(Two)

"Where's Julie One Hand!"

Henry looked up from his patient and turned to look behind him. A group made up of some of the young refugees they had rescued from Twilight had come over to where he was working and they looked far from friendly. He gave them the only answer he had, "I have no idea who you are talking about."

For a mission that had required the Gold Team, this day had been pretty boring for Dr. Henry McCoy. The big blue doctor had flown in Fallen's impressive ship to Dockside with as much medical equipment as he could assemble on such short notice. He had set up his ad hoc medical station just outside of the Lucky Dragon and had waited, feeling all but useless as Fury and the Gold Team disappeared through Simone's magic door. They had been gone for an hour or so and it wasn't until their return that Henry's real work began, or at least, what little there had been.

The first to come through that doorway was Gus and Henry's day had gotten a whole lot livelier. The man had no more than stepped through the door before he had begin to melt away into a puddle of slime. Henry could safely say that was a sight he never wished to see or hear again. It had been horrific. It had happened way too fast for him to have helped the poor man, much to his regret. The man had died in less than a minute. At least he was the only one who suffered from that complication after passing through the door.

The Gold Team had fared much better on their return. They had been experienced enough to have gone through the day's work without so much as a scratch. Fury's men - the ones that had walked back on their own - had been only minimally injured and declined Henry's offer of assistance. Fury had only lost two of his men, all the major losses had all been on Frost's end.

So it was the rescued children who ultimately ended up being Henry's patients. They had walked through that door, ragged and thin, their poor faces so weary it nearly broke Henry's heart to see it. He greeted them with food and blankets, doing his very best to make them feel welcome. Maylee and Fallen were by his side, making their own efforts to help him.

Henry could not help but smile as he watched Maylee work alongside him with efficient ease. She was Fallen's foster daughter and hadn't been with them long, but she was his finest student. She was making him proud now, organizing everyone and getting the line of kids moving. She was engaged to Max, the winged young man that was helping out with Logan so much these days. Henry was quite sure they would marry soon - Maylee had come to him just a few days ago asking for a pregnancy test. It had come back positive and they were both ecstatic.

As the rescued kids were herded their way Maylee was sorting them out by their injuries and sending the worst cases to him. Some of the kids needed a stitch or two and he was happy to oblige. He knew this was just the beginning of their care, they would also need counseling to help them recover from what they had been forced to endure in the camp at Twilight. He was appalled at the condition of the kids – most of them were starved at the very least, beaten and sexually abused at the worst. Though happy to have been freed, many were not moving too quickly. They were fast about one thing – they couldn't get Frost's silver crossed smocks off fast enough. There was a growing pile of them in one of Henry's nearby trash cans.

Most of the young ones had come to Henry easily enough for his offerings of nourishment and warmth, even though they were clearly intimidated by his size and his face. The X-men were not unknown to most of the world but Henry's face was not one of those that made the TV too often. He had learned to use a calm voice and unthreatening gestures when he spoke to new people. It helped to make them see he wasn't a threat of any kind and it did the same for him now. The kids quickly realized he was their friend and there to help and he was soon looking them over and getting them situated. After they had been treated, the ones that wanted to go to Arizona were brought aboard the Lucky Dragon, Fallen's much larger ship, for transport.

There was a fair number of kids, about thirty or so. Most were simple betas – cosmetic mutations mostly. They had colored skin or fur or scales, a couple had a tail or an extra limb. One or two had the blinking restraining collars around their necks, hinting at a bit more power. Henry was waiting to remove the collars – one, he wasn't sure if they might be booby trapped and two, he wanted to fully understand why Frost wanted them restrained before setting them free.

Some of the older kidnap victims were in fact recruits that Fury had sent out to be captured as spies for SHIELD. Most of them were pissed - they had understood that they might be mistreated, but hadn't appreciated getting chemically sterilized in the process. Not all of them had survived it. None of Fury's survivors wanted to go back to him for obvious reasons and Henry was more than happy to receive them and give them a new home.

Many of the survivors were scared and hungry, but there were some, like this group that had approached Henry now, that were more than ready for a little payback. "Where is Julie One Hand!" they demanded again.

"I don't know who you mean," Henry repeated though that wasn't entirely accurate. He had been briefed on the boy and seen the vague composite sketch, but no one had come up to him saying, 'Here he is.'

"We saw Frost was captured," one of the kids explained. "So he must have been, too."

Henry nodded, knowing about Frost already. "All I can tell you is he is not here, or hasn't been identified to me anyhow."

"Well, if he shows up, we have first dibs on him, understand?"

Henry blinked at him, standing up a bit straighter in his concern. He hadn't liked the boy's tone. "First dibs for what?"

"For his execution, man!" one of the larger boys shouted. "He stood by and did nothing while our girls got raped! He stood by and did nothing while Frost killed us one by one! He is just as much to blame for what happened to us!"

Asher came up behind them, his hooves loud on the pavement. Asher had flown in with Remy but he had planned on going back with the kids. He was here to offer them comfort and perhaps even a little guidance. He spoke gently now, "Vengeance is the Lord's work, kitten. It ain't up to us."

The boy turned, his face twisted in anger. He at first took in Asher's kindly face and exotic skin with wonder, but when his eyes settled on the large silver cross around the centaur's neck, the rage returned in force. "Who the fuck are you?"

Asher remained calm in the face of the insult. He held out his hand and greeted, "M' name's Asher. I comes along ta helps ya settle in. What's yer name, kitten?"

"Don't call me 'kitten'," the boy sneered, his anger growing by the minute. He refused Asher's hand with a look of distaste. This boy was no longer a child, he was fully grown and huge. He must not have been under Frost's care long, he was still well muscled and not so frail as the others who had been rescued. He was a beta, green skinned and not from envy. He had tall pointed ears and a long furry tail that lashed behind him with agitation. He was looking at Asher with real disdain. "Who calls anyone 'kitten'? What are you? Some kind of faggot?"

Asher blinked at him in surprise, he hadn't expected the anger or the verbal attack. "I didn't mean no offense..."

"Yeah, well, my name is Malcolm, not kitten. You can take your cross and go, freak. We've had enough of your precious 'Lord' to make us puke!"

"There are many who would use the Lord's name to do evil," Asher explained in his usual even tones. He was still trying to be reasonable. "It don't make the Lord evil himself."

"There is no God!" Malcolm howled at him, spitting in his rage. "My sister is dead. You know why? Because she wouldn't submit to the cleansing ritual of being raped by Frost's men all day! Where was your God for her?"

Asher bowed his head, feeling this boy's sorrow. "I'm sorry fer yer loss, but we cain't all know God's plan fer us."

"Oh? Are you saying there was a plan in all this?" the boy questioned, getting even more angry. He was right in Asher's face as he snarled, "Fuck you! There was no plan! There was only Frost and his little bitch taking what they wanted! They didn't care about us!"

Asher took a step back and tried another tack. He countered with, "I hears Julie One Hand is a kid just like yous. How are ya so shure he ain't no victim himself?"

"Is this some kind of joke?" one of the other kids exclaimed, adding to the tension. "That kid is a bloodsucking freak! The biggest kiss ass I ever seen. All he cared about was himself!"

"There ain't no need to be throwin' stones here. People do things fer different reasons," Asher continued to persuade. "I'm shure many of yous did things in yer life you wasn't proud of. Is there anaone here who ain't never done nuthin' wrong?"

There was some silence in the group but Asher could see he wasn't exactly winning them over. Still he kept trying, "Until you speaks to the kid and knows fer shure why he done what he done, it would be best fer yous to just fergives him. The sooner you kin release yer hate, the easier it'll be fer yous to moves on."

"Move on?" Malcolm howled once more. "I won't forgive! I won't forget! And I won't move on until Julie One Hand is dead!"

"You don't means that. Yer just angry — " Asher tried but he was cut off.

"You – you men of God are all a bunch of stupid pansy ass faggoty liars! Frost was a Bible thumping freak like you! You're so full of shit you can't even smell your own stink!"

"Hey, now! That's enough of that!" Henry interjected, commanding everyone's attention. He had tried to be patient, but this was escalating. "I have something important to say and I hope you all will listen very carefully to me."

The crowd quieted and the doctor continued, "I want it to be known right now that we, the X-men, are offering you all a home and that it is unconditional. If you know who we are than you know what we stand for. Our only goal is peaceful relations between humans and mutants. That is all. While we do have some clergy to assist us in this endeavor, we are not a religious organization of any particular affiliation. We have something for everyone, including a rabbi and an Imam as well. You will not be made to attend any religious services of any sort if that is your wish. The only thing we do ask of you is to have patience and tolerance towards one another and to those who live with us that have some kind of faith. Asher here means you no harm, he only wishes to help you."

"What will you do about Frost!" someone else wanted to know.

Henry relaxed, being on more familiar ground here. "That will be up to SHIELD and the courts but you can be sure that we will be keeping an eye on the situation. We will keep those of you who come with us updated as much as possible. You are all encouraged to give statements if SHIELD asks for them and we will assist you in that in any way we can."

Malcolm wasn't quite mollified by Henry's blanket statement. He jerked a thumb at Asher. "This guy says we shouldn't want our payback. You say we'll get it. Which will it be?"

Asher bowed his head in frustration. "Frost will git what he deserves in court. God will sees to him in His way by way of them judges. It's best not to be takin' that blood yerself, lest you stain yer souls with it."

"Is this guy serious?" Malcolm argued, more than happy to bring this back around to Asher. It was clear that all he really wanted was someone to take his frustrations out on and the Siskan was as good a one as any. "We'll go with you all right. Not like we have anywhere else to go to now. But only as long as that one -" he pointed at Asher, " – stays away from us. Permanently!"

Henry sighed and looked at Asher. "I'm sorry, my well intentioned friend. But perhaps it would be best if you gave these kids some distance."

Asher nodded, but it was hard to hide the crestfallen look on his face. It was happening to him again, that others outright mocked and hated him for his faith. Asher wasn't pushy or preachy about his beliefs, he never forced his views on anyone, but it was clear that he remained somewhat naive, he just didn't understand when others didn't feel the same as he did. It made him feel like a failure and it was clear in his eyes that now threatened tears.

Henry knew it wasn't true, no matter what the self doubting Siskan might think. Asher's days were full and the vast majority of it was spent on charity or social work. He spent time with the orphans, he taught Bible studies, he helped out with any wounded or sick people in the infirmary. He ran errands for anyone who asked. Anything Henry needed, Asher was right there to help out. Asher was no bigot, he was a non-denominational worker and assisted anyone without question regardless of their faith or race or mutation.

It was no great secret that Asher greatly desired some kind of ordination but one thing held him back – it was this, the endless bickering over which faith was the most right. It made him sad that in the religious section of the Complex there was more than one Christian church, and that while there was relative peace, they did not agree. He couldn't find any one among them that fit his exact way of thinking and as time passed, it seemed that was less and less likely to ever happen. Not that he would be out of a job if that ordination never happened, the Complex needed helpful people and he was always there for them.

It was this passion for peace that made Asher place his desire to be a good example above all else. He obeyed Henry's request with no fuss and turned away, his eyes so sad and his shoulders slumped some in defeat. "I'll flies back with Remy then. I didn't ever means to upset no one."

"Please don't go," came a voice, soft yet firm. "You can fly with me."

Asher looked up, his eyes meeting those of a young girl no more than fourteen. She was battered and thin, but there was some strength yet in her. She was a beta, no blinking collar for her. Her skin was a dark purple and welted, raised designs swirled over her arms and face and Asher just knew they had been there from birth. A pair of gossamer fairy wings hung behind her, a bit torn here and there but still proud. God had marked her as special and not just in the goodness of her heart.

"Izzie, don't be stupid," Malcolm challenged. "Look at his cross. He's a Jesus freak like Frost."

"Not every Christian believes as Frost did," she tossed back. She looked at Asher. "My momma didn't and neither do you. Isn't that right?"

"That's right," Asher answered, drawing some strength from her show of faith. Her shine was so bright and beautiful, so unafraid of him. He ignored Malcolm and spoke directly to her, "Jesus wouldn't never want anaones to hurts you like Frost done. Not in His name. Never in His name. Many folks misuse the Lord for their own purposes. Truth is, if they really had the love of the Lord in their hearts, they wouldn't never have tooks ya and hurtcha like they done."

Asher gently palmed her cheek with his hand and continued, "Look atcha. So vera pretty and fine. God made yous guys just as ya are. How kin ya be damned fer bein' born different? It ain't like you had no say in the matter. God has a plan fer alla yous and he gave ya'll gifts to help ya accomplish it. We used our gifts ta helps you, maybe you kin use yer gifts ta helps the next guy in a fix."

"If you say so, freak," Malcolm sneered, not believing, but finding it hard to argue with the Siskan when he was being so complimentary. "Just keep away from me!"

"Come with me," Izzie said, hooking her arm in Asher's before he could turn away again. She headed them towards the Lucky Dragon but she stopped when a voice even smaller than hers caught her attention.

"Homey homes we goes! Bout righty time it 'tis!"

"Who was that?"Izzie asked in surprise, looking about. There was no one else there.

Asher just smiled and reached into the leather bag that hung at his side. With great care he extracted from it the strangest creature she had ever seen. It looked like a ferret, but it was tinted the oddest purple as though it had been dyed. Asher stroked the creature with real love, holding it out for her to see. "That'd be m' Smee."

Izzie reached out and tentatively patted Smee's head, hoping that if Asher was holding him out so invitingly that it meant he would not bite. "Well, hello there."

Smee grinned in his ferrety way, sniffing at her. "Purpley purple. Bestest of the colors it 'tis!" he squeaked, pointing out what they had in common.

She laughed at him, "So it is. So it is. Time to go home."

(break)

Logan looked out the open hatch of the Dragon 2 with concern, it was getting a little rowdy outside and Remy hadn't come back from Twilight yet. He could hear the kids out there clamoring for Julien's blood. Although he could sympathize, he wasn't about to allow it. Remy would be here soon, but what he wanted most of all was to make sure that no one else spoiled his little surprise. He snapped his fingers at Aiden and said, "Grace can finish up with Kiden. I want you outside makin' sure no one comes up that ramp that doesn't belong here, understand?"

Aiden blinked at him, squinted. It was a familiar response - Logan knew Aiden was reading his shine, looking for clues, for things Logan wasn't saying. Logan was not Aiden's boss and there was some question as to whether or not he would obey. Apparently Aiden found his shine agreeable enough to comply. He rose and made for the door.

Wolverine stopped him just briefly, taking his elbow. He nodded at Julien. "No word of this to yer boss. You get me?"

"You wish to keep your leetle secret, neh?" Aiden replied with just the slightest hint of disdain. He did not approve.

"Yeah. I do. I got my reasons."

Aiden squinted again, his eyes searching. "You t'ink zat Remy lie to you."

"I wanna know. I have a right to know."

Aiden sighed softly, relaxing just a little. He knew Remy better than anyone besides Kimble, or at least he thought he did. He didn't think he had anything to worry about and so nodded his consent. "Aiden will do asz you szay."

"Right. Bottom of the ramp."

"Ze ramp, aye," Aiden confirmed and left, going down the short ramp and back outside. Honestly, it was a relief to leave the ship even briefly, Logan and Max's obvious distrust of Julien was scraping his empathic mind a bit raw. Yes, Aiden was biased in favor of the boy for obvious reasons, Aiden would always take Remy's side first on any issue. He just wished Logan wasn't so quick to judge the lad when so little about him was known.

Aiden settled in his spot and took advantage of opportunity to grab a smoke. He smoked quite heavily by human standards, but he found that it soothed his jangled nerves. He knew of better methods of stress relief of course, but Kimble was absent at the moment. For all the people milling about outside, Aiden hadn't seen his lover or Remy anywhere.

Aiden watched as Henry and Asher managed the rowdier kids and got them to settle down. Aiden couldn't help but wonder what Julien had done that was so terrible. Some of those kids wanted blood. He watched as some of the children who were now freed slunk off into the morning light, but the majority followed Asher and Izzie inside the Lucky Dragon. There would be many new faces at the Complex back home.

Moments later, Aiden saw Remy and Kimble finally cross through Simone's magic door and was forced to swallow down his relief. Aiden didn't like to show his emotions publically, he took it as a sign of weakness. What did concern him, though, was that although it had been Kimble's body that had come through that door, the shine was all Zander's. It had been Zander's shine Aiden had seen when they had all met up at the flower field, and here was Zander's shine still. Remy had not gotten the Punisher to stand down.

Not yet anyhow.

Aiden watched with some curiosity as Remy and Zander had their little debate right out of the gate and couldn't help but smile at the kiss that concluded it. Aiden saw Zander's shine change to Kimble's and understood that his heartmate had been returned. He knew Kimble would be embarrassed over that kiss, Zander was a cheeky bastard, but he also knew that the pilot loved Remy enough to at least enjoy it a little. Aiden was not about to begrudge Kimble that simple pleasure.

Aiden wasn't even jealous over the public display of affection, something Kimble had denied him many times over. Zander had done this, not Kimble, and it wasn't done to hurt Aiden, it had been directed at Remy and was, as far as Aiden was concerned, a harmless prank. Why should he care? No matter how many kisses the pair might sneak here or there, it would be to his bed Kimble would be returning to, not Remy's. As before, Aiden knew Remy well - the solemn vow the thief had taken in regards to his Mistress would hold.

Aiden flicked away his spent cigarette into a nearby puddle, done with it. He watched as Kimble broke away from Remy, all scandalized from the kiss. Kimble rushed towards the Dragon 2 and Aiden was ready to receive him. His perceptive mind missed little, categorizing what he was going to have to deal with when they got home. Kimble being uninjured was a plus – but the pilot's uniform jacket was gone. Someone else might not have found that significant, but Aiden did. While Aiden better appreciated the view of Kimble's perfect body without it, he knew that jacket had meant so much to Kimble, it had been a symbol of his acceptance into the official clan. What did it mean now that it was gone?

Aiden expected Kimble to come to him but Kimble hurried past him, his eyes turned away in guilt and shame. Kimble could read the shines as well as Aiden, he had to know that Aiden was not the least bit angry or jealous over the kiss. Still, Kimble couldn't get into the ship fast enough and out of sight.

Aiden let him go, swallowing pain as Kimble's agitated empathic waves settled over him when the pilot rushed by. Just as he figured, it was more than the kiss. Zander had been unleashed, Zander had done or said something bad while he was out and Kimble felt guilty over it. Kimble considered that the ultimate failure. He had not kept his promise to do his best. This day was getting better and better, Aiden thought sarcastically to himself, squinting as he felt the beginnings of a headache form right over his eyes.

Aiden knew that Remy doubted his ability to keep Kimble under control, but he was far more organized than Remy gave him credit for. Aiden had planned ahead for possible disaster and had a small supply of fudge waiting at home. He had bought it as a surprise for Kimble in a congratulatory way for getting his jacket, but now it seemed it would serve a more medicinal purpose. Like most Siskans, Kimble responded well to chocolate. It was a mild mood elevator and a calming agent, something his overly emotional lover needed right now.

Aiden considered having another cigarette but paused to watch as Remy argued with Cyclops. What was this? Aiden began to smile as he saw Remy's own shine begin to change. Whatever Zander had done, it was having a positive effect. Look at all that green. How delightful. Remy was going to need it, Aiden thought to himself, once he saw what Logan had in store for him.

Aiden was obedient and gave away no secrets as Remy came towards him. Someone had given Remy Kimble's jacket and Aiden took it from him happily. He would need it for later, for when he would have to deal with the meltdown of Kimble's that was surely coming. Remy told him to go back inside and he did, eager to return to Kimble.

When Aiden arrived back inside the ship, Kimble had stepped away from the hatchway door. That brief look of Zander's that had gone Remy's way was now gone, replaced by stunned wonder as the pilot gaped openly at Julien where he sat. "Who..? Is that...?" Kimble stumbled over his own tongue, trying to make the question work. He hadn't known much about Julie One Hand, but there was no mistaking the resemblance between this boy and his former Master.

Aiden pulled Kimble back out of the way as Wolverine passed them by and down the ramp. "We muszt be sztrong," Aiden advised in a whisper, making Kimble look at him. "When Remy comesz, zere will be pain. 'E will need usz."

"I ain't goin' nowheres," Kimble promised, almost happy for the distraction. He had shifted gears from his own pain to the concerns of his former Master and for the moment Aiden welcomed it. The last thing he needed was to have to fix Kimble and Remy both. He had no idea how Remy was going to take the sight of Julien but they were about to find out. Remy had just come up the ramp.

(break)

Moments earlier, Julien sat in his seat, listening to the kids outside shouting for his blood and shuddered. His fear was understandable, but really, it wasn't the first time anyone had wanted him dead. The noise gradually quieted, but his fear still remained. This was far from over.

Julien had been thirteen years old on the day his life changed forever.

It had been dark and gloomy out, the skies threatening rain. All the household was sick with some kind of head cold, everyone was stuffy and coughing. It was the Flush looming large over them, their doom already sealed, although none of them knew that, not just yet. The little girls were feverish and so Julien lay with them in their parents' bed, watching TV and taking care of them.

Julien was also sick, but nowhere near as bad as his sisters, something surprising since they were generally better fed and healthier than he was. His being a mutant was sparing him but no one realized it. Since he felt better than his sisters, he was happier to do what he could for them, bringing them drinks and tissues and pillows.

Jerry was in the livingroom watching the better television and fighting his own cold and fever. It had made him even more grumpy and irritable than ususal so Julien and the girls were doing their best to stay out of his way.

Kathy had no choice but to go out and try and find work. They needed to eat. The girls needed medicine, so out she went into the cold and rain, looking for desperate men to please. It was getting late and Julien was drowsy and warm with the bodies of his sisters lying next to him when he heard his mother come in. He startled even more awake when he heard the first shouting begin.

"What do you mean that's all the money you earned today?" his father was howling at his mother.

Julien liked the days when Jerry had found work, it meant he wasn't around. Jerry liked to drink and fight, always finding things to pick on Kathy for. She was worn out now, and looking much older than she was these days. She had a bit of a belly now from three kids and lacking good medical coverage, had lost some of her teeth. It was harder and harder for her to get work. Having a touch of the flu hadn't helped much either.

"It was rainin' most of the day," Kathy tried to offer as an excuse, her voice stuffy and raw from being sick. She was a horrible liar and she knew it, though she tried anyway. "Nobody wanted a date."

Jerry grabbed her arm and yanked, bringing her up close. "The rain never stopped you before, honey. I seem to recall it was raining the day we met."

Kathy trembled in fear. She was still only about half of Jerry's size. In spite of the ambiguity of the conversation, Julien knew what this was about. It was no secret that his mom didn't have a regular job, not like most of the other kids who lived in this run down trailer park. His mother was a prostitute, something that had never bothered Jerry one bit. Not if it put food on the table and kept his heroin supply coming steadily enough. Unhappy now, Jerry gave her a nice big backhand across the face.

"Leave my Momma alone!" Julien hissed, daring once more to come in between them.

Jerry reacted swiftly, swinging one burly fist in his direction.

Julien was a quick boy. He had grown some since their last fight and not just in size. Not only was there a field of grass behind the trailer, there were also some tall trees just lovely for climbing. Some rocks alongside had made for a makeshift obstacle course. With nothing to do all day but run around, Julien had discovered some things about his body. His agility was quite good and he was very flexible, he could hustle up and down those trees with ease. He could bend and flex, squirreling up into places that would challenge most other youths his age.

The only thing that held him back was his malnourished body. He had no endurance. But that was the last thing on his mind at the moment. Right now he was ducking Jerry's fist easily, twisting to the side with a flexibility even most kids would envy. He had inherited more than Remy's red on black eyes.

"Julien!" his mother cried out in warning. Her voice was not kind, she had long accepted her fate and wasn't happy with the disruption to the usual fighting. There was no point in it, really. Jerry wouldn't be stopped and Julien could ill afford to be hurt. It just wasn't worth it to resist.

Julien ignored her warning, having hardly heard it. Kathy was a series of contradictions to him – she could love him so tenderly, wash away his dirt and toss aspirin down his throat when he was sick. Then she could yell and scream at him with such hate. And then, she could ignore him like he didn't even exist. Right now, all he was interested in was getting Jerry away from her.

Jerry growled in anger and snatched at Julien. He was more than happy to vent his rage on the boy, he despised the little rat. Julien wasn't even human, one look at his eyes made that plain. Why Kathy even kept the brat around was a mystery to him.

Luck was briefly on Julien's side. He was especially nimble and quick this day, thanks to an adrenaline rush, and he twisted and eluded the big man, enough to give Jerry a nice good punch in the face. It sent a thrill of exhilaration right through him. This was more like it!

Sadly, any triumph Julien might have felt at his accomplishment was short lived. In his rage, Jerry only barely felt Julien's blow. He grabbed at the boy with brutal speed, snatching one of his tiny white hands, screaming, "You think you're so good, boy? Let's see you try hitting me when I'm done with you!" He then began to haul the kid towards the front door.

Now trapped, Julien screamed in terror, hoping his mother would help him as she had the last time. He had no desire to see where Jerry was taking him. Kathy sadly, was too far gone in her despair and hopelessness to help him, she lay limply on the floor, crying.

Julien resisted Jerry as best he could, planting his feet and forcing the big man to drag him away. Jerry, done with this, brought him up close, giving him a vicious backhand across the face just as he had his mother.

Julien didn't feel the blow so much as it was that he fell into the deepest, darkest black. He only realized he had been struck when he woke moments later only to discover he had been dragged outside.

Jerry had hauled him out of the trailer by his hair and was taking him out to the stump where he had been repairing a window. Jerry reached for his mallet and Julien screamed again, having an idea what might be coming next. He was still dazed from the backhand slap, but squirmed and fought as best he could. Unfortunately, it wasn't going to be enough. In his frail, underfed condition, he was easily manhandled and placed in the position Jerry wanted to do his cruel deed. Before anything could possibly stop it, Jerry came down with the mallet on Julien's left hand, shattering the tiny fragile bones.

Julien had experienced pain, sure he had. But never like this. He was instantly blinded by his own tears, shaking from head to toe as shock spread through him like a fever. He heard a scream from somewhere far away, numb as there was a separation in his mind. Something had snapped inside and he was someone else, someone new. Red, there was red everywhere, in his eyes and in his mind, in his skin, and coming from his own body.

Jerry, oblivious to the change in his stepson, was laughing now, happy with what he had done. He was tired from his exertion and the mallet was heavy in his hand. He left it as it was, there against what was left of Julien's left hand, pausing for just a moment before he made his next move. He had every intention of smashing the boy's other hand as well, it was there in his eyes.

He would never get the chance.

Julien had one thought of his stepfather – I wish you were dead – and the whole scene changed. There was a strange sllssss sound in Julien's ears like something sizzling and then there was a massive red, blurred explosion. The mallet that was still against Julien's hand had spontaneously combusted, seemingly of its own accord, shattering into bits in a cloud of heat and flame.

The two combatants recoiled in shock and surprise. The explosion that had shattered the weapon sent shards of wood and metal at Julien, cutting his face, but the effect was much, much worse for Jerry. Jerry's howls of pain now matched that of the tiny boy, only Jerry's held the high pitch wail of the mortally wounded. Somehow the hand that had held the hammer had spontaneously exploded and was left in ruins. What he didn't know, of course, was that like Julien's father, the boy's kinetic release couldn't actually ignite a person's flesh. The energy his body had unleashed had found that hammer and Jerry's weapon of choice had exploded just as easily as the rope around Gus' wrist.

What was different was the level of Julien's anger and terror. The energy release had been stronger than Remy's more controlled burst, strong enough to detonate the mallet like a grenade. The hand that held it was now gone. The mallet itself had blown apart with enough force that some of the shards had imbedded themselves into the now melted vinyl of the trailer, leaving a scorch mark like the work of some mad artist. Julien had done this, he had done this with his hate and his anger. He had come full circle round, his mutation fully blooming with a bang. Powerful, deadly kinetic energy had come from his fear, from his pain, and targeted the source of all that anguish and woe.

Jerry's right hand and most of his wrist no longer existed. There had been heat, but no cauterization, blood was flowing from the jagged stump of his arm in a gush of arterial spray. Jerry's face was becoming white with far more than just shock. He fell backwards like a dumb animal, landing on his ass, and continued to scream.

Julien didn't take the time to reason out what had just happened, this impossible thing. He acted on pure instinct, finding his feet and scrambling away just as the front door to the trailer slammed open. His mother was shouting, but Julien didn't hear any of it. He just ran away as fast as he could, holding his tiny battered hand close to his chest.

Julien had fled, seeking safety. He had nowhere to go but knew he had to flee, that he could no longer stay here. He didn't fully acknowledge the fact that he had just murdered a man, he thrust it away from his mind, compartmentalizing it. It was a trick he had learned early living in an abusive household, and it had served him well.

He would need that ability again, he could see now as he sat in his seat on the Dragon 2. Life had been tricky and quite unfair to him over the years. It was always throwing things at him, never allowing him to be settled. Take this moment now - here a white winged person, looking more like an animal than a man, had come into the ship and was staring at him like he was a freak. They were all doing this, these people, looking at him like there was something special about him. Did they see it? Did they see that he had killed? That he was a murderer?

The answer to that question came soon enough and it wasn't what he had expected at all. Minutes later, the world once more had its untrustworthy way with him as fantasy and reality merged as one and here he was, the man from his mother's photograph looking down at him with a shock as real and profound as his own. It was him, the one his mother had once loved, the one who had betrayed him most of all. The one who had never come to save him.