(Six)

Kimble flew over the trees and dropped down into the flower field nearby a large oak tree there. He was emotionally distraught and trying really hard to keep himself in line, choking down the sobs that were trying to work themselves out of his throat. It had been hard holding everything in until it had grown dark. He kept these meetings secret from all who knew him, he would not be found out. It wasn't an easy task as he lived with folks trained to see deception, but he had grown crafty and wise over the years. The only one who might suspect anything was amiss was the very one who lay broken in Henry's lab. He would not be stopped this night.

Kimble flew out here as soon as it was dark, being careful to make his way past the added patrols Logan had put in place since the warehouse incident. Wolverine wasn't taking any chances on Jael's people coming out here to cause more trouble. Kimble waited by the tree, his agitation making him restless. He was trying hard to stop crying and wiped at his eyes, cursing his weakness.

"What's the problem, pretty?" came a gravelly voice from above.

Kimble looked up, unable to hide his relief. "Oh, hey. I didn' sees ya there, Grendel."

Grendel dropped down with a heavy thud. He was a large man, covered in rough scales and ugly as sin. He was three hundred pounds of malice, three times Kimble's weight and twice his size. He was brutal and cruel, a side project of the Professor's. He had come here looking to control his aggressive tendencies and violence towards others. It was slow going, but the Professor was making progress. What he couldn't know of course was that Grendel had merely found himself a willing victim to vent his frustrations on. He and Kimble met out here two or three times a year, seeking what each one had to offer the other. For some reason Kimble couldn't explain, Grendel's shine was hard for him to see, even out here in the dark. Grendel liked that fact, though. It allowed him to sneak up on the Siskan, a playful game. A precursor to the violence to come.

"So what ya done this time, freak?" Grendel asked, his yellow eyes hungry. "It hasn't been all that long since the last time - not that I'm complainin', mind ya."

Kimble dropped his head down. "Gambit got broke again, worse than the last time. They had ta operate ta fix it."

"Well, boo hoo hoo. Sounds ta me like someone needs to be punished."

"I been bad. I caused a hurtin' again," Kimble said, his voice soft in the dark.

"Then come and git it, boy."

Kimble stepped forward and made no move as Grendel lashed out and viciously slapped him across the face, first one side then the other. He stood unresistant when the gel blood poured from his nose and mouth, standing still as his shirt was violently ripped from him by Grendel's large clawed hands and tossed aside.

"Tell me about what happened!" Grendel demanded. He could care less about Kimble's problems, this was all for ritual. He had his personal punching bag and was trembling with delight at being able to let loose some of the darkness from inside of him. First a little tenderizing on the outside, then some tenderizing on the inside. Just the thought of it had him hard and ready, eager for the blood and pleasure.

"They broked his leg," Kimble answered with a small sob.

Grendel punched him in the gut, smiling in the black as the Siskan staggered but didn't fall. It never failed to amaze him how such a delicate creature stood up so well to the abuse. How lovely.

"And?"

"They had ta puts a metal plate in."

"Just one?"

"Two, Molly said."

"Then two it is," Grendel agreed, coming forward to deliver two more heavy blows. He watched with satisfaction as this time Kimble crashed to the ground, coughing and heaving for breath. He pounced, wasting no time in shredding the last of Kimble's clothing. They scrambled and wrestled about, Kimble putting up a token fight before he was at last mashed down and mounted like the Siskan trash he was.

Kimble had his highs and lows. For his highs he found happiness in his family, but his lows, well, sometimes he needed something they could never provide. He needed punishment. He needed the pain and the humiliation. He needed to be reminded of his place in this world.

He sobbed headfirst into the grass, his body shivering with pleasure as much as he was trembling with pain. Grendel wasn't gentle nor subtle about anything he did, least of all when he used Kimble like this. He crushed Kimble's wings with his bulk and bending them all wrong as he worked, grunting with satisfaction at the Siskan's whimpers of pain. Kimble didn't complain, this is what he had chosen Grendel for. Deep inside, Kimble could hear ghostly whispers of his former selves, Lakotashay in particular. We deserves this for hurtin' the Master, he could almost hear her say, her happiness at the punishment a burning ember inside of him. It's all our fault, it always is. Her thoughts but in his own voice. We's dangerous, we's hurtin' and killding, Lin was whispering as well. We didn't keeps it small. We keeps tryin', but the hurtin's keep happ'nin anaways.

"Uh, oh!" Kimble grunted loudly as Grendel sunk his teeth into his shoulder. He shivered violently and thrashed, held in place only by Grendel's heavy scaled hands. "Uh, harder! Hurt me!"

"Shut yer mouth! Yer too fuckin' loud, bitch!" Grendel snorted, drooling now from the sweet taste of Kimble's gel blood in his mouth. Kimble's body was a skin filled with a thick gel that absorbed the plasma from the sun, he had no organs for real. His gel was made from glycerine and it was sweet and tasty like liquid candy, a delight to the one torturing him.

Kimble shivered once more and released a powerful burst of Kundatesh, showering his oppressor in pure bliss. He had done this before in the old days with Sabretooth. What was once a rape, became something quite different. Grendel made the strangest of purrs as his brain exploded with endorphins in response to the Kundatesh. He gentled his rhythm and in three strokes was done, sending the rush back into Kimble, an exchange of services rendered. This wasn't about love or desire, it never had been. Grendel needed his savage rages calmed and Kimble desired punishment and pain. This was how the game was played.

Kimble thrashed with his own pleasure, unable to keep silent. He shivered from the separation as Grendel suddenly left him, the cold almost a relief on his poor aching skin. Grendel's scales were rough and always scraped his backside badly, bruising and abrading his tender white skin. He could protect himself with a telekinetic shield if he had wanted to, but the point of this exercise was pain and blood. He had to banish the demons inside and only rough handling would do. He knew why Grendel had left so quickly, he had been too loud in spite of the command to shut up and the patrols were close. Sure enough, not a minute had passed before Wolverine was standing over him, growling in his discontent. "What the fuck is this shit!"

Kimble offered no excuses, no apologies. He staggered clumsily to his feet, his eyes glassy and a loopy smile on his lips. Rough play made him high, especially a brutal tumble like this. He knew that Grendel couldn't be scented, not even by the feral tracker in front of him. It was one of the reasons he had chosen Grendel. This lover of his wouldn't be sent away, not like the other ones that had been found out.

"All the work Remy's done on you an' still ya stand in front of me like some kind of sick freak!" Logan complained. "Look at you!"

Kimble was a sight, a shattered mess standing there in the moonlight. His body was scored with dark, ugly bruises. Blood continued to drip from his nose down his chin. It was grey and not red, something that had always freaked Logan out. Kimble's bruises were red, the bite was red and ugly, but it was thick grey fluid that leaked from him, another sign that this creature was anything but real.

Kimble swayed drunkenly in the black, his eyes only half open. It was all so fuzzy now that the pain inside had been smashed away. He was euphoric, stoned on his own Kundatesh. He could smell the sweet grass, feel the mist over the flowers they had broken. It was going to rain later tonight. He was oblivious to the swelling on his lip and the gel blood that dripped down his legs from where he had been ravaged. His back was scored with deep scratches and his wings were ripped and bent as if one of them had been broken. He had no real bones or internal structures, but his skin was programmed to display the wreckage as if he was real flesh and blood.

Logan was sick at the sight of it. Kimble was normally well kept, a beautiful man in most respects. He was naked here and filthy now, his furred lower half all rumpled and stained with grass. Worse than that was that half arrogant smile as if the Siskan was daring him to do anything about it. It seemed like the only time he ever saw true defiant anger in Kimble's eyes was when he had been busted like this - as if he knew Logan would never find out who had beaten him and he thought it was some kind of joke. Logan's anger surged. Gambit's little charity case. Every organization had to have one, he supposed. Too bad this one kept being thrown back in his face. It had only been three months since the last time he had caught Kimble out here like this. It was too soon for him to be seeing this again. Curse this Siskan and his pathetic weakness! "Why Remy wastes his time on you, I can't even figure. Get the fuck out of my sight. Go home, Kim. An' don't let Angel see ya like this. Damn!"

Kimble wilted a bit under the censure. The defiance left his eyes and all that was left was a pathetic kind of wounded glimmer as if he didn't understand how he had gotten here. He said nothing but vaulted up into the sky taking off for the house. Logan watched him go, cursing softly. He knew the why of this if not Kimble's accomplice. This always happened whenever Kimble was losing it. The Siskan just couldn't take it if his precious Remy got the least bit scratched or bumped around. Of course Kimble was still deeply in love with the thief, Logan knew it even if Remy didn't. Gambit was a fool if he thought Molly didn't know it either. Kimble would rue the day it ever broke Molly's heart. Wolverine would never be able to take her pain without having to act.

No, instead of seeing these things as simple facts of life and coping with it like any normal person, Kimble punished himself instead of letting go on his family. As much as it disgusted him, Wolverine always covered up for Kimble, hiding this from the others here at the Institute. The only ones who knew about this lived in the quad where Kimble couldn't hide the damage. This night's play had been particularly severe, Kimble's face was a mess. Usually it was just his body that was so fucked up. Wolverine had heard the news about Remy's surgery and this hadn't been unexpected. He just wished he could figure out who Kimble was using so he could send the sick bastard packing. Since Kimble asked for this, Logan pardoned it, but what if Kimble's partner chose to inflict this on someone less willing? Jeez, there was a school full of kids here!

"Everything all right, boss?"

Logan turned at the sound of Rogue's voice. She had been his partner on this night's patrol and had been flying around close by. She dropped out of the sky and landed on the grass next to him, her green eyes full of curiosity.

"Yeah. Just some animals out here, I guess."

"Sure thing, Sugah. Just thought ya'd like to know I saw Grendel goin' in by the back door. Kinda late for him to be out, ain't it?"

"That it is," Wolverine agreed, smiling now. At last he had Kimble's accomplice. It shouldn't have been much of a surprise, Grendel was a sick bastard, everyone knew it if Charlie didn't. Plus Logan knew he had a hard time tracking Grendel because of his scales and naturally stealthy ways. He would be sure to have a long talk with Charlie about this in the morning. He was damned if he was going to let Kimble keep doing this to himself.

(break)

Kimble woke the next morning stiff and sore. He had laid a blanket out in front of the sliding glass door of his room and slept there so that the first rays of sun would drift down over him and begin the healing. He required plasma from the sun to sustain his life, but it also healed him. It would take more than one day's sun to fix the damage from last night's tryst, but at least it would take enough of the edge off the bruising so he wouldn't frighten his daughter. She had seen him like this before so it wouldn't be a total surprise. She accepted it like she did all things about him.

Curled up at his feet was Princess, a grey tabby cat that Remy had bought for him long ago. She was seven now and quite fat, a sign of being well loved. She was usually wherever Kimble was, often seeking him out when he was blue and needed comfort. The Kundatesh flowed over into the animal kingdom as well and these two were good friends. He stroked his hands over her, loving the loud rumble of her purr.

Kimble and Angel shared this room as they always had when this quad was first built. To conserve on space, they had bunk beds. He slept on the top bunk where there was a skylight in the ceiling, allowing him to look out on the stars, one of his favorite pastimes. It gave him some sun in the morning as well, but not as generously as the slider did. He turned his head when he heard Angel stir in her bed. "Hey, kiddo."

"Hey, daddy," she greeted, rolling over to look at him. She saw his split lip and the ugly bite on his shoulder. "You okay?"

"Shure. It don't ever hurt me none," he lied softly, smiling at her to ease her worry.

"Who does that to you, daddy?"

Kimble shrugged. "Just a friend of mine. It's just us playing too hard, is all. Nuthin' fer yous ta worry about."

"Like that time Jessie fell off the picnic table and had to have stitches?"

Kimble chuckled softly. "Yeah. Sumpthin' like that. Ya hungry?"

"Yeah," Angel answered and got up. Instead of heading for the kitchen and the smells of breakfast, she went to him and once more climbed into his lap. He embraced her and held her tightly, enjoying her company as much as the warmth of the sun on his back. He was itchy, he could feel the healing happen. Couple of days and all of this would be gone. At least inside he was calm, at peace. He had been punished for his crime and all was well in the world.

After a moment Kimble rose and dressed, using a turtlenecked sweatshirt to cover up the worst of the damage. He was lucky that Molly had modified some clothes to fit around his wings, he had plenty to chose from. He had asked Grendel not to hit his face in the beginning, but Grendel was Grendel and he didn't take orders well. Kimble just covered up the damage as best he could and kept his head down as he brought his daughter to the table, hoping no one would notice. No such luck, when Molly turned to him for a kiss, she gasped softly in surprise.

" 'S nuthin'. Fergit it," he said quickly, his eyes hard.

She shook her head and turned away, a scowl on her face. This wasn't the first time she had seen this either. Usually Remy took care of it, but he wasn't here. He was still being held down in Henry's lab, recovering from his surgery. She chose instead to ignore it for now and let time deal with it.

Kimble served himself and Angel and sat at the table, saying nothing as he ate. He was still as Logan's family entered the kitchen, bringing noise and children with them. Jean and Scott were right behind with their daughter as well.

Jean had married Scott Summers, one of the highest ranking X-men here. He had been one of Charles' Xavier's first students and was as good as Xavier's Second in Command. Cyclops was his code name on account that he always had to wear protective eyeglasses. His eyes emitted a powerful beam of energy that was quite destructive if not properly controlled. A childhood injury had caused a small amount of damage to his brain, disabling his built in on/off switch so he was forced to wear his special ruby quartz glasses or his working visor at all times. It didn't mean he couldn't see. He took in Kimble's face with a scowl.

Scott had never really approved of Kimble. He had many issues to chose from, but mostly it was Kimble's bizarre sexuality he choked on. The one thing Cyclops prided himself on was his self control, it was essential for being a team leader and it didn't take vacations. He didn't freak out over little things and always had things in good tight order. Kimble was everything he was not. The Siskan was demonstrative with his affection, drawing it out in others. Scott didn't touch, he was naturally stiff and withdrawn, thinking those things were best kept private. He had always had trouble with intimacy and it was only Jean that he was really comfortable with enough to reach out and touch. It was no secret that Kimble and Remy had had a thing a while back. Every time Kimble freaked out and had to be comforted, it was always Gambit who had to take care of it, most often with deep hugs and soft, intimate whispers of soothing words. Things lovers did. Every time Scott saw Remy reach out and touch the Siskan, he couldn't help but cringe a little at the thought of what they had once done with one another. The beatings Kimble took didn't help things either. Scott didn't know if Remy had ever done that to Kimble and the truth was he didn't want to know. What kind of sick freak got off on that? It was horrible.

Cyclops was naturally protective of his family and those around him. More than once he had questioned Charles' wisdom in letting Kimble raise the child he'd found. The Siskan was immature emotionally and worse than that, sexually obscene. Obviously he was still letting others beat him up and didn't seem to have any qualms about letting everyone know about it. Look at those bruises, those scrapes on his wings. When Kimble got tired of that, what was going to keep him from molesting Angel when she got older? Scott didn't think much of Kimble's ethics and morals when he had first come to live here and not much had changed since then.

At least Wolverine was here to keep an eye on things. Scott knew Logan didn't go for any of Kimble's stupid misbehavior any more than he did himself. It was the only thing that kept him from grabbing Angel and running off with her. He wasn't too crazy about Kimble running the daycare center either, but again, Kimble was never there alone and it was in a large open area where the kids could all be seen. There had been no complaints but Cyclops was ever watchful, just in case.

Back in Remy's kitchen, food was passed around, a kind of stony silence between the adults as they chose not to comment on Kimble's condition. No amount of covering up was going to hide the marring of his face. The only relief here was that Remy was still in the infirmary and not here to see it, he would not be released home for another couple of days.

Scott and Jean didn't stay long, they both had projects to do and had mainly come to drop off their daughter for Kimble to watch. Scott hadn't said much, but his eyes never left Kimble's face and Logan just knew this was going to get back to the Professor. No biggie, he had already taken care of it.

"It's a funny thing," Logan said once Scott and Jean had left, spreading butter across his toast. "That guy Grendel asked for a transfer this morning. Seems he wants to go to the Massachusetts school Chuck just opened last year."

Kimble froze, the food in his mouth a lump now too solid to swallow.

"Thank God," Karen said, spooning eggs into Carter's mouth. "The Professor was working so hard with him, but the guy gave me the serious creeps."

Was that the guy with the scales? Molly asked.

"Yup," Logan answered. "Good riddance, I say. Was just a matter of time b'fore he lost it and hurt someone real bad, someone who didn't deserve it. Someone who never deserves it."

Kimble looked up into Wolverine's steel grey eyes boring into him from across the table. Logan's shine was overly bright, it always had been. It was a sign of his healing factor and fierce spirit. It was vibrating now, a sharp message being sent. / You can hide 'em all you want, boy. But I'm gonna find yer lovers, the ones that hurt ya like that. I'll get rid of them all, just like I've done all along. What's this? Yer third or fourth one? Don't matter. They're history. You want to stop this? Stop actin' like a fuckin' punchin' bag when ya don't deserve it. Remy has his ways of dealin' with yer crap, I've got mine. Just wish ya didn't keep makin' me work so hard. /

There was an awkward silence at the table as the two men stared at each other. As usual, Kimble turned away first, dropping his eyes and crumpling a little in his chair. This was Logan's crude way of expressing his love for a member of his family. Logan had never dealt well with his emotions, he kinda worked around them and showed his affections in roundabout, indirect ways. Anyone who knew him well would know that he didn't hate Kimble though it might sound that way sometimes. He was just disappointed that all the effort that had been put into Kimble seemed to be going to waste. He had adopted Kimble like everyone else and as a father, expected a certain amount of discipline. He was punishing Kimble, his intentions honorable if not painless.

"Got enough crap goin' on round this place with Jael, don't need no trouble on the inside," Wolverine continued, munching on his toast.

"Have the patrols turned up anything?" Karen asked, trying to ease some of the tension. The kids were chatting away except for Angel who had her large brown eyes on her father. She touched him lightly and he gave her a reassuring smile that looked anything but. He seemed as though he was ready to cry.

"Nope," Logan replied to his wife's question. If he noticed Kimble's misery he gave no sign. "All's quiet, just as it should be. Whatever Jael's up to, it don't look like it's going to happen here."

Kimble pushed the last of his food around on plate for a minute and then rose, saying nothing to anyone. He left the table and slipped away to the bathroom, trying to get there before the tears could spill out of his eyes. He was so angry and humiliated, enraged by Logan's actions. How dare he! HOW DARE HE! He closed the door behind him and slumped into a corner, pulling a towel over his face and sobbing into it, trying to keep it quiet so no one would hear.

No one seemed to understand that he deserved the punishment, it was the only way for him atone for the sin of just being alive and here to be fought over like some stupid piece of jewelry. Jael was going to keep coming and coming and Kimble could do nothing to stop it. How could he just sit back and let everyone else suffer without feeling some of that pain for himself? It was the only way he knew how to show that he was aware of the price that was being paid for keeping him here.

Wolverine heard him crying well enough, just as he knew Molly did as well. Their ability to hear went well beyond any of the other folks in this room. It was just as well, they didn't want the kids to worry. Logan wasn't without sympathy, he just didn't approve of Kimble's methods. There had to be more constructive ways for Kimble to show his awareness of the sacrifices the others were making for him.

Molly grunted at Wolverine and their eyes met. She shook her head. So that was the guy? she signed at him.

He nodded, chewing on more toast. He knew Kimble would have a fit just like he knew Kimble would get over it. He had seen Kimble's fractured selves for himself and knew that just as Kimble could be weak, he was also stronger than he realized. It was just that the Siskan needed to drop these stupid crutches he kept falling back on. Sooner or later the guy was just going to have to grow up like the rest of us. It was just a crying shame Kimble was taking so damn long. Who was going to get out puberty first? Kimble or Angel?

Why does Kimble punish himself like that? Molly asked. Remy tells him it's wrong but he keeps doing it anyway.

"Cause he's still broken on the inside," Logan replied softly, mindful of the kids. "Sooner or later he'll figure out that it's a waste of time."

"Daddy's really smart," Angel added, feeling a need to say something in defense of her Siskan. "He fixes things that are broken. Carrie broke her radio at the center and he put it all back together again, better than it was before."

"Yeah, it was really busted," Carrie agreed. She was Jean and Cyclops' only child and only a few months younger than Angel. "It's better now than when I first broke it."

"Yer daddy's no idiot, kiddo. That's not what we're sayin'," Logan replied to Angel, cursing the fact that she was the oldest and the most cognizant of all the kids here sitting at the table. "Sometimes he gets upset and gets hurt when he doesn't need to be."

"It's only cause he's scared," she returned, quick as a wink. "He's scared all the time that the bad man is gonna come and take us away. He thinks I don't know about him, but I do. You guys talk about him all the time. Daddy loves all of you and he feels bad that he can't fight. He'd be happier if he could go out and work with you instead of being stuck here all the time."

Logan grunted, startled once more by the grown up words coming out this tiny child. "Daddy's too important to go out with us, kiddo. It ain't safe. Besides, he has to look after you," he offered, not wanting to go into a debate about Kimble's house arrest. Kimble couldn't leave the grounds without SHIELD approval but Angel didn't know that. He wasn't about to tell her because he didn't want her to know that Kimble had murdered. Granted it was one of Kimble's other personalities that had done it but he didn't even want to go there. He didn't want her to lose her faith in her father. No matter what shitty things Kimble did to hurt himself, he didn't deserve that.

"What bad man?" Carrie asked, her eyes wide. She hadn't heard such talk before.

"Nuthin', Pun'kin," Logan replied to her. She was six and still easily distracted by food. "Big people talk. Have some more eggs. You too, Angel. Time fer eatin'."

Angel smiled at him with a face flushed with pride. "I can take care of myself. Uncle Remy is teaching me karate. I got my purple belt already."

There was some scattered laughter among the adults at that. Kids, so naive. Wolverine couldn't help himself but to humor her. "Well, then maybe we should just let you come out and fight with us, then. You can keep us all safe."

"You bet!" she said with a giggle and raised her tiny fists, trying to look so tough. Kind of hard with her bright pink ribbons, but she was putting forth quite an effort. She crooked her arm, making a tiny bicep bulge. "I'll show that bad guy not to hurt my dad!"

Logan busted up laughing at that, he couldn't help himself. The whole room was filled with laughter that dissipated only when Kimble finally slunk out of the bathroom a minute later and mumbled something about doing some work in the daycare center. Today was Saturday and there was no school, but that didn't mean he didn't have projects to do. He wanted to paint and redecorate. No one argued with him as he left with Angel and Carrie, the tension in the kitchen vanished as soon as he was gone.

"Did Grendel really ask for that transfer?" Karen asked.

Logan just grinned. "Yeah, after some 'aggressive negotiating'. Be surprised how persuasive a telepath and a hairy man with claws can be. Wasn't about to let him put his hands on anyone else."

Well, I'm off to be with Remy, Molly signed.

"I'm sure Henry has him doped to the gills. It'll be a couple more hours before he's even awake," Karen said. "Relax."

I can't sit still. I'll go help Kim at the center if Remy's still asleep. I'm sure he could use the company.

"All right then," Karen said, giving her a kiss, and then Molly was gone, heading down to the infirmary. Molly was told there that Remy was in fact awake but that Henry was running him through some tests to be sure the plates were holding the bones properly. He would be busy for a while, a couple of hours at least. She decided not to wait down in the lab so she joined Kimble upstairs. He was quite industrious when he was in a mood and had all the tables and chairs covered up except for one small area where Angel and Carrie were coloring in some books. Kimble had all the windows open for fresh air and the sun was streaming in. He was up on a small stool and had just begun using the roller. Molly joined him and grabbed a brush, working on the trim. Kimble glanced at her and smiled when she grinned at him, setting him at ease. He would be okay, he always was. It was just a matter of time.

Kimble was working but he felt Molly's vibrations slip into him. She lived with two such empaths and couldn't speak, she had adjusted to a way of communicating without words. / I love you Kimble and I'm sorry you're so scared all the time, she was vibrating. / We're all here looking after you, even me. No one is going to let anything happen to you. /

Kimble nodded at her and after a moment, stepped down from his stool and approached her. He made like he was going to freshen his roller, but he stopped to bump her shoulder gently. She set her brush down and pulled him into her arms, holding him tight. They were all so close - the thief, his wife and the pilot. She gently rubbed her claws against his back, a careful scratching of his itches there and he sighed with happiness.

/ Just you wait and see, it's all going to be okay, she vibrated some more and then released him to go back to work. He smiled at her, a genuine one, and she could see he felt better. What a fine room this is, she gestured with her hands. She wanted him to see that she appreciated all of his hard work. He had done most of the construction work and design for the center, choosing the books and the games. They worked on the lesson plans together and he always listened to her, always acknowledged her input and efforts. He was a good teacher and valuable here and she wanted him so much to know it.

"One more coat of paint'll do it. Found some nice trim paper in one of them catalogues you brung in yesterday," he said with a grin, unable to hide the fact he had received her vibration of praise. Like all Siskans he thrived on compliments and signs that others saw his value.

They spent the rest of the morning working on the room until it was time for Molly to go and check on Remy. Kimble was in much better spirits and stayed behind, losing himself in the work. He was best kept busy and he lost track of time, quitting only when the girls tugged on him, ready for lunch.

(break)

Remy had survived his surgery intact and with no complications. He spent three days in the infirmary and was then allowed home. He was puzzled at first when Kimble hadn't come back to see him in the infirmary since that last time, but when he saw Kimble's poor battered face after he was allowed to go home, knew the reason then. He was in no condition to do anything about it. He was groggy from all the pain medication he was on and slept heavily, not learning of the whole Grendel thing until the following day when Logan told him he had taken care of it himself. One look at Kimble's shine told Gambit that Kimble didn't want to discuss it and so it was dropped.

Remy suffered through his surgery and then suffered through more days of physical therapy. He was on crutches and had two stiff and bulky air casts. Henry didn't want to plaster him up in case another surgery was required. Remy just grinned and bore it. At least it was summer and he could dress in shorts for comfort. This wasn't the first time he had been injured in a fight but it was the worst one he had suffered in a long while. His days were filled with hobbling and then a kind of misery as his friends got to go off and fight the good fight while he was stuck at home. He was easily bored and not a good patient so Molly made him come along with him to the daycare center, hoping he would enjoy the time with the kids. He did, playfully spreading mischief and mayhem all the while. He was well loved by all the kids and they danced and played for him, eager for his attention. The room was filled with perpetual laughter.

Kimble laughed along, but more often than not he was sitting at the big bay window, leaving the activities to Molly and her new substitute teacher. He was still suffering from the loss of his lover. It wasn't that he cared so much for Grendel, it was just difficult to find someone willing to do for him what he needed to be done. His punishers were difficult to replace. He was back to brooding again, something Angel didn't like. She sat with him, demanding hugs or making him play with her hair, something they both enjoyed.

Remy's eyes were on Kimble often, trying to gauge what was the depth of his former Siskan's distress. He seemed calm enough, this phase no different than the last time Wolverine had run his last lover off. He had gotten over that one and he would this one as well. Like Logan, Gambit was optimistic about Kimble's ability to cope when he was in a sheltered environment. His world was kept small — the quad, the center, the grounds for sunning. Simple things were Kimble's strength.

Once again Remy fervently prayed to the powers that be that someone would come along and steal Kimble's heart away. He was well aware of Kimble's lingering feelings for him, it was impossible for someone like him to miss, just as he knew Grendel had meant nothing. Kimble had desired punishment from Grendel, not love. Remy had found himself wondering if Kimble was merely waiting, eating up time as Angel grew older. Was it so out of the question for her father to later become her lover? It was what Kimble perceived a true Mistress or Master to be. Remy was just Siskan enough inside from what had been done to him to accept such a thing, but he doubted the others here would find it the least bit amusing. Was Kimble's life to be one huge emotional conflict after another? There were times he questioned the wisdom of his desire to keep Kimble alive. Many times the pilot had begged for death only to have his request refused by those who thought they knew better.

/ Stop thinking like that, Shi'ow-ri chided. / You're being morose. You won't improve his mood. /

Je suis de'sole, cher. Just dat he's broodin' again.

/ Play with him. /

I'm too broken at de moment, 'case you didn't notice.

/ Then just don't leave him alone. As long as you're around, he won't do anything stupid. /

I gotta get Jael off 'is back once an' for all. Dere's got to be a way. Jus' 'aven't figured it out yet. Jus' a little more time, chere. Gambit will get it all worked out.

Gambit liked to think positive about things and had taken some comfort in the fact that Jael had been very quiet. A month had passed since the attack and all was still. There had been no attacks at the house, no more attempts to lure X-men from the house to kidnap them for ransom. No big bombings on the outside had happened. Looked like Jael was keeping a low profile. He had no idea that all of that was about to come to an abrupt and bloody end.

To be continued in Disaster.