Origins

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katiej - thank you! I was hoping it would bring out emotions. I'm so glad you enjoyed it.


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See notes, disclaimers, and warnings in the first chapter

Notes #2: The lyrics used in this chapter belong to the song ‘Trouble’
by Coldplay. The words on the marker are by Sablerose, who graciously allowed
me the use of part of her poem.

Words between / / are thoughts, mind speak

Words between ~ ~ are lyrics to any songs I might use

Words between * * are flashbacks, but they are noted that way

Ch 29

Grey.

That was the only thing floating in his mind. Everything was grey. A dull,
drab hue, that’s not really in the category of black, or that of white,
but rather varying shades somewhere in between the two extremes. He mused that
it really shouldn’t be called a color at all, being completely bland and
void of any vitality. It was like staring at a two dimensional old photograph
of unfamiliar scenery that sparks no emotional connection, yet plays a great
deal on the most negative feelings of depression that a soul can experience.
There was no style or substance to the color. It simply was.

It was cold; the chill in the air allowing the exhalation of breath to crystallize
into a fog as it permeated the drops of water that fell with a gentle, steady
rhythm all around. Grey and cold; why did the two always seem to come as a pair?
Remy took no notice of the rain falling down, nor any acknowledgement of the
people standing around him. He was focused on the little rectangular plot of
fresh, soggy dirt, and the stone statue of a little angel girl with an upturned
face at its head; the drizzle of drops running like tears from the corner of
the marble eyes as they stared unseeing into the heavens above.

The sky was as granular as the stone, one mimicking the other. They were both
cold and grey, just like everything else – the thought running over and
over in his head. It was weird to him where the mind wanders when faced with
overwhelming despair and tragedy.

Completely numb didn’t begin to describe his body; his mind still running
around in meaningless circles. It felt like he had been in a state of limbo
for days, unable to handle even the smallest of details without zoning completely
out of the picture. He would have to thank the Professor later for his kind
generosity in donating the tombstone. Despite the solid dull color, it was quite
beautiful. Krystal would have loved it, he decided. She always seemed to find
beauty in anything she came across. So unlike himself; jaded most of the time.
Ruby eyes wandered to the engraved words he knew by heart, the words engraved
on all of the headstones the Professor had given to the clan’s graves.

*In our eye's you'll always shine

*A star that fell too soon

It was the last line of a poem dedicated to fallen heroes. He remembered the
one who had written it, one of the older women in the clan. Idly his mind wandered
to that moment. Her adopted name had been Sable Rose, a beautiful non-mutant
member of the Morlock family that had fallen in love with them. The choice to
live her life among them was an easy one that Remy understood, the powerful
need of a lonely spirit to grasp the familial welcoming comforts of the clan.
They were the true heroes, bravely living their lives as best they could despite
all that so-called civilization threw at them, taking in the strays that no
one else wanted.

But in the end, the only focus that remained foremost in his mind was the cold
and the color grey.

The group was silent as Kurt chanted on, prayers and rites given over unknown
souls regardless of what their personal beliefs had been. The Professor took
the opportunity to study his followers from under the edge of the umbrella he
held over his head. Most of the team had their heads down, whether in silent
prayer or to hide their grief over the senseless death of strangers was unclear.
Glancing at the man known as Wolverine, Xavier noted that the older mutant had
his face slightly raised, eyes closed as he let the water cascade over his features,
hiding his tears. Xavier suspected he knew why.

/Men don’t cry/

He remembered the comment the feral had made so long ago, when the man had
first arrived at the mansion, determined to hold an ironclad control over his
emotions. It was a weakness, the feral thought at the time, having been conditioned
to believe such. The Professor smiled sadly at the man. It was amazing how far
the older mutant had come, how hard he worked to overcome that conditioning.
The strength in that alone spoke volumes and the telepath could only admire
the feral for his courage.

Shifting his gaze slightly, he studied the team leader. So much like the son
he never had the chance to raise; yet different in so many ways. But Xavier
was proud of the man Scott Summers had become. Together with his prized student,
Jean, the couple had managed to find normalcy in a crazy world; marrying and
starting a family amidst the prejudice and strife. He knew that Jean was worrying
herself with guilt at not being allowed to attend the service. Hank had insisted,
though. She was still on bed rest from her overload with Cerebro. And, being
caught in a never ending downpour for an extended period of time may lead to
a cold, something the very pregnant mutant could not afford at this stage.

At the thought of the downpour, Xavier turned his look towards his weather
warrior. She was so proud, so strong. But this was all too much for her. Despite
her best efforts, she could not control the deep sadness that invaded her very
soul like a leech, draining away her control until the steady downpour was beyond
her capacity to hold back. They were all feeling it; the darkness, despair,
and the overwhelming grief. Shifting his gaze back to the newest member standing
at the head of the grave, Xavier finally knew what Remy’s third power
was.

It had eluded him, on the very tip of his awareness, but he was never sure
until this very moment. The waves of emotions rolled off of him like a tidal
wave, even as his mask was firmly in place. The boy was an empath. The head
slightly bowed allowed the rain soaked strands of auburn hair turned dark in
wetness to trail over his face, hiding his features from everyone. But, the
Professor didn’t need to see his face to know what the other mutant was
feeling. His own impressive shielding could not even hold it back, and Xavier
wondered yet again just how powerful an Omega class mutant the Cajun was. Perhaps
it would be something that they could explore together now that he knew. That
is, if the boy would let him in. Closing his eyes to the sight, and turning
his head back towards Kurt, Xavier sighed and said his own prayers over his
fellow man.

As the last words were spoken and Kurt clutched his good book to his chest,
most of the team cast concerned glances at the Cajun as they turned to make
their way back to the mansion. The numbers dwindled until there remained only
two at the gravesite. Logan stood beside Remy, a quiet pillar of strength to
the boy as he struggled to cope.

After a few moments, Logan’s hand slowly reached out and intertwined
with Remy’s. It was contact that he needed to bring him back, as lost
and alone as he felt. He slowly turned and they simply stared at each other.

Emerald green irises saddened as Rogue turned her gaze to the two men still
standing by the grave. As she watched them stare at each other, she could not
help the flare of jealousy. One man she could touch, but could never have; the
other she wanted to have, but could never touch. Logan’s hand lifted and
caressed the Cajun’s cheek, Remy closing his eyes in response. And as
the scene played out, her gut twisted in loneliness and despair even as a small
smile played on her lips, her heart wishing them true happiness as she turned
away to leave and give them the privacy they deserved. Both had come to mean
a great deal to her and she would not begrudge them the feelings they shared
for one another, no matter how much it hurt.

******

It wasn’t about sex.

It was about comfort.

The need to feel alive after being surrounded by so much death.

The need to feel another soul’s touch.

Logan laid him down, moving in slow motion as he peeled soaked clothing from
the cold skin it cloaked. Gentle kisses worked their way over the chilled body,
bringing warmth everywhere lips touched reverently.

Remy closed his eyes and sighed shakily. His hands came up to softly skim through
Logan’s hair as the older man stoked a dying fire back to life. Logan
called on all his experience as he entered the willing body below, and rocked
with a tender rhythm, his tongue mimicking the motions in the younger mutant’s
mouth.

Remy could feel all of the feral, the physical and the emotional. The older
man laid it all before him, wrapped it around him like a blanket, a lifeline
to his drifting soul. And he grabbed onto that saving tether with all his strength,
concentrating on the feral as he made sweet, slow love to him, helping drive
away the darkness.

“Remy” Logan whispered. “I’m here for you.”
His breath ghosted over the younger man’s lips, and the tears that would
not fall at Krystal’s grave began to slip out, trailing down Remy’s
face to drop off into nothing. “I’m here.” He whispered again.

They moved as one entity, no clear definition where one ended and the other
began. And emotions climaxed, two bodies gasping in pleasure, before slowly
ebbing away. One large, masculine hand came up to softly comb back auburn strands
of hair and wipe away straggling tears, the strength in the man belied by the
gentle gesture. No words were needed as everything was said through their eyes,
the windows to their souls. And they drifted off into dreamless sleep, clinging
to each other….saving each other.

*****

Remy’s eyes fluttered open. He continued to breathe slow and easy so
his lover would not stir from his deep slumber. The dawn was still far away
and the night closed around him like a blanket. But, he could not return to
sleep. His mind raced with a multitude of thoughts and he found he could no
longer lay idle in bed. Slowly, like the master thief he was, he eased from
the bed and made a quiet trek from the room, down the hall and stairs to the
workout room below. He recalled the room was soundproof and the door closed
behind him as he stepped over to the stereo system. There was already a music
disc in the unit and he found that it didn’t really matter what was playing.
As long as it was some kind of background noise to fill the silence, it would
be fine. For the past several days, Remy had vacillated between listless indifference
and numb resignation. And now, he needed to feel the burn of muscles moving
and stretching as he contorted through various exercises.

A press of the play button caused the speakers to fill with a soulful, melancholic
piano with just the right slow tempo to match his mood. He started his routine
with a handstand; his body straight and toes pointed towards the ceiling. Intent
on holding that form for a moment, he nearly lost his balance to fall on his
face when he heard the first lyrics of the song.

~ Oh no, I see

A spider web is tangled up with me~

Remy recovered quickly, smoothly maneuvering such that the near collapse turned
into a somersault, allowing him to return to a standing position. How ironic,
he mused, that the first words of a song he had never heard before would so
eloquently describe his current predicament. A quick step led to a series of
flips and tumbles, as if he were avoiding incoming strikes. His body moved on
automatic, initiating the steps and moves as naturally as breathing. All the
while, his mind wandered. Once, when he was a kid, he remembered seeing a spider
web up close. In the open doorway of an abandoned, dilapidated building, he
sat and stared out into the rain soaked night. With the rain pouring down in
sheets, and the wind blowing so strong, there would be no hope of picking a
pocket. The streets were empty, for the most part, and too dangerous when there
was no prospect of earning a little money. So, he sat and listened to the rain
as it struck the concrete. But, his eyes were riveted on a large, intricate
web that stretched from one upper corner of the doorway to the other. A large
cockroach had flown into the middle of the thread, and was struggling futilely
against the sticky matter. The spider was simply waiting for its prey to cease
moving before it would cocoon it and feed. He remembered being fascinated at
the whole process, and watched it for hours on end as a way to ignore the gnawing
hunger in his own belly.

~And I never meant to cause you trouble

And I never meant to do you wrong~

A quick spin kick set him off into a series of fluid back flips and smooth
cartwheels as his mind continued to muse, the lyrics of the song filtering through
his thoughts. In a way, his own life was like that of the bugs that were caught
in the webbing. He was trapped, unable to see a way out, waiting for his particular
nemesis to strike. The worst part was the knowledge that he would destroy descent
people that had become his friends, his family…. his lover. Had, in fact,
already done so with the death of the Morlocks. Remy lost his footing and fell
to one knee at the thought of those they had buried earlier. His breath was
harsh in his chest, proof that he was overworking himself to fatigue, but he
didn’t care.

Pushing himself up, he started on a series of slow, methodical moves. Though
he couldn’t remember all of the steps, he did recall the name of the form
- Tai chi. The first time he had seen it, he had been searching the alleys behind
some restaurants for any tossed food. It was very early in the morning, just
past dawn. He had found that the earlier he could raid the dumpsters, the better
his chances of finding some uneaten food that had not yet been soiled by the
contents of the trash under it, or destroyed by trash poured on top. It was
a fine line, finding just the right time to hit the restaurants by the waterfront
that served early morning breakfasts. On this particular morning, he had scored
a mostly whole biscuit and an untouched sausage patty among the refuse, and
decided to sit on the edge of the docks to watch the water. As he chewed his
sandwich in utter bliss, he noticed an older oriental couple further down the
pathway. They were performing moves in sync, and it looked to Remy as if they
were dancing a slow, intricate dance of some sort. He continued to watch them
for a while until the streets started to fill with more people starting the
day, then he scampered back to the relative safety of the shadows. But, each
morning that he came to scrounge for breakfast, he saw the old couple and watched
them perform their dance. They seemed at peace and content, and Remy decided
he wanted to give it a try. If there was one thing that he hoped for at such
a young age, it was to find a little happiness. He began to mimic their moves
from a distance, keeping to their backs as much as possible lest they see him.

This routine continued for almost a week, until one day when the couple ended
the form and the older man turned to look directly at Le Diable Blanc. Remy
flinched, startled at being caught, but the older man didn’t seem bothered
by the red-eyed child that had been watching them.



“It is called Tai chi, little one.” He said, a small smile playing
on his face at the little ragamuffin a few yards away. “And if you join
us over here, we will teach you the proper way to perform the steps.”
He held out one hand towards Remy, making an innocent offer. But Remy had been
living on the streets too long by that time, and didn’t trust the words.
Grownups, he had learned, always wanted something from him – usually something
unpleasant. He turned and ran, ignoring their pleas to come back, and never
returned to watch them. Over the years, without anyone to teach him differently,
Remy had developed his own style of the art.

~ Oh no, I see

The spider web and it's me in the middle

So I twist and turn

But here am I in my little bubble~

He ended his unique version of katas, and began another violent series of moves
as the piano continued to play. Remy recalled that his father had called the
moves a form of gymnastic martial arts. But, for the Cajun, it was something
that seemed to be a part of the very cells in his body. A back-flip kick with
both feet preceded a cartwheel kick into an imaginary target's face. A hand-stand
allowed him to grab an imaginary target between the legs, followed by a slam
flip that would put said target beneath him in a landing. It ended with a somersault
strike that had him flipping into a somersault that would land on a target's
chest if he were fighting. Instead, he landed on the floor, on one knee, head
bent and eyes closed as he panted for air. Sweat dripped from the tip of his
nose as he listened to the lyrics of the song; his heart in his throat as the
words rang true.

~ They spun a web for me

They spun a web for me

They spun ……~

The music abruptly ended with a click. Remy’s eyes flew open and he whirled
around to stare at the person on the far side of the room.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Xavier softly asked, one hand
still touching the stereo while the other rested in his lap.

“Leavin’ tonight. Don’t t’ink I’ll be comin’
back.” Remy took a deep breath and stood from his crouched position. He
nearly choked on his next words. “Will…will you take care of Logan
for me?”

Xavier eyed him speculatively for a few moments and decided to try one more
time to reach out to the boy. “We can help you, if you’ll just trust
us.” He projected all the calm sincerity of a nurturing mother to a newborn
babe.

The Cajun felt the emotions coming from the older man, somehow knew that they
were intentional, and it was his undoing. He didn’t want to fight anymore;
was tired of the subterfuge. Briefly closing his eyes, he opened them with renewed
determination.

“Professeur, please help me.” He whispered. But, the words were
loud enough for the telepath to hear.

Xavier rolled towards the boy until he could almost touch him. “Then
tell me, whose spider web are you caught in?”

End ch 29

********

on to part 30

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