Title: Watching and Waiting
Author: Chris (teufelce@aol.co)
Website: none
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Watching and Waiting 6
By Chris
*FLASH* Immobility... blinding pain....
*FLASH* Lights... so bright... can't scream...
"Cher?"
*FLASH* Masked faces... glint of sharp metal...
"Cher... réveilles-toi..."
*FLASH* PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN
"Cher! Réveilles-toi!"
Logan snapped awake, a scream dying on his lips as his body tried to arch upwards off the bed. A firm hand on his chest forced him back down as his lungs struggled for air. As his eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness of the room, he could make out Remy's face hovering over him, eyebrows furrowed with concern. He lifted a shaky hand to rub the beaded sweat from his face, a harsh sigh falling from his mouth as his eyes closed tight against the
remnants of panic still coursing through him. "Wanna talk about it, cher?" The sound of the Cajun's low voice was soothing in his ears, as the other man propped himself up on one elbow, his other hand gently brushing dampened hair from Logan's forehead.
"Nightmare..." His own voice sounded hoarse and rough in the quiet of the room, as though raw from hours of screaming, and he felt a surge of uneasiness over how vulnerable he'd made himself to sleep next to someone.
Cracking his eyes, he was surprised to see the expression of tender sympathy on Remy's face and felt his heart squeeze in his chest.
"You have dese... nightmares often, cher?"
"Sometimes every night, sometimes a week goes by without one, but... yeah, often enough..." Logan whispered, the memories of what he'd dreamed already fading, the emotions they'd stirred up lingering more tenaciously. Something akin to pain flickered across the taller man's face and then Remy was slipping an arm behind his head, pulling Logan into a tight embrace. He tensed for a long moment, resisting the offered comfort as instincts of
self-preservation screamed at him to show no further weakness. /Fuck it/, he thought bitterly, forcing his muscles to relax in the circle of the other man's arms. /I'm tired of it... Tired of waking up terrified and alone... Don't wanna deal with it anymore... Too tired.../ As exhaustion began to take hold once again, he felt Remy place a soft kiss against his hair. "S'okay, cher... relax ... no one gonna hurt you now, cher... Remy won' let dem..." The gentle lilt of the velvet accent lulled Logan and his eyes began to slide shut. His mind not registering the continued whispers as sleep claimed him once more. "Not alone anymore, cher... no more..."
~~~~~~~~~
He was having another nightmare. Thick viscous liquid was smothering him and he couldn't break free from the restraints binding him. As his terror built, he could feel Remy shaking him, trying to get through to him through the
panic. He couldn't break free... The sharp pain in his knuckles and a soft, gurgling gasp brought his eyes open in an instant. To find his claws embedded in Remy's chest, dark blood spilling across his hand as the Cajun stared back at him with confused reproach in his eyes. Eyes whose red glow dimmed and faded as Logan looked on in horror. Snapping the blades back into their sheaths with a sick, sucking sound, Remy gave one last wet sigh before collapsing motionless against the sheets. Logan threw back his head and howled in agony. "No!!!!!!!!!!!"
~~~~~~~~~
Lungs laboring in terrified panic, Logan's eyes snapped open. It was a long moment before the sound of deep breathing and the feel of warm arms tight around him registered over the roaring in his ears. /Oh god... thank god...
just a dream.../ Logan shifted within the other man's embrace, earning a muttered protest, turning so that he could see the Cajun's face. Even in the darkness of the room, he could make out Remy's delicate features and he spent a long moment
just letting his eyes linger over that face. In sleep, Remy's face had softened, losing that careful guarded look that was always there during his waking hours. He looked peaceful, angelic - innocent. Looking down on that beautiful face, Logan felt a stab of pain as memories of his dream came crashing down on him. He could've killed him. How it could happen any time, with such horrific ease. One nightmare, bad enough to release the claws, and all the love inside him wouldn't be able to save the man sleeping beside him. He couldn't risk it. No amount of peace, no amount of pleasure was worth that kind of loss. Feeling as if his heart were cracking to pieces inside of an aching chest, Logan slowly slid out of the embrace and from beneath the sheets. Remy mumbled in his sleep, hand reflexively tightening against the still warm spot
where Logan had lay, before he sank deeper into sleep again. Silently pulling his jeans on, Logan picked up his shirt and shoes and turned for the door. His hand stilled on the knob and he closed his eyes against the pain inside. Against the urge to go back to that bed and those arms. Turning slowly, he looked one last time at the lean body sprawled so unselfconsciously across the satin sheets. When his eyes began to sting, he bit back a low snarl and turned back to the door.
"It's better this way..." he whispered, before yanking the door open, stepping into the empty hall and pulling it shut behind him. /This way, no one gets hurt.../
~~~~~~~~~
Once again, Logan found himself the center of attention when he stalked into the kitchen just after dawn. This time, only Scott and Ororo were present - Jean had flown down to D.C. for hearings before the Senate on the proposed
Mutant Registration Bill. Scott uttered a curt, "Logan", by way of greeting and stood sipping his coffee. Face, as always, an unreadable mask beneath those glasses. Ororo looked up from her breakfast at the table, the smile on her face dying when she took in the dark circles around his eyes and the palpable dark cloud hovering around him. He ignored them both, grabbing a mug of black coffee and slumping into a chair in the corner. He'd done the right thing. He knew he had. He couldn't risk hurting Remy. So why did it hurt so damn much? Lost as he was in his thoughts, the slight sound of movement in the hallway and the steadily increasing scent of the
Cajun was all the preparation Logan needed to school his face into an emotionless mask. Remy's hair was still damp from the shower and there was a bounce to his step as he swept into the kitchen, slapping Scott on the back and almost making the other man choke on his coffee, as he turned a brilliant smile on Ororo.
"How's Remy's favorite goddess dis mornin', eh?" The grin on the Cajun's face began to fade as he took in the tight concern on Ororo's, her eyes flickering to where Logan sat silently. The smile fell completely as Logan stood without a word. "Cher?" The confusion in Remy's voice tore at Logan's control. He had to get out of there. *Now*. Not stopping to acknowledge the thief's words, Logan pushed roughly past him and fled the kitchen.
It was the right thing to do. It had to be...
~~~~~~~~~
Between occupying himself with making repairs out at the boathouse, and working on his bike in the garage, Logan managed to avoid the Cajun for most of the afternoon. The thought that he wasn't really trying all that hard to
hide, that both places would have been obvious to anyone who knew him, was ruthlessly crushed. As was the more painful thought that Remy wasn't even looking for him. Throwing down a wrench with a muttered curse, Logan climbed to his feet. All the pain and anger and frustration was driving him insane. Only one way to burn off that kind of tension. Wiping the grease from his hands, he stalked
into the mansion and headed for the Danger Room and a few rounds of mind-numbing violence. He'd only just entered the room and was standing at the console, keying in the simulations he wanted, when he heard the hydraulic doors slide shut with a bang. Nostrils flaring, he felt his heart begin to thud against his ribcage as the thief's scent washed over him. Turning slowly, he slapped a scowl on his face.
Remy was standing inside the door, hands clenched into fists at his side, eyes glittering dangerously.
"You got a problem, Gumbo? I'm trying to work out, here," he growled roughly, avoiding meeting those eyes directly.
"Oh, oui, Remy got a problem, homme... He wanna know why you take off in de middle of de night wit'out even a 't'ank you', and den treat him like de plague in de middle of de damn kitchen!" Whoa. The kid was definitely
pissed... "Yeah, well, it was fun while it lasted, but I got better things to do," Logan bit out, turning back to the console. /Hurt him. Make him think you don't want him. Then he'll back off.../
"Better t'ings to do? Like runnin', homme? Jus' a quick tumble all you wanted from Remy, eh?" The voice was low, the accent thick with anger and something else. Something Logan didn't want to identify. He spun back around at the accusation, forcing anger onto his own face."I don't run, kid. And I don't want anything from you." Remy's eyes
narrowed in repsponse. "You forgetin' Remy's an empat', homme... He know your lyin'... An' ain't eit'er of us leavin' dis room til you tell him why you runnin' from what you feel." Logan could feel the bottom of his stomach drop out with that harshly
delivered promise, and he watched helplessly as Remy's fingers punched in the code that would keep the door sealed against intrusion. Locking them both inside...