Wanted: Captain Remy LeBeau

As Logan had gotten inside the door, and shut it, Remy had become more of a limp attachment to him. His movements had been slightly drunken and his talk was becoming something to decipher. Using his body weight, he steered Logan towards the big, round table between the door and the bed. Shifting, he nearly caused Logan to topple onto the edge of the table, with him, as he was placed there. Eyelids heavy with fever, he blindly kissed the older man and wrapped his arms about the brawny shoulders. His legs were dropped as Logan took a moment to rest and glance over the Acadian. "Don'- don' leave me, cher. Stay." He whispered as the kiss ended.

Logan smiled and reached up to unlock Remy's fingers behind his neck and explain. "Tristan and Storm are comin right back, kiddo. You won't be alone."

Remy groaned, uncomfortably.

"Come on, let me getcha into bed." He started to move to pick Remy up, again, and carry him but was stopped again by the boy.

Remy swayed and watched Logan, drowsily. "Dis time, wan' my blanket."

Logan nodded and scooped Remy back into his arms. "Okay." He walked around the table and sat Remy on the edge, who promptly fell over to lie down on the bed, and turned to retrieve the blanket from the end of the bed. Covering the boy up, he had made sure Remy was comfortable and on his back before tucking him in. "Better?"

Remy nodded. "Merci, cher." His tone had been quite soft and almost non-existant. His eyes swam as he stared at Logan who now loomed over him. "De girl leave?" He cleared his throat and asked in a condescending tone.

Nodding and shushing Remy into a rest, Logan sighed and moved a damp lock of hair off of the warm forehead. "God kid, yer burnin up." He had thought the alcohol had worked but, it had only been for a short time. Biting the left corner of his mouth, he mused and watched as Remy had gotten a bit too warm under the blanket and pushed it down to his legs. To help him cool off, Logan slipped the shirt up to uncover the thin stomach and chest. Remembering what the girl said, he ran his left hand lightly over the boy's chest, feeling his erratic heartbeat before gently tracing each rib of the small ribcage. He kept his eyes on Remy's expressions, eventhough he was asleep he was displaying an array of smiles, cringes and groans. His brow furrowed as he pulled back to watch Remy flinch an arm toward his stomach.

"Hmm." Carefully removing Remy's left hand from the way, Logan flattened his own left hand and rest it in the middle of Remy's belly that was now covered in sweat. What he felt had been something he hadn't quite expected. An indescribable squirming moved and bumped under his hand. His eyes opened wide and pressing his hand slightly down, he felt the squirms take shape. "More than one." He mused.

Remy cringed and groaned again and reached up to grab hold of Logan's sleeve. His breath came in gasps of agony. Squeezing the material as another squirm had tangled itself with another and pulled tightly only to have both movements pull and thump against opposite sides of the stomach walls. He panted as his expression twisted into such pain while his right hand slid over the back of Logan's hand as it rest on his stomach. He pressed as the squirming continued in his belly.

The concern on Logan's face had become apparent to the sleeping man.

Tristan had opened the door and stepped into the room. "How is he?" Asking immediately and turning to see Storm enter behind him. Turning back and inching closer, Tristan's eyes focused on the sweat-ridden boy that now lie motionless on the bed. Coming to a stop behind Logan, he took a moment to notice the two hands on the thin and pale flesh. "What do you feel?" The words trailed out before he could halt them.

Shaking his head rather slowly and looking up to the older man, Logan answered. "I think I know why his fever's back."

"Why?" An elegant and firm female voice broke in.

Logan slid his hand out from under Remy's and motioned for Tristan to place his hand on the slippery and cool stomach. Gently removing the hands from both his sleeve and Remy's stomach, he held them as if they were glass.

Tristan eyed Logan cautiously. Mustering up enough courage to untuck his left hand that had been dangling from his belt by his thumb, he cautiously moved his hand to rest on Remy's chest. Letting Logan release the trembling left hand and place Tristan's hand on his stomach, he twitched away as beneath his hand he felt something move. "The girl was right." The whisper gasped from him in a shocked tone.

A knock at the door broke the silence in the room. "Come." Tristan shouted.

"Mister Loomis, sir, there's a terrible storm comin off de starboard bow. Comin in fast. What's to do?" Will had interrupted them by opening the door and glancing at Remy, on the bed, before fixing on Tristan for an answer. He looked weathered, as if he had just come in from the storm about to hit. He also had worried about the young captain yet, hadn't managed to voice any concern whatsoever.

Tristan looked at Logan, Logan glanced at him before looking to Storm, and all three finally looked to Remy. Turning to face Will, Tristan's expression went grim. "We'll have to duck behind the blood cliffs in hopes of minimizing the force of it." He stopped and turned back to Storm. "You'd better go find the girl. I doubt she'd make it to shore before it hits. Alive, that is."

"I could stop it." She offered.

Shaking his head, Tristan measured the outcome. "To stop it now, would only mean it would come again ten times harder, tomorrow. No, we'll wait it out. The captain needs his rest, and we need that girl. There's something about the way she said goodbye."

"She didn't." Storm mused.

Tristan gave them the orders, and then followed Will out to help pull in the sails, after steering safely into the cave just a half mile out of reach from them. He shouted orders to anyone with nothing to do, and occasionally threw a man or two into their duty. His mouth, hands, arms and legs worked with what they were doing but, his mind was focused solely on Remy.

*******************************

The waves rose higher and higher around the small wooden boat. She had been carried up ontop of one and quickly set back down before another came to repeat the motion. Her stomach churned inside. A moan softly rumbled past her lips as a hand rest against her breast, as if to stop the sickness from rising. The waves continued. As the tiny boat was raised again, she couldn't stop herself from leaning over the side and vomitting what was in her stomach.

Material fluttered in the wind, beside her, causing her to sit back up in a start and stare at the darkened figure. "Now what? Come to see if Ah survive this miserable boat ride to shore?" Snapping the words out and leaning back, away from the woman who was reaching for her. "Let go a' me!"

"Hush child!" A snap back to the girl as Storm stood calmly before her, in the rocking boat. "I have been sent to fetch you back to the Gambler's Spice. Give me your hand." Her right hand outstretched, and a stare was calmly planted on the girl's nervous composure. She had felt the wind pick up and seduced the idea of dropping the girl into the waters, on the way back.

Turned away from the taller woman and staring up through emerald eyes, she seriously considered jumping overboard to escape both the woman and the rocking boat. The drawback she hadn't considered was that she had no idea of how to swim. "And as soon as Ah set foot on that floatin, leaky bucket that brat'll toss me off after fillin me so full a' holes on a rusty, old butter knife!" The girl crossed her arms and looked away in anger. She had gathered in the woman's eyes she was requested back for help but, diluted the plea in the wind and rain. The boy was so very handsome and casual while the other two rattled her heartbeat to shivers of petrification. Courage was sought to take the woman's hand and leave the pitiful collapsable she was sitting in.

Storm hardened even more. "You told us you wished to help him. Here's your chance, child. Do you wish to, or not?" Her eyes flashed with the lightning in the sky, as the waves rose higher and higher. "Give me your hand and prove to yourself you are not just a delicate brat for your father to push about." Raising her voice firmly to shout over the crashing and banging of thunder and waves, her patience thinned.

Glaring at the woman but dismissing the statement altogether, the girl stood up and slapped her hand into the woman's. "Fine! Ah'd rather be there than to have yer stupid comments." Finishing her statement and jumping with a start as they were lifted out of the boat, she accounted the woman's ability and was relieved her secrets were not as obscure as she thought.

The flight was long and cold. They flew low and managed to land on deck as the ship sailed between two razor sharp cliffs and into a crevice that was wide enough to comfortably fit the ship between banks but narrowed at the top. The crew had disappeared from the deck, leaving only Logan to stand at Remy's door and wait for them.

Rain drizzled through the ceiling and silently dropped into small, shallow puddles on deck. Crackles of light flashed from above as the broken lines of lightning glistened through the crack in the cliff.

"Bout time. Startin ta think you took off on us." Puffing on his cigar, Logan leaned against the frame of the door with his left shoulder and watched the two carefully. The door behind him had been shut but, the glow from the lamp brightened the small section of the deck for them to see him. "He's awake."

The girl stiffened and didn't move. As her eyes widened, her breaths came in small pants. "Ah don't think Ah wanna do this anymore. Take me back to the boat, or let me drown!" Whistling of the wind had picked up and the small breeze filtered in, causing her brown locks to twitch and dance on her shoulders. When no one moved or seemed to hear, she screamed. "Now!"

"No." Logan stepped closer to them and removed the cigar from his mouth. "Listen little girl, six hours ago you begged to stay aboard and help. We're askin an' you just wanna go home an' let that boy die from somethin yer 'daddy' did to him?! Ain't gonna happen kid. Yer goin if I have ta carry you in there." The look in his eyes told her no contest though they also displayed a hidden form of begging behind the fear and commitment.

Her breathing became normal as she stared at him. Lightning flashed behind her, making her jump and force her decision to hurry. "Alright." Huffing and brushing past him towards the room, she began to mumble to herself that perhaps she'd be made to walk the plank, afterwards.

*********************

The young and frail boy of ten stood at the end of his mother's bed, the bedroom of a large plantation house surrounded him. A wide feather bed, with only a carved oak headboard that had formed a long and drawn out oval shape. Tall, thin columns at all four corners held heavy royal purple curtains that had been tied back to let in the fading sunlight. He stood there as straight and silent as he could, as he had been told to keep the noise to a minimum for not to disturb the ill woman. Watching his father, Tristan and their doctor hover over the lady, he wondered when his chance at embracing her would be. A tall oil painting hung above her head, on the wall. A picture of his mother and father in their wedding dress. Remy had mainly stared at that before seeing the inadvertant heartbreak that had claimed his mother's expression.

Lady Alyzabith du Francessco of America lie in the bed. Her once full and curly auburn locks lay in a limp frame about her pale face. A young and frail thing had once been so full of life, that now trembled at the slightest motion to sit up to eat the stew her husband carefully fed her. She would not make it through the night, thanks due to a complication of an illness she had claimed in Singapore a month prior. With every chance she had, she would raise her fragile limbs and wave the boy to sit next to her. The boy would oblige with a happy smile. Only a few short moments in each other's arms before Tristan would pull them apart and shoo Remy out of the way of his mother's rest.

Not once did the boy shed a tear, nor whimper. His flame on obsidian eyes held a calmness to them as he stared in admiration of a bleak painting on a soul canvas. Remy had kept his thoughts and words to himself, though he had wanted to spill his voice out to his mother of how much he would miss her. As her breaths came more faintly, the words in his throat were swallowed back down, again.

The hour became later and later, and his mother became weaker and weaker. Jean-Luc and Tristan had retired to either a most uncomfortable chair beside the bed, or a small sofa at the end of the bed. However, Remy remained at the same spot as he stared in calmness at her.

Waving him closer and closer, she waited and helped him as he climbed up onto the bed, to her left. Letting the boy nestle down beside her, she encompassed him in her arms. Kissing his forehead and speaking in soft French undertones, she whispered for him not to be afraid.

"Woul' ya write me, when ya git to Heaven, mama?" Remy childishly questioned as his head rest on her shoulder. Listening to the faintness of her heart and the horrid wheezing of her breath through her lungs, he fought the urge to hold her tightly and refuse the Angel of Death her soul. Knowing he should have awakened his father and Tristan, Remy couldn't resist a brief moment alone with his mother.

She smiled faintly and squeezed his hand that rest on her stomach. "Every minute I'm away from you, my darling Remy." Turning her head away to cough quietly, she felt him raise his head and stare at her as if he were nothing more than a helpless puppy. Subsiding, her voice became weaker and strained through shivers. "Rise your father, Remy. Then come back to hold me close. I never want to forget my greatest blessing my husband has given me."

Hurriedly, he sat up and removed himself from the bed before running around to the other side, only stopping to pull Tristan's arm and then continue to the other side of the bed where Jean-Luc sat in a curled ball in a dining chair. "Poppa! Poppa! Mama call you!" Remy shook the man's arm in a frantic tug before hurrying back to his spot on the woman's side.

Jean-Luc opened his eyes and nearly fell out of the position as he stood and stretched. Climbing onto the bed, as the woman lay in the middle, his eyes hadn't left the woman's tender face. "Tristan, go fetch de doctor. Remy, get de medicine." Glancing at both as his whispers gave them orders. Retrieving her hazel eyes, and being petted on the cheek, he was silenced and the boys were told to stay.

"Shh. No. Not enough time, Jean-Luc." A faint blink as she looked from her husband to the First Mate. "Tristan, will you take care of them? Make sure my Jean-Luc and Remy stay out of trouble? Remy is a good boy, and needs schoolin'. The seas are too rough for him, just yet."

Tristan stood behind Remy and nodded. "It will be done, my lady. I promise you this."

"No, mama. I won' go. Don' want school, jus' you." Remy began to protest but hushed as her frail fingers brushed against his lips. Still no tears had fallen, not even when a slight smile graced her lips for him.

Another blink as she explained. "Petit, you have a strong life ahead of you. There's going to be times when you need just that to get by. My time with you is ending but, I want to be able to look down at you and see the handsome, smart man your soul tells me you wil be. And when we meet again, you can tell me all that you have seen and learned in your life." Her eyes moved slowly from Remy to her husband, and another smile graced her lips. "Remind the boy that I love him. And, remind yourself as well. I love you, all."

Jean-Luc let his tears fall as he nodded and spoke. "Good-bye, mon chere."

Alyzabith shook her head and whispered to him. "Not goodbye." Looking back to Remy and Tristan, she squeezed his hand. "Not goodbye, only goodnight. I will see you in the mornings of all the tomorrows you have, and I will be there by your side as you say your prayers at night." Stopping to wink and smile at Remy, she breathed in, raggedly. "I promise I will write you every second we're apart, my darlings." A final yawn and peacefull smile as she closed her eyes and stilled her breaths.

A flinch.

Laughing, tumbling, and a clashing of swords as two men in royal guards dress rolled down a grassy noll, behind the palace of a very angry French prince. Tumbling down as if inside a barrel only to crash to a stop at the bottom and find themselves surrounded by ten armed guards and the Duke, himself. Standing and looking at each other with a wry smirk, they surrendered instead of run and were immediately thrown into the dungeons.

Their clothing had been those of the guards whom they impersonated, and their shoes had disappeared somewhere in the tumble. Minor scratches and bruises aside, they had come out okay. Guard uniforms were replaced with dirty wool tunics and pants. Food rations were thrown at them and water was spilled from the bowl as guards kicked it over upon filling it.

Flinch.

Remy atop of many faceless prisoners, and some by twos and threes while the Duke watched from the outside of the cells. The Captain's face twisted in pain of torture and amusement only to the delight of the smiling Duke, who watched with a lustful eye. He'd plead for food and water as his voice had become out of breath and stomach rattled with hunger.

Carlington merely laughed and pushed another prisoner towards him. The laughs echoed through the room as Logan stood in his own cell and growled amongst pacing. A naked and sweating, writhing Remy was beginning to excite the Duke and soon he was ordering enough while having guards drag the nearly exhausted Captain up the stairs and into his lavish quarters.

Remy was cleaned and fed before he was subjected to repeated pawings and licks and finally endless thirst of sex and games. His eyes not once lifting from the floor or his work, though it was not needed to know that the Duke had loved every minute of play.

When he was returned and shoved into the cell, he could barely walk or move without help. Exhaustion, tears, sweat, blood flowing from places scattered amongst his body, allowed him to collapse into Logan's outstretched arms and sleep for two days in a sprawled position. No movement from him at all other than his steady breathing and barely audible whimpers of pain and embarrassment.

Flinch and squirm.

Bent over a chopping block and tied at the wrists and ankles, to the legs of the Duke's now empty dungeon, a naked Remy awaited what was to come next. Kneeling before the boy and rubbing his cheek as Carlington explained what was to happen, Remy shuttered unnoticeably. His body was being invaded by small, green garden snakes that were inserted one after another into his tight entrance and slithered up into his bowels and rectum, creating havok and pain on their journey. A sharp inhale of breath and a nausea unsubsiding as he was removed from the block and left alone by the guards, who were instructed to leave him alone with the Duke. He stood and grasped an inch worth of loose skin about his cold and clammy stomach.

Questions upon more questions were being asked of him. Caresses and slaps could be felt from everywhere on his body but, he remained silent and unmoving. When the Duke had had enough of the silence, he shoved Remy back into his cell and left, leaving Remy to pace in a wave of dizziness. Making it to a corner of the damp and rotting room, he vomitted over and over again.

His body tingled and twitched as his stomach squirmed and felt as if he were being torn from the inside out. Lying down and curling into a ball, he wished for release of any kind, even death. Dreams and halucinations plagued him with lies and images that were untrue. He screamed as one halucination bent down to grab him only to have him scoot away in a start. Another was of ghosts and decaying skeletons of long dead prisoners whom he had "met" with came reaching for him in a crowd. His eyes squeezed shut and his body curled so small it was almost inside itself. Delirium had taken him to it's full power and no one was coming to his aid.

**********************

The girl pulled away. Backing up until she had backed into Tristan who held her by the arms and forced her to stare at the frail boy on the bed. "No! Ah won't look anymore! It's a lie! My father would never do such a thing!" Her screams were silenced as her struggles to back up and out of the room continued.

"It's true!" A whisper near her left ear. "That is what your father has done to our Captain. Don't you see, girl? Look, look at him and tell him it was a lie."

Her tears fell as whimpers came. "Please let me go." Her attention was directed to Logan, who stood off to the left of them. His grim expression frightened her but, it was only out of concern for Remy. The trembles stopped and she stepped forward, away from Tristan. She was calm and spoke in a small voice. "He has snakes, five of them. Father-- father inserted them as a torture device to get information about you all. LeBeau never told a word of it. His father had the same treatment only, he spit them out. Your Captain has them from another entrance."

The shock and horror spread onto everyone's face as their eyes had all focussed on Remy.

"How do we go about removing them?" Breaking the silence with her firm voice, Storm spoke calmly.

Logan moved to sit on the side of the bed and brush a wet lock behind Remy's right ear. He stared at the sleeping boy before answering. "I don't know but, it'd better be soon." If there hadn't have been anyone in the room but he and Remy, he would have wrapped the boy in his arms and held him tightly as the next fit took him into shutters of pain. He held back and only soothed him with soft shushes and easy hands that pet the cold body on the bed.

Carlington would pay for this.


Continued, again.