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Origins	By : jukeboxcsi Category: X-men Comics > Slash - Male/Male > Remy/Logan Views: 15735 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men comics, or any of the characters from it. I make no money from from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Author's Note
- 2-Ch 1
- 3-Ch 2
- 4-Ch 3
- 5-Ch 4
- 6-Ch 5
- 7-Ch 6
- 8-Ch 7
- 9-Ch 8
- 10-Ch 9
- 11-Ch 10
- 12-Ch 11
- 13-Ch 12
- 14-Ch 13
- 15-Ch 14
- 16-Ch 15
- 17-Ch 16
- 18-Ch 17
- 19-Ch 18
- 20-Ch 19
- 21-Ch 20
- 22-Ch 21
- 23-Ch 22
- 24-Ch 23
- 25-Ch 24
- 26-Ch 25
- 27-Ch 26
- 28-Ch 27
- 29-Ch 28
- 30-Ch 29
- 31-Ch 30
- 32-Ch 31
- 33-Ch 32
- 34-Ch 33
- 11
- 12
- 13
See warnings, notes, and disclaimers in first chapter
Words between / / are thoughts or mental speak

Words between * * are flashbacks

Words between ~ ~ are lyrics to any songs that may be
used in the fic
CH 11
Remy walked sluggishly toward the door leading to the Professor's
office. He was in no hurry to meet with the telepath and start his
'healing' process, whatever that meant. But, no sooner had he paused to
raise his knuckles to the door - attempting to gather his courage and shields
for the upcoming session - than the Professor called out to him from the other
side to bid him entry. It was not like Remy was surprised by that fact,
after all the man was one of the world's most powerful telepaths. He knew
his shields were formidable against most of �his� kind, but against Charles
Xavier he knew there could be a struggle.
�Ah Remy, please sit. Give me a few moments to finish this
document.� The Professor was professionalism personified, smiling warmly
at the youth.
As he waited, Remy had the opportunity to really inspect the
office, something he had not had the chance to do in his first visit. The
oak desk at which the professor sat was rich in detail. It had intricate
veneered inlays running along the edges, with a swirling fleur de lys design in the center panel at
the front, finished off with clawed feet on each leg. On the wall behind
the Professor was an original painting that the thief immediately recognized as
authentic and priceless. The painter, well known, used rich characters
and vibrant colors to create a scene of everyday life in olden days. Remy
mused at the amount of money such a piece of art would command, and how much
food and medicine that might buy the Morlocks for
many generations. He cut that train of thought, not wanting the older man
to pick up on it. There would be time later on to pinch what he needed
from this place. Of that he would make sure.
Continuing to wander, his eyes skimmed over the nearby
bookcase that extended from floor to ceiling. So full was the unit, not a
single spot remained available on any shelf. The perusal of titles
revealed quite an impressive collection of master works, along with theory
behind various topics and a multitude of genres. The man was well
read. Remy supposed he should be intimidated by that fact, but
truthfully, he could not careless. It�s not like he was a stupid man
himself, he just had not had the opportunities that the Professor obviously had
growing up. Besides, his interests ran more in the lines of espionage and
mechanics, though he would keep this collection in mind should he continue to
encounter insomnia; nothing would put him to sleep faster.
Survey of the room completed, he turned his attention to the
older man across from him, trying to recall what he read in the limited file
his current boss had provided. It was hard to tell in his wheelchair, but
the way he composed himself made Remy speculate the man was almost as tall as
he, with a heavier physique, and looking far younger than he truly was in
years. The man was a genius, a geneticist and obvious head of this
so-called school, as well as the leader of an �insane group of terrorists intent on taking over the world�; if his current
employer�s notes were believable. But, Remy wasn�t so sure. Behind
those indigo eyes that leaned more towards the blue end of the spectrum, there
was a mark of compassion, not insanity. Perhaps the thief should
re-evaluate his initial opinion of the man.
�So tell me, Remy, how do you feel about world domination?�
Then again, maybe Magneto�s files were correct. �Uh�hehn?�
The Professor smirked as he looked up from his
paperwork. �Just trying to get your attention.�
He brought his hands up into a steeple below his chin to focus completely on
the boy.
It took a moment to register, but an answering smirk slowly
appeared on the Cajun�s face. �T�ink dat may be a little ambitious for me, but I�m willing to
give it a shot.� He shrugged in nonchalance as the professor
chuckled.
The older man then grew serious. �How are you
adjusting?�
�Fine�
Xavier paused a moment to see if anything further would be
said. Seeing that the boy was not going to contribute any more, he
continued. �Is your room satisfactory?�
�Oui.�
Undaunted, he tried to engage the boy again. �The other
residents will be arriving in another couple of days. You will be able to
meet them then.�
�Hn�
Xavier arched a brow. They sat there in a silent �battle
of gazes� until Remy finally caved, lowering his eyes to the desk as the air
around them became uncomfortable. Xavier watched the boy begin to fidget
under the scrutiny, inwardly amused at the intimidation a crippled older man
could cause a healthy vibrant youth. Taking pity on Remy�s awkwardness,
Xavier brought his hands back down to grasp a pen in order to take notes.
One thing the Professor never did was follow a recipe on counselling. Each mutant that entered his office was
unique; requiring their own set of parameters and pathways in order to be
successful. There was no one tried and true method for dealing with
people with special talents. Rather, he attempted to study each pupil and
adjust his questions accordingly. But, he was having a difficult time
with this particular individual. Some signs were there, but overall the
boy�s body language was hard to interpret and all he could definitely read at
the moment was that Remy was nervous.
�There is nothing to fear, Remy. We are not here to
judge you or force you into telling us anything. It is important to us
that we earn your trust.�
Remy quit fidgeting, for the most part, and tilted his head
slightly as he challenged that statement. �What make you t�ink Remy don�t trust you? Came here on my own,
eh? Dat should mean somet�ing.�
Xavier took in the stubborn set of the jaw. �In answer
to your first question � No, I don�t think you trust us. As for the
latter, yes you did come here. However, I feel that you came to us as a
last resort. Perhaps you tried to learn control on your own before
seeking us out? But, you are correct. It does mean something that
you finally came to us. May I assume that something has happened in your
past to cause you to seek other help?�
/Logan didn�t tell him?/ It looked like the feral
had kept the conversation from the previous night private after all, and that
caused a tingling sensation somewhere in his chest. But that also meant
something else. His jaw sagged as he simply stared, mind reeling from the
insight that was a little too close to home, and he checked his shields though
he felt no breach. The Professor must have recognized something in the
boy�s expression as he quickly raised his hands in mock surrender. �I
have not read your mind. I told you before that I will never enter
someone�s mind without their permission, unless there is a dire need.�
Xavier watched as the boy turned away from him to stare at the
door to his office, as if seeking the shortest route to escape. With a
sigh, he lowered his hands, deciding to change the topic for the time
being. �Ok. Let�s talk about the mechanics of your power for a
moment. Tell me how they work.�
Remy�s brows drew together in confusion. �Already told
you once before. Can blow t�ings
up.�
�Yes, but that�s not what I meant. Can you feel the
power building up within? Can you feel it release into an object or is it
that you feel the object itself becoming excited?� Xavier paused for a
moment, considering. �Do you feel you have some control over it
initially, and if so, can you tell when it is beginning to slip from your
control?�
Remy simply stared at the man as he thought about the
questions. How exactly did his powers work? It wasn�t something he
was ever conscious about, rather it was always a part of him; natural. He
was slow in formulating an answer to give the man. �Seems
like I can feel de molecules in an object getting excited. Don�t t�ink de charge come from
me, more like de charge be in de object and I just bring it out wit� a
touch. Mas..� Remy
paused, looking inward in thought before focusing once again on Xavier. �dere be a tingling
sensation.� Almost immediately his memory of the night in the kitchen and
the card game came to mind. The spark that seemed to ignite when he
touched the feral was something he had never experienced before when touching
another living soul. He felt himself growing warm at the memory, his skin
pimpling with the ghosted feeling that had been there
that night.
�I see.� The professor scribbled some notes on his pad,
canting a look towards the boy as he finished. �And when you lose
control? Can you pinpoint why?�
Fingers raked through auburn hair, a nervous gesture clear to
the older man. Remy found a sudden interest in the carpet at his feet, a
card appearing from no where to flip back and forth between the fingers of one
hand. Xavier took in all these signs and scribbled more notes covertly in
his pad. �When�.� Remy shifted a little in his chair. �when
emotions be strong, seem like dat�s when control
slip. But not always. Seem like mostly
extreme anger or when Remy scared or in pain.� He shrugged as if he
couldn�t figure out anything else to add.
Xavier frowned at the use of third person speech. It was
something he would need to explore at a later time with the boy. He
already suspected extreme emotions were the cause, knowing that powerful
emotions usually triggered a mutant�s powers to respond in kind. �Yes, I
recall the Danger Room session when your exhaustion and pain contributed to the
overload. If I had not shut you down, the damage would have been
extensive.� A guilty look appeared on the professor�s face. �Again,
I am sorry for that. Tell me, have you ever lost control to the point of
massive destruction?�
The pain that entered the boy�s eyes was unmistakable. �Only once.� He would not contribute anything further
to that answer, but it was enough for Xavier to understand. But still, he
needed to push the boy to open up if possible.
�And did people die when this happened?�
Remy�s gaze drifted towards the window,
watching the clouds gently float by without a care in the world.
For a moment, he thought he could make out shapes in the sky of family members
faces as he remembered them on that day; his mind transporting him into the
past. His eyes began to water unexpectedly and he blinked a few times to
clear them. It still hurt even after all these years, maybe even more
because of the suffering that followed. All the punishments he endured,
however, could never make up for what he did, even if it was an accident.
It was obvious to Xavier that he wasn�t going to get a verbal
response to his question. But truthfully, he had seen enough in the boy�s
reaction to speculate that the answer was yes. �Do you want to talk about
it?�
�Non� Remy whispered.
�Remy..�
The thief turned his glittering eyes towards the older man,
unshed tears evident as he pleaded. �Please Professeur,
Remy don� wanna talk �bout dis.�
Again the third person speech pattern appeared, along with a
heavier accent. Distress was evident and the older man decided not to
pursue it further, inclining his head in acknowledgement of the plea.
Without realizing it, Remy lifted his palm to rub away the
moisture from his eye, a sniffle coming involuntarily. �Can Remy go
now? Got chores to do.�
Xavier was ready to argue with the boy, the session having
only just begun. But seeing the desperation in Remy�s face, he decided it
was enough for one day. There would be plenty of time to delve deeper in
future meetings. �Very well.�
Remy rose to leave, but paused at the door when the professor
called out for him. Without turning back to look at the older man, he
simply waited. �Remy, I don�t want to push you or cause you pain.
It is not our goal here at the school. But, there are some things that
must be faced in order for you to learn control. We want to help with
that, but you have to meet us half way. Trust is a two way street.
We are willing to give it to you, but you need to be willing to return it.�
Remy closed his eyes for a moment as those words sank
in. �D�accord.� He said before stepping into
the hall and closing the door behind him. He leaned his head back against
the door and stared up at the ceiling. Why had he not met these people
years ago before his life took a darker path? He still had a job to do,
but suddenly he wasn�t sure if he could. Everything here was a
contradiction to what he had been told and now the conflict building within him
threatened to be his undoing.
With a sigh, he pushed away from the door and decided to start
on his chores. Since his primary duties for the day included changing all
the linen in the resident�s rooms and washing the laundry, he decided to
collect his own clothes first. He didn�t have much and everything he had,
save for what he was wearing, was dirty.
><><><><><>
After collecting his possessions and the sheets from his room, he
headed for the facilities on the first floor. The laundry room possessed
only one washer/dryer unit, a fact that probably caused more than one argument
among the residents. In his mind, he could just see a line forming to use
it. Briefly he wondered how often they had to replace the overtaxed
machines. After throwing in his clothes and pouring in the detergent, he
turned the machine on and watched nothing happen. Blinking in confusion,
it took him a moment to realize why no water poured into the basket. He
turned and made his way down to the lower floor, searching for the feral.
The swearing and cursing echoed off the walls and he grinned
as he followed the sounds to the intended target. Logan sat on
the ground, wrench in hand, as he stared at several fittings on the tank.
�Need some help mon ami?�
Logan
merely sighed. �It�s the damn pipes.� But he didn�t
elaborate. Looking up at the younger mutant, he couldn�t help but
grin. �Sure Cajun. Grab a tool.�
They spent most of the afternoon working on the pipes and
fittings which ran to and from the tanks. Neither spoke much, there was
no need, they both seemed instinctively aware of each other�s role in the
repair process and they carried out their tasks seamlessly. When the last
of the work was completed, they stood back together and admired their
handiwork. The units were purring like kittens, the temperature
optimum. Logan,
extremely satisfied with their handiwork and without thinking, clasped Remy on
the shoulder and gently squeezed. �Thanks! Ya
saved me quite a bit of time by helping.�
Remy tensed momentarily at the unexpected touch, but relaxed
as the warmth of the other�s hand radiated through his body. �My pleasure. Mas, now I�m
behind on my own chores and ..� he glanced down at his
grease covered shirt and pants ��I�m filt�y with nuttin to wear.�
Logan
stepped around the front of the boy and glanced at his shirt before looking up
into ruby eyes. �Well, I think I got something you can wear til yer own stuff�s clean.
An� one good turn deserves another don�t ya
think? I�ll help ya with the rest of yer chores. Come on.� Without another word he
put all the tools back into the storage bin from where they had originally been
retrieved, then headed upstairs, expecting Remy to follow. When they made
it to Logan�s room, he rummaged through the drawers of his chest, pulling out
a button up, long sleeve flannel shirt and a pair of old worn jeans.
�Go take a shower kid. I�ll be here when ya
finished.�
After his shower, Remy headed back to Logan�s room
to find the older man changed and refreshed from having completed his own shower.
As the boy knocked and entered, Logan
turned around, he took one look at the boy and
chuckled. �Well, guess I won�t have to worry �bout ya
borrowing my stuff in the future.� The shirt was too large for the
slender youth. Despite being buttoned all the way to the top, it was
sliding temptingly down his shoulder to expose creamy skin; a sight that Logan
appreciated. The pants were baggy on the boy and rode high on his legs,
exposing the dusting of auburn hair on his lower calves, outlining the obvious
difference in height between the two males.
Remy smirked. �Yeh, I make
quite de fashion statement in dis, mon ami.� They both laughed
as he struck a silly pose, before heading out to spend the rest of the
dwindling day on Remy�s chores. The afternoon seemed to pass quickly in
the feral�s company and by the time the last bed was
stripped Remy had all but forgotten the morning�s events and the uncomfortable
meeting with the head of the school.
End ch 11
********
on
to part 12
Back to Jukebox Fics
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Origins