For Remy, there were different nightmares, different folks he hadn't been able to save. A sewer where the only survivor had been a small girl he'd taken with him, even when he usually thought he should have died there. A green lawn covered with crucified mutants.

Henri dying in his arms because Remy was basically Romeo in that particular failed relationship.

He shakes his head, raising his glass. "I'll drink t' dat, petite."