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marysuevirus2024-05-17 12:14 pm
ladydeathfaerie) wrote in marysuevirus2024-05-17 12:14 pm
Among the Strong
Title: Among the Strong
Chapter Sixteen: Progress
Fandom: the Marvel universe
Rating: 18 and up
Warnings: graphic violence, language, sex, dark themes, anything else i can toss in.
Disclaimer: the recognizable characters and places contained herein are the property of Marvel. i'm merely borrowing for the sake of entertainment. no money is being made from this venture. Haley belongs todazzledfirestar Morgan belongs toginevra Roxxy belongs tonanaeanaven Jehnna belongs to silverfox_chan and Dare belongs to me. the concept and title of The Mary Sue Virus are used with permission from dazzledfirestar .
Author's Notes: this is almost entirely Daz's fault. okay. so it really isn't. its actually almost 100% my fault. Daz just did a whole lot of encouraging. this fic is going to be kind of dark, so please keep that in mind while reading.
Among the Strong - the index
She felt him come long before the bed dipped behind her. The link they shared had strengthened over their months of captivity and she almost always knew where he was. What he was feeling. Right now, he was concerned. It filled her head like some kind of cloying perfume that refused to fade long after the wearer had passed by. She wished she could shut it out, but she didn't dare. Some perverse part of her needed it. Needed to know that he cared, even if it was all a game.
The heat of his body pressed up against her back while one arm slid over her at the same time. Then the weight of his palm and fingers spread over the swell of her belly, the act possessive. It took everything within her to keep the tears at bay. Years ago, she would have been ecstatic by this exact scenario. Now, though? Now, all she could do was think of what was to come. Of everything she was going to lose when this was all over. A part of her, maybe even the same one that needed to feel his emotions layering over hers, wished that this would never end. That things would never change. But she knew that was nothing more than a pipe dream.
The unfairness of it all damn near choked her.
It kicked then, as if in response to her feelings. The baby in her belly. She couldn't really let herself think of the child as anything more. It'd never be her daughter. Never be their daughter. It was going to end up a cold-blooded killing machine doing the bidding of a certified madman.
"This isn't the way its supposed to be," she whispered to the pillow. Her voice was low and dull, hoarse with disuse. It was rare that she spoke much these days. Even with her companion's constant chatter. She caught just a touch of confusion through their link before it was replaced with something else. Something ephemeral and almost painful to touch. Joyful hope.
"What you say, petit?" Remy's voice was a soft caress against her ear. The hand on her belly rubbed circles, encouraging the baby there to kick again. As if they were playing a game with one another. As if this situation would end in anything other than heartbreak and tragedy.
"Nothing," she responded, voice still a whisper. She was careful to keep her eyes closed because she knew, could tell, he was staring at her face. He needed to just let it go, forget about it. Pretend she hadn't said anything. That's what she planned on doing.
"Dare." She fought the pull in his voice. No powers or anything. Nothing more than a gentle plea swimming in his bourbon-smooth tones. She'd heard it a lot while they'd been here. More often after they'd confirmed her pregnancy. Thus far, she'd managed to avoid the snare it was meant to be. But it was getting harder. Because it sounded so genuine. Because she needed it to be real. Because she was weak. His hand lifted and brushed her hair away from her face and neck so that he could press kisses against the column of her throat. They were light and teasing, meant to coax her secrets from her. Secrets she couldn't afford to give up. She'd already given him so many.
"How dis not de way it supposed to be?" he asked, the words a low murmur of sound near her ear. His determination was blatant in his voice.
"Please don't, Remy. Please. Just... let it be," she begged softly, doing her best to keep the desperation out of her plea. Doing her best to ignore the gentleness in his voice. He needed to stop talking. If he didn't, she was going to tell him what he wanted to know. Again.
And he was always talking. To be fair, Remy was a talker. He always had been. But it had gotten worse after Sinister had nearly killed her in order to get her to take that thrice damned pregnancy test. It had gotten worse, had almost felt more desperate, after she'd come back from her visit with Sinister. She swore she'd heard the desperation in his words a time or two, as if hearing her speak was the most important thing in his life.
She knew why he was doing it. She understood. She saw, as if from a distance, how she'd simply stopped. Everything had stopped when those stupid double lines had appeared. Thought. Emotion. Fear. Anger. Desire. All of it. She'd literally just stopped. And Remy was a social creature at heart. He needed to converse and touch and all of that stuff. Things she couldn't, wouldn't, let herself do. But she'd made the mistake of forgetting he was a thief, and he didn't like leaving secrets alone. Dare knew, after that night when she'd broken down and exposed her heart to him with thick, wet, clumsy words, that he'd vowed to dig the rest of her secrets out of her. He'd tried. Time and again. He was determined to steal all of her away.
Would there be anything left of her if he did?
That thought frightened her. Because she'd been there before. Been at the point of losing whatever it was that made her who she was to the folly of someone else's whims. In Creed's RV, locked away in a cage meant for an animal. Pinned beneath the beast in his bed. In Mephisto's version of hell, with the flames just beyond her reach. And now here, in a prison created by Sinister and his depraved desire to play god. To play with people like they were dolls. If Remy got his way and stole all of her secrets away, would she ever be the same again? Would she even still be her?
"Talk to me, Dare. Tell me why you hidin' in bed," he urged. She heard the concern in his words. Concern that always seemed to be there these days. Concern that he didn't bother hiding away from her. The child kicked again and Remy pressed his hand against the spot where that tiny foot had made contact. As if to tell it that he was there.
She could feel the wonder and joy he felt every time the child kicked. He was anxious. Eager. Like he wanted the child. He had to know that it wasn't going to happen. He had to understand that they'd never see her once she was born. They'd never get to hold her as a newborn and coo over her the way parents were meant to. He had to know. And yet...
Did he think she didn't want that, too? Did he think that she wouldn't want a baby that he'd given her? Didn't he understand that she just couldn't let herself feel anything? This whole mess had been an exercise in fucking with her head and Sinister had done a damn fine job of it. Of course, she was already fucked in the head. But that was beside the point. She felt like Sinister had done the one thing even Creed hadn't managed. He'd broken her spirit. Because, the truth was, she wanted the baby growing inside of her. She wanted it with the same desperation she'd wanted Dee to be Remy's child. She wanted everything with that same desperation. But if life had taught her anything, it was that she didn't get what she wanted. Ever. So better she steeled herself to the inevitable than to let herself dream of painful fantasies.
She wanted to tell him. She wanted to tell him everything. But she couldn't. She just couldn't. He should understand anyway. Shouldn't he? She was certain Remy knew what was happening here, same as she did.
"Dare. Petit. Please. Tell me what wrong." His voice was soft. Pleading. She thought she heard a desperate quality to it. And there was the sensation of fear from him. She wasn't sure what he was afraid of, but it pulled at her smothered emotions. Tried to dig them out and set them alight again. It took everything not to give in. Not to let the tears fall. Jesus Christ, she hated crying. Some part of her brain wished he would just shut up and leave it all alone. But he wouldn't. He wouldn't let her be to wallow. He would pick at it. Pick at her until she gave in and gave him everything he wanted.
She turned her face farther into the pillow, hoping it would act as some kind of weird shield. Both against his questions and her own emotions. For a moment, she thought it worked. Remy was still and silent behind her. But then the pressure of his hand on her belly increased and he inched closer so he could mold himself to her back. He somehow nudged one knee between her thighs so that he could draw the leg against the mattress toward him. "I used to dream of doing dis," he whispered in her ear. She could taste the sincerity in his words. Taste the sharp bite of bitterness buried under the warmth and joy. "When you were pregnant wit' Dee. I dreamed of holding you like dis. Of feeling my baby move in you belly. Of feelin' her kick. I wanted dat, Dare. I wanted dat wit' you. You know dat, right?"
His words were spoken softly into the silence of the room. They were so soft, she almost thought they were a dream. But the emotions pouring through their link told her otherwise. That want and desire, it was real. It had been real. She'd wanted it so badly back then that she'd cried herself sick more than once. Until she'd worried Logan so much that she'd had to hide it from him. And now Remy was telling her he'd wanted Dee to be his. To the point that he'd dreamed of curling up with her and just touching the swell of her belly where his baby lived.
The tears came then. It was one at first, a single drop rolling down her cheek to soak into the pillow. Then a second. A third. And then a whole waterfall of tears. She couldn't hold back the sob that rose up her throat. Couldn't hold back the emotions that followed it. So she pulled herself from his embrace and moved so that she sat on the edge of the bed, her back toward him. Why? Why had he said it? Why couldn't he have left well enough alone?
She'd been okay with being numb. She'd been okay with coiling into herself so tightly that nothing could touch her. She'd been okay with simply existing. Because then maybe she could have survived the hell that was still to come. Maybe she'd have been able to keep the small part of her heart and soul she still had left. But now whatever she had had left would break away with the birth of the baby. With Remy taking his place at Morgan's side and things going back to the way they had been. She'd be left with a gaping hole in her heart. Hell, would she even have a heart left after all this?
She wished she could run away. Or turn invisible. Simply stop being so she could mourn in private. But not even turning her back toward him afforded her any solace. Because Remy was suddenly on his knees on the floor before her. His hands cupped her cheeks, his fingers stroking the torrent of tears away. "Dare. You not in dis alone. I'm here," he said, a naked honesty in his voice that she'd only ever heard him use once or twice before.
Why was he so good at stealing her heart over and over? Why was he so good at breaking it time and again?
Remy stared up at her, hope bare on his face. She had no clue what that hope was for. But it was contagious and it made her want to hope, too. Made her want to hope that she could have everything she wanted. But what she wanted would hurt people. And she couldn't be that selfish. Better she be the one that hurt than everyone else. She could live with her own hurt, If she hurt them, she'd never be able to live with it.
She thought she saw the moment Remy realized she wasn't going to let his hope touch her. His smile fell. For a breath or two. Then it widened again. His hands tugged her tank up until the swell of her belly was exposed. And he pressed a kiss to it. That kiss was a gentle, tender thing that stole her breath and brought more of her walls crumbling down. And then... He started singing.
She didn't understand the words. It sounded like they were in French. But she understood the melody well enough. A lullaby, something sweet and loving. Something a parent would sing to their child to make them smile. To make them sleep. To let them know they were loved. She couldn't remember ever hearing him sing before. And his voice was amazing. Still bourbon-smooth, but deeply melodic and rich. She felt like she could touch it. Like she could bathe in it. Which told her that she'd already lost her hold on more of her emotions than she was happy with.
"Stop it, Remy. Please. Just stop it," she whispered, already trying to pull away. But his hands were there to hold her in place, arms wrapped around her waist until his mouth brushed the bump with each word and each exhalation. And even though he kept singing to the child she carried, his gaze turned her way and she was held motionless by what she saw in it.
The tears fell faster and harder. Because he was looking at her like she was his whole world. But that wasn't her place in his life. It never had been. Not even when they'd been a couple. That was Morgan's place. It always had been and it always would be. How could he look a her like that? How could he...? "Please, Remy. Don't do this to me. I can't..." Her words choked off on a sob. She found herself in his lap, his arms wrapped tightly around her. And still he sang. Until those words were all she could hear. Until they were a sweet, love-filled memory tucked away deep in her heart. Until she believed in all those things she hadn't dared to let herself hope for.
Dare put her head on his shoulder so that he couldn't see her face. So that he couldn't see what she was feeling. Sure, he could feel it through their link. But he wouldn't be able to see the emotion and that was the important part. Her cheek was settled against the line of his collar bone, her face turned toward the wall. It was a mistake. Because the next instant saw his breath glide across her ear a moment before he started singing again. And this time, each melodious note fell directly into her ear. She could feel the press of his cheek against her hair and the back of her neck because he'd laid his head on hers. Their position left her caged in his arms, unable to escape the tender onslaught.
And it was tender. The tone of his voice, the way he held her, the softness of his words. All perfectly calculated to inflict the most damage. A burgeoning sense of hope filled her, made her think that everything would be fine. Peace and love touched her, left her yearning for more. Hope. Love. Peace. Such fragile emotions. Such dangerous, damaging things. She couldn't hope for a happily ever after. Not here and not now. Not with a future horseman growing in her belly.
Dare pushed at him, trying to dislodge his hold on her. But it stayed firm, kept her where she was. Still, she pushed and pushed and pushed again. "Relax, petit. It gon' be okay." His voice was calm and just as soft as it had been when he'd been singing. Remy pulled back far enough that he could look at her. And his frown came immediately upon taking in the panic on her face. "What all dis, Dare?"
"You have to stop, Remy. Please stop. You can't do this to me. You can't sing to me or it or anything. You just... Stop."
"It? You mean de baby?" he asked, one hand coming to rest on her belly again. There was an answering kick, as if the child enjoyed feeling its father's touch.
"Yes. You have to stop singing to it. Please," she begged.
"Why? What's wrong wit' singin' to de baby?" There was genuine confusion in his voice. He really didn't understand. She reached out and put her hands on his cheeks so that she could look him dead in the eye.
"Because we won't get to keep it, Remy. As soon as its born, Sinister is going to take it away and give it to Apocalypse," she told him. "Its going to be a soldier in some madman's imaginary war, a trained, cold-blooded killer. It isn't our baby. It never was."
Her words saw a frown come to his face. And then he was just suddenly angry. She didn't understand why. But his fingers curled around her wrists and tugged her hands from his face, forced them down until they were settled on her belly. So that she had no choice but to feel the way those tiny little feet kept kicking at the outside world. "Dis a baby, Dare! Dis our baby! Not an it. She's our baby until she born. Sinister can't take dat from us. She's our baby. Made wit' love."
His declaration made her eyes burn with the urge to shed more tears. But she refused to let them fall. "There was no love involved in creating the child. It was the product of a large science experiment." The words fell out of her mouth without care. His words had started weakening her resolve. She had to do something to shore up the crumbling walls surrounding her heart. She had to keep her sanity in tact.
Her words saw his fingers tightening around her wrists. His eyes blazed with his anger. Anger she could feel through their link. It boiled within him, churned like the choppy waves of a storm-tossed sea. His lips went flat with the emotion. "Dis no science experiment, Dare," he growled at her, his hands pressing hers more firmly against her belly. "Dis our baby. Our baby! Why you keep denyin' it?"
His anger and pain battered at her, sought a way through her crumbling barricades. Tried to destroy the tenuous grasp she had on her own emotions. She didn't want to let them go. She'd start crying and she'd never stop. She hated crying. And she hated hurting him. But it was for the best because she just couldn't do it. Even if he ended up hating her for it. She couldn't let herself believe and hope and love. She knew how it would end. She knew and she couldn't handle it.
"Why, Dare? Why you say such horrible t'ings? Why you fightin' dis, fightin' me, at every turn?" His question this time was no less a demand, but it was tempered with a desperate need to understand. Because he just didn't get it. She swore the urge to shake her trembled through him. The way his fingers shook, ever so slightly, around her wrists said as much. She didn't blame him. She was the worst type of person right now. "Why? You tell me why!" His demand was filled with anger. With confusion. With disbelief. With pain.
It was the pain in his voice is what broke her resolve. "Because I'm going to lose the baby to that monster! And then I'm going to lose you! And I won't survive it! Okay?" She nearly shouted her response at him. She ignored the tears that had started falling again. She had to make him understand that she wasn't strong enough. Not this time. She had nothing left. "I'm going to lose everything and I'm going to break. And I'm not strong enough to survive it. I'm not strong enough!"
She wanted to pull free of his hold and climb from his lap. She wanted to go hide, shut the door to the bathroom and lock it and seek refuge in the only place she had to go. But he refused to release her. And it was a stupid idea, anyway. He'd just pick the lock and let himself in. So she did the next best thing and turned away from him, tipped her head down so that her hair tumbled forward to shield her face. And let the bitter tears fall without heed or care.
Just like that, the anger was gone. Left in its place was confusion. Remy released his hold on her hands. She wrapped her arms around herself as she attempted to rebuild the crumbled ruins of her walls. But there weren't any pieces big enough with which to do so. Dare was left with a shattered heart and a heavy weight on her shoulders. One of Remy's hands found her face behind its curtain of hair and his fingers slid so, so carefully along her cheek until he could press his palm against the tear-soaked flesh. "You gon' lock all de emotions away? Gon' lie to youself about you feelings? Gon' pretend not'ing happen here?"
"I'm not lying to myself," she replied, voice soft. They both knew she was lying about it. But she wouldn't take the words back and he was kind enough to not call her on it.
"Dis our baby, Dare. And you allowed to love her. No matter what happen to her and us," he said, his voice gentle and quiet. The hand that rested against her cheek applied pressure and slowly turned her face until she was facing him once more. Then his hand shifted, his fingers moving so that they could curl under her chin. She knew what he was doing and she should have closed her eyes. But she didn't. She met his stare head on and let him see everything she was feeling.
"I can't do it, Remy," she shook her head. Dare swallowed hard. Why wouldn't he understand? Why wouldn't he just let it go? "I can't. I can't grow to love her and lose her. It's already going to be hard enough to lose you when this is all over. If I start loving the baby..."
His hands were there to cup her face and tip it up so that she couldn't hide from him again. "You not gon' lose me, Dare. Why you t'ink you gonna lose me?"
"Because we're going to go back and you'll go back to Morgan," she whispered and allowed him to see what that would do to her. He'd unearthed her emotions, forced them to the surface because he'd been too curious. Too compelling. Now he was going to have to deal with what that meant. For her and for him. "Everything will return to the way it was and I'll lose you. Again."
For a moment, he said nothing. Simply stared into her face and sifted through the emotions there. The ones he found inside her head. Then he frowned at her. "You t'ink it all gonna be de same, Dare? You t'ink Morgan not gonna go back wit' guilt and heartache? What about Haley? Scott? You t'ink dey not gon' have problems when dey go home? Warren an' Jehnna gon' have to come to terms wit' what happen here. We all do. Not'ing gon' be de same, Dare. Everyt'ing gon' change. For everyone."
Rationally, in some part of her brain and in her soul, she knew that. But it was too hard to admit. Because that meant everything would change for her. She lived with the fear that this would be too much for Logan. That this would be the thing that drove them apart. She didn't think she could handle being alone. "I'm scared," she told him.
"I know you scared, petit. What happen here, it gon' affect everyone. It make sense you scared of dat. But I'm gon' be dere for you. No matter what happen. You and me, we bound together in ways dat can't be broken. Can't be undone." His hands still held her cheeks so that she had no choice but to look at him. But there was a gentleness in that hold that hadn't been there moments ago. His thumbs stroked the curves of her cheeks, occasionally catching a tear as it made its escape. The look in his eyes was so tender that it hurt to see. "No matter what come, I'm gon' be dere for you. I swear it."
"I don't deserve you," she told him. She hadn't done anything to earn that kind of promise from him. "I don't deserve you or Morgan or Logan. He's going to hate me."
"Who tell you you don' deserve to be happy?" he asked, anger touching his voice. "Me an' Morgan an' Logan love you. We not gon' leave you. Logan not gon' hate you for anyt'ing dat happen here. He gon' do what he can to help you through it. If he hate you and he leave, den he de biggest fool on de planet. You amazing and special, Dare. You beautiful. You deserve everyt'ing. And if he decide he can't deal wit' dis, if he leave you, den I'll be here for you. I'll always be here for you."
There was honesty in his words. It was woven into his voice. She could feel it settling into the crevices in her brain. He truly meant it. It made the tears fall harder. Remy leaned in and laid a gentle kiss on her lips before pulling back to give her a serious look. She had to wonder what he was thinking that it would put such an expression on his face. "You tell me once that you know I don' want you de way I want Morgan. But you wrong about dat, Dare."
"Remy." She got no further than his name. The way he stared at her choked off any more words. And, to be honest, she didn't know what she was going to say to him.
"I owe you an apology. I never tell you what you mean to me. An' I never tell you dat you were more dan just sex. Dat you worth more dan just sex."
"You..." she began, but stopped. He was talking about when they were a couple, as brief as it had been. That was so long ago, too. And she'd hurt him in the worst possible way. She'd gone from his bed to Logan's without a word. Without a thought. Without consideration for him or his feelings. "You said it wasn't a relationship. You said no strings, that you weren't ready for the commitment again."
"You right. But dat don' make it right dat I never tell you it was more dan sex for me." She didn't understand why he was bringing this up now. It was water under the bridge. She'd felt certain they'd moved past it over the years. She was sure he caught her confusion, because he stroked her cheek again before sliding one hand into her hair. She couldn't quite stop herself from pressing against that hand. "You always talk about what you don' deserve. You always wrong. What you don' deserve is someone who don't tell you how special you are. How much dey love you. How much you mean to dem. I don' tell you dese t'ings when we together. An' I'm sorry."
Dare could only stare at him. He sounded so earnest and sincere. She didn't know what to make of it. "Remy?"
"I tell you before dat I love you an' you don't believe me," he said softly. Gently. Seriously. She remembered. Vaguely. It had been the night he'd pried some of her secrets out of her. Her emotions had been all over the place, so she hadn't been totally with it. But she remembered that part. "It de truth, Dare. I love you."
"You don't have to say it, Remy. It doesn't matter because - " she started, but his fingers came to rest against her lips. Silencing the rest of her words.
"It matters, Dare. You been twistin' everyt'ing up inside for so long, you don' know what de truth is anymore. I love you. Dat don' mean I'm gon' stop loving Morgan. An' you not gon' stop lovin' Logan. But I love you. Maybe you don' feel it when we together. But it was dere. Seeds planted deep in my heart, petit. Seeds dat you nurture and grow over de years. Seeds dat blossom into a beautiful garden. I don' know how you never see it. But it dere. I love you."
She wanted to open her mouth and say something. To deny his words or to tell him that he didn't have to pretend for her sake. But he never gave her the opportunity. His mouth covers hers with a kiss that was heady and determined. At the same time, he caught hold of one of her hands and brought it to his chest. Settled it over his heart. She could feel the organ thumping in his chest, hard and heavy and a little fast. More than that, his emotions poured into her until she felt like she was drowning. There was affection there, yes. but it was nearly buried under a river of love. That love was sticky and cloying, coating every part of her it touched.
And then she was wrapped around him, her arms curled tight around his neck while he plundered her mouth with his own. While he dipped his tongue into it so that he could taste every inch of it. So that he could tease her own tongue with it. When they finally broke apart, it was so they could both suck air into their lungs. And Dare could only stare up at him in wonder.
Because he meant it. He really did love her.
"Don' hide from me anymore, petit," he whispered. She heard the fear in his voice. Fear that he'd lose her to her own mind. Fear that she'd leave him alone here.
"I'll try, Rem," she promised. The words and her voice were breathy. They trembled. When she spoke and when they hung in the air between the two of them. "Its so hard, though. Knowing what's going to happen..."
He watched as she settled her hands on her belly. It was the first time she'd made the move to touch it herself. The baby, the child they'd created, reacted to her touch and kicked. Hard enough to leave her a little breathless.
His hands covered her own. Leant her his strength. "I know. But we gon' face dis together. An' I'm gon' keep singin'. To you and to our baby. De circumstances of her creation not her fault. And she deserve good t'ings, like her mother. Our baby deserve somet'ing good while we can still give it to her. So I'm gon' sing to her. And we gon' love her while we got her, Dare."
"Okay," Dare nodded. She let Remy pull her into his arms, her back pressed to his chest, and he wrapped them around her so that his hands rested on her belly. Over hers. Together, they sat like that and felt the way their child moved and about kicked.
And he sang, his voice smooth and sweet and filled with love.
~*~
The light from the screen reflected off the broad smile that stretched his lips. Finally. It had taken much longer than he'd expected. But it had finally happened. The Cajun thief had finally broken through the armor of sorrow that Xavier's pyrokinetic had worn for far too long. He'd started to think she would outlast the man's charm and this entire experiment of his. After spying on them and enjoying the impromptu concert a little longer, he turned his attention away from the feed to stare across his lab.
It had been months since he'd had his toys to the lab. Months since he'd had them perform their tricks for him. There was a part of him that wanted to bring them back and have them do so one more time. He was curious to see what kind of unique positions they might take in order to amuse him without bringing harm to the children they'd created.
His female toys were starting to move into their third trimesters. There would be little time left for him to enjoy their misery. His experiment was almost at an end, his goal almost met. Would that he had more time.
For a moment, just one or two, he considered keeping his pets. They could produce an army of genetically perfect mutants for Apocalypse. But the thought was quickly discarded. It would do none of them any good. Rebellious natures would rise up time and again. Eventually, someone would die.
He recalled the way the pyrokinetic had lunged for him when he'd visited her and the thief to insist she take an unnecessary pregnancy test. How it had felt to have her life literally hanging in the balance. She'd stared him down, the knowledge that she was going to die crowded into her eyes with her own burning hatred. She'd been correct that day. She was as close to a god as he'd likely ever see. They all were, in their own ways. He'd secretly been grateful that the thief had talked sense into her. It would have been a shame to have to end things because the girl couldn't see fit to behave like the obedient little tool she was meant to be.
His toys. His gaze strayed to the wall of screens again. Each of them showed some odd scene of domesticity playing out between all of his dolls. The Cajun had concluded his song so that he and the pyrokinetic sat in companionable silence. Both his and her hands were settled on her swollen belly. Such a pretty little scene. As if aware they were being spied on, the thief's odd eyes rolled up to stare in the direction of the camera. He could see a promise in those eyes, a promise that echoed the threat he'd issued three months ago.
Let the man try to make good on his promise. No one would find this lab.
His gaze slid along to the next screen to find the couple on it sitting on the love seat with a book in hand. The next couple had curled around one another in the bed, his hands gliding over the swell of one calf. And the last couple was lost in conversation about what it would be like if they were allowed to raise their child together.
There was misery in each action, though it was subtle. For him, it was akin to drinking a fine wine. He loved their suffering and again gave thought to extending it. Again, he put the notion aside in order to keep the end goal in sight. And it wasn't as if he couldn't simply grab them again, if he needed them. Though he'd have to be careful if he did so. It would be easy to break their minds if he tried to play with them again too soon. They'd need time to bury their memories of their time here. He would need them carefree and at ease if he wanted to grab them a second time.
He put that thought away. It was something to consider for another time. For now, he shifted his focus away from his monitors and toward the glow coming from the other end of the lab. It was a soft glow, barely bright enough to reach him on this side. But it was enough to see his smile stretch further. He had so much more to deal with than his toys. They were secure in their cages and they would remain so until he said otherwise.
For now, he would focus on his new experiment. There was so much to do. And so little time to do it.
Chapter Sixteen: Progress
Fandom: the Marvel universe
Rating: 18 and up
Warnings: graphic violence, language, sex, dark themes, anything else i can toss in.
Disclaimer: the recognizable characters and places contained herein are the property of Marvel. i'm merely borrowing for the sake of entertainment. no money is being made from this venture. Haley belongs to
dazzledfirestar Morgan belongs toginevra Roxxy belongs tonanaeanaven Jehnna belongs to silverfox_chan and Dare belongs to me. the concept and title of The Mary Sue Virus are used with permission from dazzledfirestar . Author's Notes: this is almost entirely Daz's fault. okay. so it really isn't. its actually almost 100% my fault. Daz just did a whole lot of encouraging. this fic is going to be kind of dark, so please keep that in mind while reading.
Among the Strong - the index
She felt him come long before the bed dipped behind her. The link they shared had strengthened over their months of captivity and she almost always knew where he was. What he was feeling. Right now, he was concerned. It filled her head like some kind of cloying perfume that refused to fade long after the wearer had passed by. She wished she could shut it out, but she didn't dare. Some perverse part of her needed it. Needed to know that he cared, even if it was all a game.
The heat of his body pressed up against her back while one arm slid over her at the same time. Then the weight of his palm and fingers spread over the swell of her belly, the act possessive. It took everything within her to keep the tears at bay. Years ago, she would have been ecstatic by this exact scenario. Now, though? Now, all she could do was think of what was to come. Of everything she was going to lose when this was all over. A part of her, maybe even the same one that needed to feel his emotions layering over hers, wished that this would never end. That things would never change. But she knew that was nothing more than a pipe dream.
The unfairness of it all damn near choked her.
It kicked then, as if in response to her feelings. The baby in her belly. She couldn't really let herself think of the child as anything more. It'd never be her daughter. Never be their daughter. It was going to end up a cold-blooded killing machine doing the bidding of a certified madman.
"This isn't the way its supposed to be," she whispered to the pillow. Her voice was low and dull, hoarse with disuse. It was rare that she spoke much these days. Even with her companion's constant chatter. She caught just a touch of confusion through their link before it was replaced with something else. Something ephemeral and almost painful to touch. Joyful hope.
"What you say, petit?" Remy's voice was a soft caress against her ear. The hand on her belly rubbed circles, encouraging the baby there to kick again. As if they were playing a game with one another. As if this situation would end in anything other than heartbreak and tragedy.
"Nothing," she responded, voice still a whisper. She was careful to keep her eyes closed because she knew, could tell, he was staring at her face. He needed to just let it go, forget about it. Pretend she hadn't said anything. That's what she planned on doing.
"Dare." She fought the pull in his voice. No powers or anything. Nothing more than a gentle plea swimming in his bourbon-smooth tones. She'd heard it a lot while they'd been here. More often after they'd confirmed her pregnancy. Thus far, she'd managed to avoid the snare it was meant to be. But it was getting harder. Because it sounded so genuine. Because she needed it to be real. Because she was weak. His hand lifted and brushed her hair away from her face and neck so that he could press kisses against the column of her throat. They were light and teasing, meant to coax her secrets from her. Secrets she couldn't afford to give up. She'd already given him so many.
"How dis not de way it supposed to be?" he asked, the words a low murmur of sound near her ear. His determination was blatant in his voice.
"Please don't, Remy. Please. Just... let it be," she begged softly, doing her best to keep the desperation out of her plea. Doing her best to ignore the gentleness in his voice. He needed to stop talking. If he didn't, she was going to tell him what he wanted to know. Again.
And he was always talking. To be fair, Remy was a talker. He always had been. But it had gotten worse after Sinister had nearly killed her in order to get her to take that thrice damned pregnancy test. It had gotten worse, had almost felt more desperate, after she'd come back from her visit with Sinister. She swore she'd heard the desperation in his words a time or two, as if hearing her speak was the most important thing in his life.
She knew why he was doing it. She understood. She saw, as if from a distance, how she'd simply stopped. Everything had stopped when those stupid double lines had appeared. Thought. Emotion. Fear. Anger. Desire. All of it. She'd literally just stopped. And Remy was a social creature at heart. He needed to converse and touch and all of that stuff. Things she couldn't, wouldn't, let herself do. But she'd made the mistake of forgetting he was a thief, and he didn't like leaving secrets alone. Dare knew, after that night when she'd broken down and exposed her heart to him with thick, wet, clumsy words, that he'd vowed to dig the rest of her secrets out of her. He'd tried. Time and again. He was determined to steal all of her away.
Would there be anything left of her if he did?
That thought frightened her. Because she'd been there before. Been at the point of losing whatever it was that made her who she was to the folly of someone else's whims. In Creed's RV, locked away in a cage meant for an animal. Pinned beneath the beast in his bed. In Mephisto's version of hell, with the flames just beyond her reach. And now here, in a prison created by Sinister and his depraved desire to play god. To play with people like they were dolls. If Remy got his way and stole all of her secrets away, would she ever be the same again? Would she even still be her?
"Talk to me, Dare. Tell me why you hidin' in bed," he urged. She heard the concern in his words. Concern that always seemed to be there these days. Concern that he didn't bother hiding away from her. The child kicked again and Remy pressed his hand against the spot where that tiny foot had made contact. As if to tell it that he was there.
She could feel the wonder and joy he felt every time the child kicked. He was anxious. Eager. Like he wanted the child. He had to know that it wasn't going to happen. He had to understand that they'd never see her once she was born. They'd never get to hold her as a newborn and coo over her the way parents were meant to. He had to know. And yet...
Did he think she didn't want that, too? Did he think that she wouldn't want a baby that he'd given her? Didn't he understand that she just couldn't let herself feel anything? This whole mess had been an exercise in fucking with her head and Sinister had done a damn fine job of it. Of course, she was already fucked in the head. But that was beside the point. She felt like Sinister had done the one thing even Creed hadn't managed. He'd broken her spirit. Because, the truth was, she wanted the baby growing inside of her. She wanted it with the same desperation she'd wanted Dee to be Remy's child. She wanted everything with that same desperation. But if life had taught her anything, it was that she didn't get what she wanted. Ever. So better she steeled herself to the inevitable than to let herself dream of painful fantasies.
She wanted to tell him. She wanted to tell him everything. But she couldn't. She just couldn't. He should understand anyway. Shouldn't he? She was certain Remy knew what was happening here, same as she did.
"Dare. Petit. Please. Tell me what wrong." His voice was soft. Pleading. She thought she heard a desperate quality to it. And there was the sensation of fear from him. She wasn't sure what he was afraid of, but it pulled at her smothered emotions. Tried to dig them out and set them alight again. It took everything not to give in. Not to let the tears fall. Jesus Christ, she hated crying. Some part of her brain wished he would just shut up and leave it all alone. But he wouldn't. He wouldn't let her be to wallow. He would pick at it. Pick at her until she gave in and gave him everything he wanted.
She turned her face farther into the pillow, hoping it would act as some kind of weird shield. Both against his questions and her own emotions. For a moment, she thought it worked. Remy was still and silent behind her. But then the pressure of his hand on her belly increased and he inched closer so he could mold himself to her back. He somehow nudged one knee between her thighs so that he could draw the leg against the mattress toward him. "I used to dream of doing dis," he whispered in her ear. She could taste the sincerity in his words. Taste the sharp bite of bitterness buried under the warmth and joy. "When you were pregnant wit' Dee. I dreamed of holding you like dis. Of feeling my baby move in you belly. Of feelin' her kick. I wanted dat, Dare. I wanted dat wit' you. You know dat, right?"
His words were spoken softly into the silence of the room. They were so soft, she almost thought they were a dream. But the emotions pouring through their link told her otherwise. That want and desire, it was real. It had been real. She'd wanted it so badly back then that she'd cried herself sick more than once. Until she'd worried Logan so much that she'd had to hide it from him. And now Remy was telling her he'd wanted Dee to be his. To the point that he'd dreamed of curling up with her and just touching the swell of her belly where his baby lived.
The tears came then. It was one at first, a single drop rolling down her cheek to soak into the pillow. Then a second. A third. And then a whole waterfall of tears. She couldn't hold back the sob that rose up her throat. Couldn't hold back the emotions that followed it. So she pulled herself from his embrace and moved so that she sat on the edge of the bed, her back toward him. Why? Why had he said it? Why couldn't he have left well enough alone?
She'd been okay with being numb. She'd been okay with coiling into herself so tightly that nothing could touch her. She'd been okay with simply existing. Because then maybe she could have survived the hell that was still to come. Maybe she'd have been able to keep the small part of her heart and soul she still had left. But now whatever she had had left would break away with the birth of the baby. With Remy taking his place at Morgan's side and things going back to the way they had been. She'd be left with a gaping hole in her heart. Hell, would she even have a heart left after all this?
She wished she could run away. Or turn invisible. Simply stop being so she could mourn in private. But not even turning her back toward him afforded her any solace. Because Remy was suddenly on his knees on the floor before her. His hands cupped her cheeks, his fingers stroking the torrent of tears away. "Dare. You not in dis alone. I'm here," he said, a naked honesty in his voice that she'd only ever heard him use once or twice before.
Why was he so good at stealing her heart over and over? Why was he so good at breaking it time and again?
Remy stared up at her, hope bare on his face. She had no clue what that hope was for. But it was contagious and it made her want to hope, too. Made her want to hope that she could have everything she wanted. But what she wanted would hurt people. And she couldn't be that selfish. Better she be the one that hurt than everyone else. She could live with her own hurt, If she hurt them, she'd never be able to live with it.
She thought she saw the moment Remy realized she wasn't going to let his hope touch her. His smile fell. For a breath or two. Then it widened again. His hands tugged her tank up until the swell of her belly was exposed. And he pressed a kiss to it. That kiss was a gentle, tender thing that stole her breath and brought more of her walls crumbling down. And then... He started singing.
She didn't understand the words. It sounded like they were in French. But she understood the melody well enough. A lullaby, something sweet and loving. Something a parent would sing to their child to make them smile. To make them sleep. To let them know they were loved. She couldn't remember ever hearing him sing before. And his voice was amazing. Still bourbon-smooth, but deeply melodic and rich. She felt like she could touch it. Like she could bathe in it. Which told her that she'd already lost her hold on more of her emotions than she was happy with.
"Stop it, Remy. Please. Just stop it," she whispered, already trying to pull away. But his hands were there to hold her in place, arms wrapped around her waist until his mouth brushed the bump with each word and each exhalation. And even though he kept singing to the child she carried, his gaze turned her way and she was held motionless by what she saw in it.
The tears fell faster and harder. Because he was looking at her like she was his whole world. But that wasn't her place in his life. It never had been. Not even when they'd been a couple. That was Morgan's place. It always had been and it always would be. How could he look a her like that? How could he...? "Please, Remy. Don't do this to me. I can't..." Her words choked off on a sob. She found herself in his lap, his arms wrapped tightly around her. And still he sang. Until those words were all she could hear. Until they were a sweet, love-filled memory tucked away deep in her heart. Until she believed in all those things she hadn't dared to let herself hope for.
Dare put her head on his shoulder so that he couldn't see her face. So that he couldn't see what she was feeling. Sure, he could feel it through their link. But he wouldn't be able to see the emotion and that was the important part. Her cheek was settled against the line of his collar bone, her face turned toward the wall. It was a mistake. Because the next instant saw his breath glide across her ear a moment before he started singing again. And this time, each melodious note fell directly into her ear. She could feel the press of his cheek against her hair and the back of her neck because he'd laid his head on hers. Their position left her caged in his arms, unable to escape the tender onslaught.
And it was tender. The tone of his voice, the way he held her, the softness of his words. All perfectly calculated to inflict the most damage. A burgeoning sense of hope filled her, made her think that everything would be fine. Peace and love touched her, left her yearning for more. Hope. Love. Peace. Such fragile emotions. Such dangerous, damaging things. She couldn't hope for a happily ever after. Not here and not now. Not with a future horseman growing in her belly.
Dare pushed at him, trying to dislodge his hold on her. But it stayed firm, kept her where she was. Still, she pushed and pushed and pushed again. "Relax, petit. It gon' be okay." His voice was calm and just as soft as it had been when he'd been singing. Remy pulled back far enough that he could look at her. And his frown came immediately upon taking in the panic on her face. "What all dis, Dare?"
"You have to stop, Remy. Please stop. You can't do this to me. You can't sing to me or it or anything. You just... Stop."
"It? You mean de baby?" he asked, one hand coming to rest on her belly again. There was an answering kick, as if the child enjoyed feeling its father's touch.
"Yes. You have to stop singing to it. Please," she begged.
"Why? What's wrong wit' singin' to de baby?" There was genuine confusion in his voice. He really didn't understand. She reached out and put her hands on his cheeks so that she could look him dead in the eye.
"Because we won't get to keep it, Remy. As soon as its born, Sinister is going to take it away and give it to Apocalypse," she told him. "Its going to be a soldier in some madman's imaginary war, a trained, cold-blooded killer. It isn't our baby. It never was."
Her words saw a frown come to his face. And then he was just suddenly angry. She didn't understand why. But his fingers curled around her wrists and tugged her hands from his face, forced them down until they were settled on her belly. So that she had no choice but to feel the way those tiny little feet kept kicking at the outside world. "Dis a baby, Dare! Dis our baby! Not an it. She's our baby until she born. Sinister can't take dat from us. She's our baby. Made wit' love."
His declaration made her eyes burn with the urge to shed more tears. But she refused to let them fall. "There was no love involved in creating the child. It was the product of a large science experiment." The words fell out of her mouth without care. His words had started weakening her resolve. She had to do something to shore up the crumbling walls surrounding her heart. She had to keep her sanity in tact.
Her words saw his fingers tightening around her wrists. His eyes blazed with his anger. Anger she could feel through their link. It boiled within him, churned like the choppy waves of a storm-tossed sea. His lips went flat with the emotion. "Dis no science experiment, Dare," he growled at her, his hands pressing hers more firmly against her belly. "Dis our baby. Our baby! Why you keep denyin' it?"
His anger and pain battered at her, sought a way through her crumbling barricades. Tried to destroy the tenuous grasp she had on her own emotions. She didn't want to let them go. She'd start crying and she'd never stop. She hated crying. And she hated hurting him. But it was for the best because she just couldn't do it. Even if he ended up hating her for it. She couldn't let herself believe and hope and love. She knew how it would end. She knew and she couldn't handle it.
"Why, Dare? Why you say such horrible t'ings? Why you fightin' dis, fightin' me, at every turn?" His question this time was no less a demand, but it was tempered with a desperate need to understand. Because he just didn't get it. She swore the urge to shake her trembled through him. The way his fingers shook, ever so slightly, around her wrists said as much. She didn't blame him. She was the worst type of person right now. "Why? You tell me why!" His demand was filled with anger. With confusion. With disbelief. With pain.
It was the pain in his voice is what broke her resolve. "Because I'm going to lose the baby to that monster! And then I'm going to lose you! And I won't survive it! Okay?" She nearly shouted her response at him. She ignored the tears that had started falling again. She had to make him understand that she wasn't strong enough. Not this time. She had nothing left. "I'm going to lose everything and I'm going to break. And I'm not strong enough to survive it. I'm not strong enough!"
She wanted to pull free of his hold and climb from his lap. She wanted to go hide, shut the door to the bathroom and lock it and seek refuge in the only place she had to go. But he refused to release her. And it was a stupid idea, anyway. He'd just pick the lock and let himself in. So she did the next best thing and turned away from him, tipped her head down so that her hair tumbled forward to shield her face. And let the bitter tears fall without heed or care.
Just like that, the anger was gone. Left in its place was confusion. Remy released his hold on her hands. She wrapped her arms around herself as she attempted to rebuild the crumbled ruins of her walls. But there weren't any pieces big enough with which to do so. Dare was left with a shattered heart and a heavy weight on her shoulders. One of Remy's hands found her face behind its curtain of hair and his fingers slid so, so carefully along her cheek until he could press his palm against the tear-soaked flesh. "You gon' lock all de emotions away? Gon' lie to youself about you feelings? Gon' pretend not'ing happen here?"
"I'm not lying to myself," she replied, voice soft. They both knew she was lying about it. But she wouldn't take the words back and he was kind enough to not call her on it.
"Dis our baby, Dare. And you allowed to love her. No matter what happen to her and us," he said, his voice gentle and quiet. The hand that rested against her cheek applied pressure and slowly turned her face until she was facing him once more. Then his hand shifted, his fingers moving so that they could curl under her chin. She knew what he was doing and she should have closed her eyes. But she didn't. She met his stare head on and let him see everything she was feeling.
"I can't do it, Remy," she shook her head. Dare swallowed hard. Why wouldn't he understand? Why wouldn't he just let it go? "I can't. I can't grow to love her and lose her. It's already going to be hard enough to lose you when this is all over. If I start loving the baby..."
His hands were there to cup her face and tip it up so that she couldn't hide from him again. "You not gon' lose me, Dare. Why you t'ink you gonna lose me?"
"Because we're going to go back and you'll go back to Morgan," she whispered and allowed him to see what that would do to her. He'd unearthed her emotions, forced them to the surface because he'd been too curious. Too compelling. Now he was going to have to deal with what that meant. For her and for him. "Everything will return to the way it was and I'll lose you. Again."
For a moment, he said nothing. Simply stared into her face and sifted through the emotions there. The ones he found inside her head. Then he frowned at her. "You t'ink it all gonna be de same, Dare? You t'ink Morgan not gonna go back wit' guilt and heartache? What about Haley? Scott? You t'ink dey not gon' have problems when dey go home? Warren an' Jehnna gon' have to come to terms wit' what happen here. We all do. Not'ing gon' be de same, Dare. Everyt'ing gon' change. For everyone."
Rationally, in some part of her brain and in her soul, she knew that. But it was too hard to admit. Because that meant everything would change for her. She lived with the fear that this would be too much for Logan. That this would be the thing that drove them apart. She didn't think she could handle being alone. "I'm scared," she told him.
"I know you scared, petit. What happen here, it gon' affect everyone. It make sense you scared of dat. But I'm gon' be dere for you. No matter what happen. You and me, we bound together in ways dat can't be broken. Can't be undone." His hands still held her cheeks so that she had no choice but to look at him. But there was a gentleness in that hold that hadn't been there moments ago. His thumbs stroked the curves of her cheeks, occasionally catching a tear as it made its escape. The look in his eyes was so tender that it hurt to see. "No matter what come, I'm gon' be dere for you. I swear it."
"I don't deserve you," she told him. She hadn't done anything to earn that kind of promise from him. "I don't deserve you or Morgan or Logan. He's going to hate me."
"Who tell you you don' deserve to be happy?" he asked, anger touching his voice. "Me an' Morgan an' Logan love you. We not gon' leave you. Logan not gon' hate you for anyt'ing dat happen here. He gon' do what he can to help you through it. If he hate you and he leave, den he de biggest fool on de planet. You amazing and special, Dare. You beautiful. You deserve everyt'ing. And if he decide he can't deal wit' dis, if he leave you, den I'll be here for you. I'll always be here for you."
There was honesty in his words. It was woven into his voice. She could feel it settling into the crevices in her brain. He truly meant it. It made the tears fall harder. Remy leaned in and laid a gentle kiss on her lips before pulling back to give her a serious look. She had to wonder what he was thinking that it would put such an expression on his face. "You tell me once that you know I don' want you de way I want Morgan. But you wrong about dat, Dare."
"Remy." She got no further than his name. The way he stared at her choked off any more words. And, to be honest, she didn't know what she was going to say to him.
"I owe you an apology. I never tell you what you mean to me. An' I never tell you dat you were more dan just sex. Dat you worth more dan just sex."
"You..." she began, but stopped. He was talking about when they were a couple, as brief as it had been. That was so long ago, too. And she'd hurt him in the worst possible way. She'd gone from his bed to Logan's without a word. Without a thought. Without consideration for him or his feelings. "You said it wasn't a relationship. You said no strings, that you weren't ready for the commitment again."
"You right. But dat don' make it right dat I never tell you it was more dan sex for me." She didn't understand why he was bringing this up now. It was water under the bridge. She'd felt certain they'd moved past it over the years. She was sure he caught her confusion, because he stroked her cheek again before sliding one hand into her hair. She couldn't quite stop herself from pressing against that hand. "You always talk about what you don' deserve. You always wrong. What you don' deserve is someone who don't tell you how special you are. How much dey love you. How much you mean to dem. I don' tell you dese t'ings when we together. An' I'm sorry."
Dare could only stare at him. He sounded so earnest and sincere. She didn't know what to make of it. "Remy?"
"I tell you before dat I love you an' you don't believe me," he said softly. Gently. Seriously. She remembered. Vaguely. It had been the night he'd pried some of her secrets out of her. Her emotions had been all over the place, so she hadn't been totally with it. But she remembered that part. "It de truth, Dare. I love you."
"You don't have to say it, Remy. It doesn't matter because - " she started, but his fingers came to rest against her lips. Silencing the rest of her words.
"It matters, Dare. You been twistin' everyt'ing up inside for so long, you don' know what de truth is anymore. I love you. Dat don' mean I'm gon' stop loving Morgan. An' you not gon' stop lovin' Logan. But I love you. Maybe you don' feel it when we together. But it was dere. Seeds planted deep in my heart, petit. Seeds dat you nurture and grow over de years. Seeds dat blossom into a beautiful garden. I don' know how you never see it. But it dere. I love you."
She wanted to open her mouth and say something. To deny his words or to tell him that he didn't have to pretend for her sake. But he never gave her the opportunity. His mouth covers hers with a kiss that was heady and determined. At the same time, he caught hold of one of her hands and brought it to his chest. Settled it over his heart. She could feel the organ thumping in his chest, hard and heavy and a little fast. More than that, his emotions poured into her until she felt like she was drowning. There was affection there, yes. but it was nearly buried under a river of love. That love was sticky and cloying, coating every part of her it touched.
And then she was wrapped around him, her arms curled tight around his neck while he plundered her mouth with his own. While he dipped his tongue into it so that he could taste every inch of it. So that he could tease her own tongue with it. When they finally broke apart, it was so they could both suck air into their lungs. And Dare could only stare up at him in wonder.
Because he meant it. He really did love her.
"Don' hide from me anymore, petit," he whispered. She heard the fear in his voice. Fear that he'd lose her to her own mind. Fear that she'd leave him alone here.
"I'll try, Rem," she promised. The words and her voice were breathy. They trembled. When she spoke and when they hung in the air between the two of them. "Its so hard, though. Knowing what's going to happen..."
He watched as she settled her hands on her belly. It was the first time she'd made the move to touch it herself. The baby, the child they'd created, reacted to her touch and kicked. Hard enough to leave her a little breathless.
His hands covered her own. Leant her his strength. "I know. But we gon' face dis together. An' I'm gon' keep singin'. To you and to our baby. De circumstances of her creation not her fault. And she deserve good t'ings, like her mother. Our baby deserve somet'ing good while we can still give it to her. So I'm gon' sing to her. And we gon' love her while we got her, Dare."
"Okay," Dare nodded. She let Remy pull her into his arms, her back pressed to his chest, and he wrapped them around her so that his hands rested on her belly. Over hers. Together, they sat like that and felt the way their child moved and about kicked.
And he sang, his voice smooth and sweet and filled with love.
~*~
The light from the screen reflected off the broad smile that stretched his lips. Finally. It had taken much longer than he'd expected. But it had finally happened. The Cajun thief had finally broken through the armor of sorrow that Xavier's pyrokinetic had worn for far too long. He'd started to think she would outlast the man's charm and this entire experiment of his. After spying on them and enjoying the impromptu concert a little longer, he turned his attention away from the feed to stare across his lab.
It had been months since he'd had his toys to the lab. Months since he'd had them perform their tricks for him. There was a part of him that wanted to bring them back and have them do so one more time. He was curious to see what kind of unique positions they might take in order to amuse him without bringing harm to the children they'd created.
His female toys were starting to move into their third trimesters. There would be little time left for him to enjoy their misery. His experiment was almost at an end, his goal almost met. Would that he had more time.
For a moment, just one or two, he considered keeping his pets. They could produce an army of genetically perfect mutants for Apocalypse. But the thought was quickly discarded. It would do none of them any good. Rebellious natures would rise up time and again. Eventually, someone would die.
He recalled the way the pyrokinetic had lunged for him when he'd visited her and the thief to insist she take an unnecessary pregnancy test. How it had felt to have her life literally hanging in the balance. She'd stared him down, the knowledge that she was going to die crowded into her eyes with her own burning hatred. She'd been correct that day. She was as close to a god as he'd likely ever see. They all were, in their own ways. He'd secretly been grateful that the thief had talked sense into her. It would have been a shame to have to end things because the girl couldn't see fit to behave like the obedient little tool she was meant to be.
His toys. His gaze strayed to the wall of screens again. Each of them showed some odd scene of domesticity playing out between all of his dolls. The Cajun had concluded his song so that he and the pyrokinetic sat in companionable silence. Both his and her hands were settled on her swollen belly. Such a pretty little scene. As if aware they were being spied on, the thief's odd eyes rolled up to stare in the direction of the camera. He could see a promise in those eyes, a promise that echoed the threat he'd issued three months ago.
Let the man try to make good on his promise. No one would find this lab.
His gaze slid along to the next screen to find the couple on it sitting on the love seat with a book in hand. The next couple had curled around one another in the bed, his hands gliding over the swell of one calf. And the last couple was lost in conversation about what it would be like if they were allowed to raise their child together.
There was misery in each action, though it was subtle. For him, it was akin to drinking a fine wine. He loved their suffering and again gave thought to extending it. Again, he put the notion aside in order to keep the end goal in sight. And it wasn't as if he couldn't simply grab them again, if he needed them. Though he'd have to be careful if he did so. It would be easy to break their minds if he tried to play with them again too soon. They'd need time to bury their memories of their time here. He would need them carefree and at ease if he wanted to grab them a second time.
He put that thought away. It was something to consider for another time. For now, he shifted his focus away from his monitors and toward the glow coming from the other end of the lab. It was a soft glow, barely bright enough to reach him on this side. But it was enough to see his smile stretch further. He had so much more to deal with than his toys. They were secure in their cages and they would remain so until he said otherwise.
For now, he would focus on his new experiment. There was so much to do. And so little time to do it.
no subject
Also poor Dare. There's so much happening and she's so used to carrying it alone, it is a lot to accept that anyone wants to help. Her and Haley have to have a conversation about their abandonment issues some day, some how. Just saying.
Remy's determination to both convince Dare that he loves her and provide any kind of love to their baby is so beautifully him. And Dare's want for him to stop but not wanting to pull away from the link just breaks my heart.
Remy singing to the baby in French... I'm melting that's just gorgeous. You know no daughter of his isn't going to learn French, even in utero.
Sinister is just a creep. Period. And of course he's got some other creepy shit going on. Ugh. I am not trying to guess who is who by the discription (I know one of them and I'm melting already). lol
Great work hun! Can't wait to see more!
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i feel like Dare learned when she was young (i'm talking back when her powers first kicked in and her parents just... didn't know what to do) that the only person she could rely on was herself. or, rather, she felt that was how it was. her parents didn't know how to handle her powers any more than she did. they did what they could, but it obviously didn't work. she should have learned, upon getting to the school, that it was something she could share with people. and they would help her. but it looks as if no one noticed she did this. and now its to a point where unlearning it will be hard.
i told you. he was persistent. he refused to give up or back down. he was determined to make her understand that she wasn't alone. and he was determined to make her see that the baby is as much a victim as the two of them are. i think he understands, better than she knows, how painful getting attached to someone is when you know they're going to leave you. but he also knows that you can't stop living and the world doesn't stop turning just because that might happen.
when the idea came up, i knew right away that he was going to sing in French. just... had to. i expect all his children know French. the good and the bad. hell, i suspect that Dee and her siblings know a word or two. especially the bad ones!
Sinister is totally a creep. and i think the descriptions of the others are maybe kind of obvious? if you think about them.
glad you enjoyed. we'll see what my brain comes up with next. thanks for reading!
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Remy singing to the baby (in French, of course) was lovely, bb. Very lovely indeed.
Sinister is a creep. WTF is he up to now? I have this niggling thought that he somehow cloned the babies when he took each of them off to his lab and put them under. Not sure why, but there you go. I guess we'll see - huh?
Kudos! I enjoyed it muchly. *smooches*
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Sinister is absolutely a creep. and yes, you will absolutely see what he's been up to at a later date. so just hold on tight.
glad you enjoyed, bb! and thanks for giving it a read!