Logan and Remy - The Hands We're Given

[x-wolverine.livejournal.com]

Logan and Remy have a little chat about Remy and Ororo's extracurricular activities.



Remy had slept late, even for him. Used to only a few hours a night, he'd actually remained asleep for almost twelve hours, awaking around nine o'clock to the sounds of students and teachers moving in the halls. He had pulled on the set of Xavier School sweats that had been left out for him, and walked downstairs. He'd need food soon enough, but instead he'd bypassed the kitchen (in case Lorna was finished up breakfast) and found his old perch out on the back step to sit gingerly and have a cigarette.

The first sign of Logan's presence was the smell of his cheroot. Then the man himself appeared from inside the school to take a seat next to Remy. He didn't say anything initially, instead preferring to take a block of wood and a carving-knife out of a small bag he was carrying.

"You look like shit, Cajun." he said without any condemnation or praise in his voice.

"Dat has something to do wit' de dozen or so people dat spent de last two weeks hitting me." Remy agreed. A look in the mirror this mirror had proved the night had put the last polish on his bruises; livid and deep all over his body. Still, at least after the long shower and Amelia's creative version of bondage she refered to as bandaging, he didn't look completely dead any more.

"Stupid question time - why were you, the former assassin called Gambit, letting a dozen or so people leave their marks all over your skinny ass?" he asked archly, and with amusement. "'Ro don't look much better, and I can't say I like that much."

"Because cyborgs are a lot easier to handle when you have you full powers on. Kinetic charges, spatial sense, enhanced agility... de only power I had 'gainst dem was a crowbar." Remy winced as he shifted. "Takes a lot longer dat way, homme."

That would explain things nicely. "You gone soft, Remy? Got reliant on your powers to save your ass when things got hot?" he asked. "None of my business, really, but that's a nasty habit to be in. Seems you got lucky, learned it in a non-fatal kind of way."

"You won't mind if I'm not exactly all dat worried about it, homme. Cyborgs are supposed to be able to kill normal well-trained people wit' out effort. Alive is enough of a win for me." One of the things that coming out of Gambit had done is strip away any need to defend how he fought. He'd killed too long and in too many ways to worry about what people thought. "Doubt you'll see Stormy in de leathers for a couple of weeks. She got stuck wit' one of her own to deal wit'."

Logan nodded. "Remind me to be nice to 'Ro for a while while she heals." he mused out loud. "Whatever went down, sounds like you had one helluva time. Kinda regret missing it, now." he told Remy.

"Dey killed a house full of homeless infront of us. Couple of students and a cop in a setup riot. Non, you shouldn't regret missing it." Remy said, his voice a little bleak. He knew Logan liked a fight, but this hadn't been such a thing. It was a killing time, senseless and without any honour or challenge. Just death as spread out as they could make it.

"That's an unusual MO." Logan said cautiously. "You know who did it? Maybe it's time to pay them a little special attention. Take your team and go visit a little pain on 'em, let 'em know they've crossed the line."

"De one dat set it up? Dat was payback from him." Remy stopped for a second, lighting another cigarette. "Specifically though, de group I'm most interested in call demselves de Hand, Remy think. Looked like Yakuza types, wit' a little more knife play den de modern ones normally use."

"The Hand." Logan said flatly. "Japanese, right? Rings some vague bells." he said. "Can't give you more than that."

"I never heard of dem either. Some kind of organized crime order." Remy shrugged. "However, going to find out more soon enough. Made a promise to burn de fuck in charge alive."

"You'll need backup." he said flatly. "I'm going."

"I won't say no. If I do dis, it's personal. Not de X-Men or my people." The if was important. Ororo had pulled him back from Gambit in the police station, and ever since then, his mind and emotions were roilled. Maybe a few days in Beaumont-les-Bains would help clear his head.

Logan nodded. He had a lot of thinking to do - the more he thought about it, the more the "Hand" was ringing some kind of bell in the mess that was his head. "And I can take some time if I need it." He nudged Remy in his shoulder. "Way I hear it, you did good. Don't lose sight of that just because you got a burnin' urge to use the shit they crammed into you to put some pain on the animals who did that."

Remy nodded. Logan had been there, seen the elephant in the same sense as Remy had. Both had memories of being monsters, and the marks showed to their own. "Hand is a legitimate concern. They're the only player dat didn't make any real sense. Setting fire to de leader, well... we'll have to see."

Logan just nodded to that. "Heal up, Cajun." he told the wounded man. "When you're back at the top of your game, we'll go hunting." He added a feral, toothy smile to that last, then stood up to head back into the Mansion.