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Fic- Sweet Lies (1/1) Scott/Remy [PG-13] X2

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  • dream_etcher
    Title: Sweet Lies Author: Nari Email: dream_etcher@yahoo.com Feedback: Please yes. Good or bad, I d just like to know people are reading it. Distribution: Want
    Message 1 of 1 , Jan 6, 2005
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      Title: Sweet Lies
      Author: Nari
      Email: dream_etcher@...
      Feedback: Please yes. Good or bad, I'd just like to know people
      are
      reading it.
      Distribution: Want it, take it but please tell me where it's
      going.
      Rating: PG-13
      Pairing: Scott/Remy
      Summary: He's tired of being alone and old patterns are far too
      easy
      to fall into. X2 movieverse
      Disclaimer: This story is written for entertainment purposes only.
      The characters belong to Marvel and fox I'm only playing with
      them
      for a bit. Probably traumatizing them in the process but it just
      makes them more interesting.




      Sweet Lies

      Another beautiful New York night. Or at least one that suited his
      mood perfectly. Cold and misty and gray. Typical. The day had
      started out promising, actually showing a hint of sun from behind
      the clouds. Didn't last long of course. Nothing seemed to these
      days.

      Not even loves that were supposed to last forever. Love that was
      supposedly meant to be, that fate had made sure would happen.
      That's
      what everybody had always told him. He and Jean were meant to be
      together. Perfect soul mates. He had believed them. He'd counted
      himself lucky that such a perfect woman would be interested in a
      skinny kid off the streets. Of course the fact that he was the only
      other male there probably helped that interest along a lot.

      So perfect days, filled with perfect happiness. A perfect existence.
      But he remembers a saying somewhere, anything perfect was lying. It
      was a lie. Everything he and Jean had, or everything he thought they
      had. An act put on for the people around them. Worse, for themselves.

      He didn't know why Jean did it. Put on that act. Maybe she felt pity
      for him; maybe she thought it was the right thing to do. Hell, maybe
      it was just something to amuse herself with until the right guy came
      along. He knew that was just being petty though. She probably hadn't
      even realized it was a lie. She had just never had the chance to
      figure it out. That it wasn't love, it was delusion.

      He knew very well why he lied. Lied so well that he could even
      believe in it himself. He was afraid. He couldn't be alone, he'd had
      that enough. After his parents and brother died, in the orphanage,
      on the streets. Alone too often that he couldn't deal with it
      anymore. So when Jean came along he was eager for her attention, did
      anything he could to get her to notice him in his own often shy
      bumbling way.

      Miracle of miracles, she'd responded to him. Flirted back and asked
      him out since he was to shy to do it himself. Perhaps she had been
      lonely as well. And people called it fate, they were kindred.
      Desperate would have been a better word. Actions brought out of
      desperation rarely end very well. This wouldn't be an exception.

      There were no fireworks, no huge fight at the end of it all. Because
      underneath everything they knew their own lies. When Logan came and
      Jean drifted to him it wasn't a surprise. The only surprise was that
      it hadn't happened before.

      When she came to him a few nights after Logan's arrival to say it
      was over, it was horribly easy to say okay. Snapping their
      connection like snapping a dry twig. It hurt but not in the way it
      should have. His heart didn't break. His world didn't feel like it
      was about to end. It hurt because his fear came back, he was alone
      again.

      Suddenly his bed was empty. His life was empty. No one to remind him
      that he was real in the middle of the night. No one to show him that
      there were some people in this world that still cared. No one to
      keep him anchored. To keep him distracted from thoughts or memories
      that still managed to plague him in the silence.

      It was always worse at night, when the silence was complete. When
      there was no one there to wake up to and remind him that he wasn't
      still a helpless kid on the streets.

      He couldn't do it anymore. He needed that connection with someone.
      Anyone. Just for a night, for a moment. Just needed that anchor to
      this world again and out of his thoughts.

      Which was why, two weeks after Jean left him he was out on the
      streets of New York just as it was starting to get seriously dark.
      The mist was starting to turn to rain and he pulled his long coat
      tighter around him. He was coming up to the seedier area of the
      streets. Where used needles and condoms seemed to litter the gutters
      and alleyways. Rats could be seen from the shadows of buildings when
      the light reflected from their eyes. Homeless people slept wherever
      there was even slight shelter from the cold night. He knew if he
      kept walking he would run into what he was looking for.

      Sure enough, a block later and he could see the forms of a few
      people leaning up against the buildings through the hazy murk of
      night. Street kids trying to make a living. He had always been
      thankful that this was something he had never had to resort to. He
      hadn't been on the streets long enough for it to become an issue.

      He continued to walk along the street past them, shoulders hunched
      slightly against the rain. They were too young. Just kids. He
      spotted another up ahead. Tall and lean and lanky. Still just a kid,
      probably in his late teens. Still too old to get the business that
      the younger ones probably got. Long messy hair. Sunglasses at night.
      He raised an eyebrow at that. Not that he could talk since he wore
      them as well. He wondered what the kid's reason for it was though.

      The kid seemed to notice his scrutiny and raised an eyebrow back at
      him. He realized that he had stopped walking, was staring openly.
      After a moment of what seemed to be indecision, like the kid wasn't
      sure if having the attention was a good or bad thing, he was
      approached. A fine fingered hand lifted to rest on his chest
      lightly. That eyebrow was still raised over the rim of the kid's
      glasses.

      "Y' jus' gonna stand dere starin' all night?" An accent. Strong,
      almost gutter. Probably Cajun he thought. Exotic way up here in New
      York. That hand ran down his chest to his stomach. It elicited a
      slight shiver but he caught the kids hand and gently pushed it away.

      "Come on." He turned on his heel and walked down the street. He just
      caught the kids smirk as he turned away. Footsteps behind him told
      him that the kid was right on his heels. The hotel he was heading to
      was only a few blocks away. Nice enough that rats wouldn't be a
      worry but run down enough that they wouldn't get much of a second
      look.

      The kid - and he was really getting sick of thinking about him in
      that way - followed along without a word or complaint. The silence
      made him feel compelled to say something. He already felt enough
      discomfort at what he was doing. He didn't need the slightly
      uncomfortable silence adding to that.

      He glanced back over his shoulder at the kid to see that he was
      staring at the ground, not paying any attention to where they were
      going. "What's your name?"

      The kid startled out of whatever dismal thoughts he was in and
      looked up. Scott wondered how often people asked him that question.
      After a moment of wary suspicion the kid answered. "'S Remy."

      He nodded slightly. Didn't offer his own name. If the kid - Remy -
      wanted to know then he'd ask. It wasn't a surprise when Remy went
      back to silently staring at the street as he walked. Scott sighed
      and went back to his own thoughts, tried not to show the nervousness
      that was starting to creep up at the fact he was actually doing
      this. He needed it though. Remy needed the money.

      The hotel came into clear view, just a few minutes walk away. He
      must have been walking quickly to have reached it already. It made
      him wonder just how much he was truly looking forward to this. To
      having someone if only for one night. He could lie to himself and
      pretend it was more.

      He went in, told Remy to wait while he went and got a room. Remy did
      as he was told without question, seeming to blend into his
      surroundings and become invisible as he waited, unmoving for Scott
      to come back.

      As he thought the desk clerk barely gave them a look as she handed
      over the card key to a room with a king bed. Scott took it with a
      quick thanks and went back to Remy, motioned for him to follow him
      to the elevators. Again, Remy followed without a word or question.

      A room on the second floor, bare of everything but what was
      absolutely needed, waited for them. A bed along one wall, a desk
      across from it and a TV in the corner. A small bathroom by the door.
      Plain and simple but Scott didn't need anything else.

      He motioned to the bathroom when they stepped in. "Shower if you
      want."

      Remy nodded and stepped into the bathroom quickly, shutting the door
      behind him. Scott moved over to the bed, shucking his jacket and
      taking his wallet out of his back pocket, putting both on the desk.
      He sat heavily onto the edge of the bed, ran a hand through his
      hair. Started to wonder if this had been such a good idea. He wasn't
      going to turn back now though, not when he wanted it so badly.

      It wasn't long before Remy was done and walking out of the bathroom.
      Scott glanced up at him. Instantly looked away again when his eyes
      encountered an expanse of bare chest. Then he told himself not to be
      stupid and looked up again. He watched as Remy, towel slung around
      his waist, walked over to the desk and snatched up his wallet. He
      raised his eyebrows but didn't stop him as Remy looked through it
      and extracted fifty dollars which was all he had.

      Remy turned a cocky smile on him. "Payment, neh?" Scott only nodded.
      Remy seemed satisfied and moved over to stand in front of him.
      Raised a hand to run through his hair. Scott brought his hands up
      almost instinctually and rested them on Remy's hips. A moment later
      and Remy was leaning over to whisper into Scott's ear, lips just
      brushing.

      "What do y' want, cher?" The hand in Scott's hair trailed down the
      back of his neck.

      "Not this." As he used his hands on Remy's hips to gently push him
      back. Remy stepped back, hands falling to his sides and frowning.
      Scott could imagine him blinking from behind the sunglasses. "I
      don't want... sex. It's not what I'm here for."

      "Den y' in de wrong place." He was clearly confused, starting to get
      wary.

      Scott hurried to calm him. "No. I just... I want to lay here. I want
      to sleep and I want to hold you. That's it."

      Remy studied him with narrowed eyes for another moment before
      shrugging like it wasn't anything strange. He had most likely heard
      far stranger. He nodded but clearly wasn't sure what was expected of
      him now.

      Scott gave him a reassuring smile and gestured with a nod to the
      bed. "Lay down."

      A slight hesitation and then Remy did as he was told. He dropped the
      towel and slid under the covers to lie on his back, still looking
      unsure. Scott stood, slowly stripped to boxers and a t-shirt.
      Ignored the fact that Remy was obviously watching his every move.
      The lights were shut off, then he crossed back to the bed and lay
      under the covers as well.

      Remy turned his head to look at him, still with a slight frown,
      slightly tense. Scott ignored this and shifted closer, nudging Remy
      to roll onto his side away from him. Remy did so and he pressed up
      behind him, fitting himself to Remy, wrapping his arms around him
      and holding him close.

      "This okay?" Whispered close to Remy's ear.

      "Oui." Almost breathlessly. Like no one ever bothered to just hold
      him before. Probably didn't. Scott held him a little tighter, as
      much for Remy as himself now. Felt as the tension seemed to bleed
      out and Remy relaxed back against him. He let out a sigh and relaxed
      as well, closed his eyes and tried not to think about how much he
      would be loath to give this up in the morning.

      Sleep was easy for the first time in weeks. It didn't matter that
      Jean wasn't the one he was holding, just as long as there was
      someone. Another heartbeat in the room, the sound of another
      person's easy breaths. He fell asleep easily to thoughts of the kid
      next to him. He was too skinny, too young. The glasses were a
      mystery and now he knew what it was like for other people to wonder
      why he had his. He didn't dare ask though for fear that Remy would
      return the question and ask about his own glasses.

      But what if - and God, weren't 'what if's' annoying - what if Remy
      wore the glasses for a similar reason to himself. Shouldn't he try
      to find out? It was his job to help mutants in trouble. Although he
      almost doubted that Remy would accept any help in the first place.

      The kid in his arms was too skinny. Something he had noticed the
      moment he set eyes on him, leaning against the building as if he
      hadn't a care in the world. Now he could feel Remy's backbone
      clearly against his chest, could easily count Remy's ribs where his
      arms were wrapped around him. Saw the scars that showed just how
      hard his life on the streets had been.

      It wasn't the reason he had come out here tonight though. He'd never
      had any noble intentions of helping whoever he took to bed tonight.
      He was helping with the simple fact that he was getting a kid off
      the streets for something that amounted to nothing more than a
      night's sleep. That was better, knowing that at least if Remy were
      here with him he wasn't off with someone else getting hurt.

      He still wondered about the glasses though.

      #

      Morning left him feeling lonely and empty again. He'd known that it
      would but at least he had gotten one nights rest and he did feel
      much better for it.

      Remy was suspicious of him in the morning again when he handed over
      a card to the Xavier Institute and told him to call and ask for
      Scott if ever needed any help. He doubted that Remy would ever do it
      but he had to at least try. Even if it was only to ease his own
      conscience more than anything.

      He resisted the urge to ask about the glasses but it must have been
      obvious that he was curious. Remy seemed not to even notice Scott's
      own or if he did, he did a good job of hiding it.

      They got dressed and headed their separate ways. Remy to wherever it
      was he stayed during the day, in an alley or in some run down dollar
      a day apartment. Scott back to the mansion and the questions that
      surely waited for him about his overnight absence.

      Three days later there was a call from the hospital. A street kid
      had been found in the alley beaten. Not badly enough that he would
      die but badly enough that he was in hospital for a few days for
      observation. The only thing they had found on him was a card from
      the institute with Scott's name. So they called him and asked him to
      come.

      The kid was wrapped in bandages. Various cuts, covered in bruises.
      Pissed off as hell to be where he was. Glared death at Scott when he
      walked through the door to his room and pretended that he hadn't
      just been trying to get off the bed to escape.

      Scott didn't even notice. Too busy staring at red eyes that were
      nearly blazing in quiet fury. Well that explained the glasses then.
      A wonder the hospital had even bothered to treat the boy. There was
      even more bristling from the bed as Scott stepped closer.

      "What de hell are y' doin' here?" There was a
      definite sneer there.
      Scott only stared levelly back at him.

      "They found the card in your pocket. Asked me to come – "

      He was cut off and couldn't help but scowl at the
      interruption. "What? T' come look after me? Don' need
      takin' care
      of." Stubborn set to his jaw and Scott sighed.

      "Judging from your current situation, I'd kinda say you
      do."

      "Fuck off."

      He rolled his eyes. Probably a good thing Remy couldn't see that,
      Scott hardly needed him any angrier than he was already. He put on
      the patient tone he used with the kids at the school.

      "Remy – "A hand on his shoulder made him jump and spin
      around to
      face the... doctor. The rather nervous looking doctor. He lowered
      the fist he had raised and had been ready to swing. He really needed
      to pull himself together. Remy snickered from the bed and Scott shot
      him a warning glance, completely ineffectual from behind red
      sunglasses.

      A muttered apology from the doctor, who didn't sound sorry at
      all,
      as he tried to collect himself. "I'll need to speak with you
      for a
      moment, Mr.. Summers." No, `can I speak to you' or
      `would it be
      alright'. A curt demand and Scott nodded with a frown.

      The doctor turned and walked from the room. A glance at Remy,
      watching them suspiciously from the bed, and Scott followed.

      "What is it?" Short and to the point. If doc guy wasn't
      going to be
      polite, then Scott saw no reason he should be either. There was no
      doubt his brusque manor was due to Remy's obviously mutant eyes.

      "That boy needs to go."

      "Why?" Gritted his teeth and schooled himself to keep his
      temper. "He hardly looks in any shape to leave yet."

      "He shouldn't have been treated in the first place. Doctor
      Stevens
      is far too kind hearted." His voice was disgusted. "This
      hospital
      doesn't admit mutants. Take him or he'll be put back out onto
      the
      streets."

      "Right. Of course." Nodded his understanding. The Doctor,
      finally
      taking a glance at the tag Scott saw his name was Murry, looked
      relieved by his agreement. Scott grinned and buried his fist into
      Murry's face. A satisfying crack and seconds later Murry was
      laying
      on the ground groaning. Scott sighed inwardly. He could already hear
      the Professor's lecture. Control your temper. He couldn't
      bring
      himself to feel guilty though and stepped back into Remy's room
      as a
      shocked nurse ran to Murry's aid.

      Remy sat up in bed and craned his neck to see around Scott.
      "Did y' jus' hit dat guy?"

      Scott didn't bother with an answer. Grabbed Remy's rather
      worse for
      wear clothes that were sitting in the corner on a chair. Tossed them
      onto the bed.

      "Get dressed. We're leaving." Preferably before security
      could show
      up to `escort' them out.

      Remy looked at him, stubborn glint back in his eyes. Didn't touch
      the clothes. "What makes y' t'ink I'm gonna go
      anywhere wit' y'?"

      "The fact you don't really have a choice." He paused to
      listen to
      the noise outside the room. Remy looked at him doubtfully and he
      sighed. "Look... You can't stay here, they won't let you.
      And you
      can't go back onto the streets like that, you wouldn't last.
      Come
      with me until you've healed, then you can do as you like."

      He was studied for a moment before Remy must have realized,
      begrudgingly, that he was right. What other choice was there? He
      grabbed up his clothes and began the painstaking process of
      struggling into them. Scott watched silently for a moment before,
      admittedly stupidly, opening his mouth.

      "Do you need help?" The glare Remy sent his way was more than
      enough
      answer. If looks could kill. He glanced away from the look to see
      two security personnel come into the room. Scott gave them what he
      hoped was a patronizing enough smile. "We were just leaving.
      Right,
      Remy?"

      This time he didn't jump as a hand was laid on his shoulder and
      Remy
      stepped up beside him. "Oui, homme."

      Without another word he walked out past the slightly confused
      looking guards, Remy at his side.

      Outside without anymore trouble and Scott could finally let himself
      relax. A little at least. Hard to relax when you've got a red
      eyed
      mutants critical stare boring into your back.

      Heading for where he had left his car, he went slowly enough that
      Remy could keep up. It was becoming obvious that the injuries were
      bothering him and he favored his right leg. Pausing to unlock the
      car once they reached it, Remy let out an impressed sound.

      "Y' rich or somet'in'?"

      Scott smiled. "Or something. I'm not the one that paid for
      this."

      "Steal it?" Clearly not thinking that there would be
      something wrong
      in that. He got a half-hearted glare in reply.

      "A gift. Now get in." Opening the door for him then going
      around to
      the driver's side. Surprised when Remy actually did as he said,
      climbing in and slamming the door shut.

      "Gift? Y' got some rich relatives den." Something not
      unlike envy in
      his tone.

      "Something like that." As he got in as well, hands gripping
      the
      steering wheel but not yet starting the engine. Felt Remy's
      curious,
      wary gaze on him. "The place I'm taking you to is a school.
      Caters
      specifically to mutants." Best tell him now so he's not
      shocked when
      they get to there and see some of the less ordinary looking students.

      "Y' a mutant den to?"

      "Yeah." Vaguely gestured at the glasses. "Force
      beams."

      "Cool." Easily accepting. "We gonna sit in de parking lot
      for de
      rest of de day den?"

      Scott smiled at him. Shakes his head and lets the cars engine roar
      to life. "No."

      After initial surprise at the size of the mansion Remy fell into a
      sullen silence. High-strung and tense, he greeted the other kids
      with nothing more than wary looks. Sticks close to Scott and he
      can't help but feel a perverse pleasure at the show of trust. He
      thinks he can understand, at least vaguely. Remy has never been in
      this situation before, doesn't know what's expected or how to
      handle
      it. It can be a terrifying task.

      So the kids got a look from him that nearly sends them all scurrying
      away and he takes a rattled Remy upstairs. Managed to locate an
      empty room and tell Remy that it's his for as long as he likes.

      Remy asks the predictable question after taking in the room.
      "What
      do y' want?" Because no way this could be for free. Except
      that it
      was.

      Scott shrugged in reply. Not phased by the question because he'd
      heard it far too many times. Asked it himself. "You get to have
      monitor duty. If you decide to stay, when you're feeling better
      you'll get dishes."

      Remy looked at him in guarded surprise. "Y' want me t' do
      chores?"

      "Everybody has to help out and pull their weight. Until
      you're
      feeling up to it, monitor duty will be easiest."

      "...Right." That suspicious look was back again.

      Scott grinned. "Welcome to the Xavier Institute." Remy just
      looked
      at him. "Dinner is at seven. Don't be late." With that he
      turned and
      walked from the room, carefully shutting the door behind him. Prayed
      that Remy would actually show up to eat.

      #

      Come dinner time and there was no sign of Remy. No surprise really.
      Scott let it be, for the moment at least. He went to his own room
      instead. Lost in thoughts of red haired women, stupid dangerous men
      and street kids that he wasn't sure how to deal with.

      Thoughts of street kids turned to memories of streets. He frowned
      and opened his eyes, not sure when he had even closed them. Stared
      up at his ceiling from where he was lying on his back on the bed. It
      was dark. He'd fallen asleep at some point. Didn't feel
      rested
      though. Nightmares that he couldn't remember or didn't want
      to made
      a real rest a near impossibility.

      He shuddered as the thoughts suddenly made themselves prominent in
      his mind. Too easy to imagine himself back on the streets. Alone and
      in the dark.

      He rolled to his side to flick on the lamp that rested on the
      nightstand before the unwanted daydream could become too close to
      real. Very nearly screamed when glowing red eyes peered at him from
      the darkness and he snatched his hand back before he could hit the
      switch.

      Tried to get his suddenly quick breathing back to normal. The light
      was flicked on, dimly illuminating the room. He glared at Remy.

      "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" Remy just blinked
      back
      and he sighed. Ran a hand through his hair. "Is something the
      matter?"

      "Non." It was a nearly breathless whisper and Scott frowned.
      Very
      nearly jolted when Remy's hand reached out and touched his arm. A
      brief flash of being alone and abandoned on cold streets. No one to
      reach out and touch him then. Had to resist the urge to pull Remy
      closer.

      "Go back to bed."

      Wrong thing to say. Remy moved quickly, all fluid grace despite his
      recent injuries, to move onto the bed and straddle Scott's hips.

      "To your own bed, Remy." Through gritted teeth as he tried
      not to
      react to the warm body. Failed effort. He wanted this. This
      connection. This anchor to the here and now. Remy knew.

      "Ain't nothin' for free, homme. An' I don' plan
      on waiting t' see
      what y' might be askin' for." Offering to pay for the
      help now.
      Scott still couldn't find it in him to truly protest. The
      thoughts
      were too close. Hovering, ready to take him over, Remy leaned in to
      whisper in his ear. Lips brushed lightly. "'Sides, know y'
      want dis.
      Know y' lonely."

      His breath caught slightly. Hands raised to rest on Remy's hips.
      Just looked at the kid for a moment. Was met with an even red eyed
      gaze. Almost daring him to take it. He already knew he was going to.

      An easy movement had Remy flipped onto his back, staring up as Scott
      nearly loomed over him. Slight pain in those eyes from the injuries.
      They both ignored it. Slid hands up his sides, counted ribs and made
      a mental note to make the kid eat more. Reached his shoulders and
      carried on down his arms to thin wrists. Closed his hands around
      them and brought them up. Stretching arms over Remy's head,
      pinning
      them against the pillow, one hand easily holding both wrists now.
      The other brought to rest on the bed beside Remy and keep his
      balance.

      No protests from Remy. No noise, no movement to encourage or
      discourage. Slightly quickened breath to show he was still there.
      Hadn't retreated. Kissed back when Scott closed his mouth over
      his.
      Scott was certain he was going to hell for this.

      Didn't stop.

      Not ever, if he had anything to say about it. He needed the
      connection that Remy gave him. Remy needed the safety, the assurance
      that came with paying the full price. For as long as he needed to
      keep paying it. A situation easily turned into love.

      Delusion. Deception. Such a sweet lie. And such a vicious circle.
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