Notes: Yes, agreed. We'll have lines for both Creed and Essex and everyone will feel better. Also, yes, hello Miran we adore you. Also shoutout to Ophelia Claire, who was part of the original Frenzy and whose Kurt stuff we've been using heavily because, look, O writes the most adorable Kurt, okay? We love having these ladies as part of the collaboration - and keep an eye out for more awesome ladies in the very near future!

Chapter 6: A Woman's Heart

August 3

Essex's Laboratories

Today's newest resurrection woke up not only on the hospital bed but also restrained to a backboard, her arms and legs tightly at her sides with no room to wiggle in the slightest. She couldn't even move her head from side to side. Clearly, for this girl, they were taking no chances, not considering the extensive training that she'd already received from the Red Room.

Of course, Natasha Romanoff didn't take well to being restrained, and almost as soon as she was awake and aware enough to realize her situation, she was methodically straining every muscle, trying every trick she could think of to get free before she had even opened her eyes, automatically moving into fight mode as soon as she'd registered the danger — all while the machinery in the room monitored her complete lack of progress on escaping and her body's reaction to it.

Essex waited for the girl to wear out her options, watching with almost predatory interest from outside the room as the numeric records of panic came in: heartbeat, blood pressure, and so on. Most impressive was that these were the only signs, however, as her expression hadn't really changed to reflect any panic, and even after she fell still and stopped straining fruitlessly, it was clear she was agitated, but amazingly, there no obvious outward signs. It was only once she stopped straining that he moved from the observation room.

"You're a smart girl," Essex said as he opened the door and slowly approached the young woman. "I shouldn't have to tell you that you're not getting off that backboard until we've reached an agreement."

Her gaze found him, and she gave him a long once-over as best she could from her restrained state, sizing him up and trying to decide the best approach to dealing with him. The dispassionate look he met her with told her it probably wouldn't work to play at being broken or at crying, so she just took a deep, calming breath to get her heart rate to a more neutral point. "That depends on the agreement," she said in a cool tone that matched his with practiced skill.

"I have a need for a person with your talents," he said frankly. "But I need to know that you will do what you're told. Everytime, without fail, without question."

She let out a little derisive snort. "I don't see why I would," she said, matching his honesty with her own so she could get a better read on him. Mirror him. Study him. She had no reason to give him her allegiance - and she didn't like being told what to do. That wasn't his place.

He smiled cruelly. "It's fairly simple, really. If you don't, you die. Or, if that doesn't seem like so terrible of an idea, keep in mind that there is a device resting next to your heart that can deliver a type of poison that will do nothing but cause excruciating pain for hours." He tipped his head her way. "Of course. I'd only use the fatal dose when I decided to put you out of your misery."

"Of course," she said, still mirroring him, her eyes narrowing as she worked to keep her breath steady and give as little away as she could. "You don't want to waste all the time you spent on bringing me back by throwing it all away. I did die, after all. It can't be easy to pull off … whatever you've done to reverse that."

"You would be surprised," he said, the cruel smile still there despite her attempt at reasoning with him. "Resisting me would only mean multiple resurrections for the same treatment until you get it right."

She fell silent for a moment. So she couldn't appeal to keeping an asset alive, not if he treated resurrection so blithely. Maybe she could make it personal... "I didn't realize I had such a fan from just a few days in the Games."

"Oh, I've been watching you since long before you volunteered," he admitted, though there was none of the Capitolite excitement of Games fans or the likes of Tivan, which told Natasha he knew far more than what normal observers would. "Who do you think gave them the green light to send you in?" he added, and that had her interests piqued — what did he know, exactly?

"I don't think I caught your name," she said with a guarded look. "Here or in Two."

He smiled a bit more widely. "Of course not, though which of my names would you like? I operate under so many."

"If you've been watching me for so long, you'd know which one I would recognize," she shot back. "Or was that a lie too?"

"Ah." He nodded in understanding. "In Two, and several of the outer districts, I'm known as Dr. Charles Windsor."

It was obvious from the change in her inflection and her body language that Natasha recognized the name, as she went quiet and still. "Then what do you need me to do?" she asked at last, slowly and carefully. "I was trained for the Games, and those are over now."

"You thought you were trained for the Games," he replied, though he didn't elaborate on that statement at all, instead turning his attention to the various machinery she was still hooked to. "For now, I need you to keep to yourself and build your strength back up."

"Simple enough," she agreed. "And it shouldn't take long before I'm ready for what's next."

"We'll start with strength training, and then I'd like you to review your tapes from the Games and tell me in detail where you went wrong," he said, the slightest flash just behind his gaze that had her biting back a frown.

Still for just a moment, her pride flared in her eyes at the idea that she had done anything wrong, but she only nodded, oddly docile for how defiant she had been before. "Yes, sir."

Early Morning of August 4

Triskellion

Skye jerked into consciousness in the early hours of the morning, panic evident in every muscle and every breath. The worst part was that there wasn't really anyone she could talk to about it, she knew, because she wasn't even supposed to know about the thing that had been giving her nightmares for the past few nights.

It had definitely been a bad idea to watch the unedited Creed tape Coulson had asked her to find for the victors by herself. In the middle of the night.

But she also really wasn't supposed to see it, so that was kinda her own fault. She turned over, punched her pillow as if it was the cause of all her anxiety, and tried to get back to sleep. It really shouldn't have bothered her as much as it did, right? Guy wasn't even targeting her and really… she wasn't anywhere close to him. But it still bothered her.

It probably also didn't help that she hadn't really had time to watch the video until after Coulson sprung the revelation that there were dead kids in the sub-basement of the building being brought back to life, so she had nightmare zombie Frankenstein terror fuel on the brain and then she watched that stupid video, so she was definitely questioning her life decisions.

She'd thought she hadn't made too much noise or drawn too much attention, but the pain in her knee told her she'd hit the wall beside her bed at some point — probably when she kneed the nightmare zombie in the groin — and since May's room was right there on the other side of the wall, the older woman appeared only minutes after Skye had calmed back down. In the short time between dealing with the jumbled mess of creepy victors and zombie kids in her nightmares and when May knocked on the door, Skye tried very hard not to feel like she was, what, nine and having bad dreams? This was not SHIELD agent behavior.

Still, she went to the door to find May standing there with just one eyebrow raised as she looked in on Skye's disorderly room. "Sorry," Skye muttered quickly. "I… am an active sleeper. Didn't mean to wake you."

"I was awake already," May replied, though she didn't look like she was going anywhere. "You talk in your sleep."

"Oh," Skye said, very quietly.

"It didn't make much sense, if it makes you feel any better. Monsters mostly." She tipped her head to the side a bit as she seemed to study out how best to help Skye. "How about some fresh air and a drink of water?"

"I'm fine, Mom. I don't need warm milk or anything," Skye said, pulling a bit of a face.

May rolled her eyes and crossed the room to drop into a chair — after she moved the clothes and the laptop that was sitting on it. "I'm sure this has nothing at all to do with your field trip earlier then, huh?"

Skye glanced up at May for a second and then let out a breath. "Yeah, well, only partly," she admitted. "The zombies in the basement are a lot to process." She straightened up a bit as she quickly added, "I'll get there though," just so there was no concern about whether or not she could hack it in SHIELD. She so could. They couldn't scare her off this easily.

"I'm sure they're not out to get your brains," May teased lightly

"You never know," Skye said with a bit of a smirk. "I've been told I have a lot of 'em. Braaaains."

May just smirked the slightest bit and shook her head at Skye. "You need to relax. If you want to talk about it - I'm sure … we can arrange for you to see Xavier," she offered gently.

"I don't need a shrink or anything," Skye said.

"Says the grown woman having nightmares about zombies and monsters."

"In my defense? This grown woman just learned zombies and monsters are real, so cut me a little slack," Skye defended.

May just smirked at her. "Really? You live in the Capitol and you just now realized that monsters are real?"

"Touche," Skye said, unable to stop the little laugh that escaped her. She sat up a bit, realizing May still wasn't going anywhere, before she tipped her head to the side. "The Games just… there's this whole other side to them with monsters and zombies and Frankensteins, and I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that all this was hidden right under our noses." She gestured at her laptop. "A few months ago, this would be exactly the kind of thing I'd be out to expose, tell the world, let them know the danger and the stuff SHIELD is doing…."

"And now?"

"Now I'm in the system, and it's even worse than what I was blogging about and…" Skye shook her head, unsure where to go from there because she still didn't know how to react or what she should do. "I didn't think there were literal monsters in SHIELD. I mean. I knew some of the victors were class A creeps, but come on."

"What makes you think they're all not Class A creeps?" May asked curiously.

"Well, I live in hope," Skye said with a shrug. "I mean, they can't all be like — freaking Victor Creed or whatever."

"No," she agreed. "But they were all murderers from the time they won — untrained killers that, so far, really haven't gone through any kind of therapy."

"Yeah, that part is on you guys," Skye pointed out. "Isn't SHIELD supposed to be in charge of all the Games stuff? You want me to see Xavier — why not point him at some of the Grade A psychos? They're only running loose in the Capitol being total creeps and just…." She trailed off. "Yeah, that's on you guys."

She nodded her head in concession. "Well, to be fair, some of the younger victors have sought out Xavier. It's the older ones and the ones that refuse to believe they need help that you should watch out for. Victor Creed is absolutely one of them."

"Yeah, that's all well and good, but you know it's not like he's keeping his psychotic hands to himself," Skye grumped. "People should know SHIELD sucks at controlling their hand-made killers."

"What do you know?" May asked with a frown.

Skye looked a bit surprised at herself as she clearly hadn't meant to put May on that scent and just frowned right back at her. But she was all about freedom of information, so— "Ask Coulson," she grumbled. "He's got the tape."

"What tape?" May said. "If you have it, you should share."

Skye had to smirk at May even as she reached over to grab her laptop from the bedstand where May had placed it. "I thought that was a big no-no around here. Could get me killed. Big secrets, confidentiality, all that stuff," she said as she looked up the right file.

"Shut up and show me what you have."

Skye queued up the video in strained silence, still not sure herself on how much May knew and a little wary of playing it again in the wee hours of the morning, but hey, May was here, so it wouldn't be so bad as watching it by herself like an idiot. She just wordlessly turned the laptop May's way so at least she wouldn't have to watch it, though, letting the whole thing play out as it was clear from May's expression that she was livid — which was really saying something, since Skye hadn't really thought May did… emotions, really.

"So… yeah. SHIELD sucks at running these Games," Skye said when it was finished, very quietly, as she watched May's expression intently. "Thought we were supposed to protect people."

"We are," she said through her teeth.

"You guys've done a really great job so far."

May gave her a dry look. "All I can tell you for sure is that Director Fury has no plans to let Victor Creed live through this rebellion."

Skye let out all her breath on hearing that, nodding quietly. "That… that does make me feel better, actually. Because SHIELD with this guy in it… is so not something I want a part of, thanks."

"No one wants to be a part of anything with him in it — but we also can't let the other side use him against us."

"So we make a deal with the devil until we can kill him dead." Skye frowned. "Not sure I like that either."

"Unfortunately, killing him now would draw too much attention."

Skye let out another, long breath. "Yeah. I guess." She took her laptop back from May and set it to sleep mode before she glanced at the older woman. "It just sucks in the meantime, doesn't it?"

"That it does," she said with an uncustomary sigh. "We'll just have to make sure you know how to handle yourself."

"I thought that was why I was stuck with Ward and a punching bag in the mornings," Skye said with the slightest of smiles.

"You may need auxiliary lessons from someone with more experience."

"You offering?"

"I'm just not sure Ward knows the angles needed for a woman your size to fend off someone that big."

Skye frowned the slightest bit. "You don't think that's gonna be a problem — do you? For me, I mean?" She paused. "I mean… I'm not a tribute…"

"I'd rather not wait for it to happen and then decide to work on it," May replied. "I don't know that it would be a problem, but it's better to be prepared — and there are other creeps out there besides just Victor Creed, you know."

Skye nodded quietly at that. "Okay, yeah. Good. Right." She glanced at her clock and then let out a sigh. "So… how early would said lessons be? Because... I do actually need sleep to function."

"I don't want to even see you until I've had at least two cups of coffee," May replied. "So how about after morning briefings?"

Skye grinned. "That works for me. You don't want to deal with me before then anyway. This?" She gestured at herself. "This is not my usual morning personality."

May just smirked and nodded her head once. "Go to sleep so you can learn how to slay monsters."

August 8

Charles Xavier's Office

For the most part, Charles had always passed his birthday in quiet, especially since it was so close after the end of the Games that he was more interested in solitude — busy as he was in their aftermath with everything else. A quiet morning to himself was enough of a birthday celebration, though the elegantly wrapped gift that had found its way to his 'official' desk outside of the Tahiti wing had done wonders for his mood that morning.

He'd brought the leather-bound book down with him and fully intended to crack it open and pour through it for a while before he began the rest of his duties for the day, though when he got to the title page, he recognized the slanted cursive handwriting and had to stop and smile when he realized that Moira had left him a note — with "for your 40th" written on the top as she liked to tease him about his age. She was a few weeks younger, and proud of that fact.

But the note itself was devoid of any lighthearted teasing about his age, just an honest to goodness love note, elegantly written — she'd clearly taken time and effort to write it just so, and he couldn't help but smile as he re-read it, leaned back in his chair and lingering over the little details like the curls at the end of every single letter.

It was an old tradition between the two of them, at this point, because it was absolutely frowned upon — any unauthorized fraternization between stylists or escorts and victors would mean the escort or stylist was fired at the very least, disgraced oftentimes, as was the case with Johnny Storm's initial escort. And so, like so many other parts of his life, this nearly 20-year relationship was hidden, relegated to love letters and secret notes, like they were still as young as the children they were supposed to look out for.

So Charles was honestly lost in his own thoughts when his scheduled appointment arrived, and he closed the leather book with a bit of a frown, setting it aside as he called for Kurt to come in and tore his mind from his own personal affairs to the pressing matter of plans for tomorrow.

Kurt poked his head around the door with a little smile and a wave before he slipped into the room and found a seat. "You wanted to see me?"

"I did," Charles replied warmly. "I thought it best that we sit down to discuss how that interview went over for you. I'm sure to let it wait for so long, but I'm confident you know, at least, that the truth was stretched well beyond the breaking point."

Kurt nodded slowly, though it was clear the topic of the interview was a tender one as the easy smile vanished. "I know that nearly everything they said about Logan was a lie," he told Charles honestly. "I hope you don't believe a word of it — he… he needs someone to remind him it's not true, and since I'm not there…" He tipped his head Charles' way. "I can help you, if that's what you wanted to talk about," he offered almost eagerly. "Anything I can do to help him."

Charles' smile only widened at that. "Yes, I'm sure you could if we can find a way to make that happen," he agreed. "But for the moment, I'm not asking for your help with Logan; I would simply like to talk about how you're handling all that you saw."

"I'm just glad I know," Kurt said honestly, the slightest of frowns tugging at the edge of his expression.

"I'm sure you're not glad to know much of what they were lying about," Charles replied.

"No, that's true," Kurt agreed, letting out all his breath as his shoulders slumped the slightest bit. "I didn't like watching what it did to my friend. I just — wish I could have been there," he admitted.

"If it makes you feel any better at all, I have a close friend in Seven's group," Charles told him. "And I've asked this friend to help me keep an eye on that situation."

Kurt sat up a bit straighter. "Oh — good," he said with a little nod. "I'm glad to hear that."

"You know, of course, that the love story angle was a total fabrication," Charles said gently.

For a moment, Kurt glanced up at Charles with slightly widened eyes, then quickly looked back down at his hands. "Yeah, I noticed that Logan sort of … shut down when they got to that part. I don't think he saw it coming." He let out a breath and just shook his head slowly as he thought of it.

"He did not," Charles agreed.

"It's not right," Kurt continued, frowning harder. "They shouldn't use her memory against him like that. When we were in the Games, those first days — that alliance was the only thing keeping us from… well. Falling apart like, I suppose, they did, in the end." He glanced up at Charles. "Watching that interview … they took the only good part of the Games from him. I've been thinking about it a long time, and I think that's why they did it."

"That's very likely true," Charles agreed.

"So — if you want to know how I took it, like you said," Kurt added, "I guess the only thing I can say is that it just makes me angry." He shook his head. "And — frustrated that I can't do more to help when I know it's just targeted to hurt him."

"Kurt, I will do all that I can for your friend," Charles promised. "But I need to be sure that you are going to be alright as well."

"I'll be fine as soon as I can start helping," Kurt said honestly. He gestured around the room as a whole. "Cooped up down here with nothing to do but think about all the ways the Capitol has wronged — and is still wronging — so many people... " He shrugged and gave Charles a slightly sheepish smile. "Well, I try not to let my temper get the best of me, and I try to be more peaceable, but I am angry. I won't lie about that."

"As well you should be," Charles agreed. "You've every right to be angry." He paused. "But I hope … that won't stop you from helping me in the morning."

"Of course not," Kurt said quickly, shaking his head. "If I can help, let me know what I can do."

"Meet me here, first thing. I'd like your help when we wake up the next ex-tribute."

Kurt couldn't help but break into a bit of a grin at the prospect of another friend in the Tahiti Wing, though he had to ask, "Isn't that usually Cassie's job?"

"I think this is better suited to you, Mr. Wagner."

"Then of course I'll do what I can," Kurt assured him. He smiled a bit wider as he added, "I think I have the layout of the Tahiti Wing memorized by now, at least. For the most part."

"I'm sure you'll do just fine," Charles said with a smile. "I believe you will be an excellent tour guide, no matter how detailed the tour."

The next morning, Charles was again seated in his office with the leather-bound book, this time actually reading through it as he waited for Kurt to come see him. It was clear the young man was both hopeful and nervous about that morning, as he arrived a little earlier than scheduled and slipped inside with a halfway terrified expression.

"Are you ready to say hello to our newest team member?" Charles asked with an excited gleam of his own.

Kurt nodded wordlessly for a long moment before he finally seemed to find his voice. "Am I at least allowed to know who it is before we get there, or…?"

"Of course," Charles said with a broad smile. "It's Kate."

At that, Kurt just stared at Charles for a moment, his expression clearly nervous even as a smile kept tugging at the corners of his mouth. It was exactly the name he'd hoped to hear, but even hearing it now, it was clear he was anxious. "Oh," was all he could manage for the moment. He swallowed almost convulsively before he said, "I saw — I saw the end… She… You were able to bring her back, then? Even after… how bad it was?"

"Yes, it was actually simple enough as far as traumatic injuries go, I've been told." He started down the hall without waiting for Kurt before he called over his shoulder. "This way, please."

Xavier was at the door before Kurt spoke again. "Charles?"

Charles paused, his expression saddening before he relaxed into a smile and turned back to the boy. "Yes?"

Kurt stared at the floor for a long time. "Will she… remember? Dying, I mean? It was slower for her than… "

The older man looked, for a moment, even older than he was. "We try to dull the memories, Kurt. The very process dulls the last moments. She will remember what happened, but feel no more than you do." He nodded a gentle smile. "Let's go see how she is."

It took Kurt another few moments before he got up the nerve to follow after Charles, his mouth dry as he just… had absolutely no idea what he was going to say to Kate. What he could possibly say to Kate after everything that had happened? In the Games, he'd just wanted to find her and throw his arms around her — but knowing what he knew, even discounting the blown-up lies from the Capitol… He just didn't know what she would be like when she woke up.

He turned the corner after Charles and just nodded quietly to himself, resolving to just be careful once he got there. Just ... show her around Tahiti and let her come to terms with the rest of it on her own time. He could do that much, at least.

August 9

Somewhere beneath SHIELD

There was some kind of beeping, almost mechanical. For a panicked moment, Kate thought it might have been another one of those parachutes, but it wasn't quite the same sound.

She felt strange. The pain was gone, but it was replaced by a heaviness, an unfamiliarity… she couldn't move, and the light hurt her eyes. It had taken so long to slip into unconsciousness after Steve...

Is this some kind of sick joke? Waking up again?

She started to panic as she realized that the strange feeling wasn't going away, that the brightness still hurt — she wanted to move, but she must have been hurt pretty badly if she couldn't. Though why she couldn't feel any pain was still a mystery. The beeping beside her got more intense as she strained to see, which really wasn't helping either.

"Miss Bishop," a gentle voice said. "You'll come out of this quicker if you try to relax."

She tried to force her eyes open. If someone was there with her — she had to see what was happening. She couldn't move — she was vulnerable. Blinking against the bright light, she could see a white room, almost like a hospital, and a man in a wheelchair nearby.

"You're perfectly safe," he said. "No one is going to harm you in the least. Welcome back."

She frowned as she tried to force her mouth to form words, surprised at how hard it was. "Seriously? You're threatening my best sense with the blinding interrogation routine."

"My apologies." Charles gestured toward a mirror, and the lights were dimmed, although she still felt her eyes sting.

In spite of that, she fixed her gaze on him, trying to place where she'd seen him before until, finally, it clicked — he was a victor. She'd seen him around the Capitol before, but that had to mean… "I won?"

"I'm afraid not," he replied gently. "But you are here, nonetheless."

She looked around her surroundings once more, this time a bit more carefully as she tried to get some semblance of control back. It was hard to get her muscles to respond the way she wanted them too. "I want to go home," she said abruptly, putting voice to the same pounding thought she hadn't been able to say out loud in the Games.

"I know," he replied with a sympathetic tone. "But I'm afraid that's not possible yet."

She shook her head stubbornly, the monitor betraying her sped-up heartbeat even when she was trying to look determined and not terrified. "I don't want to play these stupid games anymore. I just want out."

"No more games," he said, shaking his head. "Revolution." He gave her a meaningful look as he waited for the concept to sink in a bit. "But I'm getting ahead of myself." He moved a bit closer and extended his hand to her. "Charles Xavier. It's a pleasure to meet you, my dear, even under such dire circumstances."

She stared at him for a moment before she took his hand, still a little wary. "Kate Bishop. I guess you knew that though," she said with a little fleeting smile.

"How do you feel?" Charles asked, "Outside of what I'm sure is a nasty case of disorientation."

"Heavy," Kate said, scrunching up her nose, rolling both shoulders as she said it, the weight worrisome when she needed her arms for archery and everything else. "Where am I? What did you do to me?"

"We brought you back," he said. "And we're far beneath the Capitol, away from anyone's knowledge."

She thought about it for a moment before she just nodded and let out all her breath. "So I died then," she said quietly. "I screwed up."

The older man smiled. "On the contrary, you did exceptionally well," Charles said. "Even if you did die."

She shook her head and frowned his way. "I murdered someone — and I didn't even kill the right person," she insisted. She gestured around the medical wing. "So thanks for bringing me back; I really didn't want to go to Hell. But please don't expect me to thank you," she said, some heat rising in her voice.

"Miss Bishop," Charles said. "You can't be too concerned about what did or didn't' happen over the course of the Games. The important thing is that you are here now. Hopefully, to do good."

"Where's Logan?" she asked sharply. "I'll start there."

"He's not here," Charles said.

"I didn't ask you where he's not," Kate said with a glare as she tried to swing her legs off the bed.

Charles exhaled a sigh as his shoulders dropped. "He's in District Seven."

She stilled then, and her gaze hardened into even more of a glare, her hands clenched in fists against the fabric of the bed. "He won," she all but spat out. "I didn't get to fight him, so he won."

"Kate, no one wins," Charles said.

"Oh really?" She drew herself up and planted herself on her feet as more a show of willpower than anything else. "Because one of us can go home, Charles Xavier. One of us didn't die."

"But that is all he has — nothing and no one else," Charles said patiently.

"His own fault," Kate said through gritted teeth. "You saw what he did. I know the victors watch the Games. Not surprised he's alone."

Charles looked a bit sympathetic to her as he weighed out his next words. "I can't say that I'm surprised by your outlook, and knowing what you currently do, you certainly are in the right. Knowing what you currently do."

"It doesn't matter, does it? He's in Seven, and we're here…" She let out a little noise of frustration and shook her head hard.

"Let's not worry about Logan for now. We can discuss this all later," Charles suggested. "We should get you settled into your new room."

She just watched him for a long moment, the distrust plainly written across her face. "Fine," she finally spat out.

"Not to mention there are others who I'm sure you would rather see." Charles looked toward the mirrored section of wall, and moments later, a familiar figure stepped through the door.

Kate couldn't help but stare as she recognized the dark curls and nervous smile when Kurt waved hello at her, and she could feel the anger draining out of her in an instant, all but that small insistent nagging in the back of her mind that Kurt still died — but it didn't matter as she lunged as fast as her clumsy newly healed body would let her and flung her arms around Kurt.

And Kate had never kissed anyone before, but she kissed Kurt right then, just as hard as she could. It was a little strange because she still felt very fuzzy, but there was no way was she going to pass this up. She had already regretted not doing it for too long.

She'd clearly caught him off guard, as he let out a small noise of surprise, but then he just pulled her in, his arms around her in a warm hug — and as the two former tributes became more intimately reacquainted, Charles wheeled himself around them toward the door.

"Kurt, when the two of you are… finished, meet me down in my office. I have something for both of you to see," Charles said as he headed out of Kate's little hospital room. "Take your time."

Kurt glanced toward Charles for a moment before the victor left, and he gave Kate his full attention once more. Kate was surprised that Kurt looked …well, it was hard to place his expression. But he also hadn't let go of her or tried to push her back when she was not letting go of him, so that was good at least.

But she felt the blush rising in her cheeks as, now that she'd kissed him, she realized she didn't really know what to do. "Um. Hi," she said, finally, turning brilliantly pink as she met his still-surprised gaze. "I missed you."

He grinned at her for a second. "I missed you too," he said, still not letting go and even hugging her tighter. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that."

"I should be ... I should have looked for you harder," Kate said in a rush into his chest, her forehead resting for a moment on his collar. "I wanted to find you guys again, and the next thing I knew…"

"We tried to find you," Kurt said.

"I found a new partner," Kate admitted. "Well, another partner. The other Hawkeye? I wanted to induct him into Team Awesome."

"Is there room for him?" Kurt teased.

She waved her hand and laughed, picking her head up so he could see her shake her head at him. "Of course. He's great. Saved my life twice."

"Well as long as the others have no issues, and if he qualifies... then I hope we can meet him."

Kate's eyes widened at that. "Are they bringing everyone back?" she asked, fearfully hopeful.

"I don't know. I hope so," he said. "I know they're working on more than they've done before — but even with who's here now, we've beaten that record."

"Before?" She wrinkled her nose as she began to realize there was a lot more going on than Charles had told her.

"It looks like it was two or three a year before us," Kurt said. "But we already had three back before today."

"Anyone we know?" Kate asked.

"The Five girl and the Three boy," he said before he shrugged. "And me."

"Well, at least there's you," Kate said before she just half buried her face in his shoulder in a very, very tight hug.

He gladly returned her embrace, eyes closed and just soaking it in, much of his previous concern simply melting away. Reluctantly, he eventually pulled his head back and looked into her eyes. "We should go see what Charles has to share."

She sighed as if this was a heavy imposition before she took the slightest of steps back but kept her arm laced through his. "Well, I have no idea where we are, so I guess that makes you my escort," she informed him, clearly just relieved to have him back and not about to be further apart from him than she was at the moment. She edged slightly closer and said, "You don't mind if I lean on you, do you? I'm still a little weak…" Although that was certainly true, her eyes gave another reason entirely.

"Of course, Kate." He covered her hand with his and let out a relieved sigh as he led the way slowly to Charles' office with a little grin firmly in place. He didn't know what to say — he simply hadn't expected her to be so … warm. Not that he was complaining.

They walked slowly, both for the benefit of Kate's still-recovering body and because they were both simply loathe to do anything but be together. But when they got to Charles' office, the former victor was waiting for them with the welcoming smile that he wore most of the time, clearly not at all bothered by the long wait. "Please, have a seat," he said, gesturing with a sweeping motion to the chairs near a monitor. "I have something you both should see, but I ask that you attempt to keep an open mind about it until it's over."

Kate frowned at the monitor for a moment and took a stronger grip on Kurt's arm. "I don't … I'm done with videos, thanks," she murmured.

"Please, Kate," Charles said with a cautious expression. "There is much you don't know — and you should."

"I already know enough," Kate said with a hateful glare that Kurt wasn't accustomed to seeing on her face. It marred her features entirely, and for a moment, he simply didn't recognize the girl beside him.

"You know what they wanted you to know," Charles replied quietly. "And what you were told — simply is not the truth."

Kurt frowned. He didn't like the sound of that, and he couldn't help but wonder just what Charles was talking about. Who could have told Kate anything, when the arena was closed off to outside influence except via sponsors and parachutes? "What are you saying?" he asked, carefully, the dawning suspicion starting to gnaw at him.

"I know how you died, Kurt," Kate said, though her gaze and her glare were fixed on Charles.

"Tracker jackers," Kurt said with a nod that was not to be argued with. "What does that have to do with anything?"

But she turned to face him with her eyebrows raised. "Tracker jackers?" she repeated, in a tone that clearly indicated she thought he was messing with her.

"I'm reasonably sure I know how I died, Kate," Kurt replied evenly.

"You clearly don't," she said, shaking her head.

He frowned at her, surprised at the expression he saw just behind her eyes. "I was there," he insisted flatly.

"And hallucinating, apparently!" she countered, throwing up the hand that wasn't attached to his arm. "You can't have remembered-"

"I know what happened, even if I was hallucinating," Kurt replied with a bit of heat. "Like everyone else that was there."

Kate stared at him. "You — no, that's not what—"

"It is," Kurt insisted stubbornly. "That's exactly what happened."

It was clear that Kate was having a hard time processing what Kurt told her. She'd spent days in the Games thinking she knew what was going on, and her most recent memories were of her last, desperate fight to get to Logan… But Kurt had been hallucinating. He admitted it. And she had seen, with her own two eyes… But then, she'd known the video looked like it was tampered with. But the sound. The final words exchanged. That was real, wasn't it? How far did the Capitol go to manipulate us all?

"Logan was ready to give up after you died," Charles said to Kurt when it was clear Kate had nothing to give him for a reply. "It was plain enough to see."

Kurt turned toward Charles with startled alarm in his expression. "What happened?" he asked as Kate quietly sank into the chair beside him, processing, one hand pressed to her forehead.

"The Capitol sent videos to all of the tributes," Charles said. "Everyone's was tampered with except for Logan's." He paused to let that sink in a bit for the two of them. "If you want to know what happened to him — then you need to see the video that was sent to him."

"You mean everyone ... " Kate stared at Charles. "Why would they do that?"

"To either break you or make you fight," Charles replied in a tired tone.

Kurt watched Kate as all the color seemed to drain from her face. He put his hand over hers, concerned, before he looked back to Charles. "What really happened?" he asked, a bit more insistently this time.

Charles' gaze hardened as he pushed the remote across the desk. "There is nothing I can say that would soften this." He took a breath as Kurt picked up the remote. "It is the aftermath of your death, Mr. Wagner, and if I could simply verbalize what happened, I would not ask you to go through this. But I am at an absolute loss for words."

Kurt felt his mouth go dry as Kate reached over and put her other hand on his arm, but clearly Charles wanted them to see this. And while he might not have been back from the dead for very long, he already trusted Charles more than he trusted anyone else in this program.

The monitor flared to life, and Kurt recognized part of it from what they had played in the interviews when they talked about his death. And even though it wasn't the first time, it was still so strange to see his own body, to see his own death. He could feel Kate tense beside him as she let out a little noise, and somehow, both of them ended up clutching each other's hands by the time Logan arrived — and they saw the look on his face.

Kurt gasped. He just … he just couldn't tear his eyes from the screen. He watched as his friend knelt down beside him — beside his body — and he could feel the ghost memory of ribbons around his arms as he watched Logan wrap them. By the time Logan began to pray, Kurt could hardly see the screen for trying to hold back what Kate had already given into, if the choked sniffles beside him were any indication.

But there was hardly time to try to compose themselves before the parachute arrived, and when Kurt glanced over at Kate and saw the pure hatred in her eyes, it only confirmed it — this had to be what Charles meant when he said the tributes were all sent videos.

They watched as Logan took the box to a secluded cooler so that he could view its contents, and when Victor Creed's face was projected on the wall, Kurt couldn't help but fall into a glare, his jaw tight as he remembered what he had seen of the video at the Capitol. That had only been glimpses and snippets. Now, he was seeing the cruel Sabretooth as he taunted Logan, every bit the inhuman monster the rumors suggested.

He glanced at Kate to see that she was furious when Creed mentioned Kurt's death, but then, when Creed began to utter his threats—

It was clear she panicked. Both Kurt and Charles could see the unfiltered terror as, abruptly, she was thirteen years old and helpless, and it wasn't until Kurt let out a small sound that she realized she was digging her nails into him with the force of her grasp.

"We're done," Kurt said suddenly, sharply, as he stopped the video. But for some reason, Kate shook her head hard.

"No. I want to know," she insisted, her voice hardly more than a whisper, and Kurt paused, the remote still in his hand as he glanced at Charles.

"Okay," Kurt said softly. "But here." He handed her the remote, pointing to the play and stop buttons. "You're in control."

Kate gave him a grateful nod, took a shaky breath and hit the button. Although it shook her to the core, she let the entire video play out, and over her own ragged breath, they heard the sounds of Logan absolutely trashing the cooler in response to Creed's message.

But the footage didn't end there; it went through to the end of the Games, the full, unedited fight between Logan and Steve playing out with all the dialogue that the Capitol had cut.

In context, it was easy for Kate and Kurt to see Logan's pure rage, to understand why it was there. And Steve … Kate felt that much more ashamed, because Steve had taken up her vendetta, and he was only making Logan more angry, perpetuating her mess. Kurt, on the other hand, was watching Logan refuse to listen to what Steve was saying as he even defended Kate. It put the entire fight in a new context, and by the time the video came to its natural end, the room was deathly quiet except for the small hum of the monitor. Kurt stared for a moment before he turned it off with a snap.

Charles gave them some time to settle before he took a deep breath and held it for a moment. "Your friend knows that the Capitol hasn't let any of this out for the public to view."

"You mean he knows the Capitol is blatantly lying to the public?" Kurt said with a pure anger in his tone.

"And he knows they've painted him to be the new version of Victor Creed," Charles said. "Yes. He knows all of that."

"This isn't right," Kurt said, and he would have been on his feet if Kate hadn't all but buried herself in his shoulder.

"It is the way the Capitol has chosen to spin it," Charles replied.

"Not just the spin," Kurt insisted. "All of it. Sending those videos, letting Creed get away with everything — all of it."

"I know," Charles replied. "It's exactly what we're working against right now. We must put an end to this vile system."

"You can't let them keep this up," Kurt said angrily. "If the Capitol spends enough time comparing him to Creed, he'll start to believe it — at least some of it."

"It's highly unorthodox, and not at all allowed, but I am monitoring him as closely as our resources will allow," Charles promised. "Believe me, I realize he is at risk."

"But we still can't see him?" Kurt said, with a bit of heat.

Charles shook his head sadly. "I wish you could, and if it were up to me — you would."

Kurt frowned for a long moment, clearly just… angry on his friend's behalf. He glanced down at hands that were entwined with Kate's, and then over at the girl herself, who was still nestled into his shoulder and hadn't moved since the video footage ended.

Charles spoke with quiet urgency. "If we want to end the Games, and all they represent, then we need your help. There are people in Seven looking out for Logan. He's not as alone as he seems to believe."

At that, Kate finally picked up her head and looked furious. "You're letting him stay in Seven with that … that sack of… he's his neighbor!"

"We have no choice," Charles replied, sounding pained. "Not until after the so-called victory tour. Then we'll be able to bring him to the Capitol, at least — and get him away from Creed."

"That's months away," Kate said sharply.

"There's nothing we can do about it until then, Katherine," Charles replied.

"Just like you couldn't do anything about Logan getting that video? Or about all the crap Creed did before that?" She was gaining steam and clearly livid. "You can bring people back to life, but you can't stop those things?"

"Believe it or not, I didn't even know what the video showed until your old mentor told me about it," Charles said.

"Black Bolt?" Kate pulled her head back for a moment, startled. "How…?"

"It appears to have been a bit of a chain reaction," Charles said. "One of the stylists for Seven let it slip to one of the stylists from Twelve ... an altercation occurred, Blackagar was told — and he promptly told the rest of the mentors."

"It can't happen again," Kate insisted almost breathlessly. "He can't do this."

"No, it can't," he agreed sharply. "And it won't. It appears that the district has already puzzled out the details. Your friend has more backing than he realizes."

"Of course he does," Kurt said. "Especially from people who know the two of them."

"There are precious few that know both of them," Charles said with a grimace. "But they both have very different reputations in the district."

"How long?" Kate asked suddenly. "How long before we can see him? I need to..." She trailed off, several emotions coloring her features all at once.

"I'm afraid I can't answer that," Charles replied. He watched her carefully, gauging her reactions. "I'm sorry to give you all this at once, but I feel it's best that you know what you're getting into, and why."

She thought about it for a moment before she bit her lip. "You said something about a revolution," she said softly, carefully.

"Yes," he said, finally, looking almost eager. "We need to prepare."