Log: Shattered - the breaking of Cain Marko.

[x-juggernaut.livejournal.com]

Part One: Tuesday, 2:05 am. While helping Alison with an experiment to gain control of her laser powers, something goes horribly awry and changes Cain Marko forever.


"Hey, what could it hurt? Not me, obviously"

Cain glanced around furtively, waiting in the medlab at an hour
usually reserved for insomniacs, vampires, and Ron Popeil
infomercials. He'd managed to pick a time to slip in when Moira was
hard at work in her office, and both the other doctors were fast
asleep. Really, he thought to himself, he should have grabbed Doc
MacTaggart for this, but it was going to be oddly awkward already.

As part of her therapy to regain control over her power, Alison had
been running through exercises designed by Hank and Moira to focus her
lasers through a prism. Something about a properly focused laser not
being dispersed by a prism, or some other junk. So far, Alison had
melted three pieces of expensive lab equipment. So Cain had
surreptitiously offered himself as a test piece.

"I got a prism right here, and you ain't gotta worry about melting
ME.", he'd said. After all, the Army had run laser tests on the
gem without any effect. So here Cain found himself, having
inexplicably volunteered to be a lab rat. In his own way, he figured
it was something of an atonement for not being there to protect Alison
when - no, he'd promised himself he wouldn't dwell on that. He was
doing what he could.

The door opened, and Cain jerked his head up, smiling at Alison.

She smiled back in return, the synthsilk suit gleaming in the meblab's
lighting. The test runs had been frustrating to say the least, with
everything stalled simply because she kept slagging the prisms that
they'd been using for the tests, which meant she'd been stuck at a
plateau in her training for nearly a week now. Cain's offer, which
Moira has told her about, had been a welcome surprise although Alison
still wasn't entirely sure about it.

"Hey," she moved closer, far less awkwardly than during the first few
weeks after she'd been released from the medlab. "Are you sure about
this?" While she didn't think he would have answered otherwise, Alison
found herself needing to hear it anyway. "I mean, I know and all," she
waved at his chest a bit, "but... I'm not used to people letting me
take shots at them like that, I guess." A disarming grin followed the
statement, Alison feeling a bit sheepish - she was antsy about this,
but at the same time the chance to actually get those final
sets of readings they needed wasn't something she could outright pass
over.

Cain shrugged. "Doc seems to think it's got a shot. And come on, I had
Rasputin hammering away at me full-strength a while back and I didn't
even break a sweat. Doc says this little photometerthingy should
register green when your laser's focused." Cain indicated the device
which looked more like a miniature satellite dish than anything else.

Pausing for a moment with his hands at the top button of his shirt,
Cain looked down at himself, then sheepishly up at Alison. Finally he
let out a small nervous chuckle. "Well, hell, ain't like I got
anything you haven't seen before," he drawled nervously as he
unbuttoned the flannel. He'd left the shielding out in the medlab for
safe keeping. While he may be invulnerable, he wasn't too sure about
that chunk of bronzed metal.

"Piotr hitting away at you and my lasers? Not exactly the same thing,"
Alison pointed out, smiling just a bit at his shyness. It was cute.
Very much so. Alison glanced at the very new and shiny looking
measuring unit off to the side and blushed just a bit, still
embarrassed over what had happened the last time. "Maybe this one
won't get all blown up to bits at least," she muttered, looking
somewhat sheepish despite the grumbling. Well, if Moira thought it was
safe... "Did she explain to you how we generally run through things?"

Cain shrugged off his shirt, neatly folding it and setting it off to
the side of the photometer. "Well, she said to turn this on, have you
do your laser thing, and when the light turns green to tell her the
little numbers that show here." He pointed to the machine's screen and
spread his arms dramatically. "Besides, she's right in her office, and
if anything goes wrong, I'll raise her on the intercom."

"If anything goes wrong she'll come tearing down here and give me That
Look again for blowing something up, is what she'll do." Alison
grinned though, shaking her head. "It won't be instantaneous. She's
had me working my way up through intensities and all that jazz. I
don't have to start with the very basics, but I will start with a
fairly low level laser before working my way up to the stronger stuff.
My focus still isn't what it could be - the knowledge is there but the
nerves are still frazzled." They just couldn't measure how badly so
unless the focus she was using didn't stop melting.

Cain simply smiled. "Never let it be said I don't let a woman warm
herself up first." He cracked his knuckles, then positioned the sensor
and sat down on a small stool in the middle of the room. Running a
hand over the faceted surface of the gem, he took a deep breath and
turned to Alison. "So hey, whenever you're ready - fire away."

She snickered at the joke, shaking her head at him even as she moved
back just a bit to take up position. The light leakage had stopped two
weeks ago, but she her sound to light conversion rate was still wildly
different from what it had originally been - it also meant she could
probably run through the first series of tests without even needing to
power up, which was why she hadn't bothered bringing anything to power
herself with into the room itself. The sonic device she'd left outside
would do fine after they took the first break.

"Well then. Increments of about thirty seconds between each change of
intensity, thirty seconds for each plateau to be reached. If I have
problems keeping things stable I'll let you know and we'll pause. If
anything feels odd to you, let me know and we'll stop."

Taking a moment to focus, Alison then raised her hands, pointing with
the right in a gunlike gesture while keeping it supported with the
other. Starting with a simple targeting light she then took a deep
breath and upped the intensity, going through the same exercises they
had been doing the entire week, stage by stage. The usual pain
accompanying the use of her power started to flare up slowly until it
took over from the habitual physical ache that was still with her,
Alison keeping tabs on it only because Moira had threatened her with
Very Dire Things if she didn't track that as well.

Cain looked down with a sort of awe. Actually seeing Alison's power at
work was something he hadn't quite become accustomed to. The laser,
little more than a focused flashlight beam, played over the surface of
the laser until Alison managed to find the right angle to make it
reflect around. Cain whistled appreciatively.

"Feels fine there, so far," he announced. The glow wasn't even all
that bright, he thought. From his experiences, the gem would tend to
glow at seemingly random moments, but he paid it no mind. "Nothing
here, not even an itch. Although-" Cain's nose twitched. He wasn't
burning, he'd definitely have noticed that. Nothing around him was,
but he seemed to be almost smelling that weird scent of... fire?

"Hmm," he corrected himself. "Nope, nothing wrong here. Go ahead and
ramp it up if you feel up to it."

Her eyes narrowed at that a touch and she actually kept to the same
intensity for longer, stretching out the moment for another full
thirty seconds to make sure everything was all right before slowly
nudging the intensity higher. There was a prickling at the back of her
neck or so it felt like and she remembered the sensation from when
she'd overloaded. It was something Alison knew would happen eventually
as she pushed her power harder though and despite the eerie feeling it
produced she kept going. It was just as disturbing to feel your
every nerve slowly being dipped in ice and then fire, but there was
nothing to be done about it. And stopping was not an option she
was allowing herself.

"Starting to hit decent levels now," she murmured, smiling a bit as
she focused directly on the crystal. It was satisfying to realize that
nothing was disrupting her concentration so far, unlike the first days
of training. "We're about five minutes away from when the prisms would
give out."

The crystal had started to glow as Alison's laser bounced around
within, reflecting off of the myriad facets. Cain could hear the
slight crackle of the air heating around the beam, and then that
peculiar smell. Hot air? No, it was almost organic. Not like burning
wood, or bodies. Sickly sweet, cloying. For a moment, Cain swore he
was smelling... jungle?

There it was. That feeling of sweat, even though he knew his skin was
bone-dry. The red light from the gem grew stronger as Alison increased
the intensity of her beam. Cain kept his face impassive, making a note
to mention this to Moira later. He'd gone a while without thinking
back to the war, and whatever was bringing it to the forefront of his
thoughts now was something she'd probably want to talk about.
Definitely not something he was enjoying remembering.

But that wasn't important now, he thought. Alison was making progress,
and if this helped, then so be it. Attempting to push the overflowing
memories to the back of his mind, Cain squinted through the red light
at Alison. "Doing... great." he said through uncharacteristically
clenched teeth.
She may have been concentrating on keeping the laser as focused as
possible, but the tone of his voice was still hard to miss. She never
once glanced away from what she was doing however, noting the glow of
the gem although it wasn't anything like what any of the prisms used
previously had done before expiring messily. "We're near the last
monitored level before I go higher…" she spoke slowly, not moving as
light poured from her hands. "Are you sure? You sound a bit strained."
And not being able to check clearly herself meant she was relying on
him for the right answer. Knowing he was invulnerable was one thing -
actually continuously firing at him with a laser was something else
entirely.

"Said I'm fine..." Cain blurted out, then took a deep breath. "You're
doing great, just keep that up." A red tinge was coloring Cain's
vision, but he chalked it up to the light. He was starting to see
forms behind Alison. Probably just afterimages from the brightness, he
rationalized. Shadows reflected by the light.

Everything suddenly seemed to have a brief moment of clarity then -
images seemed to coalesce. A jungle, men running and falling. Mouths
screaming soundlessly as bodies fell, cut down by unheard gunfire.
Cain closed his eyes against the glare, trying to will the images away
in his mind. "Keep going," he repeated. To himself, he kept just
repeating the mantra in his head. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make
it stop.

One overbearing answer echoed back.

I will not be stopped.

The gem in his chest was reacting in an entirely normal way and with
the reassurance that she should go on, Alison did just that, the
intensity of the light gradually shifting in response. The breaking
point was passed with her holding her breath, ready to slam the brakes
on everything even though she knew there was not a single thing
she could do that would bring Cain to harm.

Pain flaring along her nerves, Alison concentrated on what she was
doing, nearly blocking everything else at this point but the control
she was exercising on her power and the sight of the gem straight
before her, glowing steadily brighter in response. The small flicker
of red in the center of her laser nearly threw her off for a heartbeat
and she snapped her entire attention to the gem itself.

Time froze.

The beam seemed to ricochet through the gem almost audibly, sending
out glowing beams from every facet. The laser, now pulsing bright red,
refracted all around, filling the entire room with a crimson light.

Through the light, Cain could see everything that had been going
through his mind. Actually SEE it - right in front of him. All around.
There wasn't the room any more, everything was the jungle, tinged red
as if seen through a veil of blood and rage.

They'd been on patrol, and the VC had ambushed them. Perfect defilade,
automatic weapons barking from the woodline and buried explosives
going off everywhere. Cain could see the men - HIS men - hitting the
deck, some trailing lengths of flesh where their limbs used to be.
Their silent screams made no sound, but their words were obvious.

Help us. Help us in the name of God please help us.

And he was running. The branches in his face, the heat of the battle
at his back. Storming over fallen logs and through stagnant
mosquito-infested streams, Cain Marko ran. After hours of mindless
running, it seemed, he fell to his hands and knees. Dirt, blood, and
sweat were caked on his skin, on his uniform, all over him. His weapon
had been dropped in the fray, as had his pack. All that he had was
himself, alone in the jungle. Alone with his anger.

Blinking back tears of shame, Cain watched the images around him spin,
showing him the moment when he'd stepped into that temple. Buried in
the Vietnamese jungle, lost for centuries. He saw that idol,
moss-covered and dome-headed, bearing that scintillating jewel. Where
other men would have felt awe, or greed, Cain Marko only felt raw
anger. Anger at himself, at his platoon for falling into that ambush,
at the Corps for sending its loyal men into a meatgrinder, at the
commie VC for striking out of ambush like cowards, at his country for
turning their backs on him, at the world for treating him like shit,
at everything in existence just simply for being there.

And something whispered to him to take the ruby, and it would all go
away. He could destroy it all, tear it all down, break it until
nothing would ever stand in his way again. Part of him screamed to
take the ruby, make his way to Hanoi and sell it on the black market.
They thought he was dead, he could get a ticket out of here, through
the French Indies, to Europe or Canada. All it would take was to pick
up that gem.

Powerless to resist, Cain watched his fingers close around the gem.
And once more, he felt his world change. The pain. Oh, the pain. And
that sound in his head like laughter - not any kind of relief, but the
sound of a madman's joy at being given freedom. The sound the Khans
must have made as they slaughtered villagers from horseback. The sound
of a man - no, a thing so far gone over the edge that the
conventional thoughts of sanity and morality no longer applied.

"I will not be stopped", Cain heard his voice say.

Through the red, he turned to see a woman standing before him. Her
eyes filled with a mixture of horror, shock, and sorrow. She seemed
familiar, yet not right for this place.

Through the rage and the memories, the portrayal of his greatest
weakness and his secret shame, Cain Marko looked through the red to
see Alison Blaire staring back at him.

She knew. She knew all of it now. Everything he'd done, his greatest
mistake, his secret shame. The moment he turned his back on everything
and let the rage take over. She saw it all.

Cain opened his mouth to speak - and the world exploded.


Part Two: Tuesday, 2:21 am. Alison deals with the aftereffects of the accident, caught between moments




There were shards of gem deep in her skin.

That was the first thing to catch her attention when she regained
awareness. She could feel them, every smallest sliver or spec of red
dust. There somehow, a numb sort of feeling which wasn't exactly pain,
but wasn't normal either. Her skin was cold, as though the parts of
the gem now lodged inside were cooling it somehow, though the rest of
her was raging with heat. Or maybe it was something else, flickering
on and off at the edges of her mind, howling something which she
couldn't even begin to comprehend.

It was as though time stood still however, every passing moment the
same as the one before. Hot and cold, with something working through
her slowly, assessing and changing as it saw fit. The knowledge sent
shivers down her spine, or so she thought - she wasn't quite sure of
anything anymore, even as she opened her eyes and realized she wasn't
curled up on the floor anymore as she thought she'd been, but was
instead on a gurney, people hovering over her... and the world was
bathed in red. Their every move seemed to take forever, even as
suddenly everything would change again. Her perspective was somehow
completely out of synch with reality, she realized dimly. And there
were still the sharp edges of crystal in her skin, which she could
almost feel moving every now and then

It should hurt more, she realized, a low sound dragged from her throat
in response although it was as though she was the only one hearing it.
There should be more pain, so much more - but for some reason it
wasn't there, even though the sound dampener at her wrist was gone,
the comforting weight of it almost frighteningly absent.

And then time sped up all of a sudden, the slivers of gem moving under
her skin as though possessed of a life of their own, inching towards
the surface and yet still not hurting her, the voices of those
in the room so loud it felt as though they were screaming and she
whimpered in bewilderment at it all, even as her mind finally supplied
her with a memory that dragged a whimper of horror from her.

The light fading from Cain's eyes as he lay on the other side of the
smoking, heat scarred walls of the room, the metal panels warped and
twisted beyond comprehension around them both, and the gaping raw
wound in his chest, still smoking from the gem's shattering.



Part Three: Tuesday, 2:23 am. When the invulnerable man breaks, how do you fix him?



It had seemed as if Moira had turned her back only for a second (a
second) when all hell broke loose. At the same time the
photometer went off the charts something boomed down the hall. Hand
already hitting the emergancy beeper, she tore out of the room already
knowing where the source of the explosion had come from.

Cursing as she spotted the door now across the hall from where it was
supposed to be, she darted into where Alison and Cain had been
training. And stopped for a second, eyes widening as she took in the
damage.

Alison lay slumped against one wall. Alive, at least from the small
moans. Cain...Moira's eyes darted to the large pile of rubble and one
hand sticking out. She had to move fast, she had no idea what had
happened.

There was also no way she was moving Cain by herself. As she headed
towards Alison, along with mentally checking injuries (bleeding but
there were no deep gashes), she opened the link as wide as could be.
#Nathan. I need ye down here, ASAP,# she sent, mental voice as cool
as as she could make it. #There's an emergancy.#While she waited for her
fiancee, she started to get Alison out of there so she could work on her.

Nathan, who'd been catching up on some of the class-related stuff that
had piled up while he was gone, made it down to the safe room in
record time, nearly running down several unfortunate souls in the
process. Enough images had flickered along the link that he knew more
or less what he would find, but he took a sharp breath, almost a hiss,
at seeing it for himself.

He allowed himself a moment to give Moira a quick once-over and
reassure himself that she hadn't taken any damage, then focused on
business. "Move the debris without moving them too much?" he asked
curtly, more or less certain that was what she wanted but wanting to
make sure.

She nodded sharply as she settled Alison down outside of the room.
"Aye. I'm nay sure _wha'_ 'appened so I need ye ta leave Cain in one
place." Moira glanced over her shoulder for a second, worried. There
had been no sound or movement from him and that worried her.
Turning back to Alison, she touched her cheek. "Alison? Wake up,
now. Tha's it."

And then she got her first good look at the cuts and jerked her head
back. Slivers of a red substance speckled her skin. "Shit.
Nathan, 'urry tha' up, now! Be careful but be fast!"

He felt the sharp flash of fear down the link and his jaw clenched.
The debris covering Cain started to shift aside, reassembling itself
into the semblance of the room as it had been as he tried to mimick
the explosion in reverse as closely as possible. Cain had clearly
taken the brunt of it, but that shouldn't have... unless...

Oh, fuck, Nathan thought, freezing for a second in shock as he
saw the gaping hole in his friend's chest.

Only for a second, though. In the next instant, he was clearing the
rest of the debris, levitating both Alison and Cain into the air as
carefully as he could. "Go ahead of me," he said to Moira hurriedly.
"So you can show me where I'm putting them--" What the hell did they
have in the medlab in terms of beds that could hold Cain?

Darting out in front, she took him to the room next to the emergancy
room. "Two beds!" she said as she ran for the door, after hearing
Nathan's thought through the link. "Link two beds together." She was
doing that before she finished talking, yanking down the side bars on
two sides and pushing them together in time for Nathan to land him on
there. She watched as Alison was safely placed near-by.

Moira stared at the hole in his chest, at the sheer damage done,
reaching forward to feel for a pulse. "We're goin' ta need 'elp," she
said, turning around abruptly. Within seconds she had scrubbed her
hands and returned, checking again. "Damn it, 'e's nay respondin'."
With a sinking realization, she knew she was going to have to do a
heart massage. She _could_ do one, she would have to do one, it had
just been so long since that part of her training.

Pushing that out of her mind, she reached in gently but quickly
knowing that time was against them. There, she had found his heart
and as soon as she had the proper grip, she started to go to work.

He was half-afraid to interrupt her, but he had to. #Help - who and
what?# he sent down the link. #Just think it, I'll take care of it...##Th'
gem is GONE Nathan,# she sent back, nearly standing on tip-toe in
order to do this. Still nothing! "Start up, ye stubborn bastard,"
she muttered. #From wha' I can tell, a good deal o' 'tis in Alison,
others in th' rubble. Cain is diein' an' I'm nay sure wha'...Amanda.
Nathan, get Amanda. _Now_.#Nathan half-turned towards the door, following
the rapid-fire direction of her thoughts. #Amanda!# he called sharply,
and felt the
young witch respond, startled by the strength of his 'shout'. #Medlab.
Fast!# What was Moira thinking she could do, what would Amanda need...
#Bring any book you've got on how to work with magical bindings!# he
sent rapidly, understanding what Moira was thinking.

"There!" The heart was working again and Cain's blood was pumping.
Unfortunately, he still had a gaping whole in his chest and he still
wasn't breathing. Grabbing a stool from near-by, Moira knelt on it to
get better perspective. "Jesus...Nathan, remember this!" Stained
with blood and unwilling to have the need to scrub again, she had to
use Nathan as a notepad. "Ribs, lungs an' 'eart damaged. Explosion
from th' inside, causin' th' ribs ta break outwards, which ruptured
th' lungs in part. Nathan, I need ideas. Cain was bonded ta th' gem
ta th' point tha' it affected his musculature and bone mass. Losin'
it like this could, an' is, killin' 'im!"

"Got it," Nathan said, coming back over to where she stood. "We've got
to put it back somehow, then, don't we? Reconstruct it, or..."

With a curse as Cain's heart stopped--again--Moira found herself once
more elbow deep inside of someone she considered a friend. "Aye," she
said, gritting her teeth as she forced the clinical part of her to
come to the fore, to ignore all the emotional ties with her patients
for now. "Check on Alison. I dinnae think she's goin' ta be fully
conscious for a while but check 'er bleedin'."

Nathan went immediately to Alison's side. She opened her eyes,
blinking up at him uncomprehendingly, clearly out of it. The shrapnel
damage was bad, he thought, his heart sinking as he got a good look at
her. She looked as though she'd thrown up an arm to protect herself,
tried to turn away...

"Moira!" he said sharply, his eyes widening as he saw what was
happening to the cuts. "The shrapnel wounds are healing over -
visibly healing over!"

"Wha'?! Th' gem cannae be bondin' wit' 'er?" There was no way of
knowing only that something needed to be done and soon. As soon as
Cain's heart had been restarted again, she hit the emergancy beeper at
her side with her elbow. It was automatically set to dial Amanda on
that button, the one that pretty much said "one minute or less to get
down here".

"Moira, if it's healing her--" Nathan cut himself off, trying to
think. "I don't think I could reconstruct the gem, even
telekinetically," he said rapidly. "But if shards of it are healing
her, they might help Cain?"

There came the sound of sneakers skidding on metal and Amanda appeared in
the doorway, breathing heavily, several large books in her arms. "I came as
soon as I..." she began, eyes widening at the sight of Moira with her arm
inside Cain's chest. "Fuckin' hellfire..." she breathed. "What the
fuck happened?"

"The gem blew up. Do you know if that means his binding to it's broken
completely?" Nathan said hoarsely, still staring down at Alison.
"Moira, could we embed some of the shards in him, something like
that?"

Moira thought that over as she started to do as much triage on Cain as
was humanly possible. "Aye, I think tha' would work. Make it small
enough ta put back in 'im. If th' gem is 'ealin' Alison than 'tis
still active."

"How do we keep it there, though... we can't just leave pieces of it
floating around in his body, can we?" Nathan looked at Amanda. "Any
suggestions?" he asked helplessly.

"Not some, all," Amanda interrupted. She'd dropped the books to the floor -
most of them were of the 'binding someone to someone else' sort, rather
than the 'binding objects of power to living tissue' kind, but she was
leafing through one rapidly. "Has t' be all of it, every last bit,
otherwise the power's broken an' he'll..." She glanced up at Moira, looking
a bit sick. "Otherwise he'll die."

The blood left her face as Amanda confirmed her fears. "Right." With
a quick mental shake, Moira gathered herself. "Amanda, do wha' ye
need ta do, ye dinnae need permission in this case. Nathan, 'elp 'er
out. Yer telekinesis is goin' ta be needed in order ta do this. An'
I'm assuming, Amanda, tha' since th' gem is magic an' tha' ye've been
exposed ta it before, ye can 'elp 'im out wit' findin' it somehow?
Let's go people, I'll need ta keep an eye on 'im an' Alison while ye
two start this process." As she was speaking, she was setting up
triage for the other woman already, darting between her and Cain.

Nathan crossed the room to Amanda's side rapidly. #Can you see it?# he
asked urgently, switching to telepathy. He would have to see through
her eyes, if she could. #If we need every bit of it, you have to show
me...#"I don't..." Amanda faltered, but then closed her eyes and
focussed
past the noise and the pain of both patients and the jangling of lines of
power that had been broken... She rarely deliberately summoned her mutant
gift, but part of the training with Strange and Moira had involved teaching
her to visualise with it, and this she did now. Stretching out with her
power, she reached for every single mote of mystic energy, pictured it as a
glowing red speck... There. She opened her eyes and her mind at the same
time, unconsciously linking with Nathan the same way she'd gotten used to
doing with Manuel, filling his mental vision with what she saw - burning
red motes coating both Cain and Alison like one of Clarice's glitter bombs,
and on the floor, leading to the safe room, a glowing trail of ruby
fragments. #See it?#With care not to disturb them or her patients, Moira
carefully wheeled
Alison closer to Cain. To make it easier for them to find, and
remove, the shards from Alison. Thankfully Cain's heart was still
beating but he _still_ wasn't breathing. They had noted that he
didn't need to breath--he had survived under the lake like that--but
this was not a usual case.

Nathan took a deep breath, then another - and then started to gather
in the gem-pieces. The fragments, the specks that were barely glitters
in Amanda's sight. All of it. Every bit, she had said; they needed
every bit, or Cain would die. #Keep the image in your mind,# he sent
to her, his mental voice tight with the effort. #Hold it there...#Safe
room first. Then the hallway. In moments, a cloud of shimmering
ruby mist was floating into the room, drawing fragments upwards from
the floor...

He closed his eyes, a pained noise slipping out, and yanked the
fragments out of Alison, as gently as he could.

Amanda nodded briefly, struggling to hold the image - and to not absorb any
of the power of the Gem. Even fragmented, there was still power there,
familiar power, and she fought the inevitable craving that sensing the Gem
again brought out in her. If she hadn't already been fully charged from
Arizona, she wouldn't have managed it. #Hurry...# she sent to Nathan, not
wanting to put the pressure on him, but knowing there were limits, and she
was reaching hers.

Once the shards were taken out of Alison, and Moira was worried about
the lack of pained noise from that action, she went to work. There
would be time for stiches for some of these later. Right now, she
just wanted to get the wounds closed. "'urry," she murmured towards
the pair, a reaching over to check Cain's pulse.

Still no breathing.

"How small--" Nathan gasped out. Hard to breathe. Why was it getting
hard to breathe? But he still pulled at the last of the gem fragments,
drawing them into the cloud hovering above their heads. "Moira--how
small do they have to be?"

Moira turned her head and studied Cain, mentally running through his
medical chart in her mind. "Small. Verra small. Nathan, remember me
tellin' ye nay ta do tha' trick wit' yer powers? _Tha'_ small." She
glanced up at him, grim. "There's nay way in 'ell yer goin' ta be
able ta piece this thin' together ta make it fit inta tha'." She
started to point her hand at Cain before realizing it was still
covered in blood and then dropped it again. "Ye need ta make it small
enough ta integrate it wit' 'is DNA. This 'as ta become part o' Cain,
more than it 'twas before."

He had everything. Every last mote. With a sigh Amanda clamped down on her
power, let her vision return to normal as she listened to what Moira was
saying. "That's the right track," she said, lunging for her dropped book.
"There's somethin' here, a bindin' ritual, says a bit 'bout makin' the two
into one..." Pages flapped and one or two tore slightly as she paged
through the ancient book. "If Nate uses his TK t' bind it t' his DNA, I can
make it stick, so it's part of him..."

DNA. Nathan's mind was spinning, even as he held onto the gem pieces.
How was he supposed to... that wasn't just microscopic, it was... he
didn't even know what...

He looked at Cain, at the hole in his chest, and his thoughts stopped
chasing each other around and around in his mind. #I have to link us,#he
sent sharply, already reaching out to the two of them. #Moira, I
need your medical knowledge... I only have the sketchiest idea of what
DNA looks like. Amanda, you need to see what I'm doing as I do it. Can
you do the ritual simultaneously?#The room swayed for a second before
sharpening quickly, everything in
bright focus. She steadied herself on the gurnies as she felt
Nathan's familiar touch, and now a second and unfamiliar touch, in her
mind. #Consider me an open book ye two,# Moira sent, putting more
bandages on Alison. Mentally, she sought out the information she
needed, pointing them in the right direction. #Let's do this an'
let's do this right.#|

At least she'd had the practice of being in someone else's mind before...
Amanda found the page she was looking for and joined Nathan by Cain's
gurney, trying to sort out the two new presences in her mind.
'Concentrate, you can do this...' she told herself, fixing the words
of the spell in her mind. A simple enough incantation, repeated over and
over. #Ready when you are,# she sent to them both, her hands shaking only
slightly as she held the heavy book.

Nathan took a deep breath, reaching deep into his own mind and undoing
the circuit-breaker. He crossed the room to stand on the other side of
Cain's gurney. "Not dying on us, you big ox," he muttered, and
pushed his perceptions downwards as hard as he could.
Everything in the room started to take on that mysterious inner
sparkle, that grew into dancing light as he went deeper.

Deeper. He fixed the images Moira was feeding him in his mind and kept
up the pressure. Everything seemed curiously glassy, suddenly, and
then the patterns of light started to melt into each other, until the
whole room and everything in was nothing but overlapping light.

"...Nathan?" Something was wrong or it felt wrong. There was this
red glow, soft but there, around Cain and something was going on.
There was this sinkhole feeling in her mind, like a heavy weight in
water. And the link, the full-time one and not the quick three-way,
felt...off.

"~Shabala, umshala, kiadanasha...~" Amanda's soft chanting broke the
otherwise breathless stillness in the room, the pattern of the spell
merging with the patterns of light in Nathan's mind until all she could see
was the book in her hands, the heavy black ink of the words. Everything
else was light, and she felt the power she'd taken from the site in Arizona
rising up to join Nathan's. "Blood and water made one, flesh and earth
made one, breath and air made one..."

Deeper.

Deeper.

There. What he saw, as he touched a level he'd never reached before,
was like nothing he could have imagined. Tightly bundled strands of
light, made up of countless shining little pieces. Like tiny jewels.
And the force beneath it all, the unimaginable force shivering beneath
the surface...

Nathan took a deep, shuddering breath. Patterns. It was all patterns,
he told himself, and reached a hand out, over the spot in the light
that he knew corresponded to the hole in Cain's chest. If there was
one thing he could do, it was duplicate a pattern.

And he did. Gritting his teeth, he forced the glimmering crimson cloud
downwards, into that identical pattern and into Cain. The DNA spirals
seemed to stiffen, to resist the intrusion, and he heard Amanda's
chanting in his mind grow louder. It's where you belong, he
thought half-deliriously to the gem. Go back, damn it...
Harder, he had to push harder. Mind over matter.

Aware of nothing but the patterns of light he saw in his mind's eye,
Nathan was wholly unaware of the fact that he himself was starting to
glow, insubstantial white-gold flames coalescing around his body.
Power shivered outwards from him, spillover he didn't even sense.

The glow around Nathan became brighter and brighter and Moira bit back
a cry, not wanting to disturb them. Their presence was heavy in her
mind and she gripped the railings hard, trying to keep it open as long
as she could for them to get at what they needed. As she watched the
light grow brighter, she couldn't help a small prayer from escaping
through her lips, the first one in years. Soon, it became hard to
tell anything apart as the light washed over the room.

Amanda couldn't see the book any more, but that didn't matter - the words
were coming of their own accord now as she followed Nathan's 'sight'
downwards, using her power to bind the pattern, make it permanent. Stay
there, you bastard... she thought dimly, pushing every inch as hard as
Nathan was. Light, everything was light, including her, and she felt all
she needed to do to float away entirely was to let go of the book...

The spillover touched the edges of the tome in her hands, the cracked
leather stiffening and becoming crystalline and she caught a fragment of
warning thought from Moira, a snatch of words uttered in fear... Instinct
kicked in, and she threw up the shielding spell, blue energy flaring
brightly as Nathan's power enveloped her entirely, and in that instant she
felt the world solidify around her.

Cursing, Moira turned and covered Alison, instinctually shielding her
from the power flare up. She felt it more than seen it, that second
before it hit. Kind of like right before a storm, that leaving of
air. There was an explosion, again, and then the room was bright in
white, blue and red colors, leaving her blinded. All she knew to do
was to protect Alison from further harm and ride out this particular
storm.

Still not quite there. The crimson pattern was overlaying the jeweled
spirals, nearly occupying the same space. So close. He could feel
something pulling at it, trying to bring it closer - Amanda's spell -
but there was still resistance, still. The natural fighting the
unnatural.

Deeper.

In his mind, something cracked. The 'hole' where the circuit-breaker
had been, where psi-energy had flowed in two different directions at
the same time, crackling with feedback, was suddenly an abyss, yawning
wide, white light exploding upwards like a volcanic eruption.

And he took it and used it, forcing the patterns together. Amanda's
chanting grew louder, and Nathan struggled to hold the patterns
together, feeling the force at work binding them...

But his mind was on fire, and he was losing it, losing his grip on the
pattern and the three-way link.
They were so close, nearly there... The words ripped from Amanda's throat
in a near-scream, and the amulet around her neck echoed the blinding glow
of her shielding spell as she poured everything she had into the binding
spell. You will bloody well be one if I have t' fuckin' well staple you
together... she told the fragments of the Gem, aware she was perilously
close to empty and that Nathan was slipping, he couldn't hold on much
longer. Ruby light erupted from Cain's chest, eclipsing everything else as
the patterns met, melded, become one... Then everything went dark
and silent, save for the ticking of cooling metal and Amanda's harsh
panting.

There was a flash of light that was brighter than the rest and a wave
of heat and then nothing. Cautiously, Moira raised herself off of
Alison and glanced over her shoulder. "Nathan...Amanda?" Turning,
she went to check on them when something caught her eye.

Cain was breathing.

Nathan was holding onto the edge of the gurney, shuddering as he tried
to catch his breath. He didn't see the darkness in the room, didn't
realize that the overhead lights had been destroyed by the telekinetic
spillover. All he could see were white-gold, overlapping waves of
light, like he was adrift in a sea of light. It washed in and out of
his mind, searing the last fragments of conscious thought into ashes
until there was nothing left but the pain and the light.

He heard a voice, calling his name, and then nothing. Toppling like a
felled tree, he hit the floor hard, but there wasn't enough awareness
left in his mind to register the impact.

Amanda's collapse was a little less dramatic - her knees simply gave out
from under her and she slid down the side of the gurney to the floor. Her
vision was full of the after-images of the light, blobs of green and yellow
and violet pulsating in time with what was going to be the mother of all
headaches when it caught up with her. "'M all right," she managed, in
response to Moira's question. "Nate... Get t' Nate." Then on cue the
headache hit, and she lay her face on the cool metal floor of the medlab
with a whimper and let everything happen around her.

A presence surged in the room, touching each of their minds lightly, a
brief permission asked and hastily given by the more conscious people
in the room, before Charles started to gather more information as to
what exactly had happened... and why he'd happened to actually
hear his brother's mind from nearly halfway across the world.
Cain was not on his list of people he should be picking up on.
Ever. And he wasn't hearing him now - well, not exactly, he realized,
turning his full attention on him, even though his body was still in
his hotel room at the conference site.

The tension in the room was near palpable for all those aware enough
to feel it, long minutes ticking by slowly. Finally, it seemed to ease
a little. #Moira? I will be returning promptly to the mansion.
However, Cain still needs some time to stabilize in his current
condition before I can attempt to mend his mind. This is the only
reason I am not asking for Clarice to teleport me back instead.# A
pause, the equivalent of a weary mental sigh. #Cain's body and mind
are not longer in synch. This is the closest approximation I can find
to explain his condition, other than showing you directly - and that
would not be a pleasant experience for you. As soon as I arrive I will
head down to the medlab to see if he's steady enough for an attempt at
rectifying the situation.#

Another pause followed, his attention turning elsewhere. A quick
flurry of information soon followed the return of the presence in
Moira's mind, a quick evaluation of the mental condition of the others
in the room with her, along with a notice that he'd just updated both
Hank and Madelyn on the situation and that they would arrive in the
medlab at any moment to help her.


Part Four: Tuesday, 3:45 am. To repair the damage to Cain's mind as well as his body, Charles Xavier must journey to a place he has never been before: inside the memories of his brother.


Charles leaned back in the plane and listened to the pilot's voice,
announcing that they had reached cruising altitude and were expecting
a smooth flight from Vancouver to LaGuardia. As soon as he had
received the news about Cain, he had chartered a plane back from the
conference, ensuring that he would have absolute privacy to do what
needed to be done.

A phone call to Moira immediately before boarding revealed the details
of the situation to him. While Amanda and Nathan had managed to
stabilize his brother, Cain's body was fighting every attempt at
resuscitation. Moira had mentioned irregular neural activity, similar
to that of a stroke. With what she and Charles had deduced about the
interaction between Cain and the gem that resided in his chest no
longer, the allusion wasn't entirely unlikely. The shock to Cain's
system was as much psychic as physical. While the mansion's medical
staff could heal his body, his mind was another entity altogether.

Relaxing his breathing with a familiar Tibetan mantra, Charles let his
thoughts flow to the astral plane. The noises of the jet faded away
like a fleeing tide, and the world around Xavier dissolved into shades
of gray and flickering bolts of electric blue. The astral plane.

Forming an image of Cain in his mind, Charles saw the astral landscape
blur around him until the familiar thoughtscape of the school rushed
forwards at him. Moira's thoughts were like a beacon, drawing Charles
down to the medlab. Fluttering briefly over her mind like a butterfly,
Xavier looked through her eyes at his brother on the gurney. Steam was
curling from his pores, and his chest rose and fell irregularly, lungs
fighting the efforts of the machine that was keeping them going. Tubes
and wires snaked in through Cain's nose and mouth, and Charles
understood that the quickest way to stabilize Cain had been through
inhaled medications. Assured that his brother's physical body was as
hale as could be expected, Charles prepared himself and overlaid his
invisible astral form over the massive body of his stepbrother.

The sensation was not unlike falling blind into a cold lake, as the
patterns of Cain's mind brushed by Charles like branches in a dense
forest. The trick, Charles knew, was finding the path through with as
little interference as possible. A few moments of observation, and
Charles made his diagnosis.

#Moira,# he sent telepathically, #Cain's psyche is almost completely
severed from his physical form. Apparently the destruction of the gem
has caused a wound to his mind. I can repair the damage, but I will
need to find him...#

From his experience, victims of severe psychic trauma tended to
retreat into a safe memory. However, Charles reminded himself, it
served little purpose but to allow their minds to die without pain.
And that was a fate he would not accept for his brother.

#So then,# Charles thought, #Memory. Where are you, Cain?#

The dark strands of Cain's thoughts flared a bright red, weaving
around Charles in intricate patterns, slowly fading to reveal a
familiar sight. Charles stepped forward, feeling the familiar hardwood
floor of the mansion's kitchen under his feet. Stepping through, he
saw Cain - younger, face unlined by the passage into adulthood. His
brother was proudly standing, hands on hips, admiring the trophy case
in the hallway. Standing beside Cain in this hall of memories, Charles
gazed through the glass at the target of his brother's admiration. An
embroidered letter 'F' in green and gold, a black football emblazoned
on the letter. Charles immediately knew where he was. 1957, when Cain
Marko had been awarded his first All-State football team assignment.
He remembered Cain's pride, as well as the ensuing tension it had
caused when -

"I suppose you're proud of yourself," the deep voice, tinged with
sarcasm, made both Cain and Charles turn. Standing with arms folded on
the staircase was a dark-haired man, mouth set in a frown beneath his
bushy black mustache. Unconsciously, Charles smiled while Cain's mouth
turned in a scowl at Kurt Marko's disapproving look. Cain's father
calmly walked down and stood beside his son, looking at the athletic
award. "You've been recognized for your physical abilities, Cain.
That's something to be proud of."

"I... thank you, sir." Charles could hear the disbelief in Cain's
voice. Approval from Kurt Marko was something that was not easily
gained. Not easily gained by Cain, Charles forced himself to
admit. He and his stepfather had been two of a kind, with Kurt taking
over where Charles' own father would have, molding the young Xavier
into a bright and studious scientist.

His disappointment in Cain, however, could not have been more evident.
"You have a talent, Cain," Kurt said, "but remember that you won't be
able to depend on it forever. This just says that you're good at
playing a game. How do you plan to make a career, make a name for
yourself in this world? By playing games?"

"I..." Cain stammered, unable to meet his father's gaze despite having
almost three inches of height on him and close to fifty pounds. "I
worked hard for that, Dad."

"And you'll have to work harder if you want to be something more than
some menial laborer who tries to hold himself high on past glories,"
Kurt Marko snapped. "Use your brain and accomplish something, and one
day you'll be able to look at the world like I do - like Charles does.
He's going to be something someday, Cain. A son who follows in his
father's footsteps."

Cain Marko recoiled as if his father had struck him. Charles could see
the mental landscape warp with the force of Cain's anger. "I'm going
to be something someday, sir. Just not on your terms."

Cain's father's lips curled in a smile that had no warmth to it.
"They're not my terms, Cain. They're the world's. You'd better learn
to keep up with it, because it won't stop for you. Think about that."

As Kurt Marko turned to head down to his laboratory, he spoke once
more, not meeting Cain's eyes. "Put that in your room. That case is
for real accomplishments." And then he was gone.

Charles turned to his brother, who stood silent, fists clenched and
body shaking. Charles reached out to him, and paused. This was not his
memory. When this happened, he had been away at Bard. Affecting Cain's
memory of the event directly would be hazardous.

Xavier watched as Cain turned to the glass door of the trophy case,
then balled his hands into fists and smashed them against the glass,
exploding it into splinters. Holding the fabric letter in his hands,
Cain watched his blood soak into the felt, and clutched the award in
his fists.

Charles noticed with no small interest that through it all, Cain
refused to cry. Not one tear fell as Cain Marko walked out the front
door of the mansion. As it shut behind him, Charles felt himself
pulled away from the mansion, as the memory faded around him.

Then the world shifted around, and the streets of Salem Center formed
around Charles. He looked up and down the streets, arching an eyebrow.
The storefronts, the cars parked along the street - this was easily
thirty, thirty-five years ago. That's impossible, Charles
thought to himself. Cain left before this time. He never saw this
in...

The realization clicked in Charles' brain like a switch. This wasn't a
memory. This was where Cain had retreated to in his brain. The images,
Charles realized, were taken from his own mind. Somewhere in this town
was his stepbrother, and he had to find him.

Charles went to step into the street, but a loud noise gave him pause
as the crowds around him began to cheer. Making his way to the
roadside, he looked to see a line of cars driving slowly down the main
street, men standing in the back of pickups and float cars waving.
Behind them, a banner waved slowly in the wind.

"SALEM CENTER WELCOMES ITS HEROES HOME"

They were soldiers, Charles realized. Each of them wearing their
Marine Corps dress uniforms, medals shining on their chests. Each face
was distinct, men who were more real than the world around them.
Charles looked over their faces, surprised that his brother was not
among them. Yet, he had to be here. Allowing his mind to spread out
like a net, Charles Xavier searched for the thoughts of his brother.
Anger, spite, and shame stabbed at him like a needle in his fingertip.
Charles spun around, making his way through the crowd to the source of
the pain.

In a nearby alley, shrouded in shadow, Charles found his answer. A man
seated in a wheelchair, ratted and dirty hair covering his face. A
threadbare olive drab jacket was draped over his shoulders, while his
legs-

The man's legs ended in ragged stumps, just above the knees. Charles
gasped despite himself, looking through the dirt and grime to
recognize the face of his brother.

"Cain..." Charles breathed. "This is not real. You must understand,
this never happened. This is not you, you are not here. Take my hand
and let me guide you back."

Cain looked up at Charles with bloodshot eyes, reaching out one
filth-crusted hand. Then just as suddenly, he scowled, swiveling his
chair around and pushing himself farther into the alley. Charles,
unwilling to accept defeat, took three quick steps after him, grabbing
onto the handles of the wheelchair. A wheelchair he recognized with no
small amount of irony as one of his own.

"It's all right, Cain," he explained soothingly. "Wherever you need to
go, I will take you. Simply show me."

Cain shook his head violently, thrashing back and forth into the
chair. "Shouln' be here, Chuck..." he cried, his voice raspy and
harsh. "Ain' s'posed to see this..."

"Cain," Charles pleaded, "let me take you away from this. This
darkness is not where you have to be. I told you once, I am here to
help you. You don't belong here." He moved around in front of his
brother, placing his hands on the wheels of the chair to hold him
still. "Allow me to make you whole, my brother."

"Ain' yer brother..." Cain drawled, rotted teeth showing in a rictus
grin. "Ain' no one's brother. No one's son. Jus' me. Al'ays jus' me.
Ain' no one else here."

"I am here, Cain," Charles insisted. "I will not leave you." He took
Cain's filthy hands in his own, clutching tightly. "I will NOT leave
you, Cain," Xavier repeated.

Their eyes met for one moment, and as Cain smiled a ragged grin,
Charles became aware of the buildings around them shifting and
changing. It was as if they were decaying and crumbling - falling into
rubble as Cain's mad grimace spread.

"Ain' no one s'posed to be here, Chuck. 's mad."

Releasing Cain's hands, Charles stood and looked around. Cain's
mindscape had transformed from a bucolic 1970's small town into an
apocalyptic tableau of fire and destruction. The asphalt beneath their
feet had changed into baked sand and glass, melting the wheels of
Cain's chair into the ground. The very air around them seemed to burn
as the hills of Salem Center collapsed into pools of bubbling mud and
lava. Through it all, Cain just rocked back and forth, chuckling
softly.

"This is indeed madness, Cain. But it is not yours. Let me take you
home." Charles insisted, extending his hand to his brother. Cain just
barked out a hooting laugh, throwing his head back to the blood-red
sky.

"This is home, Chuck. And home is Mad." Charles understood this time.
Cain wasn't meaning "mad" as insanity, but as anger. This place was
the core, the seed of his psyche. So pervasively infected with anger
and rage, so twisted and diabolic that it turned Charles' stomach to
behold it. He spun back to Cain, trying to push back the tendrils of
anger that threatened to overcome him.

"Come away from this, Cain. It does not have to be this way. You know
that there is a better way, you have walked the path. Let me help you
back onto it, Cain. Please, let me help you." Charles reached for
Cain, then paused. The chair was sinking slowly as the stone beneath
Cain was bubbling into liquid. He found himself unable to move,
watching Cain sink slowly into the morass of rage that his mind had
become.

"No!" Charles cried out, falling to his knees and reaching for his
brother. "I refuse to accept this! I refuse to accept that you are
this far gone! You cannot surrender to this, Cain! You cannot-"
Charles forced himself to say it. "You cannot be this weak,
Cain!"

Cain Marko's eyes snapped upwards, suddenly lucid. As his chest sank
beneath the boiling mud, he reached one hand up slowly. "Chuck?" he
asked, the fear creeping into his voice. "Help me. Don't let me fall."

"I will not, I swear." Charles reached out, fingers inches away from
Cain's. He stretched, ignoring the pain of the fire around the two of
them. One more inch, just one small distance -

"Chuck? Don't leave me, don't let me-"

One small distance between them. And it could have been a mile.

Charles watched, powerless, as his brother vanished into the quagmire.
Slowly, he became aware of a loud, low noise, until he realized that
it was his own voice, screaming defiance to the skies.

"No! No! I will not permit it!" Charles cried, pounding his fists on
the ground. "CAIN!" he bellowed, "I will not abandon you! I
know you can hear me, I know it. I am here, my brother. You are not
alone." Charles let the tears fall from his eyes, as the emotions he
had repressed came to the fore. "You are not alone, you do not have to
be alone anymore."

HE IS NOT ALONE.

The booming voice threw Charles to the ground, blowing debris and dust
past him. Raising his head, Charles gaped in amazement. Something was
rising from the boiling volcano that was Cain's mind. Something
enormous, shapeless, like a dome emerging from the sea. This great
leviathan continued to rise before Charles' shocked eyes.

"Cain..." Charles mouthed. "Cain, what are you-"

NO. THE VESSEL IS DESTROYED. ONLY I REMAIN.

Slowly, Charles pulled himself to his feet. Above him, towering like a
skyscraper, this massive form eclipsed the rest of the landscape.
Featureless and smooth, the giant resonated with unimaginable power.
Crimson energy crackled around its form like a thunderstorm given
flesh. Bolts of red lightning jumped from its hands, centering around
a coruscating vortex in its chest.

The gem.

Charles thrust his fist into the air in challenge. "Return my brother,
I demand it!" Dark laughter was the response.

THE VESSEL HAS BEEN DESTROYED. HE SHALL PASS FROM THIS WORLD.

"No!" Charles screamed defiantly. "Whatever you are, I refuse to allow
you that power!"

YOU ARE INSIGNIFICANT. HE SHALL PASS.

"I say that he shall not!" Charles responded, drawing on his mental
might. This was the arena of thought, the expanse of the mind. Here,
he was not insignificant. Opening his eyes, he stood equal to the
giant, glaring into the featureless ruby dome. "Begone from this
place, and return him to me."

YOUR WILL IS STRONG, BUT ALL SHALL BE DESTROYED. THE VESSEL IS NO MORE. HE IS MINE.

With a cry, Charles lashed out, striking the behemoth in the chest.
The giant refused to budge. Through gritted teeth, Charles struck
again, his hands locking around the thing's chest. "I will not abandon
him! Your claim on him is over, fiend."

MY CLAIM IS ETERNAL. I WILL NOT BE STOPPED.

Charles returned the challenge with equal strength, refusing to back down.

"Nor shall I."

In one smooth motion, Charles pulled away from the monster, closing
his eyes. This is not real, Cain, he sent. You are in
control. You are stronger than this. You can stop it.

I WILL NOT BE STOPPED!

Charles could hear the giant
bellow, the force of its cry causing the reality of Cain's mindscape
to quake and shudder. Charles could feel the concussions of mountains
exploding, the ground opening up to vent this creature's rage. Still
he extended his mind, seeking out any trace of his brother.

You are stronger than this, Cain. You are stronger than us all. You
cannot give up. You MUST not give up.

"I cannot be stopped."

Charles opened his eyes to see Cain standing in front of him, whole
and hale. Their eyes locked once, then Cain nodded. "You brought me
back, Chuck."

"Cain..." Charles reached out a hand to his brother, then looked up to
the monstrous figure silhouetted behind Cain. "I am glad to see you."

Cain Marko just smirked, turning to face the giant. "You don't belong
here, Chuck," he said. "This ain't your fight."

"Whatever battles you have, Cain," Charles replied, "you do not have
to fight them alone." Slowly, Cain turned his head to look at Charles.
His mouth quirked in a quick smile, then he winked.

"You know I gotta, Chuck. I'll see you soon." With that, he stepped
toward the behemoth, his arms outstretched.

"Cain!" Charles stepped forward, then felt his legs give out under
him. The mindscape around him was beginning to quiver, shot through
with red, glowing cracks. Charles watched with blurred vision as Cain
kept striding towards the giant. Before the cracks overtok everything,
he could hear one strong voice cut through the chaos.

"Come on, you son of a bitch. Let's see which one of us walks away from this."

And then the world was red.

***

Charles Xavier snapped his eyes open. The airplane was slowly
beginning its descent into New York's LaGuardia airport. He ran a hand
over his forehead, then recoiled when he found his face and shirt
drenched in sweat. A quick mental connection to Moira brought a smile
to his face. All was well. All was well.

In the medlab beneath 1407 Greymalkin Lane, Cain Marko's chest rose
and fell evenly, the heart monitors showing an even, steady beat.
Beside the gurney, Moira MacTaggart stripped off her gloves, leaning
down to rest her head against Cain's chest. His heart beat strongly on
its own, where only hours before it had been a shredded, destroyed
wreck. In fact, other than the apparent physical reduction in size,
the only sign of Cain's ordeal was a livid white scar across his
sternum where the gem once sat.

And in his sleep, Cain Marko's mouth curved up in a smile.