Revelations, part one
so you all remember that writing meme i did last month, right? the one where you gave me pairings and i was supposed to craft a drabble around it. well, i've finally finished the one Daz gave me. and its the Drabble That Ate New York and had Rhode Island for dessert. in total, its a whopping 17,000 words. (okay, so its about 50 shy. i'm not going to quibble)
the pairing Daz gave me was Mystery and Remy. this is post-SVHQ and the men have been back in the real world for some time. when i first got an idea for this, i was simply going to have Mystery in a bar and Remy was just going to show up. then the bunnies came out of hiding and started biting me. vicious little bastards, let me tell you. and they kept coming. this would have been done some time ago, but a certain Muse, who shall remain nameless and locked in a closet with the door and walls wired with explosives, kept pissing around and taking his own sweet time with this. so, yeah... my writing has suffered this month as a result. now maybe i can move on to something else.
Title: Revelations
Word Count: 6,677
Pairing: Mystery and Remy (Supervillainess round robin)
Rating: adult
Warnings: lots of bad words, sex, threats to masculine body parts, abusing defenseless buildings
Summary: after a failed tech heist, Mystery is forced to confront her past and her feelings. wanna talk about a bad day? when it rains, it fucking pours.
Another explosion echoed along the alley, not far from where she was hiding. Damn it! Why had it been them? Of all the superheroes to corner her, it was just her luck that she'd gotten the two men she couldn't beat. Not even in an unfair fight. The pile of rubble she was behind shifted to give her warning and she dove to the left only seconds before a head popped up over the top, facial features hidden behind brilliant yellow spandex. She blindly tossed a mass of power back to the pile and felt the ripple of energy when bricks and concrete exploded upward in a spray of deadly debris. There was a dull, meaty thud as a heavy body hit the ground.
Oh, great. Now he was really going to be pissed at her.
"Give it up, girl. Gonna get ya sooner or later," Logan's voice was gruff. She thought she heard equal measures of pain and approval in his tone. She'd consider it later, when she got the hell out of there. Right now, she was more concerned with getting her ass out of this mess in one piece. How the hell had it all gone to shit the way it had? How had they known when and where the girls would strike?
It was supposed to have been a simple snatch and grab job. Ria had located some tech she needed to enhance security and several other programs back at the volcano. The five of them had come in on a weekend, during the day, when no one would be working at the company they'd planned on hitting for a couple of days. It should have gone smoothly, quickly and easily. Instead, it had turned into a goat fuck of epic proportions.
Within minutes, literally minutes, of their arrival, an entire fucking troop of superheroes had shown up. They'd been waiting for the five of them when they'd tried slipping out of the building. There'd been two of them for every one of the girls. Cyclops, Wolverine, Nightcrawler and Gambit had shown up to represent the X-Men. Thor, Ronin and Iron Man were there from the Avengers. Spiderman, the Human Torch and Daredevil had rounded out the group. Everyone of them with any part of their faces exposed had worn a look of expectation. And anticipation. They'd obviously wanted payback. Chances were good that those with full masks had been wearing the same look.
It had been so easy for them to divide the girls up. She'd tried to create diversions by blowing anything up that she thought could prove dangerous. But they'd obviously been expecting it, because the men began splitting into pairs and driving toward her partners in crime. Last she'd seen, Ria'd had Thor and Summers hot on her tail as she'd tried to make it to the jet. Kiera had disappeared behind a sheet of ice, thanks to the destruction of a nearby fire hydrant. Johnny Storm and Clint Barton had taken off after her. Ruby had run, Kurt Wagner and Peter Parker hot on her tail. Rose had been confronted by Tony Stark and Matt Murdock. Which had left Remy and Logan for her.
Mystery tried to catch her breath, gasping loudly as she drew air into her lungs. She knew it was pointless to try and be silent. Even if she was, Logan would be able to smell her. He'd had plenty of opportunity to memorize her scent. He'd find her again soon enough. And easily, too. He was right. It was only a matter of time. "You ain't got a chance, Mystery. Give up now and ya don't gotta get hurt."
"Go fuck yourself, Logan," she snarled and hurled another mass of energy toward the last spot where she'd seen them. She was trying hard not to give in to her more desperate tendencies and blow some part of him up. He'd just heal it up. And it would piss him off even more. "I think I'd rather inflict torture upon myself than let you capture me."
She was dismayed when she heard his chuckle and it was far too close for her comfort. Obviously, her last attempt hadn't come close to hitting them and they'd moved up on her. "He right, petit. You give up now and you don' get hurt."
Her body shuddered in response to the sound of the Cajun's voice. Damn it! It wasn't fair that he could do that to her with nothing more than a handful of words. She took refuge in her anger, pulling it about herself in an attempt to try and keep him from finding a way in again. She resorted to the only weapon she had in her arsenal that would hurt him. Sarcasm.
"Oh, my. Is that real concern I hear in your voice, Remy?" She snorted and dove under a low set of steps. The wall beside her exploded in a shower of rubble. "Don't tell me you still think I hold some kind of feeling for you? Poor boy. So deluded. What has that woman done to your mind?"
Her answer came in the form of another spray of cards, another series of explosions, another spout of debris. Mystery crawled from under the steps to find Logan waiting for her. Panic hit for a brief moment and her power flared. She knew her hair had gone from its usual colors of red and black to the pink and purple that said she was running on serious juice. It was what had earned her the name she used as a villainess. The electric feeling of her energy flooded her and she threw her hands out. She didn't even recall making the decision to do it. She just flung power at him and watched as the explosion rocked him off his feet.
She ran. And she could hear the Cajun right behind her, the flapping of his trench coat loud despite the way her heart pounded in her chest. Despite the way she gasped for air, drawing one ragged breath into her lungs after another. Some sense warned her and she dropped, sliding painfully across the concrete beneath her as he vaulted easily over her head. She watched him land with grace on both feet, a faint smirk twisting his lips up. "Don' do dis, Mystery. Give up before you get hurt." The smirk died and she watched something else come to life in his eyes. "I don' want to hurt you."
"Where as I have absolutely no compunction about hurting you," she replied and threw her hand out. The wall to his right exploded loudly, bricks and mortar and showering down around him. She didn't stop to see if her aim was true. She simply gained her feet and sprang forward, barely avoiding being buried under her own destruction. As she took a left at the corner, she caught a glimpse of yellow coming toward her. Shit. Couldn't he take a couple of minutes? Relax? Grab a coffee and a doughnut? Maybe play skewer the buffalo or something? Obviously he'd healed. She couldn't even take a second to be proud that she'd blown part of him up. Fucking healing factor.
It was plain to her that they'd paired off according to who could effectively deal with each of the girls. And there was no way she could fight off both Logan and Remy. Logan wouldn't die, no matter what part of him she blew up. Remy... She just couldn't bring herself to hurt him, no matter what she'd said to him. Not that she'd ever admit such to him. She had to hope that she could outsmart the two of them. Because it was the only option she had open to her.
And she was doing a poor job of it.
They were both behind her. She didn't look back to check. She just knew. She also knew that it was inevitable that they'd catch her, too. She wasn't a runner by any stretch of the imagination. Logan was, quite literally, an animal. And Remy had spent his life running, dodging, feinting, leaping. Anything that would help make him a better thief. She had the disadvantage and she knew it. They knew it, too. It was only a matter of time that they ran her down. And then... Well, she shuddered to think what would happen then.
There was an opening between the buildings and she ducked down the alleyway. Her temper snapped and broke when she realized she was in a dead end. Even before she pivoted on her heels, she knew that they stood at the front of the alley, blocking her chance to escape. Mystery glared at them for a few moments, then spun and ran, leaping across a pile of garbage that was going to offer her no protection what so ever. Shit.
She was dead.
Crouching behind the trash, Mystery took stock of her options. There weren't many. She was boxed in and stuck in a corner. There was a pile of garbage separating her from the two men who could do the most damage, both physically and mentally, to her. Her brain swam madly, searching for some way to get out of this. The whole time, she heard their slow, steady approach. Booted feet crunched on trash and detritus scattered across the concrete. A glance at the walls to her right and her left showed her that she was caught between two businesses. It might prove to be a way to escape. Except that there was no way she could blow a hole in the wall without bringing the whole thing down on her. She was too tired, too worn out, to concentrate properly. It would take far more care than she had to simply make a small hole in the bricked wall. And she didn't have the damn time, either.
"We got you cornered, Mystery. Come out now. We don't wanna hurt ya," Logan's voice was filled with gruff amusement. Bastard. He'd been enjoying playing chicken with her. Nothing pithy or snappy came to her, no really spectacular come back, so she remained silent and wished like hell she could fly. "This'll go easier on ya if you just give up now."
"And what? Let you put me in some kind of prison? Have someone tinker with my head and fuck up my powers? Leave me caged like an animal?" she snarled back. A slow smile spread across her face. "Is that what you'd want them to do with you, Logan? Put you in a cage and treat you like little more than a wild beast?"
"Gonna take more than ya got to get to me," he replied. "Give it up."
"Fuck you. Kill me. I'm not going to let you take me," she retorted with grim determination. She'd finally made a name for her family. There was no way she was going to let some do-gooders end it. Not here and not now. Not like this. They had special hells for people like her. Special prisons.
"Mystery." Remy's voice carried despite the fact that it was low. She closed her eyes against the power that he held over her.
"No. Go to hell. Both of you."
There was a moment of silence. The world slowed down to a crawl as she thought through the next few moments of her short life. Either Remy was going to blow the trash up and take her along with it, or Logan was going to come over the top of that pile with claws extended. Either way, it was going to hurt like hell. She spared a moment briefly to wonder if the others were still in danger or if they'd found a way out of it. A faint buzz against her hip made her smile. Someone had gotten to the jet and they'd locked on to her location. Now all she needed to do was get up onto a roof some where...
She held her breath, waiting to see what they'd decided. It was obvious neither one of them was sure just what they were going to do with her. Mystery was smart enough to know that the two of them were more or less playing with her. Either one of them could have taken her down at any time, had they chosen to do so. They'd been giving her a chance to turn herself in to them. She thought, for a moment, that neither one of them really wanted to hurt her. And then the decision was made. Snikt.
Shit. Logan was coming for her.
Mystery came to her feet, hands out as she gathered energy to her. She could feel her hair floating around her head, she'd channeled so much energy. And her hands had started glowing. It would be a big release. And it would leave her incapacitated if she let it loose. But she wasn't going to go down without a fight. And maybe, if she made a big enough explosion, it would give which ever one of her teammates was in the jet the time to pull her out of the alley.
Both men stared at her. Logan's claws gleamed wickedly in the light, a deadly reminder of what would happen if he got his hands on her. Remy stood a few feet from him, three or four cards grasped casually in his hand. She could almost feel the kinetic energy he was pouring into them from where she stood. "Last change, girl. Give up. Before ya get hurt."
Mystery ground her teeth together and looked for a target. "Fuck. You."
This was it. She was going to die. Logan took a step toward her, though it seemed almost hesitant. Remy didn't move, simply stood there and stared at her with those demon's eyes. Without taking her eyes off the men, she focused the gathered energy on the walls along side of them, splitting the large ball into two smaller ones that she planned on launching at the brick walls, just slightly behind the men. "Mystery..." Logan said.
"You know, I think I should have blown your dick up that first day. Maybe if I'd neutered you, you'd be more inclined to take me seriously. Go to hell."
Sweat trickled down the sides of her face as she held on to the power she'd gathered to herself. The strain was starting to show. If he didn't make his move soon, she was going to hurt herself. She was going to have to let it go, one way or the other. A movement caught her eye and she shifted her gaze so that she appeared to be trying to keep both of them in her line of sight. Remy's hand twitched again, a slight motion that she knew wasn't accidental. He was pointing, rather quickly, to the corner of the alley. For whatever reason, he was offering her a way out.
She replied by flicking her gaze toward the wall behind him. She couldn't be sure he understood what she was trying to tell him, but at least she'd given him a head's up. Gritting her teeth, she made herself ready. She had to trust to fate that she wouldn't kill either one of them or herself with what she was about to do.
"Time's up, girl," Logan growled and took another step forward. She drew a breath and heaved the power out toward the walls with all of her strength. The walls exploded outward, raining chunks of brick and pieces of metal down upon the alley. Not more than a second after that, Remy let go his cards and yet another explosion rocked the alley. A cloud of dust rose up to obscure to two of them. She turned for the hole in the wall that the Cajun had made with his cards, stopping just before slipping through it to look back at him. He was almost completely obscured by the fine gray dust in the air, but she thought she saw him smile.
Then she slipped through the hole and made for a stairwell. The last thing she heard was Logan's voice, growling in frustration. "Dammit, Gumbo! What that hell was that?"
She thought she heard Remy respond with something that sounded like "Oops" but she was too far away to be sure.
~*~*~*~*~
"Damn, girl. You look like shit." Jemma's face held shock and dismay on it. Mystery frowned at the woman and motioned with one hand toward the wall of bottles behind her. The blonde bartender nodded and turned to fetch her her usual drink. The tumbler that Jemma set before her was filled to the brim with rum, only a few token ice cubes floating in the amber liquid to keep back the warmth. She took a drink and grimaced, then set the glass down and took a good look at herself in the mirror over the back of the bar.
Despite a shower and some of Rose's healing ointments, it was obvious to anyone who chose to look closely enough that Mystery had been in one hell of a fight. There were scratches on one cheek and a bruise on the other. There was also a patch of raw skin on her chin. She knew for a fact, after having peeled out of her uniform, that the rest of her matched her face. She was stiff and sore and she wanted nothing more than to hide in a hole until she healed up. She also wanted to sneak up on the fucking Wolverine and blow his fucking spine out.
"What the hell happened?" Jemma was watching her with wide eyes. Mystery sighed and took another drink. A casual glance around the bar told her that very few of the people there would know who and what she was, though she thought she might have seen a flash of red in one of the darkened corners. Not that she cared. That one had seen her look worse.
"I got my ass handed to me," she murmured in a soft voice. It was the only way she could keep from screaming in frustration.
"Who the hell did that?" The woman asked, surprise in her voice. The two of them had known each other for a long time and she was well aware of what Mystery would and wouldn't do. Jemma had been a bartender at Outlaws for as long as Mystery'd been hanging out there. And it was known by all of the regulars that while she might look soft and sweet, she was quite capable of beating the shit out of anyone who caused trouble. Needless to say, no one ever caused trouble at Outlaws.
"I had a run in with a couple of the X-Men," Mystery muttered around her rum. Jemma made a noise of sympathy and shook her head.
"God damn superheroes are a pain in everyone's ass. Tell me you at least blew them up."
"Couldn't."
"What do you mean, you couldn't? I know personally that no one is off limits when you're in a mood. You blew up your mother, for shit's sake. Why couldn't you blow the sons of bitches up?" Jemma looked as disgusted as Mystery felt.
"It was nothing to do with not wanting to. I physically couldn't," she replied quietly. Everyone who frequented the bar knew of Mystery's talents and what she'd done with them. Finding out that there was something or someone she couldn't make explode would be bad for her reputation. Jemma stared at her for a while, then her eyes went wide in understanding.
"Holy shit on toast. You had him to deal with?" the bartender asked in awe. Mystery nodded and took another drink. Each time, the bite of the rum got a little less intense and she knew without a doubt that she was going to be shit faced in no time fast. What the hell? She deserved it. And she didn't have to worry about anyone from the dork side showing up here. No one had been able to follow her escape.
After Remy'd blown the wall out for her, Mystery had ducked into the building and then started up the stairs. She'd considered taking the elevator but had decided against it. The stairs would be easier to defend if either Logan or Remy had followed after her. As it was, neither one of them had and she'd gotten to the roof just as the jet had settled into a hover position over the building. She'd never been so relieved in her life as she had been when crawling into the plane. Until she'd found herself staring at the faces of her fellow partners in crime. All four of them.
No one had looked as if they'd had an easy time of it. There were bruises and scrapes, though no one had seemed to be injured seriously. Mystery thought that it had mostly been their pride that had taken the bulk of the damage. She'd happily taken the controls from Ria and flown them back to one of their emergency hideouts. The volcano had been compromised and they were trying to be careful about being seen any where near it. She'd left the others nursing their wounds and the bruised egos and gone in search of something to wipe the memory of the day from her mind.
"Is he as much an animal as they say?" Jemma whispered the question to her.
"And then some," Mystery replied. Of course, it could have been worse. She was relatively certain that Logan had been toying with her, that he could have taken her down whenever he'd wanted to. He'd given her more than one chance to give herself up. Shit. She figured he'd been more than capable of overtaking her as she'd run, that he could have simply tackled her to the ground and pinned her there with his superior strength or simply with the weight of his body. Even Remy would have been able to catch her. Men were dicks.
"How'd you get away?"
"The luck of the draw," she shrugged a shoulder. Jemma opened her mouth to ask another question, then quickly closed it when she spied the look on Mystery's face. Instead, the bartender's attention was drawn to some point behind Mystery and a slow smile spread over her face.
"Well, well. Would you look at that? Fresh meat and boy, does he look tasty." Jemma's voice practically oozed a combination of anticipation and sex. Mystery rolled her eyes. The blonde was always looking for either a fuck or a fight. Possibly both. She was welcome to whoever the man was. Mystery was done with the opposite sex. She was going to stick entirely with women now. It wasn't like she was hurting for female companionship. She could get what she wanted or needed from any of the girls.
The room around her went silent. Mystery ignored it and continued to swallow down her drink. When the glass was empty, she slapped it down on the bar with enough force to rattle the ice cubes still remaining and looked up at Jemma. "Another one of those, please."
"Of course, Mystery," Jemma nodded and turned to fetch her a fresh drink, taking the empty with her. She was gone a minute or two before returning with a full glass of liquor. As she was setting it down on the bar before her, Jemma glanced over Mystery's shoulder and nearly dropped the drink. "Oh, wow. Stud alert, girl. Right behind you."
"I'm not interested. I'm swearing off men for the rest of my life," Mystery retorted and lifted her second glass of rum, drinking the entire contents in a few short swallows. Once again, she slapped the glass down on the bar and shoved it toward Jemma. "Another. I'm drinking to my new, man free status."
She watched as Jemma glanced over her shoulder once again, then shook her head. "Sorry, girl. No more for you tonight. You're a mean drunk and I still haven't gotten paid back for your last display of temper."
"Damn it, Jemma," Mystery spat, slapping her palm against the wooden surface. The glass and the cubes inside rattled menacingly. "Don't do this. Just get me a fucking drink and be done with it. I plan to drink myself into forgetting that men ever existed."
"Now why you wan' go an' forget me, petit?" Mystery closed her eyes and swallowed as the bourbon smooth voice flowed over and into her. Why did it have to be him? What had she ever done to deserve this? Were the Gods angry with her? Or did they need a good laugh? Mystery nudged the glass forward and glared at Jemma.
"Another. Now." Her voice was short and filled with anger.
"She don' need another," Remy said, the tone of his voice suggesting that he wasn't going to be disobeyed. Mystery snarled a curse under her breath. Before she could say anything, though, Remy laid a hand on her arm. "We gon' talk now. Come on."
"Take your fucking hand off me before I blow it off your arm," she growled, refusing to look at him. This was the last thing she needed. How the hell had he found her there? Couldn't he just let her be? Wasn't it enough that he and Logan had made her look like a fool earlier? Didn't the bruises and scratches and blood prove that he was better than she was? What more could she give him?
"Mystery," he began and there was something in his voice that cracked the ice around her heart. She thought she'd gotten rid of those pesky emotions, purged herself of them so that she could keep herself safe. She'd been wrong. Before he could say more, she lifted one hand and halted his speech, then threw herself off the stool. Swinging around, she glared up at him until he fell silent. Then she turned and headed for the ladies' room.
The loud thump of the music playing over the bar's p.a. system was muted once she got past the bathroom door. It swung closed and blocked out everything and everyone else. The moderately sized room offered a measure of solitude and Mystery leaned up against the wall, eyes closed and hands raking shakily through her hair. She didn't need this. Not now. Not after the day she'd had. What had he hoped to accomplish by showing up here? How had he even known where to look for her? She looked up and found that there was a window set high on the wall. Perhaps she could slip out and disappear. She needed to get away from him before she forgot everything and gave in.
But she didn't want to.
"Shit!" she whispered and kicked her heel against the wall. "Shitshitshitshitshit!" Each time the word passed her lips, her heel slammed into the sheet rock behind her. The last time she said it, she put enough force into her kick to put a hole in the wall. She'd just had the single worst day of her life and now, he'd come to make it that much worse. It didn't matter if he was there to talk or gloat or throw her over his shoulder and carry her out of the place like a caveman. It was going to get worse.
Extracting the heel of her boot from the hole she'd made in the wall, she muttered a curse and staggered to one of the three sinks. There was a dull throb from her abused foot, but she ignored it. Better that her foot hurt than another part of her. A glance in the mirror showed her that tears glittered on her cheeks. Fucking hell. That was so wrong. She wasn't crying. She was not crying. Mystery didn't cry for any man. Ever. Anger rolled over her in waves and she reached for the knobs on the faucet, twisting them into the 'on' position violently.
She was still bent over the sink, cool water pressed to her cheeks, when she heard the door swing open. There was a brief pulse of music, bass and drums throbbing in her bones, before the door closed and cut the noise off as if it had never been. Perfect. Just what she didn't want was for someone to know she'd been bawling like a little girl. Without looking up, she reached for the towel dispenser she knew was hanging nearby. Her hand encountered a towel and her fingers closed over the warmth of another hand. Some feeling that she didn't even want to name shot through her.
Hard on the heels of that came anger, thick and rich and filling as a decadent piece of chocolate cake. Growling, she stood while jerking away from him at the same time. Remy was watching her with wary eyes, his hands held down and slightly out at his sides. He was trying to look as non-threatening as possible. She knew better and wasn't buying it for a second. Glaring at him, she felt her jaw clench. "What do you want?"
"We need to talk, cher," he replied softly.
"There's nothing to talk about, Mr. LeBeau," she ground out, reverting to a tactic she hadn't used in a long time. She watched as a muscle jumped to life in his jaw and knew she'd struck a nerve. "You made it painfully clear the last time we spoke just how you felt about me. Why should you want to discuss something that is obviously over and done?"
"Mystery," he sighed and took a step toward her. She threw up a hand to stop him and the mirrors over the sinks shattered. He halted and stared at her. For a moment, she thought she saw sorrow and regret on his face, but she had to be imagining things. "Don' do dis. Let me explain..."
"What is there to explain, Mr. LeBeau? You've already told me that you prefer the company of that... that... There's nothing to explain. I understood perfectly when you said you wanted her. Why are you here? Do you wish to rub my nose in it further? Make fun of the fact that I was totally stupid where you were concerned? Laugh over how I allowed what little bit of heart I have rule over my head and blot out all common sense? I was a fool to let you slip past all of my defenses. Kindly leave me alone. Next time, it won't be a mirror."
He didn't follow her when she scurried out the bathroom door.
~*~*~*~*~
A small pile of bricks shattered with a satisfying noise, sending dust and debris up into the air. She took a pull off the bottle of rum and frowned. She was alone here, lost in her own little world. The neighborhood had once been filled with a mix of houses and small, mom and pop businesses. Now it was little more than a dying creature, the broken shells and husks that had once been building slowly falling in on themselves. Except for those that she had vented her frustration and rage on. Several of the larger buildings had been turned into piles of rubble, small bits of broken brick and splintered wood heaped together as a testament to her temper.
There were a lot of those piles.
This was where she came to think, where she tried to sort out the chaos in her head. Mystery knew that some people would say she had issues. Those people would quickly find themselves blown to pieces. She didn't have issues. Her issues usually died a quick, painful death. Unless she missed. It happened. When she was drunk and her aim was off. Not often, but it happened.
There was an old apartment building standing on one corner of the dead neighborhood. It was seven stories tall with broad windows and balconies of wrought iron. Inside, it was skeletal, with wiring hanging out where pieces of sheet rock had been shattered out of the walls. The ceilings were water stained and molding, sagging in under the weight of age and disuse. The entire building was cloaked in forgotten memories and tarnished dreams. It would be a tender mercy to finally put it out of its misery. She'd been saving it for a special occasion.
Now was as fucking good a time as any.
After taking another drink from the bottle she'd brought with, she set it on the ground and started eyeballing the building before her. Ideally, she'd like to start at the top and work her way down and watch it all fall in on itself. But there was something utterly idiotic about standing inside a building when one was blowing it apart. Fortunately, she'd spent quite a bit of time studying the layout of the building, learning every single nook and cranny and crack and crevice there was to be found inside. In every room. She could walk the floor in her sleep, with her eyes closed and in the dark. And as long as she could visualize the layout of the place, she could make it explode.
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and brought up the mental map she'd constructed. Focusing on her memories of the ceiling, she drew upon the energy that filled her and gathered it together, sent it forth. There was a sound like distant thunder, followed by a gentle shifting of the ground beneath her feet. The bottle of rum threatened to tip over, forcing Mystery to reach down and pick it up. She looked up in time to see dust billowing up into the sky and a small smile slid across her face.
Each small burst of power saw walls exploding into rubble. Ceilings collapsed to the floors beneath them. Glass shattered with the slightest pressure put upon them. The building had long stood empty, so there was no need to worry over gas and electricity and water. She could destroy shit to her heart's content. She took great care in blowing out each section of wall, each piece of glass, each tub. Anything she could remember being in the building, she used her power to destroy it. And each part of the structure she took down, she reminded herself that she wasn't powerless, wasn't soft and stupid, wasn't a failure for the fiasco of the day.
She imagined that she was blowing up bits of the Wolverine and Gambit, destroying them the way they'd so thoroughly destroyed her today. They hadn't even thought her worthy of their full abilities, had simply planned on running her into the ground. As if she were some sort of prey animal being chased by a larger predator. A fiery mouthful of rum convinced her she was strong and fierce, that they would have fallen to her eventually. She'd only been panicked. And she'd been overwhelmed by memories...
Anger rose up in her breast again, hard and thick, to settle like a stone where her heart belonged. They deserved to die. All men did. They weren't good for more than a bit of pleasure. And even that could be replaced with a woman and a strap on. The more rum she drank, the madder she got. The madder she got, the more power she used. Soon, she was hurling great masses of energy at the interior of the building. The ground shook beneath her feet and nearly sent her to her knees more than once. She should have seen it for the warning it was, but she was too upset and blind. Too pissed. Too far gone to stop.
In seemingly no time, all of the walls and ceilings and other things inside the building were gone. She'd taken it all down, brought every single piece of plaster and piping and ceramic down into a pile inside the exterior walls. She imagined there was a giant heap of rubble inside. The light of the moon glittered off shards of glass, strewn about the exterior like bits of deadly glitter. There was nothing left now. Nothing but the brick and mortar edifice.
Mystery lifted the bottle to her lips and drained the last of the sharp, bitter drink from it. Muttering a curse under her breath, she hurled the bottle at the building as if it was somehow to blame for all of the thoughts that swirled in her head. Reaching for the energy inside of her, she focused on the walls and imagined them blowing apart under the force of her attacks. One blast of destructive power after another hammered the walls, spraying jagged bits of brick and mortar outward into the night sky. She smiled grimly, thinking that the building burst and bled just like a body when she tossed her power at it.
Bit by bit, piece by piece, the exterior walls of the structure rained down to the weed choked lot that surrounded the building. The noise was thunderous and each concussive blast shook the ground under her feet. This was what it meant to be free, what it meant to have no one to answer to but herself. She took joy in the death of the place, laughed and smiled as it fell to her whims. For this moment, she was a god.
By the time she reached the lowest levels of the walls, she felt sluggish and foggy. Shaking her head in an attempt to clear it, Mystery stared blearily at the jagged remains of the building and struggled to focus on them. She wasn't done yet, had no intention of leaving this place until there was nothing standing of the building at all. It seemed to take forever to center her attention on a stretch of wall that stood taller than the rest. It should have been easy to do, should have been easy to blow it into tiny pieces. But it took too long to focus. Too long to call up the energy. Too long to send it flying toward the section she wanted to destroy.
Part of her mind was screaming that she was at her limits. She'd expended a great deal of energy earlier and hadn't had time to replenish. In fact, she didn't think she'd eaten since that morning, almost a full twenty four hours ago. Add to it the alcohol she'd consumed and the emotional upheaval that she'd suffered and she was running on little more than fumes. The more rational corner of her brain told her that she was pushing herself too far, that she needed to stop before she did damage to herself. But she ignored it, shoved the warning away and let go another ball of energy.
A cry left her lips as her head exploded in pain, fragments of thoughts stabbing at the backs of her eyes until she was blind to everything around her. The ground was rough under her knees, even through the smooth leather of her trousers. Pebbles and glass and other materials scraped at her palms when they hit the ground and her head hung down between her arms. She wasn't done yet. There was still some wall to blow up.
It took every last bit of strength she possessed to lift her head and stare at the torn frame of the building. Despite the bright light of the moon, it was hard to see past the shadows clinging to her eyes. Gritting her teeth, she shoved one last minor bit of energy at the remains of the structure. It felt as if something inside of her shattered. She watched the image before her tumble and spin into a giant whirlwind of different grades of shadows. She felt sick.
As she was tumbling to the ground, limp as a ragdoll, she thought she heard someone call her name. But she couldn't be sure. And then it didn't matter any more because the darkness rushed up to drag her down into its embrace.
wanna catch up on all my stuff? check this link out. its got everything! The Ultimate ldf Fic Index
the pairing Daz gave me was Mystery and Remy. this is post-SVHQ and the men have been back in the real world for some time. when i first got an idea for this, i was simply going to have Mystery in a bar and Remy was just going to show up. then the bunnies came out of hiding and started biting me. vicious little bastards, let me tell you. and they kept coming. this would have been done some time ago, but a certain Muse, who shall remain nameless and locked in a closet with the door and walls wired with explosives, kept pissing around and taking his own sweet time with this. so, yeah... my writing has suffered this month as a result. now maybe i can move on to something else.
Title: Revelations
Word Count: 6,677
Pairing: Mystery and Remy (Supervillainess round robin)
Rating: adult
Warnings: lots of bad words, sex, threats to masculine body parts, abusing defenseless buildings
Summary: after a failed tech heist, Mystery is forced to confront her past and her feelings. wanna talk about a bad day? when it rains, it fucking pours.
Another explosion echoed along the alley, not far from where she was hiding. Damn it! Why had it been them? Of all the superheroes to corner her, it was just her luck that she'd gotten the two men she couldn't beat. Not even in an unfair fight. The pile of rubble she was behind shifted to give her warning and she dove to the left only seconds before a head popped up over the top, facial features hidden behind brilliant yellow spandex. She blindly tossed a mass of power back to the pile and felt the ripple of energy when bricks and concrete exploded upward in a spray of deadly debris. There was a dull, meaty thud as a heavy body hit the ground.
Oh, great. Now he was really going to be pissed at her.
"Give it up, girl. Gonna get ya sooner or later," Logan's voice was gruff. She thought she heard equal measures of pain and approval in his tone. She'd consider it later, when she got the hell out of there. Right now, she was more concerned with getting her ass out of this mess in one piece. How the hell had it all gone to shit the way it had? How had they known when and where the girls would strike?
It was supposed to have been a simple snatch and grab job. Ria had located some tech she needed to enhance security and several other programs back at the volcano. The five of them had come in on a weekend, during the day, when no one would be working at the company they'd planned on hitting for a couple of days. It should have gone smoothly, quickly and easily. Instead, it had turned into a goat fuck of epic proportions.
Within minutes, literally minutes, of their arrival, an entire fucking troop of superheroes had shown up. They'd been waiting for the five of them when they'd tried slipping out of the building. There'd been two of them for every one of the girls. Cyclops, Wolverine, Nightcrawler and Gambit had shown up to represent the X-Men. Thor, Ronin and Iron Man were there from the Avengers. Spiderman, the Human Torch and Daredevil had rounded out the group. Everyone of them with any part of their faces exposed had worn a look of expectation. And anticipation. They'd obviously wanted payback. Chances were good that those with full masks had been wearing the same look.
It had been so easy for them to divide the girls up. She'd tried to create diversions by blowing anything up that she thought could prove dangerous. But they'd obviously been expecting it, because the men began splitting into pairs and driving toward her partners in crime. Last she'd seen, Ria'd had Thor and Summers hot on her tail as she'd tried to make it to the jet. Kiera had disappeared behind a sheet of ice, thanks to the destruction of a nearby fire hydrant. Johnny Storm and Clint Barton had taken off after her. Ruby had run, Kurt Wagner and Peter Parker hot on her tail. Rose had been confronted by Tony Stark and Matt Murdock. Which had left Remy and Logan for her.
Mystery tried to catch her breath, gasping loudly as she drew air into her lungs. She knew it was pointless to try and be silent. Even if she was, Logan would be able to smell her. He'd had plenty of opportunity to memorize her scent. He'd find her again soon enough. And easily, too. He was right. It was only a matter of time. "You ain't got a chance, Mystery. Give up now and ya don't gotta get hurt."
"Go fuck yourself, Logan," she snarled and hurled another mass of energy toward the last spot where she'd seen them. She was trying hard not to give in to her more desperate tendencies and blow some part of him up. He'd just heal it up. And it would piss him off even more. "I think I'd rather inflict torture upon myself than let you capture me."
She was dismayed when she heard his chuckle and it was far too close for her comfort. Obviously, her last attempt hadn't come close to hitting them and they'd moved up on her. "He right, petit. You give up now and you don' get hurt."
Her body shuddered in response to the sound of the Cajun's voice. Damn it! It wasn't fair that he could do that to her with nothing more than a handful of words. She took refuge in her anger, pulling it about herself in an attempt to try and keep him from finding a way in again. She resorted to the only weapon she had in her arsenal that would hurt him. Sarcasm.
"Oh, my. Is that real concern I hear in your voice, Remy?" She snorted and dove under a low set of steps. The wall beside her exploded in a shower of rubble. "Don't tell me you still think I hold some kind of feeling for you? Poor boy. So deluded. What has that woman done to your mind?"
Her answer came in the form of another spray of cards, another series of explosions, another spout of debris. Mystery crawled from under the steps to find Logan waiting for her. Panic hit for a brief moment and her power flared. She knew her hair had gone from its usual colors of red and black to the pink and purple that said she was running on serious juice. It was what had earned her the name she used as a villainess. The electric feeling of her energy flooded her and she threw her hands out. She didn't even recall making the decision to do it. She just flung power at him and watched as the explosion rocked him off his feet.
She ran. And she could hear the Cajun right behind her, the flapping of his trench coat loud despite the way her heart pounded in her chest. Despite the way she gasped for air, drawing one ragged breath into her lungs after another. Some sense warned her and she dropped, sliding painfully across the concrete beneath her as he vaulted easily over her head. She watched him land with grace on both feet, a faint smirk twisting his lips up. "Don' do dis, Mystery. Give up before you get hurt." The smirk died and she watched something else come to life in his eyes. "I don' want to hurt you."
"Where as I have absolutely no compunction about hurting you," she replied and threw her hand out. The wall to his right exploded loudly, bricks and mortar and showering down around him. She didn't stop to see if her aim was true. She simply gained her feet and sprang forward, barely avoiding being buried under her own destruction. As she took a left at the corner, she caught a glimpse of yellow coming toward her. Shit. Couldn't he take a couple of minutes? Relax? Grab a coffee and a doughnut? Maybe play skewer the buffalo or something? Obviously he'd healed. She couldn't even take a second to be proud that she'd blown part of him up. Fucking healing factor.
It was plain to her that they'd paired off according to who could effectively deal with each of the girls. And there was no way she could fight off both Logan and Remy. Logan wouldn't die, no matter what part of him she blew up. Remy... She just couldn't bring herself to hurt him, no matter what she'd said to him. Not that she'd ever admit such to him. She had to hope that she could outsmart the two of them. Because it was the only option she had open to her.
And she was doing a poor job of it.
They were both behind her. She didn't look back to check. She just knew. She also knew that it was inevitable that they'd catch her, too. She wasn't a runner by any stretch of the imagination. Logan was, quite literally, an animal. And Remy had spent his life running, dodging, feinting, leaping. Anything that would help make him a better thief. She had the disadvantage and she knew it. They knew it, too. It was only a matter of time that they ran her down. And then... Well, she shuddered to think what would happen then.
There was an opening between the buildings and she ducked down the alleyway. Her temper snapped and broke when she realized she was in a dead end. Even before she pivoted on her heels, she knew that they stood at the front of the alley, blocking her chance to escape. Mystery glared at them for a few moments, then spun and ran, leaping across a pile of garbage that was going to offer her no protection what so ever. Shit.
She was dead.
Crouching behind the trash, Mystery took stock of her options. There weren't many. She was boxed in and stuck in a corner. There was a pile of garbage separating her from the two men who could do the most damage, both physically and mentally, to her. Her brain swam madly, searching for some way to get out of this. The whole time, she heard their slow, steady approach. Booted feet crunched on trash and detritus scattered across the concrete. A glance at the walls to her right and her left showed her that she was caught between two businesses. It might prove to be a way to escape. Except that there was no way she could blow a hole in the wall without bringing the whole thing down on her. She was too tired, too worn out, to concentrate properly. It would take far more care than she had to simply make a small hole in the bricked wall. And she didn't have the damn time, either.
"We got you cornered, Mystery. Come out now. We don't wanna hurt ya," Logan's voice was filled with gruff amusement. Bastard. He'd been enjoying playing chicken with her. Nothing pithy or snappy came to her, no really spectacular come back, so she remained silent and wished like hell she could fly. "This'll go easier on ya if you just give up now."
"And what? Let you put me in some kind of prison? Have someone tinker with my head and fuck up my powers? Leave me caged like an animal?" she snarled back. A slow smile spread across her face. "Is that what you'd want them to do with you, Logan? Put you in a cage and treat you like little more than a wild beast?"
"Gonna take more than ya got to get to me," he replied. "Give it up."
"Fuck you. Kill me. I'm not going to let you take me," she retorted with grim determination. She'd finally made a name for her family. There was no way she was going to let some do-gooders end it. Not here and not now. Not like this. They had special hells for people like her. Special prisons.
"Mystery." Remy's voice carried despite the fact that it was low. She closed her eyes against the power that he held over her.
"No. Go to hell. Both of you."
There was a moment of silence. The world slowed down to a crawl as she thought through the next few moments of her short life. Either Remy was going to blow the trash up and take her along with it, or Logan was going to come over the top of that pile with claws extended. Either way, it was going to hurt like hell. She spared a moment briefly to wonder if the others were still in danger or if they'd found a way out of it. A faint buzz against her hip made her smile. Someone had gotten to the jet and they'd locked on to her location. Now all she needed to do was get up onto a roof some where...
She held her breath, waiting to see what they'd decided. It was obvious neither one of them was sure just what they were going to do with her. Mystery was smart enough to know that the two of them were more or less playing with her. Either one of them could have taken her down at any time, had they chosen to do so. They'd been giving her a chance to turn herself in to them. She thought, for a moment, that neither one of them really wanted to hurt her. And then the decision was made. Snikt.
Shit. Logan was coming for her.
Mystery came to her feet, hands out as she gathered energy to her. She could feel her hair floating around her head, she'd channeled so much energy. And her hands had started glowing. It would be a big release. And it would leave her incapacitated if she let it loose. But she wasn't going to go down without a fight. And maybe, if she made a big enough explosion, it would give which ever one of her teammates was in the jet the time to pull her out of the alley.
Both men stared at her. Logan's claws gleamed wickedly in the light, a deadly reminder of what would happen if he got his hands on her. Remy stood a few feet from him, three or four cards grasped casually in his hand. She could almost feel the kinetic energy he was pouring into them from where she stood. "Last change, girl. Give up. Before ya get hurt."
Mystery ground her teeth together and looked for a target. "Fuck. You."
This was it. She was going to die. Logan took a step toward her, though it seemed almost hesitant. Remy didn't move, simply stood there and stared at her with those demon's eyes. Without taking her eyes off the men, she focused the gathered energy on the walls along side of them, splitting the large ball into two smaller ones that she planned on launching at the brick walls, just slightly behind the men. "Mystery..." Logan said.
"You know, I think I should have blown your dick up that first day. Maybe if I'd neutered you, you'd be more inclined to take me seriously. Go to hell."
Sweat trickled down the sides of her face as she held on to the power she'd gathered to herself. The strain was starting to show. If he didn't make his move soon, she was going to hurt herself. She was going to have to let it go, one way or the other. A movement caught her eye and she shifted her gaze so that she appeared to be trying to keep both of them in her line of sight. Remy's hand twitched again, a slight motion that she knew wasn't accidental. He was pointing, rather quickly, to the corner of the alley. For whatever reason, he was offering her a way out.
She replied by flicking her gaze toward the wall behind him. She couldn't be sure he understood what she was trying to tell him, but at least she'd given him a head's up. Gritting her teeth, she made herself ready. She had to trust to fate that she wouldn't kill either one of them or herself with what she was about to do.
"Time's up, girl," Logan growled and took another step forward. She drew a breath and heaved the power out toward the walls with all of her strength. The walls exploded outward, raining chunks of brick and pieces of metal down upon the alley. Not more than a second after that, Remy let go his cards and yet another explosion rocked the alley. A cloud of dust rose up to obscure to two of them. She turned for the hole in the wall that the Cajun had made with his cards, stopping just before slipping through it to look back at him. He was almost completely obscured by the fine gray dust in the air, but she thought she saw him smile.
Then she slipped through the hole and made for a stairwell. The last thing she heard was Logan's voice, growling in frustration. "Dammit, Gumbo! What that hell was that?"
She thought she heard Remy respond with something that sounded like "Oops" but she was too far away to be sure.
~*~*~*~*~
"Damn, girl. You look like shit." Jemma's face held shock and dismay on it. Mystery frowned at the woman and motioned with one hand toward the wall of bottles behind her. The blonde bartender nodded and turned to fetch her her usual drink. The tumbler that Jemma set before her was filled to the brim with rum, only a few token ice cubes floating in the amber liquid to keep back the warmth. She took a drink and grimaced, then set the glass down and took a good look at herself in the mirror over the back of the bar.
Despite a shower and some of Rose's healing ointments, it was obvious to anyone who chose to look closely enough that Mystery had been in one hell of a fight. There were scratches on one cheek and a bruise on the other. There was also a patch of raw skin on her chin. She knew for a fact, after having peeled out of her uniform, that the rest of her matched her face. She was stiff and sore and she wanted nothing more than to hide in a hole until she healed up. She also wanted to sneak up on the fucking Wolverine and blow his fucking spine out.
"What the hell happened?" Jemma was watching her with wide eyes. Mystery sighed and took another drink. A casual glance around the bar told her that very few of the people there would know who and what she was, though she thought she might have seen a flash of red in one of the darkened corners. Not that she cared. That one had seen her look worse.
"I got my ass handed to me," she murmured in a soft voice. It was the only way she could keep from screaming in frustration.
"Who the hell did that?" The woman asked, surprise in her voice. The two of them had known each other for a long time and she was well aware of what Mystery would and wouldn't do. Jemma had been a bartender at Outlaws for as long as Mystery'd been hanging out there. And it was known by all of the regulars that while she might look soft and sweet, she was quite capable of beating the shit out of anyone who caused trouble. Needless to say, no one ever caused trouble at Outlaws.
"I had a run in with a couple of the X-Men," Mystery muttered around her rum. Jemma made a noise of sympathy and shook her head.
"God damn superheroes are a pain in everyone's ass. Tell me you at least blew them up."
"Couldn't."
"What do you mean, you couldn't? I know personally that no one is off limits when you're in a mood. You blew up your mother, for shit's sake. Why couldn't you blow the sons of bitches up?" Jemma looked as disgusted as Mystery felt.
"It was nothing to do with not wanting to. I physically couldn't," she replied quietly. Everyone who frequented the bar knew of Mystery's talents and what she'd done with them. Finding out that there was something or someone she couldn't make explode would be bad for her reputation. Jemma stared at her for a while, then her eyes went wide in understanding.
"Holy shit on toast. You had him to deal with?" the bartender asked in awe. Mystery nodded and took another drink. Each time, the bite of the rum got a little less intense and she knew without a doubt that she was going to be shit faced in no time fast. What the hell? She deserved it. And she didn't have to worry about anyone from the dork side showing up here. No one had been able to follow her escape.
After Remy'd blown the wall out for her, Mystery had ducked into the building and then started up the stairs. She'd considered taking the elevator but had decided against it. The stairs would be easier to defend if either Logan or Remy had followed after her. As it was, neither one of them had and she'd gotten to the roof just as the jet had settled into a hover position over the building. She'd never been so relieved in her life as she had been when crawling into the plane. Until she'd found herself staring at the faces of her fellow partners in crime. All four of them.
No one had looked as if they'd had an easy time of it. There were bruises and scrapes, though no one had seemed to be injured seriously. Mystery thought that it had mostly been their pride that had taken the bulk of the damage. She'd happily taken the controls from Ria and flown them back to one of their emergency hideouts. The volcano had been compromised and they were trying to be careful about being seen any where near it. She'd left the others nursing their wounds and the bruised egos and gone in search of something to wipe the memory of the day from her mind.
"Is he as much an animal as they say?" Jemma whispered the question to her.
"And then some," Mystery replied. Of course, it could have been worse. She was relatively certain that Logan had been toying with her, that he could have taken her down whenever he'd wanted to. He'd given her more than one chance to give herself up. Shit. She figured he'd been more than capable of overtaking her as she'd run, that he could have simply tackled her to the ground and pinned her there with his superior strength or simply with the weight of his body. Even Remy would have been able to catch her. Men were dicks.
"How'd you get away?"
"The luck of the draw," she shrugged a shoulder. Jemma opened her mouth to ask another question, then quickly closed it when she spied the look on Mystery's face. Instead, the bartender's attention was drawn to some point behind Mystery and a slow smile spread over her face.
"Well, well. Would you look at that? Fresh meat and boy, does he look tasty." Jemma's voice practically oozed a combination of anticipation and sex. Mystery rolled her eyes. The blonde was always looking for either a fuck or a fight. Possibly both. She was welcome to whoever the man was. Mystery was done with the opposite sex. She was going to stick entirely with women now. It wasn't like she was hurting for female companionship. She could get what she wanted or needed from any of the girls.
The room around her went silent. Mystery ignored it and continued to swallow down her drink. When the glass was empty, she slapped it down on the bar with enough force to rattle the ice cubes still remaining and looked up at Jemma. "Another one of those, please."
"Of course, Mystery," Jemma nodded and turned to fetch her a fresh drink, taking the empty with her. She was gone a minute or two before returning with a full glass of liquor. As she was setting it down on the bar before her, Jemma glanced over Mystery's shoulder and nearly dropped the drink. "Oh, wow. Stud alert, girl. Right behind you."
"I'm not interested. I'm swearing off men for the rest of my life," Mystery retorted and lifted her second glass of rum, drinking the entire contents in a few short swallows. Once again, she slapped the glass down on the bar and shoved it toward Jemma. "Another. I'm drinking to my new, man free status."
She watched as Jemma glanced over her shoulder once again, then shook her head. "Sorry, girl. No more for you tonight. You're a mean drunk and I still haven't gotten paid back for your last display of temper."
"Damn it, Jemma," Mystery spat, slapping her palm against the wooden surface. The glass and the cubes inside rattled menacingly. "Don't do this. Just get me a fucking drink and be done with it. I plan to drink myself into forgetting that men ever existed."
"Now why you wan' go an' forget me, petit?" Mystery closed her eyes and swallowed as the bourbon smooth voice flowed over and into her. Why did it have to be him? What had she ever done to deserve this? Were the Gods angry with her? Or did they need a good laugh? Mystery nudged the glass forward and glared at Jemma.
"Another. Now." Her voice was short and filled with anger.
"She don' need another," Remy said, the tone of his voice suggesting that he wasn't going to be disobeyed. Mystery snarled a curse under her breath. Before she could say anything, though, Remy laid a hand on her arm. "We gon' talk now. Come on."
"Take your fucking hand off me before I blow it off your arm," she growled, refusing to look at him. This was the last thing she needed. How the hell had he found her there? Couldn't he just let her be? Wasn't it enough that he and Logan had made her look like a fool earlier? Didn't the bruises and scratches and blood prove that he was better than she was? What more could she give him?
"Mystery," he began and there was something in his voice that cracked the ice around her heart. She thought she'd gotten rid of those pesky emotions, purged herself of them so that she could keep herself safe. She'd been wrong. Before he could say more, she lifted one hand and halted his speech, then threw herself off the stool. Swinging around, she glared up at him until he fell silent. Then she turned and headed for the ladies' room.
The loud thump of the music playing over the bar's p.a. system was muted once she got past the bathroom door. It swung closed and blocked out everything and everyone else. The moderately sized room offered a measure of solitude and Mystery leaned up against the wall, eyes closed and hands raking shakily through her hair. She didn't need this. Not now. Not after the day she'd had. What had he hoped to accomplish by showing up here? How had he even known where to look for her? She looked up and found that there was a window set high on the wall. Perhaps she could slip out and disappear. She needed to get away from him before she forgot everything and gave in.
But she didn't want to.
"Shit!" she whispered and kicked her heel against the wall. "Shitshitshitshitshit!" Each time the word passed her lips, her heel slammed into the sheet rock behind her. The last time she said it, she put enough force into her kick to put a hole in the wall. She'd just had the single worst day of her life and now, he'd come to make it that much worse. It didn't matter if he was there to talk or gloat or throw her over his shoulder and carry her out of the place like a caveman. It was going to get worse.
Extracting the heel of her boot from the hole she'd made in the wall, she muttered a curse and staggered to one of the three sinks. There was a dull throb from her abused foot, but she ignored it. Better that her foot hurt than another part of her. A glance in the mirror showed her that tears glittered on her cheeks. Fucking hell. That was so wrong. She wasn't crying. She was not crying. Mystery didn't cry for any man. Ever. Anger rolled over her in waves and she reached for the knobs on the faucet, twisting them into the 'on' position violently.
She was still bent over the sink, cool water pressed to her cheeks, when she heard the door swing open. There was a brief pulse of music, bass and drums throbbing in her bones, before the door closed and cut the noise off as if it had never been. Perfect. Just what she didn't want was for someone to know she'd been bawling like a little girl. Without looking up, she reached for the towel dispenser she knew was hanging nearby. Her hand encountered a towel and her fingers closed over the warmth of another hand. Some feeling that she didn't even want to name shot through her.
Hard on the heels of that came anger, thick and rich and filling as a decadent piece of chocolate cake. Growling, she stood while jerking away from him at the same time. Remy was watching her with wary eyes, his hands held down and slightly out at his sides. He was trying to look as non-threatening as possible. She knew better and wasn't buying it for a second. Glaring at him, she felt her jaw clench. "What do you want?"
"We need to talk, cher," he replied softly.
"There's nothing to talk about, Mr. LeBeau," she ground out, reverting to a tactic she hadn't used in a long time. She watched as a muscle jumped to life in his jaw and knew she'd struck a nerve. "You made it painfully clear the last time we spoke just how you felt about me. Why should you want to discuss something that is obviously over and done?"
"Mystery," he sighed and took a step toward her. She threw up a hand to stop him and the mirrors over the sinks shattered. He halted and stared at her. For a moment, she thought she saw sorrow and regret on his face, but she had to be imagining things. "Don' do dis. Let me explain..."
"What is there to explain, Mr. LeBeau? You've already told me that you prefer the company of that... that... There's nothing to explain. I understood perfectly when you said you wanted her. Why are you here? Do you wish to rub my nose in it further? Make fun of the fact that I was totally stupid where you were concerned? Laugh over how I allowed what little bit of heart I have rule over my head and blot out all common sense? I was a fool to let you slip past all of my defenses. Kindly leave me alone. Next time, it won't be a mirror."
He didn't follow her when she scurried out the bathroom door.
~*~*~*~*~
A small pile of bricks shattered with a satisfying noise, sending dust and debris up into the air. She took a pull off the bottle of rum and frowned. She was alone here, lost in her own little world. The neighborhood had once been filled with a mix of houses and small, mom and pop businesses. Now it was little more than a dying creature, the broken shells and husks that had once been building slowly falling in on themselves. Except for those that she had vented her frustration and rage on. Several of the larger buildings had been turned into piles of rubble, small bits of broken brick and splintered wood heaped together as a testament to her temper.
There were a lot of those piles.
This was where she came to think, where she tried to sort out the chaos in her head. Mystery knew that some people would say she had issues. Those people would quickly find themselves blown to pieces. She didn't have issues. Her issues usually died a quick, painful death. Unless she missed. It happened. When she was drunk and her aim was off. Not often, but it happened.
There was an old apartment building standing on one corner of the dead neighborhood. It was seven stories tall with broad windows and balconies of wrought iron. Inside, it was skeletal, with wiring hanging out where pieces of sheet rock had been shattered out of the walls. The ceilings were water stained and molding, sagging in under the weight of age and disuse. The entire building was cloaked in forgotten memories and tarnished dreams. It would be a tender mercy to finally put it out of its misery. She'd been saving it for a special occasion.
Now was as fucking good a time as any.
After taking another drink from the bottle she'd brought with, she set it on the ground and started eyeballing the building before her. Ideally, she'd like to start at the top and work her way down and watch it all fall in on itself. But there was something utterly idiotic about standing inside a building when one was blowing it apart. Fortunately, she'd spent quite a bit of time studying the layout of the building, learning every single nook and cranny and crack and crevice there was to be found inside. In every room. She could walk the floor in her sleep, with her eyes closed and in the dark. And as long as she could visualize the layout of the place, she could make it explode.
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and brought up the mental map she'd constructed. Focusing on her memories of the ceiling, she drew upon the energy that filled her and gathered it together, sent it forth. There was a sound like distant thunder, followed by a gentle shifting of the ground beneath her feet. The bottle of rum threatened to tip over, forcing Mystery to reach down and pick it up. She looked up in time to see dust billowing up into the sky and a small smile slid across her face.
Each small burst of power saw walls exploding into rubble. Ceilings collapsed to the floors beneath them. Glass shattered with the slightest pressure put upon them. The building had long stood empty, so there was no need to worry over gas and electricity and water. She could destroy shit to her heart's content. She took great care in blowing out each section of wall, each piece of glass, each tub. Anything she could remember being in the building, she used her power to destroy it. And each part of the structure she took down, she reminded herself that she wasn't powerless, wasn't soft and stupid, wasn't a failure for the fiasco of the day.
She imagined that she was blowing up bits of the Wolverine and Gambit, destroying them the way they'd so thoroughly destroyed her today. They hadn't even thought her worthy of their full abilities, had simply planned on running her into the ground. As if she were some sort of prey animal being chased by a larger predator. A fiery mouthful of rum convinced her she was strong and fierce, that they would have fallen to her eventually. She'd only been panicked. And she'd been overwhelmed by memories...
Anger rose up in her breast again, hard and thick, to settle like a stone where her heart belonged. They deserved to die. All men did. They weren't good for more than a bit of pleasure. And even that could be replaced with a woman and a strap on. The more rum she drank, the madder she got. The madder she got, the more power she used. Soon, she was hurling great masses of energy at the interior of the building. The ground shook beneath her feet and nearly sent her to her knees more than once. She should have seen it for the warning it was, but she was too upset and blind. Too pissed. Too far gone to stop.
In seemingly no time, all of the walls and ceilings and other things inside the building were gone. She'd taken it all down, brought every single piece of plaster and piping and ceramic down into a pile inside the exterior walls. She imagined there was a giant heap of rubble inside. The light of the moon glittered off shards of glass, strewn about the exterior like bits of deadly glitter. There was nothing left now. Nothing but the brick and mortar edifice.
Mystery lifted the bottle to her lips and drained the last of the sharp, bitter drink from it. Muttering a curse under her breath, she hurled the bottle at the building as if it was somehow to blame for all of the thoughts that swirled in her head. Reaching for the energy inside of her, she focused on the walls and imagined them blowing apart under the force of her attacks. One blast of destructive power after another hammered the walls, spraying jagged bits of brick and mortar outward into the night sky. She smiled grimly, thinking that the building burst and bled just like a body when she tossed her power at it.
Bit by bit, piece by piece, the exterior walls of the structure rained down to the weed choked lot that surrounded the building. The noise was thunderous and each concussive blast shook the ground under her feet. This was what it meant to be free, what it meant to have no one to answer to but herself. She took joy in the death of the place, laughed and smiled as it fell to her whims. For this moment, she was a god.
By the time she reached the lowest levels of the walls, she felt sluggish and foggy. Shaking her head in an attempt to clear it, Mystery stared blearily at the jagged remains of the building and struggled to focus on them. She wasn't done yet, had no intention of leaving this place until there was nothing standing of the building at all. It seemed to take forever to center her attention on a stretch of wall that stood taller than the rest. It should have been easy to do, should have been easy to blow it into tiny pieces. But it took too long to focus. Too long to call up the energy. Too long to send it flying toward the section she wanted to destroy.
Part of her mind was screaming that she was at her limits. She'd expended a great deal of energy earlier and hadn't had time to replenish. In fact, she didn't think she'd eaten since that morning, almost a full twenty four hours ago. Add to it the alcohol she'd consumed and the emotional upheaval that she'd suffered and she was running on little more than fumes. The more rational corner of her brain told her that she was pushing herself too far, that she needed to stop before she did damage to herself. But she ignored it, shoved the warning away and let go another ball of energy.
A cry left her lips as her head exploded in pain, fragments of thoughts stabbing at the backs of her eyes until she was blind to everything around her. The ground was rough under her knees, even through the smooth leather of her trousers. Pebbles and glass and other materials scraped at her palms when they hit the ground and her head hung down between her arms. She wasn't done yet. There was still some wall to blow up.
It took every last bit of strength she possessed to lift her head and stare at the torn frame of the building. Despite the bright light of the moon, it was hard to see past the shadows clinging to her eyes. Gritting her teeth, she shoved one last minor bit of energy at the remains of the structure. It felt as if something inside of her shattered. She watched the image before her tumble and spin into a giant whirlwind of different grades of shadows. She felt sick.
As she was tumbling to the ground, limp as a ragdoll, she thought she heard someone call her name. But she couldn't be sure. And then it didn't matter any more because the darkness rushed up to drag her down into its embrace.
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