(Three)

Remy's eyes fluttered at the muted sound of hoofed feet clopping towards his bed. It came at him in waves, like ripples. It was the medication, he knew this. Henry had doped him up to the gills. He startled slightly when a warm hand brushed his face. "Asher..." he breathed, knowing this more from the vibration of serenity than by the sounds the Siskan had made in arriving.

"How ya doin', kitten?"

Gambit was feeling far too good to really wake. " 'M 'kay."

"That's real good."

Remy was dimly aware that Asher was doing more than standing there, his hands were busy, pulling back the blankets and opening his pajama top to the chilly hospital air. "Was 'y doin'?" was all he could manage to slur.

"Jus' relax, kitten. Jus' wants ta makes sure fer m'self that yer really okay."

Remy was in no position to argue. It felt nice, really. Asher's warm hand on his chest, making heated circles as his fingers passed over him, moving closer and closer to the left, over his heart. The bruise there was huge and ugly, yet the centaur's touch was gentle, there was no pain. Remy's eyes opened a bit wider and he took a quick breath, trying to wake.

"Lie still, kitten. Yer good, just there's a little bit of an ache left in here."

"Aiden... 'e say you can't heal de flesh. What you doin'?"

Asher stilled him easily by placing his other hand over his forehead, gently pushing him back on the pillow. The centaur leaned in close, his breath sweet as he whispered, "What's hurtin' ya ain't flesh. Yer Charles is a good man, he seen some truths in you. You should listens ta him more."

"Eh?"

"He convinced ya ta come back, but that's only half the job. I'm here ta helps ya finish it."

Remy grunted in protest, but wasn't really fighting. The warm circles over his chest had continued throughout and he could feel a strange heat rising from his skin. It was delicious and mesmerizing, he liked it too much to try and move away.

Asher was still speaking. "Have ya fergiven yerself, kitten?"

Remy closed his eyes in silent negation, his shine sparkling with agitation. It was a refusal.

"Do ya believes in yer Jesus?"

Remy's eyes opened a crack at that, he wasn't sure of the change in tack. "Bien sur, you know I do."

Asher's blue grey eyes met his own, smiling down at him while his hand continued to make those slow, lovely circles over his chest. "Then ya knows he wuz the Lamb of God. That he wuz sacrificed in atonement fer our sins. Ya believes in that?"

Remy nodded and answered truthfully, "Oui."

"Then if ya believes that, ya gots ta believe that when he sacrificed himself - sumpthin' he done of his own free will - he done it ta redeems evraone, not just a few. Not just fer the pretty or the perfect." Asher's words had all of his usual confidence, his conversation with Logan had restored and refreshed his faith, giving him the strength to speak now without doubt. "He done that sos we'd all knows that redemption wuz possible fer anaone, fer sinner an' saint alike. Jesus meant it wuz possible fer you, too. That you ain't no different."

The thief closed his eyes again. "Non. Not for me. Not fo' a killer."

"Yes, fer you, too," Asher insisted gently. "All redemption takes is remorse fer yer actions and a little fergiveness. If ya feels bad about what ya done and means nots ta do it again, you'll be fergiven. The remorse ya gots down good, but ya been hangin' on to that guilt an' shame fer far too long. I b'lieve maybe yer thinkin' ya won't be yerself without it. That it defines ya. Well, it don't. What defines ya is who and how ya loves. What defines ya is what ya do, them good an' helpful things you've done since then. All them lives you been savin'."

Remy opened his eyes again at that. He had been told this many times of course, but never in exactly that way. He couldn't stop a vibration of emotion that left him, he was far too weak to control anything.

Asher's fingers continued their careful and loving movements, warming the stricken X-man's skin. "Ever since ya done that terrible thing, ya seen yerself as evil. You knows what evil is? What it is fer real? It's a lack of compassion. How kin ya say you ain't gots compassion? Please! You sacrificed so much of yerself fer other people without not one thought fer yer own safety - or that of yer heart. You gave up so much fer Kimble, it's a scar on ya anaone kin sees if they's looked hard enough. Why? Cuz ya desire peace above all other things. You ain't never wanted no money or power, you wants peace not war, an' that my very dear friend, is the mark of a good man. There ain't no evil in you, there ain't never been."

"Non..." Remy groaned, some small part of him trying to fight this. It was losing, falling down under the weight of Asher's truths.

"You hafta looks inside an' sees yerself for what you are — just a simple man who made a mistake." Remy moaned again, a tear slipping out of one eye. "Shh..." Asher breathed, coming closer to kiss him. The circles Asher was making intensified, Gambit could feel the centaur's fingers pushing against him, right around where it hurt so deeply inside. "Let it go, kitten. You kin lets it all go. Gives it to me. I'll keeps it for ya. Lets it go."

Remy swooned, his eyes closing once more as the Morrowhiem finally left Asher's clever fingers and sparkled into him. It was the medication, it was the heat, he didn't know which, but he felt that magic course right through him like a flame. He didn't resist it this time. His body's reaction was swift, he was trembling and shaking, his heart was speeding up, but this time with no pain. He was exhilarated, filled with angelic grace and magic. All the guilt and sadness vanished in an instant, banished away like the foolishness it had always been. There was a bright flash of light as the Morrowhiem ignited and Remy jerked as his body was rocked by an earth shattering orgasm, a soft cry jumping from his mouth to Asher's who bent to receive it with another purposeful kiss.

The physical part of Asher's treatment was secondary, not the point, and ended quickly, it was Gambit's mind that was left reeling. It had been one thing to watch this happen to another, but something quite different to feel it for himself. Loopy giggles leaked out of him and he was soaring, no longer feeling his body. He had risen above it into the light, feeling Asher's loving glow all around him. In here, there were no bodies for real, so Asher's presence was one Remy sensed as that of a normal human, a genderless body that wrapped around him easily, a ghostly spirit filled only with the purest love. Funny, Remy had thought he had to have actual intercourse with a Siskan to achieve this level of intimacy, to get to the blending of souls, but he had just been proven wrong.

"Yer so beautiful, kitten," Asher was now saying. "Inside an' out. Kin ya sees it? Fer real?"

"Oui," Remy answered, feeling stronger now, invigorated. This wasn't his physical body he was in after all. "S'all better now."

"Good," Asher said with a smile of pure joy. "Feel this grace and enjoy it. Jus' remember that this grace, even though it's vera real, don' mean yer work here is done. There are always wrongs ta be put right, messages ta be sent to them what needs ta hears it. Don' be afraid, yer time that remains is gonna be busy indeed. Busy enough ta keeps a scoundrel likes you outta trouble."

Remy snickered at that, still lost in Asher's Morrowhiem loaded dream, still happily adrift. "D'accorde, mon ami. Je promets."

Asher smiled, satisfied. "Good 'nough. Times ta wake."

Remy came awake suddenly, feeling heavy now. He was back in his bed, back in his physical body, and Asher was tugging on him, shifting his sloppy boneless weight with ease as he cleaned up the small mess he had caused the thief to make. Gambit was like a child, too weak to even protest the fact that he felt like an infant, having someone wipe him clean.

Asher didn't notice or care, he simply put things to rights and was then buttoning up Remy's shirt, pulling the blankets up snugly around him. Remy grabbed at him drunkenly, capturing his hand. He felt wonderful, his mind whitewashed bliss. "What you do to me?" he finally managed to gasp.

Asher beamed that radiant smile down on him once more, an adolescent angel trapped in a horse's body. "I reset ya," he answered as if it had been obvious.

Remy grunted a laugh. "M' not Siskan."

Asher just grinned and kissed him again, leaving that sweet Siskan taste in his mouth, before replying, "Sez who?" He patted Remy's head gently, brushed a lock of auburn hair from his eyes. Asher bent as if for another kiss, but instead he whispered softly in closing, a name with emphasis, "...Nebannon." He then slipped away, almost as silently as he had come. Like he'd never been there at all.

Remy closed his eyes and dreamed.

He was in the flower field, the one left behind in Westchester. He was on a picnic blanket, laying down and sprawled comfortably in the heat of summer. His eyes were closed, all he sensed was sound and smell. The buzzing of bees, the heady scent of flowers, the laughter of his children, the steady heartbeat of someone who held him, his head cradled upon their breast. He knew instinctively that it was Molly. He would always know her touch. But then again, he'd had this dream before. Long ago, when he had been hurt and Kimble was lost, he had dreamed this dream. It filled him with happiness now as it had then. He deserved this, he had earned it. It was his and would not be given up for anything, certainly not his guilt and sadness. It was over, he was finally free. He grumbled some endearment and she grasped him tightly, driving him to an even deeper sleep, the sound of his children's laughter enveloping him.

(break)

It was late when Fallen finally touched down in the Lucky Dragon. She had been flying quite a bit the past few hours, ferrying specialists back and forth for Henry and picking up additional medical supplies. It was well after midnight now and she was tired and sore, ready to find her bed and crash. Of course before she could even consider that, it was time to collect Seth.

Fallen hadn't seen Seth at all since he vanished on her, but she had heard plenty about him. It had already begun to spread through the grapevine that he'd had a hand in blowing up Jael's ships. As much as it upset her that he had taken off, she couldn't argue that it hadn't been without good reason. He had been a big help and everyone was telling her how proud she should be of him.

Fallen eventually found him down in Security, sleeping at the watch desk for the holding cells, a blanket around his shoulders and a small plate of untouched food in front him. He had been babysitting Simone who was now quiet and sleeping down at the end of the hallway. Seth looked as tired as she was and she was reluctant to wake him, but it was time to go home. One of Logan's people would take his place at the watch desk once he was gone.

She opted to disturb him as little as possible and lifted him piggy back onto her back using her telekinesis, something he was familiar with. He wrapped his arms around her automatically, waking just enough to know she was there.

"Mistress..." he breathed happily, holding her and sending out a powerful vibration of love she could feel.

She smiled, happy to know it, and headed for the doorway and out into the hallway. "You were very brave today," she said, keeping her voice low. "Everyone had such nice things to say about you."

He laughed softly without opening his eyes. "I promise I won't do it again."

"Good," she replied, taking his hand and kissing it. She brought them home and to bed. Funny thing, when she left their humble apartment this morning, it was with the idea that she might never see it again. That worry was now gone, replaced by a solid lasting peace. Jael was gone, he would never haunt them ever again.

Seth wrapped himself around her tightly, and though he had always been a light sleeper, was soon out cold and breathing softly against her. He had echoed her thoughts in his own mind and the big heavy fear that had hung over him ever since he had learned of the Game was gone.

Fallen held him and let sleep take her, happy just to hold him and have the freedom of an open future ahead of her. Now that Jael was gone, they were free to be who they were and simply live life to its fullest, where ever it might take them.

(break)

Fallen wasn't the only one tired. Henry was exhausted, running on empty himself. He had gotten most of his patients squared away and now that the specialists had come and were taking over things for a bit, he was ready for a break. In all the time he had been working his patients, one of his charges had never left his mind. It was time now to see to her.

Beast made his way to the rear of his Lab, past the isolation room where Remy lay sleeping, where Kimble and Aiden lay on their gurney sleeping peacefully now, cheek to cheek and wrapped up tight. He walked past them and also past the ad hoc bed he had made for Asher nearby. Not having anything large enough for the centaur, he had piled several blankets and pillows on the floor. One tonic later and the boy was out cold himself, finally taking the rest he so desperately needed. Smee was there, reunited with his precious Master and curled in the crook of one of his arms. All was well again.

Henry moved past all of them to where one last Siskan remained to be looked in on. Star was still in her holding cell, curled up tight in a snarl of blankets and pillows, but he could see her eyes were open. She was still awake. He rapped his knuckles lightly against the wall to get her attention.

She turned to look at him, a complicated series of expressions crossing her face. She was tired, she was sad, but most of all, she was happy to see him, her new widening smile evidence of that. "You comes to sees me."

"I promised you I would."

"I thought maybe you wuz mad at me."

"For helping my friend? Never. I think a proper thanks is in order so I brought you something. I hope you like it."

He cleared the security screen from her door and entered, his hands full of take out bags from the Bistro. The Complex's most favorite restaurant was run not by mutants, but by human sympathizers who had not participated in the day's battle. Once cleared by the Professor, the owners had gone right back to work, preparing food for free for anyone who asked. The truth be told, with so many dead, there was plenty of food to spare. It would just go bad anyway. Henry had ordered his most favorite dishes and decided he could think of no one else he would rather share them with.

Star watched him unpack the food cartons with great interest, her appetite surging with all of the great smells he had brought with him. She was smiling now, all of her worries about him being upset with her vanishing. How could he be angry? He had brought her the most wonderful looking assortment of Italian delicacies - lasagna, pasta premavera, fresh bread sticks and salad, and a small carafe of wine. But as much as the food intrigued her, she was just as interested in the man serving it. She couldn't take her eyes off of him.

Beast was not unaware of her scrutiny. Being as big and blue as he was, being looked over was far from uncommon. She seemed more curious than most and he couldn't help but smile. He paused in his food distribution duties, raising a playful eyebrow at her. "Yes?"

Star startled, unsure if she had been rude with her staring. "Sorry."

"You can ask the question if you like."

Star smiled then. "Why are ya so blue?"

Beast laughed. "It was arrogance. I erred and God humbled me. The best thing he could have done really. I might have wasted my time on loftier pursuits and these wonderful people would have lost a fine doctor."

Star laughed softly, not getting all of that. She didn't understand the folly of experimenting on oneself with terrible outcomes so she simply said the truth, the thoughts that had been deep in her mind ever since he had sent her away. "I likes ya blue. Yer not likes everyone else."

It was a true statement. All of her previous owners had been warriors, tall and proud and never concerned with others. They were rough and cold, not people who vibrated such love and a willingness to sacrifice themselves to others. The difference appealed to her in so many ways. This man would never hurt her.

He grinned at her, used to such bold statements of affection coming from Siskans. Asher and Seth had made their feelings for him quite plain, none of them meaning anything more than a strong yet platonic friendship. He wasn't sure how serious she was so he chose to take it lightly, laughing as he replied, "Thank you."

The food was finally set out and they began to eat. Beast couldn't help but smile, Star was making the most wonderful sounds of joy as she clearly enjoyed what she'd been given. "I take it Jael never served you Italian?"

Star's smile dimmed some. "He had a guy who cooked mostly Clan food. I didn't likes it so much. It was just as well, he didn't really eats with me. He used me fer other things."

Beast nodded, noting her melancholy. "You didn't like him?"

"Not really. He didn't ever really loves me."

Henry nodded with some understanding. "If only I had a dollar for every time a Siskan told me that, I'd be a rich man. Now that you are free, do you have any idea what you might want to do?"

"I don't wants to be free. I wants a Master who will loves me with all of his heart. Someone big and strong who will swallow me up in his arms and keeps me warm and safe ferever," she answered, looking at him directly, hoping to make her point. She had liked Remy sure, but now that she had seen the emotional fragility in him, was sliding her favor more Henry's way. He was so very strong, stable.

Henry wasn't all that surprised by her answer, even Asher hadn't taken to the idea of not having a Master. Asher had claimed Remy as his own whether the thief wanted it or not. What made Beast a bit nervous was the way Star was looking at him, as though her decision about who was going to own her had already been made. He couldn't fathom it, they had known each other less than twelve hours, hardly long enough to know each other well. Not to mention it had been under stressful circumstances. The girl was reaching out to the nearest thing that resembled safety and he didn't want to see her hurt. He would keep watch over her, yes, but he would have to be very careful.

There was another reason, of course, one that was buried deep in his own mind, though it was whispering to him now. He couldn't say the last time he had been in a real relationship. Heck, he couldn't even recall his last fling or one night stand, or if there had even been one since his transformation. The last time he'd had sex? Whew.. he would have to seriously clear some dust to figure that one out. Henry shivered a little. Sex. How could he be thinking such a thing about this tiny pretty little creature here? Surely he would hurt one such as her with his passion. He was so much larger than her.

Star blinked at him, her pale orange eyes seeking his own. She could see most of that in his shine and knew that like this kind and gentle doctor, she would have to be careful and proceed slowly. What gave her hope was that he wasn't completely opposed to the idea of being with her, he was simply afraid and shy. She was an experienced Courtesan, brought into being by the finest of Masters creators, she could do this. She took a breath and calmed, silently projecting that inner peace out to her would be Master in an invisible cloud of benevolent empathy, hoping to ease the idea of it into his own mind.

Beast felt it, he had received too much training over the years not to, but at the moment was too tired to seriously fight it. There was a voice in his mind, not one sent by Star, but one from his own heart. Didn't he at least deserve to have some attention centered on him for once, to have someone interested in him personally and not as a professional or for his vast knowledge? It was nice to have this idea of someone actually wanting him for him, and for no other reason. Tired now, he allowed the intrusion, finding it not all that unwelcome.

"You know," he dared to continue, emboldened by his own thoughts. He was nervous, his heart hammering in his chest though his hands were steady, the hands of a surgeon that never showed fatigue or even the flushed anxiety of a very shy man. "...we humans have certain rituals we use to get to know one another better. It's called dating. When this all calms down I could take you to the Bistro itself. It's a very nice place and easier on the eyes than this little room of yours."

Star was quick, so she was. Her smile was huge. "And this goin's ta eats, that would be a 'dating'?"

Beast laughed, he could help it. "It would be a date, yes."

"I would likes that vera much. When would we goes?"

Henry had to stop and think about this. He still had a great many patients, not to mention the fact that he needed to squeeze some sleep in there somewhere. "Tomorrow, for supper, I suppose. I could be free then."

"It's tomorrow already," Star teased with a short laugh, making him smile again. It was well after midnight now, her internal clock never lied.

"So it is. Then today," he replied, warmed by her simple charm. She was doing her very best to make this easy for him, to set him at ease.

Their little meal, now finished, was interrupted by a soft knock on the outside of Star's door. A nurse stood there, looking in on them with the strangest of smiles on her face. "I hate to disturb you, Dr. McCoy," she said, her eyes merry. "But Dr. Mayhew needs a word with you."

Henry nodded. Dr. Mayhew was the burn specialist he had sent for and a good friend. It was time to get back to work. He stood up, his body stiff and sore, but at least no longer hungry. He smiled down at Star, "I have to go, but I'll come get you later."

"For our date," she confirmed, unintentionally bringing a soft chuckle from the nurse.

Beast blushed, or at least as much as he could under all that fur. He felt like a teenager all over again, shy to have anyone know that there was anything going on here beyond a simple friendship. "I'll come for you around six. I'll see to it that you have some proper clothes and a chance to clean up."

"Thanks."

Beast gathered the remains of their meal and left, unable to stop the smile that had fixed itself to his face. He was walking on air, thrilled in a way he hadn't felt for a long time. He felt young again in a pleasantly silly way, hopeful now for a future that Jael could no longer take away. He knew it would get around that he was interested in Star, the giggling nurse beside him pretty much assured that, but at the moment, he simply didn't care.

(break)

The next morning, after a deep night's sleep, Logan was feeling well rested and making his rounds. He was feeling pretty chipper - Jael was gone, the X-men had survived to see another day. Life didn't get any better than that. Yeah, they had suffered some losses, but he was confident that those wounds would heal over time, they always had.

He checked in on Simone who was quiet for now. Neal Sharra, their last remaining plasma producer, had survived the fight above and had been recruited for another perilous duty – feeding the renegade Siskan. Simone had proven to be quite accepting of his provider of sustenance, as long as Neal was content to feed him and then leave. Simone wasn't interested in making friends. Neal had fed him twice over the night and Simone was now sleeping and quiet, healed from the injuries that he had caused himself. He had been busy though – he had stripped the bed in his cell and shredded both the mattress and blankets, creating a mound of debris that he used to hide himself away under. Right now, as long as he was being quiet, Logan could care less what he did with his bedding.

Logan moved onto the higher level security holding cells where Skye and his crew were being held. These guys were a real concern, they were deadly killers each and every one. He was torn – should they be kept or handed over to SHIELD as soon as possible? A quick reminder that it had been SHIELD who had lost track of Sabretooth in the first place was the answer to that question. The X-men would have to be the custodians of these freaks until something reasonable could be worked out.

Logan walked into the room, taking in the sights. Rogue was at the watch desk, looking decently herself after a night's sleep. Her natural invulnerability had paid off, she looked untouched from yesterday's fighting though he knew she had to have been out in the thick of it, swinging away with her tiny yet mighty fists. She was a scrapper and gave much better than she got, it was why she was on his team and why she was here now on duty. It would take a lot to get past her.

The room she had been in charge of was large and long, consisting of a row of cells that stretched well back. Unlike where Simone was being held, this area was a jail for real and there were at least twenty good sized rooms here for the unruly, all with varying degrees of security. Logan had been quick yesterday after his fight with Famayalin, and had dumped Skye and his crew into the first three rooms in the row and the ones closest to the watch desk. These rooms didn't have bars, that was for the meek and mild mannered variety of freaks like Simone. Here the first four cells had solid clear barriers of plastic laced with energy filaments, they couldn't be broken, scratched or smashed. The barriers were well ventilated, they had silver dollar sized air holes to allow some fresh air to enter and to assist in verbal communication – so long as the subject was good. Further down the hall, the cells were energy screens only and much more confining. The ones beyond that were even more elaborate, including straps and sedation tables and even gas. The worse you were, the deeper into this newly built prison you went.

Logan had come to see how his charges were faring and he wasn't disappointed. The freak show was in full production when he arrived. Kristalay was in his cell and the furthest away, calmly doing a hefty set of pushups, working tirelessly and obviously back to full strength. For reasons Logan wasn't exactly sure of, the sight of it actually came as little surprise, all things considered. Logan had had plenty of time to think about his half brother and it came to him that Kristalay's resilience was no fluke. His insanity was deep rooted and permanent, but then the guy was what men had made of him. So many times the guy had tried to fight it only to find himself once more in a position where he was caged and exploited, just like Skye had done. Unlike Logan's grin and bear it attitude, Kristalay was a survivor first, no matter what the cost. The feral animal inside of him had helped him stay alive. How could anyone really blame him for being a monster when he was really what others had made of him? The only real debate left was what to do with the freak.

Kristalay wasn't the only monster here. Skye stood easy in the middle cell of the threesome, dressed in his red haired male skin and leaning against the clear security screen of his cell. He was checking out the room or most notably, checking out Rogue who was at the watch desk. He was eating her up with eyes and wasn't even trying to hide it, not even the least bit put off that she was ignoring him completely, her nose in a book.

The freakiest freak was Famayalin of course. He had recovered from Logan's savage treatment and his cell had been cleaned. The night log showed he had kicked up a fuss about that and had had to be restrained, but he had sicked up too much blood for it to be left uncleaned. He was still restless and unquiet now, naked and throwing a strange sort of tantrum. He was at the front corner of his cell, the wall closest to Skye's cell next door. Famayalin was crouched at the floor and scrabbling at the reinforced cement, digging for all the world like he actually thought he might accomplish something. He didn't want out exactly, he wanted his Master or to get as close as he possibly could. His face was wet with sweat and tears as he worked, soft growly sobs and barks squeaking out as he dug and dug. It was sickening, reminding Logan of hamsters he had seen in a cage, clawing for all they were worth in spite of getting nowhere. Famayalin had been at it for some time, the floor and the bottom of the wall were wet with blood from his poor shattered claws, claws that regenerated as soon as they were broken.

Logan made a face of disgust. "How long has he been doing that?"

"Since his cell was cleaned. 'Bout four hours or so," Rogue replied. "It's gettin' real old. I been listenin' to that racket all mornin'."

Wolverine nodded with another grunt. He understood her revulsion, but what really turned his stomach wasn't Famayalin's frustrated scrabbling, it was that fact that Skye was ignoring the poor boy entirely, his eyes were on Rogue and no one else. It seemed that Siskan had run out of use for his pet and was looking to move on. Well, Logan thought he might have a thing or two to say about that.

Wolverine stood tall and straight, walking down the row of cells. He stopped in front of Famayalin and kicked the screen with his heel. "Quit the racket, son. No one's listenin'."

Famayalin reacted to the noise, turning on Logan with a vicious snarl and flash of long teeth, biting at the barrier and leaving an ugly splash of bloody, foamy spit like a rabid dog. It made Logan step back, he couldn't help it. The boy's eyes were bloodshot and bruised, making Logan recall that the log had also reported that he hadn't slept at all since he had been brought in. Famayalin was wasted and dangerous, hysterical in his exhaustion. Logan made a mental note to send for some kind of sedative. He couldn't have the kid freaking out all day like this.

Their eyes met, the man and the monster, for a moment and then when Famayalin saw that Logan wasn't going to distract him again, went back to his furious, robotic scratching. Logan grunted in unamused disgust and moved on.

Their little interaction hadn't moved Skye at all. Logan came to where Skye stood, lining up in front of the Siskan freak, a creature who looked him boldly in the eyes without an ounce of fear. Skye had had quite a night. He had been stripped of his cloaking devices and forced to swallow a tracker. While it had been a rough affair and he had been manhandled a bit, it hadn't fazed him much apparently or changed his attitude. He looked like he could step out of his cell at the moment of his choosing, as if he was in control of all this and not Logan.

"Mornin', Skye. Sleep well?" Logan greeted, showing his teeth in a sign of dominance. He wouldn't let Skye think he had the upper hand.

"Likes a babe," Skye answered smoothly, his eyes full of malevolent merriment. He stroked a hand down his hard, flat belly and over the bulge rising in his tight black pants. "Mighta gone better, though, if that sweet thing over there had come ins ta sees me. She's got a right pretty mouth right there. Coulda put that ta some good use."

Wolverine bristled at that though he noticed Rogue still sat smooth and easy. With her good looks, she got jeered at often and was a bit numb to it. It just made Logan sad inside knowing that even if Rogue had been interested in any of those uncouth offers, she wouldn't be in a position to take them up on it, her mutation simply wouldn't allow for it. Skye, being Siskan, would be an exception to that rule, they were immune to her poisonous skin, but as pretty as Skye was, his heart was too black and ugly for her to even think of it.

Logan was about to reply something just as nasty in return when he heard voices. He turned to see they had a visitor – Warren had come in with one of his assistants. In spite of being injured, Warren was back in business, dressed in another impeccable and expensive suit and looking well. His assistant was young, one of the older orphans who had been left behind after yesterday's terrible battle. She was smiling in spite of her grief, being asked to help out by the head of the Complex was a big privilege and she was happy to have been chosen.

"A bit early for you, isn't it, Wings?" Logan greeted.

Warren shrugged. "I'm doing a head count, making a list of the survivors. Even these losers still count," he said, nodding his head in Kristalay's direction.

The monster formerly known as Sabretooth paused in his vigorous workout, standing up tall to stretch and flex his large muscles, showing off a bit. He grinned at Warren, revealing his long wicked fangs. He was strong, healthy, and not even close to being the broken man he had been when Skye had first come to collect him.

It hadn't escaped Warren's notice. He was looking at the man with an odd gleam in his eyes, like he simply couldn't believe it. The last he had seen of Kristalay, the man had leg braces and a cane. That was three weeks ago at most, maybe four.

"Oh, you kin believes it," Skye purred, his grin wide and proud. His eyes were merry at the thought of a possible new client. He looked Warren over with the same open faced hunger that he had Rogue. "I fixed him up good...just like I can yous, if you wants it."

Warren blinked, startled by Skye's almost telepathic perception, but then had the strangest look on his face. Logan didn't quite get it at first, but then cursed softly under his breath. Warren had been born a winged man, but he wasn't that way now, not in reality. His real flesh and blood wings had been taken from him by the very same group of Marauders that Sabretooth had once belonged to. He now wore very clever prosthetics that had restored his flight capabilities, but anyone could tell you it wasn't the same as having the real thing. How many times had Logan caught Warren staring at his scarred and mutilated back in the men's room locker mirrors, his eyes low with horror and shame? The thing was, in spite of all that, Logan had always thought Warren would be too strong and self confident to even consider Skye's offer as anything but a cruel joke.

"He might be able to do what he says," Wolverine growled, "But you don't want to pay the price. Look at the kid over there, that's his handiwork, too." He jabbed a finger at Famayalin who was ignoring them all, lost in his furious scrabbling. "That could be you."

Warren nodded and stepped back, turning away. The foamy, bloody spit from Famayalin's mouth still hung on the barrier like a warning that any sensible man would pay serious heed to. Warren whispered to his assistant and they checked off the names of the persons in the room on their list and made for the door. It didn't escape Logan's notice that Warren had gone moodily silent and that the man gave Skye one last lingering look before leaving.

The moment Warren was gone Logan snarled at Skye, "You even think about messin' with anyone else around here, I'll have yer hide and then some, boy."

"Yer welcome to try," Skye snorted back, releasing glistening Morrowhiem through the circular air holes of his protective screen, a taunt in of itself.

Logan stepped back from it with a disgusted snarl of hate. Any form of mind control enraged him, especially when it was used with malicious intent as this so clearly was. The hard plastic barriers of these cells were better than bars and allowed for greater visibility, but because of the air holes, they wouldn't stop this strange magic. The barrier might be good enough for Famayalin and Kristalay, but Skye would have to be moved down the hall to the cells for the more powerful. Those cells had full energy screens and were reserved for the bigger troublemakers. Looked like Skye would be the first to take one of them for a spin.

From the next cell over, Famayalin howled. The red sparkles of Morrowhiem had drifted his way and he wanted them, needed them so badly. He squeezed his slender clawed fingers through the silver dollar sized holes of his screen trying to catch as many of them as he could. A large clump of them touched his skin, floating into his cell enough to brush his dirty, tear streaked face, and he shuddered hard in relief, calming at once as he finally received what he had been craving so badly. His eyes closed and he lay still, instantly asleep. Logan wasn't sure, but he thought the boy might have ejaculated from it. It made the bile rise up in his throat, tasting that much more bitter at the idea that the blonde youth laying there could some day be Warren if he fell to the wicked Siskan's temptation. Skye had to be put in his place and it needed to be done now.

"Lord have mercy," Rogue whispered in revulsion, turning her head away. That had repulsed her far more than any of Skye's sexual taunts. It was the cruelty of it.

Logan didn't hesitate. He made for the watch desk and snatched for the taser that was in the top drawer, thumbing the safety off without even thinking. Unafraid, he hit the door switch for Skye's cell and stomped in, backing the Siskan right up and firing the gun at him at point blank range. Skye had seen him coming and had gone defensive, but really, the guy had nowhere to go. He was telekinetic and could fly but like Aiden, his telekinetic shields weren't worth crap. The first taser charge hit the shield and gave Skye a bad shock just from being so close. The shield evaporated as poor Skye broke and crumbled to his knees and Logan fired again, this time hitting Skye square in the chest.

Skye howled and fell, flashing through several skins before settling on one Wolverine hadn't expected. It was that of a rumpled and dirty child, his body battered and bruised. Logan stood over him, the gun's power now discharged, and wasn't the least bit fooled. Aiden's journal had pretty much spelled out that Skye had been bullied as a child, creating the monster he was now, but that knowledge currently garnered him no sympathy. The Siskan was no longer conscious in spite of having laid this tender trap and offered no resistance as Logan grabbed him by the hair and dragged him out.

Wolverine took three steps towards the deep end of the hall, planning to go deep, perhaps all the way back to the sedation tables, when he was forced to pause. There was a deep growly grunt and Logan looked up to meet the tawny brown eyes of his half brother. Kristalay was at his barrier now and grinning broadly, happy like a child at Christmas at the sight of Skye having been so reduced. If there had been any doubt of Kristalay's ability to leave Skye behind, it was gone now. Once more, the man had overcome adversity to achieve his own ends, he had been healed and managed to walked away from it for the most part intact.

"You give me an ounce of crap," Wolverine snarled with a flash of fang, "..this will be yer sorry ass instead of his. You gettin' me, boy?"

Kristalay said nothing but his grin got that much wider, his eyes glistening at the thought of a fight. He was much too clever, at least in his current incarnation, to provoke Logan further and he backed away, holding his hands up in mock surrender. He settled down on his bunk and stretched out, giving Logan the space he wanted.

Wolverine grumbled unhappily to himself, not much looking forward to what might be inevitable between him and his half brother, and tugged on the incapacitated Siskan at his feet, taking him away.