and is it getting harder to pretend [ongoing]

[bangyoudead.livejournal.com]

When; Today!
Rating; PG-13 ish probably.
Characters; Remy LeBeau (bangyoudead), Hiro Nakamura (ibrokehistory), Mohinder Suresh (orderonto), Claire Bennet (adamantined), and Logan (weaponxanimal)
Summary; Remy wakes up from his coma to discover he's in the care of his favorite person ever! At least these whacky kids are around to keep him from exploding. Right? :D?
Log;

When his brain stops the frenzied action of deeply abnormal REM sleep, he feels as if he's sucked in a breath for the first time in years. His lungs ache and burn, but he's not suffocating. His head feels like it's going to split open but it's not a headache. Everything hurts, but it's all hurting in the wrong way.

For a while he just lays there, oblivious to the world around him. He tries to think of something, but it's just static.

He wants to see Rogue Anna! but he doesn't know where she is. Red-on-black eyes open, and for some reason, he's not surprised she isn't there.

If you love me, you'll stay away.

His chest seizes up at the thought, which is more painful than anything he's experienced thus far. Muscles and joints stiff, he sits up, expression blank. This isn't the X-Mansion. But it's not like he was expecting to be there anyway. Was he? The details are fuzzy. His thoughts are all there but he can't focus on them, in a fog. He tries to go through the list of potential locations but his mind is like a waterfall and he's just too slow to grasp anything. So instead, he stands up, uneasy and unsteady, and makes his way through the strange apartment.

Comments

[ibrokehistory]

It probably isn't accurate to say that Hiro can't grasp the sense of gravity when dealing with a coma patient, even if his notable absence during Remy's awakening suggests otherwise. He has a good excuse, however, taking breaks to play World of Warcraft just because he'll go nuts if he has to talk (and touch, apparently) someone lying on his back every waking hour of his day. He perks up a little after the gaming, a fresh mug of coffee (mostly milk and sugar, really) in his hand as he starts heading back to Molly's bedroom.

Only to find that "Molly" isn't there.

Eyes wide, he starts scampering through the apartment.

"Kidnap... kidnap... MOHINDER, REMY IS GONE!"

Is Mohinder even in the apartment?

[bangyoudead.livejournal.com]

Some time has passed. Remy's managed to take a shower, and is presently pulling a carton of orange juice out of this person's fridge. In the warm water, he began to put things together, though it's still mostly a blur. He was with Xavier. Wasn't he?

If he was with Xavier, then why does he feel like the last person he saw was a brunette with hazel-green eyes? And why wasn't it Rogue?

He has no idea. He hears someone shout his name, but they sound more panicked than angry, so he doesn't react, just pulls open the cartoon and drinks straight from it, leaning back slightly to look through the doorway with an expression of mild curiosity on his face.

[ibrokehistory]

Hiro flails, arms waving around and it's a good thing that he's already set his mug down on Molly's desk, otherwise there'd be splatters of coffee stains all over the walls. This is bad bad bad and he doesn't know nearly enough about this mysterious coma patient to really say, but in movies, coma patients only get kidnapped if they have something of great importance hiding away in their brains.

This office worker doesn't spend nearly enough time living in reality.

But fortunately as he's making another one of his 360 turns on that square foot of carpet—almost as though he's sure that Remy can't be that far yet, couldn't have really left the room and Hiro will see if he just looks hard enough—he spots a familiar face looking his way.

"AH!" Hiro yells, pointing at Remy.

Wait, that probably looks pretty accusatory. Screwing up his face, Hiro pauses before trying again.

"...you are up so early? Is not even... Claire's shift yet."

Most coma patients take... years, right?

[bangyoudead.livejournal.com]

Remy watches this guy flail around, trying to place where he knows him, if he does at all. Memories of the City are starting to come back into focus, but it's like his mind is trying to ease him into something else entirely. Still only wearing a pair of pajama bottoms, he leans on the open door of the refrigerator and gives Hiro a wry look.

"Do I know you?"

[ibrokehistory]

Amnesia? Is amnesia a common side effect of coma patients? Hiro thought that that was... concussions, right? But he supposes that maybe Remy's had a little of each.

Or maybe Hiro himself isn't that memorable, but... most of the City thinks otherwise, right?

"My name is Hiro Nakamura..." he replies, slowly, as though hoping that'll trigger something.

[bangyoudead.livejournal.com]

Remy hasn't actually met Hiro before, so whether he remembers the City or not is a moot point - but apparently that's gotten lost in translation somewhere.

He feels like he's somewhere he's not supposed to be. He feels like, if he starts to remember fully, he's going to want to punch someone in the face. But he know he doesn't have amnesia, because he can think of Rogue, and that's really all that matters, ultimately, isn't it?

He tries to think of something else and there's a twisted memory of adamantium claws sliding into his abdomen.

Okay, next.

"Right. You got anything to eat in here?" he ducks back down to dig through the fridge, pulling out a tupperware container of he-doesn't-care-what, and then looks back up at Hiro. "Which drawer for silverware, homme?"

[ibrokehistory]

When you've read nothing but picture books (because Mohinder rightly guessed that any more text, and Hiro would be utterly clueless) and played DDR for a person for a few days, you start to feel like you know them.

So yes, they haven't really met before. But Hiro doesn't know any better. At least right now, while he's wallowing knee-deep in shock.

He points, wordlessly, to the drawer next to the dishwasher, when prompted for silverware.

"Mohinder's curry is berry spicy," he warns Remy.

[bangyoudead.livejournal.com]

He turns around to get a fork out of the specified drawer, popping the top off the container and digging in right there, leaning against the counter. He's been unconscious for days, and no amount of IV-drip or feeding tubes can keep a mutant with enhanced bio-mechanics and metabolism from being starving when he wakes up from a coma.

He remembers the first time he was in one - it must have been for much longer than this, for how badly he was out of it, then. He remembers what happened when he'd let Emma Frost fuck around in his head on the astral plane.

At Hiro's remark about spicy food, he gives the shorter man a kind of annoyed but tolerant look, as if to say, I'm Cajun, are you serious? before continuing to stuff his face.

Then it registers.

"Mohinder?"

[ibrokehistory]

Oookay, Hiro's not sure what that look was for, and even if he did, average Japanese office worker is not that familiar with Cajun cuisine. He ponders for a while. Is Remy asking for more food?

He trots on over to the iron waffle, pulling it out and some of the materials for batter, just in case. Should be better than cold curry, anyway.

"Yes, Mohinder," Hiro nods. "He is the man that find you when you lie down on floor." At this, Hiro spreads his arms out, perhaps miming what he imagines it could look like, mouth gaping and face contorted into some weird... semblance of pain, ow, imagine a floor here. "And he bring you up here because you are in coma, so he tell me and Claire to read to you, help wake your mind up somehow. Claire should be coming soon, she make most of our food lately. But I can make you waffles first. You look... berry hungry."

[bangyoudead.livejournal.com]

And so this is why he feels like he'd be pissed off. He is starting to get pissed off. He immediately looks down at his arms, wondering what else besides an IV had been there. Did that fucking quack do anything to him while he was out?

Remy doesn't show anything, though. He's very good at keeping his cool.

For now.

"Claire, huh? De blonde fille, no? An' you de time traveler de Doc says he lives with?" He's halfway through the curry now, barely tasting it. Waffles sounds good. "Yeah I am. How long was I out?"

[ibrokehistory]

Hiro doesn't know why the man's looking at his arms, and he's not really going to question it either. Maybe it itches because of the IV. Mohinder was kind of freaking out when he jabbed it in.

"Yes, yes!" Hiro nods, pleased that some of Remy's memory is coming back— or, wait, oh. His ears turn a little red as he realizes, even though he's spent the past week with Remy, Remy hasn't really spent the past week with him.

Awkward.

"Claire is blonde... cheerleader, you know? And yes, I am the time traveler! I bend space and time!" Yeah, redundant, it's okay. Hiro starts mixing the batter, tilting his head as he thinks. "I think it has been... five days, now? I read many books to you."

[bangyoudead.livejournal.com]

"I don't got amnesia, man," he says, nearly chuckling, "I'm jus' disoriented."

Curry has been vanquished, so he sticks the container in the sink and investigates the potential of getting a glass of water. Look, as far as he's concerned, this isn't a hospital, so he's got no reason to be here, so Suresh gets to pay a nutrient tax.

Why is he here? What he hell happened? Hiro didn't say... just found him somewhere... green eyes. But not Rogue's. A woman - not quite an argument. About...

Wanda Maximoff.

Oh, well. That explains it.

It says something about the way Remy lives that his reaction is so mild. Really, he's lucky not to be a teacup. He drinks his water and frowns slightly to himself, trying to thread the situation together in his mind. Okay, backtrack.

Xavier. Rogue. Sinister. Right? Was that it? Was he there? Was.. yes. He had to have been. He remembers Mystique. I hate that bitch. Sidetracked, he thinks about Rogue, waking from her own coma and shunning him.

But you deserved it, he tells himself. Didn't he? He always did, somehow. It's dark and cold on the edges of his consciousness, and he leaves it be for now.

"You're quite de trooper, man."

[ibrokehistory]

Now that the batter has been poured into the iron, Hiro has a couple of minutes, and he tries to think of what Mohinder might have Remy do. Uhhh. Oh right. Dehydration is always a bad thing, right? Except Remy seems to be on top of that. Uhhh... sugar?

"I did not know," he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. "I think maybe hit to head make you forget things. You know, when you fall down. But it wasn't hard, look after you—Mohinder just say I need to make noise."

He pauses, reaching up into the cupboards and pulling out two glasses.

"You want something else to drink? Juice? ...iced tea?" Tea is usually a must in this apartment.

Hiro's face screws up a little as he imagines five days without having brushed one's teeth. Maaaybe there are awkward tastes that he wants to get out of his mouth that haven't been burned away by the curry yet.

PART TWO

[adamantined]

She'd managed to track down Logan with less problem than she'd expected, considering where he lived. Still running on nervous, bottled energy, Claire had delivered whatever coded message Remy had given her, and then explained everything in a nervous chatter anyway.

It didn't help matters that the last time she had spoken to Logan, it had been rather terse and it had been about Mohinder, but she's not thinking about that as she leads him to where Hiro was sure he'd dropped Remy. Claire isn't sure what they're going to find or do outside of dragging Remy out of the water, but Claire knows they can't leave Remy floating in the water somewhere.

She tries to make conversation in her head the whole way there, but eventually just gives up and keeps quiet, waiting to be spoken to.

[weaponxanimal.livejournal.com]

Logan isn't thinking about Claire and the talk about Mohinder. For now he's trying to figure out how best to level out the table. Gunner thought it would be fun to chew on the table legs. That dog...

"llo, Claire." He doesn't need to look away to know it is her. Blame that special shampoo or whatever kind of smell that she's got. Something feminine and floral. But there's something else. Logan looks over his shoulder. There's a heaviness in the air.

Bad news.

[adamantined]

Claire nods and digs her hands into her pockets. The sweater she's had on all day is warm enough, but the cold air still manages to get through. It doesn't matter to her - it's not like she'll get sick or anything - and she keeps one eye on the shoreline ahead and one eye on Logan, her head doing a weird sort of ping-pong back and forth.

"Remy was," she begins, but pauses, soft sand crunching under her soft black boots. "I think he was about to explode." It comes out neatly, calm. Right now she thinks it's remarkable and tries to press on as nonchalantly. "Hiro said he dropped him somewhere over here. You're taller. Can you see anything?"

She wonders if maybe they should just stand on opposite ends and start yelling.

[bangyoudead.livejournal.com]

Out in the water, a brown-haired head breaks the surface, coughing. Remy spits up water and gasps, disoriented. He was pretty sure he was going to drown, for a bit.

For a few minutes he just floats, exhausted. It's normal for him to need to burn off his energy - exercise or just blowing shit up - but that's a level of uncontrolled excess he's not experienced since he was a teenager. Since before the operation.

He remembers, now. Everything.

It takes some time for him to decide to swim toward the shoreline. The idea of just slipping back in underneath the water is a seductive one. It hurts, and he's ashamed. He's too tired to be angry. He looks ahead of him and he sees two familiar figures, and so he does what he always does, and sucks it up, raising one arm to waive and let them know he's okay.

[weaponxanimal.livejournal.com]

"Dropped him?" Explode is another word he could have repeated. One thing at a time to fuss over. As long as he's know that bayou rat he's never exploded himself. Logan follows Claire's line of sight out the window and... "Oh."

Not exactly a man to rush about, but there's speed in his movements as he drops his tools and grabs whatever can be used as emergency clothes to head out for the water.

"How long ago was he dropped?"

[adamantined]

"I don't know for sure," she says, keeping her eyes peeled, walking briskly with her hands still in her pockets. "Hiro teleported him out of the apartment and then he teleported back, and then I came to find you, like Remy asked."

As she turns her head to glance back out toward open water, Claire has to do a double take to confirm what it is that she's looking at. He's not far away and it's definitely Remy, and she points out what she's looking at, what she sees, to Logan before starting to move a little quicker, not necessarily jogging but hardly walking either. The whole way there, Claire wishes that she had a coat to pull off and give to him, even if it was pink. There's no way in hell that water is remotely warm.

When she reaches Remy, she's not out of breath but she is a little short of it, but she still manages to shake her head and say, after a moment. "Hi. You're up."

[bangyoudead.livejournal.com]

Remy's feet finally hit sand underwater and he half-stumbles half-floats until he's in hip-deep water and lets himself plunk down on his knees right there, shallow waves crashing over his shoulders.

He gives Claire a shaky laugh. "Well now fille I know you were starin' but this is a bit much, no?"

He hasn't stepped out of the water yet because, alas, naked. It's a side-effect of having had all your bio-kinetic energy explode out of you: burned clothes.

[weaponxanimal.livejournal.com]

"Mornin'." Even though it is clearly not. Logan has a spare flannel shirt and a pair of boxer shorts. That towel he grabbed wasn't as big as he thought it was. Just a dish towel. Great. Ah well, it's enough over all to keep the man decent.

All that walking in the waves was getting his jeans soaked. Best get the Cajun out of the water.

"Claire, you mind turning a round a bit?"

[adamantined]

Apparently this is make Claire turn eight shades of red day, and she has to try very, very hard not to shove Remy under the water or throw sand at him. Because that's just not fair.

(Alternately, joking usually means people are alright, so she's at least pleased about that. But still. Sand. Remy's eyes. It's a possibility that she's not ignoring.)

Her face is a bit red again when she turns around with her arms crossed and sets herself in a stance that clearly belies how annoyed she must be. And she can't even say anything sarcastic or scathing, because he's just almost (or possible has) exploded and it's December and he's in the ocean with no clothes on.

"That water must be pretty cold," she eventually says, and even though she hasn't seen anything like that, it's still a little bit vindicating.

[bangyoudead.livejournal.com]

He laughs, but it's tired, and his voice is hoarse. Sorry, Claire, you're never going to live that bit down. He's flattered, really, but he likes the mature ladies.

"Mornin'," he greets Logan, and manages to get himself into what clothes there are to spare, even if he gets them soaked in the process. He can deal with the cold.

Out of the water, he looks pretty hilarious - hair plastered against his head and in one of Logan's lumberjack shirts and some boxers. Wow. Classy.

"Yeah, could be worse, though."

[weaponxanimal.livejournal.com]

"Easily." Boy, he does look like a joke. "Even when you're out of it, you manage to bug me." Not that he's saying it's a bad thing or a good thing. If it brings more small humiliation like this? Nice change.

"All clear, Claire."

I guess that leaves them to head back tot he house. At least there it is warmer with dried clothes.

[adamantined]

Claire turns around, face decidedly no shades of red, though she's still a tiny bit miffed and embarrassed and is forcing herself to look Remy directly in the eye as if to prove a point. It's a little bit difficult to keep a straight face with his hair like that and just... the entire situation in itself, but she pulls it off with only the tiniest of smiles before she nods, digging her cold fingers into her pockets again.

She figures she's most useful where she can make something warm, because she's good at that, and it's a bad idea to keep standing on the windy shore, freezing, though not to death funnily enough, when there are warmer places in the world. "We should get inside," she says, before turning around. There's the unspoken implication that, if they're both nice to her, she'll make Mexican hot chocolate.