Author's notes – Thanks everyone for checking out my latest efforts (especially you, Liz!). I know the first chapter was short so here's a little more.
(Two)
Gambit came awake with a startled snort. His sleep hadn't been much better than Logan's. It was the snow, you see. The cold brought back so many memories that he would much rather forget. It never failed – the crunch of rock hard snow under his feet, the way the frosty air froze the delicate hairs of his nose - and he was there, back in Antarctica, freezing his damn ass off. No matter where he was whenever a first wave of cold would hit him, it always forced him to compare - was this as bad as that had been? As if anything could be. It would bring on a brief but sickening twinge of fear, the same way a man who had once drowned might shiver at the first plunge into the water. It didn't stop Remy from going out into the cold, but he could never forget being abandoned there. When Charles Xavier had talked him into coming out here to the cabin he had no real idea of just what he had asked of him.
Remy sat up in his bed, momentarily confused as to where he was. The weight of his extra blankets reminded him and he shivered there a moment wondering just what it was that Charles had expected him to do out here. After two days and nights Logan still hadn't even so much as hinted at what was troubling him. Perhaps the time for skipping the questions had passed and he should just approach the man directly instead.
Time for that later, it was still a bit dark out at the moment and now, with the cold hitting him, he really needed to pee. He shuffled off to the bathroom, did his business, and was heading bleerily back to bed when he realized that the back door was open. Yeah, the Siskans had left for bed late, but Remy had seen to it that the door had been shut nice and tight before he himself had gone off to his own rest. So why was it open now? Maybe Logan had been restless and decided to go outside for a smoke.
There was shift in the wind and a not so wonderful icy breeze nudged the door a little. Remy shivered hard, grumbling about inconsiderate, grumpy, hairy men and went to close it. The moment his hand touched the handle, the breeze once more crept in, causing a paper on the table to rustle. Remy's head turned at the sound of it and he squinted, seeing a note there, pinned down by one of Logan's last remaining soup cans.
"Don't even tell me..." Remy complained out loud to the empty room. It would be just like Logan to just take off after Remy had wasted two whole days here getting nowhere. His irritation changed to bewilderment as he read what was written there in Logan's jagged scrawl – "Are ya bored yet, boys? Me, too. How about a game? It's called 'Catch me if you can.' Go and get the kids. Call it a drill if ya want, but it'll be fun just the same. I'll try not to make it too hard for ya. - Logan."
"De 'ell?" Remy again questioned to the now empty cabin. "Dis fo' real?"
Looking out the back door, he could now see the dark shadows of footprints leading out into the trees that he had overlooked before. There had been no new snow overnight, the tracks were as crisp as when they were first made. Remy just stared at them, his own bare feet growing uncomfortably colder by the second. Was it unusual for Logan to want to drill the squad kids? Not really. Had Gambit asked him for help a great many times? Absolutely. So why were all of his alarm bells going off? Was he just being paranoid?
"Humph, paranoid or non," he grumbled to himself, "It don't 'urt to bring de kids out, just fo' a look around."
He went back to his room and dressed quickly. He left the cabin as it was and stomped through the snow to the Dragon 2. The craft itself wasn't that large and fit comfortably in Logan's good sized backyard. It was comparable to a generous Lear jet and had been designed for transport and rescue. It hadn't been weaponized beyond having a tow cable and some grappling type hooks installed. Logan had grumbled about it needing a Gatling gun or two but Remy had so far resisted, thinking that was counter to the craft's purpose.
Remy entered the ship, not surprised to find the inside pleasantly warm and comfortable. While the Siskans didn't mind the occasional romp in the snow, they shared his dislike for the constant cold. The Dragon 2 was mainly for transport so it wasn't all that large - it consisted of a single large cabin with a short row of comfortable, plushy passenger seats in the back. Behind that wall was a small lavatory. The front wall of the room was taken up by a huge viewing screen, not unlike a giant movie theater screen, that acted as a window while they flew but was also capable of giving them many different views around the outside of the craft. In the center of the room were two odd looking chairs that resembled racing motorcycles. These were the pilot seats and where Remy and Kimble worked side by side when they flew this magnificent machine. These chairs were adjustable to the extreme degree that they could even be slept on during a flight.
Kimble and Aiden had taken advantage of the cozy space in between the two pilot chairs and had spread out several sleeping bags in layers to make a snuggly, comfortable bed. At the moment Kimble was the only one in it, sprawled out on his belly in a beautiful pose, the blankets slipped low enough down his back that Remy could see he was naked. He was out cold and snoring softly, his shine full of sparkling happiness.
Belle was beside him, taking up the space that Aiden had vacated. She wagged her tail at him in greeting but was much too warm and comfortable to rise herself.
It wasn't unusual for Kimble to be in bed alone, he slept more than the rest of his Siskan kin and plenty more than Aiden who could get by on only just a couple of hours a night. Aiden, while absent from the bed, was still around and close by. The blonde Siskan came to the door of the lav, having heard Remy enter. The lav had no shower but it did have a sink. He leaned in the doorway, still wet from an improvised wash and was just as bare as Kimble was.
Because he wasn't wearing any clothes, Aiden's large Yellow Mark could now be easily seen. The Mark looked like a large elaborate tattoo, but since he wasn't organically alive, it was simply part of his skin and not real. His Mark was a golden colored, winged woman who lay seductively along the edge of a dark colored sword that ran from Aiden's collar bone down past his navel. It was beautifully made as if only freshly applied and covered most of Aiden's chest and belly. Each of the Siskans that the X-men now possessed had come from a single, specially Marked clutch and each one had the same tattoo although each had their own color. Aiden's was the golden yellow and Kimble's a dark purple.
At the moment, Marks were the last thing on Aiden's mind. Not the least bit shy about being caught nude, he grinned at the Thief now and took a pose against the doorjam, deliberately preening for the Cajun in a playful tease.
Remy smiled with some amusement but wasn't about to fall for it. While it was true that he had shared a few rounds of sexual play with more than one member of the small collection of Siskans that currently resided with the X-men, that had been before he had married and like Logan, had kids of his own. It didn't mean he didn't appreciate the view.
The Siskans had been created for pleasure, that was no secret, but the X-men had tried to integrate them into normal society as much as possible. All but two had married or were as good as married to their present owners, and had left that former life behind. Aiden was one of those who had married, yes, but he hadn't been so for very long. Aiden still found it hard not to flirt and tease when given an opportunity.
This was the first and only time in their long lives that both Kimble and Aiden had been monogamous and Remy was still somewhat dubious that they could pull it off in the long run. The Siskans in general hadn't been made for it so it was something of an adjustment. So far, though, they had been keeping it together well enough. Kimble wasn't jealous of his playful husband's flirtations, instead he most often found it funny and could have cared less about it. He was Siskan himself and understood these things very well, but it was something that drove Logan nearly mad. Wolverine had no patience for anyone with a such a lack of sexual modesty and it was the biggest reason that he never fully trusted Aiden even as he had grown to respect him in the field. He was too unpredictable.
Remy had grown numb to it all and wasn't the least bit fazed by anything Aiden had done in the past or even by what he was currently doing now. The fact was the Thief had spent so much time in the company of these complex, maddening, and oh so wonderful creatures that he was just plain used to this sort of thing. At times, because he had bonded so closely with Kimble, Remy actually considered himself more Siskan than human these days. Dealing with their peculiarities was simply business as usual for him and his voice was light with humor as he said, "De'sole, no time to play, mon ami. We gotta get Kim up and go."
Aiden just chuckled and still feeling just a bit rebellious, shifted skins. Where there had once been a man, there was now one of the most breathtakingly beautiful brunettes Remy had ever seen. She was just as naked as the man had been and her skin glistened tantalizingly with droplets of water that hadn't quite dried yet. Remy shivered at the sight of this more appropriate skin, he couldn't help it. He was still a man after all. The skin was not new to Gambit, it was the one Aiden had used to seduce him a great many years ago when they had first met.
As was mentioned before, most of the Siskans the X-men possessed had seen hard times. Aiden was one of the lucky ones who could still change his appearance, though he did it very rarely. They couldn't look like just anybody as some shape shifters did, but could only use whatever skins they had loaded into their memory drives. The last Remy knew, Aiden had several skins, but he most often wore the pretty blonde male one. Full of Siskan pride, Aiden demanded of most folks that he be accepted just as he was. Since the Siskans had been man made and their skins chosen by others, they were in fact genderless, something that many people still had a hard time grasping. Remy had long since given up trying to make that point to others but Aiden sometimes still liked to push it, it was just part of his nature and not something that was going to change any time soon Remy could see.
"I mean it, cher," Remy chided, though his eyes never left her face. He hadn't been able to resist Aiden back when they had met but that had been a long time ago. He knew that this was just Aiden playing around now just because he could. It wasn't a serious flirtation. "We got no time fo' games. Sumptin's up wit Logan."
"What now, eh? 'E trip over 'isz laszt bottle?" Aiden joked, still not quite grasping the seriousness of this. He did at least give up on his little game without a fuss and shifted back into his regular skin before reaching for a towel, his hair was still wet.
"Don' know, just dat sumptin' ain't right. 'E leave dis."
Aiden came out of the lav, his pants over one shoulder, and took the note Gambit was now holding out. He read it and with a soft frown of confusion, glanced up at his Captain. "Disz juszt a note, eh? 'E wish to play a game. Mebbe it make 'im feel better, non?"
"Since when did Logan ever play at anyt'ing?" Remy challenged gently. This was quite serious, he just knew it, and his instincts were seldom wrong.
Aiden couldn't help but smile just a little as he cautiously replied, "Mebbe it been szo long szince we been out in ze field, you szee szumptin' dat isz not zere, eh?"
"Could be true," Remy admitted, smiling himself in return. Aiden was like this, direct and to the point when it counted. He wasn't afraid to speak his mind, not when it was important. It didn't make Remy change his mind however. "But lets keep our 'eads up, just in case."
His tone gave Aiden pause. He pulled on his pants, his shine swirling with color as he tried to figure out the best way to respond. He couldn't argue with his Captain's logic. It was always better to be safe than sorry. "You want me to call back 'ome? Wake up ze kidsz?"
"Oui. Tell dem dat it's first come first serve. De ones ready when we get dere de only ones who get to play. Dat'll get dem movin'. We gotta get back 'ere before de trail get too cold."
"Aye," Aiden replied, all business now. He reached for his phone and began texting a special code that would send an activation message back home. They could be landing there in as little as thirty minutes so the kids would have to make this snappy if they wanted in on it.
Remy meanwhile stood next to Kimble and gently toed him with his boot. "Rise and shine, sleepy'ead. We gotta go."
Kimble groaned in protest and turned his head away. While Aiden had showed no effects of the little drinking party the trio had shared last night, Kimble had drunk enough to still be a bit intoxicated. He could have easily slept for another couple of hours. "Lemmie 'lone..." he slurred into his pillow and stayed as he was. Being drunk, his normal redneck drawl was even more exaggerated as usual. Most of the Siskans the X-men had collected from this strange, Marked clutch spoke with this same accent. Only Aiden and Seth were excluded – Aiden from being damaged, Seth because he was a living, separated fragment of Kimble's own original programmed personality. The drawl Kimble spoke with was somewhat disarming, it often made him appear less intelligent than he really was. Kimble was gentle and sweet, but he was far from stupid.
Gambit would have loved to have let Kimble sleep but he needed Kimble to fly and they had lost too much time already. He had no idea just how long Logan had been gone. He bent and whipped off the last of Kimble's blankets and pushed his shoulder again, this time a little less gently. "No foolin', Kim. Git yo' ass up. We gotta roll."
Kimble grumbled again but he got moving. He was sluggish and slow, not quite steady when he finally made it to his feet. He jumped a bit when Remy reached over to the nearest pilot chair and gave one of the handles a quick, sharp charge of kinetic energy. This was called 'boosting', the charge was just enough to boot up the engines and get the craft warmed up.
Kimble stumbled into his own seat more than actually sitting down into it and went through the opening procedures, still rubbing his eyes. While he did that Remy glanced at Aiden, an idea having crossed his mind.
"Aiden?"
"Aye, Captain?"
"Mebbe you should stay behind, keep an eye on t'ings til we get back."
"My pleaszure," Aiden agreed, easy to please. He grabbed his heavy jacket and an Away Pack from one of the cubbies. The pack had a change of clothing, a camera, some cold rations, a flashlight, matches, the usual camping type gear just in case a person might get stranded. Use of the pack was always standard procedure anytime something wasn't quite right. In theory he probably wouldn't even have need of it.
"This that serious?" Kimble asked softly, his awakening eyes showing the first flickers of anxiety.
"It not'ing," Aiden soothed and gave Kimble's cheek a kiss. He lay Kimble's pants in his lap before he made for the door, a wordless reminder that the pilot was still undressed.
"You can look around a bit," Remy said before Aiden made it all the way out. "But don't go too far, sil vous plait? Don' need to be lookin' fo' two of you instead of just de one, eh?"
Aiden just flashed him a winning smile. "Don' worry about a t'ing."
Aiden went out the door and it was just Remy and Kimble alone in the ship. Kimble was more awake now, his concern had made him so, and once he had dressed they were on their way back to Arizona.
(Break)
The Dragon 2 touched down on the runway, neat as you please, a mere thirty minutes after Remy had toed Kimble awake. The X-men's current home was a large three story glass and stone professional building smack in the middle of an Arizona industrial complex out in the desert. Charles Xavier had wanted as much privacy as he could manage and so had bought up all the surrounding buildings as well, making them appear to be fully functioning work sites. The buildings were only a front - deep under the ground was a complicated maze of tunnels and housing blocks that connected them all, a buried city if you will.
It had been the plan that this would be a secure site to keep a large mutant community out of the firing range of government agencies that wanted them all to register and from anti-mutant hate groups who wished them harm. It hadn't gone as well as planned – after they had been besieged by the powerful terrorist, Jael, they were no longer secret and not entirely safe though they had done their best to correct the many weaknesses that had left them so vulnerable.
Remy disembarked the ship quickly, taking Belle with him – a potential mission was no place for a dog - and was happy to see that a small group of sleepy eyed kids had mustered there to greet him. Remy had chosen all of his prospects carefully, labeling his bunch the so called "last chance" crew because so many of them had been rejected from other teams for various reasons. He had seen something in them that others hadn't. He had fully expected a number of them to have dropped out on their own, the training could at times be difficult, but so far that hadn't happened. That meant he still had a large number of recruits on hand and Remy was still in the process of whittling down the number. He was having a tough time choosing from amongst them, they had all worked so hard, harder than anyone else had expected them to, and he just didn't have the heart to eliminate any of them. At the moment he was in luck, less than half of his squad had actually responded to Aiden's texted scramble.
They were dressed in their new squad uniforms, all in black with pink pin-striping and patches. They were technically the Red Team, but the way the squads worked, the color darkened as they progressed through their training. Their markings were pink now because they were only newly formed and pretty green, all Level Ones, but it would be magenta next, working its way up to the dark crimson of the fully trained. Each kid also had their own Away Pack loaded with survival gear and they all had good thick jackets on in preparation for the cold weather. Aiden had been thoughtful and precise with his scramble, no one would have to go back for anything. The kids looked eager and happy, something a bit unexpected at this early hour. It seemed they were much better at getting up early than Remy was.
Up front was Malcolm, a big green skinned bruiser who fancied himself the most in charge. Remy had yet to pick a squad leader to be his Second as far as the kids went and it was no secret that Malcolm wanted that position all for himself. Malcolm was well muscled and strong but also suffered from a bit of a temper. He oftentimes got a bit ahead of himself and he stood proudly now, his chest out and doing his best to get Remy's full attention. He wanted to appear to be the most ready and the best prepared for this unexpected drill. On top of his big size, he was a bit furry and had a shaggy doggie tail to match. He had sharply pointed ears and his hair was a tad long, making him look much older than his seventeen years. His codename was Hercules because of his enhanced strength and size.
To Hercules' right stood a tall, pale, dark haired boy with a large, jagged scar that ruined one side of his face. His name was Dominic Slav, but they mostly called him TrueBlood around here, a nod to the popular TV series about vampires. Dominic did not possess super strength nor enhanced senses. He could neither shapeshift nor power ships with self generated energy. TrueBlood's gift was simple – you drink his blood, you would heal from any injury inflicted on you. Sadly, TrueBlood couldn't heal himself, the ugly scar on his face testified to that. He had been in a horrible rollover car accident and while trapped in his seat only half conscious, he had watched as his own blood dripped down into the mouth of his younger sister. He saw her heal before his very eyes, but yet he had walked away forever horribly disfigured. He was a bitter lad and solitary. He hadn't actively asked to join the squad, he had simply gone along with it once invited because all the squad kids got better quarters. He no longer had to share a room with anyone.
Beside TrueBlood and looking much smaller and rumpled in comparison was Tristan Rodgers. He had just turned twenty but he may as well have been fifteen because of his nerdy-ness and lack of build. It didn't help that his hair was bright red and his face generously peppered with bright auburn freckles. His talent was the ability to possess and control the minds of animals, so most folks simply called him Dewy as his codename, short for Dr. Doolittle.
On Dewy's shoulder was perched a very tiny girl not even two feet tall. Her name was Sheila Darwin and she was dressed all in black, a little Goth Barbie doll. She and Dewy were inseparable, perhaps because they both got ribbed the most on this squad. Malcolm was rather hard on his teammates, especially those whose talents he simply didn't understand. He couldn't fathom why Remy had selected either of them. It wasn't like they could fight or anything. Sheila's codename was Tink, short for Tinkerbell, on account of her small size. Tink, being so small, always traveled with Dewy in a special pocket he had outfitted on his Away Pack. It might have looked a bit odd but it worked, and Remy was pleased with it. It was the type of innovation and teamwork he was working so hard to get these kids to embrace.
In front of Dewy, hunched on the tarmac, was a young looking feral man, his long blonde hair loose with the tangles covering most of his face. This boy was far older than he looked - he had a healing factor comparable to Logan's and it had kept him youthful. Kyle Gibney was currently dressed in the team colors – though he wore a thick sleeveless vest instead of a full jacket. Like Logan, he wasn't as sensitive to the bitter cold. He was wearing the black and pink at the moment but he usually spent most of his time in the prisoner orange that marked most of the residents of the Complex's small jail and holding section. Unlike the others who had nice little rooms in a common dorm, Kyle's quarters were located there as he was being detained indefinitely and was on probation for violent behavior. At least he was doing better these days, so well that he was in fact on his way to earning a full release. He had clawed hands and a snouty face that housed his elongated canine teeth. His legs were crooked and bent like a cat, making him look even more like an animal in spite of the claws and fangs. He had the full gamut of enhanced senses – eyesight, hearing, smell. He was Remy's tracker and still feral enough that the Thief had given him the codename Ripclaw.
Behind him stood a pretty blonde girl. She looked normal in most respects except for two goat like horns that came out of her forehead. Her eyes were also slotted like a goat's but these things took away nothing from her natural beauty. This was Grace and she positively glowed. Her light came from an inner happiness that she simply couldn't contain. Of all the kids that Remy had on his squad, Grace was the most comfortable with her mutations and herself. She was what she teasingly called a weregoat because she could shapeshift easily back and forth between a goat and her more human appearance. She could also see in different spectrums of light, another asset. She was quick to joke and to share and so Remy had given her the codename Jester. Remy noted that today she was wearing a thin vanity scarf high around her throat. It wasn't regulation since they had been called to scramble in uniform but given the short notice he chose not to trouble her about it. Knowing her free spirit, he had an idea she might be hiding a hickey or two, but he wouldn't have had a clue who the lucky fellow might have been nor would he ask. He did his best to stay out of the personal lives of his kids, just getting them trained was trouble enough without adding that to the list.
Next to Grace stood another young man just as troubled as TrueBlood was. He was dark skinned and carried a perpetual frown on his face. His given name was Charlie Wilson but he refused to answer to it, only respecting those who called him Trigger. It was a name well earned on account of his hair trigger temper. He had been added to the squad at Logan's suggestion because his mutant ability was electrical in nature. He could make small lightning bolts and sparks. It was a little known fact, but the Siskans' primary weakness was that a big enough electrical charge could take them down rather easily. Logan had suggested that Remy keep such a sparkler around in case one of his Siskans flipped out and got out of control. Remy didn't like the idea of it but he understood the necessity of taking precautions and so had grudgingly complied with the request. Trigger was his walking control device.
Rounding out the girl section of the team were a couple of younger gals – young blonde Tilda could manipulate water, sustaining her own life by living in it if needs be. Beside her stood Izzie, a little dark purple skinned fairy girl with wings. Neither one was physically strong, but that wasn't all Remy looked for in his squad. Both of these gals were above average smart and balanced up for the more brawnier males.
Last but not least stood Julien Tanner, a young man apart. Julien was Remy's son, but they had only known about each other for less than a year. He was the child of a girl Remy had been intimate with only once and she had kept the resulting pregnancy a secret. Remy had been reunited with Julien six months ago or so when the X-men had run down a religious anti- mutant hate group run by a man named Jason Frost. Frost had been using mutant children as slave labor, slaves that had included Remy's estranged son. Also among those slaves were several of the kids currently in Remy's squad, but unlike them, Julien had been somewhat brainwashed by Jason Frost and had become Frost's assistant.
Frost had believed that all mutants were sinners - the more obvious the mutation, the more that poor kid must have sinned whether they admitted to it or not. It was a belief system that he had driven deeply into Julien's poor broken mind and one Julien still clung to to this day. As far as the other kids were concerned that made Julien as good as the enemy and he had been having a tough time of it here ever since the kids had been liberated. Remy had wanted him on the squad in the hopes that if Julien worked hard enough he might redeem himself in the eyes of his peers. So far not much had changed. Remy had tried to pick out some sort of codename for him but Malcolm had dubbed him 'Judas' and unfortunately it had stuck.
At the moment Julien looked battered and tired. He had inherited not only Gambit's ability to produce bio-kinetic energy, but also his slim build and high metabolism. Julien's childhood had been one of bitter abuse and neglect. In spite of the much improved care he was receiving now, he still struggled to gain weight and lose that haggard look of perpetual malnutrition. Julien and Remy didn't often see eye to eye, but Julien and Kimble were close enough that Kimble, who loved to cook, was always trying to get something into the lad. Today, though, Julien looked worse than usual and Remy wasn't sure if he wanted to know why. They had trouble enough with Logan's little stunt already.
Julien wasn't completely alone, standing beside him almost protectively was Molly, Remy's loving wife. She wasn't a member of any squad including this one but had come to greet her husband just the same. Molly was fair haired and had a pretty smile but she wasn't what you would call lovely. Part of that was due to the feral genes she had inherited as her mutation, leaving her somewhat hairy and with the same clawed hands and feet as Kyle had. They were not technically related, Molly and Kyle, but could still be confused as brother and sister at first glance. Remy couldn't have cared less what Molly looked like, it was her beautiful heart that had called to him and he had no plans of leaving.
Like him, she had wanted a family and just Remy's luck, today she brought along their young twins, Jean-Luc and Sandy. They were Remy's pride and joy and he was overjoyed to see them, he had missed them so. They had missed him too, he could read it in their bright loving shines as he gave each a loving kiss. They gurgled at him happily and kicked their feet in the big double stroller, their arms outstretched towards him.
Remy gave them each a great big hug and then embraced Molly eagerly. He hadn't realized just how much he had missed her until he had seen her and he didn't even try to hide it. Eight years of marriage hadn't dimmed his love for her in the slightest. She wasn't the loveliest girl in the Complex, but her shine was the most beautiful he had ever seen. It sparkled with a deep, heartfelt love for him, one that would never die. She wasn't without her passions, she was the daughter of Sabretooth, a vicious feral killer. He had the terrible habit of killing his offspring, should he happen to discover them. He had found Molly out and when she was only just a few years old he had slashed her throat, robbing her of her voice. She had survived the vicious mauling and had since learned how to sign with her hands, a gift she had passed on to the X-men. It was a tool they now used frequently on missions.
Gambit couldn't help but let Molly's embrace lead him into giving her a deep, passionate kiss, not even stopping when the squad kids began to joke and cheer at him, applauding his enthusiasm. Playing along, he opened his arms, hands out, to show he wasn't doing anything more than simply kiss the one he loved most. Her shine bled into his own, fueling his desire for her – she was good food, the most comfortable bed he had ever laid in, safety and home, the manifestation of everything decent that had ever happened to him in his turbulent life. The kids could joke all they wanted, but they would never know just how deep his empathic heart had taken her in with just that kiss.
Molly knew it of course and she was laughing a bit at his joy to see her, her breath now soft against his cheek as she broke it off, the first to move away. She would have loved to kiss him all day, but not in front of a crowd and a noisy one at that.
Julien didn't share his teammates' enthusiasm for his father's very public display of affection. He had been silent but had turned his head away at the kiss, his shine swirling with revulsion. His time spent with his mutant hating mentor had left its scars. It wasn't that he disliked Molly personally, it was that he had been trained to think that her obvious mutation was a sign of some terrible sin and that belief was still hard for him to shake. At least he was being quiet despite his unease, though he had been upset about something even before this.
Remy was trying his best not to give too much attention to him. Julien was his son yes, but he was also on the squad and Remy was wary of showing any favoritism or undue attention towards him. Julien made that fairly easy, the lad still had not warmed up to his biological father, not one bit, and they barely spoke to each other in spite of Remy's many attempts in private to draw the lad closer to him.
Remy nuzzled the ear of his lovely wife and asked her quietly, "Julien okay?"
He had a rough night, she signed carefully, keeping her hands out of full view. Jason Frost was murdered last night.
Gambit sighed with regret and leaned against her, wordlessly asking for her comfort. As much as Remy was his biological father, Julien had lived in thrall to Jason Frost for long enough that he considered Frost to be his true father figure. Ever since the X-men had come and shut him down, Frost had been incarcerated in a SHIELD prison, awaiting execution for his appalling crimes against mutants. He hadn't just taken mutant kids for his slaves, he had on occasion killed them when they didn't behave. Being a very religious man, Frost found many excuses for that sort of misbehavior and he'd had a decent sized graveyard to prove it.
Julien himself might have gone alongside his former slavemaster to jail as well, but he had been reluctantly persuaded to give up important evidence in exchange for being released into the X-men's protective custody. The fact that the boy had been denied a formal education for most of his life was a big help, it helped plead the case that the boy simply hadn't known any better. Jason Frost had taught the boy to read but not much else. Schoolbooks were not to be found in the slave camp. Both Julien's cruel stepfather and now this man had found it easier to keep the lad ignorant and while normally such a thing was a tragedy, in this case it had made it that much easier to keep him out of custody. It hadn't been difficult for the X-Men to plead that the boy's ignorance had made him particularly susceptible to Frost's coercions and SHIELD had agreed. Julien's heart wasn't fully into this show of repentance however, and the other kids knew it. It was the main reason he hadn't been fully accepted back into the fold.
When Frost had first been detained, it seemed as though his would be an open and shut case. The evidence against him was seemingly overwhelming. Trouble was, most of it had been collected in a "pocket world" or parallel dimension of sorts, a place called Twilight. In spite of a very competent SHIELD forensic team going to Twilight and collecting two huge tractor trailers worth of evidence, including the bodies of several deceased, abused mutants, the location of the crime was still a problem. There had been no legal precedent for this and so there had been some snags in the courtroom proceedings. There was talk that Frost might even have to be let go, no matter how many bodies of dead mutant kids had been dug up. Now it looked like someone else had been offended enough by that idea to take matters into their own hands. For all Remy knew, it might even have been the idea of SHIELD head Nick Fury himself. It wouldn't be the first time someone had been conveniently murdered in the SHIELD lockup when the legalities of things got a bit muddied up.
Sadly, Julien was probably going to be the only guy feeling the loss. Remy and those around Julien had been doing their best to "de-program" the boy and get him back on a more normal keel, but it was rough going. Sometimes it seemed like they were making progress, other times like he was fighting them tooth and nail all the way.
"Why don't y'all go on up de ship now, eh?" Remy said now to the kids, trying not to laugh when they stumbled over themselves in their hurry to get up the ramp. It was no great secret that the main perk of being on Remy's squad was the classy means of transportation. All the kids were quite taken with the Dragon 2 and were overjoyed any time they got to take her out for a spin.
Well, they were all eager today but Julien, that was. He lagged behind, his head down and his feet dragging along. Remy had wanted the kids gone so he could further question Molly about this situation without the others overhearing.
"Why didn't you call me?" Remy patiently asked Molly once the boy was out of sight. Although Molly couldn't actually speak, their apartment phone was outfitted with a key pad that spoke whatever she typed. She was also quite adept at using the text feature on their cell phone. Remy had made sure she was never without the means of communicating with him.
I found out late last night and didn't want to wake you, she replied honestly. She could see he was disappointed but he was trying to keep it from her. She didn't need to read shines to know what he was thinking, she had inherited her father's feral senses if not his healing factor. Certain moods had smells and she knew his by heart now. They aren't sure who was responsible for the murder but the guards had to be in on it. There will be an investigation. Anyway, Asher brought Julien over so he wouldn't have to hear the other kids cheering. They had quite a party when they heard the news.
Asher was another of the resident Siskans here and a good and caring friend. He had discovered Christianity and had taken it to heart, spending most of his time in the service of others. He stubbornly considered Gambit to be his Master even though the Thief had insisted that all the Siskans were free here. Like Kimble, Asher had taken Julien under his wing, anything for his precious Master. He did his best to help Julien get by both academically and in a proper religious life and Remy was grateful for it.
"De'sole, I'm sorry you 'ad to watch after 'im," Gambit apologized. Molly was gracious and caring and had done her best to make Julien feel included into his new family, but the boy had been difficult. It was hard for him to overcome the aversion to mutants that Frost had taught him and Molly's clawed hands and extra hairiness made him uncomfortable.
Remy had asked for and gotten Julien included on the squad in the hopes that he and his son might grow closer. They hadn't made much progress so far. Julien seemed to be going through the motions of squad life for reasons Remy wasn't quite sure of. It was probably only because the training was considered therapeutic for him, it was supposedly teaching him social skills and therefore was also keeping him out of the lockup. He was more social yes, because of it, but only because he was forced to be. Outside of the squad, he was quiet and withdrawn, sullen. Remy was wondering if it was even possible for the lad to ever be happy at all. He was here because quite frankly, he had nowhere else to go. He'd once had a mother and two sisters but they were dead now, victims of the Flush, and so Remy was all he had left.
It was fine, Molly replied to Remy's apology, smiling now. He didn't sleep well, but neither did the twins. He helped me out a lot with them. They are rather taken with him, you know.
Remy couldn't help but smile. He liked the idea of Julien at least growing to love his half-siblings if not his own father. The kid needed some real family now that he had lost everyone else he had ever known. He knew that Julien's affection had come in no small part because the twins were X-gene negative and had no outward sign of any mutation whatsoever. Because of that, as far as Julien was concerned, they were free from sin even if their parents were not.
Asher came and prayed with him a while. It seemed to give him some comfort.
Remy nodded, happy to hear it. Asher regarded all the things that belonged to his Master as things to be looked after, including his wayward son, and made sure all was in proper order. Since Julien still clung so tightly to the religious beliefs that Frost had pounded into him, it was helpful to have someone familiar with the religious life to stand beside the boy and move him along in a much more proper direction. While Remy considered himself Christian, he hadn't embraced the life anywhere as much as Asher had. Asher had become Julien's unofficial Godfather, helping the boy spiritually as much as the others around him were trying to help him integrate back into normal society.
Gambit couldn't imagine anyone praying over Frost's lost soul but then he supposed that even the bad guys needed someone there for them, right? This was Asher's spirit of forgiveness rubbing off on him, warming his chilly heart. It wasn't like he was a saint himself. Orphaned at birth, Remy had been raised in the Thieves Guild of New Orleans and been in and out of trouble most of his life. He was in no position to judge anyone.
Molly glanced over Remy's shoulder and signed, Speaking of Siskans, where's Kimble and Aiden?
"Left Aiden to keep an eye on t'ings back east and Kim's still sleepin' it off in the Dragon. Boy never could 'old 'is liquor."
Molly sniffed at him with playful suspicion. She could tell that he had cleaned up himself, but no amount of Listerine was going to hide the fact that he had done his own fair share of drinking, too. Her eyes were knowing as she questioned, How about you?
He just smiled at her, confident in spite of having been busted. "I've 'ad a lot more practice den dose silly little boys. I'm fine, chere. Sorry we 'ave to go right back out again. I was hoping to be back today."
It's okay. We still have plenty of food left.
Of all of Remy's Siskans, Kimble was the most helpful to Molly and Remy when it came to managing the twins. Without even having to be asked, Kimble had not only seen to it that the laundry was all caught up before they had departed, he had also left Molly well stocked with pre-prepared frozen dishes he had made so she wouldn't have to cook. He had known that she would have her hands full with the twins all by herself when all of her helpers were gone and hadn't wanted her to be overwhelmed.
"Bien," Remy said, pleased that she was so well taken care of. "I'll try to 'ave us back as soon as I can, je promets."
Remy released his wife when he saw Scott Summers walking over towards him from the nearest guard shack. He tried not to groan out loud in dismay, certain that this was going to be something he wasn't going to like. Scott was the highest ranking active X-man here at the Complex and Remy deferred to the man even though he didn't always agree with his policies and plans. The truth was the X-men were evolving into a more militarized society whether they had liked it or not, and the system of rank and file was only growing more prevalent. It was the hazards of the times they were living in.
"Good. I'm glad I didn't miss you," Scott said, holding out his hand to be shaken. They were not yet at the point where they saluted each other but Remy had a feeling it wasn't going to be much longer the way things were going.
Gambit shook the man's hand but was still wary and on guard. It wasn't just Scott's unexpected appearance for what was probably just a simple exercise, it was his companion. The man who walked alongside him – if you could even truly call him a man anymore – was Warren Worthington. The former Gold Team member had previously been called Angel because he had once owned a pair of lovely white wings that had sprouted from his back, but those days were gone. His original wings had been lost on an old mission gone bad and he had never fully recovered from it, both mentally and physically. Warren had later learned that a poisonous substance called Honey could force a secondary mutation and in a last ditch effort to regain his former glory, had downed a vial of it.
Warren had gotten the secondary mutation he had desired, but the results were far more traumatic than what he had anticipated and he had been lucky to survive. The Honey had given him back his wings, but it had come with a terrible price. It had turned the rest of his body into something twisted, something more animal than man, forever removing the playboy good looks he'd had for most of his life.
The white feathered wings he'd had previously had been returned as perfectly as he had hoped, but now they were on the body of a lion man, long tail included. His face still retained many of his former human features but his hair was mostly gone, replaced by white feathers in a disheveled Mohawk of sorts. His once beautiful nose was elongated and sharp, almost the suggestion of a beak but not quite. His temperament had changed as well, he was no longer the arrogant playboy, but had now evolved into a more predatory mentality, not that far from Kyle's own. His eyes were watchful, hard, and you could never quite guess just what he was thinking, only that it most likely wasn't good. While he hadn't been physically violent to anyone in authority, Remy could see the desire for it held tightly in check – for now.
"We leavin' in five," Remy offered as an excuse and took a step away towards his ship, hoping this wasn't going to be what he thought it was.
"I would like you take Warren along with you," Scott insisted, trying not make it sound like an order even though it was.
"It's just a drill," Remy protested, keeping his voice light though his fists had clenched in irritation. Warren was one scary dude these days. Even Molly had stepped back and away from him, moving the twins behind her defensively.
Warren's eagle's eyes peered sharply at Remy as though he were prey, his lion's tail swishing with a curiosity that had nothing to do with play. His codename had been changed from Angel to Gryfon because well, what else would you call a man who looked just like that mystical beast? Or at least as much as a man could and still be somewhat human.
"You'd be doing me a favor," Scott insisted, the tense smile still fixed on his lips.
"He even cleared fo' de field?" Remy whined, reaching for anything that might get him out of this. Warren had had some scary episodes of verbal abuse during the training sessions he'd shared with Remy's squad. Warren was quick to harass the slower kids, he demeaned them almost to the point of bullying, and Remy had been forced to remove him more than once to go cool off.
"It's just a drill, like you said," Scott countered, rolling this right back on Remy. "That shouldn't matter."
Gambit sighed, seeing he wasn't going to get out of this. "Fine," he replied, but dared to look Warren right in the eyes. "But only so long as you acknowledge dat I'm de guy in charge, comprenez? You do what I say. No questions or I bounce yo' ass."
Warren's look was not friendly. It wasn't all that long ago that Warren had outranked Remy by a wide margin. Warren's recent changes had bumped him way down in status, just one small hop off the disabled list. He had once been the front face of the X-men, one of the poster children for mutant equality, but his high publicity days were now over for good and all he had left to occupy him was the chance to get back in the field. The X-men were working him through the training as a kind of physical therapy to help him to adapt to the secondary mutation gone bad, but they all knew the real score. If he failed here, there was no longer a place for him in the rank and file, something that was mortifying for any senior X-man. Oh how the mighty have fallen.
"You're the boss," Warren returned, not quite able to remove all of the disdain from his voice. The smile he gave didn't reach his eyes. He would never be able to hide his open contempt for the Thief that was a leftover from their past. He would always blame Gambit for the mission that had caused the loss of his original wings, something that was without a doubt carried over to his current predicament. If not for that loss he never would have taken the Honey and become the monster he was now. Remy could also see that Warren had never doubted that he would be allowed to go along today, not with Scott here to back up the request.
Remy grit his teeth in irritation at the arrogance, a sound Scott could hear. Scott was quick to reassure, "Don't worry, Warren has been looking over your squad while you were gone and he was great with them. Everything's fine." He even dared to pat Warren on the back, like that would just fix everything.
It didn't. In spite of Scott's bright smile, Remy could still see that inside, Scott was just as distrustful of his old friend as everyone else was. The shines never lie and Remy had grown to read them well. Still, Scott was trying to do all he could for Warren. Unfortunately, Remy had just been drafted in that regard. His look wasn't happy as he pinned down Scott with his eyes. "I t'ought Rogue was keepin' watch on my kids."
"She got called out on a mission right after you left for Maine. She only just got back an hour or so ago. It was bit rough and I told her to get some rest."
Remy sighed. He had lost this battle and bickering about it wasn't going to accomplish anything. He repeated to Warren, "I'm de boss."
"You're the boss," Warren echoed, but his voice was hard, unfriendly. He hadn't appreciated the double reminder.
"Fine," Remy relented, waving a dismissive hand up in the air. He squinted a bit as he felt the beginnings of a headache blossom over his eyes. "Go on up de ship. I just wanna say goodbye to my wife."
Warren bowed his head in mock submission and did as he had been told. Remy's look hardened at the sight of it, something that didn't change even as Scott gave his thanks and departed quickly as he could, like a guilty man leaving the scene of a crime. Remy was so sure this was going to be a mistake but there was nothing he could do about it now. It was done.
Let it go, Molly signed, coming back up close. It's just not worth it.
"Je sais, I know," he agreed, pulling her in tight for another meaningful embrace. He didn't argue any more, he just held her close. Typically when he went out on any sort of mission that was going to take some time, they always had a night out together, not just a quick meet and greet like this. It felt wrong to leave so soon. It was so unsatisfying.
Come home safe, she signed into his hand, a shorthand message he had become all too familiar with.
"Nuthin's goan keep me from you," he promised. "Dis ain't no big deal nohow, just Logan messin' around."
Molly just smiled indulgently at him. They had been married far too long for his uncertainty to get past her.When you get back, you'll take me dancing, she said, making her patient demands with her usual loving style.
He just grinned and kissed her deeply before replying. "It's a date."
He then gave her hand a squeeze and let her go, following where Warren had gone.
(Break)
Back east, Aiden had watched the Dragon 2 depart for Arizona without regret. He knew Remy would be back in about an hour or so and wasn't worried. He wasn't fully convinced just yet that this situation was any big deal so he took his time, taking a long, leisurely smoke on Logan's back porch before venturing out into the snow to have a look around.
The Siskans were non-organic but that didn't mean they couldn't be affected by anything they might ingest or smoke. Nicotine from smoking cigarettes was somewhat soothing to them but the chemical THC (Tetrahydrocannabinol – yeah, I dare you to say that three times fast! ~ Sq) in marijuana was even more so. Because of this the Siskans were allowed access to this controlled substance, but only in very limited quantities and only under Dr. McCoy's strict supervision.
They were also capable of getting drunk from ingesting alcohol, but just how quickly varied from Siskan to Siskan the same as it did in humans. Aiden had a fairly high tolerance, but Kimble could get quite tipsy from just a glass or two of wine. It didn't make them aggressive however like it could with some people, it just made them giddy and silly and even more playful than they most often were already. There was nothing more amusing to Aiden than watching Kimble get silly drunk and stumble about, giggling madly at just about anything. Needless to say, the pair had a well stocked booze cupboard back home.
Aiden, being something of a moody creature at times, smoked quite a bit more than Kimble did and always had a pack handy. They would be menthols of course, or better yet, cloves if he could find them. He was good about it though, and never smoked in front of the kids in the squad. He couldn't get cancer from smoking, but they could. He wouldn't do anything to influence them by any of his bad habits.
Aiden finished his smoke, crushed out his butt in an empty metal soup can Logan had left on the railing for just that purpose, and stepped off into the snow. He had dressed well for the weather and wasn't unduly cold just yet though he had no desire to romp around out here for hours. He hoped this little game of Logan's wouldn't take long, or at least had some inside parts where it was warmer.
The sun was rising now, brightening over the tree tops and making the tracks that much easier to see. Aiden had an excellent memory as all the Siskans did – having a star drive for a brain was definite plus – and the quick lessons Logan had passed on during their recent hunting trips came right in handy. He had no trouble picking up Logan's tracks from just hours ago and followed them out into the trees. He made his way carefully, making sure not to disturb the man's marks in case he had to backtrack. Remy had drilled the squad hard in many areas, wanting them to have a well rounded education, and to a small degree crime scene investigative techniques had been passed along. Ever mindful of those lessons he had learned, Aiden utilized the small digital camera from his work pack to snap some pictures as he moved along. He also stuck the occasional small florescent green circle sticker on a tree here and there to mark his progress in case Remy and the squad had to follow him later.
The tracks went on for a ways and over time Aiden began to feel more and more of the chill. Yeah, he was really hoping this wasn't going to be an all day in the snow affair. Granted it was better than some of the typical ole boring indoor exercises they used to run practices with back home, but it was colder out here than he liked.
The trees began to thin out a bit and the tracks lead out into a small clearing not far from the cabin. Aiden dutifully followed them out as directed, numbly wondering how it was that the man could have gone this far barefooted without freezing half to death or getting a serious case of frostbite. It had to be warmer out here now with the sun up than when the tracks were made and still it was bitterly cold.
Aiden halted suddenly when he noticed something he hadn't before. It was true that there were stories in the snow just as Logan had instructed him and just now, he realized that he hadn't been listening all that well. Shame on him. These latest tracks were a bit fresher than the ones he had started with and it was only now that his sharp eyes finally discerned that what he had first thought were tracks made by a single man, were in reality tracks made by two. The second impression, so carefully inlaid over the older one, was smaller, slimmer. He had just been tricked.
"You gotta be kiddin' me!" Aiden complained to himself, dropping his pack and whining that he had been so easily mislead. All that time in the snow and he had probably missed valuable clues that had been left alongside the track in his stupidity. Logan's game wasn't as simple as it had first appeared.
The complaint had no sooner left his lips when he was suddenly slammed from behind, the blow hard enough to temporarily daze him. He stumbled forward to his knees before going down face first into the snow without an ounce of dignity, its icy chill burning his cheeks. Too bad he didn't pass out, he next howled in agony as pain bloomed large and ugly in his back right through to his chest. It revived him instantly and he reflexively threw off his attacker with a telekinetic shove, releasing a small burst of spikes along with it just for good measure.
Unlike Kimble who was talented enough to fly the Dragon 2, Aiden's telekinetic ability was extremely limited. He could generate weak shields to protect his body and create clear, crystalline spikes from thin air. The spikes were actually shards of a telekinetic shield, broken down and mentally thrown about. Kimble could make the spikes as well, but where Kimble's spikes were mighty icicles of death, Aiden's were more like darts or pencil sized. Just big enough to annoy or injure, but not nearly as deadly.
Aiden rose to his knees, hazy now from shock and stared numbly at his chest. He could see six rather large punctures through his parka, holes that were leaking gel blood at a rather alarming rate. His blood wasn't red like a human, it was a clear runny pink and sparkly, glistening brightly as it left the heat of his body and then simply shimmered away as if it hadn't been real. While it might have been fascinating to anyone else, this potentially mortal injury wasn't amusing Aiden now in the least. Had Logan actually dared to jump him by surprise and then run him through? That was insane! This was supposed to be a game, nothing more.
He turned to look behind him and squinted in confusion, not sure just who he was looking at. It certainly wasn't Wolverine, not even close. A few steps away stood a young man he did not recognize, very slim in build and dressed only in black denim jeans as though the cold didn't affect him in the least. His skin was a light golden brown, his slanted, Asian eyes betraying the fact that he was not likely to be American. One side of his upper body was brightly marked with black tribal tattoos that swirled about him as if excited to be there. His head was shaved but for a long strip of black hair down the middle, a wild and wispy Mohawk that made him look that much more menacing. And he did look menacing indeed, in no small part due to his fierce anger. He was issuing his own complaints as he yanked several of Aiden's larger sized spikes from his arms and chest.
At first Aiden was elated, a bit of tit for tat that made up some for his own stupidity in not checking his surroundings anywhere near well enough. It didn't last. When he saw the young man's injuries closing up neatly and vanishing as soon as the spikes were removed, it all of a sudden wasn't so funny anymore. Aiden couldn't generate spikes endlessly, it took energy, energy that was draining from him quickly as he continued to bleed out from his own wounding. He could charge from the sun yes, and even heal himself from injury, but it took time. Time he did not have.
Aiden snarled in frustration and staggered to his feet even though he already knew that it was probably futile to run. He had been disabled quite effectively, all of his Gladiator training going right to waste. So terribly stupid, this carelessness on his part. He should have done better, he should have been more careful. Not that he could do anything about it now, perhaps this had been the final mistake he would ever make. He was badly injured, basically useless, and Remy probably wouldn't make it back here in time. Of course even if the Thief did arrive now, he and his squad were heading right into a real trap and there wasn't anything Aiden could do to stop it. Remy had been right after all, this hadn't been a game at all.
The man laughed as Aiden awkwardly rose and then garbled something at Aiden in a language the Siskan didn't understand. There was a hint of pleasure in it, this man was a hunter and Aiden the prey. This was nothing but pure amusement for the guy. What great fun.
Yeah, well, Aiden was all done playing. He willed his legs to carry him, as if simply wishing for escape would be good enough, and actually managed to get a few feeble strides away towards the trees before he was slammed hard again and shoved roughly back to the ground.
"Fuck!" Aiden complained in annoyance for his own benefit if nothing else. How embarrassing was this? An X-man, him? Please! At least he had managed to shield his own body enough that he wasn't run through again.
Aiden was sprawled on his back now, his body taking huge empty gasps of air that did him no good. He had no internal organs as humans did, but he still needed to breathe to survive. He was badly injured, perhaps even fatally so. He could see why. That pesky and persistent young man was on top of him again, pinning him down, his face lit up with a kind of savage glee, his eyes wild. He was futilely slashing at Aiden, three long bone claws in each hand striking Aiden's clumsy shield to no effect. These claws were not exactly like Logan's, two came out of the top of his hand like Logan's did, but the third came from below and through the man's wrist, something that looked a bit awkward though it didn't seem to trouble the man. The claws were not metal either, they were simply bone and tinged a bit red from the young man's flesh as they had come out.
What was troubling the fellow, however, was the fact that he couldn't injure the poor wounded Siskan any more than he already was. Aiden's parka and the clothing underneath were shredding quite nicely, but that was it. Aiden's shield was holding for now. The guy stopped trying to hack away at his prey and sniffed at him, his own narrow eyes squinting. "What the fuck are you?!" he snarled in exasperation, trying another language the Siskan was more likely to understand.
Aiden gasped, comprehending the last bit at least. Up close, the man's shine blazed brilliantly, something Logan's did as well, as did all the other regenerators that Aiden had crossed paths with. That combined with all of the sniffing had Aiden guessing that the fellow was yet another feral, perplexed not just by his shields but by the fact that while Aiden was clearly bleeding, he had no heartbeat and no scent beyond that last cigarette he had just smoked. The lack of scent frustrated ferals to no end and confused them because it denied them the most common tool they used to assess people. They didn't like it.
Aiden, cocky to the last, simply smiled and slurred suggestively in a breathless wheeze, "What am I? Heh.. Aiden could 'ave ... been one of you... wildeszt dreamsz, eh? Take you... to a plaze you never knew exiszted. But you ruin.. ze introduction. No playtime... fo' you..."
The man just laughed at Aiden's joke, sitting back on his haunches, his knees tight to Aiden's still heaving sides. He could afford to be jovial, he could clearly see that Aiden was weak and growing weaker. He was no threat and therefore no longer any sport. "You're an amusing creature," he observed, his English flawless and carrying no accent. "Too bad you will die now. The Master would have very much enjoyed playing with you. "
He then reached down and began to paw through Aiden's torn clothes. Aiden did his best to try to stop him but he was too weak to do more than bat at the man's hands feebly with his own. Amazingly, the man just smiled a bit wistfully and brushed those hands gently aside, shushing him soothingly as he would a child. "Shh, shh, easy now... Relax."
Aiden coughed and sobbed a bit at it with something akin to horror. He knew the offer of comfort was insincere, this guy was just trying to quiet an uncooperative victim, not wanting any interference as his hands strayed here and there as they pleased. This man owned him now and he knew it. He was a taker and now he was taking. Aiden was completely helpless, all his.
But he wasn't gone, not just yet. Even injured, Aiden could feel the warmth of the man's hands as they brushed his now exposed skin. The guy paused wonderingly to admire the large Mark on Aiden's chest, running his slender fingers down the long length of the blade. Aiden knew that to an outsider, the Mark would look like a large, bright, freshly applied tattoo. These colors would never fade over time like they would have on a human. It was striking enough to catch the eye even of this rather busy predator.
Of course the curiosity didn't last long and the man went back to his investigations. These were not casual touches, these were almost exploratory, and yes, at one point the man did dip his fingers into the gel blood pouring out of the holes he had made in the poor helpless Siskan and raised them to his nose, still searching for some kind of scent. It wasn't going to come and he gave it up, using his time for better use. He rifled through Aiden's shredded parka pockets, smiling when he discovered his cell phone. He opened it and effortlessly began to go through the different menus, the phone making happy cheerful noises even as it was violated for its secrets.
Aiden lay as he was, unable to do a single thing about it. He tried to kick his legs and thrash his arms some more in an effort to dismount his attacker but his limbs were so heavy now that he could hardly move. He had lost too much blood. The personal shield he had created to protect himself had already dissolved from his weakness but the young man above him was too busy with the cell phone now to care. Aiden's breaths, still so long and shallow, were slowing now, the energy it required to make them simply growing too great with each attempt.
Aiden gave up on useless efforts to escape and rolled his head so he looked up to the grey cloud covered sky, his body so terribly cold and empty now. With the lack of oxygen, everything was dim and growing dimmer and he knew his attacker had spoken the truth — yes, he was going to die. He wasn't afraid to embrace the light and move on to whatever came next, he never had been. But he did worry for Kimble, how his precious Lover would take the loss. Kimble had lost so much already and Aiden had promised to be with him always. Looked like he'd made one promise too many, one that he wasn't going to be able to keep after all.
A single tear dripped from one eye, all that his body had left to offer besides one last sobbing, gasping breath that held only Kimble's name. If his attacker had a response to that, Aiden never heard it. The blackness finally took him and he knew no more.