Disclaimer: MutantX and its associated characters, locales, etc. are the property of Tribune Entertainment et alia and no copyright infringement of any kind is intended by the writing of this fiction. Non-canonical characters and locales (viz. Father Awa and St. John of the Cross church) are my own and I would appreciate it if other writers would obtain permission before using them.

Author's Note: Again, I can't say enough about how much the reviews are spurring me on with this story. I've known from the beginning how I basically wanted it to go (I actually have the concluding scene written, but not what comes before it!) but as I'm being encouraged I've been adding a lot to the basic outline. Please continue to offer your constructive criticism and thoughts. I anticipate there being about two chapters to go after this one, possibly three.

It may seem like I'm being a little unfair to Jesse in this story, but most of this story is based out of the first two episodes, and in those episodes, Jesse seems to have a fairly cautious nature, and though friendly to Brennan, he doesn't seem quite sure what to make of him. And Brennan isn't overly friendly to him, either; he pushes past Jesse after Jesse springs them from Eckhart's cage almost without a word, then later rejects Jesse's attempt at friendship (thanking him for the warning look at the safehouse. "You're just lucky I missed."). Jesse and Brennan's relationship builds slowly through the first season – I don't remember what episode it's from, but I remember Jesse saying something along the lines of "You keep pulling this criminal rank on me." I'm trying to make Jesse's actions very human, very protective of his team. Plus, it advances the plot. ;)

Please note: italics can indicate either personal thought, emphasis, or a flashback scene. Context should make it clear.

Crisis of Faith – Chapter Four

By Deichtine

Brennan spent about an hour after Mike walked away just driving around the city. His mind was preoccupied, and before he realized what he was doing, he had turned down the familiar side streets, and he soon found himself back in his old neighborhood. It had been nigh on four months since he'd been there last, but nothing seemed to have changed.

Slowly, slowly he cruised past his old apartment building, and his mind wandered, unbidden, back to the last time he'd been there. It was the same day he'd accepted a place in Mutant X, and after the ring ceremony Jesse had come with him to pick up his things.

Brennan opened the door and immediately began packing, while Jesse gazed around at the tiny bachelor suite.

"You live here?" Jesse asked incredulously.

"I sleep here," he corrected him over his shoulder, tossing the book from the bedside table into a duffle bag, then covering it with an armload of dirty laundry from the floor.

"It's so...I don't know. The way you dress, I'd have expected something more..." Jesse trailed off, seeming to realize that going on would only plant his foot more deeply into his mouth.

"More classy? Bigger? Nah. Jesse, when your whole life depends on your image, you invest your money into your appearance and your skills. It doesn't matter where your bed is or if you even have one. In my world, that's not where you live. Where you live is out on the streets, building your rep, building an image. That's how you get clients like-" He was going to say, 'like Brad Carter', but changed his mind. Jesse didn't need to know about that. "That's how you get the upscale clients, the big jobs."

Jesse nodded thoughtfully, opened the fridge, and immediately shut it again. "Nothing from in there is coming with us," he proclaimed, in a voice that brooked no disagreement.

"No arguments here." There was silence for a few moments then, as Brennan cleared out the closet and Jesse poked about ineffectually.

Finally, Jesse burst out, "I just don't get it. How could you live like this?"

Brennan dropped to his knees to reach for a box pushed far under the bed. "Like what?" he grunted, a little irritated.

"With no real home."

"What do you think this is?"

'This isn't a home. It's a storage space for your stuff. How do you stand it?"

Brennan hauled the box out and put it on top of the duffel bag without ever looking inside. "Look, Jesse, I haven't had what you would consider a home since I was ten years old, and even then there were a lot of nights I'd have preferred to have spent on the streets. Can we just drop it, please?"

Brennan had been barely creeping the car past the old apartment building, but as he passed it, he came back to himself and allowed his foot to fall heavily on the accelerator. There was no point in trying to feel nostalgia for that place. It hadn't been a home. It had been a flop.

And now Sanctuary was supposed to be his home. But Brennan had told Jesse the truth that day; he didn't know how to have a home anymore. What did it even mean?

Whatever it was, Brennan wasn't sure he could ever feel that way about Sanctuary. He wouldn't be there long enough anyway.

-----

Monday night, Brennan and the two girls had gone out on a routine mission to pick up a young mutant headed to the underground, but Jesse had remained behind, pleading a headache. They had not been gone long, however, when Jesse rose from the compute terminal where he'd been working and went in search of his team leader.

Adam was sitting in the lounge, the closest to idle Jesse had ever seen him. A half-eaten plate of stuffed grape leaves was balanced precariously on the arm of the chair. He had an engineer's sketchpad on his knee, a pencil in his hand, and a small recorder nearby to tape his spoken ruminations as he sketched out a rough design for a new device. From what Jesse could see of the designs, he couldn't make heads nor tails of its purpose, but he doubted he would want to be on the wrong end of the finished product.

"Um, Adam, got a second?"

"Sure, Jesse, what's up? Feeling better?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." Jesse sat down, elbows on spread knees, hands clasped but with fingers fidgeting nervously. "Um... Adam, I have a confession to make."

Adam, seeing his young protégé's serious manner, set his sketch pad aside. "Go on."

As Adam listened, Jesse recounted how he'd watched Brennan leaving Sanctuary, how secretive and close the Elemental had seemed, how he'd followed him the day before.

"And yesterday, I caught up with him just in time to see him meeting up with this man." Jesse produced a photo printout from his pocket. "Michael Azarello. A known felon from Brennan's old neighbourhood. He's got a rap sheet as long as my arm and he's under suspicion for more.

"I know I shouldn't have, Adam, but I listened in on some of their conversation." He pressed a control on the computer pad he'd brought with him, and Brennan's voice sprang from its speakers.

Adam said nothing as Jesse replayed the recorded exchange between Mike and Brennan. "is that everything?" the older man asked when it was finished, and Jesse had turned it off.

"Yeah. Adam, I shouldn't have invaded Brennan's privacy, I know; it was wrong. But dammit, Adam, if he hasn't left that life behind, if he's still going to be sneaking off and robbing banks while we're all in bed, it puts the whole team at risk."

Adam rested his chin on his steepled fingers. "You're right, Jesse. You shouldn't have followed him, or invaded his privacy. You should have come to me the moment you thought something was wrong." He sighed heavily. "But you are also right that this looks very bad for Brennan. As much as I hate to admit that I might have been wrong about him, we have to face the possibility that he's not the man I thought he was."

Jesse nodded, and met Adam's eyes sadly. "I like him too, Adam."

Adam nodded. "I'll have a talk with him. Thank you for telling me about this." With that, he got up and walked away, leaving Jesse alone with his thoughts in the lounge.

-----

Mike Azarello was furious. His failure to bring in the promised electronics whiz, combined with his lateness to the meeting, had spooked the paranoid client Sunday morning, and now Mike had learned that it had cost him the job. Damn Brennan! How could he have done this to him, his oldest, closest friend? How dared he?

Mike strode through the streets in a dark cloud of emotion, forcing himself to turn the wrenching feelings of hurt, betrayal, abandonment into cold fury, in a defense mechanism older by far than his friendship with Brennan Mulwray.

The man he thought of as closer than brother had just ruined his best chance to move up out of the streets to something better, but he would get his. Let's see how long Brennan can cling to Jesus and this new life of his from behind bars. Reaching into the pocket of his jacket, he pulled out a cell phone, punched in the programming that would make his call untraceable, and dialed a number.

"Yes, is this the tips line? I have information for you on a robbery that took place about four months ago, at the Hickman and Wrightson Securities building. The man responsible is named Brennan Mulwray. I don't know where he is now, but I bet I can tell you where he will be..."

End chapter 4.