "Creed might be close. He attacked Remy and I two nights ago. You'd better be careful."
"Creed? The bastard's here?" Logan bared his teeth. "If he's still close, I'll find the stinkin' bastard." Eager to leave, he headed for the doorway. "Are ya comin'?" He didn't wait for the others to join him. Creed was out there and it was time to make sure the bastard never hurt anyone he cared about again. Fighting Creed would also offer him a perfect outlet for his rage and pain. Killing Creed wouldn't bring Jean back, but at least his rage would serve a real purpose.
///
Jerking back to consciousness, Remy's eyes flashed open. Darkness surrounded him, but luckily his eyes provided him with perfect vision. Creed had obviously carried him off to some sort of cave. His hands were tied behind his back and Creed had tied his feet as well, leaving him no mobility at all. Fortunately, Creed had forgotten to blindfold him.
Maybe he could use his charging power to blow up the rope and free himself, but when he concentrated on building the kinetic charge, nothing happened. Terrified, he identified the weight around his neck. Merde, Creed had collared him!
His panic began to build, realizing he was completely defenseless. Mon Dieu, I'm not 'fraid to die, mais why couldn' he end it quickly? Does he wanna play games 'fore killin' me? What are his plans? It made sense that Creed wanted to prolong his suffering to get even with him. After all, this time Sinister wasn't around to fight him off.
What do I do now? I can' contact anyone, can' move... and no one's lookin' for me anyway. Who am I tryin' to fool? It ain' like de X-Men will come for me. Dey didn' come back for me in Antarctica and dey won' come for me now. I'm on my own...
The cold permeated his clothes and he shivered, sitting on the damp soil. When would Creed be back? The prospect of being at Creed's mercy made him nauseous. Creed undoubtedly knew many ways to make him suffer before ending his life. Oui, I wanna die, mais not dis way!
///
It didn't take Logan long to pick up Creed's scent. His claws popped from his knuckles and his anger kept building. If he kept this up, he would go feral eventually, but he didn't care; he needed to get the anger out of his system. "He's close," he warned his teammates. Scott was scouting ahead and Hank was sneaking through the bushes to his right. Bobby covered the left flank and Warren was keeping an eye on them from the sky.
Warren whispered into his microphone, "Logan, someone's headed your way."
Logan nodded his head, acknowledging the message. "Creed's mine," he mumbled into the mic. "Ya guys concentrate on findin' the Cajun." He removed the headset; it would only hamper him during battle. He sneaked closer, smelling Creed. Logan quickly turned around when Creed appeared behind him. "Yer gonna die, Creed."
"Promises..." Creed hissed and attacked. They had ruined his plans and had forced him to leave Remy behind in his shelter. Now he had to take them out first before he could 'train' the Cajun.
///
"Hank? Anything?" Warren coordinated their attack, having the best overall view.
"What happened to Logan?" They needed Logan's senses to lead them to Remy.
"Creed and Logan are fighting." Warren forced himself to concentrate on finding Gambit. Logan could handle Creed and wouldn't want them to interfere.
"And now what? How are we gonna find Remy?" Bobby changed into ice form and created an ice slide.
"Professor?" Scott hoped Charles was picking up on Remy's thoughts.
"Remy's thoughts are distorted... it's like his powers are gone... he's probably wearing a collar. I'm receiving the image of a cave... he's tied, hand and foot. Look for a cave." Charles wished he had an exact location, but Remy's thoughts were barely traceable.
Warren, Hank and Bobby, who had heard the professor as well, scanned for a cave.
"I've got something," Warren announced excitedly. "Scott, it's to your right. Bushes cover the entrance, but it definitely looks like a cave."
"I'm on it," Scott replied and headed for the cave. Now that he was close, he saw the entrance as well and he pulled away the branches that hid the cave from view. "Remy? Are you in here?"
Remy's head jerked up. Was he only imagining things or had he really heard Scott's voice? But what would Scott be doing here? "Cyke?"
Scott immediately identified Remy's voice and contacted his teammates. "I've found him," he whispered into the microphone. He distinctly heard Charles' relieved sigh.
"Then bring him home, Scott." A deep sigh escaped Charles' lips.
Scott moved deeper into the cave and smiled as Remy's eyes lit up in the darkness. "It's okay, Remy, we've found you."
Remy stared at Scott in disbelief. Why is he here? Did he really come for me? Why? I deserve to die for what I did to de Morlocks. But Scott was moving closer and now sat on his heels in front of him.
"Remy, did Creed hurt you?"
"I'm wearin' a collar," Remy whispered, surprised at how raw his voice sounded. "Tied me up as well... Cyke, what are you doin' here?"
The words caused Scott pain. "Did you really think we would desert you again?" The disbelief in Remy's eyes answered his question. "Yes, you did..."
Bobby entered the cave as well and joined them. "Hey, Remy, are you okay?"
Bobby? Bobby was here as well? Remy pinched his eyes half shut as the headache returned, tormenting him. Suddenly, his stomach rebelled and he doubled over.
Scott quickly reached out and steadied Remy as the younger man began to throw up. Smoothing back the long locks he waited for the bout of retching to end. "Bobby, freeze the collar and the ropes."
Bobby reached out and froze the rope and the collar, which shattered from the cold. "You're free again, Remy."
Tears appeared in his eyes and blurred his vision, but Remy still managed a 'Merci'. Lifting his eyes, he noticed Hank's arrival as well. "What are you doin' here?"
Scott cringed at hearing the disbelief in Remy's voice. "We're here to take you home, Remy."
"Home? Where's home?" Remy blinked his eyes, still feeling nauseous. "I..." He didn't get the chance to finish his sentence, passing out and collapsing against Scott.
"We'd better take him back to the lab," Scott decided, then noticed Logan was still missing. "Bobby, find Logan and help him. Warren, I need you to fly Remy back to the mansion; it's the fastest way. Hank, start for the mansion now." He figured that being jostled around in Hank's arms would only worsen Remy's condition. Remy would be far more comfortable in Warren's arms.
Hank nodded his head and hurried away, his long, agile limbs making it easy to move through the bushes and trees. He would probably reach the mansion before Warren did.
Warren felt oddly shy when Scott placed Remy in his arms. Surprised, he noticed just how much weight Remy must have lost for him to be able to carry the Cajun that easily. "Why don't you notify the professor that I'll arrive in five minutes?"
Scott nodded once. "Just hurry. I don't think Remy was supposed to be on his feet yet."
Warren left the cave, spread his wings and took to the sky.
Bobby created another ice slide and went in search of Logan. Scott stayed behind, needing a moment to deal with the expression that had shone from Remy's eyes. The young Cajun had really believed no one would come for him! "Damn it!"
///
Charles watched Remy sleep. Hank had hooked his patient back up to the monitors and was running several tests on him. The lab had buzzed with people after Remy had arrived. Scott, Warren, Bobby and Logan had been concerned and had wanted to know how Remy was doing. In the end, Charles had sent them away; fearing the turmoil would upset Remy.
"What do I do now?" Charles sighed. Remy had refused his help and he was at the end of his rope.
Tell McCoy to leave the lab.
What? Who? Charles' head jerked back at hearing the unexpected mind voice. Looking about he realized he was still alone, but then... who had addressed him?
Tell McCoy to leave... otherwise I can't help him.
Sinister! A few hours ago he had used Cerebro to contact Sinister, but had failed. Sinister hadn't reacted to the message. Why had the scientist changed his mind? "Henry? Why don't you get us something to eat?" Charles hated playing Hank like this, but Sinister was Remy's only chance. Maybe Sinister knew how to help the empath.
"Of course, sir," Hank said and rose from behind his computer. "Anything in particular that you want me to fetch?"
"Some sandwiches will do." Charles waited until Hank had left the lab and then focused his thoughts again. We're alone... He froze, surprised, when Sinister materialized in the center of the room. How had Sinister managed to get past the mansion's security system?
Sinister scanned his surroundings and headed for his son. "What did you do to him?" Cold rage sounded in his voice. He still didn't understand why Remy chose to stay with the X-Men who had only ever hurt him. Probing his son's mind, he was surprised to find the gaping darkness.
"Remy took away Scott's depression, but refuses to lower his shields to offer it a way out. He refuses my help... That's why I contacted you. You're his father and maybe you know of a way..." Charles' voice trailed off, seeing the anger in Sinister's eyes. How come he's experiencing emotions? Didn't Apocalypse take them away? How can Sinister be angry?
"You hurt my son." Sinister's red eyes glowed diabolically. "I should have stopped him when he told me he wanted to return to Westchester."
"It was Remy's idea to absorb Scott's depression. I didn't force him."
"He's an empath. You should have known he'd do something like that! And you call yourself a teacher? A mentor?" Sinister turned away from Charles and focused on Remy again. "Don't interrupt me."
Charles backed away from them, knowing he had failed Remy. Hopefully Sinister would be able to reach his son. He wanted to ask Sinister so many questions, but then kept in mind that the scientist had told him not to interrupt.
Sinister took in his son's haggard appearance and reached out telepathically, trying to determine the extent of the damage done to Remy. He found that Charles was right; all Remy had to do was to lower his shields and then the depression would have a way out. But Remy refused to listen to Xavier and he wouldn't follow his advice either; Remy only trusted one person unconditionally.
Charles sucked in his breath, seeing Sinister morph into Jean-Luc LeBeau. He recognized the Cajun from pictures Remy kept in his room. Sinister's morphing powers impressed him and the man's cunning almost frightened him. Sinister used all means necessary to achieve his goals.
"Remy? Mon fils? Wake up and listen to me." Again, he felt thankful that he had studied the Patriarch of the Thieves Guild, knowing the information would come in handy one day. Now he could effortlessly slip into Jean-Luc's hide.
"Poppa?" Remy slowly opened his eyes, recognizing the familiar voice. "Poppa? What are you doin' here?" He struggled to sit upright.
"You got yourself into trouble 'gain, petit. Why won' you listen to de professor?" Sinister played his role perfectly. Gently, he pushed back some stray locks and looked Remy in the eyes. "You have to lower your shields to let de bad feelings out, mon fils. I don' want you to suffer like dis."
"De professor told you 'bout Scott?" Remy managed a weak smile, thrilled to find his father at his bed.
"Oui, he did, petit. Mais now you have to listen to him. Lower your shields, Remy. Trust your poppa." Sinister clutched Remy's hands in his, hoping his son was still too weak and too confused to feel his mental probing. "Lower your shields and let go."
Fascinated, Charles watched Remy comply. The younger man lowered his shields and Remy panted softly as the dark feelings and thoughts fled his mind. His gaze traveled from Remy to Sinister and seeing the compassion in the scientist's eyes surprised him. Did Sinister really care about Remy?
"Did I do bien?" Remy asked in a tiny tone. His eyes were closing again, and he was slipping into a healing sleep now that the darkness had left his mind.
"You did great, petit. I'm proud of you." Sinister helped Remy lie down and pulled the blankets back up to his son's chin. "Now you can sleep, Remy. Everyt'in's bien."
"Merci, poppa... merci for bein' dere for me..." Remy smiled contently and closed his eyes, surrendering to sleep.
Sinister took a step away from Remy, trying to control his emotions. His emotions? Sinister paused, realizing his affection for his son was growing, but that was impossible! He didn't posses the ability to care, to feel! Bloody empathy! Morphing back, he met Charles' surprised eyes. "Take better care of him or I'll be back. Remy's precious to me and I won't allow you to hurt him again. Teach him what he needs to know, but don't you dare place him in danger ever again!"
A tesseract appeared behind Sinister and he walked toward it, not giving Xavier a chance to answer.
Charles massaged his temples, relieved that the tesseract was closing behind Sinister, swallowing the scientist. He had witnessed something extraordinary.
///
Sinister! Sinister coaxed Remy into lowering his shields. What the hell's going on?
He moved out of the shadows and fled the lab, still trying to make sense of the scene he had just witnessed.