Work Text:
author: Lucinda
rating: pg
Main Character: Remy, Sinister
disclaimer: Nobody from Marvel belongs to me.
distribution: please ask first.
note: post Antarctica.
Clad in a pair of jeans and a tee shirt, Remy sat on a pile of crates, watching the boats loading or unloading their cargos. The docks of Williamsburg, Virginia were far more modern and busy than the impression the city gave would suggest. There was nothing of 'historical Williamsburg' to be seen here, only modern shipping. It was a good place to send things, and he'd ended up here after Antarctica.
Oh yes, Antarctica. Never break up with a vindictive woman with a history of violence and mental disorders when you're in the middle of a frozen wasteland. Rogue had left him there, alone in the snow wearing only his Shi'ar uniform and his battered trench coat. It was a miracle that he hadn't died, to vanish into the cold unknown. Perhaps she'd wanted him to die, to be gone with all his questions of her past. If she had been willing to leave his past unknown, he wouldn't have poked into hers, but if she wanted 'honesty an' truth about your past' then it came with the price that the same was expected from her. She'd learned why he didn't talk about his past, and dropped him into the snow to freeze to death over it.
So much for 'I love you, swamp-rat.' So much for 'it doesn't matter what happened then, it matters who I am now, who you are now.' Apparently, it only didn't matter about HER past, but his still counted.
Perhaps he was a bit bitter about things. But he'd loved her, offered her anything she'd wanted, any sign of devotion that she could ask for. He'd loved her to the best of his ability, although he sometimes wondered if his best would be enough... It hadn't been.
As she'd flown away, leaving him there, the razor edged flakes of ice hadn't been the only thing falling. The broken shards of his heart had fallen along with them, unseen, leaving no visible mark, but there. He'd loved her, as much as he was capable of loving anyone. She may or may not have been planning to kill him, but she'd killed any love, any affection that had been in his heart for her. He had been a charmingly evasive flirt, someone who was perfectly willing to chat, to be fond of someone, to be friendly.
Now, his heart was nothing but frozen ashes, bitter dust in place of the warmth and affection from but a few weeks ago. He couldn't muster more than a dull bitterness towards Rogue, or any of the others who had been at his 'Trial', no more than a dull curiosity about the others who hadn't been there. Would they agree with the decision that Rogue made? Would Stormy miss him? He thought that he should care about the answers, but couldn't quite cross the gaping, frozen hole in his heart enough to care.
But for the first time in his life, his mutant powers were not running amuck. They were under perfect, ice edged control. His empathic abilities had been forced into precise lines of detection and defense, and he would not accidentally 'charm' anyone into things. They would barely notice him, and forget his appearance easily. As for his other abilities... With a small smile, he considered his other mutant power.
He could tap and direct the power of nuclear fission. Sense the bonds between molecules and the very electrons in atoms, and persuade them to let go. When that had first manifested, it had been without control and utterly terrifying to him. Now, he'd realized that his emotions had fed into his manipulation, and the more he worried, the more afraid he was, the more things were likely to go 'boom'. The fear had fed the explosions, which had fed the fear, creating a vicious, horrible cycle that had turned him into a terrified mess. That had led him to Sinister, who had resorted to excruciating tests and a small device implanted in his head to cripple his power. His body had done something in the snow, thrown some sort of metabolic switch, and he'd survived, radiating heat at an obscene level, and somehow or other, the device had been expelled from his head.
But he wasn't having any emotions right now. And between that current lack of caring and the years of practice with the fraction of power that this chip had left him, he could control his power now. Power that easily surpassed the nuclear arsenals of a nation. Of course, he still would have to be fairly close to ground zero, but... He didn't have to touch things to make them explode, he'd never really needed to beyond the fact that it allowed him to focus his attention better.
Remy'd had nothing but time for introspection and contemplation lately. He'd found himself contemplating his life, his time with the Guild, his traumatic experiences with Sinister, and his time with the X-Men. He'd made so many mistakes, so many things that he should have done differently, tried a different method... But he couldn't change that. He could quite easily level a city, although he wasn't certain if he'd survive the experience, but he couldn't change the past.
Staring at the small device, he considered the functions of each part. That was the part to monitor his hormones and emotions. That was the part that by use of a tiny electrical charge, redirected from his own bioelectric field, ensured that his abilities were crippled. Sinister had initially thought that the device would entirely shut down his explosions, but that hadn't been the case. This part...
"Remy did not recall asking you to put a tracking device in my head, Sinister." Remy's voice was calm, the cajun accent faintly flavoring words that lacked any emotion.
With a small shrug, the figure lurking behind him stepped closer, the moonlight falling on dead pale skin, eyes like red coals glowing in the shadows. "There were many things that you did not ask about at the time."
Remy turned a bit, looking more carefully at the ruthless scientist. "Remy was no thinking very clearly at the time. But I don need this anymore." He tossed the small device back to Sinister, almost smiling at the look of startlement that flickered over the man's face.
"But... your abilities were out of control. You are feverish, LeBeau. Allow me to help you." It was easy to tell that Sinister was startled, and almost as easy to know that he had a plot forming in his mind.
Remy gave a small shrug. "They were out of control then, now they aren't. Remy don't need your help either. Don't got a fever, mon Sinister, got a metabolic shift. You should know all about those... Remy been updated for the atomic age."
"Metabolic shift? What are you... How did you gain control over your explosions?" The scientific curiosity that was as close to a normal emotion as Sinister ever experienced had come forth.
Remy looked at him, evaluating Sinister. "Not that complicated. Actually, the control be something that should have occurred to you wit all the research on mutants an mutant ability that you've done. My explosions were destabalized by my emotions. Get the emotions under control, the explosions be under control. Practice wit' the little ones helped a lot as well..."
The scientist nodded, clearly sorting through his own research into the functioning of mutations. "Of course... so many abilities, especially in psions, are linked or influenced by the emotional state. Little explosions?"
Remy made the effort to smile, his own eyes glowing in the darkness as well, a bright glittering orange gold. "Little explosions. Remember how you said the device prob'ly cut off everything? It missed a trickle. I been spending years working with that trickle... Do your number calculating... if the chip nullify what, ninety-five percent of my abilities, you said? If I could do that much with five percent of my power, what can I do now that I got it all?"
Sinister froze, his expression one of startlement. "But your previous uses... I had assumed that the chip had malfunctioned, or perhaps became partly inactive. The scale of your detonations was only a bit less, I had assumed the difference was from control."
Remy shrugged. "Now, that's what assuming gets you. Before, I was trying to play cards wit' one or two, and now? Now I got the full deck."
Sinister's comment had very little connection to things, a sure sign that Remy had shocked him to his frozen core. "You cheat at cards."
"Your point? All I got to do now is figure out what I want from life. But Sinister... don't be thinking that you can take me back to the lab with you. I could blow the atoms of your body apart now... Remy go nowhere he don't want to go. Probably be seeing you around sometime."
Sinister could only watch as Remy walked away, the heat that he was generating lingering in the air. Shaking his head, he looked at the chip in his hand.
"The X-Men had best hope that LeBeau has absorbed some moral character from someone, or else he might become their next foe. More powerful than Magneto..."
With a cold smile, he looked into the darkness that had swallowed Remy. "You've grown up so much... I almost feel proud."
end.