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xp_logsAt the cemetery, Amanda tells Remy she's going to New Orleans. He has his own reasons for telling her to keep away.
Remy sat quietly, ignoring the heat in his long coat. The last time he'd been here, it had been cold; the first real claws of winter sinking into the area. Now the only coolness was a thin wind that ruffled the green grass and the smattering of small wildflowers around the edges of the cemetary walks. He rested his chin on his cane, trying to push Tante's letter and Moira's diagonsis out of his mind as he looked at Charlie's grave.
No snow crunching beneath her feet to give her away this time, but Amanda knew he'd sense her approach, the same as he always did. Freaky spy sixth sense. "I figured you'd be here," she said, not looking at him as she knelt by the grave, putting out her small bunch of flowering herbs in their jar of water. "Thought I'd give you two some alone time." Not to mention she was still turning over what Marie-Ange had told her.
Remy snorted. "You just late is all."
His sudden clarity of speech was a little surprising. Over the last week, he'd been fuzzy and seemingly unsure, as if drowsy all the time. His lack of focus had been commented on, and more than one associate had come up with Remy's dedicated intake of painkillers as the reason.
"Ran into Angie on the way. She had some stuff to tell me." Amanda fussed with the flowers, arranging and re-arranging them to her liking. It felt strange, using magic-related items without casting the spell. "You been out here long?" she asked, finally forcing herself to leave things alone and sitting back on her heels. The grass by the gravesite was lush and green, a spring carpet under her bare legs. "I brought some water if you need it. 'S hot out here."
"Non. Remy fine." He settled himself a little more. He'd been there for several hours at this point, talking to Charlie about his extremely limited future. His options were pretty simple. If he went to New Orleans, he was a dead man. If he didn't, Tante could well be in his place. As well, he'd lose his leg, and the pity and self-loathing that already touched Lorna's eyes when she saw him would grow. He couldn't handle either of those outcomes.
"How's Marie-Ange? She settling in?"
"She's doing all right. Not great, but she's been through the wringer the last month." Amanda reached out, fingers brushing the grass fuzzing Charlie's grave. "Do you remember that thing with her powers back in June?" she asked suddenly.
"Wit' de illusions? Remy heard something 'bout dat. Threw off some of de X-types for a while, I think." LeBeau shook his head. "Didn't seem like dat big a deal." Right now, all he wanted was a handful of pills and a quiet place to rest. But he had a decision to make, and nothing that made things easier was fair.
"Well, they couldn't hurt anyone, at least not physically," Amanda paused, trying to figure out how to put it into words. "Angie saw Charlie. And me. Like we might have been, if he hadn't... if he hadn't died." She kept her eyes focussed on the grave. "We talked about it some. And I realised... I've been blaming myself all this time for not being there for him but in the end? It was what he decided. He made the decision to kill himself, to close off all the options, to stop any chance of someone helping him." Her hands tightened, tugging at the grass stems between her fingers. "I thought I failed him, but he failed himself, really."
"'Bout time." Remy said, still just sitting quietly. He'd watched Amanda burn with assumed guilt, but there wasn't anything that could be done. He understood that the only person to handle that was themselves, just as he had learned. "He ended up making de easy way look hard."
Remy rolled his cane back and forth between his thumb and forefinger, staring at the top. "What de point of being heroes, neh?"
"You can't save everyone. You just do what you can. It's all any of us can do." Amanda looked up at him, finally, make-up smudged from earlier tears but her eyes dry now. "I didn't realise that, back at the school. Fucking near killed myself trying to fix everyone. I pushed myself past the point any reasonable person would have stopped and then when I couldn't handle it any more, I put myself in a place where no-one could have helped me, even if I'd let them. Going to Selene... it was just as stupid as what Charlie did. And just as selfish." She shook her head. "But that's not the point. The point is... I'm helping, yeah. Doing my bit, doing my job. But there's more I could do, if I let myself. If I went back to Tante and talked to her about giving me back the magic, if she would."
"Best you stay 'way from New Orleans for de time, 'manda. It's not safe down dere." Remy said quietly. He'd gotten Tante's letter a few days ago, and after his medical examination with Moira, things had suddenly been made very clear.
If Remy went into the hospital, he'd lose his leg. There was no question of that. Once that happened, Lorna would be unable to handle it. Being around him, with the constant reminder of Malice? Even now, Remy was sure only his refusal to draw attention to his crippling around her allowed her to stand seeing the results of her capture by Magneto. Going down to New Orleans would fulfill his debt to Tante, even though he knew that in his condition, he'd die in the process. It would be easier for them, and it was the right decision for him. He'd borrowed this long of his life from Tante. It was time to give it back.
She raised her eyebrow at his words. Remy was using his 'deadly serious' voice, the deceptively quiet one that brooked no argument. Only... "What's wrong?" she asked, getting to her feet and joining him on the bench. "Has something happened?"
"Guild business. Nothing for you to worry 'bout, but until it settles down, you better off staying away." Remy said, telling just enough of the truth to sound sincere. "We had dis talk de last time we moved down dere, remember? It's not something dat you need to be in de middle of."
"And what about you? Guild business is what you do for Tante, isn't it? Or is she going to take care of it herself?" There was something else here, some undercurrent she wasn't even sure she'd picked up, but she also trusted Remy. He'd never lied to her, not when it came down to it.
"Everything is fine. It all be cleared up in a week or so." Remy smiled thinly. "You should know dat Tante can take care of herself."
"Yeah, sure she can, but..." Amanda tried to shake off the uneasy feeling. "I worry, you know me. She's done a lot for me. So have you. That makes you important to me." She hunched her shoulders a little. "And I know things're bad with your leg and all," she added softly. "It's getting worse, isn't it?"
"It is. But dere's nothing to be done 'bout it, neh?" Remy shrugged, trying to push the thoughts from his head. He was a dead man. He'd say goodbye, but knowing Amanda, she would try and stop him somehow. Better as a shock. They'd get over it quickly. "No need to worry 'bout Remy."
"What about Moira? How did that checkup go?" The thing about working in an office was that Amanda had access to things like phone messages and the like. She knew Moira had been trying to get Remy to come see her and his announcement had been a relief. She also knew that looking at him was almost physically painful sometimes, his injury like a great gaping hole to whatever remained of her magical intuition. "You're popping pills like bloody Tic Tacs - isn't there anything she can do?" she persisted. There had to be something. Lorna didn't appreciate just how bad things were for him, with her jokes about the Matrix and the rest.
"Dere's some treatments. Remy supposed to go back at de end of de month for some surgery. I think dat Moira just likes to cut on me." Remy struggled awkwardly to his feet, popping open his pill bottle and dry swallowing the last of his pills. "Look, I've got to get going."
"Remy..." Amanda reached out and caught his hand in a loose grip - he could easily pull away if he wanted to. "I just hate seeing you like this... you know if there was anything I could do to help, I would, yeah?" It seemed important that he know that. "Anything"
"I know, chere. Dat's de--" Remy's voice suddenly died, the words crumpling in his throat.
Everything went very bright and then very dark.
Remy sat quietly, ignoring the heat in his long coat. The last time he'd been here, it had been cold; the first real claws of winter sinking into the area. Now the only coolness was a thin wind that ruffled the green grass and the smattering of small wildflowers around the edges of the cemetary walks. He rested his chin on his cane, trying to push Tante's letter and Moira's diagonsis out of his mind as he looked at Charlie's grave.
No snow crunching beneath her feet to give her away this time, but Amanda knew he'd sense her approach, the same as he always did. Freaky spy sixth sense. "I figured you'd be here," she said, not looking at him as she knelt by the grave, putting out her small bunch of flowering herbs in their jar of water. "Thought I'd give you two some alone time." Not to mention she was still turning over what Marie-Ange had told her.
Remy snorted. "You just late is all."
His sudden clarity of speech was a little surprising. Over the last week, he'd been fuzzy and seemingly unsure, as if drowsy all the time. His lack of focus had been commented on, and more than one associate had come up with Remy's dedicated intake of painkillers as the reason.
"Ran into Angie on the way. She had some stuff to tell me." Amanda fussed with the flowers, arranging and re-arranging them to her liking. It felt strange, using magic-related items without casting the spell. "You been out here long?" she asked, finally forcing herself to leave things alone and sitting back on her heels. The grass by the gravesite was lush and green, a spring carpet under her bare legs. "I brought some water if you need it. 'S hot out here."
"Non. Remy fine." He settled himself a little more. He'd been there for several hours at this point, talking to Charlie about his extremely limited future. His options were pretty simple. If he went to New Orleans, he was a dead man. If he didn't, Tante could well be in his place. As well, he'd lose his leg, and the pity and self-loathing that already touched Lorna's eyes when she saw him would grow. He couldn't handle either of those outcomes.
"How's Marie-Ange? She settling in?"
"She's doing all right. Not great, but she's been through the wringer the last month." Amanda reached out, fingers brushing the grass fuzzing Charlie's grave. "Do you remember that thing with her powers back in June?" she asked suddenly.
"Wit' de illusions? Remy heard something 'bout dat. Threw off some of de X-types for a while, I think." LeBeau shook his head. "Didn't seem like dat big a deal." Right now, all he wanted was a handful of pills and a quiet place to rest. But he had a decision to make, and nothing that made things easier was fair.
"Well, they couldn't hurt anyone, at least not physically," Amanda paused, trying to figure out how to put it into words. "Angie saw Charlie. And me. Like we might have been, if he hadn't... if he hadn't died." She kept her eyes focussed on the grave. "We talked about it some. And I realised... I've been blaming myself all this time for not being there for him but in the end? It was what he decided. He made the decision to kill himself, to close off all the options, to stop any chance of someone helping him." Her hands tightened, tugging at the grass stems between her fingers. "I thought I failed him, but he failed himself, really."
"'Bout time." Remy said, still just sitting quietly. He'd watched Amanda burn with assumed guilt, but there wasn't anything that could be done. He understood that the only person to handle that was themselves, just as he had learned. "He ended up making de easy way look hard."
Remy rolled his cane back and forth between his thumb and forefinger, staring at the top. "What de point of being heroes, neh?"
"You can't save everyone. You just do what you can. It's all any of us can do." Amanda looked up at him, finally, make-up smudged from earlier tears but her eyes dry now. "I didn't realise that, back at the school. Fucking near killed myself trying to fix everyone. I pushed myself past the point any reasonable person would have stopped and then when I couldn't handle it any more, I put myself in a place where no-one could have helped me, even if I'd let them. Going to Selene... it was just as stupid as what Charlie did. And just as selfish." She shook her head. "But that's not the point. The point is... I'm helping, yeah. Doing my bit, doing my job. But there's more I could do, if I let myself. If I went back to Tante and talked to her about giving me back the magic, if she would."
"Best you stay 'way from New Orleans for de time, 'manda. It's not safe down dere." Remy said quietly. He'd gotten Tante's letter a few days ago, and after his medical examination with Moira, things had suddenly been made very clear.
If Remy went into the hospital, he'd lose his leg. There was no question of that. Once that happened, Lorna would be unable to handle it. Being around him, with the constant reminder of Malice? Even now, Remy was sure only his refusal to draw attention to his crippling around her allowed her to stand seeing the results of her capture by Magneto. Going down to New Orleans would fulfill his debt to Tante, even though he knew that in his condition, he'd die in the process. It would be easier for them, and it was the right decision for him. He'd borrowed this long of his life from Tante. It was time to give it back.
She raised her eyebrow at his words. Remy was using his 'deadly serious' voice, the deceptively quiet one that brooked no argument. Only... "What's wrong?" she asked, getting to her feet and joining him on the bench. "Has something happened?"
"Guild business. Nothing for you to worry 'bout, but until it settles down, you better off staying away." Remy said, telling just enough of the truth to sound sincere. "We had dis talk de last time we moved down dere, remember? It's not something dat you need to be in de middle of."
"And what about you? Guild business is what you do for Tante, isn't it? Or is she going to take care of it herself?" There was something else here, some undercurrent she wasn't even sure she'd picked up, but she also trusted Remy. He'd never lied to her, not when it came down to it.
"Everything is fine. It all be cleared up in a week or so." Remy smiled thinly. "You should know dat Tante can take care of herself."
"Yeah, sure she can, but..." Amanda tried to shake off the uneasy feeling. "I worry, you know me. She's done a lot for me. So have you. That makes you important to me." She hunched her shoulders a little. "And I know things're bad with your leg and all," she added softly. "It's getting worse, isn't it?"
"It is. But dere's nothing to be done 'bout it, neh?" Remy shrugged, trying to push the thoughts from his head. He was a dead man. He'd say goodbye, but knowing Amanda, she would try and stop him somehow. Better as a shock. They'd get over it quickly. "No need to worry 'bout Remy."
"What about Moira? How did that checkup go?" The thing about working in an office was that Amanda had access to things like phone messages and the like. She knew Moira had been trying to get Remy to come see her and his announcement had been a relief. She also knew that looking at him was almost physically painful sometimes, his injury like a great gaping hole to whatever remained of her magical intuition. "You're popping pills like bloody Tic Tacs - isn't there anything she can do?" she persisted. There had to be something. Lorna didn't appreciate just how bad things were for him, with her jokes about the Matrix and the rest.
"Dere's some treatments. Remy supposed to go back at de end of de month for some surgery. I think dat Moira just likes to cut on me." Remy struggled awkwardly to his feet, popping open his pill bottle and dry swallowing the last of his pills. "Look, I've got to get going."
"Remy..." Amanda reached out and caught his hand in a loose grip - he could easily pull away if he wanted to. "I just hate seeing you like this... you know if there was anything I could do to help, I would, yeah?" It seemed important that he know that. "Anything"
"I know, chere. Dat's de--" Remy's voice suddenly died, the words crumpling in his throat.
Everything went very bright and then very dark.
