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xantissaFull fiction archive here
Title: Tell 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
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
Chapter 1
The only sound in the small room was the constant clicking of the keyboard where Dr. Hank MacCoy ordered the computer to run the DNA test for the sixth time this evening.
The deadly silence in the room was caused not only by his incredible concentration, but also by the incredible storm raging outside. Most of the power had been cut off, only the lab and Cerebro were running on the emergency generators.
Hank pushed the glasses higher on his nose and watched the screen change and the final effect being displayed.
DNA match: 100%
Hank sighed and took his glasses off, massaging the bridge of his nose with thick, blue fingers.
It wasn’t possible. It just was not possible.
The blue doctor stood up and slowly made his way to the glass wall separating his small office from the infirmary, and looked at the figure curled on one of the beds.
He closed his eyes, remembering what had happened that evening.
He was alone. Professor, Jean and Scott were in Washington on some kind of important conference. Warren, Bobby and Rogue on Moira Island and Storm was visiting Africa.
Logan left the x-men after Remy’s funeral. Professor said that he was still somewhere in the vicinity of the Mansion, but he was no longer part of the team. In fact no one had seen him, nor spoken to him in the six months since Remy had been buried.
The rain that had started the night before was intensifying, leaving the Earth cold, wet and unwelcome. The sense of melancholy haunted Hank the whole day. He thought that it was probably because of the emptiness in the place where usually there was so much activity. And, he had to admit, he missed the Cajun. No one had really appreciated the young thief until it was too late.
The phone call from his old friend, Anne Luckas, a doctor in one of New York’s hospitals was a welcome intrusion.
But her words were more than shocking.
“ … I believe that we have one of your friends here at the emergency…” She spoke calmly, not wanting to cause any panic in case she was wrong… or right.
Hank’s mind spun. Anne had met some of the x-men but she didn’t know that they were the “mutant terrorists”, so Hank tried to remember just who was introduced to the doctor. Logan, Jean, Scott and Remy. Jean and Scott were now in Washington and Remy was dead. It left only Logan. Was the man hurt? Why would he be in the hospital? Had something happened with his healing factor?
“What happened? Who is it?” Asked Hank urgently.
“I dodn’t know what happened. The police found him half naked in some kind of alley. He is weak and has a case of complete amnesia. He doesn’t know who or where he is.”
“But who is it? You didn’t tell me yet.”
When he heard her answer, it froze him in place. At first he thought it was just a sick joke. But still, he went to the hospital and looked at the patient. What he saw sent him to the bathroom where he heaved for quite a few minutes before he was able to control his panic attack.
Since the patient had no injuries, the hospital easily put him into Dr. MacCoy’s care. So he brought him back to the mansion and ran the first test he thought of.
DNA match.
Six times.
Each time the result was positive.
Hank opened his eyes and looked at the young man curled on the bed. All tests gave him only one answer, that what he was seeing was right.
Right in the middle of the infirmary, dressed in a hospital gown, sitting with his knees under his chin, was a man that had died and was buried six months ago.
Remy LeBeau.
He looked the same… well almost. While doing physical examination Hank noticed that all scars were gone. There was also no mark after the wounds that killed him.
His hair was a little longer, reaching just past his shoulders and his frame was just a little bit thinner than usual. But he was looking the same as he had the night before the fatal mission.
Except… he felt different. Yes, maybe what Hank thought was not very scientific, but he had no other explanation. All his medical experience, all his sophisticated gear here in the lab told him that he was dealing with living, breathing… alive Remy LeBeau, except that Hank had been there when Remy gave his last breath and Hank had done the autopsy personally. Not to mention that he SEEN the coffin being covered by feet of heavy, wet earth.
Remy FELT different. Usually, the Cajun was charming company, sometimes irritating but at all times friendly and energetic. Now, Hank had seen him sit in unchanged position for HOURS and not even twitch a muscle. And he was not so friendly anymore. There was no hostility or anything so… visible, but every time Hank came closer that 20 feet to the young man, he felt all his hair stand on end and cold shivers run down his spine.
Hank was afraid. Something in Remy, or in this man, who was, but wasn’t Remy terrified him. Some kind of darkness that wasn’t there before. Some kind of cold, that seemed to emanate from him.
Suddenly having an idea, Hank turned back to the computer and gave it new orders. Soon he saw a heat-map of the infirmary displayed on the screen. He designed that program to help monitor Bobby when he was sick and lost control over his powers.
What he saw, chilled him to the bone. In the radius of 20 feet from the young man, the temperature in the room was 5 degrees lower.
From the tests he conducted, Remy still had only his old powers - the energy converting and some kind of low mental activity, probably linked to his shields.
According to this, Remy was not able to control temperature around him.
Finally, Hank saw that there was no use in putting off the inevitable. Slowly, still very hesitantly, he opened the door and stepped into the infirmary, carefully watching the young man with his back to him.
As usual, a sudden chill coursed through his body and his hair stood on end. He watched as the still figure moved a little and the young man moved his head slightly to the side and cocked it.
“Why are you afraid of me?” He asked in a calm, chillingly cold voice. He never even looked at Hank.
TBC
The only sound in the small room was the constant clicking of the keyboard where Dr. Hank MacCoy ordered the computer to run the DNA test for the sixth time this evening.
The deadly silence in the room was caused not only by his incredible concentration, but also by the incredible storm raging outside. Most of the power had been cut off, only the lab and Cerebro were running on the emergency generators.
Hank pushed the glasses higher on his nose and watched the screen change and the final effect being displayed.
DNA match: 100%
Hank sighed and took his glasses off, massaging the bridge of his nose with thick, blue fingers.
It wasn’t possible. It just was not possible.
The blue doctor stood up and slowly made his way to the glass wall separating his small office from the infirmary, and looked at the figure curled on one of the beds.
He closed his eyes, remembering what had happened that evening.
He was alone. Professor, Jean and Scott were in Washington on some kind of important conference. Warren, Bobby and Rogue on Moira Island and Storm was visiting Africa.
Logan left the x-men after Remy’s funeral. Professor said that he was still somewhere in the vicinity of the Mansion, but he was no longer part of the team. In fact no one had seen him, nor spoken to him in the six months since Remy had been buried.
The rain that had started the night before was intensifying, leaving the Earth cold, wet and unwelcome. The sense of melancholy haunted Hank the whole day. He thought that it was probably because of the emptiness in the place where usually there was so much activity. And, he had to admit, he missed the Cajun. No one had really appreciated the young thief until it was too late.
The phone call from his old friend, Anne Luckas, a doctor in one of New York’s hospitals was a welcome intrusion.
But her words were more than shocking.
“ … I believe that we have one of your friends here at the emergency…” She spoke calmly, not wanting to cause any panic in case she was wrong… or right.
Hank’s mind spun. Anne had met some of the x-men but she didn’t know that they were the “mutant terrorists”, so Hank tried to remember just who was introduced to the doctor. Logan, Jean, Scott and Remy. Jean and Scott were now in Washington and Remy was dead. It left only Logan. Was the man hurt? Why would he be in the hospital? Had something happened with his healing factor?
“What happened? Who is it?” Asked Hank urgently.
“I dodn’t know what happened. The police found him half naked in some kind of alley. He is weak and has a case of complete amnesia. He doesn’t know who or where he is.”
“But who is it? You didn’t tell me yet.”
When he heard her answer, it froze him in place. At first he thought it was just a sick joke. But still, he went to the hospital and looked at the patient. What he saw sent him to the bathroom where he heaved for quite a few minutes before he was able to control his panic attack.
Since the patient had no injuries, the hospital easily put him into Dr. MacCoy’s care. So he brought him back to the mansion and ran the first test he thought of.
DNA match.
Six times.
Each time the result was positive.
Hank opened his eyes and looked at the young man curled on the bed. All tests gave him only one answer, that what he was seeing was right.
Right in the middle of the infirmary, dressed in a hospital gown, sitting with his knees under his chin, was a man that had died and was buried six months ago.
Remy LeBeau.
He looked the same… well almost. While doing physical examination Hank noticed that all scars were gone. There was also no mark after the wounds that killed him.
His hair was a little longer, reaching just past his shoulders and his frame was just a little bit thinner than usual. But he was looking the same as he had the night before the fatal mission.
Except… he felt different. Yes, maybe what Hank thought was not very scientific, but he had no other explanation. All his medical experience, all his sophisticated gear here in the lab told him that he was dealing with living, breathing… alive Remy LeBeau, except that Hank had been there when Remy gave his last breath and Hank had done the autopsy personally. Not to mention that he SEEN the coffin being covered by feet of heavy, wet earth.
Remy FELT different. Usually, the Cajun was charming company, sometimes irritating but at all times friendly and energetic. Now, Hank had seen him sit in unchanged position for HOURS and not even twitch a muscle. And he was not so friendly anymore. There was no hostility or anything so… visible, but every time Hank came closer that 20 feet to the young man, he felt all his hair stand on end and cold shivers run down his spine.
Hank was afraid. Something in Remy, or in this man, who was, but wasn’t Remy terrified him. Some kind of darkness that wasn’t there before. Some kind of cold, that seemed to emanate from him.
Suddenly having an idea, Hank turned back to the computer and gave it new orders. Soon he saw a heat-map of the infirmary displayed on the screen. He designed that program to help monitor Bobby when he was sick and lost control over his powers.
What he saw, chilled him to the bone. In the radius of 20 feet from the young man, the temperature in the room was 5 degrees lower.
From the tests he conducted, Remy still had only his old powers - the energy converting and some kind of low mental activity, probably linked to his shields.
According to this, Remy was not able to control temperature around him.
Finally, Hank saw that there was no use in putting off the inevitable. Slowly, still very hesitantly, he opened the door and stepped into the infirmary, carefully watching the young man with his back to him.
As usual, a sudden chill coursed through his body and his hair stood on end. He watched as the still figure moved a little and the young man moved his head slightly to the side and cocked it.
“Why are you afraid of me?” He asked in a calm, chillingly cold voice. He never even looked at Hank.
TBC
