This is a slash fiction, meaning m/m. If that is not your cup of tea, then don't read further. I appreciate feedback, but not flames.

Title: Origins
Author: Jukebox
Pairing: Logan/Remy, Remy/Logan, Sabertooth/Remy

Disclaimers: Doing this only for therapeutic value. Not making any money off it. All the familiar characters in this fic belong to Marvel & Stan Lee. I'm broke, so sueing me would be like trying to squeeze blood from a turnip.

Notes: This is an AU because empathy and spatial awareness are just too cool for Remy not to have. I want to thank LoganBerry, Lex, BJ, and W6C for making this story better than I ever hoped it could be.

Summary: An AU version of Remy's introduction and subsequent joining of the X-Men

Warnings: I don't know French or Cajun French, so my apologies to people of those areas if I butchered the language in this fic. If I put any in this fic, it came from online translators and La library archives. Because this is an AU, some of the characters in this story may seem OOC.

Words between / / are thoughts or mental speak
Words between * * are flashbacks
Words between ~ ~ are lyrics to any songs that may be used in the fic

Chapter 1

Late fall in Westchester, New York, a handful of leaves still clung desperately to the trees in the hopes of a few more days of sunshine, but most had already given into destiny and lay scattered on the ground, covering the landscape in a surreal carpet of red and gold. The view brought on by the changing seasons was usually appreciated by even the hardest of artistic critics except for one lone figure sitting on the lower limb of a tree across the road from the main gate of Xavier Institute for Higher Learning. Wrapping himself tightly in his trench coat he failed to notice the beauty of the season around him, abject misery clouding his sight. As he breathed in and out, the air from his lungs mixed with that all around him, creating a translucent mist that encircled his body. The temperature in this northerly region was not unbearable at this time of year; most residents breaking out a sweater or medium weight jacket and thin gloves as they enjoyed the last bit of nature before the onset of the truly brutal thermometer readings. But for a Louisiana bayou boy, the weather was downright arctic.

He was on his third day of staking out the entrance to the school; climbing down from his perch only to relieve himself in the woods or to make his way back to the room he'd rented in town after all the lights went out at the mansion in the late hours of the night, returning just after dawn the next day. Looking up at the looming storm clouds, he sighed heavily.

"Dis ridiculous" he spat to himself. "Dey s'pposed to be always looking for mutants. At dis rate, dey only gonna find me if I walk up to de front door, knock and say 'ello, I be a lost mutant.'" The irony of the situation was not lost on him. He was a master thief, trained in the art of stealth with the ongoing mantra of 'don't get caught'. Yet, here he was trying his hardest to be discovered while pretending to hide in plain sight. "Remy LeBeau, you just be too good at what you do" he laughed to himself bitterly.

He wondered to himself how he ever got into this situation and pondered his possible options for escape. On the one hand, he could just leave and disappear from society; he was very good at disappearing when he needed to. Shaking his head, he knew that path was not viable as he would be constantly looking over his shoulder and it would only lead to his death sooner rather than later. Not that it would bother him all that much. /Been doing dat all my life/ he thought to himself. On the other hand, he could join the school; build a trust and rapport with the residents therein, and complete the mission to which he had been assigned. Neither choice was very appealing to him. Ultimately, though, he knew that running was not an option. /Got responsibilities now/ his mind admitted as he sighed to himself.

"Merde" he whispered harshly, digging his hands deeper into his pockets as another gust of frigid wind blew through the trees.

Within his office in the mansion, Professor Charles Xavier sat in his hover wheelchair in front of a window, looking thoughtfully out onto the sprawling landscape of the front grounds. His hands were joined fingertip to fingertip slightly apart, forming a tent in front of his chest, as his brow furrowed in deep concentration. Yet, even with his attention primarily focused on the scenery before him, he was aware that the man known as Wolverine had come to stand in the doorway to his palatial office and was carefully observing the Professor.

"Charles…." Wolverine started to interrupt Xavier's musings, but was cut off abruptly be the object of his attention.

"Yes, Logan, I know."

"So what do ya wanna do?" Logan leaned against the door frame putting one ankle in front of the other and crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Take a 'wait and see' approach." Xavier answered, not moving but keeping a steady gaze out the window.

There were a few moments of silence as Wolverine continued to stare at the back of Xavier's head. Chewing on a cigar, he made another attempt. "It's been three days, now."

"We can't force this. It must be his decision. He will come when he is ready."

Moving away from the door frame, Logan stepped up to Xavier's side and watched the view with him. Time passed with no word from either man, but an understanding none the less. Finally, Wolverine removed the cigar he had been savoring and turned to face the professor.

"Ok, Chuck. We'll play it your way. But, just so ya know, the temperature's supposed to drop below freezing tonight and Ororo says a storm's moving in. Lots o' freezing rain an' shit. I guess she'd know." With that, he turned and headed for the door.

As he reached the threshold, he paused when he heard the faintest of sounds. Had it been anyone else, they would have missed it altogether. But this was Wolverine, his mutant abilities giving him hypersensitive hearing thanks to the beast within him. "Ok" was the whispered sigh. Grinning to himself at the small victory, he continued out of the office to prepare.

Rolling his eyes upward toward the looming clouds, the lone figure in the trees cursed his life. How could he be this unlucky? Not only was he freezing to death, and the temperatures hadn't even really dropped yet, but now he was about to be drenched under what promised to be a torrential downpour. He closed his eyes and leaned the side of his body against the massive trunk of the tree.


His eyes snapped open and he cast his sights in all directions, honing his senses to the slightest sound. "Hehn?"


The second calling made him jump outright, bringing his feet under him so that he was crouching on the limb ready to pounce; one hand against the tree for balance and the other fingering a card in his pocket. "What de hell…"

/Mutant, please join us within the mansion. You are welcome./

His red-on-black eyes focused on the noise and movement of the front gates as they opened automatically allowing entrance. "Telepat's…..Why'd it have to be telepat's. Well, I s'ppose it be rude not to accept de invite." Hopping down from his perch, he casually strolled through the gates and headed for the front door of the mansion.

He was not really surprised that a telepath had contacted him. After all, he knew the leader of this joint was one of the world's most powerful. What had caught him off guard was the evident fact that they had known he was there all along, but didn't bother to acknowledge him until now - a disturbing revelation to be sure. More over, he had half expected to be caught by one of the students or perhaps, the feral that constantly patrolled the grounds.

Strolling closer towards the front door, Remy mentally worked to make sure his shields were firmly in place, tight and formidable against any mental probe. If there was one thing he could not afford it was for any curious spooks taking a stroll down his memory lane. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he took the opportunity to catalog all the sights around him; as any good thief would do. The mansion he was approaching, for that's what it was, gave a welcoming impression as well as a sense of comfort and money. It was sprawling in its architectures; three levels at least, all brick and columns. Ivy growing up one side only added to the regal look. The landscaping was magnificent, very professional. Flowers and shrubbery were placed in various shapes and designs, giving a swirling effect of color in front and to the sides of the main building.

Yes, the structure before his eyes was truly magnificent and inviting to the naked eye. But, to Remy, it was a façade, a mask to hide foreboding treachery and danger. In his mind's eye, he could see through the layers to behold the real vision; a shadowy castle containing many secrets and unknown horrors, much like his master's fortress. Remy could still hear the words of his current boss to whom he had been loaned.

*"Do not be fooled young thief by the pleasant sights you will encounter. These people are the most vile and evil creatures to walk the Earth." *

Who was he to question his assignment? Hell, who was he to question anything about his life as it was? The sarcastic smirk plastered on his face only gave hints of the conflict within his mind. Still, he had to appreciate the aesthetically pleasing attempt the surroundings made to soothe any visitor or prospective investor.

Stepping up to the double-doors, Remy paused a minute to gather himself. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Slowly exhaling and gradually opening his lids, he raised his hand to knock. But, before his knuckles could come into contact with the oak, one half of the door opened revealing a rather stocky man with hair coming to point on each side of his head and a wry smile on his lips. The man was shorter in stature than Remy, but more than made up for the difference by his sheer muscle mass. The man stood there with one hand on the inner doorknob and the other hand on the closed half of the door, blocking the way. His appreciative gaze roamed down and then up the lean figure standing on the door-step, before he finally broke the awkward silence.

"Well, now, ya're one tall drink of water, ain't ya bub?" Logan observed, seeking out the eyes of the boy behind the sunglasses he wore.

By the look of the shorter man in front of him, Remy realized this was probably the feral he had seen from a distance during his stakeout. Of course, the fangs showing in his grin was also a dead give away. Not really sure how he should reply, Remy simply nodded and smiled brilliantly, flashing his own set of beautiful pearly whites. For a moment, he had the urge to say he was a lost mutant, like he had joked to himself earlier, but decided wisely to refrain.

"C'mon, then. The Professor wants to meet ya." Logan moved from in front of the boy, holding the door open as he waited for the kid to enter. Pushing the door closed behind them, he motioned for the stranger to follow him, taking an opportunity to inhale deeply and memorize his scent. Wolverine's eyes flecked gold momentarily and narrowed as he categorized the smell as sweet and spicy with a hint of smoke. /So the kid likes his drags, that's really gonna piss ole one eye off. Good start in my book/ Logan thought to himself as he continued down the hall.

Remy was following the older man warily, eyes darting back and forth to take in all of the rich woodwork and expensive fixtures. A few paintings hanging on the wall immediately caught his attention as his eyes flared with intensity. Unavoidably, Remy's mouth began to water at all the possibilities around him, making his fingers itch with the thrill of a pinch. He recognized the original works of art and instantly appraised the value as quite expensive, possibly in the tens of thousands. He realized almost too late that his breathing had increased and heart rate sped up at the thoughts. Bringing himself under control once more and mentally berating himself for the slip, Remy moved his gaze to the man ahead of him for any sign that he had been caught. If the feral noted the momentary change, he didn't let on but rather kept leading Remy towards the end of the hall.

As they reached the last door, Logan knocked respectfully. After a moment, they were bid entry by a voice on the other side. Remy took the opportunity to open his shields slightly to get a feel for what he was walking into. The study was rather large with a bookcase to his immediate right and several large comfortable, leather chairs to the left. Directly in front of them was a large oak desk with ornately sculpted legs and paperwork strewn on top. Behind this desk sat a middle aged bald man in a wheelchair. He studied them as they entered, his hands forming a steeple beneath his chin and elbows resting on the arms of his chair. Remy could feel the interest and wariness emanating from the man, as well as from the feral in front of him. Instantly, he felt a tingle at the back of his mind and snapped his shields tight, recognizing the nudge of a telepath's scan.

Professor Xavier's pupils dilated slightly as he was blocked by the mental shields of the young man that Logan had led into his office. But, he showed no other outward appearance of discomfort as he waited for Logan to present the boy.

"Have a seat, kid." Logan stated as he motioned to a chair behind Remy. Logan waited for him to sit down before he moved to close the door and lean against the wall with arms folded across his chest.

"Welcome to our humble abode, Mister…" the Professor inclined his head waiting for an answer from the mutant in front of him.

"LeBeau…Remy LeBeau." Remy offered nothing else.

"Ah, Mr. LeBeau. My name is Charles Xavier. I own this modest dwelling. My colleague here is Logan. Please make yourself comfortable. Would you like something to drink?"

"Non, t'anks." He continued to stare at the Professor and periodically glanced at Logan as if he were sizing up potential threats.

"What can we do for you Mr. LeBeau? Are you interested in joining our academy?" The Professor was studying the young man's features trying to read his body language and facial expressions. He noted that the boy gave him nothing to work with in his attempts to gauge him.

"Mr. LeBeau was my poppa. Please call me Remy" he replied dryly. "T'ink I be a little too old for school, Monsieur."

"Ah, I see. Well, then, perhaps you wish to become a sponsor? We welcome donations from patrons who seek to help those in need." The Professor cocked his head to one side and smiled.

"Non, dat's not why I came." Remy shifted in his seat and turned to look at Wolverine briefly before returning his attention to the Professor. "I hear you can help…. those with…..unique gifts." He stated, choosing his words carefully.

The Professor leaned forward in his chair, gaze never swaying from the boy in front of him. "Well, now, that depends on what sort of…..unique gifts you speak."

Lowering his head, Remy slowly brought his hand up and cautiously removed his sunglasses. He blinked a few times to adjust to the light and then raised his eyes back up to look at the Professor, waiting for the words of disgust he knew would come. The Professor inhaled slightly at the sight, but never turned away. Rather, he responded in a way that was unexpected to the young man. "Fascinating."

Remy's brows rose in surprise at the statement. The Professor motioned to Wolverine to look for himself. Logan pushed away from the wall and came to stand in front of Remy, bending down to look right into his red-on-black eyes. Remy flinched slightly when Logan brought his hand up to the boy's chin to tilt his face up for a better view. "They're beautiful, kid" Logan stated before moving back to his previous position on the wall. Remy's eyes followed his movements nervously and then shifted back to stare at the Professor.

"I assume by the sunglasses that your eyes are sensitive to the light. Tell me, Remy, how is your vision at night?" The Professor's question was one of interest.

"Yah, I can see very well at night, although not quite as well in pitch black. It helps to have a fraction of light, but it's not completely necessary." He paused for a moment before continuing. "You aren't disturbed by de demon eyes?"

Xavier waved his hand dismissively. "I have seen worse. We have one senior member of our staff whose eyes are……similar, in that he must always wear special glasses to keep them covered." He hesitated to give any further details in this first meeting. "Do you possess any other unique gifts?"

Remy shrugged. "Can blow t'ings up."

The Professor arched one elegant brow at that. "Interesting. You are a higher level mutant than most to have two mutations. How does your explosive power work?"

Remy asked if he may have a piece of paper, indicating it would be easier to show them than to explain. Holding the paper between his thumb and forefinger, it began to glow. After a moment, he tossed the paper above him and it exploded into ash with a little poof. With a lopsided grin, he looked at the Professor and said "Can excite de molecules in any inorganic t'ing so de release of dat kinetic energy cause de t'ing to go boom."

"Yes, I see. Hmmmmm…" Professor Xavier brought his forefingers to his lips as he considered the boy. "Is there anything else?"

Remy shook his head in response, lowering his eyes for a moment. Logan slanted a sideways glance at Charles.

/He's lying Chuck. I felt something else./

/Yes, Logan, I felt it too. But, he obviously doesn't want to volunteer anything further just now. Perhaps after he comes to trust us, he will share./

Remy looked back up at the Professor. "Do you t'ink you can help me control dem better, monsieur?"

"I think we can help you, young man." Xavier smiled warmly at him.

Remy visibly relaxed in the chair and smiled back. Looking around the office once more, he then frowned and asked his next question. "What it cost? I don't got much money, but I can pay my way somehow." The innuendo implied and the downcast eyes were troublesome to say the least. Logan stirred in his corner, a faint growl rumbling in his throat.

The Professor leaned back in his chair, his hands coming to rest in his lap as he considered the boy's question. "Not all our students are required to pay with money. We have other forms of payment that we accept" Xavier replied, deciding to see how far this conversation would go.

Remy's eyes snapped up to lock onto the Professor, then slanted towards the feral at the door. He lowered his head for a moment and sighed. Turning his gaze towards the window to stare outside, his face gone blank, he replied "D'accord. You tell Remy what you want."

Xavier shook his head, apparently coming to a conclusion, then narrowed his eyes. "Very well. You will be assigned chores around the mansion that you will be expected to complete. You will train with me and with Logan, as well as a few other members of the staff during your probationary period. If you successfully complete your probationary period, you will become a member of my staff and work for me, helping to promote peace between mutants and humans."

Remy's brow furrowed in confusion as he slowly turned his head back towards the professor. "You want me to do chores and work for you as a member of your team? Dat's all?"

"Yes, that will be sufficient payment. Once you become a member of my staff, you will receive an allowance, in addition to your room, board, and food." Xavier paused a moment and then asked, "Were you expecting something else?"

Remy blinked, and then blinked again. He shook his head and blushed slightly in embarrassment. The Professor took pity on him and indicated that Logan would show him to his room and take him on a tour, making a mental note simultaneously to explore his conclusions about the boy at a later time.

As they left the Professor's office, Remy started to place his sunglasses back on when Logan reached up and grabbed them. "No need to hide them, kid."

Remy paused, startled in the moment as he watched the feral continue down the hall. Shrugging it off, he followed and continued to observe his surroundings trying to get a feel of everything. Logan took him from room to room, showing him first the common room where everyone met to watch television or play games, then showing him the kitchen. The last room he showed the boy on this level was the gym, commenting on the sound proof walls so that kids wouldn't be disturbed by any late night workout sessions. Periodically the older man would turn and stare at him, making Remy slightly uncomfortable under the scrutiny. He wasn't sure what to make of the feral, having never had any good experiences with their kind. Briefly, he wondered if perhaps some of his control had slipped, allowing his third mutation to affect the older man, but constant checking of his shields satisfied that worry.

Logan led him to the second level indicating the two different wings of the floor as gender specific. In no uncertain terms, Logan informed the boy he was to stay away from the female wing after hours and without invitation. Stopping in front of the last door on the men's wing, Logan opened the door and stepped back. "This is your room kid. It's right across from mine. Ya got any belongings we need to fetch for ya?"

"Non, t'anks. I pick dem up later." Remy stepped into the room and gave it a once over, noting the sparse furniture. Nothing fancy, though that wasn't expected anyway. There was a dresser and small closet for clothes, as well as a bed with nightstand and lamp. A writing desk in the corner and a full length mirror on the door completed the ensemble. To Remy's surprise, it was actually quite nice compared to the motel he had been staying. He moved towards the window and stared out at the view, noting the grounds that extended quite some distance and a grove of trees leading to woods just beyond the perimeter.

Logan watched the boy with keen fascination, judging him by sight and smell. It was quite the intriguing figure before him, piquing his interests as very few do. He was a little dismayed to feel his inner beast rising in response to the sumptuous body standing with a far off look at the window sill. Logan had not had stirrings like this in some time, since he first came to the school and met Jean, an attraction that went nowhere and ultimately died to friendship. Snorting to clear his thoughts, he got the boy's attention. "Well remember what I told ya 'bout the girl's wing. And the third floor loft belongs to Storm. Ya'll meet her later. If ya need anything, just ask." With that, he turned on his heel and left the boy, closing the door on his way out.

For a moment, Remy just stared at the door. He felt some of the confusion and lust coming of the feral. It frightened and thrilled him all at once. Shaking himself out of his reverie, he fell back on the bed, surprised at the comfort in it, then sighed and thought about making a call to check in with his boss. But, he decided not to chance being discovered by monitored lines, not before he had the chance to tinker with the systems. Rather, Remy would wait to make the call from the motel when he went to retrieve his clothes.

Logan made his way back to the Professor's office and let himself in without formalities, knowing that the man was waiting for him. The Professor looked up from the papers on his desk and removed his glasses. "Well, what do you think?"

Logan plopped down in one of the leather chairs and brought one ankle to rest on his knee. "Not sure what to think, Chuck. I couldn't get nothing from him. But, there's definitely something else there, I know it. Hell, I'm responding to it unconsciously. It's like pheromones or something, though I'm not real sure. That's more Hank's area of expertise. It wasn't real strong. I tell ya this, though, I get the feeling it could be."

Xavier leaned back, bringing one hand up to cradle his chin. "Hmmm…quite interesting. He has some formidable shields as well. He blocked me easily. I imagine any intrusion into his mind without authorization would be quite painful for the intruder. Perhaps once we have earned his trust, he will share some of his secrets. At the very least, we should attempt to convince him to let Henry give him a physical." The Professor turned his head towards the window for a moment, eyes glazing over as he considered something. Turning back to Logan, he looked directly into the wild man's eyes conveying the seriousness of his next statement. "I need you to get close to him Logan. I am quite concerned with his thoughts on payment. There is an unpleasant history there we may need to explore to help him heal."

Growling in the back of his throat, Logan pasted an irritated look on his face. "I ain't no baby-sitter, Chuck." A few moments into the staring contest between the men, the feral finally broke in defeat. "Fine. I wanna keep an eye on him anyway. Don't trust him."

The last thing Logan wanted was for the Professor to have the notion that he had won. Without giving him the opportunity, the feral stood up and excused himself from the office in a huff. He failed to see the smile that graced Xavier's face as Logan retreated.

End ch1