Dedicated to all of the wonderful reviewers who're still hanging on *g* Remind me to do something nice for you someday ^^

Another ficlet up at sorciere.freeservers.com / journey / index.html - this time a darker piece by Sabrin, focusing on Ben.

A/N 1: Everyone repeat after me - ideas for fic and character development, questions, plotbunnies, suggestions, flames, character pictures, ficlets, corrections, additions, comments, and everything in between can be mailed to hack_heaven@usa.net. See? That wasn't so hard ^^

A/N 2: Ageless: "Happily ever after"? *Blank stare* Error. Does not compute...besides, you know what happens when a character catches the attention of our muses *smirk*

Maxwell Dark: The camp? Oh, we'll find out...eventually *grins*. Actually, I'm not sure how much (and if) Rina will show up. It's one of those details I'll work out along the way, with the help of Ageless dearest ^^

WritingMoose: Oh, they'll get to Mexico eventually *looks at muse uncertainly* Won't they? *Muse just snickers* Ehh...okay. O.o...

Italics indicates thoughts/telepathy

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Chapter Fifty-One: Creature of Darkness

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"Hey - wake up!"

The words cut through the comforting darkness that engulfed Deirdre's mind, and she felt someone nudge her. She mumbled something incoherently and tried to move, but the only result was a dull pain as her headache flared up and made her whimper quietly.

"Come on, girl. Wake up!"

Another nudge, and Deirdre felt her mind clear up a bit. She vaguely remembered being on board an airplane, but it felt more like some surreal dream than reality. Maybe it had been - the hard floor she now found herself on certainly didn't belong in a plane. Deirdre frowned, trying to place the voice - it was male, and although it sounded vaguely familiar, the thought kept eluding her. She pushed aside her discomfort and still quite groggy, she opened her eyes and took a moment to take in the features of the boy who crouched next to her. Shaggy brown hair, a pair of pale blue, almost gray eyes watching her every move carefully from beneath a pair of glasses...

Deirdre's eyes widened and she pushed herself away from the boy as her mind finally caught up with what she was seeing.

"Get away from me!" she bit out angrily, stumbling to her feet. Acting solely on instincts, she raised her hands and tried to blind her unwanted companion, but the only result was a thundering headache, and Deirdre gasped at the sudden pain.

"Would you calm down?" Zach snapped, watching the girl with an annoyed expression. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

Deirdre watched him warily and took a step away from him. She cast a brief look at the surroundings, and didn't at all like what she saw - a cell, a couple of beds, a bathroom stall...and Zach. Not good.

"Right," she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "We're on opposite teams, but of *course* you're not going to hurt me."

Deirdre raised her arms ever so slightly once again, prepared to defend herself if needed be. She didn't even think about it - it was an unconscious reaction, a stance that would enable her to use both martial arts and her mutation if she had to. Zach took one look at her stance and rolled his eyes.

"You can't use your powers, moron," he said and pointed at a small, black metal collar around his neck. "See? Power-suppressive collars. Meaning that you can't hurt me, even if you try."

Deirdre glared at him.

"So I'm stuck in a cell with a homicidal maniac as my only company?" she bit out. "Don't even *think* about trying anything, Blitz. I'm not as harmless as I look."

Zach snorted, giving the girl a once over. With her black hair, and eyes almost the exact same color as his, she was actually kind of attractive in her own way, but hardly a worthy opponent for someone like him.

"First of all, girl, you're not worth the trouble of a fight. You're smaller than I am, you don't have your mutation to help you, and you've never been trained to real fighting - taking you out would not be a fair fight. And secondly, I'm *not* a homicidal maniac."

"Don't talk about fair fight to me!" Deirdre snapped. "You don't even know what it means!"

"Listen, girl!" Zach snapped right back, starting to feel more than a bit annoyed with his cellmate. "I never have, and never will be, involved in an unfair fight - just because I'm with the Shadow Alliance it doesn't mean that I don't have a sense of honor!"

"Then what about Prue?!" Deirdre demanded. "Was that a fair fight, maybe? I don't think so!"

Prue? Zach look bewildered at the young Guardian, his annoyance forgotten. What the fuck was the girl talking about? Had she lost her mind, or had the drugs affected her harder than he'd originally thought?

"What do you mean, what about Prue? What the hell are you talking about?!" Zach asked exasperated.

"You people killed Prue!"

Zach took a step back, shocked at Deirdre's angry words. Part of him wanted to believe that she was lying, but the look of pure anguish in her eyes told him otherwise. He looked disbelieving at Deirdre, his mind desperately trying to catch up with her words.

"We *what*?!"

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Pain was the first thing Ryan became aware of. The constant pain from a lingering headache, and a faint throbbing in his shoulder, probably because of the hard floor he found himself resting on. Slowly, in an attempt to prevent the headache from getting any worse, Ryan opened his eyes and took a careful look around.

What he saw was not encouraging.

Four beds, and the bare walls of a cell - apparently a fairly new building judging from the lack of wear and tear. A sink in one corner, and a stall, probably the toilet. Small stacks of clothes placed on the beds with military precision.

This was bad news.

He frowned, trying to force himself to remember, and all too soon the harshness of reality returned to him. The checkpoint, the FoH, the pyrokinetic, the explosions, the fight-

No...

He tried to reach out with his mind, to search for his teammates, but found nothing but a black void - no emotions and no low hum of thoughts, not their comforting presence, not even the usual, mental 'background noise' was there. A sudden suspicion entered Ryan's mind, and with dawning fear he reached up and touched his throat.

A collar.

Damn!

He'd heard rumors of these so-called power-suppressive collars, a new technology the government was experimenting with, but up until now he'd never actually had the displeasure of coming into contact with one. Not without a certain difficulty, Ryan let his hand trace the collar, searching for a possible lock, but could only feel a small, round knob in the section of the metal that covered the back of his neck.

Ryan sighed softly. Trying to get the collar off would without doubt prove useless and would only serve to make him exhausted. He shook his head slightly, then fought back the discomfort and slowly managed to sit up without making the headache get too bad. Another look around, and for the first time he noticed the three other people in the cell. The one closest to himself instantly caught his attention.

"Ben..." Ryan whispered, moving closer to check on his friend. A slowly, steady pulse - unconsciousness, probably, or very deep sleep. He looked unharmed, too - no wounds or bruises from what Ryan could see, and his worry diminished a bit.

Relieved that his friend was okay, Ryan looked at the two other unmoving people. The younger of them was a blond boy, with scales covering part of his hands, continuing up his arms.

Viper, Ryan realized, recognizing the young mutant. So they didn't get out, either.

Somehow, the boy's presence didn't worry him - he had taken a brief look into Viper's mind once or twice, and found that the boy's way of thinking was very much like the snakes he so resembled. A calm, cool presence, and an almost unnaturally even temper - yes, Viper thought partially like a snake, and snakes did not attack unless provoked.

Fairly certain that the young mutant wouldn't be a threat to him and Ben, Ryan looked at the last of his cellmates and his eyes widened in recognition. Brown, spiky hair with the characteristic red tips, the black-framed glasses...

Jhonen.

Ryan watched his former teammate with a shocked expression on his face, slowly trying to come to terms with what he was seeing. After not having seen the boy in person for almost a week, his memory of Jhonen had slowly evolved from the innocent teenager into someone darker and more ruthless, especially after Diana had told him about the things Jhonen had done. The guilt had been easier to handle when he had been able to delude himself into thinking that Jhonen hadn't been as innocent as they'd thought. Ryan didn't hate Jhonen, though, and he wasn't sure if he would ever be able to - what he felt was the bitter taste of failure, and that failure became a little easier to handle when he could think of Jhonen as someone more cold and calculating.

But watching the boy now, unconscious on the floor, and resting his head on one arm, it became painfully obvious that while Jhonen might have changed sides, he was still innocent, and vulnerable, and heartbreakingly young.

A part of Ryan had desperately hoped that it was Jhonen himself who had made the choice of defecting - he would have felt better knowing that the boy had known what he was doing - but now...

Innocent, harmless Jhonen, who'd never been able to hurt anyone unless it was a matter of life and death...no. He hadn't known was he was doing. He had never had a choice - if he had, he wouldn't have left. He had been manipulated, plain and simple, and was slowly being twisted into something dark and ruthless against his will.

Suzuka had said that Jhonen followed Nike around like a puppy, and to Ryan that sounded all too likely. He knew how Nike thought and acted, and playing mindgames with an innocent teenage boy was just the kind of thing the Greek mercenary would find amusing.

Ryan sighed quietly, then let his eyes take in Jhonen's appearance. Not surprisingly, the boy hadn't changed much - after all, it was limited how much you could change in one week - but there *were* a few things. Faint lines around his eyes, almost invisible behind the glasses, but sill giving him a harder look. The clothes, too - the style was darker than the one Ryan had been used to seeing. Not much, but still enough to show that Jhonen *had* changed during his short time with the Shadow Alliance.

Jhonen moved slightly, waking up, and tore Ryan out of his musings. The younger mutant groaned slightly as he became aware of his headache and then slowly tried to sit up. Remembering his own first minutes awake, Ryan reached out and carefully pushed Jhonen down to the floor again.

"Don't try to move just yet - you're still affected by the drugs," he said softly, concern for the boy coming naturally. They *had* known each other for more than a year, and despite what Jhonen had done, Ryan found himself feeling genuine concerned for the boy.

The words, combined with the feeling that someone gently but firmly forced him to lie down again, blew away the last remains of the grogginess that engulfed Jhonen's mind. His eyes snapped open, and he found himself face to face with the last person he wanted to see.

Ryan.

Jhonen's eyes widened slightly, but he remained silent, not sure what to say.

"Hello, Jhonen."

Ryan's voice was quiet, tainted with pain, but there was still a hint of steel that told Jhonen that his former leader was far from broken, despite what Blade had done to him.

"Ryan..." he replied and carefully moved into a sitting position, never taking his eyes off the telepath. He had known that it was only a matter of time before he'd have to face his former team, but he had desperately hoped that it wouldn't be this soon. He wasn't ready, not yet.

Ryan just watched silently, mentally assessing the boy. Unlike that time in the warehouse, there was no guilt in Jhonen's eyes. Caution, yes, and regret, but not guilt. On some level it almost scared him - after the things that Jhonen had done, there should have been at least a hint of guilt, shouldn't there? Jhonen had betrayed his team - the people who had taken care of him when he needed it most - and then helped an infamous mercenary murder an innocent girl.

There should have been guilt. Any normal person would have showed some sign of guilt, but...

Jhonen looked away, uncomfortable with being the object of Ryan's unwavering attention, and Ryan closed his eyes briefly as he finally realized what had happened. He'd thought that Blade and Nike were still manipulating Jhonen, still trying to turn him into a dark creature that suited their purposes, but he had been wrong.

They weren't trying...they had already succeeded.

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