magnetic ◊ criminal minds

lviii.

lviii. sinister
( season six )

"WHAT is this place?" Morgan asked. He had his flashlight and his gun out. Lyra only had her gun. Since her team learned about her mutation, she no longer felt so much need to hide it. From what they could see, it was a big open room with various tables and chairs scattered around. They had been investigating a series of disappearances, and Garcia had managed to track down a supposedly-abandoned place where the victims had been last seen near.

"My lab," said someone with a British accent from somewhere across the room. Lyra could see the electromagnetic field of another person leaning against a doorway, arms folded over their chest. The light flickered on, revealing who the person was. With the white skin, long black hair and the red jewel on his forehead, Lyra was vexed to realize she recognized him. She had never met him before, but she had heard of him.

"FBI, put your hands up," Morgan ordered, raising his gun. Lyra, contrarily, lowered hers, holstering it altogether. She doubted her gun would be very effective against him.

He smirked. "Nice to finally meet you," he said, looking directly at Lyra, ignoring Morgan completely. "Do you know who I am?"

"Mister Sinister," Lyra signed. "I've heard of you."

"And I of you, Lyra Lehnsherr, daughter of Magneto. Although I must say, it's unsettling to see you... fraternizing with lesser beings," Sinister said, sparing a judgemental glance at Morgan. He shrugged. "No matter."

"The hell did you just say? Daughter of- what the hell?" Morgan asked. Did he hear that right? Daughter of Magneto? This guy had to be trying to put a wedge between their relationship, play mind games. He looked between the two.

Sinister ignored him, pushing himself off the doorway and clasping his hands behind his back. "I'd appreciate if you would take your little human friends and leave. I have very important work to do here," he said, approaching Lyra with his head held high - he had no care for the gun pointed at him. But Lyra certainly interested him. "I'm sure we can convene at a later point." Lyra caught the captivated undertone his voice held. Before she could sign a reply, he got another idea. "Unless, of course, you'd like to donate your little friend to science. Then we could talk."

"Donate- what?" Morgan said, looking between Lyra and Sinister. "Who the hell is this guy?"

Lyra too ignored him. "Touch him, and I'll kill you," she signed, her eyes narrowed.

Sinister put his hands up. "Of course. Many apologies. But I'm afraid this must be done," he said. He walked between Lyra and Morgan, and once behind, hit Morgan in the neck. He hit the pressure point, which caused Morgan to slump forward, unconscious.

The next second, Lyra slammed Sinister against the wall, hands clutching his vest. Her eyes glowed electric blue, electricity starting to surround her body.

Sinister whistled. "You hold true to your threats, don't you, my dear?" he said, unaffected by his current predicament and how badly it could end in a second. "I'd appreciate it if you let go now. I promise not to hurt your lap dog again."

Lyra narrowed her eyes.

"We both know the reason you have not killed me is because you know I know something," he continued, raising one eyebrow.

Lyra knew he was right, but she did not like it. She released her hold on him and returned to her original state. He straightened himself out and pat down his suit, riding it of wrinkles.

"Thank you," he said, giving her a smirk. Lyra glanced at Morgan, who was now in an uncomfortable position on the floor. "Ah, don't worry about him. He'll be fine - physically. Learning about your true lineage, however, well, that he may not recover from."