Okay, here it is! The long awaited second-to-last chapter in the saga of Nikki's life as a runaway. First, I must apologize to everyone for the looong time you all had to wait for it. But I hope it was worth the wait. A couple quick notes to everyone: First, please leave a signed review so I can reply to it! I feel bad about not being able to reply to a kind, thought-out review! Second, you might want to glance at the end of chapter 1, chapter 10, and the beginning of 11, because some pretty important references back to those are made. The end of chapter 12 is also mentioned.

That should be everything. Once again, thanks to everyone for their fabulous reviews and to those who reminded me to finish this up!

Enjoy!

Regroup, Recover…Return?

The noise and sounds of whizzing bullets turned everything into bedlam. People were everywhere, shooting, screaming, and fighting.

Taking her cue from Mimic, Fantasma jerked her arm free of the stunned guard and sank her knuckles into his forehead. He flew backward into an oncoming soldier.

It took a moment to register that her powers had returned. She made full use of them, spinning about, kicking, punching with all her might, and ghosting whenever she needed to. Every so often, she had to hit the deck as a shining metallic cord sailed over her head flinging a terrified soldier into the wall.

Crystal shards gleamed in the oily light as they spun viciously through the air, embedding themselves in walls and bodies. Fantasma very nearly took one to the side. Spider-Girl was webbing up villains left and right.

Very gradually, Fantasma began to notice that there were more guards than before. Reinforcements were coming. She doubted that they could fight off all of Groak's army, even as mutants.

Just as she drew back her arm for a punch, the soldier before her gasped and crumpled over dead. Fantasma froze, her arm still cocked. "Huh…?"

As he fell to the ground, another guard behind him was revealed, holding a smoking gun. They stared at each other. Then the guard turned away and ran back into the fray.

Fantasma dropped her arm. Stepping back, her gaze swept around the room taking it all in. The soldiers were fighting among themselves. She wasn't sure who had started it, but because they couldn't tell who was fighting the mutants and who was mutinying, it had become every man for himself.

Mimic's voice spoke beside her. He wasn't there; he was using his powers. "Nikki, get over here!"

She turned and saw him standing with the rest of their group in the entrance to the hallway. They waved. "Come on!" Mimic's voice said again.

Fantasma started to sprint towards them when she realized something: Spider-Girl was not there. She slowed to a halt, her eyes searching the room.

She finally saw Spider-Girl standing in the midst of a cluster of soldiers, all of them trying unsuccessfully to take her down. Spider-Girl was fighting admirably, but the strenuous demands of this continuous battle were wearing her out. She had also suffered a few fairly serious injuries from the fall into the courtyard.

She was slowing; Fantasma could see that she was favoring her left leg. Sooner or later, some stray bullet would be too fast for her.

Fantasma stood uncertainly, torn between the desire to get out of there and the unwillingness to leave her sister for dead. The two fought inside her head.

She's my sister.

She doesn't matter anymore.

She's family!

That group standing in the hallway is your family now.

I can't just leave her. She'll die.

If you go back for her, you'll probably die too.

But she's my sister!

She's part of your old life now.

I'm not leaving her!

Fantasma ran forward, ignoring Mimic's loud protests ringing in her ears. "What are you doing? You're gonna get killed!"

She plunged headlong into the crowd, ghosting through any obstacle. She didn't take the time to fight. Reaching Spider-Girl, she grabbed her startled sister's arm and hauled her back through the bewildered guards. Spider-Girl allowed her to lead; she seemed just as astounded as the soldiers around them.

Unfortunately, by making a nice straight path in and out, and taking their quarry with her, Fantasma was leading a whole troop of soldiers back towards her friends. Krystelle looked horrified.

"You are an idiot, Fantasma!" she shouted.

Fantasma pushed past her roughly. "Run!"

Thorn and Krystelle didn't need to be told twice. They bolted after her. Spider-Girl twitched her arm out of Fantasma's fist and started web-swinging ahead of them all.

It took Fantasma a few seconds to realize that Mimic had not followed them.

She screeched to a halt. "Mimic?"

He stood a few feet back from the chamber entrance, unmoving. His back was to her.

"Mimic?" she asked again. She glanced nervously in the direction of her fleeing companions.

Krystelle's white-blonde braid bounced and swayed behind her, shimmering like a brilliant dagger in the dim lighting. But Thorn's ebony costume blended into the dark like camouflage in the woods. If they lost each other, it would be nigh impossible to find everyone again.

Fantasma looked at the guards who were still rushing out of the throne room toward Mimic.

A thunder of footsteps pounded up behind her. She half turned, expecting to see Thorn and her sister rushing up to fight.

It wasn't them.

A herd of at least twenty soldiers were flying straight at her. "Mimic!" she shrieked. Then, throwing caution to the wind, "Jake, get over here now!"

He finally turned around and began walking calmly toward her. He was smiling.

She was not.

"What are you so happy about?" she snapped – or at least she started to. She was only about halfway through speaking when the soldiers were upon her.

They shoved her roughly into the wall, pushing her out of the way as though they barely noticed her. Fantasma clung to the slimy stone, watching incredulously.

The guards in the throne room hesitated as the newcomers streamed out of the hallway. Several of them called out. Most were backing away uneasily, very aware of the brawl still going on behind them.

The two groups finally met. They eyed each other tensely for a moment. Then a guard in the throne room lost his head and fired at the reinforcements. Immediately, people were shooting and shouting stridently.

Still a little dumbfounded, Fantasma managed to regain her wits as Mimic seized her hand. They pelted together down the long corridor, heedless of the noise behind them, intent on getting out of the crossfire.

After a few minutes, they slowed to a walk.

Panting, Mimic turned a broad grin on her. "How was that for a daring escape?"

Fantasma shook her head. She wasn't sure what to say to him. A thousand different thoughts strove to break free from her lips, twisting her words up so that she said nothing for a while.

At last, she decided on, "How on earth did that happen? Why didn't they shoot me? Why'd they start fighting each other?"

"Whoa, slow down."

"No," she said. She could feel the color rising in her chalk-white cheeks. "Answer me."

Mimic's grin had faded a little. Fantasma couldn't help feeling a little disgusted with him. Her second wind had passed, and now she was left even more sickly and weak.

He caught her arm gently as she started to sway. "Alright, maybe I do owe you a little bit of an explanation."

Fanatasma nodded grimly. Her vision was swimming. "Do you know why we lost our powers? Was it that Groak guy?"

The question seemed to catch him off-guard a bit, but then he shrugged and said smoothly, "Of course it was. He's obviously a mutant of some sort. He can apparently make others lose their powers."

"How can you be so sure it was him?"

"Because we got our powers back when I distracted him, and then he got knocked out by Krystelle."

Fantasma was leaning heavily on him now. They walked in silence a while longer. "I wish…I wish it hadn't been C-Cat. Somehow, I can't hate him."

Mimic looked at her severely. "He's Groak's son."

"You sure seem to know an awful lot about this Groak person," Fantasma mumbled. Learning this made her angry for some reason. She staggered and almost fell. Mimic helped her regain her balance.

"I heard one of the guards talking about it," he replied vaguely. His thoughts had clearly turned elsewhere.

Fantasma had one more pressing question she was dying to ask, but she kept forgetting it. It repeatedly slipped through her fingers like oil; just when she thought she had it, it eluded her.

As the dark ends of her vision drew together from either side, she whispered, "Where did those other soldiers come from, Jake?" and completely collapsed.

By time she had revived enough to walk farther she had forgotten the question entirely.

Mimic said nothing. He remained quiet and subdued until they came upon the rest of their group. Thorn and Krystelle were in the middle of a furious debate about whether or not to go back for them. Fantasma wondered cynically which one had been all gung ho for leaving them behind.

Spider-Girl was leaning composedly against the wall, waiting for them to finish. She appeared calm. It was impossible to tell beneath the mask. She straightened when she saw them approach, her bright white eye patches fixed unblinkingly upon them.

"You're back."

Thorn looked up irritably. "What took you so long?"

"Just saving your skin," said Mimic nobly. He grinned at Krystelle and gave her a huge wink. Krystelle observed Fantasma icily. Fantasma didn't say anything, but couldn't ignore the boiling sensation in her chest.

Spider-Girl apparently sensed the tension between the group members. "You said you knew how to get out of here?" This was directed at Thorn.

Thorn nodded stiffly. "Follow me."

The four of them did so without speaking. Fantasma's stomach gave an acrid twist as she noticed Mimic fall in step with Krystelle.

No one questioned how Thorn knew her way around the labyrinth of hallways; she said only that she had been there before.

More than once, thought Fantasma, but knew better than to say anything. Her collarbone had begun throbbing with a fresh vigor.

After what seemed like hours, she led them up a steep incline - on which more than one of them nearly lost their footing - and out through a small trapdoor in the ceiling.

They found themselves on the outskirts of New York City.

Spider-Girl seemed eager to making her exit but stayed long enough to trade a few words with her rescuers (whom, she was under the impression, were as innocent of the whole thing as she was).

"Thank you," she began. Then, realizing how lame that sounded, she continued, "I never would have had a prayer of making it out of there without you guys. Especially you." She looked steadily at Fantasma.

The group murmured an awkward, "You're welcome," and acted just as keen to see the back of her.

Fantasma, more than any of them, had reason to wish her sister gone. Her emotions were a little uncertain and tangled at the moment. She wasn't sure if she wanted to send Spider-Girl away without a word or run forward, throw her arms around her younger sister, and burst into tears.

As a sort of compromise, she did neither. Instead, she let Mimic do the talking.

"Listen, we're real sorry you got all mixed up in this," he said. "I'm glad you're not too much the worse for the wear. But, noting both our humble profession and yours, I have to say that I hope we never see you again."

Fantasma thought that a fine speech to end on, but her sister didn't agree.

"Wait, I see it now," she said, the dawning of realization in her voice. She had been turning to leave, but now she faced them straight on.

"Oh, boy," said Krystelle under her breath.

Spider-Girl either didn't hear her or was so excited that she paid no attention. "You guys are that group of costumed thieves that have been robbing banks all over the east coast! There're even rumors about you making appearances in Europe."

Mimic bowed modestly. "At your service. Although our reputation precedes us a bit much, if people think we've been to Europe."

Where did he learn to talk like that? Fantasma wondered.

Spider-Girl didn't appear to be at all fazed by the news that they had not yet traveled overseas. She was practically bouncing on her toes with enthusiasm. "Da – I mean, Spider-Man's been talking about you a lot. He thinks there's something important about you guys that he needs to know."

Fantasma had raised an eyebrow at the slip-up. She casually studied her fellow team members' faces to see if they had noticed it. She was completely positive now that Spider-Girl was her sister. Her only doubt was whether or not the slip had been intentional.

Thorn shifted her weight from one foot to the other restlessly.

Mimic shrugged amiably. "I don't know why. We're pretty low on the radar compared to what he usually fights, right?"

Fantasma could envision her sister's eyes shining. She shook her head fervently. "Not after what I saw you guys doing back in that cavern." Her voice darkened. "What did they mean about 'getting us ready?' Who do you think that creepy old man was?" She glanced in Fantasma's direction.

Before Mimic could invent some response, Thorn stepped forward. "We should not linger here too long." She motioned them to begin moving away. "They will be looking for us as soon as they reorganize themselves."

She started to lead the group away, leaving Spider-Girl standing alone.

Fantasma trailed slightly behind. Looking back, she saw her sister watching them leave. Her posture, the only indication as to what she was thinking, was slumped; her shoulders were rounded forlornly. She looked very small and lonely.

Fantasma had a sudden recollection from years ago: inexpertly comforting her sister after a fall on the playground.

She raised a purple gloved hand in farewell. Spider-Girl didn't move.

Fantasma turned back to her group and started walking. She hesitated for one more backward glance, but the shadowy street was empty.

"Where are we going?" Krystelle looked around the dark city apprehensively. "Why aren't we going home?" She hugged herself, shivered, and cast Fantasma an acerbic glance. "I just want to go home."

Mimic was carrying Fantasma; she had since ceased to be able to walk. She lay in a fevered sleep in his arms. Krystelle was wishing viciously that they had just left her behind.

Thorn kept walking. She'd been leading the fatigued group for miles through winding alleyways and down lamp-lit streets. It was dreary going.

"We're not going back to the food mart," she answered calmly.

"What?" Mimic's hanging head snapped up. He took a couple quick steps to catch up to her. "What do you mean we're not going back there? That's our home! That's the only home I've ever known!" His voice started to crescendo. "All our stuff and our money and our clothes and our – "

"Shut up!" Thorn whirled around, eyes blazing, and cut him off. "You are a fool, and you don't have any idea what you're talking about!"

Mimic stared at her.

"The instant we set foot in that store, Groak would have an army surrounding the place. Believe me when I say that he has been watching you all for a long time." Taking a breath, she said more serenely, "We are going to a safe place where we can regroup and decide on our next plan of action."

They walked in silence for a few more minutes. Everyone seemed stunned at Thorn's outburst, most of all Mimic.

At last, they arrived at the steps of a broken down motel. The VACANCY sign blinked with ominous irregularity. Every part of it looked dingy and unused.

Krystelle eyed the place with distaste. She hugged herself tighter. "This is the bad side of town, Thorn," she said, stating the obvious. "Do we have to stay here?"

Thorn ignored her. She led the subdued group inside and up to the front desk. A shady-looking man sat behind it. A cigar hung out of the side of his mouth, as though he had forgotten it was there.

"Whadaya want?" he snapped at her.

Krystelle edged behind Mimic. She didn't like the way the man was looking at her. She cast an anxious glance at Thorn. They both were wondering why Thorn would be so bold as to lead them around in public in their costumes.

"I want to book two rooms," Thorn replied, whipping out a wad of cash.

The man took his time in taking in the odd sight of his ragtag customers. "Fine," he mumbled, the cigar waggling around. Mimic was amazed that he didn't drop it.

Thorn accepted the grimy keys that the man slid across the desk to her, paid, and led them outside to find their rooms.

Mimic was strong, but Fantasma was getting awfully heavy to carry for so long. He shifted her in his arms, and she murmured something in her sleep. He gazed down at her apologetically. Her shoulder had swelled visibly by now. It looked very painful.

Thorn showed them their rooms. Mimic had one to himself, while the girls would be sharing the other.

Neither of them really cared at this point. They both just wanted to crash. Mimic laid Fantasma down on her bed with great care.

"I'll take her," said Thorn suddenly. She gathered the unconscious girl up in her arms. She started toward the door.

"Take her where?" asked Mimic in alarm, following. Allie had already taken off her mask and boots and collapsed on her bed.

"Somewhere she can get medical attention."

Jake took his mask off. He didn't like the sound of that. He'd never trusted Thorn much farther than he could throw her, and right now, that trust had been about stretched to its limit.

"Idiot!" she hissed at him, motioning for him to put his mask back on. He obeyed. "No one can see you without it now, unless you are in normal clothes."

Mimic scowled. "In case you've forgotten already, I don't have any clothes anymore!"

"I'll get some."

"Right," said Mimic, sarcasm dripping from his words like venom. "And you'll wave your magic wand and heal Nikki, and make everything all right again."

Thorn looked around distractedly, shrugging off his biting words. "Something like that. Now go to your room, get some sleep, and for goodness sake, don't forget to lock the door!"

The next few days were a confused and blurry mess of sounds and images for Nikki. She spent most of it fading in and out of consciousness. She was aware of being in an unfamiliar bed, of blinding lights, of strangers talking to her.

Sometimes the pain in her shoulder was so unbearable, Nikki would wake up screaming and writhing. Other times, she was in a blissful state of oblivion.

When she began to recover, Nikki was cared for by Thorn, who observed her with placid tranquility. She learned that she had been moved from the motel to a mysterious hospital that Thorn wouldn't elaborate on. She was also informed that she had had surgery on her collarbone.

Thorn said, "You were so drugged up with morphine, you won't remember any of it."

"Who paid for that?" Nikki asked weakly. Allie had filled her in on the recent developments, namely, losing their home. Allie was still incredibly bitter toward C-Cat.

"It doesn't matter," Thorn told her. "What matters is that Jake wants to have a meeting as soon as you've recovered."

Nikki lay back. Her good arm drifted lightly over her forehead, pushing back a lock of oily hair. She hadn't had a decent bath yet. "I think it's gonna be a while before I'm up and about again."

"Oh, you'd be surprised," said Thorn cryptically. "The doctors said you have made a miraculous recovery so far. They said they hadn't seen anything quite like it before."

"What doctors?"

"It doesn't matter. Just get better quickly." Thorn got up and took her leave.

Nikki closed her eyes. She was almost asleep when she heard someone walking over to sit in the chair by her bed. "What now, Thorn?" she mumbled sleepily.

"It's me, Nik."

Nikki's eyes snapped open. She found herself staring up at Jake. He grinned roguishly at her. "Our military commander didn't want me bothering you yet, but I heard you guys talking and had to come in. How's the collarbone?"

She felt horrible self-conscious of her unwashed hair and plain face. She tried to finger-comb her messy curls. She desperately wished he could have at least waited to see her until after she had had a shower and brushed her teeth – and maybe even put on some makeup!

"Hey," he said gently, staying her hand. His green eyes met hers. "I'm done with shallow perfection."

Nikki gaped at him. "What?"

"Allie and I broke up a couple of days ago."

"Oh." Nikki couldn't think of anything to say. She supposed that she should look appropriately solemn at this news, but her insides where flipping around in a wild dance of celebration. She felt that she could almost leap right out of bed. Yes!

"Yeah," he said, looking away. "It was just getting too tense."

Nikki thought of all the times that she had heard them arguing in the last few days. And she'd seen the way Allie looked at her; that penetrating stare of hers that could wake the dead or create more.

"That's…that's too bad," she finally said.

Suddenly, their dreary circumstances didn't seem quite that bad. The sun had come out.

Soft swirls of colors…voices…familiar faces; they all melted in and out of her dream world. Nikki was basking in that wonderful void of sleep. No unresolved problems haunted her here.

One vivid dream melted into another, each completely unrelated, yet their disorganization was somehow logical to her subconscious mind.

Then a faint sound broke into her dreams. She rolled over, pushing it from her thoughts.

It came again, this time more clearly. It was…a laugh. An innocent giggle.

Nikki murmured in her sleep. Then, completely out of the blue, everything snapped into place, almost as though that one last puzzle piece had finally been fitted together.

She sat up with a cry. "C-Cat!"

Nikki found herself blinking in the dim light from the cracked motel lamp. She pulled the sheets up to her chin, still a little disoriented. She looked across to Allie.

Allie was sitting up too. Her eyes were red and puffy; she had been crying quietly. A piece of newsprint was balled up in her lap. Nikki's shout had startled her. The two girls made eye-contact for a very brief, very uncomfortable moment.

"That little traitor wouldn't dare come back now," Allie said at last with biting disdain. She sniffed so viciously that it sounded more like a snarl. Then she hurled the paper into the garbage at the other end of the room. (It wasn't that much of a feat; the room was very small.)

She rolled over to face the wall - rather than Nikki - and snapped off the light, plunging the room into darkness.

Nikki remained awake for a while longer. She couldn't shake the feeling that what had awoken her wasn't just a bad dream.

Two weeks later, they all gathered in Jake's room for the Big Meeting. Nikki had heard them talking about it for what seemed like forever.

She'd been out of bed for most of the last two weeks, but the sling had only just come off her arm yesterday. Like Thorn had anticipated, she had made a miraculous recovery.

Jake was sitting in a rickety chair, eyeing the group seriously. They watched him with grave faces. This was the moment when they would finally decide their future.

Nikki didn't want to be the first to speak, but she knew exactly what she wanted to say.

Jake jumped in first. "I know we've all been through a lot, but I hate to see us abandon each other. I mean, we're practically a family now, right?"

"Yep, one big happy family," Allie grumbled.

Jake ignored her. "So what do we do? We can't live here forever, and we don't have any cash saved up. It's still at the food mart. Or it was. Groak's probably cleared it out by now. What do we live on? I know most of us don't have any other home to go back to."

Nikki felt a twinge of guilt. Here she was; all ready to call the whole team off and split up. It had been her original intention, after all. But Allie and Jake were completely homeless.

Thorn said nothing. Nikki almost wished she would. She was the one funding everything now.

Jake turned to the only adult in their group. He appeared to be thinking along the same lines. "Well? What do you think, Thorn? You're the one with the money."

"Yeah," Allie interjected, true to her snippy attitude. It was something she had recently acquired. Nikki guessed that it probably had something to do with the break-up. "Why don't you share with us how you have a bottomless pocketbook, while the rest of us were never paid a cent?"

Thorn regarded Allie's sneer coolly. "He had to pay me to keep me. End of story."

Allie dropped her eyes and mumbled an inaudible response.

Jake looked back and forth between the two. He rolled his eyes. "So, now that we have that straightened out, what's next? We're all basically unemployed; what do we do?"

No one had any suggestions.

"I don't know about you all, but I'd personally like to retire on a little more than this." He motioned around the shabby bedroom. "No offense, Thorn," he added quickly, since she was paying.

She shrugged it off.

Surprisingly, Allie had begun watching him with a keen stare.

Jake started in on an obviously rehearsed speech. He gesticulated ardently. "Somehow, it would seem like we were letting Groak win - letting him destroy us – if we just abandoned each other and disappeared off the radar. Kinda like a couple puppies with their tails between their legs." He obviously felt very strongly about what he was saying.

Nikki didn't agree with him.

"Wouldn't you all like to have something to show for the years we spent together?" he implored.

"I want to know what Thorn is planning," Nikki intoned, breaking her silence for the first time.

Her admiration for the older woman had grown. It was almost like having a parent-figure again, except…not. Thorn was not the kind of person to ever get close enough to be a mentor, even in the most distant sense.

The trio watched the taciturn woman observantly.

She didn't say anything, just sat there stiffly.

"Thorn, please do enlighten us," Jake encouraged with a trace of exasperation.

She hesitated. "I'm staying with this little group, as long as it is my responsibility to watch out for your sorry behinds."

A flash of fire darted across Jake's face. He did not appreciate needing anyone to watch out for him. And he didn't like her tone of voice. "Just who gave you that responsibility?" he demanded hotly, leaping to his feet.

His expression reminded Nikki of her first impression of him: potentially dangerous. It frightened her. She'd never seen him look at anyone in their team like that before. Except maybe Odrade when he was refusing to pay them. Odrade deserved it, she thought sourly.

Thorn returned his fearsome gaze evenly, unmoving. She was a very tall woman. Her unnaturally straight black hair hung stiffly against her ramrod-like spine.

Without warning, Allie jumped up. "I know what to do!"

Everyone looked at her.

"The X-Mansion. It's perfect! I used to live there, remember? So I can get us in, and get us to their safe, and get us out completely unnoticed. It'll be cake," Allie finished confidently.

Despite her pretense of having just thought of the idea, Nikki knew better. In fact, the acting rather reminded Nikki of something out of a bad movie.

Jake was speechless. For once.

Allie glided over to Jake and looked up at him with that adoring gaze that would have melted his heart once upon a time. Once upon a time. And that time was long gone.

He looked hard at her. Briefly, he seemed to actually consider her idea. Then he shrugged it off and sat down again to put more space in between them. "No," he declared, as though he was pronouncing judgment on some court case, purposely turning his attention on Nikki. "It's too risky."

Allie glowered mutely. She was irate at having her suggestion scorned, and Jake paying attention to Nikki added insult to injury. Nikki braced herself for the imminent explosion.

It never came.

For what Nikki marked as the first time, Allie backed off, sat down again and remained subdued for the rest of the meeting.

The Big Meeting itself didn't live up to its name. Jake called a close, despite the strong disagreement he still had with Thorn.

"I need money, Thorn," he almost pleaded. His temper had cooled off significantly. "You've got a big name in our world. You could get work just about anywhere you tried."

"That's because I'm good," replied Thorn matter-of-factly.

Jake waved her interruption away impatiently. "Yeah, yeah. So you see my point. We've still gotta work our way up in the world. Maybe hitting the X-Mansion wouldn't be such a bad thing after all," he mused.

"No."

"No?" Jake stared at her incredulously. Since when did she say no to a job?

Thorn repeated, "No. You were right the first time. It's a foolish endeavor that would hurt you even more than C-Cat's betrayal."

A palpable cloud of tension erupted in the room at her mention of C-Cat.

"I'm leaving," said Allie, and did so.

Nobody questioned her. Jake and Thorn continued to argue; his face reddening angrily, while she kept her cool.

Nikki was bored. They weren't getting anywhere. She got to her feet and announced that she was going back to her room. Neither one acknowledged her.

A little ticked off; she ghosted through the wall back into the dingy room she shared with Allie. She didn't expect the atmosphere here to be any better.

But Allie wasn't there.

"Allie?" she called uncertainly, checking the bathroom to make sure she wasn't taking a shower. It was empty.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop rapidly. Nikki shivered. "Allie, if you're hiding, that's totally juvenile. It's not a big deal that they blew off your plan…"

Her eyes caught something. She gasped. The floor suddenly swayed below her feet and the room spun. She had to sit down. Her stomach lurched nauseously.

"Allie, what have you done?" she groaned.

The closet, where Allie's dark blue costume usually hung, was empty.

"You're sure she's here, right, Fantasma?" Mimic hissed across to his teammate.

She kept her gaze fixed straight ahead. "Oh yeah. She's here."

Thorn leaned forward, around a bush, and took in the giant mansion that loomed over the wall; the wall that was keeping them out. "How do we get in?"

Mimic grinned. "I can handle that, no problem. But it's gonna take some serious sneaking around. And who knows where to even start looking for her?"

Fantasma ground her teeth. All this stupid trouble they were going to – just to rescue some girl who probably didn't even want to be found!

"What if she came back here for good?" she asked.

The other two looked at her.

"You know," she babbled, her cheeks starting to burn. It had sounded so much more reasonable in her head… "Like maybe she was leaving us. Maybe she quit."

Mimic shook his head and cut her off. "Nope, that's not like Allie." His face darkened. "She can't leave."

"Krystelle," corrected Thorn.

"Whatever. She came back here for a reason. In all likelihood, she's just trying to prove to us that her idea was a good one." He looked at Fantasma. "You know, her mom's in jail, her dad was murdered. She's probably got a lot to prove to herself."

"Oh, no." Fantasma's eyes widened. "Oh, no," she repeated. "Those people who attacked back at the school, a long time ago, back when I first met you guys – remember when I went to check out Dr. Camdon's office after he'd been murdered? The guy who's responsible for my powers?" She waited for them to catch up. "Okay. Now, the soldier who shot me, he was wearing the same uniform as Groak's army!"

Thorn bobbed her head. "I know" was all she said.

"What?"

"When I took that guy down and saved you and Krystelle, I recognized their uniforms."

Fantasma felt lost. "So why didn't you tell me? Why'd they shoot me?"

"Remember when Groak talked of locking you all up?"

She nodded.

Thorn continued. "He was ready to collect way back then. They were trying to get their hands on you almost two years ago."

"But they knew Odrade…they could have just stormed the place, grabbed us all, and – " Fantasma was just beginning to realize the danger she had been living in for the past two years. It was sickening.

"They didn't want the others yet. They just wanted you."

Fantasma gave her a blank look. "What? Why?"

"Groak set you up, okay?" Thorn was getting agitated at having to keep talking. They were entering territory she evidently didn't want to revisit.

Mimic hadn't said a word.

"Wha – "

Thorn's voice rose slightly in volume. "Don't you get it? They've known who you were all your life! They've known what you might become, and they wanted to take advantage of it."

Fantasma felt her stomach turning uncomfortable somersaults.

Thorn pressed onward. "Kids in your class – that cute partner of yours who couldn't help with your science project, the ones who kept you talking – they were all paid! Paid to keep you distracted. Camdon was kept out of the room until you'd been infected; the bottles of the substance were tipped in the right direction ever so slightly; the scalpel was extra sharp. You have absolutely no idea what measures Groak took to make sure you would become what you are!"

Fantasma felt her knees growing weak. She sat down unsteadily. The world was spinning. Groak knew her? All her life? Then he must have known about her father! Did this all come back to him? Didn't it always come back to him? Peter Parker, the amazing Spider-Man.

"Unh," she moaned, grasping her head.

Mimic finally voiced the most important question. His face was bitter beneath the mask. "How do you know all this?"

The question hung in the air for a long time.

Thorn studied him. Then she replied, quite simply, "It has been my business for the last ten years to know everything. And that is why I'm still alive."

Mimic thought it was a lousy answer. But the intense look that passed between them was interrupted by Fantasma vomiting onto the grass.

"Oh, man. I'm sorry, Nik." Mimic patted her back awkwardly, trying not to look too grossed out, and Thorn resumed her vigil of the mansion.

"We can't take her like that," said Thorn while Fantasma wiped her mouth with a handful of leaves. "She'll have to wait for us."

"Did you want her to totally fall apart like that?" Mimic demanded, seething.

She shook her head. "I had no idea how she'd take it. And she was the one who asked the questions. I'm just the bearer of bad news." She noticed him unconsciously fingering one of his guns. She said more quietly, "Don't shoot the messenger."

Mimic yanked his hand away like it had been burned. He stared at the holster on his hip. Then, to draw attention away from it, he offered Fantasma his water bottle. She was a little too dazed to take it, so he pressed it into her hand.

After Fantasma had recovered enough to be left alone, Mimic and Thorn started walking very directly toward the front gate.

She sat in the shadow of the trees, sucking on the water bottle in an attempt to get the nasty taste out of her mouth, and watched the whole scene play itself out.

The thoughts in her head kept whirling 'round and 'round until it made her dizzy. She remembered a book she'd read once, in which a character could siphon out his thoughts… It sounded terribly appealing right now.

Fantasma couldn't hear what was going on, but she realized what at least part of Mimic's plan was. He spoke into the intercom. He was presumably imitating a voice. But didn't that fancy mansion have a camera? Wouldn't some one realize what was happening?

Then, out of nowhere, a third person joined their group. Fantasma strained to see where he had come from. Neither Thorn nor Mimic appeared surprised to see him. Who was he? It was too dark to see.

Whatever was said apparently appeased the person on the other end of the intercom because the gates swung open. The trio walked inside.

At least, it began as a trio. But it quickly became a party of one as the mystery man who had joined them disappeared into thin air, and Thorn slipped off by herself.

The gates clanged shut behind them, closing them off from her sight.

By her watch, Fantasma could tell that they were gone for the better part of an hour. She huddled in the dark, shivering as the dew soaked through her thin costume.

"Where are they?" she said to herself.

She, of course, didn't have an answer.

A familiar voice startled her awake, though she didn't remember closing her eyes.

"We're comin', Nik. Get ready to run."

She jumped to her feet, peering fearfully around the branches that hid her. She was afraid of what she was going to see. Would they all make it out? Her left leg had fallen asleep; she stamped it impatiently.

Something shimmery began creeping over the gate. It slithered over; then it stiffened, leaving a long trail behind it.

Fantasma swallowed hard when she recognized the shining pink-tinted crystal. It was creating steps up and over the gate. Krystelle had been there after all.

Three people came flying pell-mell over the stairs, barely keeping their balance on the slick crystal, and stumbling onto the ground.

Krystelle lagged behind just long enough to reabsorb the stairs in a stunning rush of crystal. Then she bolted after her teammates who were already well ahead of her.

By the time lights had come on and a proper pursuit could be assembled, they were gone into the night.

Inside the X-Mansion, a small meeting was in session. They were not meeting in the usual briefing room, however, but in the infirmary.

If Nikki had been there, she would have recognized three of the five people: Cyclops, Wolverine, and Storm. They were the trio that Nikki had watched stop Spider-Man from murdering a teenage boy. Two years ago.

There were two others that she would not have recognized. Emma Frost, a stunningly beautiful woman with a revealing white outfit and a commanding presence, stood beside the bed of a pale teenage girl.

They were all looking at the girl with concern. She had some unusual features; namely, blue hair and a pair of clunky metal gauntlets that covered her hands and arms, reaching to just a little over her elbows. The least of these was that she was also of Japanese descent.

"Are you sure you're all right, Noriko?" Emma asked once more.

Noriko nodded weakly. "Yeah, I'll be fine, Miss Frost. They didn't want to hurt me."

Cyclops stepped forward. "Then why were they here? I mean, what would they gain by getting down here to you?"

The question went unanswered.

"So," Storm said, summarizing what they had been discussing for the last few minutes, "You say that our old student Allison Camdon – "

"MIA for over two years," Cyclops interjected.

"Shh, Scott," Emma told him. "Let her talk."

Storm continued. "Allison Camdon came here to see you just because she was worried about you?"

"Well, yeah." Noriko shifted slightly. Painfully. She grimaced, but kept talking. "Everybody's been worried. We were good friends though, ya know? It was nice to know she cared enough to risk so much to come see me."

"What did she tell you?" pressed Emma.

Noriko wrinkled her brow. "Not much about herself. She just wanted to hear about the attack."

"And then a woman and a boy, neither of which you've seen before," Storm said, reading off the descriptions Noriko had given, "came marching in here and demanded that she leave."

"Uh huh." Noriko bit her lip. "They were threatening her, but I didn't understand what about. The boy called her a liar and said she was no better than some cat or other." She sniffed. "He held up a piece of newspaper. I guess that's how she found out about me, and how they knew where to find her."

"I smell something fishy going on here," said Scott, frowning.

"I smell someone I've run into before," said Wolverine in his deep, feral growl. He had been sniffing out the room.

Emma looked up from Noriko in surprise. "What?"

Wolverine nodded. "You heard me. Allie's wasn't the only scent I recognized."

Snikt! He extended his claws. "That boy who was here tonight was in the alley two years ago when we approached Spider-Man."

No one spoke while everyone digested the news.

Storm shook her head in wonder. "Then…"

"Yes," agreed Scott. "We've finally got a lead on Spider-Man's missing little girl."

"After, what? Two years?" said Emma. "She may not still be alive."

Scott put his hand on her shoulder. "Then at least we can give her family some closure."

A sharp giggle interrupted the solemn moment. Startled, Scott's hand flew to his glasses. Wolverine's claws remained out.

They found themselves staring at a sixteen or seventeen-year-old boy. His clothes were in tatters. His hair looked like an unkept bird's nest. He was standing impishly in the door way, his hands on his hips and legs spaced widely apart in a very Peter Pan-ish pose.

Before anyone could question him, he spoke in one of the most disturbing voices any of them had ever heard. It was a mixture of an ancient rasp and young child's chirp.

"I know where they are," he declared. "And I can lead you to them."

"Where?" asked Storm.

"They're going to see a man called Groak."