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Chapters
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
 
 
 

The Companion Picture - REVIEW THIS STORY

Written by Dandelion
Last updated: 12/03/2009 06:26:08 PM

Chapter 12

"I think I'm about the most exhausted person that ever lived." Magnus sighed heavily as he pulled the bike up in front of a hotel.

Remy, relaxing in the sidecar, looked up at his friend and nodded. "Know what you mean. I could get into a long period of nothin'." He looked at the hotel doors and grinned at the doorman who was watching them uncertainly.

"Yes." Magnus beckoned to the doorman who motioned for a valet. "I think we shall rest for a time here. There's no hurry, there is no need to press on unceasingly." He nodded vehemently.

Remy looked at Magnus and clamored out of the sidecar. "You seem a bit hesitant. You maybe not too eager to push on any farther? Maybe you afraid of what you find, neh?"

Magnus snapped his eyes to Remy. "Of course I am. Don't be ridiculous." The valet followed them in with their scant bags. "All of your dirty laundry is there for you to see. Mine is hidden in a mass of forgotten time."

Remy flicked his eyes over his shoulder to the valet who seemed to be listening to the conversation with some interest.

"Head injury," Remy told the youth, tapping his temple. "Car accident."

The valet nodded and looked at Magnus briefly then politely dropped back a few steps. Magnus went to the front desk and tapped his wallet on the surface.

The desk manager looked at him with what Remy could only describe as a "snooty" expression. "May I help you, sir?" he asked in an oily voice. "I have a reservation." Magnus said coolly, despising the man on sight. "Under the name von Isar."

The desk manager raised an eyebrow that seemed to express his doubt, and looked at the register. "I don't seem to see any indication of that name or any such reservation."

Magnus' eyes turned cold. "Perhaps you had best look again."

"Do you have a confirmation number, sir?"

The desk manager sighed.

With a heavy, very exasperated sigh, Magnus snapped open his wallet and took out his credit card. "Here, this should match your records."

The manager took the card and his eyebrows raised again, this time with a bit more of an impressed air. Magnus' platinum card had had that effect on a number of people throughout the trip.

He typed a few things into the computer. "Ah yes, here we are."

Magnus offered the manager a steely smile completely devoid of any feeling.

"Yes, a two bedroom suite. Here are your keys sir. Room 1240A." He handed a few cards to Magnus who accepted them and took back the credit card.

Magnus turned and motioned to Remy. He headed for the elevators with a swift, angry stride. "Let's get out of here before I lose my temper."

Remy snatched one of the key cards for himself and beckoned to the valet. He adjusted his sunglasses and whistled as he kept up with Magnus.

Night fell hard on the streets of Miami. The ocean breeze rustled the palm leaves that lined the avenues. Remy walked in silence. <It's not the heat, it's the humidity,> he thought with a touch of humor. <It's not the heat, it's the people who say that.> He took a deep breath and tugged at his shirt to keep it from sticking to his skin. The weather reminded him of his home in New Orleans. A stray thought crept into his mind, <It shouldn't be this humid so close to the ocean.> He tugged at his shirt again, looking around with a sudden sense of unease.

The streets were deserted. Even the breeze was gone. It was absolutely still. He paused. Remy could safely say that stillness was something he was very uncomfortable with. He felt every nerve come alive, as if expecting something. The silence seemed to close in on him. He steeled himself and looked around him.

Nothing.

He turned to start walking again and found himself face to face with a figure he had never wanted to see again.

"Running again, Remy?" Sinister's voice, smooth as silk, caressed Remy's ears like beautiful music.

But Remy had heard this song before and this time he wasn't interested. "Look, I'm not wit' the X-Men anymore. I'm not goin' back so just forget it. I'm not doin' anyt'ing to dem."

"How sweet," the silky voice was mocking. "How, dare I say it, noble of you to separate yourself from them when you think it will save them." Sinister laughed. "It appears that your time with them has helped you gain a conscience. But I'm afraid it just doesn't suit you, Remy."

Remy backed away, "Forget it. I'm not hurtin' dem and I'll die before I allow you to use me as some tool against 'em."

Sinister tsked him. "That would be a shame. Tell me, Remy, do you honestly think that my interest in you is solely for your relationship with the X-Men? I see they haven't changed. They still think they're the center of the universe and you seem to think so now, too.

"No. No. No. I have been cultivating you, Remy. I have been interested in you and what you have to offer for so much longer. I am so proud of the skills you have acquired. First by the Thieves' Guild and then by the X-Men. And don't think I haven't had anything to do with the paths you have taken. New Orleans was a perfect place for you."

"What are you talking about? What do you want from me?" Remy's voice began to take on a harsh, hysterical edge. He felt like a caged animal, trapped by the hunter. There seemed to be no way of escaping.

"I have had plans for you from the beginning," Sinister's voice remained cool and collected. "I saw to it that Jean-Luc found you. He never told you what happened to your father."

The death white skin, the flashing red eyes, the sneer on his face. Remy was transfixed, Sinister had him completely. Remy backed away from him. "He told me enough! He told me you killed him."

Sinister sucked in his breath. "No. *I* am your father."

Remy felt as though the ground had been pulled out from under his feet. "No. That's not true. That's *impossible!!*"

"Search your feelings you *know* it to be true." Sinister reached out a hand to Remy. He pulled away and fell screaming into an abyss of nightmare. "NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!"

Magnus came bursting in the door to find Remy sitting up in bed screaming his lungs off. "Remy!! REMY!! Wake up!!"

Remy's eyes flew open, for a moment he just looked around him touching the bed, the sheets, the pillow, as if making sure where he was. "I-I was dreaming." He said aloud, as if comforting himself.

"That's right," Magnus' voice was soothing. This was becoming more frequent as the trip progressed. Remy wasn't sleeping well at all any more, and when he did, he had nightmares that shook screams from his tortured soul. "It was just a dream. You're awake now."

"I dreamt Sinister was my father." Remy's voice was low.

"You also fell asleep watching *The Empire Strikes Back*." Magnus said with a sardonic grin. A low moan escaped his friend. "LeBeau, you've got Sinister on the brain and it isn't getting any better."

"Tell me about it." Remy slid out of bed and wandered into the main suite. Magnus followed. "This can't go on much longer, you're going to drive yourself crazy."

"I wonder if dat's what he wants." Remy went to the wet bar and poured himself a shot of bourbon.

Magnus frowned. "That isn't going to help, you know."

Remy downed the drink and slammed the glass back on the bar. "Nothin's helpin'!! Or haven't you noticed?"

"I've noticed you've started slowly killing yourself trying to drown out the dreams and the memories."

"Yeah, well," Remy stubbornly stared at the counter top. He picked up the bottle and began pouring again. "Whatever works, neh?"

Magnus' hand clamped over his wrist. "It's not working, in case you haven't noticed. And don't you dare use Sinister as an excuse to destroy yourself."

Remy jerked away and went to sit down.

Magnus poured the bottle down the sink.

"What does it matter?"

Magnus looked up. "You tell me. You're the one that wanted to do this."

Remy looked at his friend. "How do you keep the visions out?"

"I don't. I face them. Every day and every night, I face them. I did what I did and I have to live with it. I can't hide from myself, and neither can you."

Remy leaned forward and covered his eyes.

"It's hard, doin' this."

Magnus took a breath. "That's what makes it worth it."

Remy barked a harsh laugh. "Dat's a good one, Lensherr. Worth what? You so lost in your past you hold everyone you meet at arm's length. The only reason I managed to find my way inside your walls is 'cause you don't even remember why you built dem! You so tormented by what you done you built a space station and separated yourself from the rest of the world! Is dat better? Is dat what I have to look forward to? Complete and utter isolation?"

Magnus ran his fingers through his hair. "I can't even tell you. I don't know why I did those things. I can scarcely remember the reasons for anything. I remember the pain. You know the first memories that came back to me were all visions of death? All of them. What kind of life did I live, Remy? What made me the person I became. I had to have known some joy, I had to have. But I don't remember it. Maybe I really never knew any joy. Maybe all I had was the isolation because there was nothing left for me! I lost everything I ever

cared about. I didn't have anyone to stand by me and help me face my demons. I had to beat them on my own."

"But you didn't!" Remy said forcefully. "You just as much a victim of your past as I am. You ran away, too. You pushed people away who wanted to be with you and help you. Man, I know you had it tough. Sometimes, I'm amazed at what you've lived through. But if you t'ink you beat whatever was holding onto your soul, den you as big a fool as I am."

Magnus looked into the blazing red eyes of his young friend. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I haven't really beaten anything at all. Maybe I was kidding myself. If that's true, then maybe this is my chance for redemption as much as it is yours."

A silence fell between them, so loud it was almost deafening; so still, it constricted and bound the two men to themselves. Magnus looked at his friend and saw a young man ashamed of his past and afraid of his future. Remy saw in Magnus a man so separated from his past that he desperately grasped for any future he might find. It was like looking into shaded reflections in a mirror. It was like walking along a path to damnation and looking for the one thing needed to gain absolution. Magnus knew he was going to start seeing things in himself that we would despise, yet still, he kept going. And looking at Remy he saw that this young man had prepared himself for the worst fate he could envision, and yet, he remained to see it through.

He stood up. "We're too brave, LeBeau."

Remy looked up. "Hmm? What do you mean? I feel frozen inside I'm so afraid of what's coming."

His voice was bitter.

Magnus permitted a grin to twitch at the corners of his mouth. He knew more than anyone what it meant to have Remy actually admit fear. He knew he was not quite at that point himself yet. "Exactly. Fear makes a man smart. We're here. It was easy up to this point. Once we start to the Bermuda Triangle, it's going to get much harder. We won't be able to run away from each other. We have a long, hard road ahead of us, my friend. Go back to bed, Remy." His voice suddenly sounded very tired.

Remy remained awake for a few hours. He pondered his decisions. He looked out the window to the pounding surf of the Atlantic. <They keep coming, the waves,> he thought. <They were there before me, goin' in and out, and they'll be there when I'm gone.>

He made a fist and rested it on the glass.

"What does it all mean?" As ever, his thoughts turned to Rogue. "How does she live with the things she done? Man, I could use some advice. What do I do? How do I make things better?" As ever, all he received in answer was silence.

 

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