Big fat warning!

 

Please read this warning carefully and then decide wether or not to read  "Eyes of a child".

 

In this story I describe Remy's childhood in an Alternate Universe. Remy escapes from the Antiquary, but ends up on the streets of New Orleans where he has to survive on his own. He doesn't have any real friends and is forced to sell his body to stay alive. Remy is a nine year hustler in this story and the sexual acts are described in a graphic manner. There is even one scene in which Remy faces rape. If you don't like to read these kind of stories go back and chose another story or go to another site. Please do not write me, telling me I've got a sick mind. This is fanfiction and like all my other stories this one will have a happy end.

 

Bye

Morgana

January 2002

 

 

 

Prologue

 

 

1976, New Orleans.

 

"I succeeded at last!" The doctor's triumphant cry echoed through the room, overpowering everything, even the newborn's frightened cries and sobs. Roughly, he pushed the baby's eyelids further apart and grinned. "Red on black..."

 

"Please... doctor... Doctor Essex, please give me my child!" Exhausted, the mother tried to struggle upright, but she was bleeding internally, slowly bleeding to death. The need to hold her baby overwhelmed her and she didn't even wonder why her doctor wasn't taking care of her.

 

"He's mine now," Essex spat, impatiently. "I have no more need for you." While holding the baby in his left hand, he placed his right on her throat and his fingers began to squeeze the life out of her. "Puny humans... you die so easily."

 

While watching the life flee her body, he rocked the baby, trying to calm him down. The baby's screams would surely attract unwanted attention. "You belong to me," he whispered, cocking his head to study the baby. The mother's chest rose one more time, then collapsed in death. "You're mine."

 

"Doctor Essex?" Several voices sounded from the other side of the door and Essex acted quickly. He placed the baby on the bed next to his mother and pretended to be performing CPR when the medical team crashed into the room.

 

"It's too late. She's dead, but the baby seems healthy." Essex quickly cradled the baby in his arms. "You take care of her remains and I'll run some tests on the baby to make sure there are no complications." Ignoring the medical staff, he left the room, carrying the baby with him.

 

His eyes flashed red, briefly, then turned human again. Soon, soon the baby would be in his laboratory and he could conduct every experiment he'd ever wanted to!

 

The baby cried again and tears dripped down his face as if mourning his mother's death.

 

///

 

"We must carry out de Antiquary's orders, Jean-Luc. If he wants de chile, let him have it! It's an abomination!"

 

Jean-Luc felt used and angry. The Antiquary had miraculously appeared in his home and demanded he steal a child and bring the baby to him. The Antiquary had even given him the address and the room number!

 

"Somet'in' feels wrong, Etienne. It feels wrong to condemn anot'er chile to de Velvet Ministry. We don' know what he does to dem, mais..." He had visited the Antiquary’s home a few times and the children there had reminded him of the living dead. Their eyes were vacant and their voices flat.

 

"He protects de T'ieves Guild, Jean-Luc! Wit'out him, de Assassins would have seized control a long time ago. We need him!" Etienne followed Jean-Luc, as the master thief led him through the hospital corridors. "De chile ain' even human!"

 

Jean-Luc cursed privately. The Antiquary had told them that the baby had red on black eyes and that it was the Devil's mark on him so the old man wanted the child for his collection. "Etienne, he's only a bébé! What 'bout de mère?"

 

"Dat ain' our problem, Jean-Luc." Etienne halted in front of room 414. "Dis is it. De chile should be in here."

Jean-Luc opened the door and soundlessly slipped inside. Looking at the crib, he saw a small baby, far too small and he pushed back part of the blanket to reveal the baby's face. A divine smile greeted him and then the large eyes opened. He'd always been a sucker for big baby eyes, except... these were red on black. "Mon Dieu, it's true."

 

Looking closer he saw tear tracks down the baby's face. "He's been cryin'." Unable to control his instincts, he reached out and touched the baby's face, caressing it gently. Picking him up, he cradled the boy against his chest, rocking it.

 

"Jean-Luc, we need to leave! I hear footsteps closin' in on us." Etienne opened the window, swung a rope to the opposite roof and returned to Jean-Luc. "We got to go... now!"

 

"De Devil's eyes and an angel's smile... Etienne, we can' give him to de Antiquary!"

 

"We must!" Etienne pushed his friend toward the window. "Hurry!"

 

Jean-Luc looked back at the crib, and wished he could put the baby back. "He should be wit' his mère..." But Etienne jolted him into action and he followed his fellow thief to the opposite roof.

 

The baby began to cry softly and the tiny hands blindly reached for him. Jean-Luc fought back a tear. How can I justify handin' you over to de Antiquary? He'll ruin your life, petit, mais I don' have a choice.  He offered the baby his left thumb and the child suckled on it. The smile returned to the boy's face and the alien eyes seemed to flare with comfort. I'm sorry, petit. I wish dere was anot'er way...

 

While maintaining a tight hold on the baby boy, he threw back his head. Heavy rain began to fall and it was almost like the heavens shed the tears he couldn't cry.

 

///

 

The Antiquary held his breath, delighted that Jean-Luc LeBeau had carried out his orders and had brought him the child. The two thieves now stood in front of him and Jean-Luc was clutching the baby protectively. "Give him to me," he whispered, slowly.

 

Jean-Luc shivered, hearing the old man's tone and reluctantly placed the baby in the Antiquary's arms.

 

"Blanc, you will paint me, paint me while I'm holding the chile in my arms!" The Antiquary posed while his assistant, a young man called Blanc, began sketching.

 

"Monsieur, de chile is wet and cold... mebbe he needs some milk, non?" Jean-Luc had found some blood on the baby's body while carrying him and had realized with a shock that he was truly carrying a newborn. The baby was only a few hours old!

 

"Later!" The Antiquary straightened his back and threw back his head in glorious victory. "De chile is mine and I decide what he needs and doesn't!"

 

The baby began to scream and his head lolled against the old man's chest. The tiny body was shivering and Jean-Luc's hands turned into fists. Why? Why does he want dis chile so bad? Why dis one?

 

"Because he's special, Jean-Luc," the Antiquary whispered, contently. "Dis

newborn is more powerful dan you and I will ever be. He will keep me alive, sustain me..."

 

Puzzled, Jean-Luc tried to make sense of the old man's last remark, but failed. "Respectfully Antiquary, mais de bébé needs...."

 

"Rien!" The Antiquary sneered. "You bore me to death, LeBeau, leave me!"

Etienne trembled, feeling the old man's power. "Jean-Luc, let's go. We did our job; we did well. We can go home to our families now."

 

Jean-Luc felt paralyzed as Etienne pulled him toward the doorway. The baby boy was crying again and the cries made him flinch. I can' leave him here!

 

Suddenly, he was standing in the corridor and the door behind him slammed shut, jolting him from his thoughts and back to reality. I left him dere! I left him dere! I should have opposed de old man! I should have...

 

"Jean-Luc? Let's go home. I'm sure Henri will want to see his père and Claire is waiting for her husband to join dem for dinner. You have a family to go home to. Forget 'bout de abomination. De Antiquary will protect de Guild from de Devil's spawn." Etienne smiled and pushed Jean-Luc toward the front door.

 

Jean-Luc was tempted to run back, snatch the baby from the monster's arms, but knew his attempt to save the child would be useless. The Antiquary would never let go of his possessions. I'll come back and help you escape, I promise, petit.

 

Determined to help the boy, Jean-Luc let Etienne guide him back on to the street. He had to bide his time and wait for the right opportunity to spring the child

 

///

 

"No!" Essex' face contorted with anger at finding the baby gone. "No, it's impossible! I only left the room for five minutes! He can't be gone!" Fed by his anger, the transformation into Sinister started. Cold, red eyes locked on the crib and he could still feel the baby's body heat when he placed his hand inside the crib.

 

"All these years... all this work... the genes, lost... It will take me years, maybe even decades to re-construct his DNA!" Stunned, he looked at the open window. Someone had taken the baby, if only he knew who had dared to cross him. "The gene pool... lost... those precious genes..."

 

Standing tall, he looked out over the city. How hard could it be to find a baby with alien eyes? I'll find you and when I do, I'll never let you out of my laboratory again.

 

End Prologue.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Chapter one

The Antiquary

 

"Come here, Mauve," the Antiquary hissed, selecting one child from the twenty kneeling in front of him. While the chosen child approached, he felt red on black eyes on him, settling on his back. "Don' you dare move, Noir, or you'll pay for your disobedience in ways you can’t imagine."

 

The boy called Mauve hesitantly approached and he smiled, faking his friendliness. "Come here, chile." He'd given them names derived from colors to make sure they never found out their real names. Mauve came to a halt in front of him and he raised his bony hand to caress the boy's beautiful face. "Boticelli might have painted you as one of his divine angels." His fingers tangled in the boy's long hair and he nodded his head, staring into the mauve colored eyes. "You're special too, mon fils."

 

From the corner of his eyes he caught Noir flinch and he picked up anger and fear from the young mutant. The red on black eyes still fascinated him after nine years. "I'll call you to me later, Noir. Now stay on your knees and don' move!"

 

The boy's jaw set firmly, hearing that he was next. Mauve couldn't give the Antiquary the life energy the old man needed, so the Antiquary would call another... and another, until he felt strong again. Noir, he hated his name, hated the impersonal way the old monster treated them. Although it was evening they hadn't had a bite to eat all day and he had been kneeling next to the old man's chair for countless hours.

 

"Rose, Rouge, hold Mauve while I... take care of my needs," the Antiquary ordered and waited for the two older boys to wrap their arms around Mauve. "I'm so hungry, chile... so hungry."

 

Although the Antiquary wanted them to watch, Noir averted his eyes, knowing what would happen from personal experience.

 

The Antiquary placed his hands on both sides of Mauve's head and then pressed his chapped lips against the boy's, instigating a brutal kiss. Mauve struggled, but the hold was too tight and the Antiquary delighted in feeling the boy's fear and panic. His mind shifted, invaded the boy's and he relished the energy and power from the young mutant that would now sustain him. He needed their energy, their power. It was the only way he could exist. If he stopped feeding on them he would be dead within weeks.

 

Noir glanced at them and watched as the white energy rose from Mauve's lips and flowed into the Antiquary's mouth. Mauve was twitching, no longer trying to break free. Rose and Rouge had to support him or he would have fallen. The Antiquary, the leech, was still sucking the life energy from Mauve.

 

And after he finished wit' Mauve it's my turn... He shivered violently, knowing the Antiquary would drain him in a few minutes. If only it didn't hurt so much!

 

"Oui!" The Antiquary cried out in ecstasy, dropping Mauve onto the floor. "Now get me that one," he told the two other boys while pointing at Noir.

 

"Non, m'sieur, please... don' do it. You fed on me only yesterday... I still feel weak. Dere's li'l I can give you!" But his pleas were in vain as Rose and Rouge grabbed him roughly, dragging him to his feet so the Antiquary could easily brush his lips to start the energy transfer. "Please, M'sieur..." he sobbed, trying to mentally prepare himself for the pain, but failing miserably.

 

"Ah, you're très beau, petit... You're the strongest here, Noir... the strongest and the most beau. You'll keep me alive. When you are old and broken, your powers will still ensure my strength. I'll keep you forever..."

 

"Non..." he sobbed, struggling against the hold, but the boys only tightened it. "Please, non..." He tried to back away when the Antiquary leaned in closer, but Rouge cupped the back of his head in his hand and kept him steady. "Non..." The old man's lips brushed his and his body tensed completely, knowing the familiar pain would envelop him within seconds, and yes, it had started already.

 

The Antiquary's mind moved into his, placing itself over his thoughts as a shield, making it impossible for him to think clearly. The old man raced through his thoughts, his dreams, his hopes until he finally arrived at his core. 'Yes...' the Antiquary sighed inside his mind, tapping into his powers and draining him.

 

His breath was coming in spurts and his sight had grown blurry. Rose and Rouge were still holding him up and the Antiquary towered above him, smirking triumphantly. His knees gave out beneath him and he swayed on his feet. Rouge and Rose laid him down on the floor and the old man followed, never letting go of his lips. Please stop, m'sieur, hurts!

 

Be quiet, Noir, I'm not finished yet!

 

Hearing the Antiquary's voice in his mind always scared the hell out of him and he pinched his eyes shut, trying to lock out the pain. But the Antiquary's face stared back at him from within his soul and the pain was building. His bones were turning to jelly, his blood stilled in his veins, his eyes went dry and shriveled... the pain was too much and he passed out.

 

Displeased, the Antiquary released the boy's lips. This one's power was so strong, so young, so vital and it was tempting to feed on him every day, but he had to restrain himself or he'd kill the boy within weeks. "Make sure he rests... And look after Mauve as well," he added, barely acknowledging the two boys. As he sat down on his chair, he felt vibrant and alive.

 

///

 

"Noir? Noir? Can you hear me, mon ami?"

 

The pleading voice finally penetrated the fog surrounding his thoughts and he opened his red on black eyes. "Merde..." he whispered. "Can' move, Mauve."

 

Mauve struggled onto his knees and crawled toward him. "You look sick, Noir. How long did he have you?"

 

"Too long." He tried to shift onto his left side to lessen the nausea that was threatening to overwhelm him. He didn't want to throw up all over himself! "Did dey leave us some water?"

 

Mauve looked about and smiled, seeing a full water bottle. "Oui." He reached for it, uncapped it and helped his friend sit upright. "Take a few sips, leave some for me..."

 

Noir moaned as the cool and comforting liquid flowed down his throat. "He never held on dat long 'fore..." He still felt the old man's presence in his mind, watching him, making him a prisoner in his own mind. It was the worst invasion of his being he'd ever experienced.

 

"Hey, I want more water!" But Mauve was emptying the bottle himself. Being the weaker one he couldn't stop Mauve and told himself to be grateful for the little water Mauve had given him.

 

Lying down again, he tried to make himself as comfortable as possible on the dirty mattress. "How long do you t'ink he will keep us here?" He was scared to close his eyes, scared the Antiquary would suddenly call for him again.

 

Mauve shrugged his shoulders and laid down beside his friend, trying to get as close as possible to soak up Noir's body heat. "A few hours? A few days? He'll let us go once we've got our strength back."

 

"Den we can go back to our beds and get some sleep..."

 

The boys didn't understand why the Antiquary ordered the ones he had fed on to be taken to this basement. It was cold and dark, and the mattress damp and worn.

 

Suddenly the door opened and Rouge stepped inside. The sixteen year old red headed boy shyly entered the basement and put a tray filled with sandwiches and wine in front of them. "He wants you to eat. You can return to your rooms when you can walk on your own." Rouge backed away and locked the door behind him. "I'm sorry... sorry we had to hold you down..." The whispered words drifted through the door and into the basement.

 

How many times had he heard their apologies? Oui, they felt sorry, but they still did what the old monster said! "Mauve! Gimme a sandwich!"

 

"I'm hungry, Noir!" Reluctantly, Mauve handed his friend a sandwich. "You can have de wine, I'll stick to de water."

 

"I don' wanna drink de wine eit'er," Noir whispered; it would make him feel out of control.

 

"Too bad!" Mauve grabbed the water bottle and squeezed the last drops from it.

 

Slowly, Noir reached for the wine and sipped it. It took away his awful thirst and would make him fall asleep again. "Dis is hell, Mauve... what did we do to deserve hell? We didn' commit no crime...did we?"

 

Mauve shrugged his shoulders again. "It's betta dan livin' on de streets, mon ami. We don' have parents and we're... different. We wouldn' survive on our own."

 

After finishing his sandwich, Noir sipped from the wine once more and then snuggled up on the mattress. "I'd survive... I would..."

 

"Forget about it, Noir. He'll never let you go! We'll all die sustainin' him." The boy's tone softened briefly. "I know it's harder on you dan for us. He feeds on you almost every day and... I know how much it hurts."

 

Closing his eyes, he pretended to be asleep. I can' stay here! I'll die if I stay. Mon Dieu, please let me find a way out! Please!  Too tired from the recent power drain, his eyes slipped shut and he fell asleep.

 

Mauve unwrapped the blanket from his own form and draped it over his friend, knowing Noir needed the warmth.

 

///

 

"I can walk," he said, determinedly, and allowed Mauve to support him unnoticed.

 

Rose, convinced that the boys could walk, nodded his head. "Return to your rooms and wait until de Antiquary calls for you 'gain." Rose left them alone.

 

"Mauve, I can' make it on my own," he admitted. "My head's spinnin' and..."

 

"Bien, Noir, hold on to me. I'll take you to your room." Mauve kept a close eye on his surroundings, knowing he would be in a lot of trouble if the Antiquary caught him supporting his friend.

 

"Merci, Mauve, merci..."

 

Together they mastered the stairs and Mauve helped him lie down on his bed. The luxury of the room stood in stark contrast to the basement. Silk sheets, a burning fire place, and garments made from the finest linen, gave the room a false sense of home.

 

"You'll be bien, Noir. I'm goin' to my own room, now, bien?" Mauve felt nervous; the Antiquary didn't want the boys to befriend each other and they were already closer than was allowed.

 

"Oui, go," he whispered, pulling the warm, soft comforter over his body and hiding beneath it. "Mais leave de light on!" Although bright lights hurt his eyes he couldn't sleep in the complete dark any longer, not after he'd found the Antiquary at his bedside one night, ready to claim his lips and drain him.

 

"Sure," Mauve said reassuringly and turned the nightlight on. "Bien?" Mauve softly closed the door behind him and headed for his own room.

 

"Bien," Noir sighed contentedly. Feeling warm, his eyes closed again, only to flash open again when he heard noises coming from the doorway. He elbowed himself into a sitting position and found that the old man was standing in the doorway. Shivers ran up and down his spine and his teeth chattered.

 

The old man seemed to float inside, his feet never touching the ground. "You served me well tonight."

 

Too weak to jump up from the bed, he could only stare as the ghastly apparition advanced on him. What does he want from me? Why me?

 

"From now on you won' leave your room without my explicit permission."

 

The red on black eyes widened. "Why m'sieur? Did I displease you?" He wouldn't see Mauve or any of the other boys again if he was confined to his room!

 

"You're gettin' too friendly with the others and I can' allow dat. You'll spend your days in here." He raised his hand and tangled it in the boy's silken hair. "You're too valuable, Noir."

 

He shuddered beneath the touch and sighed, relieved when the old man left his room. Looking about, he took in his room, his new prison. Non! I won' stay! I will find a way to get 'way from him!

 

///

 

"Noir! The Antiquary wants you at his side. I'm here to help you get dressed." Jaune stormed into his room, looking dazed and nervous. "We only have ten minutes to get you ready."

 

"I ain' sure I can get to my feet," he whispered, feeling weaker than ever before. This last week the old man had fed on him every night and he was barely able to push down the blanket.

 

"You're supposed to drink dis, hurry!" Jaune, a fifteen year old boy with white hair and haunted green eyes handed him a goblet filled with a dark liquid.

 

It wasn't the first time the Antiquary had ordered him to drink this vile substance. It would strengthen him temporarily and then he'd crash hard. He had no way out and emptied the goblet. "Why does he want me to come downstairs?" He felt like a rag doll when Jaune began to dress him in a blue silk shirt and black, velvet trousers.

 

"He's expecting a visitor... an important one," Jaune revealed as he finished dressing Noir. Quickly, he combed the long auburn hair and he let it hang loose, just the way the Antiquary liked it. After helping the boy to step into his shoes, he shooed Noir toward the doorway.

 

He stumbled over his own two feet after being horizontal this last week. Jaune caught him and he held on, making it downstairs. Slowly, the Antiquary's concoction began to take effect and he felt stronger, experimentally brushing off Jaune's arm. Yes, he could walk on his own. He had to!

 

///

 

"Stand beside me and don' speak or move without my permission," the Antiquary said, pleased that the boy was standing at his side.

 

"Oui, m'sieur." Noir leaned slightly against the wall behind him. When the old man didn't reprimand him, he sighed softly. This way he could make it through the next few hours.

 

"Jean-Luc LeBeau, Patriarch of the Thieves Guild of New Orleans, wishes an audience with you, Antiquary."

 

"Who are you?" The Antiquary's eyes narrowed.

 

"My name is Henri LeBeau and I'm the Patriarch’s son," Henri said proudly.

 

The Antiquary nodded his head. "Let him enter, but tell him to remain at a distance."

 

Henri joined his father and the two Cajuns returned again, standing in front of the Antiquary, then kneeling and bowing their heads. "Merci for granting us dis audience, Antiquary," Henri said, while his eyes scanned the room. Twenty boys stood behind the throne, close to the Antiquary and they seemed confused, their eyes vacant and lost.

 

Jean-Luc was doing the same thing, checking the boys' faces, searching for the alien eyes that haunted him every night since he'd stolen the baby from the hospital. Looking up at the Antiquary his gaze was drawn to the pale and skinny boy next to the old man. The auburn hair reached the boy's shoulders and the red on black eyes were lowered; the boy was staring at the floor, seemingly oblivious to his surroundings. Or mebbe he's only actin'... tryin' to fool us.

 

Seeing the boy after nine long years shocked him. He'd tried before to get an audience with the Antiquary, but had always been denied that privilege... until now. The Assassins were gaining strength and they needed the Antiquary to set the balance straight again.

 

"So, de Assassins are causin' problems?" The Antiquary raised his hand and rested it on Noir's head, stroking the long hair absentmindedly.

 

He shivered under the caress, but forced himself to remain motionless. The old man always sensed his fear and he couldn't let his panic show in front of the other boys. They would only make fun of him later. They all feared the Antiquary and tried hard to gain his favor by making fun of the weaker ones.

 

"Oui, de fightin' started 'gain. T’ieves and Assassins are killin' each other. We need your help, Antiquary." Jean-Luc hated to grovel like this, but the Antiquary loved to feel in control and would be more inclined to help him. Unnoticed, he managed to keep an eye on the boy he had stolen from the hospital nine years ago. His plan had better work, because this was the only chance he'd get!

 

The Antiquary fingered a lock of auburn hair, considering Jean-Luc's request. The master thief had delivered the mutant boy into his hands years ago and he wanted to keep the Patriarch on his good side; Jean-Luc probably figured the Antiquary owed him. "Oui, I'll help de T’ieves regain their position. Now leave me. There are more... delicious matters I have to attend to."

 

Jean-Luc caught the boy's shivers and he wondered what had caused them. Did the Antiquary abuse the kids? Looking at their faces, he read the answer in their eyes; they were nothing but rag dolls, ready to carry out the Antiquary's orders. Contrary to the others, the red on black eyed boy still seemed defiant. Now, Etienne, now!

 

An explosion rocked the building and the children stared at each other in panic. The Antiquary was too surprised to act and the boys ran off in different directions as a huge smoke cloud drifted into the room.

 

Jean-Luc was already on his way to the boy when he found the spot next to the Antiquary empty. Merde, where did he go? Why didn' I keep my eye on him? I don' even know what name to call to get his attention!

 

The Antiquary composed himself and noticed the boy's disappearance as well. "Bring Noir to me, now go and find him!" The few boys that had stayed behind or had returned nodded their heads and went in search of Noir.

 

Noir, Jean-Luc thought. Who calls a boy Noir? De chile deserves a bon name! The Antiquary told him to leave the premises until they had figured out what had caused the explosion and he obeyed eagerly. I've got to find de chile! Mon Dieu, help him when he hits de streets! He knows rien 'bout life on de streets!

 

Jean-Luc's mouth turned dry, realizing what danger the boy was in.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Chapter two

Bourbon Street

 

 

Running, he was running harder than he ever had before and he didn't have any place to go. The moment he left the Antiquary's home, he crashed on to a busy street and people almost knocked him over. Men in suits, women in pretty dresses and kids running and whining were suddenly all around him. His eyes almost popped from their sockets and he flung himself against the wall, trying to hide from their eyes.

 

Shocked, he stared at the crowd. Although he was still trying to deal with the sudden noise, he noticed one thing straight away; his clothes made him seem oddly out of place. No one was wearing silk or velvet!

 

Moving, he had to keep moving and stay ahead of the Antiquary, who would doubtlessly hunt him down. Suddenly, a large man bounced into him, knocked him off his feet and he crawled back to his feet. The man hadn’t even apologized or helped him!

 

Dese people don' care, he realized with a start. He was all alone here. Yes, he had rid himself of the Antiquary, but now he was at the mercy of these strangers! Picking up speed, he moved with the crowd until he ended up on an even busier street. The sun was setting and a million lights were switching on, blinding him.

 

Moaning in pain, he managed to drag himself into an alley, where he massaged his throbbing brow and temples. He had told Mauve he could survive on his own, but now he was no longer sure of his survival skills. Maybe he should go back to the Antiquary? At least there he had shelter and food.

 

Non! I ain' goin' back, ever! Somehow he'd find a way to survive! Now that the darkness of the alley shielded his eyes, he took in his surroundings. The houses were all illuminated and there was writing on them. He cursed the Antiquary for not teaching him how to read or write; the old man had deemed that unnecessary.

 

Several men left the houses and swayed onto the street, singing and swinging a bottle. Their eyes were glazed and he shrunk back instinctively, trying to make himself invisible. Then he noticed the girls. They only wore tiny shirts and skirts and didn't seem cold at all, while he was freezing. They talked to the swaying men and tried to lure them back inside again.

 

Scared, yet curious at the same time, he watched the men disappear into the houses. Looking up, something caught his attention. A man and a woman had retreated into the alley as well and the man was panting hard. What are dey doin'? In the end, his curiosity won and he sneaked a little closer.

 

The woman had unbuttoned the man's trousers and... Noir cocked his head, trying to get a better look. She was pulling at something and... Why is she goin' down on her knees? One more step and he was close enough to see what they were doing.

 

Mon Dieu! What? Noir looked down at his own body and frowned. Why was the woman licking the man's penis? Why? Does he have to pee and can' and she's somehow helpin' him? It just didn't make any sense.

 

The man began to pant harder and Noir found himself holding his breath. He was unable to take his eyes off the scene, instinctively waiting for whatever would follow next. Noir gasped when the man clutched the woman's head and drove her against his stomach. She yelped softly and then cursed, while the man seemed to tense and shiver.

 

"Bastard!" she spat in disgust. "I said I didn't swallow. That'll cost you extra!"

 

The man laughed, buttoned up again and threw a piece of paper at her. "Here you've got another ten, whore."

 

Stunned, Noir backed away from them and collapsed against the wall, slowly sliding down onto the cobblestone where he wrapped his arms around his cold body. He didn't understand what he had witnessed, but feared knotted his stomach and he began to heave. The dry heaves only lasted a few minutes, but he felt wretched and exhausted.

 

"What do we have here?"

 

The voice startled him and he jumped to his feet. He wanted to start running, but a hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. A man, dressed in dark clothes, stood in front of him and left him no way out. "Lemme go, m'sieur, please!" He kicked; trying to struggle free, but the man effortlessly lifted him, until his feet were no longer in contact with the cobblestone. Lemme go! Don' take me back to de Antiquary.

 

A bright flashlight made him cry out in pain and he tried to cover his eyes with his hand. The big man didn't let him and he began to cry, overwhelmed by everything he had witnessed since fleeing the Antiquary's home. Mebbe Mauve was right. Mebbe I can' do this... mebbe I can' survive on my own, mais I can' go back eit'er...

 

"Are you hungry, kid?"

 

"De lights... hurt my eyes." He was shaking like a leaf and still trying to struggle free from the man's hold.

 

"Don't be scared, kid. My name is MacAfee, Officer MacAfee. I'm a cop." He tried to keep the shock from his voice, staring into red on black eyes. Why did the boy have alien eyes? Did it matter? The boy obviously needed help.

 

Suddenly his feet touched the cobblestone again and he hesitantly glanced up at the man. Friendly brown eyes stared back at him and the gentle grin on the man's face made him smile back. "M'sieur."

 

"What's a kid your age doing out here alone?" MacAfee leaned in closer, keeping his smile in place. The last thing he wanted was to scare the kid. "Where are your parents? Where do you life?"

 

"Parents?" He repeated the strange word. "What are parents?"

 

MacAfee's eyes grew big. "You got hit over the head or what? Maybe I should take you to the hospital."

 

Hospital? Non, don' like de sound of dat. I don' want to be locked up in some strange place.  Looking about, he decided that he wanted to stay on the streets where he could run into a deserted alley when necessary. His stomach growled hungrily and he wrapped his arms around his abdomen.

 

"Maybe we should grab a bite to eat?" MacAfee suggested. He would try to win the kid's trust and then take him to the hospital to have him checked out. The parents were probably going crazy, now that their kid was missing.

 

"Eat? As in food?" He was hungry and had no idea where and how to get something to eat. "Oui."

 

"Gimme your hand, kid." MacAfee extended his hand. He frowned as the boy jerked back and tried to hide in the shadows. "Okay, kid, I won't touch you, just let's get something to eat, alright?"

 

"Eat, oui..." The man moved away and he followed MacAfee, but never moved close enough for the man to touch him. Officer... the man had said he was an officer. "What's an officer?"

 

"I'm a cop," MacAfee explained; it was unbelievable that this kid didn't know what parents and cops were! "I take care of people who need help."

 

I need help... non, I don' need help! Can survive on my own!  He was almost knocked from his feet when they mixed with the crowd, but suddenly MacAfee had a strong hold on his shoulder and... Rose and Rouge were holding him down, making it easy for the Antiquary to drain him and... reliving the flashback, he broke free and began to run again.

 

"Hey, kid, wait for me!" MacAfee tried to follow the boy, but soon lost the kid amidst the crowd. "Damn! If the pimps get hold of him..." Feeling discouraged, MacAfee walked toward the coffee shop where he had wanted to buy the kid something to eat, but he remained alert, hoping to catch another glimpse of the boy.

 

///

 

The rainfall had worsened and his wet clothes clung to his body. His long hair obscured his face as he made his way down Bourbon Street. From beneath his hair he studied the scantily dressed girls, the drunk men and realized surviving on these streets would be hard. Again, hands grabbed him, but he shook them off.

 

"Come on, kid, go home with me. I'll even pay you fifty bucks!"

 

The proposal made him shiver. "Non, leave me alone," He managed to give the man the slip and retreated back into one of the alleys. A few steps away from him another boy accepted the money and pressed himself against the man, who led his prize away from the crowd.

 

Bucks... bucks is a different word for dollars, money... I overheard them talkin' and she asked him for fifty bucks and he gave her a piece of paper. She went into a store and bought somethin', givin' de shopkeeper dat piece of paper. Slowly, the world was beginning to make sense and it was an ugly world he found himself in.

 

"Got some change to spare? Monsieur? Got some change to spare? Some change?"

 

The words caught his attention and he saw an older boy leaning against the walls, holding up his hands. Sometimes a man or woman threw a coin into his open hands. Beggin', he's beggin'! Stunned, he looked at his own hands. I can do dat too!

 

Moving away from the alley, he mimicked the boy's words and moves. "Got some change to spare? Some change?" He held out his hand, watching the people's faces as they passed him by.

 

"Hey, this is my spot! Find your own or I'll kick your ass! Move it, shrimp!"

 

It was the boy he had mimicked, and he was awfully pissed off. Keeping his eyes lowered, he hoped the other boy hadn't caught sight of his alien eyes yet. "I'm sorry. I'll move on..."

 

"You'd better! If Monsieur Cardinale catches sight of you he'll want you for his stable."

 

"Stable?" Confused, he looked up at the other boy, forgetting about shielding his eyes.

 

"Sweet Jesus!" The other boy backed away and crossed himself.

 

"What? My eyes... I was born dat way, can' help it."

 

The boy eyed him suspiciously. "You're new around here, aren't you? The word would have been on the street by now if you'd been around for a while."

 

Feeling miserable, he leaned against the wall. "Please, I'm so cold and hungry..."

 

"What's your name, kid?"

 

"Noir."

 

"Noir? What kinda name is that?"

 

"De only one I have. He named me Noir."

 

"He? Your father?"

 

"Fat'er?" He looked pleading at the other boy. "What's a fat'er?"

 

"Your père, your poppa... The man who took care of you."

 

"Oui, then I guess he's my père. He named me Noir." Shivering from the cold, he tried to wrap the wet clothes more closely around his body. "What do I do?" he whispered, lost.

 

"My name's Philippe," the other boy introduced himself. "I'll take you to the shelter. The Salvation Army runs one on Bienville Street. Maybe they'll even let you spend the night there." 

 

"Merci." Philippe held out his right hand and he reluctantly took hold of it. "Where are we? What is dis place?"

 

Philippe frowned. "Bourbon Street."

 

"Are we still in N'Awlins?"

 

"Yes, but..." Philippe now noticed the old fashioned clothes the boy was wearing. "Where does your father life?"

 

He shivered. "Don' know," he whispered; it wasn't really a lie. He really didn't know where the Antiquary's house was situated. "How do I survive out here?"

 

Philippe's frown deepened. "You don't want to survive out here, kid. Go home, don't stay here!"

 

"Can' go home!" he exploded. "Hurts too much..." Flashbacks made him halt in his tracks and he tried to breathe through them, feeling the Antiquary's lips on his again, draining him...

 

Philippe shrugged his shoulders. "Should have known that your old man couldn't keep his dirty hands to himself. Isn't that why we all end up here?"

 

"What did 'your old man' do?" Philippe seemed to like him and he needed a friend if he wanted to survive on Bourbon Street.

 

"He abused me, kid..." Philippe briefly locked eyes with him. "Did he abuse you too?"

 

"Abuse?" He didn't know the word and tightened his hold on Philippe's hand. "What's abuse?"

 

Philippe released a strangled sigh. How was it possible that this kid didn't know these words? "Abuse is when someone uses your body against your will. You don't want him to touch you, but he still does and he hurts you a lot." He didn't know how else to explain it in terms the boy might understand.

 

"Oui," he whispered, nodding his head. The Antiquary had used him while he had tried to fight the old man off. The Antiquary had invaded his mind, had taken his life energy from him, leaving him exhausted and bruised. "He hurt me a lot."

 

"I'm sorry to hear that, kid, but that's life." Philippe cursed himself privately. He didn't have the time or the money to look after the boy. He had to take care of himself first! "Here's the shelter. Be polite and they'll help you. The people that run this shelter are okay."

 

"Merci for helpin' me, Philippe." He looked inside and saw several people carrying clothes and canned foods. Looking back at Philippe, he swallowed hard. "Will I see you 'gain?"

 

"You know where to find me, shrimp." Philippe ruffled the dirty hair, wondering what the kid's real hair color was. "But don't come there at night; it's much too dangerous for someone as young as you."

 

He nodded his head. "I'll find you... merci, Philippe."

 

Philippe pushed the boy inside. "Go ask them for some dry clothes and something to eat. If they got enough beds you can stay for the night as well." He waved at the little boy as he walked away.

 

Taking a deep breath, he walked up to an elderly woman who was sorting through a pile of clothes. She wore black clothes and a little hat, which struck him as funny and he grinned. "Madame?"

 

She looked up from her chore and raised an eyebrow. "Petit?" Taking in his appearance she shook her head. "You're cold and wet, petit and you need a shower." She grabbed his hand and pulled him along. "Here, take a shower and I'll put some dry clothes in dere by de time you're ready."

 

Totally overwhelmed, he accepted the dry towels and the bar of soap, which she pushed into his hands. "Merci, madame." After she had left the shower, he quickly stripped and stepped beneath the warm shower spray. Letting the warm water cascade down his body he took hold of the soap and worked up a lather, washing his hair as well. Feeling a little melancholy, he recalled the luxurious baths back at the Antiquary's home, but he wasn't going back there, ever!

 

"Chile? Get dressed! I got you some warm soup and bread!"

 

He recognized the woman's voice and quickly dried his skin and hair. She had placed underwear, a white T-shirt, a brown sweater, socks and a pair of jeans where his dirty clothes had been. Hesitantly, he dressed, left the shower cabin and went in search of her. "Madame."

 

"Ah, it's de petit. My name is Marie," she introduced herself and guided him to the kitchen. "Sit down, petit and start eating."

 

He shoveled the bread quickly into his mouth and looked toward her for more.

 

"Soup first," she chided him.

 

He quickly finished the soup and handed her the empty bowl. "More, please?"

 

Smiling, she refilled his bowl and handed him another piece of bread. After sitting down opposite him she watched him eat. "What's your name, petit?"

 

"Noir," he whispered between bites. He smiled at her; she had pretty blonde locks and friendly blue eyes. "Can I stay here?"

 

"For now, oui," Marie replied. "We got enough beds so you can stay de night. Tomorrow we'll start looking for your parents."

 

The spoon slipped from his fingers and crashed into the bowl. "Non! Don' wanna go back!"

 

Marie sighed deeply. "You ran away, didn't you, petit?"

 

"Oui," he mouthed between two spoonfuls of soup. Using his newly found knowledge, he added, "He abused me."

 

"Oh, poor petit." Marie placed her hand over his. "I'll contact Child Protection Services, mebbe dey can help you!"

 

He wasn't sure he wanted her to do that, but remained silent, too focussed on eating his soup. Once he had finished, he yawned, trying to keep his eyes open. She didn' say a t'ing 'bout my eyes, wonder why?

 

"Come wit' me, petit. I'll show you your bed." Marie guided him to the sleeping quarters and helped him climb his bed. "Bien?"

 

"Bien." He looked about and recognized the type of men that occupied the other beds. Those were the men that swayed over Bourbon Street, taking girls into the dark alleys and unbuttoning their trousers. Suddenly, he didn't feel safe anymore. I'm gonna sleep and tomorrow mornin' I'm outa here.

 

"Dese shoes should fit you." Marie placed a pair of sneakers beneath his bed. "Lie down, petit."

 

He obeyed and she covered him with the blanket. "Try to get some sleep."

 

"Merci, madame," he whispered and smiled, thankful for her friendliness. Closing his eyes, he realized just how tired he really was and slipped into sleep.

 

"Poor petit," Marie sighed. "I wish I could help you..." But the Child Protection Services were already understaffed and wouldn't be able to do much for the runaway. Noir was destined to become one of the many street kids and hustlers that lived on Bourbon Street.

 

///

 

The next morning, he grabbed his shoes, put them on, stole a coat and fled the shelter. He had overheard Marie talk to a stranger about returning him to his father and he couldn't go back to the Antiquary. Now he was on Bourbon Street again and the cobblestone almost made him trip, running as fast as he did.

 

He was searching for Philippe, maybe the older boy would help him! He felt better today; his clothes were dry and although they weren't a perfect fit, he didn't stand out that much any more. He continued down Bourbon Street, searching for Philippe.

 

It wasn't that crowded yet. A few men were sleeping off their hangovers in the alleys and the girls were standing on the balconies, talking and giggling.

 

"Philippe!" Suddenly, he saw the older boy, emerging from an alley. His clothes were rumpled and his left cheek bruised. Freezing in his tracks, he watched how an older man pushed passed Philippe while swatting the boy on his butt. "Philippe?" Slowly approaching the older boy, he remained alert.

 

"Ah, it's you again. Didn't I tell you to stay at the shelter?" Philippe rubbed his bruised cheek and walked slowly.

 

"Are you hurtin'?" He fell into step beside Philippe.

 

"Why didn't you stay at the shelter?" Philippe clutched his stomach in pain.

 

"Dey were gonna take me back to my père..." Cautiously, he rested his hand on Philippe's and was startled when the older boy jerked back. "Where are we goin'?"

 

Philippe didn't want to be stuck with the kid, but couldn't tell him to go to hell either. "I'm renting a room nearby. You can stay there for now..."

 

In silence they walked to an old building. Philippe climbed the stairs slowly, moaning in pain. After opening the door, he pointed at a chair. "The bed's mine... make yourself useful and tidy up a bit."

 

"Oui, bien!" Glad that he could do something useful he began to clean up while Philippe climbed into bed. "What's dis?" He stared at the strange, white, filthy piece of rubber.

 

"It's a condom, dummy," Philippe said bitterly. "Never let them fuck you without protection."

 

"A condom? Fuck?" His eyes grew big, tasting the words. Seeing Philippe's stunned expression, he threw the thing in the wastebasket.

 

"Sweet Jesus, you have no idea what I'm talking about!" Philippe exclaimed, tired. "Come here, kid."

 

He sat down on the side of the bed, watching Philippe with a concerned expression in his eyes. "Tell me?" He had to know what he was up against if he wanted to survive.

 

"You use a condom when a man wants to have sex with you."

 

"Sex?"

 

"Fuck..." Philippe shook his head. "Where do you come from? Another century? When you pee you touch your penis, okay?"

 

He nodded his head, wondering what Philippe was trying to tell him.

 

"Sometimes, a penis gets hard and that's called an erection. When that happens a man wants to have sex, to put his penis in you and then he starts to thrust until he comes."

 

"Comes?"

 

Philippe's eyes grew big. "He shoots cream from his penis. They will pay you for making them come."

 

He still didn't understand. "Where does he want to put his penis?"

 

Philippe's hand moved between the boy's legs, touching his anus. "Right here."

 

He jumped up from the bed, putting distance between them. "Mais it's much too small!"

 

"It'll fit, don't worry," Philippe said in a bitter tone. "Make sure they never fuck you without a condom." Seeing the boy's puzzled look, he added, "Make sure he puts it around his penis."

 

"Do you let dem do dat to you? Is dat why you're hurtin'?"

 

"Yeah, I earned a hundred dollars last night." He uncovered the money and showed it to the boy. "But there are easier ways to make money."

 

"Like what?" He sat back down on the bed and watched Philippe's eyes. They reminded him of Mauve’s, Rose’s, Rouge's, all the children the Antiquary had used.

 

"You can suck them off," Philippe said tired, figuring he had better educated the boy before a dirty bastard got to him. "Again, make sure they use a condom."

 

"Suck dem off?" Trembling, he stared at Philippe.

 

"Close your lips around his penis and suck. Don't let them pay you less than fifty. They get off on using someone as young as you."

 

"I saw a woman do dat to a man in de alley," he remembered. "She said she didn' wanna swallow, mais he forced her to do it anways."

 

"Stay away from the dirty old bastards, kid. You're quick and agile. Try to find someone who can teach you how to pick their pockets instead." Philippe's eyes closed. "I need to get some sleep, kid. It's show time again in a few hours. Watch some TV, but keep the noise down." Using the remote, he switched on the TV.

 

Dazedly, he walked over to the screen and touched it with his fingertips. Animals were sneaking through the jungle and they were close enough to touch, but his fingertips only encountered glass. "TV," he whispered, stunned and sat down in front of it, watching over Philippe as the older boy slept.

 

///

 

Several hours later Philippe opened his eyes and wondered why the TV was on. Seeing the boy slumped in front of it brought his memories back. He should know better than to pick up runaways; he could barely support himself. If the kid wanted to stay, he would have to start pulling his weight. "Wake up!"

 

The boy jerked awake, panicked briefly and then smiled at Philippe.

 

"What's your name again?" Philippe struggled to his feet, determined to take a shower before heading out onto the streets again.

 

"I found myself a new one. I was watchin' a movie and dere was dis kid, trying' to make it on his own. His name was Remy... I like dat name... I hate Noir!"

 

"Okay, Remy, if that's what you want me to call you. Do you cook?" Philippe stripped and stepped into the bathroom. Still need to clean up in here. It's a mess.

 

"Cook?" Remy followed Philippe, shyly taking in the older boy's body, seeing the bruises on his hips and the tiny amount of blood clinging to his buttocks. "Are you still in pain?"

 

Philippe shook his head. "I'm fine, now try to find something edible in the kitchen?"

 

Remy eagerly nodded his head. After rummaging in the nearly empty fridge, he managed to make some sandwiches.

 

Philippe exited the bathroom again after slipping into some clean clothes. His rent was due tonight and he had better find some johns who were interested in him. Maybe he could take the kid along, use him to bait the johns.

 

Philippe dug into the sandwiches and studied the kid. He didn't make enough money to support both of them. "Do you want to stay?"

 

"Oui, please." Remy waited until Philippe had eaten his share and then devoured the remaining sandwiches.

 

"You'll have to pull your weight, make your own money..." Philippe sighed, hating himself for making his next suggestion. "They'll pay good money if you suck them off."

 

Remy almost choked on his sandwich. "You want me to do... dat?"

 

"We need the money, kid. It's either that, or you've got to leave." He also had to talk to his dealer; he needed more stuff. The crack made his life bearable and his last dose was losing effect. He was coming down hard, but tried to hide that from the kid. Remy probably didn't know about drugs yet and he wanted to keep it that way for now.

 

"I don' know if I can do dat," Remy admitted; a lump was forming in his throat and the image of the man and woman in that alley was glued to his retina.

 

"Here, use these." Philippe handed Remy some sunglasses. "I don't know how the johns will react to your eyes so we'd better play it safe."

 

Remy put on the sunglasses. "Do I really have to?"

 

"I'm not forcing you to go along with this, kid. You're free to leave whenever you want. Go back to your old man or the shelter. It's not like I'm not giving you a choice."

 

"I'm comin' wit' you," Remy decided eventually. He couldn't go back to the shelter where they would take him back to the Antiquary. Somehow, he would survive.

 

///

 

Remy was standing behind Philippe, feeling scared and nervous. A few men had already approached them, asking them about the prices they charged. Much to Philippe's chagrin, the johns were only interested in the boy. Part of him wanted to protect the kid, keep away the ugliness, but another part needed the crack and was considering acting as his pimp.

 

"How much?" A middle aged, bald man, dressed in jeans and a black shirt stared at Remy, devouring the kid with his eyes. "How old is he?"

 

"How old are you?" Philippe nudged Remy in his side.

 

"I'm nine..."

 

"Nine years old? Fuck, I never had one that young! How much?" The man was drooling and already uncovering his wallet.

 

Philippe sat on his heels and locked eyes with Remy. "We need the money. My rent is due tonight and if we can't pay it, we'll be living on the streets."

 

Remy squirmed. "I don' t'ink I can do dis, Philippe..."

 

"Why don't we find out first what he wants and how much he's willing to pay?"

 

"Bien," Remy whispered, reluctantly nodding his head.

 

Philippe faced the man again. "What do you want?"

 

"I want to fuck him," the man said, drooling.

 

"No," Philippe said determinedly. No matter how much he wanted the money he didn't want the boy traumatized. "He'll suck you off for one hundred dollars."

 

Remy's eyes grew big behind the sunglasses. Non...

 

"Remy, we need the money! You won't find another guy who's willing to give you one hundred bucks for a blowjob. You can do it."

 

Remy didn't want to disappoint Philippe and nodded his head. "I'll try." The mere thought of taking the man's penis in his mouth made him gag, but Philippe needed the money and he didn't want to lose his friend.

 

"Good boy." Philippe patted Remy's hair and then faced the man again. "You pay me first."

 

The man eyed them suspiciously, but then handed Philippe the money. "He'd better be good."

 

"Remy, walk into that alley..." Philippe shooed him deeper into the darkness and then turned to their customer. "Here, use a condom. If he tells me you ditched it, the deal's off."

 

Growling, the man grabbed the condom and stalked into the alley. Remy stood motionless and the john signaled him to come closer. He loved it when they kneeled in front of him, but the boy was small and wouldn't be able to suck him off on his knees. "Unzip me."

 

Remy's hands trembled when they unzipped the man's jeans. A vile stench assaulted his nostrils and he swallowed hard, knowing Philippe needed him to do this.

 

"Take it out."

 

While taking deep breaths, Remy obeyed and stared at the throbbing cock in his hands. It was way too big to put in his mouth! He would choke! The man put one hand over his and moved it along his cock.

 

"Yeah, pump it, kid..." His breath was coming in spurts and he bucked hard.

 

Hidden by the sunglasses, tears flowed down Remy's face. While stroking the hard rod of flesh in his hands he started to shiver.

 

"Open those lips, little one..."

 

Without warning, the man grabbed him roughly by his shoulders and pushed his cock past his teeth. Remy nearly choked, shock and stark terror were building in his stomach. It was getting hard to breathe when the man began to thrust and he wanted to beg the man to stop, but the thrusts grew more violent, hitting the back of his throat. The latex condom made him nauseous and he struggled in earnest now, wishing the man would stop.

 

Suddenly, the man thrust deeply and kept him in place, burying himself deep in his throat. Remy tried to call out, to tell Philippe he couldn't take it, but then the man pulled back, patting his head.

 

"You've got sweet lips, little one," the man said, removing the condom, tying it and throwing it onto the ground. "I'll be back and then I'll fuck your little ass..." Walking away, he grinned, leaving Remy alone in the alley.

 

"Remy, are you alright? Remy?" Philippe rushed closer and found Remy kneeled on the cobblestone, arms wrapped around him and rocking hard. "It's gonna be okay, kid. Together with the hundred dollars I made last night and yours we can pay the rent." And I can buy some crack as well...  He wanted to fold one arm around Remy to reassure him, but the boy jerked away from him.

 

"Don' touch me!"

 

The red eyes flared in the darkness. "I'm sorry, kid, but you'd better get used to servicing them. It's the only way to survive out here. When I started out three years ago, I thought I could survive without being a whore, but the truth is, you can't. It's the only way to make money."

 

"You mean I've got to do it 'gain?" He stared at Philippe in disbelief. The other boy nodded his head; Remy's stomach suddenly contracted and he threw up, bile rising from his stomach.

 

"Hey, it's gonna be okay. The first time is always the worst," Philippe said reassuringly. "You'll find a way to deal with it..." He rubbed Remy's back and stopped the long hair from falling into the boy's face. "If you're lucky you only have to do it once, maybe twice a night. Not every john will pay a hundred bucks for a blow job."

 

Shocked and miserable, Remy rode out the dry heaves and stared at the cobblestone. I can' go back to de Antiquary...  But he wasn't sure he could suck someone off again. Mais do I have a choice? Looking up at Philippe, he realized he had made his choice when he had agreed to the blowjob. "Philippe? I'm scared."

 

"I know you are... I was scared too when I started working the streets, but we've got each other. I'll help you through it..." Like the crack helped him through it and he had better score something tonight.

 

Remy used his sleeve to clean his lips and wished he could wash away the vile taste with a drink, maybe even brush his teeth.

 

"Come on, let's get moving. Cardinale's boys will be here soon and we had better be gone by then. This is their spot and I don't want to get into a fight with their pimp." Dragging Remy to his feet, they left the alley.

 

Remy leaned heavily on Philippe, his head reeling and his body trembling. He felt like a stranger had taken over his body and he followed Philippe obediently when the older boy took him to their room.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Chapter three.

Hustling.

 

 

"Here's your money."

 

Remy accepted the seventy dollars and handed them to Philippe. He still hated performing this act, but by sucking them off he made enough money to help pay the rent and buy food. Philippe nodded his head after counting the money and Remy took the man upstairs to their room. It had been raining for days now and he wanted to be someplace dry and warm, not catching pneumonia on Bourbon Street.

 

"Nice crib you got here," the huge, black man said as he sat down on the bed. "Come on, kid, give it to me."

 

Remy took a few breaths to steady himself. He would never get used to sucking them off, but he had learned how to push back his feelings until he felt numb; that made going down on them easier.

 

He kneeled in front of the bed and the man spread his legs. With moves that were now well practiced, Remy unbuttoned the man's jeans and pushed down his underwear. Hiding his disgust, he took the man's cock in his hand and stroked it a few times.

 

"Your mouth, kid, I want your mouth." The man leaned against the wall, stretching his long body.

 

Quickly, he rolled down the condom and then leaned in closer, taking the latex-covered cock into his mouth. Sucking it hard, he tried to get it over with quickly.

 

"Slow down, kid, slow down!" The man bucked hard.

 

Suddenly the john's hands clutched his head and they pushed him deeper onto the cock until he almost gagged. Relaxing his throat, he took in the long rod and deepthroated him, knowing it would earn him an extra ten bucks.

 

"Yeah, hell, you're good, son... that's it, nice and slow... and deep."

 

Remy felt the man tense beneath him and sucked hard; the man came, pushing his cock against the back of his throat. I hate dis! He wanted to scream the words, but his lips were closed around a now sated cock. Finally the man pulled back.

 

"Good boy," he said approvingly. "Why don't you let me fuck you, son? It would earn you another eighty bucks." He was one of Remy's regulars and always asked that same question after the boy had sucked him off.

 

"I don' let anyone fuck me," Remy said stubbornly, disposing of the condom and buttoning the man's jeans again.

 

"I could make it worth your while, little boy."

 

Remy turned away, trying to hide his loathing. "You'd better get outa here now."

 

"I'll be back next week!"

 

The door closed behind him and Remy rushed toward the bathroom, vigorously brushing his teeth to rid himself of the rubber taste in his mouth. Staring at his reflection in the mirror, he took off the sunglasses and cringed. He didn't sleep that well and large circles had formed under his eyes. He had also lost weight these last three months. They didn't always have enough money to buy food and Philippe needed most of their money to buy crack.

 

His world had collapsed when he had found out that Philippe was a crack addict. So far he'd managed to stay away from drugs, but he was crumbling, searching for something to make this miserable life bearable.

 

"Remy?" Philippe slowly entered the bathroom, staring at the boy's reflection. He cringed, recalling how Remy had looked when they had first met. The boy was going downhill, fast, and it was his fault! But I don't have a choice! We need the money!

 

Remy put his sunglasses back on and turned around. "You got anot'er one?"

 

"No, no more johns..." Philippe sat down on the cold bathroom floor and motioned Remy to join him. The boy sat opposite him; the trusting expression gone. They knew they needed each other to survive.

 

"Want some crack?" Philippe uncovered a syringe and showed it to Remy. "It'll make you feel good. I'll even inject it for you."

 

"Non," Remy declined, rising from the floor and moving into the bedroom where he collapsed on the bed. "I wanna sleep."

 

"Sure, Remy, sure." Philippe followed him, sat down on the side of the bed and stroked the long hair. "I'll bring a john home tonight..."

"Why are you tellin' me?"

 

"He offered to pay five hundred dollars if I let him fuck you." Philippe felt the tiny body tense beneath his fingers. "You're a virgin, Remy, you'd better take the money and benefit from it before someone takes it away from you."

 

Remy shook his head. "I don' wanna."

 

"You'd better get it over with, Remy. You know as well as I do that they're paying less for a blowjob these days. You'll have to sell your ass one of these days anyway." Philippe stared at the syringe. He was going to use it to shoot Remy up in a few minutes. The kid might have said no, but surely meant yes. "It doesn't matter where you go, Remy, they'll all want the same thing, your mouth or your ass."

 

Too emotionally drained to argue, Remy remained motionless. In a few hours Philippe would bring the john here and he'd give up his last bit of dignity. I can go back to de Antiquary... Life wasn' dat bad wit' him, was it?

 

His eyes flashed open and the sunglasses fell onto the floor when something sharp slipped beneath his skin. Looking at his right arm, he froze. "Philippe, non!" But the older boy was injecting the dope into his arm and he felt paralyzed, unable to pull away. "Non!"

 

"This way it won't hurt so bad," Philippe said soothingly, while stroking Remy's hair. "It'll take the edge off the pain."

 

Tears flowed down Remy's face as warmth moved through his body. "Non..." he whispered, defeated. "Non..."

 

///

 

Hugo grinned as Philippe led him upstairs to the boys’ room. It had taken him a lot of time and money to convince the young hustler to let him have Remy. Philippe had objected at first, but a thousand dollar was too much money to refuse and Philippe had finally accepted.

 

"Use a condom," Philippe said emotionlessly. "You don't wanna catch any STD's from the kid."

 

Hugo shrugged, but accepted the condom. "Don't disturb me, remember, his ass is mine for the next two hours."

 

"The money," Philippe said in an icy tone. Hugo handed him an envelope and Philippe counted it. "It's all there," he said, pleased. Glancing at the door, he knew he was selling Remy behind his back, but he couldn't turn down the money. "Have a great time and remember, he's a virgin."

 

"That's why I'm paying extra!" Hugo opened the door and stepped inside.

 

///

 

Remy felt a little nauseous and his head was pounding, but the crack was losing its effect. Maybe it had something to do with being a mutant, but he was grateful that he wasn't turning into a zombie like the druggies on the street.

 

Suddenly, the door opened and a man stepped inside. "Who are you?" Then Philippe's words returned to him; his friend had sold his ass for five hundred bucks. Staring at the bulky man, he realized there was no way out. He couldn't outsmart the john.

 

Hugo licked his lips. "You shouldn't trust your friends, kid." He walked towards the bed. With one fluid movement he pulled back the blanket.

 

Remy shivered, realizing he was naked. Philippe must have undressed him while the drugs were working their way through his body.

 

"I already paid your pimp..."

 

My pimp... Remy sighed; the man was right. Philippe was now his pimp.

 

"My name's Hugo," he continued. "I know it's your first time... it will hurt like hell."

 

The vile grin on Hugo's face made Remy freeze. "Don' hurt me, m'sieur. I can make it bon for you..." Resigned to his fate and weakened by the drugs, he laid on his back and spread his legs. He might not have done this before, but he had watched Philippe getting fucked by their johns.

 

Hugo's hands moved over Remy's body, rolling a nipple that refused to grow hard between his fingertips. "Oh, yeah, I'm gonna be the first to fuck that little hole."

 

Remy shivered and bit his bottom lip until it bled. Please, let him finish quickly!  Suddenly, Hugo rolled him onto his stomach and pulled him up onto all fours. Remy bowed his head and tried to mentally prepare himself for the act that would follow. Hugo pushed his face into the pillows and they muffled his sobs as the man positioned himself against his entrance, ramming inside and tearing him up. I can' do dis... After the first thrust, Remy lost consciousness.

 

///

 

"I want my money back!" Hugo slammed his fist into the wall. "He passed out while I was fucking him!"

 

"You fucked him! I lived up to my part of the deal!" Philippe flinched, disgusted by what he had done. "Leave him the hell alone, he's just a little kid!" He should have known better, should have protected Remy, but the thousand dollars had been too tempting.

 

"Give me my money back!" Hugo punched Philippe in the face and the boy went down. More punches and kicks followed and Philippe brought up his arms, trying to shield his face. The beating continued for several minutes, then Hugo reached inside Philippe's coat and retrieved the thousand dollars. "Crack addicts..." he spat and left the building, whistling a merry tune.

 

Philippe listened to the footfalls and then opened his eyes. His side was throbbing and blood dripped down his bottom lip. When he tried to move, an indescribable pain seared through his side, settling in his abdomen. Remy, I have to check on Remy!

 

Gathering his strength, he struggled to his feet and used the wall to support himself as he shuffled toward their room. The door was still ajar and he made out a tiny form on the bed, curled up and shivering. Oh, Remy, I'm so sorry.

 

Collapsing to his knees, he crawled the last few feet and laid his head on the side of the bed, studying Remy. "Remy, wake up, Remy!" The boy stirred, but his eyes remained closed.

 

"Remy, I'm so sorry... Remy, I need a doctor..." Remy moved slightly and Philippe saw the blood, clinging to his thighs. "So sorry, Remy... so sorry."

 

Resting his head on the bed, he closed his eyes. His hands, which had been clawing at his stomach, relaxed and dropped onto the floor. Releasing his last breath, he wished he had made fewer mistakes in his miserable life.

 

///

 

Remy woke up because he was cold. Someone forgot to close de door... It took a lot of effort to open his eyes, but when he did, he stared into Philippe's dead eyes. "Mon Dieu, non!" Frozen, he continued to stare into the vacant eyes. He can' be dead, Philippe can' be dead, dis ain' happenin', dis ain' happenin'!

 

Finally, he managed to gather his courage and lifted his right hand, poking Philippe's shoulder. "Philippe? Wake up, it's cold in here, close de door, mon ami."

 

But Philippe remained motionless and Remy finally realized that his friend was dead. Was it an overdose? I 'ways told him de dope would kill him. His arm itched and suddenly he remembered... Non, he shot me up as well!

 

Panting hard, the rest of the memories washed over him; Philippe had sold his ass to Hugo, who had grinned at the prospect of inflicting pain on him. Fortunately, he had passed out during the act.

 

Elbowing himself into a sitting position, he stared at the corpse; Philippe's face was relaxed in death and he envied the peace his friend had found.

 

Shivering from the cold, he pulled up the blanket and started to sob softly. What do I do now? Philippe's dead, I don' have any money and I can' do dis any more.  His stomach contracted, remembering Hugo's hands traveling all over his body and then... it had hurt. Sobbing, he struggled to get to his feet, but collapsed next to the bed, beside Philippe's cooling body.

 

Jerking away from the corps, he crawled to the bathroom on all fours, turning on the shower and climbed into it. Curled up, he remained there until the water turned cold, jolting him back to reality. Need to find some clot'es... need to put on some clot'es...

 

Feeling numb inside, he moved instinctively and slipped into some jeans and the brown sweater Marie had given him months ago. Standing in the center of the room, he stared at the debris of his life; Philippe, a few dollar bills, a syringe and a sandwich.

 

I can' live like dis any more... it's over. Shuffling his feet, he managed to get to the doorway where he dropped to his knees. He crawled downstairs and pulled himself back on to his feet. It was still raining outside, but that didn't faze him and he started for the street.

 

Bourbon Street... I should never have come here... should have stayed wit' de Antiquary instead. Should have let him drain me. At least I was warm dere and I didn' have to get everyone off to stay 'live. Should I go back and beg him to take me in 'gain? I have rien left to lose...

 

Walking down the street, he began to feel more alert, the rain wiping the numbness from his mind. The sun was setting and the hustlers and pickpockets were trying to make some money. And I need money... mais I'm no longer sellin' myself.

 

The loneliness, the emptiness in his soul remained, gaining a place of its own and mechanically he started for a man in a long black coat. The man was a fool; his wallet was showing and it would be easy to pick his pocket. Then he would have some money and he could buy food, maybe even some drugs to alleviate the pain in his lower body.

 

Moving soundlessly, he approached his target and reached for the wallet, but then the man's hand grabbed his wrist, pulling him around. "Non, lemme go!" he yelled, kicking and screaming, but the man's hold remained firm.

 

"Tryin' to pick my pocket, petit?" The man turned around, a grin already visible on his face, but it froze when their eyes met. "You?"

 

Remy's eyes narrowed; he had seen that face before, the dark eyes, the fierce moustache and he knew that voice... "De Antiquary..." The memories flashed in his mind. This man was a friend of the Antiquary's! Struggling even harder, he gasped in pain when his stomach objected and his wrist snapped.

 

"Noir," Jean-Luc LeBeau whispered, shocked, recognizing the baby he had stolen almost ten years ago. The boy suddenly stopped fighting him and went limp, collapsing in his arms. "I finally found you, petit."

 

Cringing, Jean-Luc took in the boy's haggard expression and realized he couldn't waste any time. The boy needed a doctor! "I'll take care of you, petit... I promise." He hurried toward his car and placed the boy on the back seat, holding him close. After telling the driver to head home and alert Mattie and their family doctor, he cradled the boy against his chest, rocking him softly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Four

Jean-Luc LeBeau

 

"Jean?" Mattie stared at the small boy in disbelief. "What did you bring home dis time?"

 

"A very special chile, Mattie." He'd never told anyone about the baby he'd stolen and he had to come up with a believable story where Mattie was concerned. She wouldn't rest until she knew the truth, or what was acceptable as the truth. "Prepare de guest room on de ground floor. I don' want him climbin' any stairs for now."

 

Mattie nodded her head. "Does de boy have a name?"

 

"Noir will have to do for now."

 

"Noir?" Mattie raised an eyebrow. "Does he belon' to the Antiquary's Velvet Ministry?"

 

"He did, until some time ago."

 

Mattie suddenly realized what was going on. "Dis is de boy you wanted to help escape?"

 

"Oui and I lost track of him." Jean-Luc carried the boy into the guestroom and placed him on the bed. "Check on him, Mattie. Olivier will arrive shortly and I want him to examine de boy as well." Olivier was their family doctor and the only physician Jean-Luc trusted. "Where's Henri?"

 

"He left town on Guild matters and will be back in a few days." Mattie sighed. "We should undress him first. Dose dirty and wet clothes will do him no good."

 

Jean-Luc pulled the boy into a sitting position and helped Mattie to take off his sweater. "Mon Dieu..." The boy's ribs showed and Jean-Luc also noticed the needle mark that was showing signs of infection. "He's on drugs."

 

Mattie worked methodically and unzipped the boy's jeans, removing the underwear as well. Seeing the blood and bruising on his buttocks and thighs, she frowned. "Jean? Dis boy was raped."

 

Jean-Luc's eyes grew big. I should never have stolen you from de hospital.

 

"We're gonna give him a bath, deal wit' de infection and see if we can find some soothin' ointment." Mattie grabbed a few towels and headed for the bath tub. After turning on the water, she waited until the tub was full of steamy, warm water. "Jean, put him in de bat' tub."

 

Jean-Luc lifted the boy carefully and carried him into the bathroom where he lowered his charge into the bath tub. Shocked, he stared at the droplets of blood that now clung to his vest. "He's bleedin'... down dere." He didn't know how else to say it. This was a child! No child should have to endure rape!

 

"De petit is badly hurt," Mattie whispered, while washing the boy's bruised body. "Tell Olivier to hurry."

 

Jean-Luc left the room, told his trusted second in command Marcus to contact Olivier and to tell the doctor to hurry up. "Mattie, is dere anythin' I can do?"

 

Mattie was softly humming a tune, stroking the boy's hair. She tried to radiate as much calm and reassurance as she could. "He's special, Jean, you're right 'bout dat."

 

"What are you sensin', Mattie?" He had chosen Mattie as his confidant for many reasons. One of them being that she had telepathic abilities. She could tell his friends from his enemies.

 

"His mind... he's... sensitive, mais he's too young..." Mattie smiled as the boy stirred in the water. "Hand me dose towels, Jean and push back de covers of de bed."

 

Jean-Luc obeyed and helped Mattie dry the boy's skin. After wrapping a towel around his wet hair, he carried the boy back to the bed and laid him down, covering him with soft blankets. "At least he's safe now."

 

"How did you find him?" Mattie nodded gratefully as Marcus handed her a first aid kit. She cleaned the wound the needle had left behind and put a bandage over it. Then she turned her attention to his right wrist. "It's broken," she whispered and bandaged it firmly; it would need a cast later.

 

Suddenly the door opened and a young man marched inside. He was dressed in a gray suit and wore a pair of glasses in a dark frame. "What's going on?"

 

"Olivier, I need you to examine him." Jean-Luc watched as Olivier and Mattie worked on the boy.

 

"He was raped, Jean, and he's using drugs," Olivier muttered beneath his breath after examining his new patient. "Are you sure you want to take a street rat in to your home?"

 

"Oui, I'm sure." Jean-Luc cringed as Olivier gently moved the boy onto his side to examine his lower body.

 

Olivier put on a rubber glove and carefully eased inside the torn rectum. The boy moaned and twitched, trying to get away from the invasive fingertip. "Someone tore him up, Jean." Olivier stared his friend. "Don't tell me you did this."

 

"Non, I didn'," Jean-Luc said quickly. "I found him on de streets." Dazedly, he stared as Mattie held the boy in place while Olivier pushed some antibiotic cream into the boy's abused passage. "He will heal, won' he?"

 

"It's a bit early to tell, Jean." Olivier disposed of the glove. "I'm going to check on him again in twenty-four hours and hopefully the bleeding will have stopped by then, otherwise I have to put in stitches."

 

"His wrist is broken as well," Mattie pointed out to Olivier.

 

"Anything else?" Olivier couldn't believe the amount of damage done to this boy.

 

"What 'bout de drugs? Will he be going through withdrawal?" Jean-Luc already feared the answer.

 

Olivier took some blood samples and studied the boy. "We'll have to wait and see, Jean. I have to get the lab results back from his blood and then... we'll have to see what happens when he wakes up."

 

Jean-Luc nodded his head. "What do we do while we're waitin'?"

 

"Keep him warm," Olivier instructed. "Try to get some fluids into him, water, orange juice, herbal tea, whatever works is fine."

 

"I'll take good care of him," Mattie promised. Tucking the blankets around the boy she began humming again, stroking his hair in a soothing manner.

 

Jean-Luc barely managed to fight back his tears. My fault... It's my fault dat he's dis way... I can never make things up to him...

 

///

 

He was floating on a warm, soft cloud, which cradled his body perfectly. Although the pain was still there, it was bearable and Remy was even tempted to open his eyes while trying to remember what had happened last.

 

Hugo tried to rape me and succeeded, jugin' by de pain... den I found Philippe, dead, and ran onto de streets... tried to pick dis man's pocket, mais he's a friend of de Antiquary. I'm back wi' de old man?

 

The only way to get an answer was to open his eyes. Well, his right eye opened, his left refused to obey. He stared at soft curtains, beige wallpaper and he was lying in a big four poster bed. Non, this wasn't his room at the Antiquary's.

 

He quickly closed his eye again, hearing voices in the distance. Male voices, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. What's de matter wit' you? Get up and run 'fore dey can catch up wit' you! But his body refused to co-operate and something heavy pulled down his right wrist and he lacked the strength to try again.

 

Feeling scared and lost, he panicked. His body tensed, then relaxed again when one voice seemed to grow more distant, then tensed again, hearing footfalls approach. He was on the verge of hyperventilating as the door opened and a stranger stepped inside. "Non..." he whimpered scared and... 

 

He was peeing in the bed! Non, he hadn't wet himself since he was a little kid and the Antiquary had rubbed his nose in his urine to make sure he'd never do it again! "Non..."

 

Jean-Luc hurried to the boy's side, smelling a pungent odor. "C'est bien, petit, happens to all of us, oui?" The boy was curled up on his left side and a damp spot was spreading on the blanket. Merde, now he had to clean up the child! Not that he minded doing the dirty work, but he worried how the boy would react to his touch. "Lemme help, Noir?"

 

"Non, not Noir! Name's Remy, not Noir, never Noir!" Remy hid deeper beneath the blanket, blocking out the stench. "Not Noir, not Noir, Remy..." His voice shook and he tried to regulate his too fast breathing. Was he in trouble now?

 

Jean-Luc recovered quickly. "Mais, oui, Remy it is. Remy? We need to clean you up. You had a petit accident." Uncertain how to proceed, he kneeled beside the bed and slowly peeled off the layers of blankets that hid Remy from view. Remy was pinching his eyes tightly shut. "It's bien, petit. I know 'bout your eyes. Dey don' frighten me. Look at me?"

 

Remy hesitantly opened his eyes, but remained silent. Oui, this was the same man he had seen at the Antiquary's home a few months ago. Can' trust him; he'll take me back... Please don' call me Noir, m'sieur, but he didn't dare speak the words aloud. Feeling ashamed and stupid for wetting himself, he averted his eyes and waited for the man to take the initiative.   

 

"Remy?" Jean-Luc smiled approvingly at the name; he really liked it a lot better than Noir. "I need to clean you up, remember? Why don' we do dat in de bat'room?" Not getting an answer, Jean-Luc eventually pushed back the damp blankets and found that Remy had not only peed, but had had a bowel movement as well. The bloody diarrhea told him that the boy hadn't healed up inside yet and that probably meant that Olivier needed to put in stitches after all. Olivier and Mattie were downstairs in his private medical facility, working on the blood samples and setting up a treatment plan.

 

When the man reached for him, Remy flinched back, trying to avoid the touch. He knew his panic showed on his face, but he couldn't repress the pain and fear that knotted his stomach. I'm a stupid bébé, can' even hold until I can go to de bat'room...

 

Jean-Luc stared at the abused body and drew in a deep steadying breath. Mattie and Olivier had decided against putting Remy in warm clothes because they wanted quick access and now he understood why. Remy was shrinking away from him and Jean-Luc tried to reassure the child, while wrapping his arms around him.

 

"Remy? It was a petit accident. You're not feelin' well, so it's okay when you have accidents. I will just clean you up, put clean sheets and blankets on de bed and den you can go back to sleep, oui?"

 

Frustrated that Remy still wasn't responding, Jean-Luc lifted him in his arms and carried him into the bathroom, where he sat him down on the toilet. Remy swayed briefly, but then seemed to steady himself.

 

Remy closely followed every move the man made and cringed, feeling the urge to pee again. Unable to hold it, he peed and tears flowed down his face. What was happening to him?

 

Jean-Luc had wet a washcloth and wiped the cold sweat from Remy's brow. "You're un peu ill, Remy, mais it will get betta, trust me, petit." Jean-Luc held Remy's eyes when his hand moved lower to clean the boy's groin area.

 

Remy bit his bottom lip until it bled and closed his eyes. Now that the man was touching him, ugly memories returned and he almost bolted from the bathroom, but he was too exhausted to move.

 

"Remy, I've got to do your backside as well," Jean-Luc said softly and turned the boy around. "It still hurts, non, petit?"

 

But Remy didn't react. He wasn't going to give away his weaknesses. Although he had completely tensed up due to his fear, he had to admit it felt good to have his butt cleaned. Peeking at the man kneeling in front of him, he realized the stranger was using baby wipes to clean his butt! It almost made him laugh, almost.

 

Jean-Luc closely monitored Remy's reaction and was relieved when the boy didn't try to get away from him. He collected clean underwear from the pile of clothes Mattie had assembled before leaving with Olivier, claiming that the boy would need clean clothes at least once a day and she had been right. Bless Mattie for knowing what to do!

 

Remy was surprised when the man helped him to step into some briefs and finally he dared to meet he stranger's eyes. Their eyes met, and he quickly looked away again, scared of what he would find in those dark orbs.

 

Jean-Luc considered letting Remy walk back instead of carrying him, but wasn't sure the boy could stay on his feet, so he swept him up into his arms anyway. Remy released a surprised yelp. "I'm gonna put you in de chair while I put some clean sheets on de bed," Jean-Luc told Remy, wanting the boy to know his intentions.

 

Remy flushed when Jean-Luc placed him in the armchair. Sitting upright was putting pressure on his bottom and he moaned in pain, but remained sitting straight nonetheless. He didn't want to anger the man, unsure how the stranger would react.

 

Jean-Luc wasn't good at making small talk, but he tried anyway. "My name's Jean-Luc LeBeau and I brought you home after you tried to pick my pocket."

 

Remy tried to make himself as small as possible, but his bottom hurt and he slumped to the right until he was laying down. Why hadn't the man, Jean-Luc, called the police or alerted the Antiquary? Why was he at the man's home?

 

Jean-Luc removed the damp sheet and blanket, put on clean ones and returned to Remy, who was clutching his stomach with his left hand. "You're probably wonderin' what happened after we met." Jean-Luc lifted Remy in his arms and tucked him back into bed. "We put your right wrist in a cast 'cause it was broken and... Are you doin' drugs, petit?"

 

Drugs? Flashes of Philippe injected the dope washed over him and he shook his head. With tremendous effort he managed an answer. "He made me... only once..." For some reason it was important to him that Jean-Luc knew the truth; that he wasn't a drug addict.

 

"I'm glad to hear dat," Jean Luc whispered, and smiled. "Remy, we need to talk, oui?"

 

But Remy's eyes were slipping shut again. The bed was too warm and too comfortable to not fall asleep. He did manage a nod, however.

 

"Remy, you were raped, oui?" Jean-Luc's heart sped up, seeing the alien eyes flash open in fear and remembered pain. "Oui, I know you were raped, mais... you're still bleedin'... you might need stitches."

 

Inaudible words stumbled from Remy's lips while staring at Jean-Luc. Were they going to hurt him all over again? Did the nightmare never end?

 

"I asked my personal doctor to take care of you, Remy. Olivier will look after you, don' be scared." Suddenly, he remembered the doctor's advice. "Wanna drink somethin'? I got some freshly pressed orange juice." He sat down on the side of the bed and picked up the glass, noticing Remy's hungry stare. He was stunned when the boy shook his head, indicating he didn't want to drink. "Mais petit, you're dehydrated!"

 

But no, he couldn't drink anything! What if he wet himself again? For some reason he didn't have any control over his lower body and he wanted to avoid creating another mess Jean-Luc would have to clean up. Although he craved the orange juice, he had to decline.

 

But Jean-Luc realized the truth. "Don' worry 'bout peein' in bed 'gain, petit. We'll clean you up, dat's no big deal. Jus' drink... please?" Jean-Luc placed the glass at Remy's lips and the boy sipped slowly.

 

"Finish it, petit, you need de fluids." Jean-Luc held the boy tight, feeling shivers rack Remy's body. "Now dat's a good boy," he said, while helping Remy lie down again. "Go back to sleep, petit." If everything went to plan, Olivier would return in a few minutes, give the boy a sedative so Remy slept through the surgery. He was sure Remy wouldn't want to be awake when Olivier examined his abused rectum and put in the stitches.

 

Remy's eyes remained locked on Jean-Luc. Why was the man helping him? Or did he have ulterior motives like nursing him back to health and then hand him over to the Antiquary? Or did the man want his ass for himself?

 

"Sleep, petit, I promise everythin' will be bon in de end." Jean-Luc absentmindedly stroked Remy's auburn hair and listened as the boy's breathing evened out, indicating he had fallen asleep. Burying his head in his hands, Jean-Luc stared at the bundle of misery in front of him. He was to blame for the boy's misery. This was all his fault!

 

"Jean? We're ready to work on him." Olivier entered the room and rested a hand on his friend's shoulder. "What aren't you telling me? Who raped him?"

 

"I don' know, I don' t'ink even Remy does. Olivier, dis chile is very precious to me... I want him whole and healed."

 

"I can't make that promise," Olivier said thoughtfully. "The boy has been traumatized and has a long road of recovery ahead of him. He'll need a friend though." Olivier pushed back the blankets and removed the briefs Jean-Luc had just put on the boy. "I need to stop the bleeding and repair the tears."

 

Jean-Luc nodded his head. "Mais I will carry him."

 

Olivier didn't object, noticing that Jean-Luc's vest already sported stains of blood. "Then let's do this. Mattie will assist me."

 

They headed downstairs where Mattie was already waiting for them. Jean-Luc placed Remy on the exam table and caressed the auburn hair one more time. "Be careful, be gentle."

 

Mattie smiled reassuringly. "You know we will, Jean."

 

Jean nodded his head, realized he was keeping them from their job and left to pace the corridor, waiting for the word that everything had gone well and that he could take Remy back to his room. I'll try to make things up to you, I promise, petit.

 

///

 

"Everything went well," Olivier informed Jean-Luc as he placed his patient back in the big four poster bed. "I hooked him up to an IV because he needs fluids."

 

"When will he wake up 'gain?" Jean-Luc asked, as Mattie covered the boy with warm blankets.

 

"In a few hours' time, Jean. He's exhausted and I want him to catch up on his sleep. There might be some nightmares," Olivier warned Jean-Luc.

 

"What do I do?" Jean-Luc pulled the armchair closer to the bed and sat down, studying Remy's face.

 

Olivier licked his lips. "I don't know if he'll allow you to touch him. He might suffer flashbacks from the rape and who knows what other things he was subjected to in his young life. You need to be patient."

 

"Jean and I will take turns sittin' wit' de chile," Mattie said, smiling at Jean-Luc. "He'll heal."

 

"I hope so." Jean-Luc took Remy's left hand in his, stroking the cold skin, but stayed clear of the IV needle.

 

"I suggest you ask your cook to prepare some soup. Chicken noodle soup is usually the patient's favorite." Olivier checked Remy's vital signs again. "And he'll probably have trouble going to the bathroom for a time. His organs are a bit bruised and he doesn't have any bowel control."

 

"We'll clean him up when he has an accident," Jean-Luc assured Olivier.

 

"I'll stay in close contact," Olivier said, while slipping back into his coat. "Make sure he rests, eats and drinks. He's young and should make a full recovery. Also try to find him a good councilor, Jean, he'll need help to deal with the rape."

 

Jean-Luc nodded his head. "I'll look into it."

 

Mattie walked Olivier to the front door, but Jean-Luc remained at Remy's side. The boy moved slightly, searching for a more comfortable position and moaned softly. Jean-Luc stroked the soft skin of Remy's face, staying clear of any bruises and sighed deeply. "Remy, I know you can' hear me, mais I wanna promise you somethin'. From dis day on you're my chile, mon fils..."

 

///

 

He was hurting, but the pain wasn't as bad as it used to be. Remy even tried to stretch, but froze as pain rose from his lower body, climbing to his stomach.

 

"Don' move, petit. You jus' had surgery."

 

The woman's voice surprised him and he opened his eyes to find out who was talking to him. "Oh..." fled his lips, seeing the shiny beads in the woman's dark hair. The beads reflected the sunlight and sent sparkles through the room.

 

"Bonjour, petit, I'm tante..." She smiled and brushed a few stray locks of hair from his face. "You're Remy, oui?"

 

He nodded his head; unable to speak. Her dark eyes laughed at him and she radiated peace and warmth, two things which he had never experienced before. I like her... Mon Dieu, I like her.

 

"I made you some chicken noodle soup," Mattie announced. "De doctor recommended it."

 

Remy's nose twitched, smelling the delicious fragrance. His stomach growled and he averted his eyes.

 

"You need to sit up first..." Mattie collected two pillows from the small couch in the corner of the room and helped Remy lean forward while pushing the pillows behind his back. "Bien?" She helped him lie back and studied his eyes. The boy seemed content.

 

Remy nodded his head once and watched as the bowl, filled with hot soup, came into view. He tried to reach out and grab it, but stared at the heavy cast around his right wrist. When had that happened?

 

Mattie smiled, took hold of the spoon and leaned in closer. "Open up, petit. I made dis soup myself so you'd betta like it!" she teased.

 

Remy swallowed the first spoonful eagerly, but then froze. What if he peed in his bed again?

 

"Eat, chile. I'll help you visit de bathroom after you emptied de soup. Don' worry 'bout a thing, bien?"

 

Remy blushed, ashamed that she had guessed his thoughts. He swallowed the rest of the soup obediently, watching her closely.

 

"You like ol' Mattie Baptiste, non?" She laughed warmly and put the empty bowl onto the nightstand. "Wanna visit de bat'room now?"

 

He didn't want to leave the warm bed, but nodded his head nonetheless. He would die of embarrassment if he peed in bed again! Mattie pushed down the blankets and he tried to rise from the bed, but his eyes grew big, and he clutched his stomach in pain.

 

"I know it hurts, petit, mais it'll get betta," she promised and helped him to his feet. Slowly, she guided him into the bathroom. "Want tante to help you pee?"

 

Remy shook his head. He could manage himself! Thankfully, tante stepped outside and after struggling to push down his briefs, he sat down on the toilet, relieving himself.

 

"Petit? Are you done? I'm comin' back inside."

 

Remy quickly pulled his briefs back in place and tried to rise to his feet, but vertigo made him sway.

 

"Don' worry, tante's got you." Mattie smiled. "You done here?"

 

Remy nodded his head and allowed her to support him back to the bed where he collapsed amidst the pillows and hiding beneath the blankets. Closing his eyes, he wondered why he felt this tired, but as he dozed off, he only felt pleasantly warm.

 

///

 

"How's de petit doin'?" Jean-Luc had slept several hours and was now ready to relieve Mattie. It was his time to sit with Remy.

 

"He's eaten some soup," Mattie informed him as she got to her feet. "He's been sleepin' for de last few hours, mais I can feel him wakin' up 'ready." At times like these, her telepathy came in handy. "Try to win his trust, Jean. He needs a père more dan anythin'."

 

"I'll try," Jean-Luc vowed. "What 'bout..."

 

"His stitches? Olivier checked on him one hour ago and Remy's doin' bien. He needs rest and food."

 

"Olivier was here and I didn' notice?"

 

"We let you sleep, figurin' you needed it," Mattie teased, knowing darn well that Jean-Luc would sit with the boy for the next twelve hours. "I'm gonna catch up on my beauty sleep."

 

Mattie left the room and Jean-Luc took his place at the boy's side.

 

///

 

Hugo was back in his room, chasing him, throwing him down on the bed and... "Arrgghh," Remy screamed, tried to sit upright, but cringed as a now familiar pain assaulted him. His eyes searched the dimly lit room, and he felt thankful for his unholy eyes, enabling him to see in the dark. A man... a man rose from a chair and approached him. I've got to get 'way from him!

 

He crawled on all fours, fell off of the bed and landed hard on the floor. The man hovered above him, was talking to him, but the words made no sense and he tried to put more distance between them. "Don' touch! Don' touch!"

 

Shocked, Jean-Luc stared at Remy, who was huddled in the corner, motionless and eyeing him with big, burning orbs. "Petit, Remy, you're safe. You're at my home... Petit, do you hear me?" He sat on his heels in front of the boy, following Olivier's advice to not touch Remy. "Why don' you lie back down in your bed? You must be cold here on de floor." Mon Dieu, what if Remy had pulled his stitches and was bleeding again? Why wasn't Mattie here to soothe the boy?

 

Jean-Luc's words chased away the memories and Remy suddenly recognized the man who was taking care of him. Eyeing Jean-Luc, he tried to form a sentence, a plea to leave him alone, but his lips were frozen. He raised his left hand instead, trying to place it against Jean-Luc's chest, but misjudged the distance and it dropped to the floor. "M'sieur, are you real?"

 

Jean-Luc smiled. Remy was finally talking; the boy's silence had worried him. "Oui, I'm real. I'm Jean-Luc LeBeau," he repeated. "And you're my guest."

 

Remy looked about, remembering the room from the last few times he had woken up. "Dis your bedroom?"

 

"Non, it's one of de guest rooms." Jean-Luc carefully planned his next move. "Are you cold, petit?"

 

"Oui." Dazedly, Remy tried to recall why he was sitting on the floor.

 

"You had a nightmare..." Jean-Luc reminded him. He was tempted to put his arms around Remy, but knew it would only terrify the boy so he kept his distance instead.

 

"Oui, Hugo was chasin' me..." Remy licked his lips. The cold was penetrating his bones and he managed to push himself to his feet by using the wall to support himself.

 

"Who's Hugo?" Jean-Luc moved as well, ready to catch Remy in case the boy fainted.

 

"He paid five-hundred dollars for my ass." Remy collapsed on the bed, hoping Jean-Luc would stay at a distance; he couldn't stand anyone's touch right now. Squirming, he managed to pull the blankets up to his shoulders.

 

"Hugo..." Jean-Luc filed the name away for later when he would try to hunt the bastard down. "Remy?" He sat down again and found that the boy was still staring at him. "What do you remember?"

 

"Everyt'in'," Remy whispered. "You gonna hand me over to de Antiquary?"

 

"Non," Jean-Luc quickly assured him. "I want you to stay here wit' Mattie and me."

 

"I like Mattie," Remy admitted, shyly. His mouth was growing dry and there was some orange juice in the glass sitting on the nightstand.

 

Jean-Luc followed Remy's glance and picked up the glass, encouraging Remy to drink. The boy emptied the glass and Jean-Luc wondered what to say next now that Remy was talking to him. "You're welcome here, petit."

 

"Merci..." Remy privately wondered about Jean-Luc's price. Well, he would find out in time. Maybe he had only escaped Hugo to fall prey to this man.

 

"Remy..." Jean-Luc suddenly grew speechless. Now that the boy was awake, he didn't know what to say. "Is dere anythin' I can do?"

 

Remy nodded his head; he could worry about the price later. "Bury Philippe."

 

Jean-Luc frowned. "Who's Philippe?"

 

"We were livin' together." Remy briefly closed his eyes. "When I woke up Philippe was dead. Would you pay for a decent funeral? I don' have de money to pay for it, mais I can work it off."

 

You're offerin' yourself to me so I'll pay for your friend's funeral? Mon Dieu!  "Do you have an address?"

 

"We lived at 14 Canal Street, m'sieur. Top floor. De cops probably found him 'ready, mais... he helped me... please, m'sieur?" He couldn't bear the thought of Philippe not getting a final resting place, being cremated instead and his ashes scattered; but what if they had already cremated the body?

 

Jean-Luc watched Remy sob softly and briefly stepped outside to talk to one of his men, who promised to take care of the matter. When Jean-Luc returned to Remy's side, the boy was silent again and had wiped the tears from his eyes. "Philippe will get a decent funeral," he promised.

 

"Merci, m'sieur. I'll pay you back somehow..." Exhausted, Remy's eyes met Jean-Luc's. "I'll pay your price, m'sieur."

 

"Dere's no price," Jean-Luc assured him, but caught the shivers that washed over the boy's body. "Why don' you go back to sleep, petit?"

 

"Don' wanna face de nightmares 'gain, m'sieur..." Remy shifted in the bed. "Why am I still hurtin'... down dere?"

 

"We had to put in stitches," Jean-Luc reminded him. "You'll feel sore for a few days, Remy."

 

Remy stared at the ceiling. "Dere are angels on de ceilin'," he whispered, surprised.

 

Jean-Luc smiled. "Oui. Do you like lookin' at dem?"

 

"Dey seem so happy," Remy mumbled, cocking his head. "Dey are laughin' ...and dey're fat."

 

Jean-Luc laughed warmly. "Oui, dey're fat... and you're too skinny, petit. You need to put on some weight... wanna eat somethin'?"

 

Remy wondered if he had misunderstood. "Jus' had some chicken noodle soup." He had never eaten this much before.

 

"Do you like croissants, Remy?"

 

"Oui, mais..." He had never had the money to buy them.

 

"I'll back in a few seconds," Jean-Luc announced and headed for the kitchen. When he returned to Remy's room, he proudly presented the full tray to his guest. "Remy?" he whispered the name, then realized the boy was asleep. He put the tray down next to the bed and sat down, determined Remy would eat something when he woke next.

 

///

 

Three days later

 

"Olivier?" Jean-Luc held his breath as his friend examined Remy. Remy was still blissfully asleep and didn't even notice the doctor checking on him.

 

"He's doing as well as can be expected. Keep feeding him. The boy's too small for his age." Olivier smiled and stepped outside with Jean-Luc. "What about the nightmares?"

 

"He's had dem frequently dese last three days. He won' let me touch him, mais once he realizes it's me or Mattie he calms down." Three days had passed by since he had found Remy and the boy had slept most of the time.

 

"He'll want to get up soon and walk around a bit."

 

"Can he?" Jean-Luc made sure the door was ajar and kept a close eye on Remy.

 

"Short trips, yes. Does he still complain of a stomach ache?"

 

"Non, and he's gettin' betta at holdin' it until he reached de bathroom. He's healin'."

 

Olivier nodded his head, pleased. "I've seldom seen someone recover this quickly. Maybe it's something in his genes, being a mutant?"

 

"Mebbe," Jean-Luc agreed. "I'm relieved he didn' have to go through withdrawal."

 

"If he only used Crack once..." Olivier's brow grew knitted. "I still can't believe his friend injected him against his will!"

 

"And yet he asked me to give Philippe a decent burial."

 

"Did you do it?"

 

"Oui." Jean-Luc noticed that Remy was stirring and wanted to return to the boy's side. "When will you check on him 'gain?"

 

"Tomorrow. I can let myself out. Go, sit with the boy."

 

Jean-Luc smiled, grateful that his friend understood his need to look after the boy and he returned to Remy's room.

 

///

 

Remy opened his eyes and found the chair empty for the first time. Either Mattie or Jean-Luc had been sitting there these last few days. Guess it's over now... dey grew tired lookin' after me...

 

"Ah, petit, awake again?"

 

Remy's eyes brightened, seeing Jean-Luc hurry to his bedside. "Oui, m'sieur and I need to use de bat'room." With Jean-Luc's help he walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He was getting better and could walk short distances... mais I still need help.

 

He quickly relieved himself, tried to wash his hand, cursed the caste and returned to his room. After settling back down in bed, something hard poked him in his ribs. "A book, m'sieur?" Merde, he couldn't read, but couldn't admit that to Jean-Luc.

 

"It's 'Sans Famille' by Hector Malot. I thought you might wanna read it as de main character's name is Rémi and de two of you got some things in common." Why wasn't the boy showing more interest in the book? He had thought Remy would welcome the distraction now that he was feeling better but still confined to bed.

 

Remy cautiously opened the book and stared helplessly at the millions of letters that danced in front of his eyes. He couldn't admit to Jean-Luc that he couldn't read; it would reveal a weakness and he didn't trust the man enough yet to expose himself like that. While flipping the pages awkwardly he found a drawing, showing an old man and a young boy and he wondered why Jean-Luc had brought him the book.

 

Jean-Luc suddenly realized the boy's problem. He had been so convinced that Remy could read that he had never considered asking before giving him the book. "You can' read, non?"

 

Remy flinched, embarrassed. "No one ever taught me, m'sieur." He put the book back down on the bed and lowered his eyes, waiting for Jean-Luc's reaction; he had obviously disappointed the man and he couldn't figure out why it meant so much to him to make Jean-Luc proud of him! He barely knew the man!

 

Jean-Luc felt guilty for making Remy feel ashamed and picked up the book again. "I can teach you how to read and write," he offered.

 

"Merci, m'sieur, mais I ain' smart 'nough to learn."

 

Jean-Luc cringed, hearing the self loathing in Remy's tone. "Nonsense, I'll teach you."

 

"Don' bother, m'sieur. I won' be 'round much longer anyway."

 

Jean-Luc cast caution to the wind and sat down on the side of Remy's bed, ignoring the nervousness in the alien eyes as he cupped the boy's face in his hand. "You plannin' on leavin', petit?"

 

"I'm really grateful dat you took care of me, m'sieur, mais I know I can' stay. Dis is a bon home, not meant for street rats like me." One big tear flowed down his cheek. "I'll pay you back, m'sieur, don' know how yet, mais I will."

 

Jean-Luc took a deep breath to steady himself. He was trembling himself, while trying to radiate calm and reassurance. "You'll stay here, Remy. Forget 'bout leavin'. Don' even think about tryin' to pay me back." How could he convince Remy that his intentions were honest?

 

"Oui, m'sieur," Remy said, mechanically, but there was one more thing he needed to know. "Philippe?"

 

Oui, dat's it! Jean-Luc realized his chance. "Wanna visit his grave?"

 

"Can we?" Remy's eyes grew clouded. Had Jean-Luc kept his promise and given his friend a last resting place?

 

"Oui, we can." Jean-Luc rose to his feet. He had finally found a way to get through to Remy. "I'll ask Mattie to dress you in warm clothes and den we'll visit Philippe's grave, oui?"

 

Remy gave him a sad smile. "Oui, m'sieur."

 

///

 

"You'd betta listen to Monsieur LeBeau, chile. Don' run off, he'll find you within de hour, understood?" Mattie wrapped a thick scarf around Remy's throat, put a mitten on his left hand and adjusted the sling that supported his broken wrist beneath the thick coat he was wearing.

 

Remy was feeling warm. Tante had dressed him in a shirt, a sweater, vest, jeans, woolen socks and warm boots. The thick coat reached to his ankles and he had never felt this warm before. "I'll listen to m'sieur LeBeau," he promised tante and took a first tentative step. Relieved that he no longer felt sore, he took another step and another... he was walking on his own and smiled, reaching the front door. He had made it on his own!

 

"Bravo, petit," Jean-Luc complimented him and then carefully wrapped an arm around Remy, ready to pull back in case the boy flinched away from his touch. But Remy was way too happy to be out of bed and walking again to notice Jean-Luc's closeness.

 

Remy panted slightly. After being horizontal for the last few days he even felt lightheaded, but welcomed the sensation for it meant that he was getting better.

 

Jean-Luc guided Remy to the black Sedan and helped him slip into the back seat. He sat down beside the boy and kept a close eye on him. A blush had settled on Remy's cheeks and he didn't know if it was due to excitement or exhaustion. "You must care a great deal for dis Philippe," he started, trying to get Remy to talk.

 

Remy shrugged his shoulders. "I used to... in de beginnin', when we'd jus' met."

 

Remy had been remarkably quiet about his escape from the Antiquary's home and Jean-Luc hoped Remy felt comfortable enough to tell him what had happened. "I remember dere was a huge cloud of smoke." He decided against telling Remy just yet that he had instigated the incident.

 

"Oui, a lot of smoke," Remy said, his thoughts traveling back in time to the day he had escaped. "I had to move quickly and ran 'way, ended up on de streets and... I never knew dere was anot'er life beside de one I had wit' de Antiquary. A cop tried to take me to de hospital, I guess 'cause I looked lost, mais I ran, couldn' trust him, you see. Den I met Philippe. He was a hustler and a drug addict, mais I didn' know dat yet. He took me to a shelter and dere was dis nice lady called Marie. She gave me clean clothes, mais den I overheard her sayin' dat she was gonna contact de Antiquary and I had to run 'gain... I found Philippe and he took me in."

 

Jean-Luc listened, breathlessly, as Remy finally let everything out. He should have searched harder. "And Philippe took good care of you?"

 

Remy laughed, embittered. "Non... oui... well, he talked up de johns and I sucked dem off for money... dey told me I got a talented mout'... Philippe needed more dope and I got more johns... He shot me up once and I didn' want to be high, mais he didn' listen..." Remy's breath hitched uncontrollably.

 

Jean-Luc realized the worst was yet to come. "Remy?"

 

"Some john offered him five-hundred dollars if Philippe let him fuck me. Philippe was my pimp and he accepted... I was still fightin' off de drugs when he flipped me onto my stomach..." Tears were running down Remy's cheeks and he licked them from his lips.

 

"I must have passed out and when I woke up 'gain, Philippe was dead... The john probably wanted his money back 'cause I passed out... Dat's when I decided to run 'way 'gain and tried to steal your wallet."

 

Shocked, Jean-Luc stared at Remy, who had stopped crying. Remy had wrapped one arm around his waist and was rocking hard. "Petit, I'm so sorry," he whispered, wondering how he could help this lost soul.

 

"Dat's what Philippe said... I t'ink... I remember hearin' him say dat..." Determinedly, Remy wiped away his tears and stared outside. "He was de only friend I had."

 

Jean-Luc quickly wiped away his own tears, which he had hidden from Remy. Mon Dieu, it's even worse dan I thought. He was alone and tried to survive de only way he could.

 

"I ain' even sure why I ran 'way. Oui, de Antiquary hurt me as well, mais... I didn' have to sell myself to stay 'live."

 

"In what way did de Antiquary hurt you?" Jean-Luc wanted to know what had made Remy run away in the first place. "Did he sexually assault you?"

 

Remy chuckled, coldly. "When Philippe told me about rape, I thought de Antiquary had raped me... In a way de old man did, mais he raped my mind. He invaded my mind, took what he wanted, needed, drained me and..." Remy's voice was devoid of any emotions. "I wanna see Philippe's grave."

 

Jean-Luc looked outside and realized they had arrived. The car stopped, parked and he opened the door so Remy could get out first. He followed quickly and walked Remy to a newly dug grave in the corner of the cemetery.

 

Feeling tired, Remy raised his head and looked at the grave. Jean-Luc had even put up a tombstone.

 

"I only knew his first name," Jean-Luc said apologetically.

 

"I don' know his last name eit'er," Remy admitted. The tombstone looked empty with only the one name on it. "Can you add somet'in' to de tombstone?" Remy asked in a tiny tone, not wanting to infringe on his generous savior.

 

"What do you want it to say, Remy?" Jean-Luc sat on his heels and looked into Remy's watering eyes.

 

"Here lies Philippe," Remy started, searching for the right words... "Non, just put up 'Regrets and forgiveness'. Would you do dat, m'sieur?"

 

"Mais oui, Remy. We'll come back when de tombstone has been changed, oui?"

 

"And some flowers for his grave? It looks so... empty... uncared for..." Remy took a few steps away from Jean-Luc and clawed at the earth that covered Philippe's coffin. "Mebbe we can plant some forget-me-nots? I t'ink he would have liked dat."

 

Remy's form began to crumble and Jean-Luc moved quickly, catching the fainting boy. Visiting Philippe's grave had proved too much for the drained child. He carried Remy back to the car, making a mental note to make the changes Remy had asked for. The next time they visited the grave the words would have been added to the tombstone and forget-me-nots planted on the grave.

 

Cradling Remy's body in his arms, he slipped into the back seat and told his driver to hurry home.

 

///

 

"How's de petit doin?'" Mattie entered the room and came to a stop just behind Jean-Luc, looking at Remy as well.

 

"He collapsed," Jean-Luc said, thoughtfully. "Mattie, will he recover?"

 

Mattie stepped in front of him, blocking his view of Remy. "Physically, oui."

 

"And emotionally?"

 

"It's hard to say, Jean. He's been hurt so bad..." Mattie caught Jean's eyes. "Can you be a fat'er to him? For de rest of his life? He'll need you so bad."

 

"I can do dat," Jean-Luc said resolved.

 

Mattie nodded her head. "Den listen carefully, Jean. De chile has de gift."

 

"De gift?" Jean-Luc started a little. "Are you tellin' me he's a telepath?"

 

"Non, not a telepath... but his mind is strong. His mind is special. Use it to get through to him. You'll have to bide your time until his powers reveal demselves."

 

"What 'bout de Antiquary?"

 

"I talked to him," Mattie revealed. "He still wants de chile back, but is too weak to cross you right now. Be 'ware of de snake, Jean, or he'll take de chile 'way from you."

 

"I'll guard Remy." Jean-Luc stroked the soft hair and smiled. "Welcome home, mon fils."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Chapter five.

Discoveries.

 

Several days later, Remy sneaked through the LeBeau mansion, still trying to draw as little attention as possible. So many things had happened since he had visited Philippe's grave. Jean-Luc had kept his word and had had the writing on the tombstone changed, adding some forget-me-nots as well. He had sobbed softly when they had visited the grave yesterday.

 

Now he was beginning to feel at home here and that scared him. He had never felt this cherished and welcome before and he was waiting for Jean-Luc and Mattie to throw him out. As he walked down the corridor, he headed for Jean-Luc's study. Jean-Luc had assured him that he could visit whenever he wanted and he had never seen a study before.

 

It felt liberating to be finally able to walk on his own. Although he still felt dizzy at times, he was recovering and the only thing that annoyed him was his cast. The skin beneath it itched terribly!

 

Remembering his manners, Remy knocked on the door and waited for Jean-Luc's answer.

 

"Oui?"

 

"It's Remy, m'sieur," he said softly, wondering if this was a good idea after all.

 

"Come inside, mon fils."

 

Remy cringed at hearing those last two words. He really didn't understand why Jean-Luc called him son. Cautiously, he looked inside. "I can go 'way 'gain," he offered, seeing Jean-Luc reading some papers.

 

"Non, petit. I 'ways enjoy your company." Jean-Luc put the papers aside and gestured Remy to approach. It was the first time the boy had taken the initiative and it pleased him that Remy was growing more confident.

 

Soundlessly, Remy walked over to the couch in the corner of the study, his eyes always on Jean-Luc. When he sat down, he jumped up again as an angry growl echoed through the room. Remy froze in his tracks, scared to look down at what was causing the growls. "Sorry, m'sieur, didn' know, didn' look..."

 

"Remy, meet Napoleon," Jean-Luc chuckled, walked over to the couch and picked up the big, fat, orange tomcat. Napoleon usually disliked strangers, but he hoped the tomcat would make an exception for Remy. As far as he knew Remy had never had a pet before and maybe the boy would like taking care of Napoleon. Please behave, he pleaded privately as he petted Napoleon.

 

Remy's big eyes betrayed his surprise and nervousness. He'd seen cats and dogs before, even rats and mice in the building where he and Philippe had lived, but this cat was huge! Shuffling his feet, he wondered what Jean-Luc expected him to do. He hid his hands behind his back, makin sure he couldn't knock anything over accidentally.

 

"Would you like to pet him?" Jean-Luc watched Remy's face, seeing hope and uncertainty battle there and he wondered which would be victorious.

 

"Would like to, m'sieur, mais I don' t'ink he'll let me." The cat looked majestic, staring at him suspiciously.

 

"Remy, sit down." Jean-Luc waited until Remy had made himself comfortable and then walked over to him. "Open your arms."

 

"What 'bout de cast, m'sieur? He won' like dat..." Remy's voice sounded tiny and nervous.

 

Jean-Luc sat down beside Remy and waited for the boy to extend his arms. Slowly, hoping Napoleon would co-operate, he placed the tomcat in Remy's arms. The boy's eyes turned impossibly huge, feeling the soft fur and weight settle on his lap.

 

"He's heavy, m'sieur." Remy didn't dare move, afraid the cat would leap off his lap again. Cocking his head, he tried to catch the cat's blue eyes. Nervously, he licked his lips.

 

Jean-Luc smiled, took hold of Remy's left hand and rested it on Napoleon's head. "He likes it when you rub behind his ears."

 

"He's gonna jump off my lap, m'sieur!" Why would such a magnificent cat want to stay?

 

Seeing Napoleon stretch on the boy's lap, Jean-Luc felt confident that the tomcat accepted Remy. "Rub behind his ears," he repeated encouragingly.

 

Gingerly, Remy touched the silky fur and then Napoleon's head. "He's soft, m'sieur."

 

Napoleon leaned into the touch and Remy rubbed behind his ears as Jean-Luc had told him. The fur was one of the most amazing things he'd ever felt, so soft, so warm. Cautiously, he tried to pull Napoleon closer to his chest to cuddle the cat.

 

Jean-Luc briefly held his breath, hoping Napoleon truly accepted Remy as part of the family. The tomcat didn't disappoint him; Napoleon began to purr luxuriously, pushing his head against Remy's hand, urging the boy to continue stroking his head.

 

A huge smile flashed across Remy's features. "He's stayin'... why?" He wanted to never let go of Napoleon, to carry the cat with him wherever he went, even hold him during the night, but Napoleon would never allow it so he treasured these rare moments.

 

"He likes you, Remy," Jean-Luc said pleased and ruffled the boy's hair. However, Remy flinched away and he quickly broke the contact, studying the boy instead. "I like you too, Remy."

 

Remy tightened his hold on the cat. This was it; the moment he'd feared all along! "You like me? What's your pleasure, m'sieur? Want me to suck you off or..." Remy felt silent as Jean-Luc jumped to his feet and marched back to his desk. "M'sieur?"

 

"Don' you ever offer yourself to me 'gain, Remy! I'm not a john and you're not a hustler, understood?"

 

Remy shrunk back, pulled up his knees and crushed Napoleon against his chest. The tomcat mewed in protest, but didn't try to claw his way out. "Sorry, m'sieur, I t'ought... I don' understand... why else are you helpin' me?"

 

Staring into Remy's clueless eyes, Jean-Luc sighed. He should have known better, should have controlled his anger, which wasn't aimed at Remy, but at himself for failing the boy when he had only been a helpless baby. Slowly, giving Remy time to compose himself, he returned to the couch and sat on his heels in front of Remy. Poor Napoleon... Remy was crushing the tomcat against his chest and the fact that Napoleon allowed it surprised him.

 

"Remy, you can ease your hold on Napoleon. He isn' leavin'." Jean-Luc desperately searched for the right words.

 

Shocked, Remy realized that he was slowly suffocating Napoleon and let go abruptly. The tomcat dropped from his lap, but landed on his feet, licking his fur. Remy didn't believe his eyes when Napoleon jumped back onto his lap and began to massage his belly with his paws. "What's he doin', m'sieur?"

 

Jean-Luc felt relieved now that the emotional storm had passed. Remy was completely focused on the cat and had seemingly forgotten about their argument. "He t'inks your his mère. Cats continue to do dis even after dey left deir litter."

 

"It...tickles," Remy chuckled softly.

 

"Remy, did you ever have a pet?"

 

"Pet, m'sieur?" Remy avoided Jean-Luc's eyes. Hopefully Jean-Luc wouldn't remember what they had been discussing originally because he felt ashamed for thinking Jean-Luc wanted a blowjob as payment for his care. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

 

"Oui, a pet. Napoleon is my pet. I look after him, feed him, pet him... would you like to take over for me? Napoleon needs a lot of attention and I'm busy workin' most of de time." Remy's big eyes told him he had hit bull's eye. "You would like dat, oui?" Poor Napoleon. Sorry, mon ami, Remy will not easily let go now he has a hold on you. But Napoleon's wise expression reassured him. It was like the cat knew Remy needed him.

 

"Can I, m'sieur? I'll take bon care of him... will feed him, pet him..." Remy was rambling and his eyes flared bright red, then dampened again. "Mais non, I can' do dat. He's yours, m'sieur."

 

"He's our pet, Remy, oui?" Jean-Luc gave Remy a look filled with hope. "Please accept dis li'l gift from me to you?"

 

Remy nodded his head weakly and felt like he needed to apologize. "I'm sorry, m'sieur."

 

"Why are you sorry?" Jean-Luc carefully watched Remy rub behind Napoleon's ears.

 

"For t'inkin' dat you... dat you wanted me to... suck you off... to pay you back... I jus' don' understand why you're takin' care of me." Remy bowed his head in defeat, closed his eyes and concentrated on cuddling the tomcat. "I'm still scared you'll hand me over to de Antiquary or t'row me out onto de streets 'gain. I can' believe I'm dis lucky."

 

Jean-Luc nodded his head once. "I understand, Remy, I really do, mais dis is for real, oui?" One day I'll have to tell you dat I stole you from de hospital and delivered you into de Antiquary's hands, mais not yet. You need to gain strength first.

 

A comfortable silence descended on the study and Jean-Luc found that Remy's eyes were closing. "Are you tired, Remy?"

 

"A petit peu, m'sieur. It's been de first time I left my room on my own..." Until now either tante or Jean-Luc had helped him getting around. "Mais I don' wanna leave Nappie yet."

 

"Nappie?" Jean-Luc raised an eyebrow, but the dignified tomcat seemed to accept the nickname as he licked Remy's left hand. "Why don' you take him wit' you?"

 

"Can' walk and carry him at de same time, m'sieur. I would drop him..." Remy yawned and rested his head against the cushions. Rain was crashing against the window and he smiled, melancholy. "I hate rain."

 

"You do?" Jean-Luc picked up Napoleon and put him on the floor. Then he lifted Remy in his arms and carried the sleepy boy back to his room. Napoleon followed and jumped onto Remy's bed when Jean-Luc put the boy in its center. Knowing that Remy didn't want him to undress him, Jean-Luc simply covered him with a blanket. He had tried undressing Remy once when he had been half asleep and the boy had started fighting him, reliving some horrid memories.

 

Napoleon curled up beside Remy and the boy wrapped his arms around the tomcat. "Poor Napoleon," Jean-Luc whispered.

 

"I heard dat... want him back?" Remy failed to open his eyes. Napoleon radiated heat and made him feel warm from the inside. It was like the tomcat was inside his mind, but this time he didn't shrink back in fear like when the Antiquary had drained him. Napoleon felt warm, and a protective blanket wrapped itself around his thoughts, luring him into relaxation.

 

"It's startin' Jean."

 

Jean-Luc startled hearing Mattie's voice. He hadn't heard her enter the room. "What is?"

 

"His powers... I don' think he's a telepath," Mattie said, walking over to the bed and stroking Remy's hair. "An empath mebbe."

 

"Empath?" Frowning, Jean-Luc's gaze shifted from Remy to Mattie. "Can you teach him how to control his power?"

 

"I can try," Mattie whispered, smiling. "He's a good chile, Jean. Stop worryin'. Remy will be fine."

 

"I hope so." Jean-Luc released a sigh and left Remy's room, giving Mattie and Remy some privacy as she started undressing the boy. I really hope so, Mattie. Remy's been so badly hurt... so badly... can our love heal him? Jean-Luc looked over his shoulder and found that Remy was sound asleep. I'll love you so much that you'll have to heal, Remy. I won' fail you' gain.

 

///

 

Jean-Luc hugged Henri, welcoming his son home at last. Henri had been away on Guild matters and it had taken him longer than expected to wrap everything up in New York. "Mon fils, it's good to have you back."

 

Henri smiled as well and patted his father's back. "It's good to be back!"

 

Jean-Luc and Henri walked to his study and the first thing Henri noticed was Napoleon's absence. "Did somethin' happen to Napoleon while I was 'way?"

 

"Sit down, Henri. I need to tell you some things." Jean-Luc filled two glasses with Bourbon and handed his son one. "About four months ago we tried to sprin' de chile with de alien eyes, remember?"

 

"Oui." Henri sipped his Bourbon. "And we failed. What's got dis to do with Napoleon?"

 

"I ran into de boy a week ago. He's been stayin' with me ever since. Napoleon kinda adopted de boy."

 

Henri was surprised, but managed to hide it. "What are your plans regardin' de boy?" His father had never told him why he wanted to free the child, he had just followed Jean-Luc's orders. He trusted his father to have good reasons for taking the boy as his protégé.

 

"I wanna adopt him." Jean-Luc watched his son carefully.

 

"Adopt him?" Henri put his glass down and began pacing the study. "Dat's a big step. Why?"

 

"I owe Remy big time."

 

"Remy?"

 

"Dat's de name he gave himself," Jean-Luc explained. "He hated de name de Antiquary had given him."

 

"You want to make dis official?" Henri considered everything he had heard and wondered what hold the boy had over his father.

 

"Oui." Jean-Luc walked over to his son and rested his hand on Henri's shoulder. "Lemme tell you what he's been through. Mebbe den you'll understand." They sat down on the couch and Jean-Luc told his son what had happened to Remy after the boy had escaped the Antiquary.

 

///

 

Henri studied Remy closely. A layer of blankets covered the boy and he could see Napoleon's whiskers above the fabric. Remy had a dead grip on the tomcat. The boy looked smaller than he remembered; but his face showed deep lines, even in sleep. Jean-Luc had told him about Remy being a hustler, about Philippe, his grave and trying to pick his father's pocket. Jean-Luc definitely had a weak spot for the boy. What do I do? Accept or fight dis?

 

Remy wouldn't present any danger to his position; he would always be Jean-Luc's firstborn and true flesh and blood. His ego could take having an adopted brother. "Did you 'ready tell him 'bout your plans?"

 

"Non, I wanted you to know first, mais my mind's made up, Henri. I will adopt him."

 

"Remy LeBeau..." Henri said softly. "Why not."

 

Jean-Luc smiled. "Now, keep in mind dat he's probably an empath. Remy will figure out if you really accept him or if you're only pretendin'."

 

"Oui, he's a mutant," Henri recalled. "Do you t'ink he has other powers as well?"

 

"I don' know much 'bout mutants. Mattie's de expert, mais she said it's unlikely mutants have more dan one power." Jean-Luc sat down on the side of the bed and stroked Remy's hair. The boy moved restlessly, trying to squirm away from Jean-Luc's hand and he stopped the caress. He didn't want to evoke any flashbacks.

 

"When will Marcel make dis official?" Marcel was their lawyer and would handle the adoption.

 

"He will drop by tomorrow. I want you to be present as well."

 

Henri nodded his head. "I'm lookin' forward to gettin' to know my petit frère."

 

Jean-Luc truly hoped Henri was being honest with him. "He needs a big brother."

 

"Don' worry, I'll be one."

 

///

 

Remy yawned, rubbed his eyes and hugged Napoleon upon waking up. "Good mornin'," he whispered into the tomcat's ear. "I'm glad you stayed." But it was more than that. Napoleon was still inside his mind and the cat's presence was comforting and warmed his chilly soul. "Dis will be our li'l secret, non? We won' tell dem."

 

It surprised him that Napoleon's presence in his mind didn't freak him out. It brought back bad memories about the Antiquary, but having Napoleon this close also soothed his troubled mind. The cat had also been responsible for his peaceful sleep, somehow keeping the nightmares away.

 

Was this Napoleon's doing or his? How was it possible that he felt the cat in his mind? "You're mon ami, oui?"

 

In the doorway Mattie watched them and realized she had to teach him how to control his powers. But that also meant telling Remy that she was a telepath and the only telepath Remy had ever known was the Antiquary. The boy would fear her and never let her get close again. She had to bide her time and wait for the right opportunity to show Remy that not all telepaths fed on others to stay alive.

 

"Mornin' chile. It's time to rise and shine!" Remy was startled and Mattie pretended not seeing his apprehension. She wanted him to feel safe for now and didn't mention her worries. "Need me to help you get dressed?" Remy's right wrist was still in a cast and made it hard for him to dress himself.

 

"I wanna try on my own." Remy didn't want to release Napoleon, but sensed that the cat needed to stretch his legs and get a bite to eat, so he let go. He climbed out of bed and walked into the bathroom to splash some water onto his face. He wanted to take a quick shower or bath, but something told him tante didn't have the time to wrap his cast in plastic this morning. Within minutes he brushed his teeth, combed his hair, stepped into some jeans and put on a sweater. He was actually quite pleased with himself that he'd managed to do all this without Mattie's help.

 

To his delight, Napoleon was still on his bed, waiting for him. "Nappie!" He jumped back onto the bed and rubbed the tomcat's tummy.

 

Mattie watched them, smiling gently. "Come on, chile. Napoleon's hungry and so are you."

 

Remy followed Mattie to the kitchen and sat down to eat his breakfast. "You'e tryin' to fatten me up!"

 

"Oui, I am," Mattie admitted as she put Napoleon's food into a bowl, feeding him. "Jean-Luc wants to see you after you're done eatin'."

 

Remy was busy shoveling his food into his mouth and Mattie sighed. "Slow down, chile, or you'll have another stomach ache." No matter what she tried or said, Remy couldn't slow down eating.

 

"Why does m'sieur want to see me?" Remy asked between two bites of bacon and eggs.

 

Mattie shrugged her shoulders. "I don' know," she said, lying. She knew Jean-Luc wanted to tell Remy about the adoption and introduce him to Henri and she didn't want to spoil the surprise. "And why do you keep callin' him m'sieur? He asked you to call him Jean-Luc."

 

Remy actually smiled shyly. "Don' know, Mattie."

 

"Now you're playin' games with tante!" she chided him. Remy had finished breakfast and she shooed him toward Jean-Luc's study. "Don' keep him waitin'!"

 

Remy was already half-way to Jean-Luc's study when he quickly turned and ran back to the kitchen.

 

"Chile, what?" Mattie smiled as Remy picked up Napoleon. It took the boy a lot of effort to lift the heavy tomcat and Remy swayed on his feet. "You'd betta start eatin' more! Napoleon weighs more dan you do!"

Remy chuckled and managed to lift the cat to his chest. "You're comin' wit' me... not leavin' me 'lone."

 

When he finally arrived at Jean-Luc's study he realized he couldn't knock because he had his hands full of cat. "Huh? M'sieur?" he called out instead.

 

"Remy?" Jean-Luc opened the door and grinned, seeing the boy's predicament. "Want me to take Napoleon?"

 

"Non, I can manage!" Remy stepped inside, but froze, seeing the two strangers. His bravado disappeared and he moved closer to Jean-Luc, seeking the man's protection.

 

Jean-Luc noticed Remy's fear and sat on his heels in front of the boy. "I want you to meet dese people. Dey're friends." Remy nodded his head, but obviously distrusted the strangers. After rising to his feet again, Jean-Luc guided Remy to his desk. "Remy, put Napoleon onto de couch."

 

Remy sighed, but obeyed at once. "Oui, m'sieur."

 

"Remy, I want you to meet Henri LeBeau, he's mon fils." Jean-Luc watched Remy's reaction closely and saw the shock in the boy's eyes.

 

"You're his son?" Remy stared at Henri and quickly averted his eyes.

 

Henri and Jean-Luc exchanged a look. Henri smiled, mimicked his father's move and went down on his heels so he was level with Remy. "Bonjour, Remy." He offered the boy his hand.

 

Remy awkwardly accepted it. "Bonjour, m'sieur." Why hadn't Jean-Luc told him he had a son? Now he felt guilty for taking up Jean-Luc's time when he should have been spending it with his son!

 

"And this is Marcel, he's my lawyer. Do you know what dat word means?" Jean-Luc asked.

 

"Tante's teachin' me new words, oui, I know..." Remy searched his memory. "Mais I don' know how to explain it."

 

"He deals with official matters, Remy and I asked him to come here because I want to make dis official." Jean-Luc signaled Remy to stand beside him behind the desk. Remy obeyed hesitantly. "I know you can' read yet," Jean-Luc started, seeing shame in Remy's eyes. "Don' worry, you'll learn how to read and write, mais right now you'll have to trust me."

 

Jean-Luc noted that Remy nodded his head, but didn't confirm he trusted him. It's probably too soon for dat. Jean-Luc cleared his throat and pointed at the paper. "Dis is your name right here."

 

"It says Remy?" He forgot about Henri and Marcel and cocked his head, recognizing the "E" which tante had taught him to write.

 

"It says Remy LeBeau." Jean-Luc held his breath, watching Remy closely.

 

"M'sieur? I don' understand." Helplessly, Remy looked at Jean-Luc. What game was Jean-Luc playing? Mais non, he doesn' play games.

 

"I want to adopt you, Remy. I want you as mon fils." Jean-Luc smiled as Remy's eyes widened in shocked surprise. "I want you to be part of dis family."

 

The first thing he felt at hearing those words was pure joy and he barely controlled the urge to throw his arms around Jean-Luc's neck and to hug him, but then he shook his head. "Merci, m'sieur, mais I can' accept."

 

Frowning, Jean-Luc cupped Remy's chin in the palm of his hand and sought out the boy's eyes. "And why's dat?"

 

"Henri is your fils. He needs you... can' take his père 'way from him." An incredible sadness slipped into his swimming eyes. He wanted Jean-Luc as his father, wanted the man to take care of him, but couldn't take him away from Henri!

 

Henri reacted at once and walked up to Remy. "Petit, come here and talk to me." He guided Remy to the couch and sat him down. Automatically, Remy's hand went in search of Napoleon to touch the fur. Henri smiled, convinced that his father was doing the right thing. "Remy?" He waited for Remy to look at him before he continued and he cringed seeing the lost expression in the red on black eyes. This boy desperately needed a father and family.

 

Remy trembled, wondering just how mad Henri was at him for trying to take away his father.

 

"Jean-Luc's a bon père, Remy. He raised me well, at least I t'ink so, mais you need him more dan I do. You need a père to take care of you. I'll 'ways love my père and I want you to love him too. Please, Remy?"

 

Remy's eyes went from nearly orange to bright red during his little speech and Henri watched the transformation in fascination. "You'd be mon petit frère, oui? We can do t'ings as a family."

 

Tears flowed down Remy's cheek. "Are you sure, m'sieur?" He couldn't believe Henri accepted him like this!

 

"I'm sure, oui." Henri pulled Remy gently to his feet and walked him back to Jean-Luc's desk where he picked up a pen and put it into Remy's left hand. "Lemme help?"
 

Remy nodded his head and watched in amazement as Henri guided his hand into writing his name beneath Jean-Luc's. Was this really happening?

 

Jean-Luc practically radiated happiness and contentment as he wrapped his arms around Remy, who oddly enough allowed it, not kicking to free himself. "You're Remy LeBeau now."

Remy tried to wipe away his tears, but found that Jean-Luc had a tight hold on him. So he surrendered instead, resting his head on Jean-Luc's shoulder and soaking up the man's compassion and love.

"Call me poppa?" Jean-Luc met Remy's eyes and smiled encouragingly.

 

"Ain' sure," Remy whispered, peeking to see if Henri was really okay with this. Henri nodded his head and Remy finally found the courage to address Jean-Luc. "Poppa."

 

Jean-Luc sighed, relieved that things had worked out and hugged his son. "You'll 'ways have a home here, mon fils." He held Remy close while the boy cried.

 

Poppa... poppa... I got a père, a père who loves me! Remy buried his head against Jean-Luc's chest and let go of all the feelings, which he had kept bottled up inside.

 

"Je t'aime, petit." Jean-Luc stroked the soft hair.

 

"Je t'aime, poppa."

 

A solitary tear made its way down Jean-Luc's cheek hearing those three little words.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Chapter six

First times

 

"Remy, we need to talk." Mattie and Jean-Luc exchanged a pleased look as Remy approached. The boy had been at the LeBeau household for over a year now and barely resembled the scared hustler they had taken in at all. Feeding Remy healthy food and making him work out had improved his physical condition and they were now here to deal with the emotional side.

 

"Tante, poppa." Remy smiled, showing off his white teeth. The dentist had shaken his head in disbelief when he had first taken a seat in the dentist chair, but investing money and time had certainly paid off.

 

"You keep growin', don' you?" Jean-Luc remarked teasingly. "We need to buy new clothes 'gain. One shoppin' trip comin' up... Mattie can take you."

 

Although Remy felt much more comfortable around Jean-Luc and Mattie, he always reminded himself how lucky he had been to pick Jean-Luc's pocket that day. "Henri said I did well on de agility test." Remy blushed. "He said I'd make a fine t'ief, be a grand addition to de Guild."

 

Jean-Luc nodded his head, remembering the surprise on Remy's face when he had told the boy about the Guild. Remy had been very eager to make Jean-Luc proud and had worked hard on becoming the best thief there was. "You'll make a great t'ief, Remy." He reached out and ruffled Remy's long hair. He had suggested cutting it, claiming long hair could hamper a thief, but Remy had declined and he respected his son's wishes. "Mais dat's not why we wanna talk to you."

 

Remy's eyes darkened and Jean-Luc realized the boy still felt insecure, probably always would, no matter how much he reassured Remy. "Come, sit wit' us." Jean-Luc picked up Napoleon, who'd felt neglected lately now that Remy devoted more time to his studies and dropped the tomcat on Remy's lap. Napoleon purred as Remy rubbed behind his ears.

 

"Bonjour, mon ami," Remy whispered, staring into the cat's eyes. Napoleon's mind was strong, remarkably strong for an animal and he soaked up the cat's affection for him. In return, he rubbed Napoleon's belly.

 

"What do you wanna talk to me 'bout?" Remy said hesitantly, hoping he hadn't displeased or disappointed the two people that meant the world to him.

 

"You're doin' remarkably well wit' your studies," Jean-Luc started, trying to reassure Remy, "mais we never discussed your feelings."

 

"My feelings?" Remy frowned. "I don' understand." Didn't Jean-Luc know how thankful he was that the Patriarch had taken him in? Didn't they know how much he loved them? That they were the only ones he trusted?

 

"We know all dat, chile," Mattie said, steering the conversation toward her telepathy. "We know you love us, trust us and how grateful you are."

 

Remy jumped to his feet and Napoleon's reflexes kicked in, making sure the tomcat landed safely on his feet. "You know what I was t'inkin'!" Remy's eyes narrowed and his old suspicions surfaced again, accompanied by bad memories featuring the Antiquary. The old monster had known what he had been thinking as well! Dazedly, he stared at Mattie, moving away from her.

 

Mattie sighed. "Oui, I'm a telepath, Remy."

 

"Jus' like de Antiquary." He'd learned a lot since living with the LeBeau's. "What do you want?" He closed his eyes against the memories, not wanting to relive them after all this time. "Why don' you leave me 'lone?" He rested his forehead against the wall; why was Mattie doing this to him?

 

"Non, I'm not like de Antiquary. I don' feed on your life energy, Remy." Mattie walked toward him, but refrained from touching him. He didn't trust her right now and would only grow more distant. "I wanna help."

 

Remy's eyes met hers. "Help?" Could he still trust her? She had said she didn't want his life energy, but she wanted something from him.

 

"I wanna teach you how to control your empathy. You need strong shields and..."

 

"Empathy?" Remy's eyes grew big.

 

"Oui, you're an empath. You read emotions like I read thoughts." Mattie gave him a thoughtful look. "You've been broadcastin' dese last few days. You're gettin' stronger and you need to learn how to deal wit' it."

 

"I ain' an empat'," Remy whispered, shocked.

 

"Den how come you feel Napoleon in your mind? Your empathy grew after Jean gave you Napoleon to care for, don' deny it, chile."

 

"I don' wanna be an empat'," Remy mumbled, lost. What was an empath?

 

"You have a beautiful gift, chile. Lemme teach you." Mattie extended her hand, hoping Remy still trusted her. "I'll never let you down, Remy. I want what's best for you. Please, trust me... petit."

 

Hearing that endearment made Remy decide to accept her offer. "You took me in, gave me a reason to live," he started and his gaze shifted from Mattie to Jean-Luc, "I want bot' of you to be proud of me."

 

"You're a great student, Remy, and you'll master dis as well. You make me very proud." Jean-Luc rested his hand on Remy's shoulder, noticed the shiver that washed through Remy's body, but squeezed his son's shoulder nonetheless, trying to show Remy how much he cared. "Listen to Mattie, mon fils, and make me proud."

 

Remy's eyes glowed. "I will."

 

///

 

Henri carried Mattie's suitcase to the black Sedan. They were leaving for New York on Guild matters. Jean-Luc was feeling a bit under the weather, coming down with the flu and had opted to rest and spend some time with Remy instead.

 

Mattie locked eyes with Remy. You be a good chile while tante's gone. They had been working on strengthening Remy's shields and as well as being a strong empath, the boy had turned out to be a weak telepath as well. After Remy's initial reluctance to use telepathic speech the boy had turned out to be a natural. His shields were strong enough to lock her out and he could control his empathy to a certain degree. We will continue to work on dis once I'm back.

 

Oui, tante. Remy glanced at Henri and Jean-Luc. The two men knew tante and he were talking telepathically, but didn't know what that conversation was about. He still tried to stay on Henri's good side, scared Henri might feel jealous of the time Jean-Luc spend with him instead of with his real flesh and blood. Although Henri tried to make him feel like part of the family, Remy would never forget he was only adopted.

 

Mattie and Henri slipped into the back seat and the driver keyed the ignition; Remy and Jean-Luc waved goodbye.

 

Remy felt the fatigue in Jean-Luc's mind and knew that the flu was hitting hard. Jean-Luc had been working too hard and too many hours and his body was paying the toll. Suddenly Jean-Luc's hand settled on his shoulder and he barely repressed the reflex to pull away. Instead, he offered Jean-Luc the support he was looking for. "Wanna go inside 'gain?"

 

"Mebbe I should lie down for a bit," Jean-Luc whispered. Was he running a fever? A coughing fit almost doubled him over. "Mon Dieu, dis cold means business."

 

Concerned, Remy looked at Jean-Luc. "Poppa?"

 

"What are you sensin'?"

 

"Cold's gonna hit hard."

 

Jean-Luc smiled. "Help me to my study? I'll lie down on de couch for an hour. Dat should do de trick." His smile brightened, seeing Remy's frown. The boy would probably turn into a mother hen now Mattie wasn't here!

 

"Poppa?" Remy licked his lips. He had never contradicted Jean-Luc before and felt nervous. "You should go to bed. De couch will only wreck your back."

 

"Are you tellin' me I'm gettin' old, chile?" Jean-Luc chuckled, but then started to cough again. "Mebbe you're right. Take me to my room instead."

 

Pleased, Remy guided Jean-Luc to his private chambers. He had only been here once or twice before when the nightmares had turned so bad that Jean-Luc had let him sleep in his bed.

 

Jean-Luc sat down on his bed and sighed deeply, which set off another coughing fit. "Merde!"

 

"I can get you some hot tea," Remy offered, eager to take care of Jean-Luc. He closed the curtains, switched on a lamp and helped Jean-Luc remove his boots.

 

"Dis is absurd! I'm never ill! I don' get de flu!" Jean-Luc panted for breath, feeling an increasing pressure in his lungs. He started to lie down but Remy stopped him, fluffing his pillows so he wasn't completely horizontal. "I would like some tea." Remy's eyes glowed with pleasure and Jean-Luc smiled despite feeling nauseous and dizzy. Remy will baby me to deat'!

 

"What kinda tea would you like, poppa?" Remy tucked the blanket around Jean-Luc's form. He had never had the chance to take care of Jean-Luc and he wanted to do everything right.

 

"Chamomile, wit' a hint of lemon? Steamin' hot?" Jean-Luc actually enjoyed seeing Remy fuss over him.

 

"One hot tea comin' up!" Remy started for the door, then looked over his shoulder. "Are you comfortable, poppa? Anyt'in' else you want me to fetch?"

 

"Hot tea is jus' fine, Remy." Jean-Luc sighed relieved when Remy had left his room. Even Mattie wasn't this bad! He won' hardly let me out of his sight...

 

///

 

Remy hurried back to Jean-Luc, carrying the tray with hot tea and crackers. He was humming softly, determined to take care of Jean-Luc until his father felt better. "Poppa?"

 

"I'm still 'wake, Remy..." Jean-Luc sneezed and realized he didn't have any tissues.

 

"Want me to get you some tissues?" Remy handed Jean-Luc the mug filled with hot tea.

 

"You're cheatin', petit."

 

Remy felt caught in the act. Jean-Luc had given him permission to peak at his mind, but he still felt hesitant to do so. Jean-Luc had formidable shields himself and he wouldn't be able to read his father's thoughts if Jean-Luc didn't want him to.

 

"Tissues, right." Remy looked about and headed for the bathroom. He placed the box with tissues next to Jean-Luc and stood in front of the bed, wondering what to do next. Jean-Luc blew his nose and Remy giggled.

 

"What?"

 

"Your nose is glowin'," Remy remarked teasingly.

 

"Why don' you fetch Napoleon and keep me company? It's been a while since we talked."

 

Napoleon walked into the room, looked at them and settled down at the foot of Jean-Luc's bed.

 

"He must have heard dat," Jean-Luc teased. "Remy, come here." He patted the space next to him and noticed that the old wariness returned to Remy's eyes. "You know you can trust me, petit."

 

Remy sat cross-legged on the bed and watched Jean-Luc closely. "What?"

 

"You're doin' so well, Remy. When I took you in, I hoped you'd recover, mais I feared it was too late." He had wanted to tell Remy about his betrayal several times, but had chickened out. How could he tell Remy he had delivered him into the Antiquary's hands? "You feel at home here?"

 

Remy quickly nodded his head. "Oui, love it here."

 

Jean-Luc speech was stopped short by another coughing fit. "Mer..." He didn't even get the chance to finish the word, feeling weak and cold.

 

Remy left the bed to collect another blanket and placed it on top of the first. "Warmer?"

 

"Merci, Remy." Sipping his tea, Jean-Luc felt at peace, in spite of being ill.

 

///

 

"Dis... is... disgustin'!" Jean-Luc cringed; a sneezing bout had taken him by surprise and his hands were covered in snot. His eyes stung, he felt weak and chills wracked his body. Thankfully, Remy was still at his side eighteen hours later, bringing him hot tea and a new load of tissues. "You should get some sleep as well, Remy."

 

"I'm bien," Remy whispered, helping Jean-Luc sip his tea, supporting his father's hand. "I like takin' care of you." The words escaped his lips before he realized what he was saying. Lowering his eyes, he stared at the crackers Jean-Luc had refused to eat, claiming he was nauseous.

 

Jean-Luc smiled encouragingly. "I like takin' care of you too. We're quite a pair, Remy." Suddenly, his stomach contracted. "Remy, bathroom, now!"

 

Remy grabbed Jean-Luc around the waist and supported him while they made their way to the bathroom. Jean-Luc lunged for the porcelain bowl and emptied his stomach. After everything had left his digestive tract, dry heaves continued to torment him. He was very much aware of Remy, who was rubbing his back and brushing back his hair. De roles are certainly reversed.

 

"Poppa? Want me to call tante or Olivier?" Remy was getting worried, feeling the exhaustion in Jean-Luc's mind.

 

"Let's give it another 12 hours, bien? If I don' feel betta by den, we'll call Olivier." Jean-Luc sat back and leaned his back against the wall.

 

Remy flushed the toilet again and looked lost.

 

"Mouthwash?" Jean-Luc suggested, but Remy shook his head.

 

"Non, you should brush your teet' or you'll never get rid of de taste."

 

Jean-Luc chuckled again. "You'd make a bon nurse, Remy. Sure you wanna be t'ief?" He dragged himself to his feet and picked up his toothbrush. "Toothpaste?"

 

Remy uncapped the tube and handed it to Jean-Luc. He felt proud that he could help Jean-Luc and that his father was leaning on him. I'll take bon care of him...

 

After brushing his teeth, Jean-Luc returned to his bed and pushed away the tea. The mere sight of it made him nauseous again. "Remy?"

 

Remy sat beside him and absentmindedly cradled Jean-Luc's hand in his. "It'll get betta, poppa."

 

"Dat's what I said when I'd jus' taken you in." Jean-Luc closed his eyes. The pressure on his lungs was gone now and he hoped he would continue to improve. "You never gave up, petit. Must have been hard on you."

 

"You know what de hardest part was?" Remy soothingly rubbed Jean-Luc's fingers, marveling at how much bigger his father's hand was than his.

 

"What?" Jean-Luc opened his eyes again to search Remy's.

 

 "To believe dat you didn' want some sort of payback... dat you didn' want... me in dat way." Remy bit his bottom lip. "De Antiquary wanted my life energy, Philippe used me to finance his drug habit and de johns... dey jus' wanted sexual favors. It was so hard to believe you were different. I was afraid to believe..."

 

Jean-Luc caressed Remy's fingers, regretting that this boy had suffered so greatly because of a mistake he had made almost eleven years ago. Which reminds me... It's Remy's birthday today, mais I can' tell him, can' explain why I know dat fact.

 

"You seem betta," Remy said, trying to cover up his embarrassment by switching topics.

 

"I feel betta, mebbe you can get me some orange juice?"

 

"Mais oui." Remy regretted letting go of Jean-Luc's hand but did so anyway. These intimate moments had become rare these last few weeks.

 

Jean-Luc used Remy's absence to reach beneath his bed. It would take Remy a few minutes to get the orange juice. He was panting by the time he had lifted Remy's gift from the floor and dropped it onto the bed. Fortunately, the content wasn't fragile.

 

"Poppa? Your orange juice." Remy handed the glass to Jean-Luc and noticed the giftwrapped package that had miraculously appeared on the bed. He pretended to ignore it, but couldn't help wondering what it was doing there.

 

"Open it, mon fils." Jean-Luc knew Remy was going to like his present because he had seen the boy admire it when Mattie had dragged him with them on a shopping trip.

 

Remy's hands trembled when he removed the gift wrapping. Why would Jean-Luc buy him something? His eyes widened, seeing the leather jacket inside. "Poppa?"

 

"I saw you admire it, mais you never ask for anythin' so I decided to buy it for you. Try it on." Jean-Luc nodded his head as Remy slipped into the leather jacket. "A perfect fit."

 

"Merci, poppa, mais why?" His fingers caressed the smooth leather and he avoided Jean-Luc's eyes. Getting gifts made him uncomfortable; he always felt like he should give something in return, except he didn't have anything.

 

Jean-Luc shrugged his shoulders, feeling tired. "It suits you, petit." He deliberately avoided answering Remy's question. "I t'ink I'll nap for a while."

 

Remy stroked back a damp lock from Jean-Luc's face, realizing how much he loved this man. Jean-Luc had truly touched his heart and given him the love he had craved all those years. "Merci, poppa. Je t'aime aussi."

 

He shrugged out of the jacket, reverently placing it over a chair. Yawning, he laid down beside Jean-Luc, snuggled up to his father and cradling Napoleon in his arms.

 

///

 

Jean-Luc experimentally stretched his body and sighed when the movement didn't cause another bout of coughing. Guess de elixir is finally kickin' in. Wonder why I got the flu in de first place! Feeling a warm body against his, he opened his eyes and looked at Remy, who was deeply asleep in his arms. The boy had truly fussed over him like a mother hen when he had been ill. You're a precious gift, Remy and you must love takin' care of me for a change.

 

"Remy? Petit, wake up?" Now that he was feeling better he wanted to check his agenda and see what plans he had made for today. Did I invite Belle and her father over to meet Remy? Marius and he had been talking about uniting the two Guilds and decided a marriage would work best, provided Remy and Belle liked each other.

 

Jean-Luc smiled as Remy continued to sleep right through his attempts at waking him up. Remy's growin' out, his muscles are finally developin', mais he's still too small for his age. He's even growin' facial hair. I'll have to teach him how to shave! Affectionately, his fingers traveled down Remy's chin, and the hairs tickled beneath his fingertips. His voice also deepened a bit. He's becomin' a man.

 

"Remy? Sleepyhead, come on, wake up!" Jean-Luc tried harder now, tickling Remy. He never knew what reaction to expect when he did something unexpected like that. Remy could wake up giggling, but could also freeze up from memories.

 

Remy's eyes flashed open and he started giggling. He had been relaxed in sleep and the nightmares had left him alone. Looking into Jean-Luc's mischievous eyes, he decided offense was the best defense and tickled Jean-Luc back. A few months ago, he would never have dared to touch Jean-Luc in this manner. "You're feelin' betta."

 

"Oui, must have been your bon care, Remy. You really make a bon nurse." Jean-Luc picked up Napoleon and put the tomcat on the floor. "We'll feed you in a sec, mon ami." Turning back to Remy, he said," Merci for lookin' after me. I haven' had de flu in years." Mon Dieu, he's blushin'! Remy's blushin'!

 

Remy squirmed away from Jean-Luc and got to his feet. "I'll make breakfast for you and feed Nappie." Jean-Luc's praise made him feel awkward; he just wasn't used to being complimented.

 

"Bien and I'll take a quick shower. Remy, got any plans for dis afternoon?"

 

"Non, don' t'ink so." Remy halted in the doorway and looked at Jean-Luc who had managed to get out of bed and was stretching his body. "Why?"

 

"I want you to meet someone." Jean-Luc cringed seeing the sudden suspicion in Remy's eyes. The boy would never be able to trust unconditionally and it was his fault.

 

"Who?"

 

"Belladonna." Jean-Luc watched Remy's eyes go big. "Henri told you 'bout her?" Henri had taken on Remy’s training personally, trying to bond with his adopted brother.

 

"Oui, he even showed me pictures of her, mais I never met her 'fore. She's an Assassin, non?"

 

"Oui, and one day she'll be de leader of de Assassins." Jean-Luc had long thought this through. Henri was too old for Belle and engaged to Mercy, but Remy was of the right age and might be interested in Belle. Mais should Remy say non, I don' wanna marry her, de deal is off. I won' sacrifice his happiness.

 

Remy nodded his head; if this was Jean-Luc's wish he'd comply. "I'll be dere."

 

///

 

He's fidgetin'! Jean-Luc grinned, seeing Remy's nervousness. De boy's 'ways insecure when meetin' strangers.

 

He walked over to Remy and rested his hand on the boy's shoulder. Boy? Youn' man is more like it. Only eleven years old, Remy made a very mature impression, probably due to everything he had been through in his short life. "Don' worry, Remy."

 

"I can' help it." Remy managed a weak smile. "I never met any girls 'fore."

 

Jean-Luc hadn't considered that. The Antiquary's Velvet Ministry consisted of boys only and later on the streets Remy had only been in contact with older men. Of course the boy was nervous! "Belle likes you."

 

"She does?" Remy's eyes showed surprise. "How do you know?"

 

"I talked to her." Jean-Luc hoped he wasn't adding to Remy's nervousness by confiding this to his son. "She wants to meet you."

 

Remy fumbled with the sleeve of his sweater. "Do I look bien?"

 

"You look fine, Remy." Jean-Luc caught the footfalls in the corridor and knew their guests had arrived.

 

Remy heard voices and stared at his father, mutely begging him to stay close. The door opened and Marius and Belle entered.

 

Mon Dieu, she's beautiful! Remy had seen pictures of her, but they didn't do her justice. Belladonna was beautiful. He instantly fell in love with her blond, silk-like hair, which was hanging loose over her shoulders, her inviting blue eyes and her luscious lips. Something stirred in his groin and he blushed, realizing he was reacting to her presence. I like her...

 

"Marius, dis is my son Remy LeBeau." Jean-Luc had watched Remy closely and grinned. The boy was obviously attracted to her!

 

Marius shook Jean-Luc's hand and took in the boy's appearance. His spies were already gathering information on the boy, but Jean-Luc was guarding Remy's past well. Seeing the red on black eyes, he was reminded that the boy was a mutant. Remy wasn't his first choice for Belle, but if she liked him he wouldn't stand in her way. "Remy, dis is my daughter Belle."

 

"Pleased to meet you, Remy," Belle said, formally, and extended her hand. She raised a puzzled eyebrow when Remy hesitated to shake it. There was something about the young thief that intrigued her. The red on black eyes were fascinating and the boy was actually blushing... He's cute!

 

When her father had first told her about Remy and an eventual marriage to stop the fighting between the two Guilds, she had been furious, but now she was actually considering going along with her father's plan. Marius would insist that they date for some time, then he would proclaim their engagement and they would marry when they turned eighteen. Her father had planned her future and while she had hated that idea at first, it seemed way more attractive now.

 

"Uh... Bonjour, Belle," Remy stuttered, wishing the ground would open and swallow him. His face had turned crimson and Belle was still holding his trembling hand. He had lowered his eyes and now found the courage to peek at her sky blue eyes. She was smiling! Smiling at him! Weakly, he returned the smile.

 

Belle decided to help the poor boy. "So you're a t'ief? I'm sure you can tell me a lot of interestin' t'ings and mebbe I'll show you how to kill someone usin' only your pinky."

 

Marius and Jean-Luc laughed. Even Remy managed a chuckle. Belle had broken the ice and Jean-Luc was immensely grateful for that. Exchanging a look with Marius he noticed the equally pleased expression on the Assassin's face. They had agreed not to leave Remy and Belle alone and to limit the introduction to only a few minutes to avoid awkward moments.

 

"What? You don' believe I can kill someone wit' my pinky?" Belle smiled.

 

Remy was lost, seeing that smile. He knew that if he would try to say something only nonsense would leave his lips, so he stayed quiet and tried to hold her gaze instead.

 

"We need to leave now." Marius saved Remy from embarrassing himself and guided his daughter toward the doorway. "I'm sure de two of you will see a lot of each other in de future."

 

"Merci for droppin' by." Jean-Luc shook his head; desperately trying to hide his amusement. Remy already looked like a love-sick fool.

 

The door closed and Remy sighed relieved. "I acted like a dumbass." The blush remained as he looked at Jean-Luc. "You t'ink she hates me now?"

 

"Non," Jean-Luc said firmly. "She likes you, mais you're nervous and she knows dat."

 

"Does she also know 'bout... 'bout my life on de streets?" Remy lowered his eyes. "She's way too bien for me!"

 

"Nobody knows you were a hustler," Jean-Luc assured him. "When de times comes, you'll have to decide whether to tell her or not."

 

"I like her..." Remy admitted, shyly.

 

"We could tell," Jean-Luc teased. "Marius was pleased as well. I'm certain he'll contact me to arrange for another meetin'. I'm glad you like her."

 

Remy shuffled his feet and the strange sensation in his stomach slowly faded. He had heard about love at first sight, but had never thought it really existed. Now he knew better.

 

///

 

Later that evening, it was time to turn in for the night and Remy undressed, only leaving his boxers on. It was rather warm tonight and New Orleans was threatened by a heat wave. Although he hated the cold, he disliked the heat as well. Lying down on his bed, he grinned as Napoleon settled down at the foot of his bed. Napoleon had spent every night close to him since he had sit on the tomcat accidentally.

 

Feeling lazy and comfortable, he stretched and kicked off the sheet, feeling hot already. Thinking back on Belle, he smiled, wondering if she really liked him. He could try his empathy on her the next time they met, but that was cheating and he quickly dismissed the thought.

 

What does her hair feel like? Remy couldn't stop thinking about her and when he fell asleep he still saw her face in his mind.

 

///

 

Belle was close, they were talking and he met her sparkling eyes. "You're très belle, Belle."

 

"You're handsome too, Remy." Belle giggled and moved closer. "Have you ever kissed a girl 'fore?"

 

"Non," he admitted honestly, feeling nervous and shy. "You're so beautiful, Belle, can' believe you like me."

 

"Mais I do!" Belle smiled determinedly and brushed his lips. "I like you, Remy LeBeau...

 

Remy's eyes flashed open; he was trembling and a strange sensation pooled in his groin. Looking down at his body, he found he had wiggled out of his boxers during his sleep and his penis... Non!  Shocked, he stared at the clear liquid that left his penis in short spurts. "Non!"

 

His breath hitched and he stared at his come in disbelief. "Non... non!"

 

Jean-Luc, alarmed by Remy's cries, stormed into his son's room, ready to deal with intruders or the boy's recurring nightmares. "Remy?" A quick scan of the room indicated Remy was alone, so his son was probably suffering from nightmares again.

 

"Remy?" Remy was hiding beneath a sheet, which he had quickly pulled up to his chin. "What's wrong, Remy?" Remy was shaking like a leaf beneath the sheet and the red on black eyes glowed with a frightening intensity.

 

When Remy didn't respond, Jean-Luc tried touch, but Remy jerked back. "Remy, lower your shields? Please? Trust me, mon fils." Remy occasionally allowed him into his mind when he had had a nightmare, knowing he could soothe the boy's troubled mind. "Remy?"

 

Remy blinked his eyes, realized Jean-Luc was in the room and began sobbing. He was confused, shaken and felt dirty.

 

"Remy, lower your shields? Den I can help you calm down. Focus on your breathin', petit." Jean-Luc was clueless as to what had upset Remy and waited for his son to reach a decision. Reaching out carefully, he found that Remy had lowered his shields and he focused on his love and affection for the boy. "Everythin's bien, Remy."

 

"Non, it ain' bien!" Remy exploded. "I'm one of dem now!" Using the sheet, he cleaned himself up.

 

The action puzzled Jean-Luc at first, but then everything fell into place. "You had an erotic dream, oui?" Still concentrating on his love for Remy, he managed to calm his son down. "An erotic dream 'bout Belle, mebbe?" Remy nodded his head, but still avoided his eyes. "Dat's perfectly normal, Remy."

 

"Non, it ain'!" Stubbornly, Remy refused to meet Jean-Luc's eyes, feeling ashamed and dirty.

 

Jean-Luc switched on the lamp on the nightstand and took in Remy's flushed appearance. "It's normal to feel confused, Remy. Dis took you by surprise, mais it was bound to happen. You're a man now."

 

"I don' wanna be a man!"

 

What was he missing? Jean-Luc studied Remy's face and recalled his son's words. "What did you mean when you said; 'you're one of dem now'?"

 

"A john," Remy admitted in a shaky tone. "Johns come... I never did..."

 

"You were too young. Surely you know 'bout dis?" Jean-Luc frowned. Didn' anyone tell him what to expect? Den 'gain, who could have told him? De Antiquary didn' care and Philippe... Merde, it's up to me. Henri knew all dis stuff and wasn' upset when he had his first ejaculation. Mon Dieu, how do I explain t'ings to Remy? Wit' his prior experiences dis had to upset him. Remy won' approach dis rationally.

 

"I wanna take a shower, please leave?" Remy fidgeted with the sheet, desperate to wash away his shame.

 

"Bien," Jean-Luc sighed. "Take a shower and den come to my room. We need to talk." Jean-Luc got to his feet and licked his lips. "Remy, it's bien. Please, believe me?"

 

Remy nodded his head, but his set jaw indicated he didn't believe Jean-Luc. "Move it, petit. Take dat shower and den you'll come to my room. Understood?"

 

"Oui." Remy waited until Jean-Luc had left the room, pushed down the dirty sheet and hurried into the bathroom. After turning on the shower, he stepped beneath the warm spray and poured a generous amount of shower gel into his hand. He scrubbed his skin until it was red and then left the shower cabin. After wrapping some towels around his body, he collapsed onto the floor and began rocking slowly. "I'm one of dem now..."

 

///

 

Jean-Luc became impatient and worried when Remy didn't show up and decided to return to his son's room. Finding it empty, he called Remy's name. A soft groan attracted his attention and he stepped into the bathroom, finding Remy sitting on the floor. Sitting on his heels, he cupped Remy's chin in the palm of his hand and forced him to meet his eyes. "Remy?

Remy's draped eyes begged him to leave him alone, but instead Jean-Luc wrapped his arms around the trembling boy, lifted him and carried him to the couch in the corner of Remy's bedroom. "We're gonna talk now," he announced, firmly.

 

"Why is dis happenin' to me?" Remy lifted his eyes and met Jean-Luc's apologetically. "What did I do wrong?"

 

Jean-Luc smiled reassuringly. "Rien, you did nothin' wrong."

 

"Den why..." Remy frowned. "Only johns..."

 

Jean-Luc finally understood what was upsetting Remy. "You're a man now Remy, and your body's goin' through a lot of changes. Dis is normal. Every man has erotic dreams and orgasms. It's normal."

 

Remy stared at Jean-Luc. He couldn't believe his father wasn't equally upset. "Do you have dem?" When Jean-Luc hesitated to answer, Remy nodded his head. "Non, you don' have dem! Mais I have... why am I bein' punished? I tried to be de best I can, mais... it's cause I sucked them off, non? Dis is..."

 

"Remy, stop it." Jean-Luc's voice was remarkably calm and warm. "You aren' bein' punished." He took a deep breath before making his next admission. "I have erotic dreams too, Remy. And oui, sometimes I come in my sleep. It's perfectly healthy." Remy's big eyes almost made him smile, almost, but he didn't, not wanting to ridicule Remy's fears. "Why don' you get dressed and we continue dis in my study?"

 

Only now, Remy realized that he was still naked beneath the towels. His face grew flustered and he quickly nodded his head. Jean-Luc wouldn't let this matter rest and he had better get dressed and join his father in the study.

 

///

 

Fifteen minutes later, Remy shuffled into Jean-Luc's study, feeling awkward and shy. He had slipped into some jeans and a blue sweater, but still felt naked and vulnerable.

 

"Ah, Remy, come sit wit' me." Jean-Luc signaled Remy to sit on the couch next to him.

 

Remy accepted the invitation, but sat down on the other end of the couch, putting distance between them.

 

Jean-Luc cleared his throat, reminding himself to treat this rationally for Remy's sake. "Remy, I assumed you 'ready knew what was happenin' to your body, considerin' your... prior experiences on de streets. I should have known betta."

 

Remy nodded his head, wondering what Jean-Luc really wanted to say.

 

"Let's have dat talk now?" After Remy nodded his head, Jean-Luc continued. He had prepared this speech years ago, but Henri had laughed at him when he had tried to explain this to his son and he had secretly been glad he didn't have to talk to Henri about sex. But now, he had to talk Remy through it.

 

"Chemical substances called hormones produced by de pituitary gland in your brain are responsible for de physical growth in several of the sex organs, among dem de penis and de testes. Dese hormones are also responsible for de changes you can' see. One of dese is de growth of sperm inside de testes. At 'bout de age of 13, sometimes earlier, many sperm have grown inside de testes, and are ready to be released. Your first ejaculation occurred durin' an erotic dream and it's your body's way of lettin' you know you're startin' to mature sexually. It's perfectly normal and natural." Jean-Luc drew in a deep breath, relieved he had managed to get it all out in one go.

 

Remy had listened quietly, not interrupting Jean-Luc, but now he couldn't keep silent any longer and chuckled. "You're blushin' poppa."

 

"Well, oui, it's de first time I had to deliver dis li'l speech... and we're only half way through!"

 

Remy smiled; Jean-Luc had achieved the impossible. Jean-Luc had driven away his panic and fear. "What else do I need to know?"

 

Jean-Luc told himself to get it over with. "It's also a sign dat you're physically able to fat'er children."

 

Remy chuckled again. "Poppa, I ain' havin' sex."

 

"Mais you might in de future..." Suddenly, Jean-Luc felt saddened; Remy had already had sex with men in the past who had paid to abuse the boy's body. This wasn't new territory to Remy, so why did it feel so awkward? "Dere's somethin' else I need to tell you."

 

Remy nodded once, waiting patiently and enjoying seeing Jean-Luc squirm.

 

"It's bien to say non if you don' want to have sex."

 

Jean-Luc's words impacted hard and Remy averted his eyes. When he had lived on the streets he hadn't had a choice and it meant a lot to him that Jean-Luc stressed this fact.

 

"Always remember dat, Remy, you 'ways have de right to say non." Jean-Luc searched Remy's eyes, which never hid a thing. "Don' let anyone force you to have sex, petit."

 

"I understand," Remy whispered, softly.

 

"One more thing..." Jean-Luc caressed Remy's face and was pleased when his son didn't flinch beneath the caress. "You never know who you’ll fall in love wit' and it shouldn' matter whether it's a man or a woman."

 

Remy averted his eyes. "Can never love a man like dat..." He shuddered, remembering the men who had paid him for a blowjob and Hugo's face appeared in his mind, making him relive horrid memories. Never, will never touch a man in dat way! Never 'gain!

 

"Remy? Do you understand dat havin' erotic dreams is normal and healthy?" Jean-Luc hoped his little speech had reassured Remy.

 

"Oui, I t'ink so." At least the panic was gone. "Merci for explainin' dis to me."

 

"I'll ask Mattie to adjust her lesson plan when she gets back and put sex education on it." Jean-Luc ruffled Remy's hair. "Wanna go back to sleep now?"

 

"I don' t'ink I can," Remy admitted, honestly.

 

"Wanna talk 'bout Belle?"

 

Remy nodded his head. "She's beautiful, non?"

 

Jean-Luc agreed. "Oui, she's très belle, mon fils." Looking forward to talking to Remy all night long, he smiled and listened to his son describe Belle's beauty. Remy's got it bad...

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I stole Jean-Luc's speech from http://library.magellanspecialty.com/healthmessages/Sexuality.htm

as I don't know too much about the subject myself. No copyright infringement is intended.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Continue here for the rest of the story.