Summary : While the X-men begin to track down a mysterious terrorist, Kimble struggles to fit in at the Institute. Part 10 of my Kimble series.

Notes : Rated M for language, violence, and sexual situations.

AU but only because I chose to change a few things in my dear friends' histories for simplification, nothing drastic so please forgive. I wrote this for a friend who didn't read the comics so there is a bit of back history and explanation on who everyone is and what their powers are. I've been working on this story for years so I do ask that you don't use any of my non-Marvel universe characters without my permission. I love my Siskans as I do my children.

Wyndsong, good to hear from you. I'm glad you're still reading!

ColossusR, thanks for chiming in. Yeah I do know that in the comics, Rogue wasn't actually raped, but it makes more sense for her to have been given that it was a prison and all. I think Marvel was going to do it and chickened out because too many young people read the books. Also, yeah, Kimble is a lot like a puppy in his natural playful innocence and tendency for trouble as you will read here.

Thanks again to all of you who have commented. You might not think so but I have been paying attention to all you guys say. With this newest rewrite, I have added scenes, changed things around, and I think my story has been all the better for it. Hope to keep hearing from you! - Sq.

Updated 10-14-13 to add (break)s as needed and some persistent spelling and punctuation errors.

(One)

Kimble leaned against the side of the shop bench, hopelessly bored. He stared off into space, his eyes glazing over. Fallen and Henry had begun their efforts to free Seth from the system and already they had hit some difficult snags. It was going to take a while. They had been at this all morning and it was now well after noon.

Henry was serious about Kimble joining the school as a student alongside Maylee and to that end Kimble had spent a small portion of yesterday sitting at a desk undergoing placement testing. It was standard procedure for any new person to do this in order to determine where in the school they should be placed academically. Since Kimble had never had any formal schooling, one could only guess what grade he should be admitted to. Maylee had joined him for the testing but Kimble's computer driven mind had him zipping through the exams far more quickly than she did. His responses were now being evaluated and until they came back, he was here to free to do as he pleased, which pretty much meant being bored to pieces. Before being removed from the computer, Kimble had duties, he had things to do. Their arrival here had freed him of most of those responsibilities and he now found himself unoccupied, uselessly twiddling his thumbs and cooling his heels.

Their first full day here had gone quietly and other than the boring old testing, Kimble had enjoyed it, wanting some time away from the stress of their chaotic journey here. Now after that break in the action, he was ready for a little more excitement. Not wanting to be alone, he had passed the time here at the feet of his Mistress, but was running out of things to appease his short attention span. He had occupied himself playing solitaire for a while, but he had always hated playing alone. Fallen was seated next to him on a stool, her face glowing blue from the computer screen in front of her.

"Ya wants ta go outside with me?" Kimble asked his Mistress.

Fallen's eyes never left the screen. "Not now, Kim. I'm busy. Maybe later, okay?"

He got up with a grunt and went to the Storage Room. He pulled out the guitar and took it out to the shop, making himself comfortable on Fallen's bed. He plucked a few awkward notes and then played happily, momentarily amused.

"Kimble?"

"Uh huh?" he replied, looking up into Fallen's sky blue eyes with a small smile. He had her attention now and would do anything she asked.

"Could you take that upstairs? I can't concentrate."

Kimble swallowed his disappointment. "Uh, shure, baby doll."

He picked up the guitar and left. He settled on one of the barracks beds, but it just wasn't the same doing this alone. He set the instrument down and shuffled into the empty galley, not quite sure what he was doing there. He opened the cupboards one by one, but found nothing of interest. Sullen and morose, he left the ship, seeking anything, anything to make this dull empty boredom go away.

Kimble took the tram and wandered through the lower level of the Institute, peering into the gym with curiosity. The gym was a huge room with a hardwood floor and a tall vaulted ceiling. A long eye beam ran the length of that ceiling and a had a climbing rope attached to it. There was a basketball court and tennis area marked off. Another section was set aside as a workout room with many weight benches and exercise machines. Three tread mills stood by patiently waiting for use. Two doors leading out were labeled Locker Room and Showers.

The gym was empty except for a lone X-man huffing and puffing at the weights. Bobby Drake was stretched out on the bench, heaving quite a bit more weight than he should, recklessly working out without a spotter. He had always been kind of scrawny and was determined to match Wolverine's solid body if it took him all his life.

Kimble grinned, not about to let an opportunity like this go to waste. He shivered and shifted into his woman skin, taking the time to clothe herself in a tight fitting black spandex dress. She sauntered casually into the gym, whistling softly.

Iceman set the weights down and looked up. "Uh? Who's there?" He squinted up at his unexpected visitor, struggling to recognize her. "Kimble?"

She didn't answer him, but slowly made her way next to his bench, moving with her languid feline grace the whole way. She stood over him now, pinning him down with her beautiful blue eyes, then straddled the bench over his waist. He was so stunned by her sudden appearance and seductive manner, he made no move to stop her.

Kimble leaned down over him, giving him full view of her ample cleavage and touched his fuzzy chin with a slender white finger. "Still wants ta see what I kin do?"

Bobby's throat was working but only a strangled wheeze came out. This certainly wasn't something that happened to him every day, in spite of his own ability to charm.

Kimble came closer still and kissed him slowly, licking at his lips playfully. All her skill and training as a Courtesan came to bear now that she was finally back in her element, she had Bobby's full attention now. She closed her eyes and kissed him deeper, feeling him give in with a moan.

Bobby's mind was swimming. He knew on some level that this was wrong, that he should be shoving this faux female away, but he was overcome with a sudden desire and heady lust that robbed him of all reason. As with Bruce, Kimble was seducing him quickly, backwashing her own heat and passion into him and drowning him with it. He fell back against the bench and offered no resistance.

Kimble was thrilled beyond measure. What a delightful end to another boring, empty day. She still had no idea that Bobby was overcome by her spell. She did not possess real control over her empathy, she simply believed that Bobby had finally accepted her invitation from the other night and she was going to feel the heat and rapture of his love. It had been so very long...so very long.

The gym door slammed suddenly and a female voice squeaked, "Oh! Excuse me!"

Kimble looked up with half open eyes and saw Jean standing there, her mouth wide open.

"What's goin' on?" Wolverine growled from behind her, impatient that she had stopped so suddenly and was in his way. He took one look at the interrupted parties and snarled.

"Wh-what's happening...?" Bobby slurred from the bench, his mind still cloudy. He blinked blearily and pawed up at the woman on top of him. He felt her there and then came to his senses suddenly. "Hey!" he shouted and transformed his body into a living statue of ice.

The same way Iceman's fingers had frosted from the stress of his reunion with his dear friend Henry, he could alter his whole body at will if he was pressed enough. This had been no accident – he was pissed to be sure, but firmly in control this time. The ability to change his whole body was a unique and useful talent, especially when cornered by someone who couldn't handle the freeze. Topping even that, he created bumpy little spikes as well, an icicle porcupine.

Kimble yelped as she was suddenly chilled by the presence of the human popsicle below her. Repelled by the fierce cold and semi-sharp spikes, she toppled gracelessly and fell over onto her ass with a shout. She stood up, pulling her runaway dress down and dusted off, pissed off at her rough treatment.

"What's the big idear, man! I wuzn't doin' nuthin' ya didn't wants!"

Kimble's accent sounded so strange and wrong with her high pitched female voice, marring the illusion she had created. No longer fooled, Bobby staggered away from the bench, his hands held defensively over his crotch, even frozen he was sporting a big one and couldn't hide it. That much of Kimble's seduction had worked at least, but whatever fascination he'd had with the Siskan from the other night was now clearly gone. "What did you think you were doing? Get away from me, you fuckin' freak!"

Kimble stepped back, stung by the accusation and the vibrations of hate and loathing that were now coming from her would be lover. "I ain't no freak!" she blurted out, offended, and contradicted herself by shifting back into her pilot skin.

Wolverine had by this time stomped his way over and he now stood in between Bobby and Kimble. He glanced back at Iceman, who had recovered some of his dignity. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he grumbled, disgusted. The fact that Kimble had changed back into his male form didn't help Kimble's case one bit. Bobby was horrified.

"Did you want this?"

"Hell, no! I was just minding my own business, working out, and she...he...it came in here and started in on me. I don't know what happened, I can't remember..."

"It's all right. Just be careful next time," Wolverine cautioned, saving his anger for Kimble. He looked back at Kimble now, his eyes blazing. "What the fuck did ya think you were doin'?"

"Nuthin'. I wuz jus' lonely and wanted some comp'ny. That's all."

"Well, find it somewhere else!" Logan snarled, giving out a threatening growl with it.

Kimble fled. He bolted out of the gym, sickened by Logan's bright shine and the hate that inevitably came with it. He hadn't done anything wrong as far as he knew, Logan's anger was unjustified. He had overheard that Bobby didn't have a mate and Kimble took that to mean he was available. Bobby hadn't given him any indication on the first night here that he wasn't interested so Kimble just didn't understand what had happened. He hadn't expected the disgusted loathing that had come from the young man and certainly didn't think he deserved it. Kimble had gone out of his way to make himself more presentable with the female skin, so what was the big deal?

Kimble ran in his sloppy pilot's gait, crooked cat legs not being the best for running. He had never had to run for any kind of real distance in this skin before and hadn't realized just how awkward these legs were for running. He found that if he leaned slightly forward and slowed his stride to match that of a bird, he could actually run quite quickly.

He covered the mile long distance back to the hanger at a fast trot, not wanting to wait for the tram. He didn't want to go back to the Dragon and the boredom that waited for him there, so he made his way to the back of the hanger and phased up inside one of the Blackbirds. He was still fascinated by these large planes and liked to roam around inside them. They were large and roomy inside with two small rows of seats.

He curled up in one of the furthest seats from the front and tucked his head under his arms, bawling. He wasn't mean, he wasn't bad, he was just lonely. Just in need of love. Didn't these people need love, too? Why was he so different that he should be punished like this?

He cried until he fell asleep. He hadn't realized he was dreaming until he found himself in the circle of light of the Black Room, shivering and alone. He wasn't on the Lucky Dragon and he knew he wouldn't have access to this room unless he was there, his telepathic link with the ship had no range. He wiped at his face and called out to his brother anyway, but the only response was silence. He didn't like it when he dreamed of the Black Room, it usually meant trouble. It was here that Zander, a remnant echo of a former life and his personal boogy man, liked to come out and try and play around with his head. He had hoped to be free of Zander, but it didn't look like he was going to be so lucky. He had made a tentative peace with this angry spirit, but that didn't mean Zander couldn't come out and do something freaky just for a laugh.

He heard a small scritching noise and whirled around, surprised he actually got a response to his call. He felt a sudden icy fear he couldn't explain. He could sense the presence of another person just beyond the inky blackness. "Seth? Is that you?" he called out, still hopeful for a happy ending.

There was no answer, but he jumped back when a broken wooden sign came flying out at him at him from the impenetrable darkness. Whoever was out there had thrown it at him. He picked it up and turned it over. It was filthy, covered with excrement and grime. Kimble grimaced in disgust, but didn't let it go. There were some words scrawled on it, junta bay. The Siskan expression for the worst kind of evil possible. Kimble's trembling grew worse. "Who's there?" he whispered again, not really wanting to know.

"Kill yerself..." a voice whispered soft and low. It was tiny, like that of a small child, a young girl. It sounded similar to Young Kimble's voice when she had been in the girl skin, but he couldn't be sure. She continued her tiny persuasions, "It'd be so easy. We would be happy then, up in Heaven with our father."

"Zander!" Kimble called out. He wasn't sure if it was Zander messing with him or not, but he knew Zander couldn't be trusted. It was easier to blame him than to think of where this might be going. "This isn't funny!"

He was greeted only with a moan of terrible pain and anguish. "I wants ta go home! There ain't no loves here fer us!"

The sound tore a hole in Kimble's heart and he felt tears come to his eyes. Her pain was unmistakable and frightening, mainly because it was achingly familiar. Spooked, Kimble dropped the sign, not wanting to touch it anymore. "Zander stop this! It ain't funny no more!"

"What makes ya think it's me?"

Kimble turned around as he saw the spirit of his former self approach from a different direction than the sign had been tossed. Zander walked confidently into the circle of light and circled him slowly, looking him over with his shattered mirror face.

"Stop it with yer games, it ain't funny no more!"

"I heard you the first time, pup. That wasn't me," Zander said playfully. His voice was low and growly, the sound of anger and hate.

"Then who is it?" Kimble asked impatiently. He had no desire to play any of Zander's games.

"Oh, don' mind her, she's just a pathetic little scrap of garbage."

"You all hates me!" the girl whispered again and sobbed.

"Of course we hates ya, ya never shuts up!" Zander growled out to the darkness. "Go away!" Zander looked down at Kimble whose face had creased with worry. It was bad enough he dreamed of Zander, he didn't need anyone new to trouble him. "Ya don' look so happy, pilot," Zander observed. "Things still not workin' out fer you?" he asked, an 'I told you so' tone in his voice.

Kimble wiped at his frightened tears defensively and tried to hide his pain. "Evrathin's fine."

"Shure it is. That's why yer all curled up an' hidin' away from yer precious X-men. You cain't lie worth shit, boy."

"What do ya want?"

"Just lettin' ya know I'm still here an' I'll be checkin' in on you from time ta time. We gots work ta do, don' ferget."

"What work?"

"Sheyman's work. Ya gots ta learn yer powers. I ain't gonna sit back and let ya wimp out here like ya done on the ship. These alphas ain't pushin' us around, I kin guarantee that."

"You ain't real. You don' control me," Kimble said arrogantly, horrified that Zander was even still around. He tossed the wooden sign back out into the black, sure now that Zander had been toying with him.

"No, I ain't real. Not like you. But I gots a voice an' when ya need it, I'm gonna be right here shoutin' at ya."

"I don' need yer help."

"Yes, ya do," Zander replied and stepped back, his hands glowing a faint blue. Like magic, a ghostly image of Valentin's huge broadsword presented itself in his hands. "Don' ferget this. We're gonna learn how ta use this. We're gonna show these alphas that yer stronger'n them an' that they better start treatin' ya right. Gives ya the respect ya deserve."

Kimble swallowed heavily, not sure what Zander was really after, but still agreeing with some of what he had said. Sheyman had told him to learn his powers and anything else he could. He wondered if he should push the issue of his joining the school a little harder with Henry, but the cool reaction he just got from the X-men crew held him back. He was beginning to wonder if the students would like him any better than the Senior alphas did. Seemed like he just didn't fit in anywhere.

"Doncha worry none. We're gonna learn this together. Jus' you an me," Zander promised.

Kimble nodded slowly and lowered his eyes. He startled a little when he felt Zander approach and touch his face. Zander ran his thumb over Kimble's lips and grinned, leaning in to kiss him. Once more, Kimble felt a surge of strength from the contact and startled awake back on the Blackbird, aroused beyond belief. He squirmed on the seat and shivered himself naked, impatient to get his hands on himself. He jerked off quickly, shaking and quivering with disappointment when he climaxed without the satisfaction he craved, it just wasn't the same without someone else there and it never would be. Still, some of his earlier heat was gone and he could think a little better.

He wasn't happy he was still dreaming about Zander, but wasn't afraid like before. He had been reunited with his lost memories and was stronger now than he had been before. He had accepted Zander as the spirit of his rage and the sword as the spirit of his strength and power. Zander was no split personality waiting to take him over, Kimble tried to reassure himself, he was just a voice in his mind. Hopefully he would be a bit more helpful to him now that they'd made some kind of truce. The thing here was to keep his rage under control and not let Zander get out of hand.

He dressed himself and phased out of the Blackbird, dropping down silently to the floor. He was still lonely and shuffled back to the Lucky Dragon. He expected to get yelled at for the trouble in the gym, but apparently the others had kept his little mistake to themselves. Henry and Fallen were still fast at work in the shop. It was as though he had never left, his departure hadn't even been noticed. Somehow, that hurt him even more than the ugly vibrations he had gotten from Bobby and Wolverine. He was forgettable, useless, and in the way.

Kimble put his head down as his depression caved in on him again and he phased into the Storage Room without saying anything to anyone. He climbed up on one of the racks and pulled down a bottle of whiskey. He sat in a corner and pulled a blanket over himself before cracking open the bottle. He drank deeply and felt the alcohol warm him with its false heat and lay his head back to sleep again This time he was determined not to have any dreams. He took another big hit off the bottle and his eyes grew heavy. He snuggled down in the blanket and dropped off, not even feeling the lonely tears that slowly dried on his cheeks.