Work Text:
Things That Go Bump in the Night
by heyjupiter
Logan lies awake, staring at the ceiling. The bedroom was dark, but his enhanced vision allowed him to make out the stucco patterns on the ceiling. He'd tried to find constellations in the white swirls, but not even his exhausted near-delirium could make a blank ceiling too terribly interesting. His healing factor meant that he needed less sleep than a normal person, but he'd been going on a week now with barely any sleep and it was starting to take its toll on him. His nightmares had gotten worse since he'd moved in with Remy, and he knows it's at least partly the fear of hurting Remy in his sleep that's keeping him awake.
Logan flops over onto his side and somewhat jealously regards Remy, who dozes contentedly next to him. Remy doesn't have to worry about accidentally stabbing anyone in his sleep.
Logan decides to give up on sleep for the night. He walks barefoot into the apartment's tiny kitchen and puts water on to boil for tea. The last few years in Japan had given him an unexpected taste for tea. He waits patiently for the water to boil, and waits again for the tea to steep. Though Logan has a temper, he's generally a patient man. He knows how long it takes for tea to steep, and he know he can wait that long. While his tea brews, he examines the kitchen ceiling. It's just as boring as the bedroom ceiling.
He sits down on the futon in the living room and sips his tea. He's surprised when Remy appears in front of him, looking sleepy and rumpled and not at all unattractive.
"Don't suppose you made tea for two?" Remy asks, breaking the silence with his soft Cajun drawl.
"Still some water in the kettle," Logan says.
Remy nods, runs a hand through his long hair, and saunters on to the kitchen. He returns a few moments later with his own delicate teacup, flopping down next to Logan and propping his feet up on the table.
"So," he says, after a sip. "You're up early."
Logan shrugs. "Couldn't sleep."
"You have a nightmare? You wanna tell Remy about it?" Remy has a knack for making things sound simultaneously joking and deadly serious.
"The usual things," Logan says, though he doesn't think he and Remy have spoken about their nightmares.
"Stryker," Remy says flatly. "Goddamn him."
"Yeah."
"You want something stronger than tea, mon ami?" Remy asks.
Logan considers. Sometimes alcohol dulls the edge of his dreams, just enough. But he knows they've run out of booze in their apartment, and he doesn't really feel like getting dressed to go out to a bar or late-night store. "Nah. Tea's fine."
Remy says, "My dreams... they're always worse when I sleep alone. But I think maybe for you, it is the opposite, non?"
Logan looks over at Remy and finds that the man is looking sideways at him. "I think..." Logan starts. He trails off and waits for Remy to make a joke. But Remy just sips his tea and waits patiently. Remy's rarely in a hurry. This trait sometimes annoys Logan, but at the moment, he's grateful. Finally, Logan continues, "Look, Remy, in my sleep, sometimes... sometimes I hurt people."
Remy offers a half-smile. "Shit, Logan, in my sleep sometimes I make the pillows explode."
Logan shrugs. "I'd heal if a charged feather hit me. But if my claws hit you..."
"Aw, cher, awful sweet of you to worry about ol' Remy. I got pretty good reflexes, though," Remy says cheerfully.
"C'mon, Remy, I've fought you when you were awake and you can barely keep up with me. What makes you think you could fight me in your sleep?"
"Got a lot of experience on that front, Logan," Remy replies, not even bothering to defend himself from Logan's ribbing.
"What, sleep fighting?"
"Oui," Remy says, and his face is uncharacteristically dark.
Logan regards his lover's face and thinks about Remy's scarred body. "Remy," he says hesitantly.
"You ain't the only one who's lived through nightmares, Logan," Remy says.
"No," Logan agrees. He swallows his last cup of tea and stares into the empty cup. Finally, he asks, "Remy, what... happened to you?"
"Ah, Logan, plenty of things that can happen to a kid out on the streets."
"The streets?"
"Remy was homeless. An orphan. Jean-Luc LeBeau adopted me when I was ten or so. I learned a lot from him. But I learned a lot from the streets, too. Learned about ghoulies and ghosties and long-leggedy beasties and things that go bump in the night." Remy sounds terse, his laconic Cajun accent coming out clipped despite his attempt at humor.
"Christ, Remy," Logan says. The thought of young Remy alone on the streets makes his blood boil, and he can feel his claws itching to come out. But the people he wants to fight aren't here. Only Remy is here.
"Y'see, Logan, a sleepin' wolverine ain't the scariest thing I've faced, not by a long shot. So if that's what's keeping you up nights, maybe you should try to get some sleep."
Logan looks up from his empty teacup and over at Remy. His handsome face has taken on a haunted expression. Logan wonders how many people Remy's told about his childhood, and suspects that it's not many. He sets his empty teacup on the table and puts an arm around Remy. Remy sighs and folds his lanky frame against Logan's chest.
"Y'gonna come back to bed now, Logan? Hate it when the bed gets cold," Remy says, his voice almost pleading.
Logan slides a hand up and down Remy's back comfortingly, tracing the knobs of his spine and the texture of his scars. "Yeah, Remy, let's go back to bed," he says. They leave their teacups on the table. In the morning, Logan knows he'll be annoyed by the mess, but for now he'd rather look after Remy than look after the dishes.
Back in bed, Remy curls up against Logan. The Cajun falls asleep quickly. Logan listens to Remy's steady breathing, to his steady heartbeat. He tightens an arm around his lover and finally falls asleep too, a peaceful, dreamless slumber.
The morning finds Logan well-rested and content. Remy rolls out from under his arm and kisses him. "Hey, Logan, you planning to sleep the day away or something?"
Logan lets out a low growl. He returns Remy's kiss, forcefully. "Don't have much on my agenda. How 'bout you?"
"Nope, Logan, I'm wide open all day," Remy says with a smirk.
"Just the way I like you," Logan replies.
Remy snorts. "Glad you got a good night's sleep, mon ami."
end