The room she's given is very grey, all concrete walls and stainless steel fixtures. But the tub is large, the water runs luxurious hot, and by the time she reaches it again there are multiple bottles of whiskey waiting and ready for her.

She checks her phone every few minutes for the next three hours. Jake never calls. She gives up about then.

.

She's dead asleep sometime much later when it finally does go off. She'd forgotten to turn the sound off, and it just manages to wake her.

She answers just before it would've stopped ringing, feeling impulsive. "Y'know, some people actually like to sleep at night." She slurs at him.

There's a slight pause. "Right. Sorry. I guess this could wait until morning."

She huffs and scoots her way to a sitting position, wincing at the spots around her ribs that are still sore. Reaches for the bottle sitting open next to her bed, swigs it. "To hell with it, I'm up now. S'good to hear yahr voice. Everythin' okay?"

"No." He hesitates again, and huffs a growl. "Look, I'm sorry I didn't call. It's just Sarah told me you guys had a - a conversation just before you left and I was angry."

"When aren't yah here lately?" Jamie answers, flippant. "Well, I s'ppose I got nothin' better to be doin' now, just have at it then, why don't yah?"

"Are...are you drunk?"

"Does...it matter?"

"A little. I thought you were supposed to be working."

"I am. Sorta. I'd also like to get back to sleep at some point, if that's ok with you. Yah got somethin' to say, just say it already, bud."

He sighs. "Look, this whole thing is just getting ridiculous, ok? I can't have you 'n Sarah at eachothers throats everytime I turn my back for five minutes, it's exhausting."

"Hey, you know me better 'n that, I wasn't lookin' to have a scrap, not that time. She came at me first."

"Wait - she did?"

Jamie's brows furrow. "Yeah. Ambushed me just as I was gettin' ready to head out the door. Mean, the way she was talkin', believe me, I was angry for a reason. Hell, since when have yah ever known me to be angry and not have a reason!" (Honestly. She knows herself to be a little prickly at times, but she's not really that bad, is she?)

There's a long pause. "That's..a fair point actually." He seems surprised to have come to the conclusion.

"An' anyway, the conversation did basically end with her threatenin' me, yah know."

"She definitely failed to mention that."

Jamie snorts. "Of course she did. She'd say anythin' to paint me as the villain, she hates my guts! How about yah try comin' to my defense like that for once? I mean, I am your..." She startles herself with the thought and trails off to silence. Mate. She was going to say 'mate'.

"Say it." He snaps. "Just say the word, Jamie."

She clears her throat, uncomfortable now. "...point bein', this one was on the Barbie doll, not me, ok?"

"...she really threatened you?"

"Yes. She kinda, really did." There's a pause. She thinks she hears... "Ah. Jake?" No response. The lines dead. He hung up. "Well...'kay."

...

"How do you feel?"

Jamie's brows furrow. She feels...

"Ms. Logan?"

"I don't know, yet. What is this stuff?"

"You wouldn't understand if I told you. Try to focus."

Jamie closes her eyes, trying to think it through. She feels...

"Previous test subjects have described a sort of clarity." Trixie nudges. "The effect seems to be as much mental as it is physical."

Wildthing stirs awake inside her cage within Jamie's mind. Clarity. Yeah, that's not a bad way to describe it. Her senses were already hightened, and don't seem any further effected, but she feels...she sees... with a calculated thought process, Jamie comes to a conclusion, and lets Wildthing free.

Really, actually free.

Trixie backs away a bit, wary now. "Your eyes.. Ms. Logan? Are you listening at all?"

"Yes. Clear is a good word. I'm not sure how else to..." She trails off. Sentences are proving oddly difficult to formulate. Wildthing serveys the room they're in a bit. There's men observing, but they clearly aren't scientists. All seem to be armed, three with a sword at their hips; she can't tell what the others have. "It ain't the robot I'm fightin' again, is it?"

Trixie blinks, brows furrowed as she tries to figure Jamie out. "Uhm, no, no I had something else in mind, but only if you're up for a challenge. Are you up for it?"

Jamie moves around a bit, rolling her shoulder. "Yeah. Pains gone."

"Was your healing factor affected by the serum, do you think? Sped up further? My goodness, is that quite possible?"

"Maybe. Or maybe I just don't feel it. Can't tell."

"But you wish to proceed with...?"

Wildthing eyes up the armed men, who fidget uncomfortably under her gaze. A smirk tugs at her lips. "Hell yes."

.

They slip into the testing room, sans giant over-powered robot this time.

"There are no rules, save for that if someone ends up in our morgue I will be very upset, and you do not want that. Is that quite clear?" Trixie aims the question at Jamie.

Her opponents bristle a bit at this, clearly uncomfortable, but none protest.

The feral rolls her eyes. "You never let me have any fun."

Trixie hesitates. A look crosses her face, part confusion perhaps, tinged with wariness. "I beg your pardon?"

A chuckle escapes the feral's lips. "Well, don't look so serious, there. You'll get wrinkles."

Trixie scowls. "Was I clear, or not?"

Jamie smirks, smug. "As crystal. Ma'am."

"Good." Trixie fiddles with the jacket of her pants suit, clearly uncomfortable, before beginning a click-clacking trek out of the room. "You may begin, gentlemen."

Without any further warning, the seven men she's up against throw themselves into action. Three pull out pistols and aim with presicion; the one pulls out a set of throwing knives and sends one sailing at her chest; the other two draw their swords and drop into a fighting stance.

Adrenaline floods her veins. Pain usually triggers the rage but she feels no pain, no discomfort. What follows is..something totally different.

Wildthing starts in and just doesn't stop.

She pulls the knife out and sends it sailing back towards it's owner, who is hit hard in the shoulder. The men with guns shoot, she dodges one bullet but the other sails straight through her arm. She barely feels it and just keeps sprinting though; nabs the gun out of the closest goon's hand and aims it at his head a moment just to make him sweat before she just clubs him over the head with it instead. The other guard fires again but he's barely even aiming. It sails through the side of her leg. She's staggerd for half a moment; one of the men with swords comes forward and swipes at her. She hits the ground and rolls out of the way just in time, then pops her claws, sending one set of them to impaling his foot, and then his shoulder, slamming him to the ground. His head hits the concrete beneath them, he groans but moves little. She gets to her feet as the bullet in her leg is spit out of the fast healing wound, and charges at the guard with the gun. He fires off several shots, one of which lodges itself in her collar bone, the other somewhere in her arm. The pain fuels her further. Wildthing roars, a sound far more animal than human. She pounces on the man with the gun; one set of claws sails through his forearm. He drops the gun. Her other set of claws soars up to hover before his neck; she pricks the skin a touch, sending a drip of dark red trailing a path down his neck.

Wildthing tilts her head, staring at it, oh so tempted... Jamie fights for some measure of control, and regains enough to force Wildthing to back down, but only just.

Dropping the gunman, she spins around just as the second swordsman attacks. His sword sails down in multiple movements, quick and precise. It catches her in the leg and belly, the cuts deep enough to be a momentary problem for her under different circumstances. But not this time. Still feeling little pain if any, she drops down in her signature move and kicks out to sweep his legs from under him. He hits the ground hard. Her claws sail through his forearm, and her foot collides brutally with his belly, knocking the wind well out of him and cracking multiple ribs whilst she's at it. He doubles over, coughing and groaning.

Wild Thing surveys the room and sneers; staggers back, glancing down at the wound on her chest, just beginning to stitch itself back together. Calmly reaches up to work the bullet out from where its still lodged in her collar bone, then brings her arm out to suck at the other wound there; a moment passes and she spits the bullet out as that wound also stitches itself up.

The quiet that follows is so total it should be unnerving. As it is, Jamie cracks her neck, looks around.

"Is that all you've got? And here I was hoping for a challenge."

.

She watches as the wounded security men are assessed by a team of medics, indifferent now. She can't tell if the strange serum is still working on her or if she's burned it off. It doesn't seem to be a drug in any sense of the word that she's used to. She doesn't feel wired or fuzzy or any kind of intoxicated – though, Wildthing is in more control than Jamie really is, at least sort of, it's difficult to really tell what's happening inside her own mind.

"So. That was...unexpected." Trixie strolls in to join her.

"Not what you were hopin' for?"

"More than we were hoping for, if I am honest."

"What the hell is the point of all this?" Jamie asks bluntly. She feels no fear, no need to control her tongue.

"You shall find out in time." Trixie replies, succinct.

"Yeah, I'm kinda done playin' games. How about I find out now?" It's not really a suggestion.

"Your job is to simply do as your told. You don't need to know -"

"Doin' what I'm told didn't start out meanin' I had to beat up old friends and get shot up with some kinda mystery berserk juice, and do yah wanna know what? I think it's awful funny that yah just forgot to mention that my brother's been workin' for you guys too."

Trixie grows visibly tense, clearing her throat softly. "I had no idea that Jackson was your brother."

Without warning, Wildthing rounds on the Snake Lady, backing her up slowly. "I can smell it when yah lie."

"Oh come now." Trixie's voice remains even. "Lying to you about something so trivial would accomplish nothing for me." She jumps just a bit as her back hits a wall.

"Can smell it when yah're afraid too. Hearts beatin' awful fast. You got a good poker face but it ain't enough to fool me. " The feral sneers, reaching up to take the taller woman by the shirt collar and pull her down so they are face to face. "I'm thinkin' maybe you tell me what's goin' on here, or I'll start rearrangin' that pretty face."

"If you put a scratch on me they'll send in three of those sentinels. If you do not die, they will throw you in a deep, dark hole until whatevers left of you begs to see the light of day again, at which point they will put you back to work with a shock collar, like a wild animal." Trixie's eyes grow hard with resolve. "Alternatively, you could unhand me this instant, and I will promise that it will be far more worth your while in due time. Am I making myself quite clear?"

Jamie contemplates the other woman for a long moment, mostly just to make her sweat. Then, huffing out a growl, she lets the Snake Lady go, and stalks off out of the room.

.

The senator she's been spying on calls her just as she makes it to her quarters within the Ouroboros facility later that evening.

"You ought to come and spend the night with me. I promise I won't bite!"

"Oh, but I'm busy, sweetie! Not tonight, ok?"

"Well, alright, but I'm taking you to dinner tomorrow..."

She stumbles through the conversation, managing to get him to hang up after not terribly long, and wanders over to draw herself a bath.

Trixie had said the serum may seem to wear off quite quickly, but there was evidence to suggest traces of it would remain in her system for some time, working some sort of long term magic that only a body like hers could withstand. Some of the general effects tended to linger, including a strange, general tendency for the subject to just not quite sound themselves.

Naturally, it is under such uncertain circumstances that Jake decides to call her.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"You alright?"

"I guess so."

Silence for several beats.

He sighs. "You comin' home anytime soon."

Jamie's brows furrow. "Home?"

"Well - I mean the Mansion, I guess."

"You know, when I think about it, I'm pretty sure the only ones who even want me there are Logan and maybe Tash. The rest of you seem pretty luke warm."

"Hey, that's not true. I want you here, I want you with me. Why would you think that?"

Jamie thinks for just half a minute. "I've got a proposition."

"Oh. 'kay. Shoot, I guess."

"I'm gonna kinda be all over the place for a while, starting in maybe a month..."

"Doing what, exactly?" Jake interrupts.

"Uh. Not sure. Probably lots of different things." She brings a hand up to rub at the back of her neck. "They haven't exactly said yet. How much do you really care?"

Silence. It lasts so long she almost worries he's hung up. And then... "I guess you're wondering if I'll keep you company?"

"Yeah. I mean. I told them that...well, that you're my mate. I mean, that we had properly, ah, mated." A blush creeps up to color her cheeks. They'd had some wild nights together so far but marking him would be a different level of intimate; she's just stumbled back upon the one subject she's still embarassed to talk about. "I mean, we haven't, obviously. But they don't know that. They did seem to understand what I meant though, because I was told you could be with me."

"We could." There's discomfort in his voice, too. "I mean, uhm. You know. Mate."

"Haha. Very funny."

"Well... I mean, really though."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, I do, and I say why not?" There's a note of indignation there now. "Are you planning to leave me?"

"You've got other things to worry about, darlin' -"

"No, but this is important. Are you really going to pretend you don't feel the pull too?"

Wildthing howls indignantly in her mental cage, disbelieving. What are you doing? He just asked to be ours, how dare you say no?

But the words won't leave Jamie's lips. There's no way it would work. He'll learn to hate her eventually, she's wholly convinced of it, but there'd be no reversing it. Wildthing would never let him go once truly mated, and Jamie isn't at all ready for that herself. "I'm not sayin' I don't feel it, I do, but c'mon. At not even nineteen? We could be totally wrong about it and we'd never even know it, bud. You can come and do some travelin' with me if yah want, it might be fun. Just don't over complicate it, alright?"

"But it doesn't have to be complicated! Jamie -"

"Look, just spare me all the pansy bullshit, ok? " She barks back as a sudden burst of annoyance overtakes her. "I'm not in the mood. Do you wanna come with me, or not?"

"Pansy...?" He trails off; several moments of awkward silence ensue. And then a sigh. "Alright. Fair enough. I guess. Yeah, of course I'll come with you. I'd follow you anywhere, Jamie Logan."

She lets out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "Good. I'll see you soon. Alright? I promise."

It's only much later, after they've said their goodbyes and she's enjoyed a soak in the tub and is trying to sleep; only in the very earliest hours of the next morning does the thought cross her mind that she may have shut him down too harshly. She knows she's being shelfish about it. Shutting him down on the idea of being properly mated right now is one thing, and in fact she could even, quite easily argue in favor of it being the right thing to do. Hooking him into staying by her side like this anyway is quite another. She should just let him go.

But she's never been that selfless. She's keeping him anyway, and that's the end of it.

~Jake~

Jesus, has she always been so selfish?

The phone call is enough to keep Jake up most of the night. He tosses and turns inside his bed, his mind racing, until finally he gets up and decides to go for a walk. The cool, crisp fall air outside helps; he begins to think it through properly.

Just don't over complicate it, alright?

What's complicated? He doesn't understand. He feels the pull. He knows the connection is already there, and it's not like it's a common thing, not like it's something they'd be likely to feel with anyone else. In fact, what little prior knowledge there was of this sort of thing seemed to suggest that a feral only ever finds one true mate. He does know what he's asking. The only discomfort he felt with speaking of it was directly tied to her clear reservations.

Or maybe he should've seen this coming. He'd seen what kind of lifestyle she was used to, the kind of attention she was most used to getting and giving to people in general and boys in particular. Even before that, his mother had warned him that Jamie may be too much her father's daughter. That she may be incapable of giving him what he wants in the exact way he wants it. Everything about her is wild and gruff and ragged around the edges by nature, it's possible they just won't fit into eachothers world properly and maybe that's the end of it.

When he thinks about it, though. When he really lets himself think about it, in the quiet of the night with no one else around to distract him, to remind him of what his proper place seems it should be. Here, like this, he has to admit it to himself that in fact, he and Jamie are far, far more alike than anyone else knows.

He doesn't want her tamed, he just wants her to be his. And then, God help him, he wants her to help him somehow untame himself, and something about that thought is both terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

Maybe she's right. The thought occurs to him, delectably tempting. Maybe he's over complicating things; maybe, for right now, they shouldn't be mated. Maybe he needs...

Spare me all the pansy bullshit, ok?

Her words continue to echo hollowly in his mind. Pansy...? Maybe he's too soft for her. Maybe... She'd sent him away, up at that facility. He'd wanted to go back in and find his mom but Jamie sent him away. She didn't think he had it him to fight by her side.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a cheap cigar and lighter - the kind of cigar she smokes and the purple lighter she'd bought for herself at some random gas station somewhere just before they'd crossed the border into Canada. They'd ended up stashed inside his bag for some reason or other, she'd forgotten them when she left. He stares down at them as a strange urge overtakes him. The clear, undeniable urge to do something just bad, consequences be damned.

The thick roll of cheap tobacco barely wants to light at all. He sucks on the thing, like he'd seen her do, a little more each time until -

A coughing fit over takes him. Jamie'd be laughing her ass off if she could see him. How exactly did you think that would end up going, bud? You look even more ridiculous with it than you think I do, jus' put it out and we'll pretend this never happened.

"Jake?" The voice that actually reaches his ears is more alarmed than amused, wrought with worry. "Jake, what the hell are you doing?" Sarah's footsteps speed up until she appears before him. He can see the worried scowl contorting her features around her new pink glasses; her words are full of pity. "I know you're worried with your mom being missing but this is not the way to deal with it. Please. I mean since when was this a thing? "

Since never before now and certainly never again. That's what he should say. He should admit defeat, just stamp out the cigar and move on because he's being an idiot, isn't he?

His silence seems to frustrate her. Pity is rapidly replaced with righteous anger. "She isn't good for you, you know? This just proves it."

"What?" He blurts in response, not believing his ears.

"She's a - a bad girl, Jake, a real one, the really bad kind of bad girl. One month alone with her and this is the level you've already sunk to? It can only get worse."

He doesn't put it out. That impulsive streak comes back full force, and he brings it to his lips again, taking a much more conservative hit of the thing this time. Through sheer for of spiteful will, he manages to exhale normally instead of coughing, though his voice sounds a little creaky when he answers. "Go fuck yourself, Princess."

"I beg your pardon?" She chokes out the words, clearly incredulous.

He seems of a sudden to somehow be willfully channeling Jamie. "You heard me. Buzz off."

"Jake, please, I just -"

"Yeah, I know. You just want me to do this, and then Mom and Dad would just want me to do that, and then you want to go off making threats to Jamie, the one person who isn't trying to straight up just boss me around all the time. You know what I want? I want you to just back off." His head feels kinda funny. His heart beats hard and fast in his chest and his hands shake just lightly. He brings the cigar to his lips again.

"I'm sorry." Sarah stutters. "I'm just worried about you."

"Well quit it. I don't need a babysitter, ok? I mean, what are you even doing out here, anyway?"

"I..I heard you. On the phone earlier. You sounded upset, I just thought..."

"You thought wrong." He snaps back, quick but not harsh. "Go to bed and mind your own damn business, Sarah Jean."

A tear slips out from beneath her glasses and trails a fast path down her cheek. "Alright." She says, voice quiet but steady. "Fine. You just do what you want." She spins on her heal, heading back towards the Mansion.

Oh. That's not her 'I need attention' face, and her voice, it's too quiet. He'd made her actually cry. He hadn't meant to make her cry. "Sarah..."

"No, you know what, Jacob Charles," she turns halfway, but won't look at him now, "I'm not doing this. I don't even recognize you anymore. You and her are clearly made for eachother now." She stomps off, huffy. "Enjoy your damned, glorified cancer stick. I hope the Cavewoman is worth it."

He recklessly manages two more hits of the thing before he begins to almost feel ill; he stamps it out careful like he'd seen Jamie do and tucks it away for later. He won't want the rest. He tells himself it's ok, he's gonna end up just tossing the thing but it's not true. It feels good to be bad, even in petty ways. The rush it gives him is so intoxicating. He can't resist anymore. He feels a little like Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde.

He hadn't meant to make Sarah cry. But he'll be damned if a part of him hadn't just thoroughly enjoyed sticking it to her all the same.

...

Days turn into weeks, and Jamie's promise to come see him starts to seem as though it was an empty one. She does call frequently but something about her begins to seem increasingly..off. She starts to sound on edge, tense, not at all herself. He tries to get her to explain, but she says she can't and grows quiet and withdrawn when he presses too hard, so he stops pressing at all.

Weeks turn into a month.

.

He tries to keep appearances some; goes about helping the teachers and his father with various tasks, doing so with a smile even. Most are too wrapped up in their own business to notice anything off about him – his father would be the first to notice, under normal circumstances, but the good doctor can hardly even be persuaded to eat some days with Ororo still missing. Jake suddenly finds himself in the strange position of having to look after his parent like a, well, parent.

He doesn't think to try as hard around Rogue.

She asks him to help her out in the art room, scrubbing at some of the corners that don't often get cleaned out as well. He is quiet as they go about the task, and doesn't suppose that he's really giving off any indication he's upset.

"Penny." Rogue tosses the word out after an hour or so, just casually, though they hadn't been conversing.

His brows furrow; he realizes he'd been scrubbing at the same spot on one of the tables for quite a bit longer than was needed. "Oh. Uh. I'm ok!" He blurts on impulse, and then realizes what she'd said. "I mean – what?"

Rogue has arms crossed and a strange look on her face. "Penny, Sugah. For yah thoughts."

"Oh. Right." He tries to wave her off, chuckling a bit. "It's nothing."

"Bullshit."

His eyes widen a bit. He splutters. "I beg your..."

She's outright scowling now. He braces himself, and in she starts. "Now, for heaven's sake, yah're all over this dusty ole pile o' bricks we call home doin' whatever odd job anybody'll give yah like yah got nothin' better to do, an' Ah don't know, maybe yah don't. But yah hardly say a word while yah're at it and then yah go off on walks at ungodly ours of the night and yah not tryin' all that hard to hide the smell of cheap tobacco, Ah'm ashamed of the rest of the actual adults here 'cause clearly not a one of them has asked yah how yah're doin', an' Ah won't keep quiet m'self a minute more 'cause Ah can't, it just ain't in mah nature. So. Jake McCoy." She reaches into a drawer of her desk and produces a bottle of whiskey and two coffee mugs. She pours out a generous helping of the amber liquid into each. "Spare me the bullshit. Come and talk to meh."

He clears his throat. Brings one large blue paw up to rub at the back of his neck as he deliberates. "You – uh – I mean." He stutters, awkward, trying to stall. "I'm pretty sure teachers aren't supposed to – er, much less offer it to -"

"Yah not a student." Her voice is a little gentler now. "Yah Mom's missin', yah Dad can barely remember his own name without 'er around, and yah girlfriend is MIA to top it off. Yah gonna try and tell me a drink don't sound damn good right about now?"

He makes a slow, tentative trek across the room. She snatches up her mug and takes a sip of her drink and plops herself down in the chair behind her desk and just waits, patient.

"Jamie's not really..." He huffs a soft growl. "I mean, she calls me."

Rogue snorts. "What, once a week?"

"No."

She raises her eybrows.

"Twice."

Rogue slides the other mug closer to him. "She calls twice a week and what? Throws out a couple o' empty promises and but never once tells yah where she is or what she's doin'? And that's bad enough without thinkin' about just how long it's been since she's bothered to throw out that 'L' word yah wanna hear so bad."

Jake takes in a breath and then lets it out very slow. And then he reaches out to snatch up the coffee mug and down half it's too-ample contents in one go. He winces as it burns it's way down, but the feel of it is a little too welcoming.

Rogue settles back more comfortably in her chair with a look on her face that borders on 'smug'. "That's what I thought. An' don't go tryin' to play high and mighty with me, mistah. Yah downed that like a pro."

He pulls up a chair and sits, snatching up the bottle on her desk to inspect it. "I've had worse, actually." He says flatly, setting it back down.

"Oh, spendin' a month with Jamie and no one else around to tell her when to slow it down, Ah don't doubt it."

"How'd you know?"

"Know what, now?"

He rolls his eyes. "How'd you know about her, us. The phone calls."

The southerner is silent for a moment; takes a sip of her whiskey and sighs. "Some folks are born with the same strange sorta MO just hardwired in. This one seems to be very much a 'Logan' thing. Sorry to say Ah don't got much help for yah, honestly, other than a bit of commiseration. Least yours isn't holed up with someone else and a whole ass feral litter on the way."

His eyebrows raise. "Oh. Yeah. Yah got me beat there. Least, I think you do. We did just establish that I don't really know what Jamie's been up to...just that she won't tell me what it is, so it's gotta be something shady." He snatches up the mug set before him again. "I think I should be more worried about that part than I am, too, but I'm just..not." He sips his whiskey. "Mostly I'm just pissed she's stayed away so long."

Rogue studies him hard; a moment passes, and she reaches for the bottle, pouring him a little more. "What happened when yah two ran off?"

He's pauses a moment, unsure how to answer. The question seems framed a little strange. "Well – I mean, she took me up to where she used to live. It was a beautiful drive. She's probably the only person I could enjoy being alone with for that long. And when we got there she..."

"She showed you Wild Thing." Rogue says, knowing.

"Yeah." He meets her eyes briefly. "Yeah, she showed me Wild Thing. She thought I'd be afraid, I guess."

"You weren't? Not even a little?"

He shakes his head slow. Takes another swig of his whiskey. "Not even a look, I'm not an idiot, I know there should've been some fear or something there, but that's just not what I... I mean, I'd never seen a place like this one she took me too, and they knew her there, she walked in like she half owned the place, cocky. She commanded that room, I'd never seen her like that before. And then she gets up in this – this cage cobbled together out of goddamn chicken wire and they find a guy dumb enough to get in with her and it wasn't even like she had to try. She danced with him. She played with her food, and she had this spark in her eye."

Rogue clears her throat softly. "I should point out, sweet pea – most people. Folks who ain't you an' me. They know enough to be very, very afraid of that 'spark'."

Jake shakes his head. His hands are trembling some. They're coming dangerous close to him admitting some things out loud; things he hasn't said aloud even to Jamie yet. He swigs his whiskey again. "But I'm not afraid, I'm...what the hell's wrong with me anyway? Dad always told me, warned me. We have to keep it in check. Contain it. Why can't I just do that? He always made it look so easy."

Rogue scowls. "He learned to be afraid of what he is. Not for no reason, but your father's demons are his own. If his way isn't working for you, it doesn't mean there's something wrong. Some of us were born with Tobasco in our veins instead o' blood and that's alright. It ain't about cagin' it. Cagin' a beast just makes it angry. It's about learnin' how meet it in the middle. And that starts with admittin' to what you don't want to admit to right now. Ah'm gonna ask it one more time. Ah'm one of the last people that's gonna judge yah. What happened to you when yah ran away with Jamie?"

His heart is beating hard and fast in his chest. He's growing shaky; saying it out loud seems dangerous somehow, like it will make it too much a tangible thing. He feels like he shouldn't, but in a split second, decides he will anyway. "She showed me Wild Thing and she seemed so at home that way, letting the animal out to play like that. She showed me what it looks like when you give in and I gave in with her. And I liked it." There it is. He said it. Holy shit, he actually said it. "I liked it. It was fun, it felt good."

Rogue cocks her head, curious now. "Did you fight? Like she was?"

"No. Not in the cages, I kinda wanted to try but she wouldn't let me, said there was a different kind of danger there. But we found trouble, at one point. Just before leaving. And we'd been drinkin' and spending nights at the bar and I watched her go at it in that cage so many times. There were these guys, they had guns, and they got Jamie. And I knew she'd be ok 'cause she's always ok, but in the moment all I could think was... I beat one to a pulp." Jake reaches for the mug again and throws back what's left in it. "I rearranged some guys face and I don't feel bad I did it. I felt -"

"Alive." Rogue says, with a little too much understanding behind her eyes. "Yah let yahr beast out for the first real time and it made yah feel alive." A pause. She studies him a moment. "That's a helluva crossroads to come to, when yah realize what yahr capable of. Have yah thought that maybe yahr Dad might be able to help? If yahr just plain honest with 'im?"

Jake shakes his head. "No. No, Dad wouldn't... I shouldn't've told you. I'm sorry." He gets to his feet. "I need... to go for a walk."

"Sugah, just wait a minute," Rogue gets to her feet and chases him across the room, "yah got nothin' to be sorry for but listen, bottlin' this up ain't -" She gives up abruptly, cursing, when he just shakes his head and continues down the hallway.