Now, before anyone starts asking: no, I'm not doing something drastic to the original story. I'm just tired of how bad it looks and therefore decided it needed sprucing. That, and I really needed to do this but was too busy putting it off due to the sheer amount of effort and time it would take to do this.

So, as usual, I don't own Wolverine and the X-men, I only have control over my OC, who you will shortly meet.

Enjoy!

Hindsight, Part 1

Being a mutant in the past meant a low profile, with some of us having the confidence to be seen in public. But all that changed a year ago, when we were somehow exposed to the government. Well, as anyone can guess, those without mutant powers became scared of those who did, so we were chased down and dragged into metal cages by a group of people known as the MRD, or the Hunters as some of us have come to call them.

When mutants were being harassed by said Hunters, I took it upon myself to help those who were in danger of being caught. Even though it worries my mother, older and younger brother and uncle to no ends, I felt it my duty to help those who needed it.

Hey, I am class five mutant with morals and a motherly/older sisterly instinct-what can you do about it?

#######

My name is Alenka Jones, and I am a mutant. Class five at that, but not a lot of people knew just how strong my powers could get. Sometimes my instincts could be a little out of control, but in the end I always came out the victor. Until a week ago; I was helping a group of teens flee from the Hunters but I used myself as a shield while they escaped. The Hunters caught me.

They dumped me into a cell in their large detention centre, with not much containing me except for the solid metal of my cage and laser beams running horizontally across. They didn't do much to me, aside from asking me about all the mutants I knew about, and giving me something to eat. I would watch as they brought in more mutants, occasionally talking to them. A few I vaguely recognized, and vice versa. But none of the mutants that were brought in were someone that I knew on a personal level; namely my mother and brothers.

#######

On Monday night (I had asked a guard what the day was, and he obliged with telling me) as I sat in my cell, the one across from me was opened and the guards placed in not one, but a small family. There was a man with dark skin, a small beard and glasses. The woman had pretty long red hair and was Caucasian colored. The third was a little girl, with both parents traits: long hair and dark-ish skin. She clutched at her parents as they huddled together on the single bench in their cell, looking at their surroundings apprehensively. I felt sorry for them, the girl particularly, so I rose to my feet and stood at the foot of my cell and looked at them.

"Are you all right?" I asked them kindly, catching their attention. The parents shrunk a little bit, not that I blamed them; I did look a tad...imposing, I guess. My height was 5'8'' (somewhat short for a 19 year old), my build was the type of being that little bulky in the chest department but not by much, lean and taught. My eyes, according to my mother and uncle, were what people reacted too; they were a shade of sky blue that held half of a strength that assured people, a quarter of mischievous nature and another quarter of sadness for some unknown reason. But most of the time, they tell me that I have the eyes of a much wiser person than of my age. And my accent usually caught them too.

"You're not injured?" I asked the family, casually leaning against the edge of my cell, but not close enough to be laser burned. It was the little girl who spoke first. "No, we're not." she said in a soft voice, looking at me over her father's arms. "It's all right, little one." I chuckled gently, "I mean no harm to you all; I never use my powers against a family." They seemed to relax a little bit, but they still didn't loosen up too much. "So what brings you all in?" I asked them, "It's not like the Hunters to bring in a family of mutants and stick them in the same cell."

"We're not mutants." the father told me, making my eyebrows rise a little bit.

"Not mutants?" I asked them.

"Uh-uh." the little girl said, shaking her head.

"Fremd." I spoke softly in German, falling into an old habit of mine, "Warum wuerden die Jaeger eine Nichtmutant-Familie festnehmen?" I never got the chance to ask them in English why they were here; a hissing noise down the hall caught my attention. I looked to the side the noise came from, instantly knowing who was coming.

The question burned in my mind as three men walked towards the cell that held the family. Two of them were regular MRD Hunters, the third was a higher-on-the-food-chain person with a bald head. They came to a complete stop in front of their cell. Concerning the child, I stood to a loose attentive state. "Tell me about the mutant." the bald headed man ordered, a deadly chill in his voice, as though he was trying to contain his anger over something. The husband and his daughter stood up, holding each others hand for strength.

"We don't know what you're talking about." The little girl told him in a cold voice. I was actually amazed that someone so young could muster that courage within themselves. "He's name is Wolverine, and he's very dangerous." Baldy stated to her, his voice getting darker and losing the patient tone. He obviously wanted answers about this character, who sounded quite the trouble maker. The little girl narrowed her eyes at the man. "He is not." she firmly said. I titled my head slightly as I let my telepathic powers seeped into her mind. I saw flashbacks of her recent past, her trapped in a flaming caravan, waking to find herself outside thanks to a mutant with something metallic coming out of his hands. I pulled my powers away as I noticed the bald headed man step closer to the cell.

"Yes, he is." He snarled, making the little girl scurry into the safety of her parents arms. I growled angrily at the display; I was very, very against those who were violent towards children, even if it's just words.

"Well look at that?" I asked sarcastically, "It's not every day you see a human walking around with a melon on his shoulders. Whoever runs this place must have bad taste in recruiting head officers." The bald headed man turned at looked at me with a face only a drunken person could love, with an evil glare to boot. "Oh, entsculdigen Sie mich; that's not a melon." I said, making a mock face of apology, "that's someone else's buttocks."

The occupants of the other cells were sniggering and laughing at my comment, which made the sting all that more painful. "What gives you the right to talk to me like that, mutant?" he demanded angrily, spit flying as he spoke. He said the word 'mutant' like it left more than a sour taste in his mouth.

"Apart from the fact that you detained a non-mutant family; you have a bland sense of fashion, no sense of humor, ugly as all sin." I paused then smirked evilly, "And your means of containment are mediocre, at best." Before he could challenge me I raised my right hand and snapped my fingers. The instant I did, my Dynamokinesis surged through the laser beams covering my cage, causing some of the ports to short circuit and others to overload, thus they disappeared.

The three humans, plus the family behind them looked stunned at my display of power. "And that's only one of my talents." I smirked triumphantly, leaning against the side with my arms crossed over my chest. Suddenly the cells of mutants erupted into hollers and wolf whistles, making the bald headed man very angry indeed. "Silence!" he roared, everyone doing as ordered without a peep. He turned back to me with an evil glower on his face. "Think you're so clever, don't you?" He sneered at me.

"Well the fact my cell has no means of containing me is plain to see." I replied, gently scratching the tip of my nose with a finger, "and the fact I haven't knocked you, your men and practically any non-mutant in this base and escaped with those contained means I'm not stupid enough to try something as risky as that." This seemed to make some sense to the otherwise pitifully stupid-minded ugly man, otherwise he wouldn't be giving me a cold, sinister looking smug look. I braced myself, ready to fight in case I needed to. "All right, mutant." he said in a low voice, "I'll make you a deal."

"My answer is no." I instantly replied in a steely voice, having snuck a peek into his mind via telepathy, "I will not reveal the location of any mutant that I might know, nor will I assist the MRD with using my powers to detain those who are of my kind."

A brief surprised look passed over his face, then he caught on to the fact that I had used telepathy to know just what he was going to ask me. Then his smirk grew more sinister, and I could tell this meant serious business. The disadvantage of my telepathy powers; they don't exactly work everytime I wanted to use them. "We shall see about that, mutant." He sneered, nodding to the two guards beside me. They came closer to me and roughly grabbed me by my arms, forcing between them. I didn't see much point in struggling...just yet. The two guarded dragged me after their superior to a room that frankly was creepy beyond anything I'd ever seen in my life.

There was nothing much but a chair that was supported by a beam that hung from the ceiling. The soldiers forced me into the chair, which immediately clamped around around my wrists, legs and shoulders, preventing me from moving. "Now, one last chance, mutant." The bald headed man told me as he held a remote control in his hands. I growled lowly, like a feral dog, and snarled at him, spooking the two guards that had placed me in this chair. "You're the real mutant that people should be afraid of." I snarled viciously, "Imprisoning a non-mutant family is the worst mistake to make; once everyone finds out-"

"But they won't." he cut in in a cold voice before pressing a button on the control in his hands. Metal covered my head and my eyes, blocking out my sight of the room. For a second there was nothing but silence, then... "Christus!" I shouted in both surprise and pain as a piercing wave of shock energy coursed through my body. My shouting then turned to screaming as the pain continued through my body, spreading everywhere. My white polo shirt was becoming uncomfortable as sweat seeped out from every pore in my body. My muscles spasm against the metal binding me, the pain becoming even more unbearable as my body got weaker from the torture.

"Doesn't it just hurt?" A sickly sweet voice taunted me, sounding far away from me. Tears fell down my face, mingling with my sweat. Whatever sanity was left with me begged me not to give into what this man was saying. I was stronger than this, I would not let myself be the reason that mutants were to suffer this night. My German pride would never allow me to. "So weak, and pathetic. How does it feel, not having anyone you care about around you, to save you?" the man asked me in a cruelly delighted voice as he watched me scream and thrash in pain. 'I'd rather save myself than let them help me!' I wanted to yell out, but a feeling in the depth of my mind said just to keep on screaming, even though it was becoming hoarse and croaked.

"Alenka Jones. 5' 8''. 19 years old. Brown hair, blue eyes. A past honors student, with a special interest in sports and arts. A black belt in martial arts. Telepathic, controls the elements and energy manipulator; I can only imagine those 'other' talents of yours." My shirt and jeans were becoming even more unbearable to sit in, sweat covering my whole body and tears slipping down my face. :I won't let him get me, I won't let him get me.: I told myself, struggling to keep myself screaming and not blab out anything mutant related. I gritted my teeth together so tightly they started to hurt before grunting out, "Die in hell, Ungeheuer!" The pain increased what felt like ten fold, making my entire body feel something similar to an epileptic seizure, before it was suddenly taken away.

My body sagged against the cold metal, my lungs greedily sucking in any air they could find as phantasms of pain flickered through my body, making my muscles contract slightly before relaxing. :Oh god, that was...No mutant should have to go through that!: I managed to think before the metal was taking off my head, to be replaced with ugly's head. At closer inspection, he looked worse, and his breath stunk terribly! "Tell me about the mutants you know about!" he demanded loudly, assaulting my ears with his voice. I gathered whatever strength left in my body to get my mouth working to speak. "Gehen Sie zum Teufel, du arshloch." I managed to say, albeit weakly. He growled lowly as he stood back and turned to one of the guards in the room. "Take her to Grimm." He ordered, handing the soldier a letter of some sort. The same soldier came towards me as the metal restraints around me opened up. I was yanked to my feet, but since my body felt shot, tired and achy, I just stumbled to my hands and knees on the floor only to be grabbed underneath my arms and half dragged from the room to another.

#######

If I had hopes of the next room being my cell, I was sadly mistaken; I was taken straight passed the detention area, where the little girl and her parents watched with shocked eyes as I was dragged past, the same look mirrored on the other mutants that I passed by. The next room froze everything in my body to the point where I couldn't honestly move my muscles again.

In general, it looked like a freakish version of a hospitals operating room, only dark with grey walls and the bitter smell of terror, sweat and blood. In the centre of the room underneath the lights was a table large enough for a person to lay on, with several small tables and cabinets surrounding it, all holding different looking kinds of blades, whips plus other dangerous looking things. The soldier who dragged me here let me go, and since I couldn't stand on my own I practically sank onto the floor with a grunt. "Ouch." I said quietly, slowly getting my hands to push at least half of me up, ignoring the biting sensation in my hands where the metal floor grill pressed against.

As I lifted my throbbing head up I saw the soldier talking to a man sitting at a desk. He looked mid 40's, with thinning red hair and pale skin. He had a look of boredom on his face, but as the soldier handed him a letter, the look of boredom turned into one of sick, psychotic delight. :Oh, schieisse.: I gulped as the soldier walked past me, his foot kicking one of my hands out, making me fall back onto the floor with a small grunt. "Karma beisst Sie besser auf dem Kolben dafuer." I groaned quietly as I lay on my side. Whoever was left in the room walked over to me, stopping at my head. "Well then, Miss Jones, it seems our fun together is about to begin." The man told me, "If you'd be so kind to get on the table." I gave a sour grunt as I looked up at him.

"Do I look like the type to be obeying orders right now?" I asked, half sarcastically and half whiny. He just gave a low evil chuckle before bending down and yanking me up by my arm before pushing me onto the table. The impact left me groaning in pain and out of breath. "True; that inferior machine they use is mediocre at best." He said as he bound my ankles and wrists with leathers straps, "but effective. It's rare for me to have anyone to torture for fun nowadays."

:And I just happen to be the newest addition to that list.: I thought sardonically as I watched him pick up an absolute monster looking knife-like metal prong which had been heated up to red hot, and my stomach drooped about five miles.

:Oh...crap.:

"So, care to tell me what General Moss wants to know?" He asked me, fingering the cooler part of the metal as he brandished it in front of my face. "Oh, das ist wird wie Hoelle schmerzen." I gulped quietly as I eyed the torture implement, then remembered why I was here in the first place, and found just that little bit extra strength. "How about no?" Grimm, I think that's he's name, shrugged before bringing the heated knife down against my right upper arm.

The smell of burning skin and intense pain burned me stronger than the loud scream that blasted from my already sore throat. The stench of burning skin got to me first, making my stomach roil and want to barf up any food in my stomach. "On a scale of one to ten, how did that hurt?" Grimm mocked as he pulled the knife away from me. I just lay there gasping as the pain glazed my eyes over. :Ok, God, I know I don't pray or have a religion, but please help me!: I prayed within myself, hoping to find more hidden strength to fight this.

When I didn't respond, Grimm used the heated knife-brand more. I felt the same pain two more times on the same right arm he just maimed, then once against my fore arm "The more you resist telling me, the more this will hurt." Grimm sighed in a sadistic sing-song way; he was enjoying this so much that I was beginning to question he's sanity. I gritted my teeth and kept silent. My left upper arm felt three burning white hot sensations before my left forearm felt the same thing.

"Bumsen Sie, ich gebe!" I screamed finally. Grimm pulled the brand away from the palms of my hands and looked at me in surprise. "So soon?" he asked, sounding innocent, "what a pity." I just growled lowly as I gritted my teeth together. But instead of talking, I used those precious seconds to get back my breath and sanity, because I just knew that this wasn't going to end well for me.

"What? Not going to talk after all?" he asked me before smirking, "A masochist after my own heart." The smell of my blood and sweat made me want to gag and puke, but my protectiveness over others safety overcame the urge to talk and condemn my friends and family.

"Go to hell." I growled then screamed bloody murder as the brand went across my right upper thigh then against my collarbone, and twice on my left thigh. Grimm had gotten tired of the heated up knife brand, so he 'upgraded' to a smaller knife, better known as a scalpel. Well, at least this sort of pain I could handle, but for how long?

As I tried to catch my breath, I heard a small swish in the air and instinctively duck my head, the sharp blade cutting across my forehead on the right side and against my left cheek. He moved lower and scratched me deeply on my left shin before deepening the knife brand injury on my right thigh by cutting with the scalpel across it, making the pain there even worse than before.

My screams filled the room, soon followed by the sounds of a whip cracking. Grimm had lost his patience and switched the scalpel for a three tailed whip, which hurt a lot. The pain spread from my left thigh to my right shin, then across my stomach God know how many times. Somewhere between 1 and infinite my voice finally crackled out, dying on me.

Grimm paused, the both of us catching our breaths.

God, I just wanted to die already, or slip into a coma so I wouldn't have to feel this anymore. I could feel small trickles of blood seeping from every wound, the skin feeling raw and very tender. Grimm straightened up after he caught his breath again, weighing the whip in his hands. I don't know what possessed me; whether my mind, or body-or both- had finally caved in to the pain, but I mustered the last of my strenght and sent out a message to anyone close by, even if it seemed like all was over. I kept my eyes closed and waited for the end.

But before Grimm raised the whip over his head, the door opened with a low hissing noise. There was a slight pause in the air as it turned confused, but that quickly changed when someone, or something, gave a low guttural snarl that sounded absolutely furious before whatever it was lunged over the top of me and into Grimm.

I wanted to open my eyes to see what was happening, but I was tired and my body ached for rest. My curiosity won over me in the end, my eyes softly blinking past the blood, sweat and tears that had fallen into my eyes. Whoever had interrupted the torture session had slammed Grimm against a wall, effectively knocking the hateful man out cold, before he turned to look at me, letting me get a good look at them.

It was obviously a man, in a yellow and navy blue uniform, a cowl covering half their face, and it didn't take a biology major to know that this guy had strength. Insane strength. And an almost feral aura surrounded him, making my already frayed nerves stand on end. Something inside of my mind wanted to scream, but...for some strange reason, my heart was saying trust him.

I flinched when he started to move closer, the fear coming back to me. He saw this, as the metal claws that came from his hands returned with a soft 'chink' noise. He slowly walked to me, both hands raised in a gesture meaning he didn't want to hurt me. I held myself still even though I was shaking like a leaf as he drew closer, and despite him being half masked and unale to see his eyes, I could tell he was eyeing the injuries over my body.

"It'll be ok, darlin'." He assured me in a low gravelly voice as he untied the leather strap around my right wrist, which had cut into the surrounding skin thanks to all my thrashing. He untied the ankle straps then the final strap around my left wrist before he slid one arm underneath my shoulders and gently eased me into a sitting position. I groaned when I leaned a little too far forward for my scarred stomach to handle, but I knew better than to touch it, unless I wanted to pain to be worse.

In a lazy, drunken sort of manner I managed to slid my legs over to the side of the table and tried standing up for myself. But the whips marks on my right lower leg hurt me terribly, and exploded in pain as soon as I leaned a little weight on them, making me buckle violently. I was grateful for the man quicklyy moving to support me; otherwise sinking to the floor would've been a bad move. "I c-can't move." I whimpered in pain, my voice threatening to erupt into sobbing, "It hurts too much."

He seemed to understand my pain, so he gently eased his arm underneath my legs and scooped me up, holding me close against him. I was able to keep one arm wrapped around his neck with the other cradled against my chest, one of the only places that Grimm didn't mar. I whimpered in pain as my bloodied scars burned, but I didn't say anything else. "Hang on, darlin'." He spoke in a gentle gruff tone, "It's almost over." Then he swiftly ran through the hallways, his grip around me secure so I wasn't jostled around too much, with as much grace as a panther in full flight.

My breath was very shaky, the air blowing against me very cold, especially because of all the sweating I had been doing. I felt so tired and so sore. "Hang on there, darlin'." the man carrying me urged quietly, "Just hang on. Don't fall asleep on me yet. Try to stay awake, ok?"

"O-o-ok." I whispered in a shivering voice, my forehead resting against his neck as I struggled to keep my eyes open when everything in my body slowly fell to sleep. A short while he came to a stop, and I could hear the murmur of voices, and a small growling. There was a low growling noise that sounded familiar to me, but my mind couldn't-or wouldn't-place it. The voices stopped when someone gasped, and I could only imagine why. "Oh, my lord." a male's voice breathed, "What have they done to that poor girl?"

"Is she...Is she all right?" a small innocent voice asked, sounding close to tears. It sounded like Erica.

"She's ok." My rescuerer assured everyone then turned his attention to someone else, "Hank, can you carry her? I gotta clear the way." An angered growl filled the air, making it feel threatening.

"Make that the both of us." the man corrected himself.

"Of course, hand her over." the first voice replied as I was gently passed from one set of arms to another. My injuries burned from the fresh contact, making me hiss in pain before my body shuddered violently. "Her injuries may be infected; we need to get her back to the mansion to clean them before it turns worse." The person carrying me stated.

"Then we'd better move fast." the man with a gravelly voice replied, "let's go."

#######

Everyone started running again, the noises around me varying from loud to soft, meaning I was on my way of being unconscious. Whoever was carrying me had an odd gait as he ran, which sometimes jostled my wounds, but all I could do was moan and hiss in pain. Ahead I could hear the sounds of two vicious animal-like beasts, and wild gunfire and a lot of vehicles.

The sounds began to blend in together, which didn't really mean something good. Whoever was carrying me placed me against something cold, which made my body shiver violently again. There was a soft whimpering noise beside my head as a wet something pressed against the area on my right shoulder that wasn't hurt before something licked my shoulder. :Sister...: I heard a soft whisper float across my mind, making my hand twitch as I lifted it up in the air slightly.

Whatever had licked me moved its head from my shoulder, and something furry and large gently lifted its head against my hand, trying not to hurt it. I let out a shaky breath as I felt a soothing wave flow through my body, the sounds becoming even more mingled together, as a soft calming peaceful feeling washed over my body, making it relax. A large hand pressed against my forehead, as if checking my temperature. "Hey mates, this sheila doesn't look too good." A strong Australian accented voice spoke up, catching someone's attention.

There was a shuffling noise before the man with the deep gruff voice spoke to me. "Darlin', can you hear me?" it asked, becoming fainter and fainter, just like the other noises, "Darlin'?" My mind finally lost consciousness and I slipped into quiet darkness.

#######

The next time I woke up, I was somewhere entirely different to what I had recently gotten used to. I was lying on something soft, some sort of blanket over the top of me. A soft, comforting rumbling hum greeted my ears, making my brain want to wake up properly. I felt my eyes squint a little as I moaned quietly, before slowly opening my eyes away from the the light.

Once I could see properly again, I carefully moved my head so I could look around were I was. I couldn't tell much by way of location, but then I was distracted by the strange sight before me. It was a large man, with blue fur and skin. He wore brown pants, a green polo T-shirt and a white lab coat. He was also scribbling notes onto a clipboard, a pair of delicate reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. At present he looked rather comical, despite being so large and frightening.

I opened my mouth and attempted to ask where I was, but as soon as I felt air in my throat I started coughing weakly. Thankfully it caught the strange person's attention. "Oh I'm terribly sorry, my dear child." he said as he came over, "I didn't realize you were awake." he stood beside me, helping me sit up slightly as he helped me drink from a glass of water. After my dry throat was cooled by the liquid and the glass taken away, the blue man moved his glasses to on top of his head as he introduced himself, "my name is Doctor Henry McCoy. You may call me Hank, or Beast, if you prefer. And your name would be?"

"A-Alenka Jones." I replied weakly as my head lay back down on the pillow beneath me, "wh-where am I?"

"You're at the X-men headquarters." Hank explained to me before looking about the room, "well, the soon to be head quarters of the X-men."

"Wh-who are the X-men?" I asked him, frowning a little, "I heard r-rumors, but that is all I h-hear on the streets." Hank seemed a little surprised that I knew the X-men existed, but soon that shock passed over. "The X-men are a group of mutants, fighting for the rights of all mutants." Hank explained for me, "Ultimately our goal is to see a peace being brought between mutants and humans. We do that by saving both mutants and humans."

It was an interesting proposition he had set up. It sounded like something I had been doing before I was captured by the Hunters. I closed my eyes for a brief second, frowning a little as I moved my body a smidgen: my legs had gotten pins and needles, and my arms felt heavy. There were phantasms of pain across my body, but they didn't seem as bad as when I first gotten the injuries. "How bad do I look?" I asked him, re-opening my eyes and looking up at him.

"Physically, you're doing remarkably well. Your injuries I've cleaned as best as I could. The brand marks are likely to scar permanently. The whips mark will fade over time, as will the scalpel marks." Hank explained to me, "But I am concerned about your condition mentally; I haven't a clue what they might have done."

"Mostly jeering and taunting me." I replied weakly, "it it something I am used to by now, ever since I arrived here in America four years ago." If Hank wanted to ask where I was originally from, he'd have to wait till another time; I couldn't seem to stop yawning or keep my eyes open. "It's probably best if you get some sleep right now, Miss Jones." Hank informed me quietly, "your body has been under tremendous stress and needs to rest."

"R-right." I agreed sleepily. Hank pulled the sheets over my body and up to my chin before he walked over to the open door way. "Oh, Alenka, if you happen to see another man walking around or checking up on you; don't be alarmed, it's just Logan. He won't hurt you." I nodded, unable to keep my eyes open any longer.

"Good n-night, Hank," I said sleepily, "and thank you, f-for rescuing me and the other mutants." Hank looked back at me with a warm smile on his face. "You're very welcome, my dear." he replied with a nod before flicking off the light, leaving me in partial darkness; the only light coming from somewhere down to right, but it wasn't strong enough to bother me. I closed my eyes, feeling the blanket move slightly as I stretched my body a little, before I was finally consumed by a numbing sleep.

And that be it for now!

German= English:

Fremd= Strange.

Warum weirerden die Jaeger einer Nichtmutant-Famlilie festnechmen= Why would the Hunters capture a non-mutant family?

Entschuldigen Sie mich= Excuse me.

Christus= Christ.

Gehen Sie zum Teufel, du arshlock= Go to Hell, you asshole.

Schieisse= Oh, crap / Oh, shit.

Karma beisst Sie besser auf dem Kolben daufer= Karma better bite you on the buttt for this.

Das ist wird Hoelle schmerzen= Oh, this is going to hurt like hell.

Bumsen Sie, ich gebe= Fuck, I give.

Alenka has such a lovely language, doesn't she? Well, till next we meet, I say:sieh Sie alle nächstes Mal!