ladydeathfaerie (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ladydeathfaerie) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
marysuevirus2024-09-20 09:33 am
ladydeathfaerie) wrote in marysuevirus2024-09-20 09:33 am
Among the Strong
Title: Among the Strong
Chapter Thirty Two: Discourse
Fandom: the Marvel universe
Rating: 18 and up
Warnings: graphic violence, language, sex, dark themes, anything else i can toss in.
Disclaimer: the recognizable characters and places contained herein are the property of Marvel. i'm merely borrowing for the sake of entertainment. no money is being made from this venture. Haley belongs todazzledfirestar Morgan belongs toginevra Roxxy belongs tonanaeanaven Jehnna belongs to silverfox_chan and Dare belongs to me. the concept and title of The Mary Sue Virus are used with permission from dazzledfirestar .
Author's Notes: this is almost entirely Daz's fault. okay. so it really isn't. its actually almost 100% my fault. Daz just did a whole lot of encouraging. this fic is going to be kind of dark, so please keep that in mind while reading.
Among the Strong - the index
When they'd suggested she move into one of the suites, she hadn't realized she was going to be subjected to crimes against her sanity. If she'd known, she might have turned them down. As it was, she was stuck here now.
Summers had escorted the two of them down to the sub-basement level where the suites had been set up. She'd thought that maybe they'd move her into the suite meant for her and Remy. But that hadn't happened. Instead, she was sitting on a large, soft as a cloud blue couch in the living room of the suite that had been designated for Haley and Scott's use. And there was a mad shuffle to set it up so that both she and Haley could use it.
Other than the couch, there were matched chairs that faced the couch. A modern coffee table of sleek metal and glass and a single wooden end table between the two chairs that somehow matched the coffee table despite having none of the same components. There were paintings on the walls of snow-capped mountains with a glowing sun rising or setting behind them as well as gentle ocean waves rolling up onto a sandy shore peppered with rocks. Smaller pictures showed rustic cabins and towering pine trees or neat rows of houses lining a winding lane with a large body of water behind them.
A rug covered the floor under the couch and chairs. It was a pale blue, the color of a husky's eyes, with some kind of interwoven pattern done in white, soft gold, and darker blue. The lamps were stylish, with gleaming bases in cream and peach, the shades topping them an icy blue that cast soft light around the area. All in all, it looked very comfortable.
Haley sat on the couch beside Dare, Emilia cradled gently in her arms. The baby was sleeping peacefully, her tiny face a picture of perfection. Haley was watching her daughter with a look that was filled with love and adoration. And fear. There was no missing the fear. She wanted to say something, wanted to offer an assurance that the son-of-a-bitch wouldn't come take their children. But she couldn't. Because she knew it was inevitable. It made her wish she wouldn't go into labor just so he couldn't have her baby.
"Ow. Damn it. That hurt." The words came from the smaller bedroom. The room that was supposed to have been Emilia's nursery. Instead, it was being converted into a bedroom for her. She still didn't know how she felt about it. She couldn't figure out why she'd said yes to moving down here in the first place. Hell, she was surprised Haley had asked. After their last encounter, Dare had been certain Haley wouldn't want anything to do with her.
A glance at her companion told her that Haley was very much attuned to the owner of that voice. Even if she wasn't actually looking toward the bedroom, Dare could tell she was paying attention. It was there in the way her shoulders were tensed. In the way her lower lip was caught between her teeth. And in the faint dusting of pink that stained her cheeks.
Damn, Haley had it bad.
Dare supposed she couldn't blame the other woman too much. He was all well-honed muscle and much-deserved arrogance wrapped up in a nice package. The line of his jaw and the curve of his cheekbone suggested he was fair of face.That was hard to judge without being able to see his eyes. And she supposed she could admit that his lips looked kissable and his ass was tight enough to bounce quarters off of. He was easy, even pleasant, to look upon because he would never be a threat to her. He'd never be interested in her.
"Jesus, I'm an idiot," Haley muttered.
"You are not," Dare responded immediately, earning her a slightly confused look from the woman beside her. She supposed she'd earned it. She hadn't been very sociable lately. Then Haley shook her head and her eyes went to the open doorway.
"I really am. I was stupid and I fell in love with him. Despite the fact that I'm married to Johnny and he's married to Jean. I always knew..." Her voice trailed off but that didn't stop Dare from hearing the sadness. The wistfulness. The... yearning in it.
"Bullshit. You didn't always know that we would make it home. None of us did. We hoped. But we didn't know. I think you should cut yourself some slack," she responded. Haley stared at her again.
"This is... not what I expected from you. Are you okay?" Haley asked.
"We both know I'm not. But I don't have the time or the energy to talk about my many issues. We're talking about how you made the very best you could out of a terrible situation not of your own making," Dare responded.
"Dare, be real. I fell in love with him," Haley repeated. There was more emphasis on it this time, as if she'd done a bad thing. Dare shifted slightly, looking for a more comfortable positiion, and shot Haley a look.
"And? Is it so terrible?" Dare asked. Haley gaped at her as if she'd grown a second head. "You can't control your emotions. And it wasn't like you made a conscious decision or anything. You were trapped in a room with him. I would probably have done the same."
"You would not have done the same. You don't even like him," Haley accused.
Dare glanced toward the open door and stared a moment. Took note of the noises coming from the other room. When she returned her attention to Haley, she lowered her voice so that only the other woman could hear her. "I never said I didn't like Summers. The man is very pretty. Easier on the eyes than he has a right to be with his assholier than thou attitude. Which, by the way, he is allowed to have. Gods know I've given him enough headaches," Dare told her, then shook her head. "The point I'm making here is you got to spend an entire year locked in a room with a hot guy who, I suspect, has a really great personality. Its only logical you would fall in love with him."
Haley gaped at Dare, mouth slightly open and eyes wide with disbelief. Apparently, saying she thought the man was easy on the eyes was some end of the world, cataclysmic event.
Dare frowned. "If you ever tell Summers I said I thought he was pretty, I'll roast you."
That comment brought a soft laugh up Haley's throat and some of the tension slid out of her spine. "Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me," she promised.
Dare nodded at that, then leaned back against the couch and closed her eyes. Gods, she was exhausted. Everything seemed to tire her out, even being social. All she wanted to do was sleep. It had been something of a struggle to make it to the sub-basement level without falling over. The last thing she needed was Haley and Summers worrying over her like mother hens.
"It doesn't hurt that it was some of the best sex I've ever had," Haley said, voice low enough that she wouldn't be overheard. There was satisfaction in those words. Good. It suggested that Dare hadn't lost her position as the team's resident head case. There was room for only one of them on Purple Team. "You have no idea just how hard it was to keep my hands off him."
Dare made a sound that might have been laughter or curiosity, but it was indistinct and soft. She could feel sleep stalking her from the shadows and it was inching ever closer. She was half asleep as it was. A nap was sounding better by the second.
"There. The bed is together and ready for use." Summers' voice filling the room around her kept her from sliding into the welcoming arms of Morpheus. She was tempted to tell him off for waking her up, then decided against it. There was no point because he wouldn't be bothered by it in the slightest. "There are a few more pieces of furniture to put together, then the room is ready."
"De bed not as grand as de one in de other suite." And there was the crime against her sanity. Dare's eyes opened to find that both Summers and Remy had joined them in the living area. Scott was in a t-shirt and jeans, the material on both worn thin by repeated wearing and washing. They were obviously old and well-loved. She secretly admired the way the t-shirt stretched over his chest and showed off muscles normally hidden under stuffy clothes. And the jeans clung to the curve of his ass and the swell of his thighs in ways that were, quite frankly, obscene. "But it soft and comfortable."
Reluctantly, her gaze slid to where Remy stood. He wore cut-offs that stopped mid-thigh. She remembered how it felt to have his legs twined with hers, how the muscles shifted and flexed with each move he made. His tank top was tighter than should be considered legal, and it clung almost lovingly to his chest. She swore he was dressed like that intentionally. Angry with her inability to stop thirsting after him, she dragged her gaze away before she started fantasizing about the sweat beaded up on his brow. The problem with that was she was gifted with Summers wiping sweat off his brow with the edge of his t-shirt. She caught sight of a flat stomach and toned abs before he dropped his shirt back into place.
Well, fuck.
Her attention came back to Haley, who was doing her best not to look at Scott. But Dare saw the way her eyes flicked in his direction. More than once. And there was, again, color in her face that suggested she was flustered by what she saw. Which meant she liked what she saw. It was nice to know that she was thirsting after Scott as hard as Dare was thirsting after Remy.
Dare chastised herself for her thoughts. She needed to stop and put the past year behind her. This was the real world. Here in the real world, she didn't get to live out that fantasy. She owed Logan more loyalty. He'd stood by her through all of her shit. He'd never once held the fact that he wasn't Dee's biological father against either of them. He didn't deserve to be treated like second best simply because she'd never really left that fantasy behind. And, in all honesty, she wasn't pretty enough to stand at Remy's side. She'd never be beautiful enough or good enough to deserve that. She didn't even come close to second best.
She needed to rebuild her walls. Make them taller. Thicker. Make it impossible for him to reach her heart again. Because she knew, no matter what he said, he'd walk away from her one day. He'd get bored of playing house and he'd go back to his real life. And she wouldn't survive that if it happened.
"How are you feeling, Haley? You seem a little tired," Summers' voice cut across Dare's thoughts and brought her back to the here and now. He'd closed the distance between himself and the couch. She found him squatting in front of Haley, his gaze intent on the redhead's face. One hand rested on her knee, the other was settled on the baby they'd created. There was such a soft look on his face. Such longing. She didn't need to see behind his glasses to know that was the truth. And seeing him look at Haley like that, hearing the warmth and the love in his voice, the genuine emotion, left her feeling exposed and brittle. Like her heart was going to shatter in her chest.
"I'm okay," Haley replied, the same depth of emotion in her voice. Dare looked away, letting her gaze focus on the pattern on the rug at her feet. She refused to cry, instead putting more energy into her walls so that the desire, the longing, didn't touch her.
"Come on, Haley. I can tell you're tired," Scott responded. Jesus, his voice was so soft and so filled with warmth that it physically hurt. Dare's chest hurt with what would never be for her. "Maybe you should go nap. You can put Emilia down and I'll stay and keep an ear out for her."
"Really, Scott. I'm okay," Haley assured him.
He remained silent for a good while, prompting Dare to steal a glance in his direction. He looked like he didn't believe her. But he eventually gave a nod and offered her a smile. Then he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her lips, something sweet and chaste, before pulling back. "Okay. We're going to go finish up the furniture. If you need anything, just call for me."
There was such tenderness in his voice. Dare hated herself for the spear of jealousy that stabbed through her. She had no right to be jealous of Haley. It wasn't her friend's fault that she was fucked up and wrong. She dragged her attention to the closest painting so that she wouldn't accidentally witness anymore tenderness.
The touch of Haley's hand on her knee startled her into giving her attention to the other woman. There was a look in her friend's eyes that made Dare want to cry. She shoved that urge down and told it very sternly to fuck off. "You know its okay to want him, Dare. You know that, right? And you can enjoy the pretty all you want."
"Its not my pretty to enjoy," she whispered. "And I can want him all I want. But that doesn't mean I get to have him."
"You didn't see the way he looked at you, Dare. He looks at you like you hung the moon and stars," Haley said. There was a pause while Haley stared at her. "You need to let him in, Dare. Its obvious you love him. And he obviously loves you. Its killing him to be in the same room with you when you won't look at him or talk to him. What harm could there be in just letting him in?"
Dare shook her head. "Just let it go, Haley. Please?" She kept her voice steady and even. Tried not to sound like she was desperate for Haley to drop the subject. Even if she was.
"You're my friend, Dare. A part of my family. I love you. I want to see you happy," Haley responded. She reached out and settled one of her hands on Dare's hand. The weight of her touch pressed Dare's palm more firmly against the swell of her belly. It surprised her because she hadn't been aware she'd put her hands there. "He loves you, too. He wants to make you happy. Let him. Just... let him in and let him make you happy."
"Do you really think I'm allowed to be happy?" Dare asked quietly. She could hear Remy's voice from the other room, too low for her to make out any words. That didn't matter. The sound of it was enough to see her slipping over the edge. And she couldn't She just couldn't. That way was madness. She threw more energy at her walls to try and keep him away. To protect what little sanity she had left.
"Dare..." Haley's voice trailed off, confusion and disbelief lacing that single word.
"What did Summers mean when he said he can tell you're tired?" Dare asked, letting her gaze rest on Haley's face. It was, in part, to see if she could find the tiredness in the other woman's face. But part of it was to ensure Haley knew the subject was closed. Her friend stared at her a moment or two, then shook her head. "You do not look tired. But he sounded certain. How did he know?"
Haley frowned and glanced at the open doorway into the other bedroom. When she brought her attention back to Dare, there was a look in her eyes that said she was weighing her options. Finally, she sighed and made a motion with her hand from herself to the bedroom. "There's a link," she said bluntly.
Dare studied her a moment. "A link? Like the one with Johnny?"
"Yes. That kind of link," Haley confirmed. Dare took a moment to consider that. She remembered well how Haley had formed a link with both Piotr and Johnny. And she remembered how, when she'd chosen Johnny over Piotr, the link with the Russian had started fading. That thought made her frown. They'd been together for so long and Dare had kind of gotten used to Burnout being a pain in her ass. If he and Haley split...
"Is your link with Johnny fading?"
"No. Its as strong as ever," Haley told her. Color dusted her cheeks again, this time stronger than it had been before. "I'm sure he got a lot of stuff he didn't want to get when I was in labor with Emilia. I won't blame him if he hates me for it."
Dare frowned. "Fuck him if he's going to throw you over for this."
Haley blinked, apparently taken aback by the vehemence in Dare's voice. Then she shook her head. "He's got every right to throw me over for what happened. I--"
Dare shot her a look that saw Haley shutting up fast. There might have been a little fear in her green eyes, but Dare wasn't paying attention. Her temper was suddenly firmly in control. "If he throws you aside because of what happened, then he's an idiot, a chicken shit, and stupid on top of it all. And I'll burn him to ash. You deserve better than that shit!" she snapped.
The moment of anger was gone as quickly as it had come, and the loss of it left Dare feeling hollow and empty. For a moment, it had felt as if her blood had been boiling with that sudden surge of rage. The loss of it was more than she was prepared to handle. She found herself sagged back against the couch, Haley's hands on her face as the other woman stared at her with concern darkening the green of her eyes. "Dare? Are you okay? You almost fell over. What happened? Maybe I should get Remy."
"No," she said, voice a hoarse whisper in the silence of the room. "I'm fine. Just tired."
"You don't look good," Haley insisted. "Let me go get Remy."
"I said I'm fine," Dare repeated. She wasn't fine. It felt like someone had smacked her in the head with a hammer. But she wasn't going to admit any such thing to Haley. The other woman was already worried and hovering. And she had her own issues to deal with. Plus, Emilia was only a few days old. Haley's attention needed to be on her daughter. Not on Dare's stupid ass. "So the link between you and that dumb ass is just as strong as ever. What about with him?" she motioned limply toward the other room, where Remy and Scott were busy building furniture.
"Dare," Haley sighed. She obviously didn't like the blatant change of subject and probably wanted to push the issue. After a few moments, she glanced at the doorway leading into that other room and nodded. "Yes. Its just as strong as the link with Johnny."
"And... what? They feel what you feel? You feel what they feel?" She thought it worked something like that, but she hadn't ever really asked in depth. But she knew the link was how Haley had known Johnny was still alive when Doom had nabbed the Four way back when. The same had been true for Johnny just this past year when it was Haley that had gotten grabbed.
"Yeah. That's pretty much how it works," Haley agreed. She looked at Dare a moment, then frowned. "Does it not work that way for you with the links you have to Morgan and Remy?"
Dare frowned at the question. She'd never really thought about it. After several seconds of silence, she shrugged a shoulder. "I mean... I guess? I've never really considered it. I've been linked to Morgan most of my life. I don't remember feeling anything Morgan felt. But I think its more that Faye takes things to Morgan that I think or feel or experience. Faye doesn't bring any of Morgan's things to me. And that doesn't mean I can't reach down the link and see how Morgan is. I just... don't."
The last time she'd reached down the link, she'd gotten a face full of how much Morgan loved Remy. She hadn't wanted to attempt such a thing again.
"And the link with Remy?" Haley prompted. Dare considered it, looking for an answer. Which took much longer than she thought it should. Her brain was super fuzzy and the exhaustion was taking hold with a vengeance. She couldn't remember the last time she hadn't felt tired.
"I can feel what he's feeling, if I pay close attention to the link. Pretty sure its the same for him," she said. She'd barely finished her sentence when she let go a big, big yawn. "Dunno. Never asked him."
She took note, around the way her eyelids kept trying to close, that Haley was staring at her with undisguised concern. Dare tried to assure her she was fine, but all that came out was another yawn. And, to be fair, the couch was really comfortable. Maybe she could close her eyes for just a moment...
The scent of something spicy tickled her nose and pulled her away from sleep. It didn't take long to recognize that spicy scent and she struggled to open her eyes. Along with the spice came the odor of sweat. And she thought she caught a faint whiff of fear. But she brushed that aside as the result of a sleep-drugged brain. For a moment or more, she considered snuggling into the head wrapped around her. But that died when she heard the conversation happening around her.
"... don't think she should fall asleep that easily and it worries me." That was Haley's voice and the worry was blatant in it.
The grip on her tightened. "Dere definitely somet'ing not right." The same worry she'd heard in Haley's voice echoed in Remy's.
Dare struggled in his hold in an effort to throw it off. "Put me down," she ordered, though there was little force in her words, said as they were through a yawn.
"You fall asleep on de couch," Remy responded. "Gon' put you in bed."
"Put me down," she insisted again. This time, there was a little more force behind her words. "I can walk."
"You fall asleep on de couch, petit," he repeated. She could feel that he was already on his way to the bedroom that was meant to be hers. She wanted to force him to put her down, but she couldn't make her arms or legs move well enough to do so. "So I'm gon' carry you to bed."
Dare wanted to fight with him, but the exhaustion was already pulling her under again. She didn't let herself snuggle into his hold. She didn't have the strength for it. She did, however, have enough strength to give him a reminder. "Not your petite. Don't call me that."
"Whatever you say, petit," he replied softly. And then it didn't matter anymore because she lost her fight with the exhaustion and it claimed her consciousness as a prize.
~*~
The door to the kitchen swung open to the sound of pans slamming around and a stream of muttered words that sounded as if they were being dragged up from the bowels of Hell. And not all of them were in English. Heaving a soft sigh, he stepped into the kitchen and made sure the door swung shut on silent hinges behind him. For several long moments, he watched the other person slam things down on the counters. After a litany of words which he didn't understand but was sure were little more than curse words, he moved further into the kitchen.
"Clearly you have things you need to discuss. I am willing to listen, if you wish to speak of them to me," he offered.
The banging stopped as the person standing at the counter turned to look at him. Eyes that normally held laughter and love were filled with worry and dread. Behind him, there were various ingredients spread out across the counter, along with several pans. "You sure you wan' make such an offer, mon ami?"
"You look as if you need someone to whom you can tell your problems. I am willing to listen. Perhaps I can even offer some help," Kurt responded softly. One hand motioned to the mess on the counter behind Remy. "I have never seen you treat food with such contempt and disrespect. It is obvious something troubles you."
He watched as Remy turned away from him and stared at the counter before him. His hands came to rest on the edge of the counter and, slowly, his head tipped forward until it hung in defeat. "Don' t'ink dere anything you can do to help wit' dis problem," he admitted softly.
"You are speaking of Dare?" Kurt asked lightly. Remy nodded, one hand lifting to run almost angrily through his hair. The length was left in disarray. Kurt suspected it reflected the state of the man's mind. Kurt glided closer on silent feet until he was mere inches away from his friend and fellow X-Man. "I have heard rumors. Are they true?"
"Depend on de rumor, hmmm?" Remy lifted his head and settled his regard on the various food products before him.
"She continues to avoid you. She has you locked from her mind. She disappears and no one seems capable of finding her." Kurt paused here and waited for some response. Nothing was immediately forthcoming, so he prodded a little more. "There are others. I can go on, if you wish."
"Dose not rumors," Remy responded. Kurt heard, in those three simple words, a whole world of emotions. Remy was in emotional turmoil and had no idea how to resolve it. "She keep me locked out. An' she just... wastin' away. Dere not'ing I can do to change her mind."
"So you come to the kitchen to solve your problems with food?" Kurt asked.
"Gon' make her somet'ing to eat. She need to eat. I can't decide what to make," Remy admitted. Kurt glanced at the items Remy had spread across the counter. Carefully, he started rearranging the food stuffs until a package of beef was surrounded by various vegetables and a few containers of broth.
"Stew. Thick and hearty. It will help," Kurt said simply. He began picking up the other items in order to return them to their places in the cupboards and refrigerator. Once done, he opened the freezer and pulled out a package of frozen bread. It was the kind that baked up crusty and rustic-looking. "And bread. A meal meant to fill the belly and help speed the replenishment of energy."
"Stew gon' take a while," the other man said, hands already sifting through pots and pans to find the one he wanted. The others were stacked up and returned to their home. Then he retrieved a cutting board, a knife, and a few other utensils. Lastly, he raided the pantry and came back with a handful of seasonings.
"Ja," Kurt agreed. "It will. And that will allow you time to find peace and center yourself. How do you think Dare will react if you confront her with anger?"
Remy laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound. "You so sure she gon' talk to me. We been back a week and she only talk to me once. And she do it to tell me she don' want talk to me or look at me anymore."
Kurt watched the other man's hands work as he began cutting up the beef into bite-sized cubes. His actions were controlled and methodical. The kitchen was a place of solace for his Cajun friend, and the preparation of food a kind of therapy to help still a troubled mind. The way Remy treated food was akin to worship. "And you think she will feel this way forever?"
His response was a snort. Remy continued cubing the meat, but said nothing more. Kurt allowed silence to blanket them for a few moments, allowing his companion the opportunity to settle into a routine that was certain to see his mind clearing. As the seconds ticked by, hands that had started cubing the meat by almost attacking it were already performing the task with more gentleness. Perhaps even a kind of reverence. It always intrigued Kurt to see how Remy made food, the act of preparing and eating it, some kind of ritual that could rival the most extravagant Catholic mass.
Finally, when Remy's moves were easy and lacked the anger from only minutes ago, Kurt spoke again. "As you have stated, it has only been a week since you were returned to the school. I have no doubt all of you have much to work through. This includes Dare. I do not believe she would push you away and treat you as she is if she did not care for you. She needs to work through her confusion. Just as you do."
Those words saw Remy's fingers tightening down around the handle of the knife. Only for a moment. Kurt could only imagine what the reasons behind that might be. Perhaps Remy didn't want his help and was resisting the urge to make the fact known. Or perhaps he was thinking of what Sinister's actions had wrought among his friends and loves ones. Perhaps he was imagining an opportunity to deal out painful revenge for those actions. "You not wrong," Remy admitted, his voice soft. It sounded like he was lost to memories and Kurt couldn't tell if they were good or bad ones. After a long sigh, Remy turned his attention back to the beef. "De problem is Dare don' work through it. She just cut me out of her life."
He set the knife down and reached for one of the little plastic shakers of seasoning. "An' she de only one who cut herself off. Nobody else Sinister take havin' dis problem. Even Haley and Scott speakin' to one another. Dare and I... " Remy fell silent and took his time sprinkling the seasoning over the meat.
Kurt heard the pain in the words Remy didn't say. He stepped closer and laid one hand on Remy's arm in a gesture meant to be comforting. "Neither Haley or Scott are suffering from the same amount of trauma as Dare is. I believe the only one who comes close is you. And you know as well as I that everyone finds their own ways to cope with such traumatic events."
Remy said nothing, only began moving the cubed meat into a deep pot resting on the stove top. In the week since his friends had been returned, Kurt had found himself thinking on the things that had happened. At first, he'd wondered at Sinister's reasonings for paring his friends as he had. Beyond producing a group of extremely powerful mutants to mold into horsemen for Apocalypse, there hadn't seemed to be any rhyme or reason to the pairings.
Now, though, he thought perhaps he saw another reason. It was a subtle reason, something one might not notice immediately. But he thought it was there and he saw the logic in the pairings. Jehnna and Sam were, in many instances, entirely wholesome. Sam was more worldly and saw the reasons behind being an X-Man while Jehnna seemed much more suited to being a housewife and mother. But there were many similarities in personalities that made them very compatible with one another and it was plain to see that when one spent a few moments in their presence.
Warren and Morgan were social butterflies. They enjoyed life and were well capable of standing up to the ever-seeing eye of a paparazzi's camera. There was also a playfulness in each of them that matched well with the other. For a long time, it had seemed like neither one of them would ever settle down and be serious. Morgan had flirted shamelessly through her school days with anyone who looked her way for more than five seconds while Warren had given the appearance of a playboy with no intentions of ever having a lasting relationship.
Haley and Scott were ever serious about their teams. Not that they didn't know how to have fun and enjoy themselves. But those days had been cut short with Harper's death. Losing a brother and a friend had seen both of them becoming a little more serious. A little more structured. A little more determined. The weight of their ambitions and their loss had settled on their shoulders like a cloak made of lead, to keep them grounded and focused on their teams and their duty. They were leaders in every sense of the word, and their shared loss left them both incomplete. Together, they seemed to fill that hole in one another.
Then there was Remy and Dare. Two souls who had been lost for some time. They'd both had their own time on the streets and that had left them with scars. Kurt had no deep knowledge of their lives when they'd been on the streets, but he had no doubt that their stories had similar chapters. Then there was their shared captivity under Sabretooth's cruel hand. The fallout from that had taken a toll on both for some time after they'd been brought home. A second shared captivity with Sinister had no doubt brought those memories roaring to life. And he knew Dare had suffered more than just those traumas. He had no doubts Remy had, as well. They were creatures crafted and forged by trauma.
"Why are you surprised that she has shut down? This is how she has always responded to trauma. You have seen her do it before. It is just more extreme than previous times. Which is understandable, given what you all were forced to endure," Kurt said gently. "She needs a gentle hand and understanding. Not harsh words. That will only see her pull further into herself."
"She should be t'inkin' about de baby she carry. My baby," Remy said, voice tight. Kurt heard the worry. And the fear. There was frustration, too. "Shuttin' down and pullin' into herself no way to take care of de baby."
Kurt considered that a moment, the sounds of beef cubes sizzling in the pot filling the silence between them. "Perhaps she believes she is taking care of the baby," he suggested slowly. Remy turned at that, the expression on his face suggesting he had a hard time believing it. Kurt offered a hint of a smile, the tip of his tail twitching at the depth of emotion in the other man's eyes. "Tell me, Remy. What is your biggest fear at this very moment?"
The other man obviously thought the question was out of left field, but he heaved a sigh and gave it thought. "Losing de baby. We see what she become. An' dere no tellin' when Sinister come for her. For any of dem."
"Do you think Dare does not live with that fear? Perhaps closing herself off as she has is her way of protecting your child. We both know it is not rational. But we both know she is not thinking rationally," Kurt said, hoping that his words would make the other man stop and consider what might be going on in Dare's head.
Remy said nothing to this. But his motions, when he stirred the meat, were slow and measured. Which meant he was thinking it over. That was all Kurt could hope for. "I know you worry for her. And I understand. I worry for her, too. There will be only so much she can handle before she breaks. I would rather not see her reach those limits. I know you feel the same. Perhaps you need to talk with her about what happens next between the two of you."
Remy took a breath and let it out slowly. Obviously, he was using it as a way to calm himself. Maybe he was using it as time to think and consider. Eventually, he shook his head and turned his attention to a bag of potatoes. "She don' want to talk to me. She make it clear."
Kurt frowned. He had never seen the other man let something so trivial keep him from his goals. It was almost as if he'd given up already. "And you will let that stand? You will let her push you aside and cut you out of her life as well as the life of your child?" Remy made no reply, but Kurt saw the way the man's jaw tensed. He decided to push a little harder. "You care for her so little, then. Perhaps it is better that she pushes you away now."
"I love her, damn it!" Remy spat, voice so loud it echoed around the kitchen. And there was no denying the fact that said emotion echoed in his words. Love. Fear. Frustration. Worry. All that and more was there to be heard.
"Then you must convince her of it if you wish to save your relationship," Kurt pointed out steadily. At that, Remy turned to him and stared with eyes that were haunted by the fear of loss.
"I don' t'ink she want to continue de relationship." The words were little more than a whisper, but it was plain to hear the hurt in them. And there was a memory flickering in his eyes. "De last time we talk, she say she know I don' love her. And she tell me she don' want me around anymore. She tell me to leave her alone."
Kurt frowned and considered what he'd heard. His mind drifted back to the frightened, lost thing she'd been when she'd woken in the medlab after being returned to the mansion. How she'd asked for Remy, then cried when she'd been told he wasn't there. How she'd declared so forlornly that he'd lied. Kurt hadn't spoken to her since, but the impression he took from that one encounter and what Remy was telling him suggested that the two of them were operating on two different planes of understanding. That made him wonder. "Does she know that you and she are in a relationship?" Kurt asked, staring Remy right in the eye.
The words hit the other man like a ton of bricks. It wasn't a physical thing so much as an emotional one. And Kurt saw it when realization came over his friend. "Non. I don' t'ink she do."
Kurt nodded and offered a smile full of reassurance and hope. "Then perhaps you need to convince her otherwise."
Chapter Thirty Two: Discourse
Fandom: the Marvel universe
Rating: 18 and up
Warnings: graphic violence, language, sex, dark themes, anything else i can toss in.
Disclaimer: the recognizable characters and places contained herein are the property of Marvel. i'm merely borrowing for the sake of entertainment. no money is being made from this venture. Haley belongs to
dazzledfirestar Morgan belongs toginevra Roxxy belongs tonanaeanaven Jehnna belongs to silverfox_chan and Dare belongs to me. the concept and title of The Mary Sue Virus are used with permission from dazzledfirestar . Author's Notes: this is almost entirely Daz's fault. okay. so it really isn't. its actually almost 100% my fault. Daz just did a whole lot of encouraging. this fic is going to be kind of dark, so please keep that in mind while reading.
Among the Strong - the index
When they'd suggested she move into one of the suites, she hadn't realized she was going to be subjected to crimes against her sanity. If she'd known, she might have turned them down. As it was, she was stuck here now.
Summers had escorted the two of them down to the sub-basement level where the suites had been set up. She'd thought that maybe they'd move her into the suite meant for her and Remy. But that hadn't happened. Instead, she was sitting on a large, soft as a cloud blue couch in the living room of the suite that had been designated for Haley and Scott's use. And there was a mad shuffle to set it up so that both she and Haley could use it.
Other than the couch, there were matched chairs that faced the couch. A modern coffee table of sleek metal and glass and a single wooden end table between the two chairs that somehow matched the coffee table despite having none of the same components. There were paintings on the walls of snow-capped mountains with a glowing sun rising or setting behind them as well as gentle ocean waves rolling up onto a sandy shore peppered with rocks. Smaller pictures showed rustic cabins and towering pine trees or neat rows of houses lining a winding lane with a large body of water behind them.
A rug covered the floor under the couch and chairs. It was a pale blue, the color of a husky's eyes, with some kind of interwoven pattern done in white, soft gold, and darker blue. The lamps were stylish, with gleaming bases in cream and peach, the shades topping them an icy blue that cast soft light around the area. All in all, it looked very comfortable.
Haley sat on the couch beside Dare, Emilia cradled gently in her arms. The baby was sleeping peacefully, her tiny face a picture of perfection. Haley was watching her daughter with a look that was filled with love and adoration. And fear. There was no missing the fear. She wanted to say something, wanted to offer an assurance that the son-of-a-bitch wouldn't come take their children. But she couldn't. Because she knew it was inevitable. It made her wish she wouldn't go into labor just so he couldn't have her baby.
"Ow. Damn it. That hurt." The words came from the smaller bedroom. The room that was supposed to have been Emilia's nursery. Instead, it was being converted into a bedroom for her. She still didn't know how she felt about it. She couldn't figure out why she'd said yes to moving down here in the first place. Hell, she was surprised Haley had asked. After their last encounter, Dare had been certain Haley wouldn't want anything to do with her.
A glance at her companion told her that Haley was very much attuned to the owner of that voice. Even if she wasn't actually looking toward the bedroom, Dare could tell she was paying attention. It was there in the way her shoulders were tensed. In the way her lower lip was caught between her teeth. And in the faint dusting of pink that stained her cheeks.
Damn, Haley had it bad.
Dare supposed she couldn't blame the other woman too much. He was all well-honed muscle and much-deserved arrogance wrapped up in a nice package. The line of his jaw and the curve of his cheekbone suggested he was fair of face.That was hard to judge without being able to see his eyes. And she supposed she could admit that his lips looked kissable and his ass was tight enough to bounce quarters off of. He was easy, even pleasant, to look upon because he would never be a threat to her. He'd never be interested in her.
"Jesus, I'm an idiot," Haley muttered.
"You are not," Dare responded immediately, earning her a slightly confused look from the woman beside her. She supposed she'd earned it. She hadn't been very sociable lately. Then Haley shook her head and her eyes went to the open doorway.
"I really am. I was stupid and I fell in love with him. Despite the fact that I'm married to Johnny and he's married to Jean. I always knew..." Her voice trailed off but that didn't stop Dare from hearing the sadness. The wistfulness. The... yearning in it.
"Bullshit. You didn't always know that we would make it home. None of us did. We hoped. But we didn't know. I think you should cut yourself some slack," she responded. Haley stared at her again.
"This is... not what I expected from you. Are you okay?" Haley asked.
"We both know I'm not. But I don't have the time or the energy to talk about my many issues. We're talking about how you made the very best you could out of a terrible situation not of your own making," Dare responded.
"Dare, be real. I fell in love with him," Haley repeated. There was more emphasis on it this time, as if she'd done a bad thing. Dare shifted slightly, looking for a more comfortable positiion, and shot Haley a look.
"And? Is it so terrible?" Dare asked. Haley gaped at her as if she'd grown a second head. "You can't control your emotions. And it wasn't like you made a conscious decision or anything. You were trapped in a room with him. I would probably have done the same."
"You would not have done the same. You don't even like him," Haley accused.
Dare glanced toward the open door and stared a moment. Took note of the noises coming from the other room. When she returned her attention to Haley, she lowered her voice so that only the other woman could hear her. "I never said I didn't like Summers. The man is very pretty. Easier on the eyes than he has a right to be with his assholier than thou attitude. Which, by the way, he is allowed to have. Gods know I've given him enough headaches," Dare told her, then shook her head. "The point I'm making here is you got to spend an entire year locked in a room with a hot guy who, I suspect, has a really great personality. Its only logical you would fall in love with him."
Haley gaped at Dare, mouth slightly open and eyes wide with disbelief. Apparently, saying she thought the man was easy on the eyes was some end of the world, cataclysmic event.
Dare frowned. "If you ever tell Summers I said I thought he was pretty, I'll roast you."
That comment brought a soft laugh up Haley's throat and some of the tension slid out of her spine. "Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me," she promised.
Dare nodded at that, then leaned back against the couch and closed her eyes. Gods, she was exhausted. Everything seemed to tire her out, even being social. All she wanted to do was sleep. It had been something of a struggle to make it to the sub-basement level without falling over. The last thing she needed was Haley and Summers worrying over her like mother hens.
"It doesn't hurt that it was some of the best sex I've ever had," Haley said, voice low enough that she wouldn't be overheard. There was satisfaction in those words. Good. It suggested that Dare hadn't lost her position as the team's resident head case. There was room for only one of them on Purple Team. "You have no idea just how hard it was to keep my hands off him."
Dare made a sound that might have been laughter or curiosity, but it was indistinct and soft. She could feel sleep stalking her from the shadows and it was inching ever closer. She was half asleep as it was. A nap was sounding better by the second.
"There. The bed is together and ready for use." Summers' voice filling the room around her kept her from sliding into the welcoming arms of Morpheus. She was tempted to tell him off for waking her up, then decided against it. There was no point because he wouldn't be bothered by it in the slightest. "There are a few more pieces of furniture to put together, then the room is ready."
"De bed not as grand as de one in de other suite." And there was the crime against her sanity. Dare's eyes opened to find that both Summers and Remy had joined them in the living area. Scott was in a t-shirt and jeans, the material on both worn thin by repeated wearing and washing. They were obviously old and well-loved. She secretly admired the way the t-shirt stretched over his chest and showed off muscles normally hidden under stuffy clothes. And the jeans clung to the curve of his ass and the swell of his thighs in ways that were, quite frankly, obscene. "But it soft and comfortable."
Reluctantly, her gaze slid to where Remy stood. He wore cut-offs that stopped mid-thigh. She remembered how it felt to have his legs twined with hers, how the muscles shifted and flexed with each move he made. His tank top was tighter than should be considered legal, and it clung almost lovingly to his chest. She swore he was dressed like that intentionally. Angry with her inability to stop thirsting after him, she dragged her gaze away before she started fantasizing about the sweat beaded up on his brow. The problem with that was she was gifted with Summers wiping sweat off his brow with the edge of his t-shirt. She caught sight of a flat stomach and toned abs before he dropped his shirt back into place.
Well, fuck.
Her attention came back to Haley, who was doing her best not to look at Scott. But Dare saw the way her eyes flicked in his direction. More than once. And there was, again, color in her face that suggested she was flustered by what she saw. Which meant she liked what she saw. It was nice to know that she was thirsting after Scott as hard as Dare was thirsting after Remy.
Dare chastised herself for her thoughts. She needed to stop and put the past year behind her. This was the real world. Here in the real world, she didn't get to live out that fantasy. She owed Logan more loyalty. He'd stood by her through all of her shit. He'd never once held the fact that he wasn't Dee's biological father against either of them. He didn't deserve to be treated like second best simply because she'd never really left that fantasy behind. And, in all honesty, she wasn't pretty enough to stand at Remy's side. She'd never be beautiful enough or good enough to deserve that. She didn't even come close to second best.
She needed to rebuild her walls. Make them taller. Thicker. Make it impossible for him to reach her heart again. Because she knew, no matter what he said, he'd walk away from her one day. He'd get bored of playing house and he'd go back to his real life. And she wouldn't survive that if it happened.
"How are you feeling, Haley? You seem a little tired," Summers' voice cut across Dare's thoughts and brought her back to the here and now. He'd closed the distance between himself and the couch. She found him squatting in front of Haley, his gaze intent on the redhead's face. One hand rested on her knee, the other was settled on the baby they'd created. There was such a soft look on his face. Such longing. She didn't need to see behind his glasses to know that was the truth. And seeing him look at Haley like that, hearing the warmth and the love in his voice, the genuine emotion, left her feeling exposed and brittle. Like her heart was going to shatter in her chest.
"I'm okay," Haley replied, the same depth of emotion in her voice. Dare looked away, letting her gaze focus on the pattern on the rug at her feet. She refused to cry, instead putting more energy into her walls so that the desire, the longing, didn't touch her.
"Come on, Haley. I can tell you're tired," Scott responded. Jesus, his voice was so soft and so filled with warmth that it physically hurt. Dare's chest hurt with what would never be for her. "Maybe you should go nap. You can put Emilia down and I'll stay and keep an ear out for her."
"Really, Scott. I'm okay," Haley assured him.
He remained silent for a good while, prompting Dare to steal a glance in his direction. He looked like he didn't believe her. But he eventually gave a nod and offered her a smile. Then he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her lips, something sweet and chaste, before pulling back. "Okay. We're going to go finish up the furniture. If you need anything, just call for me."
There was such tenderness in his voice. Dare hated herself for the spear of jealousy that stabbed through her. She had no right to be jealous of Haley. It wasn't her friend's fault that she was fucked up and wrong. She dragged her attention to the closest painting so that she wouldn't accidentally witness anymore tenderness.
The touch of Haley's hand on her knee startled her into giving her attention to the other woman. There was a look in her friend's eyes that made Dare want to cry. She shoved that urge down and told it very sternly to fuck off. "You know its okay to want him, Dare. You know that, right? And you can enjoy the pretty all you want."
"Its not my pretty to enjoy," she whispered. "And I can want him all I want. But that doesn't mean I get to have him."
"You didn't see the way he looked at you, Dare. He looks at you like you hung the moon and stars," Haley said. There was a pause while Haley stared at her. "You need to let him in, Dare. Its obvious you love him. And he obviously loves you. Its killing him to be in the same room with you when you won't look at him or talk to him. What harm could there be in just letting him in?"
Dare shook her head. "Just let it go, Haley. Please?" She kept her voice steady and even. Tried not to sound like she was desperate for Haley to drop the subject. Even if she was.
"You're my friend, Dare. A part of my family. I love you. I want to see you happy," Haley responded. She reached out and settled one of her hands on Dare's hand. The weight of her touch pressed Dare's palm more firmly against the swell of her belly. It surprised her because she hadn't been aware she'd put her hands there. "He loves you, too. He wants to make you happy. Let him. Just... let him in and let him make you happy."
"Do you really think I'm allowed to be happy?" Dare asked quietly. She could hear Remy's voice from the other room, too low for her to make out any words. That didn't matter. The sound of it was enough to see her slipping over the edge. And she couldn't She just couldn't. That way was madness. She threw more energy at her walls to try and keep him away. To protect what little sanity she had left.
"Dare..." Haley's voice trailed off, confusion and disbelief lacing that single word.
"What did Summers mean when he said he can tell you're tired?" Dare asked, letting her gaze rest on Haley's face. It was, in part, to see if she could find the tiredness in the other woman's face. But part of it was to ensure Haley knew the subject was closed. Her friend stared at her a moment or two, then shook her head. "You do not look tired. But he sounded certain. How did he know?"
Haley frowned and glanced at the open doorway into the other bedroom. When she brought her attention back to Dare, there was a look in her eyes that said she was weighing her options. Finally, she sighed and made a motion with her hand from herself to the bedroom. "There's a link," she said bluntly.
Dare studied her a moment. "A link? Like the one with Johnny?"
"Yes. That kind of link," Haley confirmed. Dare took a moment to consider that. She remembered well how Haley had formed a link with both Piotr and Johnny. And she remembered how, when she'd chosen Johnny over Piotr, the link with the Russian had started fading. That thought made her frown. They'd been together for so long and Dare had kind of gotten used to Burnout being a pain in her ass. If he and Haley split...
"Is your link with Johnny fading?"
"No. Its as strong as ever," Haley told her. Color dusted her cheeks again, this time stronger than it had been before. "I'm sure he got a lot of stuff he didn't want to get when I was in labor with Emilia. I won't blame him if he hates me for it."
Dare frowned. "Fuck him if he's going to throw you over for this."
Haley blinked, apparently taken aback by the vehemence in Dare's voice. Then she shook her head. "He's got every right to throw me over for what happened. I--"
Dare shot her a look that saw Haley shutting up fast. There might have been a little fear in her green eyes, but Dare wasn't paying attention. Her temper was suddenly firmly in control. "If he throws you aside because of what happened, then he's an idiot, a chicken shit, and stupid on top of it all. And I'll burn him to ash. You deserve better than that shit!" she snapped.
The moment of anger was gone as quickly as it had come, and the loss of it left Dare feeling hollow and empty. For a moment, it had felt as if her blood had been boiling with that sudden surge of rage. The loss of it was more than she was prepared to handle. She found herself sagged back against the couch, Haley's hands on her face as the other woman stared at her with concern darkening the green of her eyes. "Dare? Are you okay? You almost fell over. What happened? Maybe I should get Remy."
"No," she said, voice a hoarse whisper in the silence of the room. "I'm fine. Just tired."
"You don't look good," Haley insisted. "Let me go get Remy."
"I said I'm fine," Dare repeated. She wasn't fine. It felt like someone had smacked her in the head with a hammer. But she wasn't going to admit any such thing to Haley. The other woman was already worried and hovering. And she had her own issues to deal with. Plus, Emilia was only a few days old. Haley's attention needed to be on her daughter. Not on Dare's stupid ass. "So the link between you and that dumb ass is just as strong as ever. What about with him?" she motioned limply toward the other room, where Remy and Scott were busy building furniture.
"Dare," Haley sighed. She obviously didn't like the blatant change of subject and probably wanted to push the issue. After a few moments, she glanced at the doorway leading into that other room and nodded. "Yes. Its just as strong as the link with Johnny."
"And... what? They feel what you feel? You feel what they feel?" She thought it worked something like that, but she hadn't ever really asked in depth. But she knew the link was how Haley had known Johnny was still alive when Doom had nabbed the Four way back when. The same had been true for Johnny just this past year when it was Haley that had gotten grabbed.
"Yeah. That's pretty much how it works," Haley agreed. She looked at Dare a moment, then frowned. "Does it not work that way for you with the links you have to Morgan and Remy?"
Dare frowned at the question. She'd never really thought about it. After several seconds of silence, she shrugged a shoulder. "I mean... I guess? I've never really considered it. I've been linked to Morgan most of my life. I don't remember feeling anything Morgan felt. But I think its more that Faye takes things to Morgan that I think or feel or experience. Faye doesn't bring any of Morgan's things to me. And that doesn't mean I can't reach down the link and see how Morgan is. I just... don't."
The last time she'd reached down the link, she'd gotten a face full of how much Morgan loved Remy. She hadn't wanted to attempt such a thing again.
"And the link with Remy?" Haley prompted. Dare considered it, looking for an answer. Which took much longer than she thought it should. Her brain was super fuzzy and the exhaustion was taking hold with a vengeance. She couldn't remember the last time she hadn't felt tired.
"I can feel what he's feeling, if I pay close attention to the link. Pretty sure its the same for him," she said. She'd barely finished her sentence when she let go a big, big yawn. "Dunno. Never asked him."
She took note, around the way her eyelids kept trying to close, that Haley was staring at her with undisguised concern. Dare tried to assure her she was fine, but all that came out was another yawn. And, to be fair, the couch was really comfortable. Maybe she could close her eyes for just a moment...
The scent of something spicy tickled her nose and pulled her away from sleep. It didn't take long to recognize that spicy scent and she struggled to open her eyes. Along with the spice came the odor of sweat. And she thought she caught a faint whiff of fear. But she brushed that aside as the result of a sleep-drugged brain. For a moment or more, she considered snuggling into the head wrapped around her. But that died when she heard the conversation happening around her.
"... don't think she should fall asleep that easily and it worries me." That was Haley's voice and the worry was blatant in it.
The grip on her tightened. "Dere definitely somet'ing not right." The same worry she'd heard in Haley's voice echoed in Remy's.
Dare struggled in his hold in an effort to throw it off. "Put me down," she ordered, though there was little force in her words, said as they were through a yawn.
"You fall asleep on de couch," Remy responded. "Gon' put you in bed."
"Put me down," she insisted again. This time, there was a little more force behind her words. "I can walk."
"You fall asleep on de couch, petit," he repeated. She could feel that he was already on his way to the bedroom that was meant to be hers. She wanted to force him to put her down, but she couldn't make her arms or legs move well enough to do so. "So I'm gon' carry you to bed."
Dare wanted to fight with him, but the exhaustion was already pulling her under again. She didn't let herself snuggle into his hold. She didn't have the strength for it. She did, however, have enough strength to give him a reminder. "Not your petite. Don't call me that."
"Whatever you say, petit," he replied softly. And then it didn't matter anymore because she lost her fight with the exhaustion and it claimed her consciousness as a prize.
~*~
The door to the kitchen swung open to the sound of pans slamming around and a stream of muttered words that sounded as if they were being dragged up from the bowels of Hell. And not all of them were in English. Heaving a soft sigh, he stepped into the kitchen and made sure the door swung shut on silent hinges behind him. For several long moments, he watched the other person slam things down on the counters. After a litany of words which he didn't understand but was sure were little more than curse words, he moved further into the kitchen.
"Clearly you have things you need to discuss. I am willing to listen, if you wish to speak of them to me," he offered.
The banging stopped as the person standing at the counter turned to look at him. Eyes that normally held laughter and love were filled with worry and dread. Behind him, there were various ingredients spread out across the counter, along with several pans. "You sure you wan' make such an offer, mon ami?"
"You look as if you need someone to whom you can tell your problems. I am willing to listen. Perhaps I can even offer some help," Kurt responded softly. One hand motioned to the mess on the counter behind Remy. "I have never seen you treat food with such contempt and disrespect. It is obvious something troubles you."
He watched as Remy turned away from him and stared at the counter before him. His hands came to rest on the edge of the counter and, slowly, his head tipped forward until it hung in defeat. "Don' t'ink dere anything you can do to help wit' dis problem," he admitted softly.
"You are speaking of Dare?" Kurt asked lightly. Remy nodded, one hand lifting to run almost angrily through his hair. The length was left in disarray. Kurt suspected it reflected the state of the man's mind. Kurt glided closer on silent feet until he was mere inches away from his friend and fellow X-Man. "I have heard rumors. Are they true?"
"Depend on de rumor, hmmm?" Remy lifted his head and settled his regard on the various food products before him.
"She continues to avoid you. She has you locked from her mind. She disappears and no one seems capable of finding her." Kurt paused here and waited for some response. Nothing was immediately forthcoming, so he prodded a little more. "There are others. I can go on, if you wish."
"Dose not rumors," Remy responded. Kurt heard, in those three simple words, a whole world of emotions. Remy was in emotional turmoil and had no idea how to resolve it. "She keep me locked out. An' she just... wastin' away. Dere not'ing I can do to change her mind."
"So you come to the kitchen to solve your problems with food?" Kurt asked.
"Gon' make her somet'ing to eat. She need to eat. I can't decide what to make," Remy admitted. Kurt glanced at the items Remy had spread across the counter. Carefully, he started rearranging the food stuffs until a package of beef was surrounded by various vegetables and a few containers of broth.
"Stew. Thick and hearty. It will help," Kurt said simply. He began picking up the other items in order to return them to their places in the cupboards and refrigerator. Once done, he opened the freezer and pulled out a package of frozen bread. It was the kind that baked up crusty and rustic-looking. "And bread. A meal meant to fill the belly and help speed the replenishment of energy."
"Stew gon' take a while," the other man said, hands already sifting through pots and pans to find the one he wanted. The others were stacked up and returned to their home. Then he retrieved a cutting board, a knife, and a few other utensils. Lastly, he raided the pantry and came back with a handful of seasonings.
"Ja," Kurt agreed. "It will. And that will allow you time to find peace and center yourself. How do you think Dare will react if you confront her with anger?"
Remy laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound. "You so sure she gon' talk to me. We been back a week and she only talk to me once. And she do it to tell me she don' want talk to me or look at me anymore."
Kurt watched the other man's hands work as he began cutting up the beef into bite-sized cubes. His actions were controlled and methodical. The kitchen was a place of solace for his Cajun friend, and the preparation of food a kind of therapy to help still a troubled mind. The way Remy treated food was akin to worship. "And you think she will feel this way forever?"
His response was a snort. Remy continued cubing the meat, but said nothing more. Kurt allowed silence to blanket them for a few moments, allowing his companion the opportunity to settle into a routine that was certain to see his mind clearing. As the seconds ticked by, hands that had started cubing the meat by almost attacking it were already performing the task with more gentleness. Perhaps even a kind of reverence. It always intrigued Kurt to see how Remy made food, the act of preparing and eating it, some kind of ritual that could rival the most extravagant Catholic mass.
Finally, when Remy's moves were easy and lacked the anger from only minutes ago, Kurt spoke again. "As you have stated, it has only been a week since you were returned to the school. I have no doubt all of you have much to work through. This includes Dare. I do not believe she would push you away and treat you as she is if she did not care for you. She needs to work through her confusion. Just as you do."
Those words saw Remy's fingers tightening down around the handle of the knife. Only for a moment. Kurt could only imagine what the reasons behind that might be. Perhaps Remy didn't want his help and was resisting the urge to make the fact known. Or perhaps he was thinking of what Sinister's actions had wrought among his friends and loves ones. Perhaps he was imagining an opportunity to deal out painful revenge for those actions. "You not wrong," Remy admitted, his voice soft. It sounded like he was lost to memories and Kurt couldn't tell if they were good or bad ones. After a long sigh, Remy turned his attention back to the beef. "De problem is Dare don' work through it. She just cut me out of her life."
He set the knife down and reached for one of the little plastic shakers of seasoning. "An' she de only one who cut herself off. Nobody else Sinister take havin' dis problem. Even Haley and Scott speakin' to one another. Dare and I... " Remy fell silent and took his time sprinkling the seasoning over the meat.
Kurt heard the pain in the words Remy didn't say. He stepped closer and laid one hand on Remy's arm in a gesture meant to be comforting. "Neither Haley or Scott are suffering from the same amount of trauma as Dare is. I believe the only one who comes close is you. And you know as well as I that everyone finds their own ways to cope with such traumatic events."
Remy said nothing, only began moving the cubed meat into a deep pot resting on the stove top. In the week since his friends had been returned, Kurt had found himself thinking on the things that had happened. At first, he'd wondered at Sinister's reasonings for paring his friends as he had. Beyond producing a group of extremely powerful mutants to mold into horsemen for Apocalypse, there hadn't seemed to be any rhyme or reason to the pairings.
Now, though, he thought perhaps he saw another reason. It was a subtle reason, something one might not notice immediately. But he thought it was there and he saw the logic in the pairings. Jehnna and Sam were, in many instances, entirely wholesome. Sam was more worldly and saw the reasons behind being an X-Man while Jehnna seemed much more suited to being a housewife and mother. But there were many similarities in personalities that made them very compatible with one another and it was plain to see that when one spent a few moments in their presence.
Warren and Morgan were social butterflies. They enjoyed life and were well capable of standing up to the ever-seeing eye of a paparazzi's camera. There was also a playfulness in each of them that matched well with the other. For a long time, it had seemed like neither one of them would ever settle down and be serious. Morgan had flirted shamelessly through her school days with anyone who looked her way for more than five seconds while Warren had given the appearance of a playboy with no intentions of ever having a lasting relationship.
Haley and Scott were ever serious about their teams. Not that they didn't know how to have fun and enjoy themselves. But those days had been cut short with Harper's death. Losing a brother and a friend had seen both of them becoming a little more serious. A little more structured. A little more determined. The weight of their ambitions and their loss had settled on their shoulders like a cloak made of lead, to keep them grounded and focused on their teams and their duty. They were leaders in every sense of the word, and their shared loss left them both incomplete. Together, they seemed to fill that hole in one another.
Then there was Remy and Dare. Two souls who had been lost for some time. They'd both had their own time on the streets and that had left them with scars. Kurt had no deep knowledge of their lives when they'd been on the streets, but he had no doubt that their stories had similar chapters. Then there was their shared captivity under Sabretooth's cruel hand. The fallout from that had taken a toll on both for some time after they'd been brought home. A second shared captivity with Sinister had no doubt brought those memories roaring to life. And he knew Dare had suffered more than just those traumas. He had no doubts Remy had, as well. They were creatures crafted and forged by trauma.
"Why are you surprised that she has shut down? This is how she has always responded to trauma. You have seen her do it before. It is just more extreme than previous times. Which is understandable, given what you all were forced to endure," Kurt said gently. "She needs a gentle hand and understanding. Not harsh words. That will only see her pull further into herself."
"She should be t'inkin' about de baby she carry. My baby," Remy said, voice tight. Kurt heard the worry. And the fear. There was frustration, too. "Shuttin' down and pullin' into herself no way to take care of de baby."
Kurt considered that a moment, the sounds of beef cubes sizzling in the pot filling the silence between them. "Perhaps she believes she is taking care of the baby," he suggested slowly. Remy turned at that, the expression on his face suggesting he had a hard time believing it. Kurt offered a hint of a smile, the tip of his tail twitching at the depth of emotion in the other man's eyes. "Tell me, Remy. What is your biggest fear at this very moment?"
The other man obviously thought the question was out of left field, but he heaved a sigh and gave it thought. "Losing de baby. We see what she become. An' dere no tellin' when Sinister come for her. For any of dem."
"Do you think Dare does not live with that fear? Perhaps closing herself off as she has is her way of protecting your child. We both know it is not rational. But we both know she is not thinking rationally," Kurt said, hoping that his words would make the other man stop and consider what might be going on in Dare's head.
Remy said nothing to this. But his motions, when he stirred the meat, were slow and measured. Which meant he was thinking it over. That was all Kurt could hope for. "I know you worry for her. And I understand. I worry for her, too. There will be only so much she can handle before she breaks. I would rather not see her reach those limits. I know you feel the same. Perhaps you need to talk with her about what happens next between the two of you."
Remy took a breath and let it out slowly. Obviously, he was using it as a way to calm himself. Maybe he was using it as time to think and consider. Eventually, he shook his head and turned his attention to a bag of potatoes. "She don' want to talk to me. She make it clear."
Kurt frowned. He had never seen the other man let something so trivial keep him from his goals. It was almost as if he'd given up already. "And you will let that stand? You will let her push you aside and cut you out of her life as well as the life of your child?" Remy made no reply, but Kurt saw the way the man's jaw tensed. He decided to push a little harder. "You care for her so little, then. Perhaps it is better that she pushes you away now."
"I love her, damn it!" Remy spat, voice so loud it echoed around the kitchen. And there was no denying the fact that said emotion echoed in his words. Love. Fear. Frustration. Worry. All that and more was there to be heard.
"Then you must convince her of it if you wish to save your relationship," Kurt pointed out steadily. At that, Remy turned to him and stared with eyes that were haunted by the fear of loss.
"I don' t'ink she want to continue de relationship." The words were little more than a whisper, but it was plain to hear the hurt in them. And there was a memory flickering in his eyes. "De last time we talk, she say she know I don' love her. And she tell me she don' want me around anymore. She tell me to leave her alone."
Kurt frowned and considered what he'd heard. His mind drifted back to the frightened, lost thing she'd been when she'd woken in the medlab after being returned to the mansion. How she'd asked for Remy, then cried when she'd been told he wasn't there. How she'd declared so forlornly that he'd lied. Kurt hadn't spoken to her since, but the impression he took from that one encounter and what Remy was telling him suggested that the two of them were operating on two different planes of understanding. That made him wonder. "Does she know that you and she are in a relationship?" Kurt asked, staring Remy right in the eye.
The words hit the other man like a ton of bricks. It wasn't a physical thing so much as an emotional one. And Kurt saw it when realization came over his friend. "Non. I don' t'ink she do."
Kurt nodded and offered a smile full of reassurance and hope. "Then perhaps you need to convince her otherwise."