Meanwhile, Beast and Iceman were stalking through the halls, Beast slowly following Fox's scent.

"We've been walking a ways... Are you sure he's down here?" Bobby grumbled.

Beast turned to him, annoyed. "Dear Robert... if you yourself cannot answer that question, please never ask for my assistance in anything again." He snorted a bit, and went back to tracking. "... He's in here." They ducked into an unmarked room - the infirmary.

Fox blinked as the pair entered, recognizing the larger of the pair right off, blue fur was a distinct touch to ones appearance. He just continued to blink for a moment. "'Ow?" he questioned roughly, unable to manage more in his stunned surprise. This didn't seem possible, but there they were. Maybe he was dreaming, he moved a bit, a blistered burn sending a spasm of pain along him. Nope, this wasn't a dream.

"Take it easy, kid," Bobby quipped as they made their way over.

"Heavens," Hank murmured, studying the burns. "They got you good, didn't they, Fox..." He brushed his chin. "And Magneto has the key no doubt..."

"Indeed, I do," a dark voice said from behind, and they quickly turned on their heals.

Erik was smiling, a smile that might have been charming, perhaps, were it not for the cold, warning light in his eyes. Mystique stood beside him, silent, for the moment at least. "I see Charles wasted no time in sending out a rescue party for the riff-raff. But," he said, eyes drifting to the tank with Pyro in it, "he hardly seems to be the one in need of rescue."

Hank and Bobby glanced at each other, then looked back at Magneto, the most dangerous mutant of the Brotherhood.

"I assure you, Eric," Hank scoffed, "We know what you're up to. And we know what you are attempting to do with young Fox. I can guarantee you. You will not succeed."

"So bug off, old man!" Bobby hissed.

Erik seemed more amused then anything else. "Does Charles teach you nothing at that school of his," he questioned, mostly directing the words at Bobby. He held his arms out, several metallic items flying towards the pair.

Bobby sprayed his arms apart, and the metal thunked hard against the ice wall that he had forged between his team and Magneto. He let it fall, and it fell to the ground, shattering like glass. He stood ready for another assault. "They teach me better than you might think, Magneto."

Mystique had taken the distraction of the 'attack' to slip across the room unseen, Magneto keeping the assault up to keep the pair busy as she stood beside where Fox was strapped down, injecting him with a hallucinogen, shifting to the form of a bloody beat up Chameleon, shaking hard as tears rolled down her bloody cheeks. "Fox, help, please, they're after me?"

Fox stiffened, mind fighting the effects of the drug without success, falling to the illusion. "Who's afteh ya?" he questioned with a snarl.

As Chameleon pointed at Bobby and Beast, it wasn't them that he saw, but Sabertooth and Toad. His mind reeled, fury kicking in, a need to protect Chameleon at all costs, even if he was bound. His drugged mind not even working out how Chameleon had managed to escape, missing even that she had left from standing behind him.

Mystique shifted back, again using the cover of Magneto's attack to get back to him, smirking. "You see, X-Men, I already have succeeded..." With that he raised a magnetic shield about himself and Mystique, choosing this time for their exit, before the boy lost it...

Bobby stopped, but the room was already icy cold. He and Hank looked at each other, then back at Fox to see him struggling. "... Fox?" Bobby questioned warily.

Fox's eyes narrowed on 'Toad', still not seeing clearly, mind adding words that hadn't been spoken, threats. "NOO," he screamed out in frightened fury, reaching, trying, remembering what had happened to Pyro, remembering and seeking to repeat. His eyes burning blue fire as he just sought to spread pain to the other, sought to kill him for threatening Chameleon, tears were spilling down his cheeks, blisters popping by his thrashing bringing in pain with a renewed madness that only pushed the effects of the drug.

Hank grabbed his shoulders, careful as he tried, and pushed Fox down. "Fox! Get a hold on yourself, man, you're thrashing like a madman!" He stared into Fox's eyes... maybe too long. The great Beast staggered back, and let out a ripping howl of pain as Fox stared at him like that... wanting him dead, so badly. Beast fell to his knees, gripping his head. "Hhyur.... Rrrobert..."

Fox snarled, lashing out more violently, screaming out in pain and fury, they had Chameleon, he saw her, even though she wasn't there. "Dun touch 'er," he screamed, blasting out mentally, trying to kill them for touching her, trying to kill anyone who dared get near. She was scared, hurt, he would let no one touch her...

He heard a shout and a flash of red hair, as he suddenly saw Jean leaning over him. She was more mentally strong than others, and clasped her hands over Fox's temples, forcing him down, forcing him to relax and submit.

Fox whimpered, sinking down, crying as the madness of fury faded. Crying that he had failed to help Chameleon, crying because now he saw her dead, and he had nothing left, the drug still was in his system...

Jean took hold of Fox's shoulders and shook him slightly. "Fox! Wake up!!" she cried.

"Jean, hurry up!" she heard Scott yell from down the hall. "Chamille's injuries are very severe, we have to leave immediately!"

Fox whimpered, still not hearing correctly, trying only to push this block away, this new enemy that forced calm on him though he didn't want it. Desperation, he would have his revenge, but all this only because he couldn't hear, or rather, couldn't understand the yell that mentioned Chameleon being alive. "Die," he snarled back at a half whimper, trying to push this enemy back, trying to do something to hurt, to kill her for stopping him from protecting Chameleon, tears spilling down his cheeks, leaving distinct streaks to mark their passing.

Jean's head arched hard back as she felt the telepathic waves of rage and hate slam into her. Lucky enough for her, her shields were strong and in place when they came. Taking the open opportunity of his projecting thoughts, she slammed herself into his mind, and caressed his troubled thoughts. Quickly, he found it impossible to stay awake, slowly slipping towards the darkness...

Fox succumbed to the darkness only because he had no choice, almost as though it pulled at him, as though he had been tight in it's clutches before it even showed signs of it's coming. He had failed...the peace of darkness could not amend that to him...he had failed...

------------------

Fox didn't wake for several hours... maybe even days. The drug Magneto had given him made him sick to his stomach, even now. Slowly, light began to glow around his eyes, and as he opened them, the soft redheaded psychic he knew as his teacher was hovering over him, her hands touching his temples. Pain radiated from her touch, adding to the throbbing headache he had.

He groaned softly as he came awake, trying to sort things out, despite the pain in his head that thinking seemed only to make worse. He knew the woman, from the X-Men, but how was she here? Last he remembered was... was, he blinked several times in attempt to stop tears from forming in his eyes.

She pulled her hands from his temples, and smiled softly. "Good... You're awake. You're lucky, you know. No permanent injuries. And your burns are healing nicely."

Fox blinked a bit. "'Ow am ah lucky," he questioned roughly, "when dey... " he stopped short, words catching in his throat in what, had he allowed himself to continue, would have become a soft sob.

Jean's smile fell, and she looked concerned, obviously. "Fox... What is it...?" She touched his forehead again, brushing his thoughts ever so softly. It didn't take much to pick up on it. "... Chameleon...?"

"Dey killed 'er," he whimpered, "I saw ih, I could'n stop ih, ah tried." His voice cut short again as his eyes fell in pain and guilt at his failure.

She blinked, and a wave of anger ran over her. "Mystique... that bitch. I didn't think even SHE could stoop this low..." She turned to Fox, and slowly helped him into a seated position. "Fox... Chameleon... she's alive. She's being worked on right now by some of the others."

Fox's jaw dropped. "She's nah dead," he questioned in a stunned shock. The stunned shock drifted from his face quickly, curiosity about the first statement could wait. "She gonna be aight?"

She nodded a little. "So far as we can tell, yes, she'll survive. Her torture was extensive, and scaring will be inevitable. Also..." Her face fell. "When Toad fell on her, he crushed one of her lower most vertebra, and we can't be sure if it severed her spinal cord or not... We'll have to wait... but... there is a chance that..."

Fox closed his eyes, he didn't want the woman to continue, didn't want what would link to that to be true. "An'," he began, changing the subject rather abruptly so as to avoid it for the moment, "if she didn' die, wha'd ah see?"

"From what I could gather from Hank and Bobby, you saw Mystique... and then saw what she wanted you to see. You would have attacked them if you hadn't been bonded down... along with me."

Fox closed his eyes tightly for a moment. "I'm sa sorry," he said softly at scarce above a whisper, "I didn' hur' nah un, did I?"

She gently touched his shoulder. "No... Not at all... The sedative was still too strong."

He gave a hint of a nod in reply, his gaze falling, and despite all he tried he could not bring himself to raise his head. That out of the way left only the matter of Chameleon, which... He didn't want to think about it, didn't want to think about what damage had been done to her, on his account.

Jean looked up as Xavier and Ororo left the treatment room. Charles and Jean looked at each other for a moment, and Charles nodded a bit. Jean looked down at Fox as the others left. "You want to go see her?"

Fox finally brought his gaze upwards and he gave a forced nod. He didn't want too, not now, but he needed to, even he knew that.

She slid off the bed, and waited for him to follow. "I can't guarantee she's awake... We had to sedate her. She wouldn't stay still to let us treat her... She wanted to come to you... even with a broken back..."

Fox winced slightly at that, pushing himself from the bed and fighting a mixture of nausea and the fact that the room seemed to spin for a moment. He recognized the feeling well enough, like the down end of a trip, a very bad trip, or a hangover from alcohol, and from that an explanation of how he'd been made to see what he had entered his mind. His pause was only a moment in length, and then he picked up following the woman once more.

Jean led him into the observation room. A heart monitor bleeped in rhythm off to the side. Chameleon's eyes were closed, head slightly tilted to the side. Bandages covered almost all of her, and there were stitches in her cheek and chin from a cut that sliced from her ear down the law of her jaw and cheek, to her collar bone on the other side. Jean stepped back, and closed the doors, letting him alone with Chameleon.

"Hey beautifu'," he said softly as he approached her, almost unable to take the steps in sheer pain, not physical, but emotional. How could those bastards have done this to her?

Chameleon slightly stirred on the bed at the sound of Fox's voice, and a moan of pain came from her as she began to awake. Her eyes didn't even open as she slightly turned her head, the oxygen mask over her face muffling her voice. Despite it, her call was unmistakable. "Fox..." she whispered softly, forcing her eyes opened. Her head was throbbing, and her vision was a blur, full of tears.

Fox came right beside her, scarcely able to keep his eyes on her, unable to turn away. "I'm heh Chameleon," he said softly, voice gentle yet strained.

She looked into his eyes, and tears slowly fell down her cheeks. His face answered all her questions about if she was alright or not. "... I'm sorry, Fox," she whispered, closing her eyes for a moment. "I..." She let out a sob. "Don't leave me..."

Fox closed his eyes, "Dun be sorry, nuttin' was yer faul' ya did nuttin' wrong. If ih weren' foh me," he paused and fell silent for a long while. when he spoke again his voice was strained and barely audible. "I won' leave, nah now... Buh.. I t'ink I may lateh... I'm a dangeh ta ya an' any'un I geh close ta..."

She let out a sob. "Please, Fox... don't leave me... I love you... I'm nothing without you..." Tears spilled down her cheeks, and she looked up at him.

Fox whimpered, "An' look wha happen's wid me, an' ih may geh worse. Ah may 'urt ya, nah meanin' ta." He clenched and unclenched his fists, fighting the urge to pace. "I'm nuttin' widout ya eitheh' Chameleon... buh, fer ya, I'd give up bein' anyt'in..."

"Please... Fox..." She felt the blackness coming again, shaking as she fought it. "Please... I... love... you... Fox..." Two more tears slid from her cheeks, as she passed out.

Fox's head fell and he stood there a long while, holding at bay tears that burned his eyes as he dug fingernails into mostly healed skin, ignoring the pain that doing so caused. The words Magneto said earlier echoing in his mind, memory of what they had been willing to do to Chameleon to get him. He couldn't allow someone to hurt her for his sake again, couldn't leave himself where HE might hurt her. It was time to leave again, this time for the sake of her whom he cared about more then life itself. He turned away from her, heading towards the exit of the room. "Bye Chameleon," he said softly before walking out the door.

As he left the medical bay, Logan was waiting for him. His arms were crossed over his chest, looking straight at Fox, a solemn look on his face. Beside him was a back pack, and a gym bag. He tucked his arms in a little tighter. "... I can' tell ya if yer doin' the right thing, kid... But I do know that yer heart's in the righ' place doin' it." He motioned to the bags beside him. "'Member what I taught ya... Come back someday, a' least t'visit." With that, he pushed off the wall, and turned away. "... Good luck." And then, he was gone.

Fox blinked, startled, not having expected that, "Thanks," he murmured softly before examining the bags quickly and pulling out what he needed to complete his normal ensemble clothing wise. He had the hood of the hoodie up, using it to shadow his face as he pulled the backpack onto his back and slung the gym bag over one shoulder. Running a gloved hand along the wall as he walked he made for the exit, wondering if anyone would try to stop him, wondering for the barest moment, if this was the right decision, but, it was the only decision, right or no, he couldn't back out of it.

No one attempted to stop him, no one seemed to even suspect he was leaving. A storm was brewing outside, and as he left the mansion, it began to sprinkle. He could not turn back now...no matter how wanted to. He pushed his hands into his pockets, head drifting slightly downwards for just a moment before he brought his gaze back up, leaving the mansion.