Hey readers. Thanks so much for the feedback on the last chapter—especially to RogueNya, Bdbelley, and Carlisle'sCoven, who all left great reviews for Chapter 5. You guys are the best.

This chapter isn't nearly as good as I would've liked it to have been; it jumps around a lot, just so you all can get an idea of what everyone is doing. I was too lazy to write a descriptive fight scene in this one, so expect more action in upcoming chapters.

Thanks for all your support. Please review!

Chapter Six:

It was dark, save for the sole dimly-lit lamp that hung above her head.

Her surroundings were a blur; shadows scattered her vision, casting themselves about the cold room where she sat. She felt an ache in her neck as she took notice of her position in a metal chair—her arms were restrained behind it, pinned down by something strong and foreign. Her legs were adjusted in the same manner, only in front of the chair, her knees so close together that it almost hurt.

The freezing temperature here was unbearable; she wished for something warm—a jacket sounded nice. A snug, form-fitting jacket, like the one she vaguely remembered seeing on a woman sometime before. She tried her hardest to remember exactly where she had seen this woman, but her mind was blank.

She lifted her head up. Where was she? How did she get here? Who was she?

And why the hell was it so cold?

An awkward feeling intruded the woman's body then, beginning at her feet and working itself upward, spreading itself further—manifesting her body in mere seconds. It wasn't painful. . . No, it almost tickled as she felt her anatomy contorting itself, feeling the roots on her head produce a full head of thick, gorgeous blonde hair. It fell on either side of her face in bountiful curls.

Her ears weren't so cold anymore. Her legs followed suit; in fact, the temperature seemed to have changed dramatically. The goose-bumps that previously covered her body seemed to have vanished—or maybe they had just been covered up. She now noticed jeans covering her thighs, and felt the woolly texture of a sweater against her torso. The jacket she had remembered was now fastened around her, hugging her close. Somehow her arms were covered, too, and she felt her formerly bare feet protected by the comfort of socks and shoes.

"Mystique."

She jumped then, startled, and felt her body snap back into its original form. Gone were the blonde curls and the comfy jacket—she sat, again, in her naked form. The chill of the room invaded her once more. In an instant the blonde human girl that she had remembered was replaced with the strange blue creature with the mysterious yellow eyes.

"Mystique," called the voice again, "who did this to you?"

Though the voice emitted a concerned tone, the woman in the chair was still unaware of its origin. She looked around for its source curiously, feeling no reason to fear it . . . yet.

"Mystique," it came again, this time more cross than before, "answer me."

"I don't—I don't know. . ." she answered honestly, trailing off; her throat felt scratchy and dry.

A dark figure emerged from the shadows, its face partially hidden behind an odd-looking helmet. A long, dark cloak covered its form. From the broadness of the silhouette's shoulders and the authoritative masculinity prominent in its voice, Mystique knew that it was a man.

"You don't remember who I am, do you?" he asked, concerned.

"I don't remember anything." Mystique said flatly.

"Well, for one thing, your name is Raven Darkhölme—however, I prefer to call you Mystique." the voice explained kindly. "My name is Eric; I'm your friend, dear."

He walked closer until Mystique could distinguish his facial features; he was an older man, that much was certain, even behind the mask. He smiled an age-old smile, a friendly one. She felt safe in his presence, but was still unsure as to why she was restrained to the chair.

"Mystique?" she questioned. She distantly focused her eyes on the scaly blue skin that covered her body, trying to understand why anyone would want to call someone such a strange name. Then again, she also wondered exactly why she was covered in a mass of blue scales. "What's—what's wrong with me?"

Eric walked closer and stroked her face with his gloved hand delicately; it was a fatherly gesture, a gesture of kindness. "Nothing is wrong with you, my dear, other than the fact that your memory has been stolen and you were almost killed." He chuckled.

Mystique smiled back. He obviously meant well.

"I'm going to help you regain your memory," Eric added. "You're a mutant, Mystique—you have very special gifts. They'll enable you to gain your memory back."

"How so?"

"Simple."

*

Renesmee looked up at Mystique as she pulled away from the memory. They sat beside one another in a dark limousine as it drove down a deserted highway; she had briefly wondered if the two of them would ever reach their destination before accidentally being sucked into the vision in Mystique's mind. She pulled her hand away from where it lay in Mystique's, a bit taken aback by the onslaught of information that now crowded her mind.

"Is he part of the Volturi?" Renesmee asked worriedly, remembering the dark-cloaked figures that had visited her family once upon a time; the thought caused her to shudder.

"No," Mystique answered quietly. "I don't think the Volturi would befriend someone like me, do you?" She smirked.

"I suppose not." Nessie sighed. "Is he the one who sent you to find me?"

"Not entirely," Mystique replied honestly, "merely the one who prompted me to."

"Why?"

"You ask a lot of questions."

"I don't understand why you need me here; couldn't you have just changed yourself to look like me?" Renesmee pressed.

"Perhaps," Mystique said, "but you're a very special little girl. You'll need to help me like you did earlier."

Nessie pouted. "I'm not sure if I like helping you—I just want to go home."

"There won't be a home for you to go back to if you don't help me," Mystique explained crossly.

"What do you mean? Where is my family?" Renesmee felt herself beginning to panic.

Mystique looked down at Renesmee, her serpent-like eyes hard and severe. "You must have patience—I assure you that your family will be fine, so long as you do as you're told. Understand?"

"Yes," Renesmee answered reluctantly. The majority of their conversations tonight had ended this way.

"Good."

Muffled city lights attempted to break through the limousine's tinted glass windows as it was introduced to Seattle's busy streets. The black velvet sky was challenged by the brightness of the tall buildings erecting from the earth. Renesmee remembered Jacob promising to bring her to Seattle recently—it was an exciting thought, considering Forks had gotten incredibly bland—but it brought tears to her eyes now.

"We're almost there," Mystique said gently, but Renesmee ignored her.

She could only think of Jacob, and how happy he would have been to see Seattle himself.

*-*-*-*

"Alright, so what if I smashed two Jeeps on either side of a forty-five pound bar? How many reps?"

"Too easy; I'd do however many you'd like."

"I don't believe you, Tin Man."

"I'll prove it if you want—"

"Would both of you just shut up?"

Emmett turned to Rosalie who sat next to him in the booth. He tried massaging her shoulder, but she shook it off, annoyed.

"I still don't see why we're here, Emmett." Rosalie scoffed, fiddling with the glass of water that she had ordered—merely a prop, as always.

"Hey, these guys gotta eat, too." Emmett replied comfortingly, gesturing to Colossus and Rogue who sat on the opposite side of the table.

The group of supernatural beings looked incredibly out of place compared to the quiet, homey setting of the iHop restaurant they sat at. Rosalie's eminent beauty contrasted with the utterly simple women of Port Angeles while the girth of Emmett and Colossus challenged the sturdiness of the wooden booth. Though Rogue was the most human-looking one, the ferocity in her eyes warned the other restaurant attendants to avoid the table entirely.

"I don't see why," Rosalie continued, rolling her eyes. "I mean, the metal-head looks like he only drinks protein shakes, and a few more short stacks and ol' thunder thighs over there will be popping out of her jumpsuit."

"I beg your pardon?" Rogue snapped, sliding off her glove. She reached out for Rosalie's bare arm, but Colossus caught her jacketed wrist before their skin made contact.

Rosalie looked down at Rogue's hand and rolled her eyes.

"We didn't complain while you two went and mauled a bear outside of town," Rogue said dryly.

"Oh, I'm sure you would have liked it as an appetizer, had you the opportunity. Forgive me for not sharing." Rose crossed her arms, her eyes viciously burning into Rogue's.

"Calm down, babe." Emmett interceded, stroking Rose's porcelain cheek. "I know you're worried about Nessie—we all are. But we're gonna find her; everything will be fine."

"You better hope that you're right," Rosalie replied angrily. She stared out of the window to her right and into the dark forests that surrounded Port Angeles. "If not, I'll be venting all of my frustrations out on you—and her, too, if she's still around."

Rogue lifted her middle finger in response.

"That sounds like a reward rather than a consequence," chuckled Emmett, nuzzling the back of Rosalie's head. She smiled slightly, thankful that her mate was able to make the best of any situation. It still didn't relish the fact that she was so close to losing her dear niece—the closest thing to her own child that she would ever have.

"I just don't see why we couldn't have handled it ourselves," she sighed. She bitterly looked up at Colossus and Rogue, adding, "It's not like these idiots are helping."

"You know, I'm just about sick of you, Goldilocks. Without us and the rest of our team, you wouldn't know where to start." Rogue growled.

"It's because of you and the rest of your team that we're in this mess."

"Please," Colossus cried out, giving both women a pleading look, "not another argument. I've had enough for one night."

"Agreed," Emmett approved, squeezing Rose's thigh under the table. "Besides, we don't want to bring any more attention to ourselves than we already have."

Rosalie didn't mind the numerous stares that she attracted, but she now noticed exactly how many people were staring in their direction; she found it rather peculiar that the restaurant had seemed to multiply in the number of teenage boys sitting at each table and booth since the group had arrived.

"Tell her," Rose added after a minute, still fervently irritated with Rogue. "She started it."

"I did not—"

A piecing shrill sounded through the establishment, cutting Rogue off. Startled, she immediately searched herself for her communicator. The sound countered the group's efforts to remain incognito as it gained a handful of more attention.

Finally unlatching the device from its X-shaped holster at her waist, Rogue held it up for Colossus to see—a flashing red dot appeared on a grid of green intersecting lines, and the coordinates were displayed below it.

"Someone's in trouble," Colossus realized aloud, retrieving his own communicator as it sounded. He and Rogue shuffled out of the booth, motioning for Emmett and Rosalie to join them.

"We have to hurry!" Rogue called as they fled the restaurant.

"Finally," Emmett said with a smile as he helped Rose out of her seat. "I've been aching for some action!"

*-*-*-*

"Professor, I've picked up Wolverine's coordinates," Storm called out from her place at the cockpit. Kitty sat beside her, adjusting a number of the Blackbird's controls that had it shifting its course. "He's activated his tracking signal—our scanner has detected three unknown energy signals along with him. They're all substantially great."

"One is Jacob," Bella said worriedly.

"And the other two?" Edward directed his question to the Professor, who still sat across from the Cullens, lost in thought.

"I'm not sure," he replied stoically, still sifting through his mind. "When Cerebro noticed your daughter's energy levels, it also located two more—I'm fairly certain that they're the same ones, which means that we need to reach Wolverine as soon as possible."

"In that case, I would advise that everyone brace themselves," Stormed ordered from the front. After correcting a few more controls on the panel of buttons before her, she slammed the plane forward as fast as it would go.

Bella dug her nails into Edward's forearms as she felt herself lung back into her seat.

"We'll be arriving shortly," Kitty giggled, looking back at the three vampires who each grasped their seats tightly, as if in fear of losing their lives—again.

*-*-*-*

"Behind you!"

Wolverine turned too late and met a concrete fist against his cheek. The blow was deafening, sending him flying backward onto the forest floor.

"Ouch," he sighed, retracting his claws.

Jacob, recovering from a blow that had hit him so hard it caused him to revert back into his human form, sprinted forward and leapt into the air—there was a ripping noise as he phased back into his wolf. He galloped to Wolverine's side and nudged him to get up.

"Yeah, yeah, bub. Gimme a sec." Wolverine huffed, allowing for a few more cuts along his face to stitch themselves up.

Intensity exuberated around the forest like a thin smoke; the trees seemed to swelter as the heat of battle ignited them subtly. Jacob and Wolverine held their own against their seemingly invisible challengers; the shapes were so fast, so incomprehensibly cunning that neither of them had yet to be seen. Most of the time Jacob had no idea where he was attacking, he was merely intent on executing. Wolverine was just as blind—only their keen sense of smell allowed for them to locate their adversaries and attempt to defeat them.

They had little success; Jacob had taken a hit so hard that it felt like thunder—another time his body was shocked and numbed, as if struck by lightning. Tolerance was something that Wolverine had little of, and his impatience had him on the ground more times tonight than he would have liked to admit.

In short, they were losing—and Jake was beginning to get nervous.

The bitterly sweet scent of their attackers weaved through the air and into Jake's nostrils. He snorted and growled, planting his paws firmly in the dirt. They were near.

Wolverine stood upright once more and extended his claws—snikt.

But rather than another onslaught of kicks, punches, and overwhelming, thunderous hits, the sound of footsteps was heard. Quiet, soft footsteps that got closer with each stride. As if to supply a natural spotlight, the moon hung high overhead, its rays beaming into a sole crevice in the forest's coat of tall trees. The footsteps halted there, and two beautiful creatures emerged from the shadows.

*-*-*-*

The building was brilliantly lit and numbingly cold.

Renesmee noticed nothing peculiar about the inside rather than the white-on-white walls and lighting—something that Esme surely would have disapproved of. She sighed again; she missed her grandmother. She missed everyone.

Mystique walked beside her down the long corridor in the form of an Asian woman with glasses and a clipboard. She wore a white lab coat and strikingly tall heels—Renesmee felt that her Aunt Rosalie might have worn them if she didn't own them already.

"I apologize if you're frightened by anything that occurs here," Mystique said as they reached the end of the long hallway.

Renesmee looked worried. "You're going to hurt people again, aren't you?"

"Unfortunately."

The duo reached a pair of tall, sliding doors. It was impossible to see through them to the other side—not that Renesmee was interested in seeing what was on the other side in the first place. Her only hope was that the people through those doors would leave here alive.

Mystique reached up to the electronic keypad to the right of the massive doors. She pressed her palm to the scanner and the device falsely recognized her as a woman named Rebecca Chung.

"Welcome, Rebecca." greeted a robotic voice as the doors slid open.

Mystique smiled, walking inside. Nessie followed.

They stood in a vast foyer now; it was absent of anyone save for one woman sitting behind a tall white counter at the back of the room. As Mystique and Renesmee reached the counter, Nessie regrettably realized that it was the real Rebecca Chung sitting at the desk behind it.

She looked identical to Mystique—her glasses and up-do hairstyle were mirrored exactly. Nessie concluded that Rebecca Chung was probably a very nice woman—perhaps she had a family and a dog. She also felt an awful feeling in her stomach as she guessed that Rebecca wouldn't be able to see her family or dog ever again.

"If you don't have an appointment, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave. Unfortunately, all of our early-morning appointments are booked. Please feel free to call before your next visit." Rebecca recited mechanically, hearing Mystique and Renesmee approach; she didn't bother to look up from the computer at her desk.

"I don't need an appointment; I'm here to speak to Silas on a personal errand."

Rebecca looked up now, evidently recognizing her own voice.

"Who—"

Renesmee looked away as Mystique jabbed her pointed hand into Rebecca's throat, breaking her windpipe instantly. She fell limply onto the ground, grasping her throat. Mystique then proceeded to hop over the counter, sifting through the computer's files expertly. She disabled the cameras with the slightest of ease before locating the whereabouts of the person she was looking for.

"Top floor—figures." Mystique grinned, still speaking in Rebecca's voice. Renesmee could guess that she had done this kind of thing before.

Still smiling, Mystique led Nessie further into the building—she noted how it looked incredibly similar to a hospital. In fact, she realized that this was a hospital, or at least was made to look like one. There were a number of operating rooms and strange doors that read things like 'Genetics Lab' on the front. The worst part was that this was merely the first floor—Renesmee dreaded seeing what awaited them at the top.

The elevators, like the rest of the phony hospital building, were distastefully bland; white-on-white, white-on-white. Renesmee stood with her tiny back against the wall, watching the floor buttons highlight as they ascended. When the light reached its finally destination—Floor 16—was when the elevator came to a halt.

As the metal doors parted for Mystique and Renesmee, a mass of bullets was there to greet them.

*-*-*-*

Sorry to cut it off so soon again, but I was in a rush to finish this chapter before I leave to visit my grandma. I won't have access to anything over where she lives, so please be sure to leave me some feedback to look forward to when I get back. Thanks so much!