Remy, Madelyn - Saturday night

[x-madelyn.livejournal.com]

After this encounter, Madelyn gets a call from Harry's that a staff member is doing his best to self-destruct. She attempts a pick-up, but it doesn't go well.



The phone shrilled in the main hall, that extra loud ring that members of the mansion had bet was Charles' specific request so no one in the entire house could claim they didn't hear the phone. Logan had once picked up the ring from the Danger Room, leading to him pausing from eviscerating a remote long enough to pantomime a receiver with his fingers and ask 'hello'.

They showed the video every Christmas.

With a frown, Madleyn gave the phone a look. She was on her way back over to the boathouse after a food run, her hands were full and it didn't seem like anyone else was available. With a sigh she set down her coffee mug and picked up the receiver. "Hello, Xavier's School for the Gifted."

"Is Cain there?" There was a vast amount of background chatter on the line, like the person was calling from the middle of a party. The voice sounded familiar, but Madelyn couldn't quite place it.

"Ah, I'm sorry, he's unavailable at the moment..." she temporised. "Can I take a message?"

"Um, not really." Harry was one of the more successful bar owners in town. After taking over and remodeling his father's sports equipment store, he'd learned the three rules of owning bar. Always smile, never extend credit, and always have whatever someone wants on tap, as long as all they want is Coors. The formula had been remarkably successful, especially with the influx from the Xavier estate. But Harry didn't believe in borrowing trouble, and if Cain wasn't around some one else deserved it. "I got one of yours trying to drink himself to death tonight."

"Crap... Harry, is that you? It's Madelyn." Setting down the plate in her other hand, she began calculating which staff member it could be - Harry knew all the kids, and wouldn't serve any of them. It wasn't worth the grief. "I'll come and take him off your hands. Who is it?"

"Didn't get a name, and not sure I want to. I think it's the same guy that Joanne took home six months ago." Harry switched shoulders with the phone. "I should have cut him off hours ago, but he's got the look of someone that would have found a corner to keep going. At least I can keep an eye on him, Maddie." Harry generally liked the staff at the school. Cain once coached his Little League team, and even the Brits were good company, as long as he keep a stock of imports in the fridge. He had even been thinking of grabbing the three taps from the bankruptcy sale from that sports bar near the mall. So, he carefully kept them in touch with their own's habits, and quietly made sure the kids with the abnormally good fake ids didn't get too far in trouble.

Someone who had taken home the barmaid... That was either Manuel (highly unlikely, since he was definitely on the Do Not Serve list, aside from the whole loss of memory) or... "Um, this guy wouldn't have reddish brown hair and be keeping to the shadows, would he? Tall, sort of wiry?" 'Please don't let it be him,' she prayed silently.

"Red on black eyes." Harry said flatly, and her sudden intake of breath told him he scored a hit. "Look, I haven't seen anything this dedicated since the Marines. I'm not cutting him off without the cops present, so you might want to get someone down here."

"Double crap," Madelyn sighed. "Okay, Harry, I'm on my way down." Possibly with a tranq gun, only Remy had that freaky immunity to most drugs... "And I'm sorry about this. I hope he hasn't caused you any trouble."

"All he's done is sit quietly and keep ordering. Hell, most people won't even know he's that drunk." Most people hadn't spent Tet as a piss-scared sixteen year old in a firebase so far north of civilization that the Pole looked tropical. That's where Harry had seen this last. "Maddie, hurry." He said, and hung up the phone.

***

The beery warmth of Harry's hit her almost like a physical blow after the chill outside. Shoving her car keys into the pocket of her suede jacket, Madelyn caught Harry's eye behind the bar, and followed his nod towards one of the darker corners. Yep, she'd picked it in one. Making her way through the jovial pre-holiday crowd, she slid into the seat opposite the figure slumped back into the booth. "Hello, Remy. Cab's here," she said neutrally, noting the number of glasses in front of him. Nope, this was getting ugly.

"Don't remember ordering a cab, femme. 'specially not from de cops." His mouth made a sloppy grin that didn't even come close to his eyes. "Less course you going to arrest me. Been arrested before. You prettier den he was." Remy refilled the glass in front of him from the bottle, and tipped a healthy measure into the empty glass in front of her. "Got plans for de handcuffs?"

Madelyn wrinkled her nose. JD. Ew. "I'm not arresting you unless you ask me very nicely, Remy," she said, ignoring the glass in front of her. "I've just come to take you home, that's all. I think it's time to call it a night, don't you?"

"Non. In fact, de chances of calling it a night are very slim." He said, with obviously drunken cheerfulness. "See, calling it a night assumes dat you're done, and Remy not even close to being done." he took a deep swallow of the glass at his elbow, and Madelyn looked puzzled. Everyone assumed he was still in Las Vegas cleaning up after the job, not drinking down the street at Harry's.

"Remy might not think he's done, but there's others who would beg to differ." She leaned back in the chair, surveying him intently. Cheerful Remy was a very drunk Remy, in her limited experience. She just hoped this wasn't going to get too ugly. "How long have you been back from Vegas? Nathan said you'd be gone for a couple of weeks."

"Got back today." Remy said, the same enforced cheer in his voice. "De city of lights. Wait, dats Paris. Paris. You know dat Remy once got shot in Paris? De whole city smells like piss. If you have a chance, avoid getting shot in Paris."

"I'll make a note of it," Madelyn said dryly. "So, back today and straight to Harry's, by the looks of it. Or did you stop by the school first?" Something had to have set him off. She just hoped it wasn't anything in Vegas.

"You'd think dat at a school dey teach you things, don't you?" Remy muttered, drinking off the rest of the glass and refilling it. "Go to de school and come out knowing more. Guess dats de plan. Worked for Remy. Bet I could be a teacher too? You think? Nate's a teacher. Teach about Budapest in de 90s. Dere was dis bar. Served dis plum drink. You been to Budapest? Dat was de place for killers."

"Remy." Enough of the rambling - she couldn't even begin to answer even half of the questions he was firing at her. "Remy, did something go wrong? In Vegas?"

"Vegas? Non," he waved his hand dismissively. "Vegas was de movie, chere. Bet dat even Brad Pitt wanted a part in dat job. Just kids too." He seemed to brighten visiably. "Dat's right! A school taught dem to knock over a casino. You going to need a lot of handcuffs for dem, officer."

"I'm the first to agree the kids shouldn't have had to be there," she told him. "But you said it yourself, there was no other way. And they're back, safe and sound. Which begs the question, then, if nothing else has gone wrong, why would you be here, trying to pickle yourself in bourbon?"

"See, dat's what Remy talking 'bout, chere. Evidence. You looking for evidence. But it all exists up here." Remy tapped his forehead in what he likely believed was a knowing gesture. "Take dem out on 'nother job too. Good crew. Say, bet you should come. You get to learn things away from de school. Dat sound like dat right to you?"

"Somehow I doubt there will be any more jobs for the kids, unless by remote chance similar circumstances turn up. Which is unlikely, even with the luck the school has." Madelyn's tone was firm. "And I have plenty here to keep me busy." A thought struck her. "Shit, Cain... Did someone tell you what happened?"

"Dere'll be jobs. Dat's de point. Dere'll always be jobs." remy said unsteadily. "Den, dats when dey learn. Dey learn. And dat-- Cain? He's a doll." Remy abruptly broke into laughter. "Got dem plastic eyes and de--" He kept laughing, pounding the table with the flat of his hand. His thick Cajun accent was get worse by the minute.

"Ooo-kay, obviously not..." Madelyn contemplated the drunken Cajun (who was getting seriously incomprehensible) and sighed. She was going to have to try another tack, since reasoning hadn't worked. "Cain's in medla," she said bluntly, cutting through his laughter. "There was an accident."

"Lemme guess. Fashion sense." It set Remy off again. "Dat homme is invulnerable. De only thing dat could hurt him is..." Remy suddenly went serious. "He slept wit' dat Blaire femme, didn't he." Remy made vague gestures with his hands, like he was describing a fish he caught. "Figure dat hommes' 'bout, well, you his doctor."

"If that was the case it'd be Alison in the medlab, not Cain. There was some sort of training accident." Madelyn's irritation came through clearly. "He nearly died - guess he's not so invulnerable after all."

Remy waved his hands dismissively. "See, dats where you're wrong, femme. Too much time in de school." Remy leaned forward conspiratorially. "People don't really die, femme. You can't kill dem. Dey just won't die. Dey just move up here." Remy tapped his forehead again. "Dey just keep living here."

Of course. That was it. At least he wasn't taking a brick to his head this time. "Those are memories, Remy," she said, giving in and taking a sip of the JD in the glass in front of her. Bleah. "That's all - echoes of the dead. People die, and they don't always have the luxury of haunting half-psychotic ex-assassins."

"You think you know dat? How many people who you kill dat went in your head?" Remy said, and took a long drink from his glass. "Dey dere. Such little lives too. Dey talk to you, chere, in de night. Dey tell you about dere little lives. How dey going to get milk on de way home or dere wife get mad. Or dat they thinking of having 'nother child. De things dat don't matter at all."

"That's the beauty of guilt, Remy - it gets you in a hundred ways you never even saw coming." Knocking back the rest of the JD, Madelyn stood. "And far be it for me to interrupt a perfectly good wallow, it's been drawn to my attention that you're in danger of being cut off here. So, how about I run you back to the mansion, and you can continue the self-destruction there?"

Madelyn saw the sudden flicker of anger in Remy's red on black eyes, and behind it, an utterly new thing. She'd seem him cocky, and hiding, and exhausted, but this was the first time she'd seen him like this: broken. "How about you fuck off home, officer? You don't know a damn thing 'bout it. Like de rest of dem. But you arrogant enough to think so."

"Believe me, I'd love to, but Harry's happens to be my local as well as yours, and I'd really like to be able to keep coming here. And if you end up tearing the place up when Harry cuts you off, well, that'd be a shame." Madelyn's voice was stern, but there was a certain amount of sympathy in her eyes. "And no, I don't know a thing about it. I've never been a government-trained assassin, had a new personality written over the top of the old one, broken conditioning and the like. The ghosts that haunt me are much more run of the mill, the same ones that haunt any doctor. So no, I don't know. But I am taking you home."

"Home? Dats de thing dat don't exist any more." Remy said, hunkering down in the seat. "You can go now, doctor." Remy deliberately stressed the final word. "Go home." He said again, quietly, as he sat back in his seat. "Go home."

"It can exist again, if you let it." Madelyn's words were quiet, barely audible over the noise of the other drinkers, but she knew he'd hear them. "You risked your life for the school, when you didn't have to - don't think that went unnoticed." Straightening her jacket, she looked down at him and sighed. "I'll send 'round Pete in an hour or so. As much as it pisses you off, we look after our own at Xavier's. And that includes you. Besides, like I said, I like this place. I'd hate to have to find somewhere else for my time off."

Remy didn't even acknowledge her, simply staring at the tabletop silently. She knew he'd order another drink, and she knew as long as he didn't start a fight, Harry would serve it just to keep things peaceful. But there was something that had given up tonight, and the very real possibility was that it was Remy Le Beau.