RATING: NC-17
WARNING: SLASH
PAIRING: LOGAN/REMY
AUTHOR: SISTERWINE
SUMMARY: Now that Logan has Remy, can they move on from 1930? Logan takes drastic steps to ensure that he never raises a hand to Remy again. Is Remy ready for his future at the Mansion, or will
he take off the bracelet and return to Logan's dreams?
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Sequel to "Only In My Dreams" (also mine).

Logan lay on his left side. The blanket had been tossed off of his body, so that just the crisp white sheet remained to cover his waist and below. He clutched his pillow and groaned in his sleep at the movement behind him. Without opening his eyes, he rolled himself onto his stomach and smiled as clever fingers brushed lightly over his back and shoulders. His head was turned to his left, as he faced Remy's side of the bed but, didn't open his eyes.

Words drifted into his mind, from above him. He could barely understand the hazed french but, managed to catch on to a few words and phrases. The phrase that had caught his attention the most, and forced him to open his eyes, was the voice's soft and tearful slur of, "Au revoir, mon couer." Logan jerked, violently. He'd opened his eyes and pushed himself up, off of the bed to find himself alone.

The bright moonlight illuminated the room, and he could easily see a solitary object amidst the mussed linen, it sparkled. It lay in the middle of Remy's side of the bed, surrounded by a ring of cotton linen. Logan reached for it and picked it up. His mind fought the trembles and screams of realization.
"REMY!!" He screamed in a heart-shattering sob. He got up, out of the bed and ran, naked, through the house, searching desparately for the beautiful young man he longed for. He sniffed at the air, still
nothing. Object in hand, he crouched in a dark corner of the moonlit livingroom. His sobs becoming louder and deeper as he rubbed his thumb over the jewels of the bracelet.

He'd lost. Remy had given up on him and he'd lost. The pain tore at his chest, and for a brief moment,
he felt the same horrible and disgusted feeling that he'd felt when he'd first found Remy. dead. He saw the boy's dead eyes, staring up at the high ceiling, as he lay in a pool of dark red. Logan remembered
the boy's hands clutching his chest as if trying to desparately stop the flow of blood. The stains of
tears, streaked down the boy's temples. The boy was dead, and had been for several hours. Perhaps his efforts had pushed the youth too far?

His hands ached to hold the young man, draw him near. His lips parted and his tongue slithered across them, trying desperately to recreate the velvet touch the boy's mouth had. He sobbed, quietly and lay himself down on the cool tile of the livingroom.

"Come back to me, Remy. I need you." His heart broke in two as he heard nothing but his own tears falling onto the black swirled tiles.

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

Logan sat up, his heart racing. He looked beside him, on the bed. Empty. He searched the bed frantically. Once again, the moonlight was so bright, in the room. Nothing was found. Not even the jeweled object.

A dream?

He'd gotten up, out of the bed and hadn't bothered slipping on his jeans, or boxers, as he wandered out
of the bedroom. Checking the other rooms, that lie down the dark hall, to his left, he'd come up with nothing. He stopped in the hall, and listened. Sniffed, blood. A soft whimper had come from somewhere, still on the second level.

Logan ran back, past the bedroom and darted to the left, eyeing the empty staircase, as he came to a
stop at the door to the right of him. He looked at the closed door, and silently turned the handle in what felt like extreme slow motion. Logan eased the door open and found the boy, sitting in the antique bathtub, scrubbing himself and whimpering in pain.

He moved forward, into the dark room, and saw the steam rise off of the water, and the red hue of Remy's skin. Logan knelt beside the tub and stroked Remy's hair, whispering softly. "What're ya doin, kid?"

Remy stopped and turned to him. His eyes were sullen and downcast. "Won' come off."

"What won't, Rem?"

"De pain, de shame, an' de blood. Won' come off, cher. No mat'er 'ow 'ard Remy try."

"Shame fer what, darlin?" Logan rest his left arm on the side of the tub, while his right hand continued
to play with the sweat-dampened hair. He slipped a lock behind the boy's ear, and played with the end.

Remy scrubbed his arm again, "F'r bein a whore. When de femme take hol' o' Remy, she make him come. An' Remy coul'n' stop. Didn' wan' t' stop. Fel' so good, cher. So good." He looked away from Logan and back to his task. Remy continued to scrub. He'd scrubbed so hard that places on his arms
and chest had started to become raw and bleed at contact.

"I told ya, Rem, it aint nothin to lose sleep over."

"I know."

"Didja want it?"

Remy stopped, and stared at the water. He choked. "Oui." He answered slowly, and started scrubbing
his legs, making the water turn slightly pink, as blood rose up from tiny cuts.

Logan saw this. He gently took hold of the cloth in Remy's hands, and pulled it away from him. Swithcing it from hand to hand, he lay it over the edge of the small, round sink and then reached into
the soapy water and pulled the plug to let the water out. His eyes fixed themselves on Remy, and each
of his tender scratches. He stood up, gingerly pulled Remy to his feet, and lifted him out of the tub, by wrapping a strong arm around his hips.

Remy threw his arms around Logan's neck and kissed his collarbone. "T'encule moi, cher? Sil vous plait?" He'd bucked his hips lightly against the older man's renewed arousal.

"No baby. Not time yet. Soon." Logan reached up and pulled Remy's arms from around him, and held
his wrists, gingerly, to his chest.

Remy dropped his head and pouted.

He let go and went to grab a towel from the small linen closet, across the hall. Logan sighed and helped Remy to dry off. And then, knelt down to retrieve something from a small black case, under the stand alone sink. Logan handed him a small tube of Mycitracen, and told Remy to go back to bed and apply it to the scratches. When the boy only looked at him, confused, Logan kissed his forehead gave him a gentle push out of the room.

When Logan heard the soft squeak and groan of the mattress springs, he glanced down, at his own erection. Running a hand lightly over the long shaft, he turned and knelt in front of the porcelain bowl
and raised the lid. Running his fingers along the underside of the shaft, down to where the skin was round, and becoming tight, Logan closed his eyes and gripped the edge of the porcelain with his free hand.

Logan dropped his head and fixed his sights on the water. He thought to himself that he hadn't really wanted to do this. He'd rather walk back into the bedroom, lay Remy down and thrust himself deep into the boy as he came. But, he couldn't. Not yet, he'd told the auburn haired beauty that had practically begged for him to do just that. Logan's mind wandered and let his thoughts be directed to a long, sinewy body with long legs and a willingness that seemed to have no end. He ground his teeth and growled, as
he pulled himself with rough force. Pre-come had started to flow over the top, and he hissed, inwardly. Closing his eyes, Logan pictured how lovely the kid looked, kneeling before him, and letting his tongue work the long and hardened length. He hated not being able to share himself with the young man that
was so willing and wanting. Logan jerked and opened his eyes to see a white ribbon push up, out of him and disappear into the water. More. He wanted more. He'd thought about licking the kid's body until he couldn't stand it. He thought about swallowing the kid's gorgeous amount as his back would arch up off of the bed, his eyes closed. So graceful, the young man was, during sex. Logan had always wanted the light on to watch the climax and fire burn from inside of Remy. He was like watching a long, hard wave that crashed so elegantly into the hard, fierce rocks of orgasm. Another long, hot, white ribbon shot out of him and landed on the underside of the toilet seat lid.

Keeping the image of his sweet boy, and how his orgasm sent shivers up Logan's spine, he pulled
himself harder. His body shook, as other images flowed into his mind. Violent images. Images of the
boy being dragged into the house, from the front gate, by his long silken hair. The boy's legs twisting
and pushing at the gravel and grass as he was being harshly pulled. Or, other images of him pushing the thin and wonderfully naked body, down onto the long dark and polished oak table and forcing the kid to come as Logan pulled and sucked on the bruised manhood of the boy. Another image was of hitting the boy, swaying, and pushing him as he aimed for the bedroom door, at the top of the stairs. Ending the boy's harsh rape as three terribly sharp claws shot into the small and frail ribcage. And then hearing himself laugh as a pained and shocked expression on the boy's beautiful face tumbled down the stairs. Logan jerked, leaned over the bowl, and came in a mad rush. He gripped the bowl with crushing force. Eyes closed tightly, and growling through gritted teeth.

When it was over, Logan sat there, on the floor, too tired to move. His manhood had gone limp, and his head throbbed with pain from his harsh orgasm. After a moment, he could move. Logan grabbed a
small strip of toiletpaper, cleaned himself, and the lid, and then flushed.

He yawned.

Remy sat on the end of the bed and stared at the thin curtain that hung over the medium sized window. He hadn't bothered to slip on his boxers, or anything else for that matter. His head swam, and his eyes closed. As Logan came back into the room, he stood up but didn't turn around. "Feel better, cher?" Remy's voice was soft and cracked with tired strain and ache.

"Hm. Let's just talk about this in the mornin." Logan walked up and stopped at Remy's right and kissed his cheek before heading back to bed.

"Mais oui, mon brave." Remy breathed.

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

Remy had gotten up and dressed long before Logan had even thought about opening his eyes. He wandered into the bathroom to pee and brush his teeth and hair. Dressing himself in black silk boxers, tight black jeans, and a black silk shirt, he buttoned and tucked the shirt as he headed down the stairs.
He held his breath and hesitated, briefly, as he stepped over both stains, and made his way to the kitchen.

Pushing through the tall swinging door, Remy looked about and found several things had been replaced. He made his way around the room in slight awe. His icebox had been updated to a white, double doored refrigerator, and a "microwave" now sat on the new black formica counter beside it. Stainless steel pots and pans now hung from the steel canopy above the island that occupied most of the free space, in the middle of the huge kitchen. Catching his eye on an object that sat beside the also brand new porcelain sink, was a small white coffee maker. Remy examined it and then stared at it for a moment.

An arm reached from behind him and pushed the "START" button before joining another arm, as it wrapped around Remy's slender waist. Lips nibbled at the side of his neck as the arms drew him back, into the warm body behind him. The body pressed against him and it was beginning to make Remy feel uncomfortable.

Remy cleared his throat and moved away from Logan. "You hungry, cher? I make breakfast."

Logan shook his head. "Need groceries, first, kid. I'll go get a shirt on and some shoes, and we'll go. Okay?"

Remy nodded, then shook his head. "I go, cher. Y' stay here an' relax, oui?" He had finally turned around to look at Logan, who stood a few paces away from him, in just an old pair of blue jeans.

"Rem, this ain't--"

"Dis aint de 20s, I know!" Remy mocked and rolled his eyes.

"I'm just sayin, alot of things have changed, kid. Tell ya what, I'll get dressed, and we'll go find a nice sit down place to eat, ok?" Logan reached into the tall cupboard to his right, and retrieved a white coffee cup. He removed the pot from the machine, and to Remy's amazement- the coffee stopped dripping until the pot was replaced, and poured Remy a cup of coffee. "You just sit down and have some coffee, I'll run upstairs." He handed the cup to Remy, who graciously accepted it.

Remy sighed and nodded. He walked over to the island counter and set his cup down, before turning around and pushing himself up onto the countertop to sit. He faced the sink and looked out the good-sized window above it. His blank expression caused Logan to raise an eyebrow in wonder.

"You feel ok, Rem?" He asked, cautiously.

"Oui, cher. Go g't ready. Remy wait f'r you." Remy answered just as flat as his expression had appeared.

Logan retrieved another coffee cup out of the same tall cabinet, and poured himself some coffee as the maker had finally finished. Without turning around, he asked. "What's the matter, Remy?"

"Nev'mine, cher." Remy sighed again, he wrapped his left hand around the hot cup that sat beside him. Bringing it to his lips,  he eyed Logan, as the man replaced the pot to it's place and braced his hands against the counter.

"Don't lie to me, Rem." Logan said, nearly under his breath.

Remy flinched at the phrase. "Y' gonn' kill Remy 'gain, Logan?" He lowered his head and set his cup beside him again. His voice trembled as he fought to ask the question.

Logan shot around and looked at him. He couldn't believe what he'd heard. "No. Don't even think that! That aint the reason I brought you here."

"Den why, cher? If dis aint back den, why we 'ere now?" Remy was forced to look at Logan, as the
man came to stand in front of him.

Logan spread Remy's legs and stood between them, hugging him. "We need to work through this, so
that we can move on. As painful as it is, I need to remember what this was like. Bein with you, alone. I know, it was never easy. But, I just have to know how this felt. To you."

"Always drunk, cher. Always. Try t' keep Remy unde' lock an' key. No' a day wen' by y' didn' tell
Remy 'e was stupid, or wort'less. Hit Remy 'lot. But, we lie down, in de bed, an' y' make love t' Remy
so nice." Remy didn't move to embrace the man, at all. Instead, he just sat there and stared forward.

Logan shyed away. He gathered his coffee cup and went back upstairs to get dressed, leaving Remy to sit there and wonder why.

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

When Logan came back downstairs, he found Remy sitting in the livingroom, reading a book. "You comin?" He called from the last step.

Remy shook his head and didn't move from reading the book.

"I'll uh-... I'll be back in a bit. Just gonna run to the store and come back, ok?" He looked to the young man and finished buttoning his shirt.

"D'accord, cher." Remy turned the page. He listened to Logan walk to the door, open it and jingle keys from his pocket. The door shut and the car engine started. Remy was alone, again. He sighed and closed the book.

He spent the time alone, wandering through the house and making notes of what had changed and what had stayed the same. Plenty had changed. In addition to the new appliances in the kitchen, Remy found
a brand new swing, on the porch. A new lawnmower in the shed, in the backyard. And a new roof on the back porch.

Remy eyed the tall oak tree, but stayed away from it. He could see the carving, and where the box had been dug up. He shivered.

As he went back inside, he checked the new yet antique looking clock on the wall, to the right of the front door. Four hours had passed. He wondered where Logan was. Remy shook his head and spent the afternoon, sitting on the front porch swing, staring at the gate.

As night wandered in, Remy had been laying down on the new and cushioned swing, napping. Remy
was on his right side and had his legs drawn close to him, and his arms tucked close to his chest. He opened his eyes and looked for the Taurus car. Still, nothing. The sky had begun to darken and splash bright with fading colour. Remy cared less. Instead, he played with the metal bracelet on his wrist. The band had begun to loosen around his wrist, and he slid it up to rest just below the palm of his hand. He could slide his thumb underneath of the metal and rub it on the underside of the bracelet. It was so close to be slid completely off, and he debated it. If Logan was where he'd thought, then the man wouldn't miss him when he returned home, swaying and drowsy.

Sighing drowsily, he sat up, slipped the band back on and rubbed his eyes with his fingertips, before standing up and walking to the door. Reaching for the handle, he stopped and turned around to see headlights at the gate. Putting his hand up to block the light and get a better look, he saw that it was the Taurus, and Logan had gotten out to open the gate.

Remy froze.

The car had come through the gate and stopped, again. The gate was shut and the car continued
forward until it came to a final stop in front of the house. Shutting the lights and the engine off, Logan opened the door and stepped out. He didn't look at Remy, who was staring at him through wide red on black eyes.

Logan opened the back passenger door and pulled two brown bags from the seat before turning and heading slowly up the stairs. "More in the car, kid. Help yerself." He said as he passed Remy and went into the house.

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

They had put things away and Logan had begun to fix dinner.

Logan stood over the stove, which was also new, and fried potatoes and sausages in a steel pan. He
was quiet and unnervingly calm. Dishing the meal up on two china plates, he nudged his way through
the kitchen door, and set the plates down on the table.

Remy sat at the end of the long table and Logan sat next to him on the right side. Remy watched as Logan sat down and picked up his fork to start.

"I aint drunk, Rem. A beer, yes. Drunk, no. Stop it." Logan didn't glance up at him as he stabbed a piece of meat and took a bite.

Remy sat back and turned slightly to watch Logan. "Den, wha's de matter, cher?"

Logan sighed and chewed, his mouth closed in slight anger. He swallowed after a long moment.

"Where y' been?""

Setting his fork down, to the side of his plate, Logan rest his elbows on the table and clasped his hands together, rubbing his thumbs over his lips. He looked at Remy very calmly, and by the look of him,
Logan could tell Remy's skin was about to crawl off of him. "Met an interestin man, today. Stopped at the bank, this mornin, before I went to the store. Guy in front of me had the same last name as you. Same hair colour and all. We got to talkin, in line, and it turns out...... Remy LeBeau had a kid. Only, he said he never knew either parent. Just the name of his dad, and that, he got from a Priest at the church, here in town. So, I offered him a beer, and we had a long chat. When did this happen, kiddo?" Logan's voice never faltered from an even, calm tone.

Remy shook. Taking in a deep breath, he explained. "Oui. He my chile. I married a fille when Remy was 'round 17. Few mont's la'er, she pregnan'. He born in August. When he born, she die. Remy didn' wan'
t' raise de chile on his own. So, gave 'im up t' de Priests. His life bet'ter dan mine, oui? Name 'im Malicoire. Remy no 'andle dis good, so--..."

"You decided to go to Paris and pick my pocket....?" Logan cut him off.

"Oui, an' non."

"Why me, Rem? Why my pocket?" Logan leaned in for the answer.

Remy shrugged and looked at his hands, twitching in his lap. "Y' soul call t' me, cher. We b'lon' t'ge'her, mon amour. Remy t'ought dat y' teach 'im t' be a man, an' Remy teach y' t' live, non?"

"Why didn't you tell me about him?" Laying his arms down so that his hands unclasped and pointed in to his chest, Logan shifted to make eye contact with him.

"Ne'er came up. Y' mad at me, cher?" Remy looked at Logan, pleadingly.

Logan sighed and picked up his fork again. Stabbing some potatoes, he answered. "No. Long time ago. Come on, food's gettin cold."

"Kay." Remy picked up his fork as they dined in silence.

When they finished, Logan told Remy to stay put while he went into the kitchen with both plates. When he came back, a bottle occupied his left hand, and a glass was in his right. Logan sat back down in his chair and watched as Remy's expression widened in shock and fear. "Relax. It aint for me."

"Moi, cher?"

Logan nodded as he poured a small portion of the bottle of Bourbon into the small shotglass. He set the glass in front of Remy and placed his hands in his lap.

"Pourquoi, Logan?" Remy also backed away from the glass. He watched Logan like a hawk.

"To relax you. The nose don't lie, kid. You try not to show it, and after yesterday, I don't blame ya. But, it aint good to keep it bottled up inside ya. Get me?" Logan sat forward and nudged the glass in front of Remy.

Remy stared at it for a minute. Taking the glass, in graceful fingers, and brought it to his lips. He drank, slowly. When the glass was empty, he set it back down on the table and blinked at the taste.

"Better?"

Remy nodded.

Logan put the top back on the bottle and pushed it away. He sat back and continued to watch Remy.

Five minutes passed, and Remy hadn't moved or spoken at all. Finally, Remy grabbed the glass with his right hand and stood up, charging the empty shotglass. His chair had been knocked over and he could feel Logan's defensive anger grow. He was taken aback as Logan had also stood up and grabbed hold of his hand, squeezing with bruising strength.

"Do it, kid. If yer gonna go, I might as well go too....... Well?" Logan closed the gap and locked eyes with Remy. His tone was hard and serious. He could smell Remy's fear and realization of Logan telling the truth.

Remy backed down and drew the charge back in. When Logan released him, he set the glass back
down on the table and backed away completely.

Logan, too, had backed down. He sighed and motioned for the boy to come to him. Drawing Remy into an embrace, Logan soothed his soft, auburn hair and breathed in his scent. Remy's warmth and drunk need played sweetly on his senses. "Why not a good woman, Rem? Why get mixed up in sellin yerself,
or me?" Logan asked as he buried his nose in Remy's hair.

"De filles satisfy, but dey only wan' Remy f'r a toy, non? Wit' you, Remy was his own. Mos' of de
time." Remy nuzzled himself so close to Logan, he felt he was suffocating him. "Logan?"

"Hm?"

"If we here t' be in love, why y' don' make love to me? Remy be so good, cher. Promise? Can' stan' not touchin' you." Remy closed his eyes.

Logan had started to answer when the phone rang, from the livingroom. He growled and cursed, softly. Pulling away, he took hold of Remy's hand and led the other man across the entranceway to answer the phone. He picked it up and said hello. He smirked and smiled as a mouth tickled the left side of his neck, opposite the side of the phone.

Almost immediately, the laughter ceased, and he nudged Remy away from him as he turned around. "I'll be there." He pushed the button on the phone and watched Remy jump at the 'beep', from the corner of his eye. Turning back to Remy, he sighed. "I gotta go to Baton Rouge. Jean and the team need my
help."

Remy nodded, solemnly. "I go wit' you. Be help, oui?"

"No. You'll get hurt, or worse. Yer stayin here. Rem, ya been outta the loop for a long while. I know
you can use em, but ya don't know what you're up against here."

Remy glared and pulled back. "I'm goin. De bon chere need help."

"I said no." Logan growled.

"Remy is goin." Remy narrowed his eyes in deep glare.

Logan growled and raised his hand to backhand Remy, but stopped himself before he swung. He caught the sudden flinch as Remy turned his head, slightly.

When Remy didn't move, Logan lowered his hand and moved to embrace the young man again. When Remy backpeddled, wide-eyed, he dropped his hands and pushed past him.

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

Remy sat on the floor, in the livingroom, playing solitaire. He sat cross-legged, with his left elbow
resting on his knee, and his fingers curled loosely, to hold his head up. He yawned.

It had been nearly five hours since Logan left.

The doorbell rang and he jumped. His heart pounded painfully in his chest. Getting up, he walked cautiously to the front door and looked out the small window to the right. A woman. He was sure Logan hadn't invited anyone over, and he knew he hadn't. He eased the door open a crack and stared at the figure.

"Hi shugah, remember me?" She smiled and took two steps closer to him.

"What y' doin here, girl?" Remy asked, concealing a blush.

She traced his jawline with a finger. "Logan sent me to check on ya. Was worried about ya. Can I come in?"

Remy blushed and opened the door for her. "Oui, chere, sil vouz plait."

"Thank ya."
 

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