Author Note: I'm so sorry for the long absence, but I've been having a huge problem with the timelines. It came down to doing extensive rewrites to try and make them fall into line, or fold them into a tri-cornered hat and stomp on them. I'm going for option B. So, I'm going to be twisting them all out of shape and jamming them together to get things to work out the way I want them to.

I will do my best to explain everything without being a bore, but no yelling that things aren't happening in the proper order. Because of my mutilation of the time lines, Victor and Sabertooth are just going to be two different people. That's the only way things are going to work.

I shifted the events in the Wolverine movie up several years to bring the timelines closer together, making them happen a few years before the X-Men movies begin, instead of a few decades.

Here is a small timeline that will help explain IX's age and break things down a little.

Age 6: Harry is taken from Privet Drive

6-8: IX is crafted and trained at the Hive with X

8-12: IX and X are part of Stryker's team (Note: there will be a time skip so don't panic)

12-14: IX and X are with the X-men

14 Start of the Sequel and moving to the Wizarding world

This will give you hints of what's coming without giving away any of the juicy details. I hope this little guide helps provide a timeline of what events are taking place when. Now just a small note on IX's age. The above are the number of years he's been alive, but due to the accelerated growth and the reprogramming of his mind, IX is fully adult in every way. Think about the clones in Star wars, they were only around 10 years old, but no one would look at the clone army and say there's an army of pre-teens.

If you have any questions, please feel free to review or PM me and I will do my best to explain.

Warnings: Torture, minor character death.

Chapter 13 – Integration

"Most teams aren't teams at all but merely collections of individual relationships with the boss. Each individual vying with the others for power prestige and position." – Douglas McGregor

"Major, do come in," the Director invited the younger man into his office. Eyes the color of ice clashed with a brown that should have been warm but failed. "I've found a solution to your little disciplinary problem." He watched Stryker's body stiffen at the barb, but the Major wisely kept silent. It was a mark in the man's favor. He loathed subordinates who oozed excuses like puss from an open sore. A high definition screen slid smoothly down from the ceiling, and after keying in a command, images began scrolling across the former blankness. Blood splashed artistically over the arena, followed by video feed of the live testing conducted by the late Matron's team.

He watched the Major absorb the data and suppressed a smirk at the dark look the younger male gave him. "Stories of the Weapon X project have made the rounds, Director. The program has a rather extensive history of malfunctioning." Stryker's disgruntled tone didn't faze the Director.

"Yes. The rumors have become quite prevalent. However, I can assure you that the Weapons are entirely under my control."

Stryker's eyes flashed at the deceptively innocent wording. The Director's lips crinkled into a predatory smirk while he watched the meaning sink in. Let's see what he makes of that, and if he takes the warning to heart.

"I…see. Who is the second individual?"

"IX. He is X's primary handler and will be your tool to control both X and the rest of the Team."

Doubt flashed over Stryker's features. "Is he effective?"

A dry chuckle rasped between the Director's lips at the question. "Indeed. If you don't believe me have him take care of your little traitor. Require the rest of the team to watch. I'm sure it will be quite educational."

"What about the sister? We haven't found a way to terminate her that won't result in the total destruction of her body."

The Director waved the question away. "Leave it to IX. Debrief him on her mutation and he'll develop the most effective solution."

"We need her body intact for further study."

"Of course. Simply inform IX of that stipulation, and he will comply." The Director replied, his winter gaze burned into Stryker's until the Major dropped his eyes in an unconscious gesture of submission. He knew the young man disliked the tightening of the leash that the Weapons represented, but he also knew Stryker understood the necessity. Had he not allowed the situation to reach the point where the Director needed to interfere, he would have been able to maintain his autonomy.

"Fine. If that's all, I need to get back to the team."

"Were you able to find anything, Hank?" A fuzzy indigo head lifted from the microscope at the sound of Charles voice.

"These samples are rather fascinating. I've determined the temperatures required for this level of complete immolation, at minimum, would be 4,200 degrees Fahrenheit. In contrast, John's peak heat measurement is a mere 650, hardly hot enough to melt lead. What I have failed to conclude is how this mutant was able to contain such an intense inferno. The power level must be extraordinary." Hank rumbled, both delighted and appalled by the puzzle the strange mutant represented.

"Did you find anything else," Scott demanded. Even after three showers he still felt like the stench of smoke clung to his skin.

Even through the fur they saw Hank's look turn somber. "I was able to isolate trace amounts of human DNA. The samples were too degraded to do more than confirm their existence, but. Well, look for yourselves." Turning, he brought up a satellite image of the small village before the fire. Next he overlaid it with a map of clustered red dots. "The red markers indicate where traces of DNA were located."

"All of them?" Ororo's voice wavered when she realized that each of the clusters of red overlaid one of the houses.

"It would appear that some of the structures were uninhabited, but yes. It appears this was a thriving community before the mutant attacked," Hank confirmed.

Glaring at the clusters of red dots, Scott's skin began crawling. They had spent hours combing through the ashes, through the dead. A harsh frown twisted his lips before he rounded on Charles. "How did this happen? You should have known about this monster before she ever reached this level of power!"

"Scott!"

"It's all right Hank. He has a point. An Omega level mutation should never have reached this level of control without my having felt her powers awaken. What Malcom witnessed was not a mutant coming into their power, but someone who's developed their skills to a frightful degree. Scott, Ororo, take Jean and search the surrounding area. That settlement was cut off from everything. I want to know where this mutant came from. The likelihood of her originating in that town is almost non-existent," Charles said, his eyes distant with guilt. I should have sensed her before now, where are you little fire starter?

A white clock faced with black numbers, the style exclusive property of government facilities everywhere, ticked off the seconds with dry repetitiveness that seemed to draw each out to the length of a minute. "So, what do you think this is all about?" Wade's voice cut through the low mutter of the waiting team members like his favorite sword. The tall mercenary flung himself back into a chair with all the grace of a rebellious teen before he kicked his booted feet up onto the glass top table. Fred tossed a peanut up into the air and caught it in his mouth, totally ignoring his loud mouthed teammate.

Growling, Victor replied, "I don't know, maybe Stryker's found a way to shut you up and got us all together to share the good news." A single claw-like nail lengthened, and he began etching a caricature of the Major into the glass.

Zero smirked, not bothering to look up from the gun he was meticulously taking apart to clean. He doubted it was anything so innocent, not with the stunt Kayla tried to pull last week. No, they were probably going to get a mixed dose of fatherly disapproval and dire threat. What can he do, lock us up with the rest of the test subjects? If so, who would go hunting for him? Zero's thoughts were interrupted when the door to the conference room opened.

"Attention, men!" Major Stryker's voice lashed into the room like a whip of flame. Those two words conveyed his temper even before he'd fully entered the room. Instead of standing up and saluting, Wade yawned, Chris jumped, causing the lights to flicker, Fred ate another peanut, Zero snapped the clip back into his gun, Wraith tipped his hat lower over his eyes, and Victor added donkey ears to his sketch.

"They lack discipline," an inflectionless voice murmured, only to be answered by a low growl. Frowning, Wade stood up and glared at the opening of the door. He laughed when a boy stepped past the Major followed by someone who made Victor seem tame in the face of his sheer animal magnetism.

Every eye was drawn to the two who stood in the doorway. A boy, whose head barely reached the shoulders of the Major, stood beside a muscular man who wore a pair of ragged blue jeans and an equally indifferent black t-shirt. If it weren't for the inhuman grace of the man, he might have been a homeless man the Major picked up just to mess with them. The larger mutant's feet were bare, and something in his stance conveyed protectiveness of the smaller male and menace towards everyone else in the room. As unlikely as it was for them to dismiss the man, the team's collective gaze was unwaveringly drawn to the boy. His short black hair looked like it had only known fingers as a comb, and his jaded eyes froze each of them in turn as he regarded them. Unlike the other male, his outfit was more professional. Black pants, shined shoes, and a slate grey, long sleeved shirt that molded to his narrow frame. His pale skin was ghostly against the dark colors, and only his poisoned green eyes seemed to add a cold color to his face. Those emeralds should have glittered with life, but instead they felt like the dead jewels they resembled. Beautiful, but empty of empathy and emotion.

Zero's keen gaze trailed over the slender form, silently marking off the subtle lines of blade sheaths. Something in the boy's stance marked him as a gun wielder as well, and the sharp shooter didn't doubt the boy had at least one firearm on his person. While he couldn't see it from here, he was leaning towards a small-of-back holster. Zero disregarded the apparent youth of the boy in favor of his economy of movement. Intensive training had gone into the child, and he understood immediately just how dangerous the boy could be. In seconds, Zero's gun was back together. The stranger's eyes flashed from the weapon to his dark gaze, and he swallowed at the distant look that whispered death to his assassin heart. It was like being watched by a snake, those eyes unreadable, but so very fatal if handled without care.

Fred's ponderous gaze trailed from boy to man and back. He saw the protective glint in the grown man's eyes, and decided that avoidance would be the best policy. Of course, he would follow orders. That was a given, but Fred instinctively knew who could take a joke, and who would stab you in the eye for a few careless words. Munching another peanut, he couldn't help but glance at Wade. That one didn't have any notion of when to speak, and when to hold his tongue. It amazed the large man that Wade hadn't been killed off yet for his insolent, and endless, spouting of words at the most inopportune moments.

"What the hell? You want to add a little boy and his pet dog to the team?" Wade demanded, his sable eyes glittered with mirth. His laughing gaze raked over IX's small form and dismissed him. X snarled and started forward, but IX halted the advance with a light touch to his wrist.

"Down, Fido," Wade muttered under his breath, his sharp edged smile laced with challenge. While Wade blathered on without thought, the rest of the team observed the duo. Zero's contemplative gaze lingered on the youth, and he understood where the power lay. The large one was dangerous in his own right, but it was the boy who held his leash.

Looking at the green-eyed mutant, Chris flinched. When their eyes met, it felt like he'd bit onto a piece of tinfoil. There was a slight narrowing of the boy's eyes that gave the technopath the sense that he felt the odd reaction too. It was unpleasant and made the flesh just beneath his skin itch with the need to leave the room. Something about the boy set his power on edge and it crackled in his mind like captive lightning, giving him a terrible headache.

IX stepped back until he was half behind X, giving him the appearance of a frightened child.

A frown pulled Wraith's full lips down at the unusual move. The boy looked young, but he moved like a feline, all well-oiled grace and deadly potential. It was odd that he would hide behind the larger male. Maybe he's trying to play us, use that baby-face of his to force our guard down.

Wade's smile flared into an all-out grin. "What, scared little boy?" Instead of replying, IX vanished soundlessly, only to reappear behind the mouthy mutant. A slender dagger kissed the pulse point at his throat. It had taken months for IX to learn he only needed his feet planted in shadows to walk them, and he'd found that X's shadow worked admirably for the task.

The rest of the team jerked in surprise at the sudden attack. Zero's guns were out and pointed, but to his disgust, the boy was small enough that his hand was all that showed from behind Wade. Wraith vanished, appearing behind the boy, but before he could fully materialize, IX's other hand came up holding a Firestar 9mm. The barrel rested just over Wraith's heart. He hadn't even turned to track the teleporter, and both knew he could pull the trigger faster than Wraith could vanish.

"Shit kid, we've already got a poof guy, so why don't you crawl back under whatever rock they found you, huh?" Wade joked, hissing when the blade nicked his skin. A fat drop of blood trickled down his skin, making him want to squirm at the ticklish sensation, but not quite daring to.

"Poof guy? What do you mean poof guy?" Wraith whined.

"You know, now you're here, then POOF…gone."

"Team, the Director has kindly provided two new operatives to make up for our lost member. They're also going to ensure no future losses occur." Stryker's voice broke the foolish debate, drawing their attention back to the deadly youth between them.

Before they could react, IX vanished. He stepped gracefully back out from behind X, his green gaze sharper than the knife. "I am IX and this is X, it is our duty to provide support and ensure the continued success of this team."

"Nine?!" Wade barked. "What the hell do you mean you're nine? I mean, yeah you're short but don't your nuts at least have to drop before you can join the army?"

Cool jade eyes locked on him, and he couldn't help but gulp. There was something about the brat that made his sac shrivel. "My designation is IX, not my age," was the only response.

Wade blinked. "Wait, designation. So, like, your name?"

"Yes."

"Uh huh. Right. Well, guess you'll fit right in kiddo." Leaping over one of the chairs, Wade threw an arm around Zero's shoulders and got a gun barrel buried in his ribs for the effort. "Oomph!" Pulling away, Wade rubbed at the tender spot. "Any who, this here's Zero. If we get a few more numbers and letters, we can play Bingo!"

"Wade, shut up." Stryker hissed as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

Victor ignored Wade's antics, Stryker's agitation, and everyone else in the room. His full attention was locked on X. But Jimmy didn't even glance in his direction. Instead, his brother's eyes remained on the small male at his side. It had been decades since he'd last laid eyes on Jimmy, and his claws lengthened in anger at the memory.

Flash back – Vietnam

After nearly three weeks of mind numbing boredom, their platoon was finally sent back into action. Instead of a battle to let off a little steam, they found another crappy little village with no sign of the bastards who constantly nipped at their heels only to turn and melt into the jungle when confronted. The rest of the team split off to interrogate the villagers when Victor saw the woman. I guess I'll do a little interrogation of my own. A few of the soldiers smirked when they saw him scoop the screaming woman off her feet and throw her over his shoulder. They didn't dare join in the fun, but Victor was a law unto himself. Only Jimmy could curb his baser instincts.

With a grunt, Victor tossed the girl onto the bed before he fell on her. Sharp yellowed claws hissed down the front of her shirt, tearing another scream from her throat when the cloth parted to reveal her quivering breasts. The piercing noise made Victor's sensitive ears ring. Baring his unusually sharp teeth an inch from her face; he wrapped his hand around her neck and squeezed. "Be good, just lay back and enjoy it," he grunted, his other hand reached down to unfasten his belt.

The screams cut off to frightened whimpers when the door crashed open. "What the hell are you doing?" Jimmy's fist locked onto the back of Victor's shirt, jerking him off the terrified girl. The pressure of traipsing through the jungle with nothing to kill on top of his thwarted lust broke the leash Victor usually held onto when dealing with his little brother.

Snarling, Victor lashed out and split Jimmy's face open to the bone. For an instant both brothers froze, then the wound started knitting together leaving behind a wash of blood. "I've had it with your shit Jimmy! You're such a fucking pussy. I'm done with it. We aren't the good guys' dumb ass, we're killers. We've always been killers and always will be. So lay off, and let me have a little fun."

Victor turned back to the cowering woman, Jimmy forgotten in favor of release. He almost didn't hear the quiet words, and later he wished he would have turned around. Maybe things would have been different if he had. "Fine. You know what? You're right. I'm done being your keeper." The door slammed, leaving him alone with the woman. Her look of betrayal was all the sweeter knowing Jimmy had put it there. For all his brother liked to pretend to be the hero, he still left the Princess to the Dragon's mercy.

"Finally, alone again." Victor grinned and pulled the trembling female back down onto the bed. With a low rumble of pleasure, he bent until his nose pressed against the curve of her throat. She shuddered when he drew in a deep breath, savoring her scent. So much better than American whores who paint their skin with perfume, he thought when he was able to taste the fields, sweat, and just her on her skin. Victor's tongue traced over her trembling pulse, and his body hardened further when she squeaked at the contact. "So sweet." Before he could bite down and mark her, the door slammed open again.

Huffing in irritation, Victor glared over his shoulder at the Senior Officer who'd interrupted. "Can't this wait ten minutes?" his playful smirk vanished when he was wrenched off the girl for the second time. While he might tolerate that kind of shit from Jimmy, no one else was allowed to disrespect him. Hot blood splashed over his face from the red ruin where the man's throat had been a second ago. Victor stepped over the body, planning on shutting the door to finish his business when he was overtaken by the rest of the platoon. It was one thing to kill the natives, but scragging an officer wouldn't be overlooked.

"Jimmy!" Victor roared, but the familiar presence that had always been there to protect his back was gone. The next morning, he faced the firing squad alone.

"Runt," Victor snarled. The rage faltered when Jimmy didn't react to the hated nickname. Instead, the short one's eyes locked on him. A shiver he refused to acknowledge crept down his spine when he looked into those brutally apathetic eyes.

"Victor." Stryker's voice froze the feral mutant. As much as he hated the human, Victor had learned obedience in payment for having a free reign during missions. Their working arrangement was the best he'd ever had. Better even than the army, where even though he could kill as much as he wanted, there were still limits and rules he was expected to follow.

"Come, we have business to tend to." IX said, ignoring the agitated team in favor of following Stryker down the hall to the interrogation rooms. They didn't look back to ensure the rest of the team followed. Wade's endless commentary was punctuated by Victor's irritable growls. The sound was similar enough to X's snarls that IX felt the fleeting brush of curiosity. He'd observed how the large man's eyes seemed to devour X, and he was certain the jab hadn't been meant for him. While he found the idea of X being a runt questionable, when compared to the other man he was smaller.

Before more questions could be asked of the Major or the shortest addition to the team, the group was ushered into the largest interrogation room. The table had been removed, and only a single chair remained. Kayla Silverfox gave each member of the team a scathing look as they came into view. Her hands were cuffed to the arms of the chair. Dark, fathomless eyes flitted from familiar face to familiar face before they settled on the strangers.

"Logan, I see they captured you after all." Anger and grim satisfaction bled into the words. Five years ago she'd been tasked with bringing the slippery mutant to heel, but even with the advantage of her powers, Logan \ eluded her. When he'd vanished without a trace, she despaired. He was meant to be her and her sister's ticket out of this living nightmare, but he hadn't fallen into line the way he was meant to.

Kayla frowned when Logan didn't react to her words. Instead, a short dark haired boy stepped forward. "Kayla Silverfox, on the 20th of November you attempted to release test subject 129 and abandon your position as a member of Team X. The sentence for these crimes is death."

Her eyes widened in shock at the proclamation. While she hadn't really expected to get away with her failed bid for freedom, she never anticipated the lengths they would go to punish her. "You can't do that! I haven't had a trial, this absurd. You can't just kill me," Kayla's voice came out strong with her righteous conviction, but broke on the word kill. The chains clattered madly as she fought against them.

IX stared at her without compassion. "You fail to understand your position. You are a member of an elite organization that operates on the fringe of Government. What happens here is not a matter for courts. The Director is our judge and jury. And I am his executioner." The last word sank into the watching team like a carelessly flicked drop of acid. Venomous green eyes turned to the Major. "Retrieve test subject 129." Stryker scowled at being ordered around, but did as he was told. Now wasn't the time to show a divided front, and he knew the brat was as much a spy for the Director as he was a leash for the wayward team.

"What? No, you can't hurt her. Please, it was my idea, leave Emma out of this," Kayla pleaded, tears making her wide brown eyes shimmer. "S-she can't be hurt, so you'll just be wasting your time. Leave her out of this."

IX watched her display and was unmoved by her obvious distress. The rest of the team members shifted uncomfortably, torn between pity for one of their own, and a growing unease for the slender green-eyed boy.

When the door opened, IX moved to stand next to Kayla, but his gaze fixated on the blond Stryker forced into the room before him. "Test subject 129, the scientists have learned all they can from you as a living sample. Your termination has been ordered by the Director." Wade winced at the blunt delivery, and shifted from foot to foot in agitation at the short brat's insensitivity. None of the team, well aside from Victor, liked the fact that they captured fellow mutants for the labs. Somehow, IX's cruelly indifferent words drove home the fact that they were the ones who captured Emma and now they would witness her being put down like a rat for dissection.

Instantly, Emma's body shifted to glittering stone. Even though her arms were cuffed behind her back, she stood straight and gave IX a cocky smirk. "You can't hurt me you little shit, so why don't you go back to your mommy and leave us alone?" The smirk faltered when the short boy didn't react to her taunting words. His green eyes remained blank, and his face seemed to be carved from porcelain and just as unmovable.

"You are correct. While your mutation is active, I cannot harm you. However, the same cannot be said of your sister." The bright overhead light flickered off a small dagger as it snaked out, carving a three inch long line down Kayla's cheek. The white of bone gleamed before blood splashed down the bound woman's front. Her scream, coupled with the swift display, made everyone in the room but X jump.

Emma's scream echoed her sister's as if she'd been the one sliced open. IX brought the blade up again and let it hover over Kayla's left eye. "Be silent." Trembling with both pain and mounting terror, Kayla choked the scream down to a whine. Emma's fear for her sister brought her own scream to an end.

Victor's eyes dilated when the hot stench of blood mingled with the growing taste of fear. It wasn't just the girls' fear that danced over his tongue like red wine. No, he could sense the moment the other teammates began to know fear for the Director's executioner. Even though it was just one little cut, the cold way the boy performed had a profound effect on the rest. Anyone who could cut up a woman's face without so much as flinching was someone to worry about.

In a move almost too fast to track, IX stepped behind Kayla's chair, reversed the blade and slammed it into the woman's chest.

"Kayla!" Terror lent the girl strength, and with another howl of fury, she broke away from Stryker's grip.

"Hold her."

X's sleek muscled arm locked around Emma's waist and jerked the girl back against his chest. He gave a low grunt when she slammed her heel back into his knee, but didn't let her go. "Kayla, don't be dead, God, don't be dead!" She screamed again.

Shifting, IX jerked the blade out, drawing another long screech from the bound woman. "Subject 129-"

"My name is EMMA! Stop hurting my sister, stop it!"

"Subject 129, I know every vital point of the human body." Again he drove the blade in, purposefully missing both lungs and heart. "More importantly, I know how to inflict the most damage without killing." He waited with inhuman patience for the women to stop screaming. When they'd quieted back down to whimpering, he continued.

"Tell me Subject 129, how much of your sister will I have to carve away before you yield?" IX did not understand love, but he had learned to take advantage of the bonds of affection that other humans felt for each other.

With a shuddering moan, Emma's defiant stance broke. The team watched her resolve crumble under the terrible weight of understanding. There was only one way out of this room, and that was in a body bag. The only question was how long it took to die. "I'm sorry, Kayla, I'm so sorry."

"No! D-don't worry about me, okay? They can't hurt you, and I'm dead anyway. Don't let them t-" her words were cut off by another brutal scream when IX drove the blade into her shoulder and twisted, shredding the muscles to inflict the greatest amount of damage. His face never changed, and those deadly eyes remained locked on Emma's, never flinching.

"Stop it! Monster. Stop hurting her, you can do what you want to me, but stop hurting my sister." Emma's skin returned to normal and tears flooded her eyes when she tried, and failed, to ignore Kayla's desperate pleas. Even if she wanted to let the nightmarish boy stab her in the chest, her mutation would react without her conscious consent. She didn't know what he wanted from her. Instead of punishing Kayla, or throwing his little knife at her, the stranger plucked a small vial from his pocket.

Moving with silent, frightening grace, IX approached her. He opened the vial and held it up to her trembling lips. "Drink." Everything in her demanded she pull away, but Emma's eyes never left the bloody, sobbing form of her beloved sister. Kayla risked everything to save them, and though it hadn't been enough, Emma couldn't bring herself to regret. Better to die now, than to live the rest of her life in that damned cage. Closing her eyes, she drank.

Scott would rather deal with twenty sugar high mutant teenagers in the mall than return to the burned out town, but he hadn't been given a choice. His shoulders ached from the ridged tension that kept his muscles from relaxing, and the dagger sharp pain was slowly crawling up his neck to settle into the base of his skull like a denning wolverine.

His morose thoughts broke when Jean's soft hand reached out to brush the side of his face. "Sorry," he whispered, certain that his clamoring mind was giving her an equally unpleasant headache. Because of their close bond, they'd found it harder for Jean to keep his thoughts out of her head than it was for everyone else. A beautiful smile lit her face at his quiet word. "It's all right, I know this case has been hard for you. We'll find her, and she won't be able to do this to anyone else." Scott knew she couldn't be sure of that, but he took comfort from her words all the same.

In truth, he knew that there was no way a mutant of the woman's power level would remain hidden for long. That was the problem. Would they be able to capture her before she struck again? And if they did catch up to her, how many of the X-Men would burn before she was subdued? They all knew they risked death by protecting the world from the more dangerous elements of their own community, but this mutant got to him more than any other they'd faced. They hadn't even met her yet, and he was already sick with fear over the damage she might do to his family. If she would burn an entire village of people, she wouldn't hesitate to roast us alive.

Even though Scott hated fighting Magneto and his ilk, at least he took comfort in the fact that the metal manipulator rarely killed his fellow mutants. No matter how savage the battles became, they didn't deliberately killed their own. Instinct plucked his nerves, leaving him certain that the one they faced now wouldn't honor that unspoken bond between mutants. No, this one would kill them as easily as she killed everyone else. Scott snorted at his own thoughts, even he couldn't help but think of the world in terms of Us and Them.

"We've reached the burned out area. We'll use that as the central point of our search and scan from the air first to see if we can locate anything of interest," Ororo's husky voice drew Scott out of his ever darkening thoughts and back to the task at hand.

"Sounds like a plan," he replied, his visored gaze taking in the winter landscape.

They flew in ever widening rings. Jean kept her eyes on the monitors, hoping they would pick something up if it was hidden from the air while the other two swept the ground. It took only twenty minutes for them to find the first battle site. A wide swath of the mountain side was covered in old scorch marks. "Was it her?" Jean asked once the jet found a clear place to land.

"No. I don't believe this damage was caused by the same mutant." Ororo's eyes narrowed as she took in the pattern. "In fact, I don't believe it was caused by a mutant at all." Walking forward, she began pointing out the fan pattern. "It looks more like the work of a flame thrower to me. Also, the vegetation was burned, but not turned to ash. The stone wasn't reduced to glass either."

Exasperation flared up in Jean at the words. "What in the world is going on here?"

"Someone died here," the quiet declaration froze both women mid-step. Scott had gone in the opposite direction and now stood at the edge of an old spatter pattern. There was a small burned out crater twenty feet away, and now that they were looking, they could see the rust colored stains intermingled with the scorched black. There wasn't a body, or perhaps pieces of a body would be more appropriate, but the circumference of the stain bore mute witness to a messy death.

"Do you think scavengers…" Jean couldn't finish.

Ororo frowned, her stomach churning even while she continued to look over the site. "No. Look, there are prints." Again she pointed. This time, they saw scuff marks from boots, larger than the prints of their girl, and of a different tread than the one who'd helped her. Silence descended on the small group like an oppressive fist as they set out to document what they could find. Once samples of the blood were collected, and the various prints photographed, they headed back to the jet.

Ice trickled a numb path down her throat, and for that Emma was grateful. She thought the poison would burn, but the cold was almost pleasant. Frosty fingers stretched into her chest, and she gasped when her heart lurched. Terror crashed into her when she felt the beat falter, speed up, and then shutter irregularly. Her frightened blue eyes locked on Kayla's. "I-it doesn't hurt. It's fine. Love you, sis." Emma gasped when she felt her heart give a final painful squeeze before falling still. With her darkening vision, and numbness crawling down her limbs, she took one faltering step towards Kayla's bound form before her strength gave out and the world tilted out from under her.

Time slowed as she fell, and the pain of hitting the ground was a muted distant thing. "Emma? Oh God, Emma! Please, don't do this, please wake up!" Kayla's shrill scream made a little smile tug at her deathly pale lips. You always were the dramatic one, she thought fondly as darkness nibbled at the edges of her vision. Reality slid away from her, and the last thing she saw was the tiny assassin gliding towards her sister. See you on the other side, Kay.

IX slid the now empty vial into his pocked before he turned and stalked towards the now hysterical female bound to the chair. Her desperate pleas had degraded to wordless shrieks after the first collapsed. His face remained expressionless when he turned, now standing behind the wailing woman, to face the silent team. In a move that was difficult for the eye to track, IX gripped Kayla's hair in his left hand and her delicate chin in his right.

The brittle crack of her spine silenced the woman forever and cemented his place on Team-X. He was the blade of the Director, the coldblooded one who would do whatever was required, even kill those who were once allies.

"Note to self: don't let shorty get the drinks." Wade's snarky tone couldn't hide the slight tremble of fear IX's little show inspired. He was a bad guy, and he delighted in the fact. But there was something about the way he'd played the sisters against each other that left him feeling ill. Fuck that, I'll never walk to my own death like a sacrificial goat.

Tilting his head slightly, IX pinned Wade with his dark gaze. He didn't say a word, but the taller man wilted all the same.

A suspicion had been growing in Zero from their first introduction, but it solidified into truth when the head tilt drew his eye to the zig-zagging scar on the youth's forehead. Closing his eyes, he remembered a burned out lot, a tiny blood soaked child whose power felt like a contained storm with tearful jade eyes, and so many bruises that the small scar had almost been lost under the discoloration. That's not possible, it's only been a couple of years since that mission, he reflected, but he couldn't deny the truth of his own eyes. The broken child he'd rescued, and the frozen young man he'd become were one in the same. I was right, they made you strong boy.

No one else on the team was willing to break the oppressive silence. Even Victor's glower was more subdued than normal. He wasn't afraid of the brat, not at all, but he still didn't want those empty orbs to turn his way. The kid was damned creepy, and he couldn't understand what Jimmy saw in him.

"Wraith, give them the tour, then bring them to the medical bay for their exams. When they're finished, show them their bunks. Dukes, take the bodies to the morgue. The rest of you, return to what you were doing," Stryker said, breaking the heavy silence.

"Awww, why does he get to give the grand tour?" Wade pouted.

"I don't want them to kill you because you wouldn't shut up." At first, Wade thought the Major was joking. Then he remembered the man had been born without a sense of humor. His eyes flicked to the cooling corpse on the floor, and for the first time in his life he felt worried about his lack of brain, mouth filter. He was good, but short spokes was better, and there was a better than fair chance his mouth might write a check his ass couldn't cash.

"Er…well I forgot someone ate the last of the cheezy puffs," Wade sent a death glare at Chris, making the technopath flinch. "And there's no way we can live in this cement imitation of hell without the cheezy goodness!" With that, he turned and fled.

Victor scoffed, threw a last bitter glare at X, and stalked out the door without looking back at the dead women. They meant nothing to him, hell he'd done worse for fun when the mood struck him. No, X was the one who'd gotten under his skin. After Vietnam, he'd been offered a place on the team, but he never gave up the search for his little brother. Somewhere along the winding years, the hurt of betrayal turned to bitter hatred. When the tests came back that his body was incompatible with the bonding procedure, Victor had snidely told them about Jimmy.

If he was being honest with himself, Victor never thought they'd catch the runt. He hadn't been able to do it after all, but now he wished he'd kept his mouth shut. What had they done to his brother to turn him into that? Jimmy, no, he wasn't Jimmy any more. Now he was just another one of those damned lab rats who'd been twisted beyond recognition. It wasn't his flesh that had been damaged, but the person beneath the skin. Snarling, he turned and drove his fist into the wall of the empty hallway. Pain splintered up his arm, pulling another growl from his lips. Damn it all, Jimmy was his humanity. He'd always been the softer one. No more. One look into those feral eyes showed Victor a world soaked in blood, and an utter lack of anything resembling humanity. He would kill me, not because of our past, but because that little slip of a boy told him to do it. Pain clawed his heart at the thought. Jimmy had finally become the killer Victor thought he wanted him to be, and only now did he realize that wasn't what he wanted after all.

It took them longer to process the second battle site, mostly because they just couldn't believe the sheer amount of bullets that had been used to pulverize the wilderness. That, and the remains of an avalanche had half buried the area of conflict. Scott scowled, glaring at the control panel while they took aerial photographs of the destruction. "This reeks of military. There's no way a private group would have access to this kind of fire power."

"Agreed." Ororo replied, taking the jet higher to recommence the search. This was the second area of conflict they'd found, but something didn't add up. "Why weren't there any fires? If the military came up against the mutant who attacked the town, why didn't she retaliate?"

Jean rubbed her temple with a tired fingertip to try and sooth the growing ache. "Nothing about this case is adding up. I don't think we'll know what truly went on here until we find the girl." They continued the search in silence for the next half hour, each lost in their own thoughts.

"There!" Jean's voice rose in excitement when she spotted a facility tucked into the side of a mountain. It looked like a government structure, but there were no guards, no movement at all. "I think it's abandoned," she whispered, excitement thrilled in her chest.

The jet landed smoothly in the open area in front of the building. The elation Jean felt at the discovery quickly soured into dread when they saw the mutilated door, and the old blood stains that had been left behind like a demented trail of bread crumbs for them to follow. It took more courage than was pretty to enter the darkened facility. They hadn't gone more than a dozen steps when the muted smell hit them. It wasn't as bad as it would be when summer came, but even in the dead of winter they could smell the corruption.

Scott swallowed hard, every step he took into the place drove a spike of fear into his gut. Closing his eyes, he fought to control the mounting terror. This wasn't the same facility he'd been held hostage at as a teen, but it had the same feel to it, the same oppressiveness that had nothing to do with the growing stench. "Come on," he whispered, licking his lips to try and fight the dryness in his throat. Xavier saved us then, I'm only sorry that we weren't able to save the mutants who'd been taken here. He knew the Professor would have put an end to this place if he'd known of its existence, but even he couldn't know everything.

The only reason he'd been able to rescue Scott and the other children who'd been kidnapped was because one of the girls had been a perspective student the school approached the week before she'd been snatched. Xavier was familiar with her mind, and was able to find her and the rest of them before they were too badly damaged by the scientists. Shaking his head, Scott forced himself to focus on the here and now.

Ororo's stomach lurched when they came across the first orange clad body. Decomposition was well under way, but she could see the almost delicate knife stroke that ended the man's life. Swallowing down the bile that wanted to rise, she knelt and photographed the injury. His body wasn't the last they found. Each one was killed with a single knife wound. Not always in the same place, but always fatal. "A team of assassins?" She questioned. "There are far too many bodies for it to be just one killer. Someone would have sounded an alarm, but all of these people look like they were taken by surprise."

"That's a possibility," Jean agreed. The two women entered a large lab side by side and didn't realize that Scott wasn't following until after they reached the first body. "Scott?" Jean turned, and her heart went out to him when she saw the pained look on his face.

Scott stood in the doorway, frozen. He couldn't stop looking at the medical equipment spread over the football field sized area. Fists clenched, he forced himself to step over the threshold. "I'm fine," he grunted, not expecting either of them to believe him, but knowing they would respect his determination to get through the task they'd been assigned.

Ororo nudged the first body over a bit so that they could see what killed the woman. They all flinched back when they saw her half melted face and the burned out optics where her eyes should have been. It was too much for Jean, and she stumbled away from the group, her lunch spilled from her parted lips in a wash of bitterness and shame. Gentle hands stroked her hair back from her face, holding it away from the mess while her guts churned, rejecting everything she'd eaten that day.

Leaving Scott to provide comfort, Ororo quickly photographed the woman before turning to the older female. A small throwing knife was lodged in the dead woman's throat. It was a cleaner death than the girl's, but dead was dead all the same. Her eyes were drawn up to the bank of computers where an image flickered on the screen. The power hadn't died in the facility, and Ororo went to the key board. She played back the video and felt rage sweep over her with such swiftness that thunder roared outside.

"Storm?" Jean's rough voice questioned.

"They were experimenting on mutants. Look at this." Each word was clipped and hung like frost in the air. Jean and Scott watched the corrupted video, which was mostly just a few jumbled fragments of auto and the one image of a child who had been badly beaten and was now covered in bristling probes. "Weapon IX?" Scott whispered, horror twisting his lips into a shuddering scowl. "They were turning children into weapons? If this boy is the ninth, then our girl could have been a predecessor who escaped. It's possible that another government or terrorist group found out about this place and attacked to gain control of the developing weapons. Come on, let's collect as much information as possible and get out of this tomb." The speech sounded brave, and matter of fact, but he couldn't keep his hands from shaking at the thought of spending any more time in this place. That could have been me, would have been me if Xavier hadn't saved me. Not for the first time, he felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude to the Professor for what he'd done.

"These are the holding pens," Wraith shifted uncomfortably, but continued with the tour of Three Mile Island. He didn't like to look too closely at what he and the rest of the team did, and showing off the captive mutants made a ball of shame throb just below his sternum. It's better to be on this side of the bars, he reasoned. After all, Kayla and Emma just proved the price of attempted escape. While he could jump a good distance, Wraith had no doubt that his power alone wouldn't be enough to keep him safe if the Director wanted him dead.

IX and X took the invitation and walked slowly down the hall between cages. Blank green eyes took in each of the captives, his thoughts already turning to the best way to subdue or destroy each in turn. After killing Subject 129, IX recognized that he would likely be tasked with killing the rest when their time came. The thought didn't bother him, and his aloft demeanor kept the children from begging him for help even though he looked as young as them.

"Traitor," a low hiss drew IX's attention to the snake eyed girl who pressed herself close to the glass. Inhuman eyes locked on his as her dark tongue flicked out to try and taste his scent. IX didn't react to her looks, or the condemnation.

"I am what I am," the soft hiss made Viper rear back as if she'd been slapped.

Wraith cringed when the new mutant began hissing with snake girl. She'd always given him the creeps, and watching someone else talk to her in hisses was just wrong. "Um, well…let's get down to the medical wing. I'm sure the doctor is excited to have a couple new recruits to poke and prod."

IX turned away from the glaring female, not noticing how X slid easily between them, blocking her from view. His lips pealed back in a snarl that made the female step back from the glass. Even a snake wasn't foolish enough to challenge an angry wolverine.

"This way," Wraith lead the pair down the twisting corridors until they reached a brightly lit lab headed by a weedy looking man holding a needle. Wraith took one look at the dark haired doctor before he turned and fled, leaving IX and X to cope on their own.

"Ah, there you are. I was told to expect a pair of new patients today. I'm going to need blood and tissue samples from both of you, and the Major had something special in mind for you."

"Yes, sir." IX replied without flinching. The Professor had run an endless number of tests as well, so he knew what to expect. For the next two and a half hours, they gave their pound of flesh and blood, not to mention the endless battery of tests, scans, and anything else the demented doctor could think of.

"All right, lay face down on the table. Because the two of you are not soldiers, but property, the Major decided you should be branded as such." The doctor was mildly surprised when the boy didn't ask a single question. The larger male watched his every move, but a glance from the boy kept him in check. Humming under his breath, he swabbed the back of IX's neck before preparing the first brand. A low growl trickled from X's lips when the doctor heated the thin strip of metal.

"Stand down." The command sank into him against his will, and X was forced to yield to his little mate's command.

IX closed his eyes and focused. He didn't flinch when the red-hot brand pressed into the flesh at the base of his neck, instead he kept his attention drawn inward. Power welled up inside of him, and he had to hold it back. Be still, heal, but scar. It was difficult to keep his mutation from healing him completely as it always had. The pain of each of the three strikes sank into his flesh, but IX did not allow the external agony to break his focus.

The stench of burned flesh lingered on the air, and the doctor gave a surprised whistle when he watched the three brand strikes instantly heal into neat scars.

IX

"Well that's nifty. Next!" He didn't see X's dark look. IX slipped off the table and motioned for X to take his place.

It only took a moment for the doctor to realize they were going to have a problem. A second after laying the first strike, the wound melted back into his flesh, completely healed. Frowning, he tried again with the same result. Two small hands rested against X's skin leaving just enough space for the brand between them. A soft purring growl slipped from X's lips when he felt the power sink into his flesh. "Try it now." IX's monotone voice commanded. Shrugging, not expecting this time to be any better, the doctor tried the brand again. The burn started to heal, but slowly, leaving behind the same clean scars that IX's neck now bore. With a satisfied grin, as if it had all been his idea, the doctor applied the second strike, leaving a bold X at the base of the weapon's neck.

"All done, off you get."

Slipping off the table, X led the way out of the medical lab. They had just exited when the large male turned and grabbed IX. His rough grip jerked the smaller male's shirt to the side exposing his marred shoulder to X's punishing teeth. IX hung passively in his grip, a low sigh escaped his parted lips when X's tongue began bathing the wound. Strong arms wrapped possessively around his delicate frame, and he didn't fight the hold.

"Well, isn't this sweet," Victor drawled. X's head snapped up, ruby droplets clung to his lips, and stained his snarling teeth. Without ceremony, IX was shoved behind his larger bulk and X took an aggressive step forward. Smirking, Victor held up his hands to show he wasn't armed. "So you do have a soft spot don't you little brother." The weapon didn't respond, and Victor's dark smile grew. He could smell his brother's lust on the air even though the boy's scent remained disinterested. "Come on. Mission time. Now we'll see if the two of you are worth your salt or not."

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