Howdy! Thanks to everyone who has stuck by me and is still reading, especially you Liz, who reviews every time! Love you, guys. :)
(Three)
"Don't mind the kid," Sabretooth said, walking through the still open door of Kyle's holding cell and joining Romulus and Daken as if he belonged there. "He's just embarrassed about what Skye made him do. And the fact that he loved every fucking minute of it."
Kyle saw the big man come and slumped low, feeling the last of his hard won control begin to crumble and fall away from him. Yes, Remy had taught him as best he could, but the Thief's newer method of helping him deal with all of this was something as yet untried in the field. Remy's training could only carry him so far and this was so very hard to bear, even if he hadn't already been in such physical pain. The thoughts of his precious love could not compete with these darker revelations causing him mental torment. He was now being forced to face things he had long avoided thinking about. He was being swamped.
Kyle hadn't forgotten that Victor was here amongst these other monsters, but he had foolishly hoped that their reunion in the train would be their last. It seemed the cruelty that the world was willing to dish out to him was endless and overflowing. No amount of training could help a man like him, a man who walked constantly on the thin red edge of his unceasing anger to overcome this.
The others back home had no idea what it was like for him, always having to restrain his fiery temper when there were so many triggers out there for him – certain scents, sounds, and phrases – things that dredged up so much crap he would rather forget. Seeing the kids bicker in the woods, the weaker Julien being picked on by the stronger boys, Gryphon's roaming eyes, these were triggers. Yes, her lovely face could help him with those sort of triggers, but having his deepest darkest skeletons dragged out of the closet by this asshole? The vision of her couldn't help him with that. How could it? It was bad enough that yet again, his former tormentor was here face to face but now this guy was willingly dredging up things that were best left in the past for all to hear. The microphone was still there, its bright red light reminding Kyle that with every word, his team was moving further and further away from him. He couldn't be sure of how much of his past even Remy had been aware of nevermind the others, not that it mattered now. Soon the whole world would know everything.
There was more to it than just that, of course. Kyle wasn't sure what rankled more, the fact that his dirty laundry was about to be gleefully aired for all to hear or that Skye's ultimate rejection of him still burned deep and ugly. Kyle had been with Skye the longest and he had been too tightly bonded to the demented Siskan for him to fully walk away as Sabretooth had. On the day that Victor had disappeared after the mission in Twilight, Skye's last words to Kyle were to the effect that the weaker, less acceptable lion had been left behind and what a waste that had been. Like a child who was told by a sick and twisted parent that he was ugly even though he wasn't, Kyle had never forgotten it. He no longer had any contact with Skye, but that didn't mean the Siskan's presence didn't still linger in some small yet significant way.
Angry now and filled with the deepest darkest, blackest hate, Kyle forgot himself and what little self control he had. He lunged at Sabretooth, needing desperately to make someone pay for this disaster. Victor, anticipating this, saw him coming and quickly stepped back. Kyle's sharp teeth clacked on empty air even as he sent new horrors of pain up and through his shoulders and lower back from the effort. Like the Wild Child of old, this pain did not stop his wrath, even as a second, more powerful lunge popped one shoulder right from its socket with a sickening crack.
Sabretooth knew Kyle couldn't reach him now so he stood as he was, watching with a familiar pure delight as the boy worked himself into a frenzy that did him no good, just like the good old times. Even if Kyle had been able to break free, he was presently too malnourished to be of any real challenge if they were to actually fight. He would be no sport.
Kyle did not know it, but Victor had been in this very same position not all that long ago, when Romulus had first taken him right out from under the X-men's noses. Romulus had been the one to steal Sabretooth away from the X-men and had brought him here to be examined, just as Kyle was being looked at now. Disoriented and distrustful of these men he hadn't known, Victor had snapped the chains on his first try. Being better fed, he had at least a hundred pounds if not more on Kyle and his captors had underestimated his resolve to never be caged. The force of Sabretooth's rage had impressed Romulus and made him more charitable. When the big man had finally calmed enough to be reasoned with, Romulus had offered him some rank and he had accepted it willingly, ever the survivor.
Sabretooth, high on his new rank and privilege, was happy to keep running off his mouth at Kyle's expense. He looked down on the boy now and sneered, "You should have seen him when Skye fucked him. He squealed for it just like a little girl. Bet he'd do it again if he had a chance. He may be Lupine based on his looks but he sure as hell ain't no alpha."
"He could be with training," Romulus reluctantly offered, frowning a little. He was looking down on Kyle now less favorably. He hadn't liked how reckless the boy had been. Kyle, defeated now by his own wrath, had crumpled at Romulus' feet. Now that his resolve was gone, he was too weak to even try to pop his shoulder back into place. He was a broken and twisted ruin, tears streaming from his eyes. Pathetic.
"He never responded to any Program," Sabretooth reminded. "And look, even his own people don't trust him. He's got a tracker on."
He was referring to the tracking anklet Kyle still wore, a silver chain that glittered there by his foot, the same as Julien wore. Daken had seen it of course, he was exact about everything he did, but he hadn't bothered to remove it, doubting that down here its signal could be received from anyone outside the facility. The walls here were too thick, the floor too far underground for cell phones either. It held no threat to any of them.
"And yet someone took the time to pierce his ear," Romulus mused, having noted the very new looking gold stud in the boy's right earlobe. Being a healer meant it was impossible to date the actual time the stud had been inserted of course, but the jewelry itself looked very fresh and expensive.
"He could have done that himself," Victor argued.
"Perhaps, but somehow I think not. There is no vanity in this one. My guess is he did it to please someone. There is much going on here that I think even his team mates do not understand," Romulus observed. "Mysteries to be uncovered later. I'd still like the boy tested. They do say fire can be purifying. Let's find out. Daken, if you please."
"As you wish, Master."
(break)
Still in holding, Remy cursed again when he heard Sabretooth's voice come through the speakers, this was going from bad to worse. This was totally out of control now. What he had presumed had been a simple kidnapping for possible recruitment had just escalated into a whole new animal. He had hoped Sabretooth was gone for good back when he had disappeared weeks ago. Gambit did have one aspect of relief, though - if it was Victor who had told Romulus about Skye then maybe the Complex back home might not have been as compromised as he initially feared. All things being relative, anyhow.
Remy and Sabretooth had a history together, one that hadn't gone well. The man could never be fully trusted, no matter what the situation. Really, he shouldn't have been surprised to hear the man's voice, not when this was sounding like something that was little more than family squabbling. Of course when Logan's family bickered, it more often than not got a little bloody. Collateral damage was the norm, not the exception. He had to get the kids out of here before this mess spilled over onto them any more than it already had.
Remy could sense that the kids were restless around him, growing more and more disturbed by how badly outed Kyle was getting by these cruel men. Hercules was especially upset, but for different reasons, Remy could see. The boy's homophobic tendencies were going into hyper-drive and he could almost hear the boy's inner thoughts. Just how many of these guys were gay anyhow? As if any of that should matter.
It was mattering to Kyle at the moment, however. His voice was coming out loud and clear over the speakers.
"Mrr! You let Skye fuck you, too!" Kyle bawled at Sabretooth, wanting to spread the humiliation around where it properly belonged. He was horrified at the thought of the others hearing this, but then he probably never had their respect even before this. If not this would no doubt just finish him off. He didn't know if he was ever going home again now, so what difference did it make what was said, really? "You did anything... mrr! Skye asked!"
Sabretooth wasn't the least bit fazed by Kyle's sloppy outburst. His voice was calm as he explained, "Sorry, kid. You got it all wrong. I let him force me just for the healin', kid. And it was worth it, for this," Victor replied, showing himself off. Unlike Kyle, he had been more than healed from what Jael had done to them both. While he hadn't hung around long enough with Skye for a secondary mutation to occur, he was better than before, well muscled and powerful. And still mean enough to make sure he was fully understood, he would have Kyle's heart and mind shredded and stripped down to the core. He wasn't lying when he argued, "But for you, it was much more personal, wasn't it? You actually loved the guy. You liked it, you submissive little pussy - bein' owned - and didn't want it to end. You'd go right on back now and spread yer little furry legs for him, wouldn't you, if that bastard up and called yer name. Don't even try to deny it. Yer too weak to be yer own master, always have been. You were jealous of me when I had Skye's full and undivided attention. What does that say about you, boy?"
Kyle turned away from the awful truth, choking on a bitter sob of abject misery. None of this was a lie and it burned through his chest like he had swallowed pure acid. There was nothing more to say here, all that was left was to die well. Sabretooth could get a pass for the bad behavior but never him, never him. No one would have him now, that had been made very clear. Not even her, his precious love, would be able to tolerate him now, not after what he had done. Still, Remy had never said that the saving dream had to be a reality, did he? Kyle grasped once more for her and then he was gone, his mind fully blank. Death, it would be a mercy. So let it come.
Romulus watched the boy simply shut off again and couldn't help but admire it. It was almost enough for him to forgive the boy's earlier lapse of control. Romulus had made attempts to train a great many of his Lupine kin in the art of separation and even in this Daken, his best pupil, had rarely succeeded.
"Your spirit is strong, little lion," Romulus praised, using Skye's nickname for him in a gesture that betrayed just how much he had been told. "Let's see how well it holds up to the true test."
Daken nodded and got ready, moving to one side that allowed him enough access to Kyle to control him should he actually break free, but also one that gave him an unobstructed view of Kyle's back. He needed it, he was the one holding the stopwatch.
Romulus took the can of Lysol spray and the lighter and moved behind the now still young man. The only sign that betrayed that the lad was awake and aware was the continued shaking of his poor distressed body. Romulus looked down on Kyle's scrawny back, noting the sad fact that he could count every vertebrae in the kid's spine as well as most the ribs that were sticking out of his skin like he was a refugee from some starving third world country. He had no body fat so this likely wasn't going to take long. Romulus couldn't imagine how any creature so wretched would even want to continue in life, never mind serve on anyone's team. Maybe he could help with that, if the boy gave him a chance. Of course, first he would have to prove himself worthy of Romulus' attention at all.
"Remember that there will be reward in this for you, should you pass this test," Romulus promised before he began.
Kyle no longer gave a shit – not about his words or anything else. Kyle had been through so much, passed hands from one madman to the next. Romulus failed to understand that to Kyle he was no different from Jael, from the men who had stolen him for Weapon X, even from his own father who had blamed him for everything that had gone wrong in their lives and beat the shit out of him. Why should he care what any of them said? Kyle was done, done with everything now.
Romulus took a breath, preparing himself and began.
Good ole Kyle, he was so very brave – at first. He managed to keep quiet even as the flames began to set his tender flesh alight. Even as what little meat there was covering his bones melted away. Even as Victor crouched down in front of him, his terrible mouth split in an evil grin of delight as watched what was being done to him, as if Kyle in some way deserved it.
Maybe he did, Kyle's poor fracturing mind reasoned with itself. So many horrible crimes he had committed in his long life though there was one that stood out above all others. He saw her eyes, his precious love. How they once had smiled at him with the most adoring gleams of golden light. But all that had changed, hadn't it? It wasn't from the ugly revelations these cruel men had brought to light. No, Kyle had done the damage all on his own, only hours before Aiden's texted scramble. He had done it with his own stupidity and feral lust.
The burning of his flesh was agonizing, quite possibly the worst pain he had ever felt. Something that hurt this bad could only end in death, of that he was certain. He would never get to save his team or even die for them in a blaze of glory and honor. He would never get to be the hero. But most of all, he would never get to apologize to her face, to the one he loved best. He could still try, though, he could shout it in the hopes that she would hear it and understand. This he could do before he died, he could do that one thing at least.
The thought of it finally broke him, of what he had done to her, and all of the pain he was feeling and the horror finally leapt from him in an agonizing howl. "Grace! Grace! I didn't mean it, Grace! Mrr! Mrr! I'm so sorry! Grace! Oh, God... ! Grrraaaace...!" Whatever else he might have added was lost in a drowning garble of spit, blood and madness. Having exhausted even the extended limits of his tolerance for pain, Kyle slumped and let go, let the darkness finally take him.
Romulus stopped the flames just as the last of Kyle's bowel loosening cries echoed away into the empty air. He was cold and detached, not the least bit concerned or remorseful about the inhuman cruelty he had just delivered, that Kyle was in fact a living breathing person and not just another piece to add to his collection. Still, he had to admit admiration. He had expected Kyle to fade fast and fall pathetically, but he had held out for a proper interval before he had begun to bleat like the sacrificial lamb and Romulus began to wonder just how many people had underestimated the boy, including himself.
The room was quiet now, the only sounds were the soft sobs of Kyle's semi-conscious stupor and the ticking of Daken's stopwatch, timing the rate of healing.
Sabretooth squinted, not liking the quiet, and grunted, "Who the fuck is Grace?"
(break)
Gambit heard Kyle shout Grace's name and was shocked silent from one too many bizarre revelations coming out from this ugly interview on public display. Kyle's intimate relationship with both Skye and Sabretooth Remy had known in all of its ugly, brutal detail, it had been documented in Kyle's recruitment files but was kept private with only limited access. He had thought himself clever, the knower of all of Kyle's dark secrets. Guess he was wrong. Kyle and Grace? It was just too unexpected. Where had that come from? He was well trained enough to keep himself from calling out to the girl to confirm any of this - he didn't want to give away her identity to their captors - but he couldn't stop his eyes from seeing the truth of it in her shine. It was dark and cloudy with horror and shame. He wasn't sure what upset him the worst - seeing her so trashed or the fact that these two having some sort of relationship had gotten completely past him. He had prided himself on what he thought were his superior powers of observation, but damn, these two had certainly been clever. They had wiles.
In her cell across from her troubled team leader, Grace knelt with her eyes tightly closed. Both Izzie and Tilda had come closer in sympathy but she had kept them away with a sharp shake of her head, knowing the same as Remy did that it would be very bad for any of these men who held them to understand who she really was.
Grace most often projected herself to others as strong willed, one of the strongest girls she knew, but inwardly right now she was a complete wreck. It was bad enough that the one she had loved best was being subjected to such humiliation, torture, and pain, but to hear his heartfelt and pained apology, one she hadn't needed since he had been immediately forgiven the moment he had run from her yesterday, nearly tore her in two.
To Remy's credit, the pair hadn't been an actual item long though the attraction had been there from the beginning. Grace had been among the kidnapped mutant children there at Twilight when the X-men had rushed in to save them. At first her golden slotted eyes had fallen on her savior – Logan – the one who had actually released her and brought her out of captivity. She had even been lucky enough to score one of Wolverine's ripped up Gold Team jackets, one she still guarded jealously as a favored trophy. He had never asked for it back even though he had seen her wear it around more than once. But before she had departed from Twilight, she had witnessed Kyle in full feral glory, snacking away on one of Jason Frosts' guards he had taken down. While seeing such blatant cannibalism might make most run away in horror, on her it had the opposite affect.
If Logan's wife Karen were here, the X-men's resident psychiatrist, she would have a not so clinical term for Grace's condition – she would call Grace a Clawdog, a girl who has more than a passing fancy for feral men. It wasn't a derogatory word, only simple slang, and it described Grace well. Karen would know this, of course, since she was one herself. Not that Karen knew Grace well, Grace was much too grounded to need Karen's services beyond the compulsory visits required for team inclusion.
After her rescue, Grace hadn't known that she would see Kyle again once she and the other kids had been taken to the Arizona Complex. The X-men did not as habit take prisoners by force. The kids had been given the choice to stay or leave and like most, Grace had chosen to be included amongst the people under the X-men's care. Once there Grace had quickly learned that Kyle was still considered a criminal and had been packed off to their small jail. He was denied a place within the free population.
Grace had been surprised to be invited to join Remy's newly formed Red Team but had been delighted to serve. She was an adventurous girl and one who enjoyed her chances. But when she saw that Kyle, too, had been included, well, she was sure to take advantage of any opportunity that might bring. It was fate, she reasoned, and who was she to argue? When the team was asked to help Kyle along with his education – being a former Weapon X reject didn't mean that his academics were up to speed – she had eagerly volunteered to tutor him in math and English. There hadn't been much competition – most of her team mates were pretty well afraid of him and with good reason, he was still wild and on the edge. They all knew that he had done bad things and well, most suspected that some of those bad things might happen again and to one of them. They didn't want much to do with him for that reason.
Grace was different in that regard, but then, unlike them, she'd had some experience with hardcore ferals before and they had not. Before Grace had been picked up by Jason Frost's goons, she had been part of a street gang, one that had been headed by a feral boy that wasn't much tamer than Kyle was.
Cristof Patterson had been tall and lean, dark haired haired and had bright shiny blue eyes that could pin you down as easily as any vampire charm. He had the clawed hands and long fangs of the best of his kind and a mild healing factor to match. He was furrier than Kyle, though, having also a long tail that flowed behind him. He was magnificent to behold, his street fighting skills the graceful dance of every big cat Grace had ever had the pleasure to watch on the Nature Channel. He was the most beautiful human she had ever seen. Or at least it had seemed so to Grace, fresh and only fourteen at the time and a runaway.
Grace's parents had been devoted to their children and had taught her that everyone was to be loved and accepted as they were but it had all been a lie. Those rules had gotten broken early once those pesky ole horns had showed up on her forehead, ones impossible to hide. Mom had been willing enough to overlook them but her dad simply hadn't been able to, abusing her verbally and then trying to hide her away. Worse than her simple cosmetic challenges was the first time they saw her shift into a goat. Well, to say they were horrified is something of an understatement. They were unsure if they needed a doctor or a priest. Was she demonically possessed? Cursed? They were beside themselves. If Grace had found her father belligerent before, now it was worse. When her mother became unwilling to come to her aid, young Grace had had enough and packing a few meager belongings, left home for good, and had never once looked back.
The gang had been open to newcomers at the time she had joined, her protruding goat horns making it clear she was more than qualified to belong. All of them had some outward sign of their mutancy and they wore those signs with obvious pride. Grace was thrilled and for the first time in a long while felt she was where she really belonged. That didn't mean that the handsome young feral man in charge was all over her, no, she had had to work long and hard to get Cristof to see her as anything special.
If you wanted to achieve high rank in any multi-member gang, especially one on the streets, you had to have a bigger talent set than a pair of nifty looking horns. If you could gather food and successfully scrounge up clothing, you were well appreciated and she was good at both, being just as wise as she was charming with sympathetic restaurant owners. Grace and her virginity parted ways early, it was the quickest way to score the best food scraps, but really, sex became something she had grown to enjoy quickly and the men who favored her had been for the most part gentle enough about it. The men had been scummy, yes, but never cruel.
Grace had always been an optimistic girl, her very best talent being adaptable to sudden change and being able to roll with those changes – home one day, homeless the next. Cold and hunger did not defeat her any more than being a mutant had. She coped with life as it was and as she grew both in skills and in spirit, she made it clear that she had one true goal in mind – she wanted to be Cristof's girl, his Lupa, his second in command and his one and only. Lucky for her, he noticed her more and more as her ability to provide for his group increased. Still, that alone hadn't been enough to lock her in. No, that had taken something else.
Cristof was their leader, but he often stole away, leaving on his own to some private place that none of them knew about. One day, a very brave Grace managed to track him down, or perhaps it simply was that he had wanted her to come and see, to learn what he truly was.
She followed him down dirty alleyways until he came to one patrolled by desperate drunks and filthy whores. He took his time, selecting the one he wanted, and then when the moment was right, Cristof took down his prey – a wino not more than skin and bones – and dragged him off to an empty, burned out building to feast. It had scared Grace at first, discovering that their leader was actually a talented serial killer – he had clearly been much too practiced at this for this to have been his first time. But then the more she watched him, the more it had thrilled her. His darkness, the beast inside of him that no carton of regular food could ever feed. She watched him consume the parts of his kill that he liked best and then she made herself known to him, not wanting to hide the way it had made her feel. Cristof watched her come, waiting for the accusations of being so monstrous to come, but when he saw that what she was thinking was quite the opposite, he smiled his bloody, toothy grin at her and took her boldly, making furious and passionate love to her only feet away from the man he had just hunted down and murdered. It had been the most erotic moment of her life and one she would never forget.
It wasn't a politically correct moment, she knew that, a man was dead. It was wrong to be doing this with that man's dead body so close, not even gone quite cold, but she wanted Cristof so badly she could hardly care. Plus she had been living on the streets long enough to understand that out here only the strong survived. She and Cristof were young, vital, and very much alive. His body burned against hers, its heat a lure she would never be free from, nor did she have any desire to be rid of it. She could do this with him forever.
When the pair returned to their gang, his secret well kept between the two of them, she finally had that which she had wanted most - Cristof firmly by her side. They both had what they had truly craved – mutual acceptance for who they were, as they were.
Well, all that had been nicely undone by mean ole Jason Frost. Weeks later, he came with his men, all dressed in black and well armed with dart guns. They crept into the gang's cozy hideaway under a large overpass and reaped their havoc. The gang members came awake to find themselves hunted and they broke apart, street rules demanding that each fend for themselves. The jumpers and fliers got away quick, the lucky ones. Grace was trim and healthy, but had never been athletic and so she was no match for these skilled hunters. Poor Grace got snared early and well, any hopes that Cristof would come to her rescue died quickly. He fled into the night and since she never saw him again, she figured he had escaped Frost's clutches and had found himself a new home in less turbulent waters.
The loss might have devastated her but she was above all else, a survivor. After her rescue from Frost, she found her own comfortable home under the X-men's tender care. Here was warm food, a clean bed and well, no one was hunting her down for favors she didn't care to dole out. When Remy invited her to join the Red Team, any lingering thoughts of discovering Cristof's whereabouts vanished as if they had never been. Then, just a few days later, Cristof had been replaced quickly enough by her next target – shy little Kyle Gibney.
Kyle had much in common with Cristof – a feral disposition and the same dark appetite – but he was also quite different. In him, Grace could see a desire to be better, to overcome all the misuse he had suffered. He was remorseful and sad, broken in his heart and soul. He was a drowning man with a single hand held out of the water, just waiting for someone to come along and pull him out. It brought out the young mother in her and now being far more mature than she had been before Twilight, she wanted to be the one to save him from the darkness and bring him back into the light.
It began with simple tutoring. As a runaway, Grace had missed out on the later grades but she had been quite smart in the ones she had attended. She picked up her lessons quite quickly here at the Complex once her education had resumed and had been more than happy to share what she had learned with Kyle. He had been distrustful of her at first, he had been used by far too many ugly people not to be, but her fearlessness of him and her bright happy smile won him over quickly enough.
At first Grace was sure how Kyle felt about her but after just a couple of meetings, she would catch him looking at her. He would quickly turn away, busted, but moments later, his eyes would be on her again. Getting his attention wasn't going to be hard. This wasn't like Cristof where she had to work to win his attention, but she could tell by his perpetual shyness that if this was going to move beyond simple friendship, she would still have to be the one making the moves.
Not that Grace was hurting for suitors. With her charm and easy going ways, she was hit on by many of the young boys who trained and attended classes with her. But Grace had a type and for the moment, Kyle was the only who came close to fitting it. She had eyes for no one else.
Kyle fell fast once he realized the attraction was mutual. He had few friends and was charmed by anyone who was so willing to spend time with him. And she had been quite persistent, being almost pushy in her attempts to spend as much time with him as she could. Her being very pretty and funny was an added bonus. At first the lessons were just simple math (Kyle's advanced age didn't mean he had been given a quality education when it came to academics), then they discovered they had some common interests – Kyle liked to read and they shared some books. The more they talked about the books, the better they got to know each other. Grace had been shocked at how smart Kyle actually was, something few people even noticed.
They were also discovering other things they had in common. Recently they had been hanging out in the Complex's grand Solarium, a huge park like area deep underground where the Arizona heat couldn't touch them. Lounging on the grass and giving Kyle one of his lessons, Grace happened to catch sight of Remy's wife Molly playing with their twins out on the grass. The sight of them prompted Grace to say to Kyle, "I miss my mom."
"I never had one," Kyle confessed softly, the first time he had ever done so. Who else had there been in the world that would care about his humble beginnings? Certainly not the men who had taken him and used him for their own sick purposes. Certainly not Jael and even as cautiously close he and Logan had become the man had never pressed him for details on his past.
Grace just smiled at Kyle, her pretty brown eyes optimistic even as she was sympathetic. "Everyone has one even if they never met."
"Mine died, mrr! .. birthing me."
"Oh, sorry..." Grace apologized. Sometimes she just forgot how bad life could be.
"My dad said it was my fault."
"Yeah? If it's any consolation, your dad was an asshole, just like mine."
He looked at her then, squinting slightly. She had learned that he did this when he was confused and what threw him most was how to read people in social situations. He had been abused, that much she knew from just asking around although the details were pretty spare. She knew that while he might look only seventeen or so, he was much, much older. Older than her dad, even. He hadn't matured much with all those years, he certainly didn't act like some old dude and not at all like Logan who seemed so much in control of his emotions.
"You're not so bad, you know," she advised, smiling at him with all of the warmth one besotted girl could muster. "Just because your old man said that doesn't mean he was right. I know mine wasn't."
The way she was looking at him now, so earnest and friendly, it made him feel funny, in ways he had never felt before. He could see that she was waiting, that she was expecting him to do something here, but being so socially inept, he wasn't sure what.
Grace was smart enough to see he was a bit clueless but wasn't about to let him waste so prime a moment. She leaned in and let him know what she wanted by pressing her lips against his.
The kiss was clumsy and not just because she didn't want anyone to see them. Kyle's face was abnormal, his jaws pushed out in a blunted half snout because of all the large and dangerous teeth he had in there. She knew his fangs were very real, she saw them every time he smiled, something that was happening more and more often these days. Of course the fact that he had never seen this coming didn't help his cause any either. He couldn't have been more surprised.
When it was obvious he had no clue what he was doing, Kyle turned away embarrassed. Being so much older, he should have been the more experienced here when in fact he wasn't. She didn't let him dwell on things that didn't matter but pulled him in again, whispering, "Slow, just go slow..."
It was better after that but she could feel him shaking with emotion. He had no guile, he was much too wild, it would always be obvious when he was agitated. She didn't want to get him too riled too quickly so she backed off and let him breathe. They talked some more after that, but then it was time for him to go back to his cell. It didn't change her mind in the least. She was determined that this small intimacy wasn't to be their last and she had her way. She just hadn't been prepared for how traumatic the result of that decision would be.
Grace was a clever girl, always had been, and once she had her mind set on something, most often found a way to make it happen, whether it was wise to do so or not.
Taking advantage of the fact that Remy had been sent away to Logan's cabin, Grace had used her charms to set her plans in motion. Kyle was let out from his prison cell only on a limited basis. He could attend classes, take tutoring, and of course, drill for hours with his team. It was the tutoring part that Grace had taken the most liberty with. In the lockup Kyle had guards and outside he had minders that followed him about and kept an eye on him. Those minders had grown lax over time because Kyle had shown no signs of becoming violent in weeks. In spite of having eaten someone at Twilight, so far he hadn't attacked anyone at home. Most often, once Kyle was in Grace's care, they would wander off to do something a lot more fun. Afterwards, Grace would walk Kyle back to the lockup with no fuss, saving the minders some work. So far, there hadn't been any trouble, Kyle was behaving well.
Grace had seen to it that on this particular day the minders had left Kyle alone with her. She was an observant girl and over the past weeks had made note of many secret places they could potentially slink off to for some private time alone with no one the wiser. This wouldn't be the first time they had snuck off together, but it would be the first time they would utterly alone with no one close by if anything should go wrong. She had no fear - nothing bad had happened before so why would it now?
Grace had that day selected a large storage closet in a secluded area. She had planned ahead and left some things there for their use – some candles, a present she had purchased and of course, some blankets.
Kyle, just as eager as she was to be alone together, gave her no fight. He went where she led, meek as a lamb. If he was surprised to be taken to so private a place as the storage closet he gave no sign. He certainly didn't protest one bit.
Once inside the room and alone, Grace put into action the first part of her plan, she gave him the present she had brought. Kyle opened the tiny box and was surprised to see a single golden stud earring, the ball carved into the shape of the head of a big cat, snarling. Not a lion, perhaps, but close. While Grace had many rings and other forms of jewelry, Kyle had never owned any such thing in his whole life. He understood that these past weeks she had been doing so much more than simply tutoring him, she was also helping him to get more in touch with the times he was living in. Grace had introduced Kyle to many new things he hadn't had the opportunity to experience with all of his time in captivity and lockups. Art and music, her favorite bands in particular. He enjoyed these things, not because he actually liked them but because they were hers.
Grooming had been big with her and she had done well with him, getting him to cut his hair shorter and keep his little chin beard neat and trimmed. This earring was just another attempt to help with his appearance.
Her smile was wide as she asked, "Do you like it?"
Kyle nodded, warmed by her thoughtfulness and eager to please her. It hadn't been a generic stud she had bought, the fact that she had given enough to consideration to purchase something more personal to him spoke volumes to his poor wounded heart.
"You know why I chose that, don't you?"
"Mrr! Kyle little lion," Kyle answered. While Grace hadn't known it, Skye had once named him Famayalin which meant Little Lion in Siskan. Even now, after all of the petty cruelties the Siskan had voiced in his direction, Skye still had a small hold on poor Kyle's soul and perhaps always would. Her choice pleased him because it reminded him of that earlier, happier period. Could he be happy again? Perhaps now he could.
Grace knew none of this of course and shook her head. "Do you remember that conversation we had a while back? How I had told you that I thought every person had some kind of animal spirit looking after them?"
Kyle nodded. He was besotted with her enough to forget little of what she told him. He often replayed their conversations in his mind in the small hours of the long empty night, alone in his cell.
"You know that I believe the goat is my animal totem," she reminded. She had good reason to think so, her horns and the ability to shift back and forth into goat form was hardly subtle. "Yours is the lion. Maybe not a full sized one, but a cougar perhaps."
Kyle smiled, liking that. The smaller shape was closer to the truth of his own body size, but the creature she offered him was no less fierce.
"You know mine is the ram. Since these animals have graced us with their favor we should do our best to honor them. I have a ram stud," she paused here to lift her hair and show him that she too, had a stud just like his, only in the shape of that ram. "..and now you have one, too. So? Will you let me pierce you?" she asked, a playful grin on her face.
Seeing her shining face at that moment, he would have agreed to anything, no matter how painful, just to please her. He could have cared less about animal totems or spirits, but he could deny her nothing. She looked so lovely in the candlelight, her slotted eyes so lovely to behold. "Mrr! Go ahead..."
Grace smiled even more at that, happy that he had given in with no resistance. She knew that he was wild but also a healer. Getting his ear pierced was something he probably wouldn't even feel, not compared to the horrors he had experienced in the past. While she didn't have access to his personal files, it had been no secret around the Complex that Kyle had been involved in a great many brutal fights, not the least of which had been the devastating Game, where so many of the mutants here had died. He was no stranger to pain.
Grace prepped her gear, cauterizing a large gauge sewing needle in the fire of the tiny candle. Being a healer this was probably unnecessary but it was still part of the ritual. She then had him lean forward and coming in close, carefully pressed the needle through his earlobe. As expected, he barely felt it, only giving one small soft whimper. Well, she guessed it might not have been a cry of pain at all, she was so very close now, the soft curve of one breast pressed tantalizingly close to his arm. She sometimes enjoyed this power, of holding a guy in suspense. She was no tease, however, she had every intent of giving Kyle exactly what he thought he might get. A reward for letting her do this to him. One they would both enjoy.
Grace knew that once Kyle was pierced she would have to hurry. Healers were best pierced with a gun that loaded the stud in at the same time but she had no such luxury here. Quick as a wink she pressed the stud into the hole she had made, having to press quite hard, the hole had almost closed that quickly.
"There," she said, pleased with her work. "Now you look great. You've done honor to your lion."
Kyle could hardly contain himself. She had been so close and then for one second, he had smelled his own blood from the hole she had made. He hadn't felt the pain, not even when she had been forced to jam the stud through his rapidly closing flesh. He had smelled more than just the blood of course, he could smell that the closer she had come to him the more she had wanted him. He could hardly keep himself from trembling at the thought of her.
It was more than he could stand and he boldly grasped at her, giving her a kiss no less sloppy than the one they had shared only days ago. She laughed a bit at his fire, happy to share it, but that joy didn't last. Being more lion than man, his clumsy human kisses quickly turned into feral bites, his clawed hands ripping at her clothes. He was on her fast, pushing her down on to her back and pinning her down with his body in a move so swift, she had no time to react. She had no idea he was capable of such violence. He had always been so gentle as they had kissed and groped. This was wholly unexpected.
"Kyle, wait!" she gasped, taken completely by surprise. She had no idea he would be this violent when so aroused. She batted uselessly against him with her fists, not realizing how hard and strong his lean body actually was. He had always seemed frail and weak to her but he was far from it. "We can do this, but don't hurt me!"
Her struggling only excited him further. He slashed at her clothes, ripping them open and scratching her belly, raising more blood. He ground his pelvis against her and she could feel how hard he was. To her horror, she felt his large teeth graze her neck.
Poor Grace, there was much she hadn't known. If she had, she would have thought twice about the recklessness of bringing Kyle to such an isolated place. If Remy had been aware of just what she had been up to, he would have told her that she couldn't have been any more unwise. Kyle had a long dark history, one that was locked away in files that none of the kids had access to. Some things were just too confidential to have out in the open, Remy didn't want the kids to be so fearful of Kyle that they would never trust him. He had hoped that having Kyle under constant supervision would keep the boy out of trouble. There was good reason for caution – Kyle not only had committed both murder and cannibalism, he also had a long history of violent rape, something it would have done poor Grace good to have known.
Grace liked Kyle a great deal, yes, and had wanted intimacy, but not rape. Cristof, though wild, had been a good and careful lover. He hadn't lost control on her like this, not even once. Grace had made an incorrect assumption that since both men were ferals, they would react and behave the same way when intimate with someone they cared about.
She should have known better about Kyle though, he was justifiably kept in prison after all and his personality was different from Cristof's, more wounded and damaged. She should have been better prepared but she had wanted this too badly and her fun loving impulses had won over her better sensibilities. She tried to protest further, but Kyle's heavy clawed hand clamped down on her throat choking her air. His talons pricked her skin again, digging in painfully. Enough was enough.
Grace had had plenty of time over the past months both on the streets and here, training with the Red Team, to learn as much as she could about her mutant abilities. She could not only shift at will between goat and human, but with enough concentration, could perform a partial shift if that was all that was needed. Well, she needed to now. Left with no choice, she shifted most of her upper body into goat form and rammed Kyle hard, shoving him away with great force, letting him get the full impact of her horns.
Grace's training paid off in spades. Kyle went flying backwards hard onto a metal shelving unit stacked with bottles of cleaner and soaps. The noise was as loud as the mess he made but it got the job done. It was painful but knocked some sense into him.
Kyle struggled clumsily up and out of the pile the avalanche of cleaning supplies had made with a startled grunt, confused by the half human, half animal he now saw in front of him. He made that squint of confusion again, but so far made no attempt to retaliate. She hadn't pissed him off enough for him to attack her back which was a good thing. This could have been a whole lot worse.
Seeing that Kyle was confused and not enraged, Grace shifted fully back into human form so he could recognize her face. She was hoping it would calm him down and make him realize that he had been too rough.
He did recognize her but failed to comprehend why she had done what she had. Instead he felt instantly betrayed. Was she just teasing him? Toying with him? Enraged now and in pain, he took a half crouched step forward, fangs in full view and a growl in his throat.
Remembering enough of her feral training, Grace knew she had to dominate him now or she would never be able to salvage this. She saw him come and boldly came met his advance, raising her hand as she snarled, "Back the fuck off, mister!"
It was a risk challenging him. He might lunge for her again, he was clearly still sexually excited even though he had been so violently tossed, but then she saw his face crumple as his eyes roamed over her, finally seeing what he had done. Her clothes were all ripped up, blood was oozing down her neck where bruises were already forming, her eyes wet with tears she was trying so hard to fight. Grace saw the look of devastation on his face, his shock and horror and utter remorse for what he had done and it nearly broke her heart. She called out to him but he burst from the closet, unable to look at her.