(Four)

It was late evening when Gambit lay on a sleeping bag, propped up with a chair pillow Henry had so thoughtfully provided. He was in the back of the Danger Room, his motivations selfish - he wanted a whole room of mutants between his Siskans and the door. Both Kimble and Seth were on either side of him. Kimble was asleep with Angel beside him and Seth was on his other side, his trusty laptop open and fired up. Kimble didn't see much of his brother but every six months he presented Seth with the newest, most expensive unit available. Kimble's excuse was that he needed something to spend his money on, Sabretooth had left him well provided for. Of course Seth had already modified it with special battery packs he had made, it had a continuous power source and was as good as plugged in.

Kimble's twin was fast at work, viewing videotaped footage of the Central Park Disaster. He was using a powerful program he had designed to focus in on Sheba's ship. The footage wasn't that great, the ship was wrecked and hard to see once it had crashed, but something nagged at him. He was also doing his best to work with the audio as well.

Remy lay next to him and watched, a small smile on his lips. He loved his Siskans very much. Seth was like a child, very innocent in spite of being very knowledgeable around technology. He had been carefully sheltered to prevent the madness that had damaged his brother, Kimble hadn't done well in the short time he had spent out in the real world.

Gambit was about to ask a question when he heard a sound he had never expected to hear ever again. Seth had raised the volume on the sound of the battle, right as the plasma bursts were fired. The machines he was listening to didn't sound like any Earth vessels Remy had ever heard before, but he still recognized it well enough.

"Son of a bitch!" Seth cursed softly, surprising Remy a little. Seth seldom swore.

"Not so good, eh, mon petite fils?"

Seth startled at the sound of Gambit's voice, but smiled. He thought the thief had fallen asleep, he'd been so quiet. "Hey."

" 'Ey, y'self, dere, buddy. Sounds like we got some trouble."

"Recognized it, huh?"

"Bien sur. Was 'opin' never to 'ear de sound of it again. Question is, what's it doin' 'ere?"

The two men had recognized the sound as the shrill whine of a Dognan fighter plane. "It must be Jael, but why would he crash ships like that? A sword fight right out in the open? This is a bit extreme for him. More than the usual café bombing," Seth said, thinking out loud. "I hope this isn't the beginning of an invasion."

"Don't t'ink so. Can't explain why, but it just don't seem deir style. Dey would come in bigger dan dis. It must be Jael in 'is own. P'etetre, dere was some kind a fight an' de buildin's jus' got in de way."

"Hmm. Interesting theory. Maybe it was a territorial thing."

"P'etetre, Jael done come lookin' fo' some angels, fils. 'E playin' de Game."

Seth turned to him, his eyes a little wide. "No... Wouldn't he have done that a long time ago?"

Gambit recalled the warning he had been given of the players of the Game seeking Siskans and their Angels. Jael wasn't the only one collecting. Maybe some other Dognan guy had come here challenging Jael and trying to steal his Siskans away. If this was so, then things were really heating up. Kimble would need to be protected even more than before.

"Mebbe de litte morceau de merde 'ad to consolidate 'is power, or mebbe 'e just 'ad to wait fo' de fight to come to 'im. Not too many Siskans livin' ere, y' know?"

Seth minimized the program for a moment. He had just gotten a chime that his favorite news site had been updated. "My God..."

"Ten t'ousand dead..." Remy breathed in a pained wheeze. Ten thousand dead — at least. It had only been a few hours, but already twenty thousand more were missing. Usually the death toll from a typical Jael bombing was quite a bit lower than that. The guestimate of ten thousand dead was being optimistic.

Worse than that were the scenes of people screaming for mutant blood. As far as the public was concerned, this was mutant thing. That big cat fight on the Central Park field pretty much confirmed that.

"Maybe Jael won't come here, but those folks might," Seth offered in a frightened whisper. "They'll come and hurt us!"

Remy scootched a bit closer and gave Seth a squeeze. "Non, non, fils. Relax, Jael got all dat firepower, 'e get spanked every time 'e come 'ere. John Q. Public got none of dat. 'Fessor X got shit buried in de front yard dat'll blow up a fuckin' tank never mind all de folks we got in 'ere keepin' watch. Besides, dis room 'ere fifty feet underground, got some damn good shields on it, too. Not even one of dem nuclear bombs can bust us outta 'ere."

"I'm glad you're here," Seth said, snuggling close. He missed his Mistress and Gambit was a good substitute. Remy was always so optimistic and easy to offer comfort. He was also a damn good hugger, too.

"Me, too, fils. How about you play dat video back again."

"Okay."

They watched and listened for a few minutes longer before Remy felt a strange buzzing in his head. It was like someone was trying to talk to him telepathically, but the words were all jumbled up. He couldn't deny a note of panic there and he was instantly on guard. He turned and looked behind him. " 'Ey, where's Kim and Angel at? Dey was dere a minute ago."

"He's not there?"

"Non." Remy looked around him, but saw only the empty sleeping bags. He must have been so busy with Seth he had never noticed that Kimble had risen and taken Angel with him. Nervous now, but not ready to panic, he hauled himself up and went to the door guard. "Kim pass by here?"

"Yeah, he went to the john. Took his kid in with him."

Remy stepped out of the open Danger Room door and peered down the hallway. The lower level was on a Yellow Alert which meant everyone was down here, but that some of the more senior folks were free to mill about out here and keep the younger ones from bolting for their Gameboys. Remy crossed the hall and went to the Men's Room. He poked his head inside and saw Angel standing there, looking up at him eagerly as if she had been expecting him. "Daddy's sick again."

The words weren't even out of her mouth before he heard Kimble cough loudly and the sound of gel hitting the water of the toilet. Siskans don't have bodily organs, Kimble didn't have a stomach. The food he ate was digested by his gel, it was why he consumed only tiny portions at a time. Siskans don't normally vomit, but Kimble did when he was badly stressed. Stressed to the point of breaking.

Remy realized now that the buzzing in his head had been a telepathic message from Angel. He had been told she was mildly telepathic even at her young age, but it had never been directed at himself before. The thoughts hadn't been focused, it was simple distress call.

He gave her head a pat to reassure her then next hobbled over to Kimble's stall. He leaned his crutches against the wall and opened the door, the pilot hadn't locked it. Remy grunted in pain and surprise when he cracked it open, he was slammed with a powerful vibration of terror that could only have come from Kimble.

/ He's coming! He's coming for me! Kimble's body was screaming. / He's gonna kill us all. Ten thousand! Ten thousand dead! It's all my fault! He's gonna come an' kill us all an' it's all my fault! There's blood everywhere! It's all over me!

Damnit! Kimble was listenin'. Should've known better! Remy chided himself as he shivered from the blast. He could feel his head swirling as he was struck next by Kimble's nausea.

The vibration was interrupted only by Kimble heaving again. Remy boldly took another step forward and looked inside. Kimble was scrunched around the bowl, his face flushed and his eyes glassy. His cheeks were wet with tears and he was trembling violently as if he was fevered. The gel was shimmering in the water, grey then pink, then it was gone altogether. The gel always did that once it left the heat of Kimble's body, a mystery no one could ever explain.

Remy hopped closer, holding onto the walls for support. "What's goin' on, Kim?" he asked firmly, showing his concern and demanding an answer. "Why you doin' dis?"

"T-ten.. th-thousand...!" Kimble gasped and then convulsed before heaving once more.

Remy eased down to the floor as best he could and when the Siskan was done spitting up, forcibly dragged Kimble up against him. One good thing about the gel was that it had no smell, at least Kimble didn't reek of vomit. Gambit snarled when he was hit with another wave of Kimble's panic, his friend was hysterical and teetering on the edge of panic. He squeezed the pilot brutally close and let go with a large pulse of Kundatesh, willing the Siskan to calm down.

Gambit glanced up at Angel. "Go get 'Enry in de Lab. Fast fast, s'il vous plait!"

She nodded and left.

Remy felt Kimble's hysteria come down a little, he was responding to the Kundatesh the thief had released. "You listen up now, Kim," Gambit ordered, tipping the pilot's head up to lock his eyes. "Gambit's already said dis, but he's gonna say it again. You ain't to blame fo' dis. You in de Game, but you ain't de Game, comprenez? Dis ain't about you. Jael do what 'e do 'cause 'e ain't got no soul, 'e got nuthin' inside."

"Th-they're all dead!" Kimble bawled as fresh tears poured from his eyes. "Dead!"

"Oui, an' none of your tears and sickin' up is gonna bring dem back, cher. Jael was livin' 'ere long b'fore we even met, you an' me. 'E was already up to tricks den, just as 'e is now. None of dis is about you. Dose folks was just in Jael's way. 'E woulda done it if you was 'ere or not."

Kimble shuddered and half heaved, swallowing it back down before he could spit up all over his friend. "It's so awful!"

"Oui, dat it is. But it ain't yours, cher. Not yours, not Angel's. Let it go, fils."

Kimble pushed against Remy, not able to get close enough. He let himself be petted by those gentle Cajun hands and finally relaxed, sobbing quietly as he let go of his fear with a shudder. The thief holding him calmed as well, relieved that he had gotten Kimble down smoothly. This could have been a lot worse. Of course, it wasn't over yet.

Remy looked up as Henry came in followed by Angel. The big blue doctor leaned his head into the stall. "How is he?"

"Trashed."

"What happened?"

"Too much of de news. It more dan 'e can take. You got any of dem tonics left?"

"Right here. I thought he might need one."

Remy took the small bottle and uncorked it, pouring it down Kimble's throat. "You drink dis up, cher. Dat's better. Oui, paisible. Dere's a good boy."

Kimble swallowed it down, wanting the sweet oblivion that was to come. "Uhnnn...Angel?"

"She right over dere. You t'ink of 'er. Keep 'er in your heart. You gotta keep it together, Kim. Who's gonna look after 'er if you fall apart, eh? What's it gonna take fo' you to stop 'urtin' y'self so bad?"

Kimble sniffed, "Jael to be gone. I- I wants him dead so bad! That's wrong ain't it?" he asked with a pain filled sob. "I hates him! I hates him so bad!"

"Easy, easy, pet. You just firs' in a long line. Why you t'ink Gambit out dere workin' so 'ard, eh? Gambit wants dat too, but it a little more dan 'e can manage just now."

"Let me go. Let me go finds him. I'll kills him m'self! I gots the sword!"

Gambit couldn't help but shudder at the thought. This trembling, sickened Siskan in his arms was capable of so much good - and so much violence. When Kimble had been out in the real world and shattered, he had learned a thing or two about his powers. He had been trained to create a telekinetic sword. As if that hadn't been bad enough, he'd also learned how to Channel plasma through that blade to create a super-weapon, a deadly instrument of destruction. Gambit had watched once as his dear friend used that sword to skewer and then explode one of Sabretooth's goons. It hadn't been pretty and there were times that Remy woke in a deep cold sweat from the nightmares he still had of it. Later, Sabretooth had Remy pinned and Kimble turned that sword on his Master at that time, ending the tumultuous relationship the two of them had shared. When forced to chose, Kimble had picked Gambit and for that the thief would always be grateful. Unfortunately, that event had cost Kimble dearly. He had thought Sabretooth dead at the time and the concept that he had killed his own Master had caused him to shatter from three personalities into four, the last time he had broken. Gambit wasn't about to let Kimble loose only to shatter again from some unforseen happening. This Siskan was much too valuable to his heart.

Remy was quick to reassure. "Dere ain't no need fo' dat. It's all gonna turn out right, you wit de X-men and we always 'ave 'appy endings. Didn't Fallen's legends say so?"

Kimble snickered softly, too sleepy now to argue. "I guess so. She didn't tell no sad stories."

"Well, dere you go," Remy said, his hands still petting even as he felt the pilot go slack against him. Henry's tonics were powerful and Kimble was exhausted. He was no longer crying as he slipped away into a deep sleep.

When he was sure Kimble was down for the count, Remy leaned his head back against the wall and shuddered once, a tear spilling down his cheek. The Kundatesh was a two way sword, the same way he could calm, he was forced to suffer through Kimble's internal agony. Kimble was suffering in ways he didn't fully understand, he always was. It cut right through him, down to his very soul. Mercy, he loved this Siskan so very much.

"You okay?" Henry asked, laying a blue furry hand on Remy's shoulder.

"S-sometimes...Sometime Gambit t'inks mebbe choosin' de Lover was wrong. 'E feels too much," Remy complained, thinking back on the time he had been forced to make a very difficult decision. At one point Kimble had four people inside of him struggling for control. It made him erratic and violent, hard to control. Remy had found the Games Master, a Dognan boy who could repair fractured 'grams. Part of the repair entailed Gambit having to chose which of the four personalities was to remain in charge forever. He chose Kimble, the Lover, for his gentleness and good heart. Unfortunately, the Lover was only a fraction of who this Siskan really was and he had emotional weaknesses because of the choice that had been made. Kimble wasn't whole and continued to suffer for it. This wasn't the first time Remy had questioned that choice.

"And who would you have instead? Lakotashay? She was suicidal," Beast said, his voice showing deep understanding. "You made the right choice."

"Mebbe Zander... 'e was so strong."

"But he felt very little. He would never have been a father to Angel and you know it. C'mon, up you go. Let's get Kimble out of here."

"We can't take 'im back to de Danger Room. Too many folks dere talkin'."

"Security is just as safe. Besides, he'll feel better there. It's small."

Remy nodded, grateful for Beast's understanding. Never had the doctor questioned his wisdom, nor denied him any requests when it came to Seth or Kimble. Henry just accepted that Remy would "know" stuff that others wouldn't. Henry was also quite fond of Kimble, finding his sentient AI endlessly fascinating. They didn't see as much of each other as they used to but the doctor was always there when Kimble broke down like this, always ready to help.

Remy lay Kimble down and let Henry bring him up to his feet. He hopped out of the stall and watched as Henry easily lifted Kimble out and up into his arms. Kimble weighed quite a bit less than he looked, he was only about nighty-eight pounds or so in spite of having the skin of a normal man. Henry was quite large and muscular, he was very strong and Kimble was like a feather in his arms.

"Is daddy okay?" Angel asked. She wasn't really fearful anymore, just concerned. This wasn't the first time she had seen her Siskan go this far down. In her short lifetime, she had seen him crash like this three or four times, typically after Jael had gone and blown up something large. Kimble was slipping a little more each year since the repair, this half year being the worst by far. She never seemed to worry that much, the big people always came and made him better, just like today.

Remy was thankful that she was so strong. He never had to worry about her not being able to handle it. "Oui, petite. 'E jus' real sad 'cause of all the hurtin' dat 'appen today. 'E just gonna sleep now for a bit, den 'e feel better. C'mon, let's go for a walk."

Angel smiled up at him and they followed Henry as he carried Kimble down to Security and the holding cells there. Security was actually a small lock up area where the X-men would bring any troublemakers they happened upon until SHIELD could be called to pick them up. It was also where Kimble was taken when he fell apart. It had happened several times in the eight years that Remy had known Kimble, often enough that there was always one cell set up specifically for him. It was a lock up, but it had a televison screen and a small computer for playing games. Here Kimble could be isolated and yet still entertain himself.

Henry lay Kimble down on the cot there and covered him up with the blanket. Kimble moaned something unintelligible and turned to the wall, curling up tight.

"How about you, chere? You tired?" Remy asked Angel. "Dere's plenty of room on dat cot."

"I had a nap in the big room."

"You want a movie?"

"Okay."

Remy set her up with a DVD, there was a small collection in here. Kimble hadn't been locked up like this in over a year so she hadn't seen any of them in a while. Angel snuggled up against her Siskan and Kimble rolled over, not even awake as he pulled her up close, protectively spooning his much larger body around hers. She smiled and Remy retreated, leaving her to her movie.

He didn't lock the door in case she wanted to come out. The cell had a toilet, but no privacy. She was used to being in there, she was always kept with Kimble when he was locked up and this was old hat for her. In all of Kimble's spells, he was never violent here in the lockup, Remy had no reason to fear for Angel's safety.

"I'm just going to go and send Karen in," Henry said, packing up his stuff. "She's just outside, she'll be here in a moment."

"Merci," Remy replied, his eyes still on the two figures inside the holding cell. He looked up a moment later as the Security door opened and Seth came in, his face tight with worry. Karen was right behind him, as the house shrink it was standard procedure for her to be called when Kimble was in here. With everyone quarantined to the lower level, a call hadn't been required for her to hear something was up.

"What happened?" Seth asked.

"He 'eard us talkin', fils. Just kinda freaked 'im out. 'E'll be okay, go on in if you want."

Seth went past the desk and into the open cell. He spoke softly to Angel and then sat on the floor, his back to the bed and one of her tiny hands in his. He was watching the movie now and soon giggling along with her, happy to be near her.

"What really happened?" Karen asked Remy, knowing the movie was loud enough for Angel not to hear them talking.

"Kim was upchuckin'. You know 'e only does dat when he's fucked up sumptin' awful. He was on de usual trip, t'inkin' dat everyt'ing Jael do is 'is fault. 'E knows dat what happen today is part of de Game so it extra personal dis time. Really, though? I t'ink 'e just scared to deat' Jael gonna come in 'ere an' take us all out. 'E don' feel safe. It's gettin' worse all de time and now dis..."

"In that case, you should leave him down here. If he's isolated from it all, he'll feel better. I know you want him topside living with you, but maybe it's best if he just stays locked up for a while."

Remy's eyes hardened just a little. "Dat sound jus' a little too much like yo' hubby, chere. In all dis time Logan still don' t'ink Kimble is wort' a lick."

"That's not true. If Logan didn't care, he wouldn't keep running the freaks like Grendel off. Don't be fooled, he cares for Kimble just as much as any of the kids. It's just that Kimble is always more stable when he's closed off like this. He can't run off and let somebody smack him around, he can't watch the news. It's just better."

"An' Angel? She won't leave 'im and livin' down 'ere ain't no place for no little girl."

"I don't know. Maybe if we think about it, some kind of compromise can be worked out. As it is, I don't see regular classes being held for the kids here for a few days, most of the teachers are out working at the site. It'll be all right if she stays here a while."

"I'll do whatever it takes to keep 'im happy."

Karen lay an hand on Remy shoulder. "I know you will. You've tried so hard these past years to keep Kimble in one piece. If it wasn't for you, he'd be a gibbering mess by now. It's not easy looking after the mentally wounded, I've told you this before. You've done a remarkable job. You should be proud."

"But?" Remy asked, hearing something in her tone.

"But sometimes you have to admit you've done all you can. Leave him here for a while, let him go," she said, trying to be kind. "Give him space."

"It's de space dat's killin' 'im. I tell you dis, but no one listen. He need a full time Master, not a part timer like me, nor a child like Angel."

"What are you saying?"

"Kimble need a lover. Someone to do more dan I can."

"Kimble's wrecked. The last thing he needs is a love life," Karen said in full disagreement. "He has enough trouble managing his own life."

Remy smiled and didn't reply. So many times he had tried to explain and they just didn't get it. He had learned that a Siskan needs constant use to maintain his self esteem, his sense of worthiness. Kimble was as good as celibate right now and that wasn't healthy. Certainly not for a Siskan as needy as Kimble was. Because of his house arrest, Kimble simply didn't get out. His reputation for being unstable was well known here and he was avoided except for those who might exploit him for their own ends like Grendel had. Remy longed for that to come to an end. He wasn't seeing it happen. How much more was Kimble going to suffer? The repair wasn't guaranteed. How long before Kimble broke again?

(break)

Kimble was dreaming. He was in familiar place, one he had thought lost to him long ago. He was back in the circle of light, in the ring of brightness that was his own personal Black Room. The Black Room was a place designed by Seth while the two of them still lived in Fallen's computer. It was a place of privacy where no one else could go. Kimble had a Black Room, too, deep inside of him. It was here that he had seen ghostly images of his fractured selves.

The Black Room was an endless room filled with an impenetrable darkness except for a bright light shining down from above, leaving a sharp ring of white in the center. If you looked up, you couldn't see the source of that light, only that it never hurt to look up into it. The ring was a circle, but there were four positions there, each space occupied by a fragment of Kimble's poor shattered psyche.

He saw them now, in their chains. Here now was Lakotashay, the Quitter. She was the representation of Kimble's sense of self loathing and bitterness towards a world that simply refused to accept and understand him as he was. The air above her was swirling with dust as though she had moved but had gone still. She had stirred some from Kimble's rough time in the bathroom, but Remy's love had quieted her. For the moment, this most dangerous of Kimble's personalities was asleep, which was a good thing. She was the one who had murdered, she was the reason Kimble was currently under house arrest. Her chief motivations had been suicide, believing themselves not worthy of anyone and therefore, not worthy of life. Many times she had begged the others to kill them, but no one was up for it. She had murdered in an attempt to force the humans around them into doing what the others could not. So far, her calls for a death penalty hadn't had results and it was just as well she was asleep. She was presented as a nude thirteen year old girl, the favorite skin of Kimble's first real Master, Sheyman. She was covered in filth and grime and stunk like the sewer. Her name was the Siskan word for the most foul and evil thing imaginable. She was Dog Shit, she was Vomit, she was Putrescence. She was Untouchable.

Beside her was the Punisher. He was Kimble's strength and power and was presented as a fine Clan warrior, long dangling ponytail and broadsword included. He was also Kimble's wrath. His anger was shown by his having a face that was a shattered mirror. At the moment he was awake and calm, sitting at ease in his chains. He smiled his jagged, shattered smile at Kimble and greeted, "Hey there, Kim. Long time, no see. How's tricks?"

Kimble was in his own corner, the Lover. Unlike the others, he was currently in control of the body and wasn't chained. He was merely in his designated spot. He smiled in spite of the strangeness of this. Oddly, he felt comfortable here as if he had missed it somehow. "Been better, Zandy."

"We done bad things b'fore and now we's doin' them again," came a soft Siskan whisper from the fourth spot on the edge of the circle. It came from tiny Lin, the Confessor. Lin was tiny pilot child wrapped up tight in a blanket so that only his small white face and hands were visible. He was little more than a toddler, about four or so and only spoke his dire warnings in Siskan. His voice was sluggish and sleepy, he wasn't fully aware...but he was stirring. He wasn't dangerous like 'Shay, he wasn't suicidal, but felt they should hide themselves away before they hurt anyone else.

" 'S that true, Kim?" Zander asked, conjuring a cigarette from thin air and lighting it with a pop of plasma from his fingertips.

"Remy don't think so."

"But?"

"Ten thousand dead cuz 'a Jael...cuz 'a us."

"Cuz of the Game, kid. Not us. Yer Cajun pretty boy's right on that score."

Kimble just looked at him square and asked, "Why am I here, Zander?"

"Cuz that last little tidbit ya threw out in the bathroom caught my attention. Not yer pukin', mind ya. That was just plain pitiful. It was thing about usin' the sword again."

"Sword's dangerous. We use it, we break. That's what happened before. Lin came from you usin' it on the Master."

"That ain't 'xactly right. It came from us usin' the phone, but I don' wanna git inta that right now." Long ago, when Kimble was in the possession of that monster Sabretooth, a phone call had caused him the worst beating in his life. It never left Kimble and even after all this time, Kimble wouldn't come close to a phone or anything like it. What Zander didn't want to acknowledge of course was that he had been the one who prompted Kimble to use the phone in the first place. Much later, after Sabretooth had been beaten Kimble within an inch of his life for the use of that phone, Zander had gotten his revenge on Sabretooth and skewered him with the sword, nearly killing him. "What I wanted ta say wuz that I wuz real keen on you usin' the sword to rip ol' Jael a new one, what do ya say?"

Kimble shivered a bit, nervous now. When it came down to it, he wasn't sure he was up to his fine boast. That had been his frustration talking. He hadn't used the sword once since they'd been repaired. For all the attacks on the Mansion, no one had come within sight of his precious Angel. In fact, the only time he usually found out anything had happened at all was well after it was all over. Jael's people pretty much sucked and the X-men were well entrenched here.

"I don' know, Zandy. It's been a real long time fer me."

"Heh! Too long! I wonder if ya even remembers how."

"I do!" Kimble protested, not liking Zander's tone.

"Fine. Show me."

Kimble frowned and raised his hands. He squinted and concentrated, smiling with satisfaction as the air around his hands began to change. The air became hard and crystalline, forming into a long broadsword just like Zander's. He grinned at the Punisher, proud. "Toldja."

"Good, good. Now fire that puppy up."

Kimble did as he was instructed. He charged the blade with plasma and watched in satisfaction as it burst into orange flames.

"Now, kin ya use it if ya hafta?"

"I guess so."

"There ain't no 'guess so's here, boy. Either ya gots the courage or ya don't."

"She's my Angel. I'd do whatever's got to be done fer her."

"Then let's go, Kim."

"Go where?"

"To kick Jael's ass!"

"We don' even know where he's at."

"That's easy enough. Just let one of his stooges pick us up. They'll take us right there. 'Grams don't fight, they ain't got no guts, that's what all the Masters think. Let's give that fucker a little surprise! Let's show him we ain't gonna takes his shit no more!"

"It's too dangerous, Zandy. I cain't leave m' Angel behind."

"We kin looks after her here if we keeps it small," Lin whispered in his tiny Siskan.

"That's chicken shit and you knows it, Kim," Zander complained.

"Maybe so, but I cain't leave her. It's safe here in the holding cells. I kin just stay here awhile. They'll lets me stay as long as I want."

"It's better this way, Zander," Lin said, becoming more awake. "Kim don't need no more fightin'. That's hurtin' and kilding. That's 'gainst the law."

Kimble agreed. "It's probably fer the best, Zander. Fer the now anyways."

Zander snorted in disgust and crushed out his cigarette. "You disappoint me, kid," he said to Kimble. "But ya know what? Whatever. You go on an' keeps hidin'. When it comes to it, I'll be there ta deliver, don't you worry. I'm all done with us bein' some stupid Siskan doormat. I ain't gonna let none of Jael's fuckups touch our Angel, just like I ain't gonna let no one push us around no more. Just you wait and see."

"You ain't takin' me over, Zander. It just ain't gonna happen sos fergit it!" Kimble challenged, instantly furious at the suggestion.

"Oh, don' you worry 'bout that, kid. I don't hafta takes ya over ta git my way."

"What the fuck does that mean!" Kimble snarled, rising defensively.

Zander just grinned his malevolent smile. "Keep up yer shit an' you'll find out soon enough."

"Nnoo!" Kimble screamed in fury and woke abruptly on his cot, drenched in a cold gel sweat.

Remy was at the door in an instant. "You okay, Kim?" It hadn't escaped his notice that Kimble's outburst was one of anger and not fear. "What you dreamin', buddy?"

Kimble sat up and wiped his face. "Nuthin'," he grumbled, still upset at Zander's threat. It was all a stupid dream, that was it. It didn't mean anything. It wasn't real. His other selves weren't real. Not anymore.

Remy came closer and touched him gently, 'reading' him for himself. "You shakin' like a little kid been in de pool too long. Dat ain't nuthin' to me."

Kimble leaned into Remy's hand, enjoying the warmth of it. "I'm okay, really. Just still spooked is all. Where's Angel?"

"She in de little gym just over dere. She like de treadmill."

The Security area was its own self enclosed area. It had four cells and a separate showering area. It also had a small gym so that prisoners could be exercised without being removed from the secure area. It had a couple of treadmills and a weight bench. Angel liked the treadmill because it had a large TV screen that showed landscapes or cartoons if she wished.

Kimble nodded. "Good. 'S tough fer her ta be cooped up in here."

"She like it just fine, pet. She happy anywhere you are."

Kimble looked up at him. "I wants ta stay in here. It's small an' safe. Jus' 'till alla this blows over."

"Dat's a good idea," Remy agreed, happy that Kimble had brought it up. "Nobody gonna care. Gambit will stay 'ere wit you. You jus' missed yo' brother. Set' just went down to de lab wit Henry fo' sumptin'. He be back in a few. You won't be all alone, je promets."

"Thanks."

"You want anyt'ing? Soda, mebbe?"

"Yeah, a Coke would be fine."

"C'est bien. Gambit be right back."

Kimble nodded and watched him go. He wouldn't tell Remy about the dream, he didn't dare. Gambit worried too much about him as it was. He would work it out, he would find a way. There was no way Zander or any of the others were going to be allowed to take over, not like before. He would die first.