A/N - This is set in the fanon verse created by Tin Miss in the story Asylum. (However, I see it set a bit farther out from where her story currently stops.) Kudos to her for letting me play in her verse and for looking this over and deeming it post worthy.

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You've been the song playing in the background all along, but you're turning up now.

Say When - The Fray

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Remy LeBeau knocked softly on the door before pushing it open without waiting for a reply. He knew she would be alone and, at this late hour, that she would have most likely discarded the heavy clothing for lighter, skin bearing things. This was what he wanted.

Marie looked up abruptly as he sauntered through the door, hands already reaching for the gloves that she kept on her bedside table.

"Non, cherie," he said, giving her a motion to stop. "Remy came prepared, see?" he continued, holding up one gloved hand.

"What're ya doin' here, Remy?" she asked nervously, staring at him with a confused expression in her eyes.

"What with Kitty bein' gone home fer the weekend Remy thought ya might be a li'l lonely."

"Laura rooms with us, too," she replied, gesturing to the third bed, which was empty.

"An' she's not here tonight," he countered with a smirk.

Marie's brow wrinkled and she pulled her lower lip between her teeth.

He approached the bed and she pulled her bare legs up to her chest, trying in vain to tug the shorts and tank top she wore down so that they would cover more skin.

"Ya don' hafta worry 'bout dat, cherie," he whispered, looking her in the eye as he sat down on the bed, sliding until his back was to the wall and he was much too close for her comfort. "Remy made 'imself safe, see?"

He gestured to the long pants and shoes, to the long sleeve shirt, to the gloves. He tugged something out of his pocket and it was only when he began to pull it on did she realize it was a mask in the same shade of deep black as all the other clothes he was wearing presently. He tugged the edges down over his neck and tucked it into the high collar of his shirt. He turned his face to her and she saw that except for two holes for his eyes his face was completely covered. The young woman peered closer and realized that across the mouth and nostrils there was a thin mesh layer of cloth. She looked him over from head to toe and realized with a gasp that she could see no skin at all.

"What…" she breathed, staring at him. It was always her that covered up. Always.

He reached out and took her hand in his, pulling her forward.

"Remy…"

He placed one gloved finger over her lips and her eyes closed. His hand turned, folding so that the backs of his fingers could slide over her lips and up her cheek before straightening out to cup her face in his palm. One tear slipped past her closed eyelids and trickled down to soak into the material of his gloves.

"Marie?" he asked softly.

"It's been s' long since someone touched mah face, Rems," she breathed. The hand cupping her cheek slid back, fingers gliding through her hair and down along her shoulder as his other hand slid up to the opposite shoulder. With slow precision, so as to not startle her, he pulled the girl until she was sitting sideways on his lap.

He wrapped one arm around her back so that his fingers trailed along her waist while his other hand resumed stroking her face and tangling his fingers in her hair.

"Rems, Ah…" she trailed off. The hand that rested on her waist tugged at the hem of the tank top until his fingers slipped under the fabric and she stiffened.

"Do y' wan' Remy t' stop, Marie?" he voiced softly.

"No, Ah just….Ah'm not safe!"

"But Remy is, cherie."

She relaxed as his gloved fingers continued their exploration of her side. Sighing contentedly she twisted a bit in his lap and buried her face in his neck, one hand coming to rest on his shoulder, the other remaining in her lap. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

"Ah like this," she murmured. "Bein' held. No one's held me since I was a little girl."

"Ya don' much mind de gloves and clothes?"

She pulled back and looked up at him, a small smile on her face. "It's…nice, bein' the one who's not covered up fer once." The smile faded into a frown. "The hardest part's everyone shyin' away from me. They're afraid o' accidents. Ah'm afraid o' accidents. For once…it's someone else takin' precautions 'stead o' me. Though the mask seems a bit excessive."

"You wouldn'ta come so close if Remy wasn't wearin' it."

"No, Ah wouldn't. "

She was thoughtful for a few moments. "Aren' you hot?"

"Swelterin'."

She slid off his lap and moved toward her gloves, but a hand on her arm stopped her. "Remy don' mind de heat if 'e gets t' hold ya. Remy don' mind it at all."

Tears began to roll down her face and she curled up on the twin bed, trying to hide her face.

"Cherie…what is it?"

"You're miserable."

"Pardon?"

"To hold me. To give me some bit of relief, it's makin' ya miserable!"

"Non, cherie, Remy not be miserable."

She raised her head up and gave a sniff, which was closely followed by a yawn. Remy lay down behind her, molding his body to hers and she sighed, rolling back against the touch in spite of herself. He wrapped an arm around her waist.

"Rems?" she murmured.

"Oui?"

"Thank ya," the girl whispered.

After a while her breathing turned deep and even, but still he stayed, remaining awake and watching her sleep until the clock on the bedside table read three am. His time was up. He carefully moved away from her, pulling the blanket up to her neck. Remy brushed his still covered lips against her hair and whispered in her ear, "Happy birthday, Marie."

Upon slipping out the door he was met with a growl. Without a word he pulled a small wad of money from his pants pocket. It was snatched from his hand roughly and he continued down the hall, chuckling softly, as Laura stalked into her bedroom.