tampered | and is it getting harder to pretend [ongoing]

and is it getting harder to pretend [ongoing]

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.

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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?

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.

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?

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?"

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.

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?"

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.

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?"

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."

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?"

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."

"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."

Edited 2008-12-05 23:43 (UTC)

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.

Don't worry, Hiro, he hit the shower already while you were playing WoW. Taken care of.

"Just water's okay," he says. He knows the drill. Probably too well. He frowns again and refills his glass. He's starting to get a headache. He cracks the knuckles of one hand and rolls his shoulders, aching. He needs to get out and char off and run, or something. Hit the gym big time. He feels like shit.

Remy abandons his water glass with a half-interested noise and goes back to the room he'd woken up in - seriously what the fuck, Suresh, this is a little girl's room, you creep - and finds his clothes. Pocket pocket CIGARETTES. Fuck yes. He returns to the kitchen in the process of shaking one out.

"How those waffles comin, homme?"

Hiro tilts his head after Remy as the man heads back into Molly's room, shrugs, and then pulls out the first waffle, quickly pouring out the batter for a second. The first should probably tide Remy over for all of... well, a minute or so, Hiro imagines.

"Is ready! I have strawberry and whip cream in refrigerator if you like," Hiro announces with a smile, looking up... and gaze falling on Remy's cigarettes, causing his expression to follow suit.

"Ah... cigarette smoke make Mohinder cough berry much," he tentatively notes, scratching is head. "Maybe is best if we take waffle and I can tereport us somewhere else? Mohinder had strange conversation with your friend about smoking."

Remy lights the cigarette anyway, simply by pressing the tip of his index finger to the end of it. There is no way in hell he's not having a cigarette (or ten) right now. Five days with no nicotine, are you serious?

"No offense, bo, but teleportin' makes me uneasy as it is an' I already feel like shit." He takes a drag and exhales. "Doc can suck it up." Pause. "My friend? Logan?"

Hiro sighs.

"Ah, well, is not my problem," he shrugs, pulling a second waffle out of the iron, pouring in a third, and gaping slightly at the way Remy can just light the cigarette up like that. "Is just that Mohinder has been berry angry lately. He is unhappy with me, his other friends... even Claire, almost. So I try not to make him more angry."

He grabs strawberries and whipped cream from the fridge, a fresh fork and knife. Sets everything in front of Remy while getting another plate for additional waffles, should Remy need. This man, he's a waffle making machine now, has had the practice.

"And yes, I think his name is Logan? Also smoke. And scare Mohinder berry much."

Cigarettes. Breakfast. He could do with some coffee, but he doesn't think the caffeine is in his best interest. Strawberries are a good idea, though. Remy has an amazing talent of eating in a whirlwind without actually being a slob - it's almost an art form.

"Yeah, well," he says, crushing his cigarette out on the side of his plate, "he seems like a pretty irritable guy. Not that I ain't thankful for de care an' all, but de fact I'm not at a hospital is a bit concernin'." Speaking of, he's going to kick Logan's ass for not demanding he be moved. Creepy motherfucker.

Remy shrugs. "Logan's a scary guy." But he doesn't sound scared at all, more like grudgingly affectionate. Again he thinks about the shadow memories just behind his current thoughts. If Wolverine ran you through, how did you survive? He eats more pancakes.

"Mmm... he try to explain that to me. Say that moving coma patient is bad, and I don't think he trust people at hospital? Is like he need to prove that he's a good doctor or something," Hiro ponders, doling out more batter for the iron and ripping off part of a reserve waffle and popping the piece in his mouth.

He then raises an eyebrow, and a hand, we come in peace?

"Logan is scary? But... he is your friend, yes? He say that he is your friend. Come here to check up on you a lot."

Subtlety is sometimes lost on Hiro.

Subtlety is sometimes lost on Hiro, which is why Claire Bennet makes a decent distraction and tension breaker with hot chocolate and pastries from the little shop across the street. She's been at the zoo all day with Zach, her hair a mess and her face still pink from the cold, and as soon as she gets the door open to Mohinder's apartment - which honestly takes some decisiveness and dedication, because she is still furious at him for his behavior yesterday - she actually pauses in the doorway when she hears voices coming from the kitchen and smells food that isn't burning. And cigarette smoke.

Leading herself through the apartment and into the kitchen, Claire catches the last leg of the conversation and pokes her head around the door, blonde ponytail swinging. "Logan isn't scary. Maybe if you don't like a lot of hair," she offers, grinning broadly as she steps around the doorframe, cardboard carrier in one hand and swinging plastic bag in the other.

There's a moment of hesitation where Claire looks as if she might cross the room and hug Remy, but instead she just hugs Hiro and sets her things down and keeps grinning and says, "You're up."

Mohinder could have moved him from where he collapsed to a hospital, or one of the clinics, instead of to his apartment. Did he think Remy would be fine with it, knowing his aversion to scientists? Did he think he'd wake up and be thrilled? Who knows. He just chuckles lightly at Hiro's comments about Logan, and then looks up at the new addition to the apartment.

He remembers Claire. The little girl with the healing factor. He grins when he sees her. "Hey, fille. I'm up."

He gets it - he knows but he shouldn't know, so they can't know he knows. Right? Something like that.

"Claire!" Hiro exclaims, returning the hug tightly and oh how glad he is to see her, between Mohinder's rage and the cigarette smoke and Claire, there is a man in the apartment whose accent is so heavy that the language barrier is almost becoming an issue. He has no idea what homme and fille really mean, and he hopes that they're not insults. "Is good to see you. Remy woke up."

Obvious statements are good for filling up the silence.

"And I have made waffle, so you can have some... but I see that you have bring other food," he smiles, pulling back and then looking at Remy again. Well, at least these two know each other.

He ponders going to check on the ducks.

But he'll wait a little longer.

She's almost got 'How are you feeling?' out of her mouth but Hiro has basically tackled her and crushed the breath out of her at the same time, so her capacity for words is somewhat lacking until she is able to regain her balance. "Yeah, I can see that," she points out, in response to Hiro, disentangling herself after a minute and tugging on her hair. "Sorry, I didn't know you were gonna make anything, considering, er..."

Claire trails off, not really wanting to bring up Mohinder even if it's only to talk about his food. It doesn't help that she knows Remy doesn't exactly think the absolute best of him. Instead, she shakes her head, smiles, and sit down. "Sorry about the interesting wake up call. I bet a nine-year-old's room wasn't really what you were expecting." Hiro probably wasn't what he'd been expecting either, but most people, on average, don't expect Hiro.

She does note, however, that he's apparently had a shower and doesn't look like grungy coma patient. Claire notes this. Claire notes this a lot and eats a pastry to stop herself from noting this again. At least it's not as bad as it was when she'd seen Dean. "You look like you made yourself at home, though," she eventually says, still sticking close to Hiro: brothers in arms.

Remy gets out another cigarette and raises his eyebrows when he meets Claire's eyes. Yeah, interesting. He's not going to get into a conversation about Suresh in front of Hiro, whom he doesn't know. He lights it, the same way, out of habit. His brain hasn't quite caught up with the rest of him yet.

"Well I figure what's de point o'not bein' in a hospital if you ain't lettin' me eat an' smoke, ah?" This is to imply that there had better not been another point. Or our dear doctor friend is going to end up in a world of hurt. He might be in one already, who knows.

He can't help but grin at her, though. Hi, jailbait. Doesn't mean she can't look, right?

Hiro looks at Claire.

Looks at Remy.

Looks at Claire again.

And then raises a hand to block Claire's eyes before looking back at Remy.

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and is it getting harder to pretend [ongoing]

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