The day had started off poorly. Any day that starts with someone clocking you upside the head then hanging you by your ankles isn't really looking up. Remy'd had worse days, yeah but that didn't make this day better.

Getting assistance from your fellow prisoner was a good thing, sure, but having said bastard slap a collar on you took the blush off that meeting. Fucking shape-shifters, thought they'd written the damn book on getting out of captivity and subterfuge and the lot.

Then feeling your lungs stop?

Poor to shitty.

Then he'd been unable to breathe, the woman's eyes had gone wide, there'd been a gurgling sound, pink foam had spilled from her lips and she'd fallen down dead.

Remy'd stopped his breathing on purpose for a moment, hoping to avoid the had-to-be-nerve-gas, shackles clattering to the ground when limp weight had hit his shoulder.

"D'hell?"

The other man was down too, but breathing. He didn't look like a guard anymore. He didn't even look like the other prisoner anymore. He was thinner, taller, with a shock of white hair and a nose bleed. Blood in his eyes, too.

Remy knelt and picked up the gun while tugging at the collar

The collar wouldn't come off.

Dammit.

He gave the man a kick, wondered what the hell had happened while giving him another kick because for fuck's sake he hated these collars. The third kick was on principle and he shifted so the fourth one would hit ribs.

It would serve the bastard right to get left there. Remy stepped over the woman to check the hall.

... There were more bodies there. Same expression, same frothy pink on their lips.

Lovely. Shape shifting white hair bastard.... Was that, telekinetic, then? Maybe like Jean? That thing with the hair and the lock, what had that been? Mind fogging to hide your face, that was usually. That usually didn't work quite right on him.

He went farther down the hall. More bodies. Stealing the palm sized blue shard was as simple as smashing the case open and taking it. Felt almost like cheating.

The security tv's showed. More bodies. Dead bodies in cells, too.

Remy let out a low whistle.

Damn.

Oh, wait, the outside camera's showed a few guards coming back in.

He tossed the rock hand to hand. The exits were....

His conscience managed to get a hand up.

Remy sighed. "Dis ain' d'smartest idea," he muttered, back tracking and picking up the white haired bastard. "Y'lucky I just a moral enough person I don' leave you dere, d'y'here me? Be much easier, just step over y'scrawny ass." At least he was light for his height. Well, he seemed light. Maybe it was just the hair making him look taller.

If he could find his clothes, now... Remy trotted along the hall slightly awkwardly, mostly being hopeful. He got lucky, and dropped the bastard on the ground a moment to get back into his body armor, pull on the jacket. It took years to break a jacket in just right, put in all the right little pockets and holes between the lining and the leather.

Now the gem got tucked into a pocket over his heart, the man went back over a shoulder, and the cards they'd missed when they'd emptied his pockets hung between his middle and ring finger. With the collar on, it was more habit than any proper offensive maneuver but it made him feel better.

"Geddin outta here'd be a lot easier wid'out dis stupid ting on too," he said, stepping over another body, accidentally allowing the man's ankle to whack a door frame. "Y'connais, I c'd just, pow, n' be ri' out de door. B'noo, y' an y'damn mil'tary black ops f'kin bullshi' mean's y'go an y'be clever an now y'jus a pain in m'ass."

The man took the abuse quietly.

**********

Kakashi walked forward, into the trees. The bark felt... Right, under his hands. The air was right, too, not the too dry, sand filled mess, not the strange and stinking air of the city or even the base. It was clean, the way air was supposed to be. No chemical smokes, no mass of humanity.

Blood. There was a blood smell. Kakashi didn't turn around. No point. He was out of the fight, and defenseless somewhere, he was either going to wake up, or he wasn't. And if he woke up, there was a good chance that it'd be in a holding cell, strapped down, getting prodded.

And the people were good at prodding things here, so fuck 'em all he was taking this mental vacation into the woods, away from the smell of blood and the almost oppressively rising feel of a someone taking aim.

The woods thinned, quickly. Because he was running now, away from, he didn't know.

It was cowardly, it galled, and he didn't stop. No reason to. No teammates to go back for anymore, right?

The trees were arms, reaching, but the grass of the field was inviting and the sky was only starting to burn at the edges.

A pain in his side, he tripped, foot tangling in a rib cage, down a steep slope that hadn't been there before, into the thick, reeking muck of the mass grave. You could shut your eyes, if you had to, but not your nose and it was pouring into his mouth he twisted, finally looked back to see what had been chasing him.

Pain. Bloomed.

Between his eyes, like a stab, like a blunt object into his eyes, like a hammer to his skull. It went down his spine in magma like ferocity, burnt out his bones, boiled his blood, taking over his whole damn world until his chest and stomach were spasming and heaving....

"Mon Dieu!"

Bile splashed back onto Kakashi's hands, where they were planted on the floor. He tried to open an eye but it was bright and painful and he heaved again.

He was almost at dry heaves, thought he didn't really recall getting there, but from the ache in his chest and ribs and belly he'd guess about ten minutes of being in this position.

His head still hurt, badly. The worse it ever had, really, and he'd been hit in the head a lot. Someone was talking in gibberish at him.

Kakashi panted, eyes still shut, not moving when the heaves stopped. The ringing in his ears almost drowned out the gibberish but every single sound was still lemon juice in the raw wound of his mind.

A hand on his shoulder meant the owner got an elbow in his face.

Kakashi's balance got throw off by that though, so he didn't block the kick to his ribs properly and fell into his own puke.

Ow. And again, ow.

He caught the third kick, put the other man on his ass before finally looking around.

Too bight, too damn bright. Hotel. Gutted. No,, looted, empty. Probably condemned. Probably guarded.

He pushed up off the ground and fell again. Face to the dusty ground, dust in his mouth.

His mouth?

Kakashi's hand went over his face.

Okay, up, sitting up, tearing his shirt, wrapping it around his head. The other man was just watching now, Kakashi could feel it. He didn't give a damn. There was only one other person, and that man wasn't trying too hard to attack.

A longer look.

"The thief," he managed, feeling the makeshift mask absorb the liquid on his chin.

"D' teif," Remy agreed, then added. "D'un dat drug y' scrawny ass oudda dere, b'd way a' considerable risk t'my own pers'nal saf'ty."

Kakashi groaned. "Shutup, fuck, ow." At any minute this'd drop to hangover level pain, right?

Haa, he could dream.

There was the window. Well, there was where a window should go. He started to stand to look out of it.

"Dat's not da best idea dere," Remy said, catching Kakashi's arm before he toppled over.

Kakashi gave the man a glare that he hoped convey just how little he cared about the man's opinion, and just how MUCH he wanted it to be quiet. Shrugged the grip off.

"Dis place been condemned, see? So dey have d'army hangin roun' ou'side d'doors ta make sure dat d' undesirable's, like, y'know, us, dun 'hang out here and do d'undesirable tings."

"Army," Kakashi got up anyway, looked out the window. He braced himself, pursed his lips.

Once upon a time, when he'd been able to use his dogs much more often, he'd been able to whistle for them over a five mile area. This wasn't quite that good, but it'd work.

"D'hell! Don' do dat till y'get dis collar off a' me!"

Kakashi shrugged. "I'm shit with electronics anyway."

"... y'put dis on me an dinna know how t'ged id'off? Y'got dem cuffs off!"

"Just sit still and try not to look like an insurgent," Kakashi said, ignoring the fact rage was almost tangible in the room. "And the cuffs weren't electronic, those new collars tend to kill the prisoner if they're tampered with."

"'Mind me t'say tank you fa 'puttin id on me when dey move it, den."

"You like to give people reasons to really screw you over, don't you?" Kakashi said, listening to feet tromp up the stairs outside. "I mean, I can barely understand you anyway but when you say things like that, all I hear is you volunteering for the fascinating and short life of a human target."

"Y'like makin a man sorry 'e 'ad da moral fiber na' t'leave y'ass in danger, don' ya?"

"How did I get the broken ribs?"

"Mebbe y's a bid slippery."

Then there were men with guns in the room. Kakashi eyed the barrels a moment, then the men.

Luckily, one of them recognized Kakashi. Kakashi had to take a moment to place him, but...

"Carey, get that collar off of him," he jerked his thumb at Remy.

"Sir?" A tiny bit hesitant and obviously unwilling to put the gun down. Kakashi stared at him a moment, until the young man did as he was told. "Yes sir. Sorry, sir."

"And you? Put your hands up and act sociable," Kakashi shut his eyes, leaned against the wall. "No one talk unless they have too. That's an order."

He could hear everything just fine. Solider boy two, who's name he didn't know, kept quiet. Carey was probably pulling out a small tool kit to deal with the collar. In a few seconds it'd snap.

Carey was good with that sort of thing. One of the first 'graduates' of the training program Kakashi'd helped Naruto build up. Well, helped Naruto polish a bit at the end there. That close Remy could probably notice the man's double irises, or the fact his mouth was too wide. Maybe not the mouth thing, the kid showed off his molars when he smiled but right now he was probably making that serious expression and...

Click-thud. That was the collar off, hitting the ground.

"He can go," Kakashi said, not moving.

A shuffle. The man left, not another word.

Kakashi smiled. "Carey?"

"Sir?"

He tossed over the blue stone that looked like it'd been chipped off something bigger. "Go find out what the hell that is, and why Remy LeBeau was supposed to take it."

**********

Somewhere, sometime that night, a Cajun cursed the moon blue.

Author note: I like reviews.