Amanda, Remy - Friday night

[xp_daytripper]

Upon Remy's return from his mysterious Pete-related errand, Amanda tracks him down to ask what he found. She finds Remy on the roof, imagine that. There's guilt and self-recrimination, but there's also signs that a friendship isn't as lost as once thought.



Word was Remy had been spotted back in the mansion, and given the only thing he was working on was Pete, Amanda wanted to know what had happened. If Remy had found him, what they'd said... The only problem was, she couldn't find him in any of the usual places. Eventually she decided to head up to the flyer's platform, to have a smoke in peace and to think the problem through, try and decide if she'd exhausted all non-magical avenues. And as fate would have it, who did she find but the one person she was looking for.

"Hey," she began, coming over to join him where he sat on the edge of the platform, legs dangling, but the joke about taking over her brooding spots died on her lips as she got a good look at him. She'd seen Remy in various states, from destructively drunk to scary assassin, but this was new. He looked... beaten. Defeated.

There was already an empty pack of cigarettes beside him, and a fresh one open. He'd been there for a while. Remy ignored her as he pitched his butt off the edge and lit another one. This was the part he was dreading, even past the numbing emotional state he'd been in since leaving Chicago.

"'manda." Remy said finally, turning to look at her. She had the look of anticipation, wanting to hear some good news about Wisdom. Typically, Remy thought sourly, the only thing he had to offer her was disappointment.

The expression on his face was what did it. As soon as she saw that she knew something bad had happened. Something worse than what had already gone on, if that was possible. "Tell me," she said through numb lips, the weight on her chest like a block of ice. "For fuck's sake, Remy, tell me what happened. Is he dead?"

"Non. He's not dead. Dat would make things a lot easier, but he's not dead." Remy took a deep breath, tried to pull himself together. "Talked to him. But he's already made his decision. Figures dat making dis as public as possible is de best way to keep you and Romany safe. Fuck, for all I know, he's right too." Remy finished disgustedly.

Pete's choice had hit him hard. He certainly wouldn't tell anyone, and Wisdom would be appalled to hear it, but Pete's clawing out of the hellish world he'd been in, making the hard decision to try and change had given Remy hope that it was possible. Now, he'd been proved wrong.

Amanda was torn. On the one part she wanted de la Rocha dead. Very dead. But on the other, if it was going to endanger the school... "So what happens now?" she asked, more to herself than to him. "Pete shops him, and then what? They come after the school?"

"I don't know." Remy said quietly, looking out over the darkened forest. "If Shaw's got de people behind him, or Wisdom scares de others into backing Shaw in case dere next, den oui, dey come for us. De worst thing is dat Wisdom doesn't even fucking care." The last sentence was delivered with venom that surprised even Le Beau.

If it surprised Remy, it shocked Amanda. Pete could be a right bastard, true, but he cared, she knew he did. And not just for her and Romany. She'd seen him, doing his rounds, chatting with the more difficult students, the ones who didn't take to conventional help that well. "You're wrong," she said distantly, refusing to contemplate Remy's truth. "That can't be right, there has to be somethin' else we're missin'."

"Maybe. Maybe he's got some plan dat he doesn't want to share. But I know what he told me, 'manda. He doesn't care if it starts a war, and if de rest of us get caught in because of it, dat's just too bad." Remy scrubbed his hands through his hair. "It's just so stupid. Dere's a dozen ways to make Alphonso dead without giving Shaw ammunition, and he's ignoring dem all to make some pointless statement." Remy pulling the cigarette from his mouth and charged it, flinging it out over the forest. The nimbus of purple arced and ended with a muted 'bang'.

And he was doing it for her. To make sure she was safe. Even if it wasn't her fault Alphonso had targeted them, Pete was still doing this for his family. To protect them. Pulling her legs up into a miserable huddle, she looked out over the darkened grounds. "What're you gunna do?" she asked quietly, hopelessly.

Remy was silent for a long time, carefully pulling out another cigarette and lighting it with his finger. He offered her the pack as he finally spoke.

"Nothing." That surprised her. "Wisdom is right on one thing. Alphonso isn't going to stop until he's dead, and dere not too many people dat deserve killing more den him. De only way to stop Pete is to kill him, and I can't do dat. De la Rocha's life isn't worth Pete's, no matter how stupid dat homme is acting."

She took a cigarette automatically, a part of the back of her mind inanely making a wry comment about how she could never actually quit in this place. She didn't have her lighter with her and so lit it with the fire spell, reminded vividly of countless times seeing Pete do the very same thing. The smoke was comforting in a way that had nothing to do with the nicotine rush.

Remy wouldn't stop him. She let out a breath she didn't even know she'd been holding, knowing in her heart what that result would have been. "I wish Rom had never found me," she said, still in that tightly controlled voice. "None of this would've happened otherwise."

"Dat's de stupidest fucking thing dat Remy ever heard." LeBeau said harshly, shocking her. "If dat was de case, dat Illyana be dead, a couple of others too. Fuck, I'd be back to de old Remy, and everyone in dis place would have died screaming. Dis has nothing to do wit' you, and every to do wit' Wisdom. He's decided dat he doesn't give a fuck about anyone else."

"But..." It was hard to argue with the facts shoved so forcibly under her nose. She _had_ been responsible for Illyana's survival, at least partly. And several people, including Nathan, wouldn't be walking around right now if she hadn't been here. "I don't want t' blame him," she said miserably at last. "He's the first person who ever gave a shite, helped get me out an' t' here, an' helped me stay when I was fuckin' up. Fuck, he even killed Rack for me. He's been there for me whenever I needed him, an' now..." She couldn't finish, throat constricting.

"He figures he's still doing de same thing. De problem is dat he's decided no one else matters. And dats where things get fucked." Remy let out a plume of smoke, staring at the sky. "If something goes wrong and he kills one of de X-Men in de way? Den... fuck, he just won't listen."

"I don't want this, none of it," Amanda said helplessly. "He's doin' it for me, an' I don't want him to, not if it means him throwin' everythin' away. Fuck, I'd do that cunt meself if it would mean Pete..."

"He's not doing dis for you. You and Romany are de excuse. He's doing dis for himself, to make a point." Remy said miserably. "I'm sure he's convinced himself dat dis is best for de both of you, but--"

Remy cut off again, just so tired and weary of all of this. "It's not your fault, 'manda. Could be dat Remy is de one dat's wrong. I just don't know any more. Not dis, not dis place. What de fuck am I doing here?"

Again that icy hand clutched at her heart. "'Cause you want t' be," she said, trying to keep the fear out of her voice. "'Cause you can help, in ways no-one else can." She wouldn't say it, wouldn't make him feel he had to stay. "If you go, who's gunna help with this mess? The X-Men?"

"Dat's part of de problem. I can't be out wit' de X-Men for dis. Remy only have one way to stop Pete, and I'm not going to do dat. Not if I don't have to." Remy sighed. "So de la Rocha is a dead man. If we lucky, de mansion doesn't follow. I'm sorry, 'manda. Dis not helping you any."

"But there's stuff you can do, t' make sure this place stays as safe as it can, right?" It was one part clutching at straws and one part throwing a lifeline. "Not with Pete, but the rest of the bastards. Stuff no-one else can." A desperate note hit her voice. "Fuck, Remy, you can't leave. Not now."

"I'm not leaving, 'manda. Comes down to it, I'll put Shaw in the ground first, and de Professor can hand me to de police." Remy looked miserable, stuck between his decision to stay and the realization of what that meant for him. Besides, even if he was willing to run and accept that his life was a waste, Tante wouldn't let him. She had him as bound as his own guilt.

"'sides, Remy leave, who are you and Lorna goin' to boss around for his own good?"

Conscience pricked her, selfishness warring with the knowledge Remy hated this just as much as she did and she'd pretty much forced him to stay. "I'm sorry,"' she said quietly, unfolding herself enough to free one hand and rest it hesitantly on his arm. "It's just... I hate losin' friends. An' that's been happenin' way too much lately."

"Friends. Dat's not something Remy 'pecting to hear." He responded, not flinching at her touch like with most people. Remy was trained to seduce, to manipulate and to use, but just basic interaction was still an unread book to him.

"Merci for trying to help wit' Wisdom, chere. Best you keep de real story quiet for now. De people around here won't understand."

She nodded, shoulders slumping a little. More secrets. "Haven't said anythin' yet," she replied, trying hard to be the adult he treated her as. "Ain't none of their business yet any way. Maybe Pete'll come round." It was said without much hope, though.

"Maybe. If we both likely, Alphonso has a heart attack tomorrow and dis is all for nothing. But Remy doubt dat." LeBeau flicked his cigarette away and slowly got to his feet.

"'Cause we don't get things easy, chere. Wish dat it wasn't true, but dat seems to be de way of things."

"I know," she said softly, resting her chin on her knees and wrapping her arms around her legs again. "Thanks, for tellin' me. I wish..." She trailed off, not knowing what she wished. "I'm sorry it had t' be you, but I'd rather hear it straight, an' you're about the only one who knows what's goin' on who does that lately."

"Think dat I owe you a little honesty, chere." Remy said. "You not weak, 'manda. You not weak and you not at fault. Dat means you can handle de truth. Sure dat dere plenty of people dat think Remy's wrong on dat, but it not dere responsibility."

She nodded. "I appreciate it," she said, looking up at him. "Think I'll sit up here a bit longer, finish me smoke ," she went on, then paused. "If I need... can I come talk t' you? If I need to? No more guilt trips, I promise, but 's hard, keepin' secrets."

"Sure. I know how hard it can be when you know something that others don't. Especially in dis place." Remy stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Anytime, 'manda. You just find me."

Remy turned and started to leave, only to pause on look over his shoulder. "But if de sock is on de doorknob, knock first, oui?"