Demons

Part Five

Tuesday was sitting in the corner carefully building a house of cards 

when Jean knocked lightly on Remy's bedroom door.Tuesday glanced up,

smiled briefly, then directed her attention back to the cards.

"Remy's brushin' his teeth."

Jean smiled back."I can wait."

Remy emerged seconds later.He looked at Jean for a moment before 

greeting her."Bonjour."His left wrist was wrapped in white, 

covering the stitches Hank had had to give him the day before.

"Hi, Remy," were her words, but her tone was heavy and apologetic.

"What is it?"Tuesday was about to set down a card to connect two 

towers.She had three full layers so far, and still half a deck left.

Gently, Jean said, "Tuesday, I need to talk to you about the 

Marauders."

Tuesday's hand shook, and the castle collapsed.She stared from 

Remy's guilt-stricken face to Jean's uncertain concern.She didn't 

say anything.

"It's very important.Are you okay with that?"

"Do I have t'?"she asked Remy.

He licked his lips and nodded."Yeah."

"Why?"

Jean replied, "We need to know about them.We are going to find them,

but we need to know what you know to help us look."

"C'n Remy stay?"

Jean nodded."Fine with me if it's fine with him."

"Oui."He sat heavily on the edge of his bed, rubbing his hands over 

his face.Tuesday jumped up and jumped next to him; Jean settled on 

Tuesday's bed, across from them. 

"What d' y' need t' know?"Tuesday asked nervously.She brought her 

hand to her mouth and ran her teeth over the smooth polish.

"Scott wants to know about Sinister and how powerful the Marauders 

are now.Whether they're a threat in the near future.Hank needs to 

know what they - how he can help you, Tuesday.Whatever you can tell 

me.If you can't say it, you can think it to me.That okay?"She 

looked from one to the other.

"I don' like dem."

"I don't, either, Tuesday."

"O-okay."

"I'll start."Remy spoke about the scene on the road, leaving out 

all dialogue once the Marauders appeared.He briefly considered 

leaving out the cigarette but decided against it.Jean raised an 

eyebrow but sobered when he didn't react.

At Jean's prompting, Tuesday haltingly told about the shots and the 

drugs and the Legacy virus.Jean helped her recall details that 

could potentially help Hank.As the child spoke, hysteria began to 

creep into her voice; Remy held her hand.She stopped short when she 

came to waking up for the first time to see Remy being beaten and 

cuffed to the wall.She closed her eyes; her breathing was shaky; 

tears streamed down her cheeks.Remy slid closer and wrapped his arm 

around her waist.He kissed her hair and murmured that everything 

would be all right.

Jean hated herself but knew she had to keep asking."What happened 

then?"

Remy glared at her with misdirected hatred."Dey raped her, what d' 

y' t'ink dey did?"

"Remy, I'm - "

"I sure as hell couldn' do not'ing."

Tuesday didn't hear."I dream ‘bout dem as demons, with blood 

dripping down deir hands.But dey're not demons.Dey're real, and 

dey're in my head, and I can' make dem go away..."

"Jean," Remy said slowly, "don' make her go t'rough dat again.What 

dey did t' her - "

"Demons, I hate de demons..."

"Tuesday, honey," Jean started.

"Don' call her dat," Remy warned, too late.

"Philip called - " were the only words Tuesday could force out.

"Who?"Jean asked.

"Riptide," Remy answered after a beat

Jean looked at her strangely."How did you know his name was Philip?

"

"Remy was screaming at him when he..."

"How did you know him, Remy?" she asked cautiously.

Still holding Tuesday, he skimmed through his option.Denial was 

impossible.Lying was impossible; Tuesday would know.Jean probably 

would to.*Go for a half-truth.*

"Dey have connections in de Assassins' Guild."

"Dey would," Tuesday scowled.

*Jean,* Remy thought, hoping she would hear him.*There's nothing 

left that she knows that I can't tell you.Leave her out of all this.

*

Jean smiled sadly.*Okay.Remy, I'm sorry about - all this.*

"D'y' wan' t' go back t' de card castle?"

She glared contemptuously as the cards in the corner."Cards an' 

card houses are stupid.Wind always knocks dem down."

"Okay."Turning back to Jean, Remy thought everything to her except 

his meetings with Sinister.He could sense her anger and indignation 

growing until, when he was finished, she said with quiet deliberation,

"I swear to you, Remy, and you, Tuesday, that we will find them. We 

will find them, and I swear to you we will kill them.No matter how 

long it takes.We will find them." 

***

Tuesday struggled again to block events from her mind, succeeding 

enough by noon the following day to decide she wanted ice cream for 

lunch.Remy decided to take her into a Baskin Robbins in town.He 

wore his trench coat, and she wore her new soft blazer.She swung 

onto the motorcycle behind him.

Scott frowned from the porch."Doesn't she need a helmet?"

"Why?"She felt safe enough with Remy to talk back to Scott.

Remy gave a half-smile."She's dying anyway, homme."He laughed 

when she raised her middle finger, but Scott had already turned away, 

his disapproval apparent even from behind.

"C'n I drive?"

He started the engine."Not wit' him in sight."

She waited until they were out of the yard."Now c'n I drive?"

"It's illegal."

"So's t'ieving."

"Touche."

"C'mon, please?"

He slowed the bike and put his feet down.She squealed and hopped on 

in front of him."But I'm gonna keep my hands on yours, oui?Y' can 

steer, but it be jus' in case.If y' good enough...maybe won' even 

need dat."

She beamed at him.

"Anyway, it'll give me a chance t' have a smoke."

She gave him a look."If y' stop smoking, y' may live longer dan I 

will."

He stopped, suddenly sober."Don' talk like dat."

"Sorry."

She asked for bubblegum; he ordered cookies and cream.They both 

kept their coats on inside.*Cold-blooded,* Jean-Luc had told Remy 

once.*Cold-blooded as a lizard.*

They sat down at a small table against the window.Remy sighed.

"You okay?"

"It's been a bad week."

"An' me showin' up didn' help any."

"Actually, you did."He smiled."It's no fun gettin' ice cream 

alone."

"What else's happened?"

He hesitated."Been thinkin' ‘bout Rogue."

"She used t' be y' girlfriend, right?"Tuesday guessed.

He nodded."Broke up a few weeks ago."

"She found a new guy awfully fast."

"Oui."He smiled bitterly, then ironically.He usually had talks 

like this over beer, not ice cream.

Tuesday continued casually."So why did you break up wit' her?"

"I didn'."

"She dumped you?For him?"Tuesday exclaimed in incredulous 

disbelief."Why?"

He grinned ironically, feeling a little better."T'anks, chere."

Tuesday couldn't get over it."She left y' for dat - walking...

eggplant?"

Remy burst out laughing, attracting the startled stare of an elderly 

couple behind Tuesday.

"Didn' she know what she had?"His laughter was infectious.

"Guess not," he chuckled.

"Geez, she didn' even deserve you."She wrinkled her nose up.She 

looked ridiculously cute, and Remy felt a brief surge of pride that 

she was his and that she loved him.

His ice cream tasted better after that.After a while he glanced up 

and repeated, "Walking eggplant, eh?"

She grinned and shifted in her seat."Well..."

He just shook his head.

"You're happy.I like seeing you happy," she told him.

"I like being happy."

"Do you?"It wasn't a challenge.

"Eh?"

"Y'know," she said, putting both elbows on the table and holding her 

chin in her hands, "you're hiding somet'ing."

"Now?"

"De whole time I been here.Y' hiding somet'ing."

"Good or bad?"

"Can' tell."

"Want a soda?"He stood up.

She didn't particularly, and he knew it, but they both knew he was 

just avoiding the conversation."Whatever you want."

"T'anks."

Soon as he walked away, she pulled her jacket over her face and 

coughed so hard and so long that the elderly woman behind her offered 

her a cough drop."No, ma'am, I be okay.Just tryin' t' keep from 

coughin' for so long it kinda builds up."

By the time Remy came back with his coke, she had remembered another 

question she had wanted to ask him.She was sure he heard her 

coughing, but it pained him so much to see her sick that she did her 

best to avoid it.

"What's it like being a myth?"she asked as soon as he sat down.

"Like bein' a what?"

"What's it like being a myth?Like a comic book hero.Everyone 

wants t' be you, y' know."

"Everyone who?"

She shrugged."We do.Everyone.We'd act out stories and role-

playing and t'ings.All of de T'ief kids.Me n' Pierre.He'd be 

you, ‘cause he likes t' blow up stuff and kill t'ings and I'd be 

Bella Donna."She shrugged, slightly embarrassed."It's funner dan 

cowboys and Indians.

"Y' serious?"

"Oui.An' we'd fight imaginary Assassins and Candra and jus' make up 

everything."

He seemed fascinated."I'm a legend now?"

"Oui."

"Cool."He was smiling."So how are t'ings in N'Awlins?"

"Not good.We're killin' each other again."

"Figures."

"Does, don' it?Mama said Mardi Gras makes people crazy like dat."

Remy nodded."Oui, t'ings seem to flare up den, don' dey."

She brightened."I got t' be in our parade last year."

"Wish I coulda gotten down t' see."

They rose to leave, but Tuesday hung back when she heard someone 

speaking to her.

"You're a very nice young lady," the old woman said in a feeble 

voice, "but you cough too much.You should see a doctor."

"I did."

"And what did he say?"

"He says I'm dying."

The old woman assumed the typical look of pain and sympathy and 

tightened her grip on her walking cane."I'm sorry to hear that, 

young lady."

"Everyone says that."She turned and followed Remy into the sun.

He looked down at her and quipped, in falsetto, "I'm sorry to hear 

that, young lady."

"Shu'up."When he simply laughed, she said, "Va au diable!"Go to 

hell.

His eyes went wide."Whoa.Strong language, petite."

She smiled."Va te faire foutre."Fuck off.

"Who taught y' t' swear like dat?"

"I assimilate."She looked at him sweetly.

"It was Augustine, wasn' it."

"Maybe."

"It was Augustine."

"Maybe."

"Kids today."

As they walked to the motorcycle, she pointed back the way they had 

come."Was dat church we passed dere Catholic?"

"Oui."

"C'n we check de times?"

"Why?Y' wanna go?"

She nodded."I haven' been in a long time.Well, over a week."

"Y' still believe in God?"Remy had long since tried to convince 

himself he was an atheist.Otherwise he would have had to face the 

fact that he was damned.

"Oui."

"After everyt'ing?"

"God didn't make me sick.God didn't hurt me.God didn' do any of 

dat."

"God didn' do anyt'ing, period."

"He let you be dere for me."

The sincerity of that simple statement choked him.*If you only knew 

what else I had been there for...*

"It's kinda comforting t' know dat dere's somet'ing bigger out dere 

watching and guiding everyt'ing.Y' know?"

"I know de feeling, but comforting ain' de word I would use," he 

muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing.We can go see if y' wan'."

Mass for Remy went as well as he had expected.He shifted 

uncomfortably and kept glancing down at his watch whenever Tuesday 

wasn't looking.With her there, he could find no way out of going up 

for communion.

"Body of Christ."

"Amen," Tuesday whispered, and crossed herself.Aimee had been so 

happy, she remembered, at her first communion.It had only been a 

few weeks ago - *only a few weeks ago?* - beginning of February.At 

the big Gothic church that overlooked New Orleans.The Thieves' 

church.

"Body of Christ."

Remy took the host and choked on the "Amen."

***

Tuesday slouched in one of the leather chairs that faced the big-

screen TV.She frowned at a remote control, trying to figure out how 

to change the channel.

"Wrong controller," Remy explained when she said something.He 

handed her another."Dat one for de VCR."

She shook her head as she started flipping stations."I don' see how 

y' c'n get used to living here."

Remy looked around."It's strange; I've lived in mansions like dis 

half my life."

"What's on?"

Remy turned around to see Bobby standing in the door way."Hey, 

Bobby.Nothing, really.Jus' flipping t'rough de channels."

Tuesday smiled.

Bobby settled into the sofa."Baywatch is on, you guys."

"Oh, please."

"It was worth a shot."

Rogue tripped into the room."Hey, y'all, any a' y'all seen - "She 

stopped short when she saw Remy.

Remy tried to smile."Chere."

"Don' do it," Tuesday whispered.He didn't hear.

"Remy."Rogue nodded and turned to leave.

"I don' suppose you wan' t' stay an' watch TV," he interrupted 

hopefully.

"Ah, well, Ah'm lookin' for Joseph."

He nodded, his poker face hiding his pain from Rogue if not from 

Tuesday."Y' know, _American President_ is on t'night.We both 

wanted t' see dat."

"Ah'm goin' out with Joseph tonight," she explained awkwardly."Ah - 

sorry."She retreated hastily.

"Figures," Remy whispered as he watched her leave.He clenched his 

fists and squeezed his eyes shut.Then, suddenly sensing Tuesday's 

concern, he stood up."I be back."He left in the opposite 

direction.

***

"You know, ‘f I grow up, I don' t'ink I'd get married."Tuesday and 

Remy were sitting on the roof.The midday clouds were gray and 

almost marbelized; small patches of baby blue appeared in the swirls. 

It was warm for March.

Remy felt a sharp pang in his chest."When, neh?" he corrected, 

trying to sound casual.He held a cigarette in his right hand, which 

rested on his knee.

"Okay."She left it at that."Scott and Jean are in love, aren't 

dey?"

Remy nodded."Dat dey are."

"Remy?What is love?What do people mean when dey say dey're in 

love?"

"Well," he fumbled for an answer."It's when y' care a whole lot 

about somebody, more dan y'self, and y' want to spend de rest of y' 

life wit' dem."He brought his cigarette up to his lips.

"Oh." She thought for a moment."Remy, I t'ink I'm in love wit' you.

"

He sat bolt upright and started coughing."Dat's not really what I 

meant," he choked, taken completely off guard.

"I'm sorry; y'okay?"she asked, alarmed and dismayed.

He nodded and cleared his throat."Oui, fine."

"What did I say wrong?"

"Well, see, chere,"*How the hell do I explain this?*"Well, dere 

usually, on some level, de element of desire."

"Desire?"

"Oui, like sexual desire."He was blushing.He never blushed.

"Oh."

"Y' mama did, uh, tell y' ‘bout sex?"He almost held his breath.

This was difficult ground.They were walking on thin ice here.

"Oui."She could sense his relief."Do people really like dat?"

"Sometimes.Not ‘zactly like dat, t'ough."

"Oh."

Remy interrupted the strained silence.He held out his hand."Y' 

wan'?"

"Merci."She took the glowing cigarette.

On To Part 6

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ttrg33b@prodigy.com

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