Who: Candy and Remy. (I hereby call they BeauBush.) What: Bill Quackenbush finds his daughter. When: Sunday, 10/20. Where: Their apartment. Rating: R for triggers, violence. Trigger Warnings: Allusions to childhood physical abuse, violence, gunshots. Status: Complete.
Remy was trying to relax at home - he’d quit his job, so money was a little tight, but he started shooting his part with Natasha in a week or so. He’d enjoyed the time off so far; he’d mostly spent it with Candy, house hunting, and running the dog. Still, he’d stayed a little on edge; they hadn’t heard anything more from Candy’s daddy. He knew the type well enough; he didn’t think the guy would stay gone.
Candy was on her way home from school, walking in the dark. She felt at home, felt comfortable in the dark, if only because she was aware that she could defend herself. As she rounded the last stair into her apartment building, she thought she heard something behind her, but she wasn’t sure.
When she was unlocking the door to her apartment, she felt something hard press into the small of her back, felt a familiar calloused hand take its familiar place around her mouth. Instead of whimpering, she went ramrod straight. Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck.
“Stupid cow, don’t even have the sense to yell. Let me into your place, and don’t forget. Now I have a gun,” Bill Quackenbush whispered. Candy did as he said, letting herself in and timidly walking toward the foyer. She didn’t have her feathersteel spell on yet. Shit!
He didn’t reckon with Remy’s enhanced senses. Immediately, he knew that there was someone with Candy, and he was faster than most people. He got out of his chair, going for his cards and starting to charge one silently. He didn’t know if this was some random mugger or her shithead father, but either way, he was gonna get a face full of electrical charge. Let the guy see the pinkish light from this room.
“Whoever’s in here, put away whatever you’ve got, or I’ll make my wife’s bastard here a cripple.” Bill’s breath smelled like Miller High Life, and Candy gasped. “He’ll do it, Remy. Please.”
Remy let it drop, but he didn’t reveal himself. There was no way he’d give the putain that advantage. He stayed in the shadows, letting his eyes shine in the moonlight. Let the son of a bitch think he was imagining things. He’d make him sorry.
Bill let go of his grip on Candy, pushing her across the room with a backhand to the face. “Go get me a beer, and we’ll talk about you coming home afterward. Your poor mother is a wreck. No call, no letter, no nothing?”
Licking blood from her lip, Candy muttered under her breath the feathersteel spell. She looked back at where Remy was and shook her head. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
It took damn near everything he had not to snap the man’s neck immediately, but Remy forced himself to play it slow. He spoke softly, red eyes glowing. “Gon’ make you wish you ain’t never born, mister man.” His tone was low and charged. “Ain’t no place in the world for them backwoods men, who beat on they babies.” The shadows were helping him; the moon was almost overhead. “Ain’t no match for the magic man.”
Bill chuckled. “The hell are you talking about? Of course, you can’t be real bright, dating my stupid excuse for a wife’s daughter.”
That was all it took. Candy’s mismatched eyes narrowed, and she spoke a word that neither men would understand. Bill was pinned to the wall, unable to move. “Remy? Can you call the police? We have someone trespassing.”
Remy sprang from the shadows, glad the distraction had worked. He stared at Bill Quackenbush. “I’m a lot smarter than you, boy,” he said, eyes never wavering. “I know what I got in this woman.” He picked up his phone, dialing 911. While he waited for it to connect, though, he spoke simply. “I wasn’t foolin’, though. I got magic in me.”
“He can’t talk,” Candy grinned. She sat down on the sofa, trying not to visibly shake even though it was a losing battle. Longingly she wished she had a cigarette, even though she’d given up about a month ago and was doing pretty well.
Remy spoke to 911, calmly telling them to send someone over ASAP. When he hung up, he looked over at the man now pinned to the wall. Without asking for permission, he hit Candy’s father, sending his jaw sideways and a tooth flying out. And he hit him again, and again, and again.
Eventually, he found it in himself to speak. “Can’t have the cops see him pinned to the wall. If we knock the motherfucker unconscious it look better.” He might have broken a bone in his hand doing that, but he didn’t care. Not even if Candy was mad at him.
Candy let her father fall after that. She walked over to him, crouching down. “You said it yourself, Bill. I’m not your daughter. I’m Mom’s. But I’m not yours. You may have made me with her, but you aren’t my father, and I’m not your daughter. I’m not scared of you anymore either.” She held up a hand, letting it glow with all the fire of a sun. “You see? So tell Mom you couldn’t find me. Tell her anything. I don’t care. Tell her I’m dead. Because I’m never seeing any of you again. You could beat me up when I was a kid because I was smaller and weaker. I’m not now.”
Impotently, Bill spat blood at his daughter, reaching for the gun. He shot it wild, ending up with the bullet swinging left, toward Remy. Candy yelled more words in Old Abaratian. A light field surrounded her husband, sending the bullet pinging against it, flying back toward Bill and hitting him in the thigh.
“The police will be here soon,” Candy murmured.
Remy froze, but it all happened fast enough that he could barely see it: he heard a bullet, then was half blinded by a sheath of light surrounding his entire body. When his vision cleared, he saw Candy standing in front of her bleeding father, and he wrapped an arm around her from behind. “Don’t faint,” he hissed in her ear. “Don’t you give him no satisfaction, Candy girl.”
He heard a whimper from the man now on the floor, and Remy kicked him in the thigh. That got Bill to scream, and Remy knelt down, getting in his face. “You ever come near her again, I break your neck. If she don’t get to you first.”
Bill had the good sense to curl up upon himself. Candy, for her part, stood up and smiled. She didn’t feel like she was about to faint. She felt like she was going to giggle. She felt free. “Don’t come back, Bill. Just don’t.”
There was a hard, sharp knock on the door at that point, and Remy grabbed the gun. “In here!” he called, training the gun on Bill. It’d have both their fingerprints on it, and Candy could vouch for him.
Candy didn’t have to hide her shaking hands when the cops came in. She pointed at the man on the floor, biting her lower lip. “That’s my father, Bill Quackenbush. I have a restraining order out against him, he’s been texting me threatening messages.” The cops would want to speak with her, and she knew that, but she wanted to make sure they knew what they were dealing with up front. “This is my husband, Remy, he got the gun away from him after Bill shot himself accidentally.”
Of course Bill muttered something about Candy being a witch, but the police just blinked and rolled their eyes.
Remy nodded at the cops, surrendering the gun, allowing himself to be ushered into the other room. “Is it ok if me or Candy goes to look in on our dog? Or can one of you all?” He did worry about Ruby. She’d probably run and hid at the gunshot.
One of the cops offered to and came back grinning, Ruby had given him a lot of kisses, apparently. Candy showed them the paperwork for the restraining order, the harassing texts, and the marks on her back. It didn’t help that Bill blew a .25 on his BAC. Candy was thanking god that this was going well.
Remy sat obediently until they’d gotten Bill out of there, after which he asked the first cop he saw, “Is there a way my wife can stay here til tomorrow or some’t’in? I’ll go ‘long, but she been half scared to death tonight.” He looked over at her, still a little worried.
“I’m fine, Remy, I’m going where you go.” Candy wrapped her arms around Remy, burying her face in his chest. She felt fine, but she didn’t want to look like she felt too fine. The officers assured her she’d just have to fill out a report, but likely Bill wouldn’t end up out on bail for a while since threatening her with a gun was no small offense.
“Hopefully they won’t keep me too long.” Remy held her close, hand in her hair. He could tell that she wasn’t a mess; she would have been shaking hard if she was. Still, he kept her close. “If you sure you wanna come along, I’m sure you can.” The cop nearby nodded. “I admit I hit the man, but he had a damn gun on my wife.” He doubted anyone would press charges, even Bill.
Candy looked at his hand, fussing over it for a moment. She went to the kitchen to get the first aid kit, splinting it capably and kissing it gently. She could tell from body language alone the cops probably weren’t going to charge either of them with anything.
The cops were keeping an eye on them, not letting either of them be alone in a room, but that was fairly standard procedure, Remy figured. He managed a smile as his wife helped to fix his hand. “Merci.” It did hurt. Hopefully he could talk to the lady doctor that Logan knew - the pretty dark-skinned British lady with the hijab. She was a miracle worker.
“Are you in pain? I could get you a Tylenol or something.” She looked up at him with tears in her eyes, mostly upset that Remy was hurt.
“It throbs. Think I broke the finger or knuckle where I connected.” Remy kissed her gently, cops be damned. “Ain’t gonna die, Candy girl. Don’ worry.”
“I’m going to get you some ice,” Candy sighed. “I’m so sorry about all of this. I didn’t think he’d find me.”
“Hey. I told you it’s okay. Remember all that for better or worse crap?” Remy grinned at her. It also ought to go without saying that he’d meant that threat - if Bill came anywhere near them again, he’d break the old bastard’s neck without a thought, and give the body to Logan to make it go away.
“I love you, Bright Eyes.” Candy tiptoed up to kiss him, smiling and holding his uninjured hand as they all trooped off to the station. It wasn’t what she was planning on doing that night, but it was what was happening.
“Love you too.” He’d been prepared for this, and he’d get a message to Logan and/or Scott after talking to the cops.
It didn’t take all that long - Candy was done first, and they let Remy go home after only an hour or two. A uniformed officer brought them home, and only when the cop had driven off did Remy let out a breath.
Candy let out a woosh of one herself, laughing from adrenaline. “That was fucked up,” she muttered. “Can you believe he ... why would he do that?”
“Power.” Remy shrugged. “Control. Couldn’t stand that you got out.” He didn’t care. Between him, Candy and the X-Men, he’d be dead if he came near Candy again.
“Well, he’s an idiot.” Candy sighed, moving to sit down and hug Ruby. “I’m glad she’s not spooked at all. She’s our resilient girl, isn't she?”
“It’s true.” Remy smiled at his wife and his dog. “She ain’t look none the worse for wear. ‘Cept maybe asking where her humans got to this late at night.” He ruffled the dog’s ears. “Tout va bien, princesse.”
Candy smiled, hugging her dog before returning her focus to Remy. She stroked his skin gently, murmuring a few words, smiling when the spells she’d learned from Lumeric’s Six started to knit his bones and flesh together. “Oh, thank god.”
Remy watched, no longer scared of what she could do. “Merci.” He flexed his hand, still wincing a little. “Ain’t 100%, but it gonna be there tomorrow or next day, prob’ly. Sure glad you can do that.”
“If you’d gotten shot I wouldn’t have been able to, but ... I’m just glad you didn’t.” Candy wrapped her arms around him. “I was so scared for you,” she murmured.
“For me?” Remy’s eyes shot up. “Candy, you were the one with a damn gun on your back.”
“He’s not a good shot, you saw.” Candy hadn’t let go of him, and she kept her eyes closed. “I thought he’d be more mad at you.”
“I wasn’t scared of no chickenshit like that.” Remy shook his head. “Girl, don’t you know I’d do anything to keep you safe?”
“I do,” Candy murmured. “Nobody’s ever ... you know how when you’re little, you’re supposed to feel safe? I never did until I moved in with you.” It was something she’d only just realized in that moment. She’d never felt safe from her father, like her mother would protect her.
“I had to find my own safe.” Remy replied. “I grew up with the nuns, and I knew they weren’t gonna let les fantomes get me or nothin’, but it wasn’t like having a real family.”
“I kept my mom and my brothers safe. They always say they have these awesome lives, this great childhood, and I ... well.” Candy chuckled, wiping tears from her cheeks. “I have that now.”
“It’s okay now.” Remy said, kissing her forehead. “It’s gonna be okay always. Even if he get out. Ain’t nothin’ gonna happen to you, p’tite.”
“I know,” Candy murmured. For the first time in her nineteen years, she believed it.