Taken : An Illustrated X-men fanfic by Squeekness.

[squeekness]

“I don’t know. I hope so.”

“He looks strange. I don’t know...different.”

“Of course he’s different,” Leon quipped sarcastically from behind her. “He’s an alien.”

“He’s not an alien,” Kyle said impatiently. “He’s the ShaRain.”

“Oh, my mistake,” Leon said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Kyle Franks worked for Cameron Bishop, the leader of the Freedom Kings. The Kings was a group of mutants that fought for mutant rights as the X-men did, but were far less warm and fuzzy about it. They robbed banks to finance themselves and blew up the offices of anti-mutant human organizations, trying to show that mutants would not go down quietly. Cameron Franks had a good number of mutants on his crew. One of them was a Seer named Joshua. He had whispered to Cameron, his Master, that he’d had visions of a winged man with a large Mark, a tattoo of an emerald winged woman lying along the blade of a sword. This man would be powerful and strong, the perfect weapon for their cause. This man was the ShaRain, a word he could not explain, only that it was wrapped around Kimble in his vision. Cameron had responded eagerly by sending out Kyle to collect him. He was aware that Jael was also looking. A race that Cameron had now won, it appeared.

Kimble’s eyes slid partway open. “Fallen....” he whispered and reached out for her.
“What did he say?” Gail asked, leaning in closer to the pilot to hear.

“I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!” Leon giggled insanely.

“Quiet!” Kyle snapped. He sat down on the bed and took Kimble’s outstretched hand. “You okay, son?”

“I wants ta go home, Fallen...I feels sick.”

Kyle cocked his head in amusement at Kimble’s strange accent and mangled English. It was like a child had spoken. “You’re too sick to go anywhere. Try to sleep.”

Kimble curled up slowly into a ball, groaning. “My belly hurts...”

“Get the bucket from the bathroom,” Kyle said to Gail. “He’s probably going to be sick again.”

Kimble didn’t wait for her. He heaved and coughed up another volley of grey gel. It was streaked with large bands of orange plasma. Kimble whined and started to cry. “It hurts so bad....”

Leon snorted. “I thought he was supposed to be a big warrior or something. Look at him. He’s cryin’ like a little baby.”

“Warriors come in all shapes and sizes,” Kyle said angrily. He had no love for Leon and it showed.

“Gross...” Gail said when she returned. Kimble had spit up all over the bed. It gradually shimmered as it cooled and then vaporized. “Well, at least we won’t have to clean it up.”

“Convenient, huh?” Michael added with his usual comic laugh. He had helped himself to Kyle’s fridge and was slurping loudly on a can of soda.

“Fallen!” Kimble sobbed. He was in agony and wanted only her. “Help me! Fallen!”

“Is that a name?” Gail asked.

“Sounds like it.” Kyle rubbed Kimble’s hand. “Just take it easy, kid.”

“I wants ta go home... I’m sick... Fix me, Fallen... Makes the pain go away...”

“You’re not going anywhere just yet. What’s your name, son?”

Kimble curled up even more tightly. “I wants ta go home...”

“Tell me who you are and we’ll help you.”

“I hafta go home!” Kimble insisted.

“Where’s your home?”

“You know...the X-men’s place .... Just like we planned... Fallen... I promise I won’t be bad no more, just fix me, please...” he babbled deliriously.

“Oh, we are so screwed!” Gail said, covering her eyes. “Nobody said anything about the X-men being involved in this!”

“They aren’t anything we can’t handle,” Kyle said confidently. He should know, he used to live with them once so very long ago. He didn’t stay long, he just couldn’t buy into peace between humans and mutants without some kind of show of force by the mutants. Humans never seemed to take mutants seriously, except when they were beating them to death of course. He had lost many friends in this war. Of course he wasn’t familiar with the current X-men roster, he had left many years ago, but Charles’ foolish ideals sometimes left him open for weakness. The more powerful and militant mutants usually got snapped up by Cameron or Jael. He didn’t think the X-men would be anything Cameron couldn’t handle.

Gail didn’t quite believe, but she respected him enough to keep quiet about it. The others stirred restlessly, raising his ire. Kyle sensed the others hovering and felt they were in the way. He pulled away from Kimble and moved his crew aside. “I’m going to drop you guys off outside. I want you to go and report to Cameron. Tell him I’ll bring the ShaRain over to the club when he’s better.”

“I’m staying here with him,” Leon said. “I’ve got orders.”

“So do I. Report back to Cam. Now.”

“No. He’s not leaving my sight.”

The two men locked eyes. Kyle was older and wiser, but Leon was much more powerful and part of Cameron’s Inner Circle. Kyle had no choice. “All right. But keep quiet.”

Kyle grabbed Michael and Gail and dropped them off outside. They ran off, grateful to be free and disappeared into the darkness of the night. He returned to the aerie quickly, not wanting to leave Kimble alone with Leon for too long. Leon was sneaky and crazy, he couldn’t be trusted.

Kimble was moaning and thrashing on the bed when he arrived back upstairs. Leon stood over him, just a little too closely, a strange twisted grin on his face. “Leave him alone,” Kyle barked.

“I wasn’t going to do anything,” Leon said, backing off with his hands up. He sat down at the table. He looked around him impatiently. “Don’t you have any TVs or anything?”

“No,” Kyle answered, sitting next to Kimble on the bed. “Try reading a book.” Kyle was an intelligent man. He had many shelves with books on all subjects.

Leon snorted and turned away. He was small and weasley, not a very nice person. He was largely illiterate with no desire to expand his horizons. His power enabled him to protect himself and dominate others, he was a bully and more than satisfied with it. He’d been brutally sexually and mentally abused by an uncle when he was a child and it showed in the nasty way he carried himself and argued all of the time. He was filthy and not pleasant to be around. Kyle tried his best to see past all that to the boy underneath, Leon was only a teenager, but his childish and cruel manner made it difficult. For reasons yet to be explained, Cameron had insisted Leon go out on them with this trip and apparently wanted Leon close to this pilot.

Kyle ignored his rude teammate and touched Kimble’s fevered face. The creature was still quite warm. If he overheated again, Kyle would be forced to bring him back to the bathroom and cool him off some more.

Kimble felt him there. He reached out and snatched Kyle’s hand, grasping for any kind of comfort. “Help me...”

“What can I do?”

“Thirsty...So thirsty...”

Kyle got up carefully and got a glass of water. He returned and Kimble grabbed at it greedily. He drank the water down in big gulps, then retched and coughed it all up again. Kyle was at his wit’s end. He got a towel and cleaned the mess, not sure of what he was doing. He was afraid that Kimble could still die and all of this would be for nothing. Kimble was clawing at his throat, gasping and moaning.

Kyle went to the kitchen, thinking of what to do. He opened up the freezer and took out a large block of ice. He found a pick and stabbed at it viciously, venting some of his pent up frustration over this whole mess. He gathered the chips and dumped them into a bowl before sitting back down next to Kimble. He slid some chips into Kimble’s mouth and the pilot took them gratefully, chomping on them and drooling with relief.
“Wh-what happened ta me?” he asked in a weak scratchy voice. He looked a little more aware.

“You got hit by a plasma burst. You’re lucky to be alive.”

“Plasma...” Kimble shuddered. He vaguely remembered Fallen saying something about plasma energy being harmful to the hologram. He reached for more chips and Kyle gave him some, careful not to give him too many.

“It’s all right. I think you’re going to be fine.”

Kimble squinted up at him. “Who’re you?”

“My name is Kyle Franks. My friends and I found you outside the bar. You’d been attacked by a gang of mutants. We drove them off, but you got hit by a stray plasma burst.”

Some of what Kyle said sounded right to Kimble’s blurred memory, but not all of it. He had a vague recollection of hurting this man, but wasn’t sure why. The marks he had made grabbing for Kyle’s eyes had faded, he didn’t see them and Kyle didn’t remind him about it.

“Where am I?”

“This is a safe place. This is one of my homes. No one will harm you here. Now, tell me your name.”

“Name’s Kimble.”

“Kimble?”

“Yeah, Kimble. Just like that. Kimble.” He closed his eyes and took a ragged breath. “It’s so hot in here...”

Kyle took Kimble’s hand again. “Try to sleep.”

“Stay with me.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Kimble spent most of the night in a kind of stupor. He would doze off only to wake and vomit again. The streaks of orange grew less and less with each purging and Kyle could see he was getting better. Even though he was a stranger, Kimble wanted Kyle close to him and finally fell asleep, his head in Kyle’s lap.

Kyle looked down into Kimble’s sleeping face and brushed his hair back gently. Kyle found himself oddly attracted to his sparkling beauty and other worldliness. He was an alabaster winged Adonis, his physique perfect and chiseled. His skin seemed to glow unnaturally and his whiteness suggested purity. Kyle ran his hands gently over his leathery wings, unable to stop his curiosity. He felt Kimble shudder with pleasure from his touch. Kimble mumbled something in a strange musical language and half opened his eyes.

Kyle looked quickly at Leon, but he’d fallen asleep, his head on the table. Kyle knew Leon was homophobic as a result of the abuse he’d received and didn’t want him to misunderstand his careful explorations of their guest. He was merely curious, nothing more.

Kimble slurred more pleasant gibberish and rolled onto his back to look up into Kyle’s face. He was clearly stoned, the plasma had made him high even as it made him sick. His pupils were fully dilated, making him look even more strange. He whispered something, laughed, and reached up to touch his fevered fingers to Kyle’s lips.

Kyle took his hand, pulling it away gently. “Sleep.”

“Cain’t. Too hot. I felt ya touchin’ me.”

“I’ve never seen anyone like you. Don’t be afraid.”

“I ain’t scared. You kin keep touchin’ me, I don’ mind. I likes it.”

He rose up slightly to kiss Kyle, but the older man pushed him down firmly in a gentle refusal. He was a little confused by Kimble’s apparent desire. He knew Kimble had been at the bar with a woman. He’d actually seen Kimble there a few times without knowing who he was. Each time, Kimble had gone with a prostitute. Maybe Kimble was just really high. Still, he made his position on the matter clear. “I’m not gay and I don’t want you that way. I’m sorry if I confused you.”

“I ain’t no man. I ain’t no girl. I’m Kimble.”

“What does that mean? Kimble?”

“S’ my name.”

“Well...Kimble. I was curious about you, but that’s all,” Kyle repeated, firm about this.

Kimble withered a little. “S’all right. Don’ be mad at me.”

“I’m not angry. I was just wondering what you are.”

Kimble laughed, relieved, and said, “I’m Kimble. I’m a pilot,” as if that explained everything.

“A pilot, huh? I’ve never seen a pilot quite like you.”

“That’s cuz there ain’t no pilots like me. I’m the only one.”

“The only one? Don’t you have parents?”

A dark sadness crossed Kimble’s face. “Gots no parents. I ain’t even real.”

“You seem real enough to me.”

“Well, I ain’t.” Kimble rolled onto his side, turning away. The plasma was buzzing in his head like he’d drunk too much whiskey. It enhanced his senses but exaggerated his emotions. He’d been aroused when Kyle was touching him, now he felt a sadness so profound he thought it would swallow him up whole.

Kyle touched his shoulder, concerned at Kimble’s rapid change in mood. “I meant no offense.”

“I wants ta go home.”

“You’re sick.”

Kimble tried to rise, wanting only to get out of here. He had to find Fallen. He swayed drunkenly as the room began to spin wildly. His stomach heaved and he gagged. Kyle grabbed at him, not letting him fall. Kimble leaned back against him, letting the other man catch him. Kimble’s head flopped back and he found himself looking up into Kyle’s eyes again. Kimble started to shake in fear. He’d never been this drunk, this high before and it frightened him. “Helps me...”

“I’m trying, but you’re not co-operating.”

“What’s happenin’ ta me?” He had no memory of the night before or of Kyle’s explaining all this already.

“You got hit with a plasma burst. You absorbed it and it’s made you sick. You need to rest.”

Kimble closed his eyes, feeling horrible. “I’m scared.”

“It’s all right. I’ve got you now.” Kyle lay Kimble back down on the bed and covered him up with the blankets. “Sleep.”

Kimble grasped his wrist. “Stay with me.”

Kyle looked down at him, confused. Joshua said this was the ShaRain. The ShaRain was supposed to be some kind of powerful fighting spirit. He had gone on to say that not only would the ShaRain be an asset and a powerful ally, he was also destined to find some kind of special object of power called the LaRoo, another word Joshua was at a loss to explain. It all sounded kind of hokey to Kyle, but Cameron was all over it. Kyle decided he would just treat Kimble like any other recruit and bring him into the fold like the rest. He turned on his best charming smile. “Of course I’ll stay with you.”

Kimble released him and curled up next to him. Kyle petted his head gently until he heard Kimble’s breathing change and he knew he was asleep, hopefully for a while this time. He stood up and saw Leon was out cold as well. This was as good a time as any to sneak off and call Cameron. He was sorry now he’d never installed a phone up here, but he hated telephones and wanted the isolation. There was a payphone just down the street. He stepped out onto the fire escape and dropped down to the alley below.

To read more click here : http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2608701/1/Shattered

 

[squeekness]

(Six)

At about the same time the SHIELD truck was pulling up to the front of the X-men Mansion to drop off the new arrival, Kyle jogged quickly to the convenience store on the corner. He squinted in the new morning sun, exhausted from tending to Kimble all night. He went to the side of the store and used the pay phone to dial his boss.

Cameron was an early riser and picked up after the first ring. “Hello?” he greeted in his old man’s thick growl. Cameron was well into his fifties.

“Hey, Cam. It’s me, Kyle.”

“What’s happening? Is he all right? Your people said he was sick.”

“Yes. He’s here. He’s okay. At least I think he is. He got hit by one of Leon’s plasma bursts.”

“I know. I told Leon to hit him.”

“What? Why? Jeezus, Cam! He almost melted him! Don’t ask me how he walked away from that!”

“Relax, Joshua said that the ShaRain feeds off of energy. I made sure he found the plasma to his liking. Now it will be all he wants.”

“Are you sure? It made him sick. He was barfing up all over the place!”

“Of course the amounts may have to be adjusted. Joshua told me all about it.”

“When were you going to tell me? That’s so unfair!”

“Is he okay now?”

“Yeah, I think so. I hope so.”

“Let him sleep it off and bring him by the club later. We have to talk anyway.”

“What about Leon?”

“What about him?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea keeping him around Kimble.”

“Who?”

“Kimble. That’s his name. Kimble. I think Leon’s going to be a problem.”

“Why?”

“He’s violently homophobic.”

“That’s an issue? Joshua said nothing about our friend being gay.”

“Yeah, well. Maybe it was the plasma making him crazy, I don’t know, but he made a pass at me. Fortunately, Leon didn’t see it, but....”

“He made a pass at you? Well, that’s a surprise,” Cameron interrupted, sounding anything but. “That’s not necessarily a bad thing. I wanted to talk to you about being his handler anyway--”

“Forget it, Cam. No way. I’ll bring him in, but that’s it.” To make his point, Kyle hung up.

He paced for a few minutes, quietly fuming, but was disrupted by a loud message from his stomach. He took advantage of opportunity and walked into the store, his mind still racing. He was pissed off at Cameron’s audacity and manipulations. He disliked being used. He roamed the shelves, calming down and casually wondering what a creature like Kimble would consider breakfast or if he even ate at all. He grabbed a few items and left quickly, not wanting to leave Kimble alone for too long. He hoped he hadn’t been gone too long already.

-------------------------------------------

Back at the tall building that housed the Ricochet Club, Cameron Bishop paced in his lofty office. He was an older man, in his early fifties and balding. He was round in the middle and finely dressed with the merry eyes of a fatherly Santa Claus. He was a mutant, but not a very powerful one. He was more of a master manipulator and con artist. He had maneuvered his way to this high position by cleverness alone. He had a way of knowing the right thing to say or do to get what he wanted. He built this Club and training ground as a power base to increase his own wealth and power. He used the Club to lure his people in and filled their heads full of popular anti-human rhetoric, building his army. He blackmailed and used people, siccing his brainwashed thugs on those who either didn’t join him or stood in his way. He had more than a few skeletons in his closet, but wasn’t as murderous as the Brotherhood or Jael. He didn’t want to take over the world, he just wanted his share of the pie...for now.

He grabbed his suit coat from a chair and walked out. He went to the elevator and stepped inside. The elevator looked normal but had a special keypad that was activated by a palm scan. He scanned his hand and clicked one of the buttons. The car moved swiftly and smoothly and he began to pace restlessly. He was very excited that Kyle had come through for him.

Kyle was one of his major assets and best finds. How he had laughed when he saw what Xavier had let go. Kyle was one of the most powerful telekinetics on the planet, and one of the easiest people Cameron had ever tried to manipulate. Kyle had wanted to work for someone who wouldn’t tie his hands as Xavier did. Kyle loved working with teenagers and was a good leader on his squad. Cameron knew he was going to get Kimble placed with Kyle just as he wanted, in spite of Kyle’s reservations. He knew Kyle was just nervous about handling such a rare find. The key to keeping Kyle steady was to dole out the facts as needed. If Kyle knew the entirety of Cameron’s ambitious plan, he was sure to balk and bail out as soon as possible.

The elevator came to a stop and Cameron got out. This was an exclusive floor that very few had access to. Here was where Cameron kept his most valuable asset, his special advisor, Joshua. This floor was dark and gloomy, painted in tones of dark purple and black. There were only very dim electric lights, but some candles burned merrily on some small tables here and there. Joshua’s apartment was sparsely furnished, most of the objects around were made of fine wood in the oriental style and low to the floor. The walls were bare except for sconces that held scented candles, all lit. One wall did have an extraordinary painted dragon on it, all gold and twisted in the oriental style. The atmosphere was one of sorcery and mysticism which was the intent. Joshua seemed to fancy himself as some kind of wizard and dressed the part as much as possible.

Cameron sat on a large cushion at a large low table in the living area and rang a small metal bell that had been placed there. A few moments later, Joshua glided from the gloom of the back room to greet him. Joshua was dressed in long dark blue robes, hooded of course. He smiled at his Master and sat, pulling the hood from his face. Joshua was a strange sight. He was tall and very thin, but more than that he was an albino, the whitest and brightest thing in the room. “Master,” he purred and blinked his soft, pink eyes at him.

“Joshua, I have such good news.”

“The Guardian had been found.”

“No keeping secrets from you, my friend.”

Joshua just laughed softly. “Is he intact?”

“Kyle says he is, but he might be damaged. Are you sure it was such a good idea for Leon to hit him like that? Kyle said the plasma made him sick.”

“He will be all right. Now he will have a taste for it. He won’t want anything else and will be easy to control.”

“He will do as I want?”

“Some persuasion may be required, but I think so, yes. He has been a servant before and will be one again most easily. He is as a child and should be treated like one.”

“You said he was a warrior.”

“I said he would become one.”

“Well, he’ll have to be trained before I let him go back out. I don’t want any of the other factions to have him.”

“It’s Jael you must be wary of. This one he seeks as well. Don’t give in, my Master. If you do this correctly, you will be the Master of Jael and he will lie at your feet as a dog.”

Cameron smiled in the gloom of Joshua’s strange room. This was something he desired greatly. He had decided he wasn’t satisfied with his standing in the mutant society. To advance, he had to take Jael down, something that wouldn’t be easy, but would win him the respect of all. Joshua had predicted Kimble’s coming....and the power he would find. It was this power Cameron wanted desperately to attain.

“Did Kyle tell you his name?”

“Oh? Uh, yes. His name is Kimble.”

“The Lover,” Joshua whispered softly to himself and laughed.

“What’s that?”

“He will make good use of the Club and the pleasures within. Do not be afraid of him. I See that there is more to him than first appears. He is a Channeler of the highest quality.”

“A Channeler? Is that good?”

“Yes, Master. That is good.”

“What does that mean? Explain it to me again.”

Joshua squinted as he tried to think. This area was fuzzy, he hadn’t gotten all of it. He used a mirror to see things. What he got back was a picture of Kimble and a series of words. ShaRain, LaRoo, and Channeler. “I’m not sure, Master, but I believe he will be able to use the plasma as a weapon. You must make sure he gets it, that he becomes addicted. It shouldn’t be difficult. He is weak. Do not be surprised if he speaks with more than one voice. He is fragmented, damaged. He was this way before Leon struck him, but now those voices have been set free. Your goal will be to stabilize him and bend him to your will. As a precaution, Kyle should be warned of his condition. We do not want him to be frightened.”

“Kyle isn’t easily spooked. I’m afraid if I tell him Kimble’s crazy, he’ll back off.”

“If you are too spare with the facts, you will drive him away. He will distrust you.”

“Don’t worry, Joshua. I know how to handle Kyle. He won’t be a problem.”

To read more click here : http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2608701/1/Shattered

 

[squeekness]

(Seven)

Kimble startled awake from a blurry nightmare. He dreamed he had been swallowed up by a ball of fire. He rubbed his eyes and looked around. Morning light was streaming in from a nearby window. Kyle hadn’t been gone long. Kimble was just not one to sleep for too long. He found himself on a bed in a large one room studio apartment. The buzzing in his head was gone and he didn’t feel so screwed up anymore. He was incredibly thirsty and he got up stiffly to shuffle over to the kitchen sink. He found a glass and poured himself some water. He drank it down greedily. It was cold and sweet and revived him a little more. He jumped when he heard Leon come out of the bathroom.

“Well, well,” Leon said, a nasty grin sliding across his mouth. His teeth were jagged and mean looking. His eyes roamed over Kimble’s naked body and didn’t approve. “Sleeping Beauty awakes.”

“My name’s Kimble,” Kimble said, not understanding the reference.

Leon made a small plasma ball and bounced it lazily in one hand. “Whatever.”

Kimble saw the orange glowing ball of plasma and locked on it just as he had Remy’s cards. He couldn’t explain his fascination. The plasma had made him sick, but now he wanted it again desperately.

Leon noticed. “You want this, huh? Little ‘hair of the dog’?”

“What?”

“You want this or not?”

“Yeah.”

“Show me how much.”

Kimble grew wary and stepped back a little. “How?”

Leon shrugged. “I dunno... Bark like a dog.”

Kimble smiled, he liked games. He barked and waited.

“That sucked. Do it again.”

Kimble barked and then howled, getting into it.

“Jump up and down. Howl for me, baby!”

Kimble jumped up and down, spreading his wings. He barked and howled, oblivious to the fact he was being made to look ridiculous. It was his immaturity and desire to please that was working against him. After weeks of feeling unaccepted, he was happy just to have someone interact with him, even in such a vaguely humiliating way. He was rewarded when Leon finally tossed him the pea sized ball of plasma.

Kimble caught it quickly, startled by his own need. Even such a small dose was fairly potent, he felt the heat of it pour into him and he fell to his knees, moaning and shaking with orgasmic pleasure. This wasn’t the fiery inferno from the night before, this was heat and energy that made him tingle and shiver with joy. It aroused him like nothing else and he wanted to make love like crazy.

“What do you think you’re doing!” Kyle shouted at Leon, storming into the room. He had just returned from the store and his hands were full of groceries.

Leon flinched. “Nothing. He wanted some more so I gave it to him.”

“Do I look stupid to you? I saw what you were doing with him. Get away from him!”
Kyle ordered, pushing Leon back with his power. Leon shrugged and walked back to the table to sit.

Kyle looked down at Kimble who sat through the whole argument without a sign of hearing it. Kimble lifted his head to meet Kyle’s eyes. He was clearly intoxicated all over again and loving it. He started to laugh and the drunken, deranged nature of it made Kyle sick to his stomach. He had no tolerance for drug use among his crew and this was why. It simply made folks look stupid. “Come on, Kimble. Back to bed.”

“You cummin’ with me? I wanna makes love to ya so bad.” He laughed even harder. He was visibly aroused and started fondling himself in his delirium.

Kyle recoiled in horror. It wasn’t the invitation, he’d lived in enough big cities long enough for that not to be his first time. It was the fact that Leon was right behind him and heard him perfectly.

“Ewww!” Leon said, his disgust all too real. “Joshua never said he was gay!”

“He’s not,” Kyle said, trying to cover up the impossible. “He’s stoned. Don’t give him any more plasma. It’s freaking him out.”

Leon stood up in anger and powered up his fists. “He’s not the one! No way would a little gay boy be the ShaRain! He’s goin’ down!”

Kyle stepped in front of Kimble defensively, rudely toppling him to the floor. “Wait! Don’t be stupid! I just spoke to Cameron! I’m taking Kimble over there tonight to see Joshua. It’s the only way to know for sure.”

“No way is any gay boy stayin’ ‘round me, Kyle! I’ll kill him!”

“It was a mistake! Look at him!”

Kimble was still sprawled on the floor. He was distracted now from playing with himself and was holding his hands in front of his face, looking at the sunlight from the window streaming through his fingers. He was wiggling them and laughing like an insane child, his arousal replaced with wonder. His mind was hopelessly gone.

“See?”

Leon backed off, wiping his chin with a trembling hand. He turned away and sat down again in a huff. “What did ya bring me for breakfast?” he asked eyeing the bags Kyle had brought.

Kyle set the bags down carefully on the table and gave Leon his food. He tried to ignore Kimble who was tripping out and not being very quiet about it. Kimble was singing slurred Siskan gibberish and giggling. Kyle wanted Leon out of here in the worst way, but he knew Leon wouldn’t go. Cameron wanted him here as a spy and a power source for Kimble. He would have to just put up with him.

He heard Kimble gradually quiet and pass out. He went over to him and picked him up, again surprised at how light Kimble was. He lay Kimble out on the bed and covered him up again. Kimble whimpered and curled up as if he was in pain. He might be receptive to the plasma, but that didn’t mean it was good for him.

Kyle sighed. What a pain in the ass this was turning out to be. He had to get Kimble back to the Club as soon as possible. He would let Kimble sleep and bring him later, when it was dark. Until then he would babysit and be patient.

To read more click here : http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2608701/1/Shattered

 

[squeekness]

(Eight)

After they returned from Anya’s, Fallen, Logan and Remy checked in with Charles to see if there had been any news of Kimble. The Professor had sent two teams out to spy on Cameron’s penthouse as Remy had suggested -- Jean and Rogue, and Warren and Kurt. They had camped out on opposite sides of the building on adjacent roofs. So far there had been no word, but it was still early. Logan gave Charles a quick run down on what Anya had said. He left out her remarks about Crazy John and Remy was silent on the matter. He didn’t have a clue what all that had been about but he had a feeling they would all find out sooner or later. It wasn’t really his business, not just yet.

After the information was shared, Charles dismissed the others but held Remy back.

“I can see you are worried, Remy. Can I help?”

Gambit stood pensively at the Professor’s window, looking out at the driveway as if he expected Kimble to pull up in his Jeep, apologetic for an unplanned joyride. “Non. It’s jus’ dat ‘e’s out dere wit no one lookin’ out for ‘im.”

“Why didn’t you tell me he was sneaking out?”

“ ‘Cause I knew you wouldn’t understand,” Remy replied without facing him.

“You never turned in your report on Kimble like I asked. Please, talk to me. Tell me about him so I can understand. Tell me who you think he is.”

Gambit turned and looked back at his mentor, his eyes tired and sad. He took a deep breath and told the Professor everything. He explained about Kimble’s playful and flirtatious manner before they had even left Cerise, how he’d been upset at Fallen’s mistreatment by Valentin and how he looked after Seth. Kimble had reacted badly on the ship, the violence between the people on board and the shock from being jerked out of the system were probably to blame. Kimble needed to be happy to okay. He had to be played with and used properly, he had to be loved and cared for as if he were a real live creature, not a machine or a dead end hologram like they had in the Danger Room. Kimble was very real. Remy hoped the Professor understood and tried to be clear about it. The Professor nodded and Remy continued.

He told him about Kimble being stabbed when he tried to save Maylee’s life and how he’d come to Kimble’s rescue, never expecting the trip through Wonderland that followed. He went through Kimble’s memories, glossing over his sexual romp with Young Kimble, but doing his best to describe Kimble’s empathic gifts and how he went out of his way to help the human Siskans who had been sick and suffering. Kimble needed the constant use and intimate contact with others. He fed off of it and was lost and lonely while he’d basically been ignored by everyone here. Fallen’s neglect of him had been particularly painful and Remy’s platonic love for him hadn’t been enough to make up for it. This is why Kimble had gotten into trouble and Remy had covered for him while he was sneaking out. He never would have let Kimble go if he had known how much danger the pilot was in.

Remy felt lost now, responsible. He understood how those parents felt whose kids had been kidnapped. Kimble was out there somewhere, hurt or damaged somehow. He didn’t have his big brother Remy with him to make sure he was safe and free from harm. Kimble was like an innocent child and Gambit’s biggest fear was Anya’s prediction of Kimble’s corruption. Remy was already concerned enough about Kimble’s mental state before he had left, the last thing he wanted was for Kimble to be wrecked any further.

He didn’t always say these things directly, but the Professor knew what he meant. Charles was inwardly impressed with Remy’s concern. It showed a maturity that Remy had been hiding, evidence of personal growth. The man before him now was not the boy who had first come here four years ago, full of piss and vinegar and little more than a punk looking for his next thrill. Gambit had come a long way and had traveled some of those miles very hard.

Charles remembered well when Gambit first came to be with them. Storm had found him and brought him into their little fold. Gambit had come for the adventure of it, but had later embraced Charles’ dream for reasons of his own. Charles felt horrible when he learned that Rogue had dumped Gambit and left him behind in Antarctica. He wasn’t traveling with the team at the time and had been unable to stop her from leaving him. He had been furious when he found out. He had spent a lot of time preaching tolerance and she had blown all of that off in her anger. Later when they went back in a feeble attempt to rescue him, Remy was gone. The thief had been rescued by some Russian sledders and returned to New York after a year of self imposed exile, thin, worn out and hardly alive from his soul being ripped apart. He snuck into the Professor’s office and came to him on his knees, crying and begging for forgiveness. Remy felt horrible about his terrible crime and wanted only to make up for it somehow. He had to do something to stop the screaming in his soul. He was a walking dead man, an empty shell with nothing left to keep him together.

Of course Charles had taken him back, how could he not? This man was young, his crime committed as a teenager. Gambit wouldn’t give up his reasons for what he’d done, but was clearly in need of redemption. Gambit had come to him that first day of his return, down on his knees, and lay his head in the Professor’s lap like a child. He cried and cried, a shattered child begging for help, while his mentor gently petted him. Charles told Gambit how to save himself. He could stay here and work for peace, he could save lives. Lives saved for the lives lost, he had said and Remy never forgot, it was a constant hum in his mind ever since. Remy had cried then for a while longer until he got all of it out and then slept there with his head still in the Professor’s lap. He felt secure and wanted for the first time in a year. When he woke a short time later, they never spoke of it. Gambit just went back up to his old room, his head down and his eyes low, submissive and contrite.

Gambit’s return didn’t go well with some of the others. Angel had been especially vocal, he held Gambit responsible for the loss of his wings and wasn’t about to have him back without a fight. Warren’s original wings had been replaced by then with Shi’ar prosthetics and he was relearning how to fly, but that wasn’t the point. He had suffered horribly and complained vigorously.

The biggest surprise in the whole mess had been Wolverine. The man had stood by while the others complained and bickered, but he was oddly silent. What do you have to say about this? Charles had asked, using telepathy for privacy.

There ain’t gonna be no peace in this world without fergiveness, Chuck. You taught me that an’ I figure it’s true, Logan had replied. Gambit’s saved my ass more’n once when he could’ve just walked away with none the wiser. Best ta keep him here anyways, keep ‘im outta trouble. We got enough enemies without addin’ this one to their teams. Don’t worry about the others, I’ll look after him. And the man had kept his word. He stood in Angel’s way, not letting Warren hurt the thief. Warren had just been released from the hospital then and still deep in therapy. Gambit’s return hadn’t helped. Things got ugly and Warren moved out to stay in one of the other houses abutting the property. It was only just recently that Warren had returned to live under the same roof as the thief he despised.

Since Gambit’s return from exile, Charles watched as Remy recovered from his ordeal and attempted to regain some normalcy. Gambit often volunteered for risky missions, putting his life on the line willingly to save others regardless of the outcome. Lives saved for the lives lost, yes. Gambit hadn't forgoteen his promise. He had become responsible in the sense that he would do anything to help the team, even if it was recklessness with his own life. He had become someone who genuinely cared about other people. The boy had become a man.

Charles didn’t have to be a mind reader to see Remy’s current pain and guilt over Kimble’s abduction. Gambit was concerned about Anya’s prediction which led the Professor to believe the woman had some credibility. They would have to be careful.

Gambit looked at him now, his eyes teasing. “What you t’inkin’ now, patron, ey? Surprised dis boy even care ‘bout sumptin’ other dan ‘is next score?”

Charles laughed. “I know you better than you think, my Cajun friend. There’s hope for you, yet.”

“Si bien. Dis jus’ be our secret, oui? Don’ want it gettin’ around Gambit’s gone soft.”
“No worries.”

Gambit just grunted another laugh and walked out. Scott passed him by on the way in.

Charles regarded his new arrival with the same thoughtfulness as his last. Scott was one of his first students. Kimble thought of him as the Professor’s Second and that wasn’t too far off the mark. Scott Summers was the team captain, the one making the big decisions out in the field. He was trustworthy and dependable, but unfortunately a little cold and stern on the outside. That was a result of always having to be in control of his power. Without his glasses, Cyclops could easily kill and maim. That kind of destructive power demanded constant vigilance.

“They have anything of value to report?” Cyclops asked, trying to sound casual.
“Yes. It seems that Kimble is not as harmless or worthless as we may have thought. He is being sought out by others. They think he has a valuable power and they will stop at nothing to take it for themselves. What worries me is Jael. He is seeking only the violent destruction of everything around him. I fear what Kimble could become in his hands.”

Scott scowled.

Charles turned his chair slightly to better look at his team leader. “What?”

“I still find it awfully hard to believe Kimble could be anything that anyone wants. He’s like a little kid. This has to be some kind of mix up, a case of mistaken identity.”
“I realize that you don’t approve of Kimble’s rambunctious nature, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t go after him with any less enthusiasm.”

“Maybe he’s better off where he’s at. He wasn’t happy here.” Scott remembered how Kimble had been before he left, all low and skulking about. It had made him feel a little guilty for yelling at him earlier, but the pilot simply had to learn that rules were necessary and important in a facility with so many other people in it.

“That may have been so, but he’s in danger, Scott. Remy is very worried and that concerns me more than anything. He must be brought back.”

“Is Gambit hiding something?”

“Only his great affection for the pilot. The two of them share a kind of bond that neither one of them truly understands, I think. Remy’s fear is real enough, though. I think we may have carelessly let Kimble slip away from us and I wish to put that to rights. Besides, anything that interests Jael enough to send Sabretooth out looking worries me greatly, indeed. Gambit said Anya told them there was some kind of Game involved and that Jael is an active player. We need to learn more about this. I want you to gather as many of our people as you can. I want Cameron Bishop’s building covered from all sides at all times.”

“We have two teams out there watching now already.”

“They must be relieved. If Kimble doesn’t show up, we may have to take more drastic measures, but for the moment, all I want is surveillance. Work it out with Wolverine.”

“Yes, Professor.”

Cyclops left and the Professor was left alone with his thoughts. He felt a sense of terrible dread. The idea of some game being played out there in his world frightened him. So many times he had sent his teams out to wage war against these idiots playing stupid games of power, always trampling over innocents in their wake. So unnecessary. So stupid. So horrifying in that it kept happening. What would this world have become if he hadn’t intervened so many times. Was this his role, a mutant policeman? If the real people knew what he had sacrificed on their behalf would they thank him or lock him up?

Enough of these thoughts, old man. They accomplish nothing.

Charles rolled away from the window and returned to his desk, planning his next move.

To read more click here : http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2608701/1/Shattered

 

[Ipodman]

Nice stuff! I Love Gambit!

 

[squeekness]

Thanks. He's my number one guy.

 

[squeekness]

(Nine)

Kimble came out of his stupor, feeling miserable. His belly ached and he was thirsty all over again. He sat up and rubbed his face with his hands, feeling seriously hung over. What was happening to him? He didn’t even know what day it was. He stood up on rubbery legs and shuffled over to the sink. He drank some more water, but it didn’t really help him like before. He looked around him, he was alone and felt suddenly scared. He walked briskly to the nearest window, hoping to just jump out and leave, but he was grabbed from behind. “Where do you think yer goin’?” Zander growled sharply. “This party’s only just started ta git interestin’.”

-------------------------

Kimble shrieked and woke up in a strange bed. It was dark now, night time. In his second plasma induced stupor, he’d lost another whole day. He stood up too quickly in response to his dream and swayed as a spell of vertigo rocked him. Gentle hands steadied him. “Easy, son. Where are you going?”

Kimble fell back against Kyle. “I gots ta go home. I cain’t stays here.”

“You’re safe here, no one will harm you.”

“They don’ know where I’m at. Fallen’s gonna worry ‘bout me.”

“Who’s Fallen?”

“My Mistress. She takes care a me.”

Mistress? That was an odd word, Kyle couldn’t help but think. “I’m sure she’s fine.”

“You gots a phone I kin use? Aw, man...I don’ even know the number fer the house!”

Kyle did but he wasn’t about to offer it. Instead, he asked, “Do you want to go someplace with me?”

Kimble looked up at him. “What kinda place?”

“Someplace fun.”

“I dunno if I’m up to it.”

“There’s girls there,” Kyle whispered suggestively.

“What kinda girls?”

“Girls who like to play.”

Kimble suddenly felt better. “Really?”

Kyle led the pilot to the bathroom and helped him clean up a little. After a nice warm shower, Kimble felt much better, refreshed. He wasn’t dizzy anymore. He could tell the plasma had changed him somehow, but wasn’t afraid. He’d gone through this with the Ristle overload and he had survived that, too. If anything, that change had made him stronger. Maybe this would as well. Kyle rummaged through his closet and tried to find some loose clothes that weren’t too big.

Kimble saw his efforts and tried his best to help. He closed his eyes and concentrated, willing his legs to straighten and his wings to retract inside of him. Nothing happened.

“What?” Kyle asked when he saw Kimble’s perplexed look.

“I kin pull my wings in. I mean, I useta be able ta do that. Nuthin’s happenin’.”

Kimble concentrated again, squinting. Again, nothing happened. Feeling a little scared now, Kimble tried to shift skins into his woman skin. Nothing. Feeling a little panicked, Kimble stepped back and shook his head. “Naw...don’ tell me!”

“Relax, Kimble. What’s wrong?”

“My skins ain’t workin’!”

“What do you mean by your ‘skins’?”

Kimble shook his hands. “This. My skin. What I looks like. Fallen made me this way. I gots three skins. A girl skin, a human skin and me. This is the only one workin’ now. Them files gots corrupted or sumpthin’.”

Leon had been loitering in the kitchen, but he now came in, drawn by Kimble’s racket. He’d heard the whole exchange and couldn’t make sense of any of it. “I don’t get it. What’s he talking about?”

“Later,” Kyle said to Leon impatiently. He remembered how Kimble had looked human before and understood now what was going on. He could deal with Kimble, but not with Leon around. He tossed Kimble some underwear and a pair of black thermal pajama pants, they were the only thing he could find on such short notice that would be able to wrap around Kimble’s cat like legs. He gave him a shirt as well, but had his doubts, Kimble probably wasn’t going to be able to wear it because of his wings, not without hacking it to pieces first anyway. Kyle turned to Leon and said, “We’re going to the Club. I’m going to fly Kimble there.”

“What about me?” Leon whined.

“I need you to run an errand for me,” Kyle lied, just wanting Leon gone. He herded the boy towards a window and a wrought iron fire escape with a small catwalk balcony. “I’ll drop you off outside.”

Leon nodded with a pout and let Kyle drop him down to the street. Kyle made up something quick for Leon to do and sent him on his way.

Kimble dressed as best he could and waited upstairs, trying to fight down his panic. Clearly he hadn’t escaped his melting unscathed. It could be worse, he tried to console himself. At least he was trapped in the skin he favored the most. Heck, he could have been stuck fully clothed. What a horror that would have been. No more sex for him then. Being a Siskan Courtesan demanded he would think in those terms.
He gave up on the shirt and climbed out on the black metal fire escape, looking up at the stars. It was so beautiful up there and he missed Fallen terribly. He turned when he heard Kyle return.

“What’s wrong, Kimble? Explain to me about the skins,” Kyle asked, just wanting to get Kimble to talk and calm down. He hadn’t liked the forlorn look on his face.

“I ain’t real like I tol’ you. I gots more’n one way of lookin’. At least I did. Leon screwed me up or sumpthin’. I’m stuck like this.”

Kyle understood some of that. He knew what skins were, he had used a computer before and played his share of games. Skins were used to change the appearance of gaming characters. Somehow Kimble perceived himself as the same. Shape shifters were valuable and the suggestion that Kimble had this ability made him that much more appealing. “Maybe it’s just temporary. I know some people who might be able to help you,” he soothed.

“Fallen kin fix it.” Kimble said, not really sure. He figured if she’d made the pilot skin in the first place, she could repair this.

“Who’s Fallen?”

“She’s my Mistress. At least she used ta be when she wanted me around. I miss my Fallen. I thinks of her when I see the stars.”

“Why?”

Kimble smiled. “Cuz we fly up in space,” he replied simply.

Kyle laughed. “Um, sure. Okay. You ever really fly yourself?” He had seen Kimble flying haphazardly about during the fight at the bar and wondered just what this new find was capable of.

“Naw. I mean, I kin do it but I suck at it. I cain’t fly like Fallen can.”

“It’s not an easy thing to fly. It takes lots of practice.” He walked up to Kimble and stood behind him. He negotiated around Kimble’s wings and put his hands on Kimble’s waist. He startled when Kimble giggled and twisted a little, playing around. Kimble was ticklish and his laughter was infectious. Kyle cocked his head and snickered, amused by his childishness. “Silly. Hold still. Put your arms up.”

Kimble did as he was told. He breathed in the night air and closed his eyes.

“Good. The trick is to relax. Feel yourself in the air.”

Kimble took another deep breath, and then gasped as Kyle put his hands back on him and lifted him up. They were flying up in into the night.

“Keep your eyes closed,” Kyle whispered. “Just feel it.”

Kimble relaxed and lay his head back, his arms still out. This was so wonderful, being flown like this. He had forgotten that Kyle could fly and this was a wonderful surprise. He was learning quickly that the only thing better than flying, was flying with someone else. They glided through the air like two strange long legged birds and Kimble was thrilled.

He started to laugh with joy and Kyle laughed with him. Kimble whooped and hollered, enjoying himself immensely. Kyle couldn’t help but smile. It had been a long time since he had flown anyone with such a zest for life and no shyness about enjoying it. He found his own spirits being lifted and he dragged out their flight even though the Club wasn’t that far. He flew Kimble up high and pointed out some of the sights of the City, much to Kimble’s delight. He saw the Statue of Liberty and the Brooklyn Bridge all lit up and beautiful. Kyle laughed, happy he had pleased the pilot. He enjoyed Kimble’s company the longer they were together. With all the serious company that he kept, Kyle didn’t have many around him that could make him laugh. Kimble’s innocence and quick laughter warmed him. Maybe having a childish Kimble around wasn’t going to be as bad as he thought.

To read more click here : http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2608701/1/Shattered

 

[squeekness]

Kyle landed with Kimble on the penthouse patio, just as Gambit had predicted he might. The lights were all on, but Cameron would be down in the Club, a few floors below. They passed through the house quickly, Kyle herding Kimble along. The house was filled with rich and lavish things, much more expensive than the antique trappings of the Xavier Mansion. Kimble kept wanting to touch all the pretty things as he passed, but Kyle wasn’t ready to make excuses to Cameron if his new charge broke anything. They made their way to an elevator and came out on one of the Club floors that was exclusive to Cameron’s Freedom Kings. There was a large dance floor and a hallway leading off to some unseen area.

Kyle gave Kimble a gentle shove towards the bar where a crowd of people were dancing. “We have a couple hours before Cameron wants to see us. Walk around, visit some of the rooms. Have fun.”

“What do I do?” Kimble asked. He felt awkward being left like this.

“Whatever you want. I want to talk to Cameron before I bring you to see him. Don’t worry, I'll come get you after. See that woman over there?” He was pointing to a trim, pretty blond in a skimpy black evening dress. “That’s Melany. She’s a hostess and she’ll get you settled.”

“Where are ya goin'?”

“I told you, to speak with Cameron for a minute. Don’t worry. Relax. I'll find you.”

Kyle didn't allow further argument, but walked away and left Kimble on his own.
Kimble made his way towards a small crowd of people on the dance floor. He was the only one alone and he felt out of place. He went to the back wall where it was dark and leaned against it, watching the dancers. He had missed where Melany had gone and was now a little lost and disoriented. He was dressed only in the thermal pajama pants that Kyle had given him and he stuck out like a sore thumb here. Everyone else either had a black uniform on like Kyle’s or wore evening dress clothes.

He didn't notice when Melany came up behind him. She had spotted him quickly as a newbie and came right over. She placed a hand on his shoulder. “You must be new here.”

Kimble startled a little at her touch and grinned sheepishly. “That obvious, huh?”

She laughed. “Yes. My name is Melany. Let me help you.” She took his hand and led him towards the hallway in the back. He now saw it had many doors with strange symbols on them. “This is a very special place and we have a lot to offer. So what are you?”

“I'm a pilot,” he answered for lack of a better response.

“No, silly! What is your sexual preference?”

Kimble laughed. This he had not expected. Apparently this was some kind of sex club...or at least he was hoping so now. “I dunno. I likes evrathin’, I guess.”
“Ah, the adventurous type,” she teased. She took him to a purple door with a strange and elaborate symbol on it. “This'll do.”

Melany opened the door and Kimble's eyes opened wide. A pile of twenty or more people lay writhing on the floor, tangled and wrapped up in each other as they played their sexual games. All genders, all possible combinations were romping around. Kimble flushed and almost lost his breath, he hadn't seen this sort of thing since Siska. He stepped inside the room, never hearing Melany chuckle and shut the door behind him. Two women came to him. They undressed him and took him down into the pile, not the least bit put off by his pilot’s body. In fact, he could see there were others here that could never be considered truly human.

He felt a little strange here in this room because this time he was the client instead of the server. It didn’t last. He found his groove quickly and soon fell back into his old rhythms. He laughed and spilled a fine looking blonde woman into his arms. He kissed her and lost himself in play, forgetting everything and everyone else.

-------------------
(Ten)

Cameron Bishop stood with his arms crossed, his face purple from the light of the video screens. He stood in front of a huge bank of viewing screens in his office, watching Kimble romp. “Well, he certainly is talented,” he commented with a soft chuckle.

Kyle sat in a backwards chair, his arms resting across the back. He didn't approve of the cameras, but was in no position to argue. He wondered how many films Cameron had of him. He was a frequent visitor himself in the many rooms of the Club. He had brought Kimble here for inspection, but wanted to talk to Cameron first. He had expressed his reservations about Kimble’s being this protector as Cameron had suggested. He was just too child like and innocent. Well, at least on the inside. What he was doing now, no mere child would even consider. Kimble could romp and play with the most skilled in the purple room. It had been something of a surprise.

Cameron hadn’t addressed Kyle’s concerns. He was watching the screens and being very quiet as he mulled over what Kyle had told him. The fact was Cameron had hyped up Kimble’s status so he would be readily accepted and accommodated here among his crew. Joshua had warned him that Kimble would be unusual and might not integrate as easily as other recruits.

“Are you sure he's the one?” Kyle said, interrupting the older mans’s thoughts.

“I think so, yes. He fits the description Joshua gave us. Look how beautiful, the Mark,” he commented, pointing to the Honor Sword. Cameron cocked his head and squinted as he watched Kimble play. “How does he do that.....?”

Kyle cleared his throat and looked away. He hadn’t seen what Cameron was joking about and wasn’t enough of a spy to probe any further. “He seems to have some shape shifting ability, or at least he mentioned it. He’s telekinetic. He can fly.”

“I see. What are his ambitions?”

“Not much more than you see there.”

“He's not interested in his powers?”

“I wouldn't say that. He loves to fly.”

“Good. Let's put him in the mule pool. The more he's out and around, the faster he'll find the LaRoo.”

“How do you know he'll stay?”

Cameron laughed. “I'll give him unlimited access to the Club. That should satisfy him.”

“He'll want to see his family.”

“Leon will bind him to us.” Cameron paused. “I want you to be his handler.”

“You know I don't work like that. I just bring them in. The rest is up to you.”

“This is a special case. He trusts you. I could see this as you came in. He listens to you. Do this for me. I wouldn't ask you if it wasn't important.”

“No.”

Cameron turned away from the screens to scrutinize him. “Why not?”

“It didn't work out so well the last time.”

The last time Cameron had asked this of him there had been trouble. A handler was a special instructor, one who worked one on one with a powerful new recruit that was considered a risk to others until they were better trained in the use of their power. Kyle had been a handler only once before. He had been given a lovely young female telekinetic and dove into his role with enthusiasm, believing he could do the job well. What happened instead was they fell in love, a result from working so closely together. She wasn’t stable and when Kyle tried to back out, she was distraught and committed suicide. It wasn’t pretty and Kyle was never the same afterwards. He had refused to be anyone’s handler ever again.

“This time will be different, Kyle. This is much too important to leave to anyone else. This is the culmination of all of our work.”

“Don't you think you're relying too much on what Joshua has told you?”

“He hasn't failed me yet.”

Kyle considered his options. He looked up at Kimble on the screen. Kimble lay sandwiched between the lovely blonde and another young man. Kimble's eyes were half closed and dreamy as he moved his body among them. The other two seemed spellbound by him, trapped in place by his arms, his legs, his telekinetic power. They were breathing all together as one being, connected by Kimble's sparkling whiteness. Kyle found it hard to equate this sexual animal with the childish personality he knew was there inside of it. It just didn’t seem right. He was so beautiful to Kyle as he relished his passion as intensely as he had the flight to get here. Kyle shook his head, unbelieving. He couldn't do this. He couldn't sucker in another beautiful creature only to see it destroyed by Cameron's ambitions.

Cameron saw Kyle's silent refusal. “If not you, someone else. It will be easier for all of us if you handle him.”

“You don't need me.”

On the silent video screen, Kimble relaxed and laughed with his new friends now that their round of play had finished. He turned his head to kiss the young man behind him, but the man whispered something and turned away. He'd been content to give Kimble a tumble, but wanted nothing more. Some of the light went out Kimble's eyes. He had wanted to cuddle after, but now his partners had left him alone. Cameron noticed Kimble's look of disappointment. “He needs you.”

“No he doesn't,” Kyle replied. He stood up and put the chair back in its place. “You want me to play babysitter. I don't work that way. He's yours. You deal with him.” He got up and walked out.

------------------------------------------------------

Kyle found Kimble downstairs in one of the red velvet booths. He was laying across the bench, his legs crossed and comfortable. He'd just showered in one of the lavish public bathrooms here and his hair was still wet. His eyes were half open and unfocused as he dreamed of some other place. He had a half drunk bottle of beer on the table and a lit cigarette burning unnoticed in the hand that rested on the table. Melany was a perfect hostess and had seen to his needs, pouring him drinks and giving him a pack of cigarettes to make him comfortable until Kyle returned. He didn't look up as Kyle sat on the bench opposite him. Kyle snapped his fingers in front of Kimble's eyes. “Hey?”

Kimble didn't startle and Kyle realized that Kimble wasn't dreaming after all, just terribly sad.

“You feel okay?”

Kimble nodded, his eyes heavy and mournful. “Feel pretty good actually. Just stepped out fer a minute, is all.” Kimble’s voice was anything but happy and Kyle knew something was wrong. He would never be a good liar.

“Then where did you go?” he joked, trying to get Kimble to lighten up.

“Siska.”

“What's at Siska?”

“My father. I miss my father. Just ain't the same with him gone.”

Kyle was confused. Was Kimble talking about sex? “What isn't the same?”

Kimble just looked at him, his mouth smiling now, but his eyes still terribly sad. “My father wuz the one what made me. I toldja I wuzn't human. I ain't even real. Never wuz. He made me, taught me, made loves ta me, loved me. Just now an' again, I remember what it wuz like ta be loved fer real and I feel all alone.”

Kyle didn't quite get it. He remembered Kimble had said he had no parents. “Your father?”

“Not like yer father. I ain't never had no mother. He took some chemicals an' used his magic ta makes me. I wuz a program. Stupid friggin' hologram what never took to the idear I wuz anathin' less than real. Sumpthin' happened ta me an' I got all changed. Now I'm more real than I ever wuz but still nuthin's better. My father is gone an I'm still all alone.”

Kyle was quiet through Kimble’s startling rant. Some of it he knew from what Cameron had told him, but the rest was a bit shocking. Still, Kyle’s job was convince Kimble to remain here and ever the master at what he did, Kyle’s voice was perfectly calm and reasonable as he said, “You're not alone, Kimble.”

“Yes, I am. Didn'cha see me? I know you wuz watchin’. I could see the cameras. Neat trick, huh? How I kin gits them ta peak all at the same time like that? None a the other ‘grams could do that, just me. Sheyman said it wuz cuz I kin feels 'em in my mind an' he's right. I kin sees inside people sometimes, but only when they's real close like that. He said it wuz a gift. If that's so, how come no one ever stays with me?” Kimble’s voice ended in a plea, his eyes threatening tears.

Kyle shook his head and patted Kimble’s hand, asking for patience. “I can't answer that because I'm not sure what's going on with you, Kim. I don't know you that well.”
Kimble's smile was still so sad even as he feebly joked, “Heh, I don't even know me....not no more. Wuz in a fight on the way here, I got stabbed. Sawr my father in a dream. Sez ta me, ya cain't die just yet. Got you some work ta do, son. An angel, my LaRoo’s gonna come find me. I sawr my father just as clear as I'm lookin' at ya right now. Fergot just how beautiful he wuz.... I just had me a real good time right now but I feel all empty inside cuz he ain't here with me. Real f-ckin' waste. Nuthin's been right since he left me.”

Kyle considered what Kimble just told him. He had just confirmed what Joshua had predicted to Cameron. Kimble was waiting for the LaRoo so he must really be the one. This was said with no prompting on Kyle's part. He was inclined to believe now Kimble was the ShaRain and that Joshua's strange prediction would in fact come true. What disturbed him was Kimble's loneliness and lack of spirit after what should have been an uplifting experience. Kimble wasn't predictable or stable. He needed looking after.

“Why did he leave you?”

“He got sick and died. I wuz only 'bout ten or so. Kept gittin' passed around after that, handler ta handler. Grew up real fast. I fergot about Sheyman's love and what it wuz like ta be cared for like that. Don' know why, but it just came on me hard tonight. I really miss him.”

It was still too much for Kyle to process -- only ten years old? Still, he stumbled bravely ahead. “It's okay to miss people, but you shouldn't be brooding over it. Why don't you tell me a little bit more about how you got here. You also mentioned this person, Fallen. Tell me about her.”

“All right.”

Kimble briefly outlined who Fallen was and how she had found him shelved in a Dognan warehouse and brought him back to life. He left out the parts about Zander and the Clan. Those were private things and best forgotten. He went on to describe how Fallen's attempted suicide changed him forever and left him sort of stranded. He wasn't a hologram anymore. He didn't know what he was. Just that he needed energy as food to survive and had new powers he was only just learning how to use. Now he’d gotten fried with the plasma and didn’t yet know just what that was going to do to him, if anything. He wasn’t happy that he couldn’t shift. It worried him that he might be changed in other ways. He left out his internal trip to his private Black Room filled with the fractured remnants of his former selves. He wasn’t sure what it meant and wasn’t sure how Kyle would take it. He had made a new friend and didn’t want to frighten him away or make him leave. The X-men had taught him a thing or two about how fickle even the most friendliest of people could be and Kimble was a quick learner, so he was.

Kyle listened to Kimble's fantastic science fiction story with a kind of disbelief. If he hadn't seen Kimble melted and then resurrected himself, he wouldn't have accepted any of it. Now he wasn't sure how much was truth and how much was fantasy. He had to admit, his curiosity was piqued. Maybe he would stick around after all and make sure Kimble was properly taken care of. He wouldn’t volunteer to be a handler, nothing would make him go that far again, but he would put Kimble on his team and train him with the others. He knew Cameron would readily accept the offer as a compromise. Maybe he could keep Kimble out of trouble. Not all of Cameron’s people were good teachers or kind.

Kyle stood and held out his hand for Kimble to take. “You ready to meet my boss?”

“Uhm, shure. I guess,” Kimble said. He wiped at his face and crushed out the cigarette that had burned out long ago. He rose and followed Kyle down the hallway to Cameron’s office.

To read more click here : http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2608701/1/Shattered

 

[squeekness]

(Eleven)

Cameron’s office was huge, a suite unto itself. It was a corner office and had two huge windows looking out at the bright lights of the city. Another wall was covered in television cameras giving full view of the Club and its many floors. A full sized bathroom was off to the back and Kimble could see an open door leading off to a large meeting room as well. Cameron himself sat behind a humongous oak desk, his feet up to the blotter, a cigar burning merrily in a brass ashtray. He beamed a magnificent, toothy smile and rose to greet his new arrival. “At last. What a treat to finally meet you.”

“You wuz expectin’ me?” Kimble asked, confused and a little frightened.

“Of course. I have an advisor with the Sight. It was your destiny to join us. What a thrill to have you here.” He gave Kimble a snug embrace, squeezing him and letting Kimble touch him.

Kimble couldn’t help but be warmed by this man’s enthusiasm. It was in sharp contrast to all the rejection he’d been getting lately. Even the Professor hadn’t embraced him like this. He sat Kimble down in a large comfortable leather chair and asked him many questions, mostly about his life on Siska and his time spent with the X-men. It didn’t take him long to see Kimble hadn’t been happy there.

“Do you have any idea why you didn't fit in there?”

“Not really. Guess they don’t like me cuz I likes sex so much.”

Cameron was unfazed by his candor, in fact, he chuckled a little at his honesty. “I know why you didn’t fit in and it had nothing to do about sex. You’re different, special. Some people fear that, but I don’t. I can look right at you and see the potential there just waiting to be discovered and used. Tell me, what is it you want to do with your life?”

“I dunno. Have some fun, I guess. Make other folks feel good along the way.”

“What did they want you to do?”

“Be quiet. Stays outta trouble.”

“To do nothing?”

“Felt like it, sometimes. They wanted me ta be real still. Not make a sound. They wuz chokin' me,” he ended softly, turning his eyes away.

“Well, I don't want you to be quiet, Kimble. I want to hear you roar with the rush of your power. I'd like to help you discover just how powerful you are and what you can do with that power. Sound good to you?”

“Shure, but I cain't stay here. I needs the Ristle ta stay alive.”

“Yes, of course. You need energy on which to feed. Leon can provide that for you. You can use the plasma?”

Kimble shivered a little, remembering how wonderful the plasma was. “Yeah, I kin use it. But Leon don’ likes me cuz I likes ta take my pleasure with guys. He thinks it’s bad when it ain’t.”

Kyle was a little surprised by Kimble’s statement. He thought Kimble had been too tripped out to remember what Leon had said. He hoped there wasn’t going to be some kind of ugly tension between those two. It would be sure to cause problems.

“Don’t trouble yourself about Leon, son," Cameron was saying. "He was abused when he was very young. It’s difficult for him to understand love in its many forms. He is working hard on it. I have such high hopes for him. Perhaps when he sees you’re harmless, he’ll see he has nothing to fear.”

“I kin helps him?” Kimble asked with some surprise.

“Perhaps. Would you like that?”

KImble brightened at the suggestion. “Shure. I likes ta help people.”

“Good. Stay here with us, then. We will train you and you can work for us. In return, we will feed you and give you unlimited access to this club.”

Kimble grew even more hopeful than he had been at the suggestion he could be helpful. This he would enjoy even more. “I kin come here whenever I wants?”
“When your work is done, yes. Will you stay?”

Kimble was quiet as he considered his response. He moved away and walked up to one of the big corner windows and looked out at the night. He bowed his head down and held his hands to his chin, the perfect picture of contemplation. The two men watched him, but let him think in peace. Cameron really had no idea what he was asking. If Kimble were to stay, he would be giving up a lot -- his family, Remy. These people were not so easily left behind. He had to really think about this. He turned his inner eye to the circle of light in the Black Room of his mind.

“What should I do?” he found himself asking the others. He simply had nowhere else to turn for guidance.

“This could be good fer us,” Zander growled, deep and low. “I’ll jus’ bet they’ll teach us how ta fight. You gots the Club, all the sex you kin takes. What could be better?”
“Remy loves me. He’ll be sad if don’t come home.”

“They wants us,” Lakotashay replied in her tiny child’s voice. “Remy don’t. None of them X guys did.”

“Remy wants us. Jus’ not like that,” Kimble insisted.

Kyle stood dumbstruck. Kimble had spoken his words aloud --- all of them. He was holding a three way conversation, having a grand old time by himself with no clue of what he was doing. He was so lost in his conversation, that he hadn’t realized he was speaking aloud. He was very quiet and not all of his words could be heard. The three voices were distinctive enough, though. His memories were as files and the three voices unique and varied. There was the Quitter’s tiny childish whisper, the soft spoken Lover, and the deep gravel of the Punisher.

Kyle started to respond, shocked by what he was witnessing, but Cameron raised a finger to silence him. He seemed to be aware that Kimble was having a private discussion and not really talking to them. Kimble was quite still, his lips moving quickly as he debated softly in the three voices, unaware that the barriers between the three selves had been so melted away, he was speaking for all of them and could be heard and observed.

Kyle’s eyes were open wide. This was just too creepy. He cocked his head and tried to make out what was being said, but the voices were just too soft. He looked at Cameron, alarmed, but his boss was watching Kimble intently with predatory eyes. Once more Kyle was sure Cameron knew more than he was letting on and it pissed him off. This was just too unfair. How could he be expected to handle Kimble without getting all of the facts?

“We should be where somebody wants us,” ‘Shay insisted, wanting to be heard.
“We hafta train, Kim,” Zander pushed. “Let’s stay. We kin jus’ leave if we hates it.”

“All right,” Kimble said, his own desire for acceptance and a real home too strong to be ignored.

Kimble stepped away from the window and looked up at Cameron. “I wants ta stay but I gots ta call home. They’s gonna be lookin’ fer me.”

“No problem,” Cameron lied smoothly. He shot a look to Kyle that’s message was all too clear. This was not going to happen and Kyle would have to see to it. Kyle nodded numbly, unhappy.

Kimble smiled. “Well, all right then. Guess I’ll stick around a while.”

“Good. Now I’ve got someone I’d like you to meet.”

They made for the door. Kyle grabbed for Cameron’s arm to take him aside, but the older man just shushed him. “We will talk later my friend, have no worry. I am glad you changed your mind and will look after our guest.” He just smiled indulgently when Kyle shot him a look of anger. They had not discussed this but Cameron had known anyway. It pissed Kyle off, he hated to be seen as predictable.

“If you keep hiding things from me, I’m out of here,” he hissed, keeping his voice low so Kimble wouldn’t hear. The pilot was too busy checking out his new surroundings and paid them no mind.

“Don’t worry. We’ll have a little meeting after you get Kimble settled in. Now I want him to see Joshua. I can’t wait to see what Joshua has to say about him.”

To read more click here : http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2608701/1/Shattered

 

[squeekness]

(Twelve)

It was late that same evening when the Professor sat in his office, gathering information and trying to formulate some kind of plan. He had received some good news at least, the teams covering Cameron’s building that night reported in that Kimble was seen flying in to Cameron’s penthouse patio an hour ago, just as Gambit had predicted he might. He was with Kyle and seemed to be all right. He was talking and walking on his own although no one could hear what was said. They disappeared into the building and weren’t seen again.

Charles immediately called a meeting in the War Room, gathering Fallen, Henry and the members of the Blue team that were not watching Cameron’s building -- Wolverine and Bobby sat at the table while Nightcrawler and Scott lounged against the back wall. He told them what was said.

“Oh, thank God!” Fallen said when she heard the news and covered her face to keep from crying. There were no words to describe the level of relief she was feeling. She couldn’t wait to tell Seth his brother was okay.

“Guess our friend is more resilient than we thought,” Henry said, a relieved smile on his face. “Although I can’t imagine what a Med Scan of him would show. I fail to see how he came through something like that unscathed.”

“Maybe Kennedy was wrong,” Logan grumbled.

“I wasn’t wrong,” Kennedy replied smoothly, coming in the room with a grin. He was dressed in the usual leather and biker boots, but he smelled of cigarettes and the Club.

“Hey,” Logan greeted with a smile, happy to see him.

Kennedy returned the smile, not the least bit offended by Wolverine’s remarks. He tossed a pack of photos on the table. “Took them about an hour ago.”

Kennedy was a regular not just at the sleazy bars he and Gambit visited, but also at some of the bases of the enemy, in this case Cameron’s Club. His cooperation with the X-men was Kennedy’s greatest secret, very few knew he was really Xavier’s spy. He was in constant contact with the team and had gone inside Cameron’s Club the moment Warren and Jean spotted Kimble arriving up top. He’d managed to work his way upstairs just in time to take these pictures with a tiny hidden camera. He’d kept out of Kimble’s sight, but not out of range. They showed Kimble moving through the club and being led off by Melany.

“Nice pants,” Bobby snickered. Kimble was dressed in the pajama pants and looked very much out of place.

“What happened to his jeans?” Fallen asked, squinting at the photos. “He always makes his own clothes. He wouldn’t need these.”

“Perhaps he was damaged, then,” Henry replied.

“Maybe he’s just got real bad taste in clothes,” Bobby said, unable to resist.

“Where’s he going?” Cyclops asked. He was looking at one of Kimble being led away.

“The Purple Room,” Kennedy said with a smile. He laughed when he saw Gambit snicker and look away.

“What’s the Purple Room?”

“It’s a co-op for the multi-talented. Looks like your boy knows his way around,” Kennedy replied, winking at Remy.

“Excuse me?” Scott said irritably.

Kennedy was quick to answer, and just as quick to tease, “It’s a sex Club, Cyke. That’s not a room for beginners. Not a place for you, I’m sure.”

A dark scowl crossed Scott’s face, but he got the point.

“How’d you get these so fast?” Wolverine interrupted. Arguing wasn’t going to help here, although he smiled at Kennedy’s comment. Any dig at Scott was fine by him.

“Had some friends cook them up for me and I gave Nightcrawler here a jingle. He ‘ported me over here, saved me the cab fare,” he explained with a soft chuckle at his joke.

Logan smiled at that, glancing at Kurt who gave him a small salute. It was true that Nightcrawler’s ability to teleport had made things much easier, especially when it came to time critical deliveries.

Charles ignored the banter of his crew and looked over the pictures, frowning unhappily. Kimble seemed okay, he was smiling, but the Professor was still worried. He was concerned about what Remy had said about Kimble being naive. Clearly he was being coerced and manipulated, his sexual needs being used against him. More upsetting than that was how Cameron seemed to know so much about Kimble. He prayed Cameron didn’t have a spy here and was using some other means to gain his knowledge. Betrayal was a hard thing to overcome.

“We should keep two teams in place until we can figure out our next move,” Charles said wearily. “One team will watch the penthouse, another on the ground. We may have to use some of the newer recruits for this. It’ll give them some field experience, but no fighting. If something goes down, the new people stay behind. I won’t sacrifice any of the kids for this.”

“We goin’ in den, patron?” Remy prompted. He was abusing yet another piece of gum, unable to keep still in his anticipation. He was thrilled Kimble was okay and was impatient to bring him back.

“Yeah, that’s real smart, Cajun,” Wolverine growled. “That place is crawling with Cameron’s people and we don’t know where he is inside. Not a good idea.”

“D’accorde. Den we sneak in.”

“We’re all too well known,” Cyclops countered. “We won’t get past his security.”

“Fallen’s got cloaks.”

“Too risky,” Wolverine said. “He’s got people that can sniff us out. I like a good brawl as much as you, Cajun, but we need more than what we’ve got.”

“Let’s just have some patience, people. We can work this out. The main thing is to gather as much intelligence as we can,” Charles said, nodding in agreement at Logan. He went on to say that Kennedy was a familiar face seen in all the clubs. He would be the inside man, inside the Club itself, watching the lower level to see if Kimble should leave. It would be best to try and take Kimble on the outside if they could get a chance. The stakeout teams were organized and shifts set up. Fallen, Logan and Remy would take the first shift in the morning.

The meeting broke up and the room emptied out. Remy stayed behind, leaning on the big table and staring at the Professor with his red, glittering eyes. “Sittin’ on some rooftop ain’t gonna be good enough fo’ me, patron.”

“Patience, my good thief. All in good time. We will bring him home. Once we’ve set a goal, there hasn’t been anything we haven’t accomplished. This will be no different.”

Gambit nodded and walked out, his head down.

To read more click here : http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2608701/1/Shattered

 

[squeekness]

(Thirteen)

Kimble walked into Joshua’s dimly lit apartment, already awed by the mystical surroundings. The room he was in was dark, the only real light came from the sconce candles which were still lit, even though some feeble moonlight could be seen through an open window. Joshua only had them open at night, the daylight was much too bright for his sensitive eyes. Tapestries and paintings of wizards and mythical beasts were hung in between the lights, adding to the atmosphere of having gone to another place. There was no regular furniture, only large cushions for seats and candle stands all over. The floor was carpeted in rich fabric, but Kimble couldn’t tell the color, it was too dim. He went to where he was told and sat on a cushion in front of a low table.

Joshua came in from a door that was disguised in the darkness. It was as though he had melted out of the darkness itself, startling Kimble a little. Cameron’s mysterious councillor was wearing the dark robes as usual and slowly pulled back his hood in an exaggerated, dramatic gesture. Kimble gasped sharply when he saw Joshua was an albino. He peered at Kimble with his pink eyes and demanded, “Show me the Mark.”

Kimble cocked his head up at him. “What?”

“Your tattoo,” Cameron said gently from behind him.

Kimble stood up and arched his back as Cameron’s strange advisor circled him. He rotated slowly, amused by Joshua’s curiosity. He grunted a small laugh when Joshua reached out and ran a finger down the length of the Sword. He liked this man’s touch. He took a deep breath and flexed his abdominal muscles, sniffing up at Joshua with interest.

Joshua smiled at him. “I want to see you.”

“All right.” Kimble dropped his pants without a care and stood proudly, showing off his naked beauty. He liked the way Joshua was looking at him. The robed man paced around him, touching him here and there lightly, impressed with his pilot’s body. Kimble was growing aroused and didn’t try to hide it.

“You are beautiful,” Joshua purred.

“Thanks.” Kimble tracked him with his eyes. “Lay with me,” he demanded in turn boldly, enchanted by Joshua’s otherworldliness. He reached out with his hand to Joshua’s pale white face, but the albino stopped him.

“I am not for you. Another awaits,” Joshua promised, not the least bit thrown by Kimble’s proposal. He seemed to have anticipated Kimble’s response and smiled.

“Kind of a shame. I likes yer skin. Yer all white like me.”

“And what are you?”

“What do ya thinks I am?” Kimble countered playfully, his eyes teasing.

“You are the ShaRain.”

“That’s right. La ShaRain natay LaRoo. Guardian Angel. Least that’s what I calls myself when I’m foolin’ around.”

“You are the ShaRain and this is no joke,” Joshua said firmly.

His seriousness frightened Kimble a little and his smile faltered. “What do ya means?”

“You are looking for the LaRoo.”

“No. An angel’s gonna come lookin’ fer me. LaRoo, it means angel. I gots sumpthin ta do but I won’t know what it is ‘till my angel comes.”

Joshua glanced at Cameron and shrugged. Same thing only different.

“What I don’ unnerstand is how yous even know about it. I was told b’fore I got here an’ I ain’t told nobody ‘cept my Fallen.”

“Joshua knows lots of things,” Cameron said enigmatically. Kimble was a little spooked by Cameron’s ominous tone of voice and he rushed to say something comforting. “Don’t worry, nothing bad will happen to you here.”

Joshua spoke before Kimble could say anything else. “Tell me. What does the word “Channeler” mean to you?”

Kimble was quiet, but his insides were jumping. The word had sent a shock right through him and then waited as if he was supposed to do something now, but he had no idea what. Channeler. That word meant something to him, it had to, to affect him like this. He frowned. “It makes me feel funny.”

“Funny how?”

“I dunno. Kinda scared.”

Joshua came up to him and lay both his hands over Kimble’s chest. He closed his eyes and whispered the word again. Kimble trembled again as that strange vibration coursed through him and a flood of images poured into Joshua’s mind. The albino smiled, happy now. He had Seen what he needed to know, what had eluded him in his visions until now. He looked up into Kimble’s face and said, “What do you know of swords?”

“I hates ‘em,” Kimble replied and backed away. Zander swirled restlessly from within, rattling his chains. He knew what a sword was good for. Yes, indeed. “Alls they do is kill people.”

“Easy, son,” Kyle said, giving Joshua a hard look. He didn’t know what was going on, but this was too spooky. He didn’t like Kimble’s fear. It was as if he had actually seen swords in use and was terrified. Perhaps he had. They knew so little of Kimble, all that was certain was that Kimble wasn’t human and wasn’t even from around here.

“A sword is a useful tool. I should know, I have a couple myself. I could teach you to use them,” Joshua suggested.

“Don’t wanna hurts nobody,” Kimble replied, lowering his eyes.

“For fun then,” he insisted.

Kimble, Zander growled. You knows a sword is weapon. We’s suppozta learn it all. Evrathin’, includin’ this.

I hates the sword, ya know what it does. It killed all them guys on Nine, I cain’t.

Then let me.

Can ya kills y’self with a sword? Lakotashay asked, breaking up the conversation.

Kimble was horrified. “No!” he shouted then backed up and said more quietly. “I don’t thinks I wants ta learn no swords.”

Cameron noticed Kimble’s discomfort. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Just think about it, okay? Nothing will happen to you. We want to help you learn your powers and become all that you can be. We will discover just what a Channeler is together, how about that? Stay and join us.”

“Why’re ya helpin’ me?”

“That’s what we do. We help mutants who are lost or own their own. They join us and help our cause,” Cameron explained.

Kimble was reassured by the familiar sound of this and settled down. It was the same as the Clan had done back on Cerise. Kimble had helped Fallen rescue countless alphas from the Dognan pens. The alphas would then join the Clan and strengthen them with their powers. It had seemed to work out pretty good for all involved then, he had no reason to question it here. It was also the same rhetoric he’d heard at Xavier’s. Maybe he couldn’t hang there, but he might be able to do better here, especially since Cameron wasn’t put off by his need for the Club. He might actually find true acceptance. It was the only thing that could make him willingly walk away from Remy, the one and only thing. One thing was certain though, he had no intention of learning the sword. That was a promise.

Cameron continued to work Kimble, saying that which he knew the pilot wanted to hear. “We can see you are special and we will help take care of you. All we ask is that you help out on one of our teams. You can stay with Kyle, he has an opening now. Would you like that?”

“Yeah,” Kimble answered. “Kyle’s been real nice ta me.”

“Leon is on his team now as well. He has agreed to give you all the plasma you need. See? This is how we all help each other here.”

“All right. I’ll stay, I guess,” Kimble said. He was still a little spooked and uncertain.
“Are ya shure ya wants me? The last group I was with wuz pissed off at me alla the time me cuz I wants ta play so much. I don’ want no more trouble.”

“The Club will take care of that. We want you to with us. We accept you for who and what you are,” Cameron said carefully, choosing the words Joshua had told him to use when he had predicted Kimble’s coming. He had been told of Kimble’s sexual needs and insecurities. He saw these things as tools to be used to control this wonderful new potential weapon.

Kimble beamed, hooked in. He was happy now at the thought of being someplace where he was wanted and could be useful. “Well, all right then. I’ll help yous with whatever ya want.”

“Good,” Cameron said, clasping his hands. “I’ll have Kyle settle you in. I’m sure we have a spare bed someplace for you.”

“Gail has no roommate,” Joshua said, blinking at Cameron and smiling ever so slightly.

“That’ll do.”

“Sir?” Kyle said and waited. It wasn’t customary to bed co-operatively, in fact it was discouraged. Gail was waiting for the next female recruit, not a man, certainly not a sexual creature as Kimble was. It could only lead to trouble.

Cameron just held up a hand. “That will be fine.”

Kyle sighed and shook his head. What was going on? All the rules were being broken for Kimble, why? There was more going on here than it seemed. He would have to have a long talk with Cameron about this and how Kimble should best be handled.

To read more click here : http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2608701/1/Shattered

 

[squeekness]

(Thirteen)

Kimble walked into Joshua’s dimly lit apartment, already awed by the mystical surroundings. The room he was in was dark, the only real light came from the sconce candles which were still lit, even though some feeble moonlight could be seen through an open window. Joshua only had them open at night, the daylight was much too bright for his sensitive eyes. Tapestries and paintings of wizards and mythical beasts were hung in between the lights, adding to the atmosphere of having gone to another place. There was no regular furniture, only large cushions for seats and candle stands all over. The floor was carpeted in rich fabric, but Kimble couldn’t tell the color, it was too dim. He went to where he was told and sat on a cushion in front of a low table.

Joshua came in from a door that was disguised in the darkness. It was as though he had melted out of the darkness itself, startling Kimble a little. Cameron’s mysterious councillor was wearing the dark robes as usual and slowly pulled back his hood in an exaggerated, dramatic gesture. Kimble gasped sharply when he saw Joshua was an albino. He peered at Kimble with his pink eyes and demanded, “Show me the Mark.”

Kimble cocked his head up at him. “What?”

“Your tattoo,” Cameron said gently from behind him.

Kimble stood up and arched his back as Cameron’s strange advisor circled him. He rotated slowly, amused by Joshua’s curiosity. He grunted a small laugh when Joshua reached out and ran a finger down the length of the Sword. He liked this man’s touch. He took a deep breath and flexed his abdominal muscles, sniffing up at Joshua with interest.

Joshua smiled at him. “I want to see you.”

“All right.” Kimble dropped his pants without a care and stood proudly, showing off his naked beauty. He liked the way Joshua was looking at him. The robed man paced around him, touching him here and there lightly, impressed with his pilot’s body. Kimble was growing aroused and didn’t try to hide it.

“You are beautiful,” Joshua purred.

“Thanks.” Kimble tracked him with his eyes. “Lay with me,” he demanded in turn boldly, enchanted by Joshua’s otherworldliness. He reached out with his hand to Joshua’s pale white face, but the albino stopped him.

“I am not for you. Another awaits,” Joshua promised, not the least bit thrown by Kimble’s proposal. He seemed to have anticipated Kimble’s response and smiled.

“Kind of a shame. I likes yer skin. Yer all white like me.”

“And what are you?”

“What do ya thinks I am?” Kimble countered playfully, his eyes teasing.

“You are the ShaRain.”

“That’s right. La ShaRain natay LaRoo. Guardian Angel. Least that’s what I calls myself when I’m foolin’ around.”

“You are the ShaRain and this is no joke,” Joshua said firmly.

His seriousness frightened Kimble a little and his smile faltered. “What do ya means?”

“You are looking for the LaRoo.”

“No. An angel’s gonna come lookin’ fer me. LaRoo, it means angel. I gots sumpthin ta do but I won’t know what it is ‘till my angel comes.”

Joshua glanced at Cameron and shrugged. Same thing only different.

“What I don’ unnerstand is how yous even know about it. I was told b’fore I got here an’ I ain’t told nobody ‘cept my Fallen.”

“Joshua knows lots of things,” Cameron said enigmatically. Kimble was a little spooked by Cameron’s ominous tone of voice and he rushed to say something comforting. “Don’t worry, nothing bad will happen to you here.”

Joshua spoke before Kimble could say anything else. “Tell me. What does the word “Channeler” mean to you?”

Kimble was quiet, but his insides were jumping. The word had sent a shock right through him and then waited as if he was supposed to do something now, but he had no idea what. Channeler. That word meant something to him, it had to, to affect him like this. He frowned. “It makes me feel funny.”

“Funny how?”

“I dunno. Kinda scared.”

Joshua came up to him and lay both his hands over Kimble’s chest. He closed his eyes and whispered the word again. Kimble trembled again as that strange vibration coursed through him and a flood of images poured into Joshua’s mind. The albino smiled, happy now. He had Seen what he needed to know, what had eluded him in his visions until now. He looked up into Kimble’s face and said, “What do you know of swords?”

“I hates ‘em,” Kimble replied and backed away. Zander swirled restlessly from within, rattling his chains. He knew what a sword was good for. Yes, indeed. “Alls they do is kill people.”

“Easy, son,” Kyle said, giving Joshua a hard look. He didn’t know what was going on, but this was too spooky. He didn’t like Kimble’s fear. It was as if he had actually seen swords in use and was terrified. Perhaps he had. They knew so little of Kimble, all that was certain was that Kimble wasn’t human and wasn’t even from around here.

“A sword is a useful tool. I should know, I have a couple myself. I could teach you to use them,” Joshua suggested.

“Don’t wanna hurts nobody,” Kimble replied, lowering his eyes.

“For fun then,” he insisted.

Kimble, Zander growled. You knows a sword is weapon. We’s suppozta learn it all. Evrathin’, includin’ this.

I hates the sword, ya know what it does. It killed all them guys on Nine, I cain’t.

Then let me.

Can ya kills y’self with a sword? Lakotashay asked, breaking up the conversation.

Kimble was horrified. “No!” he shouted then backed up and said more quietly. “I don’t thinks I wants ta learn no swords.”

Cameron noticed Kimble’s discomfort. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Just think about it, okay? Nothing will happen to you. We want to help you learn your powers and become all that you can be. We will discover just what a Channeler is together, how about that? Stay and join us.”

“Why’re ya helpin’ me?”

“That’s what we do. We help mutants who are lost or own their own. They join us and help our cause,” Cameron explained.

Kimble was reassured by the familiar sound of this and settled down. It was the same as the Clan had done back on Cerise. Kimble had helped Fallen rescue countless alphas from the Dognan pens. The alphas would then join the Clan and strengthen them with their powers. It had seemed to work out pretty good for all involved then, he had no reason to question it here. It was also the same rhetoric he’d heard at Xavier’s. Maybe he couldn’t hang there, but he might be able to do better here, especially since Cameron wasn’t put off by his need for the Club. He might actually find true acceptance. It was the only thing that could make him willingly walk away from Remy, the one and only thing. One thing was certain though, he had no intention of learning the sword. That was a promise.

Cameron continued to work Kimble, saying that which he knew the pilot wanted to hear. “We can see you are special and we will help take care of you. All we ask is that you help out on one of our teams. You can stay with Kyle, he has an opening now. Would you like that?”

“Yeah,” Kimble answered. “Kyle’s been real nice ta me.”

“Leon is on his team now as well. He has agreed to give you all the plasma you need. See? This is how we all help each other here.”

“All right. I’ll stay, I guess,” Kimble said. He was still a little spooked and uncertain.
“Are ya shure ya wants me? The last group I was with wuz pissed off at me alla the time me cuz I wants ta play so much. I don’ want no more trouble.”

“The Club will take care of that. We want you to with us. We accept you for who and what you are,” Cameron said carefully, choosing the words Joshua had told him to use when he had predicted Kimble’s coming. He had been told of Kimble’s sexual needs and insecurities. He saw these things as tools to be used to control this wonderful new potential weapon.

Kimble beamed, hooked in. He was happy now at the thought of being someplace where he was wanted and could be useful. “Well, all right then. I’ll help yous with whatever ya want.”

“Good,” Cameron said, clasping his hands. “I’ll have Kyle settle you in. I’m sure we have a spare bed someplace for you.”

“Gail has no roommate,” Joshua said, blinking at Cameron and smiling ever so slightly.

“That’ll do.”

“Sir?” Kyle said and waited. It wasn’t customary to bed co-operatively, in fact it was discouraged. Gail was waiting for the next female recruit, not a man, certainly not a sexual creature as Kimble was. It could only lead to trouble.

Cameron just held up a hand. “That will be fine.”

Kyle sighed and shook his head. What was going on? All the rules were being broken for Kimble, why? There was more going on here than it seemed. He would have to have a long talk with Cameron about this and how Kimble should best be handled.

To read more click here : http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2608701/1/Shattered

 

[squeekness]

Kyle brought Kimble upstairs to where the Freedom Kings lived and did their work. He showed Kimble around, showing him the training rooms and the gym. They did not possess the technology the X-men did and had to rely on more conventional methods of training. The gym was huge and filled with large obstacle courses and workout equipment. There were a few mutants huffing and puffing away, running the courses without using their powers. Kyle explained that they took maintaining their physical condition very seriously. They never knew when some freak might put a restraining collar on them and their powers were negated. Cameron wanted his crew ready for any contingency.

Kyle took Kimble down to the living quarters. They all shared a large common room, but most of them hung out in the Club in their free time. He said they were a little short on space at the moment and Cameron decided that he should bunk with Gail, she was the only one without a roommate at the moment. He left Kimble at the door to his room, patting him on the back and saying he should try and get some sleep. It was now quite late and they wanted him to start with classes the next morning. The training here was run like a formal school with rules and everything. He gave Kimble a scrap of paper with a schedule on it, smiling gently when he saw Kimble make a face.

“I ain’t so good with schedules,” Kimble groaned.

“Just do your best.” He patted Kimble on the back again and walked away.

Kimble walked in the room slowly, feeling a little out of place in this large dormitory. He saw an empty bed and clean night stand and figured this must be the place where he was supposed to go. Kimble sat down on the bed, feeling a little lost. He didn’t own anything except the pants that Kyle had given him and it made him feel a little sad.

Gail’s side of the room was cluttered and well lived in, not unlike the work station he used to have in the Lucky Dragon’s control room. She didn’t have any nude pictures, but did have a lot of statues and figures of naked women in sensual, sexy poses. They were sleek and beautiful, everything she wasn’t. She was a dragon lady in the fullest sense, a lizard in vague human form and would never be normal again. Her bed didn’t have the usual blankets, her bed clothes were made of rough canvas and thick wooly cloth because her scales would shred ordinary blankets. Her own clothes were made of the same rough materials. She didn’t have a regular full uniform like the rest of the team, she was limited to a basic bra top and pants, but she did have an arm band with the King’s logo on it.

The girl herself was sitting on her bed and looking with amusement at his lost and forlorn expression. She was her usual half human, half lizard self, her scales glinting in the light of the room. She had been forewarned about her new roommate and hadn’t put up much of a fuss. Most folks moved in and moved on, finding her gruesome appearance too much to handle for long.

She smiled at him in her toothy way. “Nothing to put away?”

He shrugged and tugged on his clothes. “Jus’ me, I guess,” he said with a playful smile.

“Light traveler, huh?” she teased with a laugh. She was surprised he wasn’t making excuses to flee or even acting uncomfortable around her. “Well, nobody should have a bare night stand. It’s bad luck.” She said, feeling oddly generous. She stood up and brought him one of her small statues. She set it carefully down on the small stand and was rewarded with a small Kimble smile.

“My name is Gail.” She offered her hand, curious if he would take it.

He did. “I’m Kimble. I ‘members you from the other night. ‘Bout the only thing I can remember,” he said with a laugh.

“Yeah, well. I’m hard to forget,” she said a little sadly.

She expected him to say something about how ugly she was, most men did, but instead he said, “Yeah, I likes the way yer scales catch the light. They’s kinda shimmery, ya know? Like feathers.”

She cocked her head at him in surprise. Someone who wanted to have a conversation with her, how rare. How nice. “Are you hungry?”

“Don’t eat regular food like yous guys,” Kimble said. “I eats energy, plasma. Like Leon makes. But thanks fer askin’.”

“You can’t eat regular food? That sucks.”

“Oh, I kin eat. Jus’ don hafta, is all.”

Gail reached behind her to her night stand and found a box of Twinkies. She held one up. “I’m a sucker for junk food. You like?”

Kimble grinned and came over. “I like.”

He sat next to her on the bed and munched his treat happily. She took his class schedule and clicked her tongue. “Wow. Newbie stuff. I don’t miss this.”

“I ain’t never been in no formal school.”

“I can tell,” she said with a laugh at his poor English.

He just snickered at her. “I ain’t dumb, though. I knows lotsa things.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“I kin fly a space ship.”

She looked at him seriously for a moment, then busted up laughing.

“What? Ya don’ b’lieve me?”

She couldn’t answer, she was too busy giggling.

“Oh, shure. That wuz my best best pick up line,” he joked. He should’ve known he wouldn’t be taken seriously. They didn’t fly ships here, not that he saw anyway. The Lucky Dragon was unique.

She patted his shoulder, careful with her hands. Her scales could cut. “You’re cute, you know that? But it’s late. You should try and sleep.”

Kimble went over to his bed, but he was too excited to sleep. He snuggled down and Gail shut off the light, still laughing. He wasn’t even close to being sleepy and would snicker at her, keeping her laughter going until she finally threw a pillow at him. He settled down eventually, watching her glow shimmer in the dark. She was happy now, a much different color than when he’d first walked in. It pleased him and he closed his eyes, contented. In a few minutes, he was fast asleep.

-------------------------
(Fourteen)

Logan was sitting at the breakfast table when he heard the door bell ring. He ignored it until it rang four times then got up with a growled complaint. He quieted when he remembered that they were short handed now because of Jael’s little prank.

“Stupid f--kin’ Jael, f--kin’ a--hole...” He was still complaining when he opened the door, but stopped in surprise when he saw a pretty redhead waiting on the steps.

She blushed uncertainly when she caught the last half of his sentence. “Oh, excuse me!”

“Sorry, ma’am. That wasn’t meant fer you.” He grinned at her and she smiled back, something unexpected. Most female strangers were wary of him, their instincts to flee hard to overcome. She was very pretty. “Can I help you?”

“Yes. My name is Karen Richards. I’m looking for Charles Xavier. I’m here for Molly.”

Wolverine blinked in surprise. He didn’t know who he had expected, but this striking young woman wasn’t it. Most shrinks he’d been subjected to were wrinkled and old, clinically bored wastes of time. This young woman was fresh and pretty, obviously a student and not the full fledged doctor he’d believed her to be. She was casually dressed and carried a worn out leather satchel. She smiled at him uncertainly, given pause by his staring at her.

Logan smiled at her quickly, embarrassed that he’d been looking at her like that. “Molly? Don’tcha mean Carver?”

“Molly is Carver’s real name. May I come in?”

“Sure.” Logan backed up and let her in. He breathed her in, instantly loving the smell of her. She was wearing Charlie, a scent he favored. She was a city girl and not from Salem Center. She didn’t smoke or drink and she’d eaten at a donut shop for breakfast. She was young and healthy. He shook his head slightly to clear his thinking. Sometimes his nose ran away with itself. He didn’t want to frighten her.

She noticed him sniffing at her even though he had done it very subtly. It was something Molly did. It didn’t bother her, but it told her something about him. She worked with mutants as part of her schooling and wasn’t afraid of them. She had always regarded them as people with gifts. She believed Molly could be tamed and this man only confirmed that. He was obviously a feral creature much like Molly was. It was in the animalistic way he’d assessed her.

“Is the Professor in?”

“Yeah, Charlie’s around.” He sniffed again, searching. “This way.” He led her down a hallway and into an office.

“Oh hello, Karen,” the Professor greeted, rolling over to shake her hand.

“Charles.” She bent and kissed him.

“Logan, this is Karen Richards. We met last year while I was giving a speech at the University. She’s quite bright, very inquisitive.”

“That’s a polite way of saying I’m into everybody’s business,” she said with a laugh and a carefree toss of her head. “I’m very direct.”

“Then that’s something you and Logan here have in common,” Charles replied with a chuckle. The Professor had noticed Logan lingering in the doorway and smiled inwardly. He could see Logan was interested in their guest. “It’s been too long since I saw you last. Logan, why don’t you bring Karen down to see...Molly, is it?”

“Yes. That’s her name. The SHIELD guys called her Carver because she slashed up everything. It’s not her true name and I’m sure she resents it.”

“She don’t talk much,” Logan growled.

Karen smiled at him indulgently. “That’s because she can’t. The injury to her throat was too severe. She can make noises, grunts, but can’t articulate clearly. She can sign. Hadn’t you noticed?”

Logan groaned inwardly. Oops. Guess she wasn’t just some feeb after all, wringing her hands.

“Regrettably, no,” the Professor said, letting Logan off the hook. “We were amazed by her mental defenses. None of our telepaths could really reach her. That’s very unusual.”

“Yes, she is very strong. It’s what has helped to keep her alive.”

Logan looked at the Professor. “Is Karen clear ta go to the lower level?”

“Yes, Logan. It will be all right.”

Logan smiled again and graciously swept his arm out into the hallway. “This way.”

Logan walked Karen through the house and to the lower levels, his eyes straying to her face, to her soft white hands. She walked with a confidence that matched his own and her eyes saw everything. She would catch him looking at her and smiled at him, finding it funny. He had never been a subtle man.

Logan scanned his hand and led Karen down to the holding cells. He kept smelling her, trying not to be too obvious about it. He couldn’t help but be attracted to her with her red hair and kindly smile. She had certainly brightened his day. His step was light and jaunty as he strode into the holding area. He nodded a greeting at Iceman on guard.

“Bobby, this is Karen Richards. She’s gonna be helpin’ us out with our new guest.”

Bobby smiled at her. “I hope you can read minds, doc. She hasn’t said a peep.”

“She can’t speak. She’s had an injury to her throat.”

“Uh, oh. All right,” he replied, rolling his eyes in a playful, ‘Gee, aren’t we stupid’ gesture and she laughed.

Wolverine looked in on Joseph as he passed by. Joe was sitting up, staring off into space, a small line of drool hanging from his chin. His eyes were glassy and his mind elsewhere. It was time to get the Clansman out of here and he would speak to Henry about it first thing. He waited for Karen to comment on the zoned out Clansman, but she kept quiet and made her way to Molly’s room. Logan cocked his head in surprise when he heard Carver bark at Karen. It was a low throaty bark, almost like a male lion calling out to its mate.

“Good morning, Molly,” Karen said with a wide smile. “How are you?”

Molly signed rapidly with her hands, grunting here and there for emphasis.

“Better now that you’ve seen me, yes. I’m glad to see you too. How about we get you out of here?” She turned and smiled at Logan, willing him to obey her request.

Logan walked to the security desk and clicked a button. He spoke with the Professor and got permission to let Molly out as long as she stayed with Karen down in the lower levels. They could visit Henry in the Lab and have an early lunch. Logan grinned, happy to have the excuse to stay near their new guest and gleefully let Molly out. As soon as she was freed, Molly flew into Karen’s arms and gave her a huge hug.

Karen laughed and squeezed her back. “Easy, girl. Don’t get too excited. How about we take a look around? When we come back I’ll help you clean up a little. Look at you, you’re a mess,” she complained, tugging on Molly’s tangled hair. She laughed and they headed off to the Lab.

To read more click here : http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2608701/1/Shattered

 

[squeekness]

(Fifteen)

Sabretooth was not having a good day. He was still pissed off over the botched Kimble job. That had taken him weeks to set up and then he had watched as three million dollars worth of bounty went up in flames. Damn. He had planned on using that money for a well earned vacation for him and his crew. They’d been pulling a lot of jobs lately and could have all used a break. Now just this morning he'd received a note from Jael saying he wanted to meet with him. What exactly was he supposed to say in his defense? It wasn’t his fault that Kyle’s spastic little plasma boy gotten a little carried away.

He was sitting in a comfortable metal chair in a roadside café sipping a nice little cappuccino, feeling the warm sun heat up his shoulders and enjoying it. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, taking in the warm air and scents of the City around him. Creed didn’t feel pleasure often, it was something elusive and when found, savored. He was a large man, almost six feet and heavily muscled. He gave off an air of danger and as folks came here to sit, they left a ring of empty tables around him, subconsciously protecting themselves.

Creed was crazy, completely certifiable. He was an unstoppable killing machine and it came out in his posture of arrogance and superiority. He was comfortably dressed in expensive leather, the only clothing that made him feel natural. He also wore a long trench coat to hide his concealed weapons (he always carried at least two guns at all times) and had a pair of soft leather gloves to match. He looked a little like Gambit at that moment, wearing the garb of sneaks and thieves.

He looked over the pathetic norms around him, knowing he could wipe out half of them in less than a minute if he'd had a mind to. He wore the gloves to cover his claws whenever he was out in public. He had been well trained in the use of all weapons and explosives. He knew how to arm a nuclear missile or disarm it if needs be. He had always been curious what it would be like to see one of those babies go off. To walk the streets of the charred city and view the dead, laughing. Like Wolverine, he was quite old, but hadn’t been around when the first two atomic bombs had been detonated. He was too busy pulling secret service jobs in Russia at the time. What a shame. He did get to Nagasaki later, but by then things had been pretty much cleaned up.

Like Wolverine, Victor Creed was quite old, over one hundred years old at least. His regenerative and healing powers had kept him alive and in good health through all of his scraps and troubles. He looked little more than thirty-five or so. He had been born into abject poverty and raised by a cruel and embittered father. He had lived in a one room shack with a dirt floor as a bed and a bottle of whiskey his only comfort. He didn’t have the luxury of a childhood and was put to work alongside his father as soon as he could walk. His father was the grounds keeper at a huge mansion and so he worked alongside him instead of playing happily with other children his own age.

He recalled vaguely two playmates he did spend some time with when he was very young, but they were dim memories, unfocused. He probably could bring them up with sharper recall if he tried, but wasn’t really motivated. Whoever they were, he hadn’t played with them for long. As soon as he was strong enough to work full time, out to the fields he went.

He didn’t own his first pair of shoes until he was sixteen and those he’d stolen off an even less fortunate beggar than himself. His whole life had been one long continuous nightmare since the day of his birth and he didn’t really know what it was like to be loved or live a normal life. He had known few kindnesses and those were long ago and forgotten. Those simple facts were the most basic cause of his madness. His mutation caused him to be more feral than most humans and denied the basic foundations of control and caring for others, he had evolved into the madman he was today.

Sabretooth was an alpha mutant, his powers being superior to most and he was well trained in the use of them. He possessed animal keen senses as did Wolverine and had long talon like claws at the ends of his fingers. He was stronger than most men his size and could slash through most anything. He also shared Logan’s ability to heal rapidly. They had a long standing dislike for one another in spite of once having worked closely together on the same Weapon X team. He viewed Logan as weak because he refused to give into the beast as he himself had.

Both men had been lured into the risky business of soldiering as was fit for men of their abilities. Unfortunately it also led them to the same Weapon X program that had shattered their minds and robbed them of their memories. The program had been restarted a couple of months ago and Sabretooth had been captured and had his memory restored as an incentive to rejoin his former affiliation. Creed had accepted, drawn in more for the large payoffs they offered than for a bunch of stupid memories he wasn’t sure what to do with. So what if he remembered the face of his father, a man who had beaten him without mercy? That was one he could have done without, that and a pathetic, horrible childhood best forgotten.

He now performed odd jobs for the new Weapon X, being very well paid of course. An assassination here, a kidnaping there. He was too violent for the regular roster and was given his own team. He was autonomous as long as he behaved and didn’t get too carried away with the blood. The Kimble job had been a side project and not part of Weapon X.

Creed was startled as a pretty young woman accidently bumped into his table. “Oh! Excuse me!” she giggled.

“No problem, Ma’am,” he growled back, swallowing the urge to gut her. It just wouldn’t do to spill blood out in the open like this. She was quite beautiful and managed an uneasy smile at him before moving away as quickly as possible.

He watched her go, angered at the disturbance, yet aroused by her fine skin and large green eyes. It had been a while since he’d been with a woman, the downside of working too hard. He knew there was no way he would ever get a creature as fine as her without a fight and he just wasn’t up to a stalk and rape today. Not when there were much easier targets.

He paid his bill and rose, walking over to his car. He moved around the country a lot so he was driving a rental purchased under a false identity. It was just as well. This one probably wasn’t going to get returned. Once he set his mind on something, it was hard to change it. He drove off to one of the less desirable parts of town and soon found what he was looking for. Fresh young meat, thumb outstretched, hooking in the middle of the day. How sweet. He lured the girl into his car with promises of a nice big tip and they drove off somewhere quiet.

The poor girl got more than she’d bargained for. Creed was a man ruled by violence. Normal patterns of behavior were beyond him. The concept of making love for mutual pleasure was something lost to him long ago, he only knew how to abuse and rape. He had her half dead from being beaten before he ever got around to actually having sex with her. Creed’s pleasure came from the rape and torture of his victims. The beating was his idea of foreplay. He took her roughly, muffling her screams with a massive paw of a hand and didn’t really care when she passed out from the abuse.

He raped her viciously three more times before he grew tired of her. He was cursed with a high metabolism and had an oversized libido to match. He was insatiable once aroused. He dozed off lightly in between rounds, rousing when she started to wake. For the girl it was a never ending nightmare.

Her only relief came when he finally killed her. He never allowed any of the girls he used to live. He’d fathered a child only once that he was aware of. It was accidental but had been enough. He’d been seduced by the mutant shapeshifter Mystique and she’d escaped before he could kill her. The monster they had produced had been born a normal human, named Greydon Creed. Mystique’s little joke, giving him the same last name of his father. Once Greydon found out his parents had been mutant criminals of the worst sort, both assassins, he organized an anti-mutant terrorist group called Friends of Humanity.

The Friends of Humanity was a shadow group of mutant hunters and spreaders of anti-mutant propaganda and lies. They were largely responsible for most of the hate felt by mutants and drove most of the regular mutants into hiding. They were now lobbying for mutant registration and holding camps. To protect society, they claimed.
Sabretooth had been horrified and disgusted by the cowardly acts committed by his son and he killed him, vowing never to allow such a thing to happen again. Creed could later be tracked by the trail of dead prostitutes and unfortunates he picked up.

The sad thing was, his martyred son had only fueled the Friends of Humanity’s enthusiasm and they were still around, skulking in the corners, slaughtering all the mutants they could find, calling it self defense against a new race destined to oppress the norms. Creed made a point of killing any of their members he found as well, drawing out the pain just to hear them scream. It wasn’t that Sabretooth cared so much about other mutants that he wanted to protect them, he was just embarrassed his son had been so pathetic.

Creed got out of the car, now dripping with blood. He’d slashed the girl down to ribbons and feasted on her liver, the best part of the kill. He had parked in a deserted dockside alley and had total privacy. He stripped down leisurely, taking a moment to savor the smell of the blood soaked into his clothes. His mind was calmer now, his destructive urges sated for the time being. He opened the trunk of his car and found a set of fresh clothes and a large plastic bottle of water with some travel wipes he could use to clean up a little. He never allowed himself to be unprepared for anything.

He cleaned up and changed clothes and reapplied his guns, donning a long coat of light material over himself. He set the timer on a small explosive device in the trunk and walked off, carrying a small black duffle bag.

To read more click here : http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2608701/1/Shattered

 

[squeekness]

He hadn’t walked off far when he smelled Razel pop up behind him. He turned and regarded Jael’s teleporter with disdain. “Yer early.”

“Something’s come up.”

Creed looked past him to the car. “Well, let’s go, then. That car’s rigged ta blow in ten minutes.”

Razel turned and looked at it nervously. “Um, sure. Whatever.”

Razel lay his hand on Creed’s shoulder, trying to hide his disgust for this man. He had to touch his passengers for transport. He could see traces of blood that Creed’s quick wash up job had missed. He knew all about Sabretooth’s appetite for destruction and his sexual deviancies. He had no doubt there was a dead body in that car. His only curiosity was whether it was a woman or a man. Creed was known to apply his torturous touch to either gender. He was driven by an insatiable thirst for blood and didn’t discriminate.

Razel closed his eyes and worked his magic, transporting himself and his cargo down to Jael’s lair. This was the only method Jael allowed for visitors. No one but his personal crew knew where this den was actually located.

Creed pulled away from Razel’s touch, suppressing an urge to shred this one. He never liked Razel, he walked around with an air of disgust for everyone but his Master. Jael was very powerful and Creed didn’t dare touch any of his personal guards. Sabretooth wasn’t afraid of many men, but Jael was up there on the top of the list. He couldn’t explain it, but there was some kind of powerful mystery at work around the man. Creed put up with it because Jael paid very, very well.

He followed Razel down the stone corridors, and like Remy before him, recalled the tunnels of the Morlocks. Now that had been a grand adventure, the hunting plentiful. Creed and the small band of Marauders had slaughtered close to three hundred that day, fun and games to be had for all. Of course for Creed, the most pleasurable moment had been the look on that poor Cajun thief’s face when he saw what was going down. How Creed had laughed then, watching Remy’s soul shatter for all time. The feeble little boy had tried to stop them and Creed ripped him open, watching his blood spill out over those fine leather boots. He’d licked his claws, tasting the spice of Remy’s blood and finding it good. If he hadn’t been on the job, he might have caught the boy and feasted on his liver as well, but he didn’t get the chance.

He wasn’t disappointed to later learn Gambit had survived, it only meant they would meet again and meet they did. Creed had been partly responsible for laying down the seeds of distrust when he acknowledged to the X-men the two had met before.

Logan’s eyes had squinted, knowing that Creed was scum. For these two to have met before could only mean trouble. No one knew just how much and Creed didn’t offer details, letting the pot simmer. When the word later came out of Remy’s being booted out of the X-men, Creed made sure the mutant community knew why. Now Gambit couldn’t walk among the various factions without being recognized and shunned as a pariah. He was worse than the killers themselves to some. Gambit’s only decent company was among the norms who had no clue who he was. How Creed would laugh and laugh every time he skulked in the shadows, watching and smelling Remy’s heart break when he was taunted and pushed around. The gift that kept on giving.

Sabretooth paused in his travel and cocked his head as he heard a strange squealing noise and a bizarre white winged creature barreled down the hall and slammed into him. He was surprised to see a tiny female pilot. She had been safely transported from Cerise and was now scampering naked and loose through Jael’s cavern like halls without a care. Sabretooth was tall and sturdy, a human brick wall. The tiny pilot collided into him with all the damage to herself, not moving him back an inch. She fell back on her ass, startled, and chirped up at him an a daze. He scowled at her irritably and growled deep and low in his chest, a sure sign of his anger. She quailed, trembling and urinating all over herself in fear. This was no bright eyed, self aware pilot as Fallen was. This one was little more than a human dog and cowered in terror, whimpering.

“Kialay, where are you, damnit?!” shouted her handler, a small young man who followed her swiftly. He paused in fear when he saw Creed, a man who’s reputation was known far and wide. “Oh, excuse me!”

“What the f--k is that?” Sabretooth growled, pointing a clawed finger at the pilot. She looked vaguely like Kimble but not quite. She was bleached out and tiny, only half of Kimble’s size. She certainly didn’t possess a Mark or Kimble’s ability to articulate clearly.

“Just one of Jael’s pets. She got loose.”

“Well, get this piece of sh-t out of my way!”

“Yes, sir!” The man snatched at the tiny, helpless pilot and hauled her away. She followed him meekly, her eyes straying back to Creed’s face as if she didn’t trust him not to follow her and hunt her down.

Creed looked back at Razel. “Yer boss’s got a taste fer the strange, that’s a fact.”
Razel snorted impatiently, but said nothing, gesturing for Creed to continue down the hall.

Sabretooth strolled into Jael’s large meeting room and eased down onto the fur in front of the big wooden chair. He would not kneel, he would die first, but sat comfortably, folding his large legs under him.

“You look well,” Jael said, looking down on him from the high chair. “Razel tells me you hunted and fed this morning.”

Creed hid his surprise. Razel had been with him the whole time. He had no idea the man was telepathic as well. Either way, his sexual adventures were none of Jael’s affair. “What do ya want, Jael?”

“You know what I want. You haven’t delivered.”

“Yer boy got slagged. He’s toast.”

Instead of the argument and criticism Sabretooth expected, Jael reached to a stack of papers beside him. He pulled out some photographs and tossed them over. Creed picked them up and saw images of Kyle Franks landing down on Bishop’s penthouse patio with Kimble.

“Those were taken yesterday. It seems ‘my boy’ is more resilient than you realized. I want him picked up.”

Creed couldn’t hide his surprise. “I saw this guy get melted.”

“Indeed. I told you was special.”

“Is he even human?”

“Does it matter?” Jael countered evasively.

“Not really,” Creed said with a careless toss of his head. He had no further curiosity in the matter, he just wanted the money. He rose, leaving the photos behind. He was familiar enough with Cameron Bishop’s territory not to need them. “I’ll get right on it.”

“Don’t be so eager to leave, my friend. I’m not finished with you yet.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I am a forgiving man and I realize that you probably are not to blame, so I’ll let you make it up to me.”

“Oh, yeah? How?”

“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Jael purred, his cat’s eyes glinting. “It would seem that Terrel Jacobs, your son’s successor, has rented Yankee Stadium. One year from now, on a Sunday. Whatever for, do you think?”

“Friends of Humanity Rally. Couldn’t be anything else.”

Terrel had succeeded where Greydon Creed had failed. He’d been able to present this terrorist group as some kind of freedom force and was able to promote their beliefs, not unlike the Ku Klux Klan had been able to do. He drew upon the freedom of speech and right to assembly rights under the Constitution and was able to hold these rallies to gain followers. Nothing as large as this of course, but the fellow was obviously using Jael’s recent terrorist attacks as a platform and was building strength.

“I suppose I should feel guilty the little twerp is using me to feed his followers but I’m not about to let him stop my work. If something...large and destructive....were to happen at this Rally. Well, my gratitude would reach new heights,” Jael said suggestively.

Creed laughed and blessed his luck. This would be an easy job, especially with so much advance notice. He already knew the best way to pull this job. Cloaks and mules and bombs. What a treat. Perhaps a small nuke? He might get his wish after all.

“I can see you are pleased. Very good. Give me a plan and I’ll finance it if it’s decent enough.”

Sabretooth’s grin broadened. Was today his birthday? It sure felt like it.

To be continued in The Freedom Kings. http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2618359/1/The_Three_of_Me

 

[squeekness]

(One)

Kimble woke to his first day as an official member of the Freedom Kings to find himself in a bit of a scramble. He had been told to report to classes and he just wasn’t used to the idea of a schedule. He was late getting up and had to rush. Gail got him moving, teasing him at every step, and escorted him down to the classroom. He laughed, playful now with her, and making her smile. He was disappointed when she told him she wasn’t joining him, this was a beginner’s class. She saw his frown and promised to come get him after, happy to see he wanted to spend time with her. In spite of her seniority, she didn’t have many friends. They would have lunch and talk some more.

Kimble nervously entered the classroom and found a seat. He was late in spite of rushing to get here and shuffled to the back of the room with his head low. He was uncomfortable because he didn’t know anyone here. He was the only one without a uniform either, all the members of the Freedom Kings were supposed to dress the same here. It was designed to promote uniformity and do away with distinctions of class or ranking. Only the team leaders had distinguishing marks such as an arm band with a large golden crown stitched onto it.

The teacher waited until Kimble had found his seat and then introduced him to the class. Kimble smiled at the others shyly and they laughed at him, trying to put him at ease. He felt better in the beginning and not so awkward, but it wasn’t long before he found his attention span waning and he began to daydream a little.

This was called a history class, but it soon became clear to Kimble that this was more political than factual. Almost immediately, the students were given stories of how the normal humans hated them and wanted them gone. Attacks were documented and examples of murders and horrific crimes were displayed. Graphic pictures of the Holocaust were shown as an example of that horror made as proof of a mutant’s need to be on the alert. It made Kimble queasy and uncomfortable so all those pictures. First of all, he wasn’t a mutant and none of this sort of thing had ever been directed at him. He didn’t think it applied to him and so couldn’t take it that seriously.

He found himself drifting off. He thought of his brief encounter at the Club in the Purple Room and shivered from a surge of renewed arousal. He smiled and fantasized about a nice warm pleasure room filled with eager clients. His mind embraced the dream eagerly and he was somewhere else.

You gots to pay attention! Zander complained to him. Sooner or later theys gonna gits around ta sayin’ sumpthin’ useful!

I doubt that, Kimble countered, speaking inside of himself.

I don’ likes the pictures. They’re scary, Lakotashay whined.

Kimble blocked out the lesson, wanting to hear no more terrible stories of murder and death.. His eyes drooped and he dozed lightly, dreaming once more of clients. He couldn’t wait to get back to the Club and feel them writhing around him in ecstacy. He never noticed as the teacher stopped speaking and walked over to him. He startled as he was roughly grabbed.

“Inattention!” the teacher snapped. “That is how the norms control us! They make us think it’s safe and then BAM! Out come the guns and fences! We must be ready for them!”

Kimble startled loudly and then cowered in shame as he realized he’d just been made an example of in front of the whole class. They were all looking at him in amusement and he was humiliated as the teacher glared at him and walked away.

“The danger is all around us. This is why we must train. This is why we must always be ready. They will never take us without a fight!”

Kimble was quiet and tried to pay attention as the class continued but it was just the same old rhetoric over and over. He learned his lesson and tried to stay awake or at least make it look like he was interested. When the class was over, he couldn’t get out fast enough. He tried to ignore the dirty look the teacher gave him on the way out. Out in the hall, Kimble took a deep breath and felt nothing but relief. He took out the paper Gail had given him that had his schedule on it. His next class was in the gym and was a class for telekinetics given by Kyle. At least this one should be interesting.

He made his way to the gym easily enough and found his class. Again he was late and had to sit in the back. Kyle gave him the same look as the last teacher had and Kimble kept his eyes down. Clearly being on time was a must around here and he would have to learn to deal with it. Kimble had been offered the school at Xavier’s, he could only guess it would have been the same for him then, so he made a promise to himself to try harder.

This class was small, it had only ten students, and Kyle was teaching them about how to make telekinetic shields. He explained about all the different kinds and how they should be used. Kimble was fascinated as Kyle displayed his power. Kyle showed how the thickness of shields could be toyed with depending on their use and even displayed how a paper thin shield could be used as a protective barrier against injury from being scraped or cut from abrasive materials. It would be light and not cumbersome yet quite strong if the wielder had the strength to form it properly. This would only come over time and repeated practice. To prove his point, they were all invited to try and do this so they would understand just how difficult this was to do.

Now this is more like it! Zander crowed, happy now. He was overjoyed to finally be doing some real work for a change. Kimble relaxed and zoned out a little, letting Zander take over without really thinking about it. Kimble was only dimly aware of what he was doing, it just happened. One minute he was out on the floor, the next, he felt a kind of strange duality as Zander controlled his hands and guided his power with relative skill considering it was new to them both. It should have frightened Kimble, this sense of losing control, but instead it was very comfortable. It felt right. Zander was interested in this and Kimble just let his spirit flow.

Kyle came over, impressed with what Zander had done, Zander learned as quickly as Kimble did and was making rapid progress just from observing Kyle and the others here. Kyle nodded with approval and praised, “Very nice. You’ve done this before?”

“Not really. We jus’ takes on real fast,” Zander answered out loud, startling Kyle with his gruff, gravely voice. Now that Kimble had let go a little, Zander had been emboldened to push his position and was rewarded with a moment of complete control. He was pleased to see that he now had more freedom than he had before Kimble had been melted. It seemed as though Kimble wasn’t the only one effected by the changes the plasma overload had wrought, and Zander wondered now just how much control he could take. He was patient and learned fast so he was determined to find out his limits. Maybe Kimble wanted to wuss out on learning his powers, but Zander wouldn’t be satisfied until he consumed everything Kyle had to teach him.

Kyle paused, taken off guard by what just happened. He’d had a long talk with Cameron last night and wasn’t happy about what he’d been told. Somehow Joshua knew all about Kimble’s fractured psyche and he and Cameron were all over it. They told him not to be afraid if Kimble spoke in voices. He was to just stand by and train Kimble, just accept this without question. When he protested, he was told he would understand the longer he spent time with his new charge. It was like a game or something. Kyle was not amused. His complaints were ignored.

“Kimble?” Kyle asked now, nervous. He wasn’t quite sure who he was talking to and it was very unnerving.

“What?” the Lover responded, a little dreamy. It was like he had just woken up. He didn’t realize Zander had just stolen a moment from him. Zander’s possession left him a little out of sorts, Kimble thought Zander had spoken from inside and that only he had heard it.

“You okay?”

Kimble created a small shield and broke it into pieces, showing off a little. “Shure.”
Kyle crouched down next to him, blocking Kimble’s trick from view, and used his power to meld the shards back into place. He was startled to see the spikes, he hadn’t seen Kimble do this during the fight outside the bar. Funny, that would have been his first form of defense. Apparently it wasn’t Kimble’s or perhaps it was just a sign of Kimble’s lack of training. Either way, Kyle was still impressed. This was a skill only the elite of the telekinetics possessed, it had taken him years to learn it himself.

“Don’t show this to the others,” he whispered. “They can’t do this. They’ll be jealous.”

“How else we gonna learn?” Zander asked.

This time Kimble was a little puzzled himself at Zander’s voice. He didn’t know where it had come from. It must have come from inside, not out of his own mouth. Yes, that’s what it was. “How else am I gonna learn?” he repeated, believing now he must have imagined Zander’s voice.

Kyle wasn’t so easily fooled. He didn’t like it, but he answered. “I’ll set up something private for you and me.”

The Lover smiled up at him with his dreamy, wistful eyes, happy for the offer of company. “Kin ya teach me ta fly? I liked it when we wuz up in the sky. It wuz fun, you an’ me.”

Kyle smiled awkwardly. The way Kimble had spoken, it was as if he’d been invited to have sex. He tried to ignore it, dismissing it as a sign he was tired or something. “Yes, I’ll teach you to fly. But you have to pay attention and do as you are told. You could be injured.”

“All right. When we gonna practice?”

“I don’t know. I’ll get back to you after lunch. Until then, I want you just to work on those things I give the class. Nothing else, okay?”

“All right.”

To read more, click here: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2618359/1/The_Three_of_Me

 

[squeekness]

Kimble had lunch with Gail and enjoyed her company once more. He noticed how no one else sat with them and sometimes the others would whisper mean things about ugly Gail behind her back. They thought she was hideous looking and unfeminine. The Freedom Kings were a tight bunch, but since their focus was not on equality between races, they did not receive the same amount of compassion training as the X-men did. She pretended not to notice, but he could see from her shine she was angry and it made him sad. He promised himself he would spend as much time with her as he could, he didn’t want her to think no one cared.

Leon came by as they were eating and tossed Kimble a tiny ball of plasma. He was in a rush and didn’t have time to stay and talk. It was a small dose, just enough for Kimble to get buzzed, but not to pass out. Kimble had learned quickly that the plasma had its advantages. It made him high which he was growing to like, but it also lasted longer than the Ristle had. He didn’t need to charge as often.

While Kimble and Gail finished their lunch, a group of kids passed them by, walking slowly by and staring at Kimble. They were talking about him softly and at first Kimble was flattered, but then he heard one of them say ShaRain with reverence and smile at him. It creeped him out, he liked attention as much any Siskan, but not like that. He had no wish to be worshiped unless it was inside a pleasure room.

After lunch, Kimble went to another class. This one was given by Michael. Michael was tall and sturdy, a jock with an affinity for guns and blowing things up. His mutant ability was not only a natural invulnerability, but also the power to phase through solid objects. Unlike Kimble, he could also phase whatever he carried with him, giving him the advantage of stealth. This class was not about phasing, it was about the use of guns. Michael stood proudly in front of a rack of guns any NRA guy would drool over, explaining what each one was and what it was best used for. The students were taught how to assemble and clean the weapons and their care. All types of guns were discussed, including rocket launchers and Tasers.

Again Kimble was turned off by all the talk of violence. These weapons had only one purpose – deadly mayhem -- and he wanted no part of it. He had no need for guns. Zander was curious, but he wasn’t really into it. He was more concerned about their own power and weapons, not these. Kimble drifted off again in his seat, not paying attention and was happy that it ended quickly.

After the weapons class, Kimble was supposed to go to yet another training session, but instead he snuck off. He didn’t want to listen to any more stupid crap about hate and fear. He found a quiet alcove with an open window and sat there, just breathing in the smells of the outside world. It wasn’t as nice as the fresh Mansion air, it was city air and he found himself missing Remy. He hadn’t been given a chance to call home as promised. This was a big place but there weren’t any phones anywhere.
Never having been away from the Mansion before like this, he didn’t realize just how significant that was. He was essentially trapped and cut off from the outside world.

Eventually, Gail came and found him. She stood behind him, her hands on her hips and smiling at him impatiently. “What are you doing over here by yourself? We were all worried about you.” Her face was irritated, but her eyes merry. It just wasn’t possible for her to be angry with him and he knew it.

He smiled up at her, happy he now had some company. “Don’ like yer classes much. Alls they talks about is hatin’ an’ people dyin’. It makes me sad an’ I jus’ don’ wants ta hear about it no more.”

Gail came closer and sat down in front of him at the window. “What they say is true though. The norms do hate us.”

“Fallen says that not alla them feels that way. The Professor says we kin all helps each other.”

“No one was helping me,” she replied. “When my parents saw what I was, they kicked me out of the house. I had nowhere to go. I had to scrounge for food on the street. No one would help me, people chased me down and beat me up if I wasn’t fast enough to get away. Kyle found me and brought me here. He taught me how to fight and protect myself. This is the only place where I can walk around being me. Out there I have to hide.”

“Cain’t ya make yerself look different? The Professor had a machine that kin hide what ya look like,” Kimble said, thinking of the image inducers he’d seen in Henry’s lab.

“I don’t want to look different. This is how and who I am. Why should I hide?”

“Sorry,” Kimble apologized when he heard the sharpness of her voice. “I likes ya jus’ fine, baby doll. I didn’ mean nuthin’ by that.”

He felt sorry that he might have hurt her feelings so he tried to touch her face, but she blocked him with a raised hand. “You can’t touch me. My scales will hurt you.”

“I don’ care,” he protested, meaning it. All he wanted was for her to feel better.

“I do. Why don’t you come have some supper with me. We’ll go back to our room after and watch some TV. Just relax, okay?”

“All right.”

She took his hand and led him away to the cafeteria. She made him eat a little, showing him the best things to try. He was warmed by her friendship and desire to be near him and he was soon laughing and his old self again. They joked around at the table and made a mess with a little food fight, having a grand time. She taught him fun things like blowing bubbles in your milk carton with a straw and other essentials like mashed potato sculptures. He was soon dizzy from laughing so hard and she was pleased. He was no longer sad or lost here.

She cleaned up after them and brought him back to their room where she gave him a quick education on the wonders of television. He’d seen none of this at the Mansion, most of the folks there were simply too busy to watch for pleasure. Gail turned on some cartoons and he was enraptured by what he saw, squealing with laughter and soon forgot his troubles.

Gail just sat back with a smile, their roles reversed with her happy now she’d made him feel better. The more time she spent with Kimble, the better he made her feel as well. She was growing quite fond of her roommate and hoped he stayed with her.

To read more, click here: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2618359/1/The_Three_of_Me

 

[squeekness]

(Two)

A short while later, Kyle came to Kimble’s room. He brought some new uniforms for Kimble to wear, much to the pilot’s relief. Kimble wasn’t the only one to join the Freedom Kings who’d had crooked cat’s legs and some decent pants were found. Kyle wanted to speak with him privately and so dragged him off to talk. Gail promised to wait for him so they could talk some more when he returned.

Kyle took Kimble to his private quarters. His room was small and hardly lived in since he spent most of his time in his aeries, not here. He sat the reluctant pilot down and asked, “Where did you go this afternoon? I was worried about you.”

Kimble wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I didn’t like yer classes. I don’ like the pictures of alla the dead people, they make me feels sick. An’ why you gots ta teach me about guns and stuff? I don’ wants ta hurts nobody.”

Kyle was nervous about Kimble’s response. He just didn’t see how Cameron could be so sure that Kimble would make a good weapon, not with an attitude like this. “This isn’t about hurting anyone, this is self preservation. We have to be ready.”

“Them norms ain’t gonna come marchin’ in here,” Kimble protested with all the innocence of a child. He had limited experience out in the world and his mind which always tried to look for the best in people, just couldn’t picture this.

“That’s very naive. The Friends of Humanity are calling for control camps and extermination of all mutants. That can’t be allowed to happen.”

“It’s got nuthin’ ta do with me.”

“That’s denial talking. I know you don’t regard yourself as a mutant, but the fact is, if you went out on those streets right now, that‘s all people will see when they look at you. They won’t bother to see the good and kind Kimble I’ve come to know. They’ll call you a freak and try and hurt you. They’ll drag you off to some camp and stick a number on your forehead. I don’t know if they can kill you or not since you’re not organically alive, but it won’t matter. They’ll just use you to haul the bodies of the dead ones away...” Kyle was forced to pause when Kimble suddenly turned away in horror and gripped his stomach. The pictures he had seen that morning were still too fresh in Kimble’s mind.

“It won’ happin...it cain’t. Folks jus’ ain’t that bad!” Kimble complained, trying to hold onto this idea of people being inherently good. It was true most of the ones he’d met were not bad, especially the ones that had nothing to do with the Clan.

“Sure they are. Those pictures you saw this morning were the real deal, Kim. The Nazis came in and saw a bunch of people they didn’t like and wiped them out. These were normal looking people, not freaks like us. They just felt a little differently about God and that was enough for their destruction.”

Kimble rubbed his aching stomach, he didn’t want to talk about this anymore. He shook his head and asked, “What’s all this stuff about me bein’ some kind of Guardian? I heard some of the kids talkin’ about it behind my back. They looks at me funny.”

“The ShaRain is a special Guardian with powers who will come and help protect us. Joshua has visions and he claims he knows what the ShaRain looks like and what he can do to help us. Based on what he said, Cameron thinks it’s you. He told some of the other students here so they could help you settle in more easily.”

Kimble snorted. “That ain’t me. I ain’t no protector. I’m just a guy waitin’ on some angel, that’s all. I wuz made ta make people happy. Make ‘em feel good an’ shiver all over, not learn how ta make guns an’ all. I don’ wanna hurt nobody.”

“No one’s asking you to hurt anyone. This is about protecting us. In order to know how to protect, you have to know how the enemy thinks. You might lose your powers someday. You have to know how to fight on your own.”

“But I ain’t gots no enemies!” Kimble continued to protest.

Kyle was experienced enough to twist Kimble’s protest into something he could use. He had seen quickly that while Kimble might not know how to fight, he knew a thing or two about loyalty. Of course he did, he was the Lover. “You’re part of a team now, Kim. We work together. If someone came in here right now, wouldn’t you want to help us?”

“I guess so,” Kimble replied, softer now. Kyle’s ploy had worked, he had used language the Lover could understand. Kimble might not like to fight, but he could when those he loved were threatened.

“That is why you have to train.”

Kimble nodded at that, seeing Kyle’s point and conceding. “What abouts flyin’?”

“I’ll work with you tomorrow. I can see the classes might have been too much for you. After lunch, you and I will have a session. If I do that, do you promise to try harder?”

“All right.” Kimble paced restlessly. His bellyache had subsided, but not his worry. The Lover was still loyal to those he loved and he asked, “Kin I use a phone now? I wants ta call home. Maybe if ya gots one of them books with the numbers in it, I kin finds it.” He had seen Henry use a phonebook back at the Mansion.

“You seem especially anxious. Is there someone in particular you want to talk to?” Kyle asked, stalling. He was still under orders not to let Kimble call out, the last thing Cameron wanted was the X-men barreling in here and stealing his precious find away.

“I wants ta talk ta Remy.”

“Tell me about him.”

Kimble smiled with affection as he thought about his good friend. “He’s a thief. They calls him Gambit.”

Kyle’s eyes opened wide. “Gambit is your friend? That’s a joke if I ever heard one.”

“What do ya mean?”

“He’s nothing but a cold hearted killer.”

Kyle did not know Gambit personally, very few people did. Remy had come to the X-men well after Kyle left. Gambit’s exploits were the stuff of legend now, boogy man stories passed around from mutant to mutant by those who knew nothing about him. His reputation simply preceded him and he was regarded as a pariah or monster because of the slaughter. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t killed a single Morlock, bringing the killers themselves down there was just as bad.

“He ain’t no killer!” Kimble protested vigorously. “He’s good an’ kind’ an’ wuz the only one nice ta me there.”

“He’s a killer, son. Didn’t anyone tell you what he did?”

Kimble grew angry and felt a restless stirring inside of him. Zander had been aroused by his wrath and was milling about, jerking on his chains. Kimble fisted his hands. “That wuz an’ accident! He didn’ know what wuz gonna happen!”

Kyle wasn’t fazed by Kimble’s outburst. This was something he could use to distract Kimble from trying to use the phone. “He brought Sabretooth down there into the tunnels. Now, there’s only one thing that guy does. He kills. There is no way your little buddy there didn’t know what was going to happen.”

“He wuz just a kid!” Kimble growled, his voice going deeper as he refused to back down.

Kyle just smiled at him, not quite afraid of the Punisher just yet. “Did he ever tell you why he did it? What Sinister gave him to make him go?”

Kimble paused. “No. He jus’ said it wuzn’t fer money.”

“Really? Than what was it, hmm? What could a freak like Sinister possibly have to offer him that he would want besides money? The guy was a sicko doctor, a geneticist.”

Kimble shrugged. “I dunno....but Remy ain’t about money. He don’ run around with nice stuff. He gots the smallest room in the place an’ there ain’t hardly nuthin’ in it.”

“I’ll just bet he’s got other places besides there. I do.”

Kimble couldn’t argue with Kyle’s well said point. Gambit had taken him to an apartment he suspected no one else had known about. Maybe he had other things hidden away, too. Kimble turned away, not wanting to talk about this anymore. “That still don’ makes him not my friend.”

“Maybe. But what kind of friends lie to each other?”

Kimble was silent. He felt sick and just wanted to go away and do something else, just the way Kyle had wanted to make him feel. He turned away and walked to the door, trying to run from this unpleasant conversation, but Kyle stopped him with a gentle hand. “Wait, Kim. Don’t walk away mad. I didn’t mean to upset you. Let’s go down to the bar and have a drink? Gail will wait up for you.”

Kimble nodded, still not happy, but happy enough to have a drink. He didn’t like the idea that Remy might have lied to him and used him, his heart simply could not agree with what Kyle had told him and he was sullen and angry. He was silent as they walked down to the bar and he sat on his stool, brooding.

The music was loud and Kyle was distracted by some of the dancers. There were always pretty girls here and he couldn’t help but look them over. It kept his mind off his situation. He was relieved he had gotten Kimble away from the idea of a phone call and was happy now that it was over with. He had never agreed with the policy of isolating newcomers, but dealt with it as part of his job. He had done his duty now and wasn’t aware of how upset Kimble was by his words.

The pilot had ordered a Rum and Coke and looked down in the swirling dark liquid of his glass. “Remy wouldn’t hurts me,” he spoke softly to himself. Of course he was never really alone, not anymore.

Zander put in his two cents worth. He used Kimble’s mouth to say, “Toldja that boy wuz no good fer you. Just fergits him. We gots work ta do anaways.”

“I liked his hands on me,” Lakotashay replied out loud as well, saying something positive for once. “He made me think of father.”

Kyle turned away from the dancers and saw Kimble with his head down, muttering to himself. “Hey, you okay?”

Kimble wouldn’t look at him. He was becoming blind to these new audible exchanges and wasn’t paying attention to anything else around him. He rubbed his hand on his cheek in a gentle caress, closing his eyes. “I liked it, too. He wuzn’t ever mean ta me. Not even once.”

“What about that time he yelled atcha, huh? He wuzn’t so nice then,” Zander complained.

“That’s cuz I wuz touchin’ his girl.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe ya jus’ saw how he really wuz.”

“No. He wuz nice ta us!” Lakotashay insisted sharply.

Kimble's little impromptu conversation was loud enough for Kyle to hear. He put a hand on Kimble’s shoulder. “Hey, Kim. Chill out, okay? I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Kimble sniffed and looked up at him, breaking away from his now outer and not so inner selves. “I’m all right.”

“No you’re not. You’re sitting here talking to yourself. What can I do to make you feel better?”

The pilot shrugged and wouldn’t look up at him. He was miserable now and cloudy, thinking maybe coming here was a mistake. He wanted to explore this world and his powers, but wasn’t happy with anything that spoiled his good moods. He felt a twinge of fear that he would fare no better here than he had with the X-men.

Kyle sensed his foul mood and offered, “You want to go to the Club? You seemed to like that Purple Room all right.”

Kimble turned to him then and Lakotashay boldly spoke in her child like voice. “I wants ta feel a man’s hands on me. I wants it ta be like it wuz with our father.”

Kyle shivered as gooseflesh broke out over his arms. The voice of that young child was so eerie coming out of the grown man’s body. He was never going to be used to this, no matter how many times he heard it. Cameron was cracked if he thought Kimble was going to be up to the task he had designated for him. Kyle felt sick to his stomach, but he said, “C’mon.”

He stood and took Kimble’s hand, leading him down the same hallway Melany had taken him before. This time he stopped in front of an orange door that had a marking on it different from the one Kimble had gone to before. “You’ll find what you want here. Just remember you’ve promised to go to class tomorrow. Don’t be too long.”

Kimble nodded without speaking and entered. He walked down a short hallway before he found the doorway to the actual room itself. This new room was much larger than the Purple Room and not set up the same way. It was different in that it was more private. It wasn’t all open, it was divided up into a bar and a row cubicles. The doors all had numbers on them and small notices to indicate if they were currently empty or being used. Privacy here was guaranteed. A small group of men lounged near another bar, waiting. Heads turned in Kimble’s direction when he entered and one of the men turned around and smiled at him.

Kimble looked them over, but he wasn’t quite himself. Lakotashay had seen what Zander had done about taking some control and she did it now. She walked with Kimble closer to the men and took over the body. It was easier than she thought and it felt natural, like she should be the one here all the time. She loosed her hair and let it fall free about her shoulders. Her masculine posture changed and she walked with more grace, turning more heads in her direction.

Kimble wasn’t asleep, he was aware of what she was doing and didn’t mind. He found he actually enjoyed this sense of duality, it was almost like he had his girl skin again. This would be the closest he would ever get to having it and so was pleased. He relaxed happily and let her do as she wished.

She prowled along the bar, waiting for someone to reach out to her. It didn’t take long.

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[squeekness]

Kyle walked into Cameron’s office, doing a good Kimble imitation as he muttered with himself. He wasn’t the least bit happy about his last conversation with Kimble, he was worried. Cameron was there in the office with Leon and they were both watching Kimble on the monitor. Cameron turned to him. “Nice work. You did that quite well.”

“Did what? Break his heart? He’s not right, Cam, and I don’t want any part of this anymore.”

“He just needs some guidance that’s all. He won’t be calling home now.”

“Ewww!” Leon complained. He was watching Lakotashay on the screen and she had just kissed her date and was walking off with him to a cubicle. When the camera perspective changed to the room itself, he turned his head away. He had no way of knowing that someone other than Kimble was actually at the helm but it probably wouldn’t have mattered. His views on men and sex had been badly damaged. He turned to Cameron and said, “Kyle’s right. Kimble ain’t right in the head. Why do you have that stupid room anyways, Cam? It ain’t right what they do in there!”

“Boys, please. Kimble is just different, that’s all. And you, Leon, you must be tolerant. Love comes in many forms.”

“Well, he just better stay away from me with that crap,” Leon grumbled and put his head down. He would never believe that homosexual men could love, not after what had been done to him. It just wasn’t possible.

Lakotashay had undressed her client and went down on her knees in front of him. Leon peeked, he couldn’t help himself. His eyes opened wide when he saw what the pilot did next. He stood up and fisted his hands. “Oh, I don’t think so! Look at what he’s doing! How long before he takes it in the ass!”

Cameron just smiled and could help himself from saying, “Oh, I’d say in about ten minutes or so from the look on Paul’s face.” He had recognized the man who had chosen ‘Shay to please him.

“I won’t feed him! It! Whatever it is! It ain’t natural!” Leon howled. His face had flushed and he fists glowed faintly orange with the urge to fight.

“Leon, please! Control yourself! I understand you have a problem with this, but we can’t let it interfere with our goal! Move away from the screens if you can’t keep quiet!” Cameron said impatiently.

“How can you say that thing is going to protect us, Cam! C’mon!”

“He’s not a thing, he’s a computer program. He’s not even real like you and me. He’s a pleasure program and only obeying the designs of his programming. If it helps you, thinks about him that way. He’s a program and we are going to work on him, change him into what we need. He’s going to be trained and you will leave him alone, Leon. Your job is to feed him, nothing more. If he approaches you in a manner you don’t like, we’ll deal with it, but I don’t think it will happen.”

“You seem to know a lot of things you’re not telling us and I don’t like it,” Kyle said, complaining himself as he crossed his arms. “Why don’t you save us all some time and tell us everything.”

“Joshua doesn’t tell me everything at once,” Cameron lied smoothly. “Sometimes he speaks in riddles and it doesn’t all make sense until it happens. Be patient. Until then, keep an eye on him and keep him away from a phone. I want him in class and working hard.”

“And if he resists?” Kyle asked.”He’s skipped one class already because he couldn’t handle the topic of violence and he just got here.”

“Then we’ll find a way to deal with him. Everyone has weaknesses. I’m sure he does as well.”

Kyle shook his head. “And the voices?”

“So he’s got more than one person rattling around in there? Maybe if we get to know them, we might find one more suitable than Kimble for what we need.”

Kyle blinked in surprise at that twisted bit of logic. “Excuse me?”

“Talk to him. Get to know him better,” Cameron said, ignoring Kyle’s startled response. “Help him settle in. He wants to learn how to fly? Good. Work on that. Make him happy. He will become one of us, you will see to it. Both of you.”

Kyle and Leon exchanged glances. They would never be fond of one another, but it looked like they were stuck in the same boat. Cameron was a wise man and so far hadn’t led them astray — that they knew of anyway. They would do this thing and hope for the best.

Kyle grunted and walked out, heading back to the bar and another drink. He had a quick drink and left, coming into the hall just as Kimble came walking out of the Orange Room. The Siskan’s eyes were glassy and he looked stoned. At the very least, he was well pleased with himself. He said nothing to Kyle but walked off in the direction of his room, his stride and body attitude still feminine and lithe. Kyle shook his head, not wanting to accept this. This was a mistake and was going to end badly, he just knew it.

To read more, click here: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2618359/1/The_Three_of_Me

 

[squeekness]

(Three)

Remy sat on the roof of the building opposite Cameron’s little hideout. He’d been lumped with Logan and Fallen on this spy shift. They each took turns watching in twenty minute intervals. He was using his down time to take a quick peek through Kimble’s notebook. In it, Kimble had scrawled down brief notes about his near death experience. He had seen his creator, Sheyman, in the light. He had wanted so desperately to go into the Light with his former Master, but Sheyman told him he had to go back to the real world. He had a job left to do. An angel was going to come to him and he would know what that job was. In the meantime, he had been charged with learning his powers and building his defensive skills.

Kimble had written about how Zander was pressing him to learn, but at the same time was tormenting him with this girl child ghost. She was always complaining about being in pain and wanted Kimble to kill himself. Kimble thought it was a joke or some kind of stupid game Zander was trying to play. He found no humor in this and was a little put out over it.

Remy closed his eyes and cursed softly. Kimble had already been feeling the effects of a shattered personality, but hadn’t known what it was. He didn’t trust anyone enough to talk about it, not even Remy.

“Somethin’ wrong, Gumbo?” Logan growled. He was on watch and he spoke without turning his head. Fallen had dozed off at his feet and Logan left her alone even though it was already her turn to be looking out. She’d been sullen and quiet and he was more comfortable with her out cold than staring blankly off into space. She had Remy’s trench coat balled up under her head like a pillow.

“Kimble been ‘earin’ de voices and he didn’ even say nuthin’ to me.”

This time Wolverine glanced back at him. Remy’s voice was tired and strained. “How long?”

“Since he come out back on de Dragon. Firs’ he be dreamin’, den ‘e be ‘earin’ dem talkin’ to ‘im. He t’ink Zander been playin’ a game wit ‘im. De voices sometimes say ‘e should kill ‘imself. Dis boy ain’t been right, Wolvie. Not for a long time.” The thought of a suicidal Kimble had Remy’s hands shaking just a little bit. Again, Kimble was on his own with no guidance.

Logan saw Remy’s concern and was quick to say, “Maybe it’s not such a bad idea that the shrink lady come by. Maybe she can help with Kimble when we bring him home.”

Wolverine heard Remy smile. “Got de word she real pretty, dis shrink lady of yours. Gambit’s already ‘earin’ you got an eye for ‘er, man. I ain’t seen dis petite m’self, but I ‘eard Jeannie goin’ on an’ on about it dis mornin’.”

“Yer dreamin’.”

Remy just laughed, knowing from Wolverine’s posture that he’d been right on the mark. He began to sing in a childish voice, “Logan an’ Karen sitttin’ in a tree...K.I.S.S.I.N.G. Firs’ come love, den come marriage, den come all dese mutant babies clawin’ outta deir baby carriage!”

“A--hole,” Logan grumbled good naturedly. He was in too good a mood to let his obnoxious teammate bother him.

Remy snickered, but fell gradually silent as he read through Kimble’s book some more. He read Kimble’s mutterings about his wish for Remy to possess him and be his Master. It made Remy feel sick as much as it broke his heart to feel Kimble’s loneliness. It felt odd to read about someone’s sexual fascination with him, it had never happened before. It was creepy and sad. As much as Kimble tried to explain that this was all a Siskan thing, a part of being a Courtesan, it was still disturbing. Kimble wanted to be owned, he thought it was what love was. Fallen had been his owner and she had abandoned him for Seth, leaving him behind in a sense. This was Kimble’s pain. She had never loved him for real and when he tried to push himself on Remy, he’d been rejected again. Kimble was at a loss and his breaking heart was swallowing him whole.

When he had been sneaking out, he was looking for more than just a good time, Remy realized. All it would have taken was for someone to come up to Kimble and call themselves his Master. Kimble would gone willingly, just to have a place to truly belong. Remy was flooded with guilt and his spirits tanked. He couldn’t even deal with his own problems, how was he supposed to help his new little brother with his?

Gambit knew Cameron Bishop was dangerous. He was familiar with most of the mutant groups as part of his being an infiltrator and spy. Cameron was a master manipulator and con artist. He wasn’t above a little murder or mayhem, just not as bad as Jael or the Brotherhood, another mutant faction run by freaks as violent as Sabretooth. Gambit had stolen from Cameron more than once while looking for information on people under his control. Charles may not have been aware of the extent of Remy’s knowledge of Kimble’s new benefactor, sometimes Charles would just say “Fetch,” and Remy did, not bothering to explain his sources and the Professor didn’t ask.

A while back, Remy had been in Cameron’s penthouse and some of the more private floors of his building. He had gone looking for intelligence. He found what he was looking for, careful to liberate some lonely looking diamonds and gold coins along the way. A tip, yeah. That’s what it was. A fringe benefit. He often gave most of his secret earnings to orphanages in the City under a fake name. It was a Robin Hood kind of thing and another small way Gambit would make up for his crimes. The rest he squirreled away for a rainy day. He was actually quite wealthy but used very little of it, saving it for something, he just didn’t know what. When he finally got around to figuring out what it was he really wanted, the money would be there.

It was getting late and Gambit was running out of sunlight. He had good night vision, but not for reading. He closed the book filled with Kimble’s tortured ramblings and closed his eyes. He was tired and only wanted Kimble home in the worst way. He missed that wayward pilot more than he could say. It was like a part of himself was missing.

He startled when he heard a thump beside him. Rogue had arrived with the next shift. She had come with Warren and another newbie named Thomas. Thomas was a junior telepath and just starting his training. This mission was not high risk so the Professor sent him out just to get some field experience.

Remy stood and stretched, not looking at his ex-lover as he walked past her. He was still bewildered that she hadn’t come back to him. They had separated before, but never for as long as this. She usually took a few days before she got too lonely for him and wanted him back. Most of the time, the breaks were a relief to him. They would generally last just long enough for him to drink himself silly and ****e around with few girls. He would get all of that out of system, that need to actually touch a woman all over, and then they would make up. This time, he figured it was her turn for a little side action and that she would come around eventually. So far it hadn’t happened -- he had fully expected her to grow bored with Manny’s yuppy and sedate manner by now, but he was starting to grow afraid that if she hadn’t by now, she wasn’t going to. It did nothing to help his already falling spirits.

“Night, y’all,” he mumbled and moved away, never seeing the odd way that Warren’s eyes tracked him as he got ready to leave.

Logan saw it well enough and wondered what it was about. For the first time, Angel didn’t look angry at the thief, only puzzled and in some way, sad for him. “Let’s bail,” Wolverine grumbled, giving Fallen a nudge to rouse her so they could get moving.

Fallen groaned and got up stiffly. They had been there all day and she was miserable. She hadn’t been thrilled with Anya’s prediction of Kimble’s possible destruction and was afraid all this was a waste of time. She also missed Seth horribly. Her fears of never touching him again had returned with Kimble’s absence, Kimble was her only direct link with Seth. She said nothing, but kept her eyes down and grabbed Logan and Remy, flying them down to the alley where the Jeep was parked.

To read more, click here: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2618359/1/The_Three_of_Me

 

[caroline]

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[squeekness]

Remy parked his Jeep in the garage of the Mansion and got out quickly, heading up to the house with his head down and not speaking to anyone. Logan watched him go with silent understanding. This whole day had been a waste. They had been there all day and had nothing to show for their time.

“What are we going to do?” Fallen asked softly. She hadn’t even moved from the back seat. There were no words to describe the depth of her devastation and now she was going to have to go back to Seth empty handed. Seth would be crushed as well.

“We eat, get some rest, and go back out in the mornin’. Sooner or later, we’ll find a way ta get a him, even if we have to wait the full two weeks. Anya’s never wrong.” He turned back to look at her tired, strained face. “Don’t you worry, darlin’. Me and the Cajun’ll bring him back home.”

Fallen laughed softly and wiped at her face as she started to cry.

“What?” Logan asked.

“I was just wondering where exactly I lost him, you know? He’s been right in front of me all this time, but he was gone the moment we stepped off the ship. I was a fool to ever bring him here.”

“It’s not yer fault. Yer better off here than back with the Clan. We’ll get Kimble back, it’s just a matter of time, darlin’. Why don’tcha go in and have some supper? I’ll just bet Charlie’s whipped up somethin’ nice fer us.”

They went into the house. Logan was correct in the food department, a nice roast awaited them with some cooked vegetables out of consideration for Fallen. It had gotten around quickly that she wouldn’t eat meat and so accommodations were made. Gambit had made himself a plate and took it up to his room to eat alone, he wasn’t feeling very sociable. Fallen ate quietly with Logan and went down to the ship to sleep, leaving Wolverine on his own.

Logan sat at the kitchen table alone, sipping coffee and smoking quietly. He wasn’t supposed to smoke in the house, but with most of the staff gone from Jael’s disease, there was no one to yell at him for it. He looked behind him when he heard someone coming and was surprised to see Karen. It was getting late and she was dressed in a large flannel nightgown with the prerequisite pink fuzzy slippers. He would never admit this to anyone, but something about an old fashioned flannel nightgown really turned him on. He grinned. Maybe this day wasn’t going to be a total waste after all.

“Hey, darlin’. Didn’t expect to see you still here.”

“The Professor made me an offer I couldn’t refuse,” she said, pouring herself a cup of coffee and sitting down across from him.

“Really?” Wolverine replied, doing his best to keep his excitement out of his voice. Nothing could have pleased him more at that moment.

“Yes. It seems Mason left Molly quite a bit of money, naming Charles as her executor. He said he would pay me full time to stay and work with Molly. I really needed the break from my other job so I jumped on it.”

“What were you doing?”

“I was working with emotionally impaired mutants. I’ve actually been working with Molly for some time. When I first saw her, she couldn’t sign and was totally wild.”

“Where did she come from?”

“Mason took her off of the streets. He was inspecting a building when it suddenly caught fire. She was homeless and living in the basement when it happened. She fled the building, but stopped to save him. In return he gave her a place to stay, but couldn’t get through to her. He knew about me and asked me for help.”

“That’s all ya know about her? That she was homeless?”

She cocked her head at him. “You say that like you have something on your mind.”

“Well, I got some suspicions, but nuthin’ concrete.”

“Spill.”

He grinned, enjoying her directness. “Well, we had a guy here some time back, another feral guy like Molly. He was a real badass with claws. Big guy, blonde hair. He came here looking for help. He thought Charlie could help him not be such a killer and a loser. I knew about him for a long time before that, most of us did, and we weren’t happy about it, but you know Chuck. He takes ‘em all in, no matter what. Of course it was a disaster, just like I said it would be.”

“You’re that much of a smart guy, huh?” she teased.

“Yup,” Logan answered smugly, pleased even more that she was flirting with him. “All hell broke loose, but that ain’t my point. My point is that Henry’s real thorough. He’s got DNA on this guy. I got an idea that there might be a match there fer Molly.”

“Really? And what makes you think that?”

“Well, other than the obvious shi–um, stuff...she’s got the blonde hair and claws. She kinda smells like him.”

“Hmm...Interesting. Maybe I can get Henry to draw some blood from her.”

“It’d be a real good idea ‘cause this guy’s got a real nasty habit of killin’ off his kids. I’ll just bet Molly’s mom was a prostitute that managed to get away from him. He usually slashes up his women.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Well, one of his kids grew up to be Greydon Creed. He came out human but founded a group called Friends of Humanity, a vicious anti-mutant group. When ol’ Saby found about it, he took after Greydon and killed him. He vowed never ta let none of his kids live after that.”

“Saby?”

“Sabretooth. Victor Creed.”

Karen gasped and sat back in her chair. “Sabretooth! Are you saying he’s Molly’s father?”

Logan raised his hand, asking for patience. “Easy, girl. I said maybe. Chances are he don’t know about Molly and that’s good. I just wanna make sure about it before we do anything rash, all right? If he is her dad, than she’s in the right place.” He paused when he saw a look of dumbstruck wonder on her face. “What?”

“Molly’s dreams,” she whispered in a daze, her mind still racing.

“What’re ya talkin’ about?”

Karen fixed him with her eyes and gave him another winning smile that almost took his breath away. “Molly has terrible nightmares. She has since she was small, she says. She dreams about the ‘Lion Man’. He came when she was small, about four years old. He came and killed her mother. She tried to hide in a closet but the Lion Man sniffed her out. He caught her and then slashed her throat. When she told me this, I had always thought it was a metaphor, a child’s way of dealing with a traumatic experience. Now I wonder if this was something that really happened just as she dreams it.”

“Maybe if we showed her some pictures of Creed?”

Karen shook her head. “Not just yet. Maybe when she’s had more time to settle in. I don’t want to upset her while she’s in a new place.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about this Lion Man or Creed gettin’ in here. Me an’ Creed go way back. We useta work together in the military before he finally went over the edge and they couldn’t take him anymore. He’s a nut job ta be sure, but he ain’t gettin’ in here. I saw ta that a long time ago after he left here. This place is real secure. We’ll keep yer Molly safe.”

“As safe as Kimble?” she offered timidly, unsure of how he would react.

Cripes! Logan groaned inside. Why did it always have to come down to that stupid a--hole? “Now we looked after Kimble just fine. It’s not our fault he was sneakin’ off. He was goin’ out, sneakin’ around an’ askin’ fer all kinda trouble.”

“What was he sneaking out for?”

“What else? ****es. Probably lucky he wasn’t down at Barney’s.”

“What’s Barney’s?”

“Local gay bar.” Wolverine didn’t elaborate further.

“You didn’t like him.”

“That obvious, huh? Yeah, well me an’ him had different views on things.”

“Was it because he was bisexual? You seem uncomfortable with homosexuality.”

Logan groaned inside. He should have known better than to sit here with a woman who had a degree in psychology. “I ain’t got a problem with...gays. I have a problem with Kimble.”

“Why?”

“ ‘Cause he ain’t really gay. What he is, is a guy who can’t control his hormones. He don’ discriminate, darlin’. If it’s warm an’ has a hole r’ two, he’s all over it,” Logan said, his irritation making him speak more crudely than he normally would in front of a woman he was interested in. “He was all over the students as soon as he got here and couldn’t control his powers. He didn’t even try actually. He just did as he pleased and when he got in trouble, he couldn’t handle it.”

“He couldn’t handle it, or you couldn’t handle him?”

Logan stood quickly, his anger surging. He stood there bristling for a moment, then swallowed it. He laughed a little and looked at her with ice cold eyes. “You don’ wanna be foolin’ round inside of my head, girlie. Maybe you got an idea that you can come in here and psychoanalyze me, but yer dead wrong. Better folks than you have tried and it didn’t work out so well fer them. Best be real careful.”

She just smiled up at him, not the least bit afraid of his show of macho dominance and posturing. “I can see you have a problem discussing personal matters.”

“Got it in one, such a smart little girl,” Logan sneered arrogantly, no longer interested in pursuing someone who wanted to get that involved with his mind. Way too many locked doors best left that way.

Karen stood, meeting him at eye level. She stared him down, not willing to let him see her fear. He was very intimidating all tensed up and hard. She’d seen this from a lot of the men she’d worked with, including a brief run in with Creed herself. If she let Logan cow her, she’d never get him to open up about anything. The truth was that Charles Xavier had asked her to stay not just for Molly, but for Kimble if and when he was ever returned. Charles was concerned at how badly things had turned out and how it disrupted the rhythm of the team.

“I hope you don’t think that threats and aggressive posturing will work on me, Logan, because it won’t. I’ve seen far worse from bigger losers than you. All I wanted was to talk to you and get to know you better. I’m sorry if that intimidated you, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” she said, deliberately making him feel foolish. “If you change your mind and want to have a real conversation about real things, I’ll be around.” She grabbed her cup and started to walk out.

“Wait! Wait... I didn’t mean ta snap at ya like that,” Logan said, cooling a little. “It’s just that he really bugs me, that’s all.”

“Who? Kimble? From what I’ve heard, he wasn’t that big a deal.”

“Who didja talk to? Chuck? He don’t know nuthin’.”

“And you do? Enlighten me then. What did Kimble do that was so bad? Really, I’m very interested in your opinion.”

“I ain’t got time, it’s late.”

“Then write it down.”

“What?”

“Write it down. You can write?”

He glared at her.

“Get a notebook from Henry and write it down. Just put down whatever comes to your mind. I promise not to let anyone else read it. It will be private between you and me.”

“Why’re you so interested in him?”

“What makes you think it’s him I’m interested in? I’ll just bet your opinions would tell me a lot about you. Might be interesting.” she said, smiling at him flirtatiously.

Logan stood still, momentarily breathless. She was so beautiful standing there unafraid. “I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll be waiting with eager anticipation,” she teased, sipping her coffee. “I’ll see you around.” She left, walking slowly. She was very aware of his eyes on her as she walked away. She couldn’t explain her attraction to him, it was so unexpected and wonderful. She was a workaholic without much time for dating. It had been a long time since she was this interested in anyone and the thought of it made her smile. Yes, it was going to be so much fun living here.

To read more, click here: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2618359/1/The_Three_of_Me

 

[squeekness]

(Four)

The next morning, Remy made his way down to the kitchen, hungry and ready for coffee. He lost some of his good humor when he saw Logan had beat him down there, the man was sitting at the table with Karen and Molly. As Gambit had feared, the coffee was already made. He groaned internally at the thought of Logan’s sludge and could do little more than smile a lukewarm greeting to his teammate. Logan tracked him with his eyes, saying nothing but grinning silently.

It was late now, around ten, and Gambit cursed himself for being a late sleeper. He crept over to the coffee pot dreading the worst, but was pleasantly surprised when he sniffed at it and it was at least half of Logan’s usual strength, someone else had made this. He grinned happily now and poured a cup. He sipped it and was even more pleased when it was even better than he had expected.

He turned to the crowd and took in what was going on. Karen was sitting across from Molly with a large children’s book open and out on the table. She was trying to teach Molly how to read. Remy watched with rapt curiosity when he saw Molly gesture with her hands at Karen and cocked his head with a grin when Karen signed back. Molly had read the word inaccurately and Karen was correcting her. She made the sign again with exaggerated slowness, speaking aloud. Molly repeated the gesture and Karen praised her. Gambit was amused and couldn’t help but chuckle softly. Sign language, it had been a while since he’d seen it.

His observation didn’t go unnoticed. Molly heard his noise and turned her chair to cough a rough bark at him.

“Oui, petite?” he replied with a playful lilt to his voice.

Is it all right? she signed. The coffee, I mean.

He cocked his head at her and grinned that charming smile of his. He set the cup down and shocked everyone else by skillfully signing back. It’s always all right whenever Logan doesn’t make it.

Molly laughed and smiled at him, happy that someone other than Karen had responded to her attempts to communicate. She looked different now that she had been cleaned up and properly cared for. She was no longer the feral, snarling prisoner that had arrived a couple of days ago. Her hair was clean and brushed and her face had a happy glow. He could see now her eyes were a nice pale blue and full of curiosity and fun. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a red colored T-shirt, a little big.

“I’m impressed,” Karen said to Remy. “I didn’t know anyone here could sign.”

“Gambit’s a bit rusty, but yeah. Had a cousin back N’awlin’s way who was deaf.”

“Funny how you’ve never mentioned it,” Wolverine grumbled. He was unhappy any time something new was revealed about Remy that the thief had kept hidden. Logan resented the fact that after all this time, Remy still didn’t quite trust them.

“It never came up,” Gambit replied arrogantly and hopped up on the counter top to sit. He winked at Molly and signed, Hello, my name is Remy. He spoke his name out loud so she would know it.

She returned his smile and replied, My name is Molly.

Her movements lacked his practice, but he was able to make it out. He cracked his knuckles and asked, Did you make the coffee?

Yes. I hope it’s not too strong.

Petite, you ain’t had strong until you’ve had Logan’s. I hope you never have to find out. Who taught you to make coffee?

Mason.

Who’s Mason, is that your dad?

Molly’s face went a little sad. He’s the guy who was taking care of me. He’s dead.

Sorry, chere. Gambit didn’t know.

Molly laughed softly. Who’s Gambit?

Remy cocked his head again and gave her another flirtatious smile, turning on the charm automatically, it was second nature to him with women. Gambit is me and I am Gambit. We are the same.

“Hope yer not talkin’ dirty now. She’s a bit young fer you,” Wolverine growled, feeling a little left out. In his long life, sign language was a skill he’d never had a reason to learn.

“Never stopped him before, why would it now?” Rogue said, entering the room. She had arrived in high spirits, fresh and ready for her day. She was dressed in a half shirt with tight jeans. She had left the body stocking behind, boldly walking about with her flesh exposed. It was a new habit she had begun since she had taken up with Manny as if his ability to touch her now made it safe for everyone else. She had been cautioned by the Professor and Logan both, but she was always a bit wild and ignored them. So far nothing bad had happened, so no one really pushed the issue.

Gambit watched as she approached, his eyes locking onto her hungrily. All that bright naked skin made him flush instantly. At that moment, she was all he saw and she knew it. He tracked her as he raised his mug to drink, trying to make his inspection of her look casual. She wasn’t fooled and glided closer, knowing full well she had his complete attention. She reached for the coffee pot and poured a cup, standing very close to him. He was in the way and she boldly nudged him with an uncovered arm.

Remy smiled irritably and shook his head without speaking. She hadn’t touched him where his skin was bare but her message was clear enough. He didn’t move out of her way, but instead crossed his legs, deliberately brushing her butt with his foot. Insulted, she bumped him in roughly return and he sloshed coffee from his cup into his lap.

“Chienne!” he snarled as he was scalded, the curse spilling out of his mouth before he could stop it. He set his cup down before she could make him spill more. “You one clumsy girl, I swear!”

“You’re the one bein’ fresh, Cajun! And don’t you call me a b-tch, in French or otherwise!”

“Not my fault yo’ ass is so big!” he snapped, reaching for a towel. He was soaked.

Rogue yanked it out of his reach. “The only thing big around here is your mouth!”

“Not de only t’ing big on me, neh?” he returned with his usual cockiness, grabbing for the towel again. She kept it out of reach as she glared at him with defiant eyes. He reached for the towel again, this time his other hand brushing her watch unseen, a slight done quickly, and he gave the band a little charge of bio-kinetic energy. It was the same as large static shock. She squealed in surprise and jumped back, clearing the way for him to reach for the prize. He snatched the towel and grunted at her triumphantly, sticking his tongue out at her. He sat back, all proud of himself, and began to pat at his drowned lap. He leered at her as he did this, and raised an eyebrow suggestively. “You gonna give a boy a hand, chere? Is your mess after all.”

“Go suck an egg!” she snapped and shoved him roughly, pushing him further away on the counter. “Why can’t you sit at the table like a civilized person?”

Remy cursed again and almost came off the edge. His cup teetered dangerously and he managed to catch it before it crashed to the floor. He sloshed more hot coffee over his hand in the process and hissed another complaint in garbled French. His eyes squinted and he sneered at her, no longer enjoying the game. He was about to make another nasty comment but Wolverine interrupted him.

"Hey you two, quit it or take that crap outside!" Logan complained, not in the mood.

To read more, click here: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2618359/1/The_Three_of_Me

 

[squeekness]

Molly watched the whole thing with wry amusement but was very aware that there was more than just rambunctious playing behind all this. These two had been an item and had broken up recently, she had heard in the whispers of the Xavier hallways. Remy was trying to act like it didn’t matter, but everyone knew better. His fooling around was a way of covering his pain. Now he was burned and angry, all the pain had been on his end and it was taking all of the fun out of today’s little game. He adjusted his seat on the counter top, not giving in, but sucked on his stinging fingers miserably. His skin was scalded and he knew he should put them under cold water, but hadn’t wanted to get up. It would be acknowledging he’d lost. Rogue didn’t care. She moved away, her posture telling all she felt she had won this round fair and square.

Molly signed at Gambit, her eyes full of concern, You okay?

He caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. Sure, chere. Gambit always is.

“Where’s Fallen?” he asked out loud, wanting to move on. “She’s late.”

Logan shrugged. “Sleepin’ in, I guess. She ain’t been real excited ‘bout hangin’ out on Cameron’s roof.”

Remy hopped down from the counter and picked up the phone, dialing Fallen’s extension. He was closer to the sink now and used it to run cool water over his scalded fingers. He’d lost the battle so it didn’t matter if he lost face now as well.
Seth picked it up on the other end. “It’s about time somebody called!” he snapped irritably. It was very unlike him and Remy was instantly concerned.

“Whoa dere, buddy. Take it easy. What’s goin’ on?”

“Fallen went into Kimble’s room and hasn’t come out. Kimble didn’t put a screen in there so I can’t see what’s going on. She’s been in there all night. She never got around to rigging the phone for me to call out so I couldn’t get a hold of anybody.”

“Hang tight, little buddy. Gambit’s on ‘is way down.” He clicked off and started to leave. He paused in his stride when Wolverine joined him without saying anything. Logan’s sharp ears had picked up Seth’s end of the conversation as well. He considered it a matter of security and was concerned since he now considered Fallen to be part of his team so now he decided to come along. They departed quickly and went to the elevator. On the way down, Gambit slowly opened a pack of gum and slid a piece into his mouth.

“Somethin’ on yer mind, Cajun?”

“Fallen’s been quiet.”

“Everybody’s been quiet.” Logan sniffed at him. “You smell like the tunnels, boy. Where ya been runnin’?”

Gambit shrugged casually. “Jael’s place a tunnel. Figured maybe he took up some of de Morlock space left empty. Folks don’ generally go down dere. S’ quiet.”

“You turn up anything?”

“Nope, but Gambit ain’t gone too far.”

Gambit shifted uncomfortably and it wasn’t from his burned fingers. It was very hard for him, going down there again. It was a testament to his will and strong desire to take Jael down that he even braved it at all. Logan showed his respect by not pressing the issue further. If Remy found anything important, he would tell him, he knew it.

The elevator came to a stop and they went to the hanger. Logan said nothing as Remy scanned his hand and went inside the ship. Remy and Henry were the only ones Fallen had given complete freedom to enter and leave at will, this was a precaution she had taken after Kimble’s room invasion all those weeks ago. Logan didn’t have the same level of access. As head of Security, he would have to change that.

Seth popped up on the Main screen as soon as they entered, his face tight with worry. “She’s in Kimble’s room.”

Remy nodded and looked over, the door was shut. He knocked softly. “ ‘Ey, Fallen? You okay, chere?” There was no reply. He tugged on the door, it was locked. He grinned in irritation and popped the lock with a small snap of kinetic energy and a swift twist of his wrist. He opened the door and stepped inside.

Fallen lay sprawled on Kimble’s bed, her body twisted up in his blankets. She had emptied his lock box and dumped it all out over the floor. She had made a mess, Remy could see she had flung the stuff about in a fit of anger or despair. He went over to her and nudged her shoulder. She didn’t move.

“The girl’s stoned, Cajun. Don’t bother,” Logan grumbled, pissed off. Fallen had been very good lately, he didn’t think she had been using at all since they had come back. She had dropped it as fast as she had dumped the Lightning. Kimble’s disappearance had changed that apparently.

“Is she okay?” Seth asked from the other room, his voice full of woe.

“Yeah,” Logan answered. “She’s just sleepin’.”

“She’s been there all night,” the young Siskan complained, his eyes as sad as his voice. “She shot up with something.”

Seth lowered his eyes and turned away, putting his head down. This was just another reminder of how helpless he was. He couldn’t do anything while he was still in the system.

Remy rolled Fallen over onto her back and smoothed out the blankets over her. She groaned and her eyes fluttered open. “Kimble? S’ that you?”

“Je suis de sole, chere. De boy ain’t come back yet.”

Fallen turned back the way she had been before, giving him her back and covered her face. “I can’t go out today.”

“S’okay, now. You get some rest, take it easy.” Remy said, tucking her in. It was hard being this close to her, her body was giving off vibrations of such deep sorrow and misery, it was making Gambit’s throat hurt at the thought of it.

She was saying, “I miss him so much. I miss the way he used to play and laugh all of the time. I miss the way he would tell jokes to cheer me up when I was so sad. Yes, I miss his laughter. He hardly ever laughs anymore.” Fallen squeezed her eyes shut as tears teased the corners of her eyes.

Gambit swallowed, trying to get past the lump in his throat. Pain and misery were the hardest emotions for him to block he was learning, and he tried his best to make her feel better. “Je sais, I know, chere. Gambit miss him, too. ‘E understand yo’ pain, but doin’ dis to y’self, it ain’t gonna ‘elp nobody. It ain’t gonna ‘elp Kimble or Seth. He in de nex’ room all shakin’ an’ scare’ ‘cause ‘e don’ know what to do for you. We all feelin’ guilty fo’ makin’ Kimble leave. De only way ta make dat right is ta go find ‘im, chere, not hidin’ away while de worl’ rip him apart. Dat’s how we lose him in de first place.”

She lost the battle with her emotions and began to cry. “I didn’t mean to be so mean to him. It’s just...it’s just...Seth!”

Remy rubbed her shoulder with gentle reassurance. “Si bien. I’m sure Kim understands. We gonna get ‘im back, you’ll see. You jus’ take it easy t’day, is all.”

He held her until she calmed, then finished tucking her in and withdrew, his face now tired and sad. He left her alone and came out into the Main Room. He looked at Kimble’s brother who stood slumped in the Control Room of the Dragon’s computer, his misery shining bright. He raised a hand and lay it on the screen as Fallen had always done. “I’ll get ‘Enry for you. He’ll fix de phone.”

“Thanks,” Seth replied, his tone dismal. There weren’t words to describe his misery. His brother was gone and his Mistress was depressed. He was trapped in here with no way out. He was useless, not a good thing for a Siskan to be.

Remy smiled at him, sensing his thoughts. “Tay kunda Siska esk, non? Don’ worry, we’ll get Kimble back. We gonna fix alla dis.”

Seth turned to him, grateful for Gambit’s consideration and thoughtfulness. He lay his hand over Remy’s. “I see why my brother loves you,” he replied in Siskan, prompted by Remy’s usage of it. “You are very much alike.”

“Merci, mon ami. I’ll take dat as a compliment. You sit tight, ‘Enry will be right down. Gambit will see to it, bien?”

“Thanks.”

Logan was quiet through the whole exchange. He didn’t need an understanding of Siskan to know what was said. Seth was hurting, left out because of his inability to do anything and Remy was there to help. These Siskans had integrated themselves into Gambit’s life and he had embraced them eagerly, something unexpected. The loner thief was changing before his eyes, growing up. “We gotta roll, Cajun. Our shift is comin’ up,” he grumbled softly, not really complaining.

“D’accorde. I’m wit you, patron.”

They left Seth and Fallen behind, making sure to stop at Henry’s to tell him what was going on. Henry was only just rising, but promised to go down to the Lucky Dragon as soon as he was showered and ready. Logan and Remy went into the elevator and returned to the upper level. In the car, Wolverine once more looked over his teammate.

“You look kinda beat. Maybe you should take a nap while we’re out. Gotten’ kinda used ta havin’ a body at my feet. Don’t make no difference if it’s yours.”

Remy just smiled at him. These were serious times and their agenda was full. He wanted Kimble home, but needed to know where Jael was. If they failed to bring Kimble back and the pilot was moved to Jael’s, they would need to know where to start looking. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but he was cautious, just as Logan was. Plus, Jael was owed some serious payback for his little prank with the virus. Gambit’s memory was long and that was something he wouldn’t let go, no matter how long it took.

“Gambit’s good, patron. Already ‘ad ‘is coffee.”

“Too bad ya wore most of it. We’ll hit a Starbuck’s on the way out.”

“Fair enough. Who we gonna get ta fly us up to the top? Not much notice.”

“Rogue or Warren, take yer pick,” Logan tossed out, curious who Remy would pick. He wondered if Remy had noticed Warren’s peculiar inspection of him.

He hadn’t. Remy groaned in mental agony, the bastard or the *****, what a choice. This day was going to suck.

Logan just laughed at him. “Jus’ kiddin’. The Professor just cleared some new kid from the school named Max. Got wings and everything. He’s had a little flight skills training for lift and carry and can get us up there, but he’ll be bored easy once we’re there. You still got yer Game Boy?”

“Oui, somewheres. I’ll dig it up.”

“Grab some junk food while yer at it. Maybe if we put him inta sugar shock, he’ll go quiet.”

“Newbies,” Remy joked, shaking his head. “Gotta love ‘em.”

To read more, click here: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2618359/1/The_Three_of_Me

 

[squeekness]

(Five)

Remy sat on the roof, his eyes glazing over. He’d had his coffee and a donut for good measure and was now done in every way that counted. Logan looked at him and smiled. He gave the Cajun a nudge and laughed when Gambit gave it up and slumped over to lay down, wiggling a little bit to get to comfortable. He settled down but couldn’t fall asleep right away, no matter how tired he was. He couldn’t stop thinking about the tunnels.

He’d been going the last couple of nights, looking for Jael’s hideout. He would come home from his shift on the roof, change clothes and go right back out again. He’d take searching a tunnel over sitting on his ass like this any day, it felt more like getting something done. His first trip out had been pretty rough, though. The scent of the place and the familiar sights almost did him in. He heaved up his supper, but wouldn’t let this place defeat him. He sucked it up and went inside.

He didn’t find much. The Morlock Massacre had pretty much emptied the place and folks weren’t in an all fired rush to move back in. There were no bodies, no blood. The Massacre had happened years ago and the bodies long since buried, many of them at Xavier’s. They had come looking for help and medical attention. For some, it hadn’t been enough.

Gambit had prowled the tunnels, looking for clues. They were old sewer pipes and subway expansion tubes built by the city long ago and forgotten. The Morlocks had claimed them for themselves and even added onto them. They were vast and unmapped, though he tried his best to take notes of where he was going. He didn’t need a flashlight though he had brought a penlight along to write his notes. His ruby red eyes were well suited for the dark and he saw quite easily. It was one of the things that made him such a good thief, that and his stealth. He made no sound as he traveled and left no trace of his passing.

He still didn’t find anything, all technological and biological advantages notwithstanding. It might have been better if he’d brought Logan with him as a bloodhound, but he wouldn’t be able to look him in the eyes, not in this place. Wolverine had been on the team that had come down here and driven the Marauders off. It would have been too much.

Gambit looked for any signs that someone had been coming and going down here, but found nothing. There was a fine layer of dust and grime on everything, nothing was disturbed. Of course, that didn’t mean Jael didn’t have an area camouflaged off or an addition somewhere else down the line. Still, if they were using this place, they certainly weren’t walking in and out. No vehicles could fit and no footprints were found.

Still, something nagged at him. He’d gotten the scent of this place when Jael had taken him. It was too much to be coincidence. He just had to keep looking. If he was lucky, he would turn up something. Those thoughts were rumbling around inside of his brain when he finally dropped off to sleep on this boring old rooftop. He was snoring softly a few minutes later and Logan smiled again.

“Yes!”

Wolverine turned and scowled at Fallen’s replacement. Max was sitting on his other side, totally engrossed in Gambit’s Game Boy. Obviously he had succeeded at something. He was dressed like the teenager he was --- jeans, T-shirt, sneakers (untied of course). Funny how he never seemed to trip. He just smiled and cruised along, never stumbling over those long loose laces trailing behind him. His shirts had been cut to allow for his feathered wings. He was so like Warren and yet not. Both were blonde and feathered, but not related. Warren’s bones were hollow so his wings could lift him, Max’s were not. He was like Fallen in that he used both his wings and telekinetic ability to fly. Max had the advantage that he could also carry. Warren couldn’t, not large passengers anyway. They were simply too heavy.

“How ya hangin’ in there, kid?” Logan growled.

“This is so cool!” Max said, beaming. He felt special for having been picked for this. This was like real secret agent stuff!

“Yeah, sure. Whatever ya say,” Wolverine said and turned away, not showing his smile. As far as kids went, Max really wasn’t that bad. He was easy to please and hadn’t complained about being up here. It was a warm day and there were a billion things a kid like Max would probably prefer doing. Logan had picked up some vague rumors about Max being interested in Maylee. He was cool with it, they both seemed like good kids.

Looking at Max was making Logan think. Max and Warren. Molly and Creed. Jeez, what a suck ass thing, to have that monster as your dad. The more he thought about it, the more plausible it seemed. He had to make sure he had Henry do that DNA test. Best to be sure and prepare for the worst.

Logan scanned Cameron’s rooftop, his thoughts drifting elsewhere. He had a notebook next to him and a fresh pen. He hadn’t written in it yet, but he would. He smiled as he thought of Karen and her challenge. Yeah, he would have a few choice things to write about Kimble that was certain. Spoiled rotten little bugger. Sick horny mutherf--ker, no f--kin’ patience... He closed his eyes as a shiver of anger took him. He had to stay focused. Let the others worry about Kimble. All he had to do was just bring the bastard home. Charlie could get Kimble straightened out. It wasn’t his job.

He mulled over Anya’s prediction. It seemed as though they weren’t going to pick up Kimble anytime soon. He hadn’t been seen at all coming and going from this place. Cameron’s was like a fortress. They weren’t going to get in and out of here easily, that was for sure. If it came down to it, they would have to set up a team at the warehouse Anya had selected.

He knew he shouldn’t go, but it bugged him what she’d said about him not being able to handle Kimble there. He was a rock, he could do the job. Had been for years. He didn’t see how Kimble could possibly learn about Crazy John. That was a nightmare come and gone a long time ago. Kimble would have to be some kind of psychic and that talent hadn’t been on Kimble’s list last he checked. Anya was just being paranoid.

Crazy John. The thought of that man and what he’d done sent a shiver down his spine. No. He wouldn’t be thinking about that. It was done, finished. Begone, stupid ghost, f--ck you. He did his best to banish the thought, but the next time the breeze ran over his bare arms, gooseflesh rose in spite of the heat.

Max cried out again with pleasure next to him and Wolverine was back in the real world. He blanked out his mind and set his eyes on the target. He would concentrate on the here and now. He would see this through. He would not **** up. He wouldn’t let the team down. He was Wolverine, the best at what he does. Nothing would keep him from doing his job, not some ghost, not even Kimble.

To read more, click here: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2618359/1/The_Three_of_Me