Subject: Family Matters, 3 , , (M/F, cons/noncons, sex)
From: DSWDiane@GNN.com (Diane)
Date: 1996/08/10

Family Matters, Chapter 3

Please see the disclaimer at the beginning of the repost of part 1.


By the way, sincere gratitude and thanks are owed to Dr.John, sting, Idgy, and Vashti for much help and feedback on this opus.

* * *

Storm's loft was lighted by several candles when Logan entered. She was lying in the bed, dressed in white silk pajamas.

"Wine?" Ororo asked as he sat beside her.

He nodded wearily. "Hope you got a jug, darlin,"

'Ro produced two glasses from the floor beside the bed and poured from a bottle of white chardonnay. "A toast?" she proposed.


"To a deep and sincere hope that there will be no more further appearances of unexpected, time traveling offspring, particularly of the tortured telepath variety." Her eyes sparkled.

Logan snorted with amusement and raised his glass. "I'll definitely drink to that. Damn tired of feeling like a character in a science fiction soap."

He took a sip, leaned back against the pillows, and reached out for her with his arm. She curled up beside him and put her head on his shoulder. Logan gathered her up against him and reached his hand down to cup her bottom. She gasped. He chuckled.

"Are you still sore down there?" he asked.

"Oh, yes."

"Let me see." He rolled her over gently across his lap and pulled her pajama bottoms down to look at her behind. It was still rosy, but obviously not seriously hurt. She felt a tingling between her legs. He put his hand there and stroked her clit. She sighed and moved against him.

"I don't think you've been spanked nearly hard enough, 'Ro," he said.

Storm took a very deep breath and froze, clenching her buttocks. He drained his glass of wine, put it down, sat up in the bed, and pulled her tightly up against his stomach, face down, bare bottomed and over his lap. He continued to play with her clit. She felt an agony of need and fear as she anticipated another spanking which she wanted and dreaded.

"But, I think this time, darlin,' we'll spare my hand and use a hair brush."

Logan contined to finger her. She shivered slightly as she contemplated the hairbrush but rocked her hips gently in response to his caresses. "Oh, no," she protested.

"Oh, yes," he mocked her. He raised her to her feet with his hand still between her legs, stroking her hungry sex. "Go, get me your brush," he ordered.

She was acutely aware of her bare bottom with her pajamas pulled down to just below her naked nates. She fetched her hair brush as he had ordered and came back to the bed. Fear and desire were at war inside her.

Logan took the brush from her hand and pulled her back down over his lap. He cinched her firmly back up against his belly, and poured himself another glass of wine as he gazed down at her bare and vulnerable bottom. He took a moment to adjust her pajama bottoms to the middle of her thighs and pulled her top far above her waist. He drained his glass of wine, raised the brush up high, and smacked it hard against her naked fanny.

"OWWWWwww," she protested. It hurt much worse than his hand. And continued to hurt as he padddled her mercilessly. The brush descended again and again on her bare and wiggling bottom which reddened and reddened until it blazed with pain and fire. She kicked and screamed and finally began to sob. Logan continued to spank her until her protests quieted, and she sobbed her acceptance of his control of her predicament. Then he continued to spank her bottom for fun. Because it was a lovely bottom and he enjoyed making it red as a sunset.

Finally, he stopped, put the brush down, and poured himself another glass of wine as he gazed down at the blistered bare butt over his knees. He put the glass down on the table beside the bed and reached his hand back between her legs. She was wet and aroused. He fingered her until she came, exploding with fulfillment.

"Now, what, dear one?" he asked with a grin in his voice.

She shuddered and bit his thigh. "Lie down, you dominating, brutal, animal," she directed.

Wolvie chuckled yet again, but did as she asked. She shifted off his knees, acutely aware of her blazing butt. It hurt deliciously. It burned flamboyantly. It made her hot as a fire cracker.

She kicked off the bottoms of her pajamas and with Logan's cooperation ripped off his jeans.

She knelt beside him, her red bottom toward his face. She took his hardness in her mouth and tried to swallow it whole. He spasmed in her mouth. She pulled back quickly and tongued the tip over and over, licking and sucking gently on the head and then moving her mouth up and down the shaft. He groaned with satisfied delight. The silk of her pajama top slid back and forth over her back. Her bottom burned. She swallowed him again taking his hardness deep into her throat, suppressing her gag reflex. She felt spasms against her throat and then his hands clutching her hair and pulling her off of him.

He rolled her over, sore butt against the sheets of her bed and stared into her face. "You are mine, Ororo," he said quietly. Her eyes met his and she nodded in acceptance. He unbottoned her top, baring her breasts, and thrust himself deeply into her and she came immediately, strongly, from the depths of her being.

And she spasmed again and again and again into earth shattering orgasms. The muscles of her vagina clutched against his hard cock over and over. He thrust slowly and deeply and watched her face as her orgasms washed through her. She pushed herself up against him urgently, and he quickened the pace to match her need and continued to thrust deeply as she ground her lower lips against his groin. She screamed as another shattering orgasm rocketed through her.

"Oh, please, Logan, please. I can't take much more," she gasped. He grinned and slowed, teasing her. She opened her eyes and shook her head at him, smiling herself.

"Havin' too much fun to end this, darlin,' but I could give you a breather," he offered. She laughed and relaxed as he continued to move in and out of her slowly and gently. Almost imperceptibility, little by little, he speeded up and deepened and hardened his thrusts. Her breathing quickened and her eyes glazed. She still felt the intense heat of her bottom against the sheets. Again she raised up to meet him, clutching him tightly to her. He rode her harder and harder and saw the flush of blood rising on her breasts as her vaginal muscles again began to contract against him. He closed his own eyes and exploded himself. He collapsed in her arms, gasping with spent desire. Her bottom still blazed from his spanking.

"I love you," she said.

He laughed and hugged her tightly. "I've loved you for years, old friend," he said gently.

* * *

Events were not quite so peaceful and immediately satisfying down in Remy's room. Rogue had returned from her examination in the medlab and had been appropriately loving and affectionate for about ten minutes. Then, the questions had started. Remy had satisfied her curiousity about his origins, but had been unable to satisfy her irritation about his "secrets." She had progressed from irritation to anger. Remy was sitting up on his bed knees tightly drawn up to his chest in a knot of tension as Rogue paced furiously up and down the room.

"Ah took these damn memories of yur's into ma head when ah kissed ya, ya blasted idiot. Did ya expect me to digest them for ya?" she raged. He shook his head. "They been driving me crazy!"

"Dey been driving me crazy for longer, girl," he said quietly. "And I be sorry. R'lly, cher, I be tres' sorry. I never would've let you kiss me cept I be t'inking it was de end of de world."

She glared at him. "Ah thought it was the end of the world, too, Remy. That's why ah risked touching ya and absorbing ya. But that ain't the point, is it, sugah? The point is that ya' wouldn't tell me what ah had absorbed when it wasn't the end of the world."

"I cou'dn't tell you, cher. I couldn't," Remy said. "I tried in Seattle. I asked you to kiss me again and take my memories, but I cou'dn't talk about de t'ings I did. Still can't. Had to let 'em do it for me. I'm sorry, girl. I really am."

"Sorry doesn't cut it, Remy. There was no excuse for ya not tellin' me."

"I tryin' t' tell you that I couldn't. I was afraid of losin' you, of losin' evert'ing dat matter t' me. What else can I say, but dat I'm sorry."

"It ain't good enough."

"So, what would be? You t'ink up some o'ter good punishment for me, neh? Maybe you want to beat me up, heh?" Remy unthinkingly put his hand down to his still blistered, bruised, and aching butt and flinched slightly as he touched it.

Rogue glared at him and slammed her fist into the wall. It hurt. She had forgotten she was wearing the collar that nullified her powers. She gasped with pain. Remy came up off the bed, and tried to gather her into his arms. He forgot his own pain and guilt in his concern for her.

She jerked away from him, still raging. "Why didn't ya just tell me the truth in Seattle?" she demanded. Again.

"I couldn't, cher. I was scared. Ain't I allowed t' be scared? And as I try t' be telling you I was ashamed. How many times do I gotta tell you de same t'ings over and over. What do you want, cher?" Remy tried to catch her in his arms. She pulled away again.

"What do ya care about what ah want, ya Cajun asshole?"

Remy's felt a rising sense of righteous indignation. "I t'ink, I'm over it, cher. I t'ink I done been through hell and back t'night and I don' know why you keepin' me up all damn night j'st to yell at me."

"Ah think you're damn lucky ah'm still speaking to ya at all."

"Dat might be a matter of opinion, right at dis very minute, p'tite."

Rogue's eyes flashed. She knew she was being unreasonable, but she had worked herself up into one of her tantrums and didn't know how to calm down.

She whirled abruptly, picked up a glass of water from Remy's night table and threw it in his face. "Ya' like that bettah than mah talkin,' ya bastard."

Remy closed his eyes, shook his head, and dried his face with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and angry. "I t'ink you need your bottom spanked as bad as I did. And I t'ink, I might j'st accommodate you."

Rogue gasped and glared at him. "You wouldn't dare," she spat.

Remy shrugged, "You take dat collar off, cher, and you know you can clean my clock any ol' time. You leave it on, den dat tell me somet'ng."

Rogue's glare changed to a look of shock. He was serious. Her hands went to her collar. Remy stood and watched, waiting for her to decide. She dropped her hands to her side. She stood silently waiting for him to make the next move. She had never seen him look at her with so much anger in his eyes. It scared her right out of her rage. She did love the damn man, and she certainly didn't want to lose him. There was a cold and sinking feeling in her belly.

Remy took her by each of her upper arms and took her her over to the bed. He sat down and put her over his knees. She gasped. "I t'ink you need a spankin', " he said. "I t'ink you need your panties downed."

"Oh, no, Remy don't please," Rogue protested, feeling a sick apprehension. He raised her nightshirt over her waist and looked down at her panty clad bottom.

"You gonna tell me you dat you never been spanked before, girl?" he asked as he put his fingers into the waist band of her panties. His voice was still angry, and Rogue trembled.

"No," Rogue admitted. "Mystique blistered me plenty a' times."

"Bare bottomed?" Remy continued to tease his fingers around the waist band of her panties, inching them down.

"Yeah," Rogue shivered, remembering some of the times her adopted mother had punished her.

"She ever spank you for dat nasty temper dat you been ventin' at me tonight?"

Rogue shivered again at the note of frustrated disapproval in Remy's voice. She felt a stab of guilt. She had meant to punish him with her rage, and she knew well that he had already been through plenty of pain and punishment.

"Yeah," she said, acutely aware that her temper had been responsible for the worst troubles she had ever had, including the trouble she was in that minute with Remy.

Remy took her panties down and raised his hand high above his shoulder. Rogue felt the cool air of the room on her bare bottom and tensed. His hand smacked down swiftly and she yelped.

"You should be happy, girl, dat I don' got dat paddle dat got used on me. This be a love pat compared to what I been put through." He whacked her again and again. Love pat or not, it hurt, but it also felt oddly satisfying to feel his bare hand against her naked flesh for all that it stung and burned. She felt an tingling in her crotch and pressed down hard against his legs.

Remy grinned slightly and continued to spank as hard as he could. He planned to set her bottom on fire and then hoped to set her on fire. His hand blazed repeatedly against her bare butt.

Rogue began to struggle as the pain intensified and Remy trapped her legs by putting one of his across them. He pulled her tightly up to his belly with her bare behind over his upper thigh and spanked fiercely.

She thrust her hand back to cover herself and he landed a solid spank at the top of her leg. She yelped again. "Move de hand, cher, or I blister your legs as well as your bottom," he threatened, delivering several more spanks to the tender flesh just below her bottom cheeks.

She moved her hand quickly and braced it against the floor. This was obviously going to be a long ordeal. He continued to spank without mercy. Tears rose in her eyes and started to trickle down her face. She sniffled and then started to sob. "Ah'm sorry, Remy. Please, ah'm really sorry."

"Oh, so you won' accep' my apology, but now you want me t' take your's. Don' t'ink so. Not dis time, girl. You got a good, long, hard spankin' comin' t' you and you gonna get it."

He delivered as promised. Rogue sobbed. But even as she cried and endured the spanking, she continued to feel an incredible tension building in her private parts. She began to rub herself against his leg more and more energetically. Remy took the hand that wasn't spanking and slipped his fingers into her. She gasped as he slid through the wetness and tickled at her clit. Simultaneously, he delivered another firm and painful spank, and she felt as if an electrical current jolted through her whole body.

He continued for several more minutes, spanking and playing with her as she sobbed in pain and gasped with pleasure. Then he let his hand fall gently to her behind and start rubbing it. "You t'ink you're over dat bad tempered nonsense, chile?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah, Remy," she sobbed. "Ah promise."

"Should make you go stand in de corner, cher, but I t'ink I got ot'er plans for t'night." He turned her in his arms and sat her in his lap, putting his arms around her. She nestled against him and cried against his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head and rocked her gently. Her sobs quieted.

"Are ya done bein' mad at me?" she asked.

"I t'ink so. 'Less you start throwin' t'ings ag'in." He hugged her to him tightly, and she sighed with relief. He put one hand back between her legs. She was still wet with excitement. He paused and looked at her with questioning eyes.

"Yes, Remy," she said.

"You ready, cherie?" She nodded.

"Any time you want to stop, you j'st say so," he said. "I be a very big boy. Can wait until it right for you."

Rogue felt a stab of fear along with her excitement. For her, with her powers, this was unfamiliar territory. She took a deep breath, "Go ahead, Remy. Ah'll tell ya if it's too much."

He stripped off her panties and nightshirt and put her gently down on the bed. They kissed, long and deep, playing with each other's lips, tickling with their tongues until Remy thrust his tongue deep into her mouth and she sucked on it with satisfaction. He pulled away and nuzzled her again with his mouth, playing with her lips and then again gave her his tongue deeply. The tingling down below was about to drive her crazy.

His mouth left hers and moved down her body lingering at her firm young breasts, licking long and teasingly around her nipples until they were as hard as he was. She shuddered and stroked his hair.

His head moved lower. His tongue licked and teased her inner thighs and played in the space between the thighs and her lower lips. He licked at the inner lips and she spasmed with the intensity of the feelings.

"Stop, Remy, please," she gasped. He raised his head immediately and looked at her. She took a deep breath.

"J'ist needed a break. Oh, sugah, does it always feel this good?"

"It s'posed to, but it don't always work out quite dis good," he grinned. She smiled back with radiant joy.

"Ya j'st go back to what ya was doin,' boy. Ah'm fine."

"And where was I? Hmmm, oui." He went back down and caressed again the inner lips with his tongue and then went to her clit. He moved his mouth against the side of its little hardness and Rogue rocked and shuddered as his tongue moved up and down. He took the tip against his lips and sucked gently while continuing to move his tongue up and down the sides.

Waves of incredible heat suddenly exploded in her lower belly and moved through her body, feeling like explosions that left her gasping. She cried out and pushed his head away from her as her clit felt as if it were in pain from the sensitivity of its response. She felt acutely aware of every muscle in her body suddenly relaxing as the heat radiated and she moaned. He watched as she shuddered with her response and smiled.

"Oh, Remy," she gasped. "It never felt like this when ah did myself."

He laughed out loud. "Dat's why dis is better as two person activity, cher," he said.

She giggled and reached for him. He lay down beside her and took her into his arms.

"You wan' to taste you'self, girl?" he asked. She nodded and her kissed her, putting his tongue deep into her mouth.

"Not bad," she commented. He laughed again.

"Pretty damn good, I t'ink."

"Why do ya still have y'er clothes on, Cajun?" she asked.

"You wan' to go on to de main course, chere? We could stop here for t'night."

Rogue took another deep breath and thought about it. She was scared, but she still felt incomplete. It wasn't enough. "No, love, Ah want to go on."

Remy obediently stripped off his sweat suit and underwear. Rogue gasped as she caught a glimpse of his bruised and blistered butt. Her bottom still felt warm and tingly, but she knew it was not as hurt as his.

"What, cher?" Remy asked, confused by her gasp of concern.

"Y'er butt, sugah. It must hurt."

"Oui," Remy admitted. "Logan, he be de best at what he do, whatever he do. It okay, my amour, I had it comin.' I needed it bad. An' don' you ever tell anyone I said dat."

"Ah promise," she smiled and stroked his wild, auburn hair. "Now what do we do?"

He kissed her again and started again the play with their mouths and tongues. She felt rising excitment.

He rose above her, placing his body against her. "You tell me if you want t' stop, cher," he directed again. She nodded. He placed the tip of his hard cock against her opening and gently and slowly eased in. She gasped as she felt his hardness against her. She began to tingle again from her clit up.

He pushed against the barrier inside her virgin canal and paused easing back. He put his hand down between them and caressed her. She began to gasp and move against him.

"Please, Remy, go ahead."

He thrust into her quickly and punched through her hymen. She felt a sudden, sharp pain, and then stabs of piercing pleasure as he rocked against her carressing her clit with his groin. He worshiped her with his body and left her wracked with multiple orgasms. She was amazed at the potential that their bodies had to give them pleasure.

Amazed and delighted.

He played with her, changing his stoke and rhythm over and over as she came again and again. Finally, out of sheer exhaustion, he prepared to come himself. He began to thrust deeply into her.

"Rogue," he said quietly.


"Do me a favor, p'tite, and grab my butt. Hold it hard." She did as she was asked and he felt anew the painful soreness. The sensations flamed through him, and he thrust hard and quickly into Rogue. He came intensely. And she came again as she felt his release within her.

They lay in each others arms, spent and exhausted. Remy shifted his weight off of her and laid back, still inside her. "Oh God, Remy, that was incredible," she gasped.

"Not bad for your first time out of de gate," he grinned at her wickedly. She smacked the butt she was still holding. "Yow," Remy flinched, but kept grinning. "I love you, cher."

"Ah think ah love you, too. God help me."

Remy kissed her cheek, pulled out gently, and curled up beside her. "I have to sleep, cher," he said. "Dis has been one hell of a day."

She pulled his head down on her shoulder. "You sleep, sugah. And thank you. That was wonderful."

"I t'ought so myself."

"Shhh, sleep." He shut his eyes and within minutes, his breathing slowed and his body went limp.

Rogue waited until he was soundly asleep and slipped out of bed, quickly pulling on her panties and nightshirt. As the panties slid over her bare skin, she became newly aware of her sore bottom and she grinned ruefully. Didn't remember getting so turned on back when Mystique used to paddle her. She felt like a new woman with a new body and she badly wanted to find a bathroom both to use the facilities and to look in the mirror and see if she actually had changed. She had not much desire to run into any of the guys on the hall so she took off the collar, slipped out the window, and flew back toward her own side of the mansion. The sun was just rising.

* * *

Wolverine woke early and slipped out of the sleeping Storm's arms. He pulled his clothes on and went to the window. He grinned at the sight of Rogue in her nightshirt flying loops in the sky above the mansion. He leaned out and spoke in a quiet but carrying voice, "Get some clothes on, girl."

She flew up to his window and giggled at him. He couldn't remember that he had ever seen her look so happy. "Did you sleep in Storm's loft?" she asked with wide eyed amazement.

"None o' your business, darlin.' Where have you been sleepin'?"

"Ah ain't slept at all, and ah ain't plannin' to."

Logan settled down on the sill of the large window and patted the space beside him. Rogue sat down beside him with her legs dangling in the morning air.

"Been havin' fun?" he asked with feigned innocence. She giggled again.

"Ah had no idea that it was possible to have such fun," she confided.

"You been with Remy?"

"All night."

"And not sleeping. Well, there are other things to do in a bed. Don't you swat at me, girl. You're not wearing that collar and you don't seem to be in need of absorbing my powers." He had once saved her life by kissing her when she was dying from serious injuries, allowing her to absorb his healing factor.

"Indeed there are other things to do in a bed, but I had hoped to use mine for sleeping a bit longer, you inconsiderate chatterboxes," Storm came up behind Logan, back in her silk pajamas, and leaned over to kiss him good morning. He took her face in both hands and kissed her long and deep.

Rogue stared at both of them with wide eyes.

Storm pulled back gently from Logan and laughed at the expression on Rogue's face. "Don't ask, Rogue. I'm afraid we have no idea what we're doing," she said.

"Chatterboxes?" Logan complained, "You're getting me confused with Hank, darlin.' And it's past time to be up."

"Um, Rogue, aren't you a little scantily clad?" Storm asked.

"Ah think that may be a hint that ya'll 'ud like some time alone. Maybe to try to figure out what ya'll are doin.' And ah need to find a bathroom."

"You do that, girl. And then you go find the good doctor and get yourself examined."


"It was your first time, Rogue. You kids use anything?"


"Thought not. Kids. Ya both oughta be whacked," Logan shook his head. "I mean it, Rogue, medlab, first thing."

Rogue stuck out her tongue at him and flew off the window sill not quite fast enough to dodge the smack he planted on the seat of her nightshirt. It reminded her delightfully of the night she had just had as it awakened the heat in her bottom. She flew out of range of his hands and grinned at them.

"Maybe Storm should keep me company down there." She flew off quickly to find a bathroom and get dressed for the day.

"Maybe I should," Storm said with a smile. "Get some treatment for blistered bottom and well fucked lassitude."

"Ororo, such language."

"But quite accurate and very much appreciated. And we didn't use anything either. Should we be whacked?"

"I'll whack you any time, anywhere, darlin'. Anybody trying to whack me, gonna have some problems. Should we have used something?" He looked at her searchingly.

"I'm not likely to get pregnant unless I have my implant removed. And I thought it unlikely that either of us might infect the other."

"My healing factor don't allow too many germs to take hold in me, woman."

"But God only knows where Remy has been and what he has done with whom."

"Don't think he would take a chance with hurting Rogue, but I'll talk to him."

"He won't like that."

"Tough. Did you want to talk? About what we're doing?"

Storm settled into the window and laid her head on his chest. "Must we?" she asked.

"Might be a good plan."

She sighed, "Can't we just take it one day at time. No promises for now. No risking another broken heart for either of us. Just enjoying what we have."

"I think that could be a great way to insure another broken heart. I think we could play that way for a little while, but not long. Ain't either one of us casual types, darlin'. Think we both tend to be a bit intense."

"Moi? Intense? Logan, really," Storm smiled.

"And we are not gonna play again until you get straight with Forge."

"Ouch," Ororo protested.

"Ouch is right, woman. You get straight with Forge or I'll give you a big ouch, not followed by any love making."

"I don't even want to talk to him."

"You will whether you want to or not. Far as I know, he still thinks you're his woman even if you are having problems. And I don't usually mess with my friends' women."

"Oh, really? Ever told Scott that?" She braced herself and was not disappointed when his hand smacked her blistered butt.

"Ya gonna call Forge?"

"Yes, sir, you brutal, dominating animal," she rose from his arms and kissed him again.

"I think it's time we both got dressed."

"You are dressed."

"Yeah, in yesterday's clothes. Move, woman."

* * *

When Remy woke, it was well past noon. He stretched and yawned and felt a moment of bitter disappointment that Rogue was gone. He then rolled over in the bed and winced with pain as his butt hit the sheets. He was sore.

The events of the day before filled his head and he looked around at the walls of his room with dread. A week, confined to his room, grounded like a child, with the prospect of every member of the team ordered to visit him. And every member of the team knowing his guilty secrets. He thought of Tanya and her screams, of his association with Sinister. He thought of the bare bottom paddling he had received in front of everyone the night before. Of his tears and sobbing. Of the nightmare he had broadcast to the entire mansion.

He couldn't imagine how he would be able to look any of them in the eye.

And he had to piss so badly that he thought he would burst. What on earth was he supposed to do about bathroom priveleges if he was under room arrest? He didn't think anyone would approve him directing it out the window. He hadn't had much experience with his newly discovered telepathic powers, but he used the link to signal his distress to his father.

What, Remy? the psychic response came.

I gotta go to a bathroom. And I'm hungry.

By all means, go to the bathroom. I'll have some food sent up to you.


There was no one around in the halls of the third floor of the mansion when he went out. He took his time in the bathroom on the men's side, showering long and shaving closely. He hoped that the food would be delivered and the deliverer gone before he got back.

He had no such luck. Storm waited patiently with a tray of breakfast food. He looked briefly at his oldest and closest friend among the X-men and then stared down at the floor. His hunger vanished, and all he felt in his stomach was aching fear. He adored and respected the windrider, and knew her to be ethical and honorable beyond reproach. He couldn't imagine that she still had any respect for him. Once again, he felt unbidden tears stinging in his eyes and he blinked them away impatiently.

"'allo, Stormy," he said softly.

"I swear, I give up on asking you not to call me that. Hello, Remy, and stop looking so stricken. Yes, indeed, you have behaved very badly in your past and you should feel guilty. But you have also behaved very well in recent years, and you have done much to redeem yourself."

Remy felt the tears sting in his eyes again. One spilled over and ran down his cheek. Ro put a finger to his face and caught it, caressing his cheek, gently.

"It really is okay to cry, Remy. I know you're a big, strong, powerful man. And I also know that you have feelings."

He felt sobs gathering in his chest, and he held his breath in an effort to contain them. "K'in you forgive me de t'ings I did?" he asked tightly.

"Of course. I think I can even understand them. I love you. Can you ever doubt that?"

"How cou'd you?" his breath caught and he turned away from her trying to contain himself and get his misery under control. He leaned against the wall and tried to breathe past the constriction in his chest.

"Remy, we all do what we have to do to survive. For me that meant becoming a thief in Cairo. For you, it meant becoming a thief in New Orleans. You had it rough and tough, old friend."

"So did you, but you never did t' anyone like I did t' Tanya. An' you never worked for Sinister."

"No, I was lucky, I was recruited by the professor when I was the age you were when those events occurred, and I had much less anger and pain than you. Stop beating yourself up, Remy. Can you?"

He shook his head, feeling intense shame in his guts. Tears continued to gather in his eyes. "You lost you' parents, too, cher. You was a street kid, like me. I got no r'll 'cuses for de t'ings I did."

Ororo shook her head and went to him. She put her arms around him, guided him to the bed where she pulled him down beside her with his head against her shoulder. "My parents were killed in the rubble of the bombing of Cairo, not murdered in front of me. I ended up worshiped as a goddess, not banished by the only family I could remember. Remy, stop this."

"You r'lly still care about dis mess of a person?" he asked shakily.

"Remy Lebeau, or should I say Remy Xavier, no one and nothing could stop me from caring about you or loving you."

Remy took a deep sigh of relief and started to sob. He was tired unto death of crying, but the tears were still there waiting to be released. Ro held him tightly as he wept.

"I don't know how t' cope wi't dis, Stormy," he said when he was able to talk.

"It's okay, Remy."

"How k'in I stay here as one of de X-men, w'it such a past?'

"We want you here. All of us."

"I don't beli've dat." Storm felt a moment of deep impatience with his determined guilt and shame. She raised her hand and smacked it strongly against his blistered butt. He winced and clung to her.

"I'm tired of this self abuse, Remy," she said. "Obviously, it is possible for me to forgive you, for Rogue to forgive you, for Logan to forgive you, and the Professor. Why do you persist in not forgiving yourself?"

"I don' know," he sobbed, hurting from his heart. Ro sighed and held him tightly until his sobs quieted and he relaxed against her chest.

"Can you believe that I still love you, Remy?"

He nodded, still unable to speak. He felt deep and incredible relief, but he still felt uncertain about his relationships with the rest of his "family."

"You need to eat, child," Storm directed.

He took a deep breath and pulled himself out of her arms. "I will, I promise, Stormy. An' I want t' be alone now, okay?"

Ororo sighed deeply. She was still worried about the emotional state of her friend, but she acquiesced to his stated wishes.

"We will deal with this, Remy," she said as she left him.

"Oui," he said, still unable to look her in the eyes. The door shut behind her. Remy stared at the food on the tray and then hurled it at the wall. He had no appetite at all.

He looked at the mess he had created and then started to clean it up, wishing that he could do the same with the mess he had created in his life.

To be continiued. . .