Sinister Six

Memory Lane

A/N: Light profanity

Manon and Alistair were last out the door, or so they thought. Standing outside the wrought iron fence, Etienne and Oliver were exchanging a few choice words. With unease expressed on Alistair's face, he looked to Manon for reassurance. Alister was the sort to get easily distressed when he heard anyone engage in confrontation.

"Don't worry about them. Manon rolled her hazel eyes. "There's always something going on between those two."

Down the front steps- and out the iron fence, they set off to catch up with the others. Leaving Oliver and Etienne behind to sort out their differences.

"What do you think they're arguing about this time?" Alistair questioned gingerly. His gaze focused on his awkward feet, kicking rocks down the jagged sidewalk.

"I'm going to take a wild guess and say... Money. That's the only time they're at each other's throats." Manon professed bitterly, searching in her coat pocket for a cigarette.

"Want one?" Manon offered, holding out the carton of cigarettes to Alistair.

"No thanks... I'm trying to break the habit," Alistair mumbled.

"That makes one of us," Manon said under her breath, shoving the nearly empty cigarette carton back in her pocket.

The walk to St. Mary's Catholic Church was a trip down memory lane for Manon. The aroma of freshly baked bread looming in the air from Luca's Bakery. Manon was salivating at the thought of biting into a warm slice of sourdough bread.

Down the street, they passed what used to be Mr. and Mrs. Salernos' dry cleaning services. Formerly known as the best dry cleaners in town, was now an abandoned building. 

"Why do you think the Salernos' refused Mama and Papa's help to keep their business open?" Manon trailed off, fumbling to light another cigarette, but the lighter wasn't working. "Piece of shit..." Manon hissed at her lighter.

When she didn't hear a response from Alistair, she came to a halt. Alarmed, she quickly turned around to see Alistair staring at the abandoned dry cleaners.

"Thanks for leaving me hanging!" Manon called back with her hands cupped over her mouth resembling a makeshift megaphone.

Manon observed Alistair's reserved body language. She didn't say a word, instead stood by her brother's side in comforting silence. She watched him out of the corner of her eye. A tear rolled down his pale complexion. 

"Remember when Mama would send us to pick up the dry cleaning?" Alistair asked staring back at his desolate reflection in the jet-black window.

"Papa was so against it, but we begged and begged Mama until she gave in," Manon replied with a soft chuckle.

Manon noticed Alistair's half-smile in the reflection. She placed her hand on his shoulder. "Come on, we don't want to be late..." 

They were less than a block away from the church when they rounded the corner that housed a notorious pub called the Trinity, where a swarm of Yale students gathered every Tuesday night for the cheapest drink specials in town. 

"I can't believe that shit hole is still open," Manon uttered repulsively

"You know The Council wouldn't allow it to close... It's not that bad of a place." Alistair replied naively.

Manon stopped dead in her tracks, her breathing became heavy. "You know how I feel about that place. I can't stand what they use it for." huffing between her clenched teeth. 

Manon's flaring nostrils and pursed blood-red lips were enough for Alistair to immediately regret the words he just spoke. 

"I...I'm...sorry, Manon." Alistair stumbled over his words. 

"I'm not angry with you, Alistair."  Manon exhaled. She could sense the tension in Alistair's posture. 

"Just be careful when you go to the Trinity and I'm not with you, please. I wouldn't forgive myself if anything happened to you." Tears started to well up in Manon's empathetic eyes as she stared at her big, little brother.

Alistair reached down to interlock Manon's pinky finger with his "I promise." Hesitant to respond, Alistair squeezed Manon's pinky harder. 

"You know just because you're two years older than me, doesn't mean that I can't kick your ass." Manon laughed while pushing Alistair. 

Too many emotions had escalated for Manon. Her hands went straight away to her coat pocket to pull out a cigarette like a reflex.

A light sprinkle of rain started to trickle down the minute Manon and Alistair arrived at St. Mary's. A somber and dim sky matched the bleak, eerie-ancient architecture. The towering cathedral looked more like a glimmering castle when Manon was a little girl. Now, it resembled a dull-remote, ancient tomb that housed irrevocable sin.

Manon and Alistair caught sight of Percival leaning against the grey limestone church. "There you guys are," Percival said, exhaling a puff of smoke nonchalantly. "Where's Etienne and Oliver?"

"They should be behind us." Manon presumed, shrugging her shoulders while stomping out her cigarette.

"There." Alistair pointed across the street. Etienne and Oliver were rounding the corner. Etienne with both hands in his plaid wool coat, and Oliver holding a handkerchief to his bloody nose. Both of them hanging their heads in guilt.

"Don't even ask..." Manon instructed Percival. She shook her head remorsefully and let out a disdainful grunt. As Etienne and Oliver neared, Manon and Alistair proceeded inside the church.

A/N: Thank you for reading my story, your support means more than you know! I hope you stay with me on this journey through the Maxwell world. Your feedback and comments are very much appreciated! ☺️