The television paints their living room white, the cries that echo in its wake a lullaby that no child should hear. But Celene is nothing but quiet breaths when Beatriz turns to look at her, swaddled up in a Boudreaux blanket wth one tiny hand clutching a much-loved teddy bear. For a moment, the fear that lines Beatriz’s brow falls; her grim frown replaced with a smile so warm it makes her feel like another person entirely. El Amor de una madre. Something that had been unreachable in Beatriz’s childhood; something she had wished to shower upon Celene for the rest of her days.
Celene Luciana Rosales LeBeau had been an accident; a terrifying, wondrous twist of fate that had left both her and Remy scattering for solid ground. A child had never been part of the plan; dios mio, the only reason they had married was to fulfil a pact between their guilds. The had planned great and marvellous things, and to see that plus sign had seemed nothing more than a hinderance.
But now? … Now, Beatriz couldn’t imagine her life any other way. Clapping along to cartoons to hear that little gurgle of a laugh; seeing Remy’s grin rival the sun whenever their chiquita reached a chubby hand up to him. If Remy had been Beatriz’s unreachable dream, then Celene had been heaven. Something that a person like her wouldn’t deserve in a hundred lifetimes.
The gunshots on the television are replayed; followed by the cheers of the crowd when the first Sentinel takes down his first target. Two different events, that happened almost simultaneously. A child murdered in cold blood for nothing more than an anomaly in his genetic code; the beginning of the purge for all mutantkind.
She shoves the palm of her hand against her lips, muffles the sob that rips at her chest. This cannot happen. Too many times, Beatriz has seen the people she loved died. Her mother was burned alive in front of her; her father shot in the chest and left to the animals. She cannot, will not, allow her family the same fate. "They will not touch her.”
Beatriz’s hands are shaking as she stands up and runs a hand down Celene’s curls one last time. Her eyes wander over to the closed door to the bedroom; if she listens close enough, she can hear Remy’s gentle breaths as he sleeps. It would be so easy to slip in beside him and burrow her head against his chest, use his heartbeat to drown out that mother’s screams and the whirl of the Sentinel turning on. But never giving up has always been Beatriz’s double-edged sword. And it would feel too much like defeat to go to sleep and let the troubles come to their door.
She takes in a shaky breath, pulls out her phone and eyes the text message on her screen.
you asked if you can help. i ask what can’t you do? you are as limitless as your powers, beatriz. meet me in new york if you’re serious.
“Dios, mantenerlos a salvo, si no otra cosa. Proteger a mi familia.” God, keep them safe, if nothing else. Protect my family. Beatriz leans down and presses a gentle kiss on Celene’s forehead. Tucks her in just a bit tighter before grabbing the backpack that she had packed only a couple of hours before. “I love you.” She says it to them both, though neither of them hear and, she is sure, neither will believe it when they wake up in the morning.
Beatriz offers no apologies as she steps through the door, her eyes dry even if her damned hands won’t stop shaking. This is for the best, she tells herself. She will protect them. No matter the cost.
“It’s been a month, Rose. Where is she?” He sounds more like a wounded animal than a man, and as he paces around the living room, all Rose can see is a man on the prowl. She doesn’t know if it is anger or fear that causes the air around Remy to crackle, to make her hair stand on end and the blankets to snap at her skin. The news is a quiet chatter behind them, something to break the tense silence that threatens to rip them all apart.
Beatriz left without a word, disappearing to God knows where and -- they were all at their wit’s end. "She’ll be back.” Bucky’s voice is uncertain at the statement, and it seems to further infuriate Remy. “This isn’t like her, and you know it! I knew she was worried about the uprisings but -- to leave? Why --”
Celene’s cry stops Remy short. Without a break in his pattern, he lifts her out of the crib and rocks her, saying quiet things in French that break Rose’s heart. “Rose, look.”
Bucky nudges her and nods towards the television, his face grim at the news. ‘This just in. William Stryker has been assassinated. I repeat, William Stryker has been assassinated. Following the world-wide wipe of mutant records, this is an incomprehensible blow to the Purifiers. Is this the act of a rogue mutant? Is -- oh, dear god.’
The camera switches to a street in Washington D.C. A lone woman with dark curls and bloody hands is running out of the Pentagon, surrounded in seconds by angry protesters and military police. The three of them watch in stunned silence as she is surrounded, as the woman stands straighter and the military point their guns towards her.
The sound of gunfire surrounds them, their eyes glued to the screen as that woman falls to the ground. Remy staggers to the nearest chair and sits down, his face blank as he stares at the television.
The camera goes back to the reporter, who has a satiated smile on her face. A picture flashes up on the screen, grainy and marked with the Pentagon’s stamp. “An unknown female is the apparent assassin of William Stryker, and the hacktivist who wiped mutant files. Is she mutant or not? We will find out with further testing, but this particular scourge has been eliminated.’
The three of them stare at that grainy image. The determined curl of her lips that Remy had seen during a particularly hard heist. The flash of a necklace that Rose had given her five years ago for Christmas. The way she held a knife that Buck had taught her only months before.
They had finally found Beatriz, and God, they were too late.
