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Pack Privileges

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Pack Loyalty 3 Pack Privileges
by eoen


"Non!" Don' do this!" Remy hissed shaking Logan's shoulder. He'd seen the spin out. He'd slowed down in the rain to avoid the same thing. If anyone asked he could state for certain that it was just an accident. Jubilee had begged Logan to take her shopping and he'd agreed so long as he could drag Remy with them. Jubilee had agreed happily and she and the thief had done significant damage to Remy's bank account.

"Logan, wake up. Merde! Y' know I can't lift y', cher." Remy shivered as the freezing rain they'd been hoping to miss slid down the back of his collar. Remy righted the motorcycle. He went to his
own to fish the space blanket and slicker out of his saddlebag. He positioned the bikes and made a makeshift tent between the two, putting the blanket on the wet ground. He dragged Logan under it and panted with the effort. He was strong enough, but three hundred pounds plus of dead-weight was a bit much and the ground was beginning to glisten with ice. After fifteen minutes it was clear that Logan wasn't going to wake up soon. "Now what, cher?" Remy asked rubbing Logan's arm.



Jean Grey-Summers dropped her book in shock. Scott looked up from his monitor. "Dickens isn't that bad."

"It's Remy."

"I know there's similarities, but. . ."

"No." She tapped her head. "He's thinking at me."

"He's a 'path?"

"Empath. No, I keep a tracer on him because he refuses to let the professor in."

//Sil vous plait. Jeannie, answer. Dieu.//

//I'm here. What's wrong, sweetie?// She'd never admit it to anyone, but she *liked* being the den mother. //Remy?// She frowned.

His mind-voice usually had a sardonic edge to it. Now, there was a static that seemed almost like panic. Remy never panicked.

//Jeannie, Logan's hurt. Think he's dying.//

//Where are you?//

//Can't see the sign. Somewhere on the highway. Ain't nobody passing. Storm's getting heavy. He's bleeding. Cut his throat on a rock.// Remy sent her a pastiche of images.

//We're coming, honey. Hang on.// So maybe she liked mothering Remy a little bit. He needed it. "Trouble. We need to take the van. Logan spun out. He's bleeding."

"I'll get Storm."

"Too much trouble. Two of us can do it. I'll brief Hank on the way."

Scott nodded.


Remy eased his finger off the trigger of his gun when he recognized Jean's face. She frowned at him. "I didn't know you carried a gun."

"Since I was fifteen. He's breathin', but y' have t' feel it cuz y' can't see it." Remy was shivering almost constantly. The makeshift tent didn't protect them very well. Jean moved Logan into the backseat while Scott and Remy loaded the bikes onto the trailer.

Remy shivered miserably in the front seat.

"Why didn't you call?" Scott asked.

"Com's dead. Must've gotten too wet."


"Couldn't find it."

Scott nodded. "Probably isn't carrying it."


Logan surfaced from someplace dark and cold. He was warm and comfortable. His nose twitched. What was he doing in the healer's area? He blinked awake to Spice's worried eyes. He smelled heat and sickness and frowned. Blue came into the room. He picked up the protesting pup and settled him into the other bed with a stern warning.


"And don't get up again without permission."

Remy stuck his tongue out behind Hank's back.

"And how are we doing, Logan?"

Logan yawned and stretched.

"Y' check his brain, M. Bete?"

"Hush, Remy."

"Why? Sure there's somethin' there, me."

"If it will make you rest. Now, go to sleep, Remy, or I will drug you."


Spice's eyes were closed, but he was far from sleep. At least he was trying. Logan sat up and Blue fussed over him.


"What's the good word, Hank?" Scott asked bearing a mug of coffee for the doctor.


Scott snorted.

"Logan is awake, but feral. He may snap out of it within the day. He was nearly dead when he arrived. It's Gambit's condition that worries me. He has pneumonia."



"He hasn't been coughing," Scott pointed out.

"According to my little spy in the men's wing, he coughs all night, but denies it during the day."

"He's been hiding being sick?"

"Probably taking a cough suppressant during the day, although with his reactions to medication, that is not a wise course of action. His chest X-ray is developing."

"You think it's TB?"

"No, I just want to see how far it's progressed."

"How long?"

"At a guess, since Rouge left if not before. I am at a loss as to how to keep him in bed for the rest he needs."

"Have you considered sleeping in it?" Scott asked with a raised brow.

Hank laughed. "You can't be serious."

"You've never been Gambited?"

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"He's slept in everyone's bed. Well, not Warren's, but that's a technicality. He's really never crept into your room at midnight?"

"I rarely sleep in my room."

"You do have a point. He doesn't come out to the boathouse."

Scott shrugged. "Mostly, Storm and Logan house him these days. He used to sleep in Rogue's room when she'd let him. She kicked him out when she wanted to sleep. He's even crashed in the professor's bed before."

"And yours?" Hank raised his brows in surprise. "The lord of personal space issues allowed the kid-Cajun into his bed? Amazing."

Scott shrugged. "He's like a cat. You don't realize he's there until it's too late to kick him out."

"And Jean?"

"Not at the same time, but yes."

Hank gaped at him. "Incredible. And how does our thief manage this feat?"

"He creeps into the room and gives you puppy-dog eyes if you're awake. He just slides into bed if you're asleep." Scott shrugged.


Logan moved carefully to the pup's side. His joints ached. He settled on the bed. Spice looked at him with fever-bright eyes and choked back a cough. Logan turned him onto his stomach and stroked his back soothingly. He searched for one of those squares Jean was always using when her nose ran. He found one, neatly folded into the pocket of the pup's coat. He found the pup's rag-toy as he was searching. He set the green rag respectfully on the pillow. Spice snatched it away with a glare.

Logan smiled and held out the cloth. Spice took it. He made a questioning noise. Logan patted his back to make him cough. Blue's attention snapped towards his charges. He nodded at Logan and went back to his discussion with the alpha.


"What's going on?" Scott asked, confused.

"Logan is forcing the mucus out. I was going to ask Ororo to serve, but Logan already knows the technique from when Jubilee had bronchitis two years ago."

"So does that mean Wolverine is back to normal?"

"No, merely that he recognizes the need for it. If he weren't feral he wouldn't be doing it."

Scott wasn't so sure of that, but held his tongue.


When the round of coughing ended, Logan crumpled the wet cloth onto the tray. He nudged the pup onto his side and then stretched out. The pup snuggled close and Logan rubbed his back
gently until he slept. Blue pulled a warming cloth up over both of them.


"Goodnight," Hank said with a smile. He patted Remy's hair gently. He dimmed the lights further. He found Ororo waiting for him in the hall.



"How is he?"

"He is fine, Ororo. He has pneumonia, but I'm certain we will be able to care for that easily."


Remy sighed and snuggled closer to the sturdy body. His chest hurt, his sides hurt, everything ached and he was burning up. Logan's arm was steady across his back and his frog was safely tucked under the pillow. No one would take it away. His fingers twisted in the soft cotton of Logan's shirt. He knew there was something he should be doing or saying, but he couldn't think. Nothing made any sense when he tried. Logan's emotions were pleasantly soothing and he felt
himself slipping into something that approximated sleep. Well, as much sleep as he'd been getting since Rogue left. He wished for his cough syrup as he felt the spasms building. Logan pressed a handkerchief to Remy's lips and patted his back firmly to force him into coughing up the disgusting blobs of mucus. The Cajun was too tired to fight him.


Logan blinked awake. He wracked his brain as to why he was in the med-lab when he remembered the spin out. Then, he realized that he had an overly warm Cajun in his arms. He needed to pee, but he didn't want to wake Remy. It had been a long time since he'd woken to
find Remy snuggled close to him. Besides, the kid seemed sick. He looked around for Hank and the kid shifted with a muttering protest.

Remy settled on his side, letting Logan slide out of the bed.

Logan went to the bathroom and sighed in relief at the release of the pressure. Hank was at his desk. "Hey, Blue. What's up with the kid?"

"Pneumonia. You're feeling better, I see. We're going to do a CAT scan today."

Logan blinked. "We're what?"

"Come along, Logan. It won't hurt. And maybe, if God shows some mercy, I'll be able to keep Gambit in the lab without the use of restraints."


Remy woke alone. He wrapped his hand around his frog and shivered. Hadn't he been sleeping next to someone? He needed to pee.

And maybe get something to eat. Coffee would be nice. With a big old spoonful of honey to help his throat. He got up and stumbled. He saw his coat neatly hanging on the wall. He debated putting it on, realizing that he was in his PJ's and couldn't remember putting them on. This was starting to scare him. He didn't forget things. He *never* forgot things, ever. His brain didn't work that way. There were plenty of things he *wanted* to forget, but couldn't. He didn't recognize the room and forced himself to not panic. He found the bathroom with relief. He still had his frog, so it couldn't be that bad. He had to know someone here. He tucked the little rag-frog into his shirt by his heart and peered out the door. There was a computer up and running. He quirked a brow. That might be useful.

He sat down at it. It wasn't even password protected. How strange. He thought that all hospital computers had higher security than that. He perused the files quickly. At least I don't have to
worry about this Legacy shit, he thought. Essex assured him that he was immune to the virus. He moved onto the medical records. What the hell was he doing in the X-men's med-lab. They wouldn't be taking care of him would they?


"Get back into bed immediately, Gambit!" Hank ordered. The red eyes blinked at him once, then twice.

"What's wrong wit' m'?" he asked.

"You have a very nasty case of pneumonia. Get into bed, young man. I've even scanned Logan's brain. You were correct there is a piece of shrapnel still imbedded in his hindbrain. I'll take it out as soon as I get you settled. Are you hungry?"

"Mais, a bit," Remy answered. Hank put down his fuzziness to the fever that he'd been running for several days.

"We need to get this temperature down, M. LeBeau," Beast informed the thief as he tucked him in. "I'll summon Jean for some lunch and a cold compress. Would you prefer to sleep sitting up?"

Remy nodded. He settled into the bed and let the blanket be pulled up half-way.

Logan wandered in. "Feelin' better, kid?" Remy shrugged. Logan raised his brows. "That bad, huh? If yer good I'll sneak ya in some beer. But ya tell Hank and all bets're off, got it?"


"Damn, you sound rough. I'll make ya some tea. Help that. Tell Hank I'll be back."

Remy nodded and Logan disappeared.


"Where has Logan hared off to?" Hank asked as he set down the tray.

"Said he was gettin' some tea," Remy croaked.

"Don't talk if your throat is sore," Beast counseled. "Jean will be down with some broth and bread later. If you're very nice she might bring you something to entertain yourself with. Now, let me take your pulse."

Remy eyed the doctor warily and let him take his pulse and blood pressure and temperature.

"I have a shot of penicillin for you since you refuse to take pills. Give me your arm."

Remy folded his arms across his chest.

"Remy," Hank chided, "give me your arm. You know very well that I am not out to hurt you."


"Hey, Jeannie. I'm gonna be headin' back down. Ya want me to take that tray?"

"If you want to. Are you alright?" she asked in concern.

"Nothin' much. Still got a piece of Cyke's car stuck in my head. That's why I been goin' feral so easy. Hank's gonna pull it out. Says it shouldn't take long. The kid's not stayin' in bed, so I'm gonna keep an eye on him fer Blue."

"Logan, isn't it time you told him?"

"Why? So he can push me away? Don't think so, Red. No way in Hell. Especially not while he's down there. Gumbo needs someone he can trust down there and I ain't gonna make him uncomfortable. He don't swing that way. Least not that I've ever smelled."

"You might be surprised, Logan. There's a lot of people who aren't exactly what they seem."

Logan snorted. "Like you and Ro? No sale, honey. Everyone knows about that."

Jean blushed, cursing her Irish heritage. He winked at her and took the tray.

"I still think you should tell him. You could be missing out on something really big."

"Crazy woman," Logan muttered. He set the tray down by Remy's bed. "Hey, Cajun. Brought ya some dinner." He frowned. "What's wrong, kiddo?"

Remy shrugged. "Not'in'. Why?"

"Cuz yer heart's goin' nuts."

Remy blinked at him. "Y' can hear it?" he whispered.

Logan nodded and the Cajun blushed. "Just bein' in the lab like this. Don' like it me."

Remy picked at the blanket. Logan frowned and tried to catch the red gaze. He didn't like it when Remy wouldn't meet his eyes. It meant the kid was planning to do something stupid. "Truth this time, Gumbo."

Remy shifted uncomfortably. His ribs ached. "Mais, I don' know."

"Yer still lyin' to me, kiddo."

"Y're le Wolverine, oui?" Remy said, voice low. His eyes darted towards the door. "Why the Hell is Gambit here?"

"Ya got pneumonia," Logan said, eyes narrowing. "Name's Logan or Wolverine. Don't ya remember me?"

Remy shook his head. "An' that's Hank McCoy. Was wit' the Avengers, non?"

"Fer awhile."

"Oui, that's what I t'ought." He frowned. "I don' understand." He gestured at the room. "This don' look like no prison. Ain't tied down. I'm in the fuckin' X-men headquarters," he hissed. "I don' get it."

Logan nodded. "Yer an X-man, kiddo. Ya may not remember it, but ya are. When yer fever fades down yer gonna feel better. Things'll be a little less confusin'."

"Doubt that, me."

Logan grinned at that. "At least a little bit. Come on, eat up. Jeannie'll come down and make sure ya do."

"Jeannie?" Remy's brows furrowed. "Phoenix?"

"That's right. Who else do ya remember?" Logan urged.

"Don' remember anyt'in' but a file on her," the thief said softly. His throat hurt, his head throbbed, and he really didn't like exposing his weaknesses to this man he knew was a seasoned, dangerous operative. But he was willing to just curl up next to him and let him watch over him. He'd never questioned the charm that had saved his life more than once.

"File huh? Ya been studyin' the X-men?"

"Who ain't?" Remy retorted and Wolverine snorted out a laugh, trying not to call Hank's attention to them.

Logan grinned. Wherever the Cajun had ended up in his memory he wasn't as depressed as usual. That was probably good for him. "Ya studyin' us fer a job?"

"Mebbe. That's Remy's secret non?" The Cajun winked. He prodded at the soup with his finger. He sighed. "This as dishwater as I'm t'inkin' it's gonna be?"



"Just eat it."

Remy stuck his tongue out at the Canadian. His muscles felt heavy. He blinked. "That sneaky connard."

"Conned ya with that antibiotics are good fer ya talk huh? Hank ain't out to hurt ya, but ya tend to sneak outta here on him."

Remy shrugged and took up the spoon. Logan raised his brows. He wasn't hiding the fact that he was a lefty. He really *didn't* remember whatever role he was playing for the team.

"What y' ain't seen me eat?" Remy asked. He made a face after the first spoonful and set the spoon back down. He nibbled on the bread. "Sorry, homme, I ain't eatin' that."

"Don't worry. Jean made it. She don't expect anyone to eat it. That's why she shoved it off on ya. Figured ya couldn't taste nothin'."

"Ain't no'tin' there t' taste," Remy pointed out.

Logan grinned and nodded. "Hell, kid, I think we got to introduce ya to Cyke soon. He'll trip out."



"Cyclops. Summers?"

"That's it."

Remy stared at him, bread forgotten. He shook his head. "Y' ain't serious."

"Yup." Logan grinned. "He ain't that uptight."

"I ain't talkin' t' y'r leader, homme."

"Yer leader too, kiddo."

Remy shook his head.

"Don't pull that shit with me, Gumbo." Logan threatened lightly. "I'll get ya some real food."

"You will give him nothing but clear broths, Logan," Hank stated from the doorway.

"But. . ." Remy protested. "M' stomach ain't botherin' m', M."

Hank looked down his nose at the thief and Remy shrank back, crossing his arms across his chest, lips arranging into a pout. "Don't bother. I do not give into pouts."

Logan snorted.

"Often," Hank amended with a shrug. "What can I say, he was looking bedraggled that day. I felt sorry for him."

Remy gave him puppy-dog eyes.

"Stop that immediately," Hank said, wagging his finger. "You are in a mood today aren't you, M. LeBeau. Very well. Perhaps Logan will find you something with taste." Hank shooed the Canadian
out. "Rest!" he ordered sternly.

Remy rolled his eyes. "I ain't tired." He yawned. "Much."

"Rest," Hank said more kindly. "Would you like a scientific journal to go to sleep by? I assure you most of my patients find them a laugh riot."

Remy shrugged. "Oui, merci."

Hank provided the journal and shut the door, confident that the young man would be asleep in minutes.


"No, Slim, ya gotta talk to him. He's a little fuzzy, but it's interestin'."


"Last thing he was talkin' about besides Jeannie's cookin', was that he didn't remember us as anythin' but files. Figure it might be bullshit, but ya can't tell. Ya gotta try it."

"Fine, I'll take him some of that instant soup."

"How do ya survive since neither of ya can cook?"

"Force Gambit into the kitchen."

"Ya ain't been bribin' him?"

"Of course I have." Scott looked offended. "It's only fair. It's called a trade-off. He gets out of a morning session or two and I have edible food to get me through the week."

"Shit. There's two of ya in the house and I didn't realize it."

Scott blinked. "What the fuck are you talking about now, Runt?"

"Nothin'. Just get downstairs and check on the thief. I gotta go raid the garden."


"Fer some catnip."



"You aren't going to explain that are you?"



Hank looked over his glasses. "Well, what have we here? Another delinquent to keep my patient from getting his rest?"

"Yes. But I brought something edible with me."

Remy wasn't asleep when Hank opened the door. "M. Bete? Y' got another one of these?"

"Of course. I've got several. I'll just leave them at your bedside, shall I?"

"Merci." Hank shook his head.

"He's all yours, Fearless Leader."

"Cut it, Blue." Scott set the tray down. "It's Lipton's not Summers. You should be safe. I can boil water at least."

Remy accepted the mug of chicken noodle soup. "Merci." He couldn't smell it, but it at least had some color to it. He sipped it and sighed. Scott sat down. "Ain't he t'reatenin' t' t'row y' out?" Remy asked.

"Hank? No. He knows better. So, spill, what's up between you and Wolverine?"

The Cajun blinked at him. "Sorry, homme, I ain't got a clue what y' talkin' on."

"You aren't serious about losing your memory are you?"

"Well, ain't like I'd know." Remy scowled. "Wolverine, he t'inks I'm an X-man. T'ink he's screwed in the head. But then, so's Chat. Might be part of that Weapon-X t'ing."

Scott cocked his head to the side. "Why don't you believe him?"

"Moi? Wit' de X-men?" Remy snorted. "Dat's pure on bullshit. Inventive bullshit, oui, but I ain't fallin' f' that. Better prison than I've ever been in, but come one, homme, y' don' expect Remy t'
buy int' this line do y'?"

Scott didn't know how to react. "You're either a hell of a lot better as an actor than I think, or you really *have* lost a year or two."

Gambit stared at the field leader of the X-men. He reached out with his charm, but he could sense no lie in the man, only rueful affection. He blinked slowly. "Y' really t'ink I'm an X-man? What y' been takin', Cyclops?"

"Oh, he's right. This is fun," Scott informed him. "Don't hold back, tell me exactly what you think."

"About what, cher?"

"The X-men. Give me your professional evaluation."

Gambit raised his brows. "This what y' want as pay off f' lettin' m' stay here?"

"Yep. Pay up, thief-boy."

"Least y'r honest, cher." Remy held out the mug to keep from spilling it as he started to cough.

Scott took the mug and handed him a tissue. "Cough it out and you'll get out of here faster."

Remy rolled his eyes.

"And I still can't get respect."

"From me? Non," Remy grinned. "Let's see, y' wanted an eval."

Scott nodded.

"Y'all are idiots. Y' security sucks. I seen the plans. It's a cake walk. An' y' depend on y'r spooks too much. There's plenty of ways 'round them too." Remy ticked off points in the air as he talked. "An' then there's y'r tactics. Sorry, cher, but they ain't the greatest. Go in, destroy shit, get out. That ain't no way t' get t'ings done."

"But fun," Scott pointed out.

"Oui," Remy agreed. "But y' want equality non? Ain't no one gonna be happy wit' y' destroyin' their property. Human, mutant, animal, don' matter. They want their homes, oui? That makes life worse f' the rest of us. Hard enough gettin' beat f' m' eyes. But people dey look at y', then they look at m' an' decide t' take it out on m' because y' went an' got someone hurt."

Scott filed that away for further reference.

"Not t' mention y' weaknesses ain't always made up by y' strengt's. Iceman's limited. He only does two or t'ree t'ings wit' his powers. And he ain't got not'in' else t' make up f' it. Wolverine, well, he a good point. Strong fighter, experienced, but he got so many false memories he don' know what's true. That can be used against him. An' he goes feral. Get Chat around him an' the two of them'll go off not carin' who they be wit'. Bete is too nice. He ain't a fighter. Storm, she ain't got control over her reactions yet. Get her closed in an' she's down. Ange is a flyer, but he ain't got a lot of fighter in him. Mystique's petite is schizophrenic. That makes her dangerous. Still one of y' better operatives. Nightcrawler, mais, teleporters are rare, but useful. Problem wit' him is guilt. Boy's Cat'olic. Know what dat's like, me." Remy shook his head. "Shadowcat, she's a bebe. Older'n m', but still un bebe. Collosus, he ain't a fighter an' Wheels should never've made him int' one. Phoenix," Remy shrugged. He tapped his temple. "She went an' killed a billion people. Don' matter if it was her body or not, in her mind dat's what she t'inks." Remy finished his soup. "Dat good 'nough f' y', cher?"

"It's food for thought. You have a team?" Scott asked idly.

Remy shrugged. "Mebbe. Ain't mine no more though. Gave it over t' someone wit' more experience. Boss don' mind that." Remy smirked. "Merde, he don' mind y' when it comes down t' it."

Scott looked at him. "Do I know this boss?"

Remy shrugged.

"That was helpful."

"Me tellin' on m' people ain't part of the deal, Cyke. Just gettin' me outta dis lab."

"When you're better. Oh, look, here comes Wolvie. Find the catnip?" Scott asked raising his brows. "Does it have some properties of which I am unaware?"

"We gotta get ya outta this lab before ya start talkin' more like Hank. Not fer normal people, no. But fer mutants who're more feline, yup."

Remy blinked. "Y' tryin' t' tell me Sabret'oot's here?"

"Nope." Logan grinned. "Only got one cat in the place right now."

Scott looked at him curiously. "What are you talking about?"

Remy's eyes widened. "Ain't catnip lavender?"


"Merde. Get dat man away from m'. He's y'r pup ain't he?" Remy snapped at Scott.

"Just a little sniff, Gumbo. Make ya sleep better'n Hank's potions."

Remy whimpered theatrically and tried to pull away. Logan smirked at him. He stuffed the pillow with the less fragrant form of the flower. Remy's shoulders dropped. Logan pushed him back against the pillow. The Cajun's eyes blurred. He shook it off, eyeing Cyclops suspiciously. Scott took the hint and left. Wolverine followed a moment later. "Kid's out, Hank."

"Good. What did you pull out of the woods this time?"

"Catnip. Ya can grow some down here with a lamp. Just ask Ro fer some seeds."


Remy rubbed his eyes. He felt drugged. Beast had been in to see him and started an IV for some reason. The thief couldn't bring himself to care. He clutched at his frog. His chest ached and he was too hot. He needed to cool down. He kicked off his blanket and his eyes drifted shut again.


Hank McCoy was a researcher as well as the team's medical doctor. Given that duality, he took what opportunities afforded to him when he had relatively stable patients at his mercy, ahem, under his care. He drew a vial of blood from the sleeping thief. He patted Remy's hair gently, then went to run his scans. Logan would be asleep soon and they'd be able to do the surgery. It took a lot to put Logan under. And he needed to be fully unconscious for this operation as it was likely to make him feral again.


Remy searched frantically for his frog. He could have sworn he'd put it under his pillow. He couldn't have lost it, not after so many years.


Logan cocked his head to the side, studying the pup. Spice looked at him and stilled, eyes wide. Logan peered under the bed and picked up the little green rag-toy. He offered it with a smile and
Spice pulled it close.


"Merci, Logan," Remy said, smiling shyly at the older man. He tucked the frog back into his shirt. His chest felt clear. He was just tired. Maybe Hank would let him go to his own room to rest for awhile. Remy stood up and wavered as the room spun. Logan simply pushed a hand against the thief's chest and shoved. Remy fell back across the bed with a scowl. "That weren't necessary!"

"Were you attempting to sneak out of my lab again, M. LeBeau?" Hank chided.

"Jus' wanted t' sleep in m' own bed." Remy pouted and Hank looked over his glasses at him until the red eyes rolled and the thief curled up on the bed. "Don' feel bad. Mais, Remy's tired, but that's all. Y' let him go t' his room, sil vous plait?"

"If you bat your lashes at me, I'll have you down here for another two days. Let me listen to your chest. Hmmm. I suppose you could go to your own room. But I would rather you stay near someone else. Until someone becomes available, you will stay here."

"Mebbe Logan'll stay wit' Remy?"


The pup was looking for Logan to intercede. Logan frowned sternly at him.


"T'ink that's a non." Remy settled in for a sulk. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Did you finish the journals?"


"Would you like me to bring you some others?"

Remy nodded. "Merci, Henri. Ain't read anyt'in' like that in years me. Why'd y' leave 'em wit' m'?"

Hank raised his brows. "I was offering them as a sleeping agent. You took to them much more readily than I expected."

Remy shrugged. "Can't spend all m' time readin' philosophy, non?" He winked. "An' y' ain't never read a manual f' a security system. Makes this lot practically stimulatin'."

Hank laughed good naturedly and gathered another pile of journals for the Cajun. When he returned Logan was resisting Remy's playful tugging on his arm. "Sil vous plait?" Remy whimpered. Logan sighed and climbed into the bed, letting Remy curl close to him. Hank
left the journals on the table.

"Get some rest, Remy." Hank nodded to Logan before closing the door.


The pup was calmer now that someone was next to him. Logan stroked the silky hair and frowned at the unusual scent. It smelled like Red's hair. He didn't like it. But the pup had been ill and that
probably explained it. The pup sighed and snuggled closer, resting his head against Logan's heart. Logan closed his eyes when Spice dropped off.


"Mornin'," Remy whispered as Logan blinked awake.

"Feelin' better?"

"Oui." Remy let his eyes slip closed and listened to Logan's steady heartbeat. "M. Henri says y' ain't gonna go feral no more."

"Least not from that piece of metal. Shoulda listened to ya."

"Oui, y' should have. No body in this house listens t' m'."

"That's bullshit."

"Oui. Just feelin' sorry f' m'self t'day. Mais, y' stay wit' Remy? Be his babysitter 'til Henri say Remy be fine again?"

Logan nodded. "Sure, kiddo. Ya need to sleep some more."

"Gotta go first."

"I'll go track down Blue."

Remy made his way to the bathroom. His stomach gurgled at him. He needed something to eat that wasn't made by a Summers. Something *edible* would be nice for a change. He contemplated what he could make and then realized that there was a strange weight to his limbs. He just wanted to curl back up in bed. The feeling scared him more than the pressure in his chest had. He hated feeling weak. He made his way back towards the bed and settled at the edge of it.
Scott knocked on the doorframe. He held up a paper bag.

"I didn't make it," he offered. "I got it from that place you take Ro all the time in Salem Center. Thought you'd like some real food."

"Merci, Cyke."

"You have to answer one question first."

Gambit looked warily at the field leader.

"Who did you work for before you came here? And don't feed me any bullshit line about working for yourself. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

The thief shivered. "Merde. Anyt'in' I said when I had a fever don' count."


The bright red eyes snapped to Scott's face.

"Yes, I know your name. Now answer the question."

Remy swallowed. He licked his lips. Scott merely waited. He had a theory or three, but he wanted confirmation. "M. Essex."



"And your team would be the Marauders."


Scott closed his eyes. "Here."

"Last meal of de condemned?"

"No. We'll talk later. Just be good, Gambit. Don't contradict Hank."

"Oui, M. Scott." Scott shut the door behind himself to give the Cajun some time to deal with letting go of a secret. He smirked to himself. //Jean, you owe me.//

//Shut up, Slim.//

//Never. That's twenty bucks and you with a white streak.//


//So? That's why you like me. Besides, Ro will like it too. I know, you could dye it green to match your eyes.//

//There's an idea.//


Remy peered into the bag and for the first time in over a week he smelled spices. His mouth watered. He took out the container and fork. Should he wait or just eat it? The smell was too inticing. He nibbled at the jambalya, testing his stomach. It was good and his stomach hadn't revolted. He savored the treat while Hank and Logan discussed his fate. He wondered idly what Scott planned to do with his new piece of information. He tried to remember what he'd read in
the journals. It was harder than it should have been and he skimmed over the titles again. He stopped as he recognized one of Sinister's aliases, then another. His food lay abandoned while he poured over the articles. He just made it to the toilet when he started to heave.


"Oh, God." Logan rubbed the young man's back in small circles. "You okay, Gumbo?"

Remy nodded. "Too much food I'm guessin'."

"Stop lyin', Remy."

Remy shied away from the gentle touch. Logan frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Ask Cyke." Remy pushed himself to his feet and flushed the toilet. Logan watched him in bewilderment as the thief gathered his clothes and shoes and went up the stairs leaving his lunch forgotten on the tray. He'd taken one of the journals with him too and Logan assumed he was in the middle of something.

"Well, shit," he muttered as the Cajun slipped out of the lab. He had to hunt himself a field leader.


"What the fuck's wrong with the Cajun, Cyke?"

Scott looked up from his book with a start. He stared at the Canadian while he got his heart-rate back down. Damn the man was silent. "He didn't like lunch? I asked Ro what his favorite was and everything."

"It's not the food. He was too shook up to eat."

Scott sighed. "I'll go talk to him. Don't worry. He'll just need a little reassurance." He frowned. "Do we have honey?"

"How should I know? Well, yeah, we do. Gonna make coffee? May as well just poison the boy."

"Up yours, Runt." Scott marked his place.


Gambit looked up in surprise when there was a knock at the door. Logan just opened it and stuck his head in. And Stormy didn't bother to knock either. She had no shame and figured that Remy didn't either. "Oui?"

"Can I come in?"

What did Scott want? "Entrez."

"Hear I owe you lunch." Scott leaned against the wall just inside the door. "I didn't think it would shake you up so much. No one here has a right to throw stones. Hell, Rogue's mother is Mystique." Scott shrugged. "Everyone has a past." Scott crossed the room. Remy was fully dressed, but he looked worn. Getting dressed had taken a lot out of him.

"Weren't that really. Just saw his name in one of them journals. Mais, shouldn't have read it. I remember where he got that stuff. Weren't no rat he was workin' on neither!" Remy pulled his
knees up to his chest. "Gambit got t' dispose of the body too. F' that he gets put on the article." Remy snorted. "Y' really want t' know what the man be up t'? Look f' Etienne Montgomery. Y' see plenty of his work dat way."

"How long were you working with him?"

"*For* him, M. Scott. Owed him me. Spent mebbe two years wit' him."

Scott sat down at the foot of the bed. "Why?" His voice was soft.

Remy buried his face. It was a very long time before he spoke. "M' powers."

The field leader looked down at the floor. If only they'd gotten there first. God damn it all.

"Don' go borrowin' trouble."


"Y' gettin' that guilt frown. Don' do no good f' y' t' feel guilty over Gambit's decisions."

"It isn't a decision if you don't have options."

"Had an option."



"That's not an option."

"Oui, but it made y' smile. Y' look so old when y' frown."

"Does that matter?"

Remy shrugged.

"And the team. Why hire Sabretooth?"

"Why not?" Remy frowned. "He's a pro."

"And you hate him."

Remy rolled his eyes. "He's a pro, Scott. He don' let personal feelings interfere wit' work. An' don' be tellin' Remy y' believe that line of bullshit he fed Rogue."

Scott tipped his head to the side. "It sounded so much like your life that I assumed it was true."

Remy snorted. "Stolt the damn necklace, but he don' work in that area. Creed's a killer and a spy, mon ami. He don' steal shit. He wants t' steal somet'in' he hires me."

"You stole the necklace for him?"

"An' he tried t' get away wit' not payin' me." Remy frowned. "Burnt his balls f' dat. Then, M. Chat tried t' fuck m'. Connard."

"Lover's spat?"

"Not hardly. He ain' m' type."

"And who is? Logan? Not a lot of difference."

"Bullshit, cher. Plenty of difference. 'Cept f' Logan wantin' y'r ass."

Scott laughed. "Christ. You are *blind*."

"Y' t'ink? Ain't y' caught him checkin' out y'r ass? An' he gets mighty protective of y'."

"I'm not the only one he gets protective of," Scott pointed out. "I think your missing something that's right under your nose."

"He ain't interested. He t'inks Remy's a kid."

"Gumbo, he calls *Charles* kid sometimes."

"He's old enough t' be m' grandpere."

"So what? He doesn't look it. It's not like he's Magneto or something."

"Bite y' tongue!"

"Why? It's true. Unless that's the problem. Are you lusting after Mags?" Scott raised his brows. He received the expected and hoped for smack with a pillow.

"Y' a sick, sick, puppy."

"You have no idea. And you need to eat. Shall I make Logan bring you something?"

"Don' bother."

"Hank doesn't want you alone. He didn't want to you escape the lab without a sitter."

"An' y' just fillin' time?"

"Nope. Logan came and bawled me out because he thinks I made you sick. I'll just tell him Sinister made you sick and have him claw the asshole."

"Non, that don' work. Creed tried. Merde, Remy tried. He just laughs it off. Need t' break him down t' particles or somet'in'."

Remy sighed. "But I don' rightly know if I want t'. He. . ." Remy paused. "Mais, he say he knows who m' parents are."

Scott was instantly alert. "But I thought Jean-Luc was your father?"

Remy shrugged. "He is. He took m' off the streets when I was a pup and raised m' up. But he ain't m' blood pere. Tante made him get tests done t' make sure. Ain't even close t' his blood-kin."

"I'll have Hank run your DNA against our database. Maybe there's a match. But even if there isn't, it isn't blood that counts."

Remy nodded. "Know dat in m' heart, but dere's doubt in m' head. It's like dere's somet'in' real important 'bout it, but I don' know what. Seen plenty of people that don' get on wit' their blood half as good as I get on wit' Jean-Luc, Mattie, an' Henri an' Mercy."


"M' sister-in-law."

"So there's three members of your family we have to meet. Are you going home for Christmas?"

"Can't. Banished me."

"Banished?" Scott's jaw dropped. "I thought the Romeo and Juliet ended with you leaving after the wedding."

"Non, left because of the banishment." Remy shrugged. "Life ain't fair. I'm stayin' here, in the frozen Hell y'all call winter. Mebbe I'll go t' Arizona. Too much sun an' not enough plants. Mebbe Florida."

"Stay here. Jean wants to drag me to her parent's for Christmas and I need an excuse to stay home."

"And how's me bein' here an excuse t' get out of y'r boyfriend duties?"

"Someone needs to keep an eye on you and everyone knows Logan's too sweet on you to do a good job."

"Logan ain't sweet on m'."

"He is."




"I refuse to argue like a toddler. Just ask him."

"No fuckin' way. Y' t'ink I want his claws in m' gut?" Remy's eyes were wide.

"He's not going to hurt you. Hell, he wouldn't leave the lab while you were there. Think about it, you're the only one who can really get through to him when he's feral. He won't hurt you."

"Wouldn't hurt y' neither. Not anyone in dis place. Not countin' Rogue. An' he didn' hurt her, just t'reatened. Argument don't hold."

"He gets a hard on when you fight with him."

Remy waved that off. "He likes fightin'. That ain't unusual.

Gives him a rush."

Scott sighed. "Fine. Give me some time. I didn't think I'd have to talk you into this. I know, I'll just send Jean up after you."

"Ha. Ha. Funny."

"That woman's a troublemaker, but useful. She'll get you two together."

"Don't y' fuckin' dare, cher!"

Scott smirked.


"Am not."

"Y' are. Y' papa just ain't got the balls t' tell y'. Y' really belong t' Magneto. Dat's why Charles done took y' in."

Scott made a gagging noise. "Brat. That is just plain sick. I can't be Wanda's brother. It's just wrong."

Remy smirked.


"Oui. Merci, Cyke."

"Get some rest. I'll send Logan up with tea."


"How's the kid?"


"I'll go sit with him since Blue don't want him sulkin' up there alone."

"If you're nice, I won't even tell him you left the Cajun leave alone."

"Ain't my fault the kid's fast."

"But you didn't follow him up the stairs." Scott leaned against the kitchen counter. "And why is that? Besides the fact that he was upset. Why didn't you just try to get the story out of him?"

"Kid don't like me pushin' him."

"So what? Neither do I and you always do."

"Ain't the same with him. Ain't my place."

"Why the fuck not?" Scott stared at Logan. "Oh, don't even give me that look, asshole. You've been in love with the brat for almost half a year. I know it and you know it. I know that's why you
let him walk into the middle of your den when you were feral. That's why you made sure he was safe. That's why you force him to fight you and brush up on skills. That's why you drag him with you on assignments that the professor gave to you to do alone. That's why you stay up late at night waiting to hear his bike come back. Admit it. It will make your life easier."


"And I have an inside track."

"That little bitch."

"Yeah. Got lots of nice shit to hang over people's head. I'm just a born blackmailer. So you admit it?"

"Yeah. Yeah. Go fuck yerself, Cyke."

"Not my style."

Logan raised his brow. "Well, since ya ain't doin' Jeannie at the moment."

"Says who?" Scott grinned. "Just because she's sleeping with Ro, doesn't mean I'm out of the bed."

Logan's jaw dropped.

"You are *so* easy."

"Watch that mouth of yers, Slim."

"And *why* is my patient not being watched?" Hank growled from the doorway.

"I was just takin' this up to him, but Scotty here insists on talkin' to me."

Scott gaped. "You lying little shit!"

Logan smirked and left the room.

"I'll get you for this!"

"Try it!"


"Hey, kiddo."

"Hey, Ole Man."

"Brought ya some tea."


"Ya wanna give me some room?"

"Mebbe Remy don' want y' on the bed."


"Said 'mebbe.'" Remy scooted over and let Logan settle next to him. Logan handed him the warm mug.

"I'm glad yer feelin' better."


"What made ya throw up, kid?"

"Fuck off, Logan." It was said without rancor, but Logan took the hint.

He settled his arm around the younger man's shoulders and the Cajun settled closer, eyes drooping. He was putting on a good show, but he was still tired. Logan could smell it on his skin. "Y' better leave now, cuz this po' boy is done in."

"Ya've fallen asleep against me before. Ain't like I mind it none."

Remy settled close, soaking in the gentle acceptance that he thought of as pure Logan. He didn't notice when the Canadian took the mug out of his hands or the ponytail holder out of his hair. Logan wouldn't hurt him and that was an unasalable fact of life. Remy caught on to Logan's hand when he tried to leave and Logan looked down with a gentle smile. He settled back onto the bed and stroked the long-fingered hand. When he was sure the Cajun was deep asleep he brushed his lips over those fingers. He held Remy's hand for a very long time.


Hank looked into Remy's room with a smile. Remy was curled up against Logan's side and the Canadian was trailing gentle fingers down the young man's arm. Hank adjusted his glasses. It was a shame to have to interrupt the scene. He cleared his throat and Logan looked up. The Canadian scowled. Hank held up the thermometer strip.

Logan let him set it on Remy's brow. The Cajun stirred. "Hush, kiddo. Go back to sleep."

Hank's smile grew. There were such endless possibilities to tease Logan with for this. But he didn't want to disturb his patient.

He took Remy's pulse carefully. He kept his voice low. "He's over the danger point. He should be fine from here on out. He just needs to rest. Don't let him do his usual routine. He won't be able to breathe if he tries it. And make sure he eats something for God's sake."

Logan gave Hank a little salute. Remy frowned in his sleep.

"Hush," Logan said softly.

Hank cocked his head to the side. "I didn't realize your feelings were so intense, Logan."

Logan shrugged. "Ain't intense as much as. . . pervasive."

"And your feelings for Scott?"

"Ain't gone."

Hank nodded. "Quite a dilemma you have."

Logan shook his head. "Nope. Remy needs me," the Canadian said softly. Hank closed his eyes.

"He won't appreciate you breaking your heart."

"I'm not. But I'm not actin' on it."

Hank nodded. Remy roused at the hint of sadness. "M. Henri?" he murmured looking at the doctor with sleepy eyes.

"Go to sleep, Remy. I'm fine."

Remy frowned, but his eyes closed again.

Logan nodded once at Hank. Hank smiled and left them.


Scott was still in the kitchen trying to assemble something that looked like dinner. He looked up as the doctor came in. "What's up, Blue?"



"It's not something I feel comfortable discussing with you."

"Ah, Logan and Remy."

Hank's eyes widened.

"I'm not the leader of this merry band of misfits for nothing. I know the runt's in love with the thief and I know it goes the other way too. And I know that both of them are too fucking noble or scared or something to admit to it." Scott shrugged. His brow furrowed. "Hank?"

"I wasn't sure you knew."

"Hank, this is me. I'm not Warren." A thought struck. "Did you think I'd be jealous?" Scott's jaw opened as the doctor nodded. "Goddess, Hank, I'm not that fucking narrow."


"Earth to Blue, who do you think has been trying to set them up for almost a year."

"But Remy was with Rogue."


"They were in a committed relationship."

"No, Remy was in a committed relationship. Rogue never was. Oh, I'm sure they're friends, but that woman doesn't have the emotional maturity of a blueberry muffin."


"What? I'm not supposed to speak my mind? Oh that's right, Charles is home. Time for Scott to be perfect again."

"I think we should discuss your caffiene intake."

Scott rolled his eyes. "Go fuck Bobby or something."

"To quote the darling Jubilation, 'as if.'"

"What? You two are perfect for each other."

"I'd kill him in a weekend."



Scott looked up from the lettuce. "Yes, Hank?"

"Doctor's orders. Fuck yourself into next week."

Hank left as Scott stared open mouthed at his back.



"Yeah, kid?"

"Y' really love m'?"

Logan looked down. "Ya were supposed to be sleepin'."

"Just tell m'."

"Yeah, I do. Ya got a problem with it?"

"Non, just wonderin' if that's why y' went scarin' Roguie off?"

"Naw, woman don't smell right."

Remy snickered. "So where we gonna go wit' dis?"

"It ain't gonna change nothin'."

"What if I want it to?" Remy looked up at Logan through his bangs.

Logan looked down in surprise. "I ain't gonna play games. If ya don't love me, ferget it."

"Logan, y' a fool. Love ain't always got t' be all about sparkin'. Love m' wife well enough, but we was best friends first. I love y', but I t'ought y' were after Scotty and Jean."

"I ain't gonna lie. I still love Cyke. I love Jeannie, but she ain't interested in men."

Remy snorted. "She likes Scotty well enough. She just likes Ro more."

"How long ya known about them two?"

"Since the first night."

Logan tweaked the Cajun's nose. "Why didn't ya tell me?"

"Cuz Stormy don' like people knowin' her business."

"But she tells you?"

"I ain't a gossip like the rest the ole ladies in dis house.

Merde, dey drive m' crazy. 'Did you see what Bobby was wearing?' Y'd t'ink they was at a sewin' bee or somet'in'."

"Been to some, I gather?"

"Tante dragged m' t' a couple when I was a pup. Weren't no one else t' look after dis po boy."

"Oh stop with the eyes already. Ya got me wrapped around yer finger already and ya know it."

"Oui." Remy's smile was smug. "But dis is real nice, Logan. Love it like dis. No one botherin' us. No mutant t'reats t' be lookin' f'."

"So where we goin', kid? I'm flyin' blind here."

"Figured we'd be lovers, if y' like."

"I like that idea." Logan hugged the young man closer. "Can I kiss ya?"

"If y' want."

Logan carefully tipped the Cajun's head to the side and leaned over to kiss him softly on the lips.

"That ain't it?" Remy pouted.

"That's all yer getting till Hank tells me yer fine."

"Connard." Remy was ambushed by a yawn. "Y' gonna stay t'night right?"

"I'll be here as long as ya need me, kid."


"Get some rest."


Charles Xavier was not a patient man. He didn't deal well with being stonewalled. Scott had learned that when he'd first moved in with the professor. He'd used it to his advantage ever since.
"Stop playing me for a fool, Scott."
"What are you talking about, sir?" Scott's tone was slightly injured. Xavier looked down his nose at the field leader. Scott's shields were getting better and Charles had no reason to pry, but there was something going on.

"What is going on?"

Scott considered. "We're having a discussion about the current movement for mutant registrations that is being hyped up by some assholes from the moderate position that don't like the idea that there are people with advantageous mutations that are not regulated by the government."

"Scott, you know what I mean. What is happening in this house?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't play this game with me, young man."

"What game, sir?"

Xavier took a deep breath. "What new developments are there in this house?"

"Gambit has been released from the med-lab, but only under supervision. Logan is watching over him. That's all I can think of."

"All you can think of? That's it? Then what has the air practically buzzing with anticipation?"




"When you decide to be reasonable, come see me. Until then."

Xavier made a shooing motion and Scott got up to leave. There was the barest hint of a smile on the Alaskan's lips. Xavier's eyes narrowed. "Are you certain there is nothing else?"

"Everyone is waiting for the shoe to drop. There hasn't been anything except routine pick-ups since the Marauders attacked. We're just *not* fighting for our lives. Relax and enjoy it. Fantasize
about Mags or something."

"Scott Summers!"

Scott looked at Xavier with his most innocent face. "Sir."

"Just go."

"Yes, sir."

Scott closed the door carefully behind him. He made it all the way to the kitchen before the smile grew into a smirk and he laughed.


Remy snuggled more firmly into his pillow. It grunted. The crimson eyes blinked open. "Desole, cher."

Logan shrugged. "Gonna get ya some dinner. Don't go anywhere."

"M' own servant. I like dis."

Logan shook his head. "Stay in bed or Hank'll be pissed."

"Oui, M." Remy rolled his eyes. Logan tucked him into bed.


"Woof. Woof."



"Be back in a sec." Logan went downstairs to rummage in the kitchen. Remy stretched. He didn't really want to stay in bed. He had to pee anyway. He made his way to the bathroom, then decided to take off his sweatshirt. He was feeling too warm. "Get yer ass back into bed, Gumbo," Logan growled. Remy pouted, but did as he was told. Logan tucked the blanket around him.

"Y' don't gotta fuss like this."

"Never had the chance to fuss over ya before." Logan smelled Ororo's light perfume before he heard her laugh.

"I see someone else has been tricked into thief-sitting."

Logan smiled at her. Remy stuck his tongue out. "Hey, Darlin'. Call me when yer done lecturin' him."

"Who said I was going to lecture him?" she asked innocently.

Logan just shook his head and went out.

Remy pouted at his Stormy.

"Brother, I am not taken in by that look."

"Ah well, had t' try me." He settled back against the headboard and Storm settled at the foot of the bed.

"Is there something you want to tell me, brother?"



"Oui, petite." He yawned. "Henri says Remy'll be just fine wit' some rest. An' Logan decided t' be m' sitter f' the night."

"Oh?" She leaned forward. "You like that idea?"

Remy blushed. "Y' know m', Stormy."

"And your crushes," she stated. "And I think even Rogue knew about your crush on Logan, despite your attempts to keep her here when he went feral."

Remy dropped his face to his hands. He looked so terribly young that Ororo had to reach out for him. "Oui, probably. Love her too."

"I know that." She settled her hand on his. "Are you happy with this?"


"Logan has feelings for you."

"I know."

"It's not your charm, Remy. It's real."


"Remy Etienne LeBeau, listen to me." His eyes snapped up to meet hers. "You cannot make someone love you. You can make them lust after you, but you cannot make them love you."

"I hear y', chere." Remy's voice was small. Ororo stroked the back of his hand with her thumb.

"It's real, Remy."

He smiled at her. "Oui, chere, t'ink it is. But he don' know


"Neither do I, padnat, but I know your heart is true."

"Merci, petite." He kissed her palm. She kissed his forehead.

"Don't over-think this, brother. Let your heart rule you for a few days at least."

"Stormy, y' know what happens when I don' t'ink a lot."

Remy's distress was real. "People get hurt. Don' t'ink so clear as I used t'."

"Remy, it's okay. Logan isn't going to rush you into anything. But don't try to push him away. Take this time to learn more about him. Lean on his strength. You don't have to do everything alone."

"Oui, chere, I do." Remy looked at the journal on his bedside table. "The t'ings y' don't know about m' ain't pretty."

"Remy, brother, I would love you no matter what you had done." Remy snorted. "I did not say that I would not get angry at you, or zap you, merely that I would love you. Even if I discovered that you were a cold-blooded killer, I would love the man you are today."

Remy felt tears pricking at his eyes. "Ah, petite. I wish y' knew what y' were promising. It ain't gonna be possible f' y' t' know my past and keep t' that."

"You are wrong, Remy. Even on the days that I do not like you. Or those darkest moments when I hate you for drawing me back into a life I had left behind, I love you. My own guilt, my own anger, are not yours to accept or deny. You feel my heart, Remy, but you do not control it. I don't believe your charm is that powerful, my dearest friend. And I think that your memories are clouded by a
perception of guilt that is not yours to take on. Let him love you, without reservation. Let me do the same. I already know you love me even on my darkest days, despite the tributes I stole from my people and the people I hurt in my anger. I know that as certainly as a flower turns to the sun."

She looked into Remy's eyes. She saw the tears swimming there and knew that she had gone as far as she could. Remy hated to show his weakness, for anyone knew how deeply he felt things, how easily he was hurt. She knew for a fact that a cross word from Jean could reduce him to a little boy at least for as long as it took for his pout to soften her heart. She knew too that a dressing down from Scott left him shattered for longer than his cocky smile showed. She was the one who had to coax him off of the roof when another fight left him spiraling into depression, or his guilt started to infect his reasoning. She also thought she knew his darkest secret, his shame, despite the fact that he had never told her. She had followed him into the Morlock tunnels once and seen him light candles for the dead.

"Rest, Remy. We'll talk when you're stronger."

He bowed his head, not agreeing, but not fighting either. She squeezed his hand and left him.

Logan was waiting for her. She closed the door behind herself and blocked it with her body. Logan frowned at her, not even hearing the growl building in his chest. She looked down her nose at him. "Don't growl at me, Logan."

"Then get out of my way, Ro. Boy ain't supposed to be alone."

"I want to know what your intentions towards Remy are."

Logan stared at her. "I ain't gonna hurt him. Let me by."


"I intend to love him 'til one of us dies."

"Don't push him, Logan. He's not as strong as he wants you to believe."

"Ro, I ain't gonna do anythin' he ain't ready for."

"That is not what I mean. He can't believe that you will love him unconditionally. He has never had someone who does."

"Ro? What are ya tellin' me?"

"He has very bad things in his past."

"I've held him durin' nightmares, Ro. I know it ain't pretty, but I ain't that much of a prize myself."

"Let him know. Make him believe that you will always love him. Do not shut him out. Do not shame him."

"I'll be careful with him," Logan promised. He moved her aside gently and stepped inside.

"Stormy lecture y', cher?" Remy asked with a smirk. Logan could smell the salt of tears.

"She bother ya, Cajun?"

"She's my sister."

"I ain't attackin' her." Logan held out a bag of chocolates.

Remy stared at them.

"Henri okay sweets?"

"Said ya needed to gain some weight."

"Oh, cher, y' too good f' me."

"Never." Logan leaned down and kissed him softly. "Love ya, kiddo."

"Je t'amie, Logan. How y' want t' place this?" Remy asked as he unwrapped a Hershey's kiss.

"What are ya talkin' about?"

"Wit' them. Y' want t' keep it under wraps?"

"Nope. If they can't take it, I'll claw 'em."

Logan settled down and Remy snuggled against him. "Merci, cher."

"Yer welcome, Darlin'," Logan whispered softly. "Yer mine."

Remy's eyes drifted shut as he listened to Logan's heartbeat.