Work Text:
Outside Looking In
by Lucinda
Remy was sitting on the side porch, a little addition that was heavily shaded by two good sized trees, and there were a few shrubs. If someone actually looked, they would probably see him, but for some reason, most people didn't seem to really know about this porch. It was a place where he could smoke in peace, and think.
This afternoon, he was sitting there on the railing, one hand holding a cigarette, the other absently brushing the little supports for the rail. The paint on them was starting to flake and peel.
His attention was on the group of people in the yard, playing a game of softball. Jean and Scott, Drake, Stormy, Hank, Warren, Betsy, Rogue... they looked like they were having a lot of fun. He could catch a few words here and there, but the sound of laughter carried easily.
They seemed at ease with each other, laughing, making jokes... like they were all one big family. They seemed to have the whole afternoon, set aside or simply playing, relaxing together. It looked so peaceful. He could imagine going out there, joining the game..
But it wouldn't be the same. He could go, and they would let him play.
He wouldn't fit. They had their in-jokes, and their past histories together. They had this... bond, forged over time together. They knew each other, they had an understanding of exactly what sort of things to expect from each other. They all knew each other, knew so much about each other's pasts, their hopes and dreams..
"You realize they'll let you into the game?" A voice behind him, low, rumbling like shifting earth. Logan was the only person here that could walk up without him noticing.
"All depends on which game you mean." Remy glanced at the other man, one eyebrow raising slightly. Why wasn't Logan out there, playing ball with the others?
Logan grunted something, not words, but a noise that meant he understood. The he knew Remy wasn't meaning the game of ball that the others were playing. With that, he sat on the chair that had been sitting forlornly on the porch as long as Remy had known the porch existed. The chair was a wooden monstrosity, solid, ugly, and sturdy, slightly scarred by scuffs and long gouges.
"Sitting here watching them won't get you in. It won't make you belong, won't have you part of their family."
Logan's voice wasn't particularly loud. Nor did he sound as if he was attempting to tell Remy what he thought should be done. It was just a calm, casual statement, along the lines of a normal person saying that it had been very hot lately.
There was the sudden sputter and hiss of a newly lit match, and then he could smell Logan's cigar. Remy had never been able to figure out how someone with an enhanced sense of smell could stand to smoke those things. They had a strong, pungent scent, not exactly unpleasant, just... powerful. Remy considered Logan's words.
Family... that was what it was between the others. They all felt like a family. One big, mutated, confused family. They knew each other's pasts, their pains and their torments. Every dream and hope and fear... and they were willing to be there for each other. That was family. They were family.. and he wasn't part of it.
"Bet dey let you join, if you want." Remy couldn't quite keep his voice level. Had Logan picked out the loneliness, the slight edge of bitterness? Had he understood the desire to belong?
Logan sat there for a few minutes, puffing on the cigar. When he eventually spoke, his voice felt heavy with secrets and his own painful blend of emotions. "I'm not part of the family either. Don't think I ever really will be."
Remy tried to sound intelligent most of the time. He wanted to give an impression of charm, intelligence, and a feeling that he was in control of himself. All of that failed him at this moment. Staring at Logan in surprise, the only thing that emerged from him in response to that statement was "Ehhh?"
Logan was watching him, with eyes the color of dull winter clouds. "I don't belong, and it's the same reason that you don't. They don't know our pasts. No idea what happened when we were kids, if some maniac with ambition wanted to make us his pawn, wanted to use us in plans for world domination. They don't know about our struggle to master the differences inside, to fight our inner demons."
Remy looked at Logan, surprised by this observation. He glanced over at the bright sunlight where the others played, seeing their laughter, their enjoyment. "Soo... why don' you tell them all about yourself? You been here a long time, same as Stormy. an' she's in de family now."
Logan looked at him, not just facing his direction, but really looking. It made Remy nervous, as if the older mutant could look right into his mind and see everything that he wanted to hide. "Do you know where you come from? Where you grew up, what day was your birthday? Who your first crush was, and how it turned out?"
Remy didn't know quite where Logan was going with that. What did that have to do with any of the rest? It hadn't sounded as if Logan were trying to have him answer. "Of course I know all that. What's dat got to do with it?"
"They don't know that about you. They only know the few bits that you've told them, plus whatever scraps Jeannie and Chuck may have caught when you talk about your past. It bothers them not to know, even if what happened isn't pretty. Until they know everything about you, until there's been at least one horrible experience from your past showing up to bite you on the ass all over again, they won't bring you in. Of course, it seems that you're trying to get in another way." Logan's voice was low, not something that would carry, but as intense as the winter. It was as if he wanted Remy to understand his words, no matter what.
"What do you mean, another way? How else you think I'm tryin' to belong?" Remy wasn't certain what to expect from Logan. Logan had always been in the background of the group actions, the voice of pessimism that the enemy would have more guns, better weapons, and the need to plan for that. Logan had never been the sort to try to form close friendships with any of the students, or much of anyone, actually.
"Rogue. You spend your time with her, talk, flirt, bring her flowers. If they won't let you in as Ro's new little brother, you hoping they'll let you in as Rogue's boyfriend. That you'll be part of the group." Logan's voice was calm, as if he wasn't concerned with how others would view his words. As if there was no outrage at the thought that Remy might be simply using the southern beauty as a ploy for acceptance.
Remy didn't like the idea that Logan was suggesting. It was all to plausible, similar things had been done in other places. Was that all the other man thought he was doing here? Did he think there was some sinister plan? At even the accidental thought of the heartless scientist, Remy shuddered. "What kind of man you think Remy is, saying he just using Rogue?"
"Why use third person to talk about yourself? I know that you didn't come here to seduce Rogue. Not a safe plan anyhow, considering her mutation. What I'm saying is that you don't want to tell people about your past. You know where you've been, I can tell that much. Nobody knows where I've been. Hell, I don't know where I've been, my past has been wiped out, and fake things were dropped in, and those were half cleared out. If I remember something, there's as good a chance that it's fake as real." Logan's words had taken an introspective turn.
"They won't let you belong until they know everything. If they don't know, they won't be happy. I've watched with the other people they've accepted. You can't hide your past and belong.. it's one of the reasons that I will never belong here, not really. Date Rogue if you want, fall for her if you want, although I don't know if it would be wise. That won't make you belong, but it might smooth a bit of the awkwardness."
Logan's words felt to close, to accurate. He didn't know if he was guessing, but the words felt to calm to be an accusation. "Remy didn't come here to find a girlfriend."
"I know. You came to join up. To fight against the dangers... hell, maybe you think you need to atone for something or some other psychological bullshit. You aren't playing here, not in the field. That's serious, even if you cover it up with all that flirting and showy sneaky crap. My point, fighting, bleeding on the field.. it gives you a sort of a place, but it doesn't make you family. I've fought, bled, suffered for this team, trying to chase Chuck's dream. Nobody out there will tell you that I'm not an X-Man, that I'm not part of the team. But.. when they think of who to talk to about their hopes and fears, they don't come to me. They go to their family, each other."
"Unless they find out everything, you'll never be part of the family, just part of the team. It's a damn lonely place, on the outside looking in." Logan's words were low, barely reaching Remy.
With surprise, Remy realized that Logan's words weren't just about himself. Logan's words applied to them both. Neither of them were part of the family. They were both on the outside.
They sat there in silence, smoking and thinking.
end.