X-Men Fan Fiction ❯ Origins ❯ Chapter 17 ( Chapter 17 )

See notes, disclaimers, and warnings in first chapter

Warnings #2: I don't know Japanese though it's on my list of things to try and do before I die. My apologies to people of those areas if I butchered the language in this fic. The words used and my understanding of their meanings come from my obsession with the Weiss Kreuz, Gundam Wing, and Saiyuki fandoms as well as all the yaoi mangas I've recently devoted a majority of free time to *grin*.

Words between / / are thoughts or mental speak
Words between * * are flashbacks or emphasis
Words between ~ ~ are lyrics to any songs that may be used in the fic

CH 17

*flashback*

“C’mere chile. Y’ ol’ Tante ain’t gonna hurt y’ none.” She smiled gently down at the shaking young boy backed tightly into the corner of the kitchen. His body trembled in fear, but his eyes shown with defiance; his thin lips pressed together in a determined attempt to make himself look as fierce as possible to anyone that might settle eyes on him. The fading sunlight of the evening sky allowed only scant visibility as it filtered through the sheer veil of fabric covering the window, highlighting the floating pieces of dust that drifted into its path as it made a pattern of stripes against the little body. Her smile was sad as she looked upon the scene, the hazy orange glow contrasting with the dark bands of shadow made him look like some ethereal creature in a gilded cage. The sting of tears threatened her and she blinked rapidly to keep them from flowing. The boy needed their love, not their pity. “Ain’t y’ hongry chile?”

Promises of food had been made to him before. He wasn’t about to fall for the same trick again. Simply staring with anger and hatred at the woman before him, he pushed impossibly further back into the unforgiving walls behind him. Why had he tried to pick that man’s pocket? And then, like a fool, he tried to fight the man – kicking, biting, anything to get the monster to release him as he was dragged down the street. There was nothing good that could be waiting for him wherever the man was forcing him to go. But, he was too weak and his struggles wore him to the point of fainting. It was a stupid betrayal of his body to succumb to such a weakness, and he remembered actually smiling at the thought that he would finally find an end to his miserable life. Only an end didn’t come. He woke up hours later, bathed and dressed in clean clothes with no aches or pains to indicate anything taking place while he had been unconscious. He had made his way cautiously through the unfamiliar house, looking for an escape route. But all the doors were locked; the windows sealed. If he thought for one moment that it wouldn’t draw attention to him, he would have picked up something to fling through one of the glass panes. The clank of pots and pans drew him towards a room at the back of the house and he made his way there, only to be confronted by a large, black woman with a nest of dred-locks hanging on both sides of her head, an apron wrapped around her bulky frame and a wooden spoon in hand.

She realized she was getting nowhere with the wary little boy and decided on a different tactic. Turning away from him so that her larger form didn’t loom in a threatening manner, she headed back towards the stove, dipping the wooden spoon into one of the larger pots and stirring. “I’m sure glad y’ came on in here ta help me. It so hard to cook for a bunch a grown men and I’se only got dese here two hands.” She pulled the spoon out, some muddy red colored liquid dripping from the ends as she held both hands out for dramatic effect, her gleaming smile again in place. The tension in his body eased some when he saw the woman stepping away from him. She wanted him to help her? To cook? He didn’t really know how to do that, and started to step forward as she turned back towards the stove humming in her work. Curiosity was winning against fear as he watched her move about the kitchen, seemingly content with her chores and completely unbothered by him. “De secret to any good sauce is de base. And if y’ gonna cook a Cajun dish, y’ gotta have a good rue.”

Completely at ease now, he didn’t notice how close he had approached her until she suddenly turned, startling him. She ignored the flinch and held a pot out to him, waiting patiently for him to grasp it in his little hands. After a few tense moments, he peaked up through his bangs and tentatively reached out to take the pot from her hands, making sure to position his own fingers such that he was far enough away from her own that he could escape if necessary. “Now padnat, take dis here pot on over to de sink and fill it up wit’ some water.”

They spent the morning working together, and Remy relaxed more and more as the hours wore on. She managed to drag a laugh or two out of the little boy, noting how his voice eased over her like sweet molasses. Remy took as many opportunities as he could to watch the older woman, each passing moment causing his stares to turn from wary to admiration and finally to love. It wasn’t something he understood, just a feeling deep down inside that she was a wonderful person. She was warm and tender, the mother he had never known and as the morning wore on, he gradually allowed her touch, and ultimately even allowed hugs; hugging back in time.

When the meals were finally finished, all that was left was the clean up. They stood side by side at the double-sink, one part filled with warm soapy water, the other filled with cool and clear rinsing water. He smiled up at her with such love that her heart clenched in joy. Chuckling, she reached out one sudsy finger and flicked the end of his nose.

“Now make sure y’ get dose pots spotless….”

*end flashback*

“…pots spotless.”

Glazed eyes that had been stuck in the past slowly focused onto the present.

“Remy?”

Remy came back to himself standing at the sink and staring down at the pot in his hand. The water was running continuously, rinsing away the suds as he methodically rubbed the metal over and over. He lowered it to the bottom and grasped the edges of the sink, sighing as he struggled to pull himself from the memory. That was so long ago, almost a lifetime. He turned his head to glance over at the beautiful, white-haired mutant standing in the doorway of the kitchen. “M’sorry, chere. Didn’t hear ya.”

She smiled warmly at him before pointing at the sink. “I said it looks like you’ve washed those pots spotless.”

He blinked, glanced briefly at the sink, then turned back to the weather goddess and smirked. “Weh, dat’s de way ol’ Tante say….” He stopped, realizing what he was saying, his accent sounding thick even to his own ears. Clearing his throat, he smiled again before continuing. “Uh…I mean, you know what dey say ‘bout cleanliness and all dat.”

Storm cocked her head in curiosity. In the time that the young man had been with them, she had never heard his accent so thick. “Tante?” she asked, having picked up on the name he mentioned before his pause.

Remy frowned and turned back towards the sink, picking up another pan to clean. “Just a lady Remy once knew.”

Recognizing the pointed end to a conversation, Ororo changed the subject. “So what have you been making all this time? It smells delicious!”

The smile was back in place when the Cajun turned towards her again. He moved towards some of the covered dishes, the steam escaping out from the edges of the lids, and gestured dramatically with both hands. “Dis, chere, be de best pasketti and meatballs you done ever eat.”

“Pa…what?”

It was Remy’s turn to look at her curiously. “Pasketti, chere. Ain’t you ever eat Italian dishes before?”

“Italian? You mean spaghetti?” At the nod she received, Storm laughed out loud, one hand coming up to cover her face. “Oh…oh my.” She chuckled, “Ok. Well, yes I’ve had ‘pasketti’ before.” She continued to giggle, causing the Cajun to smile along with her. “Remy, dear, I have to say I love your way with words.” She squeezed his arm, humorous mirth dancing in her eyes.

Storm hummed as the laughter died and she turned back towards all the food. “Looks like you prepared enough for everyone, and then some. Just so you know, you won’t have to cook for all the kids as well as the senior staff. The children have their own separate cafeteria in the main classroom building, another facility separate from the mansion. It comes complete with hired cooks! It’s the Professor’s way of giving us some respite from the hordes of hormones the faculty are bombarded with throughout the day.”

“So dere’s an…” Remy’s words were cut off by the sudden roar of engines just outside, the thunderous sound sending vibrations through the structure around them. Remy gritted his teeth at the shake that invaded his body and glanced over at Ororo, noting her look of irritation.

Once the noise settled down to a muffled whine of engines powering down, she huffed out a breath in exasperation. “Well I see someone wanted to let the whole neighborhood know they were home. Honestly, is it too much to ask for stealth mode as they park the blasted thing?” She sighed with an air of long sufferance. “Must be Jubilee getting in some practice.” Pausing mid complaint, she smirked and reached for Remy’s hand. “Well come on then. No better time than the present to meet the rest of the staff.” She turned on her heel and guided him out of the kitchen towards the main hallway, and down to the end where the elevator doors swooshed open with the push of a button.

Before the doors could close behind them, Logan stepped in, muttering his obvious disapproval. “Sounds like they’re home.” His hand casually skimmed over Remy’s as he turned his body in the direction of the door. Remy blinked at the contact. Was that an accidental brushing in the enclosed space, or was the older man flirting with him? It took every ounce of his will to remain completely still as the elevator moved, unable to determine if the butterfly feeling in the pit of his stomach was from the sudden descent of the car or from the heat of the man standing mere inches next to him.

“Hn” Ororo responded and stepped back to lean against the rear wall of the car, arms folded across her chest. Briefly closing her eyes as they descended, she opened them again in confusion as she felt the tension in the car rise considerably. It became a palpable thing that could practically be cut with a knife, yet it was not one of malice. One elegant brow arched as she surveyed the men in front of her. Each periodically glanced at the other, Remy with a look of nervous apprehension and something like hope, Logan with a contemplative air.

Before she could decipher the situation further, the doors slid open and they were moving as a unit down the hallway. To Remy’s surprise, they had gone even further into the sublevels than he realized; not recognizing anything around him from his earlier ‘visit' to the underground tunnels. His only conclusion was that this particular level was below the one where the doctor’s lab resided. As they reached the end of the hall, Logan keyed some number sequence into a locking mechanism on the wall. The doors opened to reveal a humungous underground hangar bay disappearing off into the half-light in two directions. Remy just stood and stared in wonder, his mouth agape at the immense construction.

Sensing his confusion, Logan spoke up. “Cool huh? This is our own little airport. We have several flying craft that we keep down here to transport us wherever we need to go. Most only carry a small crew and use that runway there…” he pointed off to the wide tunnel leading away from them to the right, Remy’s eyes following the long line of white lights that marked the path of the runway. “…to take off. At the end of that stretch is a drop-off, a sheer cliff leading down to that lake where we….” Further explanations were interrupted by a loud sucking sound from across the bay to the left, as pressure was equalized and the door to a magnificent piece of aeronautical engineering opened. “But this…this is my baby.” Logan said with pride as he gestured towards the modified Blackbird. The aircraft was beautiful as far as Remy was concerned; sleek in design and smooth in texture with skin as black as night. From the angle of the plane though, Remy couldn’t quite figure out how it arrived. There wasn’t enough room for it to turn, despite the size of the cavern, yet it faced in the direction of the cliff exit Logan pointed out earlier.

“How you get dis t’ing in here?” Remy questioned, his thief instincts telling him there was another entrance he had not yet discovered.

Logan smiled. “Well now, that’s a good question.” A gleam of amusement sparkled in his eye as he looked up at the boy. Slowly he turned his gaze towards the ceiling above the craft, Remy’s eyes following his. “That, Cajun, is the underside of the basketball court.” He pointed out. Remy squinted and could just make out the outlines of the entrance. He whistled in appreciation.

******

Cyclops exited the plane and immediately spotted the others, including an unexpected guest. Frowning, he made his way over to the trio and stepped directly in front of Remy. Without taking his eyes off the red orbs in front of him, he greeted his fellow team mates. “Logan, Ororo. I trust nothing went wrong while we were away. And you might be?” he added, not giving his fellow team mates time to answer.

Logan moved between the two, his instinct to protect the boy as he glared up at the team leader. “This is Remy. He’s been with us a little while and knows about some of our ‘side activities’. So cut him some slack.”

Logan’s left eye muscles twitched and his brow furrowed deeply as he fixed the commander with an aggressive look, causing Scott’s jaw to clench in reply. Remy looked between the two nervously. It wasn’t quite the welcome he had expected from the rest of team. They continued their glare-off for almost a minute until the voice of reason stepped up beside her husband. “Scott, dear, don’t be rude to our guest.” She smiled warmly at the auburn haired mutant and stuck out her hand. “My name’s Jean and this is my husband Scott. He really isn’t all that bad.”

“Hey!” Scott exclaimed, Jean’s words breaking his concentration.

“Enchanté, chere.” Remy replied smoothly as he grasped the hand and brought it to his mouth for a quick kiss on the knuckles. As pretty as she was, it was obvious to him from the bulge in her stomach that she was the pregnant friend Ororo had spoken of.

From behind, two more team members approached, bickering amongst themselves. One was a dark-haired woman of delicious proportions, carrying herself in a confident manner. Beside her was a tall, blonde mutant with beautiful white wings laying gracefully along his back. He looked like a supermodel in a magazine as far as Remy was concerned. As they drew closer, he could make out the tail end of their conversation as the woman barked in exasperation. “Look luv. That’s not the way it works, right? If some bloke walked up to me an’ said that, He’d get a right good seein’ too an’ have a bloody big headache by the time my blade was through with ‘im.”

Warren sighed and looked up at the group before him, casting only a cursory glance at the newcomer. He had been here long enough to no longer be surprised when a new face arrived. “Well Logan. I see the place is still standing. Tell me, will you regale us with tales of home improvement adventures you and Storm had while we were away eating caviar with the bigwigs?” he drawled in a bored tone.

Betsy elbowed him while Scott rolled his eyes behind his visor. From behind the group, Remy’s own eyes widened slightly at the approach of a large, blue-furred mammal. It was one thing to read the files of these X-men, it was quite another to see them in real life. “Really Worthington, your finesse with words never ceases to amaze me.”

Logan shrugged, ignoring the winged mutant in favor of the doctor. “Bird boy here’s under the impression that I give a damn.”

Warren sniffed. But before he could retort, three other figures exited the plane.

“LOGAN!!”

“WOLVIE!!”

Two high-pitched, feminine squeals assaulted the feral’s ears, causing him to uncharacteristically flinch. Remy chuckled as two young ladies plowed into the man, nearly knocking him over. Both were quite beautiful in their own way, one with red hair and a unique white stripe down one side, the other with jet black hair and the oddest pink sunshades atop her head.

“Alright stripes, short stuff, that’s enough.” Logan growled affectionately as he half-heartedly attempted to push the women away from him. Really, did they have to make such a scene in front of the new guy?

“We missed ya sugah.” Rogue smirked and then noticed the stranger standing slightly behind and to the side of the feral. “Who’s this?” she asked sweetly, surreptitiously letting her eyes roam the scrumptious form of the newcomer.

Remy stepped forward then, holding out his hand to the southern belle. “My name’s…”

“This is Remy LeBeau,” Logan interjected, addressing the whole group. He started pointing to the different team members and naming them off in introduction.

Warren’s full attention turned to the boy, startled momentarily by the piercing red orbs he had not noticed before. “LeBeau? So, are you French?”

“Non, I...”

“He’s from Cajun country, Louisiana.” Again Logan interrupted, his tone of voice tinged with enthusiasm , like a child showing off a new toy. Jean’s lips closed in on themselves as she stifled a giggle. It was nice to once again see this side of the man she once considered a potential mate, though she was surprised he was acting this way over another male.

Remy glanced at the feral, bemused and a little embarrassed, as he added to the statement. “Oui. N’awlins.”

Having walked up last behind Jubilee and Rogue, Bobby stuck his hand out to shake with the other. “Oh cool! I’ve never been there. If you ever go back to visit, I wouldn’t mind tagging along for a tour.” His smile faded at the flash of sadness that flittered across the other mutant’s face for a moment. But there was no chance to retract the statement or apologize for offense as his feathered friend immediately took charge of the conversation.

“New Orleans?” Warren questioned, still searching his exotic features. Something about those eyes was familiar, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Forehead creasing in thought as he tried to place the face, he asked “Have we met before? You seem awfully familiar to me.”

Remy inwardly cringed. Did Worthington recognize him somehow? Perhaps the man knew his adopted father, or knew of the guild? If that was the case, there might be trouble since one of his first assignments in training to be a guild member was to hack into the bank accounts of prominent figures. Surely the billionaire didn’t miss the several hundred thousands of dollars that were unknowingly contributed to various animal and children welfare groups from an obscure offshore account. The playboy was too rich for words and definitely could afford it; arrogant bastard that he was. “Non. T’ink I’d remember someone wit’ wings.” Remy grinned disarmingly, clamping tight on his shields and charm power in the presence of two telepaths. If they sensed something, they didn’t act as though anything were different.

Betsy smiled back, but her curiosity was piqued. Not only did her lover seem to recognize this new, admittedly fetching face in front of her, but she couldn’t get any sort of read on him at all. It was as if he wasn’t there; his thoughts like a black void. /Interesting./ She mused.

“Right, well if we are done with introductions, I think the kitchen is calling your name love.” Scott turned to his pregnant wife and reached down to grasp her hand, gently tugging her behind him as he headed away from the group towards the elevator leading to the living quarters above. “Remember, you are eating for three.”

Playfully swatting his arm, Jean let herself be dragged away. “I’m not an invalid.” she sighed, leading everyone to believe this was a rather old and worn argument between the two.

Rogue took that as her cue to latch onto the Cajun’s arm, as she proceeded to ask him more questions. “A fellow southerner, eh? That’ll be great. Now maybe we can have a little spice in our meals. The others round here just like it bland.” She made a face of disgust, sticking out her tongue and squinting her eyes for emphasis as she shuddered. “So, can ya cook any Cajun dishes, sugah?”

Logan watched the group as they walked away, his eyes tracking the young man as Rogue tugged him along. Jubilee was smirking, a knowing look in her eye and the gum popping in her mouth as she chewed it with gusto, watching the older mutant stare longingly after tall, dark and gorgeous. She waited until the others were out of earshot before she addressed the man. “Kuso Wolvie, hentai much?”

Logan scowled at her. “Shaddap! Who the hell taught ya to cuss in Japanese anyway?”

An amused grin split her face. “Well duh, Wolvie. You did. Besides, you forget what a manga freak I am? Besides you, that pretty bishonen that just walked outta here are a yaoi fangirl’s wet dream.”

Feeling slightly embarrassed and defensive that his attraction to the Cajun was that obvious – even to a teenage girl - he gritted his teeth and growled, the words coming from his throat like a bark. “Yer not too old to throw over my knee girlie. When’d ya get such a mouth? Think ya need to have it washed out with soap.”

The grin left her face as her eyes widened at the threat momentarily before remembering exactly who she was dealing with. Rolling her eyes in an exaggerated motion, she blew a big bubble with the wad in her mouth before answering. “Whatever.” She turned her back to him and started heading towards the elevator. “Gonna go get my grub on. Toodles.” Two fingers came together and pointed away from her sharply with a quick flick of the wrist in a mock salute as she waved him goodbye.

Logan simply stared at her retreating form for a minute. Finally, he snorted and turned to head after the others, muttering all the way. “Damn kids.”

********

The dinner had been a stressful affair. Questions bombarded him from all sides and he was hard pressed to answer some of them, needing to outright lie in some cases, while maintaining his shields in the face of all the telepaths at the table. It was overwhelming to say the least, his steadily growing powers making the task difficult and strained. He had felt the probe of the British beauty, managing to keep her out with little effort. Thankfully, he knew from recent experience that the Professor was not one to force his way into someone’s mind needlessly, even after the first incident when Remy lost control and began to charge the Danger Room. It appeared that the pregnant pupil, who followed closely in the path of her mentor, was abiding by that same principle. Despite the relief he felt of that piece of knowledge, it was still a daunting struggle to rein in the power. Again, he considered the wisdom of his master’s decision to remove the blocks and had to stifle a shudder.

The suspicious and seemingly hostile attitude of the playboy hadn’t made the situation any easier. Remy was more than a little nervous with some of the personal questions the man was asking him. It was like the winged mutant was trying to piece together a puzzle of some sort, though Remy was hard-pressed to understand. He didn’t recall once ever meeting the man, and only knew of the billionaire by reputation.

Various comments on the meal ranged from elated to hesitantly respectful in a critical way. The highly cultured Worthington and his dark-haired beauty sniffed in disinterest the most, accustomed as they were to more refined delicacies. Rogue simply put them both in their place when she piped up in defense. “Oh don’t get y’alls panties in a wad. I like a little twang in my sauce.” Remy had to chuckle at that. Logan too was quick to leap to his defense, cutting off questions with a scowl, barking for people to mind their own damn business.

In the end, Remy made his escape to the back porch, lighting up a cigarette and drawing a much needed hit into his lungs to calm his frayed nerves. Periodically, he could hear voices raised in merriment or argument inside, the clanking of dishes being cleared and cleaned from the table. Feelings of déjà vu fell over him as the sounds brought back memories of another time when family gathered for the evening meal. This assignment was stirring up too many feelings in him; feelings that he wanted to grab onto and never let go, feelings he wanted to escape. So he tuned out the sounds and concentrated on his goal. He would need to integrate completely with this group if he stood a snowflake’s chance in hell of getting those files that the boss wanted so badly, a task easier said than done if he couldn’t learn to separate work from his personal desires.

He was half-way through the stick when he sensed another body just behind him. The one that Logan had introduced as Cyclops came to stand beside his chair, staring out at the open expanse of yard beyond the porch. “You know, that really is a bad habit.” He didn’t turn to look at Remy, and the Cajun in return watched the trees in the distance sway with the gentle cool breeze. The days were getting shorter as the autumn season slowly rolled into winter.

Remy flicked the ash from the end of his cigarette as he snuggled into his coat, one arm wrapped around his waist and his crossed ankles resting comfortably on the railing. “Maybe. Mas, it don’ affect me none. My powers burn up de bad stuff soon as I suck it in.”

A soft snort met Remy’s ears as he watched the team leader lean forward on the railing from the corner of his eye. “Well isn’t that a handy talent.”

Remy frowned. Was he being insulted? Shrugging, he responded casually. “Could be worse. Guess it better dan always having to wear special glasses so’s nuttin’ I look at gets sliced in two.”

It was Scott’s turn to frown, feeling not only the verbal slap from the Cajun but a mental one from his wife as well. He sighed, irritated at himself for starting off on the wrong foot with the newcomer.

Hearing the sigh, Remy rubbed his temple. The response he’d given wasn’t exactly the best way to make his way into the man’s good graces. “Sorry, homme.”

“No, I’m the one that should apologize.” Turning his back to the railing, he leaned on it as a makeshift chair, finally facing the young mutant sitting beside him. “Let’s try again, ok?”

Briefly glancing at the other mutant and giving his body the once over, Remy couldn’t help but admire the figure beside him. All of the X-men thus far had proven to be quite the desirable examples of human flesh and physique. It was no wonder that the boss and his master were so interested in their genetic makeup. Inhaling another lungful of soothing nicotine, he held it for a moment before laying back against the headrest of his chair and releasing the smoke into the crisp fresh air. “Sounds bon.”

“Why did you come here?’

Blunt, to the point, and expected. Remy scratched the bridge of his nose with the hand holding the cigarette before answering. “Need to learn how to control my powers. It’s as simple as dat.”

“Really? I wonder if anything is ever as simple as that.” But he didn’t elaborate. They kept each other’s company in silence for a while, neither making an effort to communicate any more than was necessary. Finally Scott straightened and prepared to make his way back into the house. “Logan says you are aware of our special interests and desires. You wish to be a part of that?”

“Oui.”

Scott proceeded towards the door, but paused with his hand on the knob, his voice commanding. “You’ll start training with the team immediately then. Once I feel you’re ready, you can come out on missions with us. If I don’t feel you’re working out, you’ll be off the team and I’ll have one of the telepaths block your memories of our activities prior to releasing you from this school. Understood?”

Remy turned to him with a sardonic grin. “Sounds peachy. Can’t wait.” With that, the team leader disappeared into the house, leaving Remy to turn his disturbed gaze back towards the distant woods. “Just peachy.” He muttered to himself.

End ch 17

********

Translations:

kuso = damn
hentai = pervert, perverted
bishonen = pretty boy
bon = good ********* on to part 18

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