Live And Learn 1: Kids

by Morgana

Fandom: X-Men

Parings: Remy/Warren.

Warning: This story is definitely Alternate Universe!

It was a cold night out on Bourbon Street. Hustlers were trying to find a john, drug dealers were selling crack; all kind of activity was going on on one of New Orleans' most famous streets, but the young boy solely focused on the big and expensive cars driving by, scared and simultaneously hoping that one would stop and that the dreaded door would open. Trying to make himself invisible, he stopped. No matter how much he hated doing this, he needed the money to buy the food and a safe place to sleep tonight.

The chilly rain was coming down heavy, soaking his clothes and his auburn hair seemed plastered to his face, obscuring part of it. One of the other hustlers accidentally bumped in to him and he quickly stepped away, not looking for any trouble. The older hustler didn't even notice him; he was too busy climbing in to the BMW that had stopped.

Relieved, he sighed. It wasn't his time yet. It was still too early for the perverted johns to openly pick up the youngest kids, but they'd arrive within the next two hours.

"Salut, Remy, what are you doing out here? Didn't I tell you to go to the shelter?" Claudette, a fifteen year old drag queen approached him. "Look, this ain't no place for you to hang around."

"Ai, Claudette, don' worry 'bout me, non. Got seven lives like a cat. I'll be jus' fine." It had taken him some time to figure out why Claude changed to Claudette at night, but he had come to accept the fact that everyone was different and should be respected for the person they were beneath the clothes.

"You're too young, Remy." Claudette sighed and shook her head. "How old are you anyway?"

"Eight, Claudette and I can take care of m'self, d'accord?" Remy shivered, recognizing the black Mercedes that was driving up to him. The driver rolled down the window and ignored the other prostitutes, immediately focusing on him. Shivers continued to torment his little body and involuntarily he backed away from the car.

"Fifty?"

Remy shuddered, hearing the hoarse tone of the driver, but at the same time he felt slightly relieved. Fifty bucks meant that the man only wanted a quick blowjob. "Oui, bien." Making his decision, he smiled saddened at Claudette and then opened the car door, sliding on to the passenger's seat.

"I don't have much time today," said the john. "I have a meeting in one hour and I feel a little tense. I need that talented mouth of yours to relieve that tension." From one of his pockets he uncovered the money and threw in to Remy's lap.

Remy quickly counted the money and tucked it away. Those fifty dollars would buy him several meals and a bed in one of the shelters. "Mais oui, m'sieur." He hated going down on them, but had learned at a young age that it was the only way to make money. Maybe if his parents had still been alive they would have looked after for him, but he was alone and had to take care of himself.

The john drove to a deserted alley and parked the car. Looking expectantly at Remy, he unzipped his slacks. Grinning, he signaled Remy to come closer.

Hiding his nervousness and loathing, Remy did what he had to do to earn those fifty bucks.

###

Warren Worthington the second was cruising New Orleans, pondering the latest addition to his empire. He had just bought one of the most prestigious hotels in New Orleans and he was already looking forward to spending some time in its penthouse. He had thousands of houses all over the world, but no where did it feel like home.

Maybe it was time to spend more time with his son and make up for being so much on the road. Warren was eleven now and getting an attitude like most teenagers did. The main difference however was that Warren was spoiled to the bone. Whatever the boy wanted, he got it from dad and he had decided to put an end to pampering his son. It was about time that Warren realized how tough the real world was and he had been brooding for some time to find a way to peg Warren down a bit.

Hum, had he taken a wrong turn? He didn't recognize this part of town, had never been here before, but... "Shit, it's the red light district." The scarcely clothed women and the provocative way they were moving convinced him to get the hell out of here. Although his wife, Kathryn, had died three years ago, he had never experienced the need to seek out paid love, instead he had buried himself in work, which had resulted in neglecting his son.

"Hey, handsome," one of the prostitutes cooed.

"Beau, come on here, mon cher!"

He was growing warm and flustered and he quickly drove on, hoping to leave this street behind him for once and for all. But instead it got worse. The female prostitutes were replaced by male hustlers, making him feel even more uncomfortable. Realizing he could turn left, he did and wished he hadn't. This was even worse; this was a man made hell. Young kids, mostly boys were staring at him with blank, hopeless eyes. "Shit, no."

Picking up speed, he desperately wanted to leave this sordid place behind, but then... A pair of black and red eyes stared helplessly at him. The boy ducked away in the shadows, apparently hiding from him. Something made him stop the car and he stared at the deserted building the boy had disappeared in. What the hell was he doing? He should be leaving, not getting out of the car, but the memory of those black and red eyes had captivated him. Was the boy a mutant?

He hoped they wouldn't take his car apart while he went after the boy, and he stepped in to the shadows himself, ignoring the whistles and sordid remarks coming from the hustlers on the pavement.

"Boy, where are you?" What possessed him to go after the boy? Was is the loneliness and sheer desperation he had seen in those demon like eyes? Life on the streets was hard enough as it was and the eyes would only make things worse. "Where are you? I don't want to hurt you, but..."

Sudden noise emanated from the floor upstairs and he carefully climbed the rotting stairs, hoping they would hold his weight. "You can come out of hiding. I don't mean you any harm!" But he knew that the boy had no reason to trust him. How many men had gone after him using the same words? There was no way of telling what the boy had been through.

Briefly, he pitied the other kids, still strutting their stuff outside, but he would help them later, fund some shelters, re-homing programs and maybe they could learn some decent job skills.

He managed to climb the stairs and looked about. It was dark in here and he doubted he would find the boy if the child didn't want to be found. Then, suddenly, the black and red eyes flashed in the darkness. Moving toward the boy, he wondered what to say, what to do. "I noticed your eyes. Are you a mutant?" He didn't know if his bluntness would work, but he always preferred the direct approach.

"Go 'way."

Worthington nodded his head; the boy knew he was trapped with no way out. "I want to help."

"I don' need your help!"

He had finally reached the boy and the full moon illuminated the room enough to see the scared expression on the boy's face. Going down on his heels, he hoped the boy felt less threatened by his presence. "What are you doing here?"

"I sleep here..."

Shaking his head, he made his decision. He hadn't planned on taking in a street kid, but the young mutant needed someone to look after him and more importantly, the kid's presence might have a positive influence on Warren. Once Warren realized what a privileged life he led, he might learn some modesty and true understanding of the real world. This kid was just lucky that he had seen the eyes and had gone after him. He could have chosen any other child out there. "What's your name, boy?"

"Remy, m'sieur. What do you want from me?"

The fear in the burning orbs reminded Worthington of where they were and why men came out here in the first place. "That's complicated. Would you like to stay with my son for a while? He's only a few years older than you are and he needs a friend, a companion."

"Your son?"

The disbelief was clear in Remy's voice and again, he understood the boy's hesitation. He uncovered his wallet and showed Remy a picture of his son. "His name's Warren and I'm afraid I spoiled him. He needs a kid brother to look after. I don't mean you any harm, Remy."

The boy gave him an inquisitive look and Remy seemed to make his decision based on what he read in his eyes. "What is it going to be, Remy? Stay here or live with Warren and me? Look about, son, this is no place to sleep, this is no place to live. I'm offering you a place to stay and maybe I'll even fund your education if Warren and you get along." He extended his hand, hoping Remy would accept the offer. "What do you have to lose?"

The boy closed his eyes and Worthington held his breath, wondering why it was so important that Remy said yes. Yes, he was using the boy in a certain way, to teach Warren a lesson, but he wouldn't drop Remy like a hot potato afterwards. He would make sure the boy got a good education and provide him with a home. "Yes?" he added hopefully.

He smiled when Remy placed a trembling hand in his. "I take it that's a yes?"

"Oui, you're right, got rien to lose, dis ain' no place for me..."

"You made the right decision, son. I'm sure Warren and you will get along just fine." He rose to his feet and waited for Remy to join him. "Are you ready to go?"

"Non, wanna get some of my stuff first."

He watched Remy move through the darkness, collecting pieces of paper and some dirty clothes. Later, he would have those rags burned and replaced with clothing that fit his new status of being Warren's new playmate.

Finally Remy returned and they descended the stairs. He opened the car door for Remy to climb inside and noticed that the boy favored the back seat instead of the passenger's seat. Warren always wanted to sit on the passenger's seat, driving him insane with questions and demands.

"Are you comfortable back there?" He closed the door and slipped behind the wheel, ignoring the hustlers coming up to him.

Remy nodded his head once. "Bien."

Observing the boy by looking in the mirror, he found that Remy had pulled up his legs and was peeking at him through half closed eyelids. Now that he finally got a good look at the boy, he noticed the dark rings beneath the alien eyes, the worn clothes, dirty, unwashed hair and Remy was certainly too skinny for his age.

He briefly wondered if he had made the wrong choice by picking up Remy, one of the other boys would have done as well, but it were the alien eyes and the expression in them that urged him in to action. Sighing, he realized that there was no way back.

###

Remy felt dazed and confused, sitting in the back of the car. He still didn't understand why he had gotten in to the car with the stranger; he should have known better after all these years on the streets, but there was something about the man that urged him to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe it was because the man's eyes lacked any evil intensions.

"Where are you takin' me?" He finally found the courage to speak up. Yes, the man had told him about his son, but still, he didn't trust easy.

"Warren and I are staying at a hotel and there shouldn't be a problem to get you an extra room." He cleared his throat. "But I want you to behave and to act respectfully toward me and my son."

Remy frowned. What was it the man really wanted? "I don' understand."

"You don't have to, not yet. When we arrive at the hotel, you're going to take a bath, I'll arrange for some clothes and I guess you're hungry as well."

Remy nodded eagerly. "Oui, c'est vrai." After the john had driven him back, he hadn't had the chance yet to buy some food and he couldn't wait to wash away the scent the man had left on his body. Leaning back, he watched street after street pass by. They were heading for the posh district of New Orleans. "Tell me 'bout your son?" he said eventually when the silence made him nervous.

"His mother died three years ago and Warren has been much alone since. I'm usually away on business and then he stays with my staff during the holidays. Mostly he's at boarding school. I thought that maybe having a kid brother would make him feel less lonely. He doesn't have any friends to play with..."

"He doesn' sound like much fun," Remy couldn't help remark. He didn't like this Warren at all. Maybe he should reconsider and ask the man to take him back to... No, he wasn't going back to Bourbon street. He would play nice and follow this man's directions. He would do everything to get off the streets.

"He's a bit stuck up, but maybe you can change that? You strike me as an intelligent boy."

Remy almost blushed. He had been called many things in his time from whore to demon spawn, but no one had ever told him he was intelligent. Briefly speechless, he stared at the back of the man's head. "What do I call you?"

"My name's Warren Worthington, that's mister Worthington to you."

Remy nodded. "Oui, m'sieur."

"We need to break you from that awful accent. Have you lived here all your life?"

Remy suddenly grew alert. "For de last few years, oui."

"And before that you lived with your parents, I assume?"

Remy shook his head. "Don' know my parents, m'sieur. Dey found me one night at de doorstep of de orphanage." Apparently his parents hadn't been able to deal with having a mutant for a son.

"One more thing. I don't want you to tell Warren where I found you. Let's say I found you through an adoption agency, yes, that sounds logical. I may adopt you officially if things work out."

Remy's eyes widened. "You wanna adopt me?"

"If you play the game and stick to the rules. Be a companion to Warren and we'll see what happens."

Remy was confused and didn't really understand what was happening. One moment he had been giving a john a blowjob and the next a man was offering to adopt him if he befriended his spoiled son. "I'll do my best," he promised, shaking at the idea of being thrown back on the streets again.

###

Warren was bored, deadly bored. He was stretched on his bed, sighing and staring at the wall. His father had grounded him after he had talked back to the older man. No computer games, no TV, no distraction allowed. He was supposed to think his actions over.

It's his fault! He's always away! If mum had still been alive, he would be around more often. Now he was alone most of the time and the fact that he didn't have any friends only made things harder. It's because we're rich. Dad doesn't trust them when they want to play with me, hell, he even forbids me to chat with them! Not everyone's after our money! I hate that money! I hate being rich!

Frustrated, he kicked the mattress hard and punched the pillow. Yeah, sometimes the money came in handy; he could buy everything he wanted, anything except for friendship and honesty. Even some of the staff were trying to gain his favor, hoping it would help them financially, making him feel like he couldn't trust anyone.

A knock on the door caught his attention. "What?" His tone was extremely bitter for an eleven year old.

"Mister Worthington is back and he wants you to come to the living room in ten minutes."

Warren cursed Sally, their housekeeper. She disturbed his miserable mood and he wanted to feel miserable, wallowing in self pity. "I'm grounded, or did he forget? I'm staying here."

The door slowly opened and Sally entered. She was a middle aged woman with short red hair, strong green eyes and she dressed rather conservatively. "Warren, don't anger your father any further. That's a bad idea."

Warren shrugged his shoulders. "It doesn't matter what I do, Sally. He's mad with me anyway. He has been since my mother died." Although he didn't want to admit it, he liked Sally. She was the closest thing to a foster mother he had.

Sally covered the distance to the bed and sat down on its side. "He's a lonely man, Warren, and you're making things worse by behaving badly."

Warren looked away, unwilling to meet her glance. "He makes me so mad!"

"I understand that, but Warren, he doesn't know you and you don't know him very well. You were at boarding school until four weeks ago. Give him a chance to build a relationship with you. He's your father after all."

"I wish I still were at school. I liked it there!" Stubbornly, Warren banged his fist in to the pillow once more. "He doesn't want me around, doesn't love me and that's the truth!"

Sally sighed. "You're just as stubborn as your father... Warren, just meet him in the living room." She got back to her feet again and walked over the to doorway. "Oh, before I forget, your father brought a guest."

Warren raised an eyebrow. "A guest? One of his business partners?" He wasn't sure to be mad or relieved. He wanted to be mad because now he didn't have his father to himself again, and he wanted to be relieved because now someone else could 'entertain' his father and he was off the hook.

"No, a young boy." Sally smiled secretively and then closed the door.

"A young boy?" Feeling curious, Warren sat upright. Rubbing his eyes, he wondered what his dad was up to this time.

###

Remy stared at the muddled water. Luckily mister Worthington had left him alone, trusting him to take care of himself. He wasn't sure he would have been able to stand the man's touch if his savior had decided to help him get clean.

The bath was heaven. He had filled it to the rim and had added bubble bath, letting his sore muscles relax. Living on the streets was tense, had him on an adrenaline rush most of the time and now he could let go. He was alone in the bathroom and he started to doze off, but then the door opened again and he startled fully awake.

"I hope they fit."

Staring at the new, clean clothes, which mister Worthington placed near the bath, his insides convulsed. What if this was a charade after all? What if this Warren didn't exist and this man was merely luring him in to a false sense of safety?

"I also contacted room service and they'll bring something to eat. You'd better hurry up, Remy. My son will be here any minute."

Remy nodded mutely and waited for the man to leave the room. Grabbing the shampoo he thoroughly washed his hair. It had grown long and now reached past his shoulders. Mister Worthington would probably send him for a haircut --if the man was for real.--

He struggled with the mass of water, but finally got to his feet. Carefully, he got out of the bath tub and dried his skin. Next, he inspected the new clothes. Underwear, jeans, socks and a blue sweater. Before slipping in to them he brushed his teeth and rinsed with mouth wash. The salty taste of his john's come clung to his taste buds and he rinsed again, finally ridding himself of the awful sensation.

After combing his hair, he slipped in to the clothes. The jeans were a little too big, but he didn't mind. Wondering why mister Worthington hadn't brought him any shoes, he eventually shrugged his shoulders and stared at the door. Was he supposed to wait here or join mister Worthington in the living room?

Too confused to move, he ended up waiting, counting seconds and eventually minutes. Suddenly there was another knock on the door and he jumped. The door opened and mister Worthington appeared.

"Are you ready?"

Remy gingerly nodded his head and walked toward the older man, growing aware that he didn't really belong in this fancy setting and Warren would probably realize he was scum right away. How did mister Worthington expect him to pull this off?

Mister Worthington sat on his heels and Remy flinched when the older man inspected him. He even checked behind his ears! Shyly, he continued to stare at the floor, wringing his hands behind his back. Did his appearance satisfy his savior? Would he pass the test and would he be allowed to stay?

"You look fine to me, son. Warren's here and I want you two to meet."

Remy finally looked up at the older man. "What do I do?"

"Be polite. Don't bring up your history and stick to our story. I adopted you and you never lived on the streets, remember?"

Remy slowly nodded his head. "I'll try." His stomach convulsed when mister Worthington took his hand, leading him in to the living room. What if he disappointed the man? Would he be selling his ass on Bourbon Street within the hour? He couldn't mess this up. Too much depended on this!

Straightening his shoulders, Remy took a deep breath and raised his eyes to meet Warren's, forgetting that the alien eyes would probably shock the older boy. Remy finally made eye contact with Warren and cringed, seeing the expression in Warren's blue eyes. They were filled with disdain and rejection.

###

Warren privately burst out laughing, but made sure none of his feelings showed on his face. He didn't know where his father was going with this and the best thing was to wait and see. He closely studied the new arrival and raised an eyebrow. He guessed the boy was about seven or eight, the clothes were definitely new but couldn't hide the skinny body beneath them. What disgusted him most were the black and red eyes.

"What's a mutant doing here?" He disliked mutants. Like most people, he feared what he didn't understand and that fear changed in to hate.

The boy flinched, but Warren paid it no attention, instead he locked eyes with his father, who looked strangely fatigued. "When will he leave again?"

Worthington shook his head. "Remy's not leaving, he's staying."

"Why?" Warren stalked closer, no longer hiding his disdain, obviously looking down on the smaller boy.

"I contacted an adoption agency," explained his father, "Having a younger boy around, a brother so to speak, might be good for you."

Warren's eyes flashed with anger. "Dad, you can't be serious! You can't adopt him and I don't want anyone around!" He was mad as hell that his father had decided this without consulting, or even telling him! He disliked Remy instantly and was amused when the boy flinched as if the words physically hurt him. The boy obviously had no self- confidence and it would be easy to pester him in to leaving. His father's empire, the money and companies were his and he wasn't sharing with anyone! What had possessed his dad to take the mutie in?

Worthington's eyes narrowed. "You can throw your temper tantrum in your room, Warren. You're still grounded. I wanted to lift the punishment so you and Remy could get to know each other, but the way you're behaving now is unacceptable." He raised his arm and pointed at Warren's room. "I don't want to see you until tomorrow morning and work on that attitude. Remy's our guest and he's staying."

Realizing defeat, Warren glared at Remy and walked over to his room. "I want him gone!" Warren stared in to his father's eyes. "Do you hear me? I want him gone!"

Worthington remained calm, his eyes telling his son to get in to his room.

Warren slammed the door behind him and flung himself on to the bed. This was going all wrong! How could his father think that he wanted a brother? He was Warren Kenneth Worthington the Third! All he needed was money and people paying him proper respect! A sly grin surfaced on his face. One way or the other, he would find a way to rid himself of the mutie!

###

Remy shook visibly, hearing Warren slam the bedroom door. This wasn't what he had expected their first encounter to be like. Looking up at mister Worthington, he wrung his hands. "M'sieur, does dis mean I'm back on de streets?" He had never had a fair chance to make this work!

"No, Remy. You're staying here. Warren will start behaving if he knows what's good for him." He released a tired sigh. "I should apologize for his behavior. I didn't think he was that arrogant." He lowered himself on to his heels. "I'm sorry, Remy."

Remy simply stared back. "Now what, m'sieur?"

"Now you eat. I can hear your stomach growling from where I stand!"

Remy allowed the older man to lead him to dinner table where several food items had been placed. Peeking at Worthington, he wondered if it was okay to eat some bread, maybe even some cheese.

"Go ahead, Remy, take a seat."

Remy slid on to the chair and stared at the food. Not assuming all the food was his, he waited for the older man to speak again. The mere fragrances were making him dizzy and his mouth watered.

"Eat all you can eat, Remy. I need to make some phone calls and I'll be back in thirty minutes."

"I can eat everyt'in' I want?"

"And as much as you want."

Remy blinked his eyes. Worthington was actually smiling at him. Experimentally, he took a bite out of one sandwich, watching the older man closely. Was it really okay for him to eat all this expensive food?

Worthington smiled, nodded his head and disappeared in to the adjoining room, leaving him alone with all this delicious food. Scared that someone would still take it away from him he grabbed several sandwiches at once and stuffed them in to his mouth. Chewing quickly, he swallowed the divine food and washed it down with OJ.

He paused, deciding on the next thing he was going to eat and attacked the soup. Slurping loudly, he placed the bowl at his lips and emptied it. His stomach suddenly protested and he burped. He had never eaten this much in his entire life before!

The next minutes he busied himself with devouring the crackers and greens and after eating everything on the tray, he rubbed his full belly. Mon Dieu, he couldn't remember even being this full and warm!

"I take it you were hungry?"

The female voice startled Remy, who jumped off the chair. Frantically he searched for a hiding place and ended up making himself as small as possible behind one of the couches.

"Oh no, sweetie, it's all right. I didn't mean to scare you."

Remy gathered his courage and peeked over the couch. "Who are you?"

"My name's Sally, I'm the housekeeper." She walked toward him and smiled reassuringly. "And what's your name?"

"Remy..." Slowly, he pushed himself back to his feet again. She didn't seem evil and he decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. "I'm Remy and m'sieur Worthington brought me here. I ain' no t'ief stealin' food."

Sally nodded once. "He told me he was bringing a guest. I just had no idea you were this young... and hungry."

Remy shuffled his feet, feeling nervous. "M'sieur said he'd be back... What do I do now?" He failed to stop the big yawn that overwhelmed him. First he had taken that warm bath, then he had stuffed his belly and now everything was getting to him. "Sorry..."

"So you're tired as well? I'm sure we'll find you a place to sleep." Sally extended her hand. "It's time to go to bed."

"Don' have a bed," said Remy, confused. "Can I sleep on de couch?"

Sally shook her head. "No, sweetie. Come with me."

Remy stared at her hand, uncertain if he should accept the gesture. In the end, he placed his tiny hand in hers. Realizing he was suddenly putting a lot of trust in people he didn't know, he almost pulled back, but Sally squeezed his hand reassuringly and pulled him along.

Then she opened a door and showed him his new room. "You can sleep in here."

Remy's eyes grew big. The big bed looked incredibly comfortable and soft. "Dat bed's for me?"

"But you can't sleep in your clothes. I doubt we have pajamas in your size, but maybe a T-shirt will do as well?"

Remy felt dazed and hopped on to the bed. It was even softer than he had thought. "Mon Dieu..." Looking up, he suddenly realized that Sally was gone and his panic returned. Maybe something bad would happen now? What if Worthington decided he did like little boys in that way? But no, he had a young son and... Remy's panic doubled for no reason and he almost made a dash for the front door, but then Sally returned with a T-shirt.

"This one should fit you." Sally handed him the shirt. Seeing the panic in his eyes, she frowned, but then dismissed it. "You can lock the door behind me if that makes you more comfortable," she said, instinctively feeling his fear.

"Merci..." Remy averted his eyes, suddenly ashamed of his thoughts. Sally left and he jumped off of the bed to lock the door behind her. Now he felt relatively safe. The big yawns returned and he stumbled back to the bed. He was almost too tired to change in to the T-shirt, but did it anyway, considering Sally had taken the time to find it for him.

Gingerly, he slipped beneath the covers and released a relaxed sigh when the soft mattress hugged him close. He pulled the comforter on top of his body and curled up on his left side. Not knowing what tomorrow held in store for him, he decided to relish this moment.

A moment later his eyes closed.

###

"Sally? Where's the boy?"

Sally looked up from cleaning the dinner table. "He was sleepy and I put him to bed, sir."

Worthington nodded his head. "That's understandable." He sighed and collapsed on the couch. "This is backfiring."

"What is, sir?" Sally walked up to him and remained standing in front of him.

"I thought Warren would like to have a little brother... but no, he wants Remy gone."

"You can't give in to him, sir. You have to put your foot down." Sally studied him. "Warren's struggling as much as you are."

"But he isn't trying in the least!"

"You have to understand where he's coming from," said Sally, compassionately. "He was sent to boarding school one week after his mother died and even during the holidays he didn't get to see you much. He's angry, angry and miserable. Deep down he's hurting, but he's afraid to show it."

He leaned back his head and pushed deeper in to the comfort of the couch. "Sally, sometimes I think I made a huge mistake by telling him to come home. He seemed much happier when he was still at boarding school."

"You can't give up now." Sally was growing impatient. They were both too stubborn for their own good. "What's the deal with Remy?"

"He's staying... at least for now. You're right. I can't give up now. Warren's spoiled rotten."

"I like the boy, but... where does he come from?" Remy's behavior set off her inner alarms.

Worthington didn't want to reveal the truth to her. "I contacted an adoption agency. If this works out, I'll continue to provide for him."

"So his parents are dead?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Probably... or they didn't want a mutant for a son."

"I'll take care of him," promised Sally.

"Good." He got back to his feet and stared at his son's room. "Should I go in there and talk to him?"

"Wait until he's less angry," advised Sally. "Maybe in the morning? You grounded him and you shouldn't give in now. Let him know that there are consequences to his behavior."

"You're right." He wished her goodnight and returned to his study to call a few business partners.

###

A loud knock on the door startled Remy awake. Gasping, he stared at the door, not instantly remembering where he was. Then he recalled mister Worthington and his son Warren. The knocking continued, making him nervous. "Oui?"

"Remy? Do you remember me? It's Sally, the housekeeper. Breakfast's about to be served."

"Breakfast?" Remy frowned. Breakfast? That meant even more food!

"You have fifteen minutes to shower and put on some clothes."

Remy nodded his head, forgetting Sally couldn't see him. "I'll be dere!" He jumped out of the bed and landed on his feet, which quickly took him to the bathroom. His eyes widened, seeing the magnificent bath tub. "Later," he decided. He didn't have the time now. Instead, he jumped in to the shower cabin after throwing the shirt and his underwear on to the floor.

When he still lived on the streets he had showered once, maybe twice a week at the shelter. But the showers usually were dirty there and the hot water used up before he got a chance to step beneath the spray. But this was heaven. Sighing, he watched the water cascade down his body, washing away his shame and his tainted feelings.

Five minutes later, he forced himself to step out of the cabin and to dry his skin. He slipped into his clothes again, not even minding that he was putting on dirty underwear. He had only put it on yesterday! When he had lived on the streets his clothes had gone unwashed for at least one week!

Reaching the door, he unlocked it and hesitantly pushed it ajar. He peeked in to the living room, finding that Sally was serving breakfast. Mister Worthington was already drinking his coffee and reading the newspaper, but there was no sign yet of Warren. Innerly discussing what to do next, he took one step in to the living room, waiting for the older man to address him and tell him what to do.

Looking up from his newspaper Worthington smiled encouragingly and Remy forced himself to take another step. "M'sieur?"

"Hungry again, Remy? Come and join me. How do you like your eggs?"

Shyly, Remy walked up to the table. "My eggs?"

"Bacon and eggs? Sunny side up? Boiled?" Sally smiled and waited for his answer.

"Bacon and eggs? Bacon?" Where they offering him bacon and eggs? He had only had that dish once or twice in his life and he had loved it.

"Bacon and eggs it is then," said Sally and disappeared in to the kitchen.

"Come, take a seat." Worthington pushed a chair toward Remy.

Remy accepted the invitation and climbed on to it. "M'sieur?"

"Did you sleep well? You don't look as spooked as you did yesterday." Worthington sipped his coffee and buttered his toast.

"Oui, slept bien. Bed's soft." Staring at the toast, Remy's stomach began to growl again.

"Here, get started." Worthington placed two slices of toast on Remy's plate.

Remy didn't waste any time and put gigantic amounts of jam on the toast before devouring them. "Where's Warren?"

"He'll join us in a few minutes. I hope he'll behave today." Worthington placed the newspaper aside and studied Remy. "Do you like it here?"

"Oui, m'sieur!" What a dumb question! He had a bed, food and a roof above his head. What was not to like? Okay, maybe Warren!

"You'll have to be patient with Warren," sighed Worthington. "But you don't give up easy, now do you, Remy?"

"Non, m'sieur, don' give up." He was barely paying attention to the older man, too busy chewing and swallowing the toast. Suddenly the delicious fragrances from the kitchen made him move nervously on his chair. He recognized that smell! Bacon!

Sally returned and placed the bacon and eggs on his plate, encouraging him to start eating. Remy quickly glanced at the older man to see if he was allowed to eat it and after Worthington nodded his approval, he dug in.

Remy's head jerked back, hearing Warren's door open. He purposefully avoided staring at the door and ignored Warren as the older boy made his way over to the table. Pretending to be seriously interested in his bacon and eggs, he tried hard not to feel nervous.

Warren sat down on his chair and wordlessly started eating his breakfast.

Remy finally glanced at Warren, and a strange sensation swept through him. It was almost like he shared Warren's misery and he swore that Warren had cried during the night. The blue eyes were swimming.

"Warren?" Worthington looked expectedly at his son.

Warren sighed demonstratively and placed his utensils on the plate, meeting his father's gaze. "Yes?"

"Don't play dumb on me, Warren. You owe Remy an apology."

Remy tried to intervene and stop the older man, but Worthington was determined to make Warren apologize. "Ain' necessary, m'sieur."

"He can't even speak properly," said Warren with an evil grin. "What possessed you to adopt him?"

Worthington's anger was building again. "Warren, I demand you apologize to Remy here."

Warren shrugged his shoulders. "I only spoke the truth. I don't want him around and certainly not someone from an adoption agency."

"Warren..." Worthington slammed the newspaper on to the table. "Now!"

Remy had stopped eating, sensing the power struggle between father and sun. He wasn't sure who'd win and he had no desire to find out. "M'sieur, ain' dat bad..."

But the older man's eyes held Warren's firm and in the end the boy gave in. "I apologize," said Warren without any real commitment.

Remy saw that the older man wasn't really satisfied with the apology and wanted to keep the situation from getting worse. "I accept, Warren. C'est bien." Now that he had accepted the apology, Worthington had to do the same. Warren shot him a diabolical look and he cringed under its intensity. The older boy clearly didn't want him here and he wondered if it was a wise move to stay anyway, but what was the alternative? Going back to Bourbon Street? No, he'd rather endure Warren's nasty attitude.

Worthington realized that Remy had played him, but allowed it, glad to have solved the situation. "Warren, I want you to show Remy around the house. Later, Sally will take you boys shopping. Remy needs new clothes and maybe there are some things you need as well." He looked Warren in the eyes, making sure his son would behave.

"Yes, father." Warren's eyes burned.

Remy swallowed hard and found that his appetite was gone. Warren was going to make his life hell!

###

Warren hated being Remy's tour guide. Why couldn't Sally or one of the other servants show the mutie around? "Down here are the kitchen, two guest rooms and dad's pool room." Raising his hand, he pointed to his right. "But dad's room is off limits to you." The red and black eyes that hesitantly locked with his already showed pain and insecurity. It was only a matter of time before Remy would beg his father to send him back to the adoption agency.

"Sally's room's here and the other servants occupy rooms in this corridor as well. Maybe you can make yourself useful around here." Warren turned left and climbed the stairs back to the living room.

"Are we still in N'Arlings?"

"N'Arlings?" Warren repeated the word, mocking the way Remy pronounced it. "Yes, we are still in New Orleans, but knowing dad we'll be packing and leaving within the next few weeks."

"Why leave?" Remy looked about, feeling distinctly uncomfortable.

"Dad's always traveling from one place to the other. He never stays long." He just hoped that his father would take him with him when he moved to the next city. He didn't want to end up baby sitting the mutie.

"You hate me, why?"

Hearing Remy's blunt question stopped Warren in his tracks. Mocking the younger boy, he laughed. "What do you think? I don't want to share my father with you, nor his money or his power. He's my dad. I don't know what kind of trick you pulled on him, but it won't work on me!" Remy's hurt expression didn't stop his tirade. "You know you don't belong here. You're a mutant! Why don't you just leave me alone?" Warren was getting angry now. "I don't want you here!"

Remy swallowed convulsively, turned and ran. Warren laughed. "Yeah, run, but you can't hide. I'm going to make your life miserable until you leave of your own free will!"

###

Remy unwillingly slammed the door behind him and headed for the bed, sagging down on the soft mattress. Maybe he was wrong and he couldn't deal with Warren's nasty behavior. Maybe staying was the wrong thing to do. Maybe Bourbon Street was his destiny and he should return there.

Warren's hate was palpable and he could even sense it in here, no matter what distance separated them, the hate never left. Why did Warren hate him like that? Warren didn't even know him!

"Remy? It's Sally. Can I come inside?"

Remy quickly wiped away his tears, hoping in vain that his eyes hadn't grown red. He didn't want anyone to know that he had been crying. "Oui, you can come inside." Remy composed himself and got to his feet again. Sally slowly approached him and he read concern in her eyes. "Somet'in' wron'?"

"I'm taking you shopping, did you forget?"

"Don' need to go shoppin'." He didn't plan on staying here when Warren hated him.

"Come on, sweetie, you need clothes."

Realizing that she wouldn't give in, Remy gingerly looked at her. "Is Warren comin' alon'?"

"Oh, is that the problem? I should have known that Warren would try to make your life miserable. No, Warren isn't coming along. It's just you and me. Is that okay?" She gave him a dazzling smile.

"I guess it is..." Remy returned the smile somewhat hesitantly. Seeing Sally's genuine affection for him, he reached out and curled his fingers around hers. He wasn't sure he could deal with Warren's hate, but Sally's affection made it harder to just leave like that. Only time would tell if he could survive Warren's hatred.

###

At the mall, Remy relaxed marginally. Now that Warren wasn't around the tension seeped from his bones and he concentrated on Sally, who dragged him from one store to the next. A few times he tried to tell Sally that he didn't need all this stuff. A pair of jeans, some underwear, shirts and decent shoes were all he craved, but Sally hardly listened.

"Don't be silly, sweetie. Mister Worthington told me to buy anything you might need and we'd better take advantage of that."

Remy resigned himself to her buying frenzy and was relieved when she sat him down in a bistro to get them something to eat and drink. At least she was giving him a small breather!

"What would you like to eat? Sandwiches?"

Remy nodded his head. "Oui, please."

"And what do you want to drink?"

"Juice?" Since tasting the OJ he was developing a fondness for it and who knew how long he would be in the position to drink it? If Warren succeeded in to pestering him out of the Worthington household he would be back on the streets and juice would be the last thing on his mind.

"I'll be back in a moment, now don't wander off, Remy."

Sally left their table, headed for the counter, not minding one bit that this was self service. Remy watched her walk away, then stared at the pile of plastic bags next to him. Mister Worthington would be mad when he learned how much money she had spent on him!

Curiously, his hand found its way in to one of the bags and he fumbled the warm and soft pajamas Sally had bought him. A smile surfaced on his face. Sally seemed to genuinely care about him! That was a first.

"What are you doing here, boy?"

Remy recognized the voice instantly and his body froze. Shaking, he didn't dare look up at the driver of the Mercedes who had paid for his services on a regular basis. He didn't want to see the john, didn't want to be reminded of his life on Bourbon Street and yet here he was!

"Are you here with a customer, Remy? If not, you can earn some money right now."

He still didn't look at the john, focusing on the pajamas and praying that Sally was still at the counter. "Go 'way, I ain' workin' no more. Leave me 'lone."

"Oh, I don't buy that, Remy. Did you find yourself a sugar daddy?"

The man's amused laughter caused shivers to travel down his spine. "Go 'way! I don' want her to see you!" Merde, Sally was making her way back and she had already discovered the man at their table. Remy finally made eye contact and flinched. "Just go 'way!"

The john shrugged. "You know where to find me in case you change your mind. You just missed out on one hundred bucks, boy."

Remy lowered his eyes, thankful that the john had left his table, but had it been in time? How much had Sally heard and would she be able to put all the pieces of the puzzle together?

"Remy, who was that man? I didn't like him." Sally placed the tray on the table and handed Remy his sandwich. "You shouldn't talk to strangers; some of them can't be trusted."

Remy laughed bitterly, then quickly covered his mouth with his hand, realizing Sally was giving him an odd look. "Sorry..."

"Remy, I want the truth." Sally stared at him, not allowing him to pull away. "Why did he say that you missed out on one hundred bucks?"

"Can' tell you." He had promised mister Worthington to keep quiet about his past.

"Remy, you don't have to lie to me. I like you and I want to help, but when you start telling me lies..."

Remy sighed. "M'sieur Worthington will be mad wit' me for tellin' you."

"I can handle mister Worthington," Sally assured him. "Now tell me what's going on."

Remy flinched when she placed her hand on his, soothingly rubbing his knuckles. "I don' come from no adoption agency."

Sally nodded once. "I thought as much. Where do you come from, Remy?"

"I lived on de streets, on Bourbon Street."

"That's no place for a boy your age!" Sally rubbed the tiny fingers, which promptly started to shake. "What were you doing there? Where were your parents?"

"I was tryin' to survive, Sally. Got no parents to take care of me. Needed money to buy food and a place to sleep."

"What?" Sally's jaw dropped. "But Bourbon Street... It's New Orleans' red light district!"

Remy's courage failed him and he couldn't speak the words that would reveal his past as a hustler.

Sally nervously licked her lips. "Remy, what did you do on Bourbon Street?"

"Made money by... by... Older men like young boys and..." Sally's fingers around his tensed and he involuntarily looked up at her. "I'm sorry, didn't wanna..."

"No, don't apologize, sweetie." Sally composed herself again. "I thought something was terrible wrong when you locked your bedroom door last night. The way you looked at me before I left... It's beyond words..." Sally pushed a stray lock behind Remy's ear and held his gaze. "And that man..."

"He's a john, paid me to... You know what dey want, please don' make me say it." Feeling ashamed and embarrassed, he wished the floor would open and swallow him.

Sally sighed deeply. "Remy, does mister Worthington know about this?"

"Oui, he found me on Bourbon Street." Remy wondered why she was still holding his hand and not pushing him away. People didn't like finding out what he had done to survive, calling him a mutant whore instead. "Mais you can' tell him I told you, we made a deal..."

"Sweetie, you need to talk about this. Maybe a counselor can help you work through everything..."

Remy resolutely shook his head. "Don' wanna talk 'bout dis." He wanted to bury it deep inside his soul, never to encounter it again.

"But that won't stop the pain," said Sally, saddened. "But maybe you need time to realize that."

"Can I finish my sandwich now?" Remy desperately wanted to get away from their current topic.

"Sure you can, sweetie, and here's your juice."

The compassionate expression on Sally's face almost made it impossible for him to swallow the bite he had taken out of his sandwich. For the first time in his life it felt like someone really cared about him!

###

Sally suddenly realized that Remy wasn't at her side anymore. They had left the bistro and were heading for the parking lot, and Remy had been close, never letting her out of his sight.

"Remy?" She turned about, searching her surroundings, hoping to locate the boy who had quickly found a way in to her heart. After only a few days she had already started to care deeply about him.

Her agitation vanished when she found him staring at a shopping window featuring stuffed animals. Although Remy was wearing dark glasses to shield him from unfriendly looks, she swore she saw a red gleam beneath the glasses. His hands almost caressed the glass they were pressed against and his fingertips smoothly glided over the glass. He's almost drooling, she thought amused and wondered what had captivated the boy's attention like that.

She made her way over to him and searched the stuffed animals. Which one had drawn his attention or was it the sheer quantity that was taking Remy aback? Now that she knew his history she almost knew for certain that he had never had toys or stuffed animals.

"Remy?" She came to a halt behind him and rested her right hand on his shoulder. "Do you like them?" Remy looked up at her and she distinctly noted the delighted expression on his face.

"Never knew dere are so many of dem..."

His glance drifted away from her and back to the stuffed animals. Sally smiled and quickly decided on a game plan. "Do you like them all or one in particular?" Remy wavered and his glance shifted from the stuffed animals to her and back again. For some elusive reason he seemed intimidated so Sally went down on her heels to be level with him. "Remy?"

"De turtle..." Remy pointed at the brown turtle lying on top of all the other stuffed animals.

Sally's eyes found the stuffed animal and she nodded her head. "He's cute." The turtle was made of all sorts of brown materials, had a small tongue and his eyes were orange and black. "But he's swivel-eyed. It looks like he's staring at its nose." She had to admit that it was the cutest one among the toys.

Remy nodded eagerly. "Cute, oui..." A sigh escaped his lips. Staring at the floor, he suddenly seemed depressed.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" Sally frowned. His mood had been ecstatic, happy, and now he seemed to be fighting his tears. Remy wrapped his skinny arms around his waist and looked awfully lost and alone to her. Determinedly, she got to her feet again, folded one arm around his shoulders and steered him inside.

"What are you doin'?" Remy seemed alarmed, almost trying to break away from her.

Sally guided him toward the pile of toys, took hold of the turtle and placed it in Remy's arms. All resistance suddenly melted away. Remy's arms closed around it and he pressed it close to his chest. He was softly murmuring to the turtle, but she couldn't decipher his words.

She left him standing there, hugging the turtle, walked over to the counter and paid for the toy. When she returned to him, Remy hadn't moved at all. Briefly she wished she could see the expression in his eyes. "He's yours, sweetie. He's a gift, from me to you..."

Remy looked up, mouth agape. "What?"

"He's yours. He needs a name though." She folded her arm around his shoulders once more and they left the toy store.

"Mine? A name?" Stunned, Remy looked up at her.

"Yes, he's yours now, sweetie." She quickly checked the time. "We have to head home now. Dinner will be served in one hour." Studying him, she noticed the stray tear that flowed down Remy's cheek.

###

Warren glared at Sally and Remy while they carried several bags to the boy's room. He felt envious of all the attention Remy was getting from Sally. His father paid her to look after him, not a mutant! And now dad's spending all this money on the little brat. It's not fair. He should be spending time with me and now I have to share him with the mutie. What possessed dad to take in a mutant?

Seated on the couch, pretending to be reading the newspaper's business section, he kept a close eye on Remy, who was dragging a ridiculous looking turtle around with him. Remy seemed unwilling to let go of the toy for even one second. He's a baby, needs a stuffed toy to make him feel safe...

Warren watched the servants set the table, and realized it was almost dinner time. He returned to his room, took a brief shower and changed into clean clothes. Looking his best, he hoped to attract his father's attention. He had even studied the business news and hoped he would impress his dad with his newly found knowledge.

A few minutes later, he walked into the living room again and approached the dinner table. Apparently Remy had changed into his new clothes, wearing jeans which fitted him perfectly and a brown sweater. He had discarded the sun glasses and sat motionless at the dinner table. Looking closely, Warren realized that the turtle was sitting on Remy's lap, almost hidden from view. That's perfect, I can make fun of him for being a baby later, ha!

His dad joined them, seated himself and nodded approvingly as the servants served the food. "Italian?"

"Yes, sir." The servant placed the Italian dish in front of his employer and served the children as well. Leaving the living room, he closed the door behind him.

It was time to play some games. Warren tasted the dish and as his dad seemed to like it, he pretended to approve as well. "The Dow Jones Index has gone up four points today," he remarked, hoping to impress his dad.

Worthington nodded absentmindedly, staring at Remy instead. "Don't you like Italian food, Remy?" Remy was merely staring at the food, not eating it.

"Was waitin' for you to tell me it's bien to start eatin'," whispered Remy, feeling insecure. Warren was giving him dirty looks and he was just waiting for the older boy to make some spiteful remarks.

"Of course you can start eating." Worthington frowned. "You don't need permission to eat, Remy."

"Merci, m'sieur." Remy let go of the turtle to reach for the fork and the toy dropped on to the floor with a soft thud.

"What was that?" Still frowning, Worthington bowed forward and found the turtle on the floor.

"It's his," sneered Warren. "I guess he needs a security blanket. He's still a baby!"

Worthington shot him an irritated glare and Warren quickly shut up; he recognized that expression. His dad wasn't very pleased. He almost apologized, but bit his lip. Involuntarily, he looked at Remy, finding the boy frozen on his chair. Well, at least his remark had hit bull's eye!

"Warren, Remy's a few years younger than you are. It's only normal for him to have toys and stuffed animals, or do I have to remind you of Hoppy?"

Warren flushed. Hoppy...

"Hoppy?" Uncertain if he was allowed to speak, Remy looked from Worthington to Warren. "Hoppy?"

Worthington grinned. "Hoppy was Warren's favorite stuffed animal. It was a huge, white, rabbit with long, fluffy ears."

Warren's flush deepened and he glared at his dinner companions. "Not now," he begged his father.

Worthington shrugged. "It's the truth. You took that rabbit everywhere you went..."

"That was in the past," snapped Warren. "I don't carry it around anymore. I don't even have it anymore!" After realizing what a stupid picture he and the rabbit made, he had asked Sally to destroy it, but at nights when his dad was away he still longed for the fluffy toy. At night he had cuddled it when no one else had cuddled him. He had talked to it, imagining it would answer him, had carried entire conversations with it; it had become a substitute for the parental love he missed so badly.

"Hoppy?" Somehow Remy sensed Warren's longing, his regret that he had thrown the toy away. "I like de name," he offered, trying to show Warren that he didn't hold a grudge against the older boy.

Warren's hands turned into fists beneath the table. The last thing he wanted was Remy's sympathy. He ate in silence, watching his dad closely. Worthington ate in a hasty manner and Warren's heart contracted, already knowing what would follow.

"Son, I need to leave for a short trip to Europe. One of our companies is in trouble and we might have to let some people go."

"When will you be back?" Warren fought the tears that were building in his eyes. He didn't want his dad to leave! Then he would be all alone again!

"I hope within the week." Worthington placed his utensils on the empty plate. "I trust you'll look after Remy when I'm gone."

Warren gritted his teeth, but nodded. He desperately wanted his father's attention and approval. He also noticed the shivers that moved through Remy's body. The mutie wasn't looking forward to spending a week with him alone. He knows I hate him... realized Warren with a shock.

Remy quickly continued eating and Warren leaned back, wondering how much pestering it would take to rid himself of the mutant nuisance.

###

Remy watched Warren say goodbye to his father. In a strange way, he wished he was part of that little scene as well. It would have been great to have a father as well, someone to take care of him and make sure he was fine. However, the look in Warren's eyes puzzled him. It almost looked like hate, desperation, longing, all mixed in to one.

He shivered, trying to shake the ominous feeling. Warren was probably sad because his father was going away, but the older boy had to know how much he was loved and that his father would never desert him.

Dragging his turtle with him, he settled on the couch. He distracted himself by trying to think up a name. Charlie, no... Eyeballs, no, that wasn't it either... Fluffy, he liked that one, but it didn't fit the turtle... Mon Dieu, this was harder than he had thought!

He checked it out from all angles, trying to think of a suitable name. Then he noticed the tiny tail...Tails...Yes, that suited the turtle. Tails it was!

"You look ridiculous holding that stuffed animal!"

Warren's sharp tone shook him from his warm, fuzzy feelings and he was pulled back to real life. Holding Tails close, he tried to shield the turtle from Warren's view. It didn't matter to him that Tails wasn't alive, Tails belonged with him and he had to protect it. "I like him..."

Warren shook his head. "You're way too old for that!"

Remy quickly strengthened his hold on Tails when Warren tried to grab the stuffed animal. "Don'! Don' take him 'way from me!" Remy held on tighter, unwilling to give up without a fight first. On the streets he had learned to fight dirty and he wouldn't hesitate to use his knowledge to get away from Warren.

"Warren? Remy? What's going on here?" Sally stepped out from the kitchen and studied them.

"Nothing, Sally."

Warren gave him a dirty look and Remy knew better than to tell on the older boy. "Rien, Sally. Everyt'in's bien."

Sally cocked her head, obviously not believing them, but she disappeared back in to the kitchen nonetheless.

"I don't want you here, mutie. You don't deserve to be here." Warren glared furiously.

Remy flinched; the words carried an almost physical blow and he crawled away from Warren, until he nearly fell of the couch.

"Don't think you can fool me. I know you're only after my dad's money and although he's spending his money on you right now, that doesn't mean you get to keep it. Even that stupid turtle belongs to my dad and not to you!"

The venomous words made Remy nauseous. Looking up at Warren, he wondered what he had done wrong. "Why do you hate me so much?"

"I want you gone. My dad belongs to me and I don't share!" Warren turned on his heels and marched to his room, where he slammed the door shut.

Remy cringed, realizing he wouldn't be here much longer. One way or the other Warren would find a way to get rid of him.

"Remy? I know it's hard to believe, but Warren doesn't mean it that way." Sally had heard the last few words and quickly joined Remy on the couch.

Remy fled in to her arms when she opened them for him and he rested his head against her shoulder. Tails was still in his arms and he rocked the turtle slowly, reassuring himself that at least Sally wanted him here. "Don' believe dat. He really wants me gone." He could see it in Warren's eyes and even more mysteriously, he felt it.

"Warren's mother died a few years ago and his father's away most of the time. He's a very lonely boy and now he feels like he has to compete for his father's attention. He's reacting the only way he knows how. I'm not saying he's right, I think that what he's doing is wrong, but he's angry and afraid." Sally smiled reassuringly. "Feeling any better?"

Remy wiped away the few tears that had managed to escape his eyes. "Feel better when you're 'round, Sally."

"It's good to hear that, Remy. Now, did you eat enough or are you still hungry?"

"I'm stuffed," whispered Remy, grinning. A huge yawn took him by surprise and he smiled apologetically at Sally.

"It's bedtime for you, sweetie." Sally got to her feet and waited for Remy to slide off the couch as well.

Remy allowed her to fuss over him when she took him to his room, but when she started to strip him of his clothes, he backed away from her. "Can do dat on my own! Ain' a baby, even if Warren says so!"

Sally took a step back and watched him. "Change into your pajamas and I'll be back with some hot milk. It'll help you sleep."

She left and Remy used that opportunity to slip into his warm pajamas. He quickly moved beneath the covers and pressed deeply into the mattress. Of course Tails was still in his arms and he arranged the blankets around the turtle.

"Here, sweetie, drink this." Sally sat down on the bed and handed him the mug. "Be careful, it's still hot."

Remy sipped slowly. He found himself smiling, realizing no one else had ever giving him hot milk or stayed to tuck him in. "I like you, Sally," he admitted awkwardly.

"I like you too, young man." Sally took hold of the nearly empty mug and tucked the blankets in around the boy's form. "I hope you'll have some sweet dreams, Remy." She even leaned in closer and placed a kiss on his brow.

Remy closed his eyes, savoring the moment and feeling her affection for him. Hugging Tails closer, he dozed off, the smile never leaving his face.

###

( The turtle's real name is Aura and she features in a 3D animation movie in a park here in Holland, called "The Efteling." I just bought her yesterday.)

###

Remy was sleeping peacefully, but woke when he heard unidentifiable sounds coming from the living room. Not used to having the luxury of his own room, he needed a moment to identify his whereabouts. He pressed deeper in to the mattress and checked the time. It's was three AM, midst of the night. Hugging Tails close, he listened, trying to make sense of the sounds he was hearing. It almost sounded like someone crying. Unable to stay in bed, he pushed back the blankets and tiptoed to the doorway. He pushed the door ajar and peeked into the living room, which was surprising empty, but the muffled sounds were still present.

Remy grabbed the morning robe Sally had bought him, slipped in to it and soundlessly moved to the living room, trying to pinpoint the origin of the sound. It's comin' from Warren's room, mais I can' believe he'd be cryin'...

Remy covered the distance to Warren's room and listened at the door. The sounds were definitely coming from in there! What was he to do now? He tried the door handle and it gave in, the door opened and he peeked inside. Warren's blond hair gave away his whereabouts and Remy concentrated on the older boy crying in bed. He wished he dared reach out and comfort Warren, but he distrusted the older boy who obviously disliked him.

The crying continued and Remy took a step closer toward the bed. It was obvious by now that Warren was sobbing in his sleep. Maybe a nightmare had a tight hold on the older boy? What can I do? I don' even dare gettin' close to him. When he finds me here he'll be mad... But, drawn closer, his feet carried him to the bed until he was standing next to it. Hesitantly, he raised his right hand as something urged him in to action. He had cried himself to sleep countless nights and he couldn't stand back and let Warren be miserable. If only he knew what this was about?

"Hoppy? Hoppy...?"

Remy's eyes widened. Hoppy was the name of Warren's former stuffed animal. Staring at Tails, he realized how safe he felt having it close. Maybe Warren had felt the same way about Hoppy and now missed the toy? Facing a dilemma, he continued to stare at the turtle.

"Hoppy?"

Remy grimaced. Mon Dieu, he had to help, even if it meant giving away Tails. It looked like Warren needed the stuffed animal more than he did. Gently, he slipped the turtle in to Warren's arms, realizing that although the older boy always acted tough he was hurting as well. Sally had told him that Warren wanted his father's love and attention and m'sieur Worthington had left only a few hours ago. Maybe Warren felt abandoned? He knew that feeling only too well.

His grimace changed in to a sad smile when Warren hugged the turtle close, making pleased noises. Too bad they didn't have a second Tails. Now he was going back to bed alone... Head bowed in defeat, Remy left Warren's room, closed the door behind him and returned to his own room, where he listlessly slipped between the covers, wishing he was still holding Tails. He already missed his soft companion.

Reaching for the second pillow, he enfolded it in his arms and pressed it close to his chest. It took him a long time to fall asleep, but in the end he dozed off again.

###

When Warren woke the next morning, something felt off, but he couldn't label the sensation. Still sleepy, he stretched and yawned, trying to chase away the last remnants of sleep. Opening his eyes, he stared at the alarm clock. He had woken just a few minutes before the alarm would go off; his biological clock never failed him. Raising his hand, he reached to switch it off, not eager to hear the annoying alarm. Suddenly, he froze, feeling something warm and soft against his chest. Looking down his eyes grew big, finding Remy's turtle resting against his chest.

"What's this? I can't believe... It can't be! He sneaked in to my room to..." Growing silent, he frowned. Why would the boy leave his stuffed animal behind? Why leave proof behind? The damn alarm echoed through the room and he killed the annoying sound by switching it off. Sitting upright in bed, he stared at the turtle. Why would Remy leave it with him? The boy had seemed very fond of the turtle.

He didn't like this one bit. He didn't know why Remy had left the turtle behind and he wasn't looking forward to finding out. He also had to decide what to do with the turtle. He briefly considered throwing it in the waste basket, but memories of Hoppy stopped him. Although he would never openly admit it, he had loved the stuffed rabbit and missed it. Remy probably felt the same.

"Warren! It's time to get up. Breakfast's in ten!"

"I'm already awake, Sally!" Warren stared at the turtle, then placed it on his bed. First he needed a cold shower to clear his head.

Five minutes later he left the bathroom to get dressed and found that the turtle was still sitting on his bed, staring at him. Now that no one was around, he could admit that the turtle was cute and maybe he would have chosen it as well, had he been a few years younger. Unable to resist temptation, he rubbed behind the stuffed animal's eyes, surprised at the soft touch.

Realizing he had to return it to Remy, he quickly dressed and picked the toy up. "How do I do this? I can't simply walk in to his room and give it to him. I don't want him to think I care..." Thinking everything over, he decided to use Sally for his plan.

He left his room and entered the living room, pleased to find that no one was there. He marched in to the kitchen and sat down. Although the kitchen wasn't as luxurious as the living room, he liked it better. It possessed a nice sense of closeness, intimacy. "Sally?" After calling for her, he sat the turtle on the table and waited for Sally to serve him breakfast.

She blinked, seeing the turtle, but didn't ask about it so Warren decided to take the initiative. "I found it in the living room. Remy probably lost it."

Sally nodded her head, placed his full plate in front of him and looked at him. "Remy will join you in a few minutes. He had a hard time getting out of bed, the poor thing was probably exhausted."

Another sting of jealousy hit Warren. Sally was supposed to worry and fuss over him, not Remy! "He just wants your attention, Sally. You shouldn't pamper him like that!"

Sally smiled saddened. "You don't have to be jealous, Warren. You have a father, you live in luxury and what does Remy have? It wouldn't hurt you to be nice to him. He's a good kid."

Warren shrugged and started eating breakfast. He didn't plan on being nice to Remy, but he did plan on finding out what Remy had been doing in his room late at night!

###

Remy slowly made his way in to the kitchen, letting the scents and fragrances guide his nose. He remained standing at the door, finding that Warren was already eating his breakfast. Seeing Tails sitting on the table made his heart beat faster. Why had Warren brought the turtle here? Shyly, he cleared his throat, hoping Sally was also around. Being alone with Warren was something he wanted to avoid. Suddenly Warren looked up and the expression in the older boy's eyes was unreadable. "Can I come 'side...?"

Warren hesitated and in that same time Sally joined them. "Of course you can, sweetie. Have a seat and I'll bring you breakfast. Is sunny side up okay for you?"

Overwhelmed, Remy sat down and nodded. How she prepared the eggs didn't matter. Just the fact that he could eat another meal was sheer heaven. On the streets he had gone for days without a decent meal. "Bien, Sally."

Before she left to prepare his breakfast she walked over to him and placed Tails on his lap. "Warren found him in the living room. I thought you had it with you when you went asleep last night?"

Busted, Remy thought, slightly upset. He tried to think up a plausible explanation and even looked to Warren for help.

"Maybe he's a sleepwalker?" suggested Warren after finishing his breakfast.

Sally frowned. "Is that it? Remy, do you walk in your sleep?"

Grateful that he had been given a way out, Remy eagerly nodded his head. "Oui, did dat before." He didn't like lying, but this way neither of them would end up embarrassed. He wondered if Warren wanted to address the matter once they were alone. Maybe it was best to make sure they weren't alone then. But suddenly Sally was gone, had disappeared in to the adjoining kitchen. He stared at the table, trying to ignore Warren.

"What were you doing in my room last night? It's off limits to you in case you didn't know that yet. I don't want you in there when I'm asleep."

Remy flinched, and wondered what to say. Should he tell Warren that the older boy had been crying? "I heard sounds."

"Sounds? That doesn't mean you can walk in there."

"You were... havin' a nightmare," Remy said in the end. He wasn't sure addressing the crying was a good idea.

"A nightmare?" Warren seemed puzzled momentarily. "And so what? You could have called Sally. You didn't have to go in to my room!"

"You were callin' out for Hoppy," mumbled Remy, barely audible. He caught Warren's sharp intake of breath, betraying the older boy's shock. "So I gave you Tails."

"Tails?" Warren repeated the name in a puzzled tone. "You named him Tails?"

"You named yours Hoppy!" Remy was beginning to feel defensive. "Jus' wanted to help." Peeking at Warren, he realized the expression in the other boy's eyes had changed. It was a mixed sensation of irritation and disbelief.

"Don't do it ever again. Don't you dare ever entering my room without permission first."

Remy nodded his head. "Bien." He wasn't going to fight over this. "I won' do it 'gain." But could he really let Warren sob in his sleep?

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," said Warren. "Don't mention it to Sally or my dad when he gets back."

"Bien, will keep quiet..." Remy heard footfalls and realized Sally was coming back. "Merci for givin' Tails back to me. Must have lost him when sleepwalkin'." Sally gave him a thoughtful look when she entered, but seemed to buy the explanation. His appetite had left and he stared at the plate miserably. Picking up his knife and fork, he forced himself to start eating.

###

Remy stared at the white haired lady whom Sally introduced as Misses Fischer, their private tutor. Warren was already checking his homework, making sure he had completed all assignments, but Remy felt frozen. The elderly lady stared at him from behind thick glasses which balanced precariously on her nose. Her black/grey clothes made her even older and more authoritative.

"Mister Worthington told me I had a new pupil, but I had no idea you're this young." She studied him and seemed displeased with what she found. "Sit down and open your grammar book on page 1. Start reading and try to solve the first exercise. In the meantime I'll have a look at Warren's work."

Remy collapsed on the chair and stared helplessly at the thick book in front of him. His hands shook and cold sweat erupted over his entire body. Was there a way out of this? Suddenly he felt Warren's eyes on him, and he froze. Mon Dieu, don' let him realize what's happenin'.

"He can't read!" Warren laughed triumphantly. "He can't read or write!"

Remy cringed, wishing the floor would open and swallow him. He had seldom felt this humiliated before! He briefly considered getting defensive, but he would gain little or nothing, only irritate Warren further.

"Is that true, Remy?" asked Misses Fischer. "Is it true what Warren says? You can't read or write?"

Depressed, Remy nodded his head. "C'est vrai. I never learned how to read or write. No one ever taught me."

A smile appeared on Misses Fischer's face. "Ah, but you speak French?"

"Lived in N'arlings my entire life, oui." Feeling miserable, Remy stared at the dancing forms on the white paper in front of him. Discouraged, he closed the book and started to get to his feet.

"Where do you think you're going, Remy?" Misses Fischer stopped him, signaled him to sit down again and placed a different book in front of him. "Look it through and then I want you to tell me in your best French what you saw."

His heart pounded fearing another failure, but Remy opened the book as ordered. He sighed relieved, finding only pictures in the book. "Oui, can do dat, I t'ink."

"Good boy." Misses Fischer concentrated on Warren's assignments once more and gave Remy some time to recompose himself.

Remy caught Warren's look and sensed the older boy's disappointment. Warren had probably hoped that Misses Fischer would make fun of him for being illiterate! Warren would never accept him... Remy sighed, studied the pictures and tried to lock out Warren's dislike of him.

###

As the days passed by, Warren's pestering grew worse. Remy found the door slammed in his face, Warren trying to manipulate Sally and Misses Fischer and he grew discouraged, realizing he was fighting a lost battle. Sooner or later Warren would succeed in chasing him away and then he would be back on the streets again. So he tried to save the little money Sally gave him to buy sweets or other things he fancied. The five weekly dollars disappeared under his pillow and other items found their way in to his room as well; canned food that would still be eatable in a few days, shampoo, shower gel, the occasional towel. Everything went under his bed.

Sometimes he suspected that Sally had found the secret supply under his bed, but she didn't say a single word about it and he continued to collect things, carefully hiding them from Warren, who he avoided completely.

Absentmindedly he sat on his bed, wondering how much longer he would be able to bear Warren's pestering when the door opened and Sally stepped inside. He liked her, he really did, and he would greatly miss her once he was back on the streets again. But she was only the housekeeper and Warren and his dad were in charge. There was little she could do to improve his personal situation.

"Salut, Sally." He smiled, trying to make her believe that everything was all right.

"Remy..." said Sally, sighing. She sat down beside him and tried to catch his glance. "You don't look happy."

Remy shrugged his shoulders. "Why are you here?"

"Mister Worthington will return home later tonight."

Remy wasn't sure how he felt about that. Maybe Warren would behave with his father close? The opposite could happen as well: Warren could double his efforts to get rid of him to have his father to himself. Sally's right hand settled on his head and stroked his hair. Looking up at her, he wished he could stay. He would have loved having her for his mother, but that would never happen. "Merci for tellin' me, Sally."

"You're welcome, sweetie. I'll call you when he wants to talk to you." Sally got to her feet after gently squeezing his shoulder.

Feeling miserable, Remy stared at the floor after she was gone. He should take inventory of the things he had managed to collect; be prepared in case he had to leave in a hurry. His instincts told him that Warren wouldn't rest before he was out of the picture.

###

"Dad! You're back! I didn't think you'd make it back until tomorrow!" Thrilled, Warren ran toward his dad who opened his arms to catch him. The smile his dad gave him made Warren smile in return. He had really missed his dad. A few weeks ago, when he had still been at boarding school, he hadn't believed he could miss his father this much, only seeing his dad occasionally. Now that his dad was around most of the time, he realized how badly he needed him. He folded his arms around his father's form and held on tight when the older Worthington lifted him. Losing contact with the floor, he grinned, holding on. "You're back!"

"It almost looks like you're happy to see me again!" joked Worthington. "It's only been a week!"

Warren shook his head. "Seemed like an eternity." Mostly because the mutie's still around. I still didn't manage to get rid of him! He savored his father's embrace and hoped it would never end. "Did you bring me a present? You were in Europe, weren't you? London? Paris?"

"London, yes." Worthington opened his brief case and uncovered a gift wrapped package. "Here, this is for you, son."

Excitedly, Warren ripped away the paper and opened the carton box in his hands. A miniature replica of Big Ben appeared and so did a smile on his face. Two years ago he had spend the Christmas holidays in London with his dad when he had been tied up in business meetings and the Big Ben had been his favorite attraction. Back then Sally had taken him on a tour of the capital. "I love it! Thanks, dad!" Embracing his dad again, he finally felt happy, but his father's next words took away all warm feelings.

"Where's Remy?" Worthington looked about, searching for the boy.

Warren gritted his teeth and his fingers grew into claws around the Big Ben miniature. He wanted to tell his dad that the mutie was too scared to meet them, but held back, knowing his dad wouldn't like hearing it. "I don't know," he said eventually, shrugging his shoulders. "Why don't you tell me about your trip instead?"

"No, I want to see Remy first." Worthington frowned. "Did something happen while I was away?"

"Not that I know of," said Warren, pretending innocence. He grabbed his father's left arm and began pulling him toward the couch. "Tell me what happened in London!"

Worthington sighed, gave in, but called for Sally at the same time.

"Yes, sir?" Sally appeared, smiling marginally.

"Where's Remy?" Worthington sat down, momentarily ignoring Warren.

"In his room."

"Please get him. I want to talk to him." Worthington looked at Warren and frowned, seeing the dark expression in his son's eyes.

Warren quickly masked his feelings. He would act his part to make sure that his father didn't get suspicious. "Thanks for the replica of Big Ben. I'll find a special place for it in my room."

Worthington nodded absentmindedly, studying Remy, who shuffled in to the room.

Warren watched everything closely, hoping his dad finally realized how wrong he had been to take in Remy.

"Remy, come over here. I got you something as well."

Warren realized that Remy was stalling, making his way over to them as slowly as possible. Envious, he looked on as his dad uncovered another gift wrapped box, which his dad put in to the mutie's hand. The envy slowly poisoned him. Remy didn't deserve a present from his father! Remy accepted the package and got on his nerves with removing the paper in a tormenting slow pace. Warren was tempted to jump up from the couch, grab the package and get it over with!

Finally the paper was gone, the box open and the present revealed.

"M'sieur? What is it?" Remy looked up at Worthington, obviously confused.

"You give it a little shake," explained Worthington. He placed his hand over Remy's and shook the snow globe. "The little guys inside are guardsmen, they guard the palace and the queen of Britain."

It was obvious that Remy had no idea what his dad was talking about and Warren laughed privately, relishing Remy's confusion. Oh, it would only take him a few more days and then Remy would be gone!

"Merci, m'sieur, mais you don' have to buy me gifts," said Remy, feeling uncomfortable.

"It's just a little souvenir I picked up. Warren always gets something and I just added another one for you." Worthington made a big show out of checking his watch. "It's way past your bedtime, Remy. Sally? Sally! Take the boy to bed." He leaned back and ruffled Warren's hair. "You'd better get some sleep too. Tomorrow I'm taking the two of you sightseeing. You have been here in New Orleans for some weeks, but you haven't seen the city yet."

Warren felt pleased, hearing that his dad wanted to spend tomorrow with him. The only problem was Remy. He didn't want the mutie to spoil his fun. Maybe it was time to make a real effort to get rid of the brat.

###

Remy stared at the snow globe, but then put it on the nightstand, favoring Tails once more. After slipping between the covers he hugged the turtle close, wondering why Worthington had bought him a present. He had seen the venomous look in Warren's eyes and this would only motivate the older boy to be even more awful toward him. Closing his eyes, he wished Worthington had never bought him a present. A stray tear dripped from his cheek and he softly cried himself to sleep.

###

That night Warren decided that he'd had enough. Remy had to go. Now that his father was back, he wanted him to himself and not share him with a kid he couldn't stand. Completely dressed, he left his bed and sneaked toward the doorway. Remy didn't know it, but he had noticed the collection of items under Remy's bed. The kid was stealing from them and no one stopped him! He had considered telling Sally, but the little brat had already wrapped her around his little finger. He only had one option left; he had to take things in to his own hands and he already knew how to rid himself of Remy.

Soundlessly, he sneaked in to his father's study, sat down in the heavy leather chair and opened the drawers. In the bottom drawer he found what he was looking for; his mother's wedding band. After Kathryn's death his father had taken the wedding ring with him and kept it there ever since. He took hold of it and slipped it into his pockets. His dad would be mad as hell, finding the ring gone and then discovering it in Remy's room!

Stage one was complete. Now he had to wait for Remy to leave his room to hide the ring. His dad looked at the ring and a picture of his wife on a daily basis and it wouldn't be long before he discovered the missing item. Warren grinned; this would work!

###

The next morning Warren closely monitored Remy's every move and he finally got his chance to sneak inside the boy's room when Sally called Remy in to the kitchen. Looking about, he searched for the best place to hide the ring. In the end, he opted for the bed. He grinned, finding money under Remy's pillow. The brat had managed to steal fifteen dollars so far! He was tempted to take the money with him, but then Remy would become suspicious. Using a one dollar bill, he wrapped the ring in it and placed it back beneath the pillow. Now it was only a matter of time before his dad threw Remy out of their home!

###

An ominous feeling ate away at Remy. Something was wrong. Warren was being way too nice to him. It almost seemed like the older boy was waiting for something to happen.

"Finish your homework," said Sally, overseeing Remy's awkward writing.

Misses Fischer had taught him the first three letters of the alphabet and had told him to write them down several times. "I'm tryin', Sally." But he wasn't succeeding at all. The letters were barely recognizable. Her hand suddenly covered his and guided him. A shy smile surfaced on his face. "Merci." At times like these life on the streets was only a memory and he couldn't imagine ever going back there. Even though Warren hated his guts, he felt like he had found a home with Sally. It no longer bothered him that she knew his real history and sometimes, late at night, he found her sitting at his bed chasing away the nightmares.

An angry scream made the hair at the back of his neck stand rigid. "Sally?"

"That's mister Worthington. I wonder what happened." Sally looked toward the doorway, wondering if she should check on it.

"No! It can't be gone! It must be here!"

Remy flinched, hearing Worthington's angry tone. What had happened?

"Where's her ring?"

Remy dropped his pen and followed Sally in to the living area, hiding behind her skirt. He grabbed her hand when she offered it to him and he tried to make eye contact with Warren who was watching Discovery Channel, but he quickly averted his eyes, finding Warren's eyes sparkling with amusement and satisfaction.

Worthington stormed into the living room, his eyes angry and he immediately took up pacing.

"Mister Worthington, what's wrong?" Sally let go of Remy's hand and approached her employer.

"Her ring's gone. Kathryn's ring disappeared."

Remy's mind worked quickly, realizing the trap Warren had set up for him. Staring at the older boy, he knew what Warren had done. His cold, sweaty hands revealed his nervousness and he realized there was little he could do. Warren was directing this scene.

"Her ring can't be gone," said Sally, thoughtfully. "Maybe it fell from the drawer and it ended up on the floor?"

"I searched the room, and the floor," said Worthington, still upset. "The ring's not in the study."

"Maybe someone stole it?" Warren hid his smile from Sally and his father when he turned around to smirk at Remy. "I noticed that several things are missing, not just the ring."

Remy held his breath. Wringing his hands, his nails dug in to his skin, but he refused to acknowledge the pain. "I ain' a t'ief!"

"Why don't we check his room?" suggested Warren. "Remy won't mind, if he's being honest. Then he has nothing to hide."

Remy felt the net close around him. He was certain that Warren had hid the ring in his room, but refusing them to search his room equaled a confession and would make him guilty as hell. He really didn't have a choice. His head bowed, he stepped aside to let the grown ups pass by, knowing damn well what they would find.

Sally frowned. "Mister Worthington, I don't think Remy stole the ring."

"There's only one way to find out," snapped Worthington, marching in to Remy's room. He checked the cupboard, drawers, and then moved on to the bed. Looking beneath it, he frowned, finding stuffed bags with shampoo, shower gel, towels, canned foods. "What's this?"

Remy remained silent, knowing he couldn't explain his urge to have an emergency supply close.

Worthington took Remy's silence as a confession of guilt and moved on, lifting the pillow as well. "Money?" He grabbed the dollar bills and suddenly the ring dropped onto the floor with a metallic thud. Everyone stared at the ring and Remy's heart contracted. Briefly, he stared at Warren and saw the older boy's pleased expression. "I didn' steal it..."

But Worthington waved away his words. "I gave you shelter, food, a family and how do you repay me? You steal from me! You could have asked for the money or any of the other things, but no, you go behind my back and steal my late wife's wedding band. You're grounded for now. You're not to leave your room. Sally, clean everything up and make sure it goes back to where it belongs." Angry, he left the room.

Sally, still frowning, looked from Remy to Warren and noticed the pleased grin. "Warren, what did you do?"

Warren shrugged his shoulders and gave her an innocent look. "I didn't do anything. I'm not the mutie, the thief, around here. I'm just glad dad found out in time!" Smirking, he left them standing there.

"I didn' do it," said Remy in a tiny tone. "Oui, I kept de money you gave me to buy sweets wit', mais I didn' steal de ring! I didn' even know it existed!"

Sally sighed. "I believe you, sweetie. This has Warren's handwriting all over it." She cupped his chin in the palm of her hand and lifted his head, making eye contact with him. "I'll talk to mister Worthington."

"Merci, Sally, merci for believin' me." It meant a lot to him that she believed him, but deep in his heart he knew that Warren had already succeeded. Worthington thought he was guilty and he doubted Sally could change that.

###

"Sir, the boy didn't steal the ring," said Sally passionately. "He didn't even know it existed!"

"I wish I could believe you, Sally, but I found the ring under his pillow." Worthington felt disappointed; he had hoped that Remy would use the chance he had been given.

"Or someone put it there," suggested Sally. "Warren's been feeling jealous ever since you brought Remy home."

That got his attention. "Jealous? I thought he'd like having a little brother."

"He doesn't want to share you with anyone," pointed Sally out to him. "He's awful toward the boy when you're not around."

Worthington sighed. "That wasn't the way I planned it. I brought here Remy because I thought Warren was lonely and could use a companion."

Sally licked her lips. "He doesn't come from the adoption agency, does he?"

Startled, Worthington looked up.

"When I took him to the mall one of his former 'customers' addressed him. Remy told me where he lived before you took him in."

"It's true," admitted Worthington. "He was living on the streets when I found him."

"What are you going to do? I'm sure Warren set Remy up. He simply wants Remy gone."

"I don't know what to do. I'll sleep on it." Worthington leaned back in his chair. "What do you think of Remy?"

"I like him a lot. I'm glad you took him in."

Worthington nodded, indicating the conversation had come to an end. "I'll let you know what I decide."

Sally took the hint and left the room, determined to check on Remy before going to bed herself.

###

Remy had tears in his eyes when he picked up the plastic bag, which carried a few clothes. Sally had taken the canned goods back to the kitchen and the toiletries had been removed from his room as well. Grabbing Tails, he squeezed it tightly. His eyes caught sight of the snow globe, but he didn't want or need it, and left it standing on the night stand. Looking down, he felt grateful that his clothes were whole. They would keep out the cold for most of the night. First, he had to find a place to sleep and tomorrow he could worry about making some money.

Sneaking toward the doorway, he pushed down the handle and stepped into the living area. Light shone from Worthington's study and he tiptoed toward the exit. He wasn't welcome here any longer, had never been welcome here in the first place and it was time to accept that. He couldn't fight Warren for the rest of his life; the older boy would never accept him. Leaving was the only option left.

His heart thumped when he closed the door behind him. No more way back. Fighting back his tears, he held on to Tails and descended the stairs. A few minutes later, he stepped on to a deserted street. Merde, he had no idea where he was! This part of New Orleans was unknown to him. Discouraged, he started walking, hanging on to Tails for moral support.

###

Sally's jaw dropped, finding Remy's room empty. "Oh no!" A quick search of the room revealed that the turtle was gone, along with some of the boy's clothes. Angry with herself for not anticipating his move, she stared at the bed. What could she do? She had no idea where Remy was headed! Turning about, she headed back to mister Worthington's study, who she partly blamed for this situation.

He looked up, surprised at her unexpected return. "I said I would talk to you in the morning..."

"Remy's gone. His room's empty and some of his clothes gone." Sally glared at him. "He left because you pronounced him guilty. Where can I find him? I can't stand the thought of him being on the streets, unprotected. He's a child!"

Worthington slowly got to his feet. "Are you sure he's gone?"

"Yes, he even took his favorite toy with him."

"Then we have to look for him." He shivered, recalling how scared and distrusting the boy had been when he had found him. "I might know where he went."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Sally dashed out of the room to collect her coat.

"Dad? What's going on?" Still sleepy, Warren walked in to the study. Using his right hand, he tried to rub the sleep from his eyes.

"Remy's run away," explained his father. "Sally and I are going looking for him."

Warren shrugged. "Why? He probably went back to the adoption agency."

Worthington grew alarmed, hearing Warren's cold tone. Going down on his heels, he took hold of Warren's shoulders and locked eyes with his son. "Listen, Warren. There's no adoption agency. Remy was living on the streets when I found him. He's homeless. Do you have any idea how hard it is for a child his age to survive on his own?"

Warren's eyes narrowed. "Huh?"

"You heard me, son. Remy doesn't have any parents, no one to look after him. When I found him he was... doing horrible things to survive." He couldn't tell his son that Remy had been selling his body to make money; he wasn't sure a boy Warren's age and with his sheltered upbringing would understand. "Remy was in a lot of pain and I wanted to give him a fair chance."

"I don't understand..."

"Warren, Remy's out there, on his own with no money, no shelter and God knows what trouble he already got himself in to. Sally and I have to find him. Now go back to bed and try to sleep. Finding Remy will take some time so don't wait up for us." He guided his son back to his bedroom, put him to bed and tucked him in.

"We'll find Remy, don't worry about that." After switching off the light, he left the room and joined Sally for their search.

###

Dazed, Warren switched the lights back on. He stared at the wall with blank eyes, his brow furrowed and trying to make sense of what his dad had just told him. There was no adoption agency? Remy was a homeless street kid and his dad had taken him in to give him a fair chance? Suddenly, guilt began to claw at him. He had assumed Remy would go back to the agency where they would find him a new family. Now things were different. Now Remy was roaming the streets.

Sitting upright, his hands changed in to fists. His dad might think him ignorant, but he knew what was going on in the world, knew about the seedy sides of life. Via his computer and the net he had access to the entire world and he left the bed, recalling everything he had read on the net. Young runaways, drug addicts and homeless people usually ended up committing crimes to get their money or... the other option was selling their bodies in return for drugs or money.

No, his dad had been lying. No way Remy was an orphan living on the streets. That was a lie! But what if it was true? Then he had sent Remy back in to that seedy world! And why would his dad lie to him? No, it had to be the truth.

Gritting his teeth, he admitted that he still hated the mutie, but he couldn't allow Remy roaming the streets like that. His conscience kicked in and he cursed it loudly. Why couldn't he simply lie down and fall asleep again?

Sighing, he changed into jeans and sweater and called their chauffeur on the phone. Max was surprised to get orders from the young Worthington, but obeyed. A few minutes later, Warren stepped in to their limousine and told Max to head for the seedier part of town.

###

"Remy? Is that you?" Claudette, the transvestite, moved closer toward the boy. "You look better than the last time I saw you... You got new clothes on..."

Remy cringed. Finding a place to sleep had proven impossible. All shelters were full and the good spots in the deserted building already taken. So he was back on the streets again, dragging Tails and his plastic bag with him. "Salut, Claudette."

"Remy, why did you come back?"

"Didn' have a choice, mon ami." He squeezed the bag closer to his body, watching expensive cars drive up to them. "I'm hungry, Claudette, need some money."

"I wish I had some, but... I used it buy crack a few minutes ago," said Claudette, apologetically.

Remy nodded; he knew about the other boy's addiction. His stomach growled angrily and he sighed, staring at the black Mercedes driving up to him. The window was rolled down and he recognized the man. It used to be one of his johns.

"Wanna make a hundred bucks, boy?"

His legs felt strangely heavy as he made his way over to the car. "Oui, m'sieur, need de money." A hundred bucks meant that the john wanted to fuck and his heart beat wildly, dreading the next minutes, but he needed the money to survive...

###

Warren stared at the prostitutes in disbelief. He didn't know there were so many of them! Young, old, fat, thin, bold, dressed in leather or just a string of cloth, they all looked at the limousine, giving him a leering grin. He pushed deeper into the comfort of his seat, almost ordering Max to take him out of here, but he had gotten Remy in this situation and he had to get him out again! This was his responsibility.

"Warren, I don't think your father would want us here. Why don't I take you home?" Max, the middle aged, concerned chauffeur used the mirror to get a good look at his charge. The boy looked spooked.

"No, we're not leaving yet. First we have to find Remy. You know whom I'm talking about?"

"The little boy mister Worthington adopted? Yes, I know him."

"Then look out for him!" Warren's guilty conscience was getting harder to ignore, telling him he was to blame for Remy's predicament.

"Warren? We have a problem..."

"What problem? Shit..." Warren recognized his dad's car and realized that his father had recognized the limousine as well.

Max stopped and parked the car while Worthington made his way over to them. Warren saw the look on his dad's face and knew he was in trouble. He opened the door and his dad sat down next to him, wordlessly. "I want to help," offered Warren. I didn't know he was homeless."

"Warren, son, did you put Kathryn's ring beneath Remy's pillow?"

He shivered. "Yes, I did. I wanted him gone."

"Why?"

"I didn't want to share you with him and I thought he was after our money." Warren's head slumped forward. "I made a mistake."

"A grave mistake." Worthington sighed. "What are you doing here? This isn't a place for a young boy. Max should have stopped you."

"I want to help find him." Warren felt guilty and wanted to make up for his mistake. "I got carried away. I shouldn't have set him up. I was jealous."

"Son, don't you know how much I love you?" Worthington frowned and shook his head. "I know I neglected you since Kathryn died, but it hasn't been exactly easy on me. I'll try to be around more."

Warren managed a smile. "Thanks..." Acting on instinct, he hugged his father, who returned the embrace.

"But that doesn't mean you're off the hook, young man. You manipulated me, played head games with Remy and... What you did was wrong."

"I know that and I accept whatever punishment you think is suitable." Warren smiled through the tears that had escaped his eyes.

"But first we have to find Remy. Sally's worried he doesn't want to be found and if that's the case, finding him might be impossible."

"We won't give up," said Warren. "We'll find him."

"I hope so."

###

"It's useless," sighed Sally. "Remy doesn't want to be found."

They had searched the alley where he had found Remy, and Worthington had to agree. "I'll ask the police to look out for him. How hard can it be to find a boy with his eyes? I'll hire a private detective as well." Seeing Warren's disappointed expression, he felt like he had failed his son. "We'll keep an eye out for him, son."

"Do you think we'll find him?" Warren sounded discouraged. The misery and hopelessness around him was getting to him. "If we don't find him I can never make things up to him. I didn't mean it like that. I didn't know he was homeless."

Sally gently squeezed his shoulder. "We'll continue to search for him, that's all we can do."

The car turned around, taking them away from Bourbon Street. Warren's shoulders slumped forward in defeat. Would he ever get the chance to make things up to Remy?

###

Shivering, and aching inside, Remy left the car and stepped back on to the pavement where Claudette was waiting for him. The hundred dollars were in his hands, and he held on tightly. They would buy him food and a place to sleep. "Merci," he said hoarsely as Claudette handed him Tails and his bag. The john hadn't been gentle, had rushed him and now he was hurting. He could only hope that the bleeding had stopped.

"Remy, you look bad... Let me look at you."

"It's rien." Remy waved the concern away. "Jus' need some sleep."

"You're too young to be doing this..."

"Mais I have no choice!" Remy suddenly burst out sobbing. If only he had been able to befriend Warren, then he would still be living with the Worthingtons. "Dis is my life now, Claudette." Wiping away his tears, he headed for the nearest shelter, hoping a bed had become miraculously available.

Claudette watched Remy leave. The boy was dragging his feet and was obviously hurting. "God, please keep him safe..."

End of Part 1