Subject: Family Matters, 19
From: Dswdiane@aol.com
Date: Sun, 1 Feb 1998 17:16:25 EST
Bobby started the jeep and drove out of the garage and down the driveway. Remy fiddled with the CD player.
"Okay wit you if we hear a couple or three songs before we go random?" he asked. Bobby nodded and rummaged in his pocket bringing out a little wooden box and sliding the top open. He handed it to Remy who looked inside and saw five neatly rolled joints.
"Light one, pal," Bobby suggested.
Remy took a deep breath. "I sorta promised not t' touch drugs, Bobby," he said quietly.
"Oh, c'mon, Rem," Bobby protested. "I was there. And I know damn well that Logan meant cocaine or any other white powder. He wasn't talking about pot. Did one single person yell at you about the pot?"
"Only about riding my bike while I was high," Remy admitted. "But Bobby, you're driving."
"My funeral. And you were high on a lot more than pot, Rem. Besides, I do it all the time. I know how to drive when I'm high," Bobby said confidently.
Remy shrugged. His butt was feeling intensely uncomfortable against the seat of the jeep and he thought that getting high sounded like a very fine idea. He pushed in the cigarette lighter and lit one of the jays, dragging deep and passed it over to Bobby who took a drag himself.
Remy was loading discs in the changer, as the joint went back and forth. He punched some buttons and turned up the volume.
"Disarm me with a smile Cut you like you want me to, Cut that little child, inside of me, and such a part of you."
Bobby grinned as he heard his favorite Smashing Pumpkins song. He passed the jay back to Remy and asked him to turn it up. Remy complied, grinning, as he took another deep drag.
"I used to be a little boy, so old in my shoes."
The song continued as Bobby pointed to the box that had held the pot.
"Roach clip," he said. Remy nodded and got it out. Bobby's foot started tapping as he listened.
"What I choose is my choice. What's a boy supposed to do? The killer in me is the killer in you
My love, Send this smile over to you."
"I'm high," Remy announced with a huge grin. Bobby laughed.
"I'm not real grounded myself," he admitted. "And I love this music." Then burst out laughing as he realized what a typically inane pothead remark that had been. He caught Remy's eyes with a rueful roll of his own and a chagrined shrug. Remy laughed out loud. The song was ending and he punched some more buttons.
A long introduction led to, "Some people get by. . . with a little understanding Some people get by. . . with a whole lot more. I don't know why you gotta be so undemanding. One thing I know.
I want MORE
(and I need all the love I can get) (and I need all the love that I can't get, too) (and I need all the love I can get) (and I need all the love that I can't get, too)"
Well, that made perfect sense to Bobby and he could sure understand the appeal of those lyrics to Remy. He started laughing again and pointed to the stereo. Remy nodded, laughing, too and leaned forward to turn it up yet again.
"D'you get scared, to feel so much? To let somebody touch you? So hot, so cold, so far, so out of control hard to come by, and harder to hold."
The song ended. Remy turned the music down to allow conversation.
"Who was that?" Bobby asked.
"Sisters of Mercy," Remy replied. "And where de hell are we goin'?"
Bobby grinned. "I figured we go to the hardware store first. Then the A & P. Then the bakery. We should probably hit the fish market last."
"Sounds like a plan," Remy agreed. He punched more buttons and started to play another song.
"Turn it up," Bobby requested. Remy did so. Bobby drove carefully as they listened to very loud music.
"What do we gotta buy here besides de glass?" Remy asked as they pulled up at the hardware store. Bobby shrugged.
"You ever fixed a window before?" he asked. Remy shook his head. "Well, maybe they can tell us what we need. I probably should've asked before we took off, but it's too late, now."
They emerged about fifteen minutes later from the hardware store with glass, putty, and instructions which were rapidly fading from their short term memory.
"Y'know," Remy laughed helplessly as they started the jeep again. "Maybe we should've done de shoppin' first before we got high."
"Too late, now," Bobby grinned. They drove to the A & P where Logan's list of groceries got supplemented by several bottles of varying liquid refreshment, two gallons of Breyer's ice cream, Fudge Ripple and Chocolate, and several candy bars. Bobby had to drag Remy away from the spices where the Cajun got mesmerized by reading the labels on all the little cans and bottles.
When they got back to the jeep, Remy opened a bottle of Arizona green tea and drank deeply while lighting a cigarette. "Now where?" he asked.
"Bakery," Bobby said succinctly. They left Alon's with only the eight loaves of French bread, as Remy vetoed Bobby's suggestion that they buy about ten chocolate eclairs.
"We can eat de oatmeal cream pies, mon ami," he said. "We buy too much junk an' we gonna have t' answer questions."
Bobby paused as he drank from his bottle of Arizona iced tea. "Uh, Rem," he started. "You aren't gonna get overwhelmed with some urgent need to confess, are you?"
"I don' t'ink so," Remy lit another cigarette. "I don' happen t' t'ink dat smokin' pot any kinda big deal. An' I t'ink you were right dat I was bein' asked t' promise not t' touch de hard stuff. Where you t'ink some acid would rank, mon ami?"
"You got a connection?" Bobby asked with sincere interest.
Remy shrugged, "I t'ink I could get it," he said. "Good stuff."
"I think what they don't know can't hurt em," Bobby grinned hugely as he pulled into the parking lot of the fish market. "And, no, acid isn't hard stuff in my book. I think it would be fun. We could go to the beach."
Ten pounds of shrimp and red snapper later, they were back in the jeep and headed home. Remy lit another joint and turned the music up again.
He and Bobby passed a sign in front of a store that said "Everything Amish." They both said simultaneously, "Amish R' Us." and burst into hysterical laughter.
"Not de beach," Remy said, still laughing. "If we drop acid I wanna go to the Calder museum."
"Calder?" Bobby asked.
"Alexander Calder," Remy explained. "Sculptor. He makes dose mobiles like de one at de National Gallery. Y'know real big. Bright colors. I like his stuff. I been wantin' t' go t' his museum. It close to here, I t'ink."
"Or we could go to MOMA," Bobby said.
"I don' t'ink I wanna be in Manhattan trippin,' Bobbo," Remy protested. "Like stimulus overload."
"Yeah," Bobby agreed after thinking a second. "Been there, done that, got the t-shirt, don't wanna go back." They pulled up the mansion and started unloading the perishables. Logan came out to help.
"Get it all?" he asked. He looked at the box of Little Debbie oatmeal cream pies that was open on the front seat, noted that it was half empty, and looked at Remy and Bobby who tried hard to stifle their giggles. Logan's took a deep whiff of the air in the jeep and the scent on their clothes as he grabbed one of the pies. He tore open the cellophane and started to munch as he looked thoughtfully at the others.
"Hmm," he said. "Guys, I'd strongly advise you to stay the hell away from Hank till that scent fades. But it smells like good stuff. Think you might share some with me some time?"
Bobby caught Remy's eye. "Told you," he said smugly. They both started laughing.
Logan shook his head and thrust bags of groceries at them. "Yep, good stuff," he commented. "And I ain't gonna get an answer to my question, am I?" Bobby and Remy looked at one another again and Bobby's eyes lit up with glee.
"I think Logan considers it to be like totally insignificant plant life," Bobby choked out. Remy almost fell over.
"Like just a little tree. . ." Remy laughed.
"Not totally insignificant," Logan said mildly still holding out the bags of groceries. "Seems to have its uses judging from the fun you boys are having. Seems to be infinitely more useful than that damn tree."
Bobby had to lean against the side of the jeep as he laughed. Remy simply sat down on the grass. Logan rolled his eyes and shook his head. "They're gonna be useless for about an hour or so," he muttered to himself, before turning to them.
"Guys," he said as he reached into the jeep and pulled out more bags, slinging the plastic up his arms. "Do not, I repeat, do not attempt to deal with that glass until you make contact with ground. I mean it. I think it could be a fine idea if you took a swim or hung out together and did nothing. Matter of fact, think that's the only idea that makes any sense at all. Scat. I'll cover for you. But you owe me."
"My room?" Bobby suggested to the Cajun.
"Got music?" Remy queried. Bobby nodded. "Dat your window?" Bobby nodded again. Remy grinned. "Bet you could beat me up dere."
Bobby slid down the side of the jeep, laughing hysterically.
Logan shook his head. "If you guys ever make it off the lawn, I'll assume you're up in Bobby's room." He walked back to the kitchen.
Bobby drew his knees up to his chest and rested his back on the side of the jeep. He looked over at Remy who was crossing his legs to sit comfortably himself. "Told you Logan wouldn't give a damn," Bobby said, grinning.
Remy's eyes sparkled back at him. "You t'ink it would be fun to get high wit him?"
Bobby thought for a moment and nodded with a huge smile. "I think Logan would be funny as hell," he admitted. "Now what exactly did you want to bet me?"
Remy put his hands in his hair over his ears and pulled as he grinned at Bobby. "Hey," he said. "Let's forget bout bets. An' go on up t' your room." He rose to his feet and grabbed the CD changer from the jeep.
Bobby nodded, stood, held out his hand and created an ice slide to glide both of them up to his window.
* * *
Remy prowled around Bobby' room, looking at everything, especially the books on his shelves. "You like science fiction and fantasy?" he asked.
Bobby shrugged. "What's not to like?" he asked reasonably, pulling the little wooden box out of his pocket and lighting up. He passed the joint along.
Remy took it and drew deeply. He continued to peruse Bobby's book and CD collection. "Music?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.
Bobby grinned and pointed to his stereo. Remy nodded. "What you wanna hear, mon ami?" he asked.
"How bout the Lush you brought with us?" Bobby suggested. Remy nodded, put it on and they both grinned as "Lady Killer" started playing. Remy sang along softly with the lyrics in the middle of the song.
"Hey, girls, here comes the next one:
Blondie was with me for a summer. He played like a maniac, but I wouldn't bite. I'm weak and he was so persistent. He only had to have me cause I put up a fight.
Oh God, the boy has such an ego. He likes to talk about himself all day and all night.
You think you're such a lady killer But you were nothing special till you turned out the light. . . . . .
When you say you love me, you're just flattering your vanity But I don't need your practiced lines, your school yard charm mentality So save your breath for someone else, and credit me with something more.
When it comes to men like you I've know the score. I've heard it all before. . ."
"Y'know, I've known some guys like that," Bobby grinned as the song finished. He sure recognized himself in some of the lyrics.
"Yeah, me too." Remy grinned back. So did he. He continued to prowl around Bobby's room as he skipped several tracks on the Lush CD and went on to "Single Girl." He turned the volume down to allow conversation and continued examining Bobby's CD collection.
"How bout Genesis, next?" he asked.
"Which one?"
"Invisible Touch," Remy said.
"Yeah," Bobby agreed. "One of my favorites." He drew deep on the joint and passed it back to Remy who took another toke.
Remy hesitated and then asked, "How much y'know bout what's been goin' on wit me?"
Bobby sighed and told the truth, "Logan told me about your memories of being a little kid. And he told me that you got punished again. I'm sorry, Remy. You must be hurting bad."
"I'm okay," Remy said automatically. Then he grinned and shook his head. "No, I'm not. My fucking butt hurts like hell. An' dose memories were. . .well, some of dem were good. But I confused as all hell bout whose kid I am. An' not real happy bout bein' so confused."
"I'm sorry," Bobby said again, meaning and expressing his sympathy, while cursing the English language for not having separate words for sympathy and apology.
Remy tried to smile at him and failed. "Hell, Bobby," he got out, "I don't know how much more I can take." Remy passed the joint back to Bobby and went back to the bookshelves to look at Bobby's books.
"What do you mean, Rem?" Bobby asked carefully.
Remy sighed deeply and turned away from the books. He walked over to Bobby's window seat and sat, carefully. "I got bout four more blisterings coming to me. One for driving de damn bike t'rough de bike trails when I was drunk and fucked up which will be a doozy dat I don' wan.' And den for lyin' and den for not bein' where I sposed to be as communications liaison." His voice shook slightly.
Remy stared out the window and tried to control his anxiety. He felt tears stinging in his eyes and a lump in his throat. Bobby looked at him with alarmed concern. "Hey, Rem," he said softly. "I'm sorry."
"I'm okay," Remy said bravely. Then his voice shook again. "I jus' hate not knowin' whose kid I am. Feel like I don' belong nowhere and t' not'ing."
"Remy," Bobby said carefully. "Your Dad loves you. And so does Logan, a whole hell of a lot. And Storm."
"He's not really my Dad," Remy said with irritation. "I was a damn experiment in genetic engineering. Just a damn lab project. No one really gives a damn bout me." The Lush CD ended. Remy rose and put in Genesis. He went back to the window seat and sat back down.
"Oh, c'mon, Rem," Bobby objected. "Can you really sit there and tell me that your Dad and Logan and Storm don't care about you? That's nuts. They all love you."
"He's not really my father," Remy exploded. "I was just some kind of lab project. And I'm over an' beyond fucked up. I shouldn't even be alive. No one really wan'ed me t' be alive in dis world. I ain't got no father or mother. No one wants t' claim me. I'm some kind of misfit hybrid."
Bobby looked at Remy with more alarmed concern. "Rem," he said, gently. "You're taking all this much too hard. It doesn't matter whose kid you are." Remy stared out the window and thought about what Bobby had said. He was feeling extremely irritable and out of sorts.
Bobby passed the joint back to him. "Will you, please, lighten up," he suggested. Remy drew deep and held the smoke in his lungs. He felt a buzz and drew again, then passed the jay back to Bobby.
"I'll try, mon ami," he said quietly, trying to recapture the good mood he'd been in just moments before. The joint came back to him and he drew deeply again. The music helped. Remy started to move to the beat. It captured him. Bobby sighed with relief and took the joint back from his friend. He toked hard and passed it back.
Remy drew deeply again and grinned as his shoulders moved to the rhythm of the music playing. The muscles in his back participated. "Okay," he said. "I'm sorry. T'ink dat I was maybe feeling sorry for myself."
Bobby grinned back at him. "Hey," he said, "who else gonna do that for you?" Remy laughed and passed the joint back to Bobby. Bobby drew again, held his breath, and tried to speak, "Seriously, Remy, I care. But I really think you should take some damn time to have some fun. I think you need it."
His voice was hoarse and raspy as he held the smoke in his lungs. Remy laughed again. "You right, mon ami. I need t' have some fun. Like wit de little tree."
Bobby had gotten out the roach clip and took another drag before passing the roach over to Remy. "So, will you, please, lighten up?" he requested.
Remy relit the stub of the joint and inhaled. "Bobby," he said. "If you were facin' what I be facin' in de next few days, could you lighten up?"
"Wouldn't be easy," Bobby said as he started laughing, hard. "I'm sorry, Rem, but if I was facing what you are, I'd be on the fucking, goddamm space shuttle to get away." Bobby continued to laugh helplessly. "Hell, I think I'd run away and join the damn circus."
Remy laughed and started to sing along with Phil Collins:
"You know I love you, But I just can't just take this.
You know I love you, But I'm playing for keeps.
Although I need you, I'm not gonna make this.
You know I want you, but I'm in too deep."
Remy took the remote and skipped the next song, listened for a few moments and skipped the next one, too. Listened again, and skipped again and again to the end of the CD.
He sighed deeply and looked at Bobby. "Sorry, guy, but I gotta go talk to Logan," he said quietly. "Dis been fun, but I don't care how high I am, I can't let go of what's going on."
Bobby shrugged. "Is no problem, Rem."
Remy stood and started toward the door. He grinned again at Bobby.
"Killer in me is the killer in you," he said. Bobby grinned back and waved goodbye.
* * *
Remy went down the hall toward the stairs and the professor's mental voice landed in his head. *Remy, I'm in my study. Would you, please, come talk to me?"
Remy took a deep breath and answered, Yes, sir. He went down the stairs and headed for the study.
Charles was in his wheelchair, looking out the one unbroken window when Remy entered. He turned to his son, and sighed deeply before he spoke.
"Remy," he said quietly, "I know about the memory you recovered about me and your mother. It came through my link with you."
"And?" Remy said warily.
"And, I know how upset you are," Charles said. "I want you to know that I don't care where your DNA comes from. I know this link and your memories of me. I am your father and I love you."
Remy sat down on the couch and glared at his feet. "Oh, yeah," he said. "You're sposed t' be my fat'er, huh? But I got almost none of your DNA. I ain't no one's. I'm just a product of fuckin' genetic engineering."
Charles turned his wheelchair to look at the young Cajun. "Remy," he said, "obviously I wanted a child or I would not have gone to so much trouble. You were wanted."
"By you, maybe." Remy continued to stare at the ground. "Seems dat my mot'er didn' wan' me at all. An' dat you and her not real happy dat I got born. Caused you problems tween each o'ter. I t'ink maybe it would've been better dat I just not be here."
Charles put a hand to his head, wishing he had hair to pull out. "Remy, you are my son. I don't care how you were constructed. Child, I don't care whose DNA we used."
"Oh, yeah," Remy said, bitterly. "An' you were just happy as hell dat I caused serious fights tween you and Lilandra. . .Fuck it, all. All dis shit be in your future an' you don' really know one damn t'ing bout it. Would've been better for everyone if I had not been born." He stood and looked at the professor. "I don' know why we talkin' bout dis. What's de point?"
Charles sighed again. "Remy, why are you so angry?" he asked gently.
Remy paced. "Oh, gee, let's see if we could guess," he spat out. "I'm just a total fuck-up as a person. I screw up every damn time dat I turn around. An,' now, I find out dat I was some kind of experiment t' begin wit. I t'ink dat it was a failure. Can I be excused, please? I don' know what else we gotta talk bout." Remy continued to pace up and down the room.
"I'm real damn sorry dat I was born," Remy snapped out. "An,' y'know what? You don' even yet know de worst of what I did b'fore I got here."
"Remy," Charles said sharply, "you're not listening to me at all."
Remy glared at him. "What de hell is dere t' listen t'?" he asked. "Dere ain't no way I should've ever existed. Just made problems for ever'one. And all I done since den was cause more problems for everyone." He glared at Charles. "An' I never knew where I came from and who I belonged t.' Den I seem t' find out and den it all turns out dat I just some big, damn mistake, anyway."
He continued pacing and then suddenly whirled on the professor. "Who de hell did you t'ink you were t' being playin' God and just creating me out of scraps and leftovers? So I don' really belong to no one? And never will an' never can." Remy felt an urge to throw something or break something or explode something. He balled his hands into fists and struggled to contain his rage as he resumed his furious pacing up and down the room. "It's no fucking goddam wonder dat I always in trouble of some kind cause I shouldn' never been born t' begin wit. I'm a goddam fuck-up cause you created a goddam fuck- up. An' I don' know why de hell you wan'ed t' do somet'ing so damn stupid."
"Remy," Charles started, his voice warm and concerned.
"DON'!!!" Remy said loudly. "DON' fucking talk t' me like dat. You ain't really got no reason to care bout me. An' I don' even wan' t' be cared bout. Just STOP it."
Charles felt his own temper starting to fray a little. "How exactly do you want me to talk to you, Remy?" he asked coolly.
"Maybe I don' fuckin' wan you t' talk t' me at all," Remy spat out. "An' if you won' excuse me, I gonna get outta here any fucking way." He walked to the door and slammed it hard on his way out.
REMY!!!! the professor's voice sounded in his head.
Leave me de fuck alone, Remy sent back with his mental voice full of rage. He got silence in return.
* * *
Charles turned back to the unbroken window and gazed out. Through his link with his son, he could sense that Remy was headed for Logan. He was hurt and dismayed. He understood why Remy was so angry, but it wasn't pleasant to be the recipient of the rage.
He was overtaken by concern as he thought to Logan's most probable response to Remy's anger. He really didn't think Wolverine would have infinite stores of patience with the young man's raging tantrum. But, he realized that he and his son had time to work out whatever problems existed. He tried to calm himself and tried to turn his mind to work that had to be done, but he continued to worry about Remy even as he turned to computer.
* * *
Remy walked into the kitchen still seething with rage. Logan was rolling pieces of snapper in flour and dropping them into a boiling sauce of beef broth and white wine in which floated sauteed green peppers, garlic, and scallions. Rogue was shaping shrimp batter into cakes for the fritters and Sam was slicing French bread.
Remy slammed himself down on one of the kitchen chairs, grimaced, and almost jumped up again as pain shot up his backbone. But he was too mad to give in to it. He glared down at the table.
Rogue looked over at him, noted the look on his face, and wisely decided to say little. "Hey, sugah," she said gently.
Remy looked up at her and tried to smile. He certainly wasn't mad at her. "Hi, cher," he said. "I not in a very good mood."
"That's rather obvious," Logan commented as he finished with the snapper and started rolling the deveined, beheaded shrimp in flour and dropping them into the broth.
"What's so fucking obvious bout it?" Remy demanded.
Logan looked over at him with a bemused expression. "Your face, your tone of voice. And then there's the matter of this link I have with you. Wanna talk about it, kiddo?"
Remy stood up abruptly, went to the kitchen door, opened it, and stepped halfway outside to light up a cigarette. "What's dere t' talk bout? I don' have any business existing," he muttered almost inaudibly.
"That memory of your Dad and Lilandra arguing?" Logan guessed with a deep sigh as he continued to flour the shrimp. He put the back of his hand to his forehead to wipe off the sweat and then sighed again as he turned to the sink to wash his hands again. He turned and looked at Remy carefully as the Cajun drew deeply on his cigarette.
"Mong ot'er t'ings," Remy answered. He glared out at the lake behind the house.
Rogue finished forming the batter into cakes and looked over at Logan.
"I don't want to fry those cakes until I've made the cheese sauce," Logan said, more to himself than to Rogue. He thought a moment. "Start coring the apples, Rogue, please. What other things, Remy?"
"T'ings dat I done in de past," Remy said, still staring out at the lake. Then he turned and glared at Logan. "An' wonderin' bout what's gonna happen after dinner."
Logan went back to the shrimp and was silent for several moments. "I'm not sure anything at all should happen after dinner, Rem. I imagine you're already sore as hell and probably bruised."
"I wan' t' get dis all over wit!" Remy said impulsively and explosively as he flicked his cigarette out into the yard. Without really meaning to, he charged the butt and it exploded with a loud pop before it landed, throwing sparks. All four of them started and Rogue and Sam turned to stare at Remy who closed his eyes and grimaced again.
"Sorry," he said. "I didn' mean t' do dat."
"Apology accepted," Logan said easily. He finished with the shrimp, turned the heat down under the broth, and started melting butter in a large sauce pan as he collected ingredients for the cheese sauce. "Remy, I understand that you want to get all of this punishment you have coming to you over with, but I'm not at all sure you have any sense of judgement about what you can handle. This has been a very rough day for you, kid. You need to calm down and eat and decompress."
Remy lit another cigarette and glowered at Logan. "I won' calm down. I don' wanna eat. An' I fuckin' hate you." He heard Rogue take a sharp breath and almost regretted the words just out of his mouth, but not quite.
Logan was gently stirring flour into the melted butter, mixing it carefully together into a bubbly yellow concoction. He took a deep breath and spoke carefully, "It's okay for you to hate me, Remy. And I can't make you calm down and I can't make you eat."
"You can' fucking make me do a damn ting," Remy spat out.
Logan poured cream into the butter and flour mixture and started stirring it, waiting for it to thicken. "Well," he said acerbically, "I may not be able to make you do any damn thing, and I can understand that you're upset and angry, but if you keep up much longer with this nasty rudeness, I might just take you up to your bedroom if you're lucky, or grab you right here in this kitchen if you're not, and administer some shock therapy that you won't enjoy."
Remy felt a stab to terror in his guts and froze for a moment. Then his anger took over again. "You do whatever de fuck you wan' t' do, asshole. I don' fuckin' care." He flipped his cigarette again, this time charging it on purpose and looked at Logan defiantly.
Logan sighed again. "Rogue," he said. "Stir this until it bubbles and thickens. Turn the heat way, way down, far as it'll go. Then put in the cayenne and lemon juice I measured out and dump in the cheese. Stir until the cheese is melted, then mix in the tomato paste and sherry. Just keep stirring til I get back. Sam, when you finish the bread, take over coring the apples."
He turned to Remy who hadn't moved. "Kiddo, you and me are going up to your room, right now." His voice was full of irritation. Remy felt icicles in his stomach. He considered refusing and thought about what would happen if he did. He came back into the kitchen, slamming the door hard, and rushed out in front of Logan, heading for the stairs and his room. Logan shook his head and went after him, walking slowly and hoping Remy would regain some control.
Sam looked over at Rogue. "What was that all about?" he asked.
She took a deep breath. "Ah'm not sure," she said. "Ah think Remy is kinda angry."
"Ah'd guess that ya might be right about that," Sam agreed as he finished the bread and turned to the apples.
* * *
Remy slammed the door of his room and went to his window. He stared out, still seething with rage. After a few moments, he heard the door open and shut again. He wasn't about to turn around.
"Remy," he heard Logan say. "It's not too late to fix this. I really don't want to punish you again."
He turned and gazed at Logan who was leaning against the wall beside the door with his arms crossed over his chest. "Why de fuck not?" he snapped. "Dat's de only reason I exist on dis planet. T' be punished." He turned his gaze back out the window, avoiding Logan's sternly concerned gaze. "Or t' fuck everyt'ing up so dat I deserve t' be punished."
He heard Logan sigh deeply. His stomach clenched. He didn't want to let go of his rage. He didn't want to give into the pain and tears that were under the rage. The pain was a black hole he didn't want to explore.
"Talk to me, Remy," Logan said. "If you want to tell me how angry you are, I'm willing to listen. Just talk to me, kidlet. You have every right in the world to be angry as hell."
Remy took a deep breath and whirled toward Logan. "What you know about it?" he demanded. ""What you know bout how it feels t' be unwanted, not cared bout, an' fuckin' abandoned?"
Logan raised an eyebrow and looked at him quizzically. Remy flushed. He looked back out the window. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Guess you know all bout dat stuff." He took a breath and gathered steam for his anger. "But what you know bout how it feels t' be punished over and over again?"
"Sorta felt that way when the Weapon X project was tearing me apart and puttin' me back together like they wanted me," Logan said, acidly. "You think, maybe, I wanted adamantium bonded to my bones? It hurt like fucking hell."
"Dey weren't de people you counted on t' love you," Remy objected.
"No, kiddo, they weren't," Logan agreed. "Point being?"
"I being punished over and over by de people I most need t' love me," Remy choked out, on the verge of tears. He didn't want to cry again. He just wanted to stay angry, and he held his breath for a moment. He heard Logan sigh again and out of the corner of his eye he saw Logan straighten up and start toward him. "Stay de fuck away from me, Logan," he demanded. "I'm fuckin' sick and damned tired of all dis shit."
Logan froze where he stood about halfway across the room. "What are you sick of, Remy?" he asked, starting again to feel irritated as hell at Remy's barrage of anger.
"I'm goddamm, mother-fucking sick and goddam tired of trying to be one of the saintly, righteous X-men," Remy said, bitterly. "I'm a thief an' a monster an' a total fuck-up an' I got no business even bein' here."
"This is your home, Remy," Logan said. "This is where you belong."
"I don' fuckin' belong anywhere," Remy said. "An' stop actin' like you care bout me. You just get off on acting like you everybody's fuckin' father figure. Feeds your fuckin' ego to be all wise and all knowin.'" Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Logan tense up.
"Remy, I am starting to lose my patience," Logan said, grimly. "I know you're upset as all hell, but I'm getting damn tired of how nasty you're being."
"An' you got so much damn patience to begin wit, don' you?" Remy said.
"No, actually, I don't have a hell of a lot of patience and you're right on the edge of using all of it up," Logan glared back at Remy and tried hard to hold on to his temper, which wasn't easy on the best of days. He had tried hard to understand and express his concern. Remy's obdurate insistence on being hostile and angry was starting to wear badly on his nerves.
"Well, den let's see how far I gotta go to use it all up right this fucking minute," Remy suggested. He glared out the window. "You t'ink dat you're so cool, takin' care of dis fucked up Cajun dat I am. An' dat's all you wan.' Is to t'ink you so damn, fuckin' cool. If you really gave a fucking damn bout me, you would have. . ." He was lost. He didn't know what to say. He took a breath and without thinking very clearly, decided to escalate. "You were such a good, fuckin' Daddy to me when I was little an' to Kitty when she was here an' to Jubilee. But I t'ink maybe you just wanted all of us to just fuckin' adore you so you could feel better about what a fucking monster you been in your damn life."
That hit a nerve deep in Logan's guts. He flinched and tried to hold on to his temper again, but he wasn't succeeding. "Oh, good point, Remy," he said caustically. "That just might cover all the bases about why I cared about you when you were little and about Kitty and Jubilee. Just trying to make up for all the damn mayhem I've participated in. So, why have I been so patient with you, these days? What the hell do I get out of it? When do I get my needs met?"
"You get your fuckin' damn needs met when you hold me and you get to feel damn loved and needed," Remy spat out. "But it's all just a damn con game. You just wan' t' be de damn wizard 'hind de curtain, pullin' everyone's strings and being worshiped and adored."
Logan's temper snapped. "And what do you want to be, kiddo?" he demanded. "The spoiled brat from hell who makes all our lives a miserable nightmare while we put up with you working out the damage of your childhood? Just how much of your shit do we have to put up with before you decide to grow up and act your age? Instead of acting like a demanding, needy brat?"
"FUCK YOU!" Remy was stung deeply.
"Not in this lifetime, kiddo," Logan said harshly. "I prefer women. Grown strong women. I have no attraction to petulant, whining adolescent boys. Never been there, never done that, and won't."
A surge of totally out of control rage swept through Remy. He raised his fist and smashed it through the window. Shards of glass lacerated his arm and he flinched away, bleeding, as Logan crossed the room like a flash and grabbed him, pulling him away from the broken glass.
Remy struggled, trying to pull away, but Logan held him firmly by the upper arm that wasn't wounded. A card appeared in Remy's hand which he charged, flinging it into Logan's face. Logan batted it away and it exploded against his hand, leaving blistered, burning flesh. Remy twisted away, producing another card. Logan held on to him tightly with his unburned hand while waving the other through the air and grimacing with pain.
"I ain't gonna fight you, kiddo," he said, with determination. "You struggle any damn more and I'll call for help. You want Scotty and Cable and Beast up here, right now, helping me hold you down while you get your cuts doctored and your bottom blistered?" Remy struggled again, not really listening. Logan repeated the threat.
The words sank in and Remy froze. "I hate you," he claimed, as he stopped fighting Logan's grip on his arm.
"Yeah, sure," Logan responded. "And, right now, kiddo, I'm not real happy with you." He dragged Remy down the hall to the bathroom and stuck his lacerated arm in the sink. He washed the cuts and bandaged them while Remy continued to glare at him.
"I really fuckin' hate you," he said over and over. Logan ignored him as he stopped the bleeding and covered the cuts with band-aids. Then he forced Remy back down the hall to his room, with Remy dragging his feet every inch of the way.
"Yeah, Rem," Logan spat out as they entered Remy's room. "You hate me. And you're going to hate me more when I get through with your butt, kiddo. You're about to get yourself spanked really long and hard."
A stab of terror shot through Remy's guts, almost overwhelming the anger, but not quite. "Oh, yeah," he commented. "You just love blistering folks. That's what you and Stormy get off on, isn't it? I've heard you guys. You get turned on by makin' me hurt, don' you? Makes your sex life more excitin.'"
Logan took a deep, deep breath and tried to control his rage. Remy's words stabbed. But he knew damn well that he got no pleasure from spanking this kid.
He bent Remy over against his hip and ripped down his jeans, tearing out the button and zipper. He put his hands into the waist band of Remy's underpants and jerked them down, too, baring the boy's bottom.
Icy terror clenched at Remy's guts. He tried hard to hold on to his anger and mostly succeeded. "Go, right ahead, damn you," he choked out. "Go ahead and get off on hurtin' me."
Logan looked down at Remy's bottom. There were a few faint bruises from his earlier spanking from Hank, but mostly there was unmarked pale flesh. He raised his hand and slammed it down hard.
Remy gasped and gasped again as Logan's hard hand continued to descend on his bare and smarting butt. "I hate you," he choked out. "I hate you."
He repeated himself over and over, trying hard not to cry. Despite his best efforts, tears welled in his eyes and started to spill down his face. He tried to pull away and Logan simply held him against him more tightly. His hand whacked against Remy's bottom with loud, resounding smacks as Remy gasped with pain. Remy was burning with pain when Logan paused, but he had still managed not to start sobbing.
"I think this one qualifies as you hurting yourself, kiddo," Logan said. "So, you go into the corner with your pants down. Now. And after 15 minutes in the corner, you go back over my knees for another spanking." Logan smacked Remy's butt every step over to the corner, bent him over, and delivered about ten more spanks to his bare butt. Remy desperately held his pants up in front and tried to move away from the pain of the blazing whacks against his butt. He was frantic to escape. It hurt badly.
Logan left him standing bare bottomed in the corner, went to the bed and sat down. He took a deep, deep breath and tried to calm down. He was already beginning to feel guilty as hell for spanking the kid while he was angry, but he realized that Remy had been asking for it. It hurt him to his heart to punish this kid he loved so deeply no matter how explicitly Remy had been asking for it. He went deep inside himself and tried to find his center.
Remy stood, gasping with pain and rage in the corner. He was still determined not to cry, but he felt unbearably humiliated. The minutes ticked by, slowly, and tears of anger stung in his eyes. All he could think was, Not fair, not fair, not fucking fair. Tears of frustration ran down his face. A sob escaped and then another. He held his breath and stopped it.
Logan felt as if it was the longest 15 minutes of his very long life. He watched the clock for almost every second. And breathed a deep sigh of relief when it was over.
Logan walked over to the corner, took Remy by the arm, and pulled him back to the bed, slamming him down over his knees. He jerked Remy's pants down farther to the middle of this thighs, looked down at his still red bottom and started to spank it again firmly. It got much redder very quickly.
It was too much. Tears spilled down Remy's face. He really didn't want to cry, but he couldn't help himself. He was in too much pain. Hurting bad. Choking up. His bottom blazed.
"Please, stop," he begged. "It hurts. Please, stop." Logan nodded and continued to spank. Remy started sobbing desperately.
"I'm sorry," he choked out, willing to say anything to stop the fiery pain, but not really meaning it. "I'm sorry." Logan looked down at the very red bottom over his lap and sighed deeply. He delivered ten more sharp and stinging smacks. Remy cried out at each blow and sobbed hard. Logan stopped.
"It's okay, kidlet," Logan said gently. "It's okay." Logan took Remy's pants back up and turned him in his arms to hold him. Remy jerked away.
"I don' wan' you to hold me," he gulped out. "I don' wan' you to fucking touch me. I hate you. I do." He curled up on his side on his bed and cried hard. "I wan' Rogue."
Logan rolled his eyes and begged the ceiling for patience. "If you want Rogue, kiddo, I'll send her up here to you. And, again, it's okay for you to hate me. Doesn't change the fact that I love you and when you want me, I'll be here for you."
Remy sobbed even harder. "I wan' Rogue," he said again. "An' I never gonna stop hating you. Never."
"Okay, okay, kidlet, I hear you," Logan said with impatience. "I got it. You hate me. And you want Rogue."
"An' I wanna. . . get all dis over wit," Remy said clearly. "An den. . . I just fuckin' wanna leave. I hate. . . all of you."
Logan shook his head and responded, "Got it, Remy. You want to get all your spankings over with. I don't blame you, kiddo. And I'll send Rogue up here to be with you. No problem. But, kiddo, you ain't leaving. We all love you too damn much to allow you to leave."
Remy heard what Logan had said and on some level, he was relieved. His sobs quieted slightly and he drew his pillow up to his arms and held it against his stomach as he cried.
Logan stood and looked down at the sobbing boy on the bed. "I'm outta here, Rem," he said. "And I'll send Rogue up. But I want you to calm down and come down in a bit and eat. You can't starve yourself and I've been cooking all afternoon to make something you might feel like eating."
"What gonna happen. . .after dinner?" Remy sobbed out.
Logan sighed again. "I guess that I'm going to go ahead and give you the spanking you have coming to you for riding your bike while you were drunk and on drugs, kiddo," he said. "And I'm sorry. I don't really want to do it. But you wanna get all this over with and I'll do as you ask."
Remy felt an odd combination of relief, fear, and continuing anger. "If you gonna do it. . .I wan' you t' go ahead an' do it," he choked out. "An I still hate you."
"Jesus fuck, Remy," Logan growled. "How in hell do you want me to respond to you telling me over and over that you hate me? You want me to hate you, too?"
"I don' fuckin' care," Remy hugged the pillow tightly against himself as Logan's question went through him like a knife. He held on to his anger even harder than he was clutching the pillow.
Logan was almost totally out of patience. "So, if you don' fucking care, why the hell should I?" he demanded. "I don't fucking hate you, kiddo, but I tell you the truth, I don't fucking like you very much right this minute."
"Good," Remy snapped. "I don' wan' you to fucking care bout me."
"Goddammit, Remy, I didn't fucking say I didn't care about you," Logan said with frustrated exasperation. "I said I didn't like you much right this minute. And I think I need to get the hell out of this room before you provoke me into blistering your bottom again which I'm just about on the edge of doing."
"I DON' WAN YOU T' CARE BOUT ME!" Remy sat up on the bed wincing as his sore bottom hit the surface. "I FUCKIN' HATE YOU!" Without thinking clearly at all, he abruptly charged up the pillow he was holding and threw it hard at Logan's face.
Logan's eyes widened in shock and he got his hands up quickly to bat the pillow away. It exploded as it struck his arms, burning them badly and blowing off half the front of his shirt.
Remy froze in horror and stared as Logan grimly threw the remains of the pillow to the floor and glared intensely at the Cajun on the bed. Ignoring the pain in his hands and arms, Logan reached down to his waist and started to unbuckle his belt. "That's it, kiddo," Logan said with quiet, infuriated grimness. "You're about to get your bottom strapped until you're fucking screaming with pain. I have fucking had it."
Remy's face went white as the blood drained from it. He felt sick with fear and remained frozen as he watched Logan pull his belt off. He still hadn't managed to take a breath when he was grabbed by the arm and again pulled down over Logan's knees. Remy's face slammed down against the comforter covering his bed and his bottom was jerked into position over Logan's huge and muscular left thigh.
Remy felt Logan's hands at the waist of his jeans which were snatched down to his knees, followed immediately by his underpants. His stomach clenched and filled with icy terror as he felt the cool air of his room on his already sore and burning bottom. Then Logan's doubled up belt whistled through the air and descending with a resounding whack on Remy's bare and defenseless bottom globes, burning and stinging across both.
Remy gasped loudly with pain, but before the gasp was thoroughly out, the belt snapped down again. The gasp turned into a yelping cry of pain and he cried out again and again as the leather strapped across his burning butt, hurting like hell and leaving ribbons of red and blazing fire. He started to writhe and tried desperately to get away.
Logan pinned Remy's legs with his own leg across them and continued to strap Remy's bottom and upper thighs. Despite his fury with the boy, Logan maintained control and managed to deliver the whacking smacks of the belt so that they stung like hell without leaving welts. He watched the long red lines of the belting on Remy's bottom carefully, making sure they covered every inch of his butt and thighs without cutting.
Remy felt as if he were being slashed to pieces. Within moments he was sobbing as if his heart were being broken. Within several more moments, he was wailing like a child.
"I'm. . .s. . .s . . .sorry. . . L. . .L . . .Logan. . .pl. . .please. . .st. . . stop," he sobbed out.
"What happened to 'I hate you?' What happened to 'I don't want you to care about me?'" Logan asked, furiously, as he continued to strap Remy's bottom to a deep and flaming shade of crimson red.
Remy was crying so hard that he almost couldn't talk. All he could manage was continuing broken apologies and pleas for this intensely painful spanking to stop.
But Logan kept to his word. He continued to strap the hell out of Remy's bottom until Remy started screaming with pain, utterly wordless and gasping with agony, sobbing so hard that not one word could get out. Then Logan stopped, took a deep breath, and felt sick himself. Remy's bottom and thighs were the dark red of a new brick and Remy was crying so hard that his entire body was shaking.
Logan's hands started to tremble and he dropped the belt as if it were a poisonous snake. All of his anger drained out of him like water flushing from a toilet and he felt as soiled as a sewer.
"Oh, gods, Rem," he said shakily as he let go of 'his' kid and gently pushed him face down on his bed. "You stay put right here and let me go get some aloe to put on your butt."
"NO!" Remy gasped out, still shaking with sobs. "N. . .no. . .pl. . .please, don'. . .l. . .leave. . . me. . ."
"Remy," Logan gently stroked his back. "We need to get some aloe and ice on your bottom right damn now. I'm scared as hell that I've really hurt you."
"D. . .don't. . .c. . .care. . .Just. . .pl. . .please. . .d. . .don't leave me," Remy choked. "I'm. . .I'm. . .sc. . .scared."
"What on earth are you scared about, kidlet?" Logan asked, his voice still shaking. He was scared as hell himself. Frightened by his own anger and terrified that he had really gone too far in the strapping he had just given the kid. He was shaking almost as hard as Remy.
"D. . .dat. . .I blew. . .it. . .Dat. . . you. . .you. . .d. . . don'. . ."
"That I don't love you, any more?" Logan guessed. Remy nodded. "Kidlet, we'll get ice and aloe on your butt in a minute. Right now, I think you need your pants back up and to be in my arms." Remy nodded again, convulsively, as he sobbed his guts out. Logan pulled his pants up over his very sore butt and Remy winced, but he took a deep and grateful breath as Logan pulled him into his arms, leaning back against the head of the bed and holding him tightly. Remy put his arms around Logan's chest and put his face into Logan's shoulder.
"Remy, I love you," Logan said quietly. "I love you more than I know how to tell you. You're my kid, kiddo. And I'm sorry as hell that I just totally lost it and spanked you harder than I've ever spanked anyone before."
Remy's sobs quieted slightly and then quieted more as he relaxed into the embrace of Logan's arms. "I really. . .p. . .pushed. . .you," he admitted.
"Yeah, kidlet, you really pushed me hard," Logan acknowledged. "And I lost it, completely. I don't remember the last time I got that mad. And I'm sorry as hell."
"I. . . l. . .love you, too," Remy sobbed out.
"Yeah, kiddo, I know," Logan said. He was still trembling, but he tried to control it as he held his kid. Logan hugged him fiercely and felt tears burning in his own eyes. "Remy, could we please, please, never go this far again?" he asked. "I don't think I could take it."
Remy nodded and started trying to pull himself back together. He felt utterly defenseless and vulnerable. "I'm sorry," he said. "Bout charging de damn pillow at you."
"And I'm sorry that I took off my belt and blistered you so badly," Logan said.
They were both completely silent for several minutes while trying to recover from the violence and intensity of what they had just experienced. Logan simply held the Cajun tightly and Remy cried himself into a state of peace and quiet.
Remy pulled himself out of Logan's arms and looked up into his face. "I still hate you," he said shakily with a tremulous grin.
Logan rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure, kiddo. You hate me. Just about as much as I hate you. And we gotta get some ice and aloe on your bottom, kidlet. I'm really worried that I hurt you bad."
"You did." Remy started sobbing again and Logan pulled him back into a fierce embrace.
"I'm sorry, Rem," he said gently. "I'm really sorry."
Remy nodded, his tears soaking what was left of Logan's shirt. "I hate me," he said so softly that it was almost inaudible.
"Yeah, I know that, kidlet," Logan said. "And it's gotta get fixed. And real soon. I'm damn tired of it. Bet you are, too." Remy nodded and continued to cry as Logan held him.
There was a gentle knock on the door and Hank stuck his head in. "I was told by the professor that there might be a need for some ice bags and aloe up here," Hank said.
Logan nodded gratefully. "Thanks, Hank," he said. "And could you, please, hang around for a moment?"
"I was planning to," Hank agreed. Hank put the medical supplies down on Remy's bedside table. He took the chair from Remy's desk, pulled it over near the bed, turned it and sat down, straddling the seat with his legs and with his arms folded on the back. "What happened up here?" he asked quietly. "I heard most of it, but I didn't get it all."
"In a minute, Hank," Logan replied. "Remy, do you want some relief from the pain in your butt right now or do you want me to go on holding you while I tell Hank what happened?"
"H. . .hold. . . me," Remy gulped out, not at all sure he wanted to hear an explanation of what had happened.
And as Logan started to tell Hank fairly and accurately exactly what had happened, Remy's stomach filled with ice again and he cried even harder while he listened to the description of his behavior with Logan. When the incident with the pillow was narrated, he started crying so hard that his guts hurt and his whole body shook.
Logan stopped talking for a moment and stroked Remy's back gently. "It's okay, kidlet," he said gently. "It's okay, now."
"N. . .no. . .no. . .it's not," Remy objected. "I. . .sh. . .shouldn' have. . . I sh. . ."
"Hush, Remy," Logan said. "Hush. Of course, you shouldn't have, but you did. And you've been more than thoroughly punished for doing it and it's over. All the burns have healed and I'm fine. I forgive you, kiddo. Would you please fucking forgive yourself?"
"Of course, you absolutely destroyed this shirt," Logan added as a bemused afterthought. "Guess it's a good thing for you that it wasn't exactly one of my favorites." Logan grinned wryly and Remy managed a weak chuckle even as he continued to cry.
"What did you do, Logan?" Hank asked.
Logan sighed deeply and told him. Hank blinked several times as Logan described his anger and the severe strapping he had given the Cajun.
"Stars and garters, Logan," Hank said with quiet sympathy in his voice. "Are you going to be able to forgive yourself?"
"Don't plan to think about till later," Logan said with a grimace.
"Logan, he was asking for it," Hank said. "I think you might have had to have spanked him that hard to get through to him."
"Doesn't mean that I feel good about blistering the kid while I was that angry," Logan said. "And I don't think now is the best time to discuss what I might be feelin.'" He looked down at Remy and looked back up at Hank who nodded his agreement.
"I don' wan' you t' feel bad, Logan," Remy said. His sobs had been quieting, but he his voice caught again as he voiced his objection.
"Heard and understood, kid," Logan said, hugging him hard. "Besides it's water under the bridge or over the dam or wherever the hell water goes when Bobby isn't freezing it into ice sculptures. You about ready to get some relief for the pain in your bottom?"
Remy nodded. Within moments he was face down on his bed, pulling his pants down himself and flinching with pain as the material slid down his blistered skin. Hank gasped as he saw Remy's red, striped butt and Logan shot him a look.
"Thank you, Hank," he said with irony. "I really needed that."
"Sorry, Logan." Hank said. "I do think this boy is gonna have some bruises, but that's not to say he didn't earn them."
Logan slathered aloe on Remy's bottom. Remy sighed deeply as the fluid brought some relief. And then sighed again as the ice bags were put on.
"I want you to stay put just like this till dinner is ready," Logan directed. "Just take the ice off every ten or fifteen minutes and then put it back on. You can forget about that damn window for today and do it tomorrow. And you can damn well forget about collecting any more of the spankings you have coming to you after dinner. You're too bruised now for me to even think about it."
Remy thought about that for a moment and realized that he felt nothing but relief. He really didn't think he could endure another spanking until his bottom recovered from the one he had just had. He nodded his acceptance.
"I've got to get back downstairs and finish with dinner," Logan said worriedly. "I can put on some music for you if you like."
"You gonna leave me here alone?" Remy asked, trying hard to sound calm and steady.
"I was gonna send Rogue up here to be with you," Logan explained. "And Hank could stay with you until Rogue gets here."
"No problem, Remy," Hank said.
"I don't need no one t' stay wit me," Remy said with bravado.
Logan rolled his eyes and Hank frowned at him, shaking his head in warning. "Of course you don't need anyone to stay with you, Remy," Hank said easily. "But, I'd like to stay if you don't mind."
"Sure," Remy said with relief. Logan looked toward the ceiling and rolled his eyes again.
"You got more patience than I got, McCoy," he said with a shake of his head and a faint smile on his face.
"And a hell of a lot more tact." Hank grinned.
* * *
Logan walked into the kitchen. Rogue was still stirring the cheese sauce while giving Sam directions for frying the fritters.
She turned to Logan with her eyes full of anxiety. "Is Remy okay?" she asked.
"I think he's mostly okay, Rogue," Logan said. "But he's hurting and he wants you. I think you should go keep him company until dinner. Sam and I can manage without you from here on out."
"Thanks, Logan," Rogue gave him a swift hug and before the startled Logan could even respond she was gone with the door swinging shut behind her.
Logan looked over at what Sam was doing and nodded. "You're doin' fine, Sam. You keep on with the fritters and I'll make the dessert." He grabbed the cookbook off the table and glared at it for a few moments.
"Can ah ask what's goin' on?" Sam ventured.
"You can ask, kid." Logan grinned at him. "I ain't promising you answers, cause I'm not real damn sure myself just what exactly is going on. But I could tell you what happened upstairs."
"Please?" Sam grinned back at him. Logan turned on the oven and started mixing together currants, pecans, and cinnamon sugar to stuff in the cored apples. He gave Sam an edited version of the events that had occurred upstairs, minimizing the violent intensity of the incident. Sam was the youngest and newest member of the X-men, for all that he been with the X-Force kids for years. Logan didn't want to shock the boy too badly.
Sam listened intently as he fried the fritters and fished them out to drain on paper towels. His eyes widened several times, but he made no comment until Logan finished. "Geez," he said then. "What on earth was going on with Remy that made him so mad?"
Logan finished dabbing butter all over the apples in their baking pans, poured the wine over them, and sprinkled them with more cinnamon sugar. "Now, you're asking me one of the questions I don't have the answer to, Sam," he said as he thrust the pans into the oven. "And thank Ifnie, this blasted meal is almost ready. All we gotta do is fry that bread in butter. And put the saffron in the bouillabaisse." He was thinking aloud as he finished up the elaborate meal he had planned.
The kitchen was a disaster area. Logan looked around and chuckled. "And while those apples are baking, I think we might should clean up a little or Warren is going to be on the war path. You just about finished with those fritters, Sam?"
"Done," Sam said, scooping the last one out of the olive oil.
"You wanna fry bread while I clean or vice versa?" Logan asked.
"Clean," Sam said. Logan nodded and started melting butter in a large pan.
"About why Remy was so mad," Logan said thoughtfully. "To be honest, kid, I think Remy had a hell of a lot to be mad about. It's time for him to get angry as hell. He just needs to learn how to get it out constructively, and I sure as hell know, myself, that ain't easy."
Sam nodded and continued putting left over ingredients away and cleaning counters. "Is he gonna be okay?" he asked tentatively.
"I sure hope so." Logan sighed and then remembered who he was talking to. "Yeah, Sam, I think he'll be okay." He finished frying the bread and started to help Sam clean. "Oh, hell," Logan said, suddenly. He turned to a com unit and asked for Bobby.
"Yo," Bobby voice came through. Logan could hear Skinny Puppy playing faintly in the background.
"You waitin' on Remy to work on that window?" Logan asked.
"Yep."
"Well, stop waiting and do something else. He ain't gonna be working on no windows today. You guys can do it tomorrow."
"That's fine by me," Bobby said cheerfully.
"Good, dinner in about ten. Signing off." Logan turned away from the com unit and went back to cleaning.
* * *
Rogue entered Remy's room and stifled her gasp of dismay as she found Remy face down on his bed with the ice bags on his bottom.
"Hey, sugah," she said quietly. Hank stood and patted Remy on the shoulder as the Cajun shrugged off the ice bags and pulled his underwear and jeans back up. Rogue was not able to stifle her gasp as she saw the condition of his butt. "Remy, what on earth happened up here?" she demanded.
"I guess I kinda got myself in trouble again," Remy said quietly, rolling over and holding his arms out to gather her in.
"Hello, Rogue and I'm on my way out," Hank said as he headed for the door. "See you at dinner, Remy."
"See you, Hank," Remy said as he held Rogue.
"Hi, Hank and bye," Rogue said vaguely as she took her Genoshan collar out of her pocket and put around her neck. She pressed her lips against Remy's face and gave a distracted wave to Hank. Hank grinned as he closed the door.
Rogue pressed her body hard against Remy's. "Sugah, what happened here t'night? Why is yar bottom so blistered?"
Remy explained, with frequent pauses to kiss and caress and hold each other. Rogue listened while holding him tightly and nuzzling her face against his. "Ya weren't bein' very nice to Logan, sugah," she commented when he told her the things he had said. "Ah don't think he deserved all that."
Remy flushed and nodded, going on to tell her about smashing out the window and cutting his hand and arm. Rogue took his bandaged hand and gently kissed it and then put her arms back around him and kissed long and deep. "Ya were really askin' for it, weren't ya?" she murmured when they came up for air. Remy nodded and continued the story.
Rogue wasn't very surprised that Remy had been thoroughly and immediately spanked. She continued to caress and kiss him as he told her about the interaction afterward until he told her about charging up his pillow and throwing it at Logan. Her eyes widened and she leaned back to look at his face. Remy shrugged helplessly, looking miserable.
"Remy," she said, shaking her head, "ya tired of livin' on this planet? Ya're damn lucky Logan didn't go berserk."
"I really fucked up," he said quietly. Rogue nodded, in serious agreement. "An' Logan sorta did get real mad."
"Ah'd guess he sorta had the right to, sweetie," Rogue said, hugging Remy tightly. "What'd he do?"
"He took his belt off, told me he'd fucking had it with me, and strapped me until I was screamin,'" Remy said, his face burning with shame. Tears stung in his eyes again as he held on to Rogue. She hugged him hard and kissed each of his eyelids.
"Sugah," she said gently, "ah'm real sorry ya got spanked so hard, but it kinda sounds to me lak ya earned it." Remy nodded and a couple of tears slid down his face. Rogue kissed him again and started to stroke his back. "Ah love ya, Remy. Ah don't want you to hurt so bad."
"I fucked up and got my butt blistered good and hard. I deserved it," Remy said. He was starting to feel aroused as Rogue's hands stroked him. "But, now I got you in my arms and I love you. Cherie, I love you, more dan I know how t' say." He took one of her hands and started to lick and suck on each of her fingers. She sighed and kissed him deeply again.
"Ah love ya, too, Remy," Rogue murmured as she again kissed him hard. His tongue slid into her and she gasped with pleasure. She shivered and clutched him tighter. Her legs wrapped around his waist. They pressed tightly against one another, their hands stroking one another on the back and sides. Rogue leaned her body back and ran her strong palms up the front of Remy's t-shirt and then reached inside of it, caressing every inch of his chest. His hands pulled her shirt out of the waist band of her jeans, slowly starting to unbutton, reaching inside the opening with each button undone and stroking the skin he found there.
Rogue arched her back and threw her head back as the skin below her breasts tingled at his touch. Remy moved his mouth to her neck and ran kisses up and down each side as he continued unbuttoning her shirt and stroking and caressing what he found inside. His lips moved down to the hollow of her throat. Rogue gasped and grabbed him by the upper arms, holding on tight as his hands and mouth met at her breasts. Remy slipped the shirt off and her long hair swung freely against her bare back as she writhed from the pleasure he was giving her. Her pelvis started to rock.
Remy grinned and continued what he was doing, vastly enjoying the little moans Rogue gasped out.
Suddenly, she sat up straight, grabbed his ears, pulled him up straight and kissed him long and deep. He put one hand on each side of her face and held it as they locked their mouths together and spent an eternity trying to swallow each other's tongues. Her hands ran up and down his back and then hooked into the tail of this shirt and pulled it up to his arm pits. He grinned again, pausing in their kiss and raised his arms, allowing her to pull the shirt off over his head. They paused for a moment and looked into one another's eyes.
"I love you, ma cher," Remy said softly. The physical expression of their love was so new and precious to both of them that each was almost drunk on the feelings and unable to stop themselves from saying it over and over. "And ah love you, Remy," she responded. He kissed her again and they played with each other's lips, teasing with the tips of their tongues and biting gently on each other's mouths until Remy finally pulled her face to his and thrust his tongue deep into her mouth. She gasped, shivered, and thrust her body hard against his. Their hands started moving again.
Remy's head went back to her breasts and he turned her, putting her down on the bed. His hands went to the button of her jeans, and he undid it, sliding the zipper down and reaching into the waist of her panties. Rogue shivered again and lifted her hips to help him slide the pants down to her legs. His head followed, licking her everywhere, as his hands continued to stroke her sides and caress her butt. He pulled both jeans and panties down to her knees and off . His lips started at the instep of her foot and moved back up her legs, alternating back and forth.
By the time he began to nibble the inside of her thighs while he held her by the hips, Rogue was moaning again.
"Ah love you, Remy," she gasped.
"Ditto," Remy raised his head and smiled up at her. He put his head back down between her legs and continued to nibble and lick at the inside of her thighs. Her body writhed and she tangled her fingers in Remy's hair. He grinned again as she moved her legs apart.
His mouth move higher and his tongue started to stroke against the folds of her lower lips. He teased and played for long moments as she gasped. And then, he moved his tongue to the center of her aching pleasure. Every muscle in her body vibrated.
She went away inside her head, remembering the feelings she had had when Remy had spanked her. And she imagined what it might have been like when Remy had been blistered earlier that evening. Her breath came short, sharp, and fast. And, she exploded into a rushing, all consuming flame of delighted, intense ecstasy.
Her hands in Remy's hair pushed him away as she stretched on the bed like a satisfied cat, moaning with rapture.
Remy leaned up and looked into the face of this woman he loved as her face reflected the waves dancing through her. She sighed deeply and again stretched every muscle, sighing. She grabbed his head again and pulled it up to her face, kissing him hard and long.
Her hands slid down to his jeans, with their button and zipper still undone. She pulled his pants and underwear down and rolled him over. Remy winced as his sore butt hit the bed. But he was soon distracted.
Her tongue came down on the tip of his cock and she started to lick it like an ice cream cone. Then she moved her mouth and tongue up and down the shaft, paying special attention to the vein that stood out. She put her mouth to her own hand and coated it with saliva which she slathered up and down his hardness. Her mouth closed over the tip and slid down until her wet and slippery hand met her lips. And her mouth went further and further down his cock.
She move her body to open her throat and slid his entire hardness deep inside. The muscles inside her neck spasmed and clutched at his sensitive, nerve endings. He jerked on the bed as she moved her mouth up and down, repeating it again and again. His body started to convulse and he grabbed her head and pulled her off.
"I wanna be in you in when I come," he gasped. Rogue grinned and drew her lips and tongue up his stomach to his chest, his neck and his lips.
"Ah love ya, sugah," she said as she positioned her body above his. She put her fingers to her mouth, reached down and coated the head of his cock with wetness. And then, she slid down on top of him, grinding her pelvis against him and slipping her clit back and forth against his hardness. She came close to screaming, as orgasm after orgasm rushed through her body. She continued to thrust against him over and over. His body rose to meet hers and pushed against her hard as he groaned.
"Oh, God, Remy, I love ya," she gasped out. She slid her hands under his bottom, holding it hard. Remy gasped with pain and delight and shuddered as he blew sky high, ejaculating into her.
"An' I love you, too," he said. "I love you. I love you. I love you." He sighed deeply and raised his head to kiss her again.
Rogue giggled and hugged him tightly. "Ah love ya more than you could know, sugah," she said. They were still drunk with this new found love and couldn't stop repeating the words.
Remy raised his face and looked into her eyes. "Ditto," he said. "Ditto, ditto, ditto. I wan' t' be with you forever."
Rogue grinned up into his eyes. "Ah think that might could be arranged, sugah," she said.
"T'ank all de damn gods," Remy said fervently. "I love you more dan anything."
"Good," Rogue said. "Cause ah love ya more than any damn thing ma'self." Remy kissed her deeply again.
The com unit chimed. "Dinner's about on the table." They heard Logan say. They smiled at one another.
"Guess we should go eat," Remy said, staring up into the face of this woman he loved. She smiled back at him.
"Sounds like a good plan to me," Rogue said. "And I love you. I love you. I love you."
"Ditto, ditto, ditto," Remy said back, as Rogue slid off of him and curled up beside him on the bed. He put his arms around her and held her closely.