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xp_logsAmanda corners Remy at Finnegan's and talks to him about his foul mood for the past couple of weeks.
It wasn't surprising to see LeBeau sitting alone at a booth in Finnigans. The lanky Cajun had been avoiding most people, including his co-workers, ever since the holidays. His black mood had spilled over, uncharacteristically sharp comments and a distinct lack of patience was rapidly making his company something to be endured during the job, as opposed to sought out. He'd even been avoiding the normal hang outs, preferring to wander the city on his own, seeking out small and dark bars designed to be hidden in.
The fact that he hadn't been out with them earlier and his absence in the brownstone, made it obvious that his avoidance was deliberate. Waiting for the staff to finish their after work drinks before skulking in after to sit alone and in silence in the corner.
"This seat taken? No? Good." Amanda didn't give Remy the chance to reply before sliding into the seat opposite him, setting two fresh pints on the table. She'd noticed the black mood - it was impossible not to, especially if you worked for the man - and she'd been quietly watching and waiting to see how it panned out. Most of the time Remy came good on his own after a spot of brooding. But this time he hadn't, and it worried her. Enough to risk what was probably going to be an ugly conversation to try and get him out of it.
After all, he'd done the same for her, more times than she could count.
His eyes flickered up to look at her, and he sighed. "You know, petite, de reason dat Remy here alone might be because I want to be alone." The glass in front of him was almost full, but he drained the bourbon in a single gulp and looked at the pint for a moment before shrugging and drinking down a third of it in one pull.
She shrugged, unrepentant. "If you really wanted to be alone, you wouldn't be drinking in our local." Taking a mouthful of her own beer, she set the glass down and looked at him squarely, blue eyes meeting red on black. "You need to stop doing this, Remy."
"Non, I really don't." He ignored her look, drinking back the rest of the glass and waving at the waitress for more of whatever he'd been drinking. "I do de job. I pull my weight. De day dat's not de case, den you can tell me what I should and should not be doing. Until den, it's not anyone's business."
"Fuck doing the bloody job!" Her eyes flashed angrily and she leaned forward a little. "This isn't about doing the bloody job! It's about watching you shred yourself because you had to be the bastard to someone you care about. Again." Her tone softened as she sat back and added: "There's more to life than the job, Remy. And I'd like to think us being mates gives me the right to worry about you when I see you in a state."
Remy just looked at her for a moment, his face immobile as to be a mask. It wasn't him sitting there, but the veneer of the professional; his blank guarded look that gave nothing away to any one, especially nothing important or personal. It wasn't even Gambit. That face wore its cruelty and intelligent viciousness openly. This was like he'd been at the mansion, existing for little else than what he could do and giving nothing of who he was.
"You can worry. Remy can't stop dat."
The sight of that face disturbed Amanda more than she let on, all the more because it had been a long time since he'd used it with her. "No, Remy can't," she said, voice still firm but the anger and frustration and fear carefully hidden. She took another pull at her beer, before speaking again. "Why did you do it, Remy? Go off to Africa, tell Ms. Munroe--" The use of the title was odd, coming from the frequently-disrespectful punk witch, but it fit with her attitude towards the older woman. "--to pull her head in?"
He didn't bother to ask how she'd figured it out. After all, with tutors like Wisdom and Betsy, it would have been surprising if she hadn't. That didn't mean he wanted to talk about it. The waitress dropped off his drink, and he ordered another before she left. Once again, he'd worked out a deal with the bar, and they didn't dare cut him off. "Because it needed to be done. If you figured it out, you know why she needed to be stopped."
"But why you?" Amanda persisted. She had a point to this. "You could have passed on the info you had, given it to Summers or the X geezer. Hell, even Logan, if it had to be the tough talk - he doesn't pull his punches. But instead you took it on yourself. Why?"
Remy didn't answer, sipping from his drink as the question rolled around in his head. He'd heard that Summers had brought Ororo back, obviously smarter about it then Remy had been. It was always the case, after all. "You don't pass things off on others just because dey going to be hard."
"Even if it leaves you in a state like this?" the witch pressed. "Is it because you think stopping her was needed enough to risk doing this to yourself? Or because you care enough about her to want to do the job personal-like?"
"Or maybe I'm de one dat she deserves to hear it from. She knows dat I won't spare her anything, which is what she needed to be able to leave when her friends came for her later." He drained the rest of the bourbon and picked up the other. The waitress had just brought the bottle, shooting a glare at Amanda as she did so. Obviously LeBeau's sudden increased pace was being blamed on her.
"'Her friends'? You aren't one of those?"
"Not any more. Dat's de price." He shook his head. "But now she's out of it. Back where she belongs, wit'out going too far down to climb back out."
Amanda shook her head in disgust. "Is that how I used to sound? 'Cause I'm surprised someone didn't throw me off the bloody roof themselves." Her expression grew intense. "I can't believe I didn't realise it at the time, but I was a bit distracted. She's your friend, Remy. When she came 'round to the brownstone, she was worried and pissed off that you weren't there. And maybe you having to beat some sense into her head's damaged things beyond repair, but you're more than just the bastard, Remy. It's there, true, but you can't shut yourself off and say that's all there is. And Ms. Munroe, she knows there's more to you too, or she wouldn't have been so narked when I couldn't tell her where you were or when you'd be back." Amanda's voice was a mix of frustration and worry and concern. "Sure there's a price. But it shouldn't be you that pays it all the fucking time."
"Dat's not something dat you always get to control, 'manda. Would she have stopped if it was Summers, or Logan, or even you? I know how to hurt people de right way. She wouldn't have stayed, any more den you would have gone through wit' Selene." Remy's stony look never changed, the hurt acceptance of pain that had marked his transition from being a monster to a man. "So what's more important, neh? Her life or our friendship? I pay de price, and willingly. I'm used to being hated."
"We'll never know, will we? Whether she would have stopped for Summers or Logan." Her own expression was the opposite of his, her hurt on his behalf plain. "And you'll go on the way you have been, locking yourself away and being used to being hated. At least find out if she does hate you. Maybe she's realised you were doing what you needed to do." She looked down at the table top, the ring marks from the glasses, the bedraggled beer mats. "I did. And she's a lot smarter than I am."
"Maybe one day." Remy muttered, refilling his glass. He'd gone down there because he was sure he could stop her. The same thing when he went after Lorna. Or Amanda. Or Wisdom. It was always him he put out as the target first. And this time he didn't have a good answer why he couldn't come to grips with it. "Really, why would she want to? When I was down dere, she was happy, 'manda. At peace wit' herself for de first time since I've ever met her. And I took it away from her. Inch by inch, I tore it out and poisoned it so thoroughly dat dere's no way back for her. Why would you want anything to do with a person who's willing to do dat to you?"
Amanda spread her hands helplessly. "I don't have any answers, Remy. You did what you had to, what no-one else would, because you gave enough of a fuck for someone to risk them hating you for it. Same as when you did it for me, over and over. I hated you for it sometimes, the fact you wouldn't let me keep my illusions, the way you were always shoving the truth in my face, not treating me like I was a kid or fragile, like the rest did. But I knew you did it because you cared, and in the end, it's what got me through that whole fucking mess, you caring. You hurt her badly. I don't know if she'll see past that. But you did it because you cared, and that ought to count for something in the long run." She winced; she was sounding like a naive kid, fresh out of Xavier's. "You're not a monster, and you don't deserve to be hated. No matter how much you tell yourself that."
"Dat's what we have to live wit', isn't it?" Remy said quickly. Honestly he didn't know why he'd needed to do it to Ororo. He could have been more careful, taken his time. But deep down, he knew every second counted for her. Every day he'd taken would have made the blame she'd assume worse. No easy answers for them, that's what he'd told her. No free passes. No mercy. She deserved to hate him, and he couldn't even begin to understand why that tore at him so. "No easy answers." He repeated, out loud this time.
She sighed. "Not for us," she said, thinking of a conversation with Pete, on the way back from seeing Selene sunk to the bottom of the harbour. "Doesn't mean we have to make it harder on ourselves, tho'."
"Not when de only other choice is a lie." And that was it, really. Remy just couldn't step away from doing what he felt needed to be done, and he couldn't bear the thought of another person needing to take the repercussions of it other than himself. Easy seemed wrong, like the way back to Gambit. He'd stomped on Ororo so hard because he was honestly scared that she'd lose herself if he waited too long. That she'd find a way to talk herself into justifying it, or letting it take her. Break down under it, or worse, find a way to excuse it. Either way, what would come back wouldn't be her, and he cared too much to let her do that to herself.
The drink paused halfway to his lips, and he set it down again, the preoccupied look in his eyes. No, that couldn't be it. Not now, not after Lorna.
Amanda saw the hesitation but wisely chose not to push. He'd starting thinking at least, and that was a good thing - Remy tended to plunge into self-loathing and guilt first, actual rational thinking later. And yes, she was fully aware of the hypocrisy of the whole situation. But who else would hammer him on it, if not her?
The witch finished her beer and dug in her pocket for her wallet, tossing a few bills on the table. "Remember that, when you talk to her next. 'Bout lies," was all she said before shrugging into her coat. "You take care, swamp rat. See you in the morning."
OOC Note: Posted early due to plane-ness. Hopefully.
It wasn't surprising to see LeBeau sitting alone at a booth in Finnigans. The lanky Cajun had been avoiding most people, including his co-workers, ever since the holidays. His black mood had spilled over, uncharacteristically sharp comments and a distinct lack of patience was rapidly making his company something to be endured during the job, as opposed to sought out. He'd even been avoiding the normal hang outs, preferring to wander the city on his own, seeking out small and dark bars designed to be hidden in.
The fact that he hadn't been out with them earlier and his absence in the brownstone, made it obvious that his avoidance was deliberate. Waiting for the staff to finish their after work drinks before skulking in after to sit alone and in silence in the corner.
"This seat taken? No? Good." Amanda didn't give Remy the chance to reply before sliding into the seat opposite him, setting two fresh pints on the table. She'd noticed the black mood - it was impossible not to, especially if you worked for the man - and she'd been quietly watching and waiting to see how it panned out. Most of the time Remy came good on his own after a spot of brooding. But this time he hadn't, and it worried her. Enough to risk what was probably going to be an ugly conversation to try and get him out of it.
After all, he'd done the same for her, more times than she could count.
His eyes flickered up to look at her, and he sighed. "You know, petite, de reason dat Remy here alone might be because I want to be alone." The glass in front of him was almost full, but he drained the bourbon in a single gulp and looked at the pint for a moment before shrugging and drinking down a third of it in one pull.
She shrugged, unrepentant. "If you really wanted to be alone, you wouldn't be drinking in our local." Taking a mouthful of her own beer, she set the glass down and looked at him squarely, blue eyes meeting red on black. "You need to stop doing this, Remy."
"Non, I really don't." He ignored her look, drinking back the rest of the glass and waving at the waitress for more of whatever he'd been drinking. "I do de job. I pull my weight. De day dat's not de case, den you can tell me what I should and should not be doing. Until den, it's not anyone's business."
"Fuck doing the bloody job!" Her eyes flashed angrily and she leaned forward a little. "This isn't about doing the bloody job! It's about watching you shred yourself because you had to be the bastard to someone you care about. Again." Her tone softened as she sat back and added: "There's more to life than the job, Remy. And I'd like to think us being mates gives me the right to worry about you when I see you in a state."
Remy just looked at her for a moment, his face immobile as to be a mask. It wasn't him sitting there, but the veneer of the professional; his blank guarded look that gave nothing away to any one, especially nothing important or personal. It wasn't even Gambit. That face wore its cruelty and intelligent viciousness openly. This was like he'd been at the mansion, existing for little else than what he could do and giving nothing of who he was.
"You can worry. Remy can't stop dat."
The sight of that face disturbed Amanda more than she let on, all the more because it had been a long time since he'd used it with her. "No, Remy can't," she said, voice still firm but the anger and frustration and fear carefully hidden. She took another pull at her beer, before speaking again. "Why did you do it, Remy? Go off to Africa, tell Ms. Munroe--" The use of the title was odd, coming from the frequently-disrespectful punk witch, but it fit with her attitude towards the older woman. "--to pull her head in?"
He didn't bother to ask how she'd figured it out. After all, with tutors like Wisdom and Betsy, it would have been surprising if she hadn't. That didn't mean he wanted to talk about it. The waitress dropped off his drink, and he ordered another before she left. Once again, he'd worked out a deal with the bar, and they didn't dare cut him off. "Because it needed to be done. If you figured it out, you know why she needed to be stopped."
"But why you?" Amanda persisted. She had a point to this. "You could have passed on the info you had, given it to Summers or the X geezer. Hell, even Logan, if it had to be the tough talk - he doesn't pull his punches. But instead you took it on yourself. Why?"
Remy didn't answer, sipping from his drink as the question rolled around in his head. He'd heard that Summers had brought Ororo back, obviously smarter about it then Remy had been. It was always the case, after all. "You don't pass things off on others just because dey going to be hard."
"Even if it leaves you in a state like this?" the witch pressed. "Is it because you think stopping her was needed enough to risk doing this to yourself? Or because you care enough about her to want to do the job personal-like?"
"Or maybe I'm de one dat she deserves to hear it from. She knows dat I won't spare her anything, which is what she needed to be able to leave when her friends came for her later." He drained the rest of the bourbon and picked up the other. The waitress had just brought the bottle, shooting a glare at Amanda as she did so. Obviously LeBeau's sudden increased pace was being blamed on her.
"'Her friends'? You aren't one of those?"
"Not any more. Dat's de price." He shook his head. "But now she's out of it. Back where she belongs, wit'out going too far down to climb back out."
Amanda shook her head in disgust. "Is that how I used to sound? 'Cause I'm surprised someone didn't throw me off the bloody roof themselves." Her expression grew intense. "I can't believe I didn't realise it at the time, but I was a bit distracted. She's your friend, Remy. When she came 'round to the brownstone, she was worried and pissed off that you weren't there. And maybe you having to beat some sense into her head's damaged things beyond repair, but you're more than just the bastard, Remy. It's there, true, but you can't shut yourself off and say that's all there is. And Ms. Munroe, she knows there's more to you too, or she wouldn't have been so narked when I couldn't tell her where you were or when you'd be back." Amanda's voice was a mix of frustration and worry and concern. "Sure there's a price. But it shouldn't be you that pays it all the fucking time."
"Dat's not something dat you always get to control, 'manda. Would she have stopped if it was Summers, or Logan, or even you? I know how to hurt people de right way. She wouldn't have stayed, any more den you would have gone through wit' Selene." Remy's stony look never changed, the hurt acceptance of pain that had marked his transition from being a monster to a man. "So what's more important, neh? Her life or our friendship? I pay de price, and willingly. I'm used to being hated."
"We'll never know, will we? Whether she would have stopped for Summers or Logan." Her own expression was the opposite of his, her hurt on his behalf plain. "And you'll go on the way you have been, locking yourself away and being used to being hated. At least find out if she does hate you. Maybe she's realised you were doing what you needed to do." She looked down at the table top, the ring marks from the glasses, the bedraggled beer mats. "I did. And she's a lot smarter than I am."
"Maybe one day." Remy muttered, refilling his glass. He'd gone down there because he was sure he could stop her. The same thing when he went after Lorna. Or Amanda. Or Wisdom. It was always him he put out as the target first. And this time he didn't have a good answer why he couldn't come to grips with it. "Really, why would she want to? When I was down dere, she was happy, 'manda. At peace wit' herself for de first time since I've ever met her. And I took it away from her. Inch by inch, I tore it out and poisoned it so thoroughly dat dere's no way back for her. Why would you want anything to do with a person who's willing to do dat to you?"
Amanda spread her hands helplessly. "I don't have any answers, Remy. You did what you had to, what no-one else would, because you gave enough of a fuck for someone to risk them hating you for it. Same as when you did it for me, over and over. I hated you for it sometimes, the fact you wouldn't let me keep my illusions, the way you were always shoving the truth in my face, not treating me like I was a kid or fragile, like the rest did. But I knew you did it because you cared, and in the end, it's what got me through that whole fucking mess, you caring. You hurt her badly. I don't know if she'll see past that. But you did it because you cared, and that ought to count for something in the long run." She winced; she was sounding like a naive kid, fresh out of Xavier's. "You're not a monster, and you don't deserve to be hated. No matter how much you tell yourself that."
"Dat's what we have to live wit', isn't it?" Remy said quickly. Honestly he didn't know why he'd needed to do it to Ororo. He could have been more careful, taken his time. But deep down, he knew every second counted for her. Every day he'd taken would have made the blame she'd assume worse. No easy answers for them, that's what he'd told her. No free passes. No mercy. She deserved to hate him, and he couldn't even begin to understand why that tore at him so. "No easy answers." He repeated, out loud this time.
She sighed. "Not for us," she said, thinking of a conversation with Pete, on the way back from seeing Selene sunk to the bottom of the harbour. "Doesn't mean we have to make it harder on ourselves, tho'."
"Not when de only other choice is a lie." And that was it, really. Remy just couldn't step away from doing what he felt needed to be done, and he couldn't bear the thought of another person needing to take the repercussions of it other than himself. Easy seemed wrong, like the way back to Gambit. He'd stomped on Ororo so hard because he was honestly scared that she'd lose herself if he waited too long. That she'd find a way to talk herself into justifying it, or letting it take her. Break down under it, or worse, find a way to excuse it. Either way, what would come back wouldn't be her, and he cared too much to let her do that to herself.
The drink paused halfway to his lips, and he set it down again, the preoccupied look in his eyes. No, that couldn't be it. Not now, not after Lorna.
Amanda saw the hesitation but wisely chose not to push. He'd starting thinking at least, and that was a good thing - Remy tended to plunge into self-loathing and guilt first, actual rational thinking later. And yes, she was fully aware of the hypocrisy of the whole situation. But who else would hammer him on it, if not her?
The witch finished her beer and dug in her pocket for her wallet, tossing a few bills on the table. "Remember that, when you talk to her next. 'Bout lies," was all she said before shrugging into her coat. "You take care, swamp rat. See you in the morning."
OOC Note: Posted early due to plane-ness. Hopefully.
