RATING: NC-17
WARNINGS: SLASH, CONTAINS RAPE AND MURDER!
DISCLAIMER: X-Men belong solely to Marvel Comics and all the designers and creators therein. Me? I'm just amusing
myself in innocent musings and twisted thoughts. Have a nice day!
SUMMARY: Logan is being haunted in his dreams by a voice and a touch. It feels so real but, it's just a dream with a created presence, or is it?
AUTHOR: SISTERWINE
 

Logan yawned and continued down the hall, to the kitchen. He'd overslept by two whole hours. It was now 8 AM and everyone was up and either at school or in the Danger Room training for the latest Sentinnel attacks. He yawned again and flinched at the light in the kitchen. Sun light was hard on tired eyes. Retrieving his shades from the left shirt pocket of his typical yellow and black plaid flannel, he put them on and poured himself a cup of cold coffee.

"Logan, you're up! We thought you were gonna sleep all day. You feelin okay?" The voice belonging to Rogue, slowly crept into his ears.

"Just fine. Why didn't anybody wake me?" He didn't look up. He placed the cup in the small microwave and set the timer. Pushing the 'START' button, he finally turned around to see her staring at him as if he had been asleep for a week. He yawned again and waited for the microwave to beep in finishing. Taking his cup out, he grabbed the day's paper and sat down at the table to read it.

"We tried. But, you kept swattin us away and laughin at somethin. So, we decided to let you sleep and wake up for yourself. Didya meet that good of a girl last night, Shugah?" Rogue came to sit down across from him.

"Hmm."

She looked at her watch before getting up and patting Logan on the shoulder. "I'll catch ya later. Storm and I are goin
shoppin." With that, she left the kitchen and headed upstairs to change from her uniform, into her "Shoppin' Clothes" as she called them.

Logan sat there in silence for a long while, drinking his coffee and reading the paper. His mind began to drift back to last night's dream. The strange voice, tingling carresses, innocent laughter. As lips tapped his cheek, he shook himself back to sitting at
the kitchen table with his coffee cup in hand.

************************

A few hours later, Logan sat on the cool grey floor of the huge garage, working on his prized possession; his motorcycle. Adjusting this, polishing that, grinning to himself in approval. He liked it to be in top condition and shine. Standing up and strattling the seat, he gripped the handle bars and let his mind wander as he absently turned it on and revved it up. He closed
his eyes to listen to the sound and feel a familiar touch as arms wrapped around his waist and a cheek pressed against his shoulder.

"Go fast, monsieur." The voice told, him as a hand slithered down his waist and cupped his semi-aroused manhood. It was a
male voice. Rich and sultry in accent and texture. "Take me to the hill. Make love to me, mon couer. Yo body drive me crazy, cher." A gentle squeeze as the speed increased and the voice behind him purred in excitement.

"Logan." Jean's voice brought him out of his musings.

"Somethin I can do for you, Red?" He shut the engine off and stared at her calmly.

Jean looked at him in casual concern. "Are you allright? You missed dinner."

"I'm fine, Jean. Just been tired lately. S'all."

Logan got up off the bike and headed for the garage door. He stopped when Jean again spoke up.

"This isn't like you. Skipping meals, always yawning and dozing off, going to bed early and then getting up late. Logan, if something's the matter, Hank and I will work with you to help you." She had turned her body to face him. Her arms held eachother and her expression gave off a confused fashion. She chewed her lower lip and waited for his reassurance in the
matter.

"I'll be fine, Jeanie. Just need some sleep. See ya at breakfast." He smiled and walked back to the house.

**********************

Heading upstairs to his bedroom, he smiled to himself at the sultry laughter in his ears and urgings to walk faster. As he
reached his bedroom door, he felt himself being pulled in and pushed down onto the bed. The door closing behind him. Not bothering to turn on the light or remove his clothing. He couldn't stop his eyes from closing, or the gentle brushings of skin to skin.

He lay on his back, in the middle of the huge queen sized bed. His eyes stared at the ceiling of his lightless room, his arms lay spread out to either side of him in the shape of a T. He smiled at the feel of his pants being undone and a hand being slid in to remove his now hard manhood. Gasping as lips and a warm tongue enveloped him in its mouth. A warm and soft hand
caressed his tight balls and gave a gentle squeeze. He sighed as the mouth worked him to a frenzy. Logan felt himself give way to release. He grunted and smiled as the mouth moaned in approval.

"Monsieur, you taste so tres bien. I could taste you forever. Je t'aime, mon amour. I make you feel magnifique, non?" The
voice had spoken to him, just out of his view. Logan was unable to see the voice that had been taunting him and making love
to him in his dreams. But, he felt real. The hands, the mouth, the skin and hair that teased him. They all felt real.

"Yes, you do. Let me see you, what you look like. I wanna see who I'm pleasin." Logan said softly. He tried to sit up, but a
hand on his chest had haulted him and lightly pressed him to the bed.

"I show you while we make love, monsieur. I please you so much, you'll see." The voice cooed as it filled it's mouth with saliva and then began to work the saliva all over Logan's extremely erect manhood. The mouth stopped and moved away from him. It was replaced with a tight entrance that drove itself down around Logan. A warm, tight feeling that was sliding up and down all around him. The body of the tight warmth moved and a smooth, childlike face loomed above Logan. Eventhough, the light was
off, Logan could faintly see the sparkling soft auburn hair that hung down around the boy's soft face. Thin limbs sprawled themselves around Logan and an equally thin body moved at a slow pace above him. "Do I please your sight, like I do your
body, cher?"

"Mmm, very. You gonna drive me wild just by starin at you more than by fuckin you." Logan brought his hand up to cup the
man's cheek and guided their lips together. He groaned into the soft, velvet lips as the movement of the tightness around his
hard legnth moved even faster.

"You rather look at me than fuck me, monsieur? Pourquoi?" The lips pulled back while the dark eyes looked at Logan
quizzically.

"No. I want you. I need to be in your body. I love the way you feel around me." Grabbing the slim hips and rolling his
passionate lover over onto the bed, Logan thrust himself deeper into the luscious body. His body trembled as a pulsing in
his groin squirt hot, thick liquid out of him and deep into the tight channel of his lover.

Both spent, and lying beside each other in pleasant numbness, a knock had caused them both to turn and eye the door.

"Logan?" The muffled voice of Jean called to him, and knocked again. "Logan it's 6:30. Breakfast is ready. Are you awake?"

Logan sighed as he looked about his bed to find himself alone, again. His mysterious lover had disappeared and his clothes
were intact. "Yea yea, I'm awake. I'll be down in a minute." He yawned again, and pushed himself to a sitting position. He looked
about his room for any sign of difference. A spicy scent filled his nose and the room. A peppery scent that seemed to move
with him and hugged his chest.

***********************

Sometime in the afternoon, Logan knocked on the door to Xavier's library. He had received a note from Charles to meet him
in the Library at 3. He opened the door and walked inside. "Charles?"

"Logan, glad you came." Charles guided his wheelchair into the room from another doorway off to the left. "I wanted to talk
to you about your unusual behavior. I don't mean to sound intruding but, I get the feeling that something isn't right. I might be
able to help you, if you'd let me?"

Logan sat down in a chair beside a grand window and stared outside. He sighed and then told the Professor about the dreams
of him and a french speaking sultry man. Logan described the man in perfect detail. He even went so far into detail as to tell Xavier about the sex, the night prior. Logan couldn't bare to look into the Professor's eyes while he waited for the other gentleman to analyze what he had been told.

Charles thought for a moment and then closed his eyes in concentration. Something on a shelf behind Logan moved. A huge original leather-bound book moved on its own and floated into the hands of Xavier. Moving the pages with his mind, he came
to a page with a picture of the mysterious lover that Logan had described.

"That's the kid." Logan leaned forward and stared at the black and white picture of a young looking man in his 20s, wearing a buttoned up black shirt. His hair had been pulled back into a low ponytail and he seemed to be looking to his left and smiling.

"His name was Remy LeBeau."

"Was?"

"Yes. It says he was born in 1905 in New Orleans. He was killed by a jealous lover in 1930. He was one of the most advanced mutants for that day. Logan, did he by any chance tell you his name or anything about him?" Charles looked up into Logan's puzzled gaze.

"Nope. Just came to me in a dream one night."

"How long ago? What was the dream about?"

Logan thought for a minute. "I don't really remember what was goin on. All I know is that I was ridin my bike up the side of
the mountain, late at night, and the next thing I know I felt these hands on my chest and heard this kid's voice in my ears.
That was about 3 weeks ago. I thought it was just a strange dream from eatin too many chili peppers but, he kept comin
back."

"Did you ever wonder why he was there, with you?"

"Nope. It just felt kinda-- natural, I guess. Does it say where the kid's buried?"

"No. Just the last known address. I'll look up his death certificate and we can go from there. Logan, if you'll permit me to
help you, perhaps we can ask Remy why he died and why he has been haunting you." Xavier marked the place in the book
and then closed it. He and Logan left the room and headed for the Danger Room.

"If he comes to you by your dreams, perhaps Cerebro can grab ahold of his image and produce him in a more 3 dimensional setting to where we can see and talk to him. And, you won't have to be asleep to interact with him." Charles mused as they stopped infront of the Danger Room door.

"Sure hope this works, Charles."

Logan hooked himself up to the massive machine and laid down on the cold floor and closed his eyes. He fell asleep almost immediately. And, as if on cue, the hands carressed him and lips tickled his neck and cheeks.

"Mmm. Monsieur, you stay away so long. I miss you, mon amour. Why you not in de bedroom? Monsieur???" The kid lay
atop Logan and looked at him in a scared and puzzled look.

Logan grabbed the kid's forearms and held him tightly as a loud whirring sound started up. Logan opened his eyes and was actually shocked to see that his dream was now a 3-D figure. He was touchable, viewable, and a bit confused.

Remy pulled away from Logan, just as Logan stood up and tried to grab hold of him again, and backed up until he was a safe distance from Logan and the strange man in the sitting machine that hovered over and stopped next to Logan. "Qu'est-ce qui
se passe?"

"Forgive us. It's not Logan's fault, I'm afraid this was my idea. We simply wish to talk to you awhile. I am Professor Charles Xavier. You already know Logan. And, you must be Remy LeBeau? We don't wish you any harm, we are just trying to help you." Charles extended a hand, palm up, and offered it to the now visibly uncertain figure.

"Pourquoi? Why d'you wish t'help me? Remy displease you, cher? Y'wan' t'hurt Remy 'gain, mon cher?" Remy stared at
Logan, wide-eyed. He'd noticed that Logan hadn't given him an upward glance since Remy pulled away from him.

"No. I told you before, I would never hurt you." Logan finally looked up in shock and stared into red on black demon eyes.
"Why would I hurt you?"

"Remy? Why did you pick Logan's dreams? Did he know you in your lifetime?" Charles spoke up and startled the thin form
of a dream turned flesh.

"Oui. We met in Paris." Remy calmly nodded at Xavier and then refocussed his sight on Logan. "Y' don' remember, cher?
1927, we met in de Cafe Romantique. I picked yo' pocket, m'sieur. You tell me you gon' protect Remy but, you just stood dere
an' watched Remy die." Remy hung his head in shame and sadness.

"Do you mind if we talk about that day, Remy? Do you remember what went on?" Charles leaned forward in his chair and
folded his hands infront of him.

"Oui. Monsieur had been drinking. He was out all night. When he got home, he 'it Remy fo' no reason and den laughed as
Remy fell down de stairs. Call Remy a whore! Monsieur Xavier, I try to be good fo' Logan but, 'e tell me Remy no good."
Remy felt himself start to well up with tears and cast his gaze from Xavier to the floor. He'd hoped Logan hadn't caught him crying.

"Are you sure it was me, kid? I don't remember bein anywhere in 1930." Logan stepped forward and offered the kid a pat on the back in sympathy.

"Oui. Remy positive. Six claws, cigars, expensive wine." He unbuttoned his black silk shirt and spread the material away from his smooth chest to reveal 3 holes in a straight horizontal line in the middle of his ribcage. "Y' laugh at Remy when he ask you why. Do you still laugh now, mon brave?"

Both Xavier and Logan gasped in shock. Logan did so much as to walk up to the young man and run his fingers lightly over
the wounds. Logan was in absolute confusion as he realised he did remember bits and pieces but, he thought they were merely his mind playing tricks on him.

"Yes. What about now, Remy? Why do you haunt Logan's dreams now?" Charles moved his chair forward to examine the
wounds on the boy's chest.

"Remy t'ink dis time, Logan forgive him, non? Remy can be good, M'sieur. You see. Monsieur's dreams, dey nice. Like Logan
used t'be. We go fo' walks an' rides on 'is moto'cycle. Sometime's, 'e let me sit beside 'im, no behind him. He diff'rent, non?" Remy lifted his head up and smiled as he remembered all of the dream sequences.

"Is that why you never let me see ya?" Logan huffed.

"Oui." Remy nodded, letting his smile fade as he realised Logan wasn't smiling. "Desole, mon brave. You upset wit' Remy
again. I go. T'ought you forgiven Remy. Je t'aime, mon amour, je t'aime." Remy sighed and faded away, leaving the two men to
stare into the empty space he had been in.

"Wait, Remy! Come back! Please, let me...." Logan reached out into the empty space, hoping to find some contact with the
spirit.

Charles moved his chair back over to the small machine that Logan was hooked up to. "I'm sorry Logan. I was hoping we
could have talked with him a little longer. However, we did make some progress. While Remy was tangible, Cerebro managed
to obtain more than his last known address." Charles had printed something out and handed the paper to Logan. "I leave that
for you to decide. Try to get him to talk again. There must be another reason as to why he is here, now. I sensed he was very lonely and hurt by what had happened. He could be a danger to you if this goes unresolved."

Logan took the paper and stared at the words that seemed to jumble together on the page. "Charles, I know we can't undo the past, but, is there some way we could--?" Logan stopped in mid-sentenced. He was too embarrassed to finish his thought, yet Charles had heard Logan's mind tell him that he wanted Remy to be real, again. Logan began taking off the attachments and
placed them beside the machine.

"It would take more of Cerebro's power to keep him here in a prolonged state than to have him appear in your dreams.
Perhaps, we could work with the Danger Room's settings and Cerebro, and be able to produce a replica here. He said you
killed him but, why? He seems to be the only person who remembers that day.  Logan, I wonder what he meant by you forgiving him. Does anything come back to you?" Charles pondered as both men walked slowly to the door.

"Not a clue. I do some pretty wild stuff when I'm drunk but, I wouldn't kill a kid like that. I'm gonna go try to get him to talk
to me. Will you tell Jean I'll be down later for dinner?" Logan stopped in the hallway and waited as the Professor nodded in silent agreement before turning and walking in the opposite direction.

***********************

Logan stepped into the bathroom and shut the door. Locking it, he turned on the light and jumped at his reflection in the
mirror. He removed his clothing and started the water for a hot shower. He stared at the running water rushing out of the
faucet, and decided he should take a bath instead. He plugged the drain and let the water fill up. He dumped a small packet
of Lavender that Jean had given him, into the tub.

He lit some candles and turned off the bright flourescant lights and lowered himself into the cloudy water. He leaned back and
rest his head on the wall as he closed his eyes and mentally called to Remy. "Remy, we're alone now. Please, come talk to me. Come on kid, where are ya?"

Moments passed in silence. Logan was about to give up and open his eyes when he heard the voice speak to him from far
away. He moaned quietly and concentrated harder to find the kid.

"Y'gonna tell Remy t' leave you alone, m'sieur? Remy be good, promise, cher." Remy sat at a picnic table, in the middle of a huge valley full of at least 3 dozen different kinds of flowers. He sat facing away from the table, and Logan, who had
appeared on the other side. He looked out into the valley, his hands folded neatly in his lap.

"No. That aint why I wanted to talk to you."

"Why den, Logan? When we touch in dat room, you wanted Remy to go away, non? You no bring y'self to tell me to leave. Monsieur Xavier, he understand Remy, I t'ink. You no believe you kill Remy?"  Tired frustration filled Remy's voice. He
hadn't moved to look at Logan, nor had he flinched or moved away when Logan came to stand infront of him.

"I just want to talk, kid." Logan rubbed Remy's thin shoulders and then lifted him up to sit on the edge of the table. "Can we
do that, please?"

"Oui."

"I don't remember much about back then, but I know I can't stand to see you cry." Logan lifted the kid's thin, trembling chin
up and wiped his tears away. "That's better."

"Why you kill me, cher? I was good to you, non? Remy make it better, mon amour. Take away all your anger." Remy reached up and started to unbutton Logan's pants. Hands grabbed his wrists and he cried out in fear of being hurt.

"No. Not yet. You aint no sex slave, Remy. I'm tryin to tell you that. What happened in 1930, I can't take back. I don't know
what happened. I mean-- I don't remember. But, I know, I still love you. And, as strange as this is, this feels right. You beside me." Logan stared into Remy's confused eyes. The kid didn't understand that Logan didn't remember killing him.

Remy placed a hand on Logan's temple and told him to close his eyes. "I show you ev't'in, mon brave." Remy closed his eyes
and concentrated. He moved both of them back to 1930. They stood in the middle of a huge livingroom, decorated in fine art
and fancy artifacts.

Logan started to speak but was stopped by Remy's hand and then a point in the direction of the main staircase that curved it's black marble stairs up the far wall of the equally grand entranceway.

Remy was alive, and making his way downstairs in a hurry. He was dressed in a white shirt and light brown khaki pants. He looked out the window and smiled as he saw Logan approaching the front door. Throwing open the door, he took the visibly drunken man in his arms and hugged him. "You home, cher! I fix breakfast for you. Yo' favourite, m'sieur. I take y'coat, an'
we eat, non?"

Logan, in an angry pout swatted the Cajun across his face and causing him to be knocked into the wall, next to the front door,
as he fell. "Don't just sit there, close the damn door! Lettin the cold in." Logan growled and walked passed Remy to the stairs.

"Oui." Remy shook his head, trying to shake off his dizziness and scrambled for the door. He shut and locked it before
turning back to watch Logan sway and try to climb the stairs.

Logan made it half way up the staircase by himself. Remy had to help him the rest of the way. "I don't need yer help, Cajun." Logan swatted Remy again with the back of his hand and nearly fell backwards if Remy hadn't have caught him.

"Oui. I help you t'bed. You feel better in de morn, non? I rub y'back and help you relax?" Remy locked his arm around
Logan's waist and pushed him forward towards the bedroom.

"I told you, kid, I don't need yer help!" Logan grabbed Remy's shirt and pulled him to the other side of the staircase, and up against the wall. "Yer just helpin me so I'll fuck ya. Is that it? Huh?!" Remy flinched away and closed his eyes as the hot breath came within inches of his ear. Logan had been drinking Vodka neat. He was violent and unpredictable when he drank Vodka. Logan began fumbling at his belt buckle. Undoing his pants and pulling himself hard, he stopped briefly to remove Remy's pants, before turning and pushing Remy to the floor.

"Non, please, m'sieur. I only wan' t'help. Please don' do dis." Remy begged and fought to keep his shirt from being ripped
apart by Logan's 3 claws that had freed themselves from his free hand.

Logan growled again and thrust himself deep into Remy's tight opening. Pounding harder and harder, not caring that the man underneath him was now shaking and crying while begging him to stop. "You like this, you little slut? Huh?!"

Remy turned his head and answered in a panicked whisper. "Oui, monsieur."

"Is this all you want from me? Just a good fuck and a bed to sleep in?" Logan thrust harder and sneered, evily. He saw the tears that slid down Remy's pale cheeks as he asnwered the same 'Oui, monsieur.'

Remy lay sprawled on the cold floor as Logan pounded fiercely into him. "Sil vous plait, Logan. Please stop, mon amour. I
love you. Do not do dis." Remy gasped outloud as Logan pushed himself even deeper into the boy's trembling body, and came hard.

Logan grunted and waited till he finished before removing himself and tucking his bloody manhood back into his pants and zipping up. He was oblivious to what he had just done. Instead he stood up and stepped over the scared young man. "Get off
the floor, Cajun. Clean yerself up." Logan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and continued to stumble his way towards their bedroom.

Remy lay there a minute before rolling onto his side and looking down at his own semi-hard manhood. He wiped the tears
away and cringed as the sudden movement caused his bum to burn in pain. He stood up and pulled his pants back into place. Wiping the small pool of blood up with his shirt, he looked down the hallway to his left, the same hallway Logan had disappeared to.

He was coming back.

Logan tripped out of the bedroom door and back down the hall to meet Remy at the top of the stairs. He stopped when he
realised Remy was standing in his way. "Move."

"Je t'aime, Logan?" Remy forced a faint smile. "How bout we stay home, non? You sleep and den we go out later, on Remy?"

Logan grabbed him again and pushed him against the same wall as before. "I told you, I don't need your help, slut!" With
that, Logan released a fist of 3 claws into Remy's chest. He removed them as Remy began to tumble down the staircase in complete shock. When Remy landed at the bottom, lying on his back and keeping his eyes on the now hysterical Canadian,
Logan snorted as he was asked for help. Instead, Logan made his way back to the bedroom and slammed the door shut,
leaving a stunned Cajun to convulse and finally give his last breath.

Logan opened his eyes and looked around to find himself back at the pinic table, with arms wrapped around his shoulders.
He was speechless. He was in shock and disgusted with himself for being so cruel to such a loving and trusting soul.

"Pourquoi, Logan? You forgive Remy now, m'sieur?"

To Be Continued...........

More soon...... :)