Work Text:
Words Like Silence
Remy was somehow feeling both better and worse, and he wouldn't have been surprised to hear that his body had been dashed to pieces and put back together again.
Almost like Humpty Dumpty, he mused, immediately knitting his brow in confusion.
Who the hell was Humpty Dumpty?
If his body felt broken, his mind felt utterly shattered.
He opened his eyes, squinting at the blinding light.
Remy groaned, trying to shield his eyes, but his arms felt too heavy, and his body screamed in agony when he tried to lift them.
He cried out, shifting to try to relieve the pain in his limbs.
Un ours bleu suddenly leaned over him. [a blue bear]
"Ah," it said matter-of-factly.
What in the fuckin'…
Was Remy dreaming? It was insane to be next to-
Un petit moment… [one moment/wait/hang on]
No, he had seen him before.
Hank? Honk?
"You gave us quite a fright, M'sieur LeBeau," the man said.
Remy felt his brow furrow.
Was someone else there, too?
Where was "there," for that matter?
It felt like he had to squint his mind, to focus on something that was just beyond his reach.
Had Remy been in his room? No, he'd been taking a shower. Hadn't he? Did his cell have a shower?
Was he in his cell?
Remy's brain seemed to spasm somehow, like he'd been jerked in another direction, something darker pulling at him.
It felt like he was late for something, needed to be somewhere, was forgetting to do something important.
He felt a wave of suspicion waft in like smoke.
How had he gotten here? Who were these people? Who exactly was le ours bleu?
Maybe it was the man's time to surrender to the end beyond.
But if so, why was Remy on a table and not him?
Maybe Remy had failed his master. No, Death had failed his master.
He felt a bitter wave of shame, disappointment in himself.
Death held very still, taking in his surroundings, examining the facts. He could redeem himself, if only he could manage to flee.
These mortals had captured him. Must be experimenting on him. He needed to find a means of escape, but he was too weak. Possibly drugged. Death's body throbbed from whatever they had done to his feeble frame.
His chest ached, and on tingling skin by his bare breast plate, there was something cool and almost slippery.
Were they preparing him for surgery? Were they planning to operate on him?
Death tensed, which made his muscles spasm.
What the hell had they already done to him? Why couldn't he recall the recent past? Why couldn't he remember much of anything?
The mortals must be making him forget. Somehow. His purpose, the task at hand. He was Death, but Death seemed to be someone else, like his skin didn't fit.
Death had to resist whatever they were doing to him, whatever it was. Had he been able to fight back at all? Had he simply succeeded less often than he had failed? Every part of him seemed real and like a dream, a sort of haze, each side clear until the other broke free once again.
His master would be better off without him if this was all that he could give, if he couldn't stand his ground.
But… who was his master? What did that even mean?
"You may be experiencing some confusion," l'ours bleu continued. "Though the situation is somewhat unprecedented."
Death's scalp began to burn, presumably from those damn fucking big words.
"Your heart stopped."
His heart?
But Death had no-
Hmm.
Was he Death?
I've got you, sugar, someone had said.
Had she been speaking to Death or someone else?
She must have been speaking to him.
And it had touched his heart, so what did that mean for him and who he was?
Unless it hadn't been real? Had it?
You loved me. And I loved you.
Death has no need for love, he scoffed inwardly.
So why did he want to hear more?
His chest suddenly felt excruciatingly tight, though it was a different sort of ache, one laced with sadness.
So few people had ever said that to Remy. He'd said it to even fewer.
He'd always felt greedy for it, had guarded love carefully. It wasn't something he easily shared, wasn't something he easily took.
Why did he desperately want it now? And whose voice had that been? He was sure he knew. As clearly as he knew his own name.
Hmm.
Think just bein' 'round you does somethin' to me, she had told him.
Had it been real?
It's like you're just supposed to be there.
Somethin's right when the world's that way.
It felt like that now. Like the world would be right again if something happened. But what was that something?
"Chere?" he heard himself ask, not even knowing who he was asking for, but needing her all the same.
L'ours bleu blinked at him, looking gobsmacked.
"I will let her know you're alright," he finally said.
Remy clamped his eyes shut. Why did everything hurt so damn much?
There was a sudden swishing noise, followed by footsteps, and then someone gripped his hand firmly.
"Remy?"
It was the voice. Was she talking to him?
He opened his eyes, shifting to see, and his body protested once again.
"Merde," he groaned.
"Careful, sugar," the voice said soothingly.
The grip on his hand loosened slightly, and he felt a flash of panic.
"Mon amour," he heard himself say.
"I'm here, my love," she replied, her voice thick with emotion.
Remy's vision finally seemed to clear, his eyes finally managing to focus on her, and something finally felt right in the world.
Rogue.
He couldn't seem to figure out what she was to him, but he knew she was supposed to be here.
She squeezed his hand as if clinging to a lifeline.
"I'm so sorry, baby-" she began, her voice sounding frantic.
He couldn't get the words to make sense in his head, but he studied her face as she spoke.
She was so damn beautiful, but her eyes were full of tears, and she looked so damn sad.
Don't cry, chere.
The words seemed to get stuck in his throat, so he pulled her hand to his lips, kissing it, and shutting his tired eyes.
He couldn't press his lips to hers, though he wanted to, but that didn't matter anyway.
He loved kissing her hands, letting her know this way that she was loved.
Hmm…
Didn't he? Or was that something he'd dreamed?
He suddenly felt as sad as she'd looked.
Maybe he hadn't gotten any of her at all.
But she was there. He knew she had been there. Talking to him, crying for him. Hadn't she held him so he wouldn't fall to pieces?
Had any of that been real? He wanted it to be real.
He clenched his jaw, the soreness becoming more pronounced.
Why wouldn't things make sense? Why couldn't his head seem to settle? Why couldn't his fucking body settle for that matter?
Remy tried to say something, but the only words that escaped were silent.
He wanted to scream, and his eyes stung in frustration.
He vaguely heard talking, maybe about him? He couldn't seem to catch what anyone was saying, their words also beyond his reach.
Someone tell me what the fuck is goin' on!
He'd spoken sometimes. Why not now?
He heard Rogue's voice, though it seemed far away.
"Thank you. For savin' him," she sniffled.
Remy felt a hand in his hair, her hand stroking his scalp, and his entire body seemed to sigh with relief.
He seemed to reset when she was by him, touching him. She'd been with him almost every day since he came to this place, whatever it was. She was the only person who'd explained anything to him, though half of it hadn't made sense. The only person who'd held him.
The idea of not having her nearby felt strange.
Were they always together? Surely he would remember. Maybe they had been somewhere else together before this?
His thoughts felt like sandpaper scraping against itself, unwilling to move when they ought to glide. And then they suddenly clicked into place.
Genosha.
They'd been there together recently. Hadn't they? He'd felt terrible sadness. Unbearable pain in his side.
He knit his brow.
His side ached now, but no more than the rest of his body. Hadn't that just happened?
Maybe none of it had.
Fuck.
Rogue stroked his hair again. He wondered if she knew how much it helped. Or why, since he didn't.
Her hand moved to his, giving it a squeeze.
"Gotta go change, sugar, but I'll be back," she said.
She tried to let go, but he held on tight.
"Non," he whined. Somehow.
He heard her snort.
"Got to, sugar. I'm all wet."
Ha.
He opened his eyes, fighting a smile.
For a moment, Rogue stared at him in shock.
And then, her eyes became glassy.
"You really bein' ugly right now?" she asked through tears, still managing to sound piqued.
"Now that does sound like him," said a gravelly voice from by the door.
Remy turned his head to see the man with the claws. He glared in that direction.
Don't remember askin' you, couillon. [fool/idiot/dumbass]
"Starting to think he might be in there after all," the man grunted, sounding amused.
"Bec mon tchu," Remy rasped, feeling almost proud to be able to speak in this case. [kiss/bite my ass]
"Remy!" Rogue gasped.
"What'd you say, jackass?" Claws asked, approaching despite really needing to go back where he came from.
Remy's joints were stinging, and he tried to shift to get more comfortable.
"Je t'emmerde," Remy groaned. [go fuck yourself/fuck you]
"Smart mouth came back before you did, huh, asshole?" the man growled, popping his claws.
"Oh my," said l'ours bleu.
"Would you two stop?" Rogue snapped, wiping away tears.
She turned to Claws.
"Put those away!"
Good idea, Remy thought smugly as the man sheathed his claws.
Rogue turned to Remy.
"And you don't get outta usin' manners just 'cause you're dead," she said tartly, shaking her head. "Don't remember who you are and still startin' shit. Christ."
Remy tried to speak, but he began to cough, and his lungs felt like they were on fire.
Rogue's eyes instantly widened.
"Remy?" she gasped.
"That's convenient," Claws said scornfully.
Rogue ignored that, taking Remy's hand.
"Hank?" She sounded panicked. "Is he okay?"
"He is alright," Hank (apparently) replied soothingly. "His heart is stable now."
"You sure?" she choked out.
"I am sure."
Remy's coughing fit finally subsided, and his body again felt very tired, his chest still feeling like it was full of burning embers.
He realized Rogue's hand was shaking.
He managed to turn his head slightly.
"Remy… Please…"
Tears trickled down her face again.
"You can't die on me again. I can't take it-" Her voice caught.
She looked up at Hank.
"Don't think I can go just yet."
"He will be fine. Logan and I will look out for him."
"No-"
"You are shivering, my dear."
"I'll be fine."
Remy felt a wave of annoyance.
Never take care o' yourself…
He knit his brow.
How did he know that?
"Go change, kid," said Logan (apparently). "Promise I won't kill him."
"I ain't leavin'," Rogue snapped.
Remy sighed.
Têtu comme un mule… [stubborn as a mule]
Remy glanced around.
Hmm.
When's the last time he didn't have the damn thing nearby?
"Coat?" he croaked, trying to keep the thought in his head.
Get her my coat.
Rogue spun to look at him.
"What?" she gasped.
"Coat." It was barely audible.
"Well, that is promising," said Hank.
"Yes. It is," conceded Logan.
"You suggestin' your coat, sugar?" Rogue sniffled, looking like she was ready to collapse again.
Remy gave Logan a meaningful look.
Logan sighed.
"Right. I'll go get it."
Audio/Podfic Version
(read aloud by me!)
Length: 15:53
Listen: Words Like Silence mp3