Crucify Me
folder
X-men Comics › Slash - Male/Male › Remy/Logan
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
8
Views:
4,844
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
X-men Comics › Slash - Male/Male › Remy/Logan
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
8
Views:
4,844
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
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 6
WARNINGS: Rape and sexual abuse of a child. Don’t read this if it offends you. I’ve tried not to get too graphic, but it’s important to the story.
NOTES: This story is very AU. At the beginning of the story, Remy is 10 years old and living with Bella Donna and her family and has been for several years. The song lyrics are from “Crucify” by Tori Amos.
~ I’ve been looking for a savior in these dirty sheets
Looking for a savior beneath these dirty sheets
I’ve been raising up my hands
Drive another nail in
Where’re those angels
When you need them? ~
Logan lifted Remy’s knapsack onto the bed, careful to be as quiet as possible; he didn’t want to wake the boy up. Glancing over the edge of the bed, Logan smiled. The boy was still sound asleep just as Logan had left him, cheeks still flushed but sleeping peacefully.
Moving to the side of the bed to get a better view of the sleeping boy, Logan took advantage of the boy’s slumber to get a better look at him. Too thin and in need of a bath, to be sure, but beautiful…angelic with his rosebud lips and long, dark eyelashes. The kid was going to be a real beauty someday, of that Logan was certain; he just needed someone to take care of him, and Logan intended to be that person. First things first though, he needed to get the kid’s stuff unpacked and run a bath, they had a long day ahead of them.
-------
Returning from the bathroom, Logan knelt on the floor by the sleeping boy. Tentatively, he reached a hand out and laid it on the boy’s shoulder as softly as possible; he didn’t want to scare the boy. “Wake up, kiddo,” he whispered.
Waking with a startled cry, Remy jerked away from Logan’s touch and backed up against the wall, eyes wide with fear and confusion. Remy was scared, this wasn’t his room and this wasn’t Bella Donna. The boy squeezed his eyes shut and pulled his knees up to his chin, pressing himself tight against the wall.
“It’s just me, kid. Remember?” Logan asked softly, not daring to touch the boy again.
“Non….S’il vous plaît…” Remy cried, tears running down his cheeks.
“I’m not gonna hurt you, kiddo. Come on now…” Logan whispered, keeping his distance, and waited for the boy to come to his senses.
After several long moments, Remy hesitantly opened his eyes, letting his gaze dart around the room before fixing it on the man kneeling in front of him. The man seemed familiar, but the boy still wasn’t entirely awake. “…Logan?”
“Yeah, kid, it’s me. You okay?”
“J'ai mal au bras…” Remy answered tearfully, his injured arm held tightly to his stomach.
“I, uh…I don’t suppose you speak English do you?” Logan asked with an apologetic grin.
“Non,” Remy answered softly, fighting to keep a smile off of his face.
“Yeah, yeah…go ahead and laugh. I know I ain’t too smart,” Logan said with a smirk. “I take it you understand it okay?”
Remy fought back a laugh and nodded, a smile playing at the edges of his lips in spite of the pain he was in.
-------
“I ran you a bath, kiddo. Thought you might want to get cleaned up,” Logan said as he dug through his duffel bag.
Remy fought down the fear the thought caused him and nodded; he had to trust this man.
“Here,” Logan said, tossing a plaid flannel shirt to the boy who caught it awkwardly in his good hand, “Since you don’t have any clean clothes yon wen wear that if you want.”
“Merci,” Remy answered softly.
“No problem, kid. Now get going,” Logan said, jerking his head in the direction of the bathroom. “Let me know if you need any help, okay?”
Remy nodded, clutching the shirt to his chest.
-------
Logan looked up from the TV as Remy reappeared, hair dripping wet, wearing the shirt Logan had given him unbuttoned over his ratty jeans, the hem and arms hanging down almost to his knees. “Go get a dry towel and come here, kid,” Logan said, smiling.
Remy returned a moment later, carrying one of the hotel towels carefully in both hands like a holy relic. Logan took it from the boy and unfolded it, motioning for the boy to turn around. “Come on, you’re dripping wet. Don’t want you catching cold, you’re running a fever as it is.”
Letting Logan throw the towel over his head, Remy stood as still as possible as the other man awkwardly scrubbed at his hair, almost knocking the boy off his feet. “Okay, turn back around and let me fix that shirt for you.”
“Sorry, kid…I’m not too good at this parenting stuff,” Logan muttered with a laugh as Remy turned to face him, hair sticking up in every direction in wild clumps.
“Personne n'est parfait,” Remy said softly with an answering smile.
“I think we’ve both got a lot to learn…” Logan laughed.
TBC
~ TRANSLATIONS ~
1) J'ai mal au bras
My arm hurts.
2) Personne n'est parfait
No one’s perfect.
NOTES: This story is very AU. At the beginning of the story, Remy is 10 years old and living with Bella Donna and her family and has been for several years. The song lyrics are from “Crucify” by Tori Amos.
~ I’ve been looking for a savior in these dirty sheets
Looking for a savior beneath these dirty sheets
I’ve been raising up my hands
Drive another nail in
Where’re those angels
When you need them? ~
Logan lifted Remy’s knapsack onto the bed, careful to be as quiet as possible; he didn’t want to wake the boy up. Glancing over the edge of the bed, Logan smiled. The boy was still sound asleep just as Logan had left him, cheeks still flushed but sleeping peacefully.
Moving to the side of the bed to get a better view of the sleeping boy, Logan took advantage of the boy’s slumber to get a better look at him. Too thin and in need of a bath, to be sure, but beautiful…angelic with his rosebud lips and long, dark eyelashes. The kid was going to be a real beauty someday, of that Logan was certain; he just needed someone to take care of him, and Logan intended to be that person. First things first though, he needed to get the kid’s stuff unpacked and run a bath, they had a long day ahead of them.
-------
Returning from the bathroom, Logan knelt on the floor by the sleeping boy. Tentatively, he reached a hand out and laid it on the boy’s shoulder as softly as possible; he didn’t want to scare the boy. “Wake up, kiddo,” he whispered.
Waking with a startled cry, Remy jerked away from Logan’s touch and backed up against the wall, eyes wide with fear and confusion. Remy was scared, this wasn’t his room and this wasn’t Bella Donna. The boy squeezed his eyes shut and pulled his knees up to his chin, pressing himself tight against the wall.
“It’s just me, kid. Remember?” Logan asked softly, not daring to touch the boy again.
“Non….S’il vous plaît…” Remy cried, tears running down his cheeks.
“I’m not gonna hurt you, kiddo. Come on now…” Logan whispered, keeping his distance, and waited for the boy to come to his senses.
After several long moments, Remy hesitantly opened his eyes, letting his gaze dart around the room before fixing it on the man kneeling in front of him. The man seemed familiar, but the boy still wasn’t entirely awake. “…Logan?”
“Yeah, kid, it’s me. You okay?”
“J'ai mal au bras…” Remy answered tearfully, his injured arm held tightly to his stomach.
“I, uh…I don’t suppose you speak English do you?” Logan asked with an apologetic grin.
“Non,” Remy answered softly, fighting to keep a smile off of his face.
“Yeah, yeah…go ahead and laugh. I know I ain’t too smart,” Logan said with a smirk. “I take it you understand it okay?”
Remy fought back a laugh and nodded, a smile playing at the edges of his lips in spite of the pain he was in.
-------
“I ran you a bath, kiddo. Thought you might want to get cleaned up,” Logan said as he dug through his duffel bag.
Remy fought down the fear the thought caused him and nodded; he had to trust this man.
“Here,” Logan said, tossing a plaid flannel shirt to the boy who caught it awkwardly in his good hand, “Since you don’t have any clean clothes yon wen wear that if you want.”
“Merci,” Remy answered softly.
“No problem, kid. Now get going,” Logan said, jerking his head in the direction of the bathroom. “Let me know if you need any help, okay?”
Remy nodded, clutching the shirt to his chest.
-------
Logan looked up from the TV as Remy reappeared, hair dripping wet, wearing the shirt Logan had given him unbuttoned over his ratty jeans, the hem and arms hanging down almost to his knees. “Go get a dry towel and come here, kid,” Logan said, smiling.
Remy returned a moment later, carrying one of the hotel towels carefully in both hands like a holy relic. Logan took it from the boy and unfolded it, motioning for the boy to turn around. “Come on, you’re dripping wet. Don’t want you catching cold, you’re running a fever as it is.”
Letting Logan throw the towel over his head, Remy stood as still as possible as the other man awkwardly scrubbed at his hair, almost knocking the boy off his feet. “Okay, turn back around and let me fix that shirt for you.”
“Sorry, kid…I’m not too good at this parenting stuff,” Logan muttered with a laugh as Remy turned to face him, hair sticking up in every direction in wild clumps.
“Personne n'est parfait,” Remy said softly with an answering smile.
“I think we’ve both got a lot to learn…” Logan laughed.
TBC
~ TRANSLATIONS ~
1) J'ai mal au bras
My arm hurts.
2) Personne n'est parfait
No one’s perfect.