Saturday morning, Medlab

[x-polarisstar.livejournal.com]

Lorna has more apologies to make and hard facts to face. Remy surprises her but that doesn't make it any easier.

Nothing worth doing is completed in our lifetime,
Therefore, we are saved by hope.
Nothing true or beautiful or good makes complete sense in any immediate context of history;
Therefore, we are saved by faith.
Nothing we do, however virtuous, can be accomplished alone.
Therefore, we are saved by love.
No virtuous act is quite a virtuous from the standpoint of our friend or foe as from our own;



It seemed to Lorna that she spent far too many of her visits to Remy in some state of guilt and contrition. It had never been a sane relationship. Had never been healthy. It wasn't surprising that it had come to this, one of them near death thanks to the other. It was just a surprise that she'd done it to him. Lorna fidgeted nervously outside of Remy's room, no idea how she was going to face him.

But she owed him that much at least.

When there was no response to the knock, she let herself in. LeBeau was sleeping lightly, head sunk to his chest and a book at his side. She'd heard about his ravenous hunger from the doctors, and the food trolley loaded with dishes attributed to the story. She was about to slip out again, avoiding disturbing him and just as importantly, facing him when his eyes flickered open.

One flame red on black eye and another of cloudy banked grey and ruddy brick locked on hers.

"Lorna?"

"Yeah. Sorry." There was an auspicious beginning, apologizing for her presence as much for waking him. She hadn't even come yet to the part where she tried to apologize for what she'd done to him. "May I come in?"

For a girl who'd spent the better part of three months in the hands of enemies, Lorna looked wonderful--beautifully tanned with a healthy glow to her skin. Except for a few scrapes and bruises, she could have been on vacation. Only the look in her eyes gave away her depression. She stayed near the door, willing to leave at his word.

"Mais oui. Please, come in." Remy struggled upright, using his hands to push himself back up against the raised back of the bed where he could rest comfortably. Even after a few days, he still felt weak, as the lines running to his veins attested to.

She came over uncomfortably, not willing to get too close. Remy took a gulp of water to clear his throat and to settle his own nervousness. They hadn't wanted to tell him much, but Betsy had waited until the others had left and filled him in.

Lorna hesitated at the foot of the bed, rather than going to his side as she normally would have. It was probably bad form to be too familiar with someone you'd tried very hard to kill.

"They said that Amanda saved your life." Not that they'd wanted to tell her, really, when she'd pressed for details. Lorna's rage at Amanda's methods was understandably muted by the fact that it was her fault Amanda had to do it in the first place.

"Dat femme seems to have a thing for pulling us up out of de grave." Remy smiled lightly, shaking his head. "Going to have to talk to her 'bout dat. Surprised dat she didn't end up in de bed beside me."

Betsy had given him a few details about Amanda, but the rules from above had been not to tell him the whole story until he was more stable. Obviously, Remy hadn't picked up on something being wrong, a sure sign of the toll that the injury and the healing had taken on him.

Lorna made a noncommittal noise, unable to comment on what Amanda had done, given that it was her fault that it had had to be done in the first place. She remembered all too vividly what Remy had looked like when she was through. Even blunted by Malice, it had made her ill. "I don't think that was ever a danger," Lorna said finally. This wasn't what she'd expected when she'd come down here. "Why aren't you angry with me?"

"Dere a reason dat I should be?" Remy said softly, watching her gaze settle everywhere but on him. Ever since Jean's responses had settled the heartsick worry about her, the larger question of 'what now?' about Lorna had grown in Remy's mind. He'd discovered the details about Malice, which had merited a grim ironic smile from him. He'd figured out everything but the last detail, which is what had failed him. More so, in that warehouse, it had been Lorna in a sense he couldn't quite define.

Lorna gaped at him, unable to believe he'd really just asked that. "Remy, I nearly killed you. Would have, if Amanda hadn't been there. And I did it in the harshest way possible. It wasn't quick and easy. I could have been merciful. But I deliberately made you suffer. Even if you don't hate me for that...you can't just forgive it. Not that." What was wrong with people? Jean, Alison, Remy, Nathan...the only one that didn't surprise her was Alex. It wasn't even understanding, it was just forgiveness.

"How much of dat was you?" His voice was still deceptively soft and gentle. It was a tone that she'd heard before, saying that behind the response was where everything lay. There was no hint in the mismatched eyes, no warnings in his uncommonly still hands. Everything about him was in anticipation.

She could save this right now. Take the out that people kept wanting her to take, blame Malice as though Malice was something autonomous. But that wasn't true and after months of lying, Lorna wasn't going to lie again to spare herself pain. "It was all me. Malice...the collar was just a program. It couldn't force me to do things that I wouldn't have anyway. Christ, Remy, what I did to you I've done before in Youra. The only difference was that it was a friend this time. Someone I cared about but not enough to stop." Her hands clenched to fists and pressed to her stomach, her face pale with guilt and grief.

Remy looked at her a long time, silently. When he finally spoke, the casualness of his tone was almost a shock. "De first time dat I went back to New Orleans was in '98. Gambit just killed some German minister, and de Agency wanted me out of de way for a little while. When I go dere, de usual Guild fights were going on, and while I was indulging myself in dem, heard 'bout some creepy swamp baggage named Tante Mattie dat everyone was afraid of."

There was something almost hypnotic about his voice; the calm relation of the tale as if there was a punch line coming. Lorna opened her mouth to say something, about how it didn't matter or how he didn't understand, but the strange light in his red eyes stilled her.

"Now, if dere was one thing dat Gambit liked, chere, was fear. Dis mad ol' witch made everyone dance on a string? Well, dat's something dat I had to check out. So made my way out into de bayou, ready to... I don't know. Talk to her, kill her, replace her; dey all possibilities. Den Remy sets de first foot on her property and all a sudden, I'm marching up to de shack without having any control. And dere's de crazy old bogwitch looking at de big bad assassin without de hint of fear." Remy smiled, grimly enjoying the story.

"All de time, she sitting dere deciding whether to just kill Gambit, or maybe make him into a toad. She could likely do it too. She looks inside my head." Remy tapped his right temple. "Sees all de death, and de cruelty and de things dat Gambit do, and decides not to kill me. Because I did dose things. I liked dose things. But even our own decisions aren't always just our own decisions."

Lorna left the end of the bed and went to his side, upset with him for understanding and not understanding all at the same time. "What part would you like to have been not really me, Remy? All of it? Do you want to pretend that it was the program that kissed you, said she loved you then tried to kill you for spite? You chose to do what was right instead of me. Or were you choosing what was right instead of the program?" She stopped talking, aware that she wasn't making a great deal of sense.

"It was all you, chere. But it wasn't all just you." Remy said. He paused, eyes flickering from her face to the bed sheet and back. "Dat's why you don't get de easy way out with self-hatred, Lorna. I know what you want. You want Remy to hate you. To point to my legs and lay all of dat on you. Say dat I wish you were in dis bed instead of me, or dat I wish I had never gone after you. But dat's not going to happen. Dis didn't happen just so you could decide dat you best throw your life away because of it. I didn't give you up just so you could give up on yourself."

"You should wish it was me. I wish it was me there instead of you. I wish I'd stopped all this before they put the damn collar on. If I'd just…" Lorna stopped and pressed a fist to her mouth, holding her breath so she didn't start to cry. Her shoulder shook from the effort. "I don't understand how you can forgive me. Look at you, look at what I did to you." She reached out, unable to help herself, and touched his cheek lightly. "I nearly killed you."

"Dat's right. You did." Remy nodded. "And if it came down to dat choice again, Remy wouldn't hesitate for a second. It would be easier to just hate you. Point to what happened and say dat you de cause of it all."

He reached up and took her hand in his, drawing her closer to him; his mismatched stare locking with her eyes. "But dat would mean giving up on you, chere. No matter what else you've done, you've never given up on me. Dat matters more den all de pain or de blame in de world."

Letting him draw her in, she sat down on the edge of his bed, doing her best not to jostle him. Her vision of him blurred with tears that she let run down her cheeks as they would, not bothering to stop them. "I'm so sorry, Remy. Christ, I don't even know what to say. You should have given up on me. Do you know what I did to those children?"

"I know." He said simply, having been briefed long before. Her pain was almost a physical thing, radiating out from her. Remy was surprised the telepaths weren't suffering nose bleeds.

"Dere's no way to take it back, either. It going to be in you head de rest of your life." His hand was gentle on hers. "But it's also not de all of you, Lorna. Just like Gambit isn't the all of me."

"How can I ask anyone else to understand that?" Especially when she didn't believe it herself. Lorna lowered her head, hair curtaining her face, choking on a sob. It felt good to cry, something she hadn't done much recently and then only with Alex to keep watch. It was easier most of the time to deaden it all, just take time in increments and try not to think too much. Times like now, when she actually felt safe to cry were few and far between.

"Because you know it's de truth, chere." His hand tightened on hers, giving her an anchor in the emotions roiling in her. In a way, even with Malice, Lorna had once again given him a precious insight into who he really was. He ached for the pain that she was in and would remain in for a long time to come. But she'd sacrificed for him when Gambit had finally been revealed. She was the one that believed in him to find a way past the monster he could be. Now, it was his turn to do the same.

"I don't know. I don't." She scrubbed at her eyes with her free hand, voice thick and breaking. She shoved her hair out of her face. "I've always thought I was…well, a good person at least. Not perfect but…if I can do this to someone I…care about. What happens the next time?"

"I can't answer dat, chere." Remy shook his head. "Could say dat you make sure dere not a next time. Or dat it couldn't happen again. But you right. Dere's a part of you dat is capable of evil things." He put his other hand on her cheek, cradling it. "Dere's also de part of you dat is de good. De person dat knows dat her choices matter. Tante once tell me dat de ones facing de light also cast de darkest shadow."

Lorna managed a half-smile, though there was little amusement in it. "And you listen to her? I can get that kind of wisdom from a fortune cookie." She tilted her head into his touch, eyes closed momentarily. "I did quit the team. I thought that would be the best thing to do since I don't know how much I can unlearn."

"Just 'cause she's crazy doesn't make her wrong, Lorna. As for the rest, I think you likely kidding yourself if you think you going to unlearn. Or just forget. But de skills aren't what's important. You don't become a murderer by learning how to kill." He said softly. "You do it by making the decision to. What you're scared of is yourself, chere."

Lorna nodded, "Yeah. I am. I really am." She drew in a shuddering breath and shook her head. "Remy…I don't know if I can do this. I don't know how to deal with having this in my head."

"I know. Dere's nothing more terrifying den not knowing whether or not you really are a monster. It's hard, and it hurts." Remy pushed himself further up against the headboard, so he could take her by both arms. "But as long as you not willing to just give up, Remy stay wit' you de whole way."

Lorna sniffled again and leaned in, wrapping her arms around him loosely. "I wanted to. I begged Jean to let me die and if I'd had the chance I'd have made sure I never lived to leave Florida." She couldn't tell Alex this. Would never have confessed to him that she'd rather have died than come back to this life. But Remy had always been different.

"Non." Remy's voice hardened, even as he held her. "Doing dat isn't good enough. If you want to make up for all dis, you do it by facing de monster every day and chaining dat fucker to de floor. You prove dat you not her by having de courage to leash it." His arms tightened around her, face coming to rest in her hair. "You trusted me to do it. Remy not 'bout to believe you don't have de strength to do it for yourself."

"I don't know. I'm not really that strong. I…" She sighed and rested her head against his shoulder. "Why didn't you take my offer?" she asked softly, "Back in the warehouse, I mean." She tilted her head back to look up at him without moving away at all.

"You mean 'bout Magneto," Remy swallowed nervously. "Or you mean de offer 'bout you?"

"They were sort of one and the same," she said quietly, without taking her eyes off him. "But mostly the part about me. Why did you say no?"

"Because my Lorna loves Alex. Because I want her, not de lie." He said finally, his voice thick. "Mainly, because I told a girl de night before dat being de person you want to be comes down to a single choice. Gambit would have said yes. Remy wanted to. Dat's de difference."

Lorna nodded, looking away. "I don't know what to do, Remy. Because you're right. I do love Alex and I can't imagine trying to live without him. But…I wasn't lying. Malice was relying on how you felt to convince you but she can't fake what I don't feel. And I don't know what to do about the fact that I love you."

"Dat's not something dat Remy have de answer for. Might be a little biased too." His hands tightened on her for a second and then relaxed. "Sometimes Remy look at you and think his heart going to burst."

He cupped the side of her face and kissed her softly.

There was a still moment; quiet and hanging between them, as soft as a held breath. Remy smiled. "But for us, dis isn't right. Not right now. Maybe not ever. But you know Remy never going to stop loving you, no matter how I can show it. De fact dat you still my friend is more den I would have hoped a year ago. Remy just happy with what you willing to give."

Her eyes shimmered with tears again, lips pressed together to capture the feeling of the kiss. "I wish it was more," she confessed in the barest whisper. "If I could split myself in two…" she stopped and shook her head. "I owe you so much, Remy. And that's got nothing to do with how I feel." She brushed her lips against his cheek. "I'll always be your friend. I'm sorry that's all I can be."

"If dat's true, den you going to promise me dat you going to fight dis, chere. You going to face down what happened and beat it. Remy try to help you do dat." His face twisted into an ironic grin. "And you never know. De day someone drop a really big truck on Alex, all rules go out de window, neh?"

Memory of what she'd told Nate made her shake her head though his joke had been lighthearted. "All the rules indeed." For another moment, she stayed close, reluctant to let him go, knowing that once she walked out of the room everything would have to be as it was and she wouldn't be allowed this. Sighing, she started to pull away, "I should go before the doctors chase me out."

"Oui. Dey get a little protective." There was a pause as she sat up, hands resting palm down on each other's forearms. A long moment stretched out, bodies conveying to each other what words couldn't. Finally, Remy slid his hands down and away, giving her a small smile. "You go find Alex and get some rest, chere. Remy be up to see you soon. Do me a favour and check on 'manda too. Tell her dat Remy see her as soon as she okay, oui?" His voice was husky, emotional.

Lorna nodded, hands closing around the lack of him. "I'll have someone tell her. She's not…I don't think I should be the one to talk to her." She touched his cheek. "You should concentrate on getting better. You spent too much time down here."

"Dat must be why Remy thinking of painting de walls a new colour. Maybe some potted plants, neh?" That earned a smile from her, a little easier this time. "Go. You ruin Remy's psychotic assassin reputation dis way."

"What makes you think that's not what I'm after?" She flashed him a smile as she eased away, then took a minute to ensure that she didn't look too mussed what with all the crying and otherwise. "I'll…see you later." And then she was out the door and gone.

"Course you will, chere." Remy said to the closed door. After a few minutes he picked up the cane and hurled it against the wall. It ricocheted end over end a couple times before rolling to a stop. He had the privacy to grieve, and for the first time since waking up, used it.

After, there would be no time and place for it.