Disclaimer: Remy, Jean-Luc, Grovel, Spat, Belle, Sinister, and the Marauders all belong to Marvel. Blink belongs to Shera Crawler 007. Lizzie, Red and Devin belong to me, ask before using. Sydney is mine as well, and, sorry, but I have a little problem with letting people write her. Just something about letting anyone use my novel characters that makes my head spin all the way around (that and the fact that she'd kill me).

The Sun Will Shine Again
by Raven Adams
January 1999

Chapter 17

He searched for her everywhere, finaly finding her playing in a park with Assassin children. He jumped out of his car, and ran to her, thinking this had all happened before. But unlike then, he found Belle standing behind her, a knife at her throat as they both looked at him, waiting for him to make his move.

You be mine. Belle said, her voice not quite the same. The knife moved up slightly on his daughter's neck, and a trickle of blood ran down. He could see Lizzie swallow, as she looked at him, pleading silently for him to help her.

He couldn't do anything.

Then, mist, blue as the clear sky, swirled beside Belle and began to take form. The Daemon looked down at Belle and the child, then back at Remy. It is your destiny. From Waverly to you, your life was never your own. She reached out and touched Lizzie's cheek with her hand, still looking at Remy.

Sydney? Remy asked, not quite sure of himself. She looked the same, and yet, different, not whole. He dropped to his knees in front of them, begging for them to let his Lizzie go. I don' understand! You say you protect my Belle, you gave an' outh! Tears ran rivers down Remy's face, and he did nothing to stop, or hide, them. You swear t' your Gods you watch over her. It was then he realized what was wrong; her hair, and her eyes. They were a solid color. It wasn't really Sydney... was it?

I watched Waverly hold her child in her arms. I watched her tears rain down on the child's cheeks as she kissed him for the last time, then left him with me to watch over. I watched her take her last steps, I saw her taken down, and killed. I saw a great Daemon woman turned to ash and scattered to the four winds, all for her child. She raised her arm, and pointed at him. Your mother died for you, Remy LeBeau. And so shall your child!

With one swift move, Belle slit Lizzie's throat and pulled her arms away from the child.

Non! Remy screamed. He tried to get up, tried to move, but found neither his arms nor legs would work. He couldn't reach her, all he could do was watch as tears ran down his cheeks, and he heaved sharp sobs.

Lizzie fell to her knees, her hands coming up to her gashed throat, turning a dark red as her blood flowed between her fingers. Pappa... she gurgled as blood dripped out the corners of her mouth. Her eyes looked deep into his own, one last plea for some kind of help, then the light died behind them, and she fell to the ground.

Non! Remy screamed as a rush a cold air slapped him in the face.

He jumped to his feet as his eyes popped open, and his bo staff found it's way into his hands. He was ready to charge a card, ready for an attack, for anything but what he got; laughter.

Laughter surrounded him, and he blinked. He was still in the train car, the Marauders around him, Sabertooth and Scalphunter pulling open the car door.

The fast thumbing of his heart didn't slow any as he realized he had fallen asleep amongst these killers. His Lizzie's dead face still stared at him behind his eyes, scaring him more as he realized just how real the dream had been.

He hit the release button on his staff, and tucked it back into his trench coat. Then he sat back down on the floor, and pulled one knee up to his chin. God help him, he would save his daughter no matter what.

Lizzie squeezed her eyes closed, fighting off the temptation to open them and stare down whomever it was standing in her room. She kept her breathing deep and regular, and moved her eyes back and forth behind their closed lids, trying to imitate sleep, so that the person would go away.

Outward she appeared to be sleeping peacefully. Inward, she was screaming to get out of this place, and, somewhere, in the back of her mind, she was still crying from the pain she and Devin had shared. And deeply, as far in her mind as she could go, she was making a plan of escape.

She didn't care if she died trying, because even death would be a welcome freedom from this hell.

She couldn't bear it any longer, and her eye lids kept fluttering involuntarily. She yawned slightly, and rolled over to her side, burying her face in her pillow and pulling her blanket up to her chin.

There was a snort over her, and she felt someone tugging at the end of the blanket. Her eyes popped open when it was pulled off her completely, and she bolted out of the bed, slammed into the man standing over her, and slipped under his legs, only to find the doorway blocked. She screamed when she almost crashed into him.

Blink stood there, arms crossed over his chest, his legs spread apart. He took up the whole space of the doorway, and there was no way for her to get out. His eyes narrowed, and he lifted one hand, brushing his cheek where a long bandage covered the place where one of her knives had hit him last night.

She started to back up, her mouth opened and closing like a fish out of water. Non. She whispered when Blink took a step after her. Non! She yelled louder, and spit at him.

Blink watched the spittle fall short of him, landing on his boot, then looked back at her. He smiled, reaching behind him, pulled her daggers out from his belt. I believe these are yours, little girl. He said, tossing them to the other side of the room where she couldn't reach them, then started into the room.

Lizzie screamed again as she backed up against the dresser, and lost her balance. Blink was on her in an instant, kneeling beside her, grabbing both of her hands in his, that look in his eyes again.

Be a good girl, and I just might not hurt ya. He growled, yanking on her hands, pulling her toward him. Both of her wrists were held in one of his hands, and he used his other hand to trace a path down her jaw line. She shuttered, making him laugh at her. Such a pretty little thing...

Red frowned, unable to do more then watch the exchange as Essex's hand griped his arm painfully. But with the last words...

Red yanked his arm free, and took three huge steps into the room. He grabbed Blink with a choke hold against his throat and pulled him up. The man yelped in pain, and droped Lizzie's hands as he was pulled to his feet.

Red pushed him up against the wall, his hand burst into a bright ball of hot flames as he brought it close to the younger man's face. You ever touch her 'gain, I put dis flame where de sun don' shine. An' believe me, ami, you n't like dat, n'est pas? Blink paled, and nodded his head very slowly.

Discussed, Red let him go, and watched him scamper away to hide behind his master. Sinister flashed his sharp teeth in an evil smile, then backed away from the room, pushing his cowering 'Levolent out the door and yelling for a boy to be brought.

Red looked down at where his niece lay on the floor, her arms wrapped around her head as if to hide the world. He reached out his hand, slowly, and touched her bare arm. She jumped, and pulled back, moving toward the wall. Mon enfant, qu'ont-elles fait à vous? He whispered, going down on his knees beside her.

Lizzie looked out from under her arm. The soft words in French caught her attention, her fear suddenly melting away with the familiar voice. She moved her arms away, staring in disbelief at the face in front of her.

Est-ce que c'est vous, Oncle Red? She asked softly, unsure. Rust colored hair fell into his eyes of the same color. As he looked at her, she saw that grin, the one he used only for her, and he winked. With a sharp cry of joy, she threw herself at him and wrapped her arms around his neck hugging him as tightly as she could.

Ah! Oncle! J'ai su que vous et Pappa viendriez économiser moi! Red hugged her back as a sob shook his whole body. Lizzie couldn't help but feel it, and she pulled back away from him. Oncle? Wha'? Where Pappa? You... you come t' save me, non?

Red shifted on his knees slightly as he brought his hand up to brush away strands of black hair from her face. He looked at her ears, her hair, her face, even her fingers. She wasn't the same, they had done something to her. Even her voice sounded different, more grown up. I promise, 'tite, you never gonna see de inside o' dis place 'gain. He cupped her face in both his hands, and leaned forward to kiss her forehead. Get dressed. You be goin' back t' your grandpère.

She shook her head. I don' understand. Where Poppa? 'Ow am I leavin'? Wha' goin' on, please tell me, Red!

Red sighed, and sat back. Lizzie, mon 'tite, pretty belle, you Poppa de one who send you 'ere.

Jean-Luc LeBeau held his breath as he stared at the woman. The stench in the room was almost unbearable, and he took as few breaths as he could, because even when he breathed through his mouth, he could taste the stink. Even his eyes were watering from it.

Though he could barely breathe, his eyes kept wondering to her breasts, and he had some trouble keeping his train of thought. She wasn't young anymore, but her beauty from years past was still apparent. She barely even dresses. Thong, loin cloth, top that did little more then cover her breasts, boots and wrist cuffs were made from something akin to bear hide, and showed off more skin then stripers just coming onto the stage.

The woman looked at him, her blue eyes flashing as she swept her blonde locks away from her face. He took his gaze away from her breasts, she was old, true, but she was still dangerous, very much so in fact. Then we have a deal? She asked. We find your son, and your granddaugher, and we bring them back here?

Oui. Jean-Luc nodded. An' I give you de elixir. Half now, half den. But dere be risks.

She snorted, and shifted her spear from her left hand to her right, the chain rattling noisily. I know th' risks, LeBeau. I'm willin' to take 'em. She held up her right hand, looking at it. I'm getting old. That ain't so good for business, ya know? Now, we gonna do this, or are we gonna stand here yapin' all night?

Oui. We 'ave a deal. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small vile of misty green liquid. He shook it slightly, letting the liquid slid up the sides of the vile, covering the glass with a thin sheet of green. He looked down at it, knowing what it would mean if anyone ever found out what he was doing. He handed it to her anyway.

That's it? She asked, snatching it from his hand, and holding it up to her face. Somehow I thought it would be something... more.

Wan' me t' wave my 'ands over it an' say some voodoo words? It don' work like dat.

She glared at him, her eyes flashing brightly. She leaned her spear up against the rock wall behind her, and popped the cork on the vile. Well, bottoms up. She said before tipping it into her mouth. It flowed like thick molasses out of the vile and onto her tongue. It tasted awful, but she swallowed every bit.

You feel sick f' a li'le while. Best t' sleep it off. Jean-Luc said, turning to leave. My son, my granddaughter. Find dem, bring dem home, an' you get de rest. N't 'fore, an' n't if de job done wrong. He walked out the door, shutting it behind him, and into the fresh air. He let out a loud sigh before he took as deep a breath as he could.

Some things where worth dying for, and Jean-Luc finally realized that those some things were his family.

Concluded in Chapter 18

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