"If you gon' come in, den do it, chil'." Tante Mattie said without turning around. She was busy lighting candles in her living room, and putting them on the mantle piece. The flickering glow gave the room a friendly yet somewhat eerie appearance, but it didn't bother Remy any. He walked into the room with a sigh and sat down, waiting for her to finish.
"Somet'ing's troublin' you, boy. What's on your mind?" Mattie asked.
"I'm a failure, Tante." Remy replied, sighing again.
Tante Mattie finally turned around, eyebrows raised, a concerned look on her kind face. "How so, Remy?"
"De unification is gon' be a failure, all b'cause I can' get Gris to see reason and stop bein' a jerk. An' I couldn' help Emil when it counted, when he needed me to." Remy explained.
"In de case of de unification, from what Bella Donna told me, de only problem is Gris. De others are all tryin' to make it work, correct?" Mattie asked.
"Oui…but Gris' an awful big problem, an' he seems to t'ink de unification will fail wit' or without him." Remy replied. He didn't like that thought at all, he knew everything happened for a reason, including his father leaving and the guilds unifying. The idea that it could all be worth diddly squat wasn't appealing at all, not after all the hard work he, Bel and the others were putting into it.
"True, mais, dere's a bad seed in ev'ry bunch, chil'." Mattie said softly. "An' in regards to Emil, I t'ink you might have helped him more den you know when you left him wit' de X-Men."
Remy was confused. "What do you mean?"
"Don' get me wrong, Remy. He's not better. But he is getting better. I t'ink it's gon' take awhile for him to fully recover, but he came to see me earlier an' he's don' better. De problem wit' him isn' de way Gris' been treatin' him lately, it goes much deeper den dat. He tol' me all 'bout it, an' when he's ready, he'll tell you an' de others too. He needs all de help we can give him. An' maybe more important, all de love an' support."
"Hey guys, can I talk to you for a minute?" Emil asked. He didn't look happy at all as he stood in the entrance of the safehouse living room. His arms were wrapped around his midsection as if he was trying to protect himself from some unseen enemy. He had obviously been crying and looked as if he would start again at any moment.
Theoren and Claude looked at each other, curiosity and concern mirrored in their faces. They moved over on the couch so there was a space between them and commanded in unison,
"Sit."
Emil sighed deeply and did as he was told. Claude put a hand on Emil's slumped shoulder. "What's wrong, kid?"
"I can' keep playin' dis game…I'm too tired of it." Emil replied. "Hell, I t'ink it's slowly but surely killin' me. Dat's a pretty good reason to stop right dere, non?"
"What game is dat?" Theo asked.
"De one I've been playin' since I was a kid." Emil explained. "I guess I had myself convinced dat if I pretended it didn' happen, an' if I didn' talk 'bout it, I wouldn' have to deal wit' it."
Claude was confused, but Theoren got a knowing look in his eyes. "Ah…I see. Dis whole t'ing wit' you isn' really 'bout how Gris' been treatin' you. Dat jus' adds to de problem."
Emil nodded. "Oui, pretty much."
"Okay, earth to you guys. Would you care to tell me what you're talkin' 'bout? I mean I know I was here for it, but a refresher for de ol' memory would be nice." Claude complained.
A ghost of a smile crossed Emil's face, but he didn't answer the question. Theoren had to do it for him. "We're talkin' 'bout when Julien an' Gris killed his parents."
"Oh." Claude said quietly. "You don' talk 'bout dem much, do you?"
"Nope." Emil replied. "An' if anyone other den Gris had been pickin' on me, I wouldn' be talkin' 'bout it now."
"You really miss dem, don' you?" Theoren commented.
"Well yeah. I didn' talk 'bout it, or dem, b'cause it hurt. It still does. I kinda buried it, ya know, so I wouldn' have to deal wit' it. De professor got it all outta me, t'ough, when we were in New York, an' he said it might help me get over my problems if I talked 'bout it. Tante Mattie agrees wit' him." Emil told them.
"Is dat what you were talkin' to Gris 'bout yesterday?" Claude asked suddenly. "Was dat your big idea?"
Emil sighed. "Yeah…I t'ought maybe if he knew how I felt an' why I say de t'ings I say to him, if he knew dat I hate him more den he hates me, he'd lighten up some. Lotta good t'inking dat did me."
"Don' be so hard on yourself. Like Bel said, all any of us can do is try to reason wit' him. He's not de easiest person in de world to get along wit' on a good day. An' he's pretty against de unification." Theoren said. "…Are you gon' be okay?"
"Eventually, yeah. I mean, I am getting better, but I got a long ways t'go b'fore I'm over all dis. I t'ink I'm for quite de emotional journey…"
"Long as you know you're not alone on dis journey of yours, okay?" Claude said.
Theoren nodded. "Oui. We're here for you, no matter what you need. De others will be too, once dey know what's goin' on wit' you. We're a fam'ly, we'll stick by you t'rough all dis."
"T'anks guys. Dat means more den I t'ink you realize."
By the end of the day, Emil had talked to the others about his problems as well, and, like Theoren and Claude, Mercy, Genard, Remy and Zoe all agreed to help him in any way he needed them to.
Emil had just gotten ready for bed and was about to turn out the light in his room when there was a knock on his door. He frowned at the clock, wondering who the hell would want to talk at such a late hour, and said,
"C'min."
Emil had been expecting his visitor to be Remy, or Theoren, or perhaps Tante Mattie, but he got the surprise of his life when Questa walked in, a sheepish, uncertain look on his face. "Uh…hi."
"What's up, Q?" Emil asked, trying to hide a sigh. He didn't really want to talk to the assassin, but he figured he might as well talk to the guy.
"Well, I actually jus' came from talkin' to Genard. I realized we never apologized to you guys for beatin' ya up de other week dere. I don' know if Fifolet's gon' apologize too, an' I'm pretty sure Gris won', but for what it's worth, I'm sorry." Questa said.
Emil blinked. This had been the very last thing he expected to hear from any assassin. "I accept your apology, but why are you doin' dis?"
"We gotta make dis unification work, right? Well, it might be easier if we cleared de slate an' started over, compris?"
"Oui…is dere any way you can convince Gris to do dat too?"
Questa chuckled. "Sorry. Don' t'ink so. Gris' one of a kind, he follows his own rules an' no one else's. Not even Bel can really tell him what to do sometimes."
"Ah well, figured askin' couldn' hurt." Emil sighed.
"Anyway, it's late. See you in de mornin' Lap…Emil."
Emil smiled. "G'night Questa."
After Questa left Emil's room, Emil turned the light off and lay flat on his back in bed, the covers pulled up around his body. He stared into the darkness, letting his eyes adjust to the lack of light. He allowed himself to think about his parents for the first time since their death, without anyone else questioning him or probing him about it, and when he felt the tears welling up in his eyes, he let them come.
He knew that finally actually grieving for his parents after keeping his emotions bottled up all these years would help him in the long run. And that was something he was more than willing to do in order to try and end the depression that had been gripping him and running his life.