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xantissaFull fiction archive here
Title: Tell me (…what do you see, when you look at me?)
Author: Xantissa
Pairing: Logan/Remy
Warnings: NC-17
Summary: Unofficial continuation to “The Dance” by Mac O’Roni. Remy died due to injuries suffered during one of the x-men missions. Now, six months later a young man that looks incredibly like him shows up on the Mansion footstep.
08-01-2005
Title: Tell me (…what do you see, when you look at me?)
Author: Xantissa
Pairing: Logan/Remy
Warnings: NC-17
Summary: Unofficial continuation to “The Dance” by Mac O’Roni. Remy died due to injuries suffered during one of the x-men missions. Now, six months later a young man that looks incredibly like him shows up on the Mansion footstep.
08-01-2005
Lyrics: Desert Rose - Sting
Prologue
“I dream of rain
I dream of gardens in the desert sand
I wake in pain
I dream of love as time runs through my hand”
Somewhere in New York
“I can’t…” A young woman with short, silvery blond hair shook her head in denial.
A man, about thirty something, looked out of a nearby window.
“Ishtar… you owe her… you owe her a lot. You will do it.”
“But Michael, it’s craziness! She is dead! You can not bring her back!”
The man turned away from the window and looked at Ishtar. Once very handsome, he was now a mere shadow of a man. His eyes were dark and dead and they peered from a gaunt, ashen face.
“I know enough about your magic to be able to perform the ritual by myself. However, I know also that I need you to be my back up. And you will do it.”
“Michael…”
The man didn’t move, he just pierced her with his dead, steady stare. His eyes had always been cold, but were now terrifying in their emptiness.
“You don’t seem to understand Ishtar. I will do ANYTHING to have Dominique back. Even if I have to go to Hell and back. Prepare everything for the ritual… it will happen today.”
The young woman shivered, sensing the aura of power around him. Dominique was beloved by a demon of unearthly powers. He lived inside her soul, protecting her and feeding on her love. When she was forced to undergo the exorcism, Michael’s doing, the demon left her part of his powers, but there was one condition to his departure. That the woman would have another protector… and he chose Michael. Even now, since the mark had been burned on Michael’s arm that terrifying night, it still emanated power that she could feel. Looking at his tense figure, she wondered just how much of the demon was speaking through him. And he was right, she could not refuse. Dominique saved her life and she had a debt to pay.
“There can be… problems. You can not just summon a dead person back, Michael. You can seriously disturb the balance…”
“ Ishtar… I don’t care! Go!”
With a sigh, the woman left the apartment. She had to buy some things.
“I dream of fire
Those dreams are tied to a horse that will never tire
And in the flames
Her shadows play in the shape of a man's desire”
Michael didn’t look back at her. When he heard the door close, he took his shirt off and looked at the lightly glowing mark on his arm. It hurt, but he didn’t mind. He had failed to protect Dominique, but he was going to make it right.
The mark glowed with a cold, red light and then faded again. He had to prepare himself for the night…
* * *
“This desert rose
Each of her veils, a secret promise
This desert flower
No sweet perfume ever tortured me more than this”
Hurt.
His body hurt, his skin was on fire.
Confusion.
He didn’t know where he was. His eyes were tightly shut against the unbearable pain.
Cold.
God, he was cold. His flesh burned with an inferno that was so hot, it froze him from the inside out. Now. It was deeper, as if his very self was frozen to death.
Wet.
He could hear the rain, thundering in his ears like a flood, hurting him even more. His inflamed skin sent shock of agony each time a drop of rain hit his sensitive skin.
Fear.
He didn’t know why, but he was afraid. So incredibly afraid. He sensed that something was wrong, that he shouldn’t be feeling this, but his head hurt too much to open eyes.
He curled on the pavement into a tight ball, vaguely aware of the scrape of the harsh pavement on his naked shoulders, but it didn’t matter… he just wanted the pain and fear to go way.
Who was he? What happened? Where was he?
He didn’t know.
* * *
“And as she turns
This way she moves in the logic of all my dreams
This fire burns
I realize that nothing's as it seems”
Michael shakily stood up and went to the unmoving Ishtar on the floor. She passed out during the ritual but her pulse was fine.
Feeling weak as a newborn himself, he had to use a wall to support himself. His apartment looked as if nothing extraordinary happened, it only smelled of incense. He used the back of his hand to wipe away the blood still dripping from his nose. Finally, he reached the fireplace and gratefully sank to his knees in front of it.
“Show… me…” He rasped, barely able to force these words from his sore throat.
Suddenly the calm, extinguished fireplace came to life. Roaring and sparkling; a fire shot towards him threatening to consume him, but the red flames licked and kissed him, leaving only a vague sense of warmth.
He smiled the smile of a madman, full of desperation and longing.
“I will find you… even in Hell…”
“I dream of rain
I dream of gardens in the desert sand
I wake in pain”
tbc
Prologue
“I dream of rain
I dream of gardens in the desert sand
I wake in pain
I dream of love as time runs through my hand”
Somewhere in New York
“I can’t…” A young woman with short, silvery blond hair shook her head in denial.
A man, about thirty something, looked out of a nearby window.
“Ishtar… you owe her… you owe her a lot. You will do it.”
“But Michael, it’s craziness! She is dead! You can not bring her back!”
The man turned away from the window and looked at Ishtar. Once very handsome, he was now a mere shadow of a man. His eyes were dark and dead and they peered from a gaunt, ashen face.
“I know enough about your magic to be able to perform the ritual by myself. However, I know also that I need you to be my back up. And you will do it.”
“Michael…”
The man didn’t move, he just pierced her with his dead, steady stare. His eyes had always been cold, but were now terrifying in their emptiness.
“You don’t seem to understand Ishtar. I will do ANYTHING to have Dominique back. Even if I have to go to Hell and back. Prepare everything for the ritual… it will happen today.”
The young woman shivered, sensing the aura of power around him. Dominique was beloved by a demon of unearthly powers. He lived inside her soul, protecting her and feeding on her love. When she was forced to undergo the exorcism, Michael’s doing, the demon left her part of his powers, but there was one condition to his departure. That the woman would have another protector… and he chose Michael. Even now, since the mark had been burned on Michael’s arm that terrifying night, it still emanated power that she could feel. Looking at his tense figure, she wondered just how much of the demon was speaking through him. And he was right, she could not refuse. Dominique saved her life and she had a debt to pay.
“There can be… problems. You can not just summon a dead person back, Michael. You can seriously disturb the balance…”
“ Ishtar… I don’t care! Go!”
With a sigh, the woman left the apartment. She had to buy some things.
“I dream of fire
Those dreams are tied to a horse that will never tire
And in the flames
Her shadows play in the shape of a man's desire”
Michael didn’t look back at her. When he heard the door close, he took his shirt off and looked at the lightly glowing mark on his arm. It hurt, but he didn’t mind. He had failed to protect Dominique, but he was going to make it right.
The mark glowed with a cold, red light and then faded again. He had to prepare himself for the night…
* * *
“This desert rose
Each of her veils, a secret promise
This desert flower
No sweet perfume ever tortured me more than this”
Hurt.
His body hurt, his skin was on fire.
Confusion.
He didn’t know where he was. His eyes were tightly shut against the unbearable pain.
Cold.
God, he was cold. His flesh burned with an inferno that was so hot, it froze him from the inside out. Now. It was deeper, as if his very self was frozen to death.
Wet.
He could hear the rain, thundering in his ears like a flood, hurting him even more. His inflamed skin sent shock of agony each time a drop of rain hit his sensitive skin.
Fear.
He didn’t know why, but he was afraid. So incredibly afraid. He sensed that something was wrong, that he shouldn’t be feeling this, but his head hurt too much to open eyes.
He curled on the pavement into a tight ball, vaguely aware of the scrape of the harsh pavement on his naked shoulders, but it didn’t matter… he just wanted the pain and fear to go way.
Who was he? What happened? Where was he?
He didn’t know.
* * *
“And as she turns
This way she moves in the logic of all my dreams
This fire burns
I realize that nothing's as it seems”
Michael shakily stood up and went to the unmoving Ishtar on the floor. She passed out during the ritual but her pulse was fine.
Feeling weak as a newborn himself, he had to use a wall to support himself. His apartment looked as if nothing extraordinary happened, it only smelled of incense. He used the back of his hand to wipe away the blood still dripping from his nose. Finally, he reached the fireplace and gratefully sank to his knees in front of it.
“Show… me…” He rasped, barely able to force these words from his sore throat.
Suddenly the calm, extinguished fireplace came to life. Roaring and sparkling; a fire shot towards him threatening to consume him, but the red flames licked and kissed him, leaving only a vague sense of warmth.
He smiled the smile of a madman, full of desperation and longing.
“I will find you… even in Hell…”
“I dream of rain
I dream of gardens in the desert sand
I wake in pain”
tbc
