Remy, Amanda - very early Monday morning
Jun. 18th, 2007 05:07 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xp_daytripper posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
xp_logsSo, just how is Remy dealing with things?
It wasn't a terribly good door lock. Inside the brownstone, they had only the most basic tumblers installed, in a surprisingly smaller level than most New York City apartments. The fact was that anyone stupid enough to break into the brownstone would face a lot more than triple locks for their trouble.
Habits of time, Remy considered, as he popped the lock with little effort. He could knock, but waking Amanda up wasn't something he wanted to do. Let her sleep, let her heal, especially while he was working. The lanky Cajun hadn't been to the office in days, spending his time seeing to networks and Guild business, or at least that's what his excuse was. Still, with her usual prescience, Tante Mattie's parcel had included a vile smelling green salve, forcing Remy to pass it along. He planned to drop it off on her table and steal out just as quietly. He had things to do.
The problem with best-laid plans, however, was they didn't always go to plan. A particularly bad nightmare had woken Amanda early, and she hadn't been able to get back to sleep. As a result, when her door swung open, it revealed the witch sitting at her kitchen table with a cup of tea and the painkiller bottle in front of her, dressed in an over-large t-shirt that in all likelihood belonged to Angelo at one point. She jumped a little at Remy's entrance, hands poised to clap together and create a shielding spell. When she saw who it was, she lowered them a little sheepishly.
"Morning," she said. "Tea?"
"Non," Which was a typical Remy response, especially when caught out in the middle of an job. Sometimes, the secret ninja thing was highly overrated. "Just got something for you from Tante. Didn't expect you to be awake, 'specially wit' de painkillers you been taking."
She pushed the bottle away guiltily, and shook her head. "Haven't been sleeping the best," she explained briefly. She raised her eyebrows at the parcel. "I was wondering when something would turn up. And you, for that matter. Haven't seen you since..." She let it hang. They both knew when the last time he'd seen her was.
"Been busy." It was a cheap dodge, but it had the advantage of being true. "You know how dis is." He sculled the bottle of green paste over the table, coming to rest against her cup. As for the painkillers, after the last year, he wasn't going to tell her anything. He knew first hand how pain could gnaw at you, and at this point, he wasn't about to say anything. He'd done enough as is.
"Fair enough." Perhaps not really, but she wasn't going to force him to confront what had happened. She wasn't going to do that to anyone, not while she was still processing it herself. She picked up the jar, turning it to examine the label in Tante's crabbed handwriting. Apply once a day, don't wear anything decent afterwards. Setting the jar down again, she looked at the man standing so uncomfortably in her kitchen. "Speaking of work... when do you want me back?"
"Whenever you ready. Dere's no rush. 'yana and Wanda working on de magic network, which you can jump right into. Otherwise, we got de rest under control for now." Remy said, shifting a little and sticking his hands into his coat pockets. "You just take de time you need."
Amanda nodded, stomping on the little pang of jealousy. Illyana had proved herself more than capable at the research - the fact she was alive proved that. "I've been working on the network a bit," she said instead. "Got a lot of time on my hands, so I've been on the 'Net, trying to lay some groundwork. Most of the sites out there are rubbish, but I've been leaving enough hints that someone who knows what they're doing will pick them up. If they do, I'll sound 'em out, see if we can use 'em."
"Remy got no doubt. You been doing dis long 'nough dat you know what's worth looking at." He never did question her about the magic side of the business. She not only had more knowledge than him, but understood the perpetually bizarre world that encompassed it. "When you ready to come back, you let dem know what else needs to be done."
"I will." The fact was, she didn't know when she'd be ready to go back. Physically she was healing. The rest? She had no idea. Some days were better than others. "Remy, I..." She stopped, not sure how to put what she was feeling into words. "Are you all right?" she settled for.
He managed a weak grin. "What's dat supposed to mean, chere. You know dat Remy fine. Considering de rest of you, all dat I had to do was blown up half a house. Not something dat preys on my consciousness, you know?"
She made an impatient noise. "Except it was your ex that started all this. Don't bullshit me, Remy, not now, not after everything."
"'donna was hired. Dat's what we assassins do. It's about de highest bidder." Remy shook his head. "Candra was... something different. I never saw it coming."
"None of us did. Fuck, even Tante didn't," Amanda pointed out. "Remy... this was gunna happen eventually. Selene was too powerful to not have left some friends behind, and they see Pete and me as responsible for her being at the bottom of the bay. Figures that something would happen." It's not your fault. She couldn't say it, but she wanted him to know it.
"Maybe. I gave Alarune his chance. Not next time." Remy said darkly. He'd allowed too much latitude to his targets. Torture would have worked for Alarune. Making a man eat his own eyeball tended to convince them to tell you what they knew to avoid having to do it twice. He'd been soft, confused. No more. "Remy not going to let it happen 'gain, chere. Dose scars? No more. Remy lined up a mutant dat can take dem 'way. You not going to pay for dis."
"No!" It came out a bit more loudly than either of them expected, and Amanda glanced at the door, half expecting one of her neighbours to appear. "If I wanted them gone, I could do it myself. No shortage of donors with between here and the mansion. But you know what? This doesn't matter. It's not me paying for anything. And it's sure as hell not anything you should be thinking you have to fix." She took a breath, willed herself calm. "This is the second time my back's been fucked up, Remy. Maybe I should take a hint from Fate and leave it, huh?"
"Merde. Dis was salope wit' a mad on, not fate! You get rid of dat! Dere's no marks dat you need to bear because of--" Remy stopped, fingers tightening against the table. He got up, prying himself away from the place. "Dis isn't 'bout you. You get rid of dem, and Remy bring you de heads of de people who caused it. 'donna going to die hard 'cause of dis."
Amanda's hand shot out, grabbing for his wrist. "You listen to me, Remy LeBeau," she said, truly angry now. "This. Wasn't. Your. Fault. And considering I'm the one who nearly got used as a conduit to bring back Selene, I'd say that it was fucking well about me. You want to take that bitch Belladonna down, I'm not gunna argue. Hell, I'd help, if you let me. But the rest of it is up to me, and I say these scars don't matter. At least not to me. If they do to the rest of you..." She paused, and then shrugged dismissively. "Then maybe you can't see anything other than another victim that needs fixing."
"Stop. You know dat's not de case. But if we'd done dis right de first time--" Remy said, and stopped, angrily. "Dere's been enough people dat been in de way of dis. It's got to stop at some point. You don't need to play de damn martyr for what Pete and I started."
"I'm not being a martyr! For fuck's sake, can't you see I need to be more than that?" Amanda's hand tightened on his wrist, the healing scabs on her own standing out against her pale skin. "Gambit could have prevented this, yeah. But Remy's the person I want to deal with, and if it means dealing with this shite, then fine, I'll deal with it. I know what I signed up for, Remy. Don't take that away from me."
"Don't do dat." Remy said harshly, pulling away from her. "Don't tell me what you're going to go through wit' a smile on you face. Dey going to kill you."
The brutality of his words fit his face. There was the twisted pain, the anger. The violent expression of a man driven to his own reckoning. What had happened was because of him. Alarune, Candra, Belladonna; he'd been too weak to be the person he should have. Gambit would have killed them all. Remy let them hurt everything that meant anything to him. Ororo, Amanda... it was Pete that had saved him, taken the hard answers away. What a coward. "It's not going to happen 'gain. Dis stops here."
"Remy, please..." She'd risen to confront him; now she reached out in an almost pleading gesture. "I can't... if you let this destroy you, I can't deal with it. I don't need vengeance, I need my friend. The one who stuck by me, even when I went to the fucking witch who started all of this." Her voice hitched a little, and the tears she'd managed to hold back started to leak through. "I need you, Remy."
"Don't--" Remy said again, fighting it. Gambit could keep them safe. That's who he was. Ororo understood that. Pete did. That was the person he needed to be. Why couldn't she let him? "It's not enough. Dere's always someone. Dere's always... de monster stops it. It stops it!"
"And what's left afterwards?" She held onto both his upper arms, her intensity ludicrous in the face of her sleep rumpled hair and sleepwear. "If you're nothing but the monster, what's left after the killing's done? Nothing, because the monster's never done."
"Stop it. You know better den de rest." Remy wrenched himself from her grip. "De guilds don't go away! De cult be back! Dere's only one way to stop dem from ever coming for you. Any of you. Let me do it. Let me stop dem. No one gets to pay for me but me."
"This isn't all about you!" Her hands dropped to her sides, her shoulders slumping. "I made the deal with Selene, Remy. Some of this is down to me. And I can't see you throw yourself away. Not for this."
"You don't understand." There was a treacherous voice in Remy's head that said no one could, but he shoved it away. That justified too much. He stepped back from the table, shoving away his chair. "Remy take care of dis. Dat's all you need to know." Without another word, he turned and walked out of the apartment.
"Fuck." Amanda slumped back in her chair, wincing and pulling away as her back contacted the back of it. She picked up the mug, feeling its warm, comforting weight, and then hurled it as hard as she could against the far wall, tea and crockery shards scattering everywhere.
It wasn't a terribly good door lock. Inside the brownstone, they had only the most basic tumblers installed, in a surprisingly smaller level than most New York City apartments. The fact was that anyone stupid enough to break into the brownstone would face a lot more than triple locks for their trouble.
Habits of time, Remy considered, as he popped the lock with little effort. He could knock, but waking Amanda up wasn't something he wanted to do. Let her sleep, let her heal, especially while he was working. The lanky Cajun hadn't been to the office in days, spending his time seeing to networks and Guild business, or at least that's what his excuse was. Still, with her usual prescience, Tante Mattie's parcel had included a vile smelling green salve, forcing Remy to pass it along. He planned to drop it off on her table and steal out just as quietly. He had things to do.
The problem with best-laid plans, however, was they didn't always go to plan. A particularly bad nightmare had woken Amanda early, and she hadn't been able to get back to sleep. As a result, when her door swung open, it revealed the witch sitting at her kitchen table with a cup of tea and the painkiller bottle in front of her, dressed in an over-large t-shirt that in all likelihood belonged to Angelo at one point. She jumped a little at Remy's entrance, hands poised to clap together and create a shielding spell. When she saw who it was, she lowered them a little sheepishly.
"Morning," she said. "Tea?"
"Non," Which was a typical Remy response, especially when caught out in the middle of an job. Sometimes, the secret ninja thing was highly overrated. "Just got something for you from Tante. Didn't expect you to be awake, 'specially wit' de painkillers you been taking."
She pushed the bottle away guiltily, and shook her head. "Haven't been sleeping the best," she explained briefly. She raised her eyebrows at the parcel. "I was wondering when something would turn up. And you, for that matter. Haven't seen you since..." She let it hang. They both knew when the last time he'd seen her was.
"Been busy." It was a cheap dodge, but it had the advantage of being true. "You know how dis is." He sculled the bottle of green paste over the table, coming to rest against her cup. As for the painkillers, after the last year, he wasn't going to tell her anything. He knew first hand how pain could gnaw at you, and at this point, he wasn't about to say anything. He'd done enough as is.
"Fair enough." Perhaps not really, but she wasn't going to force him to confront what had happened. She wasn't going to do that to anyone, not while she was still processing it herself. She picked up the jar, turning it to examine the label in Tante's crabbed handwriting. Apply once a day, don't wear anything decent afterwards. Setting the jar down again, she looked at the man standing so uncomfortably in her kitchen. "Speaking of work... when do you want me back?"
"Whenever you ready. Dere's no rush. 'yana and Wanda working on de magic network, which you can jump right into. Otherwise, we got de rest under control for now." Remy said, shifting a little and sticking his hands into his coat pockets. "You just take de time you need."
Amanda nodded, stomping on the little pang of jealousy. Illyana had proved herself more than capable at the research - the fact she was alive proved that. "I've been working on the network a bit," she said instead. "Got a lot of time on my hands, so I've been on the 'Net, trying to lay some groundwork. Most of the sites out there are rubbish, but I've been leaving enough hints that someone who knows what they're doing will pick them up. If they do, I'll sound 'em out, see if we can use 'em."
"Remy got no doubt. You been doing dis long 'nough dat you know what's worth looking at." He never did question her about the magic side of the business. She not only had more knowledge than him, but understood the perpetually bizarre world that encompassed it. "When you ready to come back, you let dem know what else needs to be done."
"I will." The fact was, she didn't know when she'd be ready to go back. Physically she was healing. The rest? She had no idea. Some days were better than others. "Remy, I..." She stopped, not sure how to put what she was feeling into words. "Are you all right?" she settled for.
He managed a weak grin. "What's dat supposed to mean, chere. You know dat Remy fine. Considering de rest of you, all dat I had to do was blown up half a house. Not something dat preys on my consciousness, you know?"
She made an impatient noise. "Except it was your ex that started all this. Don't bullshit me, Remy, not now, not after everything."
"'donna was hired. Dat's what we assassins do. It's about de highest bidder." Remy shook his head. "Candra was... something different. I never saw it coming."
"None of us did. Fuck, even Tante didn't," Amanda pointed out. "Remy... this was gunna happen eventually. Selene was too powerful to not have left some friends behind, and they see Pete and me as responsible for her being at the bottom of the bay. Figures that something would happen." It's not your fault. She couldn't say it, but she wanted him to know it.
"Maybe. I gave Alarune his chance. Not next time." Remy said darkly. He'd allowed too much latitude to his targets. Torture would have worked for Alarune. Making a man eat his own eyeball tended to convince them to tell you what they knew to avoid having to do it twice. He'd been soft, confused. No more. "Remy not going to let it happen 'gain, chere. Dose scars? No more. Remy lined up a mutant dat can take dem 'way. You not going to pay for dis."
"No!" It came out a bit more loudly than either of them expected, and Amanda glanced at the door, half expecting one of her neighbours to appear. "If I wanted them gone, I could do it myself. No shortage of donors with between here and the mansion. But you know what? This doesn't matter. It's not me paying for anything. And it's sure as hell not anything you should be thinking you have to fix." She took a breath, willed herself calm. "This is the second time my back's been fucked up, Remy. Maybe I should take a hint from Fate and leave it, huh?"
"Merde. Dis was salope wit' a mad on, not fate! You get rid of dat! Dere's no marks dat you need to bear because of--" Remy stopped, fingers tightening against the table. He got up, prying himself away from the place. "Dis isn't 'bout you. You get rid of dem, and Remy bring you de heads of de people who caused it. 'donna going to die hard 'cause of dis."
Amanda's hand shot out, grabbing for his wrist. "You listen to me, Remy LeBeau," she said, truly angry now. "This. Wasn't. Your. Fault. And considering I'm the one who nearly got used as a conduit to bring back Selene, I'd say that it was fucking well about me. You want to take that bitch Belladonna down, I'm not gunna argue. Hell, I'd help, if you let me. But the rest of it is up to me, and I say these scars don't matter. At least not to me. If they do to the rest of you..." She paused, and then shrugged dismissively. "Then maybe you can't see anything other than another victim that needs fixing."
"Stop. You know dat's not de case. But if we'd done dis right de first time--" Remy said, and stopped, angrily. "Dere's been enough people dat been in de way of dis. It's got to stop at some point. You don't need to play de damn martyr for what Pete and I started."
"I'm not being a martyr! For fuck's sake, can't you see I need to be more than that?" Amanda's hand tightened on his wrist, the healing scabs on her own standing out against her pale skin. "Gambit could have prevented this, yeah. But Remy's the person I want to deal with, and if it means dealing with this shite, then fine, I'll deal with it. I know what I signed up for, Remy. Don't take that away from me."
"Don't do dat." Remy said harshly, pulling away from her. "Don't tell me what you're going to go through wit' a smile on you face. Dey going to kill you."
The brutality of his words fit his face. There was the twisted pain, the anger. The violent expression of a man driven to his own reckoning. What had happened was because of him. Alarune, Candra, Belladonna; he'd been too weak to be the person he should have. Gambit would have killed them all. Remy let them hurt everything that meant anything to him. Ororo, Amanda... it was Pete that had saved him, taken the hard answers away. What a coward. "It's not going to happen 'gain. Dis stops here."
"Remy, please..." She'd risen to confront him; now she reached out in an almost pleading gesture. "I can't... if you let this destroy you, I can't deal with it. I don't need vengeance, I need my friend. The one who stuck by me, even when I went to the fucking witch who started all of this." Her voice hitched a little, and the tears she'd managed to hold back started to leak through. "I need you, Remy."
"Don't--" Remy said again, fighting it. Gambit could keep them safe. That's who he was. Ororo understood that. Pete did. That was the person he needed to be. Why couldn't she let him? "It's not enough. Dere's always someone. Dere's always... de monster stops it. It stops it!"
"And what's left afterwards?" She held onto both his upper arms, her intensity ludicrous in the face of her sleep rumpled hair and sleepwear. "If you're nothing but the monster, what's left after the killing's done? Nothing, because the monster's never done."
"Stop it. You know better den de rest." Remy wrenched himself from her grip. "De guilds don't go away! De cult be back! Dere's only one way to stop dem from ever coming for you. Any of you. Let me do it. Let me stop dem. No one gets to pay for me but me."
"This isn't all about you!" Her hands dropped to her sides, her shoulders slumping. "I made the deal with Selene, Remy. Some of this is down to me. And I can't see you throw yourself away. Not for this."
"You don't understand." There was a treacherous voice in Remy's head that said no one could, but he shoved it away. That justified too much. He stepped back from the table, shoving away his chair. "Remy take care of dis. Dat's all you need to know." Without another word, he turned and walked out of the apartment.
"Fuck." Amanda slumped back in her chair, wincing and pulling away as her back contacted the back of it. She picked up the mug, feeling its warm, comforting weight, and then hurled it as hard as she could against the far wall, tea and crockery shards scattering everywhere.
