(Five)

When Kimble first woke, he was in the Black Room. He was in the circle of light on a hard floor, splayed out on his belly. He groaned and got up on his hands and knees, bringing a string of bloody spittle with him from the floor. He wiped at his mouth, disgusted at the sight of it, of his weakness. He saw Seth cowering with fear, half in, half out of the light. His brother was covering his ears, but looking at him with nothing but concern.

"Ughh...What happened?" Kimble wheezed. He honestly couldn't remember.

"You let your temper get away from you again," Seth said, his face wet with tears. All of the day's violence was too much for him to bear. "What's wrong with you? He's like Valentin, you know. You shouldn't piss him off. He could kill you!"

"He ain't gonna hurts me."

Bold words and an empty threat considering his present condition.

"Go see Fallen, she'll help you. She can take the pain away," Seth advised.

"How she gonna do that- ?" he started to ask, but was suddenly transported back to the real world, his real body had woken up, wrenching him violently away.

Back on the galley floor, Kimble twitched and groaned as he slowly became more aware.

" 'E's wakin' up, doc," Gambit said from close by.

Kimble managed to get his ass end up off the floor before an enormous wall of pain slammed into his head, forcing a gasped sob of pain from his lips still plastered to the ground. He didn't know if he'd ever felt this much pain before and he wasn't sure how much more of this he could take. A bloody, raging animal scream was rising up in his throat and he choked on it. He wanted to be so done with this. He wanted no more pain. It was becoming less and less worth it to be out, he was getting slammed from all sides.

Kimble tried to open his eyes, but they didn't seem to be working. He groaned again and attempted once more to rise. His body obeyed, but his head wouldn't leave the floor. He reached out and grasped one of the metal benches, using it to heave himself up. He was hit with a bad case of vertigo and he retched hard, coughing up a thick pool of grey hologram gel on to the bench. It shimmered, sparkling blue, and disappeared like a ghost.

" 'E ain't lookin' too good," Remy commented again, his voice tight with worry. While Kimble may have appreciated the concern, words alone weren't going to help him right now.

Large warm hands gripped him, pulling him to his feet. He opened the one eye that still worked and all he saw was blue fur. He sagged onto Beast, shivering and whining like a dog that had been kicked. The pain evolved into a throbbing ache on the left side of his face and tears spilled from his eyes. All the bravery in him was gone, all there was left was the poor wounded child.

"Gently," Henry coaxed.

Kimble found his feet and lurched to one side, reaching for the counter to steady himself. He grabbed it and after a minute of desperate shaking was able to stand on his own. He wiped his mouth with a trembling hand, trying desperately to focus. He could only see out of the one eye and everything was blurry. His nose was still leaking gel, the injury disturbed by his rising, and he wiped at it impatiently, disgusted by the sensation of bleeding. He felt the wetness on his hand and looked at it stupidly, surprised to see more grey gel. That was funny, in all of his dreams, his blood was always red. He felt his gorge rise again, but he kept it down.

"Feeling any better now?" Henry asked, concerned.

Kimble didn't answer. He had to get out of here, he'd had more than enough, and needed the security of his Mistress. Nothing else mattered except finding the will to get to her. It would be no easy feat, he was completely trashed. He put a hand against the side of his head that hurt the most and wrapped his other arm around his aching stomach. He hauled his ocean of misery out of the galley, wincing with each step as though he'd swallowed glass, and shuffled drunkenly to Fallen's lav. Henry followed a pace behind, making sure he didn't fall.

Logan was on his way out when he saw Kimble coming. He was shocked silent at Kimble's condition, he didn't realize how fragile Kimble was and couldn't squash a surge of guilt. The hologram clearly wasn't designed for the kind of abuse he'd dished out. Logan paused and let Kimble pass.

Kimble staggered by him and sagged against the back wall of the lav, waiting for Wolverine to leave. Even in this moment of weakness, Kimble didn't want to give Logan the satisfaction of watching him collapse.

"My God!" Fallen cried. She looked at Logan, furious. "What did you do to him!"

"Nuthin' he didn't ask for." His voice was calm.

She knew Kimble too well to argue. "Get out!" Fallen hissed at Wolverine, her eyes blazing.

Logan obeyed, leaving them alone.

Fallen looked up at her bruised and battered champion and said gently, "Hey, tough guy."

Kimble shuffled towards her, his hand still pressed to his head. He dropped down to his knees in front of her and put his head in her lap with a whimper. "Helps me, Fallen!" he cried, breaking down into hacking sobs.

She lay her hands on him, concerned. In all the time she'd known him, she'd never seen him this distraught so many times in such a short period of time. Whatever was going on with him, it was getting worse. She bent over him and cried out in surprise as his body took a good sized draw of Ristle from her.