X-Men Fan Fiction ❯ Origins ❯ Ch 8 ( Chapter 8 )

See disclaimers, notes and warnings in ch 1

 

Words between / / are thoughts or mental speak

Words between * * are flashbacks

Words between ~ ~ are lyrics to any songs that may be used in the fic

 

CH 8

“Dem's high stakes for such a simple game, mon ami.”

Logan raised a brow.  “Dem's de shakes Cajun.”  he replied mockingly.

The adventurer within clamored for the challenge, while the rational part of Remy's mind screamed to run away.  He had played these stakes once too often and lost, both physically and mentally, too many times before.  But, the feral's persistence piqued his curiosity and he felt drawn to the card table.  Quietly sitting down opposite the feral, he accepted the challenge, but with one condition.

“Only one question per winning hand.”

“Fine.” Was all the reply he was given.  Logan had already shuffled the cards.  “Straight poker, nothing wild, jokers out.”  He ordered, not looking up as he dealt the first round.

The first hand was nothing extraordinary.  Remy discarded three cards hoping for something better.  In the end, he had a pair of kings.  But it wasn't enough to beat Logan's two pair.

“Guess the first round goes to me.”  Logan smirked, collecting up the cards.  He looked thoughtful for a moment, fixing his eyes over Remy's shoulder on the book case beyond.  Remy felt suddenly awkward.  “Tell me about ya family.”

Remy frowned.  Maybe playing this game with Logan wasn't such a good idea after all.  He would have to be shrewd and make sure to find a way to skirt the answers whilst following the rules.  A grin spread across Remy's delicate features.  “Dat ain't a question, homme.”

Logan blinked at the quick retort.  /The boy's sharp…So, it's gonna be like that, huh/  “Ok, ya got any kinfolk back in Louisiana?”

“Non”  Remy admitted easily.  He could tell Logan was fishing for something, that perhaps the man knew of the LeBeau family of the New Orleans Thieves Guild.  But, there were quite a few families with that particular last name; not all of them necessarily related to the former leading clan of the guild.  Besides, to Remy, kinfolk meant blood relations.  And as far as Remy knew, he had no known biological family.

Logan focused all his senses on the boy, seeking out any untruths.  Either the kid had more control over his internal reactions than most, or he was being honest.  The only way Logan would know for sure would be to catch him in a lie.  Assuming his luck held out, he would spring something on the younger man in a few rounds.

The next hand went to Remy, who decided to ask the same question of Logan, though he was careful to change the word kinfolk to family.  “I don't really know.”  Logan said truthfully.  He decided that if he wanted the boy to be honest, he would have to be as well.  “I don't really have any memories of growing up.  And some of the memories I do have ain't real.”

Remy stared at the feral a little bemused by his answer /not real, hmm/, but the feelings of sincerity issuing from the big man planted a seed of compassion firmly in his conscious.  Quickly he shoved it to the back of his mind, determined to keep his focus.

Cards flew back and forth between the dealer and the player.  Remy won another round and asked Logan how long he had been at the mansion.  “Several years now.  Came here a different person than I am now.  They….helped me gain control over myself, helped me see there was something better out there to live for.”

Remy thought about that statement.  It seemed to contradict yet again everything he had been told about this place.  He was beginning to wonder if, in fact, he had been told the truth about anything these people were involved in.  The thought didn't sit well with him.  While he had no problem fulfilling a mission against monsters equal in deeds to his boss, he agonized over possibly destroying innocents.  The deck being slapped down in front of him brought him from his thoughts. 

Another round went to Remy and the boy glanced up at the feral through the spill of auburn bangs covering his face.  “What be your power, mon ami?”  Remy thought he already knew this, but wanted the older man to confirm it. 

Logan picked up the deck and shuffled again as he shrugged.  “Well, one of `em is a healing factor.”

Remy's brows shot up to his hairline.  It was not the answer he expected from the feral.  “You have more dan one?  Dieu, how many you have anyway?”

Logan grinned as he started dealing the cards.  “That's more than one question, Gumbo.  Gonna hafta win another hand `fore I can answer that.”  He almost laughed at the scowl the younger man attempted to hide.  /Turn about's fair play kid./

Remy made a face at the new nickname, but said nothing.  He got into the spirit of the stakes, brain thinking feverishly ahead to questions he wanted to ask.  He was so caught up that he lost focus on his current hand and wound up with nothing, allowing Logan to win another question.  “Why are ya so afraid of the medlab, kid?”

He watched as the boy chewed his bottom lip for a moment before sighing.  “Told you before, homme, had some bad experiences with doctors and labs.”  Logan was disappointed.  He knew he was potentially wasting a question, but he hoped the younger man would share a little more detail.  Sensing this, Remy sighed again.  “Look, Remy don't like to talk `bout it `cause it cause nightmares.  Mas, believe Remy when he say bad t'ings done happened to dis poor boy in de name of science.”

Logan didn't need any more explanation, having experienced some of it himself.  He also didn't miss the switch to third person in the boy's speech.  Whatever had been done to the kid had been bad enough to cause a disassociate pattern.  Dropping the subject, they moved to the next round.

The next two hands went to Remy.  If Logan hadn't been dealing the cards himself, he would have sworn the kid was cheating.

“Now, what be all your powers homme?”

Logan sat back and pulled out a cigar from his shirt pocket.  “Well, I have enhanced senses.  Ya know - hearing, sight, that kinda of thing.  Comes with my feral nature.  Also stronger than most.  The third power ain't a natural mutation though.”  He brought the cigar in front of him, holding it by fingertips on one end.  “The other…well, let's just say it's man-made.”  Logan brought up his other hand and fisted it, popping out a single adamantium claw which he used to cut off the end of the cigar. 

Remy instinctively jumped back in his chair as the cards in his hand lit up with energy. “Merde!” His eyes grew as wide as saucers, the red glowing slightly in awe of the sight.  Logan had expected to smell fear, but as the boy regained his composure and leaned forward to inspect the blade Logan was surprised by the feelings of interest and curiosity radiating from him.

A grin made its way onto Remy's face as he locked eyes with the feral.  “Dieu, bet dat come in handy, non?” Remy asked, gingerly reaching out a finger to touch the razor-sharp claw.

“Can be.” Logan replied, suddenly re-sheathing the claw before the boy had a chance to make contact, causing the poor Cajun to jump again.  Logan grinned inwardly.

When the next hand was won, Remy asked about the powers of the other members of the team.  Logan was cautious in what he told him, giving only an overview of some of the adults' powers.  He explained about Storm's abilities to control the elements, as well as Jean's power of telepathy and telekinesis.  He shared several other members' powers before he decided it was enough.  “The rest of `em you'll just have to discover on your own.”

Remy accepted that and the game was on again.  Finally, Logan had a winning hand.  “Earlier ya said ya had no family.  Ya gotta have come from somewhere. Who raised ya?” 

Remy swallowed hard at the question.  What should he tell him?  He put his cards down slowly and turned to look at the fireplace as he thought about how to answer.  “Don't have any blood family.  Remy grew up on de streets.  Don't know how it happen.”  Remy laughed bitterly.  “Heh, don't even know how old I am.”  He could feel water forming in his eyes and he stubbornly blinked it back.  It was the past and there was nothing he could do to change it.  “Was taken in by de LeBeau family when I was somet'ing like t'irteen.  Dey say I was `bout dat old anyway.”  A slight curving of his lips upward at the memory, he turned back to look at the older man.  “Gave `em hell in de beginning.  Mas, dey put up with it.  Dey was good people.”

Logan tilted his head and frowned as he thought about the boy growing up on the streets.  He had been around a long time and was no fool.  A child in that type of environment would….“So what happened to 'em?” 

The younger man smirked as he repeated what the feral had said earlier.  “Dat be more dan one question, homme.”  It was enough to lighten the moment and Logan chuckled.  “Alright, Cajun.  Another round.”

A clock in the hallway chimed to announce the hour.  At least two chimes had passed since they began the game, the beers they consumed long since gone.  The cards were dealt and again Logan won.  “Why are ya really here, Remy?”

He knew that some of the questions would be tough, the stakes high.  But, he truly did not expect it.  It smacked of accusation and distrust, causing him to anger instantly at possibly being discovered.  “Told ya before.  Here to learn how to control my powers.”

“That ain't a good enough answer.  Ya seem to have pretty good control to me.”  Logan challenged.

Remy flinched.  He opened his mouth, then shut it again before deflating into his chair.  There was no way he could tell this man that he was on a mission for Magneto to steal from them.  So, he decided to use the reason he first sought help.  “Dere was an accident in N'Awlins.  Lost control of my powers and a lot of people got killed.”  He looked up to face the older man.  “Including my brother.  My pere….he don't want me `round no more.  It hurts too much for him.  My fault….all my fault.” 

The overwhelming sadness rolling off the boy was enough for Logan to believe he was telling the truth.  “I'm sorry kid.”

Red eyes glowed brightly as supple young lips pressed tightly together in a grim line.  “Don't need your pity, homme.  Just deal de damn cards.”

Chewing on the end of his cigar, Logan did just that.  “Full house, mon ami.  Kings over Queens.  Guess de next question's mine.”

Logan blew out a plume of smoke.  “Not so fast, bub.”  He laid his hand down to reveal a royal straight flush. 

Remy could only blink at that before flinging his own hand down.  “Merde.  Look like Lady Luck with you tonight.”       

The older man grinned as he collected the cards.  “Looks that way.  Alright Cajun, what are all your powers?”

The Acadian stared blankly at the feral.  “You already seen my powers, homme.  Can charge any non-living t'ing and see better dan most in de dark.”

And there was the lie that Logan had waited for.  “Ya sure `bout that?  Seems to me ya haven't shown `em all.”

Remy's heart started racing as he breathing picked up.  There was no way the feral missed his body's betrayal.  “I t'ink I'm done for de night.  Been fun playing mon ami, mas I'm a bit tired.” 

Remy made to stand when Logan reached out and grabbed his wrist.  The contact made the boy gasp as the warm tingle started flowing through him again.  He closed his eyes at the feelings that were building; the lust and excitement flowed off the man holding him captive.  Licking lips that had suddenly gone dry, Logan could only stare at the point where skin touched skin. 

“What happened in the kitchen Remy?” Logan growled.

“Je ne sais pas” he whispered as a hot shiver made its way through his body.  Swallowing hard, he tried to take control of himself wrenching his arm away from the tight feral grip.  Turning to face the older man, Remy stepped backwards just beyond reach, as he answered.  “Maybe de metal inside you react with my electrics?” He tried to smile casually but the clamminess growing on the back of his neck made him feel awkward and uncomfortable.  “Probably be best if we don't make contact again, hehn?”  Spinning on his heels, he made his escape from the room, his heart clenching at the thought that he could never allow himself to  touch the feral again.  The delicious tingle was already sorely missed.

Logan sighed and leaned back in his chair puffing on the last of the cigar as the door closed behind the boy.  “Yeh, that may be for the best.” He murmured to the empty chair opposite, though he was fairly sure he didn't mean it.  

End ch 8

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