The MCRT, Morlocks, MGH and Murder

Part 2: Chapter 26

The decision to take Willa to the school immediately was not a contested one; it was a new environment the girl needed and it was what she received. But amidst the pomp and circumstance that made the X-mansion incredible, perhaps Willa did not feel welcome, or at ease. Maybe she never would again.

Remy knew one thing, though, Logan wouldn’t make that better. He barreled his way through the hallway now, viciously intent on getting answers. On MGH, on Marjorie, something. None of it was appropriate right now.

Remy was long-legged enough to catch up to him. He managed to get around him and block his way to the door. “Logan, wait.”

Logan snarled and pushed his arm away, but Remy was persistent. “Let me do this,” he said.

Logan managed a snort. He didn’t need to pass his keen eyes over Remy; the younger man’s exhaustion was his most prevailing feature at the moment. He hardly had a voice and looked as if he could fall asleep at a moment’s notice. He snorted again, as if Remy’s idea was despicable. “Kid just saw her sister in a trash can. You can’t handle that. You ain’t even dealt with your cousin’s bloated body yet. How you gonna deal with this?”

The blast from the past hit hard, as it always did, and Remy remembered vividly his cousin Etienne drowning in the river when he was supposed to be watching him. Every single emotion he had felt and still felt came rolling in and threatened to overtake him. How dare Logan go there? Just to prove some point?

Logan continued, “We don’t need a pity party, Cajun, we need answers and she remembers them now. You let her cry on your shoulder then she’ll start making stuff up. I know you’re gonna go in there and tell her it ain’t her fault. But, it ain’t a matter of fault. It’s death. Death’s hard. You gotta deal with that. So deal.” It was less of a challenge than it sounded. Logan knew what would go down in the interview with this girl. It was simple – girl lost someone close when she was doing something she wanted to do. Very reminiscent of Remy’s issue.

Remy let Logan talk but he refused to take anymore. Not right now. His glazed over, hardened expression obvious, as he said, “She’s scared, Logan.” Working on just routine emotional responses, he lowered his voice, which to be honest, hurt more than speaking in his normal voice. He hoped that he would convince Logan to do the same. “And let’s face it, you’re scary.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. Remy hadn’t heard a damn word he had just said. Of course, if he hadn’t listened to reason by now about his cousin’s death, perhaps he never would. The kid had never properly learned how to deal with guilt. But, Logan thought, maybe Remy had a point of his own. Better to use honey than vinegar if you wanted flies, right? Or whatever the expression was. “Fine. Have it your way, Cajun. But then you’re gonna deal.”

His way? What fucking part of this entire conversation did Logan think had gone Remy’s way? And right, as if Logan would know anything about dealing. The man had more anger problems than an abused pit bull. And though he knew it was frayed emotions and exhaustion that made him snap at the older man, he didn’t even attempt to hold back. He was at least doing a bang up job of picking fights today. “I don’t take conditions from you.”

“Wanna bet?” Logan snarled back and shoved his solid meaty frame against Remy, forcing him against the wall.

One of Logan’s arms was pressing hard against his rib cage and the other was raised into the air, a silent threat that he might release his claws right into Remy’s throat. An indication that perhaps Logan was a bit stressed out, too. About a different thing entirely, though. He could care less about the girl on the other side of the wall; his main concern was Remy.

“Get the hell off me. This is still my case,” Remy warned without much fervor as he struggled to breathe. He knew damn well if Logan had wanted to puncture his abdomen or tear his head off, he could.

“You’ll take the rest of the day off, conscious or unconscious, your choice,” Logan said, looking up at Remy with his eyes blazing mad. Then he released him.

Remy walked away from him, coughing, without giving him the satisfaction of answering him. Logan muttered under his breath, “You asked for it. Stubborn frickin’ coon ass.”

Remy didn’t hear him, and wouldn’t have replied if he had, but before he entered the room he calmed himself, realizing his temper wouldn’t help the situation. If anything would.


All of Willa’s recount could be watered down to one thing: guilt. Willa had wanted something for herself, a little time to blow off steam before deciding what was best for her and her sister. She had gone with Sara to a party; the girl was new to the streets, but pretty good with general rebellion. And, of course, Cora had to come, because Willa hadn’t left the kid alone for longer than a few minutes since they were left alone. But, in the midst of the atmosphere of the party – a place not suitable for Cora – the girl slipped away and Willa found her an hour or so later. Just like that.

Remy managed to write down what was important or at least he hoped so, but spent most of the time while hearing her choked up words thinking about Etienne. The pirogue upended in the muddy river. His visibility diminishing with each dive as he searched. The effects the water and the animals had on Etienne’s body; slipping flesh and no eyes.

Willa stopped talking and looked to Remy for his approval. He blinked, trying to remove the visions of a closed casket and his aunt sobbing uncontrollably out of his mind. He took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, but regretted it as he felt an uncomfortable wave of grief pass through him and hit him hard and sourly in the gut. “It’s alright, Willa. You’ve done a lot. Thank you for your time.” He knew his answer sounded foreign, wooden, but it was the only thing he could muster. He managed to leave the room in a hurry without making it look as such.

Logan was right at the door. He had heard every word shared between Remy and the kid with no sister as he paced back and forth. He also listened, as only he could to the subtleties within the conversation. And it pissed him right off. He had every intention of telling Remy so; that he had been right and Remy had been wrong. Had botched the interview, probably. He went to grab Remy by the arm as he exited, with the intent to make good on his threat, but Remy held up a hand and pushed past him, entering the restroom just five feet away. Logan gave him the essence of privacy as he heard the younger man getting sick.



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