AUTHOR: SisterWine
RATING: R-NC-17
PAIRING: Logan/Remy- SLASH!
DISCLAIMER: THE X-MEN AND LIKENESSES DO NOT BELONG TO ME. THEY ARE PROPERTY OF MARVEL COMICS AND 20TH CENTURY FOX. DON'T SUE- NO MONEY EXCHANGE! THIS IS MERELY FOR ENTERTAINMENT.
SUMMARY: Immediately after Logan was infused with adamantium skeleton, he is kept in an isolation ward. There, he meets a young man who is also a prisoner, but for another reason. Logan soon finds out just what the boy's story is.
 

PART 1

Voices. Some talking to him, while others talk about him. All in all, it's all the same. They talk about metals and heartbeats and body tolerances. And his is truly remarkable. Completely unique, as he is one of a handful of others who have managed to survive the testing and infusions. Yet, he puzzles his captors. How is it that he shows no signs of the experiment, at all? Save for, his now heavy metal skeleton.

He lay on a cot, attatched to the wall, on the right side of his empty and extremely bright cell. His left arm is draped over his eyes, while the rest of his lean yet strong body lays board straight on the cot. His clothing is white cotton and resembles that of an inmate's aparrel. No shoes or socks. No jewlery, except for a chain with his dog tags, around his neck. Still, he sleeps.

A long row of cells on both sides of an equally long hallway, and his is the one in the middle. Checkered patterns space out the prisoners. Few get lucky enough to have another beside them, while others are across from each other. Logan is lucky enough to not have anyone on either side, or across from him. He isn't exactly a social butterfly. Still, it would be nice for him to have someone to look at, talk to, or even bond with.

One of the doctors and a guard are talking in front of his cell door. Eyeing him as he sleeps. They talk about another program for him, and his tolerance. His regenerative genes come into the discussion, as well. The doctor tells the guard to schedule him for the next day's experiments. Agreeing, they turn and go their separate ways.

Waking and sitting up, he hears a door open and footsteps coming down the hall, dragging something behind them. When they come into view, he sees there are two guards on either side of a young man. He can't see the face, but the body is long and lean, and his hair is shaggy and a beautiful auburn.

They drag him by the arms and stop in front of the cell across from him. One drops the long and thin arm as he opens the cell with a key from his pocket, while the other waits. The guard returns to the kid's arm as they unceremoniously drag him into the cell and drop him, face down, onto the floor. Filing out, they laugh to each other about an earlier incident that had taken place. The key turns in the lock and they leave.

Logan narrows his eyes to examine the sleeping figure across from him. The kid smelled clean, like he had been recently washed. He inhaled again through the strong, thick plastic cell door, with tiny air holes The keyholes to the doors were located on the walls, to the left of each cell.

An hour passed, and a moan from the boy woke Logan. He had been lying on his cot and trying to get
back to sleep. The cell lights had gone off 12, maybe 15 minutes ago, indicating time for sleep. But, Logan found it impossible. Though he really didn't care, he had been worried about the boy across from him. He looked too frail and weak to even remotely survive Logan's type of experiments. Yet, he had somewhat forgotten about the other levels of the building that housed God knows what for other inmates.

The boy stirred again and moaned, almost in pain. With trembling arms, he lifted his upper body off the floor and looked around. Shifting to seat himself on the cool floor, his vision came to focus on something across the way from him and staring at him. Keeping his calm, he flashed a small smile. his back leaned against the side of the metal cot, and his legs had been brought up in front of him.

Seeing the kid's pale face, he had come to realize that the younger man was very beautiful, and completely different from him. The soft and gentle features seemed to carress the kid. And the smile, Logan picked up on that, he wondered what it had been for. Perhaps, it was a smile of relief for the kid to know he wasn't alone, completely.

Logan had sat up when the kid moaned, and made his way, silently, to sit at the end of his cot and wait. He was standing, now, and watching the kid, uneasily. He had picked up a scent that made him wary of the young man, across from him. He paced, now. The scent filtered in, and seemed to strangle Logan. A coppery scent tinged with some sort of drug.

"Don' stare at me, homme. Don' like it." The kid spoke, soft and strained. An accent made it harder for
him to be understood. He yawned and nearly fell flat on his face, as he shifted to brace himself against the metal and stand up.

"You been in this place long?" His gruff voice asserted itself against the plastic door, as he came to stand in front of his own cot.

The kid raised an eyebrow, and then thought for a moment. "A year. Et toi?" His accent had the better of him, but he translated to Logan.

"About five months. Where ya from?" Logan folded his arms and sat on the end of his bed, again.

"Was in N'awlins, den dese people came, t'rew me in a van, an' drugged me. Scusé, why y' here? Haven' seen y' 'round." The kid was seemingly tall and very thin. Yet, even as drugged as he was, he was still able to walk about his dark space with grace.

Logan didn't say anything. He held up his hands, with the palms facing him, and released his shiny metal claws. He shrugged and watched the young man jump and blink at the action. Resheathing his metal attachments, he asked the same question to the boy. He lowered his hands and rubbed absently at the knuckles. God, it hurt. It always did.

The young man's head lowered, and he stared at the floor for a moment. Lifting his gaze back to the figure across from him, he answered. "Matings." The man across from him hadn't really been surprised, yet his expression leaked subtle hints that he hadn't known anything about the other levels prior to meeting the lad.

"What's your name, kid?" Logan asked after a moment.

"Remy. Remy LeBeau. Why, if you have dose t'ings, why don' y' break de glass an' get out?" The kid answered and sat back down on his cot. For as little exercise as that was, he was exhausted. Reaching a hand up to brush his auburn mane with his fingers, he eyed the man across the way.

Logan unsheathed his right hand's claws and scraped the tips against the glass as hard as he could. No dent, not even a scratch had been made. Pulling his claws back in, he shrugged. "Been tryin to get outta here since I got here. Most of us are mutants. Some have been here since they were born. What's your deal?"

The kid scoffed and reached to lift his left pantleg, revealing a somewhat bulky, metal band with a blinking green light on the front. "When dis t'ing isn' on, I charge stuff. Blow t'ings up. Do a few other t'ings too.
Y' got a name, too?" Remy had forgotten to ask him.

"Name's Logan. Why are ya down here? I thought the other levels had their own bunks. Don't tell me they got tired of you fuckin people, now they're gonna do this," Holding up his left hand and releasing the
claws, again. "to ya?" Watching Remy's expression change from a casual shrug to a brief shock, Logan resheathed his claws and sat down on the end of his cot.

"Non. Dey started a fight in de Rec room, an' Remy got into it. Dey blame Remy when it was de guards
dat started it. So, I get moved here." He yawned and eyed his pillow that lay to the left of him. Reaching a hand out, and feeling the softness, he glanced up to Logan who was watching him closely. "Nicer up dere. But, den again, if y' ain' comfy, de sex can take awhile. An' if y' don' like it- dey give y' a shot t' make ya like it. Figure I got at leas' 4 pups because o' de drugs."

Logan cleared his throat. "How old are ya?"

"Twenty-six." He yawned again and laid down on his back, on the cot. "Sil vouz plait, cher. We finish dis
in de mornin, no?"

"Yea." Logan himself yawned and stood up to stretch. He walked around to the side of the bed and laid himself down on his left side, curling his left arm under the pillow and closing his eyes. He fell asleep almost instantly, but dreamt strange dreams about his new acquaintance.

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

When morning came, the kid was gone from his cell and the door was open. Logan inhaled and wondered where they had taken the kid this early in the morning. He listened as a distant door, down the hall to his right, had opened and someone or ones were comnig down the hall. He watched as two guards were holding the unconscious boy up, as an arm had been draped across the shoulders of each guard. Sitting on the side of his cot, he watched the two place the kid on his cot and then leave the still darkened cell and close the door.

A few moments later, the other cell lights flickered on, all except Remy's. The kid didn't twitch or stir for the longest time. Doctors came and went, few actually going into the tiny cell and examining the unconscious boy. They took notes and spoke his name in soft voices, but he did not stir. It hadn't bothered the doctors that the boy was sleeping so soundly that he either hadn't heard them call his name or feel them examine his body, or he hadn't cared in the first place.

By evening time, a meal was brought to the boy's cell and left on the floor, in a plate. Scrambled eggs, a few slices of ham, and a small cup of assorted fruit. A glass of milk was also left beside the plate. When the door was shut again, the boy rolled over onto his left side and tiredly opened his eyes to stare at the food in the middle of the floor.

Remy sighed and sat up to look around. The lights were still off but flickered on after a moment. Logan was watching him again and showing concern as he leaned against the left wall of his cell and crossed his arms in front of him. Looking back to the plate, he slid off of the cot and sat on the floor. He picked up his plate and brought his knees up to plant his feet on the cool floor, propping him up in a sitting position so that he wouldn't slide. Remy picked at his food with his fingers, since he didn't have a fork or spoon, but eventually ate. Setting the plate down and retrieving the glass of milk, he drank before placing the glass on the plate and sliding them over to the door of the cell to be taken.

"You okay, kid?" Logan spoke to him. His tone was blended with bits of worry and curiousness and relief that the kid was alive. He stared at Remy and hadn't moved from his position against the wall.

Remy nodded and panted after failed attempts to stand up, or even move back to his cot. "Early morn fuckin takes 'lot outta me. Dey tryin t' kill Remy wit' dis shit." Resting his head against the cot, he turned to look at Logan and smiled.

"Fun job." Logan said sarcastically. "Why are they so eager to have rugrats. The outside is tryin to get rid
o' us, and these guys are settin up back-ups?" He looked the boy over and could tell he must have had a hard workout from whatever they had made him do. He had thought his seemingly laidback day was hectic. A shave/shower and tests were nothing compared to what Remy had to go through.

Remy sighed and thought of how to explain it to his best knowledge. "Dey breed us to filter out de mutant gene, an' figure why we are dis. Mos' women I do are either homeless, whores, or runaways dat were caught. Some human, some no. T'day was different. Af'er dey gave Remy 3 shots, dey pair him wit' a man." Clearing his throat and grimacing in disgust with himself, he continued. "Dey gettin sick in deir experiments."

Logan didn't say anything. He merely observed the boy and listened to faint whimpers of pain as the boy shifted positions, and smelled a coppery scent of blood that had been clearly covered up by soap. Seeing the boy's pained expression as he had finally been able to pick himself up off the floor and back onto his cot, he asked. "He did you, didn't he?"

"Oui." Remy nodded as he lay back down on the cot.

So that was why he had so many doctors examine him. Logan had guessed it had been the first time the
kid had even done another man. Logan had done a man before, several times, in fact. The activity hadn't seemed so out of the ordinary for him, yet he remembered his first time. He could empathize with the kid on the pain.

Remy shifted again to lie on his stomach and stare at Logan in an odd tone. He'd felt Logan's understanding, eventhough he hadn't said anything about it. "Y' been up dere, homme?" He asked, tiredly.

Logan shook his head and walked back to his cot. "Nope. Just been in that spot." He sniffed again. "You aint into guys, are ya, kid?"

"No guards, cher." Remy winced and whimpered as he shifted again. "Remy don' mind fuckin, but he ain' too crazy 'bout havin a pup, himself." He yawned again and laid his head down on the pillow, facing his right. Sleep felt good. It had taken away most of the hurt and throbbing.

Forgetting about sleep, Logan decided to keep watch over the boy and make sure he was okay. He wondered which of the guards the boy was paired with, and why had it taken 3 shots to subdue him.
Three had seemed too many due to the boy's thin form. And why was he so tired? Logan figured there was more to the story than the boy had told, but felt it wasn't his place to push an embarrassing topic. So, he paced his cell and watched the boy closely.

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

When morning came, a doctor came to stand in front of Remy's cell. He nodded to the guard, at the end of the hall to his right, to open the door. The doctor stepped in and examined the still sleeping youth. Again,
he wrote things down on the pad of paper he carried with him. Rolling Remy over to lie on his back, he unzipped the white jumper the boy was wearing, and slipped it off of him, completely.

Logan observed.

Thermometers were inserted into the kid. One for his mouth, and the other for a different place. Stethiscopes were used to listen to the boy's chest and stomach. Again, notes were written down. A
gloved hand pushed fingers into places Remy would have objected to, had he been awake. Removing the hand and then the glove and placing it in a clear bag, he smiled to himself as he dressed Remy and left the cell.

As the doctor stood in the hallway, he nodded to the guard again, to shut the door and then turned to look at Logan. "He should wake up soon. Tell him not to move around so much. He might damage the tissue." He smiled at Logan and walked back to the guard at the door.

Logan could hear the whispered talkings of the doctor to the guard as the man was told to keep watch over the auburn haired Cajun and informed to let the doctor know as soon as he woke up. Logan again wondered what was going on. Replacing his eyes on the slowly moving form, he focused his eyes and ears to every movement the kid made.

Hours passed and Remy had stirred. Opening his eyes and rolling onto his left side, he sat up. He groaned
in pain and stood up as quickly as he could to avoid more discomfort. He looked around and rubbed his eyes. Looking across the way, he saw Logan standing at the back of his cell, leaning against the wall with his eyes fixed on the boy. Remy rubbed his stomach, absently and walked up to the glass.

Logan's light was on, but Remy's cell remained dark. "You okay, kid?"

Remy nodded.

"Doc said not to move around so much." Logan pushed himself off of the wall and came closer. "Mind if I ask what they did to ya?"

Cringing, Remy sighed and explained. "Dey implanted me wit' ...... women's t'ings. Uncomfortable. Did dat las' week, but only try it yes'erday. Remy didn' exactly lay down an' spread his legs so nicely."

"So, they forced ya...?"

"Oui."

A few minutes passed and a guard came to check on Remy. Both Remy and Logan stared at the young guard before he turned and walked back down the hall. Moments later, his light flickered on and another doctor came to stand at Remy's door. The door opened and Remy was asked to follow the man. To which he did, after refusing a few times.

Logan was left again, to wonder what was to happen to the young man. He hadn't taken to anyone else so quickly, let alone even bothered to care like he did with Remy. Yet, something told him to stay close to the young man. All he could do now, was wait for him to come back. But first, he needed to rest. He yawned and let himself be taken by sleep as he laid down on his cot. He lay on his right side and curled his right arm under his pillow. Again, his dreams were that of questions about his new friend. Jumbled into bits of wonder and explanations.
 

Continue..........