Title: Shadows
Author: Morgana (morganalebeau@yahoo.com)
Website: http://www.oocities.org/morganalebeau/
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Shadows 7 - Healing
By Morgana
"Professor? How's Remy doing?" Curiosity and concern had gotten the better of him and Scott had sneaked back into Hank's lab. Charles' head jerked up; the professor must have been lost in thought not to detect his presence. Was Remy's condition that bad?
"Sir?" Scott tried not to act too obvious when he looked past Charles, trying to gauge Remy's condition. The Cajun was asleep and looked unharmed.
"Remy will make a full recovery," Charles said reassuringly. "Creed didn't have the time to inflict any damage. A few hours ago Remy finally lowered his shields so that his depression had a way out. He'll be on his feet again shortly."
"I'm glad to hear that..." Scott moved closer to the professor and together they walked over to Remy, who was blissfully unaware of their presence. His features were peaceful in sleep and the blankets kept him warm. Remy looked comfortable and content, which put most of Scott's worries to rest.
Charles recognized the worried expression on Scott's face and asked, "What's troubling you?"
"Except Jean's death?" Scott immediately regretted his bitter reply. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. It's just hard, you know? Living without her?"
"We never talked about this in private, Scott." Charles' gaze traveled from Remy to Scott. "How are you coping with losing her? Is there anything I can do to help?"
Scott's embittered laugh matched his prior bitter tone. "I doubt there's anyone who can help me deal with losing Jean to the Phoenix... I'll never love again. Jean was the other half of my soul and without her... I feel empty, sir."
Charles nodded emphatically. "It's only normal to feel like that, but Scott, life does go on. I know it sounds harsh... I have lost people I cared for and I know how hard it is to keep going, but you don't have a choice. Your friends want to see you heal..." Charles heard Scott's intake of breath and quickly finished. "And although you feel like you have nothing left to live for, things will change, will get better, but the pain, the loss, they will always stay with you."
Scott looked away, unable to meet Charles' eyes right now. "I can't stay at the mansion, sir."
Charles' raised an eyebrow. "Why not? They want to help and comfort you."
"I can't bear seeing the pity in their eyes," Scott revealed in an unguarded moment. "It's the way they look at me... I don't want them to pity me... I want them to treat me normally..." But everyone stopped talking the moment he entered a room and then shot him awkward glances. "I know they're trying to deal with Jean's death as well, but..."
Charles understood. "Maybe you should move to the boathouse until we get a grip on the situation? Everyone's trying to cope with Jean's death and maybe you need some privacy to mourn properly?"
"But Remy's already living at the boathouse and I don't want to impose..." Scott's expression became thoughtful, then worried. "He moved out there to escape the hostility some of the team members feel toward him. It wouldn't be fair if I dragged my pain and guilt into his mind again. Remy doesn't know how to deal with such fierce emotions, does he?"
Charles shook his head. "No, he doesn't, but Remy's learning."
"It just wouldn't be fair to drag him into this. He needs his privacy too." Scott frowned. "Maybe I should leave Westchester for a while."
"Non, please don'..." Remy's eyes flashed open and met Scott's. "Believe me, mon ami, shuttin' everyone out ain' de answer. De feelings need a way out." He had given himself away, revealing that he wasn't really asleep, just pretending, but that didn't matter. Assuring Scott that he was welcome did. "Dere's a spare bedroom at the boathouse... we can work somet'in' out."
Scott shook his head. "You were awake all this time and overheard our conversation?"
"Not all de time," Remy corrected Scott. "Mais I heard most of it, oui." Remy nervously licked his lips. "Cyke, you're welcome at de boathouse. You don' have to leave Westchester. If it makes you feel more comfortable I'll move back to de mansion so you can be 'lone at de boathouse."
Scott sensed the honesty in Remy's words and felt tempted to accept the offer. The truth was that he didn't want to be completely alone and Remy's eyes showed no pity, only compassion. "Okay, I'll move into the boathouse... and please stay, don't move back to the mansion."
"Bien, merci, Scott." Remy's eyes closed again as he dozed off. The little stunt he had pulled earlier had exhausted him. Running away from the mansion had turned out to be a disastrous plan and now he had to rest in order to regain his strength, but he already felt better now that the depression was gone.
"He's asleep again," Charles whispered and then glanced at Scott. "You made the right decision."
"You think so?" Scott still sounded unconvinced.
"Yes..." Charles carefully weighed his next words. "Loneliness can drive an empath insane. He needs your company as much as you need his."
That thought had crossed Scott's mind as well, but he had chosen to ignore it. But it was the truth. A telepath, and to an even larger extent an empath, needed human contact in order to stay grounded. Maybe if he fortified his defenses his feelings wouldn't cause Remy pain. If he noticed that Remy was suffering because of him, he would leave anyway.
"I'm going to pack my things, sir. When do you think Remy will be able to leave?" He planned on taking Remy back to the boathouse with him when he left.
"A few hours," Hank said. He had overheard their last words. "But he'll need to take things slowly for the next few days."
Scott nodded his head. He would make sure they both got some much-needed rest.
///
Remy sat upright on the exam table. His feet dangled several inches above the floor and he was watching Hank, who had just finished evaluating his last test. "So mon ami, am I 'kay to go?" He hated being confined to the lab; it brought back memories of Sinister operating on him.
Hank gave Remy a long, hard look. "Physically, you are fine, but mentally you're still recovering from the unexpected use of your empathic abilities. I suggest you learn how to control your powers first, before plunging into the deep again. Drawing in Scott's depression could have had serious consequences, even worse than what you experienced this time."
Remy ventured a weak smile. "You care, Henri... don' try to deny it." That realization made him feel warm inside. "Didn' know you cared..." After Antarctica, he had begun doubting they had ever cared about him.
"Of course I care," Hank said, indignant. Reaching behind him, he presented a warm sweater to Remy. "Here, you might need this. It's growing cold outside and Scott will arrive to pick you up in ten minutes."
Remy gracefully accepted the sweater and slipped into it. A few things still bothered him. One was Jean-Luc's unexpected visit and his mysterious disappearance. Why hadn't Jean-Luc stayed a little longer so that they could talk? Maybe he should call Jean-Luc later and ask him that very question. For now, he forced himself to focus on more urgent matters. "I wanna help Scott..." he mused aloud, uncertain what he really wanted to say. "What do I do?"
Hank sighed. "I do not know, my Acadian friend. Pushing Scott into talking about his feelings might cause him to keep everything bottled up inside." Hank then grinned. "I'm sure your empathy will tell you how best to proceed."
Remy lowered his eyes. Discussing his empathy made him uncomfortable. "Don' plan on usin' it on Scott ever 'gain."
Hank frowned. "And why's that?"
"Don' wanna invade his privacy, mon ami. He didn' want me in his mind dat first time and I ain' makin' de same mistake twice."
Hank carefully chose his next words. "Scott will need your support and your willing ear. Your empathy can help you determine his needs and it can help him heal."
"Not crossin' dat line ever 'gain, Henri. Scott didn' want me in his mind." Remy shook his head and his jaw set firmly. "Not reachin' out 'gain." He had learned his lesson.
"I think you're making a mistake, Remy," Hank said, sincerely. But you have to figure that out for yourself.
"Hey, Remy, are you ready to go?" Scott entered the lab, carrying a duffel bag. He was putting up a brave front, determined not to show how lost he really felt. He missed Jean's presence in his mind and he felt cold and empty. The loneliness was tearing him apart.
"Oui, je suis ready," Remy mumbled. He jumped off the exam table and sucked in his breath when vertigo unexpectedly overwhelmed him. After taking a few deep breaths, he felt better and the room stopped spinning around him. "Let's go."
Hank watched them leave, hoping they figured out how badly they needed each other. And how greatly they can benefit from reaching out to one another.
///
Scott drove the jeep to the boathouse, then put it into park and got out. Remy followed, moving slowly. He's probably still recovering. The professor said Remy needs rest. But he felt listless himself and lacked the energy to address the issue. As Remy headed for the master bedroom, Scott turned left and entered the smaller bedroom opposite Remy's room.
I'm glad Jean and I never stayed in this room. I couldn't stand being in here, remembering we slept in this room, in this bed. It's better this way. He flung his duffel bag onto the bed and then sat down. Letting himself fall backward, he sighed and stared at the ceiling. Jean, why? Why did the Phoenix take you away from me?
That question would stay unanswered forever, and Scott tried to accept that fact, but it was hard not knowing the reason why the Phoenix had finally consumed Jean. I want her back... want to feel her in my mind... I'm so lonely...
A sharp knock on the door startled him and Scott quickly sat upright. "Yes?"
"I'm gonna make dinner... wanna help?" Remy held his breath. No matter how strong Scott's shields were he was still receiving the other man's pain and he couldn't bear the thought of Scott hurting. "You can even pick de dish..."
Scott stared at his reflection in the mirror that hung on the wall. He looked too pale and even the visor couldn't hide his pained expression. Dinner... he wasn't hungry at all. "I think I'll pass, Remy, but thanks anyway."
Remy recognized the tactic; he had used it himself to keep people at a distance. That was why he knew how to counteract it. "Bien, den I won' cook. Ain' gonna cook jus' for myself and eat 'lone."
Scott immediately felt guilty. Remy had clearly lost weight these last few weeks and skipping dinner was a bad idea. "Okay, I'll help."
Remy's smile was forced, knowing only too well that he had manipulated Scott. "Is pasta bien?" He wasn't a particularly good cook, but he knew how to prepare pasta Alfredo.
"That's just fine," Scott said, resigned, and rose to his feet. Remy's retreating footfalls told him that the Cajun was already on his way to the kitchen and he waited another minute before opening the door. He needed that moment to compose himself, reminding himself that Remy was an empath. He probably felt my loneliness and this is just an attempt to lure me out of the room. Resigned, Scott descended the stairs and joined Remy in the kitchen. The Cajun was already boiling some water and chopping the vegetables. "What can I do?"
"Set de table?" Remy kept his eyes locked on the tomatoes. Meeting Scott's gaze now meant giving away his feelings. Scott's pain was strong and depressing him as well. He had to distract Scott, keep him busy. Maybe that would work.
Scott was setting the table, absentmindedly placing glasses, plates and utensils on the table. When had been the last time Jean and he had spent some time here? About a year ago. It felt awkward, being back here without her. Fortunately Remy was here to keep him from going insane. Hank had been right. They did need each other's company. "Is this okay?"
Remy looked up from stirring the sauce and nodded his head. "C'est bien, Cyke. Dinner will be ready in five."
Scott sat down at the table and watched Remy, wondering if his emotions were causing the Cajun pain. He almost asked, but kept quiet instead, as he wasn't sure he wanted to learn the answer. If Remy's answer was positive, he would have to leave the boathouse to ensure the Cajun's emotional balance, but the problem was that he didn't want to leave. Against all odds, he felt comfortable with having Remy close.
Remy felt uncomfortable as the silence continued. He desperately tried to think of something to say but came up empty. In the end, he placed the pasta on the table and after serving Scott and himself, he picked at the food.
Scott wasn't hungry at all, but managed a few bites out of courtesy; after all, Remy had prepared this meal for him. "Tastes great, Remy."
"Merci." Remy forced himself to take a bite and swallowed the pasta. "I've got some wine as well. Want some?"
Scott shook his head. "No, thanks." Although he had never resorted to drinking before, he didn't want to risk embracing the oblivion alcohol provided.
Remy grew silent again and pushed the practically full plate away. He tightened his shields, wishing he had stronger defenses. For some reason Scott's emotions were still leaking into his mind. The silence became oppressive and Remy began to clean up the dishes. Scott was still staring into his glass of water.
Eventually, the tension became too much and Remy barely kept from fleeing the room. "Sorry, Cyke, mais I'm kinda tired. Gonna catch some shuteye. Will wake you in de mornin' for breakfast, 'kay?"
Startled from his musings, Scott quickly nodded his head. "Sounds just fine. I'm tired too."
Both men started for the doorway. Scott climbed the stairs first and quickly closed the door behind him, releasing a tormented sigh. He just couldn't pretend everything was fine when he felt dead inside.
After throwing his duffel bag on the floor, he stretched out on the bed. He grew cold and slipped beneath the covers, not bothering to undress. Hopefully sleep would come quickly.
///
Remy slipped into a shirt and sweat pants and cursed his trembling fingers. Really have to work on my shields... Won' last long dis way.
Remy lay down and pulled the comforter up to his chin. Shivers ran down his spine and he decided to leave a light on. Sleeping in the dark didn't appeal to him tonight. The dark hid shadows from his past, which still held the power to terrify him.
Scott's pain battered against his shields and they finally gave in, allowing the pain and guilt inside. "Non," he whispered brokenly. "Need stronger shields... can' do dis!" He fought his panic, and bit his bottom lip until it bled. As suddenly as it had begun, the panic attack stopped. "Mon Dieu, he's fallen 'sleep." Dreams weren't as strong as thoughts and his shields were solid enough to keep them outside. Won' be able to sleep tonight... not while feelin' like dis.
After tossing and turning for one hour, he gave up and settled for reading a book. He wouldn't find any sleep tonight.
///
"I give up," Remy mumbled softly. Scott's dreams were harder to lock out than he had thought. Dark, cold images continued to batter against his shields, making him nauseous. He had to stop the hurting, had to do something to escape the pain. After pushing back the covers, he left his bed and walked over to the doorway.
Wavering, he crossed the corridor and opened the door to Scott's room. As if by magic, his eyes were drawn to the sleeping man. Scott was moving about in bed, almost thrashing as the nightmares continued to torment him. The roar of the Phoenix echoed in Scott's mind and Remy leaned against the wall for support as the roar swept through his mind as well.
"Jean? Jean, where are you? Why can't I find you?" Scott was mumbling in his sleep, arms moving without direction. "Need you..."
Remy swallowed hard. Now that Scott was asleep, the trauma was surfacing again. Mon Dieu, I had dreams like dem after Belle died... and den 'gain after Benjamin and Dave died... He knew exactly what Scott was going through.
After making his way to Scott's bed, he sat down, watching the other man squirm.
"Please? I'm so alone... need you."
For one moment Remy pretended Scott was reaching for him and not Jean. The next moment he hated himself for thinking it. Have to suppress my feelings for him. Can' feel dis way right now... it's wrong!
He was startled when Scott unexpectedly reached for him. Scott's right hand clawed the fabric of his sweat pants and Remy involuntarily held his breath. Scott moved in the bed, rolling toward him and before he realized what was happening, Scott's head was resting in his lap. Scott's right hand had a tight grip on his leg and his left curled itself around his waist. Shocked, he realized that he was trapped. He couldn't free himself without waking Scott in the process.
Scott would undoubtedly feel embarrassed for clinging to him like this so Remy decided not to wake the other man. Now what? Remy rested his back against the headboard and tried to get as comfortable as possible. It looked like he was stuck here for quite some time.
Unintended, his fingers tangled in Scott's hair and he fingered a lock. He had never allowed himself to fantasize about having Scott this close, but things had changed. Jean was dead and Scott needed his comfort. Took me a long time to accept Jean-Luc's touch, mais when I did I began to heal... Touch was important, but Scott had never indicated he wanted to be touched in whatever way so he had kept his distance... until now.
Scott snuggled up to him and Remy held his breath. Was Scott under the impression that Jean was close or was Scott content with being close to him? Why was Scott reacting like this? He probably t'inks Jean's close... alt'ough I can' understand how he could confuse me wit' her.
Scott was now peacefully asleep. The nightmares had ended and he was resting comfortably. There was no way he could shatter Scott's rest by leaving the bed. Scott needed to sleep and so did he. He should try to sleep as well. Maybe he would manage to fall asleep now that Scott was at peace.
He shifted slightly, finding a more comfortable position, then pulled the comforter close. It now covered Scott up to his chin and Remy felt warm as well; Scott's body heat was keeping him warm. Closing his eyes, he tried hard not to think about Scott's possible reactions when the other man woke up in the morning.///
The first thing Scott became aware of when he woke up was how warm and comfortable he felt. Last night bad dreams had tormented him, but now even the memory seemed vague and non-threatening. What had changed?
Slowly, Scott opened his eyes. He immediately recognized his surroundings; he was at the boathouse, staying with Remy.
Huh? What? The rhythmic movement beneath him puzzled him. When he looked down, he realized he was resting against something warm, no make that someone warm. Turning his head, he looked up and startled, realizing he was lying very close to Remy. The Cajun was sitting upright in bed and somehow he had managed to snuggle up to the other man during the night. His head rested in Remy's lap and his hands were curled around the Cajun's waist and knee, tightly holding on. Remy never had a chance to free himself.
Carefully, he tried to untangle himself, but Remy moaned softly, protesting the movement and he froze. Now what? Moving cautiously, he managed to pull his hand away from beneath Remy's knee. But his other arm was still wrapped around Remy's waist. I pulled him close during the night... but what's he doing here in the first place? Why is he sleeping in my bed? I'm sure I went to bed alone.
Sometime during the night the nightmares had ended; was that because Remy had come to his room to comfort him? Had he accepted that comfort in his sleep? Shit, this is embarrassing. He probably sensed my nightmares and came here to calm me down. From the way I was clinging to him, I grabbed hold of him and never let go again.
Embarrassed, Scott closed his eyes again. How would Remy react when the Cajun woke up? Would Remy think less of him because he had succumbed to the nightmares? This is the Phoenix' fault. Why did she have to take Jean away from me? Jean would know how to react in a situation like this.
Scott sucked in his breath when Remy stirred. The young Cajun was trying to find a more comfortable position. Sneaking a glance at him, Scott found that the red on black eyes were opening.
///
Remy struggled for breath when Scott's discomfort hit him. Mon Dieu, I fell 'sleep... it's mornin' and Scott's 'wake... I should apologize and give him back his privacy. Come on, say somet'in', Remy! He was upset himself; having Scott this close was something he had always wanted to happen, but it felt so wrong. Scott was only here because he was mourning Jean's death.
His mental powers told him that Scott was awake and that he was being watched from behind the ruby glasses. Remy cleared his throat and decided to apologize right here and now. "Sorry, Cyke, didn' wanna fall 'sleep, mais I was tired too." He had better leave now.
"Wait," Scott said, placing his hand on Remy's arm to prevent the other man from leaving. "What happened last night?"
Remy blinked his eyes in surprise. He hadn't expected Scott to want to discuss this. "You had nightmares and I tried to help."
"The nightmares stopped," Scott recalled. "I'm sorry for ending up sprawled all over you." Suddenly he realized that he was still clutching Remy's waist and he quickly let go, sitting up in bed.
Remy blushed. "C'est bien. I needed poppa close too after..." He stopped just in time, determined never to reveal his short stay on the streets. Scott would lose the little respect he had for him.
Scott raised a puzzled eyebrow, realizing just how little he knew about Remy. "You sound like you know what I'm going through."
"I do... kinda," Remy added hesitantly. "My wife died in my arms years ago."
Scott sat cross-legged and continued to stare at Remy. "Your wife?" He hadn't known Remy had been married!
"Belle died in my arms. De Brood killed her."
"Belle?" Scott cocked his head. "Why didn't you ever tell us? When did this happen?"
Remy really didn't feel up to answering Scott's questions, but he gave in, sensing the other man's genuine interest. "Happened five years ago... I never told anyone 'cause no one ever asked."
Scott swallowed hard. My God, had they shown so little interest in the Cajun? "I'm sorry she died."
Remy shrugged his shoulders. "She's 'live 'gain."
Scott was agape, revealing his surprise. "What?"
Remy didn't know how much he could reveal to Scott about the Guilds' ways. "Magic potion," he whispered eventually.
"Then why aren't you with her?" Growing cold, Scott wrapped the comforter around himself.
"Can' go back home. I'm banished. N'awlins is off limits to me..." Thoughtfully, he added, "The handfastin' was only for five years and dey're passed now. Belle's free 'gain..."
"I can't believe you never told us," Scott whispered, guiltily. "I can't believe we never asked."
Silence descended on the room and both men were busy sorting out their own thoughts when professor's Xavier's mind voice suddenly swept through their minds. Scott? I need you to come to the mansion. There's something I need to show you.
Sir, I don't want to return to the mansion just yet. Scott exchanged a glance with Remy, whose facial expression revealed his surprise at hearing Charles' mind voice unexpectedly. He had been a little startled himself.
Scott, trust me. This is important. I promise you that you won't run into the others, but you really have to come to the mansion right now.
Scott nodded once. I'm on my way, sir. He had never before defied one of Charles' orders and he reacted instinctively, trusting Charles to act in his best interest.
We need to use Cerebro... Charles mused.
I'll be with you in ten; Scott promised and then got to his feet. Looking over his shoulder, he noticed the lost expression on Remy's face. The Cajun had just revealed part of his past to him and now he was running out on him. "We'll talk later, okay?"
"Sure," Remy said, trying to appear unfazed. "You go see de professor and mebbe we can have brunch after you get back?"
"Sounds like a plan." Scott entered the bathroom and splashed some water in his face. Behind him, he heard Remy's retreating footsteps as the Cajun returned to his own room. I wonder why he opened up to me...
Scott changed into some clean clothes and left his room, wondering why the professor needed to talk to him so urgently.
///
Charles wrung his hands, feeling nervous now that Scott could arrive any moment. When he had contacted Scott telepathically he had acted instinctively, without thinking it over thoroughly. Now he wondered if he should have handled the situation differently.
"Sir?" Scott entered the room and sought out Charles' eyes, which were draped.
"Come with me..." Charles guided Scott toward Cerebro and gestured him closer. "Two nights ago I used Cerebro and... suddenly a program came online. I think you should look at it. I'll leave you alone now."
Scott wanted to ask Charles what was going on, but the older man had already left the room. "What the hell's going on?"
Suddenly Cerebro projected a hologram on the wall and Scott took a step back, startled at seeing Jean in front of him. "What? Jean?"
"Scott, sweetie... I'm so sorry. I hoped you'd never see this message." Jean's shape flickered and Cerebro stabilized the image. "I'm sorry to leave you behind. I don't know how I died, but I'm sorry I left you..."
Tears dripped from beneath the ruby glasses and Scott reached out, trying to touch the hologram, but his hand passed right through it. "Not real," he reminded himself.
"It feels strange, recording this message, knowing you will see it once I'm dead, but I need to tell you something."
Scott sobbed, hearing Jean's voice again. He had never thought he would ever hear it again! "Why, Jean, why?" Watching the hologram caused him pain. Jean was standing in front of him and yet he couldn't touch her. She wasn't real; she was only a hologram. He constantly had to remind himself of that.
"Scott, I love you, sweetie... I'll always love you. I know you're hurting badly because I'm gone. The telepathic link was broken when I died and I hope you are unharmed. I never wanted to hurt you, but the link... it's so strong." Jean paused. "I recorded this message the day after Remy returned. I felt the need to do this because his disappearance and his return reminded me of how fragile life can be. I want to tell you how much I love you. I can't imagine that I would ever leave you willingly, so someone or something took me away from you."
Scott felt paralyzed. Had Jean known something bad was going to happen to her? Or was this just coincidence?
"I know you're hurting, sweetie, asking yourself why I left you, but Scott, you have to move on. You have friends and you owe it to me as well as to them to be the best you can. The team needs you." Jean obviously hesitated, licked her lips, but then carried on. "And it's okay to love again, Scott. I don't want you to mourn my death for the rest of your life. You deserve to find love again. Don't deny yourself that because you feel you have to stay faithful to me. Scott, I'm sure... I know for a fact, that someone out there loves you, will grow to love you as much as I do... did. Damn, this is harder than I thought." Jean's voice cracked.
Scott let his tears freely flow. "I'll never love again as long as I'll live," he vowed passionately.
"I know you love me, Scott, but I'm dead and you're alive. Don't isolate yourself. Let the others comfort you. I know you, Scott. You'll push them away and try to deal with my death on your own. It won't work!" Jean's watering eyes stared into a void. "I can't see you right now, but you can see me. Listen to me, Scott, don't bury yourself in self-pity. I won't let you!"
Scott finally managed a weak smile.
"I'd better end this message now or I'll burst out in tears... Scott, I love you, sweetie... You made me happy and I know there's someone out there who can make you happy in return. Don't hang onto the past, to my death. Move on. Please, Scott... promise me you'll move on."
"I can't," Scott whispered brokenly. Then the image flickered and faded. The hologram was gone and Scott felt extremely distressed. "Jean, how can you think I could ever love someone else? I only love you! No one else, only you!" Scott dropped to his knees and wildly shook his head. "I'll never love again!"
///
Charles, who had been waiting outside, entered the room and reached for Scott. "Scott?" He managed to pull Scott to his feet, and as he stared into the tear filled eyes, he saw his own pain reflected there. "I loved her as well, but she's gone, Scott. Jean's right. You have to move on."
"How? How can I move on when I've lost the only person I ever loved?" Scott wiped away his tears. "How can she ask me to love again? No one can take her place."
"She knows that no one can take her place, that isn't what she was trying to say. She wants you to know that it's okay if you ever fall in love again. She wants you to be happy and now that she's gone she hopes someone else will love you the way she did."
"No one can love me the way she did," Scott said, stubbornly. Suddenly, he felt tired and drained. He started for the doorway, intent on returning to the boathouse and lying down to lose himself in sleep and oblivion.
"Scott?" Scott's distress was obvious and Charles wondered if he shouldn't stay close instead.
"I'm going back to the boathouse," Scott announced. "I need to work through this."
Charles nodded his head. Remy was at the boathouse and the Cajun would keep a close eye on Scott. Watching Scott leave, he hoped the younger man would one day truly understand what Jean had been trying to tell him.
Chapter Eight - Alone Again
"Not again!" Scott sighed, waking up from another deep and dreamless sleep. Next to him was Remy, the Cajun's back resting against the headboard. This is deja vu. I woke up like this yesterday as well. I had nightmares again last night and this time about the hologram Cerebro projected. Remy must have come inside to comfort me.
His head rested in Remy's lap once more and this time he had wrapped both arms around the other man's waist, trapping Remy. I wonder how long this will continue? How much longer will Remy comfort me? He'll grow tired of it in the end. I should leave Westchester; maybe travel, but I shouldn't stay here. My presence is causing him pain. He might not admit it, but the fact that he's here is proof enough.
Scott looked up and found that Remy was still sound asleep. Dark circles disfigured his eyes and Scott felt guilty, knowing he was the reason why Remy wasn't getting enough sleep.
Slowly, he tried to pull back, but the movement caused Remy to stir. The red on black eyes flashed open and Remy quickly scanned his surroundings, searching for any possible threat. "I did it again, didn't I?" Scott released Remy's waist and sat upright, distancing himself again.
Remy quickly composed himself. When he had woken up, he had been disorientated, but then he had remembered where he was; the boathouse. "De nightmares returned," he offered apologetically. "Dey kept me from fallin' 'sleep."
"Apparently they go away when you're close," Scott summarized, feeling surprised. Why's that? Focusing inward, he tried to identify the feelings he was experiencing now. I don't feel alone. I feel Remy at the edges of my mind. Remy's presence made the void in his mind more bearable. Oh, Jean...
Remy blinked his eyes and stretched carefully. His lower back was hurting after being forced to sleep in this uncomfortable position. Carefully, he avoided to look at Scott and disentangled himself from the comforter. After rising to his feet, he started for the door. "Am gonna fix breakfast."
Scott nodded once. "I'll take a quick shower and then join you." Remy closed the door behind him and Scott released a strangled sigh. "Damn, I did it again! Why can't I control my feelings? I don't want to rob him of his sleep." When he had agreed to move into the boathouse he hadn't fully understood just how sensitive the empath was. His feelings were constantly battering against Remy's shields... "Maybe the professor can help me control them."
Although he had slept well last night, Thanks to Remy's presence, he still felt tired and emotionally drained. He forced himself to leave the bed and to head for the bathroom. If it had been up to him, he wouldn't have left his bed all day long, hiding there. But Remy wouldn't allow it, would kick his butt if necessary and Scott managed a weak smile. In that one aspect he surely reminds me of Jean. She didn't take any crap either.
As Scott stripped and turned on the shower, a sense of peace descended on him. Jean would have been proud of the way Remy was handling everything.
///
When Scott returned to the boathouse later that day, he found it empty. He had spent the last few hours in Charles' company. The professor had helped him strengthen his shields, but he had blocked every attempt the older man had made to discuss his feelings. He wasn't ready yet to talk to Charles about Jean. The pain was still private, his own. No one else was entitled to share it with him.
The professor had escorted him back to the front door and the other X-Men had kept their distance, but he had seen the pity in Warren and Bobby's eyes. Rogue's had been cold and he had overheard her question his decision to stay at the boathouse, claiming Remy was trying to turn him against her. Did she really think that the world revolved about her? Scott shook his head at the memory. He had simply ignored her comments.
Logan's injuries, which he had contracted in his fight with Creed, had completely healed. The Canadian had been oddly silent, just watching him enter and leave the mansion. He's had a crush on Jean for years... this is hard on him too, Scott realized.
But where was Remy? Looking about, Scott frowned. The boathouse was deserted and he hoped Remy hadn't left the premises. Creed was probably still out there. Logan was very secretive about his fight with Creed, but they had learned the hard way that it was nearly impossible to kill Creed.
He wondered about Remy's sudden departure. The Cajun hadn't told him he would be leaving as well. What if Creed had found a way to get to Remy? No, there were no signs of struggle, everything was in its place. Still, he didn't feel comfortable not knowing where Remy was.
It's been snowing for some hours now, Scott mused. The snowfall had started shortly after he had left for the mansion. If he was lucky he could trace Remy's footprints in the snow and they would lead him to the Cajun.
He picked up the coat he had just shed, shrugged into it and left the boathouse again. Once outside, he scanned the blanket of snow, cursing the fact that it was still snowing and the falling snowflakes were now covering up Remy's tracks. But, looking carefully, he found more footprints and assuming they were Remy's, he followed them.
They led him to a deserted chapel at the outskirts of the mansion grounds. Once a week a priest checked on the chapel and then left again. The chapel hardly had any visitors; no one knew its whereabouts, except Remy apparently.
Scott shook off the snow that had settled onto his coat and then opened the door. Only the dim sunlight lit the inside of the chapel and Scott's gaze was drawn toward the small altar. Virgin Mary was looking down the aisle from her pedestal and a few candles were burning at her feet. He found Remy kneeling in front of the statue, staring into the candles.
Maybe he should leave. Remy seemed lost in thought and the Cajun probably wanted some privacy. He turned to leave, but then his left foot hit a wooden bench. The sound echoed through the chapel and Remy jumped to his feet. His bo staff appeared in his right hand, ready to fight off a possible attacker. Scott hesitantly turned to face Remy and was shocked to see tears flowing down the younger man's face. "Remy?" Scott stood his ground, shivering as Remy's eyes pierced his soul. Feeling guilty for intruding, he started for the door again, but Remy's voice stopped him.
"Non, stay."
Scott stopped in his tracks, turned around and looked into Remy's eyes. The next move was up to Remy.
///
Shocked, Remy averted his eyes. "Why are you here? How did you find me?" He hadn't counted on Scott tracking him down; what reason could Scott have for coming after him? "Did somet'in' happen to de team?"
"The team's fine," Scott assured him. "I followed your tracks in the snow because I got worried when I returned to the boathouse and you weren't there..."
Remy sat down on a wooden bench and watched the flames dance. He had lighted three candles so far. He sucked in his breath as Scott walked up to him and sat down beside him.
"What are you doing here, Remy?" His curiosity had gotten the better of him.
"Lightin' candles," Remy whispered. Feeling the wetness on his face, he quickly wiped away his tears. He hadn't been aware of the fact that he was crying. When had that happened? Embarrassed, he wondered if Scott thought any less of him after seeing him cry.
"I can see that, but why are you lighting candles?" Scott sounded as puzzled as he felt.
"I come here every year..." Remy drew in a deep breath. He didn't want to burden Scott with the losses in his life and hoped the other man would change the subject.
"Every year?" Surprised, Scott counted the candles. There were three of them. Remy had been with the team for four years now and he had never noticed the Cajun sneaking off to the chapel? "And we never noticed."
"Don' feel bad 'bout dat," Remy said, smiling sadly. "I made sure you never noticed."
"So why the candles?" Scott tried to catch Remy's eyes, but the Cajun was staring blindly into the candles, tears still simmering in the depths of his glowing orbs.
"One candle for every person I lost," Remy mumbled, absentmindedly, almost drowning in memories.
"Who did you lose?" Suddenly it was very important to Scott to find out, to make up for the disinterest he had displayed all these years. He knew so very little about Remy and it made him feel guilty. Maybe he could still make up for his mistakes.
Remy laughed bitterly. "You'd betta not ask."
"I want to know... please?" Although Remy was reluctant to discuss this, Scott was determined to push it. It was time he took an interest in the Cajun, something that he should have done years ago.
Remy swallowed hard. "Do you really want to know?" Discussing something this private made him uncomfortable and he didn't want to add to Scott's misery.
"Yes, I really want to know." Remy's hand was twitching and Scott suddenly felt bad for pushing Remy, but something told him the Cajun needed to talk about this. Remy had offered him comfort since Jean's death and it was only fair he returned the favor. "Please tell me."
Remy caved in. For years he had kept this inside and the only person who had offered to listen was Xavier, but the professor wasn't here right now, but Scott was. "Bien," he whispered, giving up his resistance. "De first's for my mot'er... she died when I was born. I never met her." Should have said, she was murdered when I was born, mais I don' wanna tell him 'bout Sinister's involvement.
Scott bit his bottom lip. "I never knew that." He felt like a heel for never talking to Remy about this past. He had interviewed all the other members of the team, why not Remy?
Remy shrugged his shoulders, determined not to give Scott too much information.
"And the second candle?" Scott suddenly realized how bad this could get. Remy had probably never discussed this with anyone and being an empath, his emotions might overwhelm the Cajun.
"Philippe," Remy whispered, pushing back memories, but one stood out; regaining consciousness and finding Philippe dying. Although Philippe had tried to sell his virginity he had long ago forgiven him.
"Who's Philippe?" Scott had the uncanny feeling that Remy was hiding a lot from him, only telling him parts of his past.
"I was nine when I met Philippe..." Remy stopped himself from telling Scott everything. Can' do dat. Don' wanna lose de li'l respect he has for me... Scott can never find out 'bout me bein' a whore. I'll take dat secret to de grave.
"Yes?" Scott hoped Remy would continue, but the Cajun remained silent. Okay, I'm getting the message and I won't go there. "What about the third candle?"
"Belle... alt'ough she's 'live, she died... she ain' de femme she used to be. Deat' changed her and I ain' sure it was for de betta." Remy shivered. He knew what the Elixir had done to Julian, and wondered how it had affected Belle. I'll probably never find out... Belle's in N'Awlins and I can never go back dere.
Scott watched as Remy picked up two more candles and his face contorted, realizing there was more to come. Scott wondered if he should stop now, give Remy back his privacy to mourn the ones he had lost, but...
"Dese are for Benjamin and Dave," Remy whispered as he lit the candles.
"Who are Benjamin and Dave?" The two candles joined the other three and Scott watched as more tears made their way down Remy's face. The Cajun quickly wiped them away, but it was too late, he had already seen them.
"For a few days dey were my family," Remy murmured, barely audible. "Dey taught me to trust 'gain, mais dey died as well."
"They died at the same time or...?"
Remy nodded his head once and decided to tell Scott the truth. Was Scott homophobic? He would find out. "Dey were lovers."
Scott never expected that one. "And you knew them because...?"
"Creed had slashed me open in de Morlock tunnels and Dave found me, he was a cop. Benjamin was my doctor and when dey realized I was 'lone dey offered to take me in while I was healin'. De day dey died was one of de worst in my life."
"How did they die?"
"Dey were murdered," Remy revealed in a shaky tone. Taking hold of another candle he placed it alongside the others. "Dis one's for my fat'er..."
Scott frowned. "I thought Jean-Luc LeBeau was still alive..."
"Jean-Luc adopted me. He ain' my real fat'er." He was treading on dangerous grounds and should shut up, but...
"Your real father is dead then?"
"His soul is," Remy remarked cryptically. As far as he was concerned Sinister was dead to him. The scientist had killed his mother and only kept him alive because of his DNA.
His soul is? What kind of answer is that? Scott wavered, wanting to ask more questions, but he simply stared at the candles. There were now six of them.
"You wanna light one?" Remy offered Scott a candle.
"Maybe I should," Scott mumbled. "For Jean... I should light a candle for Jean."
Remy nodded approvingly. "It helps to pick a day to remember dem. Makes you feel closer to de ones you've lost. Keepin' it all inside don' work, trust me, been dere, done dat. You've got to acknowledge dem, acknowledge de pain. It ain' easy, mais it keeps me sane. Mebbe it will work for you as well."
Scott lit the candle and placed it next to Remy's. "What do you do? Say a prayer for them?"
"I ain' dat religious," Remy admitted hesitantly. "Poppa taught me de words, mais... I ain' sure I still believe... mais I like de peace and quiet here... it's bien for rememberin' dem."
Scott sat quietly, understanding the wisdom in Remy's words. The Cajun had found a ritual that offered him some peace of mind and he had to admit that it was working for him as well. Being away from the mansion, the quiet managed to calm him. It was peaceful here and the flickering of the candles made him smile weakly. Jean would have approved of him remembering her in this way.
"Thank you, Remy," Scott whispered eventually. "It's working. Losing Jean still hurts, but... I like remembering her. It feels like giving her a place... like..." Why was it so hard to find the words? "I know she's dead... I'll never see her again... or hear her thoughts in my mind... but this way it feels like she's still close... a part of me... I'm explaining this poorly."
"I understand, mon ami... I do. It feels de same way for me. I'll never forget Benjamin and Dave, dey'll always be here..." Remy placed his right hand over his heart.
"They meant a lot to you, didn't they?" Scott wondered why.
"Oh, oui, more dan you can imagine..." Suddenly memories of Mike took him by surprise. At first, he was tempted to light a candle for Mike as well to remember a love that couldn't be, but Mike was alive and had found a new love. He had to let go, hoping Daniel would make Mike happy. A blush crept over his face as he remembered making love to Mike... It had been a divine experience and suddenly he felt glad he had never been that intimate with Rogue. There had never been real love between Rogue and him; it wouldn't have been making love. Mike taught me de difference between makin' love and fuckin'...
"Remy, I'm getting cold." Scott was shivering. The chapel wasn't heated and the cold was slowly permeating the building, sneaking into his bones. "Want to return to the boathouse?"
"C'est bien," Remy replied, watching the candles burn. He rose from the bench and started for the doorway. Scott followed him at a distance and Remy felt grateful that the other man was giving him a moment to compose himself. His eyes had finally dried and he felt like he could never cry again. He had shed all the tears he could cry.
///
After eating dinner in silence, they retreated to their rooms. Remy decided to take a long, hot bath and tried to relax as the warm water cradled his body... but it was starting again... Non, mon Dieu, not 'gain, not dis quickly!
Scott had fallen asleep and the nightmares were back to torment him. Remy pinched his eyes shut, trying to lock Scott out, but failed miserably. Scott's loneliness continued to call out to him and in the end he gave in. He stepped out of the bathtub and wrapped a towel around his wet hair. After drying his skin he walked into the bedroom and slipped into the sweatshirt and pants, which were waiting for him on his bed.
Soundlessly, he opened the door and walked into the corridor. What if Scott had locked his door tonight? Then he would be facing a sleepless night. Hesitantly, he tried the doorknob and sighed in relief as the door opened. Scott was on top of the comforter, still fully dressed. He was thrashing, tightly snared by the nightmares and completely unaware of his visitor.
Remy came to a standstill in front of Scott's bed and considered his options. I told Hank I would never 'gain use my empat'y on Scott. He didn' want me in his mind dat first time and I can' invade his mind 'gain, mais...
Scott moaned in pain, flung himself onto his right side and extended his arms, as if reaching for someone. For Jean of course... Undecided, he remained motionless, but then Scott's movements became even more frantic and the thrashing grew worse. He actually feared that Scott might fall from the bed and land hard on the floor. It urged him to take action.
Remy soundlessly approached Scott and sat down on the side of the bed. He felt guilty when he reached out empathically, trying to assure Scott that he wasn't alone. Only a few days ago he had promised to never use his empathy on Scott again and now he was doing something he truly loathed. These last nights his presence had been enough to calm Scott down, but not this time.
Scott's arm suddenly caught him around his middle and the other man began pulling him down until he settled on his side, facing Scott. Somehow Scott managed to tuck his head beneath his chin and then pulled him even closer. He had no way out. Scott was holding him tightly, protectively, and if he was honest with himself, he had to admit he loved being held like this.
Mais it's wrong. He's under de impression dat he's holdin' Jean... Briefly, he considered freeing himself, but when he tried to pull back, Scott reacted by tightening his hold. Dat ain' gonna work. He won' lemme go... now what? Don' really have a choice... have to spend de night here...
Resigned, he stopped attempting to free himself of Scott's embrace. A contented sigh escaped Scott's lips and Remy realized he was stuck here for another night.
///
Fuck... It happened again... Embarrassed, Scott stared at the sleeping man in his arms. He remembered being tortured by nightmares, featuring the Phoenix, and then the bad dreams had gone away. A warm presence had wrapped itself around his thoughts, assuring him he wasn't alone, offering comfort and support. That must have been Remy.
The nightmares had been particularly bad last night, probably prompted by remembering Jean as he had lit the candle. Jean, I need you!
Scott wondered what to do next. Remy was still asleep and he couldn't untangle himself from the younger man without waking Remy. And he looks like he's missed out on a lot of sleep lately. Have I been keeping him awake?
This was becoming awkward. These last nights he had only been able to sleep because Remy was close. Does that mean I'll wake up with him in my arms for the next few weeks, months? What if I move back to the mansion and he wants to stay here?
Scott closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. He had to discuss this with Remy. It wasn't fair to the Cajun to pretend nothing had changed between them.
Remy moved about, yawned and slowly opened his eyes. Briefly, he felt disorientated and trapped. Strong arms were holding him tight and he flashed back to Hugo, holding him down. It took a lot out of him to calm down again, but he didn't want to worry Scott.
"Good morning, Remy," Scott said eventually, realizing it was up to him to address this.
"Mornin'," Remy stuttered, confused. Why was Scott still holding him? He expected Scott to jerk back once the other man realized their position.
"I had nightmares again, didn't I?" Scott loosened his hold on the Cajun, but didn't let go yet. Remy had seen him through the night and he didn't want to appear ungrateful by suddenly pulling away.
"Oui, dey were bad..." Remy suddenly felt silly talking to Scott's chest and pushed away from the other man until he was able to look at Scott's face. Merde, I hate de ruby glasses...
"Thank you," Scott whispered, surprised at seeing the expression in Remy's unguarded eyes. There was compassion, affection and something else, which he couldn't label. "But we have to talk about this, Remy."
Remy nodded his head once. "Want me to stay in my room from now on?"
Scott considered his answer carefully. "Will that work? Sleeping separately?"
Remy shrugged his shoulders. "I can' help you fight de nightmares from a distance. Doesn' work dat way. You'll have nightmares wit'out me bein' close and I won' be able to sleep 'cause your nightmares will keep me 'wake."
"That's what I figured..." Scott frowned. "That won't work, will it?"
"Don' t'ink so," Remy admitted, uncomfortably.
"But sleeping close will?" Scott finally admitted the truth to himself. To sleep undisturbed he needed Remy close.
"Oui." Remy averted his eyes and stared at the wall instead. He couldn't believe they were having this conversation.
"I can't sleep in the master bedroom, Remy, not yet. I stayed in that room with Jean and there are too many memories involved. Could you move in here?" Asking Remy to stay was easier than he had thought.
"What?" Remy's eyes grew big.
"I'm asking you to sleep in the same bed with me. We both need rest and..." Remy's startled expression alarmed him. "What's wrong?"
"I can'..." Remy unexpectedly sat upright and was about to flee the room, when Scott's hand settled on his arm, keeping him in place. "Last night I used my empat'y to calm you down. I know you don' want me in your mind, mais I'll do it 'gain if you allow me dis close."
So that's it... that's why I didn't feel alone last night. It makes sense, doesn't it? Jean lived in my mind for years and without her I feel empty, incomplete. Remy filled that void by connecting to me... Scott moistened his dry lips. "Remy? It's okay. I know you did it to comfort me. I'm not angry with you."
Remy felt terribly confused. "Are you sure you're bien wit' it?"
"Yes..." Scott sat upright as well and waited for to Remy look at him. "About my suggestion... I'll understand if you don't want to sleep close to me..."
"Non, I don' mind dat..." Remy bit his lower lip.
"We'll see what happens tonight, okay?" Scott placed his feet on the floor and rose from the bed. "I need a shower. I'll meet you downstairs in a few minutes..."
Remy nodded his head, got to his feet and returned to his bedroom. He collapsed on the bed and clutched his face between his hands. Had Scott really invited him to share the same bed? Stop it! It's only 'cause de nightmares leave him 'lone when I'm close. It ain' 'cause he wants me dere... he wants an empath dere...
Moving mechanically, he headed for the bathroom. A shower sounded pretty good to him too right now.
///
Remy was looking through the kitchen cupboards, wondering what to prepare for dinner. The day had passed quickly. Scott had left the boathouse to take a walk with the professor and Remy had spent most of the day reading and jogging. He was in a bad shape and it was time he started working out on a regular basis.
"We need to go grocery shoppin'," Remy sighed. "Can' make pasta 'gain!"
He listened to Scott, who was channel surfing in the living room. Scott had a hard time relaxing and had already offered to continue teaching the younger students, but Charles had told him to take more time to mourn. Remy agreed with Charles. It was way too early for Scott to return to his normal routine. Maybe once the nightmares grew less.
Bored, Scott left the living area and joined Remy in the kitchen. The Cajun was searching the content of the fridge and didn't seem pleased. "What's for dinner?" He wasn't hungry, but realized that if he refused to eat, Remy would do the same.
Remy closed the refrigerator. "Don' know... we don' have dat many choices..." He turned around and glanced at Scott. The other man looked relaxed, but he still felt the unease in Scott's mind. Maybe it was the prospect of sleeping in the same bed tonight.
A knock on the front door interrupted their conversation. "I'm on it," Scott said and walked over to the doorway. Opening it, he smiled. "Warren, Bobby... and is that pizza?" Seeing them here surprised him.
Remy froze in his tracks. He could deal with Bobby's presence, but why was Warren here? He's probably here to check on Scott... mebbe I should disappear upstairs and give dem some privacy? Remy moved quickly and climbed the stairs. After closing the bedroom door behind him, he sat down on the bed. Tired, he lay down and stared at the ceiling. Oui, should give dem some privacy... Warren won' want me 'round...
He tightened his shields to the maximum and tried not to eavesdrop. Picking up his book, he rolled onto his left side and began to read. Although his stomach growled hungrily, he managed to ignore it.
///
Bobby walked over to the kitchen table and dropped off his pizzas. "Hope you're hungry... this was Warren's idea."
Scott looked at Warren. "This was your idea?"
"Yeah," Warren admitted. "Hank and Logan wanted to join us as well, but we didn't want to invade your home like that so we're taking turns. Hank and Logan will bring dinner tomorrow evening."
Scott sat down at the kitchen table. Smelling the pineapple on the pizzas made him aware how hungry he really was. He hadn't eaten since breakfast. "Thanks, I appreciate it." Scott opened one of the pizza boxes and smiled. "My favorite."
Bobby and Warren sat down as well and both started munching on a slice. "Hey, where's Remy?" Bobby looked about, but didn't see the Cajun anywhere.
Scott stopped eating. Damn, Remy had been here only moments ago! "I really don't know... I'll check upstairs." Scott rose and climbed the stairs. "Leave some pizza for Remy and I!"
"Will try," Bobby mumbled, without commitment. He exchanged a glance with Warren. "I saw him standing in the kitchen when we arrived. He fled upstairs."
"Why?" Warren frowned.
"Come on, Warren... don't play dumb. Remy knows you don't like him." Bobby would never shy back from telling his friend the truth. "He probably figured he wasn't welcome and left."
Warren sighed. He had reached that conclusion himself, but had hoped Bobby would come with a different explanation. "It's true," he admitted. "I never liked him, but he helped Scott when he was catatonic. Maybe we can get along now..."
Bobby smiled brilliantly, pleased with Warren's changed attitude. "You should tell him that."
"Maybe I will."
///
"Remy?" Scott knocked on the door and listened closely. "Remy? Can I come in?" He grew concerned when Remy didn't answer him. He didn't want to invade Remy's privacy, but this wasn't a healthy reaction. "Remy, I'm coming inside."
Scott opened the door and found Remy reading on his bed. "What's going on? Why didn't you stay?" He advanced on the Cajun and came to a standstill next to the bed. Scott cocked his head, trying to get a better look at Remy's face. Remy was shutting him out and he wasn't going to accept this.
Grabbing the book from Remy's hands, Scott went down on his heels so he was level with the Cajun. "Remy, tell me what's going on."
Briefly, Remy felt angry. Scott didn't have the right to grab his book like that! Now he no longer had a reason to ignore the other man. Sighing, he gave in. "Wanted to give you some privacy, what's wrong wit' dat?"
Scott studied Remy's facial expression and suddenly realized that he could sense Remy's emotions. Apparently, Remy couldn't control his empathy completely yet. His emotions were leaking now that the Cajun felt insecure. "Is it because of Warren? I know the two of you never got along."
Remy blinked his eyes. His shields were at maximum at yet he felt... sensed Scott. "Don' wanna intrude, mon ami. Dey're here to see you."
"Remy, come on, let's go. They brought pizza and I know you're hungry. I can hear your stomach rumbling." Scott extended his left hand in invitation. "Don't worry about Warren. I've known him for years and although he sometimes appears arrogant, he has a good heart." Scott held his breath as Remy made up his mind. "Come on, Remy, I'm not eating pizza without you," he said, using Remy's tactics against the Cajun.
Remy sighed. "You're playin' dirty, Cyke."
"Why don't you call me Scott? I never liked Cyke."
Remy mumbled an apology. "Sorry, didn' know dat..." Reluctantly, he rose from the bed and followed Scott downstairs. Seeing Warren at the kitchen table, he sat down as far away as possible from the other man.
"Here, they said this was pizza Cajun style," Bobby teased and pushed the still closed pizza box toward Remy.
"Merci," Remy replied shyly and opened the box. His stomach was giving him away, making loud noises. Slowly, he picked up one slice and took a bite out of it. "C'est bon."
Scott returned from the kitchen and put bottled water, soda and red wine on the table so everyone could pick their favorite drink. He settled for the bottled water, still weary to drink alcohol.
Bobby and Warren chose the red wine and Remy went for the bottled water as well. Scott hated the awkward silence that had descended on the room and tried to make small talk. "So Bobby, I guess you're responsible for the snowfall?"
"Ha! I wish I had that kind of influence on the weather! I can only freeze the water in your pipes, treating you to an icy cold shower!" Bobby sipped his beer and watched Warren, hoping his friend would make the first move.
Warren studied Remy in turn and tried to reconcile everything he knew about the Cajun with what had happened these last weeks. Finding out that Remy had worked for Sinister and had gathered the Marauders had infuriated him, but later he'd had time to think everything over. While talking to Bets, who fully condemned Remy for his so called 'crimes', he had realized that he didn't share her opinion. Remy had proven his loyalty to the X-Men over and over again and bringing Scott back from his catatonic state had only confirmed the Cajun's loyalty.
But then he had witnessed how Sinister had coaxed Remy into lowering his shields and his suspicion had returned. It was time to find out what was really going on.
"Remy, can we talk in private?" Warren asked, already pushing back his chair.
Remy almost dropped his bottled water and sought out Warren's eyes. Sensing Warren's conflicting emotions, he grew still. "Oui," he whispered, wishing he could go back to his room instead. But whatever Warren wanted to discuss, the other man wanted to talk about it privately so it was probably something bad.
Scott had noticed Remy's startled reaction and wanted to intervene when Bobby shook his head, indicating he should let Warren and Remy talk. Reluctantly, he watched them leave the kitchen. "Bobby, what's going on?"
Bobby leaned back. "I think Warren's coming around. Don't worry too much."
But Scott's skin was crawling with unease.
///
"Here." Warren handed Remy a parka and slipped into his own. Then he opened the front door and stepped onto the porch.
Remy draped the parka over his shoulders and reluctantly followed Warren. It had stopped snowing and the white blanket hurt his eyes. The full moon wasn't helping, adding to the snow's white intensity. "What?"
"I want to ask you something," Warren admitted, leaning against the wall and studying Remy's reactions closely.
Remy wished the earth would open up and swallow him. He really didn't want to do this. Warren hated his guts and this conversation wouldn't be pleasant. "What do you wanna know?"
"After you absorbed Scott's depression you felt depressed yourself. What happened? How did you get rid of that depression?" Warren was curious to find out what Remy was going to tell him. Would the Cajun lie? Mention Sinister?
Remy shrugged his shoulders, never expecting that one. What should he do? Answer the question or go back inside? Why was Warren doing this? What would Scott want him to do? "I don' know exactly what happened," he started, "it almost felt like a dream. Jean-Luc was dere, tellin' me everyt'in' would be bien and... I trusted him... and lowered my shields so de feelings had a way out. Den I fell 'sleep 'gain... I still need to call him... why didn' he stay longer to talk to me?" Remy, lost in thought, didn't notice Warren's expression.
"So your father talked you into letting go?" Warren's instincts told him the Cajun was telling him the truth. Remy didn't know what had happened after Sinister had stepped away from the exam table. The Cajun hadn't seen him morph back. Should he tell Remy what had really happened?
"Oui, Jean-Luc assured me everyt'in' was bien... mais why did he leave 'gain? He could have stayed until I woke 'gain..." Remy shivered. "I don' see him dat often, you know and..."
"There's something else I wanted to ask you," Warren said, deciding not to reveal the truth to Remy just yet. It wasn't his business anyway. "What's your connection with Sinister? Are you still working for him?" The startled expression on Remy's face told Warren enough. Remy was truly shocked that he would even think that!
"Non! I ain' workin' for him! Don' wanna see him ever 'gain! He ruined my life!" Remy pulled the parka closer around his form and lowered his eyes.
"How did you come into contact with him?" Warren reached the conclusion that Remy really didn't know that Sinister had helped him release Scott's depression. Sinister was obviously playing Remy, but why?
"My powers were outta control," Remy admitted, wondering why Warren wanted to know these things. Warren had judged him a long time ago and had never given him a second chance. "He operated on me... I was scared I was gonna blow myself up and take out innocents wit' me..."
"Why didn't you ask the professor for help?"
"Didn' know 'bout de professor. Stormy introduced me to him." Remy cringed, recalling their first meeting. How was it possible that he had lost Storm's friendship? I made too many mistakes.
Warren considered his next move. Remy had convinced him that the Cajun didn't know about Sinister's visit to the lab. Remy obviously didn't know what game Sinister was playing. I should give him the benefit of the doubt...
"Can we go back inside now? I'm cold..." Remy already started for the door, but suddenly Warren's hand came to rest on his shoulder and the gesture stopped him. With his back turned toward Warren, he waited for the other man to speak.
"What about a truce, Remy? We've never been friends and I don't think I'm ready to take that step yet, but we could stop distrusting one another." Bets would probably think he had lost his mind, but he didn't care. He made his own decisions; she didn't make them for him. It was time to take back his life. She had influenced him too much lately. "I don't want us to keep fighting."
Remy's eyes grew big. "A truce?" Slowly, he turned around and Warren removed his hand from his shoulder. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah," Warren said firmly. "Let's make a new start."
Remy tried to shake off his surprise. Warren was offering him a truce? "For Scott's sake?"
"Partly," Warren admitted. "But I made mistakes in the past as well and I want to correct them. During the trial, I... Eric the Red pushed all the right buttons and I refused to defend you after learning about your involvement with the Marauders. Maybe we can try again?"
Remy nodded his head. "I'd like dat."
Warren extended his hand. "Let's make a new start, okay?"
Entranced, Remy accepted the offered limb and shook it. "Oui, let's try."
///
Later that evening, Bobby and Warren said their good-byes and headed back to the mansion. Scott turned to look at Remy and felt content, seeing a peaceful expression in the alien eyes. After Warren and Remy had joined them again, the Cajun had been more relaxed. Learning about Warren's peace offering made him smile. But then that smile froze as he realized it was time to turn in for the night.
Scott walked over to Remy and helped him clean up the mess they had made during dinner. "Remy? About tonight..."
Remy didn't look up, but continued to stare at the pizza boxes. "Oui?"
"I'm going upstairs now..." He didn't know how to phrase the rest. "You're welcome to join me," he said eventually. To his surprise, Remy blushed fiercely.
"Mebbe," Remy whispered.
Scott nodded once and then climbed the stairs. In his room, he removed his clothes and put on sweatpants and a long sleeved shirt. After slipping between the covers, he stared at the door, hoping Remy would join him. Although he felt awkward about sleeping in the same bed with Remy, he realized it was the only solution to their problem.
Remy opened the door and stepped inside. He had already changed his clothes and now shuffled his feet, hesitant to approach the bed. Dis is wrong, should be in my own room, my own bed, not here!
Scott sensed Remy's unease as it slithered into his mind. Determinedly, he pushed back the covers, inviting Remy in.
Slowly, Remy lay down at a distance from Scott, making sure they weren't touching. "Night, Cy... Scott."
"Good night, Remy." He pulled the covers back into place and closed his eyes. Listening to Remy's breathing, he quickly fell asleep.
Remy however, stayed awake a little longer. He wasn't really surprised when the nightmares started again and after reaching out and reassuring Scott, the bad dreams faded away. Scott reached for him and pulled him close. Remy was lying on his left side, facing away from Scott and feeling the other man spooned up behind him made him tremble. Fighting back his rising panic, he concentrated on the relaxation techniques Mattie taught him years ago. Several minutes later, he managed to fall asleep as well.
///
The next morning, Scott opened his eyes and snuggled up to the warm body in front of him. It took him a moment to realize that he wasn't holding Jean, but Remy. But I slept extremely well last night... and he wasn't ready to face the nightmares again. Hopefully Remy would be willing to keep him company at night until he was strong enough to face his nightmares alone.
///
One month later.
They had settled into a comfortable routine. Living at the boathouse had given them a chance to get to know each other and they had both been surprised to find they got along well. The nightmares were growing less frequent, and Scott was getting ready to move back to the mansion. Remy wasn't sure yet if he was ready to return to the mansion and had decided to stay at the boathouse a little longer.
Officially, he was back on the team, but he preferred to limit the contact to a minimum. He took part in missions again, but always felt the distrust in Storm, Betsy and Rogue's minds. Luckily, Scott always remained close and so far, there hadn't been any confrontations between the team members.
Now he was watching Scott pack and he was starting to feel cold and empty inside. He had become more dependent on Scott than he wanted to admit. The other man's presence had kept him from going insane, but now Scott was moving back to the mansion."Remy, are you sure you don't want to return to the mansion?" Scott was worried. They hadn't slept apart for a month now and there was no way of knowing how bad the nightmares would be now that he would be sleeping on his own again.
"I don' wanna go back jus' yet," Remy explained, as he leaned against the wall. "Storm hasn' forgiven me and I can' stand bein' close to Rogue right now..."
Scott nodded his head. Remy had told him how cold Rogue's thoughts were and he couldn't blame the Cajun for staying clear of her. But Storm was a problem he intended to deal with. She was currently the leader of the X-Men and a good team leader made sure all team members felt comfortable working with the others. Storm however, ignored Remy when he took part in a mission and only acknowledged his presence when absolutely necessary. He wasn't ready yet to lead the X-Men again, but he still felt the responsibility that went with the job. "Will you be okay here, alone?"
"Oui. Don' worry 'bout me, Scott." Remy had a hard time pretending that Scott's moving out didn't faze him. In reality, he wanted Scott to remain close. He had grown used to Scott's presence and didn't want to be alone again. Sleeping alone would be particularly hard, as he had loved feeling Scott's arms around him at night. Mais it's time to let go. Scott's dealin' wit' Jean's death'. He doesn' need me any longer.
Scott finished packing and closed his duffel bag. Feeling shy, he didn't know what to say. He had gotten used to eating dinner with Remy, talking to him while watching TV and snuggling up to him at night. Now he was on his own again. "Let me know if you need to talk? I might be moving back to the mansion, but I'm not moving out of your life."
"Merci, Scott, mais I can manage," Remy said with a determination that was just a front. "You'd betta leave now. Dey're expectin' you for dinner."
Scott walked toward Remy and he surprised both of them by giving the Cajun a hug. "I wish you'd move back to the mansion as well."
"Mebbe in a few weeks," Remy said, evasively. He was relieved when Scott released him. Sometimes the illusion he had built became too real. These last few weeks he had indulged himself, fantasizing that Scott had become his best friend and that maybe they could become more than friends. But he had been lying to himself.
He didn't follow Scott outside as the other man left. Shakily, he collapsed on the couch and petted a pillow. I'm 'lone 'gain... ain' dat de story of my life? Dey always leave me... Fighting his tears, he wondered if God would ever feel he had been punished enough for his past mistakes or if he would continue to pay for the rest of his life. Feeling miserable and lonely, he stared at the wall, wondering how he was going to cope all alone.