Scott peered out this window of the van at the sleet and snow. "This is the *last* time I trust the weather report."
"Even Stormy said it'd hold off," Remy said, fussing with his seatbelt.
"Both of ya shut up. I'm tryin' to concentrate," Logan snapped. The younger men exchanged a glance and a shrug. They continued in the silence of white-sheeted snowfall for another ten minutes. "Gonna look fer a pull off. This is too dangerous." Scott nodded acceptance.
Out of nowhere, weaving, out-of-control, there was a car. It careened into the side of the van and kept going down the road. The van hit a patch of ice, slid into the guardrail, past it, and flipped into the ditch.
When the world finally stopped spinning, Remy released his seatbelt and righted himself. He made his way forward as Logan cut himself free. Scott blinked awake, hand going to his glasses automatically, shocked that they were still on his face. "Status," he gasped.
"Don't smell gas. Smell blood. Ya hurt, Slim?"
"Y-yeah, actually," Scott said in surprise as a sharp pain invaded his consciousness.
"Rems, yer smaller. Get over here and see what's happenin'."
"Oui." Remy slid into the small area. "See it. Got a branch in his side. Gotta cut it before we can get y' out, Cyke."
Scott patted Remy's knee, eyes dropping closed. Logan kicked out the windshield and crawled into the snow. Remy wedged his shoulder under Scott's to keep him from resting his full weight on the shoulder strap. Scott sucked in a gasp of pain and it echoed down Remy's spine. He had to reach out and absorb it. He couldn't stand other people's pain, only his own, and never, never the pain of someone he cared about. His mental touch was softer then Xavier's or even Jean's. It wasn't like their telepathy. Scott let the softness through his shields. It insulated him from the agony that was the branch rustling as Logan located it.
Remy bit his lip and forced himself not to double over in pain as they shifted Scott out of the van and into the woods. Despite the blizzard there was shelter there. Logan built a quick flooring of branches as Remy fetched the sleeping bags that Scott and Jean had never taken out after their camping trip.
"Ya can't keep it up, Gumbo," Logan stated softly. "Yer gonna make yerself sick. Let him keep the pain, Darlin'."
Gambit nodded. Scott cursed. His hand went to his side and found Logan's hand holding a compress to the wound. Remy brought back the first aid kit and some chemical warmers. He activated one and slipped it under Scott's shirt against his chest. Remy dialed the Mansion as he walked up to the wreck. "Stormy?" he yelled. He huddled in the car out of the wind. "We crashed. As fast as y' can get here'd be nice. Scott's hurt." He gave her directions and hung up. In this weather they might never get through. He set flares up on the shoulder of the road. No one would stop in this weather, but maybe they'd be able to keep someone else from crashing. Then, Remy settled down next to the others. He took over pressure so Logan could find some firewood. He wrapped Scott's mind to ease his pain again.
"What you doing, Remy?" Scott asked fuzzy from the pain, the cold and the soft sensation.
"Takin' away y'r pain f' a few minutes. Can't do it f' long or Wolvie'll start yellin' at me."
"Why?" Scott shivered and the Cajun curled closer, wrapping the sleeping bag more firmly around his patient.
"Cuz it makes him sick," Logan said dropping down the wood and piling it up on the snow. "Light this, Gumbo." Remy pulled off his glove with his teeth. He charged a piece of kindling and let it flame up. Logan put his glove back on for him so he wouldn't have to let go. "I'm gonna get some more. No more'n five minutes, Remy. Swear to God I'll make ya stop."
"How?"
"Knock ya out if I gotta. Don't make me."
"How would he know?" Scott asked, brain clearing a bit more without the pain.
"He can smell it. Knows when I'm charmin' him or someone else. Says it smells sweeter'n normal. M' charge smells like Stormy's lightning."
"Interesting. How much blood have I lost?"
Remy shivered. "Mais, I don' know. Couple pints. Gonna need major help, cher. Stormy's comin' wit' Hank."
Remy wrapped his free arm around Scott's chest and settled his chin on his head. Scott was falling asleep. Remy removed his charm slowly and he woke. "Je suis desole, Scotty. Big dog'll take me down f' real if he t'inks I’m hurtin' m'self."
"S'okay, Remy." Scott arched. "Take the damn thing out."
"Sorry, cher, can't."
"When'd you start calling me that?"
"Just reflex, Cyke. Sorry."
"I don't mind it, I was just wondering."
"Mais, t'ink it was when I was outta t'ings f' awhile. Takin' a break like m' pup-pup does."
Scott snickered then cursed. He found himself snuggling further into the Cajun's grip. Logan settled down next to them and fed the fire. Scott twitched. "Hey, runt."
"Hey, slim."
"I'm not doing too well, here."
"Scott?" Logan stroked Scott's forehead. He met the Cajun's frightened eyes. "We'll take care of ya, Cyke."
"Shut up and listen to me. I might not make it out of this. This blizzard is too thick for flying which means they'll have to drive. I'm still bleeding. I'm getting cold. And I'm still harboring that damned cold that had Hank fussing over me."
"Scott," Logan started, then paused.
"Cher, can y' take over? Gotta take a leak." Logan snorted and they changed places. Remy went no further than the opposite side of the van. He didn't need to pee, he just wanted to give them an excuse to be alone. Not to mention throw up without Logan causing a fuss. He knew he'd taken on too much of the Scott's pain, on top of Logan's guilt and grief and his own panic. He leaned against the van and bowed his head in prayer.
"That was tactful," Scott said with a whimper.
"Yeah," Logan whispered.
"Where was I? Oh, yeah. I love you, you stubborn red-head chasing, lumberjack mother-fucker."
"Love you too, prick. Shit, Slim. Why didn't ya tell me? At least when Jeannie took up with Ro."
"Because you were chasing a pretty little thief."
"I wasn't."
"Bullshit. Please take it out, Logan."
"I'm not gonna risk it. Ya just hang on, boy."
"Logan?"
"Yeah?"
"Kiss me."
"Sure, Slim." Logan twisted so he could kiss Scott's mouth. It was a gentle sweet kiss and Logan would be damned if it was the last one he got.
Remy watched from the shelter of the car as Scott and Logan kissed. He pulled in a lungful of smoke. His eyes pricked and he willed the tears away. Logan settled back behind his patient. He raised an impatient hand at Remy, hoping that his night-vision would let him see through the storm. He pointed at the spot next to him, where the Cajun was supposed to be instead of off smoking where he was out of hand range. Remy picked his way back to them, shivering. He knelt down next to Scott. He offered him his frog silently. Scott smiled and tucked the little toy close to his heart, then reached out for the thief's hand. "Come here, Cajun." Remy snuggled close, as if he was just sneaking in for the night, but outside the sleeping bag, much to Logan's displeasure. It was unzipped and they were using the second bag as a spread on top of the wood. Scott stroked the Cajun's hair. He didn't bother saying anything, just projected his love towards the young man. Remy trembled.
"Y' tellin' Remy true?"
"What do you think?" Remy nodded, hair brushing Scott's throat.
The thief was listening to Scott's heart in dismay. The rhythm wasn't normal. "Scotty, mais. . ." He sat up a bit. Scott pulled him into a soft kiss.
"Be good, Gambit. G'night, Runt."
"Don't ya fuckin' dare," Logan said, laying Scott out flat. Remy shoved the spare firewood under Scott's legs to lift them. He'd hoped Scott wouldn't go into shock at all. Logan's ears focussed on Scott's heart. He heard it stutter, then stop. He started CPR. The heart came back. It was weak, but there. Scott was breathing on his own, but faintly. Remy went to the van. He searched under the seat until he found Xavier's travelling blanket. He brought it back triumphantly. Logan nodded and tucked it around Scott's head and shoulders. "Pressure. Hard," he snapped and the Cajun nodded. He pressed down as hard as he could. They couldn't put a turniquet on this area. A shudder of pain ran up Remy's arm. He realized that the blood was actually touching his wrist. It had soaked up into his glove.
Scott's heart shuddered to a stop once more. Logan started it again. He wouldn't react until he got home. His lover was doing his best, but Remy was best in battle, not in a hospital situation. Any type of medical procedure tended to spark of anxiety at the very least and panic at the worst. "Don't ya dare, Cyke. Ya ain't goin' nowhere after that little show, asshole."
Remy reached out with his charm. He'd never tried to catch hold of someone without talking. Then he realized that he didn't need to. "Scott, y' hear me? Y' don't leave m' like this. Everyone done gone and left m'. Don't lie t' me, cher. Y' tell m' y' love me, then y' leave. Y' as bad as any of the rest of them." Scott's anger was bright and sharp and Remy was glad to sense it. "Y' leave, what I'm sayin' is true. Y' know it, cher. Y' know what it's like when they leave y' behind. Need y' around f' awhile longer." Logan felt Scott's heartbeat steady out. It was still thin, but it was steady. He finally started listening to what the Cajun was saying and raised his brows. "Come on, cher, don't leave m' alone wit' Logan. How's Remy supposed t' take care of him wit'out y' t' keep him in line. Y' know he t'inks of m' as a pup. He don't never listen t' m'. Need y' t' keep him in line f' m'. Ain't that what de boss is f'? Come on, Cyke. Y' got t' stay. Don' know what'll happen if'n someone else got t' lead the team. Stormy don't want the position. An' Jeannie, we bot' know she ain't up f' leadin' the team int' battle. She's the house-mom, oui, but battle? Non. De only battles she knows be the kitchen fights. Hang in there, Cyke. T'ink of what Bobby'd do if'n he had t' lead? He'd have a stroke, dat's what. Or Henri? Oui, ain't that a laugh? He ain't got the heart f' it." Logan tuned out. The Cajun had the right idea. Appealing to Scott's responsible streak was the best way to keep him there. Scott's hand squeezed the little frog and Remy felt his eyes pricking again. He blamed it on the storm. Remy kept talking, even as Hank came bounding through the snow like a blue Yeti with the ever faithful Bobby on his tail. That at least made sense. Bobby formed a shelter above them as Hank bent to examine Scott's condition.
*****
Remy slipped into the lab while Hank was getting his traditional midnight snack from the kitchen. They'd managed to at least get all the supplies from the van, though they figured it would be at least a week before they'd be able to get the wreckage back into the garage. There was no use in writing it off, since they had at least three people who were happy to waste the time on restoring it. The thief looked down at Scott. The man was far too still. His breathing was shallow, but Hank saw no need to keep him on a respirator. Remy slid the cleaned little frog under Scott's hand and it closed around the cloth as he slipped out.
*****
Logan brought Hank breakfast and went to check on Scott. The field leader was supposedly out of danger, but he'd be sore for awhile. The Shi'ar equipment could only do so much. He was physically healed, but he was weak. Hank had set up a sun-lamp to turn on and off with sunrise and sunset, even though you couldn't see either by looking out the main windows. Scott absorbed light. His powers thrived on it. When he was out of the sun for long periods he got snappish. Logan brushed a kiss across Scott's forehead. "Ya better wake up soon, Slim."
*****
Scott grumbled at Hank's list of restrictions. "What *can* I do?" he demanded.
"Relax."
"I'm going insane, Hank! Let me out of here."
"You're worse than Gambit!" Hank shook his head. "Have you returned his frog?"
Scott shook his head and clutched the little secret more tightly.
Hank looked more closely. "Oh my stars and garters. Does he know?"
"Hell no. I'd never tell him. First off, I'm not his type. Secondly, he's with Logan and I'm married."
"And your wife is seeing another woman," Hank pointed out.
"Does *everyone* know about that?"
"Warren doesn't."
"Duh."
Hank smiled. Warren was notoriously bad for noticing even blatant sexual situations. Which was why Scott and Betsy had the occasional meeting. Betsy had even come to Hank asking if Warren had "problems" that he didn't want to discuss with her. After being assured that Warren was physically fine she'd left with a deep frown. "I don't think it would be unwelcome, Scott."
"I'm not going to break them up."
"How about joining them?"
"Henry McCoy!"
"It's an honest question. As your physician I think it would be good for you to get out. You enjoy spending time with them. And given Gambit's history, not necessarily out of the question."
Scott stared at the doctor. "No. Read my lips, you furry blue preacher of insanity, I am not doing it."
Hank held up his hand. "Fine." He continued the litany. Finally, Scott was allowed to rest in his own room. Jean tucked him in with a kiss to the forehead.
"Stay?" he asked with his best little boy look. She caved, rolling her eyes.
She climbed into the bed next to him and held him until he fell asleep. She watched his even breathing with a smile. Then went upstairs to spend the night with her lover. She and Scott rarely spent time in the same room these days.
*****
Remy shifted against Logan's side. He was shivering and that woke the Canadian. Logan dragged the blanket back up over the Cajun's back. He smiled sleepily at the young man. He wondered idly how Scott was doing. Supposedly, Hank was going to let him out sometime tonight. Logan doubted it. Hank would keep Scott as long as he could. Remy's fingers clenched and he snuggled closer. Remy whimpered eyes moving rapidly under his lids. Logan's brows furrowed. "Hey, kid, wake up. Remy, wake up," he said more firmly. Remy's eyes flickered open. They were very far away, but they cleared rapidly.
Remy smiled up at his lover. "Logan? Wha' y' wan'?" he mumbled still sleepy.
"Ya were havin' a nightmare."
Remy shrugged. "So?"
"I don't like ya scared." Remy flushed. Logan was as hot as small furnace and he was feeling so good that Remy's head was spinning a little. In the middle of the night there were no shields between them. Logan raised his brows. "Feelin' good, boy?"
"Oui, Ole man. Y' make m' feel even better?"
"Yer a nympho, kid."
"So?"
"So ya got to cool it fer a while."
"Why?" Remy whined. "Ain't like y' can't handle it."
"Cuz I wanna talk to ya about Cyke."
Remy snorted. "T'ought we went over dis, cher. If he denies lovin' us, we let him be."
"No, *you* said that. I ain't agreed to it."
"But Logan. . ."
"Shut it, Rems." Remy did so, letting the Canadian gather his thoughts. "I'm not lettin' him off the hook. Ya mind if I fuck him?"
"Non, but it be more fun wit' t'ree of us."
"What ya thinkin'?"
"A Scotty sandwich. I wanna feel that boy's cock in my mouth somethin' fierce."
Logan licked his lips. "Shit."
"Y'll do." Remy said stroking the erection.
"Focus, Rems."
"It's four in the mornin', Logan."
"Focus. What are we gonna do about Slim?"
"Let him choose. It ain't our right t' do anyt'in."
"He admitted to it once."
"He was dyin'. That ain't somet'in' y' hold a man to."
"Remy," Logan growled.
"What? I'm tellin' y' true, cher. Y' can't make a man live up t' a deathbed confession."
"Ya obviously ain't seen me in action."
Remy snickered. Logan's hand slipped down to cup the boy's tight ass. "Mais, Remy should warn po' Scotty."
Logan smacked the Cajun's nose lightly. "Don't you dare, Darlin'."
"How y' gonna stop m'?"
"Don't tempt me."
"Oooo, y' talk so tough, Logan."
Logan kissed the younger man to shut him up for a moment. "Shut up and listen to me, boy."
"Yes, sir, M. Logan, sir."
"Ya sound like Sam. Where was I? Oh yeah, Slim. I ain't gonna let him get away with playin' this off. Ya ain't got no trouble with him in the bed?"
"Dis is me we talkin' 'bout, oui?"
"My little slut." Logan's tone was affectionate and Remy reveled in it. He could get drunk off of emotions like that. "So, I ain't gonna let him escape. Besides, I'm thinkin' ya want yer frog back."
Remy shifted, a blush rising to his cheeks. "That'd be nice, but it ain't necessary."
"Shut up, Rems."
"Make me."
Logan explored the spiced confines of Remy's mouth with his tongue, effectively quieting the Cajun.
*****
Scott woke when the pain-killers wore off. He squeezed the little frog. Staring down into the little button eyes, he realized that he'd have to give it back. Remy'd never ask for it. He didn't think he'd get back to sleep again. He sat up. His side protested. He was mostly healed, but he still had stitches in his side, and he ached all over. He got out of bed. It was five in the morning. That was a perfectly reasonable time to be up he decided. He made his way to the kitchen. He blinked in the bright light of the room. He stared. Gambit was making breakfast.
"Sit down, cher. Remy cook y' somet'in' too."
"You know how to make breakfast?"
"I only get up at noon cuz I been goin' t' bed at t'ree," Remy pointed out. "What y' like t' eat in the mornin'?"
Logan smothered his laugh with a cough. Scott looked at him suspiciously. "Scrambled eggs would be nice."
"An' some nice tea wit' honey f' y'r t'roat? Y' said that flu was still hauntin' y'."
"Sure. I'm easy."
Scott thought he heard Logan mutter "I wish." And he was sure he saw Remy shoot the Canadian a warning glance.
"So what exactly did I say when I was in shock?"
"If'n y' don' remember, well, I f' one ain't gonna tell y'."
"Maybe I do remember and I just want to see if you were paying attention."
Remy rolled his eyes and turned back to the stove. "Y' do us all a favor and not make us tell y'. If'n y' want t' take it all back, I ain't gonna hold it against y'."
"Take it back?" Scott shook his head. "Give it back perhaps."
"Quoi?"
"There's this little green critter here. I think he's homesick." Remy smiled, but didn't turn. Scott set the little frog on the table next to Gambit's place. Logan nodded and mouthed a thank you. "You haven't told me what I said."
"Y' didn't say not'in' t' Remy." Remy sighed. "Don' know what y' said t' Logan." Remy glanced over his shoulder with a wink. "Y' did kiss him though. 'Bout did him in, I t'ink."
"Rems, stop teasin' Cyke."
"Why?"
"Because I'll take ya over my knee."
"Don't threaten him in my presence. I'm supposed to do something about it."
"Really?" Remy blinked. "Ain't never done anyt'in' before."
Scott shrugged. "I'm supposed to report abuse. Or at least stop it. Or something like that." Scott frowned. "But you are over 18 right? Right?" he asked suddenly.
"Oui. Goin' on somet'in' like 23 me. Don' worry, Cyke. Even legal t' drink." Remy filled the plates and put them on the table. He grabbed his frog and tucked it away in one smooth movement. Then, he took his mug and perched on his favorite part of the counter so that he could make faces at the back of Scott's head. Scott looked over his shoulder suspiciously.
"Tell me the truth, Logan. Does he sit there just so he can make fun of me?"
"Yup."
"Brat."
"He is that. Cute though, don't ya think?"
"Okay, I really need to know what I said."
"Ya said ya loved me, Cyke. You remember that?"
Scott paled. "Oh shit. I didn't mean to, well, fuck."
"What's wrong, cher? Y' think Remy's gonna be jealous?" Scott could hear the chiding tone. "I don't mind that y' love him. I known that f' as long as I been here. It's in y'r posture. 'Sides, I know y' love Jeannie too." Scott swallowed. "And seems t' Remy that y' showed him a nice bit of affection when y' t'ought y' were dyin'." Remy's tone was light, as if he were discussing the weather. "And m' lil' green friend here tells m' y' ain't lied t' me."
"That frog's a bigger gossip than you are."
"That he is," Remy agreed. "He tells m' all sorts of t'ings and he ain't never lied about them. He's a good listener. Gives good advice too."
"Yer both touched in the head."
"Wouldn't be fuckin' y' if I weren't," Remy retorted. "Besides, we ain't talkin' about me right now, are we?"
"Listen, I don't want to. . ."
"To deal with this? It ain't like we're gonna get mad at ya."
"No. Will you just let me talk for once?"
"I don't know if I should."
"Why? Because you're scared of what I'm going to say? For fuck's sake, Logan, shut up!" Scott sipped his coffee as Remy snickered softly behind him. "That goes for you too, Gumbo." When the two fell silent, Scott continued. "I was going to say, that yes, I do love you, but I don't want to get in the way of your relationship. I don't want this to cause any problems for you."
"Ah, cher, Logan's had a hard on f' y' since Remy got here. And don't be t'inkin' that Remy don't like y'. And Remy, he's a nice sort. Shares his toys an' everyt'in'." Remy put his arms around Scott's neck. "Don' profess t' love y'. Lust after y', hell yes. And Logan? He's been wantin' y' in his bed f' so long that it nearly makes him sick t' t'ink of it."
"I'm not in the market for lust, Cajun."
Remy rolled his eyes. "Scotty, it's like this. Y' know Logan loves y'?"
"I figured it was more of a brother sort of deal."
"Brother in the old, Sumerian sense of the term, maybe," Logan grinned. "I love ya, Slim. You and Jeannie, and the Cajun. And I know Jeannie ain't interested." Scott snorted. "She ain't. She's a one person kind of gal. And I weren't gonna say a word to ya. But ya came out and told me ya loved me and I can't let that go." Remy settled his head on Scott's shoulder.
"I don't make declarations much, cher. And I don't hold by them much either. Remy's had a lot of people up and leave him. Most everybody he ever cared f' actually. Even m' own family turned m' out. So if'n I can't say I love y', it don't mean that I don't. And if y' don' mind sharin' f' awhile, mebbe we can see how this'll run itself out. Won't do none of us any harm t' have a go at it."
"It could break several hearts," Scott stated. "It's better not to even start."
"But if we don't, we gonna be haunted by might have beens. And regrets are worse than a broken heart, cher. Bon temps, cher. Live f' t'day. We could die t'morrow. Ain't none of us got a great life expectancy. Not even, M. Logan over there. He don't know what'll happen t'morrow, or if someday he'll find out that somethin' can actually kill him. So, cher, it's like this. If we don't try, we don't lose, but we don't win neither. Stop bein' safe and sensible and sane f' a minute. Take a chance. Even if it's just one night, it's better than never knowin'. F' now, we try this. Y' let Logan and me look after y' 'til Hank says y' okay. We try t' get t' really understand each other. We try to figure out how t' be friends."
"I'll take that deal," Scott said softly. "We'll see how things go. This ain't going to be easy though. I'm not really emotionally stable."
Logan snorted. "Neither's he. Ain't stopped me yet. Don't worry, Slim. We'll take good care of ya."
Scott sipped at his tea. "Thanks for breakfast, Gumbo."
"By the by, cher, m' name is Remy."
Scott blinked. He considered for a moment. "Thanks, Remy."
"Y're welcome, Scott."
Logan was looking at Remy oddly. "Thought ya didn't mind bein' called 'gumbo'."
"Don't mind it. Just don't like it. Y' know who callt Remy that first?"
Logan's eyes narrowed. "Creed."
"On the nose, cher. On the nose." Remy shrugged. "Don't mind it. If'n y' take t' callin' me 'punk' we gonna have trouble though."
Scott shook his head. "It's not in my standard vocabulary. I've been thinking, while I'm cooped up in bed, I want some information."
"Information?" Remy looked out the back window. "It's snowin' out. It better be network accessible cuz this boy ain't settin' foot out in that shit."
"Oh, it's all sitting in your brain."
"What y' want info about?" The thief's voice held a note of suspicion.
Scott grinned. "Your ex-employer."
"Fuck."
"Later. Information now."
"Eat up, cher. Y're gonna need y'r strength."
Logan rolled his eyes. He patted his knee and the thief settled on his lap. The conversation lapsed into a comfortable silence. The snow fell into soft drifts against the house.
FINIS