Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Men. Alisa Brex LeBeau belongs to Nicole Wagner. I make no money from this. Sadly.
A X-Men Drabble
Written by RogueMoon
Written for and Dedicated to Nicole Wagner
Almost ten years ago to the day, Sinister had the misfortune of having his finest vessel stolen from him by the Assassins Guild of New Orleans. Only to have the child abandoned in a hospital by one of their own who claimed to be the mother, then stolen yet again by the Thieves Guild because of his eyes and how they perfectly fit their prophecy of 'Le Diable Blanc'. All arranged by En Sabah Nur as a grand joke on his slave.
Almost ten years Sinister had been monitoring the child from the shadows, watching as he struggled on the streets to get enough to eat, ensuring there was food next to him when he woke up just to make sure he did. Following those he caught doing unthinkable acts upon the boy and taking pleasure in forcing them to feel the terror and humiliation they had forced upon the child. It was his vessel, his finest creation and he would not abide others their acts of desecration.
Almost ten years of observing the child grow and thrive like Adam had not. Of feeling his heart ache in his chest. Of remembering he had a heart and wanting to rip it out to rid himself of the moral chains that threatened to bind him once more. Of praying they would if only it would let him love again.
He wanted a child. One he could raise as his own, and not have to suffer the pain of watching grow from afar. He'd even settle for an imperfect one. But Apocalypse was a cruel master and would never allow him that joy, not if he knew that's what Sinister wanted.
The scientist well aware his actions this night could herald his downfall. How appropriate that the weather was as dark and stormy as his heart, conflicted and unsure. Terribly cliché, but he had chosen this very night, this very hour because of the electricity running through the air, because of the howling wind outside. It was the first echoing cries of a hurricane in the making. And it would cover for his faked power outage with no one the wiser.
The gestation pods were the third on the list to 'fail' once the storm reached its full fury. Only two children would be spared officially, the rest would have to die, along with Sasha once she was 'found' in the coming weeks. His most valuable assets, the library of genetic material he had been collecting since his transformation, would be spared. The power generator for it remained separate from the rest of his lab.
Sasha was already drugged and the memories of what she was to attempt fed carefully into her mind. They would be impossible to tell apart from her real actions, as she had quite vivid fantasies about escaping him with one of the children she helped create. His own dreaded emotions of yearning and fear for the babe only made the false scenes that much more believable.
The lights flickered, signaling the failure of his recording devices. Sinister left his computers, heading for the tanks. Sasha was stumbling towards them as well, the programing kicking in. He picked her up and carried her, her struggles against his chest weak and without the knowledge of what she did, only what she thought she was doing.
He entered the room as the lights flickered again and the chambers powered down. He set Sasha into a chair nearby and touched her mind long enough to freeze her in place for the time being. The scientist opened the pod containing his daughter and lifted her out, smiling down at the squirming body.
She opened her eyes and he couldn't help but coo. She giggled at that, reached out for him as he lifted her into the air and swung her around playfully. Then brought her close to his chest and tickled her soft sides, gaining another high pitched shriek of joy for his efforts.
The lights flickered a third time and he tucked her into a basket, soft fleece blanket the perfect shade of baby pink tucked securely around her. He held the wicker in one arm and guided the sedate Sasha with the other as a tesseract appeared in front of them. The storm was at its height and most of New Orleans would be trapped inside their homes praying they didn't float away.
The portal opened into the office of Jean-Luc LeBeau, patriarch of the Thieves Guild. The man who now watched over his son and kept him protected when Sinister could not. Though he had yet to learn that. The man was surprised, of course. Sinister had never approached them in his true form and walking out of the portal probably made the man believe he was being visited by an Immortal. Which was true enough in its own way.
To the Patriarch's credit, he did not become upset or frightened by Sinister's arrival. He stood up from his desk and, while looking rather annoyed at the interruption during one of the worst storms to hit his beloved city in the last two decades, nodded politely, "M'seiur?"
"I am called Sinister. I have a job for you."
"I assumed as much," he lifted his chin at the woman, "If you lookin' for her ta disappear, it goin' ta cost quite a bit. She be very noticeable wit' how belle she be."
Sinister smirked, he always did have a taste for beautiful women, but shook his head, "She is expendable. And will be expended in several weeks time when others who serve me come hunting for her. Do not concern yourself with keeping her alive, though a token effort would be appreciated, for appearances sake."
The doctor set the basket containing his treasure on the desk and waggled the pinky of one hand over the expressive eyes of tiny body. The child laughed and reached up with strong hands to capture that finger. Sinister looked up, satisfied when he saw Jean-Luc staring at her.
The scientist grinned, "She has her father's eyes."
The Patriarch's head snapped up, meeting Sinister's eyes. The red, glowing eyes that pulsed there. He gulped, "M'seiur, we did not know when we took him in-"
"You weren't supposed to," the doctor ended the apology and looked back down at his daughter with a gentle smile that belonged to her and her alone. "Tell him they have the same mother, nothing more. Should I come for her overtly, do everything in your power to keep me from succeeding. My master is far more unforgiving than your Patron."
"And if you come for her covertly?"
"I only hope that she will understand."
Jean-Luc nodded, looking over at Sasha.
Sinister followed his eyes, "The pawn that shall take the blame. I will be dropping them both off outside your door within the next half hour, I trust you will do your job adequately."
"Of course. And de payment?"
"The first installment is at the bottom of her basket. Each year on this day she will get a birthday card with the next year's expenses."
The Patriarch nodded again and headed for the door to his office, "I'll be back here in ten minutes, M'seiur. I expect I'll return ta find it empty, oui?"
"Her name is Alisa Brex... LeBeau."
The door closed behind the man and Sinister lifted his child to say one last goodbye, pressing his lips to her forehead, "Be good to your brother. Don't let him lead you to trouble. Know that from this day forward, Sinister has no heart. He has lost it to you."