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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
- 27
- 28
- 29
Origins Ch 27
Reviewer Response:
Rachael - I'm so glad I made your day *big smile*. As for your question regarding the two ferals smelling each other - Logan & Sabertooth are smelling each other on Remy, but they don't know each other (or can't remember each other) and so as far as they can tell it's an unknown person's scent on Remy. =D I tried to add a little extra in this chapter to hopefully make that point stand out a little more. Thanks so much for reading and commenting!
DC McLain - *blush* thank you
Zuzanny - thank you for reading! You were wondering the same things as Rachael. I hope I made it a little clearer in this chapter *crosses fingers* They are smelling each other, but don't recognize the scents. And Logan doesn't smell Magneto because Magneto barely touches Remy (and when he does, he's wearing gloves).

See primary notes, disclaimers, and warnings in first chapter.
Notes #2:I'm pretty
sure I've mentioned this before perhaps in another of my fics, but the idea of
Remy being allergic to aspirin such that it acts like a tranquilizer is not
mine. I've read it in severalX-men fics in the past, so I'm unsure
whoinvented the idea. I'm also unsure if it's cannon or fannon
(though I tend to think it's fannon). If anyone knows the original author
who penned the idea first, please let me know so I might credit that
person. Also, the views/opinions expressed by Remy regarding
sheltersstrictly belong to the characterwithin the realms of this
story, and do not necessarily reflecton community centers/shelters in
real life. Thanks goes to BJ for reading over this chapterfor
meto let me know ifit felt right within the confines of the story.
Ch 27
Magneto stood outside the closed
door for a moment, staring at the metal plating.� On the other side, he knew
what he would find and, for a moment, was conflicted.� Sometimes he felt there
were two polar opposite personalities within him that constantly warred with
each other.� It was almost laughable to think he might be schizophrenic, but it
was truly one of the best ways to explain it.� There was a time, a distance
memory perhaps, when he was a completely different person in both thought and
action.� In his youth, he would never have imagined that his life would turn
out the way it had.� But, wars and prejudice had changed him.� He could no
longer afford to be the na�ve fool of his misspent youth.� He wondered, though,
when he became the type of person he generally loathed; the type that would use
and abuse one of his own to obtain a sought after goal?� One part of his mind
said it was wrong to hurt another of his ilk to achieve his objectives.� Yet,
the dark side of his psyche railed against the moral complex being presented,
demanding that the needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few, and that
it was necessary to step on a few toes if the end result benefited the
majority.� It was all about choices � who would succeed, and who would pay the
price for that success.� But the irony of it all almost made him cackle with
maniacal laughter.� In order to free his people from the mundanes who would
play judge, jury and executioner, he himself had become those very things.
When had he changed so much?
He shook his head to clear his
mind.� It was too late to have second thoughts on the matter.� What was done
was done.� He had made a deal with the madman that owned the boy he had just
allowed Creed to punish.� The time to seek redemption and forgiveness, to face
the consequence of choices, would eventually come.� Ruthlessly, he shoved his
moral complex to the furthest corners of his mind and let his darker side come
forth.�
As he pushed the door open and
stood at the threshold, Erik drank in the sight of the defeated figure across
the room.� Remy sat back on his knees, the metal covered hands resting between
his legs and his head bowed low such that locks of auburn colored hair hid his
face from view.� The remnants of his pants started mid thigh and snaked around
his legs in strips to end at exposed ankles.� Scratch marked hips and buttocks
were completely exposed, but his modesty was preserved behind his arms.� The
shirt the Cajun had worn was nothing but tattered cloth clinging over one
shoulder by a thin thread and ripped along the other side to reveal a well
sculpted, albeit battered and scored, chest and back.� The sleeves of the shirt
were now nothing more than arm warmers that pooled around his wrist and
forearms.� Erik had to suppress the moan that arose unbidden at the erotic
sight of that beautiful body claimed and marked.� The creature before him was
one of the very few that had ever stirred his blood to near frenzy with
desire.�
Magneto moved to stand over the Cajun, breathing in the
intoxicating smell of sex and blood with a smirk on his face.� �You look
thoroughly debauched, my boy.�
Remy said nothing, not even raising his head to look at the
man, and Magneto frowned.� He wasn�t sure what he had expected from the boy,
but lack of acknowledgement to his presence was not it.� It angered Erik to
feel dismissed by the young man at his feet.� Crouching so that he could be at
eye level should the Cajun raise his head, Magneto reached out one gloved hand
and grabbed the hair at the back of Remy�s head to force him to look up into
the steel blue orbs of the master of magnetism.� �Understand this, if you fail
me again, Creed won�t be the only one to partake of your flesh.� And your
master is quite displeased with you.� As his servant, your actions reflect
directly on him.� He has assured me that I may do with you as I will short of
killing you if something like this happens again.��
There was almost a perverse satisfaction at seeing the flare
of anger in those crystal ruby eyes.� The urge to lean forward just another
inch and capture the kiss bruised lips of the boy was overwhelming and Magneto
recognized that some of his feelings were being manipulated by the unrestrained
talents of the exhausted and hurting Cajun.� One deep breath, then another, until
he was again in control, then Erik released the hold on Remy�s hair and moved
his gaze to the metal block imprisoning the younger mutant�s hands.� The
fingers of both hands spread over the metal, his concentration heavy as he
forced the two pieces to separate once again and free the trapped boy.� When
the metal pieces finally detached with an audible clink, flying apart as if
being repelled by one another, Remy gasped and groaned in pain at the pinprick
sensations of returning circulation to the previously numb digits.� Remy�s
fingers were frozen in a clawed position.� The pain and effort to straighten
his fingers showed on his face.� He quickly raised both arms to his chest,
bending at the waist to cradle his hands in a fetal-like position as he worked
through the agony.
Magneto�s eyes softened, chagrined for a moment at the
damage his impromptu imprisonment idea had caused to the boy�s hands no matter
how temporary.� Almost he reached to grasp and massage them to encourage the
blood flow to return less painfully.� But that moment was fleeting as he
reminded himself just why the young mutant had been punished.� Standing
rapidly, Magneto sneered down at the Cajun for a moment before turning to head
to his desk.� �You will return to the mansion, now, and complete your mission
as quickly as possible.� I grow tired of the delays.��
A drawer was opened in the bottom right side of the desk and
Erik pulled a bundle from inside.� �Put on these clothes.� Do not bother to
wash beforehand.� You will need them to believe your story to explain your late
night.� The best way to come across as a whore is to look and smell like one.��
He threw the loose bundle, hitting the Cajun in the head such that Remy
flinched at the contact.� As he made his way to the door, he paused when he
finally heard the boy speak.
�Ain�t a who�e�� Remy whispered, his forehead still resting
on his knee as he continued to cradle his hands to his chest.
Magneto regarded the young mutant for a moment.� �What you
choose to believe is of no consequence.� It is only important what they
believe.� And a lie is most convincingly hidden between two truths.�� Then, he
was gone.
After a while, the feeling was
fully returned to Remy�s hands and fingers; the pain simply another dull ache
among many.� He stood slowly, categorizing all the wounds on his body as he
manipulated unsteady legs into the oversized pants that Magneto had given him.�
Looking down at the outfit he�d been given, he wrinkled his nose at the ill
fitting garments.� �Not my style� seriously.�� But there was little he could
do, having nothing else to wear.�
The late night ride back to the
mansion was torturous.� The bumping vibrations of the motorcycle sent slivers
of pain through his tormented body, reminding him continuously of the activities
of the last few hours.� Several times, Remy wanted to pull over to the side of
the road to rest.� It was only the realization that once he stopped he wouldn�t
be able to continue that kept him from succumbing to that desire.� As he
reached the long driveway leading to the mansion, he pondered what he might
tell anyone that asked his whereabouts.� He had been gone since the previous
afternoon he had spent with Logan.� If he was lucky, Remy mused, nobody missed
him.� As much as it galled him,� however, he thought that Magneto was probably
correct, and that he should let them assume what they wanted simply by his
appearance.�
After parking the bike in the
garage at the side of the main house, Remy decided to make his way around to
the front door.� Going through the kitchen would attract more attention than he
wanted if anyone was on a midnight pantry raid or if the Professor was in his
office which shared a wall with one side of that room.� The last thing he
expected as he walked through the front door at such a late hour was to see
several team members in the den just to the side of the entrance hall.� It was
rare for them to be up at this hour and gathered in such a way.� The room
contained the winged mutant that had such animosity for him, as well as his
British partner, Bobby and Logan.� At first his thoughts were to avoid the room
and try to ghost by it towards the stairs.� But, Remy was moving too slow and
awkward for that.� In the end, his choice was taken from him when he saw that Logan and Worthington both noticed him.� The looks on their faces were a study in
contrast:� one welcoming and worried, the other full of contempt and disdain.�
Logan moved from where he had been standing in the corner to
come closer to the boy as Remy maneuvered his reluctant body to the threshold
of the room.� It was only a moment before all the members present turned to
look at him, varying emotions coming from all and making his stomach churn.�
Remy knew what he looked like, and from the reflections mirrored on their faces
and in their projected feelings, knew what they were thinking about him at this
moment.��
Though Logan�s mouth was working,
as if he wanted to say something or ask a question, it was Bobby that spoke
first.� �Hey, Remy!� Where�ve you been?� Logan�s been worried sick about you.��
Bobby ignored the glare the feral sent his way, his baby blue eyes widening
slightly as he took in the disheveled state of his team mate.� �Are you
alright?� You look�� he trailed off.
Before Remy could answer, Warren rose from his chair and approached the boy with barely concealed anger.� �Now
I recognize you.� You�re a whore.� You used to sell your body to anyone that
was willing in the French Quarter.� Warren sneered.
Remy stared at him blankly, giving nothing away while inside
his gut twisted.� �You don� know nuttin� �bout me.� What make you t�ink dat I
was a who�e?�
�BECAUSE YOU FUCKED MY FATHER!� Warren screamed, his face
red with rage.� Remy blanched at the accusation, the denial on the tip of his
tongue before Warren continued.� �You don�t remember do you?� We were both
kids.� My dad brought me with him on his business trip to New Orleans.� He
picked you up and brought you back to the hotel.� He introduced you to me as a
special friend, telling me your name was Diable.� It was only later I
understood that word meant devil.� Warren spat, as if repeating the much hated
name was vile to him.� �He told us to play together, then we all ate together.�
We watched the television and played one of my board games.� And later that
evening, the nanny came to take me to bed.� Only you didn�t go with me.� It
wasn�t a slumber party for me.� You stayed with him.� I saw him put his arm
around your shoulders like you were some kind of possession.� And I HATED you
in that moment, because you had all his attention, while he was sending me
away.�� Warren stepped forward into Remy�s personal space.� �But I wasn�t the
na�ve little boy he thought I was.� I knew what he wanted to do with you, what
the two of you did after I left.�� There was a sneer on the face as he brought
it to within centimeters of Remy�s.� Almost, their noses touched.�
�You�You really did that Remy?� It was a soft question only
heard because of the stillness in the room.� Bobby looked up at the Cajun from
where he sat, his eyes wide and shining.�
Without turning to look at him, never breaking the staring
contest he was holding with the winged warrior, Remy answered.� �Boy gotta eat
some kinda way Bobby.�
The ice man�s brows furrowed.� �But-But they have shelters
for that kind of thing.� Why didn�t you go to one of the shelters?� You didn�t
have to do that when there are places you could have gone.�
Remy snorted.� �Remy be safer wit� de one night stands.� In
de shelter, ain�t so easy to escape when dey come to take you.�
�Take?� But, that�s not right.� The shelters are safe places
for homeless.� You would have been�.�
Remy finally broke eye contact and pierced Bobby�s baby
blues, interrupting the boy�s utopia speech.� �Must be nice to live in your
world, homme.� Tell me, do pink fluffy bunnies live dere, too?�
�Don�t take this out on him, you piece of trash!�� Warren shoved a finger hard into Remy�s chest, causing the Cajun to involuntarily step back
to regain his balance.�
�Warren, that�s enough.� Betsy spoke up, concerned at the
tension radiating off both men.� The den was no place for an all out brawl
between two powerful mutants.�
The winged mutant turned to his girlfriend.� �He IS trash.�
He sucks and fucks his way through life.�
Remy bristled.� �At least who�ing be a honest way to earn
it, homme.� You know what you gettin� for de money.� Can�t say de same for dem
dat run big mega-corporations.� We all who�es one way or de ot�er, whet�er we
selling our bodies for food, or our souls for money.�
Warren rounded on him.� �How dare you compare me to you,
punk.��
Logan had been standing to the side, letting this play out
until he saw Warren take a step towards Remy with clenched fists.� He deftly
moved between them and pushed the winged mutant back.� �Shut the fuck up,
fly-boy.� You wipe yer ass the same as him or me.�� Logan paused and took a
deep sniff melodramatically in the direction of the winged mutant, then
crinkled his nose with a little snort of disgust.� �Unless ya got some kink ya
ain�t told us about.�� He let the implication sink in.
Worthington fumed.� Remy watched him with a sort of detached
vision, seeing the man turn almost purple with anger.� He nearly laughed out
loud as he imagined the man as a cartoon character, complete with steam coming
out of his ears.� And suddenly, it dawned on him that the golden boy wasn�t so
golden.�
Remy turned and began to leave the room.� Warren noticed and
angrily called after him.� �Hey!� Come back here.� This conversation isn�t
over.�
The Cajun kept walking, briefly turning his head to throw
back a reply over his shoulder.� �It sho� �nuff is.� Remy goin� ta bed.�
Logan waited the span of a heartbeat before he too turned to
follow the boy.� Betsy clasped Logan�s arm to stop him from leaving. �Got to be
careful of pretty packages, luv.� They�re usually full of trouble.��
Logan looked down at the perfectly manicured hand, then
slowly raised his head.� His eyes flickered to the golden Adonis with a rigid
white-winged back standing a few feet behind her before turning his gaze back
to her.� �Could say the same thing to you, darlin�.�� And with that, he shook
off her hold and left the room.
He watched as the Cajun carefully climbed the stairs, moving
like an arthritic old man.� He said nothing until they reached their floor,
stopping when the boy stopped.� �Wha� you want, Logan.� Why you following?�
�Wanted to see if ya need any help.� He answered, his voice
carefully neutral.
Blue eyes watched as the shoulders of the young man in front
of him straightened defensively.� Almost, a visible wall could be seen building
around the boy.� Remy turned to look at the older man, a seductive smile in
place.� If Magneto wanted him to play the whore, then that�s exactly what he
would do.� He was too tired to fight anymore, and it seemed it was all he was
capable of doing.� �Or maybe, you wanna taste of Remy?� Hmm?�� Slowly, his hand
ran across the fabric of his shirt, along the contours of his chest, licking
his lips in wanton invitation.� It was detached, hollow, and it infuriated the
feral that the boy would act that way towards him.
Logan backed him fiercely against the wall, and in one swift
motion plunged his hand into loose pants, grabbing the boy at the root with a
hard squeeze.� Remy cried out, pain tears stinging the corners of his eyes.�
�Ya trying to tell me that this is all yer about?�
�Remy be made only for sex.�� His hands weakly grasped Logan�s forearm and elbow, desperate for the older mutant to release his vice-like grip.
Logan squeezed harder.� �Who�s made for sex?�
�R-Rem�aaah�� Remy screamed as Logan gave two harsh tugs.
�I�I was.�
�
�Bullshit.�� Logan relaxed his hold slightly, easing off
some of the pressure but not releasing.� �Who fed ya that line of crap?�� At
the lack of response from the younger man, Logan snorted in frustration and
withdrew his hand from the boy�s pants.
Remy slid down the wall, staring at a spot on the ceiling
above Logan�s head, unable to look into those hardened eyes as tears slowly ran
from his own.� Logan crouched in front of him, wrists dangling off knees as he
studied the boy and catalogued the smell of an unknown person�s presence on
Remy�s body.� �Don�t lie to me Cajun.� I can see right through ya.�� At the
tensing of Remy�s body and a twitch in his jaw, Logan clarified.� �I ain�t no
damn telepath if that�s what yer thinking.� Yer not so difficult to read ya
know.� It�s obvious to anyone willing to see it that yer dealing with some
unpleasant shit that�s got ya all twisted up inside.� Seems to me ya got two
choices.� Continue down this self-destructive path yer on, or take the fork in
the road that we�re offering ya.�� Logan�s eyes softened and he gently ran the
back of one finger down Remy�s cheek until ruby eyes lowered to look at him.�
�I, for one, know which path I hope ya choose.� He said softly.� Remy could
only stare in wonder at the man, seeing more in those piercing blue eyes than
was said in words.�
Logan let his finger linger another moment before standing
up.� �Now go take a shower.� From what I smell, yer in pain.��
Remy gusted a humorless laugh.� �Dieu, you can smell pain?�
he asked incredulously.
Logan sighed inwardly.� Hadn�t they already discussed this
once before?� �Can�t smell pain, kid.� But I can smell blood.� I won�t ask.� I
figger yer a big boy.� And since yer walking and talking�� he shrugged,
attempting to feign unconcern as he let the verbal thought trail off, reaching
a hand down to help the Cajun rise.� Remy wasn�t fooled.
He accepted the aid and stood as gracefully as possible, his
hand lingering in the feral�s as he stared into those ocean colored orbs.�
�T�anks� he said quietly, squeezing the older man�s hand before releasing it to
move towards his room.� It didn�t take him long to gather a change of clothes
before heading to the shower.� Logan seemed to have disappeared somewhere, and
Remy wavered between relief and disappointment.� As he entered the shower, he
couldn�t look at the mirror to his right.� The over-sized, well-worn clothes
that Magneto had given him were quickly removed and Remy stepped toward the
stall.
He stood under the spray and let the water wash it all
away.� At that moment, he could care less if he used all of the hot water in
the tanks that Logan had so affectionately named.� Big Bertha and Oz could blow
gaskets as far as he was concerned.� The only thing that mattered was the burn
on his skin, the peeling away of the outermost layers to remove the filth that
clung to him.� If he thought it wouldn�t draw even more attention and
uncomfortable questions from the others, he would have scrubbed himself raw.�
As it was though, he had to be content with the reddening that the slightly
scalding temperatures would produce, knowing it would most likely fade through
the night.
Remy wasn�t sure how much time passed, but as the water
slowly cooled, he finally reached to shut off the valves, smirking at the fact
that anyone else taking a shower in the near future would only enjoy lukewarm
water at best.� Stepping from the stall, he quickly dried himself with a towel
and then stared at himself in the mirror, a study of disgust and despair on his
face.� Creed had done a thorough job.� Bruises in the shape of handprints were
darkening under the heat agitated skin.� Claw marks of varying depths ran in
places on his hips and thighs, some slowly oozing anew having been reopened
under the assault of the shower.� A surge of anger rose from deep within and
Remy balled his fist, pulling his arm back and throwing it full force towards
the glass.� It was sheer willpower that stayed his punch at the last moment,
his fisted hand trembling at the effort.� Fingers slowly unclenched and
gingerly touched the mirror.� What good would it do to shatter his image?�
A heavy sigh escaped his throat as he tore his gaze away
from the creature staring back at him.� He could keep this hidden from the
others.� It wouldn�t take too long to heal.� And as long as Logan didn�t expect
anything from him��.that thought brought a whole new level of pain.� Logan deserved better, though the older man would be the first to admit he himself was no
saint.� Remy sighed again and pulled on a long sleeve jersey and the flannel
pajama pants that Bobby loaned him once before.� The ice mutant was a good bit
shorter than Remy, and the Cajun couldn�t help but chuckle as he glanced down at
his naked ankles and feet.� At least the skin there was unmarked.� Dieu he was
tired.
He stepped from the bathroom and made his way down the hall,
eyes focused on the floor directly in front of his step as his thoughts
whirled.� It was only as he neared his room that he looked up and saw the feral
casually leaning against his doorframe with crossed arms.� Remy�s step faltered
for a moment before he pulled up his mask and closed the distance.� �Gonna tuck
me in, cher?� he asked nonchalantly.
The edges of Logan�s lips turned up as he pushed away from
the wall.� �Maybe�.here.�� He held out a hand, palm side up, to expose two
white rounded pills.
Remy frowned when he recognized what they were.� �Tol� ya,
homme.� Allergic to aspirin.�
�I know what ya said and I think ya need to sleep.� Take
�em.�� He thrust the pills forward into Remy�s personal space.
The Cajun floundered, unsure of what to say, and finally
settled on the truth.� �Logan, cher, can�t keep my shields up if I take dem.�
De telepat�s��
�Won�t do nothin�.�� Logan interrupted.� �I�m gonna sit with
ya and be yer shield.� Even Betsy won�t try it while I�m in here.�
Remy could only stare at him, overwhelmed by what the older
man was offering.� The conflict was clearly written all over Remy�s face, but Logan waited patiently.� The Cajun knew the man wasn�t going to take no for an answer.�
�D�accord.� He finally decided and popped the pills into his mouth, swallowing
them dry and making a face at the sour taste.� He slipped under the covers
quietly, unable to relax fully, all too aware of the older man�s presence.� At
some point, Logan had pulled another, more comfortable chair into Remy�s room �
one that could easily accommodate his mass � and sat back with a book in hand.�
The fact that he wasn�t questioning made Remy apprehensive, feelings of guilt
surfacing.� He truly couldn�t afford to feel such things as the aspirin began
to take effect.� So, he decided to purge himself.� �I made a mistake, Logan, and paid de price.�
Logan glanced up from the page he was reading.� �Ya wanna
talk �bout it, Cajun?�
�Non� he whispered, irritated at himself for the moisture he
could feel gathering at the corners of his eyes.�
Logan didn�t push for details and politely ignored the
sudden smell of salty water coming from the direction of the boy�s exotic
eyes.� Instead he asked �Are ya gonna be okay Remy or do I gotta break my foot
off in someone�s ass?�
That made the Cajun chuckle, his imagination running wild
with visions of his feral literally shoving his massive foot up Creed�s ass,
showing the bastard exactly what it felt like to have something big and
unforgiving tearing him up inside.� It was a satisfying vision as far as Remy
was concerned.� �Ain�t necessary, Logan.� Re�.I�ll be fine.�
End ch 27
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Origins