X-Men Fan Fiction ❯ Origins ❯ Chapter 29 ( Chapter 29 )

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

See notes, disclaimers, and warnings in the first chapter

Notes #2: The lyrics used in this chapter belong to the song ‘Trouble' by Coldplay. The words on the marker are by Sablerose, who graciously allowed me the use of part of her poem.

Words between / / are thoughts, mind speak
Words between ~ ~ are lyrics to any songs I might use
Words between * * are flashbacks, but they are noted that way

Ch 29

Grey.

That was the only thing floating in his mind. Everything was grey. A dull, drab hue, that's not really in the category of black, or that of white, but rather varying shades somewhere in between the two extremes. He mused that it really shouldn't be called a color at all, being completely bland and void of any vitality. It was like staring at a two dimensional old photograph of unfamiliar scenery that sparks no emotional connection, yet plays a great deal on the most negative feelings of depression that a soul can experience. There was no style or substance to the color. It simply was.

It was cold; the chill in the air allowing the exhalation of breath to crystallize into a fog as it permeated the drops of water that fell with a gentle, steady rhythm all around. Grey and cold; why did the two always seem to come as a pair? Remy took no notice of the rain falling down, nor any acknowledgement of the people standing around him. He was focused on the little rectangular plot of fresh, soggy dirt, and the stone statue of a little angel girl with an upturned face at its head; the drizzle of drops running like tears from the corner of the marble eyes as they stared unseeing into the heavens above.

The sky was as granular as the stone, one mimicking the other. They were both cold and grey, just like everything else - the thought running over and over in his head. It was weird to him where the mind wanders when faced with overwhelming despair and tragedy.

Completely numb didn't begin to describe his body; his mind still running around in meaningless circles. It felt like he had been in a state of limbo for days, unable to handle even the smallest of details without zoning completely out of the picture. He would have to thank the Professor later for his kind generosity in donating the tombstone. Despite the solid dull color, it was quite beautiful. Krystal would have loved it, he decided. She always seemed to find beauty in anything she came across. So unlike himself; jaded most of the time. Ruby eyes wandered to the engraved words he knew by heart, the words engraved on all of the headstones the Professor had given to the clan's graves.

*In our eye's you'll always shine
*A star that fell too soon

It was the last line of a poem dedicated to fallen heroes. He remembered the one who had written it, one of the older women in the clan. Idly his mind wandered to that moment. Her adopted name had been Sable Rose, a beautiful non-mutant member of the Morlock family that had fallen in love with them. The choice to live her life among them was an easy one that Remy understood, the powerful need of a lonely spirit to grasp the familial welcoming comforts of the clan. They were the true heroes, bravely living their lives as best they could despite all that so-called civilization threw at them, taking in the strays that no one else wanted.

But in the end, the only focus that remained foremost in his mind was the cold and the color grey.

The group was silent as Kurt chanted on, prayers and rites given over unknown souls regardless of what their personal beliefs had been. The Professor took the opportunity to study his followers from under the edge of the umbrella he held over his head. Most of the team had their heads down, whether in silent prayer or to hide their grief over the senseless death of strangers was unclear. Glancing at the man known as Wolverine, Xavier noted that the older mutant had his face slightly raised, eyes closed as he let the water cascade over his features, hiding his tears. Xavier suspected he knew why.

/Men don't cry/

He remembered the comment the feral had made so long ago, when the man had first arrived at the mansion, determined to hold an ironclad control over his emotions. It was a weakness, the feral thought at the time, having been conditioned to believe such. The Professor smiled sadly at the man. It was amazing how far the older mutant had come, how hard he worked to overcome that conditioning. The strength in that alone spoke volumes and the telepath could only admire the feral for his courage.

Shifting his gaze slightly, he studied the team leader. So much like the son he never had the chance to raise; yet different in so many ways. But Xavier was proud of the man Scott Summers had become. Together with his prized student, Jean, the couple had managed to find normalcy in a crazy world; marrying and starting a family amidst the prejudice and strife. He knew that Jean was worrying herself with guilt at not being allowed to attend the service. Hank had insisted, though. She was still on bed rest from her overload with Cerebro. And, being caught in a never ending downpour for an extended period of time may lead to a cold, something the very pregnant mutant could not afford at this stage.

At the thought of the downpour, Xavier turned his look towards his weather warrior. She was so proud, so strong. But this was all too much for her. Despite her best efforts, she could not control the deep sadness that invaded her very soul like a leech, draining away her control until the steady downpour was beyond her capacity to hold back. They were all feeling it; the darkness, despair, and the overwhelming grief. Shifting his gaze back to the newest member standing at the head of the grave, Xavier finally knew what Remy's third power was.

It had eluded him, on the very tip of his awareness, but he was never sure until this very moment. The waves of emotions rolled off of him like a tidal wave, even as his mask was firmly in place. The boy was an empath. The head slightly bowed allowed the rain soaked strands of auburn hair turned dark in wetness to trail over his face, hiding his features from everyone. But, the Professor didn't need to see his face to know what the other mutant was feeling. His own impressive shielding could not even hold it back, and Xavier wondered yet again just how powerful an Omega class mutant the Cajun was. Perhaps it would be something that they could explore together now that he knew. That is, if the boy would let him in. Closing his eyes to the sight, and turning his head back towards Kurt, Xavier sighed and said his own prayers over his fellow man.

As the last words were spoken and Kurt clutched his good book to his chest, most of the team cast concerned glances at the Cajun as they turned to make their way back to the mansion. The numbers dwindled until there remained only two at the gravesite. Logan stood beside Remy, a quiet pillar of strength to the boy as he struggled to cope.

After a few moments, Logan's hand slowly reached out and intertwined with Remy's. It was contact that he needed to bring him back, as lost and alone as he felt. He slowly turned and they simply stared at each other.

Emerald green irises saddened as Rogue turned her gaze to the two men still standing by the grave. As she watched them stare at each other, she could not help the flare of jealousy. One man she could touch, but could never have; the other she wanted to have, but could never touch. Logan's hand lifted and caressed the Cajun's cheek, Remy closing his eyes in response. And as the scene played out, her gut twisted in loneliness and despair even as a small smile played on her lips, her heart wishing them true happiness as she turned away to leave and give them the privacy they deserved. Both had come to mean a great deal to her and she would not begrudge them the feelings they shared for one another, no matter how much it hurt.

******

It wasn't about sex.

It was about comfort.

The need to feel alive after being surrounded by so much death.

The need to feel another soul's touch.

Logan laid him down, moving in slow motion as he peeled soaked clothing from the cold skin it cloaked. Gentle kisses worked their way over the chilled body, bringing warmth everywhere lips touched reverently.

Remy closed his eyes and sighed shakily. His hands came up to softly skim through Logan's hair as the older man stoked a dying fire back to life. Logan called on all his experience as he entered the willing body below, and rocked with a tender rhythm, his tongue mimicking the motions in the younger mutant's mouth.

Remy could feel all of the feral, the physical and the emotional. The older man laid it all before him, wrapped it around him like a blanket, a lifeline to his drifting soul. And he grabbed onto that saving tether with all his strength, concentrating on the feral as he made sweet, slow love to him, helping drive away the darkness.

"Remy" Logan whispered. "I'm here for you." His breath ghosted over the younger man's lips, and the tears that would not fall at Krystal's grave began to slip out, trailing down Remy's face to drop off into nothing. "I'm here." He whispered again.

They moved as one entity, no clear definition where one ended and the other began. And emotions climaxed, two bodies gasping in pleasure, before slowly ebbing away. One large, masculine hand came up to softly comb back auburn strands of hair and wipe away straggling tears, the strength in the man belied by the gentle gesture. No words were needed as everything was said through their eyes, the windows to their souls. And they drifted off into dreamless sleep, clinging to each other...saving each other.

*****

Remy's eyes fluttered open. He continued to breathe slow and easy so his lover would not stir from his deep slumber. The dawn was still far away and the night closed around him like a blanket. But, he could not return to sleep. His mind raced with a multitude of thoughts and he found he could no longer lay idle in bed. Slowly, like the master thief he was, he eased from the bed and made a quiet trek from the room, down the hall and stairs to the workout room below. He recalled the room was soundproof and the door closed behind him as he stepped over to the stereo system. There was already a music disc in the unit and he found that it didn't really matter what was playing. As long as it was some kind of background noise to fill the silence, it would be fine. For the past several days, Remy had vacillated between listless indifference and numb resignation. And now, he needed to feel the burn of muscles moving and stretching as he contorted through various exercises.

A press of the play button caused the speakers to fill with a soulful, melancholic piano with just the right slow tempo to match his mood. He started his routine with a handstand; his body straight and toes pointed towards the ceiling. Intent on holding that form for a moment, he nearly lost his balance to fall on his face when he heard the first lyrics of the song.

~ Oh no, I see
A spider web is tangled up with me~

Remy recovered quickly, smoothly maneuvering such that the near collapse turned into a somersault, allowing him to return to a standing position. How ironic, he mused, that the first words of a song he had never heard before would so eloquently describe his current predicament. A quick step led to a series of flips and tumbles, as if he were avoiding incoming strikes. His body moved on automatic, initiating the steps and moves as naturally as breathing. All the while, his mind wandered. Once, when he was a kid, he remembered seeing a spider web up close. In the open doorway of an abandoned, dilapidated building, he sat and stared out into the rain soaked night. With the rain pouring down in sheets, and the wind blowing so strong, there would be no hope of picking a pocket. The streets were empty, for the most part, and too dangerous when there was no prospect of earning a little money. So, he sat and listened to the rain as it struck the concrete. But, his eyes were riveted on a large, intricate web that stretched from one upper corner of the doorway to the other. A large cockroach had flown into the middle of the thread, and was struggling futilely against the sticky matter. The spider was simply waiting for its prey to cease moving before it would cocoon it and feed. He remembered being fascinated at the whole process, and watched it for hours on end as a way to ignore the gnawing hunger in his own belly.

~And I never meant to cause you trouble
And I never meant to do you wrong~

A quick spin kick set him off into a series of fluid back flips and smooth cartwheels as his mind continued to muse, the lyrics of the song filtering through his thoughts. In a way, his own life was like that of the bugs that were caught in the webbing. He was trapped, unable to see a way out, waiting for his particular nemesis to strike. The worst part was the knowledge that he would destroy descent people that had become his friends, his family.... his lover. Had, in fact, already done so with the death of the Morlocks. Remy lost his footing and fell to one knee at the thought of those they had buried earlier. His breath was harsh in his chest, proof that he was overworking himself to fatigue, but he didn't care.

Pushing himself up, he started on a series of slow, methodical moves. Though he couldn't remember all of the steps, he did recall the name of the form - Tai chi. The first time he had seen it, he had been searching the alleys behind some restaurants for any tossed food. It was very early in the morning, just past dawn. He had found that the earlier he could raid the dumpsters, the better his chances of finding some uneaten food that had not yet been soiled by the contents of the trash under it, or destroyed by trash poured on top. It was a fine line, finding just the right time to hit the restaurants by the waterfront that served early morning breakfasts. On this particular morning, he had scored a mostly whole biscuit and an untouched sausage patty among the refuse, and decided to sit on the edge of the docks to watch the water. As he chewed his sandwich in utter bliss, he noticed an older oriental couple further down the pathway. They were performing moves in sync, and it looked to Remy as if they were dancing a slow, intricate dance of some sort. He continued to watch them for a while until the streets started to fill with more people starting the day, then he scampered back to the relative safety of the shadows. But, each morning that he came to scrounge for breakfast, he saw the old couple and watched them perform their dance. They seemed at peace and content, and Remy decided he wanted to give it a try. If there was one thing that he hoped for at such a young age, it was to find a little happiness. He began to mimic their moves from a distance, keeping to their backs as much as possible lest they see him.

This routine continued for almost a week, until one day when the couple ended the form and the older man turned to look directly at Le Diable Blanc. Remy flinched, startled at being caught, but the older man didn't seem bothered by the red-eyed child that had been watching them.

"It is called Tai chi, little one." He said, a small smile playing on his face at the little ragamuffin a few yards away. "And if you join us over here, we will teach you the proper way to perform the steps." He held out one hand towards Remy, making an innocent offer. But Remy had been living on the streets too long by that time, and didn't trust the words. Grownups, he had learned, always wanted something from him - usually something unpleasant. He turned and ran, ignoring their pleas to come back, and never returned to watch them. Over the years, without anyone to teach him differently, Remy had developed his own style of the art.

~ Oh no, I see
The spider web and it's me in the middle
So I twist and turn
But here am I in my little bubble~

He ended his unique version of katas, and began another violent series of moves as the piano continued to play. Remy recalled that his father had called the moves a form of gymnastic martial arts. But, for the Cajun, it was something that seemed to be a part of the very cells in his body. A back-flip kick with both feet preceded a cartwheel kick into an imaginary target's face. A hand-stand allowed him to grab an imaginary target between the legs, followed by a slam flip that would put said target beneath him in a landing. It ended with a somersault strike that had him flipping into a somersault that would land on a target's chest if he were fighting. Instead, he landed on the floor, on one knee, head bent and eyes closed as he panted for air. Sweat dripped from the tip of his nose as he listened to the lyrics of the song; his heart in his throat as the words rang true.

~ They spun a web for me
They spun a web for me
They spun ......~

The music abruptly ended with a click. Remy's eyes flew open and he whirled around to stare at the person on the far side of the room.

"Would you like to talk about it?" Xavier softly asked, one hand still touching the stereo while the other rested in his lap.

"Leavin' tonight. Don't t'ink I'll be comin' back." Remy took a deep breath and stood from his crouched position. He nearly choked on his next words. "Will...will you take care of Logan for me?"

Xavier eyed him speculatively for a few moments and decided to try one more time to reach out to the boy. "We can help you, if you'll just trust us." He projected all the calm sincerity of a nurturing mother to a newborn babe.

The Cajun felt the emotions coming from the older man, somehow knew that they were intentional, and it was his undoing. He didn't want to fight anymore; was tired of the subterfuge. Briefly closing his eyes, he opened them with renewed determination.

"Professeur, please help me." He whispered. But, the words were loud enough for the telepath to hear.

Xavier rolled towards the boy until he could almost touch him. "Then tell me, whose spider web are you caught in?"

End ch 29
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