AN: This is the one and only chapter written from Hank McCoy's POV. I hope I did well, enjoy!

Hank surveyed the area around him and the bodies that were accounted for. Wolfsbane was sitting up against one of the structure cells with Jean talking to her quietly; Rogue and Gambit were over in the corner as he held her up; Shadowcat was sitting in front of Avalanche off to the side in silence; and Kitchie was sitting with his head in his hands sobbing. Even Blackout had managed to find Gabriel and Noah and the three were out of sight but somewhere close by. More people had been rescued as well and were sitting around here and there, but the X-Men were still missing two people, not counting Ink and Quinn who had run off: WeaponMaster and his Hack.

Hack…

He growled and landed a punch against one of the structures, which caused a dent in the slightly softer than concrete material. He had run around searching for her but he didn't know how far the cells went back.

A growl ripped its way up his throat as he turned around and started towards a back section he hadn't searched yet. God damn him for standing around while she could be hurt somewhere. He leapt up onto one of the cells and stood, smelling the air for her flowery and coffee scent. He paused and turned his head to the left. There. Somewhere over there.

He started off again towards her direction, anger swelling in his chest. He didn't care what the Professor said, that Jane Kelley was not going to get away from this without a couple hits from him. From most of the people here actually. And they could all probably make it look like an accident…

He stopped and looked at the cell that he stood on. Quiet but clear whimpers came from it and he jumped down in front of the door. His anger faded into the background and worry sprung forward.

"Natasha?" he whispered, resting a hand on the cell. "Natasha."

Another whimper came from the corner of the cell. "H-Hank?"

Without a word he ripped the barred door from its hinges and stepped inside.

"C-Care-" Another whimper cut her off. "-ful. There's blood on-" This time it was a small scream. "-the floor." Her voice was weak. He bent down beside her and helped her sit up. His one hand supported her while the other touched the collar. Blackout and Ink had been able to get the other ones off with her blasts and his sword but the owners had still received a single shock before they were off and the pair had suffered some shocks and burns to their hands. Hank didn't want to wait though, he wanted to rip Natasha's off her neck this instance and stop the torture that she was in.

Another scream passed her lips and he kissed her forehead. "You're safe," he told her. He helped her to stand and she crumpled against him, grabbing onto his uniform.

"She-She took the students," she managed to say.

"I know. They're safe now. Everyone's safe."

She groaned and leaned into him more. "Grazie a Dio…" Another whimper met Hank's ears and he hissed. "Let's get you back to the others," he said. "We can get this damn torture device off of you." He led her out of the cell and in the light he saw the dried blood on her cheek and around her nose. Her left pupil was dilated due to the raging headache that must have been plaguing her. These symptoms of her mental abuse made the anger resurface, but he held it back, not wanting to harm his fiancé.

"Cagna che sta andando a pagare," Natasha whispered, venom leaking into her voice. "Non permetteró che il suo tocco gli studenti e vivere per documentare lo."

Hank nodded and held her close. He didn't fully understand the Italian she hissed in but he knew that she only used the exotic language when she was her angriest.

"Lei a le sue guardie. Ho intenzione di friggerle dall'interno verso l'esterno con le loro cuffie proprio."

A smile found it's way to Hank's lips but then she clutched even tighter to his shirt as another scream tore from her throat. That was the last straw. He picked her up bridal style, holding her close to him as he ran back to the group.

AN: Translation of Natasha Dugan's Italian: 1) Thank God 2) That bitch is going to pay 3) I will not let her touch the students and live to document it 4) Her and her guards. I am going to fry them from the inside out with their own headsets (whether or not this is actually possible, you say things when you're angry and hurt...)