„You know, you are generally supposed to hand a two week's notice."
Remy whirled around. He had thought that he was alone on the the bridge. The voice was a woman's but the accent was horribly, painfully familiar.
Remy had managed to convince himself that he had gotten away. He had believed that in Madripoor, the man called Sinister wouldn't be able to catch up to him. He was wrong.
Behind him was a young woman. Brunette, white wifebeater and a floral tattoo across her arm and shoulder. He doubted she was one of Sinister's clones. She wasn't the madman's type.
A red, glowing outline of a diamond would've given away whose words she was spouting, even if Remy hadn't guessed it before.
„Go to hell, diable." Remy wasn't feeling overly talkative.
"Language, Remington."
Something about the other's tone put Remy back to the time he spent in Sinister's service. Past-him would have apologized. Past-him would have tried to speak the Queen's English for the man to whom he might have owed his life. It was only the memory of his past inhibitions that stopped Remy from throwing some rather rude phrases at Sinister.
Remy took a long time to answer. Sinister, still possessing the young woman, using her like a marionette, waited. Probably not even God himself knew what the scientist was doing in his true body wherever he was. If God knew, he wouldn't allow those atrocities, or at least that was what Remy preferred to believe.
"Never had the sort of job where I had to hand in a notice. Mebbe I should try it sometime. The straight 'n' narrow." Remy grinned. He had wanted meet Sinister's gaze, but the blank green-ish eyes he met were more unsettling than Sinister's crimson ones.
"I would advise you to instead reconsider taking your leave from my employment."
"Can we negotiate, den? First bullet point: No more murder."
"Has the thief suddenly discovered his moral compass?"
"I never killed. I never-" Remy tried to defend himself.
"We both know that is a lie, Remington." Sinister cut him off.
"I never killed anybody on purpose." Julien's face forced its way in front of his mind's eye. The screams of the unfortunate people that had fallen victim to his power spike. He hadn't wanted to. He'd never, ever wanted their blood on his hands. That didn't make it any better.
"Well, that is certainly more accurate. A strong sense of morality is one of the many qualities you do not possess. Though, frankly it is one that I hadn't looked for in my employees."
Oh yes, Remy thought, I definitely hadn't missed being put down by Essex.
"Tell me Remington, do you consider inaction murder too? If I were to walk over there," A limp looking arm stretched itself to sign over at the bridge's edge, "and throw myself, or rather, this body, over the edge, would you simply watching it be murder?"
Unsatisfied with Remy's lack of a reaction, Sinister started putting his hypothetical question onto practice. With horror Remy watched the woman climb onto and sit on the handrails, leaning over the edge.
Following her before anything irreversible could happen, he grabbed her by the arms, pulling her towards himself. He was ashamed of the bruises he must've left on her arms.
"In that case you certainly would have quite a lot of blood on your hands." Those green eyes bore into him again.
Remy's grip only tightened in denial.
"What would your precious Guild say to that? Would they still take you back? Or would they see you as the monster you're so convinced I was trying to turn you into?"
Remy had no answer. Or at the very least none he wanted to acknowledge.
"Is this all? Did you track me down to have one last go at making fun of me?" Remy growled.
"No." Remy didn't know what the woman's smile was like, but what her face was stretched into in that moment was unmistakably Sinister's smirk, "I want you to return."
Sinister freed his arms from Remy's grip and stood again.
"I could still use your abilities."
"You said I was free after that job."
"A job you decided to derail."
"If I had known-"
"You would have put an end to it before it even began. I am aware." Remy didn't know that a tone that neutral could be that obviously mocking.
"If I still require you services at some point in the future, I will be able to procure them by force. I am giving you a choice. You should consider it. Quite frankly, you should be grateful for it."
"Wonderful choice," Remy spat, "sell my soul, and obey your will, or be forced to do so anyway? And the moment I turn my back on you, you'll change me, you'll… you'll make me like you! Emotionless. Compassionless. Cold." Remy didn't like the way his voice had sounded on that last part.
"What a display of childishness. I will not manipulate you. As long as you return willingly. In general, you will enjoy your terms of employment much more if you do not make me take any drastic measures."
"Oh, so you'll give me ten-"
"If it's another reference to that foolish book you base your narrow view of the world on, I don want to hear it." Remy had never heard Sinister that annoyed. It only made sense that the closest thing to an avatar of the devil on earth Remy had met in his life would have a strong distaste towards the Lord's word.
"Struck a painful chord there, didn't I?" Remy wanted to continue down that path. It had been the first time he had had anything even resembling the upper had in the conversation.
"Believe me, Remington. I want you as a willing servant of mine." Sinister deflected.
The woman's face once again contorted in a mockery of friendliness, and Remy knew to dread the words to come.
"Otherwise this," One hand pointed on the glowing outline of a diamond on her forehead, "would be you."
A moment later the woman collapsed.
Remy only just caught her. It wasn't as dire a fall as it would've been if she had fallen off the bridge, but he didn't want to let her drop either way.
He immediately noticed that lack of a diamond. Sinister had left. It was just him and her now. He felt empty and tired, like Sinister had sucked all his life out of him just by being near him.
When the woman suddenly opened her eyes, the difference was obvious. Her eyes were alive now. Alive, and afraid.
"Get away from me, creep!" English. She must be a tourist.
She pushed him away the best she could. While she did get free, she also immediately fell. The woman looked completely and utterly disoriented. Remy wished he had something to call her.
When she noticed the hand shaped bruises on her arms, she must've quickly made the connection to the man standing over her. Barely even bothering to give him another glance, and took off in the direction of the city.
"Wait, I don't want to hurt you! You shouldn't-" he gave up. Even if she still heard him, she wouldn't listen. She had little reason to.
As he lost sight of her in the neon lights and dark shadows of Madripoor, he was left alone with his own thoughts. He wished he wasn't.