Crazy Mind, Broken Heart - REVIEW THIS STORY

Written by Nicole Wagner
Last updated: 07/09/2007 08:17:39 PM

Chapter 5

Alright a week and a half had passed since he sent his letter. He wrote it all out in a code that the Guild used in order to get it past Sinister… just in case he was reading his mail. Remy would be lucky if the letter had even got out of the hospital. He’d be even luckier if his father could actually READ the letter. His hands were shaking so badly, that his handwriting was close to being illegible.

Already, Remy was discovering his limitations, thanks to the torture that Sinister had inflicted upon his body. He found himself bedridden and unlike when he had the angina attacks, he did not recover in a few days. In fact, he did not recover at all. The man was right about his quality of life, it was dismal. Even rolling over to his side made him break a sweat!

“Can’ stand dis…” He muttered to himself, trying to sit up a bit more in bed. His back was starting to ache badly, along with his legs. Muscles cramps were common with his current condition, or so that’s what the doctor of this hospital told him. Because of the sharp pains he felt in his body, the nurse would give him a Morphine patch every six hours. Those patches were a godsend, because without them, he would be brought to tears or screaming in complete agony.

“Mr. LeBeau?”

His red on black eyes looked over as that small, brunette nurse walked into his room, her hands moving top his shoulders to help him adjust himself in his bed. After being thrown in a mental institution, being in this hospital was not so bad. At least the staff seemed nice. He swallowed hard, as the nurse helped him into a more comfortable position. In his mind, it was a pathetic sight. Oh how he had fallen.

“Merci, Madame.” His voice, once sounding as smooth as silk, now sounded tired and worn. Sometimes his voice even gave away the face he was in pain. Swallowing hard, he looked over at his nurse, eyes barely open. “De pain… it’s comin’ back… please…”

“I can give you another patch to relieve the pain in ten minutes, Mr. LeBeau. Until then, you have to try and wait it out.” She gave him a sad smile, fluffing the pillows behind his back and head. The young man had only been here a week, always so sickly looking, and with long, white hair. His eyes, those demon like eyes frightened her, but because of his condition, her fear of him lessened. “We will be bringing you into the physical therapy room in an hour or so to exercise your limbs. That should also help lessen the pain you feel.”

“Great. T’ank you…” He HATED waiting for more pain medication. Sometimes it would get so bad, he would be reduced to sobbing in agony, and it took A LOT to make him cry like that. Plus having his limbs manipulated to exercise them just made him feel helpless, like some doll. Remy looked down at the scars that covered his arms. There were so many scars on his body, now. Perhaps his body finally matched how he looked on the inside.

“Okay… now why don’t you read your book, and I will come back in a few minutes to give your morphine patch.” She patted his shoulder and left the room, leaving him alone, with a book in his lap.

“Oui, t’anks.” He spoke dully as she left his room, hands shaking as he picked up the book in his lap. It was some mystery novel that the nurse brought in from the library. It helped to read something, even look out the window, anything to keep his mind busy, and to not think about the pain he was currently in.

Remy turned the page of the book, only to hear a soft tap on the doorway of his room. He did not bother to look up, thinking it was the nurse again. She probably forgot to tell him something stupid like when she was going to give him a bath, or ask if he wanted some orange juice to drink.

“I’m good, t’ank you, ma’am.” His voice again sounded dull, flat even. He could not stand the bubbly nurse sometimes. There were things he wanted to try to do on his own, but she refused to let him. If anything, he could not stand that she made him feel a though he had no dignity left as a man.

“Last I checked, I wasn’ a femme.”

That voice… Remy lifted his head up as fast as he could. Standing in the doorway of his room was his beloved Papa, Jean Luc LeBeau himself. He was dressed in a green dress shirt, with a black tie, and black slacks. Remy always admired his Papa, always a good sense of fashion and capable of blending in anywhere, never giving away that he truly was The King of Thieves. He watched as the man slowly approached his bed and took a seat by his feet, looking at him with such sad eyes.

“Mon Dieu, what happened to you, chile?” His voice was filled with concern for his youngest son. He had never seen Remy like this, shaking, pale, cheeks sunken in, hair turned completely white, and scars covering what appeared to be his entire body.

“I been to de depths o’ hell… still tryin’ at claw my way back, I guess.” He tried to flash his Papa a smile, but every muscle in his body was hurting at this point. Remy managed to close his book and rest it in his lap, looking at Jean Luc. He honestly did not know what to say at this point. He had not seen his Papa in so long, and to suddenly drop his condition in his lap just felt wrong to Remy. His lips started to quiver, trying to find words to speak to Jean Luc, and trying to not give in to the pain he was in.

“I can see dat, chile.” He noticed that Remy’s lips were shivering. It reminded Jean Luc of the time Remy broke his ankle trying to sneak into the New Orleans Saints training camp. He refused to give into pain, he refused to cry. Because of it his lips would shiver, despite the tough look on his face.

As he did when he broke his ankle, Jean Luc moved himself so that he was now sitting next Remy’s waist. Without another word, he wrapped his arms around his son’s fragile looking frame and just hugged him. As soon as his arms were around his son, Remy broke down and began sobbing brokenly in his arms, just as he had done as a child.

“It’s gonna be okay, chile, I promise. Henri talkin’ to you’re doctor, getting’ de release forms for me to sign. We gonna getcha home, an’ comfortable again.” Jean Luc continued to hold his son as he cried, his hand rubbing his back, trying to soothe him. “I also managed to speak to yer Nurse… she should be comin’ back in real soon for some pain medication. You’re gonna be okay.”

Remy just buried his face in his father’s shoulder and sobbed. He was happy his father actually came to get him, that he would be going home, and far away from this hospital as soon as possible. At the same time, he felt depressed. His Papa, his family… they would have to care for him from now on. He’d be a burden, his condition would effect their lives. A doubled edged sword, if there ever was one. He could not even lift his arms up to hug his father back!

“I… I can’ … I don’ wanna burden you an’ Henri.” Remy managed to choke between sobs. His hands shaking so badly as he tried to get his body to work, and hug his father. He finally managed to get his arms around his Papa, hugging him after a few minutes.

“I won’ hear any o’ dat, chile!” Jean Luc slowly pulled away from Remy, looking straight into his son’s eyes. He moved his hand over the side of his son’s face, trying to wipe away a strand of tears. “Since you was a boy, I always told you dat you are family, an’ family takes care o’ one an’ other! You ain’ a burden, Remy, never were, never will be.” He sighed, looking down and away from his son for a brief moment. “I wished you’d tell me who did dis to you, chile.”

As much as Remy wanted revenge, as much as he wanted Sinister to pay for all he had done to his body and mind, he could not bring himself to tell his Papa. He did not want anyone else involved in this mess, or anyone he loved to get hurt. His own eyes moved to the floor. Did Jean Luc understand that he was not telling him that information out of love and respect for him?

His eyes suddenly looked up at his Papa as the older man took a strand of his white hair and looked at it. “It’s not a good look for me.” He tried to flash his Papa a smile, the kind that was almost a trademark to him. “I could go for a good haircut.”

“As soon as we get you home, I’ll call de barber an’ get you an appointment.” Jean Luc smiled. He knew his son was trying to avoid telling him what happened to his hair. Jean Luc just nodded his head, if it made Remy feel better to change the subject, then he would not question it. “I’ll go pack your t’ings, an’ den we’ll be on our way.”

“Don’ bother… everyt’ing in dis room is a hand-me down o’ some kinda. You know, hospital provided.” He sighed, suddenly looking down. The pain was terrible, and he probably had a good six minutes or so left before he was allowed another morphine patch. “I don’ wan’ anything dat reminds me o’ any hospital, Papa. I jus’ wanna go home as quickly as possible.”

Jean Luc could only nod his head at his son’s request. After all that his son had been through, all that he spoke of in his letter to him, it was no wonder he wanted to get home as soon as possible.

“Oui, I understand, son. I’m gonna go out in de hall an’ talk to Henri, den we’ll get you outta here, okay?” He gently rubbed Remy’s back before standing back up and heading out the door. He looked down the hall, seeing his oldest son arguing with the doctor.

“What do you mean you don’ know what’s wrong wit’ him!?” Henri was shouting, grabbing the doctor by the collar of his shirt. “You said over de phone to my Father dat his heart caused his condition! Now you telling’ me you ain’ sure!?”

“I told you, his other doctor, Doctor Essex, said he had a heart condition when he came in. After I examined your brother, I discovered that the weakness in his muscles was not related to any heart condition!” The doctor frowned at Henri, his hands trying to pull free of the man’s grip. “He needs more testing to discover what it is, and from what I can tell, it appears to be some type of MS or nerve damage in his body! He needs long term care!”

“Den he will get long term care at our home, monsieur.” Jean Luc walked over to the two men. He shot Henri a look that made him release the young doctor. “We will hire a private nurse for him, an’ take him to any doctors appointments he may need. He jus’ wants to go home, sir. An’ we wish to bring him home as soon as possible.”

The doctor shook his head at Jean Luc and then shrugged his shoulders. “Fine, if you have that kind of money, and those resources, then I can release your son. I am just warning you, his condition will not just be financially draining, but emotionally as well. I hope you can handle such a responsibility.”

“Trust me, I can handle my son’s condition.” Jean Luc narrowed his eyes at the doctor, watching him walk away to get the release forms and prescriptions that Remy would need. “Henri… would you mind stayin’ with Remy while I get all de paperwork an’ de car?”

“Oui, Papa.” Henri gave his father a smile, and then headed towards his younger brother’s hospital room. Remy had moved back on his side, his hand dangling down a bit off the bed. He had never seen his little brother this bad, before. Sighing, Henri sat on the side of Remy’s bed, helping him to sit up. “We’re gonna go home, Remy… it’s goin’ t’ be some trip. T’ink you can handle a six hour car ride?”

“I don’ care how long dis takes, Henri… “ He spoke softly, allowing Henri to help him sit back up. “I jus’ wanna go home. I wanna sleep in my own bed, in my own room.”

“Tante Mattie already fixin’ y’ bed sheets, getting’ ready for y’ t’ come home.” He smiled at his younger brother. Though they were not blood related, he loved Remy as though he were. He gave Remy a gentle pad on the shoulder, seeing a nurse push a wheelchair into the room. “Guess Papa got dem papers fast. You ready t’ go?”

“You gotta ask me dat?” Remy tried to smirk, but the pain was becoming severe. His face was starting to show the strain, as Henri got off the bed and began to pull the blankets off of his body.

“Wait!” The nurse gave a gentle smile to Henri as she wanted over to Henri. She pulled back the waistband of Remy’s sweatpants, removing a patch that was on his hip. “I’m going to give your brother a Duragesic Fentyal patch. It will last twice as long as the morphine patches you have been given. After the twelve hours are up, you can put on a regular morphine patch, again. Your father has a prescription for it, so you should be okay, Mr. LeBeau.”

“Merci, chere.” Remy looked away from the nurse and his brother as she put a new patch on his hip, then pulled his pants back up.

It felt humiliating that he could not do this himself, that he could not do ANYTHING for himself anymore. His red on black eyes slowly moved back to his brother, who was helping him into the wheel chair. “helping”? More like picking him up out of bed and placing him in it.

With his hands folded in his lap, Henri began to wheel Remy out of the hospital. Finally, he was free of these damned hospitals, free of Sinister… But while he realized he was free of those places, he realized he was still a prisoner… to his own body.

Henri noticed the dull look on his brother’s face. It was so different than the smiling, care-free face Remy was known to have. This one looked worn, riddled with pain, and just so depressed. Patting his brother’s shoulder, he continued to wheel him through the hospital.

“Dat stuff is startin’ at work fast…” Remy could not help but yawn, just as Henri had wheeled him out of the hospital, and towards his father’s car. “Still keep de ol’ beauty in good shape, neh?”

Jean Luc still owned and drove a 1938 Lincoln Zephyr HB four door sedan, painted hunter green, and with tinted windows. It was the first car Remy had ever been in, and seeing it again brought back many good memories for him. A smile curled up on his face, watching Jean Luc getting out of the driver’s side of the car, and walking towards Remy.

“I’m gonna let Henri drive, so I can sit wit’ you, son.” Jean Luc smiled, as he opened the door to the passenger side of the car. “Do you wanna try to get in yourself, or would you like some help?”

“De medication already kickin’ in, Papa…” Remy continued to smile up at him, his eyes appearing a bit tired. “T’ink it be best if you did ‘elp me.” At least Jean Luc asked if he needed help, and didn’t assume that he did, like Henri. Then again… he needed it, anyway. But asking gave him some sort of control, control he now lacked. “T’ank you, Papa.”

“It’s nothing’ , son.” Jean Luc smiled as he helped Remy up and into the car. Once Remy was inside and buckled up, he shut the door and turned back to Henri. “You don’ mind drivin’ , do you?”

“Papa, we talked about dis before we got here, I don’ mind it at all!” With a grin on his face, Henri made his way to the driver’s side of the car, while his father followed to get into the passenger’s side. “Mon fere needs you now, more den ever.”

“Non, Henri. Remy needs all o‘ us, right now.” A sigh escaped Jean Luc’s lips as he started to get into the back of the car, sitting next to his son. As soon as he put on his seatbelt and shut the door, Remy moved over to him, resting his head on his shoulder. “You jus’ rest, son. We’ll be home before you know it.”

“Can hardly wait.” His own voice sounded so exhausted, probably because the morphine was making him sleepy. Closing his demon like eyes, Remy just rest his head on his Papa’s shoulder, listening to the old car start up and drive away from the hospital, and towards home.