(Five)

Kimble spent the night in the infirmary. Henry had called Fallen and she came down to be with him. He was quiet and spent most of the time laying still as if he was sleeping, but Fallen knew that his quiet simply meant he had been terribly frightened. She sincerely hoped this meant he would stay out of trouble. Sometimes the kid has to burn his fingers on the stove to learn not to touch the flame. She crawled into the bed with him and slept next to him, wrapping him up tight in her arms. Kimble knew she was there and held one of her tiny hands in his, rubbing the back of it with his thumb in a calming, repetitive gesture. He wouldn't let her go until the morning came and he knew she wanted to get back to work on Seth's codes. He was calm by then and appropriately regretful for his mistake so she left him alone.

Henry ordered Kimble to stay in the lab the rest of the day for two reasons. The first was to keep an eye on him and make sure he was all right. The other was to keep him out of trouble. He found some tasks around the place to keep Kimble busy, mostly housekeeping that he had fallen behind on. Kimble didn't argue but did as he was told.

It was just after lunch when Kimble heard the soft whir of the Professor's chair coming down the hallway towards the Lab. When he saw Charles come in, he cringed back in the one of the secluded areas and hid.

The Professor looked around but didn't see Kimble anywhere. It was frustrating to him that he couldn't pick up Kimble telepathically, he had no idea if the pilot was lurking nearby. Charles smiled as he saw Henry walked over from the back. Beast didn't notice Charles right away, but he nodded at Kimble as he passed, revealing the location of the troublesome pilot. Beast had seen Kimble hiding there off and on during the day, so it was no big surprise to find Kimble there. Henry then saw the Professor and smiled. "Good morning, sir."

"And how is your young charge?"

"He is better. He's had quite a fright."

The Professor rolled off a small distance to speak with Henry privately. "Is it true he created telekinetic weapons?"

"Yes, sir, I'm afraid it is. He is quite powerful. Much stronger than his Mistress, or he would be with proper training. He has no clue how to use his power and reacted instinctively when he had been attacked."

"It's a shame I didn't get to see him in action. There's just so much about him I don't know."

"For reasons he would not explain, Wolverine deleted the Danger Room file before I could get to it. I haven't seen Kimble use his power myself. What I do have are some of his spikes."

"The spikes remain?" the Professor asked, stunned. Most items created telekinetically fizzled out and disappeared once the user's attention was diverted elsewhere.

"Oh, yes. They are quite remarkable."

Henry walked away and returned with some of Kimble's spikes wrapped up in a towel. They were still quite gruesome with the artificial blood stained on the sides. Henry hadn't gotten around to cleaning them all. "Look. They are crystalline and very durable. They are hard as diamonds."

The Professor took one and felt it, surprised to actually be holding this in his hands. "What is it constructed of? It isn't glass."

"I'm not sure what it is, but I want to run some tests later. I'll let you know what I find out."

"Have you ever seen this before?"

"Yes, once. Kyle Franks."

"Ah, yes. He was here while I was away with the Shi'ar. I never met him."

"He was a powerful telekinetic and could make spikes like this. I've got some of Kyle's hanging around. I'll do a comparison."

"Henry...you witnessed the playback of Kimble's files?"

"Yes."

"I asked Remy to write up a report of what happened, but of course he hasn't done it yet. I need information on this creature and as soon as possible. I need to know just how disturbed he is and how dangerous."

"Kimble's not really disturbed, sir. Just neglected."

"Perhaps so, but I can't get his situation under control without help. I need information. I've even considered having Karen Richards come by and pay him a visit."

"Karen Richards? The psychologist who works with mutants?"

"Yes. She's got an office close by. I could probably persuade her to come over and talk to him."

"Anything would be helpful right now," Henry agreed.

"Did you get the item I requested?"

"Yes," Henry replied, reaching into his pocket to hand over a small black bracelet. "I'm just not sure this is the best idea."

"Until Kimble's under some kind of control, I fear I have no choice. He puts himself and others at risk."

Henry could only nod his assent and left to retrieve Kimble. He found him cowering behind some cabinets and dragged him out, placing him at the Professor's feet.

Kimble found himself in front of the big boss in the wheelchair once more and he dropped down immediately, whimpering and groveling in fear and shame. He just knew this was going to be bad.

"Kimble, look at me," the Professor ordered in a calm yet firm voice.

Kimble looked up, his face wet with tears. He trembled with real fear and waited for the axe to fall. "Y-yes, sir?"

"You know that you've done wrong."

"Not exactly. I didn't touch nobody what was real."

"You broke into a room you had no authority to enter. You illegally copied an X-man's voice to do it. That would be breaking more rules, don't you agree?"

"Y-yes, sir," Kimble replied, his voice cracking with shame and humiliation.

"This is now the third time I've had to speak to you."

Kimble broke down and started to bawl. "Don' makes Fallen leave! Please don' throws her out! She ain't done nuthin'! It wuz me! It's always me!"

Kimble's breakdown startled the Professor, he would not have expected such an outburst from what appeared to be a grown man. It was just another reminder that Kimble wasn't what he seemed to be. "Easy, son. No one's going to throw anyone out, but this sort of thing can't continue without some kind of repercussion. You understand this?"

Kimble nodded and accepted his fate. Here it comes. The box now, it had to be.

"It seems you have difficulty obeying the order to stay where it is safe for you. Put this on."

Kimble cocked his head in confusion when the Professor handed him a bracelet. He took it and put it on. It clicked shut with a beep and an orange light came on. "Wh-what is it?" he asked, wiping at his face.

"It's a tracking bracelet. It lets us know at all times where you are. If you take it off an alarm will sound off. It also won't allow you to phase. This will keep you put for a while, I hope. If this doesn't work, we may be forced to put you in one of the holding cells until you finally see how your behavior endangers you and those around you."

Kimble cringed and shuddered noticeably at the thought of being locked up. The Professor saw this and recognized it for what it was. "You've been locked up before?"

Kimble didn't answer, but turned his face away.

"He was incarcerated back on Siska," Henry replied, remembering the playback of Kimble's files. "The day the Dognan came and took him away. After his father had died."

"For what reason?"

"Because he was different, sir," Henry said a little harshly, letting the Professor know that he believed Kimble's problems were trivial and not entirely his own fault.

Kimble looked up at Henry in surprise. He hadn't expected anyone to come to his defense. One look at the Professor told him it hadn't helped.

The Professor sighed, frustrated by his lack of knowledge of Kimble's history. "Kimble, no one here wants to lock you away or punish you. I just don't understand why you keep getting into trouble. You hide yourself away and make no effort to befriend anyone here. How are we to get to know you better? I can see you are curious, but you have to able to comprehend that what you're doing is dangerous. You could have killed someone with your spikes."

"Someone changed the 'gram on me!" Kimble blurted out with renewed tears, spitting in his humiliation and rising rage. "I wuzn't hurtin' nobody!"

The Professor sat back and scowled at the sight of this grown man sobbing and whining like a baby. He was dealing with an outraged child. "Yes, I know that. It has already been dealt with," he said sternly in his own defense.

"You gonna put them inna box, too, huh!"

"No. He was spoken to just as I am speaking to you now. It won't happen again," Charles replied, not being entirely honest. Warren was chewed out and properly humiliated, but the punishment had gone no further than that. Warren respected the Professor for the lecture to be enough. Plus the winged man was still in counseling, this incident would be reported to his councillor and be discussed. Charles didn't think any more than that was needed. Warren had been shaken by what Kimble had done.

" 'S so unfair! None of yous like me! You all fuckin' pick on me an' nobody does nuthin'!"

"Watch your language when you are speaking to me, young man," Charles scolded sharply. While he understood Kimble was upset, he didn't want to lose control of the situation by allowing rough language. "There is no need for it."

"Why? None of yous like me. Yer gonna put me inna box no matter what I do. 'S jus' a matter of time," Kimble said, rising. He wiped at his face, his anger making him lose his respect for the man before him. He was beginning to see everyone as the enemy now. He would never be accepted as real by these people. They would never see him for who or what he was. They could lock him up for all he cared, Kimble was done with this.

"Where are you going?" the Professor asked in a rising, perplexed voice when the pilot who had been groveling at his feet only moments before started to walk away from him.

Kimble raised his fist at him, showing him the bracelet. "Looks like I ain't goin' nowheres. This place fuckin' sucks," he replied, placing as much emphasis on the word 'fucking' as possible, his own verbal protest. " 'S no better than one big fuckin' box. I ain't never seen a bigger bunch of life suckin', spirit breakin' fuckers in my whole life. Shoulda jus' let Joe bleed me out an' leave me ta rot when he killed me. Evraone woulda been happier not havin' me around', trippin' up under yer feet like some stupid smelly dog with no Master."

"Kimble, wait," Henry said, putting a big blue hand on his shoulder. "No one thinks that about you. Stop this."

Kimble shrugged his arm off, his eyes angry and mean. "You ain't no good at lyin' so don' even bother tryin'. Don' worry, I won' be no more trouble. You won' even fuckin' sees me, how's about that, huh? I'm just gonna find some big dark fuckin' hole an' crawl in it an die. What do ya know about that?"

"Kimble -"

"Jus' shut up!" Kimble snapped and shoved Henry away. "Jus' shut up and leaves me alone! I'm outta here!" He wiped at his face again and stomped out.

"I have had enough of this," Charles said, rubbing his temples. He wasn't angry with Kimble, only his lack of proper control, and emotional immaturity. The boy was distressed and required some real management, not the lackadaisical care he had been getting these past days. "Get Fallen on the phone and have her come here immediately. He belongs to her, she should be taking care of him."

"I'm not sure it's Fallen he wants," Henry said, thinking of Remy.

"She is his Mistress and had better start owning up to it. Gambit has other priorities and I'm not certain he's been the best influence on Kimble."

"I disagree. If it weren't for Gambit, Kimble would be worse."

"Let's just separate the two of them for while and see what happens. It's too convenient for Fallen to use Remy as a babysitter. That can't be allowed to happen."

"Yes, sir," Henry said with a resigned sigh and reached for the phone.