Down-Home Charm Photo Album Songbank Fan-Fiction History Books Fan Art Miscellania Links
Fan-Fiction >
Alternate Realities >
"Blood and Bone"

Blood and Bone

Warning: This story contains references to rape and descriptions of graphic violence.

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6

Disclaimer: The X-Men characters, and all other recognizable characters are copyright to Marvel Entertainment Group. This work of FanFiction is not meant to infringe on that copyright or defame Marvel Comics or the X-Men and related characters in any way.
Copyright: No copying, distributing or editing of this material is permitted without the express permission of the creator, K-Nice, under United States copyright law. Just ask, Iíll probably say yes, if not, Iíll definitely make pleasant conversation.
I must insist that people who are bothered by violence and rape issues refrain from reading this story. This post in particular does not contain anything graphic but there are continual references. Please, spare yourself.
For my Whitewolf, my beta/buddy. For my MaulSisters.


Blood and Bone

Chapter 2

By 6 am, Ororo had removed all traces of Remy's stay. Impeccably dressed in off-white from hair clip to high heels, she had coffee and rolls set out in the breakfast nook She was at the door before the first set of knocks was finished.

br> "'Ro." Forge had his long black hair pulled back to the nape of his neck, but Storm could still envision the way it fell about his shoulders when he let it down.

"Forge. Thanks for coming." Opening the door wide, she had to cover by leaning against it when he ignored her unspoken invitation.

"Kitty's waiting in the car. What's the urgent problem, 'Ro?" Feigning annoyance, the Technical Supervisor for the City of New York scanned his ex-fiancee's apartment for signs of her new life without him.

Ororo paused for two heart beats. If he didn't want to be there he could have told her so, or even just answered her question over the phone. Instead he suggested breakfast at her place. Unless Kitty had nixed the idea, he'd obviously had something to prove from the start. "The database keeps giving me an error message every time I do a fingerprint search. I did three different prints and still no results except "Malfunction" or "Record Unavailable " or some other nonsense."

"It'll do that for a while. We're changing the system over which is leading to a lot of silly malfunctions on routine searches." He quirked his eyebrows as if to ask it this was a routine search, but she wouldn't rise to his bait. "All law enforcement prints are being put in a different database. That saves a lot of time. Instead of searching for contamination prints left by shoddy investigating, the focus is on finding perp or victim identification." It was a casual version of a speech he gave to one department head or another at least once a day.

"And it keeps Mayor Richards convinced that he is responsible for wiping out ineptitude in the NYPD." Ororo's lip curled slightly, doing little to mar her attractive features.

"I don't play politics, 'Ro, you know that." He couldn't meet her cat-blue eyes at that moment, not even for money or unlimited RAM.

"Yes, I'm sure. Thank you for coming. Do say hello to Kitty for me." Detective Munroe nearly slammed the door on his outstretched hand, until she noticed the card between his fingers.

"Send the fingerprint samples down to me at this office. I'll what I can do about bypassing the glitches." The smile was genuine but only polite: No hard feelings.

"Certainly. Good morning." None here either, you arrogant cheating pig. Ororo turned to close the door again.

"Good morning, 'Ro." She sealed the door on his back and went back to the kitchen for another cup of strong tea.


Dr. Cassidy had already planned on working long into the morning, likely to the chagrin of her husband, who Remy remembered vaguely from the Academy. Her assistant, Jamie Maddrox sat at a desk playing solitaire.

Moira was examining the wooden spikes from the vic's palms and comparing them to the wooden crates Remy had picked up from the evidence locker. Shifting through a black bag full of assorted alley trash was a rough way to start the morning. Maddrox huffed and hahhed at his boss and the detective that was keeping them at the office so late.

Stepping away, Remy tried not to pace. He only wanted confirmation of Detective Munroe's theory. It would change the whole way this incident was handled and he had to have some solid evidence before he went to Summers.

"Yup. It's the same wood. Under the scope you can see the way the grains match up even though the edges don't. See, the spike has been smoothed down a bit with a rough file of some sort." Moira invited him to look for himself and Remy did, not really comprehending what he was looking at. He trusted Cassidy's judgment and she had given him all the information he wanted. "So, what does that mean, detective?"

"I'm not sure but I'm gonna find out." Remy shook her hand in thanks and made his way to the elevator. He ran right into Dr. Summers as the doors opened.

"Just the lady I wanted to see. Did Scott tell you about the new case?" Edging his way close to her so they would have some semblance of privacy, Remy kept his tone hushed and below the interest of their fellow passengers.

The stubborn cant of her jaw said yes and at length. "I heard about it. I thought I would come in and try to figure this thing out. " Her shoulders were set with determination and Remy would have sympathized with her discomfiture if his case wasn't riding on whether she was right or not.

"Just so you know, Detective Munroe and I think you were on the right track. He was finished, but something made him break from pattern this time. We were hoping you could tell us what happened. Or at least give us a clue." They stepped off the elevator together and he took her coat to the rack bef ore she answered.

"Let me take a look at what you have so far." Jean brightened visibly, no longer defensive, ready to tackle this new wrinkle.

Setting her up at a desk with the file folder, Remy rooted around his desk for the crime scene photographs. "Pics?"

Ororo stepped out of Lt. Summers office. "They aren't here yet."

"Did you find out about the error message?" He really shouldn't care if she still had a thing for Forge. It was her business, he was just her partner. Even if the lying dog was no good for her.

"Yes. Basically the database is confused by the print. Forge is going to run it for me sometime today." She tried to catch his eye but he was still casing his own desk.

"Listen, I'm gonna run down to the ME's see if they have anything and find the pictures. You gonna be alright? " He narrowed his eyes, trying to look past the calm and cool and see her soul rattling around inside.

"I've got plenty to do sorting these street interviews. I should have a few to call in for questioning so I'll be fine." She indicated the stack of papers on her desk and Remy winced. He really did need to do more of the paperwork, but she didn't seem to mind this time. And they needed those pics.

"See ya later." He grabbed his coat and hung it over his arm.

He was half out the door when Ororo spoke up again. "Watch yourself around Reyes. She's got your number."

Remy smirked ruefully. "You really think so?"

"I know so." Ororo paused. "Your badge number is a matter of public record." She ducked her head and swiveled her chair back into position. Bad joke aside, Summers was known to give rather comprehensive speeches that usually began with your ancestry and ended with your sexual habits when he received a complaint against a member of his squad.

"Ha. Ha. I'll be back."


In the sterile cold of the Medical Examiner's office, Detective Lebeau caught sight of Reyes behind Associate to the ADA Robert Drake. They moved away from each other a bit too quickly, but Remy wasn't big on gossip. Information, yes, but he liked to keep these trivial things as an ace up his sleeve. Mussing his light brown hair, Drake excused himself to the coffee station just on the edge of earshot.

"What do you want?" Reyes was all attitude again, not surprisingly. She had probably run into the wall of silence already, which only increased her general irritation with the world.

"Where are the photogs, petite? Forensics didn't have them and you were the first one on the scene with a flash bulb." Remy hung back, knowing how she responded to physical intimidation. He had checked the front page of the Bugle earlier to make certain Parker hadn't gotten anything printable.

Reyes turned away and snatched a brown envelope of 3 x 5's from the counter behind them. "I didn't even get them blown up yet, feo."

"I'll take care of it. Did you find anything more since last night?" The short report had been minimal, superficial. The final exam and analysis had the data they really needed.

"Yeah, lots." Their personal dislike was as forgotten as it was foundless. "It was hard to tell by the initial exam, well, you saw her so you know. Anyway, substance testing shows semen in the vaginal area, what's left of it anyway."

Lebeau stared in disbelief. Carpenter was all out of his pattern. First the rush job on the spikes, now he'd added rape to his repertoire.

Seeing his expression, Reyes forestalled his interruption, "There's more. The slashes across the skirt and vest are different from the ones on rest of the body -- a completely different weapon was used." Reyes handed him gloves and then the took the clothes themselves out of the evidence bag.

Turning them over in his hands, Lebeau examined the cloth. "Most of the body stabs were from a kitchen knife but the clothes have the kind of edges made by a serrated edge. Some of the wounds would indicate a rougher edge, but there are so many overlaps its hard to pinpoint." Forgetting about Carpenter for the minute, Remy started looking at the evidence with untainted eyes.

"I think she was raped, violently, and then the pig got wicked with his butcher knife." Reyes quirked an eyebrow, looking for some confirmation of her investigative skills.

"That's a possibility." Lebeau was distant. Knowing her explanation didn't account for the two blade types, he was already trying work up a new scenario that fit Carpenter's profile and MO.

"Something wrong, Detective?" Drake was suddenly alert, keenly aware of a case at its crux point.

"Nah, it's nothing, just caught off-guard is all." Remy pulled himself back into the conversation, charming grin in place.

"So, how long before you have something for me? " Drake made a point of looking nonchalant, but Remy was pretty sure he wasn't in the loop.

"Soon Drake, don't push it."

"Hey, ADA Frost is already on my back about this one for some reason." Drake looked truly baffled. In his eyes, hookers died everyday, what was so special about this one.

"Great, just great." Remy mumbled as he walked out, tossing at absentee "Thanks," over his shoulder at Reyes.

Alone in the hall, Lebeau tapped the photos out onto his palm, his mind churning. The itch-burn was back flaming his skull as he flicked through the compartmentalized photos. His hands stopped of their on volition on a close-up head shot.

White and red.

White and red on the same head.

Falling back against the wall, his hands shook has her tried to regain is focus over the raging storm in his ears. Straining to concentrate on the present, Lebeau was flash flooded as images of red and white hair burned across his consciousness.

Rebecca was in Sex Crimes, which had absorbed part of the Vice Squad under the recent restructuring.

Vice, which had undercover cops working to bring down johns, pimps and drug dealers.

Vice, which was out of the loop on the Carpenter case.

Bile rose in his throat. White and Red. He forced himself to look at the photo, to examine it coolly and dispassionately, but he couldn't call up his professionalism right then. He had to settle for not descending into horrified screams as he focused on the nightmare before him.

The face was bludgeoned and even with his eyes so hot, he could see the white of exposed bone against the red, the red of blood staining the victims platinum blond hair. The tension binding his mind and body stuttered away with a gasp and his flesh was suddenly under his own power again.

Panting with relief, Remy stuffed the pictures back in the envelope. Deep breaths failed to ease the continued tightness in his skull.

 

Continued in Chapter 3

 


Down-Home Charm / Fan-Fiction / Fan Artwork / History Books / Photo Album / Songbank / Miscellania / Links / Updates

Legalese: Rogue, the X-Men, and the distinctive likenesses thereof are Trademarks of Marvel Characters, Inc. and are used without permission. This is an unofficial fansite, and is not sponsored, licensed or approved by Marvel Comics.
Privacy Policy and Submission Guidelines