Frank Walters drove through the unfamiliar streets of Westchester, New York. Born and raised in Chicago, he rarely ventured outside of his native city. He worked with the kids of the area, the ones made homeless and uncared for by the inconsiderate actions of others. He supposed, smiling slightly, that this particular mission was all part of the job. The boy, asleep in the backseat, was no different than dozens of other unfortunate souls he had helped over the years. Orphaned, alone and possibly already damaged. The only difference was, this boy was most certainly not human. Frank had found the boy wandering the streets, quiet and hungry and dirty. But he was trusting, and as soon as Frank had offered help, he simply took his hand and grinned. You only had to look at the kid to know he wasn't human. In his twenty year long career, Frank had dealt with a few mutant children, but never one so young. He had never had a good coping strategy with them. Most of them ran off when they hit puberty, when they discovered they weren't like the other children. But he knew of a place where, if the rumours were true, the little boy could get the kind of support he was incapable of providing.
And so here they were, Westchester, New York. Frank didn't have much of a plan, and doubted his knowledge. Would he just leave the kid on the doorstep? Go in for a chat and a cup of coffee? Start sending all the unfortunate mutants here? He took a deep breath as he pulled up to the house, prayed it was the right place, and glanced back at the boy. Still fast asleep, his little face hidden by an oversized hooded top provided by the shelter. The kid wouldn't be walking to the door, anyway. Climbing out and scooping him from the backseat, Frank Walters approached the gates of the mansion. A gruff voice answered the intercom, and Frank hastily explained his dilemma. There was a long silence, before the gates opened. So far, so good.
They were friendly enough, at this hour of the night. The man he had spoken to at the gate was short, sturdy and hairy. Then there was a woman with beautiful red hair and a warm smile, and a serious young man with dark glasses. The short man eyed him warily. The red head smiled at the bundle in his arms, and he felt his brain being tickled. It's nothing, he told himself, your mind playing tricks.
The serious one gave him a cup of coffee, which he accepted gratefully. It had been a long drive. He repeated his story to the trio, the child still asleep on his lap, drowned in the hood of the top, head nuzzled against his chest.
"Look, I've worked with kids my whole adult life," he explained. "I can't say that this is the first mutant I've come across, and I can't say I've ever had much luck with them. They need a different kind of…support, I guess." He sighed, remembering the children he had failed, the ones who had run off, desperate to hide from humanity. "This kid can't be more than five years old. He was wandering the streets on his own, hadn't eaten in days. He hasn't said a word. I figured this was the best place for him."
The red-head, who had introduced herself as Jean, looked at him sympathetically. She had scanned his mind, knew he was genuine, and sent that reassuring knowledge to her husband. With his grey hair, tired, friendly old eyes and paunch, she thought Frank looked more like a retired cop than a community worker. "Most people would have left him on the streets. You did the right thing, bringing him here."
"Nice to know not everyone hates us." muttered the man in glasses, Scott.
Frank just snorted. "Hell, I've been through what most of these kids have been through. Mutant or not, no one deserves that kind of life." Jean didn't need to read his mind. His eyes told her enough. He moved the boy, laying him on the couch. Poor thing didn't even move.
"He might need to see a doctor," Frank said. "He's probably a bit worse for wear, but he ate well earlier. A couple of hot meals would probably do him a world of good."
They chatted for a while, even the rough looking one who had spoken over the intercom joined in.
He left when he noticed the hour, leaving his number with the strange bunch. I'm sure I'll probably end up sending a few more kids your way at some point, he had told them as he left. Nice to know these kids have somewhere they can feel safe.
Jean smiled at that, said sure, no problem, I'll let you know how he does. And with that, he left for the drive home. His only regret was not coming here before.
He thought of the young souls he could have saved if he had sent them here.
Jean returned to the living room. Scott yawned, Logan threw himself into a chair. It was almost three a.m. and she had been planning on going to bed just before the visitor had arrived. Now, there were arrangements to make, a room for a start.
"Was he telling the truth, Jeannie?" Logan asked, glancing at the kid.
She nodded. "Odd as it may seem, there are some actual good Samaritans in this world. Looks like we've got a new family member." She smiled, and Scott grinned at her.
"Are you really up to looking after a five year old?" he asked, laughing.
"How much trouble could he be? He's so small." Jean looked at the hooded bundle on the couch, his back to her, suddenly broody.
"Great, now you've jinxed us." Logan grumbled. "I'm not babysitting when you get bored."
The child in question stirred, stretching. They hadn't looked at him, not properly, his small frame and features hidden by oversized clothes. He pulled himself off, little fists rubbing at his eyes, turning round suddenly when he didn't recognise his surroundings. He had seen this place before, in his head. He pushed back the hood and tried to roll up the massive sleeves. He grinned at them.
"Holy shit.." Logan whispered. Jean didn't even admonish him for swearing in front of the child. Her jaw was too busy hitting the floor.
"Hi!" The child said brightly. His skin was pale, porcelain white. His hair was a dark, matted mess on top of his head. One eye was covered with a round black patch tattooed on his skin, like a bruise. His eyes were sparkling violet.
The three X-men stared.
Jean kicked into action, moving to sit beside the boy, trying to hide her shock and make him feel welcome. She took him into the kitchen in search of juice, turning momentarily to shrug her shoulders at the two men.
Scott cleared his throat. "Umm….I take it you noticed the resemblance."
Logan snorted in disbelief. "How could I not, Slim?"
"Are you going to call her?"
Logan contemplated his options. Guess you really can't run from your past forever, he thought. Neena, I hope you don't get hurt by this….
Alberta, Canada
Domino slowly came to, trying to focus her mind and remember where she had put her emergency cell phone. Untangling herself from the sheets, she glanced at the clock. 3 am. Who the hell would be calling her at 3 am? She fumbled for the phone in her backpack. The display read a familiar number. Westchester. Dammit.
Logan greeted her with a gruff 'Hello, darlin', at which point she cursed him for waking her at 3 am on what was her first proper night off in weeks.
"You had better have a damn good reason for wakin' me, old man." she grumbled, reaching to switch on the light.
He chuckled. "I think it's a good enough reason, Neena. You need to get down to Westchester now. I got something I need you to see."
"What is it?"
He was quiet for a moment. "I can't explain it, kid."
"Logan, I am not rushing back to Westchester because you got something to show me. What is going on?"
"Just..just trust me kid, OK?"
She sighed, rubbing her eyes. "Always. I'll be there as soon as I can."
Domino hung up. So much for her night off.
Westchester, New York
In the morning, Logan made his way to the medlab, where Jean had brought the boy. He sat on the bed, arms folded over bent legs, a look of stubborn determination on his face. Damn, he's just like her, Logan thought. The boy, whose name was Lazarus, had informed Hank McCoy that he did not want to be tested or treated or touched, all rather politely.
"Is Domino on her way?" asked Beast, still hovering over his computer.
"Yeah. I didn't tell her anything. She could be as clueless as we are."
"I doubt it," said Scott Summers. "He's the spitting image of her."
"I wouldn't be so sure, Summers. I've known Neena since she was twelve years old, and she ain't ever said a word to me about where she came from. Hell, I don't think she even knows."
Scott sighed. His interest in Domino stemmed from her involvement with Nathan, and now that that seemed to be over, he should have stepped aside. But she had been closer to Nate than even he had managed, and something gnawed at his mind.
"You don't think that's her kid, do you?" he asked, tentatively, knowing how protective Logan could be of any of his surrogate 'daughters'.
Logan laughed aloud. "Neena? Not a chance. I taught her better than to bring a kid into the merc life. What, Summers, you worried you're a granddaddy and didn't know it?" he smirked.
Scott flushed. "Relax, Scoot. Even if that is her kid, which is highly unlikely, I would doubt your boy had anything to do with it. He was too busy treatin' my girl like shit to do something that stupid."
Cyclops was tempted to fight back, but knew it was pointless. Whatever had happened between Nate and Domino, it hadn't been pleasant or painless, and he wasn't about to get into an argument with Logan out of paternal concern. Even if, as rumours held, Logan's relationship with the mysterious mercenary had gone past paternal and beyond platonic. That was a can of worms Scott didn't even want to think about opening.
"When will she get here?" he asked, tactfully changing subject.
Logan shrugged. "Depends where she is. She's back doing solo work again, not that I blame her." She had been damned good at working alone, and many times he wished she hadn't run off to join Cable and Bridge.
"Is he alright, McCoy?" Beast was involved in a three day overhaul of the medical computer system, and the boy had been a welcome distraction.
"All I can tell you is what I see," Beast offered. "He has decided, apparently, that he doesn't need medical attention and is absolutely fine, thank you very much." Lazarus just grinned at him. "A thorough distaste for medical examinations must run in the family." Beast muttered, wincing at the memory of trying to coerce the lovely lady luck into having a physical when she was last here. He was lucky the lab was still intact.
Scott and Jean tried their best to pry information out of the young boy, while Logan stepped outside to wait for his favourite mercenary.
She had made it to the airport, as luck would have it, just in time to catch the next plane to New York. The sun was up when she finally arrived at the mansion. Domino had hoped for some sleep on the plane, but her nerves wouldn't let her. She racked her mind trying to figure out what Logan had found. Was something wrong with Nate? Their link was no longer active, and she wouldn't have known if something happened to him. The X-types had little to do with her, even less now that she was no longer involved with X-Force. Those were her only links to them these days. But she trusted Logan, knew he wouldn't have wasted her time.
She stalked through the mansion, having been greeted by an offensively cheerful Bobby Drake, towards the medlab, where he told her she would find Logan. He met her outside the door, waiting patiently for her.
She couldn't help but smile when she saw him, though she tried to bite it back. "This had better be good, old man. I had to cancel three contracts just to be here."
"You're gonna work yourself into an early grave, girl." he said humourlessly.
Already been there, she thought bitterly. "What's going on, Logan?"
He sighed. "Look kid, I don't know how to explain any of it to ya. All I can say is, ya might want to take a deep breath before you go in there."
Her look was as serious as his, and she knew she wouldn't lie to her. She steeled herself, half expecting to walk in and see Nate dead on the operating table. She couldn't think of any other reason the X-men would want to see her.
Jean Grey, Hank McCoy and Scott Summers turned to look at her as she entered, the room unbearably silent. They were watching her, nervously awaiting her reaction to what she hadn't seen yet.
She heard him say her name.
"Domino?" his small voice was filled with excitement, as he jumped from the bed to run and greet her. Her heart stopped. She kneeled to receive his embrace, too shocked to care about how she looked to the others.
"Lazarus," she whispered. You were supposed to be safe. I left you there so you would be taken care of.
Hank cleared his throat. "I wanted to check the boy over, make sure he wasn't hurt, but he wouldn't let anyone near him."
She glanced at Beast quickly. "He doesn't like doctors." Too many bad memories. Boy, can I relate to that.
"It wouldn't do him any harm," Logan said from behind her. "Looks like he's had it a bit rough, lately."
She sighed heavily, closing her eyes. McCoy and Logan she could handle, but having Nate's parents hovering over her was not going to make things easy. Undoubtedly Jean had been called in to nosy into the boy's mind, as telepaths were wont to do.
"Lazarus." he pulled back to see her face. She held his chin lightly in her hand. "Dr. McCoy isn't like the other doctors. He won't hurt you, he just wants to make sure you're ok."
The little boy contemplated that for a moment. "You promise?"
She smiled. "You know I won't hurt you. You said that yourself, remember?"
He grinned at her, all tension gone. He turned back to Hank.
"You've made a wise choice, young man!" McCoy said jovially, offering his hand to the child.
"Can we play after? The other doctors never let me play afterwards." The question made Domino flinch, and if it disturbed Hank, he didn't show it.
"As long as you don't touch my computer, my boy, you can do anything you want. And I'm sure a certain Mr. Drake would appreciate having someone of a similar mental age to play with."
As soon as the pair were safely curtained on the other side of the room, Domino whirled on the three X-Men.
"Where the hell did you find him?" she growled.
Logan stepped toward her. "A guy found him wanderin' the streets in Chicago. Figured it was best to bring him here." He grimaced at the worried look in her eyes. "You want to tell us what's going on, darlin'?"
Domino grimaced. "Not particularly." She said, with a pointed glance at the Summers. "I need to talk to him." She moved to the other side of the room, waiting impatiently until Hank drew back the curtain, with a still smiling Lazarus sitting happily on the bench.
"What's the diagnosis, doc?" Logan asked, following Domino.
"A clean bill of health, dear Wolverine, though in desperate need of junk food and mindless television." Hank beamed. "He hasn't even heard of Sesame Street. Life's no fun without singing puppets."
"Can I go play now, please?" Lazarus asked, as Domino kneeled in front of him.
"Just a little minute, I promise." She took his hand in hers. "Lazarus, when did you leave the church? Does Father Boschelli know you're gone?"
"Mother came for me, in the night. I didn't get to say goodbye to my friends." He frowned. "Do I have to go back to the bad place, Domino? I don't like the doctors there." His little violet eyes darkened. It hit her just how much he had been through in five short years.
"No, you don't have to go back. I promise." The bastards had stolen her entire childhood, she wasn't about to let the same thing happen to him. "What happened after that? How did you end up alone?"
"She took me somewhere. She told me she had to kill me. But she kept talking to herself. Sometimes she just didn't see me. We were there for a long time and sometimes she forgot to feed me."
Domino swallowed hard. "What happened next, Lazarus?"
"She said she was going to do it. But her friends came."
"Friends?"
He nodded. "Remember? The ones who were there when you came for me. 'Cept they weren't being very nice to Mother. They said they wanted to take me away, cos they needed me." His face darkened. "Then they started to hurt Mother. She wasn't moving. An' then I made them all happy and I left."
"You…used your powers?"
He nodded and grinned. "I made them happy and they stopped hurting her. They didn't want to hurt me, but they wanted to take me away. They said I was a m-- a mesh…"
"Messiah?" offered Hank.
His face lit up. "Yep! But I didn't like them, they weren't nice. What's a messiah?" he said the word carefully.
Domino smiled, bitterly. "I'll tell you later." She sighed. "Hey, you hungry? Want to get something to eat?"
He nodded enthusiastically. "Can Hank take me? I like him." She laughed at that, and McCoy grinned proudly.
"It would be an honour. We'll get something to eat, then ransack Bobby's room for toys. I'm sure he won't mind."
Domino watched the two of them leave. All eyes were on her again, and she felt suffocated. Elements of her past had just been laid bare in front of them. She could handle Logan knowing, but Scott and Jean seeing and hearing everything made her feel nauseous.
"I need some air." She muttered, pushing past Logan to get outside.
"I hate to sound so petty, Logan, but the curiosity is killing me." Jean almost smiled, trying to relieve the tension.
"Know what ya mean," he said, "but Dom's business is her business, and she likes it that way."
"He's powerful, for a five year old. I can just feel it radiating from him, and he hasn't even hit puberty yet." Jean noted.
"What do you think the kid meant about doctors? He was terrified the first time Hank tried to look at him." Said Scott.
Logan grumbled, "I ain't got a clue, Slim. Neena ain't ever been fond of 'em either. Too many bad experiences." He didn't know the half of what had happened to her after she left his care, but he knew most of it was bad. He left the medlab, in search of his old friend.
Logan walked through the mansion, stopping in the kitchen to look out into the yard. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of Bobby Drake in the back yard, throwing snowballs for Lazarus to catch. He listened to their conversation.
"What is it?" the kid asked, staring intently at the melting ball of snow in his hands.
"It's snow. I can make it. Haven't you ever seen snow?"
Lazarus just shook his head. "I've read about it. In my storybooks. There were pictures of snowmen. Can we make a snowman? It looked like fun!"
Drake laughed, and worked his magic. The kid laughed, fascinated by the ice and snow that Bobby created in the middle of Spring. Hank watched, pleased for the unusual distraction from his work. Bobby leaned in to whisper something in the kid's ear. Lazarus proceeded to pick up a handful of ice and snow, only to throw it at a distracted Beast. Logan laughed. Bobby pitched a fit, and the kid squealed in delight. He wasn't distracted enough to not notice Domino step into the room.
She watched the scene outside, a smile tugging at her tired features. Her body was almost twenty years younger than it should have been, but her eyes hadn't changed. Logan hated looking into her eyes sometimes. When she was young, he told her she could use them as weapons; one look and you forgot your own name. Now they told the hardship of her life, years of fighting and killing and torture sessions. He wondered if he could have protected her from all that, if he had made her change her mind about running off to join the Wild Pack. Then again, getting her to change her mind was a task few had ever had the patience for.
"Cute kid. Looks just like you." He hinted, because he knew how easy her temper could skyrocket. He certainly hadn't taught her how to control that.
"Christ, Logan, he's not mine, if that's what you wanted to know." She sighed. "Though I'm sure that's what everyone is thinking. Everyone around here has such a high opinion of me, they probably think I got myself knocked up and dumped the kid at the first chance."
"You really believe that?" he asked.
"Hell, Scott and Jean still look at me like I'm some devil woman who spent years trying to corrupt their oh-so-innocent little boy."
"I always blamed him for corrupting you."
She snorted. "You corrupted me, old man." He laughed.
"Yeah, you were all sweetness and light when I met ya; you were beating up full grown men in Madripoor when you were twelve." It wasn't a pleasant memory, but it was the truth. She laughed in spite of herself. "You were tough as nails when I met you, and I never coddled you."
"Never." She smiled. Logan hadn't try to change her, to give her back what she had lost. He gave her the best life that he could, based on the potential he had seen in her. Twelve years old, and he could see she was a born mercenary. That was a depressing summary of her life. She returned her gaze to the window. "That kid's been through hell, you know. He's still too young to understand it all, and I hope he never has to deal with half of it."
"He's safe here, you know. He can stay, no questions asked."
Domino nodded, biting her lip, but she didn't say anything for a long moment. Hank had managed to put an end to the snowball assault, and the three of them now focused on building a snowman. She watched as Lazarus occasionally became distracted, running the snow and ice through his fingers with a look of absolute wonder. Had she been so innocent at that age? Probably. But she had also been catatonic.
Logan broke the silence. "Jean says he's powerful. Do you know what we're dealing with?"
She nodded. "He's powerful alright, alpha-class easily. Precog, mind control…I've seen him use it. We're talking end of religion, here's your new messiah kind of powerful. There's a cult and everything, from the looks of things."
"Five years old an' already he's got his own religion. Don't suppose you told him not to use his powers?"
"I'll make a note of it. Just in case."
"Could be a good idea. Wouldn't want him destroyin' the world when he takes a temper tantrum."
She was quiet for another long moment, lost in thoughts and wondering how much Logan knew. "He's my brother." She smiled and sighed. "I didn't abandon him, when I found him. I thought I was doing what was best for him." Domino snorted. "Maybe I was just doing what was best for me. I mean, I've seen him use his powers, I knew I left too many people standing. It was stupid to think he would be safe in some orphanage, that he could have a normal life and never have to think about everything he's been through."
"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, Neena, but you can't blame yourself. Like you said, he's not your kid. You just did what you thought he would want."
"Maybe…or maybe I just didn't like to be reminded of where I come from. I don't want him to live my life. Maybe by bringing him here I've given him a fighting chance. It's more than I ever had."
There was truth in that, he knew. "You gonna leave him here?" Logan asked.
"Dammit, Logan, do you think I can take him with me? Dump him in day-care when I'm off doing a contract for god knows how long?" she dug her fingernails into her palm. "He's better off without me." Domino watched as the male trio outside once again erupted into laughter. "I'll stay until he's settled, 'til I know he's safe."
What he knew about her past would fit on the tip of his little finger, but he knew her reactions, her expressions all too well. One look in her eyes told him she was never going to handle the information she was carrying. "I'll keep him safe, kid, you don't have to worry 'bout that. Wish I coulda done the same for you."
She smiled, genuinely. "I was already a lost cause when you met me. You just gave me a reason to keep going. I'd have been dead a long time ago otherwise, 'Patch'."
He laughed. "Not getting sentimental in your old age, are ya darlin'?"
"Why break the habit of a lifetime?" She grinned at him. "And less of the old, hypocrite."
Outside, Lazarus laughed, full of freedom and happiness. She prayed he would never know anything different.
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Beatrice came to slowly, groggily. She was a pre-cog. She should have seen this coming. But her mind had become a twisted bundle of thoughts and images, too tangled to interpret. Dementia had haunted her adult life, augmented now by the horrors she had unleashed, the children she birthed only to watch them die, and the two who had survived to remember to what she had exposed them. The boy was meant to die, at her hands, so she could stop Armageddon. That had been her goal since the day he was born, but as her sanity slipped further away, Beatrice found herself unable to administer the fatal blow. Those damned violet eyes looked straight at her, unafraid, because he too could see the future, and knew he would not die, even when she didn't know. And so she had waited too long, and her former followers had come looking for him, with a new goal, a new religion.
It was they who held her now, these Armajesuits whom she had once led. Christ was unimportant to them now; they had felt the boys power, felt the all encompassing peace he had given them. They abandoned their old god so quickly. Now they were hungry for more, desperate addicts, craving the serenity. They converted others, promising the end of war, of hate.
The boy could do it, too. He could turn the whole world into mindless, serene puppets, or perhaps even the opposite. He could end war, or he could start it.
She had brought him into the world, offered her body to science; they wanted the perfect weapon, and they got it. But he was gone, uncontrolled. She knew she should have killed him the first chance she had got.
But Beatrice was weak, her sanity past breaking point, and tired, so tired. Lazarus was lost, and they were searching for him. No, she thought, not searching. Baiting him. Advertising their blasted new religion to the whole world.
She saw their plans flash through her head, forced herself to think lucidly enough to understand them. Death. One by one they would die, a trail of criminals and whores and abusers, until they found their messiah. Messages left for those who found the bodies, promises of peace in the name of their god.
Beatrice closed her eyes. She prayed she would soon see her own death.
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Domino smirked at the sight before her. Lazarus fit in with the X-men better than she ever had, not that she had ever wanted to. In fact they all downright adored him. He was cute and precocious and curious. Hank watched cartoons with him, he ran Bobby Drake ragged, and she had even caught Scott playing catch with him. But the sight of Logan telling stories with the boy on his knee wasn't something she had been prepared for.
"Careful, old man. " She warned, sitting down across from them in the living room. "You might ruin your tough-guy image."
Logan laughed. "Swappin' war stories, kid. An' this one's got a list of questions a mile long. I think he knows the life history of the X-men by heart now."
A week had passed, and the rest of the house had spent more time with Lazarus than she had. Subconscious avoidance, she knew. She didn't know what to say to him. He asked her questions, and she told him what little she could. He asked if Beatrice was her mother too, and she had thought long and hard about admitting it to him, and to herself. In the end she told him yes, told him she was his big sister, and eventually the whole house knew. Which means they were asking questions, she thought. But mostly she kept at a safe distance, content to watch him play and learn, because in the end there was no point in getting too close. She would leave in another week or two, and keep in contact, but that was all she could give him.
Domino snorted. "You had better not be a bad influence on him, Logan."
"Impossible. 'sides, do ya think you would be any better?"
"Touché." She picked up the remote and switched on the news as Lazarus continued his barrage of questions against Logan.