Thanks to hippiechick2112 and HalfSquirrel for reviewing!

Something beeped and Chris swore.

"Shouldn't be picking up a signal," he muttered.

He sat in the pilot's seat with Ororo as copilot. For once Scott gave up the seat instead of calling shotgun. (Ruth did not believe in shotgun. To Alex it was sacrosanct.)

Chris slid his finger along the console and a screen appeared, like a radar, showing a single blip at about the second something smashed into the ship.

Chris swore. The controls jumped for a moment as he wrestled the ship out of its shaking response, and hurried into a dodging zigzag.

"What's going on?" Scott asked.

"Must've waited for me," Chris muttered.

"What?"

"Damn. We'll have to jump."

"What?" Scott asked again, and again Chris didn't answer him.

The first jolt sent him crashing into the wall of the ship. He held onto Ororo's chair, his other hand grasping hers—they both realized this was serious. They didn't know what it was, but it was serious.

"Brace yourselves," Chris warned.

A sudden acceleration once more threw Scott into the wall of the ship. He didn't try to stand as the ship flew so quickly it rattled, but he saw the dark and stars through the windscreen. (What did you call a windscreen that kept a lack of atmosphere out?)

It was impossible to say how long this went on. The ship rocketed through space like… well, like a spaceship, and faster than any car, train, or airplane Scott or Ororo had ever known. Occasionally it would slow down just enough for Chris to swear.

This continued until, finally, they came to a stop near a larger ship. Their tiny transport next to this one was like a kitten next to an elephant (in outer space).

"Please tell me these people like you," Ororo said.

Chris chuckled and nodded. "They like me." He picked up what looked like half a walkie-talkie and said, "This is Flying Sergeant Chris Summers, U.S. Army, requesting permission to board."

It went quiet, then crackled to life with, "No more time to wait, Chris?"

"No more," Chris replied, grinning.

"Chris," Scott interrupted, tone sharp. He had finally picked himself up off the floor and was staring now out into the vast nothingness, an endless sky and a sea of tiny lights.

"Zee, you got Raza there with you?"

"I am here, Captain."

"Someone's on my tail, I think it's Krade—"

"We shall bring you aboard."

The tiny ship was swallowed into the larger one. When its door slid open, Chris told Ororo and Scott, "Wait here," and hurried out.

Ororo started to follow, an eye on Scott. She would take his lead on this one. After a moment, he nodded and left the small ship with him.

The larger ship was easy enough to navigate. They followed the sound of Chris's footsteps, and when those stopped, the sound of voices.

"…noted the coordinates," Chris was saying, his voice tense and urgent.

"I have done so."

The response came from parts of a man, though he had been heavily changed with one leg, an arm, and pieces of the opposite hand covered in metal. His only hair was a long ponytail tied high at the back of his head.

"Good man," Chris said. "Zee, when he comes through, I want that bastard blasted out of the sky."

His gunner nodded. She looked rather like a cat, or perhaps a skunk, in human form: furry with pointed ears and a puffy tail hanging over the edge of her chair. She was also clearly a woman, clearly enough that Scott looked away.

"Is done."

"You'll only have a moment to—"

"You born deaf, or have to practice?"

"Fair enough. We can only hope he makes it before the Empire."

"Or anyone else on Hepzibah's tail," added the fourth person in the control room. He was large, larger even than Hank, with green scales covering his body.

"Why Hepzibah tail?" demanded Hepzibah, flicking her tail at him.

"Because it is the nicest."

"Hmph. Well when you right…"

The ship that had attacked them earlier popped into the sky and immediately a burst of noise filled the room.

Chris swore. "Zee!" he shouted, but the ship's weapons were already firing on the tiny interloper, blasting him out of the sky. Scott tightened his grip on Ororo's hand.

There was no rejoicing, however.

"Chances no one picks up that transmission?" Chris asked.

"Slim to none, if they be at all," said the half-metal man.

"Right. Ch'od, get us out of the quadrant."

The big, green man nodded.

"Wait," Scott said, "out of the quadrant? We have to go home!"

Chris turned to him for the first time since they reached the room. He had been busy before, other things far more pressing, but now he gave them a sad look and shook his head.

"I'm sorry. We're fugitives, Scott, and the people following us—"

"I don't care!" he interrupted. "You're kidnapping us!"

"Earth would be in tremendous danger."

"You knew."

"It's not exactly—"

Scott took a swing at him, landing his fist on Chris's jaw hard enough to make Chris stagger back. For a moment they stared at one another. The other adults began to stand, which made Ororo shift her stance. If this turned into a fight, they were dead. They would go down swinging.

Chris held up a hand. "No," he said, "it's all right."

With a roar, Scott rushed him, but he was angry now. He didn't have the advantages of surprise or even a remotely calm head. Chris caught him easily. "Scott, it'll be okay."

Scott ignored him, continuing to lash out, and Chris kept his hold tight until Scott began to relax.

"Okay," he said. "I'm okay."

Chris loosened his grip.

Scott snapped into action, grabbing Chris and hurling him to the floor, immediately falling on top of him. He pressed his knee into Chris's neck and leaned on it.

"Scott!" Ororo called.

Chris's face was changing color.

"Scott, don't!"

He didn't move on his own.

He moved because Hepzibah, the cat-skunk-lady, tore him off and deposited him back on the floor. "Chris?" she asked, kneeling beside him.

Ororo did the same for Scott. "Shvi," she murmured, seeing him start to get up. "Shvi, no, stay down."

"He's kidnapped us," Scott whispered hoarsely.

"I know."

"He stole us."

"I know."

"He's taken everything! Oh, no, Alex. Alex can't handle this!"

"Alex has Charles," Ororo reminded him. Charles would take care of him.

"He needs me—"

"I need you!" She leaned close, hugging Scott as she murmured, "I need you to be smart, Scott, because I'm scared, too, but we can't get back on our own. We can't survive here without their help. Understand?"

He nodded.

"Good." She drew back. "Apologize."

"Uh…"

"Tell him you're sorry! Call him 'dad'. Whatever it takes."

"No," Chris said. He still had a hand on his throat. At the decision, Ororo shifted closer to Scott. "You have every right to be angry. You've lost so much already."

Ororo squeezed Scott's shoulder. She heard the objection already: but they hadn't lost their home. Their home was taken from them. She knew very well that in the end it didn't matter. They still needed somewhere to sleep, something to eat, the goodwill of the people on this ship.

"We'll keep you safe until we can return you to Earth. Raza," Chris said, returning his attention to the crew.

"Ah… yes, Captain."

They returned to larger concerns for the moment, leaving Ororo and Scott to pick up the pieces as best they could. They were on a spaceship, probably hundreds if not thousands of miles from home. Neither of them knew if that was the floor tilting under them or just the feeling of everything they knew falling away.

"We'll get through this," she promised. She had been here before: lost a culture, a country, a continent, a language. She had lost everything. So she knew it was something survivable.

"I won't let anything happen to you. If I can keep myself from… doing anything else stupid, I'll be okay, and I won't let anything happen."

She nodded. "We'll be fine."

"Yeah."

Neither of them believed it. The loss was still too raw. It hadn't even settled into grief yet. Sure, they had lost homes. They had lost families, cities… but not planets.

Scott nodded at the view through the window. "Look."

In case either of them needed a reminder.

"It's not even the stars from home."

The End