Author: Xantissa
e-mail : xantissa@xl.wp.pl
Feedback: come to me, come to me…
Pairing: Logan (Wolverine)/Remy LeBeau (Gambit)
Rating: PG- 13
Archive: You like it? You take it! Just let me know (so I can swell with pride!)
Disclaimer: not mine (sigh) so don’t sue me
Warnings: Some language maybe. No sex, no blood (I know! Not like me at all) just get a handkerchief!
Summary: Remy and Logan return to the mansion. Scott starts realizing just what had he done to the thief and Remy gets a surprise from Bobby.
Series: sequel to “Making a choice” and “When things are different (Part 1)”
Author notes: Tell me what you think about Scott remembering that evening!
Thanks to my lovely Sara for putting up with my demands and doing beta sooooo fast. I love you girl J

When things are different

Part 2

He was sitting in the farthest end of the Blackbird and was watching Logan. There was something wrong with that picture.

If the Wolverine hadn’t remembered the events of the previous night, why was he keeping his distance? The confusion and anger pouring off of him was clear and not only to an empath.
He was tense and avoided eye contact with Remy. It was as if he felt guilty.

But Remy was feeling too sick to ponder it. Right now, the most important thing in his life, was keeping from emptying the contents of his stomach on the jet’s floor.

He still didn’t know what to think about last night’s events. Had Logan really raped him? He wasn’t sure. On the one side he hadn’t resisted. On the other, he was too scared to do anything. Logan was powerfully built, short but with the arms of a heavy-weight boxer and big, rough hands that could crush man’s throat without any problem. Add to that an adamantium reinforced skeleton, plus attitude and anybody would think twice before resisting. And yesterday, Logan was ALREADY feral.

Remy sighed heavily and shifted on the seat, when another wave of nausea came over him.

He felt like shit – not only physically.

Suddenly he missed Jean-Luc.

The gentle hands of his father and warm voice of tante Mattie. They always had the time and patience for him. They loved him… and he lost them too. So many things went wrong in his life. He had lost so much… but still couldn’t imagine himself giving up; accepting death. It just wasn’t him. Words “what doesn’t kill, makes you stronger” aren’t just hollow words. It is true.

He survived abuse, betrayal, disappointment, guilt…sometimes he felt old. Having just 23 years, he seemed to have lived three lifetimes already.

Suddenly, he started wondering if Logan felt the same. After all he WAS old.

Scott watched the console of the plane but sometimes caught a glimpse of Logan pretending to watch the skies outside, but really he was watching the Cajun.

Gambit sat in the farthest seat in the aft of the Blackbird, curled into small, shaking bundle of clothes. He looked so vulnerable and young, with that ugly bruise on his temple, that Scott felt a strange stinging inside his chest.

Then, he realized how YOUNG the Cajun really was. His auburn hair lost its’ shine long ago and he had lost weight, maybe too much.  His face lost that charming smile that he was secretly jealous of. And when had that happened?

Stupid question.

The man that had returned from Antarctica had nothing to do with kid that they had left there. The cockiness that he showed them was only a game, a mask – whereas before it was his way of life. Ever since his return he was careful with the rest of the team. Scott was glad that he found his way back, but failed to show it. It probably was just easier. If he admitted he was happy Gambit had returned, he would have to admit that he failed as team leader. And he wasn’t ready to do that.

Although, he admitted to himself, that he felt relief when Gambit decided to move to the boathouse. It was such a simple and easy way for Scott, of solving an inconvenient situation.

Gambit had stopped coming to the Mansion. For the first few months, he hadn’t even noticed.

Everything had just settled back into what passed for normal at the Mansion when Logan’s comment had destroyed it all.

He couldn’t forget that evening.

They were sitting in the rec room, watching some old movie that Jean was crazy about. She and Scott sat snuggled close on the couch and Scott remembered thanking god that there were no emergencies lately. He could finally enjoy his life and Jean. He released a small sigh that no one noticed.

No one except Wolverine, of course.

Logan stood with dark scowl on his face, leaning on the windowsill and watching the night outside. It was completely dark, and rain was pouring heavily, but he seemed to be watching something intently.

“Are yer comfy and warm, Cyke?” He asked not looking away from whatever he was watching.

Taken aback by the sudden question and a strange viciousness in Logan’s voice, Scott became cautious. Logan often played on his nerves, teased him, angered him, but they shared mutual respect and a kind of rough friendship after all these years spent working and fighting together. He couldn’t remember when Logan’s voice had so much venom in it.

“Why are you asking, Logan?” Said Scott, carefully, not wanting to start an argument.

He didn’t answer for a very long time. When Scott decided he wouldn’t get an answer, he sat back to watch TV, Logan spoke.

“Cause I know a person that isn’t so comfy and warm…” The voice changed. Became low and cold. Only those who knew him, knew that such coldness in Logan voice was more deadly than rage.

The whole time, Logan’s gaze never left its focus. The Wolverine, seemingly did not notice the strange glares from other X-men, shrugged and left without a word. They heard a distinct click of outer doors and then the sound of a powerful engine roaring to life.

“What was that all about?” Asked Warren, the winged mutant, mockingly.

“And why is he leaving to ride a bike when the weather is so dangerous?” Storm wondered aloud.

“Don’t know.” Bobby said, averting his gaze. He knew what Logan was talking about. He saw what Logan had been so intently watching. It was nothing new to him. He felt the same.
Shame, anger… it was all there. It was the reason why, lately he spent so little time at the mansion.

“Anyway, what was he staring at?” Asked Warren, sarcastically. “At his own reflection?”

Scott, driven by sudden feeling, came over to the spot and looked into the dark – mirror like - window.

The thing he saw, caused a sudden chill to run through his body.

There, at a distance could easily be seen a weak light. It was the Boathouse. The light was the only in the window – a memorial candle.

As a boy, Scott had seen enough of them to recognize that soft, sad fire. But usually they were standing on graves…

It was the first and the last time Logan made any allusion to Remy and The Trial. Foolishly, Scott assumed that if everybody else accepted the situation, so would the Wolverine. But he was mistaken. Again.

Logan came back three days later and acted like nothing had happened. Only their sparring became more brutal, their usual teasing had an edge of venom and that silent, strong trust that Logan had put in him for so long, suddenly disappeared.

Scott realized that he had lost a friend, and didn’t know what to do, to change it.

Now, watching the beaten boy and disturbed almost ex-friend, he wondered if he would ever have the chance to make things right. He missed Logan. As hilarious as it sounded, it was the truth.

“What happened Logan?” Scot asked in his most neutral voice. “When I contacted, you said that mission went well. That no one was hurt. Gambit is hurt.”

Scott expected a snarl, or a curse. But he got something different.

“It wasn’t the mission. The kid and I… we had some problems. We started fighting. Somewhere on the road he charged my shirt – probably just accidentally, cause I hit him too hard. I didn’t want to hurt him anyway… but…”

Scott waited. It was unusual for Logan to talk so openly.

“I am afraid he is worse shape than you think. After he charged my shirt, I went feral. Then, I don’t remember much.” He said finally. What he done while being feral… that wasn’t something he wanted to talk about. If the kid decided he wanted to tell somebody, then so be it. He was the one that was hurt. Logan didn’t deserve to be spared.

Scott opened his mouth and then closed it. He could tell that there was something that Logan wasn’t telling him, but since it wasn’t something directly connected to the mission, he shouldn’t insist. Logan talked to him. It was awhile, since they sat together and weren’t jumping at each other’s throats.

Hearing the news, he looked at the kid once more. And suddenly he saw the bruised arms, the way he was curling in the seat… his eyes widened at the realization, what exactly Gambit looked like – like a victim.

Hiding his feelings deep under the mask of self-control, he put on the earphones and contacted Hank.

“McCoy.” Came short, impatient answer. The big, blue, furry scientist was probably working in his lab and couldn’t see the world outside.

“Get the infirmary ready.”

“Stars and garters! Is somebody wounded?”

“Gambit has… some injuries. I would appreciate if you wouldn’t raise the alarm.”

There was a long silence, and then a soft answer.

“Of course, Fearless Leader…”

Logan cast him a sideways glance, but kept silent. Somewhere along the way, Gambit fell asleep.

* * *

Sever watched random people come in and out of building that, as her ADB said, was a kind
fast food.

Her golden eyes with vertical pupils changed to black. It was night already and her pupils dilated to allow her night vision. She was interested in people’s cars more than anything else, but something inside her, disturbed her. A strange feeling coming from her body stopped her, confused her. It took her some time to realize, according to ADB, that she was… hungry. Her body – until yesterday was kept alive and received nutrition artificially – laked fuel.

Suddenly her sensors detected an incoming person. Moments later she saw a man. He was an ordinary human. There wasn’t even a trace of a threat to her.

She allowed him to come closer. He had brown eyes, very short, black hair and a well-trained body. The muscles looked like those belonging to a person that worked them in a battle, not in the gym.

He was watching her carefully, his warm eyes hiding true feelings.

“Hey there…” He said softly, like he would to a frightened animal.

He saw her white hair from behind, and at first thought she was some older lady, but when he came closer he realized how young she was! And that she was a mutant. Then he noticed she was barefoot, only wearing a long, thin coat. Her naked legs visible from the knee, were extremely pale and delicate. She looked… vulnerable. Probably had some problems. For a mutant with such a visible mutation it wasn’t safe to be walking around this town.

Strangely, but when he looked straight into her golden eyes he was not unfazed. They were beautiful. She was beautiful.

“You can’t stay here. It is dangerous.” He said carefully, not approaching her yet. He didn’t want to scare her off.

 “Are you lost?”

She cocked her head and just stared at him with unmoving eyes.

He heard footsteps in the adjoining lane and prayed that no one would walk up on them.

“You must be cold… and you certainly can’t stay in here. It’s a small town and people around here don’t like mutants, so it would be better if you came with me. You mustn’t be afraid… I won’t hurt you. Just…” He realized that he didn’t know what to say to convince her.

Suddenly her stomach growled. She moved slightly, like she was surprised by the sound. She looked down her body with a frown.

“You are hungry. Come… I’ll give you something warm… please, trust me.” He pleaded.

She looked young, very young. Although she was much more beautiful than Annie, she still reminded him of his daughter. Annie was raped and beaten to death… because she had been a mutant. Such a cruel death for a sixteen year old girl… and her only crime was that she had an incredible touch for plants. Probably her mutant power. She was killed for that and for having green eyes without pupils.

Now, staring at that young, terribly lost young woman he couldn’t just walk away.

She eyed him once more, this time with more focus. She must have been wondering…

Sever once more launched the ADB. The bio-computer linked to all her senses took the image of the man in front of her.

Subject: Michael Brady
Status:  human
Occupation: 2005-2019 Marines, 2020-2025 Special Tactics Unit, left because of personal reasons.
Family: ex-wife- Marisa Brady - living in New York, New York and daughter Annie 2009-2025.
More information needed?

Sever stopped the ADB. It was all she needed to know. He wasn’t linked to Sinister, or to the X-Men. She could go with him. After all… he had no chances of survival with her.

* * *

Logan was pacing.

Six steps, turn around.
Six steps, turn around.

What was taking the Beast so long?

Six steps, turn around.
Six steps, turn around.

The kid wasn’t looking THAT bad when they finally came back home.

Six steps, turn around
Six steps, turn around

He suddenly stopped and remembered how hard it was to force the kid to come down to the infirmary.

* * *

“ Non!” He almost yelled. “Gambit won’t do it!”

Suddenly, all of his strength returned. The very thought of telling Beast what happened made his breath catch. If Hank knew, he would tell Scott. If Scott knew something so did Jean. And Scott would go to the Professor to tell him. Soon everyone would know.

He felt bad enough. He didn’t need everyone’s derision thrown in the mix.

He straightened and stepped one step closer to Logan. His red eyes flashed with anger. Its ferocity surprised Logan. He forced Logan to look up, to meet his gaze. He was taller and intended to use all of his tricks.

“Remy tol’ you already, dat he just hit himself in de head. Nothing serious. Jus’ need some time to sleep it off.” When he was angry, his accent became thicker.

“No! Yer will go to see Hank!” Snarled Logan, twisting his face in angry snarl, instinctively assuming an aggressive stance.

Remy noticed this and backed off slightly. He was in no shape to be fighting with Logan again.

“Why are you insisting? What did ol’ Gambit ever done to deserve dis kind of affection?”

Logan’s facial expression changed from angry to serious.

“I can’t leave you alone kid. Not after, what happened yesterday.”

Remy sucked a breath in and backed off even more. He almost visibly curled into himself. All of the will to fight left him at once.

“So you lied to Gambit. You said you didn’t remember.”

“No. I only asked what was wrong, what made ya vomit and shake so badly. But… after that night it was a stupid question. But I really don’t remember. Not all of it anyway.”

“How…?” This time it was Remy who refused to look Logan in the eye

“When I woke up… I could smell it. Smell myself on your skin, your sweat on mine and still feel your taste. I can’t let you go to the Boathouse, not without knowing how bad I hurt you.”

There was a long silence. Remy refused to look at Logan, or even to speak to him. He just wanted to disappear, cease to exist.

“We must talk about it… please… Gambit…” Suddenly Logan realized what had he called him. In all the time, when he thought of them as friends, he barely called the Cajun differently than nicknames. Kid, kiddo, boy, Cajun, Gambit, Gumbo… thief… never his real name.  – Remy – He said slowly, like he was tasting it.

The boy’s head jerked up. He was so surprised that Logan called him by his name, that he forgot about anything else.

In Logan’s eyes he found only concern, so he lowered his shields just a little bit, to FEEL Logan. To know his emotion. He needed to know if Logan was honest.

The guilt, anger, confusion flooded his mind witch great force. He quickly put the shields back. No wonder Wolverine was so scary to telepaths. A person that could feel so deep, so strong, probably scared the shit out of them.

Now, he could plainly see that Logan felt incredibly guilty for what he had done and wasn’t blaming Remy for it. But… he didn’t know about the Charm power. When he learned about it, he would probably change his mind.

He nodded his head. Although Logan was feeling guilty and strangely protective over him, there was no question Logan would drag him into med lab by any means possible.

“Gambit will go.”

Again that fucking third person!

“But first he would go change.”

Logan wanted to argue but something in hat hypnotizing red eyes stopped him. They looked… vulnerable and tired. His conscience spoke up again telling him to stop! There was no need to push the Cajun further. He had already agreed.

Logan still remembered the strange feeling that came over him, when he watched the lean thief walk away. He caught himself on watching his movement in completely different way. He started noticing how the firm cloth of his trousers stretched and hugged muscular thighs that still managed to be elegant. His whole body was lean, lithe and elegant.

And the way he walked. Like a wild animal – quiet and soft. Logan was sure, that without his enhanced senses, he wouldn’t be able to hear him at all.

And sneaking up on people and surprising them in unexpected places was one of his hobbies.

But that was before Antarctica. There was no playfulness in him anymore. He became cautious, bitter young man.

Logan also remembered his body’s reaction to catching his scent. Spicy, young and… unmistakably his. In a matter of seconds, he had a rather noticeable hard on and was glad that Remy wanted to change into clean clothes first, and only then to go to the Beast.

“You are a sick, perverted bastard” He thought privately “First you hurt the kid, then you go around lusting after him! Get a grip, for Christ sake!”

After that, he decided to go and seek the Beast out himself. Although he really liked the kid, he didn’t trust him to tell the doctor the truth.

The blue, furry genius was sitting behind his littered desk and was massaging the base of his, also blue and furry, nose. His free hand was holding the small glasses and his eyes were closed. However, he was aware of Logan’s presence.

His senses were by no means as sensitive as Logan’s but still better than that of a non-mutant.

“Greetings Logan. I must admit I am surprised by your visit. I was rather expecting our resident thief.”

“I know. He will be here in a few. I have something to tell yer before he comes down.”

“And what is it, my friend?”

“Gambit might try to hide some injuries from ya.”

Hank raised his eyebrows, waiting for Logan to continue. There was something strange in the smaller man today. He was nervous and even his iron self-control didn’t mask it.

“I want you to check him for… other injuries.”

“And what kind would of injury am I looking for?”

Logan stopped shifting from foot to foot and looked Hank straight in the eye.

“Internal damage caused by rape.”

There was a dead silence in the small room. Hank openly stared at him in shock.

“Stars and garters! How did it happen? Who did this? Was I mistaken assuming that your mission went well?”

“We had  some minor problems on mission, and gathered all needed data. It happened… later.”

“What do you mean? Were you attacked?”

“No.”

“So, who did this to him?”

Hank didn’t intend to let it go. He had once turned his back on the young man, letting the others leave him in Antarctica. He should have insisted on checking if Remy was alive or dead before leaving. He never should have trusted Rogue’s word. He made a vow not to do it again.

“Me.”

This one, short word stopped Hank McCoy in his tracks. He couldn’t talk, couldn’t move… only stare at his friend in complete shock.
He had thought that they were friends? Logan’s attitude problems and bad mood were infamous among X-men but this?

Suddenly, in a move that surprised both men, Hank jumped out from his chair and caught Logan by his shirt throwing him, hard on the wall. Before he had time to take a breath, Logan’s hands were forcefully pinned to the wall and very angry, full of deadly fangs, face was only mere inches from his.

“I suggest you have a good explanation for this, or I should find out how much, that adamantium skeleton of yours, can endure.” He growled deep inside his chest.

Claws shot out with loud /snikt/ but Logan hid them away instantly. He had no wish to fight his friend. He deserved it, there was no question.

Besides Hank, usually a very gentle and calm man, was due to his mutation, gifted with inhuman strength that had far overgrown his and agility. If the blue doctor wished to, he could be VERY dangerous.

“I don’t know what exactly happened!” He snarled.

“Speak!”

“We came back to our hideaway and started arguing. Then we fought. I didn’t want to hit him that hard. He lost control over his charge and blew my shirt up. I guess I went feral because it hurt like fucking hell. When I came back to myself it was morning and I could SMELL what happened. I really don’t remember much. Only a few images.”

Beast snarled once more and let go of him. In an instant, turning back into the harmless scientist. Only Logan’s aching wrists were proof of his other side.

* * *

Finally Logan heard the front door crack, telling him that Remy finally leaved the med lab. Wasting no time he went down to ask Beast some questions.

As usual, the door wasn’t locked. He silently entered the lab, where Hank was putting away some medical stuff.

“How is he?”

Hank took his glasses off and massaged the base of his nose as he was wont to do.  The headache was wearing on him. He sighed and looked at his concerned friend.

“You know that I can’t tell you anything. He is my patient after all.” There was a slight bitterness and sadness to his voice.

“Yeah, yeah… just tell me how bad it is. I’m sure you can do that.”

Hank sighed again.

“He is well. You didn’t hurt him, Logan. I really cannot tell you more.”

Logan nodded his head and headed back to the door.

“And Logan…”

“Yes?”

“He needs rest. Give him some time, before you force him to confront you.”  Said Hank quietly, never looking at Logan.

“OK, thanks Hank.”

* * *

Remy finally reached the Boathouse. All he wanted now was a warm bath and sleep. He felt terribly tired. Not only physically, but also emotionally. The physical that Hank had run on him kept him in constant tension.

He went to the lab wanting to tell Beast only to check on his head. He had already checked, while changing clothes, that he wasn’t bleeding.

Surprisingly, he wasn’t. Even after being fucked three times in a row by a feral Wolverine, he had no tearing. He felt sore and ached but, to be true, it wasn’t bad. Just discomfort. If the situation was different, he would probably be glad.

His most serious injury was that ugly bruise on his temple. It caused nausea, and stress. Probably why he felt so sick, because he dropped his shields. It always had its price.

He kicked the door closed, not bothering to lock it. No one would come here to bother him anyway.

He briefly thought about Stormy. Something cold and hard clutched on his heart and he forced himself to sleep thinking about his petite. It hurt too much to see the look of despise in her eyes every time she saw him.

He took the trench coat off and threw it on the nearest chair.

He heard knocking. First, he was alarmed that it could be Logan. He considered not opening the door at all, when he heard Bobby’s voice calling him.

“Remy, open up!”

There was a strange tone to his voice that caught Remy’s attention. And the fact that he was calling his name. After a while he realized that Bobby was ALWAYS calling him by his real name, along with Storm when she still cared about him.

“I know you are there, I saw you!”

Curious, Remy opened the door and let the Iceman in. He briefly took in his appearance. Short, blond hair and icy blue eyes in classic, handsome face. He was well built – heavier than Remy but shorter. After all, almost everyone was shorter than him.

But something in that boyish face changed in these last few months. Remy hadn’t seen him lately and only now realized how… mature he looked. Under that prankster’s mask, hid a grown man, that was still considered a boy by his teammates.

Probably a mistake.

“Bobby… what are you doing here, ami?”

“Um…” Bobby shifted slightly, surprised by paleness of young thief. “I heard you were hurt on this mission, and when you didn’t come to the mansion, I figured that you were feeling pretty sick, you know… that long flight, and probably…” He drifted off, realizing he was babbling terribly. It happened when he was nervous, well not only then.

He abruptly handed Gambit a package he was holding. Out of habit, Remy took it before he knew what he was doing. The package was… warm?

He looked questioningly at the package and then at Bobby, who blushed furiously.

“I know you will probably think its stupid, but… it’s a dinner. You didn’t eat with the rest of the team and hearing that you were wounded I thought you wouldn’t be in the mood to cook yourself, I mean I wouldn’t, so I brought you your dinner. It’s still warm… - He again trailed off, shifting uneasily. He was truly afraid that Remy would start laughing.

“It’s not stupid. It’s… nice. It has been a long time since somebody cared about dis ol’ thief… thank you Robert.” Remy decided that this young man – older than he – deserved respect. In the X-Men he was always the Benjamin, the youngest one. But Remy felt he should somehow show that he respected him. He really did. It took courage to expose himself like that.

“Why?” It was Remy who broke the awkward silence.

Blue eyes met red on black.

“We never were much of friends, but that whole thing with Antarctica… I never wanted it to happen to you. You shouldn’t have ever been left in that place. I… don’t think I could ever understand how scary it must have been for you. I mean… ice is natural for me… Anyway I couldn’t just stay quiet. I wanted to apologize ever since you returned but… I could probably say there was no time but it wouldn’t be true. I was afraid. Scared that you wouldn’t ever forgive me. Maybe we weren’t friends, but we were teammates and… I am sorry. I truly am.”

Remy’s hands trembled so much he was afraid he would drop the warm plate. The last thing he expected, coming here, was Drake apologizing.

He blinked few times and tried to smile reassuringly.

“Gambit… doesn’t know what to say. Dis…”

“I know it’s probably not the perfect time…”

“Non!” Remy said abruptly. “It’s the perfect time. Really.”

Bobby looked at him and noticed every bruise and scratch. He noticed how pale the thief was and how tired. But now, something was shining in his eyes, that were strangely hollow when he came.

“I hope you don’t hate me.”

“I do not.”  Said Gambit, not realizing he started talking in first person again. Bobby however noticed and was glad. In all this time they worked together, Remy never spoke to him like that.

“It isn’t like you could have done something anyway.”.

“But I did.” Bobby said softly.

“What?”

“I went back.”

Remy stared at Iceman for a long, endless moment.

“What are you saying, Robert?”

“Took one of the jets, saying that I needed to go somewhere. They had too much on their minds to listen to me carefully… they never do. I forged the jet’s journal and flew back to Antarctica. Data base says I was in Europe. I looked for you for three days, till they called me back. I knew something was wrong. Rogue said you were dead but I couldn’t find your body. And there of all places, there aren’t many animals that could destroy the body, at least not that quickly.

There was a long silence again. Remy put the plate on the table and sat down on the couch. His hands were still shaking, but not so badly.

“Why…? I thought you had a thing for Rogue…”

“Long ago, yes… but I grew up Remy. There always was only one person I loved. Always will.” There was and edge of sadness in his voice. Something so deep and true it could break the heart.

“Anyway she said she loved you, but took Joseph for her lover in less than a week after declaring for you. And leaving you there. I realized she was selfish and cold a long time ago. Just never knew why you didn’t see it. You are a good judge of character, usually.

Remy thought about Sinister and only snorted. Yeah, real good…

“Remy never knew you came back for him.”

“Well… no one knew.” Not even Hank, he mused privately and couldn’t stop the sudden feeling of despair. Just when has it all gone so wrong? He was slowly loosing his friends and couldn’t do anything to stop it. What hurt the most was the knowledge that it wasn’t Hank’s fault. It was only his.

“So? Are you still mad?” He managed to put on his best puppy look in attempt to loosen the atmosphere a bit.

Remy truly smiled this time. Then beamed at the blond man.

“After all, dis ol’ thief can’t be mad at somebody that brings him food, can he?”

“No, you can’t.”

Bobby touched his arm to force him to look at him again.

“It’s good to have you back Remy. I missed you.”

Remy felt burning in his eyes, but blinked the tears away.

“It’s good to be back.” He said and, for the first time, really meant it.

“I should go. You look bad. You should get some sleep, but don’t forget to eat first!”

“Oui, pappa. But before you go, tell Remy what eats on you?”

At first Bobby wanted to lie, but realized that if he wanted Remy to trust him, he would have to trust him too.

“Just… I told you I am in love with somebody and… that person… doesn’t see me that way. Normally I am OK with it. I mean… I had a lot of time to get used to it, but sometimes it’s just harder to pretend than other times. And lately I realized that this person did something I don’t approve of. I think I am losing the friendship, you know? Till now I couldn’t have a lover, but had a friend. Now however…” He sighed and looked away. His icy blue eyes betraying the depth of his feelings.

“It hurts. Hurts all the time. I never thought that love should be such a painful thing, you know? Always believed that it should give you joy not despair.”

Suddenly, Robert Drake aka Iceman, looked a lot more than his twenty-six years.

“Remy knows what you mean, really knows…” He though about Jean-Luc, the father that he had to leave behind, about Belladonna his wife, that he could never know, friends and family that were lost forever. Yes. He knew everything about loss.

“There is nothing that can be done. It has just been eating at me for so long.”

Remy knew about whom Bobby was talking, Hank McCoy.

“It’s Hank, isn’t it?” He asked softly.

Bobby tensed for a moment, but realizing Remy wasn’t judging him, just making sure, relaxed.

“Is it so obvious?”

“ Non. Not at all. Remy have only now figured it out. You said “after all dis time”… for how long have you known…”

“That I was in love with Hank?”  Finished Bobby.

“Oui. When did you realize it?”

Bobby smiled a small, infinitely sad smile and looked away, but not seeing anything. Right now he was very, very far away.

“When I was eighteen.”

“Eight years…”Remy said slowly. It was a long time. No crush could survive so long. He knew enough marriages that fell apart in much shorter time.

“I… I should go now.” Bobby stood up abruptly. Remy pretended not to notice the single tear on his new friend’s cheek. It was clearly a very painful subject for Bobby, and Remy didn’t want to push it.

His empathy told him enough. It was a true, desperate love that nearly squeezed tears from his own eyes.

“Maybe we could go get a beer sometime?” Asked Bobby heading to the door.

“Oui, that would be nice.”

He carefully shut the door and locked it this time. He had a lot to think about. And a phone call to make.
 

End of part 2

Sequel in part 3