Title: Crucify Me
Author: Xanax
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: X-Men Comicverse
Pairing: Logan/Remy
Permission to post: Anyone who wants it, feel free, just give me credit.
Disclaimer: As much as I wish it weren’t true, Logan and Remy aren’t mine; I’m just having a bit of fun. They belong to Marvel, not me.
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.
Summary: A different sort of story about how Logan and Remy got together.
Archiver's Note: Chapters can and will have end notes and translations at the end of specific chapters. Next chapter to follow directly after these notes
Crucify Me
By Xanax
~ New Orleans – 1990 ~
Bella Donna Boudreaux raced up the grand staircase leading to the second floor of her family’s mansion, cheeks flushed and hair flying. Bypassing the lush bedrooms and the well-stocked library, she tore down the hallway to the disused servants’ quarters and flung open one of the doors, shoving it closed behind her and leaning against it.
Panting and trying to regain her breath, she let her eyes adjust to the dim light in the windowless room, only able to see the figure lying on the mattress on the floor because of the weak candlelight thrown by a sputtering red candle burning in the corner of the room, surrounded by an odd jumble of materials the panicked girl didn’t so much as glance at. Falling to her knees at the side of the tattered mattress, she gently laid a hand on the figure’s bony shoulder and shook lightly but insistently, whispering urgently, “Remy, réveille-toi! Mon père vient!”
Bella Donna jumped back with a gasp as the boy she had just wakened sat bolt upright with a start, eyes wide with fear, chest heaving. “Hâte, il vient! Sort du lit!”
Scrambling up from the makeshift bed, the boy swore under his breath, yanking a tattered sweater over his head, cheeks flushed with a mix of fever and fear. “Va t‘en, Bel!” the boy whispered urgently, knowing that if her father caught her with him they would both be in danger. “Je serai bien, va t‘en!” the boy whispered again, more urgently, pushing the hesitant girl toward the door.
With a look of panicked indecision, the girl, with one final look of sympathetic fear, rushed into the hallway and down the servants’ stairs, not ten seconds before her father, Marius Boudreaux, rounded the corner into the hallway, moving with barely concealed rage.
Throwing open the door his ten-year-old daughter has so recently closed, Marius stalked over to the boy huddling on the mattress, grabbing a handful of the boy’s tousled cinnamon hair and yanking him to his feet, eyes ablaze with anger. “What in the hell is the matter with you, boy? You know you’re supposed to be downstairs, not sitting up here on your good-for-nothing ass! What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” he spat, yanking the boy’s head up and forcing him to meet his eyes, “Huh?”
“Je suis désolé, Monsieur, ” the boy cried, trying to pull back from the harsh grip the glowering man had on him.
Releasing his grip on the boy’s hair, Marius drew his hand back and smacked the cringing boy, knocking him off balance and forcing him to stagger back several steps. “Don’t backtalk me, boy. You try that again and you’re not gonna be able to talk at all. Now get your ass downstairs!” he snapped, noting with pleasure that the boy was trembling in fear. “Now!”
Giving his tormentor a minute’s head start out the door, Remy drew in a shaky breath and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to get the worst of the tangles out. Unsteady on his feet and shivering with chills from his untreated fever, the boy steeled himself for the inevitable and set off down the hallway.
-------
~ Every finger in the room is pointing at me
I wanna spit in their faces
Then I get so afraid of what it could bring ~
Entering the opulent parlor, Remy took up an unobtrusive position in the corner of the room, as close to the fireplace as he could get without being in the way. He didn’t want to draw any more attention to himself than necessary, not that it did him any good.
Within moments of entering the room, he could almost feel the change in the atmosphere as all eyes in the room moved to fix on him. He knew why they were looking at him, he’d been through this before, and he hated them for it. He knew better than to fight it, though. The last time he had refused, he’d come away with a broken jaw, a dislocated shoulder and three cracked ribs. He wasn’t about to go through that again, it was so much easier to just let them and hope that someday things would be different.
Sighing, the boy settled in the corner and waited for the “games” to begin. Soon enough one of these expensively-dressed men would make their move and yet another night of unbearable pain would have begun. Looking at the half-dozen unfamiliar faces around the room, Remy resigned himself to a difficult night. The only sympathetic face he could see in the entire room was Bella Donna’s and although it gave him some measure of comfort, it couldn’t overpower the fear he felt when he looked at the unconcealed lust on the other faces in the room. His whole body ached already, whether from illness or the abuse it took on a daily basis, he didn’t know, but he was certain come morning it would be worse. Folding his arms across his knees and resting his head on them, he closed his eyes.
-------
Waking with a start, Remy jerked away from the hand stroking his cheek as if burned. Noting the look of glaring disapproval on the face of the man sitting in front of him, the boy forced himself to remain calm, stilling himself, and allowed the man to brush the long bangs away from his eyes, fingers lingering on his cheek in a false show of tenderness.
“You ‘wake now, boy?” the man asked quietly, in a voice that would have seemed caring if it weren’t for the bulge the boy could clearly see pressing against the front of the man’s pants. He knew this man didn’t care about him. None of them did. Nodding almost imperceptibly, Remy waited impatiently. He wanted to get this over with, he didn’t want to play games or pretend this man gave a damn about him.
“Good boy. You’re real pretty, boy. Real pretty. You want to play with me?” the man asked, ruffling Remy’s bangs. “You wanna play some games with me, pretty boy?”
Forcing down the nausea that the idea gave him, Remy nodded, eyes downcast, ashamed. It made him sick to play along like this, but in the end it hurt less and for it that he was grateful.
“That’s my boy,” the man whispered throatily, eyes hungry. “Lead the way, son.”
-------
Watching from across the room, Bella Donna watched the man, one of her father’s “friends,” take Remy’s hand and pull him to his feet and follow the boy from the room. Offering up a silent prayer, she turned away, sick with the knowledge that this would only be the first of a half-dozen such assaults the boy would have to endure tonight and that the future held nothing but more of the same.
Furtively watching the flow of her father’s friends up and down the staircase, Bella Donna kept count, waiting until the last of the guests had returned to the parlor before stealing p the stairs herself, careful to remain quiet, not wanting to alert her father to her whereabouts.
Tip-toeing to the end of the hall, she eased open the door to the boy’s room and slipped in. Shutting the door quietly behind her, she moved to stand behind the boy as he knelt on the floor in front of his altar, a red-painted libation bottle in his hand. Whispering something she couldn’t hear, a prayer, she was sure, he brought the bottle to his lips and drank before handing it to her.
Bella took the bottle from the boy’s trembling hand and drank, wincing at the burn of the rum in her throat. Examining the bottle, she nodded to herself…Erzulie Dantor; the veve of a heart being pierced by a knife telling her to whom the boy was praying. Quietly replacing the bottle on the altar by a small shrine to Saint Jacques, Bella Donna patiently waited for the boy to finish his prayers. Fixing his gaze on the wall above the altar where a crucifix hung, Remy held out his hand for the girl to take.
“Ave Maria gratia plena
Dominus tecum
Benedictus tu in mulierbus
Et benedictus fructus ventres tui lesus
Sancta Maria, Sancta Maria
Maria ora pro nobis, nobis peccatoribus
Nunc et hora mortis nostrae…”
“Amen,” they whispered in unison.
After several minutes of poignant silence, Remy turned to look at her with such pain in his eyes that it hurt to look at. Pulling her friend into a fierce hug, she held the now sobbing boy against her chest, rocking softly, stroking his hair.
“Est-tu fatigué, mon coeur?” she asked softly, not wanting to let the boy go, but wanting to ease his pain.
Nodding, the boy buried his face in her neck and allowed himself to be hushed. Dieu, he was tired; tired in body and soul, far more tired than any ten-year-old was ever meant to be.
“Au lit, Remy,” Bella Donna whispered, giving him a gentle push. “Je chanterai pour toi.”
Sighing, the boy moved to his makeshift bed and lay down with a whimper of pain; his whole body ached and moving only made it worse. Settling on his stomach in the middle of the mattress, he yawned, eyes heavy with sleep. Closing his eyes wearily, he smiled softly as Bella Donna settled next to him, stroking his hair and began to softly sing a familiar lullaby.
“Bonne nuit, cher enfant
Quand tu dors dans mes bras.
Le monde tourne en rond
Et le jour reviendra.
Jour de larmes, de sourires,
Jour de peine ou de joie,
Mais ce soir, tu t'endors
Comme un ange dans mes bras…”
-------
Smiling softly to herself, Bella Donna brushed a stray lock of chestnut hair from in front of the boy’s eyes. He was sound asleep, thankfully, looking so painfully innocent with his face unguarded and his thumb in his mouth, a comfort the boy often turned to at times like this, that she felt a fierce surge of protectiveness for the sleeping boy. One way or another, she would save him…he deserved better.
~ CHAPTER 1 TRANSLATIONS ~
1) Réveille-toi! Mon père vient: Wake up! My father’s coming!
2) Hâte, il vient! Sort du lit!: Hurry, he’s coming! Get out of bed!
3) Va t‘en!: Go!
4) Je serai bien, va t‘en!: I’ll be fine, go!
5) Est-tu fatigué, mon coeur?: Are you tired, my heart?
6) Au lit!: Get in bed
7) Je chanterai pour toi: I’ll sing for you
8) Bonne nuit, cher enfant: Good night, dear child
Quand tu dors dans mes bras.: When you sleep in my arms
Le monde tourne en rond: The world turns in round
Et le jour reviendra.: And the day will return
Jour de larmes, de sourires,: Day of tears, of smiles
Jour de peine ou de joie,: Day of sorrow or of joy
Mais ce soir, tu t'endors: But this evening, you fall asleep
Comme un ange dans mes bras: Like an angel in my arms
~ CHAPTER 1 NOTES ~
1) Erzulie Dantor is the Voodoo Lwa (god-like spirit) of hurricanes, vengeance, and broken hearts.
2) Saint Jacques is the Voodoo warrior Lwa who is prayed to when someone is facing a battle of any sort.
3) The Latin prayer is the “Ave Maria”, better known as the “Hail Mary”…you know, the one they make you say as penance after confession, and all that?
CHAPTER 2
~ 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
Just what God needs
One more victim ~
“Âllo, Monsieur. You see that boy over there? He’s my brother. He’s real sweet. Talented, too,” Bella Donna asked, pointing Remy out to a likely looking man entering the bar they were lounging in front of. “You interested?”
Giving the boy a once-over, he stepped closer to the girl. “How old is he?”
“Treize,” Bella replied, voice firm, challenging the man to contradict her.
“He don’t look thirteen to me,” the man muttered, squinting at the boy who was leaning against the wall, smiling coyly.
“Take it or leave it, Monsieur. You don’ want him, there’s plenty of other people that do…” Bella Donna said flippantly, making as if to turn away.
“How much?” the man whispered, grabbing the girl’s arm to hold her in place.
“Trente for de best head you ever had, cinquante for a fuck,” she answered, trying to keep the disgust it caused her out of her voice. She didn’t like doing this any more than Remy did, but her father would have both of their hides if they didn’t.
Glancing around to make sure they weren’t being watched, the man slipped a twenty and a ten out of his pocket into Bella Donna’s waiting hand which immediately disappeared into the pocket of her jacket, coming out empty just as quickly.
Nodding her head in Remy’s direction, she busied herself scuffing at the sidewalk with the toe of one of her patent leather Mary Jane’s, not wanting to have to see the look of quiet acceptance on the boy’s face as he led the man into the alley at the side of the bar.
-------
Entering the alley, Remy leaned against the brick wall, giving his customer a quick once-over from behind his sunglasses. Middle-aged, graying sandy brown hair, handsome and distinguished looking…at least that made it a little easier. Smiling coyly at the man currently standing in front of him, Remy dropped to his knees at the man’s feet, forcing to make it look like he actually wanted the man.
Unzipping his jeans with a predatory grin that made the boy eager to have the job over and done with, the man tipped the boy’s chin up, guiding his cock to the boy’s mouth and thrusting in with a stifled groan.
Forcing himself to relax, Remy allowed the man to tangle his fingers in his bangs and fuck his mouth. Telling himself that it would be over in a matter of moments, the boy fought down his fear and his nausea and forced himself to suck. No matter how many times he did this, it scared him…the feeling of not being able to breathe, being choked. Praying silently for it to be over with as soon as possible, he almost cried in relief as the man climaxed, filling his mouth with the taste of his bitter cum.
Pulling out and tucking himself back into his pants, the man smirked at the boy at his feet. “Swallow it, boy,” he whispered, laying his hand against the boy’s throat to ensure that he followed the order given to him. Forcing himself to obey, Remy swallowed, having to fight back a grimace of disgust.
“You know, you remind me of my son,” the man said over his shoulder as he walked out of the alley. “He’s about your age, but you’re a hell of a lot better than he is…”
-------
Waiting until the man had disappeared from the street into the bar, Bella Donna moved to the alley and sat down on the cracked asphalt at the boy’s feet, not saying anything, waiting for Remy to acknowledge her presence.
“J‘ai peur, Bel,” Remy whispered, without raising his eyes from the toes of his sneakers.
“Je sais,” she whispered in return, reaching out to stroke his hair. “As-tu faim?”
“Oui, un petit,” Remy whispered dejectedly.
“Allons,” she answered, holding out her hand and pulling Remy to his feet.
-------
Logan sat in the darkest corner of the bar, idly watching the other customers with no real interest. Propping his feet up on the chair on the opposite side of the table, Logan leaned his head back and sighed; he was bored.
Grunting as a shaft of light hit his eyes as someone entered the door, Logan opened his eyes to see who had come in. One eyebrow arching up, he sat up straighter. It wasn’t every day you saw unescorted children in bars, even in New Orleans. One was a girl of about ten or eleven with golden blonde hair and luminous eyes, the other a boy of about the same age with cinnamon hair whose eyes were hidden behind sunglasses.
Turning his head slightly to follow the young newcomers path, Logan watched as they approached the bar, the girl saying something Logan didn’t catch to the bartender, who nodded almost imperceptibly and nodded his head toward a table hidden in the shadows of the corner of the bar opposite the one Logan sat in. Moving off to the table the bartender had indicated, they sat down, the boy laying his head on his arms with an audible sigh.
Not wanting to stare, Logan turned to peeling the label off his beer bottle, wondering idly what kids their age were doing in a bar. The girl was far too well-dressed to be homeless, but the boy looked like he could use a good meal and a good night’s sleep. He supposed she was just one of few kids around these days whose parents taught them to help those less fortunate than themselves. That would explain what she was doing with a street kid like the boy, but it still didn’t explain what two kids that young were doing in a bar in the first place. Not even the best fake ID could get them served, Logan thought with an amused snort.
His answer came a few moments later when the bartender brought a sandwich and fries over to the table and laid them down in front of the sleeping boy, taking the money the girl offered with a smile.
-------
“Mange,” Bella Donna whispered, gently shaking the boy’s shoulder to wake him.
Lifting his head groggily and eyeing the food with a mix of hunger and nausea, Remy sat up and pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head. No one in the bar was likely to make a fuss if he didn’t wear them; he’d just have to be sure to put them back on if anyone else came in.
Remy picked at his food, lost in thought. He was so tired of living this way. He couldn’t remember it ever being any other way and yet he knew that things could be different. That had to be the truth, it was the only hope he had. Looking up and Bella Donna and catching the worried look on her face, he forced himself to eat.
Forcing himself to finish his dinner under Bella Donna’s watchful eye, Remy looked idly around the bar. There were only a handful of other customers, most of whom he knew in one way or another…some past customers, some bar regulars. There was one man he didn’t recognize though; short, muscular, handsome in an unconventional way, with the blackest hair Remy had ever seen. He looked fierce, but there was something appealing about him…
Remy was pulled out of his musings by one of the other bar patrons approaching the table, giving the boy a lascivious smirk as he knelt by the table and addressed Bella Donna. “I got fifty bucks for your brother, little lady.”
“Oui, d’accord, Monsieur,” Bella answered, squeezing the boy’s hand across the table as she spoke.
Grinning lecherously at the boy, the man dug into his pocket and pressed the money into the girl’s outstretched hand without taking his eyes off of the boy. “Come on, sweet thing, you’re mine now,” the man whispered dangerously, grabbing Remy by the arm hard enough to bruise him and pulling him up from the table.
-------
Logan glared as he watched the man take the boy by the arm and lead him through a door into the back of the bar. Fighting back the urge to pound the man’s head into the ground, Logan waited. While he was unequivocally against the idea of a child being involved in this sort of business, he also understood that survival was the most important thing and that this kid was obviously trying to survive. If the boy chose to live his life like this, then there wasn’t much Logan could do about it, but there was always the chance that the kid didn’t have a choice, in which case he wasn’t going to stand around and let it happen.
-------
Standing up, Remy gathered his clothes and pulled them on, wincing in pain. There wasn’t a single place on his body that wasn’t throbbing in pain and all he wanted was to go home and go to sleep. He desperately hoped no one else was going to take an interest before they left; he didn’t think he could handle any more without some rest.
Heading back to the table, Remy saw that Bella Donna was standing, waiting for him. Putting an arm around her friend’s trembling shoulders, she gave them a gentle squeeze before leading him out the door into the chilly night air.
-------
Shaking his head in dismay, Logan watched the young pair leave. He didn’t know what their story was, but he had never seen such pain on anyone so young before. Even if the boy was voluntarily selling himself, there was no way Logan could go on with his life knowing that he had never given the boy a chance to have a better life. Sighing ruefully, he told himself that he would at least offer to help if he saw the boy again.
Even if the kid refused he would at least have tried…he had to at least do that much for someone so young who had seen so much suffering.
~ CHAPTER 2 TRANSLATIONS ~
1) J‘ai peur: I’m scared
2) As-tu faim?: Are you hungry?
3) Allons: Let’s go
4) Mange: Eat
CHAPTER 3
~ Why do we crucify ourselves?
Every day
I crucify myself
Nothing I do is good enough for you
Crucify myself
Every day
And my heart is sick of being in chains ~
“How many times have I told you two not to come home until you’ve got some money to show for it?” Marius spat, glaring at the terrified children standing frozen in front of him. “You call this money?”
“But Poppa, there’s almost $200 there and…” Bella Donna started, tears stinging her sapphire eyes.
“Shut up, Bel! Did I say you could talk?”
“Non,” the girl replied, eyes on the floor at her feet.
“Go to your room!” Marius shouted, glaring at the cringing girl.
“But Poppa…” Bella Donna protested.
“No buts! Allez!”
Sobbing freely, the girl rushed from the room, slamming the door to her bedroom moments later with such force that it could be heard clear across the house.
“I take you in, give you food and shelter and this is all you can bring home?” Marius snarled, waving the money in front of Remy’s face in emphasis. “Ungrateful little bastard…”
Cringing at the verbal assault, Remy remained silent. Arguing would only make matters worse, no matter how badly he wanted to protest. If he just stayed quiet and tried to look penitent then there was a chance he would walk away with only minor injuries; past experience had taught him well.
“Don’t you even have anything to say for yourself, boy?” the man snarled, grabbing his wrist with such force that Remy could hear the sickening crack as the bones were snapped.
“Je suis désolé, Monsieur…Je n’ai pas voulu le faire!” Remy sobbed, dropping to his knees and attempting to pull his arm away.
Shoving the sobbing boy away roughly, Marius stood silent for a moment. “Listen to me, boy, and listen good. You ever fucking come home without some money to show me and I’ll break your miserable little neck. You hear me?”
“Oui, Monsieur. Je vous entends,” Remy sobbed, clutching his wrist to his chest, curling into a tight ball.
“Good, now get the hell out of here before I throw you out,” the man snarled, eyes blazing with fury.
-------
Sobbing quietly to herself, Bella Donna listened to her father’s tirade. She had to do something, had to go to someone, had to find a way to get her friend out of here…he wasn’t going to survive if she didn’t, that much was obvious. There had to be someone she could turn to, she just didn’t know who or how.
Rocking slightly back and forth on her bed, she held her breath as she heard Remy’s soft footsteps on the stairs and the sound of muffled crying. What had her father done to him this time? He must have physically hurt him, Remy wouldn’t be crying if that weren’t the case; the boy always faced her father’s verbal assaults with the stoic resignation of a veteran victim.
Cracking her door open to peer down the stairs and satisfying herself that her father wasn’t watching, Bella Donna eased the door open and slipped into the hallway, shutting the door quietly behind her and tip-toeing down the hallway. Cautiously opening the door to the boy’s room, she slipped in, carefully shutting the battered oak door behind her.
Moving soundlessly to sit on the edge of the tattered mattress the boy was curled up on, Bella Donna reached a hand out to stroke the tear-wet bangs from the boy’s eyes. “Est-tu blessé?”
Holding up his injured wrist in way of an answer, Remy burst into noisy tears. His wrist was throbbing in pain and already bruised and swollen, burning with a sharp, searing heat that made him want to scream.
“Est-il fracturé?” Bella asked fearfully.
Nodding, Remy tucked his arm back against his chest and buried his face against the mattress.
“Merde,” the girl swore, looking around the room desperately for something to splint the boy’s wrist with. Seeing nothing usable in the small living space, she sighed irritably.
“Je reviendrai dans une minute…” she said, getting to her feet and swiftly exiting the room.
Returning a moment later with a small plank of wood she had retrieved from her room, an old shirt from the back of her closet and a pair of scissors, she sat down on the floor by the makeshift bed and gently took the boy’s arm and laid it in her lap. “Ceci sera pénible.”
“Je sais,” the boy whispered, squeezing his eyes shut.
Cutting several strips of fabric from the shirt she had returned with, she took the boy’s broken wrist in both hands and carefully lined it up on top of the board. Sliding several strips of cloth under the board, she firmly tied each one, immobilizing the boy’s wrist against the splint.
“Meilleur?” Bella Donna asked, wiping the tears away from the boy’s ruby eyes.
“Oui,” Remy answered almost imperceptibly.
Smiling gently, Bella Donna pressed a gentle kiss to the boy’s feverish forehead and laid down by his side, wrapping an arm around his chest.
-------
“Je ne suis jamais assez bon pour lui,” Remy whispered brokenly after several minutes of silence.
“Tu es assez bon pour moi,” Bella whispered fiercely, pulling the boy tighter to her.
“C’est vrai? ”
“Tu sais qu'il est.”
“Je t’aime, Bel.”
“Je t’aime, aussi, Remy.”
~CHAPTER 3 TRANSLATIONS ~
1) Je suis désolé, Monsieur… Je n’ai pas voulu le faire!: I’m sorry, Sir…I didn’t mean to do it!
2) Je vous entends: I hear you
3) Est-tu blessé?: Are you hurt?
3) Est-il fracture?: Is it broken?
4) Je reviendrai dans une minute: I’ll be back in a minute
5) Ceci sera pénible.: This is going to hurt
6) Je sais: I know
7) Meilleur?: Better?
8) Je ne suis jamais assez bon pour lui: I’m never good enough for him
9) Tu es assez bon pour moi: You’re good enough for me
10) C’est vrai?: Is that true?
11) Tu sais qu'il est.: You know it is
12) Je t’aime: I love you
13) Je t’aime, aussi: I love you, too
CHAPTER 4
~ I’ve been looking for a savior in these dirty streets
Looking for a savior beneath these dirty sheets
I’ve been raising up my hands
Drive another nail in
Got enough guilt to start
My own religion ~
Sitting at the pair’s usual table in the corner of the dimly lit bar, Remy poked at his food halfheartedly. He could feel Bella Donna’s watchful gaze on him and knew she wanted him to eat, but even the mere thought of food was enough to make the room spin; his arm was throbbing and he hadn’t gotten any sleep the night before and wasn’t looking forward to the rest of the day.
He and Bella Donna had already been on the streets for several hours but had only managed to make half as much money as they would need to earn before they could go home; that meant that they wouldn’t get home until late evening at the earliest and all Remy wanted was to curl up in bed and go to sleep.
The bar was near empty and for that Remy was both thankful and disappointed. While it meant that there would be no one staring at them, it also meant that they would have to go back outside in the cold to earn the rest of the money they needed. Even though most of the usual customers in the bar were sleazy at best, it was still better than having to work outside in the wind and the cold, at least inside it was warm and sheltered.
Letting his gaze wander around the room, Remy identified the small number of patrons, all of whom were regulars to the bar but not past customers. Strangely, the boy found that he was looking for the unfamiliar man he had noticed the day before, the one with the jet black hair and the fierce aura. As a rule, the boy was uncomfortable around men at best; he didn’t trust them for obvious reasons and preferred the company of women, but there was something in the stranger that held an interest for him and he was disappointed to see that the man was nowhere to be seen.
-------
Lying on the bed in his hotel room, staring at the ceiling, Logan pulled at a loose string on the comforter, trying to decide what to do. The day before he had managed to get one of the other patrons in the bar, after some polite inquiries and no small number of flat-out demands, to tell him about the kids who had come in earlier in the evening. No one seemed to know their names or who their parents were, but they’d been able to tell him that the two came in almost every day, both to eat and to drum up business.
Sitting up with an irritated sigh, Logan grabbed his wallet from the nightstand. There wasn’t any point sitting around debating, he knew that if he was going to do anything at all about the situation he’d have to make it to the bar before the kids left for the day, assuming they had come in at all. He didn’t have a plan, but that had never stopped him in the past; planning ahead just wasn’t his style at all, better to wing it and hope for the best.
-------
Under Bella Donna’s concerned gaze, Remy had managed to eat enough of his lunch to satisfy the girl’s motherly instincts and was free to daydream as the girl moved off to chat up a handful of new men who had recently entered the bar. With any luck, one or two of these newcomers would be interested and would put them that much closer to being able to go home. A couple seemed interested, to judge by the way they were staring in his direction as Bella Donna spoke, and Remy hoped they would hurry up and make up their minds so he could go home.
Poking at the food on his plate, Remy watched with mild interest as one of the men, an older man in a business suit, nodded his head in the direction of one of the other men and, following a hesitant nod from the girl, handed her a small roll of bills. Jerking her head in the direction of the table the boy was sitting at, Bella Donna set off back across the bar, a look of agitated guilt on her face.
“Je suis désolé, Remy, je devais le faire,” Bella Donna said softly, moving to stand by the side of the table. “Il m'a donné $100.”
Nodding solemnly, Remy turned his gaze to the two men standing by the table; neither one looked especially dangerous and it would put them that much closer to being able to go home for the night. Getting to his feet, he allowed the older man to take his good hand and lead him through to the back of the bar, with the younger man trailing behind.
-------
Entering the bar, Logan let his eyes adjust to the dim light, quickly noting the blonde girl’s presence at the same table she had been at the day before, but not seeing the boy. Reasoning that the girl wouldn’t be there alone, Logan ordered a beer and moved to sit at a table with a decent view of the one the girl was sitting at and settled down to wait, noting that the girl was staring intently in his direction with a look he couldn’t quite name on her face.
-------
Shaking uncontrollably, Remy pulled away as the older man tried to stroke his sweat-damp hair back from his forehead. He didn’t want to be touched, they’d gotten what they wanted and now all he wanted was for them to leave him alone. The younger man had already left the room, returning to the main room of the bar without so much as a backward glance in his direction and he wished the older man would do the same instead of trying to comfort him.
“What’s a matter, boy? I ain’t gonna hurt ya,” the man whispered in a false syrupy sweet tone. “Why would I want to hurt a sweet little thing like you for, huh?”
Pulling his knees tighter to his chest, Remy wedged himself tighter into the corner of the room, reflexively trying to make himself smaller. He just wanted to be left alone, not to be sweet-talked by this hypocrite who seemed to think that having a threesome with a ten-year-old didn’t constitute “hurting.”
Getting no response, the man grabbed the boy by his injured arm and hauled him to his feet, earning a choked cry of pain from the boy. “You think I would hurt a child, is that it? You think I’m some kind of sick bastard?” the man snarled, squeezing the boy’s arm hard enough that Remy felt as though he was going to pass out.
“Non, Monsieur!” Remy frantically cried, willing to say anything to get the man to release his hold on his arm and let him go.
“That’s right, boy. You better believe it,” the man muttered, releasing Remy’s arm with a disgusted sneer before turning and stalking out of the room.
-------
Seeing that the older man had left the backroom of the bar, Bella Donna turned her attention away from the man sitting in the corner of the room. The man’s reappearance meant that Remy would be returning soon as well and right now, he was of more interest to her than was the man she had been watching.
Moments later, Remy reappeared, pale and shaking, with his clothes in disarray. Glancing over at the man she had been observing, she noted that he too was watching the boy’s reappearance with sympathetic interest. Moving quickly to the boy’s side, she wrapped an arm around his shoulders and lead him back to the table and sitting him down in the chair opposite hers, with his back to the newcomer in the corner.
-------
If Logan had thought the kid looked about ready to keel over the day before, the boy looked like he was literally at death’s door as Logan watched him enter the main room of the bar. Not only was the kid white as a sheet and shaking, but it looked as though someone had broken his arm for him as well. Snarling quietly, Logan clenched his fists, furious that someone would do something like that to a child.
Seeing the boy in such pitiful shape, Logan knew there was no way he could walk away without trying to help the boy somehow, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he knowingly let a child that young remain in a situation like the one the boy was in. He had to do something; offer the kid a place to stay, maybe, or at the very least give the kid some money so that he could get himself someplace safe.
Shifting his gaze from the boy, Logan noticed that the girl was once again staring intently at him. He had the uncomfortable feeling that she was sizing him up, although for what purpose he didn’t know.
-------
Bella Donna couldn’t put her finger on it, but there was something about the dark-haired man in the corner of the room that kept drawing her attention. The fact that he seemed to be constantly staring in their direction was part of it, but that wasn’t really it. Bella Donna was used to having men staring in their direction, but there was something different about this particular man, he seemed almost…concerned.
Swearing inwardly, Bella Donna watched as the man abandoned his seat in the corner and headed in their direction. She wasn’t entirely sure that the man wasn’t interested in sex and didn’t want to have to put Remy through any more today, but it would be near impossible to turn this man down if that’s what he wanted; they needed the money too much to be able to do that.
Noting the look of apprehension on Bella Donna’s face, Remy steeled himself for whoever it was that was approaching this time; he hadn’t paid much attention when he’d reentered the bar and hoped it wasn’t someone who wanted to hurt him. Looking up at the sound of footsteps by his side, Remy was surprised to find himself looking at the man he had been looking for earlier in the afternoon.
“Âllo, Monsieur,” Bella Donna said sweetly to Logan, “You interested in a good time?”
“Nope, sorry. I don’t fuck kids,” Logan growled, giving the boy a once-over. “The name’s Logan.”
“I’m Bella Donna, this is Remy,” Bella Donna answered hesitantly.
“Nasty bump you got there on your arm, kid,” Logan said, reaching a hand out to touch the boy’s wrist.
Jerking away from the man’s touch, Remy huddled against the wall as Bella Donna attempted to explain his reaction to the startled man. “Je suis désolé, Monsieur. Remy doesn’t like to be touched by men…”
“I’m sorry, kid, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Logan said softly, moving his hand a safe distance from the boy and keeping his posture neutral. It was entirely understandable that the kid would be skittish about being touched with the kind of life he was leading.
Nodding almost imperceptibly, Remy forced himself to calm down. In spite of his fear of being touched, he felt himself drawn to this man, there was just something about him that spoke to the boy; the man looked fierce, that was definitely true, but in a protective way that was undeniably appealing to the battered boy.
“Listen, kids. I don’t want to go sticking my nose in where it doesn’t belong…” Logan started after several moments of silence, “It’s just that I was wondering what a couple of kids your age were doing out on the streets like this…”
“What does it look like, Monsieur?” Bella Donna asked with venom; it was perfectly obvious what they were doing and she didn’t appreciate anyone dragging it out of her.
“Whoa, hold on there, girl. I was just thinking maybe you could use a little help,” Logan said softly, holding his hands up in defeat and turning to look at the boy.
“What kind of help?” Bella Donna asked quietly, sensing that this might be her chance to do something to help her friend.
“Money…a place to stay…” Logan said, watching the boy out of the corner of his eye.
-------
Remy knew where this conversation was going and what Bella Donna was thinking. She wanted him to go with this man, to leave her behind. She wanted to save him, but he couldn’t leave her, he just couldn’t. Reaching a decision, he scrambled to his feet, knocking his chair over in his rush, and grabbed the girl’s arm.
“Allons, Bel. Je veux retourner à la maison.” he pleaded urgently.
“Mais…” the girl protested; this man was offering Remy sanctuary, she couldn’t just leave.
“Allons, s'il te plait,” the boy insisted, real panic in his eyes.
“Mais, mon père…”
“Ca m’est bien égal!!”
Seeing the pain in the boy’s eyes, Bella Donna looked desperately from the panicking boy to the man who had offered her the only hope she’d had in years. She didn’t know which way to turn, either way would hurt Remy and that was the last thing she wanted.
“Je suis désolé, Monsieur. My brother and I have to go home now,” Bella Donna reluctantly said, sapphire eyes brimming with tears and allowing Remy to pull her towards the door.
“Wait! Just wait a minute, okay?” Logan called, rushing to catch them before they left the bar. “Do me a favor, okay? I’m going to give you two some money and if you change your mind you come and find me, okay? I’ll be in town for another couple of days. Here…here’s the address of my hotel.”
“Merci, Monsieur,” Bella Donna whispered softly, taking the money and stuffing it into the pocket of her jacket. If nothing else, it meant that they had made enough money to go home with and for that she was thankful.
-------
Watching the pair leave the bar, Logan shook his head sadly, then turned and walked back to his table in the corner of the bar. He had done what he could and now he could only wait and see what would come of it.
Idly peeling the label from his beer bottle, he stared at the gathering storm clouds in the sky outside and sighed. Something had terrified the boy…Remy…that much was obvious; he had never seen anyone so afraid in his life.
Watching the darkening sky outside, Logan felt an answering echo in his heart.
~ CHAPTER 4 TRANSLATIONS ~
1) Je suis désolé, Remy, je devais le faire. Il m'a donné $100.: I’m sorry, Remy, I had to. He gave me $100.
2) Allons, Bel. Je veux retourner à la maison.: Let’s go, Bel. I want to go home.
3) Allons, s'il te plait.: Please, let’s go.
4) Mais, mon père...: But, my father…
5) Ca m’est bien égal!: I don’t care!
CHAPTER 5
~ Why do we crucify ourselves?
Every day
I crucify myself
Nothing I do is good enough for you
Crucify myself
Every day
And my heart is sick of being in chains ~
It was late, well past two in the morning…well past the time when normal children would be tucked away in their beds, sleeping peacefully. Sitting together in the flickering candlelight of Remy’s shrine, wrapped in the boy’s tattered patchwork quilt, Bella Donna and Remy sat in silence, the calm punctuated only by the boy’s shivering and occasional sniffles.
Remy had been crying for hours, inconsolable at the thought that Bella Donna wanted him to leave. He was miserable, yes, but he was also with her and that simple fact was all that mattered. She was the only comfort he’d ever had in life, he was terrified to be without her.
Bursting into fresh tears, he clung to her, desperate for the comfort of her arms. He knew why she wanted him to go but this was the only life he could remember and to ask him to give up the one person who loved him and to trust a complete stranger, and a man no less, was inconceivable. He couldn’t understand that she only wanted what was best for him, all he knew was that she wanted him to leave, and the pain of that realization was a hundred times worse than any physical pain that had ever been inflicted on him.
“Tu ne m'aimes pas encore?” Remy sobbed, burying his face against the girl’s neck.
“Naturellement je t'aime,” she whispered, pulling the shaking boy tighter against her. “Tu sais que je t'aime..”
“Alors, pourquoi?” the boy whispered brokenly.
“Parce que je ne veux pas que tu souffres encore,” the girl answered softly. She knew Remy understood her reasons, but that he just couldn’t accept it. As hard as this life was on him, the boy clung to it; it was all he had ever known.
“Mais je ne veux pas partir,” Remy insisted petulantly.
“Je sais,” Bella Donna answered patiently, “mais tu dois partir.”
-------
Logan sat with his back against the headboard of the uncomfortable hotel room bed, watching a hockey game on TV with only minimal attention. He couldn’t get the fear on the boy’s face out of his mind…he’d hoped that the boy would change his mind and come find him, but it was far too late at night for there to be much likelihood of that now. All he could do was hold out hope that the kid had put the money he’d given him to good use and had gone somewhere safe.
It was pointless worrying about it, there was nothing more he could do about the situation, no matter how much he wished that weren’t the case. Trying to clear his mind and drive the worry from his mind, Logan closed his eyes and tried to nap.
-------
“Remy, s'il te plait, fais cela pour moi.,” Bella Donna whispered, sitting behind the boy and combing her fingers through his hair, trying to calm him.
“Mais…”
“Pour moi,” the girl said again, more firmly. It was a dirty trick, using his devotion to her to get him to agree to something he didn’t want to do, but it was the only choice she had left. One way or another, she had to save him.
She could see the looked of panicked indecision on Remy’s face; his devotion to her was tearing him apart, he wanted to please her but didn’t want to be without her. It tore her up inside, but she knew she had to do this.
After several long heartbeats the boy appeared to reach a decision, drawing in a shaky breath and forcing a smile onto his face even though Bella Donna could feel that he was still shaking. Meeting the girl’s eyes with a look of determination, Remy nodded almost imperceptibly, unable to actually speak the words.
“Tu ne vas pas m'oublier?” the boy asked softly.
“Jamais,” Bella Donna answered, pulling him into her arms.
-------
Quietly leaving the boy to pack his meager possessions, Bella Donna returned to her own room down the hall. Soundlessly padding across the room, she knelt on the floor by the bed and reached underneath, pulling out a battered shoebox.
Inside were her most prized possessions: a lock of her hair from her first haircut, a picture of her mother, a sapphire ring that had belonged to her grandmother…and a faded photograph of two young children, scarcely more than four years old, one blonde, one dark-haired, smiling into the camera with gap-toothed grins; it was the only picture she had of Remy and herself together and she had guarded it jealously over the years.
Taking the faded photograph from the box and replacing the rest of her treasures underneath the bed, Bella Donna laid it carefully on her writing desk and retrieved a pen from the desk drawer. Thinking for several moments, she turned the photo over and wrote carefully on the back:
“Remy –
Souviens-toi que je t'aime toujours.
– Bella Donna”
Although she knew that her friend couldn’t read it, having never been taught to read or write, she knew that he would someday be able to and never wanted him to forget that she had loved him and only wanted what was best for him. She couldn’t bear the thought that someday, when he was grown and had put all this behind him, he might forget that she loved him. Tears running down her cheeks, she pressed a kiss to the front of the picture before slipping back down the hall to the boy’s room.
-------
Sitting on the floor in the middle of his room, Remy waited for Bella Donna to return, holding the knapsack that held the only possessions he had chosen to bring with him: his crucifix, the contents of his shrine, a rosary Bella Donna had given him a year before and the clothes on his back, the rest of the room’s meager contents held too many bad memories for him and were being left behind.
Hearing her footsteps in the hall, the boy got to his feet, slinging his knapsack over his shoulder and trying to stop the tears that were streaming down his cheeks. He had to be strong, he knew this was as hard on Bella Donna as it was on him and he didn’t want to make it any harder on her than he had to.
-------
Bella Donna walked into Remy’s room slowly, trying to stay strong when all she wanted to do was grab the boy and never let go. Going to the boy’s side, she took his good hand in both of hers and squeezed it tightly then turned it palm up and laid the picture in it. “N'oublie jamais, Remy,” she whispered softly, eyes brimming with tears.
Nodding, unable to speak, Remy turned his gaze to the photo the girl had laid in his hand. It was hard to believe that either one of them had ever been so innocent or so happy, but the proof was in his hand. Unable to hold back his tears any longer, Remy pulled the girl into a fierce hug, heedless of his broken arm. “Je t’aime, Bel.”
“Je t’aime, aussi, Remy. Va t'en, maintenant. Je serai bien..”
“Mais…”
“Va t’en,” the girl whispered again, more forcefully, trying to hide the pain the command caused her.
Nodding sadly, Remy reluctantly released his friend and, placing the photograph Bella Donna had given him in his pocket, padded out the door, too scared to look back.
-------
Logan was snapped out of a restless sleep by a hesitant knock at the door to his hotel room. Glancing at the clock, he swore irritably; it was going on to three in the morning. Getting up from the bed, he padded to the door and opened it, ready to give his visitor hell for waking him up in the middle of the night.
Instead he stood silent for several heartbeats; standing in the hallway outside his door was the boy he had been worrying about less than an hour before, looking scared and worn out, and staring at him with the most beautiful eyes Logan had ever seen. “Come on in, kid,” he finally said, moving aside to let the boy into the room.
Forcing his hesitant feet into the room, Remy stepped over the threshold into the room, careful to stay fairly close to the door. “Merci,” the boy said softly, eyes on his feet.
There were so many questions Logan wanted to ask, so many things he wanted to know, but those would have to wait. What the kid needed right now was a good night’s sleep, and a doctor to look at that arm, but that would have to wait until morning. “You tired, kid…Remy?”
“Oui,” Remy answered softly. There was no point lying about it; even if he denied it, he’d still end up falling asleep and leaving himself vulnerable. And on top of that he had to trust this man; he was putting his life in this stranger’s hands.
“The bed’s all yours, kiddo, go ahead,” Logan said, waving a hand toward the king size bed. “I’ll sleep on the floor,” he added, noting the look of confusion on the boy’s face.
“Merci,” Remy answered with a weak smile, laying his knapsack down and moving to sit down on the bed.
-------
Logan stood by the bed, watching the small figure on the bed sleep. In spite of the boy’s obvious fear, he had fallen asleep almost as soon as he had laid down and was now deeply asleep with his thumb in his mouth, his broken arm stretched out on the bed beside him.
Logan was worried about Remy. As peaceful as the boy looked, his cheeks were flushed and his bangs were damp with sweat and it was clear that the boy was running a fever. Reaching out carefully, he lightly laid the palm of his hand against the boy’s forehead, swearing under his breath at the heat he felt. He was definitely going to have to get the kid to the doctor.
-------
Waking up with a start some hours later, Remy shivered. He could hear Logan’s heavy breathing to his left side, deep and even and calming. He was cold and scared and missed the comfort of Bella Donna’s arms.
Lying for several long moments, shivering, Remy weighed his options and, reaching a decision, scooted off the bed and onto the floor. Carefully, the boy laid down next to his benefactor, lifting the man’s arm and wiggling underneath until he was lying with his back against the man’s chest, closing his eyes with a sigh, hoping he had made the right decision.
-------
Logan was careful not to move even though he had been woken by the boy lifting his arm. He knew the decision had to have been a hard one and didn’t want to scare the boy away. Logan smiled softly as the boy settled back down to sleep, warmed by the heat of Logan’s body.
~ CHAPTER 5 TRANSLATIONS ~
1) Tu ne m'aimes pas encore?: Don’t you love me?
2) Naturellement je t'aime.: Of course I do.
3) Tu sais que je t'aime.: You know I do.
4) Alors, pourquoi?: Then why?
5) Parce que je ne veux pas que tu souffres encore.: Because I don’t want you hurt anymore.
6) Mais je ne veux pas partir.: But I don’t want to go.
7) Je sais, mais tu dois partir.: I know, but you have to.
8) Remy, s'il te plait, fais cela pour moi.: Please, Remy, do it for me.
9) Pour moi.: For me
10) Tu ne vas pas m'oublier? : You won’t forget me?
11) Jamais.: Never
12) Souviens-toi que je t'aime toujours.: Always remember I love you.
13) N'oublie jamais, Remy.: Don’t ever forget, Remy.
14) Va t'en, maintenant. Je serai bien.: Now go. I’ll be fine.
15) Va t’en.: Go.
CHAPTER 6
~ 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 you can 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.
~ CHAPTER 6 TRANSLATIONS ~
1) J'ai mal au bras: My arm hurts.
2) Personne n'est parfait: No one’s perfect.
CHAPTER 7
~ New York – 2000 ~
Logan sighed and stretched as best as he could, trying not to disturb the boy sleeping so blissfully beside him. It was hard to believe that this young man sleeping next to him was the same boy he had taken in a decade before; the same boy he had taught to read and write, to speak English and, most importantly, to trust. The kid had come so far and grown up so much that it was nothing short of amazing. Smiling, Logan stroked his fingers through Remy’s wild bangs, snorting softly at the little whimpers of pleasure the boy made in response.
Logan had been right, the boy was beautiful; wild cinnamon hair, big ruby and ebony eyes, long, dark eyelashes, high cheekbones, pouty lips…the kid was a work of art. The improvement in the boy’s living conditions had apparently had an effect, Logan noted with a smirk; the kid was nearly a foot taller than he was now.
Sexy as hell, too, Logan mused, cock stirring in response. Next to him, Remy stirred with a moan, woken by the rush of desire, nuzzling the other man’s neck. Logan groaned and tipped his head up, giving the boy better access. He hadn’t meant to wake the boy up, but he wasn’t about to complain now that Remy was awake.
Turning the tables, Logan grabbed a handful of the boy’s silky hair and pulled his head away, grinning at the look of frustrated desire on the boy’s beautiful face. “Want something, Rem?”
“You know I do, cher,” Remy whined, cheeks flushed with desire.
Logan grinned in response, flipping the boy onto his back, and moved down to suck at the boy’s hardened nipples, tugging at the steel barbells that pierced them, evidence of the boy’s wild side. Remy moaned in encouragement, letting Logan know that he wanted him to continue.
Sure that this was what the boy wanted, Logan dug through the nightstand drawer, retrieving a bottle of lube and flourishing it with a grin. Remy closed his eyes with a sigh, letting Logan’s desire wash over him, reminding himself that this was Logan he was with and that he was safe.
Logan hesitated, noting Remy’s tenseness, unsure whether he should continue or not. “You alright, kiddo?”
Remy nodded, he didn’t want Logan to stop, he just needed to get his bearings.
“Open your eyes, Rem, look at me,” Logan whispered, stroking the boy’s tearstained cheek. “You want me to stop?”
“No, don’t…I’m fine,” Remy said urgently, eyes wide, afraid that Logan would want to stop.
“You sure?” Logan asked softly, real concern in his eyes.
Remy nodded urgently, he needed this. He needed to be touched, needed to know that he was wanted, he could master his fear. He’d done it before and he could do it this time. He genuinely wanted this and wouldn’t let his fear get the better of him.
“Okay, Rem,” Logan answered, kissing the boy gently on the lips. Opening the lube, Logan squeezed it into his hand, holding the boy’s gaze the entire time. Seeing nothing but desire and determination on Remy’s face, Logan coated his aching cock with the clear gel, grinning as Remy whimpered in response, sharing Logan’s pleasure through their empathic link. “Ready?”
“Oui,” Remy whispered, pulling Logan to him.
Logan steadied the boy’s hips and thrust in slowly, gratified when the boy moaned and arched his hips to meet him, eyes closed and mouth open in a soft “O” of pleasure. Groaning, Logan set a slow, steady pace, encouraged by Remy’s soft cries of pleasure.
It felt incredible, but Logan wanted more; careful to be gentle, Logan unlaced Remy’s fingers from the back of his neck and twined his fingers with the boy’s, pinning Remy’s unresisting hand to the pillow and earning a startled gasp. Seeing the boy’s eyes fly open in a confusion of anxiety and lust, Logan pressed his lips to the boy’s in a gentle kiss, reassuring him, then repeated the gesture with Remy’s other hand, careful to give the boy enough space that he didn’t feel threatened.
Using his increased leverage, Logan thrust deeper, rubbing his belly against Remy’s straining cock and making the boy cry out in startled pleasure. Even after all this time, it still surprised Remy that sex could be pleasurable and he greeted each sensation with a surprised gratitude that made Logan’s heart melt with love for the boy. He’d never met anyone so appreciative of the little pleasures in life before and had never thought that anyone could approach life with such wide-eyed amazement rather than the jaded cynicism that Logan would have expected from someone with Remy’s background.
“Please…more!” Remy cried, squeezing Logan’s fingers tightly.
Groaning raggedly, Logan thrust harder and with less control. Sensing how close the boy was, Logan crushed his lips to Remy’s, silencing him, and thrust deep, earning a muffled scream as the boy climaxed, pulling Logan over the brink with him. Fighting the urge to scream, Logan thrust harder as Remy’s shields slipped and flooded his mind with the boy’s ecstasy.
-------
“I’ve got some work to do, Rem. Don’t stay in bed all day, alright?” Logan asked softly, several minutes later, rubbing the boy’s shoulder.
“Mmm-hmm,” Remy mumbled noncommittally.
“Get some breakfast and I’ll catch up with you later, okay?” Logan said with an amused snort. Knowing Remy, he wouldn’t get out of bed unless the boathouse was on fire and probably not even then.
“Mmm-hmm,” Remy mumbled, pulling the covers over his head with a groan.
Shaking his head with a defeated chuckle, Logan headed out of the room; he had a lot of work that needed doing and no matter how tempting it was to climb into bed and sleep the day away like Remy, he couldn’t.
-------
Remy sat on the couch in the mansion’s rec room, idly watching cartoons on TV and eating breakfast in spite of the fact that it was well past noon. He hadn’t wanted to get out of bed, but hunger had gotten the better of him. Hearing footsteps in the hall, he shifted his gaze from the TV to see who was coming in. Rogue. Remy groaned inwardly; he didn’t like the girl. Generally, he loved women and craved their company, but Rogue was different, she was…threatening. She made him uncomfortable.
“Hey, it’s the witchdoctor!” she called cheerfully, sitting down on the arm of the couch.
“Sorry, sugah, didn’t mean ta upset ya,” she continued, seeing the glare Remy shot at her, and laid a consolatory hand on his shoulder.
Remy jerked away from her touch as if burned. “Don’t touch me.”
“Geez, calm down. Ah was just tryin’ ta be nice, that’s all,” Rogue groused, rolling her eyes.
“Don’t…touch…me,” Remy reiterated, eyes blazing with anger.
“Fine!” Rogue snapped, standing up and storming out of the room, muttering under her breath.
Remy listened to her go with mixed relief and fear. He knew he should try and be nice to her, but he just couldn’t. She was too aggressive, too threatening and too pushy. She scared him.
“I’d watch what I said if I were you. You’re only here because Logan feels sorry for you, you’d better be careful or you’ll be out on your ass.”
Remy whipped around to see who it was that was talking, meeting Warren’s ice blue gaze with wide, startled eyes.
“You’re just a charity case…a stray. Logan doesn’t love you, he just feels sorry for you,” Warren spat venomously, glaring at the boy.
“Yes he does,” Remy answered softly, tears starting in his eyes.
“No, he doesn’t. You’re just a whore, that’s all. He’ll get tired of you soon enough.”
“I’m not a whore,” Remy whispered vehemently, cheeks flushed.
“Once a whore, always a whore,” Warren said with a snort of derision.
-------
Warren was taken off-guard by Remy’s first punch; he had never seen the boy show even the slightest hint of aggression before; Remy was gentle to a fault and never so much as stood up for himself. Thrown off balance, Warren stared disbelieving at the boy standing in front of him, unable to comprehend the turn of events, nose dripping blood onto the carpet.
He barely had time to dodge the next blow Remy threw, only avoiding the blow by the scantest of margins. Now that the shock had worn off, Warren was furious. With a snarl of anger, he threw himself at the boy, knocking him to the floor, bloodying Remy’s nose with a savage punch.
Barely thinking, Remy elbowed the older man in the jaw, splattering blood across the carpet. He was beyond thought, lashing out in unthinking anger, furious and scared. He could hear footsteps in the hall, someone running, but he didn’t care; right now all that mattered was the anger he could feel burning deep inside him.
Remy was crying, tears mixing with the blood running from his bloodied nose and split lip. He vaguely registered someone yanking on the collar of his t-shirt, trying to pull him off of Warren and without thinking lashed out, fist connecting with a loud crack.
-------
Swearing, Scott let go of the back of the boy’s t-shirt, holding his hand up to his nose to keep the blood from dripping onto the already spattered carpet; it was obvious he wasn’t going to be able to break this fight up.
*Jean, call Logan and tell him to come down to the rec room and get Remy. Now!*
*What’s wrong?*
*Just do it!*
-------
*Logan, Scott needs you to come down to the rec room and get Remy.*
*What’s wrong, Red?*
*I don’t know, but Scott said to hurry.*
-------
Rushing in the front door, Logan tore down the hallway to the rec room; there had been no mistaking the worry in Jean’s voice.
Almost running into Scott who was just coming out the door of the rec room as he was coming in, Logan stormed into the room and swore under his breath. “What in the hell’s going on?” Logan yelled, rushing over to Remy and pulling the boy off of Warren, pinning his arms to his sides, having to fight to hold onto the boy as he fought and kicked, sobbing loudly.
“I don’t know. I just came in and they were going at it like that,” Scott answered, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Alright. I got him, Slim. You take care of Warren,” Logan growled, dragging Remy into the hallway.
-------
Logan had to fight Remy every step of the way to get him back to the boathouse. The boy was hysterical, fighting and kicking and sobbing uncontrollably and it took everything Logan had to keep him from hurting himself. Shouldering the door open and slamming it shut behind them, Logan dragged Remy into the center of the living room in front of the fireplace and sat him down on the floor, holding the boy’s arms tight against his body as he fought to break free. “Rem, listen to me…listen! What’s wrong?”
“Warren…he said…and…I don’t want you to go!” Remy sobbed, gasping, wiping his bloodied nose on the sleeve of his shirt, leaving a dark red smear and starting the blood flowing again.
“Calm down…come on, Rem…listen to me, okay?” Logan said softly, rocking the boy back and forth slightly. “Now what did he say?”
“Said I was a whore…that you wouldn’t want me anymore…I don’t want you to go! Don’ leave, please!” Remy sobbed, coughing and trying to catch his breath, his nose bleeding heavily onto the front of his shirt.
“Shush. Calm down,” Logan whispered, trying to calm the terrified boy. “I’m gonna let you go, okay? I gotta get something for your nose. Stay here, I’ll be right back.”
Hesitantly loosening his grip on the boy’s arms, Logan swore as Remy immediately broke free from his grip and scrambled onto his knees, pulling his well-worn rosary from the pocket of his jeans, smearing it with blood.
“Deus meus, ex toto corde paenitet me omnium meorum peccatorum, eaque detestor, quia peccando, non solum poenas a Te iuste statutas promeritus sum, sed praesertim quia offendi Te, summum bonum, ac dignum qui super omnia diligaris.” Remy sobbed, clutching his rosary in bloody hands, tears and blood dripping onto his shirt.
Seeing that Remy was going to stay put, Logan let the boy finish his prayers, padding out of the room silently to get a wet washcloth for the boy’s nose.
“Ideo firmiter propono, adiuvante gratia Tua, de cetero me non peccaturum peccandique occasiones proximas fugiturum. Amen.”
Coming back into the room, Logan moved to sit in front of the trembling boy, tipping Remy’s chin up so that he could clean the blood away. “Everything’ll be fine, kiddo. I’m not goin’ anywhere and you’re not either,” Logan whispered, forcing Remy to meet his eyes.
“Don’t leave me, cher. I don’t wanna be alone!” Remy cried softly, tears streaking his cheeks.
“Remy, look at me. I’m not going anywhere,” Logan answered vehemently, “I’m not sending you away.”
“Bel did,” Remy whispered brokenly, breaking into fresh sobs.
“Oh, Rem…you know that wasn’t because she was mad at you. She wanted you safe so she sent you to me. ‘Souviens-toi que je t'aime toujours.’ Remember?” Logan asked, earning a nod from the shaking boy. “I’m always gonna love you, kid, nothing’s going to change that.”
Gently, Logan moved to take the boy in his arms, rocking him back and forth, Remy’s head tucked under his chin.
-------
Logan carefully lifted his head to peek at Remy’s face. The boy had finally quieted down, shushed by the comfort of Logan’s arms, and was now sleeping, his mahogany lashes wet with tears.
Carefully shifting so that he could lift the sleeping boy, Logan stood up and walked to the stairway, taking each step as gently as possible. Reaching the bedroom, Logan laid Remy down on the bed, smiling softly at the whimpered protests the boy made at the loss of contact. Unlacing the boy’s sneakers and pulling them off, Logan carefully covered Remy with the boy’s favorite patchwork quilt and lay down beside him.
“No matter what happens, you’ve got me, Rem. Don’t ever forget that,” Logan whispered softly, wrapping his arm around the boy.
~ CHAPTER 7 TRANSLATIONS ~
1) Deus meus, ex toto corde paenitet me omnium meorum peccatorum, eaque detestor, quia peccando, non solum poenas a Te iuste statutes promeritus sum, sed praesertim quia offendi Te, summum bonum, ac dignum qui super omnia diligaris.
Oh my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee and I detest all my sins because of Thy just punishments, but most of all because they offend Thee, my God, who art all good and deserving of my love.
2) Ideo firmiter propono, adiuvante gratia Tua, de cetero me non peccaturum peccandique occasiones proximas fugiturum.
I firmly resolve, with the help of Thy grace, to sin no more and avoid the near occasions of sin.
~ CHAPTER 7 NOTES ~
1) The Latin prayer is the Actus Contritionis, or the Act of Contrition. It’s typically said after confession as a show of repentance.
CHAPTER 8
~ New York – 2004 ~
Logan’s keen sense of hearing picked up the sound of the piano being skillfully played before he was even halfway to the boathouse; stopping in his tracks, Logan tilted his head to the side, attempting to identify the melody. Something classical with a sad feel to it; he vaguely recognized it as familiar but couldn’t put his finger on it. Smiling softly to himself, he set off again, giving up on identifying the elusive melody.
Reaching the boathouse, Logan quietly let himself in; he didn’t want to announce his presence just yet. Careful to remain quiet, he padded up the stairs, following the melody to its source. Standing quietly in the doorway, Logan stood transfixed and watched Remy play, the boy as yet unaware of his presence.
The last few years had made the boy more beautiful than ever and Logan watched with loving eyes as Remy played, ruby eyes closed, head slightly back, a blissful half-smile on his lips; lost in the music. Logan often wondered who had taught the boy; Remy had already known how when Logan took him in and the boy had never mentioned who it was that had taught him to play so beautifully.
The autumn sunlight pouring in through the room’s windows brought out the golden highlights in the boy’s tousled hair and imparted an angelic glow to the boy’s white dress shirt and faded jeans. Perhaps Remy really was an angel, Logan thought with a smile; no mere mortal could possibly be so beautiful or so unfailingly selfless, although his boy was far from pure at the best of times.
-------
Remy sighed blissfully as the song came to an end; the warm sunlight cascading into the room felt wonderful against his face and he felt wonderfully at peace. For the first time in as long as he could remember, the specter of the past no longer bothered him. It too had been put to rest and Remy felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Through death came resurrection and, for the first time in his life, Remy felt free.
“Mornin’, kiddo,” Logan said softly from behind him.
“Mornin’, cher,” Remy answered dreamily, turning to face Logan, surprised to find that he hadn’t been startled by the other man’s greeting.
Logan stood silent in wonder. It was as if everything Logan had come to expect about Remy had changed overnight; he had never seen such a look of complete and utter peace on the boy’s face before. Something had happened, of that Logan was sure, and he felt his heart swell with gratitude for whatever it was that had worked this miracle on the boy he loved so dearly.
“What happened, Rem?” Logan asked softly, hoping that the boy would understand what it was he meant.
“Something big, cher,” Remy answered softly. “Decided it was time to bury the dead and get on with life.”
At a loss for words, Logan tried to figure out what the boy meant. “Rem, what…”
“Shush yourself and listen. Today’s All Souls Day,” Remy interrupted, “an’ I got to thinkin’ that it was time that the past was dead and buried; time for the old Remy to be put to rest, too. It was time to let go, cher, I been holding onto that ghost for too damn long.”
“Rem…” Logan started, tears stinging his eyes.
“Don’t, cher, it was time to let it go; I’m ready.”
-------
Throwing open the door to their bedroom, Logan pulled Remy inside, shedding his shirt as he went. Slamming the door behind him, he pushed Remy up against it, tearing the boy’s shirt open with a growl, sending the buttons flying and making Remy gasp in surprised lust.
Dropping to his knees at Remy’s feet, he swiftly unbuttoned the boy’s pants and rubbed his hand over the rock hard bulge in the silk boxers, earning a deep moan of pleasure. Grinning evilly, Logan bent down to nuzzle at the boy’s aching cock, groaning in surprised pleasure as Remy tangled his fingers in his hair, urging him on.
With a gentle tug on the silk boxers, Logan freed the boy’s straining cock and with one final glance to be sure that he had permission, took the straining member into his mouth, moaning in pleasure as Remy tugged at his hair, forcing him to take more of the rock hard flesh into his mouth.
Moaning deeply, Remy let his head fall back against the door with a thump, fingers tangled tightly in Logan’s wild hair. He never wanted it to stop, but Logan was quickly pushing him to the brink, his cock begging for release. With a frantic whimper, Remy released his hold on Logan’s hair so that the other man could pull away; surprised when Logan caught his wrist and pulled his hand back, firmly replacing it…Logan didn’t want to stop! Crying out in surprised pleasure, Remy couldn’t hold back any longer and bucked eagerly into Logan’s mouth, coming so hard it hurt, screaming ecstatically.
Groaning, Logan sucked eagerly; he loved being able to do this and never wanted it to stop. Remy was usually hesitant at best about letting him suck him off, due to his own bad experiences being on the giving end, but Logan loved everything about it, the taste, the feel, the way Remy screamed his name in ecstasy…his thoughts were derailed by the boy tugging on his hair, wanting him to stand up.
Getting to his feet, Logan was shocked when Remy pulled him into a fiery kiss, fingers tangled in his hair; Remy never behaved so aggressively. Moaning in surprised pleasure, Logan responded enthusiastically, pressing himself against the boy’s hard body and kissing him back with equal ardor, cock throbbing painfully.
“Fuck me, cher…please!” Remy moaned, gasping as Logan sucked at his neck.
If there was ever a demand Logan couldn’t refuse, this was it. Grabbing hold of Remy’s wrist and pulling him toward the bed, eyes blazing with lust. Seeing nothing but need in the boy’s eyes, he roughly pulled Remy’s shirt from his shoulders, tossing it on the floor with a snarl.
Never breaking eye contract, Logan started in on his own pants, stepping out of them with a low growl, loving the way the boy’s breath hitched at the sight of his dripping cock. Pushing the boy roughly onto the bed, Logan stripped Remy’s pants off, mouth watering at the sight of the boy’s straining cock.
“Want somethin’, Rem?” Logan asked, leaning over the panting boy.
“Oui, s’il te plaît…” Remy moaned, scooting further onto the bed.
“That’s my boy,” Logan growled.
Digging in the nightstand, Logan retrieved the lube and slicked his aching cock, never taking his eyes off of the boy. Kneeling on the bed, he settled the boy’s coltish legs over his shoulders, growling low in his throat at needy whimpers Remy made in response. “Ready, Rem?”
“Oui, cher,” Remy whined, hips hitching up reflexively.
Steadying the boy’s hips, Logan thrust, loving the ecstatic cry the boy made as he was taken so forcefully. Capturing the boy’s pouty lips in a demanding kiss, Logan set a hard rhythm, moaning as Remy wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Logan had never seen the boy so uninhibited and it was driving him wild.
“Jerk yourself off,” Logan growled, breaking the kiss.
Eyes wide with surprised lust, Remy complied, releasing his hold on Logan’s neck and taking his straining cock in hand, stroking firmly, eyes falling closed. It felt incredible, but he wanted more. Dropping his shields, he cried out in startled pleasure as Logan’s ecstasy flooded his mind, pushing him dangerously close to the brink.
Not wanting to finish before his lover, Remy opened his mind to Logan, the other man swearing appreciatively as the sensations flooded his mind. Matching his rhythm to the increased speed of Logan’s thrusts, Remy cried out in ecstasy as he came, shooting in hard, throbbing spurts all over his chest and stomach.
Snarling like a wild animal, Logan thrust deep and came, helpless to stop himself as the waves of Remy’s orgasm crashed through his mind, pushing him harder and harder over the brink.
-------
“So you got one of those little dolls that you stick pins in or what?” Rogue teased, ruffling Remy’s bangs in spite of the glare the boy shot at her.
“Non, cherie, but if you keep that up I might have to get one,” Remy shot back with a wicked grin, heading out the back door of the mansion towards the lake.
Settling at the end of the dock, Remy let his feet dangle in the chilly water and watched the setting sun, pulling the sleeves of his ratty flannel shirt down over his hands and crossing his arms across his chest. He liked it in spite of the fact that the elbows were worn entirely through and the colors faded; Logan had given it to him their first day together and he wouldn’t be parted from it, no matter how ratty it became.
“I can’t believe you’re still wearing that ratty old thing,” Logan said with a soft laugh, moving to sit on the dock behind Remy, wrapping his arms around the shivering boy.
“I like it,” Remy answered, leaning back into Logan’s warm embrace with a satisfied sigh.
Snorting, Logan rested his chin on the top of the boy’s head; the kid was going to wear that thing until it fell apart. Watching the setting sun with a light heart, Logan smiled. “So everything’s going to be alright, then?”
“Yeah, I think it is,” Remy answered softly with an answering smile.
END