"Remy."
Scott Summers waited for a reaction from the teen. When he got none, the rest of the class giggled. Scott glared at them, but said nothing, because he knew they couldn't see his glare behind his glasses. He tried again.
"Remy!"
Still no reaction. Remy's thoughts were very far away, and it was going to take more than Scott saying his name to bring him back to the subject at hand, in this case, math. Scott didn't realize this though, and, getting more frustrated, he tried again.
"REMY!" He practically yelled.
This time he got a response. Remy blinked and looked up at Scott with a devilish smile on his face, his red eyes still looking preoccupied, but not nearly as much. "Oui?"
Scott was about to reply when he thought better of it and checked his watch. Class was over. He shook his head in disgust. "Class is dismissed. Don't forget to work on the problems from chapter five. We'll go over them tomorrow. Remy, could I see you for a moment?"
Remy nodded and waited for the rest of the class to leave, giggling at him as they went. He shrugged it off and looked at Scott, who was leaning on his desk, facing the daydreamer with his arms folded across his chest. After a few moments, Scott said,
"Do you find math that boring, Remy?"
"Non..." Remy replied.
"Then what is it? Usually you at least look like you're paying attention even if you're not. Today's different. What's on your mind?" Scott was twenty-one and while he personally didn't like math all that much himself, he tried to make it as interesting as possible for the students in his classes. He learned a long time ago that if things seem fun and interesting, they're easier to learn and remember. He just wished his own teachers before he came to the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning had realized it as well.
Remy shrugged. "Nothin', Scott. I'm sorry."
Scott knew Remy wasn't being honest, but decided not to push the teen. "Okay. Just try to pay more attention in the future. You may go. I don't want to make you too late for history."
Remy nodded again and sighed as he left the classroom and headed down the hallway towards his history class, which was taught by one of his favorite people there, Ororo Munroe. He didn't want to be late either. Ororo was a good teacher, even better than Scott sometimes. But this day, Remy found himself unable to concentrate in history either, which annoyed him and his teacher. He found himself having to stay after history as well.
"Remy what is wrong with you today?" Ororo asked him when the class had left.
"I don' know, I'm sorry..." Remy replied.
In truth, Remy just hadn't wanted to explain it. He had been raised and trained by the New Orleans Thieves Guild, and part of that training was the ability to sense when a member of the Guild was nearby. He had been getting the feeling all day that something was desperately wrong, and that feeling was also telling him that someone was coming to find him. Instinct told him that someone was Emil, and that worried Remy. He knew Emil hadn't arrived in Westchester yet, but would sometime soon, and Remy didn't want to think about the reception his cousin would get once he found the mansion. Knowing Emil, the younger thief would bypass the security systems and break in to try and find Remy without having to deal with anyone else. Remy's mind wandered to Logan and his keen senses, and hoped Emil would have enough common sense to just knock on the door.
Ororo's long white hair tumbled down her back as she shook her head. She knew as well as Scott had that Remy wasn't telling the truth. "Jean told me you did not pay attention in English this morning either. And you failed to follow Logan's instructions during your Danger Room session." She told him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Remy if there is something bothering you, you can tell us, you know that, right?"
"It's complicated, I can' go into it right now...jus'...you'll find out what's goin' on soon enough, if I'm not mistaken." Remy said. He could only imagine what his teachers would say when Emil showed up.
"All right." Ororo said.
Meanwhile, bus 1092 was quickly making its way to Westchester. There were more people on this bus, but Emil still had a seat to himself and was glad of it. He was happy he'd taken the bus, as well, because it gave him the opportunity to see much of the American countryside he never would have seen had he taken a plane. To be sure, if he'd flown, his trip wouldn't have taken so long, but Emil didn't mind that very much. The only thing that bothered him was that he was beginning to realize it would be dark when he reached his destination, and he had no idea where he was going once he got there.
However, the bus pulled into the station in Westchester in due time, and Emil had been right. It was a cool, dark night by the time he arrived, and he sighed. "Where on earth do I go now?"
Emil decided to just walk. He did his best to enjoy the scenery of the city but his enjoyment was overshadowed by two simple facts he couldn't ignore. The first was, he was desperately saddened by his father's death and felt if he didn't let his grief out soon he would snap. The second was more simple. He was cold, being unused to the climate of New England, and couldn't stop shivering.
He stopped at a bench in a park not far from the bus terminal and pulled Remy's letter out of his backpack again. "Merde." he cursed under his breath. "An' here I t'ought maybe Remy'd make t'ings easy for me jus' dis once..." While the letter was postmarked Westchester, Remy had neglected to put a return address on it, so even if he found someone to ask for directions, Emil didn't know where he was supposed to go.
Emil kept walking, wishing he knew where Remy was. He was tired and hungry; it had been a long time since he ate his last meal in Memphis and after he checked his pockets, he realized he didn't have any more money. "Great...I'm gon' starve to death b'fore I find Remy..." Lost in thought, Emil didn't notice the young man coming towards him on the sidewalk and almost bumped into him.
"Hey! Watch where you're goin'!" The other man snapped, glaring at Emil.
"Sorry..." Emil hastily replied, moving away to give the man some room. "Uhm...dere many mansions 'round here, d'you know?"
"What kinda question is that?" The man asked.
"Came here t'visit a friend of mine who's goin' to school here. Told me de school's in a mansion. T'ought dat was pretty neat." Emil explained easily, not missing a beat. "But he never told me where de school was."
The man thought for a few minutes and then a smile broke his features for the first time. "Your friend must be at the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning. It's on Greymalkin Lane. Keep following this street until you reach Lawton Drive. Turn right onto Lawton, follow that until you come to the fifth stop sign. Take a left at the fifth sign and you're on Greymalkin. It's a pretty long road, but I'm sure you'll be able to find what you're looking for."
"T'anks." Emil said, gratitude in his voice. He moved on, not wishing to keep the man any longer, and followed the directions he was given. Soon enough he was walking along the tree-lined Greymalkin Lane, absently thinking to himself that it was more like being in the country than in a city or town. He rather liked it, and in spite of his growing unease, which he couldn't explain, he enjoyed the walk.
At the mansion, Remy was talking to his friend Rogue, who had cornered him after dinner to demand why he had forgotten to meet her when their classes were over. They had planned on hanging out down near the lake, but Remy never showed up.
"Rogue, chere, I'm sorry...I jus' forgot, okay?" Remy weakly defended himself.
Rogue raised an eyebrow. "You promised to come with me, Remy. Ah waited for over half an hour for you and you never came."
"In case you didn' notice earlier, chere, my mind hasn' 'xactly been on t'ings today. I've been preoccupied an' I wish--"
Remy stopped in mid-sentence, a look of concentrated fear and unease crossing his face. His red-on-black eyes flashed dangerously. Emil was near. Very near. Remy could sense his cousin's presence and suddenly knew that Emil was in trouble. He had to go help him. Needed to.
"Remy, what is it?" Rogue asked.
Before Remy got a chance to explain how he knew his cousin was in the area and in some sort of trouble, the two teens were joined by Logan, who had decided it was a good time for Remy to make up the botched Danger Room session from earlier in the day.
"Hey, kid, why don't you and Rogue join me for a trainin' session? If ya actually listen to me this time I'll forget this morning's session."
"Logan, I really--" Remy began. Logan looked at him with a low growl. He wasn't going to give Remy any more chances like this one. Remy sighed in defeat. "Oui, okay."
Emil had found the school without much trouble, but due to his hunger and fatigue, his instincts and senses were not up to their usual high standards. He was unaware of the four young men following him until it was too late, not that he could have done much to defend himself had he known they were there. They caught him completely off-guard, just outside the main gates of the mansion, grabbing him and throwing him to the ground.
"That's a mutie school!" One of the older teens said. "He must be a mutie too!"
Another boy grabbed Emil and hauled him to his feet. "You a mutie like everyone else who goes to that school?"
"Non..." Emil replied softly, wishing he was anywhere else.
"You lyin' to me?" The boy asked. "Everyone knows only muties go to that school. Keep them away from the normal people! Good place for them, too. If you ain't a mutie, why you goin' there, huh?"
"My cousin...is dere..." Emil said, trying desperately to keep his voice steady.
"Good enough reason." The first boy commented.
"For what...?" Emil asked, suddenly more afraid.
"For beatin' the livin' crap outta you, that's what for." The second boy laughed. "You got a mutie cousin, that makes you no better than he is, so it's a good enough reason to punish you."
Emil squirmed and struggled to escape. He gained freedom for a brief moment before the four boys had him again. The largest of them held him by his arms so he couldn't get away, while the other three took turns punching him in the stomach and face. He faded into unconsciousness and they dropped him, finding no fun in the game anymore. Emil remained on the cold, hard ground just outside the property of the Xavier Institute, bruised, bleeding and unconscious for nearly an hour before he was discovered.
"Scott, stop the car!" Jean Grey exclaimed suddenly, having spotted someone lying on the ground near the gates.
Scott did as he was told, bringing the car he was driving to an abrupt halt. He didn't know why Jean had suddenly demanded he stop, but he didn't question her. His girlfriend was a powerful psychic, and if she wanted him to stop, she had a good reason. And that was good enough for Scott. It didn't take him long to see what Jean had seen though.
"Oh my lord...Jean is that a...?"
"A boy? Yes, Scott. Lord...he doesn't look any older than Remy and Rogue..." Jean commented. She got out of the car with Scott close behind her. Kneeling down beside the beaten stranger, she turned him over and gasped at the severity of his injuries. "Someone beat the daylights out of him...poor kid..."
"Let's get him into the mansion so Hank can take a look at him and get him fixed up." Scott suggested.
"You read my mind for once. I'm impressed." Jean said. It was meant as a joke, but she said it seriously, and neither of them laughed. Before she moved to allow Scott room to pick the teenager up, she gently ran her fingers through his thick red hair. "Where did you come from?" She asked in thought. She didn't expect an answer, and didn't get one, but she knew sooner or later the boy would waken and the question would be answered then.
Scott and Jean immediately took their visitor to the MedLab where the school's resident medical genius, a rather intimidating but very friendly fanged, clawed and blue-furred beast of a man named Dr. Henry McCoy instructed them to place him on one of the beds. Hank ran a few basic tests on his new patient, and while he awaited the results of those, he cleaned up the visible injuries. Jean stayed with him, but Scott had decided Professor Xavier should know about the newcomer. Within a few minutes, he had returned with the hoverchair-bound founder of the X-Men and the Institute close behind.
"Does he have any identification at all?" Professor Xavier asked.
"No." Hank replied. "We will have to wait until he wakes up before we can have our questions answered." A nearby machine beeped and Hank smiled. "Except for this question." He went over and got the test results.
"Well?" Scott prompted. The main question on everyone's mind, aside from the identity of the teen, was whether or not he was a mutant.
"He isn't a mutant, which begs the question why was he beaten up so badly?" Hank said.
"If he isn't a mutant, who is he, and what's he doing here then?" Jean asked, lightly touching the teenager's pale, bruised face.
"I t'ink I can answer some of dat." Remy said from the doorway of the MedLab.