X-Men Forged: Lost Son

by JasonLauchlan

Jason is now an X-Man, and after a harrowing first semester, the next semester throws everything its got at him. From rekindled rivalries to new threats from the shadows, this is all overshadowed by a mysterious figure doting upon Jason, as well as Jason finally finding love. How will Jason deal with the next several months? And will finally Jason find out his mysterious origins?

5. Chapter 4: Survival

CHAPTER 4: Survival

Undisclosed Location

Lady Deathstrike couldn't say she was a patient woman, but when someone offers you to do something you've always wanted to do—however cryptically—you wait. Still, waiting in a dilapidated warehouse in the middle nowhere was not something she cared to do, and the winter air had no problem chilling both the inside of this place as well as the adamantium-lined skeleton she had, not to mention the rest of her implants.

She heard a caw from above, and saw a large black raven descend into the warehouse. Most would have found the raven's entrance unremarkable, but Lady Deathstrike could tell that this was no mere raven. "It's rude to keep a girl waiting…"

The raven blinked at her, and then transfigured into a lithe woman with long auburn hair and flesh as blue as a winter sea. "You're uncharacteristically early, Deathstrike," said the oily-voiced Mystique.

"What can I say?" Lady Deathstrike said. "I've nothing better to do."

"I can change that for you, if you're interested in my proposal…"

"The way you made it sound initially, it already is tempting."

"Oh, you haven't heard the half of it," Mystique smiled.

"Then continue. It's a detestable idiom, but as the Americans say, I'm all ears."

"I have something I need inside the Xavier Institute. What precisely is of no concern, but I must have it."

Lady Deathstrike placed her hands on her hips. "Well, well, growing ambitious, aren't we, Raven?"

"Ambition is simply to drive to do what needs to be done, and that's what I'm going to do."

"And what is that, exactly?"

"I require some data, and that's all you need to know."

"Well, that's not very motivational for me, now is it?"

"That's because you didn't hear your benefit in all this, for I'm sure I know what's in there that you would desire."

Lady Deathstrike leaned back and crossed her arms. "You truly are presumptuous enough to presume you know what I would desire most in that archaic monstrosity of a house."

Mystique did not seem intimidated. "It takes extraordinarily little imagination to deduce, Oyama. I'm aware of your unfortunate dealings with the former Weapon X program this past year—"

Like a viper striking out at its prey, Deathstrike's claws shot out towards Mystique's exposed neck, but stopped just shy of her pharynx. "You should value your tongue more, Raven, or else you might lose it," Deathstrike hissed.

"Touchy subject, I see," Mystique said unflinchingly. "My intent was not to aggravate, but to promise."

Deathstrike glared at Mystique silently, and then withdrew her claws. "Promise what?"

"In exchange for the data, you get to paint your claws with the blood of he who left you for dead."

A twinkle of delight shot from Deathstrike's steely eyes as the corners of her mouth rose in a deadly smile. "You truly know how to speak to a girl's heart."

"I thought you might like that."

"I have to say I'm surprised. Not even a year ago, you were so against me slicing up the boy. Why the change of heart? Or rather, why the change of Magnus' heart?"

It was Mystique's turn to scowl. "I have no interest in the machinations of Magneto. Whatever his concerns are with the boy are of no concern to me anymore."

"Indeed?" Deathstrike looked curious. "What befell between you and he?"

"Now it is you to speak too much, Oyama," Mystique said. "It is none of your business."

"If you insist."

"Then we are agreed?"

"Not so fast, Raven. There is still the matter of method to discuss, not to mention dealing with the proprietor of that tragedy of an estate."

"Have a little faith, Oyama," Mystique said, smiling. "I already have set it all in motion."

XXXXXXXXXX

Stokes County Maximum Security Facility, Upstate New York – January 21st, 2012 – 2:14 AM

A dozing guard say in front of the monitoring station on a quiet winter night. The last few months had been quiet, and the inmates seemed relatively cooperative. Back in previous year's November, an infiltrator had broken in, wakened the slumbering Juggernaut, and had escaped as the Juggernaut plowed through every pacifying obstacle that stood against him. It had taken the combined efforts of Iron Man and the X-Men to contain Juggernaut once again, and a disquieting peace had reigned in the prison ever since.

The warden of the facility knew the full truth about what Juggernaut is, as did the guards. Despite latent prejudices, the warden had maintained Professor Xavier's need for secrecy of mutant existence in this part of the world, despite the growing awareness around the rest of the world. If there was any dissent among the guards, it was quickly silenced by the will of S.H.I.E.L.D. and the scrutinizing eye—literally and figuratively—of its director, Nick Fury. If anything leaked, S.H.I.E.L.D. would be on it like maggots to a corpse, and it was that virtual fear of God that kept the secret of mutants, in this part of the world anyway, safe.

The dozy guard had sunken into a full fledge sleep as the witching hour approached, and while the guards didn't believe in the supernatural, a latent superstition remained of bad luck at this time of night. He was so deep in sleep that he didn't notice a computer screen notifying him of an anomaly in the security system, particularly the one monitoring the stasis tank that contained the hulking Juggernaut. The anomaly quickly turned into multiplying malfunctions, until finally, a red alert sounded.

The guard snapped awake, nearly falling backwards over his chair. Recovering, his eyes shot around until he saw the multiplying security failures. Hissing a curse, he called the warden.

Had the warden been a teleporter, he would have arrived at the maximum-security level scarce faster. When he arrived, several staff were already assessing the damage. One guard quickly joined him at his side. "Sir, a major power surge has knocked out System One through Three. Systems Four through Seven are close to failure, and Systems Eight through Ten are holding but we fear a failure is imminent.

A muscle jumped in the warden's jaw. "Initiate Protocol Black. Under no circumstance can we allow the Juggernaut to awaken!"

"Sir!" He responded in compliance.

A hiss beckoned the rising containment pod, and the warden watched tensely as the form of Juggernaut, chained down and submerged into cellular neuroparalytic biofluid, rise with it. The failsafe program forced the pod to rise out from beneath the floor to avoid a terrible death by drowning should there be a complete power loss, although few would blame anyone if the occupant drowned at all.

The guard quickly made manual adjustments to the containment valves, causing the fluid to back up into itself. While not a particularly clean protocol, it would keep the contained prisoner pacified for almost an entire day, buying time for a more permanent solution to be implemented. It was a lot of work to get all eight valves closed to prevent cycling of the biofluid, but once it was completed, the biofluid would stay for as long as it was strong, but over time, the biofluid loses its effectiveness, which makes a fix all the more urgent.

Finally, the valves were closed, and the guard reported that Protocol Black was a success.

"Very good," the warden said, although he didn't sound assured. "Begin necessary repairs to all systems immediately. I want around-the-clock maintenance on this until the systems are back to normal. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!"

"In the meantime…," he sighed. "…I need to make a call to Director Fury."

XXXXXXXXXX

Xavier Institute for Gifted Children – 3:04 AM

"X-Men, I apologize for the late hour, but your presence is urgently needed in the study. Please be swift."

Jason had been trying to enjoy as much a sleep as he could when the Professor's mental summons awakened him. He at once bolted awake; he felt the urgency of the Professor's summons well and knew that he needed to get up and ready quickly. He looked at Piotr as he did, who had also bolted awake. They both locked eyes as Piotr spoke. "What is going on?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, Peter," Jason said. "We should get dressed quickly and find out. It sounds like the rest of the school, or some of them anyway, are already getting up and going."

Piotr nodded and pulled on some sweatpants.

Jason had already pulled on a tank top and fruitlessly tried to tame his hair as he stumbled out the door and into the hallway. Piotr followed him out, and they were joined by other senior students at the Institute, each equally tired and confused as the next.

In due time, the X-Men had gathered in the Professor's study, and he was already there waiting for them alongside Hank McCoy, both already fully dressed.

Scott rubbed his eyes behind his ruby-quartz glasses. "What's wrong, Professor?"

"I once again apologize for the late hour, but I've just received a troubling phone call from Director Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D."

Jason looked at Piotr. They had a brief meeting with the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. when they returned Juggernaut's unconscious form to the Stokes County Maximum Security Facility months ago, and Jason had somehow earned an intense one-eyed look from him, and Jason could only guess why. "What did he want?" Jason asked.

"Fury had received word that Cain's containment unit deep within Stokes Max-Sec is beginning to fail."

"Juggernaut?" Kurt exclaimed. "He's loose again?"

"No, thankfully," the Professor said. "but the containment unit is badly malfunctioning for reasons unknown."

"All right," Scott said, at once taking charge. "We'll be suited up in five, Professor."

"That won't be necessary, Scott, but I appreciate your valor," the Professor said. "Hank and I will be going there alone. The containment unit is currently functioning at stable albeit impaired compacity, so we will be going there tonight to assist with repairs. However, this admittedly leaves me in a dilemma: with Logan out on the open road, and Ororo visiting friends in Wakanda, this will leave the Institute unsupervised."

"The system requires two simultaneous users to repair it, so therefore, I must go as well," Hank said.

"Therefore, I have no choice but to leave Scott and Jean in charge in our absence as they are the most senior members of the student body. The rest of you also share responsibility to maintain the safety and security of this Institute. I'm placing my trust in all of you. Can I count on you?"

"Without a doubt, Professor," Scott said.

"We'll hold down the fort while you are away," Jean said. "Just worry about your brother."

"We'll see it done, Professor," Jason said.

The others chorused their own affirmations to the Professor, who seemed pleased. "Thank you all. I know this isn't a typical assignment, but it's just as important as any mission you've faced before, so take this just as seriously."

"We will be, Professor," Piotr said.

"Thank you, Piotr, and the rest of you. Hank and I must disembark immediately. If there is no further incident, we will see you Saturday morning. Thank you again, and farewell."

The Professor and Hank left the rest of the X-Men alone in the study. Scott stretched his shoulders. "Well, now that we're all up, how does a round or two of Danger Room warmups sound?"

"Go to hell, Scott," Rogue said, scowling. The other X-Men looked just as irritated.

"Hey, is that anyway to reply to the ones in charge?"

"Scott," Jean said warningly. "the Professor said to take this seriously, so don't start a power trip while he's away, 'Professor S'."

"Jean may not play fair," Jason said. "but she's repping the majority here. It's back to bed. Knock yourself out."

The rest of the students made their way towards their respective rooms, and Scott sighed, which turned into a yawn. "Ok, fine, I guess it's a democracy now…"

"Damn straight it is!" Jason exclaimed.

"Like not so loud, Jason," Kitty said. "You want to totally wake up the rest of the institute?"

"Sorry…"

XXXXXXXXXX

Bayville High School – 10:49 AM

"I'm actually quite impressed, Miss Pryde," said Algebra teacher Ms. Genco. "Normally, our students can program quadratic equation functions into their graphic calculators without burning out their internal processors. You, Miss Pryde, have managed to burn out three of them."

A chortle ran around the room at the admittedly epic failure displayed by Kitty, who sat slightly despondently at her desk in front of three nonfunctioning graphic calculators.

"I'm totally sorry, Ms. Genco," Kitty apologized. "I didn't get a good sleep last night, and it's been hard to focus."

"Well, for the sake of the remaining calculators, I hope you at least understand the material enough to try again under better circumstances, warranties notwithstanding."

"Thanks, Ms. Genco."

The bell rang, sparing Kitty further embarrassment.

"Don't forget to have questions 1-30 complete in your chapter review for Monday, class!" Ms. Genco said over the bell. "These types of questions will be on your test the same day, so please study this weekend!"

The class moaned as they remembered an algebra test coming up, all the while returning their books and notebooks to their backpacks. Kitty tried her best to avoid further embarrassment by being careful and deliberate. It was far too often that she would trip over her own feet. She was out in the halls and on the way to her locker when a girl with raven-dark hair with violet-streaks in it came running towards her. "Hey, Kitty! How are you?"

"Oh, besides the normal embarrassment in Algebra, nothing at all."

"That bad, huh?"

"Totally. How about you, Risty?"

"The normal bullocks, sadly. I could use a fun weekend after today. Have you heard anything?"

"Nothing," Kitty said. "I've kept my ear to the ground, but zilch, the party circuit is totally dry. There's not a thing going on. Probably has everything to do with all these assignments and tests all happening at once. I just got a big chapter review to finish for Algebra on top of a test right after. Tests on Monday should totally be against the law!"

"You too?" Risty said. "I was with Rogue in Drama class. She told me she had a Geometry examination Monday as well, as well as an essay to write in U.S. History."

"Blech, it sounds like our weekend is going to be in the no-fun zone, and I'm like already spazzing out as it is! I have no earthly idea how I'm going to survive it."

Risty brightened. "Hey, I have an idea! How about we get together tonight and have a study group? It sounds like everyone is going to have their hands full with assignments, so let's get together and help each other out! Might speed things up so we can have at least some fun over the weekend. What do you say, girl?"

Kitty looked thoughtful. "That might totally work!"

"But where would we have it? The library is closed this Saturday, and the place I'm staying at is too small to host everyone. I assume we'd invite the rest of your Institute friends because they're likely in the same boat as we are."

"The Institute…" Kitty repeatedly thoughtfully.

"What's that, girl?" Risty asked.

"I think we have a location!"

XXXXXXXXXX

Jean was in the hallway, looking over the tryout announcements for the girls' soccer team on the hall billboard. She was already in basketball, but she liked to keep herself busy. It was something she always did ever since coming to the Institute, because not doing anything constructive often allowed her mind to go back to memories she'd rather stay buried. Honestly, she didn't remember too much of her childhood, nor too much of how she got her powers, but what she did know was that it must be terrible because she was found in an asylum by Professor Xavier. All she could remember was constantly hearing every thought within a twenty-mile radius, or so it felt. It was so maddening that she was regularly sedated and bound in restraints.

She spent long enough there that she hated sitting in one place too long if something wasn't occupying her time, so she often dived into extracurricular activities. If there wasn't anything going on, she often dived into a book or went out on the town either by herself or with others at the Institute. Doing nothing at the Institute wasn't an option. She didn't say so to the Professor, but inwardly, she was dreading staying at the Institute tonight since Scott and her were in charge, but hopefully it wouldn't be too bad. She had a lot of studying to do as some assignments seemed to be due too close to each other.

After gleaning what she needed from the billboard, she walked away and was about to the cafeteria, when something caught her ear: it sounded like her friend Taryn…sweet-talking Scott? She peered around the corner and found exactly what she thought she heard. Scott was leaning against his locker, and Taryn was standing close to him…

…really close to him.

She was close enough to eavesdrop, and so she listened intently, ignoring her personal cricket that eavesdropping was wrong.

"Come on, Scott…" Taryn said. "Can I just have one peek at what's behind those glasses?"

"Taryn, it's not really a good idea. I do have an eye condition—"

"Yes, I know, but what's the harm with just one peek? I understand more if we were outside in the sun, but inside too?"

Scott looked a little uncomfortable. "I-I really shouldn't. It's treatable, sure, but not…curable. Even a little bit of light could really damage my eyesight further. Not to mention, I'm sure my eyes aren't fun to look at."

Taryn seemed to pout. "Aww, you're no fun. I'm sure your eyes are lovely like you. Maybe they're green…or even hazel?"

Scott nervously smiled. "More like beet red. I've been staying up late more than I should lately trying to study."

Taryn seemed to relax at that. "Mmm, good point. We have been saddled with homework a lot lately. It's really cutting into the time I get to hang out with you. It's been two weeks, Scott. When's our next date?"

Jean bristled but managed to calm herself down as Scott answered. "I hate to say it won't be this weekend, but I'm stuck doing homework and babysitting."

Taryn pouted, but relented. "That's what I get for dating such a caring, selfless guy. Don't worry, I'll be fine, but you owe me a date…and maybe I'll finally learn all your secrets. I gotta go, but text me?"

"Yeah, I will…sorry, Taryn."

Taryn smiled. "Don't be! You're too sweet to be mad at anyway…"

Scott smiled. "Don't worry, I'll make it up to you."

"I heard a promise!" Taryn said. "I'll see you later, Scott!"

"Yeah, you too…"

Jean watched Taryn walk away as Scott finished putting books into his locker and head towards the cafeteria and away from where Jean was eavesdropping. How did this happen? Scott and Taryn? Sure, she spotted them together at the fun center a couple weeks ago, but they were now an item? How could Scott do this? Didn't Scott know how much he meant to her? Sure, she was dating Duncan herself, something about Scott dating someone else infuriated her. But why? She shouldn't be jealous since she was dating someone else, so why be bitter? Scott deserved happiness too…but couldn't it be different between Scott and herself?

She looked on after Scott, who was advancing further down the hall, completely unaware of his audience. Jean felt like she had to do something, but what could she do?

"Who are we looking at?" someone whispered behind her.

Jean screamed as she spun around, finding an equally alarmed Jason jumping back almost into the wall behind him. "Jason! What are you doing?!"

Jason sputtered. "W-what? Me?!"

Jean didn't wait for an answer. "How long were you there?!"

"I was on my way to the cafeteria and saw y—" Jason stopped himself. "Why am I trying to explain myself? Why are you so nervous? How long were you here?"

Jean wasn't prepared for Jason batting back her question and stammered herself. "What? Me? I wasn't spying on anyone!"

Jason blinked. "I didn't say anything about spy—" Jason cut himself off again, and a look of realization started to glow on his face. "Wait a minute…you were spying!"

"I was not!" Jean lied.

Jason looked skeptical, as he looked down the hallway towards the cafeteria. "Uh huh, and I suppose that slowing shrinking form of Scott Summers has nothing to do with it? Call me crazy—and I'm sure you might—but you're not jealous of Scott for some reason, are you?"

"What?!" Jean practically shrieked, causing Jason to wince. Jean recomposed herself as she continued in denial. "Jealous? I am so sure, Jason. You have some nerve!"

"Oh, I have some nerve?" Jason said, raising his voice slightly. "Ha!"

Jean pushed a finger painfully into Jason's sternum. "Listen here, Jason Dean Downs. It's none of your business what I'm doing. You have no authority to lecture me about my relationship with Scott or with anyone, especially with you having secrets of your own."

Jason flushed, both from the pain in his chest and the implications. "What's that supposed to mean?!"

Jean couldn't stop herself. "It means I know that you're gay."

Jason paled. "W-what?! I'm no—what the hell gave you that idea?!"

Jean looked unconvinced. "It doesn't take a psychic to know, Jason. It's written all over your face. I've seen the way you look at P—"

"STOP IT!" Jason screamed, startling Jean enough to back away and remove her finger from Jason's chest. Jean felt brainwaves of confusion, anger, embarrassment, and terror rush through every thought in Jason's head, and even flashbacks to the day Jason had called Jean-Paul a nasty word because he made the implication that she was more direct about. Jean realized that she had just done a terrible thing, but before she could even apologize, Jason spoke first. "I don't care what's going on between you and Scott, and to be fucking frank, I don't give a shit, but you had no fucking right! You have no idea what you're talking about! None!" Jason stormed off, brushing past Jean forcefully and leaving a silent Jean alone.

Jean knew she messed up. Jason had caught her off guard and she retaliated with very private information, even if Jason denied it vehemently. She knew the truth of course, but that wasn't what mattered. She invaded Jason's privacy in retaliation to him simply being curious at what she was doing herself. Nothing excused what she had done, and she knew that she would have to find him and apologize later. She couldn't do it now, because Jason was far from rational right now, and he needed to cool off.

Jason was right about one thing. She was jealous of Scott, and she knew she shouldn't be for many reasons, and yet, that recognition of it did not quell it. That only made her feel worse, and right now, nothing could be done to both banish her jealously and quell the guilt inside her heart. All she could do now was just get through the rest of the day, starting with an unsatisfying meal at the school cafeteria. She could hope that the Professor was having a better day than she was.

XXXXXXXXXX

"A study group? That sounds fun…only not."

Kurt was just voicing his supportive opinions of Kitty's idea to host a study group, almost immediately after she shared it with Kurt, Rogue and Piotr. Rogue looked like she didn't even want to be here, and the main reason she was because she had been cornered by Kitty and practically dragged to this table.

"Come on, Kurt!" Kitty said. "We have like a literal mountain of homework to do, and if we want to have a prayer of having fun this weekend, we gotta get it out of the way as soon as possible, you know?"

"I am thinking it is good idea," Piotr said.

"You're not just saying that because you like Kitty, do you?" Kurt said teasingly.

Piotr looked confused at the implications. "Of course I am liking 'Yekaterina'. She is good friend. I cannot be not liking her."

"That's not what he meant, Peter," Kitty said, stifling a giggle. "But that was totally sweet of you to say."

Piotr smiled, blushing slightly and not seeing Kurt shake his head.

"All right, leave Peter alone," Rogue said. "Are we done here?"

"No!" Kitty said. "We haven't even agreed to have it yet! Risty and I were just talking about it, and she suggested it, and I totally think she's right. If we don't, we'll be stuck doing homework all weekend! Like, ew!"

Kurt sighed. "You have a point, Kitty. I've got so much homework to do as well."

"Yeah, Risty and I are in the same classes and she's not lying about the homework," Rogue conceded. "Maybe a study group is a good idea."

"Then it's settled!" Kitty said. "We got our weekend in the bag now!"

"Reality check, Kitty," Rogue said. "Have you talked to Scott and Jean? They're in charge, remember?"

Kitty deflated. "Oh, yeah…"

"I am thinking they will be allowing it if you are asking them, Kitty."

"I totally appreciate the vote of confidence, Peter," Kitty said. "It's not that, though. Scott and I aren't in the same classes or even the same grade, and we usually only meet up at lunch of after school, and I haven't seen either of them all day! Kurt, can you help me look real fast?"

"Sure!" Kurt said.

"Great! Rogue?"

"I'll pass. I'm not the 'finding-people-to-talk' kind of person."

Kitty rolled her eyes. Rogue was just being Rogue. "Whatever. Peter?"

Piotr looked a little surprised at being addressed again. "Oh…uh…I am waiting for Jason to come. I am not seeing him here yet."

Kitty and Kurt looked at each other. "Hey, he's right," Kurt said. "Jason is usually here, but he's not."

Kitty looked around briefly. "I don't see him either. I'm sure he's ok though, you know?"

Piotr nodded. "I am hoping so."

Kitty looked around again. "Oh, wait! I see Jean! Of course, she was with Duncan; duh, Kitty! I'll go ask her now."

Kitty and Kurt left Piotr and Rogue alone at the table, a fact of which Rogue seemed quite receptive. "Thank goodness that's over. No offense, Peter, but Kitty's energy can be a little grating sometimes. It's even worse rooming with her."

Piotr wasn't sure how to respond to that, partially because he was distracted. He simply nodded politely.

Rogue noticed Piotr's mind was elsewhere, and she took an educated guess where. "I'm sure he's fine, Peter. Jason probably is just on an errand for a teacher or something."

Piotr looked at Rogue, feeling a little reassured. "You are probably right."

Rogue noticed something about the way Piotr looked when he was thinking about Jason. "Wow, you really care for him as a friend, do you?"

Piotr looked a little surprised at that deduction. "Of course, I do. He is my best friend."

Rogue wasn't entirely convinced, but she knew better than to dig deeper. "Yeah, I know," Rogue said. "Jason is a great guy, and I'm sure he thinks you're a great friend too."

Piotr nodded, but something about the way he did only affirmed to Rogue that there was something else going on. "Peter, are you ok?"

Piotr didn't move this time. "I am just thinking…"

"About Jason?" Rogue didn't mean for that to slip out, and when Piotr looked away, she felt compelled to apologize. "I'm sorry, Peter, I didn't mean—"

Piotr interrupted her. "No, you are right, Rogue. I am thinking about Jason."

Rogue wasn't sure how to respond to that, and eventually thought against speaking up at all. Piotr was generally a quiet person, contrasting his looming stature. He only spoke when he felt he should, probably a part of his Russian upbringing. She learned the best thing to do is just wait for him to speak up when he was good and ready.

"Rogue?" Piotr said.

"Yeah?"

"Can I be asking you something?"

Rogue felt her usual guarded snark about to say something for her, but Piotr didn't deserve her sarcasm. It drove her nuts sometimes, but Piotr was just too nice of a guy to be snarky towards. Suppressing her normal attitude, she answered. "Like what?"

Piotr sighed a little bit, as if what he was about to say could shatter the world around them. Slowly and deliberately, he finally spoke. "I…I am thinking…that I am really liking Jason."

Rogue had to slowly digest what Piotr had said. Piotr's speech patterns and dialect often left a lot lost to translation to those unfamiliar to it, and even now, Rogue had to slow down her thoughts to properly understand what Piotr had said. When she finally did, she couldn't really say she was surprised. Still, the fact that Piotr was opening up about his feelings was a big deal, since he was so shy and reserved. "You mean…like really like him? Like more than a friend?" Rogue lowered her voice enough so no one could overhear them.

Piotr nodded, and Rogue could tell how sincere he was in his feelings.

"Wow…" was all Rogue could say.

Piotr felt the compulsion to clam up as usual, but the door was already open and the flood of feelings behind it was stronger. Rogue was almost just as socially introverted as he was, so he felt like he could trust her with something like this because she might understand the need for secrecy. "I am believing I am in love with him."

Rogue could see tears starting to rim Piotr's eyes. "Whoa, big guy…do you want to talk about this later or something?"

Piotr shook his head. "I am all right. I am just…feeling confused."

"Why?"

"In Russia, it is…strange for a man to love another man, and things that are being strange are not being liked."

Rogue got the idea. While officially Russia had decriminalized such an attraction, it was still socially seen as perverse. "I'm sorry to hear that, but it's a little different here though." Rogue knew what she said was more-or-less true, although that depended on where you lived in the States. New York was pretty safe, she reasoned, but her home-state of Mississippi was likely another story.

"You are right. America is wonderful country. Russia is wonderful too, but—"

"It could be better," Rogue finished. "Honestly, you could say the same about America. After all, we still have to hide that were you-know-what's."

"Da, but I am having hope, like Professor says."

Rogue nodded but tried to focus on the subject at hand. "So, does Jason know?"

Piotr's face grew sad. "No."

"Why not?"

Piotr looked increasingly uncomfortable, but he knew he had to be honest. "I am afraid."

"Why?"

"I am feeling afraid that he is not feeling the same way."

Rogue had to admit that she knew how Piotr felt. She had a secret crush on Scott Summers, and two reasons kept her from telling Scott about it: fear of rejection and her issue of harming anyone whom she touched with her bare skin. She herself had not confided in anyone about those feelings, partially due to her own reservations, least of all Scott. Because of that, she felt like she had no authority to assure Piotr, mainly due to her own identical problem; however, unlike Scott, she felt that she knew Jason better. Jason may be reserved with his feelings a lot of the time, but when he was ready to talk about them, he would. Lately, Jason was more open with them, particularly after the Asteroid M incident. Also, among the rest of the Institute students, Jason was the only one that didn't seem to internally fear Rogue's abilities, even requesting her to use them on him on one occasion. Knowing as much as she knew about him, she felt that Jason wouldn't scorn Piotr since Jason and Piotr were best friends for all intents and purposes. At the very worst, he would let Piotr down gently. "Have you thought about talking to him about it yet?"

Piotr shook his head, and Rogue knew the answer before Piotr even responded. Piotr was a gentle soul and did not like speaking unless either invited or felt need enough to speak. Piotr often needed a push to do anything outside his comfort zone. "Well, we're both friends with Jason. Do you think Jason would be mean to you about it?"

Piotr's eyes danced back-and-forth in thought. On one hand, there was Jason's outburst in the cave, particularly the choice of a certain word against a mutual friend of theirs. On the other hand, Jason was remorseful for weeks after that unfortunate incident, and tried extremely hard to amend for it. There was even Piotr's slip of the lip weeks before, and Jason quickly acted on behalf of Piotr's wellbeing, promising not only to be Piotr's friend no matter what, but also guarded Piotr's secret himself. Piotr had not told anyone else besides Jason—however unintentionally—and Rogue. "No…Jason is very kind."

Rogue was about to ask Piotr why he shouldn't ask Jason about it, but she felt like she would have to answer that question herself, and she had way too many reasons although they sounded more and more like excuses. She sighed, keeping her own turmoil to herself as she replied to Piotr. "Listen, I know I don't have a place to say anything about this…but Jason has proven time and time again that he is our friend. Sure, he can be grouchy at times, but he always pulls through. You trust him, right?"

Piotr looked at Rogue. "Da, I do."

"Well, what's the worst that can happen?"

Piotr looked torn between himself and his fears. Rogue spoke what his rational side had already been saying. Truthfully, he had been developing feelings for his roommate and best friend for months, ever since they first met. While he had known he was attracted to men since he was fourteen, he never truly acted upon it mainly due to fear of discovery in his home country. Even during his time as one of Magneto's Acolytes, he kept his sexuality a secret due to his resistance to trusting his own teammates at the time. Now as an X-Man, he found himself facing those feelings again, and Jason brought them to the surface unknowingly. The fondness he felt when he first met Jason had grown into a genuine longing to mature their relationship beyond what it is now.

"You are right." When Piotr admitted that out loud, his heart immediately began to race. Rubbing his mouth, he looked around and noticed that Jason had still not materialized for the lunch hour. "I am wondering where he is…"

Rogue looked around. It was a little odd that Jason wasn't around. "I guess something really did hold him up. Is he in your next class?"

Piotr nodded. "Da. It is Chemistry class."

"Well, if he doesn't show up there, then I would worry."

Piotr felt slightly assured, yet there was a part of his heart that told him that Jason wasn't held up by something as menial as a task for a teacher, but something more serious. He hoped he was wrong.

XXXXXXXXXX

After storming off, Jason had stumbled his way into the empty weight room, not realizing where he was headed. He was fuming because of Jean's invasion of his privacy, and he needed to punch something. Thank goodness there was a punching bag here. He spent most of the lunch hour wailing into the bag, every punch and kick fueling his rage. He knew Jean was simply angry about his own snooping, and in her own anger caught Jason off guard with his own issues, but that didn't justify anything. Jean was in the wrong, and that was a fact.

As his stamina began to wane, so did his rage, but a new emotion took over. Hot tears streamed from his eyes as he braced himself against an adjacent wall and slid down it to the floor. For the last month, Jason had been wrestling with his own feelings and insecurities that were revealed to him as he thought he lay dying inside Asteroid M. The revelation brought both clarity and confusion ironically, as his own feelings were confirmed, only to invite a confluence of confusion and doubt. Despite being unconscious at the time, he realized that he had a deeper affection with Piotr than he had considered in waking hours, and it was partly thrilling and terrifying. He hadn't sat down and considered these feelings since that revelation, and to face them now brought emotions forth that shamed him. All he could do was beat an already-senseless form to the point of senselessness if that were possible.

"Jason, what the hell happened?"

Jason jumped at a familiar voice and saw his friend Jean-Paul looking down at him, quite concerned at Jason's state. Jason instinctively turned away to hide his tears, all the while sharply inhaling. "I-I'm sorry, Jean-Paul. I'm having a moment."

"Another one, you mean," Jean-Paul quipped, but quickly grew serious. "What happened?"

Jason almost impulsively answered dismissively, even though it would clearly be a lie. There was no hiding his shame and anger, and if anyone could understand, Jean-Paul could. "Do you have time?"

"As much time as you need. We're not in danger of being late for class, although I'm sure we could make a case if that did happen."

Jason choked out a laugh, but his emotions squashed down the levity just as quickly. "You might want to sit down then."

Jean-Paul sat down next to Jason. "Is here ok?"

Jason nodded as his mind tried to make his feelings coherent. He wanted to just blurt it all out, but it would only sound like he was rambling. He knew Jean-Paul was being extremely patient right now, and Jason had to laud him for that. Sighing several times, his thoughts finally started to organize themselves to make a coherent tale. "I ran into Jean today."

Jean-Paul had to sigh. "What did Ms. Nosy do this time?"

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Jason had to look puzzledly at Jean-Paul. "Do people call her that?"

"Not that I know of. Listen, I know she's a friend of yours, but something about her makes my skin crawl, like she just knows everything about you even if she doesn't ask. She just has that aura of nosiness. You don't think so?"

Jason had to chuckle. "Actually, that's one reason why I'm here. I caught her snooping on…well, it doesn't matter who. Anyway, we had an argument and she said something about me that I didn't want to hear, even if—" Jason gulped here. This was the part that drove him to beat the "life" out of the punching bag, because he wasn't ready to face it himself.

"Even if what?" Jean-Paul asked.

Jason sighed. "Even if she was right. I told her she was wrong, but that was because I was pissed about her calling me out after catching her off guard herself."

Jean-Paul looked puzzled. "Well, it must have been a real whopper of a truth bomb to get you so bothered."

"You can say that again," Jason said. "What's worse is that I haven't even faced the truth myself, and that's what's got me messed up."

"Ooh, that definitely does sound heavy," Jean-Paul said. "Are you comfortable talking about it? I don't want to pressure you."

"No, no, you're fine," Jason said, trying to still his racing heart. He was terrified about what he was about to say, but he had come this far. "If anything, after what happened last time, you deserve to know the truth."

Jean-Paul blinked in surprise. "Really? About what?"

Jason sighed. This was it. "Jean-Paul…" Jason found his mouth drying up and had to swallow the rocks in his throat to continue. Even if his body was trying to tell him not to say it, he knew he had to. "Jean-Paul…" he began hoarsely. "…I'm think I'm gay."

Jason dared to look at Jean-Paul, and saw him smiling, leaning his head back against the wall. "I knew it! I fucking knew it!"

Jason had to smile. He expected Jean-Paul to be accepting due to the fact Jean-Paul was gay himself, but the monumental step was facing the truth, and that's what Jason felt liberating.

Jean-Paul threw an arm around Jason's shoulders. "Welcome to the club, Jason. Your free toaster will be in the mail."

Jason had to chuckle. "Well, that's fine and all, but honestly, telling you is the easy part."

"Don't take this the wrong way, Jason, but I had a feeling about you since the cave actually."

That surprised Jason. "Really?"

"You were pretty standoff-ish if you remember, and when I tried to break the tension by sharing more details about my life, you actually cut me off when I talked about me being gay myself. I thought for a little while that you were homophobic—obviously, we figured that wasn't the case later—because of that. I don't know if you know this, but the most homophobic people usually are gay themselves. Just look at the more asshole Republicans."

That got a laugh from Jason. "Yeah, especially from my area in the country."

"Not judging, just saying. Anyway, I had a lingering suspicion since then."

"Well, I hate to burst your bubble, Jean-Paul, but that still wasn't the reason I was in a bad mood back then. I can't say I'm quite ready to tell you why just yet still, but thanks for hearing me out about this anyway."

"Anytime. We are friends, after all."

Jason smiled. In the cave, Jason made the claim that they weren't friends while feeling angry and resentful, and Jean-Paul was a convenient target. After Jason apologized for that and more, Jason definitely tried harder to recognize the friends he does have. "Yeah, we are."

"So if you don't mind me asking, why do you think you are?"

Jason thought hard at how to present it. He couldn't say exactly how since it involved being unconscious inside a based carved out of a falling asteroid, but a small grain of the truth should be enough. "I don't mind, but it's a lot to take in. I still haven't yet quite pieced it all together myself. It was before Christmas though."

"This last Christmas?"

"Yeah."

"Wow, not very long then."

Jason shrugged. "It feels like a long time though. It's been on my mind these last few weeks and it just kept buzzing here louder and louder." Jason emphasized his point by pointing to his head. "Before that, I thought I always liked girls."

"Well, technically, liking girls and liking boys doesn't have to be mutually exclusive, you know." Jean-Paul said.

"I wouldn't know, but I suppose that can be true. I've just never been with one before. Anyway, I had this dream—don't get too freaked out about this—but I think I was dreaming that I was dying."

Jean-Paul gulped. "Ooh, that doesn't sound nice."

"No, it doesn't; honestly, I haven't yet figured it out still. Anyway, I wasn't scared, and that was the weird part. It was like my mind was telling me it was fine to let go. I felt like my parents back home will be fine, so would my friends and I 'saw'—" Jason made quotation gestures with his fingers. "—each of them kind of fly by my eyes, if you will, and at one point…" Jason paused, realizing that he was almost about to spill more than he intended, and he wasn't ready to tell Jean-Paul that his heart beat hard for their mutual friend, Piotr. "…I finally became honest with myself, I guess."

"No offense, but it's a little weird that you're just discovering it now. Maybe you just didn't think about it because the right guy didn't cross your path."

"Maybe," Jason conceded. "Kind of a moot point though."

"Fair enough. So, because of that, you think you're gay?"

Jason shrugged. "I guess there's more to it than that, but honestly, I'm still not quite ready to reveal everything. This is just a whole new thing that I still haven't properly digested and I'm still trying to understand it myself."

"If you don't mind, mind if I ask you a couple questions?"

Jason looked at Jean-Paul. "I suppose."

"Do you think you're gay because you're suddenly realizing that guys are nice to look at, or is it one in particular that you're falling for?"

Jason blinked in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that it's possible that you're more attracted to the person than rather the body, if you get my meaning. It's one thing to be attracted to a body, but it's another thing to be attracted to a soul."

Jason looked away, digesting what Jean-Paul was saying. It made more sense the more he thought about it. He was falling in love with Piotr, and the fact Piotr was a guy was irrelevant. He loved Piotr because he was Piotr, not so much that he was a guy. It was possible that Piotr was the gateway to his sexual desires, although that sounded so trite. "I guess I never thought of it that way, but it might be too soon to tell."

"Fair enough," Jean-Paul said, standing back up. "Well, now that you've got that off your chest, I should tell you that we're getting really close to being late for class, and while I don't think Principal Kelly is as stern as Principal Darkhölme was, I'd not like to test that."

Jason chuckled. "Yeah, you're probably right." Getting up on his own feet, he looked back at Jean-Paul. "Hey, uh, Jean-Paul?"

"Say no more," Jean-Paul said quickly. "I understand completely: I won't tell anyone, including Piotr. Off the record though, I think he'd be far more receptive than you give him credit for."

"I know he would, but that's not the point…" Jason trailed off, reluctant to say more.

Jean-Paul's eyes grew in realization as his mouth shrunk to a perfect "o."

"Not a word, Jean-Paul!" Jason said, his brow sinking angrily.

Jean-Paul raised his hands placatingly. "I won't! I swear!"

Jason relaxed. "I know you mean well, Jean-Paul, but if anyone should tell anyone, it's me and me alone. This is my—" He hesitated; he didn't want to call it a problem. "—well, it should fall on me."

"You probably don't realize this, Jason, but that's something every one of us has to face, and while we cross that bridge eventually, you don't have to do it alone."

Jason nodded. "Thanks, Jean-Paul. That does mean a lot. I will tell Piotr and my other friends at some point, but not yet. I'm…I'm still not quite ready just yet."

"Even if Ms. Nosy knows?"

"She may not play fair most the time, but she can be trusted to keep a secret."

"If you say so," Jean-Paul said slowly. "That being said, seriously, we need to go."

Jason looked at his watch. "Shit!"

Both of them strode quickly for class.

XXXXXXXXXX

Stokes County Maximum Security Facility, Upstate New York – 3:14 PM

"Thank you for coming on such short notice, Professor."

"It's the least I can do, Director," said Professor Xavier.

"We can only hope that this issue can be quickly rectified," said Mr. McCoy.

"Director Fury," the Professor said while motioning to Mr. McCoy. "Henry McCoy, one of my faculty members at the Xavier Institute."

Fury's eye barely even blinked as it accessed the blue-furred gorilla-esque form standing before him. "I trust that you are fully aware of the situation, Mr. McCoy."

"Quite indeed."

Fury's gaze shot around the room, noting the apprehensiveness of some of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents around him. "Don't you all have work to do?!" he barked.

At once, everyone around them snapped back to work as if nothing had changed. Director Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D. regarded Professor Xavier coolly, and the Professor knew that the cordiality between them was strictly professional, but he knew better. The director tolerated the Professor in this operation because he was essential in keeping Cain Marko inside the containment pod and not as a source of major headaches for S.H.I.E.L.D. As for the organization itself, Director Fury knew full well about the X-Men and their operations, as any major player in surveillance and information should be savvy to the happenings within its home nation. The Professor knew that the Director held the X-Men with the same regard as a bomb: a great weapon but he chafed that they weren't under the direction of S.H.I.E.L.D., and the Professor knew that the Director was aware of his goal to keep them independent of the whims of politics.

"What's the situation since the incident?"

"Protocol Black has been keeping Cain immobilized for the time, but time is running out. The biofluid is growing more inert and it won't be long before Marko wakes up."

"Which means we need to act quickly," the Professor finished.

"There's more, Charles," Fury said darkly.

The Professor's brow sunk.

"As you well know, the entire security system has been overhauled since last time and has been tested to the point of nausea. It is not supposed to fail."

The Professor folded his hands.

"We interrogated the guard that accessed this cell last time, and he claims he knows nothing. That implies an imposter, and I'm sure you know whom I'm referring to."

"Mystique."

"I assume you looked into any activity that day."

"The school said the principal was away for a superintendent meeting, one that did occur."

"And yet why does that not reassure me?"

The Professor steepled his hands. "If you're asking if I can verify that Ms. Darkhölme—Mystique—was physically present, I cannot. I know she infiltrated this facility and released Cain."

Fury's gaze darkened.

"I don't intend to hide this from you, Director. Mystique used Cain to draw us from the Institute so she could infiltrate it unseen. She stole data on Cerebro, one another friend of ours Forge later alerted us to its use to find mutants more quickly."

"I can attest to this, Director," Hank said. "I discovered her infiltration of the Institute while the X-Men were dispatched against Cain two months ago."

"And she's trying this trick again?" Fury asked.

"Possibly, but she was last sighted on Asteroid M last month, and I'm sure you know that fortress has been utterly destroyed. Mystique was never seen since. However, I'm not complacent; I did not make the same mistake again. The X-Men are guarding the Institute as we speak, and I left my best in charge while I'm away. I have full confidence that they will protect the Institute."

"You'll have to deal with the fact that I'm not assured," Fury said. "Your team is a loose cannon, Xavier. The only consolation so far I have is that at least it's been firing the correct direction."

The Professor knew that any attempt at assurance would be subjective, and Fury was an objective person. "I understand your reservations, Director, but you'll just have to trust us."

"You haven't been drafted as a task force for the government or haven't been contained in the Triskelion yet, have you?"

"No."

"There you are then." Fury said. "Warden Stone has briefed us on the situation and has the facility on a Code 12. My agents Danvers, Hill and Romanov are on standby while Barton is stationed above us."

The Professor looked around and soon saw to his quiet alarm a sniper nest had been assembled and hoisted. One individual was keeping a hawk's eye on the situation, barely even moving. The Professor also noticed a rather heavy bow flanking the nest's occupant. Fury had to realize that a simple bow and arrow couldn't take down Cain, unless there was something about the arrows Fury was mum to share.

The Professor looked back at Fury, who simply crossed his arms. "I know what you're thinking, Charles, but I'm not taking any chances. He may be your stepbrother, but to me, he is a threat that I cannot be complacent thereof. S.H.I.E.L.D. will do what is necessary."

The Professor folded his hands. "I would prefer that not be the case, so we must get to the bottom of this and reverse the damage. Thankfully, we have some time to implement the fix that I have in mind."

"Just how risky is this fix?"

"It's dangerous to be sure, but it's our best chance. Rebooting the security system has a twenty-second window for us to identify the cause of the issue, and it's too short of a time for Cain to wake up."

"Ideally, yes, but the biofluid's concentration is weakening by the minute. He may wake up faster."

"Yes, that is true, but it's our only chance. I have to try."

Director Fury's good eye narrowed, but he knew that it was definitely the cleanest way to fix and identify the issue. Once they did, they can resolve it and they could all go their separate ways. "Very well; I'll alert the base."

XXXXXXXXXX

Xavier Institute for Gifted Children

"Check this out, bro!"

Alex Masters was on a video call with his brother Scott and shared a video sharing link. "All right, give it a sec to buffer."

Scott watched the video, depicting Alex surfing like a professional through the waves, and at one point deep within the waves as it began collapsing. Scott had to smile; it looked every inch like his brother was surfing through a tunnel of water.

"You can't beat me in the pipeline, bro!" Alex said, obviously proud of himself.

"Yeah? If you're looking to compare yourself to me, who are you really competing against, the fifth-grader league?"

"Hey, now! I'm semi-pro, bro!" Alex said, looking every inch offended but knew that he was just being teased. "And maybe next year, I'll go full pro!"

"Full pr—" Scott started, but then realized the implications of Alex's statement. "So, I guess that means you're not coming here then?"

Alex's enthusiasm evaporated. He didn't quite expect Scott to catch on so fast, and he wasn't initially ready to talk about his invitation to the Institute. He sighed. "I-I don't know, Scott. It hasn't even been a month yet, and honestly, I haven't quite come fully around to this mutant-thing just yet, even after everything that has happened with Magneto and all."

"Yeah, I get that," Scott said, more despondently than he wished. "Still, I'd like you to still think about it though. I mean, everyone else would love to have you. You're something of a celebrity, since you're now my 'no-longer-lost' brother."

"Heh," Alex laughed. "Well, that's something, I guess. Don't get me wrong, though, bro; I am digging these new powers." He demonstrated it but using a very minute blast to shut his bedroom door. "I think I'm getting the hang of it, although there was this one time where I picked up an enchilada at the school cafeteria…and…it blew up."

Scott laughed. "I really can see that happening." Sobering up, he continued. "Got to be careful though, Alex. Too many incidents like that and they'll start catching on."

"Yeah, I know. It was only one time though, and I've been making sure it doesn't happen again. It's hard enough to balance this with school and surfing, you know?"

"Yeah, tell me about it," Scott said. He had his own workload to worry about and he wasn't about to fault Alex for a few mess-ups. God knows he had a few of his own. "Listen, Alex. I hate to have to go, but I have a mountain of schoolwork I need to work on."

"Yeah, me too, bro," Alex said. "Don't sweat it. Talk to you soon!"

Scott said his own farewells and pressed the hang-up button on the UI. He was disappointed that Alex was not feeling like coming to the Institute, but at least he could still talk to him. It hadn't even been a month since they reunited, and Scott was thankful for every minute he could be with his younger brother.

Maybe one day, Alex would change his mind and come to the Institute. It would be amazing if he did.

XXXXXXXXXX

Stokes County Maximum Security Facility, Upstate New York – 3:14 PM

"All personnel are situated and ready for orders, Director," said Agent Hill.

"Thank you, Hill," replied Director Fury. "Professor?"

The Professor had rolled his wheelchair up to the pod, Cain's still form standing so tall above him inside. "I am ready, Director."

"Good," Director Fury said. "Prepare the reboot, Corporal."

"Yes, sir," said a corporal operative manning the computers. Several other S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives were manning other computers and control panels, posed to catch any system issue that could manifest upon reset.

"Start the reset and look alive!"

"Yes, sir!" barked the operatives. The operative's well-practiced fingers flew over the keys, setting up the rest. "Initiating reset in three…"

The rest of the countdown was wordless, until the operative barked. "Reset commencing!"

Every operative in the room tensed as each one delved into their respective jobs with abominable drive. The Professor's mind focused on the still form of Cain inside the pod. He was watching for any sign of motion, and his mind's eye was looking out for any brain activity that could indicate he was waking up sooner than expected. Twenty seconds was a short amount of time, but more than enough for the likes of Juggernaut to cause major havoc if unchecked. The Professor tuned out the constant key-tapping and fiddling of circuits and wires; his focus was purely on his stepbrother.

Cain's eye twitched, and the Professor's heart skipped a beat. Cain was already starting to wake up five seconds in! Charles put his fingers onto his temples; he needed to keep Cain asleep. Normally an easy feat, but Cain's mental fortitude was strong enough that anything short of a psychic bomb may not be sufficient.

The Professor started feeling resistance in his mind's brother. He had to be careful; he did not want to reveal himself to Cain; it could hasten his awakening. Even now, Cain was at great risk of waking up! He didn't want to have to deploy a psychic bomb as it were, but time was running out!

"Reset complete!" barked an operative.

"Engaging override!"

Cain's form grew still again as the paralysis took over, and the Professor let out a mental sigh of relief. Cain was far too terrifying a force to relax even a little bit; even now, the Professor kept a vigilant eye on any change that might betray a failure.

Fury's voice interrupted the Professor's pensive thoughts. "Can't say I'm too happy to have seen that, Professor."

"Neither am I, Director," replied the Professor.

Fury's good eye scrutinized the Professor before turning its vigilant gaze elsewhere. "Report!"

"Several anomalies have been detected in the software, Director!" said one agent.

"Diagnostics has also detected several issues in the failsafe hardware!" said another.

The Professor turned to the agents as the Director demanded more answers. "How long are we talking?"

"It could take up to eighteen hours to scrub all the defects in both the software and hardware, Director!"

"Not good enough, Lieutenant!" the Director barked. "I want the entire system up and running smoother than a baby's ass before Cain gets out again, am I clear?"

"Sir, yes, sir!" chorused the room.

A flurry of boots and rustling uniforms nearly drowned out Fury's next request. "Professor, I'm afraid I'm going to need you still."

"I agree, Director," the Professor said. "I too believe this was deliberate sabotage, and no, I did not read your mind."

"And when you do that, Professor," Fury said. "I have a hard time believing it."

The Professor didn't move as Director Fury rejoined his agents—likely to supervise them with the intensity of a tree-full of vultures—and he was alone with his thoughts. This was every inch sabotage, and he wasn't going to be quick to dismiss the suspicion that Mystique did it all, but for what reason? If the time required to fix everything was accurate, this attack on the systems seemed widespread…

…almost as if it were meant to take a long time to fix.

The Professor didn't know what disturbed him more: the fact that they had come this close to another Juggernaut breakout, or that an even worse threat is being set up. Even worse, he was too far from home to help the X-Men now.

XXXXXXXXXX

Logan was peeling through the back country of New York State proper, coming as close to enjoyment as one could ever expect from such a man. However long he had been alive, he always felt the call of the wild, as it were, and he needed time alone from civilization. He could spend days or even weeks on the road; it all depended on how long his instincts needed him away from the clamor of the Xavier Institute.

Despite his lone wolf nature, the X-Men had given him a sense of stability and family that he had lacked, and the understanding he got from his colleagues only made him all the more thankful. He would never say it out loud though. He would wordlessly leave, wordlessly return, and just as wordlessly, he was welcome to do either. He understood the necessity of staying underneath the radar, which was all the easier when being out on the open road; he wouldn't jeopardize the Professor's wish to remain under the radar for now. He respected him enough for that.

At one point, he passed by a rather dilapidated warehouse on the outskirts of a nearby town. As he did, he could smell the age of the ruins…as well as something else. He stopped his motorcycle alongside the road and took off his helmet, sniffing the air as he did. His eyes narrowed; something was not right. He couldn't explicitly tell what he was smelling, but something about it was familiar.

His claws shot out as he entered the ruin, sniffing around for any sign of a current occupant. He half-expected Sabretooth to pounce in a place like this, but he would have smelled him if he were here. Someone else had been here, and judging by the smell, it was hours ago, maybe half a day. He looked around and sniffed around, journeying further into the warehouse.

Snarling, he realized what the smell was: Lady Deathstrike. Scarface had said that he left her behind in the laboratory two months ago, rather unceremoniously as well. If Deathstrike survived the dam collapse on top of being pinned down and violently drilled into which, she had to have a seething grudge for the person who put her there and slice up anyone else between her and her target. If she was this close to the Institute…

Logan practically tore through the warehouse back to his motorcycle. He had to get back to the Institute hours ago. If he needed to break land-speed records to save the kids at the Institute, he would destroy the pavement doing it. He needed to get back…and for the first time in a long time, he was afraid of what he will find once he arrived.

XXXXXXXXXX

Xavier Institute for Gifted Children – 8:02 PM

Jason had retreated to his room, and he tried not to be awkward with anyone at dinner. Jean and he had not spoken since their blowup earlier that morning, and he had not paid attention to Jean since then to know if she had any remorse. Earlier today, Jean had betrayed Jason's biggest secret that he hadn't even admitted to himself, and he was rightfully angry at her for that. That being said, how long could be angry at her for the truth?

Throughout the day, he thought he would have to pull Jean aside and talk about this further, but there were so many ears in this mansion that he wasn't comfortable talking about anything in this place unless it was in the relative safety of one's bedroom. Jason had to make a face at that thought; like that was going to happen. The best thing he could do now is simply wait it out and maybe talk to her about it later. He was aware that there was a study group going on in the living room, and he had to admit, his own studies were one bad breeze from toppling the Tower of Pisa it was. He just didn't want the awkwardness between Jean and himself to distract from the academic endeavors of his peers.

After finishing his World History homework, he felt the urge to study more into the alchemic texts he was given recently. Despite his own alchemic prowess, he had to admit, he felt like he was such a novice as he read more and digested everything he was absorbing. If it wasn't for these manuscripts and journals, he might have never considered even a droplet of these alchemic approaches. It was almost terrifying to even attempt any of these, and he didn't know if he would ever have the nerve to try.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts, and he had to smile to himself. "Is that you, Peter?"

The door opened, permitting the entry of the tall muscular form of Piotr Rasputin. "How are you knowing it is me?" he said as he made his way in.

"You're the only person I know that knocks to enter his own bedroom," Jason teased.

Piotr smiled. "My mother is teaching me to have good manners."

"A dying art, I know."

Piotr had sat down on his bed and he looked contemplative. Jason didn't notice right away because he was studying some notes regarding adjusting the concentrations of specific molecules. He wasn't so distracted to not notice Piotr's question. "Where were you today?"

Jason looked up from the manuscripts. "What do you mean?"

"We are wondering why you were not at the cafeteria today."

Jason's eyes danced around briefly, before he realized that he did in fact skip lunch today. His heart skipped briefly when he remembered why he did. He blew out a sigh as his mind raced to figure out a viable excuse. The truth of the matter was that he was not ready to talk to Piotr about what he shared with Jean-Paul today, especially with Piotr. The irony of that was Piotr would understand more than anyone else, but there was something that Jason didn't even say to Jean-Paul that he was especially not ready to reveal to Piotr. It was enough to make Jason nauseous out of pure anxiety.

Piotr seemed to pick up on Jason's anxiety. "Are you all right?"

Jason sighed again; he knew he owed Piotr an explanation, but he wasn't ready to reveal what came bursting out to Jean-Paul on the weight room's floor. He just wasn't. Still, he had to say something. "Yeah, I am…" He looked at Piotr. "…and I'm sorry for not showing up for lunch today." Pursing his lips, he weighed each word carefully. "I was not in a good state of mind when lunch came around."

Piotr didn't say anything, wordlessly inviting Jason to elaborate. Jason really appreciated how patient Piotr was with him and always was. He knew his eyes were watering both from the hurt he was feeling and how undeserving he felt to have a wonderful friend like Piotr.

Jason sighed once again. "Earlier this morning, I ran into Jean in the hallway, and I must have caught her at a bad time because she rounded out on me." Jason raised his hands. "Now, I might have said a few things myself, but one thing led to another, and she said something to me that I had never said to anyone else, which means the only way she knew was if she saw inside my head."

Piotr's brow sank, and Jason knew that look. He was indignant that his best friend's privacy was so violated, but he was holding his indignation back because it wasn't about him. It was about his friend. The indignation faded away, and the concern was back. "What did she say?"

Jason's breath caught in his chest, and the wetness in his eyes was back. He could remember it even now word for word. Pursing and unpursing his lips repeatedly, his brain crashed as his heart nearly pumped the words out of mouth. Looking away from Piotr, he opened his mouth but closed it again. He wanted to tell Piotr everything, but the fear of rejection on what he considered the most important question was too much. "I…" Jason started, blinking away the wetness. "I…I'm sorry, Piotr, but I'm not really ready to talk about that yet," he finally said while shaking his head.

Jason did see a flash of disappointment in Piotr's face, but just as fast, empathic understanding shone on his face. Piotr understood all too well that some things take time to talk about, as he himself had gone through the same just this past year. While Piotr had never said so, he practically held Jason as an absolute saint for his understanding and compassion during those months. "I understand."

Jason smiled. "Thanks, Peter. I really do want to tell you, but…," Jason said all the while meticulously calculating each word as he said them. "…it's just something that I'm still wrestling with myself."

Unknown to Jason, Piotr understood this that it had something to do with his post-traumatic stress, and that was a topic Piotr was very deft in dealing with since it upset Jason so much. It only made sense to him that Jean might have crossed that line. "I am wishing Jean was not hurting you," he said, more scornfully than he wanted to sound.

Jason had picked up on the cadence of Piotr's clause. He knew that Piotr was a private person and didn't like the idea of anyone getting into his head for whatever reason, and that Piotr was simply projecting that. Jason didn't want any more animosity towards Jean, particularly on his own behalf. "Well, in Jean's defense, I don't think she meant what she said. Sure, it was wrong of her to say what she said, but she was dealing with her own issues, and I had intruded upon them myself. I probably could have de-escalated it myself and this wouldn't have happened, but…" Jason shrugged. "…shoulda-woulda-coulda. Nothing can be done about it now."

"Did you talk to her after it?"

"I really haven't had a proper chance to," Jason admitted. He was trying to avoid awkwardness and avoid any non-privy ear from listening in. The last thing he needed was a huge misunderstanding born from another misunderstanding. "With all our homework tonight and my own side studies, I really haven't had an opportunity to pull her aside so we could talk it out. You know how people here love to gossip, and I'm trying to avoid that."

Piotr had to nod about that. He didn't like to gossip, but even he couldn't help but overhear many a rumor between the other Institute students. He had no idea just how much he had heard of any given person, but one thing he wouldn't do is share it with someone else. He wouldn't like it if people were talking about him, and he knew they were on occasion.

"Anyway, I didn't mean to weigh down the atmosphere any more than it already is."

Piotr blinked in confusion. "What are you meaning?"

"Let's just say that as smart and diligent I know I am, it might not be enough to finish all this homework I need to complete before Monday."

Even Piotr had to wince at that. "Yes, I am having a lot too."

Jason at once looked compassionate. "Do you need any help with anything? I just finished my World History homework if you need help with that."

Before Piotr could even respond, the lights went out. Jason looked around; despite the fact he couldn't see much of anything. "What the hell?"

"What happened?" Piotr said in the darkness.

"I don't know," Jason replied, slowly rising from his chair. "Might be a power surge, although I can't imagine what might have caused it." He felt around the bed, trying to make sense of the blackness around him. Suddenly, his hand felt something cold and metallic. He felt around it and realized that it was his adamantium rod that he had taken from the Mount Makenna base two months ago. Suddenly feeling an intense instinct to keep it with him, he scooped it up and then began feeling his way towards the door. "Come on, let's see if we can find the others. Most of them should be in the living room."

Piotr followed Jason out into the hallway, feeling his way himself, but was struggling more than Jason was. "Jason, where are you?"

Jason turned to where he heard Piotr's voice. "I'm just ahead of you." He reached out, feeling for Piotr's form he guessed had to be close.

Suddenly, he felt his hand brush warm skin and just as fast felt his hand grabbed by strong hands.

"Whoa, Peter!" Jason said as he felt his shoulder grasped next. "It's me! I swear!"

The hands didn't let go, but a voice came close through the darkness. "I am sorry…" Piotr's voice said.

"It's ok, it's ok," Jason repeated. "We're ok…" He had to wonder why he was repeating that they were ok despite just being thrown into darkness. Truthfully, Jason felt a sense of near paranoid dread building, but he had no explanation for it.

"Jason?" came Piotr's voice.

"Yeah?"

"What is the matter?"

"What do you mean?"

"You are sweating."

Sure enough, Jason's arm and even the back of his neck was growing wet with sweat. Even his mouth was dry, and he had to swallow to answer. "I'll be fine…let's just…," He looked around in the darkness. "Let's just find the others." A simple concept in theory, but with Jason's nerves, it proved to be more cumbersome than he thought.

"Jason?"

Jason froze as he "heard" Jean's voice in his head, which also caused Piotr to tense. "What is wrong?"

"It's Jean," Jason said. "What is it, Jean?"

"Are you with Piotr?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

"Touché. We're all in the lounge, and we're trying to round everyone up there so no one gets lost. Scott however is on his way to the generators and has asked for your help."

"My help? Just me?" Jason asked.

"I offered, but he reasoned that it was best that I stay with the group if something goes south, and he needs to alert us."

Jason's blood grew cold. "Why would something go south?"

"You know Scott. Prepare for anything. Shall I let him know you're coming?"

"Yeah…I'll double back and get my coat."

Jean dropped the line, as it were. Jason turned back to where he mentally thought Piotr was. "Peter, I just spoke to Jean, so to speak. Scott wants me to join him outside to inspect the generators. Jean wants you to get to the study where the rest of the students are."

"Why?"

"I wish I knew entirely, but my gut tells me it's a good idea. I need to get back to my room and find my coat. Can you get to the study on your own?"

Piotr didn't like the idea of leaving Jason on his own right now, but he would be with Scott. What could go wrong? "I can."

"Thanks, Piotr. Hopefully we can find the problem and get back to our studies without losing too much time."

"Jason?"

"Yeah?"

"Be careful."

A part of Jason's mind almost barked back with a retort on why he needed to be careful, but something in Jason's instincts told him something was wrong, and that Piotr was feeling it too. "I will. I'll let you know as soon as I find something."

Piotr held onto Jason's hand a little longer before letting go. Jason's heart panged from the disconnection, but he needed to stay focused. Feeling his way back to his room, his mind raced on any rational explanation on why the Institute was without power. It wasn't storming, and this system was state of the art. Maybe it wasn't the generators; maybe it was a breaker. Still, wouldn't that have been Scott's first thought?

Jason had returned to his room, and the first order of business was to find a flashlight. He was sick of the darkness. Finding one in his desk drawer, he switched it on and quickly located his coat, thankful for the light at last. He made to leave, then he realized that he was much closer to the generators from where he was now than if he made his way back into the hallway and outside conventionally. Sure, he was a whole story up, but he wasn't that delicate.

Cracking open the window, he felt the cold night air bite him in the face. Suppressing a shiver, he pulled down his ski cap more snugly on his skull, adjusted his gloves, climbed onto the windowsill and jumped down. The landing smarted, but he shook it off enough to start walking on the frostbitten grass. Cursing, he realized that he left the window open. Looking back up at the window, he espied the metal frame of the window. Perhaps…

His fingers sparkling with alchemic energy, he reached out using alchemic magnetic fields and pulled the window shut. He couldn't latch it from outside, but there was no wind to pull it back open. He'd have to remember to latch it later.

He strode towards the rear of the mansion, where the generators sat. As he did, he noticed how bright the moon was on this cold winter night, and even how quiet it was, save for his footfalls on the frosty grass. Despite how serene it appeared, the silence was getting on his nerves. He tightened his grip on his adamantium bar be brought from his room.

Eventually, he found his way towards the back of the Institute grounds, expecting to find Scott. However, he wasn't there. "Scott?" Jason called out, perplexed.

"Yeah?" came a cry behind him.

Jason nearly jumped a foot in the air as he spun around. "Scott! Don't scare me like that!"

"Sorry," Scott said. "Are you all right? You seem a little on edge."

"Yeah, I think so." Jason said, trying to calm his racing heart. "Everyone else ok?"

"As well as you can expect in total darkness."

"Yeah, about that," Jason said, turning to the generators…and was surprised to see their state.

Scott noticed too. "Whoa, what happened here?"

"It looks like they got shredded," Jason said, eyes wide.

Sure enough, the generators looked like they were sliced like with a hot knife on butter. Scott was prepared to see a lot of reasons for the failure, but this wasn't one of them. "My god."

"You said it."

"Can you fix them?"

"Sure, but…" Jason said, looking around. "That won't explain what shredded them in the first place."

"Let's take a closer look. There's got to be some explanation."

"That goes without saying."

Scott strode up to the carnage and shined his flashlight on it. The generators occasionally sparked weakly as Scott's guided the flashlight's halo over the generators. "Jason, look at these slices."

Jason looked around another time before taking a closer look at the generators. Sure enough, the slices were clean and even, and to his alarm parallel. At once, Jason's blood froze. "Scott, we need to get back to the others and fast."

Scott looked at Jason strangely. "What are you talking about?"

Jason looked wildly at Scott. "No time! If we stay here, we're fucked! Trust me, Scott! We need to go!"

"Why in such a hurry?"

Scott spun around to face the source of the voice, while Jason slowly turned himself. He knew that voice, and if his soaked brow was any indication, Jason knew that voice terribly.

"After all, I've been so eager to see you again, little boy…," the voice spoke. Scott could hear footsteps coming towards them, and at once he raised a free hand to his glasses, ready to give the intruder a mean look in the blink of an eye. Jason's grasped the adamantium bar in his hand firmly, but the occasional tremor shook his arm. Suddenly, a form appeared in Scott's flashlight beam: a slender woman with long black hair, steel grey eyes, and an overcoat of slate grey. "It's been a while, boy," she said to Jason.

Jason swallowed a boulder and couldn't speak. Scott barely moved and was all business. "Who are you?!"

"My dear, I don't think I require an introduction." She motioned to the sweating Jason.

"Sadly, she's right." Jason said, his mouth dry. "This is Lady Deathstrike…a product of the same sick experiments Logan went through."

Shocked, Scott looked at Jason, but Deathstrike spoke first. "That's all you have to say about me? I'm hurt. After all, we know each other far more intimately than that. You truly are heartless, aren't you?" Deathstrike's eyes narrowed slightly. "…after all, you did leave me at the bottom of a river."

Jason didn't answer.

"So, when you mean the same experiments as Logan, you mean—"

"Yeah," Jason said, eyes not leaving Deathstrike.

"Like I said, we know each other far more intimately than such a crass statement."

"How did you get past the security system?" Scott charged.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Deathstrike replied coolly. "Truthfully, I'm a little disappointed that there wasn't a warm reception, but perhaps your defenses aren't nearly as robust as you think…not that I would know anything about it."

Scott scowled beneath his glasses. "You're lying…"

"Perhaps I am," Deathstrike said coyly. "But given your current circumstances, I would think it's moot."

"Then I suggest you leave before we make you."

"Straight to business then?" Deathstrike said, raising her hand towards her face. Jason tensed at once. "Such a shame."

"MOVE!" Jason shouted.

Scott obeyed automatically, just as Jason decked a clawed back-swipe. Jason transmuted his rod into a shield, just in time to deflect another swipe from Deathstrike.

Deathstrike saw how little damage she dealt against Alchemist's defense. "Well, well, looks like you kept a souvenir."

Jason swept his hand around, transmuting the snow into fog, blanketing the area.

Deathstrike scowled slightly. "And it seems you've gotten bett—" Deathstrike espied a red glow through the fog, and dashed away as a hot blast soared right where her head was.

Scott scowled. "She's fast."

Jason materialized from the fog beside Scott. "And observant. I was fairly lucky last time."

"Indeed, you were," Deathstrike's voice came out of the fog, and her spear-like fingers shot out of the mist.

Jason barely moved in time; the spears missed his neck by inches. "Shit!" Alchemist cried out.

Scott's hand were at his visor in a flash…

"Too late!" Deathstrike crowed.

…but not fast enough. A claw sliced right through Cyclops' visor, cleaving it cleanly in two.

"SCOTT!" Alchemist cried out.

"Oh, did I break your glasses?" Deathstrike said. "Silly me…" She turned menacingly to Alchemist. "…but I suspect that you, boy, have more important things to worry about." She shot out her claws towards Alchemist.

Alchemist deflected each blow with his adamantium-alloy shield, but in one quick fluid motion, he swiped away one swipe and slapped the ground with his free-hand. Transmuted spikes rushed towards Deathstrike, but she deftly dodged them.

"Familiar," Deathstrike taunted. "Learn anything properly new?" She thrashed out with more claws.

Alchemist shot back with a sparkling hand, and at once the claws stopped in their tracks. Deathstrike felt bone-crushing resistance pushing her claws back, and while they didn't bend, they couldn't move…almost as if…

"How about this?!" Alchemist yelled, throwing another sparkling hand forward.

Deathstrike found herself thrown head over heels backwards. Recovering back onto her feet, she saw another snowy blast of fog covering the field. Scowling, Deathstrike chided. "Fog in my eyes again? How artless…"

Deathstrike sliced her claws through the fog but struck nothing. She scowled again; Alchemist used the fog to disappear from the scene, however temporarily. "I think I liked you more when you were scared and pitiful."

XXXXXXXXXX

Meanwhile inside the Institute, Jean and the others waited patiently for the lights to come on. The rest of the crew were able to obtain flashlights and other ways to banish the darkness so they could resume studying, but the modest light did little to banish the stress of studying for the mountain of assignments each student faced.

None were privy to the battle going on outside, but Jean sensed something was off. When she reached out to Jason, she felt some strange fear gripping his mind, almost paranoia. She didn't want to dive too deeply into what was causing it, not after their tiff earlier. Jean still had not made time to properly apologize to Jason for it. She knew she wasn't wrong in what she said, but everything about the way it came out and why it did was completely her fault. It wasn't Jason's fault for catching her at a bad time. What's worse was that Jason was right about his own assessment of her own behavior, and the more she thought about it, the more she knew it. Even worse, she had no right to be envious of Scott. She was in her own relationship, so it was only natural that Scott would seek his own. Why wasn't she happy for him?

Before she got far, a cry of warning shot into her head. "Jean!"

It was Scott! "Scott? What's wrong?!"

"No time to explain! Get everyone into the Danger Room and prepare to initiate the Defcon 4 protocol!"

Jean paled. "Scott?"

"Do it, Jean!"

And at once, Scott was gone. "Scott?!" she cried out again mentally, but Scott did not answer. She could sense he was still alive as was Jason. At once, Jean felt terror in Jason's mind; he was fighting someone…someone he thought was dead. What could be going on that has Jason terrified and Scott to even fathom using Defcon 4? It was a defense protocol that only the teachers and both Scott and Jean knew about, one to be used only for imminent threats. If Scott was asking for that…

Jean knew she was wasting time. Standing up, she made a quick mental count of the students…and found one missing. Once again, she did a headcount, trying to find the missing student and hoping she wasn't too slow. Finally, she realized who it was.

Trying to act as calm as possible, she approached Rogue. "Rogue?"

Rogue looked up from her World History book. "What is it?"

"Where's Risty?"

"Why?"

Jean willed herself to stay calm, all too aware that time may be running out. "Please, Rogue. Where is she?"

Rogue blinked in confusion. "Well, when the power went out, she said that she needed to get home and so she left."

"Just like that?"

"Just like—" Rogue cut herself off. "What's going on?"

Time was of the essence, and Jean decided to act. "Everyone, we must make for the Danger Room. Suit up and gather there, and quickly!" The group stirred, voicing various musings of confusion, but Jean knew that this was too serious to entertain them. "Quickly now. Scott and Jason are dealing with an invader, and we need to fortify the Institute."

Piotr at once stood up. "Who is it?"

Jean was tempted to look, but she knew that would waste time. "I don't know, but Scott sounded serious. We need to go."

"But what about—"

Jean knew he was asking about Jason, and it reminded her again about the forbidden knowledge he had of him. "Piotr, Jason and Scott will handle it. They know what to do, and they will be fine, but we need to head to the Danger Room."

Jean could sense Piotr's mental war between his mind and his heart. He badly wanted to help Jason but knew that Jean was right. Jean's heart twisted with guilt again, knowing that Piotr's heart longed for Jason. If only she could find a way for both of them to realize their feelings for each other. That would have to wait for now though as present matters were more pressing.

"All right," Piotr relented.

"If we can fortify the Danger Room, perhaps we can send you and Kurt to help them, but for now, let's get all the other students to safety."

Piotr seems satisfied with that. "Da…"

Jean turned to Kurt. "Kurt? Can you teleport us all to the Danger Room?"

"Uh…" Kurt said. "Maybe, but it would take a lot of concentration and energy. I might mess up and teleport half of us into the floor. A few at a time, yes…"

"Then let's do that. Take Kitty, Amara and Ray first to the lockers to suit up. You three? Go straight to the Danger Room. It should already be in standby mode. The lower levels run on their own power. Come right back and get the next three. Got it?"

Kurt nodded as Kitty gathered up Amara and Ray. Kitty asked, "Is everything ok?"

Jean looked at Kitty. Like Kitty, she had her own reservations about what was going on but voicing them aloud would not be beneficial. "It will be, as long as we keep cool heads."

Kurt arrived with Amara and Ray. "Let's go."

Jean watched the four teleport away, and as she decided who would go next, she tried to convince herself of what she told Kitty.

XXXXXXXXXX

Alchemist guided a blinded Cyclops through the frozen mists, trying to stay as quiet as possible. Lady Deathstrike was still somewhere in the mists, and they were in no position face her head on. They needed a battleground more agreeable to them. With the power out, much of the Institute was cut off except the lower levels. Getting down there was simple in theory, but in practice?

Alchemist tried to keep his voice down. "Scott?"

"What?" Cyclops replied the same way.

"Deathstrike will tear us apart if we stay up here. We need to get to the Danger Room and join the others. It's our only chance."

"Agreed, but with the power out upstairs, we won't be able to get into the mansion from up here…"

Alchemist waited in silence. He sensed an ellipses in Cyclops' words.

"But we might be able to get inside from the cliffs."

Alchemist nodded. "Ok, let's go, and keep quiet. The fog won't last much longer…"

It took way too long for Alchemist to take Cyclops towards the cliffsides on the ground, each ticking second sapping away the mist. Alchemist tried to suppress the shivers in his body; it was far too long of a trek still, and any moment, they would be caught.

When Alchemist brought Scott to the cliffside, he dared to hope. However, the moon was shining a little too brightly tonight, and Jason felt like he was glowing like the entire city of Las Vegas. "Scott, we're near the cliffs."

Cyclops nodded. "Ok, there's a pathway that leads to the bottom."

"Ok, hopefully I can—"

"Ollie ollie oxen free, boys…"

Alchemist quickly tossed Cyclops forward, all the while jumping backwards. Two claws shot where they stood mere moments before. Recovering, Alchemist could see Deathstrike thirty feet away, resheathing her claws. "You are annoyingly fast, little alchemist…"

Alchemist blew out a breath, ignoring its vapor as it left. "Sue me if I'm feeling a little jumpy."

Deathstrike smiled coldly. "You might be, until I cleave your legs off."

"NO!" shouted Cyclops, opening his eyes. A massive crimson blast lit up the night, searing everything in its path…and right past Deathstrike.

"My, my," Deathstrike cooed. "That would have been painful…if only your aim was true." A shing signaled her claws. "But you won't get the chance to try again."

Alchemist dove in front of a recovering Cyclops. "I won't let you!"

Deathstrike blinked. "And just what do you plan to do about it? You have no chance this time, boy. Your back is to a cliff, and you won't sacrifice your dear friend to save yourself. Face it; you've made your final strategic blunder. Your short life ends here."

Alchemist's mind raced. Deathstrike was very correct. There was no getting out of this unless he did something incredibly stupid…and ultimately costly. "You're right." Alchemist raised his hands in front of his face. "Then I guess this is it, Deathstrike." He clapped his hands together. His alchemic powers surged as he faced down his opponent. "See you in hell."

Deathstrike barely could blink in confusion as Alchemist slapped his hands against the earth. Surges of alchemic power tortured the earth between her and her prey. Her eyes shot open angrily. "YOU DARE—"

The entire cliff face exploded in a flash of light, throwing her backwards. She could hear nothing but the searing fire and the crumbling earth, but she somehow came out unharmed. Landing on her feet, her eyes looked over the smoking landscape, and she saw that the ground had disintegrated in front of her, possibly sliding over the side. Hissing, she shot forward to what remained of the cliff. Looking down, she saw the sea tearing at the land. The tide was out, and she could see the rough waters pour over and ease off the rocks.

Deathstrike sneered viciously. With an explosion like that, the boys either were vaporized or were sent into the icy depths or even dashed upon the rocks. Survival was doubtful at best. Gritting her teeth, she could only see one conclusion: the Alchemist robbed her of her revenge by killing himself.

Shrieking in the night like an angry harper, she slashed at the ground nearby, furious at another denial of her quarry. After several seconds of furious slashing, she breathed hard. "You were so cowardly as to deny me what is rightfully mine, your blood on my claws? Very well, young Alchemist, you will pay for your treachery."

Deathstrike looked at the darkened mansion and smiled coldly. "And you will atone with the blood of your friends. Once their blood coats my claws, then your final failure will be complete."

XXXXXXXXXX

Jean and the rest of the remaining X-Men were almost to the Danger Room when they felt the earth rumble underneath their feet. Before they could get their bearings, the rumbling stopped just as quickly. Piotr asked first. "What was that?"

Rogue asked next. "Was that Lance?"

"I don't think so…" Jean replied warily. She was tempted to try to reach Scott, but she didn't want to distract him further. Whoever was attacking them had made Jason terrified initially, so whoever it was, it had to be bad. "Let's get in the Danger Room and lock it down. We can't be too careful…"

"But Jean," Rogue said. "If whatever is attacking us gets to us, wouldn't that mean—"

"Rogue," Jean said, noting Piotr's face growing anxious. "Scott and Jason will handle it, and if they can't, they'll find a way to get to us."

Rogue didn't seem entirely convinced but knew better than to argue. She made her way past Jean, casting a look at Piotr as she did. Jean turned to follow but couldn't help but see Piotr's face. "He will be ok, Piotr, I know it."

Piotr looked at Jean, then back down the hallway they came, and then back again. He wanted to object again, but he knew that Jean was right. They had to protect the students, and he was among the most capable in doing so. He turned wordlessly away, making his way towards the Danger Room.

Jean looked back where they had just come from, her own anxieties likely mirroring Piotr's. Sighing to banish the bad thoughts, she thought to herself. "Please be safe, Scott…"

XXXXXXXXXX

Just a floor above the gathering X-Men, a figure made her way towards a vault-like door marked by an ostentatious X. She had been through this door mere months ago, but she knew better than to try the same method twice.

Before she could act, a rumbling shook the floor beneath her feet. She braced herself as the tremor came and went. Her venom-yellow eyes looked around, although she knew she wouldn't see anything here. "It seems that Deathstrike has her hands full for the moment…but no matter. She's doing her job and I'm doing mine."

Her blue reptilian form melted away into one of an older man in his fifties, hair long since gone and wrinkles only mildly sagging his features. The older man crouched down so that his face lined up with the center of the X in the door. At once, a light shined over the man's face, scanning his features in a cold blue light. In seconds, the beam faded, and a computer responded.

"Facial and retina ID verified. Voice imprint and password requested."

The man's face frowned briefly, but then smiled quickly. "Moira."

"Voice imprint and password accepted. Welcome, Professor."

The man stood up as the door slid open with a hiss. His form melted back into the slender reptilian form of a blue-skinned woman with fiery red hair and venom eyes. Her transformation complete, Mystique strode into the room.

"It was obvious that the dear Professor would require upgrading his security protocols to Cerebro since the last incident, but I'm afraid he'll have to try harder than that now that I've evolved."

Mystique admired her form briefly. She managed to sneak into the genetic enhancer on Asteroid M while the X-Men were too busy with the Acolytes and the Brotherhood, and in no small part the Alchemist occupying Magneto. Now her ability to transform was so complete that even retinal scanners could be fooled.

She strode towards the center console and her fingers got to work inputting her latest quarry. The last time she was here, she had stolen the schematics for Cerebro to give to Magneto to help track mutants. Magneto had helped construct the original Cerebro, but the system has had major software and hardware upgrades since then. Mystique knew that the system would not be complete without a capable telepath to use it, but Magneto never got to use the system before Alchemist essentially vaporized the entire base.

Now that she was flying solo, she needed neither Cerebro nor a telepath; she needed what Cerebro knew. She flew her fingers over the keyboard, searching the archives as methodically as possible. Finally, she found it: a complete archive of the profiles for each and every one of the X-Men and New Mutants. She took out a thumb drive and inserted it into a port. Quickly copying all the files she could, she smiled to herself. She took the idea of "know your enemy" very seriously, and now she would always have the upper hand.

She even located the files of all the mutants that the X-Men faced. Magneto, Juggernaut, the Brotherhood and—she had to smile to herself—a file of Mystique herself. It was grossly outdated at this point, but using what they did know of her was still valuable information in itself. She copied every file of them as well. In her line of work, an enemy of her enemy wasn't necessarily a friend.

Lastly, she started copying over files of potential expansion candidates. That was probably some of the most valuable information; she did not want the X-Men numbers to grow too large, and so she needed to be one step ahead of Xavier and potentially sabotage each one of them. Whether she needed to recruit them herself or simply alienate them was something she would have to consider later as she reviewed each one.

As she copied the final files over, an alert interrupted her concentration. Frowning, she read the alert: an intruder in the upper levels. She already knew the answer, but she looked at the camera feeds, and saw a slender woman dressed in a grey trenchcoat making her way deep into the Institute. Mystique suppressed another frown. Natural that Deathstrike would seek more prey to dismember; it was what made her a useful tool as long as you pointed her the right way. That being said, if she had disengaged from the battle already, did that mean…?

Mystique quickly brought up camera feeds to the outside, and looked over the carnage outside. There were telltale signs on Alchemist's transmutations, but there was no sign of him or Cyclops. Suddenly, she saw a gouge of earth missing from the side of the cliff. While she had not been to the Institute in over a month, she had no memory of that area being missing.

She remembered that rumbling she felt moments earlier. What if it was new? She couldn't tell in the darkness of the night, but it was possible. And if it was new, who caused it? Moreover, where were Alchemist and Cyclops?

Her eyes bulged as the implications set in. Could Alchemist and Cyclops have been in the middle of that tremor? Could they have been swept over the side? Mystique knew there was next to nothing but rocks and the icy waters of the bay down there, and it was low tide now. Could the two X-Men have met their demise? She could hardly believe it, but she would have to find out.

Mystique watched Deathstrike move further into the mansion, likely looking for the rest of the X-Men. Scowling, she knew what that meant. She would kill all of them, including her son Kurt and—

Mystique knew she couldn't reveal herself to the X-Men, but she had to find a way to slow her down at least. Quickly typing on the computer, she found the defense systems. The lower levels still had power, and something called Defcon 4 was in effect. A quick study found that it targeted all non-registered individuals with lethal force. Mystique wondered what that entailed, but she wasn't the kind of woman that took chances.

Looking at the Danger Room, she could see the X-Men and the New Mutants forming ranks, facing the main door. The Danger Room defenses won't engage with them in the room…but perhaps…with some assistance.

Mystique espied the observation nest in the middle of the room, and she knew what she had to do. Morphing into a rat, she scurried as fast as she could through the air ducts towards the observation nest. She knew she had little time, but she had to try.

XXXXXXXXXX

"You think she bought it?"

"I'm not sure I did."

Alchemist hugged the wall of the cliff facing, his eyes never breaking from the top of the cliffs. After transmuting a landslide coupled with an accelerated kinetic explosion, Alchemist and Cyclops fell over the side of the cliff. Alchemist quickly transmuted a brief magnetic aura that slowed their fall just enough to not seriously hurt them. Aside from a few bruises, they were fine. Now he could only hope that Lady Deathstrike bought the performance.

"Do you see her?" Cyclops asked quietly. He didn't care to try to say anything louder over the waves.

"No…," Alchemist said back. "But that might not mean much. She's from the same sicko experiments as Logan was. She could have the same skills and tenacity. We need to assume that she could be watching."

"Yeah, you're right," Cyclops said. "Should we risk pressing on?"

"We might have to. Any idea where to go from here?"

"Where are we facing?"

"North, away from the cliffs."

"And we fell from the west side of the Institute," Cyclops reasoned aloud. "Then lead me eastwards along the cliffs and quietly."

Alchemist nodded, taking Cyclops' hand and led him along the shoreline, carefully and quietly. The low tide was a strange blessing, both masking their sound and also keeping the path clear. However, the wind was all the colder here, and Alchemist knew that he needed to find shelter fast. Suppressing a shudder, he asked, "How far do we need to go?"

"We need to find an overhang underneath the cliffs, opposite two spires of rock."

The moon was still bright, but there were a lot of rocks that looked a lot like spires, throwing Alchemist off. However, he pressed on. It had to be close.

Several freezing minutes later, Alchemist came around a turn on the cliffside, and saw a gaping overhang facing two tall pillars of rock. If that wasn't it, he'd eat his left boot. "Scott, I think I found it."

Cyclops suppressed a shiver of his own. "Good. Get me to the deepest part of it."

"Sounds easy enough," Alchemist said to himself. Going deeper into the maw of the overhang, he led Cyclops towards the far wall. "Ok, I think we're here."

"Let me feel around a bit," Cyclops said.

Alchemist released Cyclops' hand and waited as Cyclops felt around the wall. Trying not to fret, Alchemist kept a wary eye on the path they just came from. There had been no sign of Deathstrike, but that did little to dissuade his anxieties. Even if Deathstrike bought the act, he had a feeling that Deathstrike was now storming the Institute. He hoped everyone was safe.

Cyclops exhaled sharply. "Ah, here it is."

"Here what is?" Alchemist asked, confused.

"The back door to the Institute." Cyclops made to move, but hesitated and frowned.

"What is it?" Alchemist said. "Is something wrong?"

"No, just—" Cyclops sighed. There was no choice. "Listen, this entrance is a secret that only a very select few of us know here. Most of the X-Men don't even know about it." Cyclops turned towards Alchemist's general direction, his eyes still shut. "You need to swear to never tell anyone else about this. Once the Professor knows, I'll need to inform him that you know and he may require that you forget. Do you understand?"

Alchemist pressed his lips. He didn't like the insinuation, but this was an emergency and suspension of some protocols were required. "I guess I don't really have a choice."

"Say the words, please…"

"I swear; cross-hairs on my heart."

Cyclops sighed. "Very well. Stay back…"

Alchemist watched as Cyclops' hand felt upon a unremarkable rock, but then watched his index finger fold behind it. He watched fascinated as Cyclops turned the rock about forty-five degrees counterclockwise and then pressed it inwards ever so slightly. Alchemist jumped as a door of rock suddenly cracked open to their left.

"Go ahead and push it open."

"Ok," Alchemist said. He gingerly walked towards it and pressed with his fingers. The door glided open effortlessly. Alchemist looked in and saw a hallway lit with red emergency lighting along the tunnel floor. "Not exactly the Doors of Durin, but wow…"

"Come on. We need to get inside and shut the door."

Cyclops and Alchemist made their way inside, and once they did, Alchemist turned around and pushed the door back shut. The air was still cold inside, but much more bearable than the air they just left. "Got to say, that is a strangely low tech entrance for such a relatively high-tech hallway." Alchemist's eyes fell on the red lights.

"We couldn't risk a digital interface due to both the elements as well as the capacity to get hacked. Sometimes the old ways to lock a door are still the best way."

"I suppose." Alchemist said. "Where are we?"

Cyclops moved forward, his hand caressing the wall as he did. "The escape hallway. It was designed as a way to get out of the Institute and towards the docks. There are several tunnels in the Institute that eventually lead here. Obviously, we only are supposed to use it in the worst-case scenario."

"Ironic that we used it to get in."

"Trust me, Jason," Cyclops said. "The irony is not lost on me. The closest tunnel should take us to the hanger. We should be able to suit up and join the rest of the X-Men in the Danger Room and hold a defensive position."

"Wait a minute, Scott…" Alchemist stopped. "Deathstrike could already be inside the Institute. We need to find out where she is. If we go in blind and we stumble upon her, we will be in an even worse situation than up top: a homicidal maniac in close quarters."

"If we don't rendezvous with the X-Men, she could get the spring on them. We need to get there ASAP."

"Of course, but you haven't fought her before in close quarters. I have and it was still roomier in the lab than in the hallways. She'll cut us apart and won't declare herself. We won't stand a chance!"

Cyclops pressed his own lips together. "We can't waste any time."

"Can't we warn Jean somehow?"

"No," Cyclops said bitterly, as if he considered the option already. "These lower tunnels are telepathically shielded with some kind of ore that disrupts the psychic wavelengths. The Professor didn't want to risk any malicious mind-trace from above."

"Damn it…"

"Damn it is right," Cyclops said, and then sighed. "The war room is just adjacent to the lockers where our uniforms are. We might be able to track her from there, and maybe attempt to warn the Professor."

"Good idea as any," Alchemist said.

Silence fell upon the two as they strode further in. Soon, Cyclops stopped as they reached a dead end. "Ok, I think we're here. There should be a grate above us."

"Can confirm," Alchemist said, although he couldn't see well beyond it. "Can you give me a boost?"

Cyclops folded his hands into a crib. "Come on, let's get going."

Alchemist stepped into Cyclops' folded hand, and he felt himself hoisted upwards. Alchemist grasped the bars of the grate and pushed upwards. The grate resisted slightly, but soon opened after some more persistence. Alchemist moved it aside and rose his head above the opening. It was darker than the night, but judging by the way the sound reverberated, it had to be a large and relatively empty room. "I think we're in the hanger." Alchemist turned his head around several times to see if he could espy any movement. "I think it's clear."

"Ok, get up there and help me up."

Alchemist hoisted himself out of Cyclops' hands and onto the hangar floor. Pausing briefly to listen for any noise, he looked back down at Cyclops and tapped on the wall. "I'm over here."

Cyclops felt around and found Alchemist's offering hand. "Ready?"

"On my count…one…"

"Two…"

"Three!" Alchemist pulled the same time as Cyclops jumped. Cyclops was a good three inches taller than him, and while he could have climbed up himself, his robbed sight was a liability. Alchemist strained as he helped Cyclops lumber up. Cyclops was definitely heavy—their junior leader was almost as religious as taking care of his body as he and Piotr were—but Alchemist was privy to using one's body to achieve maximum effectiveness as an amateur gymnast.

Once Cyclops was able to join Alchemist on the hangar floor, Cyclops sighed. "Unfortunately, I think my usefulness ends here until I get my visor. You'll have to take point from here."

"Point of observation, no offense," Alchemist said. "But the hangar lights are still off and it's too dark to see where we're going. Sadly, I lost my flashlight up top. Do you have yours?"

Cyclops shook his head. "No."

"Well, I might have an idea. It's risky though as it might attract unwanted attention."

"What do you suggest?"

Alchemist clenched a fist, summoning his alchemic powers which cast a dull green glow in their immediate area as the bolts snaked around his fist. "A side effect of my transmutations is light. The discharge generates light and heat as part of an exothermic reaction to the air, not unlike electricity. It's pretty weak, but it might help us see a small distance until we can find the door."

"It might work, but if Deathstrike is within view of the windows, she could see us."

"Yeah, I know," Alchemist conceded. "But I can't get my bearings without seeing anything. We might have to risk it for the sake of speed.

"All right," Cyclops stood up. "Let's go."

Alchemist took Cyclops' hand and placed it on his own shoulder. "All right, here we go." Alchemist lit up his hand in alchemic energy, keeping the energy throttled enough to not generate too much light. Taking point, he led Cyclops away from the grate and towards a direction where he hoped the entry bay was. He knew they had to hurry, but with Cyclops currently handicapped, however temporarily, it wouldn't do well to be rash.

Suddenly, Alchemist saw the light reflect against a wall. "Found a wall," he announced.

Cyclops perked up. "Do you see a door?"

Alchemist looked left and right. "Not right away."

"Well, it feels like we drifted left away from the grate as we went. I'm thinking we should try right."

Alchemist left Cyclops towards the right. "You can tell which way we're drifting?"

"I spent several days with duct tape over my eyes earlier in my life. I've developed a good sense of direction."

"I guess you would." Alchemist said, and then saw something. "Wait, I think I see the door!"

"Do you see a console on its left side?"

"Yes," Alchemist said, leading Cyclops towards it, but then noticed something. "Uh oh…"

"What is it?"

"It's a digital interface. The keypad is non-tactile. You're not going to be able to feel for the numbers."

"91963."

Alchemist looked at Cyclops, his eyes wide.

Cyclops nodded. "I trust you."

Alchemist regarded Cyclops for another second before he turned to the interface and inputted the passcode. The gravity of Cyclops' trust was not lost on him. "Thanks, Scott."

"You're a valuable member of the team, Jason."

As the doors slid open, Alchemist smiled, somewhat thankful that Cyclops couldn't see it.

"Let's get to the lockers."

"Right."

Their bearings obtained, they were able to quickly locate their lockers and started changing. Cyclops quickly located his visor and slipped it on. Sighing, he said. "I never thought I'd be thankful to see so much red again."

Alchemist zipped up his uniform. "I can't imagine." He turned to his boots. "If we get out of this alive, I'll try to find your glasses and repair them."

"I do keep a spare set in my room, but thanks."

Alchemist slipped on his boots and reached for his gloves. "The security room isn't far from here?"

"Just down the—"

A muffled explosion cut them off. Cyclops' hand flew to his visor and Alchemist tensed, ready to attack. They could here more muffled sounds of battle somewhere deeper in the Institute. "What was that?"

"The security system," Cyclops said. "If Jean activated Defcon 4, then it should be identifying any non-registered person as a threat and attacking."

"That must mean Deathstrike is already down here," Alchemist surmised.

"It would seem so."

"We got to get to the others."

"Let's find out where she is. If she's heading towards the Danger Room, we might be able to box her in. Let's head to the war room. We might be able to send a message to the Professor from there."

"Lead on, leader," Alchemist said.

Cyclops slid the locker room door open and listened for more signs of battle. Sure enough, there were sounds of explosions, weapons fire and something that sounded like slicing. Lady Deathstrike was definitely down here and getting closer. "Quick, down here!" Cyclops and Alchemist went for a brisk run towards the war room. Cyclops opened the door and beckoned Alchemist inside. Once both where in the room, Cyclops quickly shut the door and locked it. "Alchemist, try to pull up the security feeds. I'm going to try to get a message to the Professor."

"Roger that," Alchemist said, practically leaping towards some adjacent monitors.

Cyclops activated the center console, trying to establish a connection with the Professor. After several agonizing seconds, he found that a connection could not be established. Suppressing his frustration, he decided to do the next best thing. Setting up the message, he pressed record. "Professor X, this is Cyclops. The Institute is under attack by a rogue mutant calling herself Lady Deathstrike. We are holding position in the Danger Room and will do what we can, but we need help. Please come quickly!" Finding the conveyed urgency satisfactory, he pressed SEND.

Alchemist looked at Cyclops. "Do you think he'll get back in time?"

"We can only hope. I sent the message to all the senior X-Men including Logan. Hopefully anyone close enough can help."

"In the meantime, we will have to make it count."

"Yes," Cyclops said. "Were you able to find Deathstrike?"

Alchemist was still cycling through security feeds. "I can only pull up one camera at a time from here, and some of the feeds have been cut. I saw some feeds showing something that looks like turrets firing at something, but the angle was too poor for me to see what."

"Pull up a feed for the front of the Danger Room," Cyclops said. "She has to be heading that way at this point."

"Do you think she knows they're there?" Alchemist looked at Cyclops.

"No," Cyclops said. "But the Danger Room is one of the largest rooms in the Institute. It's difficult to miss."

Alchemist cycled through the footage until he found one facing the Danger Room doors. "Here it is. Looks intact."

"Good. I'll see if I can reach Jean—"

"Wait!" Alchemist said, pointing to the screen. "Look!"

Cyclops leaned in, looking at where Alchemist was pointing. Seeing the computer screens in all red made them a little harder to see, but sure enough, he saw something moving…something…or someone…heading towards the front doors.

"Shit," Alchemist hissed. "She's already there." His eyes wild, he looked at Cyclops. "How long will it take for us to get there?"

"Two minutes tops. Let's go!"

Cyclops led the charge out the door, running quickly to the Danger Room with Alchemist close behind him. Alchemist fretted as he ran, unable to shake the feeling they didn't have that long.

XXXXXXXXXX

Moments earlier…

Jean stood front and center in the middle of the Danger Room, flanked by Colossus on her left and Rogue on her right. The rest of the X-Men formed a protective barrier around the New Mutants, also suited up but looking unnerved. They had no idea why they were down here, but whatever it was, it clearly put the X-Men on edge.

As the current de facto leader of the X-Men for the moment, Jean waited patiently but anxiously for further developments. She had attempted to reach Alchemist or Cyclops, but for some reason, she couldn't reach them. Having to face down an unknown assailant created trepidations enough; unable to reach Scott was debatably worse.

Jean could feel some kind of malicious presence make its way towards them. She couldn't quite get a lock on who it was—she could only tell that it was a woman and was adept at mental shielding—but Jean could tell that she was skilled as well.

Soon, the presence was just outside the door. "Get ready, everyone…she's here."

"She?" Rogue started.

Before Jean could elaborate, the doors slid open, permitting the entry of a slender woman with long black hair, angular eyes and wearing a grey trenchcoat. "Knock, knock…"

Colossus paled. "It is you!"

Lady Deathstrike looked at the tall Russian youth. "You're still alive, I see. I would have thought our old boss would have finally thrown you out. Tonight is full of disappointments, apparently."

Jean narrowed her own eyes. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

"Oh, me?" Deathstrike cooed, before looking back at Colossus. "How about you be a good boy and introduce me?"

Colossus frowned, ignoring a bead of sweat on his neck. "She is calling herself Lady Deathstrike…"

Shadowcat's and Nightcrawler's eyes widened. "You were the one that tried to kill Jason last year!"

"Good, we're well met then," Deathstrike said. "As for my business, well, that alchemist boy and I didn't finish ours back then, so I'm here to finish it." She scowled. "It's a pity that he decided to make that decision all for himself, robbing me of the pleasure."

Colossus wasn't familiar enough with the nuances of English enough to understand. "What are you saying?"

"Dear boy, I'm sure you know. He did put up quite a fight though, he and the one with the glasses. Only small grace that one has is once he lost his glasses, he couldn't see what happened to him and the young Alchemist."

Jean blanched as the meaning started it sink in. "Wait…you're telling me that…no…you didn't!"

Lady Deathstrike slowly looked at Jean, and only offered a cold smile.

Jean immediately saw fire, feeling the burning flames of fury boost her powers. "YOU BITCH!" she shrieked as her body lit up like the sun. Everyone braced themselves as Jean grabbed Lady Deathstrike in her fiery telekinesis and threw her against the far wall. That wasn't enough, as Jean continued her fiery assault, each blast searing more and more of Deathstrike's flesh off. The rest watched aghast as Jean continued, punctuating every attack with a scream of pure fury. Suddenly, the room started groaning as if being wedged apart from the inside.

"Jean, stop!" Nightcrawler said, terrified at what she saw.

"She killed him!" shrieked Jean.

"Jean, you're ripping the place apart!" Shadowcat said.

Jean looked around, and saw that several of the walls were slowly bending. Her power was so intense that it was warping the walls. Suddenly, the flames around her form evaporated as if they were never there. Her rage quickly became replaced by a new feeling: grief. Hot tears burned down her face as she fell upon her knees as she cried.

Shadowcat and Nightcrawler were immediately at her side. Colossus could only look down at her. Her fury had made real his own dark thoughts. If Scott had been killed, did that mean…?

"Are you finished?"

All but Jean looked to see that Deathstrike was standing back up on her feet, her skin regrowing at an accelerated rate. As her face healed, it showed a complete bored look. Despite the punishment that Jean dealt on her, it did not impress Deathstrike at all.

Jean didn't even notice her. All she could feel is the missing part of her soul that was Scott, snuffed out just like that. The rest of the X-Men looked unsure what to do.

"All that show and that was all you could do?" Deathstrike said, sounding disappointed. "Pathetic."

"Jean, come on!" Nightcrawler said. "You need to get up!"

But Jean couldn't move. All she felt was the twisting coils of grief.

"I'm usually not the kind of person who grants mercy…," Lady Deathstrike said as she extended her claws out several inches. "But I suppose killing you would be just that. If it's any consolation, he did put up a flashy show."

Before she could move, Colossus strode determinedly between Deathstrike and Jean, a furious look on his face. "Kurt, get everyone out of here. I will be taking care of this."

"But—" Nightcrawler started.

"Do it," Colossus said more firmly.

"You wish to offer yourself first then?" Deathstrike said.

Colossus' form steeled up, growing an entire foot as he did. His transformation complete, he glowered down at Deathstrike. "You, are what they are saying, have made a big mistake…"

Deathstrike didn't say anything right away, but sighed. "I see you finally found your nerve, and it appears I touched it." She smiled. "Shame that it is completely wasted." She shot her claws out like spears, and they shot right through Colossus' right arm.

"PETER!" Shadowcat cried out, horrified at seeing Colossus' metal flesh pierced so easily.

"Such pure strength, hamstrung so easily." Lady Deathstrike shot claws out from her other hand, aiming at the still form of Jean.

Colossus move his left arm in the way, saving Jean from death by moving the claws back up and keeping them in his own flesh.

"Piotr," Jean finally managed. "You can't save me. Get the others out of here and save yourself."

"No…" Colossus said.

"Please…"

"No!"

"Go!" Jean wailed.

"Ya skazal nyet!" Colossus shouted back.

Lady Deathstrike scowled as Colossus stood firm. It was no fun to kill someone if he maintained a brave face.

"I am feeling sick of not protecting the ones I care about. I did not protect my family; I did not protect my sister, and I did not protect Jason! Tonight, I am protecting all of my friends; I will not let anyone else get killed, not when I am able to protect them!"

Deathstrike retracted her claws, leaving six holes in Colossus' metal flesh. "And who will protect you, metal man? It looks like you are the one that needs protecting."

Colossus' white eyes narrowed. "Be trusting me, suka; I am not requiring protection." Colossus brought his fists up to fight. "No one will be protecting you."

"I hate overconfident men." Deathstrike raised one hand towards Colossus' head.

"GET YOUR FUCKING CLAWS OFF PETER!"

All eyes shot to the entrance of the room, just in time to see an optic blast and alchemic lightning fire at Deathstrike, striking her in her core and smashing her into the wall. Colossus looked to see a sight he never thought to see. "Jason!"

Jean dared to look, and saw that Cyclops was standing above Alchemist. "Scott! You're ok!"

Cyclops made his way to Jean, while Alchemist ran to the front of the line near Colossus. "Did she hurt you?"

Jean tried not to cry again, but she couldn't help but be happy to be proven wrong. "I'm ok now…"

Cyclops could only smile.

Meanwhile, Alchemist joined Colossus who looked ready to crush him in a hug. "You're alive!"

"Well, I have to say the rumors of my death were only minorly exaggerated," Alchemist looked tenderly at Colossus. "But we will need to catch up later. We got work to do."

"Right," Colossus agreed, standing form right beside Alchemist.

Deathstrike was already getting back on her feet when Alchemist called to her. "Looks like I caught you off guard after all!"

Deathstrike frowned at the shot. "You should have been killed!"

"Yeah?" Alchemist said. "Just a few fireworks. Glad to see you're easy enough to fool." He rose his voice so the others could hear. "Listen up, X-Men! Deathstrike here was created using the same processes that made Logan the guy he is! She has the same healing factor and same adamantium implants! Attack only at range and do not let up for a moment!"

As the X-Men formed ranked, Deathstrike collected herself and balefully looked at Alchemist. "You will see me paint my claws with your blood before this night is over!" Shrieking, she charged.

As the X-Men scattered to stay at range, Alchemist transmuted metal spikes to slow her charged. When she stopped, Cyclops blasted her with an optic blast. As she flew, Colossus charged in like a rhino, smashing a fist into her side, sending her flying into the wall, cratering it.

Iceman, no longer content to stay in the backlines, flashed forward and quickly froze Deathstrike's body to the wall. Jean, rekindling her fury, immediately reached out with her telepathy. "It was a mistake to come here, Deathstrike, and a mistake to attack us, but you will submit to my power!"

Deathstrike struggled against Jean's psychic attacks, and then lashed out. "ENOUGH!" Her claws shattered the ice, showering the X-Men in razor-edge hail. Colossus shielded Alchemist from the ice, his back towards Deathstrike. Shrieking with animal fury, Deathstrike charged at the two. "I WILL NOT BE DENIED MY REVENGE!"

Before she came close, flares burst in front of her face, blinding her. Nearby, Jubilee was launching her signature flares and firecrackers at Deathstrike. Before Deathstrike could recover, Cyclops fired his optic blast again, sending her back into the wall. Berzerker quickly summoned his lightning to keep Deathstrike pinned against the wall.

Alchemist's mind raced. They were only slowing her down, not stopping her. They needed something particularly powerful to knock her out enough but not so powerful as to catch them in the blast, like a controlled explosion. When the smell of ozone from Berzerker's lightning met Alchemist's nose, he got an idea. Where there was ozone, there was oxygen, and if there was enough oxygen…

Alchemist shouted at Magma. "Magma, fire some of your lava at Deathstrike. Berzerker, get back!" Alchemist quickly summoned his alchemic energies.

Berzerker was surprised enough to jump back, and while Deathstrike tried to shake off the electric attack, she saw Alchemist wave his hands in front of him. A cloud of alchemic energy surrounded her, but appeared to do nothing. She was about to laugh…until she saw a girl throw a magma ball at her.

As soon as the magma ball entered the alchemic cloud, a massive fiery explosion rocked the room, knocking everyone off their feet. Alchemist revered enough to watch a firestorm erupt where Deathstrike was standing. He quickly summoned more alchemist power to block the flames from advancing, containing the firestorm. Mere seconds after he did so, the flames quickly evaporated once all the oxygen was consumed.

Everyone watched with bated breath as the smoke blew away, revealing a stunned and frazzled Deathstrike, her flesh rebuilding on top of metal bones as well as—to Alchemist's sock—cybernetic implants. Deathstrike was a cyborg!

Alchemist realized that her cybernetics can't take fire well, likely overheating to the point of dysfunction if they were subjected to too much heat. Finally, a weakness!

"Jean, patch us all in!" Alchemist said. "I have an idea!"

Jean expanded her telepathy to connect all the minds in the room aside from Deathstrike.

Alchemist wasted no time. "Everyone, she's vulnerable to extreme heat! We might be able to shut down her cybernetics if I make a bigger fire bomb. We need to pin her down one last time. Iceman, when you get an opening, fire her into an entire block of ice. I'll then transmute the ice into hydrogen and oxygen gas. Magma, fire another lava bomb at her and I'll contain the area with alchemy. The rest of you, when you see that magma bomb, hold your breath and hit the deck!"

"But that might kill her!" echoed in Shadowcat.

"Her healing factor should keep her alive," Cyclops added. "We have to do everything it takes to take her out."

Jean sounded unsure, but ultimately thought. "We may not have a choice. She wants to kill all of us; we need to do what we must."

"She's about to recover." Alchemist alerted. "Let's do it!"

They all turned to face Deathstrike as she stood back up, her skin still smoking but healing. "If I have to slice you all up, I WILL!"

She changed targets, hurling herself towards Iceman. Alchemist transmuted a magnetic field quickly, stopping her in her tracks. Colossus charged in and put all of her mind into a punch. Iceman quickly tried to follow up with his ice, but Deathstrike was smarter than that now. She quickly strode away, and instead took off after Jean. Jean quickly summoned a telekinetic barrier to stop her claws from reaching her. Deathstrike kept striking at Jean's shield, and Jean mustered all she could to keep it up. Cyclops blasted Deathstrike off of Jean with an optic blast. Jubilee peppered Deathstrike with more fireworks, trying to disorient Deathstrike enough for Iceman to get a clear shot.

Deathstrike shot out with her claws blindly, causing several X-Men to duck. Nightcrawler teleported away, reappearing behind Deathstrike. Seeing an opening, he charged forward and dropkicked Deathstrike in the back, vanishing into smoke immediately afterwards. Deathstrike sprawled into the wall. She quickly spun around to face her attacker, but Nightcrawler was already gone. Unseen to her, Shadowcat and Rogue phased through the wall behind her, and Rogue touched her bare hand against Deathstrike's exposed shoulder. Deathstrike felt the life drain out of her, and quickly spun around to slash at Rogue, but Shadowcat already dragged Rogue out of reach.

Iceman didn't hesitate. He fired his cryo beams at full power at Deathstrike, completely encasing her in ice. Alchemist ran in and slapped his hands against the ice. Alchemic energy instantly melted away the ice into a gas. The sudden increase in temperature provoke a mass increase of the gas like an explosion in itself, sending Alchemist to the ground. Deathstrike quickly recovered, and saw Alchemist. "Foolish child, you are mine now!" She brought her claws down towards Alchemist.

"NOW, AMARA!" Alchemist yelled. "KURT?!"

Magma launched a blazing hot ball of lava towards Deathstrike, distracting her enough to allow Nightcrawler to appear in, grab Alchemist, and get him out. When Alchemist reappeared, he quickly shot his hands towards Deathstrike. "EVERYONE, GET DOWN!"

The alchemic cocoon surrounded Deathstrike again, and she shrieked in rage just as the magma ball touched the border of it. The ball ignited the concentrated mass of hydrogen and oxygen. A firebomb as bright as the sun and as loud as thunder shook everyone off their feet. Alchemist concentrated, trying to keep a barrier of non-flammable gas between them and the fire. The fire was so hot that Alchemist thought he was about to combust himself. He barely felt strong metal hands keep him steady and he maintained the barrier. Jean also appeared at his side and reinforced the barrier with her telekinesis.

Suddenly, the roaring fire died, leaving nothing but smoke. This time, the heat was so extreme that the fire suppression systems kicked on in the Danger Room, drenching the X-Men and New Mutants. All could only breathe, coughing occasionally as the smoke choked the room.

Alchemist didn't dare look away from where the core of the firestorm was, Colossus and Jean all the while flanking him. Cyclops made their way towards them. "Did it work?"

"I don't know…" Alchemist barely breathed, coughing occasionally. "I can't see anything."

Jean reached out with her telepathy. "I'm not sensing her right now. She could be knocked out."

Cyclops nodded. "Let's get the New Mutants out of here and keep a close eye out. If she's out, we can try to move her to a secure area until the Professor comes back."

"Agreed." Alchemist slowly stood up, and looked at Colossus. "Are you all right?"

Colossus was breathing hard as well. "I am all right…Jason…I was so scared that you were—"

"Hey," Alchemist interrupted. "It's ok. Let's…make sure the situation is contained and then I will tell you everything." He eyed the holes in Colossus metal form. "In the meantime, don't drop your metal form until we can make sure we can patch you up. You could start bleeding out if you do…"

Colossus nodded.

The rest of the X-Men started to slowly make their way towards the door with Cyclops, Jean, Alchemist and Colossus standing vigil.

"What happened out there, Scott?" Jean had to ask.

Cyclops had to smile. "Jason had to pull a very clever but dangerous stunt to make sure we both lived. I'm sure he could tell you a lot more about it."

"Perhaps I'll tell you all once everything is done here, and when the Professor is here. I'm going to have to apologize for the land gouge now gracing the cliff face."

Colossus blinked. "What?"

"Like I said, it's a story. In the meantime, let's make sure that we—"

Jean's eyes suddenly shot wide. "JASON, LOOK OUT!"

Alchemist spun immediately, just in time to see the shrieking and smoking form of Deathstrike launching herself at Alchemist's unprotected head. Claws raked at Alchemist's head, and two hands found their mark on Deathstrike's face and chest. An explosion of alchemic energy knocked Cyclops, Jean and Colossus off their feet, following by the sound of metal piercing flesh.

Then, it stopped. Colossus recovered first. "Jason!" He gasped.

Jean and Cyclops got up and looked at what just happened. Steam clouded much of their vision, but it soon dissipated. There in the middle was Deathstrike's face frozen in an agonized scream and Alchemist locked inside a cage of adamantium claws. Both of them were covered in blood, but no one could tell whose it was. Neither moved.

Colossus sank to his knees. "Jason…no…"

Jean ran up, trying to get a closer look at the carnage. "Jason?"

Suddenly, Jason started gasping. Colossus visibly relaxed, and Jean relaxed as well. "Thank god…"

Cyclops came up to them, unaware that the others outside had heard the noise and doubled back. He took a quick look at Jason, but couldn't tell if Deathstrike's claws found their mark. Then, he saw something even worse. "Jason…what did you do?"

Alchemist's pupils were barely dots in his eyes when he looked at Cyclops. "What? What do you mean?" he gasped.

Cyclops pointed towards Deathstrike, and Jean soon saw what Cyclops saw. At once, her hands were to her mouth. "Oh my god…"

Even Colossus looked mesmerized. "Is she…?"

"What?" Alchemist asked confused. "Why are you—" He then looked at Deathstrike, and he froze. Deathstrike's face was starting unseeing at him, her face torn apart by transmuted spikes, completely ripping apart her face and stained with blood, while other parts were caved in to accommodate the transmutation. The same carnage twisted her limbs out of position, and her chest had caved in like a black hole formed inside.

Alchemist's breath shuddered, his hands grabbing his face. "I…I didn't…" He removed his hands, and saw that they were covered in blood. His breathing quickly accelerated, and all rhythm evaporated. "I…what did I…?"

Colossus quickly was at Jason's side. He tried not to look at the disformed body of Deathstrike as he pulled Alchemist out. As he did, Deathstrike's body tipped over, strinking the floor with a metallic clang of finality.

Cyclops held Jean close, and Jean buried her face into his shoulder. Colossus was trying to snap Alchemist out of his stupor. "Jason…Jason…are you all right?"

Clamor echoed from the Danger Room doorway. Cyclops didn't hear it right away, but when he hard the name of Logan invoked, he turned. Suddenly, Wolverine's short wild form ran into the room, his teeth bared and claws brandished.

"Where is she?" he snarled. "If she hurt any one of—" He stopped himself when he realized something was wrong. Sniffing around, he could smell Deathstrike's smell, smoke, ash and traces of ozone. "What the hell happened here?"

Cyclops turned to address Wolverine. "Jason…he…"

At hearing Alchemist's name, Wolverine snarled. "Let me see!" Wolverine ran further in, and soon came upon the mess. He saw Colossus cradling a bloodied and panicked Alchemist, and opposite them was the twisted form of Deathstrike in a pile of her own blood. Wolverine stood over Deathstrike, his eyes impassively combing over the body. He then slowly looked at Alchemist, who did not meet his gaze.

Colossus, however, did. "Jason saved us, Logan…"

Wolverine growled but chose to say nothing. He looked at the body of Deathstrike again. What did the kid do to her? What happened here?

"Slim?" Wolverine said in a low voice.

"Yes, Logan?" Cyclops responded quickly.

"Get Chuck on the line. Tell him to get his ass back here ASAP."

"We already send a message—"

"Do as I say, Slim!" Wolverine snarled.

Cyclops gulped and nodded. "Come on, Jean."

As Cyclops lead Jean out, Wolverine looked at the rest. "The rest of you hit the showers and get back upstairs! No one leaves until I check everything out!"

No one dared argued with Wolverine, but he did hear them wondering aloud about the Alchemist. He too had his own thoughts, but tonight was not the time. "Russkie?"

Colossus looked up. "Da?" Wolverine looked at the shuddering form of Alchemist, and his features softened. Colossus blinked; was Wolverine sad?

"Get the kid cleaned up," he said quietly.

As Colossus helped Alchemist get to his feet, the latter seemed to notice Wolverine for the first them. "Logan? Logan I—I didn't—"

"Save it, Scarhead…" Wolverine said. "You've done enough."

Alchemist looked like he got slapped in the face, and Colossus was mortified. "Logan…"

Wolverine looked at Colossus. "Clean him up, Russkie. That's an order…"

Colossus wilted and then nodded. "Yes, Logan."

As Colossus led a traumatized Alchemist away, Wolverine looked back down at the disformed body at his feet. When he felt he was safely alone, he finally sighed. "Goddamnit, kid. Not like this…."

XXXXXXXXXX

Meanwhile, in the observation nest above, Mystique had watched the entire affair. She was ready to activate the defenses and try to target them manually if needed, but she found that she wasn't needed. Instead, she was content to watch. When she saw Deathstrike get blown up in raging fire twice, she thought for sure she was a goner…until Deathstrike, true to her name, tried one last time. She did not expect the Alchemist to kill her, however accidentally. No one, not even anyone with healing factors, could survive that.

Mystique smiled to herself. She just witnessed the death of innocence, and it was just another thing she could use against the Alchemist should the need rise.

"Not bad, Alchemist…not bad…"

XXXXXXXXX

A few hours later…

Scott, Jean and Hank McCoy—having returned with the Professor to the Institute after their own affairs up north—sat patiently in the study as Logan filled in the Professor about tonight's event. Scott and Jean had already filled in the Professor, and they simply waited patiently but anxiously. In just a few short hours, they went from a study session to the fight of their lives from an invader. It was after midnight now, and the mood was somber.

Jean could sense the feelings of all the students. They felt worried, exposed and unsafe. There might not be any real sleep tonight.

"Jean?"

Jean looked at Scott.

"Are you ok?"

"How could I be?" Jean answered. "How could we be? Someone came right into our home and completely cut through our defenses."

Scott frowned. "Yeah, I know…"

"Scott, I'm afraid you don't." Jean fought back tears. "Before you and Jason showed up, that monster strongly suggested that she…" Even though the idea of Scott being killed was a lie, even thinking about that moment was torturous to consider. "She told us that she killed you. I…I lost control, Scott."

Scott wrapped an arm around Jean. "It's ok."

"No, it's not! Everything about this is wrong! Even though we all lived, Deathstrike stole something from all of us, even in failure! There's no just walking away from this. And…and poor Jason…" Jean couldn't stop the tears at this point.

"It's ok…we're ok…we're safe," Scott said. He wasn't trying to dismiss Jean's thoughts, but he would do anything to quell her turmoil.

"I thought I lost you, Scott, and with everything going on, I—" Jean halted herself, remembering the incident in the hallway where Jason caught her snooping on Scott. Was it safe to let him know now?

"You…what?"

Before she could answer, the doors slid open, and the Professor wheeled in, followed by Logan. The Professor folded his hands. "My heart is lifted to see that you are all unharmed. Hank and I were able to rectify the situation with my half-brother, and we will do what we can to set your minds at ease."

"I'm sorry to say, Professor," Jean said. "that it might take a lot of work. We're all feeling shaken from this ordeal."

"I know…" the Professor said somberly. "Some more than others."

"I'm sorry, Professor," Scott began. "We failed you."

"Hardly, Scott," the Professor said. "You all performed admirably considering the circumstances. No one could have predicted an invasion by one of Logan's old enemies, especially one that Jason warned us about. If anything, I'm sorry for not being here sooner."

"How did she find us?" Jean asked.

"That is unknown, but I have a hypothesis that what happened here and the incident with my half-brother are connected somehow. How? I do not know, but I'm not a believer in coincidence. In either event, we will need to exercise vigilance. Hank?"

"Yes, Professor?"

"Starting tomorrow, we need to inspect all of our systems for infiltration. I fear that our saboteur may try again. We must be ready."

"Agreed, Professor."

"What happened to Deathstrike? Did she somehow—?" Scott said, remembering her healing factor.

The Professor closed his eyes. "I'm afraid not. The damage to her brain was far too severe. If she is still alive somehow, she is clinically braindead."

"Oh god…" Jean said.

Logan seemed indifferent. "One less problem to worry about."

"Logan…" the Professor said.

"If you knew her, Chuck," Logan interrupted. "You would say the same. She would have killed everyone she could for the fun of it. It's what made her good at her job…"

"Even then, any waste of life is a terrible thing. As X-Men, we are to rise above out proclivity to destruction. We should conserve life, not extinguish it."

Logan crossed his arms and looked away.

"On that note," Jean asked. "What about Jason?"

"Yes…" the Professor said. "What about Jason indeed?" He folded his hands in front of him. "He is suffering a great deal, I can sense it. I'm convinced that he did not intend to take Deathstrike's life, but his actions did lead to her demise. I must consider what must be done."

"Professor," Scott asked. "If I may…"

"I know what you're going to say, Scott, and I appreciate your loyalty to your team member," the Professor said. "But these are grave circumstances. Jason's actions led to someone's death, a foe's death, but a death regardless. In exchange, he saved the lives of all the X-Men and the rest of the students. He knows better than anyone that an exchange is made for everything we obtain. I cannot condone his actions, but I can commend his intentions."

"Where is he now?" Scott asked.

"Piotr is still tending to him," the Professor said. "Jason has learned a terrible lesson in what happens to his powers if they escape his control."

"He needs our help, Professor," Jean said.

"Agreed, but for now, let him approach us. He is in good hands right now."

Hank stood up. "I believe it was Vincent Van Gogh who said 'there is peace even within the storm.' The painter knew turmoil better than most."

"Wise words, indeed," the Professor said. "For now, let's try to get some sleep. We have much to deal with tomorrow."

Scott and Jean left, and the Professor looked on after Jean. Logan and Hank left as well, and the Professor was left to his own thoughts. What he did not reveal was that he watched the security vids in the Danger Room and saw everything, including the moment Jean unleashed her own powers. The Professor's heart quivered with the knowledge of what could be coming. Deathstrike's actions just make have set in motion events that no one could fathom. He only hoped the X-Men would be ready.

XXXXXXXXXX

Undisclosed location

Mystique looked at the flash drive that contained all the data she copied from Cerebro's computer. She suspected that soon, the Professor would find her little intrusion and restrengthen the safety protocols. It could be even more difficult to infiltrate the Institute. Should she need to get back in there, she would have to be cleverer about it.

Thankfully, she was not without her sources. On that note, she better check in on one of them, even though it was late. Pulling out a cellphone, she dialed a number, all the while changing her form into a girl with purple streaked hair.

"Hey, Rogue? It's your girl, Risty." Mystique said in a higher-pitched British accent. "Sorry that I had to bog out on you like that, but I hope you were able to get more homework done. Want to hang out this weekend? Just give me a call, ok? Miss you, girl…"

She hung up. Now, it was time to go over these files and initiate the next phase of her plan.

XXXXXXXXXX

Jason was drenched from head to toe, changed back into street clothes, but it mattered little to him. All he could see and smell was the face of Deathstrike, frozen in agony, and the blood that clung to him like a cloud of death. Piotr had given him some privacy to clean up, and he did so, but nothing seemed to clean off the blood. There were no stains, but he could still see it like a mark of guilt. All he could do was sit under the showerhead pouring down water on him, trying to wash away the blood he still smelled and absolve himself. However, nothing was working, and he was shivering now.

"Jason?" he heard.

He didn't look up, but he knew it was Piotr. He didn't move as Piotr stepped around the bend and looked down at Jason, the wet clothes clinging tightly to his body. "Why are you still in here?"

Jason shivered and shook his head. "I can't get it off…"

"What?"

"I can still see the blood on my face…on my hands. I can still smell it…"

Piotr stepped into the shower, ignoring the water streams wetting his own clothes. "Jason, there is no blood on you anymore."

Jason still didn't look up. "No, I can still see it. It clings to my body like paint…I can smell it all over me…I can still see her…I can still see her face…"

Piotr couldn't quite understand, but he wanted to help. He crouched down so he could look right into Jason's eyes without looking down at him. "Jason…"

"I killed her…I killed her…"

"Jason…"

"I'm a murderer…"

Piotr reached out to grasp Jason's hand. "You are not a killer." Jason looked at Piotr, but Piotr would not allow Jason to interrupt. "You are my friend. You saved us…"

"Peter…" Jason said. "I killed someone. How could you care for someone like that?"

Piotr's heart broke at seeing Jason destroy himself. "I care for you because you are my friend. You saved us, Jason…you saved me many times. A killer would not do that."

Jason could only look at Piotr, and his eyes saw the bandage that covered the wounds he sustained from Deathstrike. Another reminder of what he had done tonight, and he looked away.

Piotr decided to join Jason on the wet floor, his own clothes starting to cling to him. "Will you be listening to me?"

Jason wasn't sure what Piotr was up to, but he was in no condition to fight. He nodded.

Piotr took one of Jason's hands again. He held it up so Jason could see it. "What do you see?"

Jason looked at his hand. "My hand."

"Da, and do you know what I am not seeing?"

Jason looked at his hand. "What?"

"The hand of a killer."

Jason looked at Piotr again.

"I see hand of kind man, hand of a strong man, hand of…" Piotr turned Jason's hand around in his own hands, stopping himself from saying what he wanted to say. He wanted to say he saw a beautiful man, but he didn't want Jason to take it the wrong way. "…a hurting man…but I am not seeing hand of killer. You are not a killer, moi droog. You are not."

When Jason heard him say those last words, he looked at Piotr's eyes, and saw them rimmed with tears. That was too much for him, and he broke right there and then. "Oh, Peter…"

Piotr saw that Jason was about to give out, and he wrapped his large arms around Jason's shivering form.

"Peter…" Jason started. "You're still hurt…"

"No," Piotr said. "You are more important. I am ok."

Jason didn't know what he did to deserve this kindness from Piotr, but if there was a god out there, he hoped he was merciful enough for this one moment of peace. Jason knew that he would have to atone for his deeds tonight, but right now he had a friend who refused to let him go.

"It's cold…" Jason said, shivering.

Piotr looked down at Jason, and then looked up at the water. It might have been smarter to turn off the water, but he reached up to turn up the water heat. It took a moment, but the water warmed. "Is that ok?"

Jason nodded.

Piotr held Jason, feeling Jason warring within himself, but he would not let him go. He would never let him go. There was much to do, and more feelings between them to deal with, but for now, it was time to be still.

XXXXXXXXXX

This was way too long incoming. The last few years have been very tumultuous for me. The pandemic completely upset my processes and even altered my career trajectory. While I cannot promise that more chapters will be coming imminently, I can saw that I will try to do better. In case you want to know what I've been up to, feel free to look here: /jasonlauchlan.

Here is a sneak peek at what is coming next:

While Alchemist wrestles with the events concerning Deathstrike, the ladies of the Institute feel suffocated by perceived masculine oversight. To break free, they decide to moonlight as vigilantes. Can the men rectify for their aloofness, or will the call of vigilantism be too irresistible for the girls? Find out in Chapter 5: Sirens.