Author's note – sorry this is still being updated only once a week. I am still working on those pesky corrections in my previous posts. I have gotten a lot done. The Kimble series is complete and I am nearly done with The Game. That leaves Twilight and then I should be able to get back to this full time and get the darn thing done. After that I will update this much more frequently.

(Two)

Hank was unconcerned as he saw Gryfon pass out. He had given him some morphine to make him more comfortable so this wasn't unexpected. It was true however, that since Gryfon was no longer physically the same as he had been in the past, it would be hard to say how his altered physiology was going to deal with the standard meds that used to work just fine. So far, it was taking the morphine well and he was no longer suffering.

Hank passed along the information about the white truck that Gryfon had just given him. Scott was grateful for it but it was temporarily lost as Fallen complained about something just as distressing as all this. "I can't find the beacon for the Dragon 2."

"What do you mean?" Scott wanted to know.

"I mean I think the ship is gone." She gestured to the Main Room viewing screen. "There's Logan's cabin. I mean, it must be that one since it's the one closest to this location and fits its description. But there's no Dragon 2."

"Could it be cloaked?"

"Sure, but Lucky would still be able to see it with his scanners. It's the same tech. I'm saying the ship itself is gone."

"Maybe the kids used it to escape," Bobby suggested. He certainly hoped so, he still couldn't get the image of Kyle's poor splattered brains out of his mind.

"They would have contacted us if they had," Scott replied. "We'll have to consider it stolen until we find out otherwise."

Scott knew this was bad. It hadn't really occurred to him until now just what might happen if that alien tech got into the hands of the wrong people. It could possibly be used against them if the thieves were clever enough to figure it out.

"What about the cabin itself? Is there anyone there?"

"We're right above it at the moment," Fallen answered. "Infer red says it's empty."

"Do you think they could mask themselves?"

"Not from these sensors. Lucky's top of the line, better than SHIELD. Nobody's there."

"Forget about it for now," Scott said next, waving a hand dismissively. "Let's focus on what we can do. Is there any way to track that truck?"

"Yes," Fallen replied. "I had Lucky take as good a scan as he could of the tire tracks. As long as it stayed in the snow, we can follow it, or at least get an idea of where it may have gone. I can also leave the tracker for the Dragon 2 on. If they are chasing the same truck or if we get closer to them, we can pick up their beacon."

"Good, let's do that."

Hank turned away at that and returned his full attention to his patient. Tracking down Remy's wayward team would take time and he had plenty to do while the others did that. Just in case, he left the viewing screen on so that he could listen in as they made progress.

Hank had hooked Gryfon up to several monitors and they now indicated that this patient was stable. Gryfon did have a fever that was higher than he liked so he added meds for that as well to the IV. It seemed too soon for an infection but to be prudent, he added an anti-biotic just to keep all of his bases covered. After that, Hank's work was efficient but unhurried. His first task was to remove the bullets from Gryfon's back and flush out the wounds. The bleeding had stopped so this was a good sign.

Hank started by gently rolling Gryfon onto his side, all the better to get a look at the wounds there. He had been careful to make sure that Gryfon's head was turned just in case he vomited again. He didn't want to go through all this just to have his patient choke to death instead.

He dug in and began trying to remove the first slug. It took him much longer than it would have in the past. When Hank's body had been so radically altered during the Honey poisoning, it had also changed his hands enough that a significant amount of his former dexterity had been compromised. With hands that were more paws than fingers, it was taking him a long time to retrain them when it came to delicate things like surgery. Some of his tools had to be modified. Even so, until now he hadn't dared to do anything more complicated than basic life saving patch jobs. Lucky for him the Complex had a regular surgeon who had volunteered to take over from him but it stung.

Because of his setback, Hank had been on the disabled list and not allowed out on most missions. He had been allowed today because there was both the hope that there would be none or limited fighting. His vast amount of medical knowledge had also overridden the need to keep him home. There had been an unspoken agreement that for now at least that if there had been an actual fight out there in the snow, he would be treated as helpless and then protected, restricted to only defending himself and nothing more. He had been going through various therapies and training sessions back home these past months to help him reclaim what he had lost but it was going to take a very long time.

Helping him with that was his precious Star. Beyond being his personal "get well" machine, she was also his primary support system during his recovery. She was very patient and helped him to keep his frustrations in check. Her steady joy and quickness to laugh were essential to his recovery and he had very little to complain about. Plus he was blessed to live with such wonderful loving coworkers and team mates. No one was pressuring him to get back to his former glory on a certain time table besides himself.

A lesser man might have resented the person responsible for the poisoning in the first place, but Hank had let that anger go quite quickly. It had been poor Julien, Remy's estranged son, who had done this thing to him, but at the time, the boy was new to the Complex and a prisoner. He had acted out of fear and in self defense and had been trying to escape those he thought intended to torment him or even kill him. He'd had no idea that the X-men were actually not only on his side, but his family as well. All that had come later. For Hank it was easy to forgive a frightened young boy than if the deed had been done out of malicious mischief.

Hank finally worked the first slug free with little fuss. He squinted at it, trying to get a better look at the twisted bit of metal he was holding in the forceps. It was oddly shaped and didn't look like a normal bullet at all. It was possible he had mangled it on the way out but he didn't think so. His eyes widened as he realized why this bullet, though somewhat mashed, looked as it did. He could now see some markings that were looking familiar and not in a good way.

A few weeks ago, Seth had come into his office. Seth's contact with others was limited and that was just the way he wanted it. He had seen the hardships his more outgoing brother had endured and so kept himself hidden away for the most part in the Complex's labs and computer shops. In spite of this, Seth and Hank had grown quite close though and he was often the first person Seth went to when he might discover something of value.

The shy pale Siskan had handed Hank a slim manilla folder, his face tight with worry. He had come across something while surfing SHIELD's massive mainframe, something he thought might interest the big blue doctor. Seth did this often, and while not all of the information he discovered was immediately useful, it was a habit that Hank was sure to encourage. The folder Seth had given him contained some shocking news – it presented a vague outline and plans for the creation and use of what they were calling "dirty" bullets, ones that did more than merely wound their victims. This was yet another collaboration between Stark Enterprises Weapons Division and SHIELD who was always happy to purchase anything fun and exciting that Tony Stark's company might deliver up. The folder had included a single photo of an intact bullet, one that looked exactly like the one he was now holding. Horrifying to see this actually in use.

"Scott," Hank said aloud now, hoping his team mates weren't too busy up there to have a listen to the more ominous news he was about to give.

"What's up, Hank?" came the team leader's quick reply. He had caught the worry and the fear. "Is Warren okay?"

"He's stable but we may have other problems. I'm going to need you to alert the others back home that we'll be needing the topside quarantine facility up and running for our return."

On the viewing screen, Hank watched as Scott stiffened and turned to look into the upper level viewing screen that connected them both. They were now looking eye to eye. Or they would have been if Scott wasn't wearing his visor. "Why? What's going on?"

Hank held up the slug. "You are now looking at a Stark Tech dirty bullet, one that was loaded with who knows what. Judging by Warren's fever, it is likely to be some kind of flu, but that would be only my best guess."

"Flu?" Scott repeated with real concern. "You don't think it's the Flush, do you?"

"Perhaps, though the Flush isn't fatal to mutants so I don't quite see the point of shooting him with such loaded bullets unless it was to just slow him down. I could run a test for it anyways. It's also possible he was infected with the intention that he might infect others."

"Do it and check for anything else you might be able to find," Scott ordered. "I'll let them know back home to set up that quarantine room for us."

"Thanks."

Scott went back to work on the current problem of finding that truck and Hank left him to it. Hank had a variety of kits on hand and drew blood, getting started. This mini triage was quite well stocked and he had both the lab and the time at the moment to get some of these tests going. Worst case scenario, they could quarantine the entire ship since they were the only ones who had contact with Gryfon after he had been shot – that they knew of anyhow - and so he could finish up these tests here if needs be.

Hank had known about Logan's supposedly top secret mission to eliminate the living source of the Flush. Logan had reported back that the outing had been successful so Hank was distressed at the idea that this test might come back positive. The idea that this terrible virus could be weaponized after all they had done remove it from existence was heartbreaking. The mission Logan had been sent on had been a success in the sense that the source itself had been eliminated, but for some unknown reason it clearly had done some damage to Logan's fragile hold on his sanity. It would be a shame for all that to have gone to waste.

His thoughts were interrupted by some activity upstairs. "There's a train station up ahead," Fallen had just announced.

"Do the truck tracks lead there?" Scott wanted to know. He had risen to his feet, unable to sit still now that they were on to something. He was staring at the view screen, watching all the angles as they flew closer to their target.

"Yes. So far, so good," Fallen replied, "I think I can see a white truck parked over there to the left by those tracks. It's by itself and not in a parking lot which is a bit odd. There's no one else around so we'll have some privacy at least. I can scan the plate and see if it's the one we want."

Scott gestured to the screen. "Is that it there?"

"Yes." Fallen flew their craft closer and hovered over the truck, taking advantage of the zoom feature on one of the outside cameras to get a better look at the rear plate. She had no fear of being observed, the ship was still cloaked even as she worked. The worst that could happen was some poor bird might unwittingly fly into them but that was it. A moment later she nodded and said, "That's our plate all right. Truck looks empty."

Bobby shook his head, confused. "But it's not near the station at all. Why would he park there? Where would he go?"

Scott shrugged. "Maybe he met someone, there's lots of train tracks there. Plenty of workers going in and out I'll bet. Fallen, can you set Lucky down here?"

"No way. There's not enough open space nearby with all these parked trains. Don't sweat it though, we could always just hover here and let the flyers drop down."

"Fair enough."

Fallen positioned the ship as best she could and opened the hatch. Rogue and Jean, the flyers, had already moved to the door and they jumped outside with the ease of long practice. Rogue carried along an evidence kit with a flashlight, testing equipment, and other tools. They didn't possess the full capabilities of a well trained CSI team, but the more senior team members had received some minor investigative training to help them in situations like this. They weren't sure if this truck was the one they were actually after or not, but if it was, they would want to get as much information from it as they could. Not that this case was ever likely to see time in a courtroom, most of their missions seldom did, but there was always the chance that they might have to call in SHIELD or someone with real legal authority if it turned out that whoever grabbed Logan and Remy's team was a real threat to more than just the X-men. If that call had to be made, it was best to be as thorough and prepared as possible to avoid any embarrassment later.

The pair of ladies settled down next to the white truck and took a look around. As Fallen had said earlier the truck did look abandoned and it was true that there was no one nearby. Jean ran a quick mental scan of the surrounding area just to be sure but all she could pick up was a watchman making his rounds just far enough away for them not to be noticed. It was a bit of a reach to expect that she would be lucky enough to locate their target this way anyhow. It was much harder for her to pick out someone she didn't even know from a crowd.

That same powerful telepathic ability however, did make it possible for the two women to be mentally connected to their compatriots aboard the Lucky Dragon, allowing the whole group to be fully aware of what was going on below. They were still acting as a team even though they were separated from each other by metal and twenty feet of air. Input and suggestions could be given back and forth as the girls worked the scene.

Rogue came up to the driver's side of the truck and took a peek inside. "The driver's side window is rolled down or just plain missing," she observed. "Ah'm betting on missing, Ah can see some bits of broken glass on the floor. There's somethin' that looks like blood here on the door, too. Ah'll test it."

"I'll check the truck bed while you do that," Jean offered, walking to the back of the vehicle. The cap was locked but she opened it easily enough with her telekinesis, the best lock pick you could ask for. It was empty but reeked of vomit, forcing her to cover her nose and mouth. "Bed's empty. Smells like someone was sick in it, though."

Meanwhile Rogue had used a swab from her kit to gently dab at the smear and then dropped some tester on it. It came up purple. "It's positive fer blood. Hope it ain't from one of ours."

"Take a sample, please," Hank suggested from inside the ship, using the afore mentioned mental link. He was also able to watch what was going on down below by way of Lucky's cameras. "If it's one of ours then we'll know this is the truck we want. If not then maybe we might get a name off our DNA files." Hank had been putting together a DNA database of all known mutants, or at least the ones that volunteered to be added. It was complimentary to one SHIELD was also building, though theirs hadn't always been compiled with the consent of the donors. It was a private database that Seth had already hacked and added to Hank's. If this blood was known, it might help to at least point them in a direction where they could start looking.

Rogue had moved on from the bloody door to inside the cab. There wasn't much here, just some fast food trash. She did snag the registration for good measure and took a quick snapshot of it using a digital camera she had on hand. She wouldn't take the document itself, for all they knew they were way off base being here. "We could be wasting our time doing this," she couldn't help but add out loud.

"Better safe than sorry," Scott replied to that, taking full responsibility. "Just don't take anything until we know for sure this is our truck."

"VIN Number's been scratched off," Rogue observed. "This must be stolen."

"I know it is," Jean confirmed. She had dared to actually climb inside the semi-fouled truck cab and found not only more blood but she now held up yet another scrap from Aiden's poor shredded parka. It wasn't a big piece, but it had the unmistakable pink pin striping of the young Red Team on it. "This is our guy. No question."

Scott agreed and he said so. He then ordered, "Okay, we've got our confirmation so all bets are off. Rogue, keep that registration and check under the seats for weapons, anything will do. I want the straws from those fast food cups as well, we'll run them for DNA."

"Will do, boss," she confirmed and go to work.

Scott was still issuing orders. "Fallen, ask Seth to see if he can track down what trains have come through on this track. This truck isn't here by accident. He had to have met up with someone here."

"Aye," Fallen answered easily enough. "But it'll probably take a while. This place looks pretty busy. Who knows how many trains came through here just this morning?"

"We'll sort it out, it has to be done."

Fallen nodded and called up Seth. He came up on one of the quarter views on the Main screen and they could see him fast at work, sorting through streams of data at his desk back at the Complex and sending suggestions back to Fallen. It looked professional enough, but this wasn't something that was going to be quick, Hank knew.

That was okay, he had his own work to do. He had no sooner turned away from the monitor and back to his patient when the small tester next to him pinged, bringing him more bad news. Warren's blood culture had just come back positive for the Flush. They were all now likely infected themselves. Their day wasn't improving.

(break)

Remy was dreaming. He knew it because he recognized where he was. Back before the Arizona Complex had been constructed, the X-men had lived at the large Xavier mansion at Westchester, New York. The property there had been huge and sprawling and as part of the grounds had a three acre flower field in the woods behind the house. At the center of the field was a single large oak tree that held court there, giving its majestic shade to a picnic table that had been a popular place to get away from the hustle and bustle of the house.

The field had been a personal favorite place for Remy ever since he'd had the first of these kinds of dreams of being there. That had been long ago, before Molly, before the kids, but he had dreamed of them being there just the same. It was a place of prophecy for him and one that had only held joy for him. All the times he had dreamed of it, the dreams were always of things he had been wishing for and so far, most of them had come true.

And now, here he was again.

It was early summer as it always was when he dreamed of it, this place had never seen snow in his dreams, probably because it was the thing he hated most in the world and this was a place of perpetual happiness and safety. The sky was clear and blue, not a cloud in sight. The flowers were blooming and fragrant, the buzzing of bees humming close by. Normally, when he dreamed of this place, he would be sitting at the picnic table or sprawled out lazily on a blanket, just taking in the scenery. This time was different.

Here he was running gaily through the flowers, one of his favorite songs thumping merrily from a battery powered boom box nearby – Parlez Nous a Boire by L'il Band of Gold, a Cajun drinking song he had enjoyed on many a drunken occasion. It was peppy and merry and adding to the pure enjoyment of the game he was now playing.

He wasn't alone here. He was chasing someone, a pretty young girl of about six or seven. She was dressed casually in jeans and a pink T-shirt covered with embroidered flowers that matched the blossoms she was running through, a pair of auburn pigtails streaming out from behind her. He knew by her coloring that she wasn't Sandy, the daughter he had now and he knew something else. She was special in some extraordinary way, he just didn't know what. She was nimble and quick, that was for sure, making him work for it.

"Slow down, petite!" he was complaining merrily, growing winded.

"Play the game, slowpoke!" she answered back, not slowing down a bit.

"What game is dat, jolie?" he questioned, slowing to a walk, his sides heaving. He was laughing though, his heart soaring with joy. Even as he spoke the words, he realized that in this case, jolie hadn't been a nickname. It was her name. Jolie.

She dared to come closer to him, playfully taking pity on him. "It's the one where I steal your heart, silly!" she answered, laughing just as hard as he was panting.

He snatched at her then, his tiredness merely a ruse, and he scooped her up into his arms, swinging her around to her delight. "Aw, it's much too late for dat, chere."

He then brought her up to his face for a kiss and when he looked into her eyes, he saw his own black and red ones smiling playfully back at him.

Remy came awake then with a gasp of surprise. He wasn't fully aware by any means, this was no shocked snapping to, this was like crawling through the deepest darkest black after abruptly realizing that you were suddenly falling and had to catch yourself. Even as he waded through a sodden sort of panic towards true consciousness, he tried his best to cling to that bright place he had just come from. His waking mind knew he had been in the flower field again and yet while he couldn't completely recall what had happened there he knew he wanted whatever it had been to come true. He wanted it with all of his heart.

As the bitterness of reality tore the ghostly remnants of that dream apart, information came to him in trickles, more feelings than actual thoughts. It started with one – I have been drugged. What else could explain the heaviness of his limbs and the sluggishness of his mind?

The second realization was – I am not in my bed. Whatever he was lying on wasn't the least bit soft and the warm safe feel of his wife was nowhere to be found.

It was also moving. He felt it at first as a vibration similar to being driven in a car – I am being transported somewhere - but then a rhythmic yet familiar clacking in his ears told him something new and interesting. He was in no car, he was on a train. He had certainly hitchhiked on them in the past enough to recognize it easily. Only, who the heck traveled by train anymore? Eh, whatever. At least it was much warmer in here than it had been in the woods. It was a heated car.

He tried opening his eyes but it seemed like it took forever for them to open just a crack. Muted light came to him but even medicated he was able to tell that it was almost full dark in here, it was only his enhanced ability to see in the dark that made it seem lighter than it was. He could just make out the lump of a body right in front of him. He reached out with his mind and used his other gift, his empathy, to read the shine there that no one else could see.

Julien.

Relief took him for a moment. In order for him to see a shine, that person had to be alive. Julien's was sparkly and bright, he was just sleeping, sedated as Remy had been. They were not alone, the more Remy tried to focus, the more he could separate glimmers of shine-lights all around him. The other kids were here – warm and safe for the moment. Alive.

Just that one fact gave him comfort. If their captors had wanted them dead, they could have done it very easily while they had all been knocked out. This was probably some ransom gig or maybe even some kind of recruitment drive. It had been done this way in the past once or twice – grab a group and try to win a couple of them over for your own team. Even if just one of these prospects defected, it would be a huge loss for Xavier. While they might look harmless, these kids were the potential for tomorrow. Each and every one was valuable in his own way. Well, the whys of things could wait. For now they were all in good shape and that was good start at least.

That thought soon died a quick death when Remy heard a familiar sound. It was the soft snuffly grumbling that Kimble always made when he was waking. Remy knew this of course, because he and the Siskan had lived together for far too long for him not to. At first Remy was relieved once more to know that his favorite Siskan was alive and well, but the sounds of Kimble waking quickly changed to something else.

"No no no no...!" the pilot was saying, his panic growing with each cry of denial.

Remy automatically reached out towards the sound with one arm, their bond was much too strong for him not to react to it in some way, but all he caught was Julien. Wherever Kimble was, he wasn't that close.

"Kimble... where you at...?" the Thief mumbled bleerily. His eyes still struggled to focus and it was warm and stuffy in here. The light at least seemed to be growing brighter. There were windows here, streaming in diffused sunshine through heavily tinted glass.

The only answer was Kimble's continuing sobs of pain from somewhere close by.

Gambit managed to get up on one elbow and with some effort, rose far enough to peek over Julien's shoulder. Kimble was further away than he had thought. They were on a train all right, but not a conventional one. They were not in sections with seats like a traditional passenger car but the large, roomy car was divided into two cell like sections with a walkway in between. Someone had paid good money for this custom made car, it wasn't bars that separated them, but energy fields that crackled with a sparkly glitter and hummed just a bit, giving the warning that it might not be such a good idea to touch them. Kimble was on the other side of the car, separated by two sets of energy fields and pain.

Kimble was sitting on the floor of his own side, Aiden now pulled up into his arms, as lifeless as a rag doll. Aiden was draped there, his back in Kimble's lap and his head flopped bonelessly back over Kimble's arm with his mouth open, his own arm dangling down like something broken. His skin was still deathly pale, his half open eyelids and lips a bit blue as if from a lack of oxygen. His jacket and shirt were in tatters, revealing his pale white chest, something alarming as he was most often slightly tanned. He was utterly still, not breathing, and didn't respond to Kimble's deepest cries of woe as the pilot sobbed with his face against Aiden's neck. He was as dead as Remy had ever seen him, though like Logan had, he still took some hope in that fact that there was a body at all. Anything was better than three dead star drives in a plastic Ziplock bag. That he had no wish to ever see again.

"Kimble... relax.. It'll be okay..." the Thief tried, even though he had no way of being certain about anything right now. He was still half drugged and had no clear idea of just how much danger they might be in. He just needed Kimble quiet so they could figure this out.

"He ain't gots no shine!" Kimble bawled loudly in response and without shame in his misery. "It's all gones!"

Remy grunted even as he knew this to be true, he wasn't so far away that he couldn't see that Aiden's body was as dark as any other inanimate object that was in that cell. Not that Kimble's own shine was terribly bright, he was still weak from having been overloaded by their kidnapper's Taser. He was exhausted and barely hanging on, even without the distress of his beloved being gone.

Still Remy was a bit surprised to see Aiden so badly trashed. Yes, there had been clues back in the forest that something had gone terribly wrong, Aiden never wasted his spikes for frivolous things, but that didn't have to mean he had been killed, right? Why did it seem like things never worked out for these two?

Remy's empathic mind felt Kimble's anguish from across the room, barriers or no barriers, and shared it. One thing about Kimble was that with his more child like personality, his agony was genuine. Kimble, as emotional and immature as he was, did nothing for show, this wasn't a manipulation. This was Kimble's poor wounded heart shattering. It sent a sharp stab of pain right through Remy's chest and brought tears to his eyes.

"Kimble, espere, sil vous plait..." he tried, knowing it was useless. He didn't like being separated from Kimble like this. He couldn't offer any real comfort like he was accustomed to. He knew there was no way Kimble would survive another significant loss intact. Every other time had resulted in breakage and there were already too many people in there as it was. Unlike the last time Kimble had shattered, there were no repairmen around. If Kimble broke this time, done was done and they would just have to deal with it. It was something Remy had no desire to face.

"I didn't ever wants no squad!" Kimble complained through choking sobs. He didn't care that they had been kidnapped and were being taken away. He didn't care that this was a mission and that he should be acting like a professional. All he cared about was now lying lifeless and cold in his arms. "I ain't never wanted this!"

Remy said the only thing that he could, not because it was helpful, but because it was honest. "You can't change people, cher. He woulda gone anyways, wit or wit'out you, you know dat."

Kimble just pulled Aiden's body that much closer, cheek to cheek now as he sobbed to his poor lifeless lover, "You promised you wouldn't never leaves me..!"

Remy closed his eyes again, sick now and unable to keep watching this play out in front of him. There was nothing like Kimble's pain, no worse thing. It would have been just as bad to watch one of his twins lose the other, the Siskans were that close. Kimble had lost so much over the years and in even more so in the time that Remy had known him personally. It was part of the reason why he was so child like, it was like there was less and less of him each time he suffered such a hard loss and it was agony to be here to see it yet again.

The Thief could hear the others stirring some around him, Kimble's hysterics were loud enough to wake the dead. Listening to them, Remy tried to do a headcount by sound. Julien was still sleeping in his grasp and Hercules was jerking, snorting some as he thrashed a bit in waking. Someone coughed and retched behind him, it sounded like Dewy. Remy wasn't that surprised, the lad had always had a weak stomach. He could puke just from a good hard run, never mind having been poisoned like this. Grace was quietly comforting someone, Izzie most likely.

But then came a sound that was most welcome. Remy opened his eyes again and turned back to where Kimble was. It was like some magical transformation had taken place – Aiden was now suddenly awake, thrashing and gasping for air like he had just come up from drowning, his shine not only firmly back in place as it should be but inexplicably double bright and tinged with a golden yellow, a color Remy had never seen there before. It didn't mean he couldn't guess why it might be there.

Kimble had once been in charge of taking care of an infant he had found, a baby girl he named Angel. He had raised that child from a baby to a beautiful seven year old girl, full of life and fun. Even from the beginning, they all had known she was an unusual child though no one knew for sure in what way. She was precocious and far more mature than her short years could explain. When she had been murdered Aiden had been there. As her body had died, golden energy had sprung from it in the shape of a ball and Aiden had been there to catch it. It absorbed into his body on contact and he had been altered enough by it that his Mark had changed color from Blue to the Gold. Aiden had so far refused medical testing and so not much was known about what else about him might be different. Most of the time, Remy had forgotten about all that happened, but now it flashed through his mind with some force. What the hell was going on?

Kimble, in his relief, garbled something in hysterical Siskan and in spite of Aiden's obvious distress, pulled the Dreamer right up close and swallowed his gasps in a deep passionate kiss.

Where this might have made the situation worse for a normal oxygen deprived human, on Aiden it had the exact opposite effect – he calmed at once like a hungry infant given its mother's breast and he swooned there, returning the kiss with just as much enthusiasm.

Golden glitter sparkled brightly from Aiden's hands in response to his happiness, something else that caught Remy's eye. Unlike the golden glow, this wasn't the first time Remy had seen this. The glitter was called Morrowhiem and was an extreme manifestation of Aiden's Kundatesh empathy. Most of the Siskans the X-men possessed had this ability. Of course seeing it now reminded Remy that the first time he had seen Aiden use this, his glitter had been red, just as it was with the other Siskans who had this particular talent. After Aiden's Mark had changed color the glitter had also changed color and his was now the only one like it. Remy had meant to question him on it, but like everything else, it had fallen to the wayside. He would have to rectify that. There were too many secrets here than he was comfortable with.

"Okay, that I didn't need to see," Hercules grumbled from behind Remy, complaining about the kiss and shifting away so he wouldn't have to look. While Hercules was never that open about it, Remy had long known that the green skinned young man was somewhat homophobic. It wasn't so much that he was grossed out by what two men might do in play, it was more like he viewed them as weaker somehow, this in spite of both Siskans' well known athleticism. Seeing Kimble bawl over Aiden like a hysterical girl had only reenforced Hercules' notion that Kimble was weak, his shine just screamed it, and Remy could hear it loud and clear.

At least, so far, the other kids didn't seem to be so put off by Kimble's outburst even though this was the first time the pair had ever dared to be so demonstrative in front of the squad. They were not publically affectionate by habit, regardless of where they were or who they were with, something that was more of Kimble's idea as he still feared what people thought of him. Aiden could have cared less but he played along for Kimble's sake. It simply wasn't worth fighting over.

"I think it's romantic," came the soft voice of Izzie. She was still young and sweet, always accepting of everyone without question. She had also been kidnapped by Jason Frost as Julien had, but the fiery preacher's sermons and the rough life hadn't touched her as it had Remy's son, she was still optimistic and in love with the world in spite of all she had been through.

Dewy just groaned and retched again.

"Hercules," Gambit said next, using the codename as a precaution. Although he couldn't see anything so obvious there was always the possibility that they were being watched via cameras. "Deal us a hand, sil vous plait."

The kids had drilled and drilled back home, and what had seemed like stupid empty routines then were now coming back to help them. Remy had called certain exercises by the terms associated with card games just in case, as in situations like this, they might be overheard. He had just asked Malcolm to do a head count.

Remy waited for his reply, but it was TrueBlood who promptly answered, "Jack of Diamonds, Two of Clubs, the Ace of Spades and Diamonds on the table."

Remy just smiled in exasperation with the result, of course it would be this way. The cards on the table were the ones missing. Kyle and Logan were unaccounted for but also Tink. Tiny little Tink was easy for the enemy to overlook. Their diminutive teammate was probably still tucked away Dewy's Away Pack and with any luck, remained unknown to their captors. Tink was small but she was bright and crafty. She could be their ace in the hole so to speak. Of course the other one missing was Gryfon. Remy could only hope he was elsewhere on the train, attacking the poor slobs who had taken them and getting them out of this mess. There wasn't much hope of that of course, seeing as how the last thing Remy remembered was that little ratfuck flying away into the trees like a coward.

What was most disappointing to Remy at the moment was that TrueBlood had been the one to answer his request, not Hercules. It didn't take much to see the answer why, he knew it just by reading Hercules' emotional vibrations that were growing stronger by the second – it was handy not having to rely on eyesight alone to know what was going on, the empathy was a big plus. Hercules, though no coward, was terrified and doing his best to hide it behind these off hand remarks. There was some truth in them though, he had turned away from the Kimble and Aiden soap opera that was still playing on in the next cell in disgust and couldn't focus on the job right here and now. Well, at least TrueBlood had had the good sense to be on the ball.

Remy moved, trying to work his legs under himself and succeeded enough that he was on his knees and elbows. It was his head though, that just seemed too heavy to come up off the floor. He pushed up with his arms and with a groan, managed to look up, trying to focus on Aiden and Kimble.

What he saw made him blink twice. The strange golden light of Aiden's shine had spread and taken on a life of its own, enveloping Kimble as they continued to kiss, oblivious to the show they were putting on. Kimble was sobbing in that kiss, unable to contain what he was feeling – terror, joy, relief that his anchor was still alive. The longer they kissed, the more that golden light enveloped them and the stronger Kimble's shine was growing, as if it was feeding him in the same way a bright burst of sunshine would have done. Remy wasn't sure but he thought the golden light was taking its own shape as if it wasn't just a cloud, but a living thing, one he had once known well.

Angel, Shi'ow-ri whispered, her voice trembly with excitement.

Angel's dead, Remy corrected inwardly to that with real sadness at the loss, but his mind wasn't so certain. He had been just as close to that child as Kimble had been and his heart knew otherwise. It was like her soul had just shown itself to him and winked at him as if in play.

Shi'ow-ri just laughed. Is she now?

Remy had no answer to that. He watched as that golden being dissipated and sank into the pair of lovers, fading gradually away and yet, the couple gave no notice of it at all. It was the drugs, Remy reasoned. It had to be. He was still in no condition to even stand. He was probably just hallucinating.

"Zere would be not'ing ever to take me from you, my love," Aiden said, finally breaking off their prolonged kiss to speak to his precious lover. He was keeping his voice low, aware that they were being overheard. It wasn't enough to keep him from saying what needed to be said. "Aiden keepsz hisz promiszesz."

"Dont'cha ever scares me likes that again!" Kimble scolded, breathless from crying so hard. "I thought you wuz gone...!"

"Aiden wasz, but you call to me, my love..." he replied, palming Kimble's cheeks and wiping his tears away. They were both sitting up now, a further sign that Aiden was really okay. "...and Aiden 'eard you from szo far away, me. It will take more zan deat' to keep me from you. Alwaysz."

Kimble shuddered and groaned at that, sagging into Aiden's ready arms, his heart as bruised as bruised could be.

Remy had only a second to even register that faint conversation when it was interrupted by the rude sound of slow hand clapping.

The Thief jerked in alarm, immediately recognizing it as unfriendly and without meaning to, let a small defensive kinetic charge bleed out from his hands onto the floor.

Julien remained quiet, but someone else next to him cried out in surprise and pain, scrambling away after getting a bit of shock from that. These little losses of control were still happening but thankfully this one wasn't that bad. Remy had no time to worry himself about it, his eyes were now on the tall slender form that had now separated itself from the shadows on the back wall. He cursed himself for not having noticed they hadn't been alone, but hey, coming off hard from a bad sedation trip can do that to a guy. Shame though, mistakes like this could get someone killed.

The mysterious hand clapper hadn't been in either cell, but had been against one of the doors of the car, taking advantage of the drugged prisoners and the dim lighting to eavesdrop a bit. When he finally stepped into the light of the hallway, Remy didn't recognize him at all, but Aiden certainly did.

"Ah, we meet again, my szweet," Aiden joked with a short laugh. "Aiden too pretty fo' you to passz up on twizce, eh?"

The man just smiled indulgently and looked down on the pair of Siskans. This was indeed the Mohawked and tattooed assailant from the forest, still shirtless and as dangerous looking now as he had been then. His bare chest was unmarked from what Aiden had done to him and when he laughed, the smile never reached his cold grey eyes. "I am impressed," he spoke in that flawless English. "But pleased to see you are well just the same. Not many people who taste my claws live to joke about it."

With that, he slid two of the long bone claws out from one hand.

"Fuck me...!" Hercules gasped in surprise at that but hushed when Remy hissed at him to be silent.

"What you want wit us?" Gambit demanded next, not happy that this slender young man was giving him his back. He couldn't quite see what was going on. Were those really claws? What the heck did they get messed up in?

He never got his answer. What followed was shocking and loud. Kimble's tear streaked face turned into something quite different as Zander returned with a bang. The Punisher gave no warning but with a loud howl of feral rage, flung himself against the barrier that contained him with enough telekinetic force to rock the train car itself on its wheels. He cared not that Aiden tumbled from him in a tangle of limbs or that he had been trampled on in the process. All Zander cared about at that moment was punishment and revenge.

The kids all began to protest loudly when they slid against one another to one side of the train car as it tipped oh so dangerously, one of the girls was outright screaming in terror until the car eventually righted itself. The tattooed young man in aisle however, stayed as he had been, swaying only slightly to maintain his balance, but nothing more. It was as if violent and terrible things like this happened to him all the time or as if he had lost the ability to be surprised. Of course it could have been the fact that he was hard to injure, his bright shine was proof of that.

"Oh, my. I wouldn't do that again," he purred at Zander, his voice showing no fear. "You might accidently kill one of your little friends."

"The only one I care about is right here with me!" Zander snarled in return, his body still defensively in front of Aiden's. He conjured his sword, the shield flowing neatly around his wrist until it hardened, wicked and deadly, glinting hungrily in the half light. He didn't charge it, not just yet, but it probably wouldn't be long before he did.

Whatever response their visitor might have had was cut off when a small radio clipped to his belt chirped, "Daken! What was that?"

The name was pronounced Dah-ken, sounding even more unusual than it already was, being uttered by such a guttural voice. The man who had spoken it sounded as though he had a mouth full of gravel and teeth, teeth that were as large as the hole where his sense of humor was clearly missing. This was a man in charge and he was not amused.

Daken, the young man now named, was as fearless of that voice as he seemed to be of everything else around him. He was still placid and steady as he lifted the radio to his lips and calmly answered, "An interesting development."

"I want a full report!" the voice on the other end demanded in a harsh growl, clearly hoping to get his way.

"I'll need a moment," Daken replied, still unfazed, and simply clicked off the device before further orders could come. He gave Zander a considering look, this Siskan who stood before him, an impatient bundle of barely contained fury. "You sound different now from the one who cries. You look the same and yet... you are not. You are a man with two voices and only one face. I saw your skin go pale with no color and yet, color has once again returned. And your friend..." he was looking at Aiden now. "You two are not even fully alive, are you?"

Zander just grinned at him, showing plenty of fang. "Oh, yer a regular genius, ain'tcha, boy? Sharpest tool in yer little ole shed."

"Don't blame ze boy if 'e a leetle szlow," Aiden joked with Zander, rising from the floor and dusting off from being dumped so rudely. He slid the tattered remains of his ruined parka and shirt off of his shoulders as he bragged, "I did szpike him pretty good b'fore 'e lay me down."

"Boys," Remy chided from his own cell. He had managed to find his feet and was up now, swaying slightly more from the motion of the moving car now than from being sick. "Ain't no need to pick on de boy on account he mebbe got a few issues, y'all." He was keeping his voice light, but at the same time, he was making small hand signals to the kids behind them, asking for their patience and calm. He didn't want them to worry just yet. He addressed their captor, continuing to joke, "I can understand how a po' boy like you might need someone to talk to, what wit bein' distressed and all over yo' 80's haircut and last year's tats, but really, dere's a hotline for dat. Number's right in de book. You coulda just dropped us a line wit'out 'avin' to go t'rough all dis fuss just for some therapy, hien?"

Daken looked over his shoulder back at him, his smile growing though the laughter still never reached his cold dark eyes. "You fancy yourself a comedian. How interesting. It's been my experience that most people who joke around in high stress situations do so to cover their own cowardice."

It was Remy's turn to smile a smile no warmer than Daken's had been. "Now who's bein' funny? How about you make up fo' bein' all deluded and let us go b'fore we forced to make you dead, d'accorde?"

"That is quite impossible, I assure you," Daken promised, turning his head halfway back towards Zander, keeping an eye on them both.

"You see this here belt?" Zander questioned, wanting the man's full attention as he patted the belt around his waist. "It's got nice neat teeny little notches on it. Soon, it's gonner haves one just fer you."

Daken's smile grew into something more genuine, recognizing with respect that the threat was honest. This creature had killed before just as surely as he himself had. It was in the nasty little glint in his eye that matched the one in his own. Still he replied with laughter in his voice, "This is a Starktech 3000 prisoner transport car, top of the line, just as SHIELD uses for its worst offenders. You and your pretty little friend there will remain nice and safe, just as you are."

Zander was unimpressed. "Well, we'll just sees about that, won't we?"

In a flash, Zander charged his sword and with a wide sweep of well muscled arms, thrust it point first as hard as he could into the shimmering barrier in front of him. It hit the shield with a loud bang, making quite the racket, but didn't shatter the shield as Zander had hoped. That didn't mean it wasn't having any effect – the sword itself began to smoke and melt as part of it slowly dissolved into the energized field. The shield accepted the intruder, actually warping and melting, glowing bright as all those strange energies melded and blended together. It bellied out like molten glass, glowing whiter and whiter, expanding out as it grew larger from Zander's push. The sword was feeding it, or at least hopefully overloading it. The combination of noise and light was frightening, a demonic display that matched the anger and frustration on Zander's twisted face as he put everything he had into it, straining as the large muscles in his arms bunched and flexed from the effort.

Aiden watched this with a mixture of awe and horror. He was impressed with the display, he had no idea that the sword could hold as much plasma energy as all that, but he would rather have had Zander save his best weapon as a surprise for later. He didn't realize of course that Zander had already tried to use the sword against Daken earlier though he hadn't charged it then. He certainly had the young man's attention now. Still, as much of an as eyeful as this was giving off, Aiden had his doubts that this was going to work.

Daken took a cautious step back, finally experiencing something that had actually surprised him. He was patient though, and didn't make any attempt to stop this until he noted that the control panel for the shield on that side of the car was starting to smoke. The overhead lights, dim as they were, began to flicker as well.

Remy wasn't nearly so willing to let such a golden opportunity pass him by. He reached into one of his roomy jacket pockets and found a collection of loose metal objects that he often kept stashed there in case he needed something quick and easy to charge with kinetic energy. It was the same as being perpetually armed and he was thankful that when the team had been moved from the forest to the train that they hadn't been searched. His mind went through his stash of items quickly – ball bearings? No, they might bounce back at the kids. He needed something pointed just as Zander's sword had been. Ah, yes. He had two throwing stars and after selecting them, he took them out and charged them as much as dared, tossing them against his own barrier, hoping to overload the already challenged system. Surely both panels had to be interconnected in the car they shared.

Even as he let his own missiles fly, he was momentarily blinded as beside him, Trigger let loose with two large bolts of electricity from his hands in combination, lightning strikes for real. Remy was momentarily filled with elation, the lad had acted without being ordered, following his example promptly, just as they had trained for.

Their actions were not without result. Stars struck and bolts hit. There was a loud boom to match the one Zander had made on his end and the car went abruptly black as all the lights went out. The barrier in front of him flickered and appeared to go out as well so Remy let out a cry of victory. He took two steps forward, ready to take Daken on and get this over with but that was as far as he got. There was a brief flash of orange yellow as hazard lights came on revealing clouds of smoke in the air. It was followed instantly by a hiss of gas. Remy's throat constricted and he stumbled clumsily to his knees, coughing. Trigger collapsed alongside him, choking as he gasped out curses that could hardly be understood.

Remy's outstretched hand hit the screen in front of him and he realized that though it had stopped shimmering, the containment field was still firmly in place. His mind went all grey and fuzzy, his sight going but his ears still able to hear the sound of the kids coughing from all around him, they were all going down. So close and yet so far.

"Silly children," came Daken's voice from somewhere in the fog. "I did say this was prisoner transport car, did I not? Of course it would be equipped to handle the likes of you."

The gas may have affected the humans in the group, Daken with his healing factor aside, but the Siskans weren't organic and stood as they had been. The gas didn't hinder either of them in the least. Zander still had his sword ensnared in his own barrier, still letting it have all he had though he was nearly spent from the effort. This had taken too much time, time they did not have. The shield was still holding but probably not for long, Zander could wear it down as long as nothing else stood in his way.

Daken watched this, a perplexed frown on his face. He had expected the Siskans to go down with the gas like the others had but they had not. No, in fact the possibility remained that Zander who was still at work, might even win his battle. It was time to stop this.

Daken didn't have any option but one. He was still armed with the Taser and even though it was risky for him to touch the overcharged barrier himself, he aimed it at the point where Zander's sword was still melting into the barrier and took a shot. The points from the Taser flew out as directed and connected to the exact spot where Zander's sword had fused with the shield. Energy flew out in a deadly arc and added its own chaos to the mess.

Aiden, seeing the danger, tried to dislodge Zander's hands from his sword but it was already too late. The shield had taken one dose of energy too much and finally failed with a loud bang, but not before sending a charged backlash through the two Siskans that took them out neat as you please. Zander made inhuman howling noises of pain as his hands literally melted around the hilt of the sword he still grasped even as he fell, his skin flickering wildly in and out, grey to color and then grey again. Aiden's matched it in a kaleidoscope of color, changing from male to female, to shapes it hadn't used in a long while as Aiden mainly used the two skins he loved best. The pair of Siskans crumpled to the floor in a reckless tangle of artificial appearances, thrashing about intertwined as if in crude imitation of the love they had made only just last night, only this time without the pleasure or joy being shared.

Daken missed most of the show, having ducked to cover his face as sparks flew about everywhere. He felt them burn the bare skin of his arms but he cared not. His job was done, he had heard the pair of troublesome creatures go down so gracelessly and knew they had at the very least been stunned. When the noise had died and the smoke cleared a bit, he saw that they were much more than that, both were as lifeless as Aiden had been when he had been brought aboard.

Well, he had been correct. It had been an interesting development after all.