X-Men Fan Fiction ❯ Origins ❯ Chapter 27 ( Chapter 27 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Reviewer Response:

Whatwhatnow - thank you for your encouragement! I plan to continue and complete the story, as I also am disappointed when I read a story that is never finished even after years of waiting. If something happens and it looks like I won't be able to continue the story, at the least I will try to put up a summary of how it was supposed to end. Thank you again for sticking with the story *big smile*

Whoa! - *blush* Thank you so much. You made my whole month! I'm so glad to hear you have become addicted to the pairing, it is my absolute favorite in the X-men fandom! Welcome to Logan/Remy luv =)

See primary notes, disclaimers, and warnings in first chapter.

Notes #2:I'm pretty sure I've mentioned this before perhaps in another of my fics, but the idea of Remy being allergic to aspirin such that it acts like a tranquilizer is not mine. I've read it in severalX-men fics in the past, so I'm unsure whoinvented the idea. I'm also unsure if it's cannon or fannon (though I tend to think it's fannon). If anyone knows the original author who penned the idea first, please let me know so I might credit that person. Also, the views/opinions expressed by Remy regarding sheltersstrictly belong to the characterwithin the realms of this story, and do not necessarily reflecton community centers/shelters in real life. Thanks goes to BJ for reading over this chapterfor meto let me know ifit felt right within the confines of the story.

Ch 27

Magneto stood outside the closed door for a moment, staring at the metal plating.  On the other side, he knew what he would find and, for a moment, was conflicted.  Sometimes he felt there were two polar opposite personalities within him that constantly warred with each other.  It was almost laughable to think he might be schizophrenic, but it was truly one of the best ways to explain it.  There was a time, a distance memory perhaps, when he was a completely different person in both thought and action.  In his youth, he would never have imagined that his life would turn out the way it had.  But, wars and prejudice had changed him.  He could no longer afford to be the naïve fool of his misspent youth.  He wondered, though, when he became the type of person he generally loathed; the type that would use and abuse one of his own to obtain a sought after goal?  One part of his mind said it was wrong to hurt another of his ilk to achieve his objectives.  Yet, the dark side of his psyche railed against the moral complex being presented, demanding that the needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few, and that it was necessary to step on a few toes if the end result benefited the majority.  It was all about choices – who would succeed, and who would pay the price for that success.  But the irony of it all almost made him cackle with maniacal laughter.  In order to free his people from the mundanes who would play judge, jury and executioner, he himself had become those very things.

When had he changed so much?

He shook his head to clear his mind.  It was too late to have second thoughts on the matter.  What was done was done.  He had made a deal with the madman that owned the boy he had just allowed Creed to punish.  The time to seek redemption and forgiveness, to face the consequence of choices, would eventually come.  Ruthlessly, he shoved his moral complex to the furthest corners of his mind and let his darker side come forth. 

As he pushed the door open and stood at the threshold, Erik drank in the sight of the defeated figure across the room.  Remy sat back on his knees, the metal covered hands resting between his legs and his head bowed low such that locks of auburn colored hair hid his face from view.  The remnants of his pants started mid thigh and snaked around his legs in strips to end at exposed ankles.  Scratch marked hips and buttocks were completely exposed, but his modesty was preserved behind his arms.  The shirt the Cajun had worn was nothing but tattered cloth clinging over one shoulder by a thin thread and ripped along the other side to reveal a well sculpted, albeit battered and scored, chest and back.  The sleeves of the shirt were now nothing more than arm warmers that pooled around his wrist and forearms.  Erik had to suppress the moan that arose unbidden at the erotic sight of that beautiful body claimed and marked.  The creature before him was one of the very few that had ever stirred his blood to near frenzy with desire. 

Magneto moved to stand over the Cajun, breathing in the intoxicating smell of sex and blood with a smirk on his face.  “You look thoroughly debauched, my boy.”

Remy said nothing, not even raising his head to look at the man, and Magneto frowned.  He wasn’t sure what he had expected from the boy, but lack of acknowledgement to his presence was not it.  It angered Erik to feel dismissed by the young man at his feet.  Crouching so that he could be at eye level should the Cajun raise his head, Magneto reached out one gloved hand and grabbed the hair at the back of Remy’s head to force him to look up into the steel blue orbs of the master of magnetism.  “Understand this, if you fail me again, Creed won’t be the only one to partake of your flesh.  And your master is quite displeased with you.  As his servant, your actions reflect directly on him.  He has assured me that I may do with you as I will short of killing you if something like this happens again.” 

There was almost a perverse satisfaction at seeing the flare of anger in those crystal ruby eyes.  The urge to lean forward just another inch and capture the kiss bruised lips of the boy was overwhelming and Magneto recognized that some of his feelings were being manipulated by the unrestrained talents of the exhausted and hurting Cajun.  One deep breath, then another, until he was again in control, then Erik released the hold on Remy’s hair and moved his gaze to the metal block imprisoning the younger mutant’s hands.  The fingers of both hands spread over the metal, his concentration heavy as he forced the two pieces to separate once again and free the trapped boy.  When the metal pieces finally detached with an audible clink, flying apart as if being repelled by one another, Remy gasped and groaned in pain at the pinprick sensations of returning circulation to the previously numb digits.  Remy’s fingers were frozen in a clawed position.  The pain and effort to straighten his fingers showed on his face.  He quickly raised both arms to his chest, bending at the waist to cradle his hands in a fetal-like position as he worked through the agony.

Magneto’s eyes softened, chagrined for a moment at the damage his impromptu imprisonment idea had caused to the boy’s hands no matter how temporary.  Almost he reached to grasp and massage them to encourage the blood flow to return less painfully.  But that moment was fleeting as he reminded himself just why the young mutant had been punished.  Standing rapidly, Magneto sneered down at the Cajun for a moment before turning to head to his desk.  “You will return to the mansion, now, and complete your mission as quickly as possible.  I grow tired of the delays.” 

A drawer was opened in the bottom right side of the desk and Erik pulled a bundle from inside.  “Put on these clothes.  Do not bother to wash beforehand.  You will need them to believe your story to explain your late night.  The best way to come across as a whore is to look and smell like one.”  He threw the loose bundle, hitting the Cajun in the head such that Remy flinched at the contact.  As he made his way to the door, he paused when he finally heard the boy speak.

“Ain’t a who’e”  Remy whispered, his forehead still resting on his knee as he continued to cradle his hands to his chest.

Magneto regarded the young mutant for a moment.  “What you choose to believe is of no consequence.  It is only important what they believe.  And a lie is most convincingly hidden between two truths.”  Then, he was gone.

After a while, the feeling was fully returned to Remy’s hands and fingers; the pain simply another dull ache among many.  He stood slowly, categorizing all the wounds on his body as he manipulated unsteady legs into the oversized pants that Magneto had given him.  Looking down at the outfit he’d been given, he wrinkled his nose at the ill fitting garments.  “Not my style… seriously.”  But there was little he could do, having nothing else to wear. 

The late night ride back to the mansion was torturous.  The bumping vibrations of the motorcycle sent slivers of pain through his tormented body, reminding him continuously of the activities of the last few hours.  Several times, Remy wanted to pull over to the side of the road to rest.  It was only the realization that once he stopped he wouldn’t be able to continue that kept him from succumbing to that desire.  As he reached the long driveway leading to the mansion, he pondered what he might tell anyone that asked his whereabouts.  He had been gone since the previous afternoon he had spent with Logan.  If he was lucky, Remy mused, nobody missed him.  As much as it galled him,  however, he thought that Magneto was probably correct, and that he should let them assume what they wanted simply by his appearance. 

After parking the bike in the garage at the side of the main house, Remy decided to make his way around to the front door.  Going through the kitchen would attract more attention than he wanted if anyone was on a midnight pantry raid or if the Professor was in his office which shared a wall with one side of that room.  The last thing he expected as he walked through the front door at such a late hour was to see several team members in the den just to the side of the entrance hall.  It was rare for them to be up at this hour and gathered in such a way.  The room contained the winged mutant that had such animosity for him, as well as his British partner, Bobby and Logan.  At first his thoughts were to avoid the room and try to ghost by it towards the stairs.  But, Remy was moving too slow and awkward for that.  In the end, his choice was taken from him when he saw that Logan and Worthington both noticed him.  The looks on their faces were a study in contrast:  one welcoming and worried, the other full of contempt and disdain. 

Logan moved from where he had been standing in the corner to come closer to the boy as Remy maneuvered his reluctant body to the threshold of the room.  It was only a moment before all the members present turned to look at him, varying emotions coming from all and making his stomach churn.  Remy knew what he looked like, and from the reflections mirrored on their faces and in their projected feelings, knew what they were thinking about him at this moment.   

Though Logan’s mouth was working, as if he wanted to say something or ask a question, it was Bobby that spoke first.  “Hey, Remy!  Where’ve you been?  Logan’s been worried sick about you.”  Bobby ignored the glare the feral sent his way, his baby blue eyes widening slightly as he took in the disheveled state of his team mate.  “Are you alright?  You look…” he trailed off.

Before Remy could answer, Warren rose from his chair and approached the boy with barely concealed anger.  “Now I recognize you.  You’re a whore.  You used to sell your body to anyone that was willing in the French Quarter.” Warren sneered.

Remy stared at him blankly, giving nothing away while inside his gut twisted.  “You don’ know nuttin’ ‘bout me.  What make you t’ink dat I was a who’e?”

“BECAUSE YOU FUCKED MY FATHER!” Warren screamed, his face red with rage.  Remy blanched at the accusation, the denial on the tip of his tongue before Warren continued.  “You don’t remember do you?  We were both kids.  My dad brought me with him on his business trip to New Orleans.  He picked you up and brought you back to the hotel.  He introduced you to me as a special friend, telling me your name was Diable.  It was only later I understood that word meant devil.” Warren spat, as if repeating the much hated name was vile to him.  “He told us to play together, then we all ate together.  We watched the television and played one of my board games.  And later that evening, the nanny came to take me to bed.  Only you didn’t go with me.  It wasn’t a slumber party for me.  You stayed with him.  I saw him put his arm around your shoulders like you were some kind of possession.  And I HATED you in that moment, because you had all his attention, while he was sending me away.”  Warren stepped forward into Remy’s personal space.  “But I wasn’t the naïve little boy he thought I was.  I knew what he wanted to do with you, what the two of you did after I left.”  There was a sneer on the face as he brought it to within centimeters of Remy’s.  Almost, their noses touched. 

“You…You really did that Remy?” It was a soft question only heard because of the stillness in the room.  Bobby looked up at the Cajun from where he sat, his eyes wide and shining. 

Without turning to look at him, never breaking the staring contest he was holding with the winged warrior, Remy answered.  “Boy gotta eat some kinda way Bobby.”

The ice man’s brows furrowed.  “But-But they have shelters for that kind of thing.  Why didn’t you go to one of the shelters?  You didn’t have to do that when there are places you could have gone.”

Remy snorted.  “Remy be safer wit’ de one night stands.  In de shelter, ain’t so easy to escape when dey come to take you.”

“Take?  But, that’s not right.  The shelters are safe places for homeless.  You would have been….”

Remy finally broke eye contact and pierced Bobby’s baby blues, interrupting the boy’s utopia speech.  “Must be nice to live in your world, homme.  Tell me, do pink fluffy bunnies live dere, too?”

“Don’t take this out on him, you piece of trash!”  Warren shoved a finger hard into Remy’s chest, causing the Cajun to involuntarily step back to regain his balance. 

“Warren, that’s enough.” Betsy spoke up, concerned at the tension radiating off both men.  The den was no place for an all out brawl between two powerful mutants. 

The winged mutant turned to his girlfriend.  “He IS trash.  He sucks and fucks his way through life.”

Remy bristled.  “At least who’ing be a honest way to earn it, homme.  You know what you gettin’ for de money.  Can’t say de same for dem dat run big mega-corporations.  We all who’es one way or de ot’er, whet’er we selling our bodies for food, or our souls for money.”

Warren rounded on him.  “How dare you compare me to you, punk.” 

Logan had been standing to the side, letting this play out until he saw Warren take a step towards Remy with clenched fists.  He deftly moved between them and pushed the winged mutant back.  ”Shut the fuck up, fly-boy.  You wipe yer ass the same as him or me.”  Logan paused and took a deep sniff melodramatically in the direction of the winged mutant, then crinkled his nose with a little snort of disgust.  “Unless ya got some kink ya ain’t told us about.”  He let the implication sink in.

Worthington fumed.  Remy watched him with a sort of detached vision, seeing the man turn almost purple with anger.  He nearly laughed out loud as he imagined the man as a cartoon character, complete with steam coming out of his ears.  And suddenly, it dawned on him that the golden boy wasn’t so golden. 

Remy turned and began to leave the room.  Warren noticed and angrily called after him.  “Hey!  Come back here.  This conversation isn’t over.”

The Cajun kept walking, briefly turning his head to throw back a reply over his shoulder.  “It sho’ ‘nuff is.  Remy goin’ ta bed.”

Logan waited the span of a heartbeat before he too turned to follow the boy.  Betsy clasped Logan’s arm to stop him from leaving. “Got to be careful of pretty packages, luv.  They’re usually full of trouble.” 

Logan looked down at the perfectly manicured hand, then slowly raised his head.  His eyes flickered to the golden Adonis with a rigid white-winged back standing a few feet behind her before turning his gaze back to her.  “Could say the same thing to you, darlin’.”  And with that, he shook off her hold and left the room.

He watched as the Cajun carefully climbed the stairs, moving like an arthritic old man.  He said nothing until they reached their floor, stopping when the boy stopped.  “Wha’ you want, Logan.  Why you following?”

“Wanted to see if ya need any help.” He answered, his voice carefully neutral.

Blue eyes watched as the shoulders of the young man in front of him straightened defensively.  Almost, a visible wall could be seen building around the boy.  Remy turned to look at the older man, a seductive smile in place.  If Magneto wanted him to play the whore, then that’s exactly what he would do.  He was too tired to fight anymore, and it seemed it was all he was capable of doing.  “Or maybe, you wanna taste of Remy?  Hmm?”  Slowly, his hand ran across the fabric of his shirt, along the contours of his chest, licking his lips in wanton invitation.  It was detached, hollow, and it infuriated the feral that the boy would act that way towards him.

Logan backed him fiercely against the wall, and in one swift motion plunged his hand into loose pants, grabbing the boy at the root with a hard squeeze.  Remy cried out, pain tears stinging the corners of his eyes.  “Ya trying to tell me that this is all yer about?”

“Remy be made only for sex.”  His hands weakly grasped Logan’s forearm and elbow, desperate for the older mutant to release his vice-like grip.

Logan squeezed harder.  “Who’s made for sex?”

“R-Rem…aaah”  Remy screamed as Logan gave two harsh tugs. “I…I was.”

 

“Bullshit.”  Logan relaxed his hold slightly, easing off some of the pressure but not releasing.  “Who fed ya that line of crap?”  At the lack of response from the younger man, Logan snorted in frustration and withdrew his hand from the boy’s pants.

Remy slid down the wall, staring at a spot on the ceiling above Logan’s head, unable to look into those hardened eyes as tears slowly ran from his own.  Logan crouched in front of him, wrists dangling off knees as he studied the boy and catalogued the smell of an unknown person’s presence on Remy’s body.  “Don’t lie to me Cajun.  I can see right through ya.”  At the tensing of Remy’s body and a twitch in his jaw, Logan clarified.  “I ain’t no damn telepath if that’s what yer thinking.  Yer not so difficult to read ya know.  It’s obvious to anyone willing to see it that yer dealing with some unpleasant shit that’s got ya all twisted up inside.  Seems to me ya got two choices.  Continue down this self-destructive path yer on, or take the fork in the road that we’re offering ya.”  Logan’s eyes softened and he gently ran the back of one finger down Remy’s cheek until ruby eyes lowered to look at him.  “I, for one, know which path I hope ya choose.” He said softly.  Remy could only stare in wonder at the man, seeing more in those piercing blue eyes than was said in words. 

Logan let his finger linger another moment before standing up.  “Now go take a shower.  From what I smell, yer in pain.”  

Remy gusted a humorless laugh.  “Dieu, you can smell pain?” he asked incredulously.

Logan sighed inwardly.  Hadn’t they already discussed this once before?  “Can’t smell pain, kid.  But I can smell blood.  I won’t ask.  I figger yer a big boy.  And since yer walking and talking…” he shrugged, attempting to feign unconcern as he let the verbal thought trail off, reaching a hand down to help the Cajun rise.  Remy wasn’t fooled.

He accepted the aid and stood as gracefully as possible, his hand lingering in the feral’s as he stared into those ocean colored orbs.  “T’anks” he said quietly, squeezing the older man’s hand before releasing it to move towards his room.  It didn’t take him long to gather a change of clothes before heading to the shower.  Logan seemed to have disappeared somewhere, and Remy wavered between relief and disappointment.  As he entered the shower, he couldn’t look at the mirror to his right.  The over-sized, well-worn clothes that Magneto had given him were quickly removed and Remy stepped toward the stall.

He stood under the spray and let the water wash it all away.  At that moment, he could care less if he used all of the hot water in the tanks that Logan had so affectionately named.  Big Bertha and Oz could blow gaskets as far as he was concerned.  The only thing that mattered was the burn on his skin, the peeling away of the outermost layers to remove the filth that clung to him.  If he thought it wouldn’t draw even more attention and uncomfortable questions from the others, he would have scrubbed himself raw.  As it was though, he had to be content with the reddening that the slightly scalding temperatures would produce, knowing it would most likely fade through the night.

Remy wasn’t sure how much time passed, but as the water slowly cooled, he finally reached to shut off the valves, smirking at the fact that anyone else taking a shower in the near future would only enjoy lukewarm water at best.  Stepping from the stall, he quickly dried himself with a towel and then stared at himself in the mirror, a study of disgust and despair on his face.  Creed had done a thorough job.  Bruises in the shape of handprints were darkening under the heat agitated skin.  Claw marks of varying depths ran in places on his hips and thighs, some slowly oozing anew having been reopened under the assault of the shower.  A surge of anger rose from deep within and Remy balled his fist, pulling his arm back and throwing it full force towards the glass.  It was sheer willpower that stayed his punch at the last moment, his fisted hand trembling at the effort.  Fingers slowly unclenched and gingerly touched the mirror.  What good would it do to shatter his image? 

A heavy sigh escaped his throat as he tore his gaze away from the creature staring back at him.  He could keep this hidden from the others.  It wouldn’t take too long to heal.  And as long as Logan didn’t expect anything from him…….that thought brought a whole new level of pain.  Logan deserved better, though the older man would be the first to admit he himself was no saint.  Remy sighed again and pulled on a long sleeve jersey and the flannel pajama pants that Bobby loaned him once before.  The ice mutant was a good bit shorter than Remy, and the Cajun couldn’t help but chuckle as he glanced down at his naked ankles and feet.  At least the skin there was unmarked.  Dieu he was tired.

He stepped from the bathroom and made his way down the hall, eyes focused on the floor directly in front of his step as his thoughts whirled.  It was only as he neared his room that he looked up and saw the feral casually leaning against his doorframe with crossed arms.  Remy’s step faltered for a moment before he pulled up his mask and closed the distance.  “Gonna tuck me in, cher?” he asked nonchalantly.

The edges of Logan’s lips turned up as he pushed away from the wall.  “Maybe….here.”  He held out a hand, palm side up, to expose two white rounded pills.

Remy frowned when he recognized what they were.  “Tol’ ya, homme.  Allergic to aspirin.”

“I know what ya said and I think ya need to sleep.  Take ‘em.”  He thrust the pills forward into Remy’s personal space.

The Cajun floundered, unsure of what to say, and finally settled on the truth.  “Logan, cher, can’t keep my shields up if I take dem.  De telepat’s…”

“Won’t do nothin’.”  Logan interrupted.  “I’m gonna sit with ya and be yer shield.  Even Betsy won’t try it while I’m in here.”

Remy could only stare at him, overwhelmed by what the older man was offering.  The conflict was clearly written all over Remy’s face, but Logan waited patiently.  The Cajun knew the man wasn’t going to take no for an answer.  “D’accord.” He finally decided and popped the pills into his mouth, swallowing them dry and making a face at the sour taste.  He slipped under the covers quietly, unable to relax fully, all too aware of the older man’s presence.  At some point, Logan had pulled another, more comfortable chair into Remy’s room – one that could easily accommodate his mass – and sat back with a book in hand.  The fact that he wasn’t questioning made Remy apprehensive, feelings of guilt surfacing.  He truly couldn’t afford to feel such things as the aspirin began to take effect.  So, he decided to purge himself.  “I made a mistake, Logan, and paid de price.”

Logan glanced up from the page he was reading.  “Ya wanna talk ‘bout it, Cajun?”

“Non” he whispered, irritated at himself for the moisture he could feel gathering at the corners of his eyes. 

Logan didn’t push for details and politely ignored the sudden smell of salty water coming from the direction of the boy’s exotic eyes.  Instead he asked “Are ya gonna be okay Remy or do I gotta break my foot off in someone’s ass?”

That made the Cajun chuckle, his imagination running wild with visions of his feral literally shoving his massive foot up Creed’s ass, showing the bastard exactly what it felt like to have something big and unforgiving tearing him up inside.  It was a satisfying vision as far as Remy was concerned.  “Ain’t necessary, Logan.  Re….I’ll be fine.”

End ch 27

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