A Dark and Stormy Night
A Dark and Stormy Night
xmlns="http://www.w3.org/TR/REC-html40">
A Dark and Stormy Night (NC-17, eventually)
Disclaimers: I own NOTHING you recognize in here!
Canada, or even the idea behind the fic.
That comes from Shkspr1048 and this is loooooooooooooong overdue!
A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST
WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… *glomp *
Readers/Reviewers: This is an
AU. ALTERNATE UNIVERSE.
616-verse or Evo-verse. Thank you and
have a good day.
It was a
dark and stormy nightname="_ftnref1" title="">
the crashing thunder making the window glass rattle and the beakers and slides
dance across the table. The scientist
sighed and rubbed his forehead in distraction, wishing that just once,
something would go his way. It was
nearly a year to the day after his wife’s deand and all of his work seemed to
be for naught. He had nothing to show
for all of his experiments, save for some test tubes of useless genetic
material and a very bratty set of twins, left to their own devices for the most
part except for the times when he could stir Mystique from her contemplation of
herself and his demise. The thunder
rolled again and somewhere in the house, glass broke. He sighed again and shoved himself away from the lab table,
vowing to himself he would try one more time, just once more, then if it
failed, burn the place to the ground and start over. The lab was a mess, something he usually deplored, but he had
been so sure tonight would be the night, that his formulas, so close to
perfection already, would finally come to fruition. Alas, it was not to be so, he thought to himself.
shrill bawling of his only son.
“Mystique,” he called wearily.
“Mystique, see to the boy!”
The blue demon
sighed into existence before him, appearing from who only knew where, and
looking painfully bored. “Give him to
the Gypsies. They will make better use
of him than anyone here can,” she yawned.
“He is not my responsibility.”
Eric
narrowed his eyes at her and barely held in a snarl. She was chosen, chosen over a century ago just for him, though he
doubted his grandfather knew it at the time.
Mystique had already been more than generous with herls als and fluids
towards Eric’s experiments but his next use for her would surely tax her
greatly, in patience if not in body.
“You’re a servant in this house, Mystique. You will do as you’re told.”
He turned his back on her, an insult to which she had long since become
inured. “I’m close.
“I’m sure,”
she sighed, vanishing. A moment later,
Pietro stopped crying.
Eric stared
at the machine before him, a creation of his own design that he was sure held
the secrets of the strands, sure would be the linchpin to his success in his
experiments. It was massive, easily
spanning one wall, a tangible mathematical equation mated with theoretical
science to create—to potentially create—life.
Life all on it’s own. No sperm,
no egg, no mating save for two perfect strands of DNA.
surface and murmured softly, “You’re my savior, you know…you cannot fail
me…” His words were punctuated by a
loud crack of lightening that made the basement laboratory as bright as midday,
the roiling thunder deafening as the lights flickered in the wake of the
electrical emission. His breath caught
in his throat for one interminable moment, hope warring with fear in his breast
until… “NO!” The lab was plunged into
darkness, every breaker and safety measure overridden by nature.
heating units sizzled dead. The
behemoth of a machine before him became eerily silent and still, no faint
tremors of life answering Eric’s frantically patting hands.
thing, the year of work, the decades of planning beforehand, one handful of
seconds could destroy it all. Before
Eric could cry out in sheer terror, the power groaned back into existence.
life in the yellowish glow of the emergency lights as the generators kicked
in. Eric breathed a sigh of
almost-relief as he hurried to the computer at the far end of the lab bearing
the “vital statistics” of intricate experiment. In the half minute the power had been down, three of the
potentially viable entities had become unviable, six racks of test tubes filled
with what he referred to as the “primordial soup” had become unusable, and the
entire heating system in Bin Six had failed.
With shaking hands, he scrolled down to read the results for the system
reboot to Mother. Nothing.
activity. “No,” he murmured.
he upset the computer and chair, sending them both crashing to the floor.
the lightening and thunder crashing with his burgeoning panic to make his bile
rise in his throat. He fumbled with the
catch on the door hiding the precious experiment inside, tearing his skin in
the process. The test tube was cool to
the touch, not a good sign, and the liquid had taken on a sweet odor.
door shut again and pressed his face to the cold metal. “No, no, no!” he sobbed
unashamedly. “Not this time! No!”
the concrete floor. So close, so close…
He did not
know how long he lay huddled on the floor.
He was sure he imagined the shrill beep from the white machine until it
happened a second, then a third time. Eric
looked up, ashen. The row of red lights
on the front of the machine cycled, turned yellow, then green.
lights stayed on. Eric choked on a
laugh, joy rising insanely in his throat. “It’s alive!