It has been a month. Long 31 days. Scott was relesed from hospital
and was now nursed by a loving wife and Logan was in his trashed
apartment trying to smell the Cajuns scent.

Remy was most likely dead. He had no chances of surviving. The
building was in fire for two days. Only after 8 hours the fireman
menaged to extinguish it completly. The amout of the bodies that were
find inside was frightening. Almost twenty five people. All the
corpses has been torched so indentification was nearly impossible.

Logan entered the bedroom and sat on the bed. The sheets still
smelled like him.

The first few days he was tying to understand why Remy did such a
thing? Why did he sacrifice his own life? And the feelings he saw in
his eyes befor the door closed… was there something deeper? Love?

He groaned and covered his face with his arm. It was no use in
tormenting himself like this. He could not bring the kid back.
Nothing could.

Before he knew he fell asleep. A lumber with dark, hounting images
hat lt him more exhausted than befor. He hardly slept thole last
weeks. Day and night the only thing he was able to think of was the
beautiful Cajun thief. He kept wondering what would happen if he was
more… forgiving? Less feral? H eshould have seen he truth when the
thief came here to help him find Scott. But he was too caught up in
his own pain to see anything. Maybe if he noiced that desperate wish
to pay for his sins, maybe he would be able to save his life?

The thing that woke him from his shallow sleep was soft knocking on
the door. The unfamiliar scent surprised him. Whoever was there
smelled like… ice?

Curious he opened the door only to see a young man, blonde, athletic,
not to tall. He was definitely a mutant. Logan nose was never wrong.
And he was nervous.

- Yeah?

- Um… Mr. Logan?

- Yes, who are you?

- My name is Robert Drake.

- So? – Asked Logan grufly.

- I have something for you.

- What?

The blonde man reached into his pocket and took out three discs. Two
of which looked painfully familiar.

Logan grabbed the kid by the collar and draged him through the door,
slamming him into the wall.

- What this is all about? Who are you? Where did you go these? – His
face turned into menacing snarl.

- Remy told me to give it back to you.

Logan let him go at once.

- Remy? Is he alive? Where…

- He gave them to me a month ago and told to wait three weeks before
I turn them back. The third one contains a lot of data on Essex. Remy
gathered the info personally. This stuff will allow you to put that
bastard away for a lifetime imprisonment.

- Who are you? – Asked Logan once again.

- A friend of Remy. It was me who disabled the security system when
you saved Scott Summers.

- Do you know where he is?

Suddenly the young man turned his gaze away. Logan knew he was hiding
something.

- I am not sure I should be telling you this. After all it was
because of you that Remy went on that suicide mission. I knew there
was no way out of that fucking headquarter. But he wanted to erase
his guilt so desperately… I should have known. – He sighed. Then his
eyes turned to ice and his voice had na edge of anger to it.

- It was your fault! You never gave him a chance.

Logan wanted to growl, snapp at the kid but couldn''t. After all he
was telling the truth.

- I… he bertayed my trust. Worked for Essex. He…

- He wanted to find his sister!

- What?!

- You never even asked him, did you? – Shauted Drake. – When he came
here to hel you, you never even considered forgiving him… He worked
for Essex because that bastard found his kid sister, that Remy lost
years ago, and demanded those fucking discs in exchange for her
adress. Remy has no family, only her.

Logan felt a sickening feeling of guilt inside his chest and tried to
swallow around a lump in his throat.

- You said "has". Does ut mean Remy is alive?

- I am not sure you can call it that, but… yeah. He is alive.

- Where can I find him?

* * *

H ecouldn't breath, he couldn't speak.

The only thing Logan could do was stare at the fragile figure on the
hospital bed wired to so many mashiened that it was hard to even see
the outline of the body. The sickness. The pain. The hurt he smelled
comming off of what used to be Remy made him sick. His face was
bruised, his chest cut by knife or claws… the doctors couldn't
decide. The skin on his wrists completly torn away leaving only raw
flesh. The bruises and other small wounds covere every inch of his
body. Long hair lost it's shine and spille dover the white pillow
lifelessly just like the rest of him.

He looked so young. So fragile and vulnerable… so dead.

- What… - Croaked Logan, unable to speak more.

Drake, standing beside him was also quiet. He however had time to get
ued to the sight of his friend. It hurted him, but he knew what to
expect when he entered the room.

Hi however didn't warn Logan. He let him enter unprepared. He wanted
to hurt him, cause him pain because he knew, Remyd id it only for
Logan. Silently he watched the Canadian going pale and the sheer
terror in his face.

- He was found four days ago. There are no life threatening injuries
any more. His body heals fine. But the problem is him mind.

Logan looked at him questioningly.

Bobby went over to the bed and pulled the thind gaze away to reveal
opened red on black eyes. Eyes that didn't react to the touch, nor
presense at all.

- Remy… - Called Logan brokenly, still expecting the thief to look at
him, react. But there was nothing.

- What… what happened?

Drake looked at him, took in the pain and after a painstakingly long
moment he answered.

- Remy is… was… and empath. Essex is a telepath. He tortured him from
both physical and psyhical sides. Dr. Xavier, one of the most
powerfull telepaths, said that there is nothing he can do. Remys
mind… was overloaded with pain and sufering. Essex kept abusing him
till he broke and finally stopped reacting to everything aound him.
When he lost the ability to eel pain, Essex got rid of him.

Logan came closer and looked into the lifeless eyes that used to
seduce him. He remembered the way Remy got him into bed. Using not
words but touches, scents and sights. He understood him so well… If
only he gave the kid a chance to explain!

- The doctors say that… there are no chances of him coming back. Ever.

- Remy… oh god… Remy… - Logan reached out a shaking hand and tried to
touch Remys hand but the amout of IV and other tubes made it almost
impossible. Finally he settled for the cheek.

Only his fingertips touched the cold skin. He shivered remembering
that this skin used to be so warm, hot even…

When they made love that only time, Remys face was flushed and eyes
burning with lust and need that was real. Only now, when his rage had
died he remembered the scents that were real. Noone cpuld fool his
nose. The lust he smelledon the kid was always true. The tenderness
and trust also.

He remembered the way the kid gave his body to him. With complete and
utter trust. He made that experience the most erotic memory he had.
Now he was lying in that hospital bed without even a tiniest spark of
life in him.

Logan tenderly pushed the diry hair from his face, so focused on the
thief that he didn't notice quickly blinking Bobby leaving the room.

- I'm sorry Dalin'. Oh, God I am so sorry…

He closed his eyes when memorie came crushing on him.

His apartment, that first night when he found the kid on his doorstep
and then watched him change his clothes.

Logan stood in the entrance to the bathroom and watched the Cajun. He
still hadn't figured out how the hell the kid got him to agree to him
staying here.

Gambit slowly unbuttoned his shirt and slowly took it off. He seemed
to not notice Logan observing him, but Logan knew better. He had
caught the change in the kid's breathing. Still, he watched the
muscles of those long arms rippling when he was undressing. Still the
kid proceeded to undress…

There was something almost hypnotizing in the thief taking off one
piece of clothing at a time.

He was beautifully built. His long slender, elegant body was
definitely eye-catching.

The Cajun washed his hands and then unbuttoned his Levi's. There was
a loud /slump/ when the wet material hit the floor. Remy was now
standing only in his briefs and started to slowly unwrap the bandage
from his left wrist. Never once did he take his glasses off.

"Why are you wearing glasses?"

Remy stilled, his head bent, completely focused on his wrist. Logan
KNEW he wouldn't get an answer. The kid was like an oyster – kept his
mouth shut. He refused to explain to Logan just exactly WHY was he
sleeping on his doorstep. He merely stared at him in silence,
smelling of fear, loneliness and despair.

Right now he wondered just how much of it was the truth? Maybe he
wasn't palying a game to seduce him? Maybe he was just showing his
real face?

Then heremembered his words, so cruel and cold.

Traitor!…I will never believe that you care about someone else than
yourself. After all you are nothing more than a whore to hire.

He recalled the way Remy hadn't defend himself. The way he lowered
his head as in accepting those blunt words.

Only once did he react to Logans comments. In Essex headqarter. When
Scot asked who was with him.

- Noone Scott, noone worth atention…

He SAW the way the kid backed a little, the pain on his face before
he regained his pose. The mask shifed a little showing how much those
words hurt him.

And that last image o him, the still live, like a motion movie… last
secons before the damned door shut.

Remy taking his glasses of.

Those red on black eyes filled with love he refused to see.

The single tear making it's way down and that sad desperation in his
face. The knowledge, the absolute certainty, that Logan would never
forgive him.

Logan sqeesed his eyes wishing things were different. If only…

But there was no chance of changing the past. His mistakes came bact
ti him, to haunt him.

He looked into that pale face and felt the hot wetness on his cheeks.
There was a time when he vowed he wouldnever cry. The first and the
last tiem was when Jean left him for Scott. He thought he loved her
with all his heart. Now he knew it was a lie. That feeling in
comparision to what he felt for the thief was nothing more than a
crush.

The soul deep ache that seemed to cut through his soul like a hot
knife made the beast inside him want to howl in pain. Tears run
freely down his face.

- Oh God, Remy…

And the tame broke. Feelings, memories… everything came rushing back
to him.

"Shh… cher, let Remy help… Let Remy take care of dis…" He whispered
softly while touching the burning, thick cock, with only his
fingertips

"traitor! …Whore to hire!"

"Noone…"

"… I am sorry I hurt you Logan. Never wanted it to happen."

The only time Remy spoke in first person.

Logan needed to touch remy so desperately. It seemed that all his
being, the very sense of existance, closed in this single desire. To
touch. To feel. To make sure that there was even a tiniest spark of
hope, life left in the body on the bed.

"…Traitor…"

"…Whore…"

"…Noone…"

"…Remy sorry…"

"…Kill you…"

" The doctors say that… there are no chances of him coming back.
Ever. "

"…are no chances…"

"…Ever…"

He gathered the lifeless body into his arms, seemingly not noticing
the IV's and tubes. He awkwardly pulled the upper body close to his
chest and supported the completly limp head.
He couln't take it any more. Logan threw his head backwards and
howled in pain, leting all the hurt and pain out, screaming his soul
away.

Because he loved the man lying so lifelessy in his arms. And it was
too late…

TBC