Michelangelo, Raphael, and I fall into coughing fits as Apocalypse crashes through what feels like miles of concrete.

He finally tosses us down, and we land hard on the floor, sore and confused. "Okay," I cough, "the first things we're working on in this new partnership are your landings." I hardly have the time to dust myself off before Raphael's on his feet, making for Apocalypse again. "Raph, no!"

It isn't until he feels Apocalypse's flexible arm coil around him and lift him off his feet that he actually stops. "Extremely powerful and mindless of his own well-being," Apocalypse muses. "A worthy Death if ever I saw one."

Apocalypse turns, and I realize that we're in some kind of subterranean laboratory. You know, with all of these underground hideouts the bad guys have, you'd assume the turtles would've stumbled upon them themselves.

"Whoa, hold on there, Apocalypse," I tell him, scrambling to my feet and sprinting in front of him. Apocalypse has shrunk himself down to his normal height, which is only a mere eight feet tall or so. Still, he's pretty intimidating, and it's taking a lot for me to act like he's not. "We made a deal, remember? No one gets turned into Horsemen until I get a cure for the blood poisoning."

"Blood poisoning?" Michelangelo asks. "Is that what that big word meant? Oh jeez… Leo…."

"If I remember correctly," Apocalypse tells me sternly, "our bargain stipulated only that you not endure the transformation until the medicine has been procured. You said nothing of your terrapin friends."

Rats. Loopholes. And I really had hoped that I phrased everything so that he couldn't catch me in any loopholes. "My 'compliance,' as you called it," I reply, "depends on me seeing all of my friends to safety. That includes them. Remember, you can brainwash all of us as much as you'd like, but good help really is hard to find these days."

It aggravates me that he only continues to look down at me, amused. Raphael's still squirming in his grip, muttering obscenities as he tries to get free. "Drop him, Apocalypse," I tell him coldly. "I mean it. I wouldn't want to have to use any of the fancy equipment in this lab to vaporize you in under .6 seconds."

He gives me an odd look. I just threw that number out there randomly, but his reaction makes me wonder if I didn't make a lucky guess. "And how would you know how to operate such equipment?" Apocalypse asks, as though in challenge.

I scan the room, really looking at it for the first time. "There," I say, pointing to something in the corner. "That's an energy particle destabilizer, a product of Shi'ar technology. Similar to the machinery used by the Kree, though more advanced. I don't suppose searching it will find me an 'on' switch, would it?"

I jump when his other arm snakes out and coils around Mikey in much the same way he's got Raphael. "Interesting," he remarks as Mikey squeals. "A human mind that can grasp the concept of my superior technology. You must travel well, Spider-Man."

"You'll be doin' some travelin' yourself," Raphael growls, "if ya don't stop talkin' to that traitor and put me down so we can fight this out! Rather risk gettin' crushed under ya than bein' forced to listen to this scientific lecture. I wanna hear that, I can just talk to-"

"Raph, shut it," I tell him quickly. "Adults are talking, so why don't you just do what you do best and zone out for a bit?" Raphael looks ready to rip me to pieces, and I don't blame him. Still, I can't risk him bringing Donnie or Leatherhead's name into the conversation. I'm not bringing anymore people into this.

As Raphael curses loudly and Michelangelo looks almost as though he's actually on the verge of baffled tears, Apocalypse lets out a laugh at my reaction. "A fiery temper, almost matching Death. Yes, you will make a fine, fine servant."

"I will," I affirm. "But I kinda like my soul, so selling it isn't going to be easy. You put them down and whip up some antibiotics, and you've got yourself a new lapdog. Otherwise, no deal." Yeah, it's stupid. Don't think I don't know that. But I'm doing it for two reasons.

Reason number one, Apocalypse has been known to grant pseudo-favors to those who would serve him. Usually, these gifts end up being curses, since they tend to backfire catastrophically. Still, he'll at least partially give someone what he wants. Heck, the reason Angel became Archangel/Death in the first place was because he lost his wings in battle and Apocalypse gave him new metal ones in exchange for his servitude. More bad came out of that than good, but Angel did get his wings. If I can get him to mix me up a fast-acting cure for Leo, then I can get Beast and Leatherhead to examine it and refine any impurities before administering it.

Reason number two… I'm waiting for the cavalry. Mikey's tracer. I can still see it on the knot of his bandanna, just where I left it. With any luck, the others will remember about it and be able to use my equipment to find us and pull us out of this. That is, so long as my tracking equipment isn't actually busted, like I had thought. That would be bad. Very, very bad.

I start when Apocalypse lashes out with both Raph and Mike, forcing me to dive backwards. I land in a crouch on the concrete wall and flinch when I see the turtles pushed so deeply against the wall that I'm almost worried their shells are going to crack. I feel like vomiting when I see the tears finally fall from Mikey's eyes, streaming down his dust-covered face.

"You are a fool to attempt to manipulate Apocalypse," the megalomaniac metamorph proclaims. He's calling me a fool; he's the one talking in the third-person. "The only terms that stand are my own, and I believe I have humored you long enough."

Mikey groans as Apocalypse peels him off the wall, dangling him in front of him in much the same way he had done when I was on my web. "This whimpering mess shall have to serve as Famine. It is only fitting, given his apparent frailty."

"Get your stinkin' tentacles offa my brother!" I look back to see Raphael hacking at Apocalypse's cable around his waist with his sai, trying to get him to let go. Yeah, not working. "Like I told that blonde bimbo, I'm the only one who can mess with 'im, so you'd better get ready for a world 'a hurt!"

Apocalypse lets out one of those haughty laughs that supervillains are known for as he brings Raphael a little closer. I hope that he's stupid enough to try and bring Raph close to his face, but Apocalypse is known for being one of the brighter bulbs in the box. "And how would you imagine causing such destruction without some form of enhancement to your abilities? An enhancement that only I can give. Come, even the petty spider knows the inevitability of my victory."

Okay, that's it. There's only so much of this pretending-to-be-bad crap that I can take. "Hey, I'm guessing you're not about to put them down, huh?" I clench my fist when I see that Apocalypse doesn't even look at me. "Fine then. Deal's off. And so's your head, turkey."

I jump off the wall, launching myself towards him. He seems to have anticipated that move and releases a laser beam from his chest. He doesn't realize that I'm going just off-center. I land on the "tentacle" that's encircled around Raph, and I yank one of the sai out of his hand. "Hey!" Raphael calls as I jump away again. "Who's side are ya on anyway, Web-head?"

"I'm insulted that you even need to ask, Raph," I tell him, letting out a web and swinging myself around to Apocalypse's back. He tries to turn around and intercept me, but I manage to dig the sai into the back of his neck. He cries out, but I'm the one who ends up getting hurt. His cables start flailing wildly, and I end up getting whacked by Michelangelo crashing against me.

Apocalypse releases his hold on Mike so he can get the sai out, meaning that I'm now pinned to the floor with a giant turtle on top of me. Heh, Apocalypse has already figured out that turning his back on Raph for even a minute is a bad idea. Hopefully, he's learned the same thing about me. "Whoa…" Mikey murmurs groggily. "Some superhero I turn out to be."

"You did good, Mikey," I tell him, gently pushing him off of me. "You didn't lose faith. And you're here. Trust me, just by being here, you're helping me out." He looks confused, but takes my words as a compliment.

"Infidels!" I flinch when I hear Apocalypse cry out. I look up just in time to see him hurl Raphael towards the energy particle destabilizer, and I can't help wondering if I'm about to watch him turn to dust before my eyes. Luckily, he simply crashes against it and falls on his face. Unluckily, this seems to put him down for the count. Apocalypse looks at me and Mikey still on the floor, but a vaguely familiar voice suddenly comes in from up above.

"'scuse me, but did somebody say infidels? I do believe dat be me middle name."

Apocalypse looks up just in time to see the X-Man known as Gambit come crashing down at him, striking him in the face with his telescopic bo staff. Apocalypse reels back, obviously not expecting the unforeseen company. And come to think of it, I hadn't expected it either.

Gambit looks down at me and Mikey. He reduces the size of his bo and sticks it in the pocket of his brown trench coat, offering us each a hand. "Long time no see, mon ami," he tells me in his suave Cajun dialect. "It be lookin' like you got yourself some new friends."

"And you've walked away from some old ones, last I've heard," I reply as Mikey and I accept his hand and allow him to pull us up. "Not that I'm complaining, since you didn't cut it too close with the whole rescue bit."

"I ain't de rescue," he replies, looking back at Apocalypse. "I just in de right place in de wrong time. Gambit been gone from de mansion for a while, but den I heard ma petite was in a bit of trouble, an' it jus' so happen I see an old friend flyin' through de sky while I was on my way back. Thought I'd drop in an' say hello. Hello."

His hand had been reaching into his pocket, and he takes out a deck of playing cards. Knowing what was going to happen next, I take the opportunity to check on Raphael as Gambit gives Apocalypse a taste of his kinetically-charged weapons of choice. "Mikey, stay close! We don't want to-… Mikey?"

As I get to Raph, I turn around to see that Mikey's taken his nunchucks out and is standing besides Gambit, prepping to attack. "Mike, get back here! You're in no condition to-"

"You fought this your way, Spidey," he tells me without looking at me. "I'm gonna fight it my way now. Especially since there ain't a chance of curing Leo after your new buddy turned on us." The words hurt, but I don't think they were meant to.

No time to whine over hurt feelings. As Michelangelo and Gambit take on Apocalypse, I crouch besides Raphael. He's bleeding. A lot. Not only are his bandages all sullied, but there's a fresh wound on the back of his head. I wonder for a moment if he's cracked his skull, but it doesn't look like he lets people worry over him too long.

"Where'd 'e go?" Raphael murmurs, hardly able to even open his mouth. I try to keep him down, but he's attempting to force himself onto his hands and knees. "Where'd 'a bastid go? I'm gonna… I'm gonna…."

I grab his arms just as his slumps against me. "The only thing you're gonna do is get yourself some more of Hank's meds." I try to pick him up, but he seems unwilling to cooperate. He instead pulls away from me and tries to stand on his own, balancing against the detabilizer. "Raph, no! Don't lean on that!"

…hey, there really was an "on" switch.

I hear an ominous-sounding hum come from the machine, and just manage to grab Raphael and swing us out of there on a web before it goes off. It lets out a burst of a white ray, hitting the arm that Apocalypse was currently using as a shield. Crouching on the ceiling besides the large hole that served as the entrance, I look down to see Apocalypse cry out, his arm returning to its normal shape.

I suddenly have a plan. Not much I could do about it if I've got to turtle-sit Raph, though. Really wishing I had as many arms as my animalistic counterparts, I awkwardly begin to web the semi-conscious turtle to the ceiling. "Huh? Wha-?" Raph murmurs. "What's… whaddaya doin'?"

"Call it a safety precaution," I tell him, knowing full well that as soon as he gets his wits together, he's going to try to slash his way out of there. "I've got some backs to look after and a machine to recalibrate. You just enjoy the show."

He calls for me to come back as I jump to the ground, but I don't pay him any mind. Gambit's just been hit by an energy blast, and I need to dodge his body as it soars past me. He crashes against the wall, but gets to his feet easily enough and extends his bo. "Dat wasn't very nice. Gambit best teach you some manners, oui?"

Hearing Michelangelo cry out, I've got a sudden urge to join the Department of Etiquette myself. Whirling around, I see that Mikey's managed to wrap one of his nunchucks around Apocalypse's throat and is currently hanging off his back. Apocalypse had apparently backed into the wall, literally forcing Michelangelo between a rock and a hard place.

Gambit and I run for him, and I spy Raphael's discarded sai on the ground. I use my webbing to grab it and send it flying straight for Apocalypse. He bats it away easily enough, but this gives Gambit enough time to slide towards him and smash his bo against Apocalypse's shin. Despite the baddie's armor, I can bet that Gambit charged up his bo with a good store of kinetic energy, which is what made Apocalypse fall to one knee, releasing Mike.

Despite the beating he took, Mike seems okay after a shake of the head. I try webbing Apocalypse down to immobilize him, and Mikey's using some nunchuck action across his head. "Keep him busy!" I yell at the two of them after I've covered Apocalypse in a whole lot of webs. "I've got a plan."

I hardly get to turn my back before Apocalypse breaks free, his huge arms knocking both Mike and Gambit aside. "What plan can you formulate," he booms as he begins growing again, "that can possibly defeat the eternal Apocalypse? Many have tried and none have succeeded."

"Kinda like, 'many will enter, few will win,' huh?" Mike asks, lunging for Apocalypse again. I don't know what makes these turtles so hardy, but we humans could definitely use some of that ourselves.

I head back towards the energy particle destabilizer. If I can just figure out how to set it at its highest frequency, I might just be able to cause something of an atomic displacement in Apocalypse's body. I don't think it'll destroy him, but it'll definitely slow him down enough to allow for us to get out of here in case the X-Men don't-

Huh, why do they always get here after you finally think up a plan B?

Raphael cries out as the large jet known as the Blackbird enters through the crater just a few feet away from him. As it lands, Michelangelo looks up from his fight with Apocalypse. "Woo-hoo! I was wondering when they'd show up!" He lets out another yell as he's forced into a dive to prevent himself from being squashed by Apocalypse's giant foot.

"And so," Apocalypse says, "the X-Men have finally arrived en masse to their final resting place."

"Da only one who be doin' the restin' gonna be you, Apocalypse!" Gambit calls up to him. "And Gambit do hope it ain't in peace!" He dodges another energy blast from the monolithic mutant just as Cyclops, Emma, Wolverine, Shadowcat, Colossus, Donatello, and Splinter disembark from the Blackbird.

"Donnie!" I profess. "Just the mutant I wanted to see!" Seeming to think about it for a moment, Donatello puts away his staff and heads towards the destabilizer.

"No sense two of us walking around with a bo," Don murmurs, glancing at Gambit. "Just a little bit of overkill. What's up?" I explain quickly what the device is and what I think it's capable of doing with the proper adjustments. Finding the control panel, I rip off the covering and look at the complex muddle of Shi'ar technology within. Don whistles lowly. "So, uh… I'm guessing you know how to play with this kind of toy?"

"Now's not the time to play modest, Donatello," I tell him. "I can use these kinds of machines and figure out their effects, but I'm not a tinkerer. That's strictly your department. And considering that you're an amazing product of alien technology anyway, this should be a cinch for you."

"Okay, okay," he remarks, looking down at the control panel. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that the demons are gone, or maybe Splinter's buried select memories with more hypnosis. Whatever the case, Don doesn't look like a quivering mess of nerves anymore. "But I'm only doing this because you're stroking my ego. Oh, and because it might just save the world."

"You're a prince, Donnie," I say sarcastically.

I look up at the warzone that's taking place in the lab. Shadowcat looks like she's phasing through any energy blasts that come her way as she fiddles with something in the corner. Gambit, Wolverine, Colossus, Mike, and Splinter are doing all they can to provide a frontal attack. Cyclops is staying besides Emma, using his optic blasts to apparently keep her safe. Emma looks like she's concentrating… very, very, very hard. "Cyc," I ask, "what's the plan?"

Cyclops spares me a glance, either annoyed because of the distraction or because he's simply Cyclops. "Emma managed to get a psychic link with Professor Xavier in Genosha. He's currently working with Magneto to increase his electromagnetic brainwaves and synch them up with Emma's. Once we can get Apocalypse's mind out of the way, we can work on destroying his body and trapping him on the Astral Plane."

"You leave the body bit to us," I tell him, putting a hand on Donatello's shoulder. "I think we've found a way so that none of it can survive and regenerate." He nods and turns back to the battle at hand. Looking back at Don, I ask, "So… this will make sure that he can't regenerate, right?"

"If we manage to destabilize every particle of his body and thus trigger something akin to a small-scale atom bomb," Don tells me, still tinkering, "then I'd like to see him try and regenerate." He pauses for a moment before amending that with, "Actually, no, I wouldn't."

I look up just in time to see Raphael drop to the floor. He still looks woozy, but he's not about to sit out a fight because of a silly little concussion. Thankfully, Splinter spots him and heads towards him. I can't hear what they're saying, but Sensei's apparently doing a good job at keeping his confrontational pupil out of trouble.

"There!" Donatello suddenly cries out. "I think that should do it." At the same time, Apocalypse lets out a loud, angry yell. Don and I both look up to see him on his knees, his hands over his ears. It looks like Emma, the Professor, and Magneto managed to come through at just the right time. And to think, two of those three were bad guys not too long ago.

"Now's the time, Donnie," I tell him, backing away from the machine. "You think you can impress me?"

"It's not you I want to impress," Donatello says, stepping behind the controls. "It's everyone else in the room." Cupping a hand over his mouth, he calls out, "Everybody near Apocalypse, move back! I'm firing this thing in ten seconds."

"We don't… have ten seconds!" Emma screeches.

"Okay then," Don replies. "Five. Four, three,-"

"Now!" Emma screams.

Unnerved by the pitch in her voice, Donatello presses the button that Raphael had accidentally knocked against earlier. He and I both cry out and duck on the floor as an intense beam shoots out from it. Sure hope three-and-a-half seconds was enough for the others to clear out, I think.

"Goggles," I hear Donatello suddenly say. "Goggles would've come in handy right about now. That's another thing to add to my never-leave-home-without-it list." I agree, shielding my eyes as I attempt to look up.

It looks like a direct hit, and it doesn't seem like anyone's the victim of friendly fire, thankfully. Apocalypse is covered in the shimmering white light, and he's shrinking down to normal size. I wince when I see little white bursts along his body, signifying that his molecules are definitely on the verge of going kablooie. Yeah, you gotta love my scientific lingo.

"Shadowcat," Cyclops calls. "Have you finished setting up the explosives?" Explosives, did he say? You mean, more things that are going to blow up? I do believe someone mentioned something about overkill.

"Got 'em, chief," I hear Kitty say. "Everyone, listen up! Grab the wounded and pile into the Blackbird. If you can't make it up by yourself and no one's around to help, you'd better call out and say something fast!"

Crawling around the back of the destabilizer so I don't end up getting hit, I grab Donatello and pull him to his feet, telling him to hurry. "Are my brothers okay?" Don asks, searching around. "I saw Raph, but… Mikey?"

"I got 'im, kid," Wolverine says behind us. He's dragging along a rather beaten Michelangelo, but it doesn't look like it's anything worse than exhaustion taking its toll on his resilience. "Keep moving. Go!"

Without another word, we jump into the Blackbird. I scan the jet. Six X-Men, three ninja turtles, one rat, and a spider. We all made it. At the controls, Cyclops quickly gets ready for takeoff. "Hang on," he tells us as the plane lifts off.

I look out a window. "All that equipment," I breathe, watching the lab fade away. "All of that technology." I ball my hand into a fist. I failed him. I failed Leonardo. Wow, now I really know where this whole clan honor thing comes in.

As soon as we're above ground, the explosives go off. It was either another instance of perfect timing, or someone had a detonator. Either way, Apocalypse's body and his secret lab were destroyed. "It's over," Emma finally sighs. "Apocalypse is trapped within the Astral Plane, and his body is gone. He shall hopefully never return again."

"Yeah," Wolverine mutters, "we've heard that song before."

I'm still gazing out the window, staring at the smoldering fires and black smoke snaking out into the morning sky. I feel a hand on my shoulder and turn around to see Colossus looking down at me. "Why are you disappointed, comrade? Did we not achieve our goal?"

"Partially, Colossus," I tell him, leaning against the wall and crossing my arms over my chest. "I just… I had really hoped that there was something to be gained from that laboratory that could help Leonardo."

"Is that why you allowed yourself to be captured?" Splinter asks. Donatello is crouched besides Raphael and Michelangelo, who are laid out on the ground, battle-weary. "Dr. McCoy has said that the disease is indeed treatable by modern science. Positive results may not be a guarantee, but…." He looks down, as though trying to compose himself. "But there was no reason for you to put yourself at such a risk. I understand that Raphael had been abducted and Michelangelo went with you of his own free will, but if saving Leonardo was your main focus, then I must tell you that such a sacrifice was not necessary."

"I know," I told him. "But I also did it to save Raph. I couldn't let him become an authentic Horseman. Besides… without Leonardo…. The turtles have already had enough bad things happen to them in the past thirty-six hours. Losing their brother and leader would just be… devastating."

"Yeah, it would be," Donatello confirms. "But losing a friend on top of that would have been even more so." He gives me a weak smile before adding, "Besides, Leo will be all right. He's in Leatherhead and Dr. McCoy's hands now. I've never seen a pair of brains with so much knowledge of biology. If anyone can get him out of it, they can." It sounds suspiciously as though he's trying to convince himself rather than me.

There's a moment of silence before Gambit asks, "Gambit don't mean to pry, but what happened to dis Leonardo? He sick or somethin'?" I reply that it's septicemia. When he gives me an uncertain glance, I explain that that's the fancy word for blood poisoning.

"Blood poisonin'," Gambit remarks with something of a shudder. "Gambit had dat one time. Thought I was a goner. Dis was back in de swamp, an' dere was an old gypsy woman who done took good care of me an' made me better. If Hank's medicine doesn't work, Gambit can take one of da X-Men's planes to de swamp. I still remember where de hut was."

"Gypsy woman?" Don asks skeptically. "Thanks, uh… Gambit. But… I kinda prefer relying on things that have a basis in scientific fact rather than on voodoo dolls and other things of that nature."

"No voodoo dolls," Gambit explains. "Just some good old-fashioned gumbo dat she make special. Gambit not one for science, so I can't tell you how it works, but believe me, it work good an' fine."

Donatello still looks skeptical, but Splinter puts a hand on his shoulder. "At a time such as this, my son," he tells him, "it would be wise to keep an open mind. We have seen many cases in which science has failed, and less conventional methods have proven to be the victor." Turning his eyes to Gambit, Splinter graciously says, "If you would not mind, Mr. Gambit, I would be most honored to meet this gypsy woman and see if she can provide us with a suitable medication."

"We're five minutes away from the Institute," Shadowcat informs us. "You can grab one of our spare jets and make it there and back in a few hours."

"Since when do we trust Gambit to fly a plane?" Cyclops asks testily.

"Since when do we trust the White Queen and Magneto to help save the day?" Wolverine counters.

"Touché," Emma mutters bitterly.

"It settled den," Gambit declares. "I go to drop in on ma petite right quick, jus' so I can see if dere's nothin' I can do for her. Den I turn our friend into a swamp rat and we visit de ol' gypsy." He looks at Don, adding, "Maybe you should come too, mon ami. See if your science hold up to de swamp life."

Though Donatello still looks wary, he agrees.