As Mattie sighed and relaxed in his arms, Nicholas let out his own heavy breath. He realized they were standing in an awkward position, Nicholas supporting most of Mattie's weight as her exhaustion and intoxication kicked in. His legs were beginning to feel like jelly -- he had walked a long ways to get here, having no vehicle because his main transportation was flying. But it wasn't exactly a good idea to fly through a city and land in front of an apartment complex, so he had resorted to walking. He hadn't realized how achy his legs were, even after training.

So, with one quick movement, he swept his arm underneath Mattie and picked her up like a child, cradling her. "You need to rest after all that crying," he said. He began to walk toward the living room, which seemed to be connected to the miniature foyer and kitchen, and then sat Mattie down on the couch. He sat beside her, kicked off his shoes, and pulled her into a cuddle.

Mattie felt only half-aware of being picked up by Nick, but her foggy perception appreciated it because she wouldn't have to attempt to walk anywhere herself. He said something to her that she heard, but that didn't quite sink into her head. Part of her was replaying earlier, with him at the door, the yelling, the old neighbor's alarm.

It felt good to be on the couch and off her feet. She put her hands on Nick's chest and leaned on him again.

Mattie leaned into him. It felt like Heaven to Nicholas, to be here with her again. To be this intimate without having to be sexual. His arms wrapped around her, holding her against his chest. He could feel the breaths she took, and synced his with them. The beat of his heart slowed. The world slowed. His eyes shut, he started to drift asleep. The world was quiet around them, and their closeness kept them warm as the cold air continued to leak in from the broken door. Right before he fell unconscious, he made a quick note: better fix that.

Mattie was out like a light in seconds; the exhaustion and alcohol had caught up to her. She hardly stirred through the night, surprisingly. She usually tossed and turned and woke up during the night a lot especially if she slept in a position that her body took even a slight problem to. Not this time. She slept like a rock until 7:30 in the morning, which was late for her.

As she opened her eyes slowly, she realized that her head was resting on something warm. Groaning, she sat upright and opened her eyes completely and started to yawn and–– holy shit! Mattie jumped up off the couch as if there was a rat. Nicholas?!

And then she remembered yesterday. Right. Embarrassed both to have forgotten and to have been so sappy as to cuddle up with him last night, she grabbed her leftover burgers and moved quietly into the kitchen. She sat on her counter and ate, chewing very slowly, distracted from the still-juicy flavor by her thoughts. What was she supposed to do now? What did he want now, after three years apart? Was there danger? She remembered last night.

Whatever comes next, we'll face it together.

He knew something she didn't.

It wasn't Nicholas' intention to sleep over at Mattie's. It wasn't even his intention to sleep, especially not for twelve whole hours. There was a thorny dryness in his throat when he regained consciousness, followed by a sharp ache in both his legs and his wings. His eyelids were still heavy, weighted down as if he had either not gotten enough sleep, or too much. It had been months since he'd gotten more than three or four hours of sleep per night. Regardless, the thing that awoke him was not only the scratchiness of his throat, but the rustling sound of wrappers. That was when he realized Mattie was no longer with him on the couch.

Eyelids drooping, he swung his aching legs off the side of the couch and sat with a slouch for a solid minute before standing. He stretched his arms high over his head and let out a soft groan, then scrubbed his face with his hands. It was morning. It was late in the morning. At least, late for him. He could tell because the sun was already up.

"Mattie," he said, voice cracking from the dryness. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sleep over." He rounded the corner to the kitchen and leaned against the wall as he looked at Mattie, who was sitting at the counter, eating.

After swallowing the too-large mouthful of burger, Mattie turned her head to look at Nick. Seeing him again made her heart skip beats and gave her butterflies, but thankfully, she didn't show either of these symptoms. Now that the emotional episode of yesterday was finished, she'd decided that they needed to talk. Just talk, she reminded herself. No punching or throwing things or demanding to know why he'd left. After all, she knew that now but just hadn't accepted it. There was a lot of information that was far more important.

"Mattie," he said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sleep over." She didn't respond verbally to that. Instead, she took note of how hoarse Nick sounded. She hopped off the counter and opened the fridge, withdrawing a bottle of water. (She took off the cap and sniffed to make sure it wasn't alcohol.)

"Here. Take it," she told him, sliding it across the counter to him. She wasn't worried about seeming cold right now; after all being gone for three years was pretty cold of Nick. "I want you to give me some answers," she continued. "Like why you're really here. And where Jacob is, and whether that shitstorm is coming back to bite us in the ass, and––anything else." She crossed her arms.

The water bottle was graciously accepted. He didn't even care that she'd drank out of it -- after all, they'd swapped saliva before. It was cool and smooth, relieving the cracks in his throat. He took his time as he drank it and maintained eye contact with Mattie as she stood across the counter with her arms crossed. "Right," he said, re-capping the bottle and setting it on the counter. "Although it is part of the reason why I came here, I didn't come here just to see you again. I came here because...well, because you could be in danger. And, we all could." He paused and tried to force the anxiety out of his system. It was bubbling it his throat, giving him trouble as he spoke. With awkward, shaky movements, he sat at the counter and tried to relax.

It came to his attention that Mattie might not have even known there were others like them who'd escaped. He went over all the information that he was keeping cramped inside of his mind, trying to decipher what Mattie knew compared to what he knew, what she needed to know and what she didn't, and what he wanted to her know. Three years worth of info, yet now suddenly he was drawing a blank.

"Okay. Let me explain. There are other mutants. I don't know what labs they came from. But, uh...they're out there. Some of them are nice. Some of them, uh, well, not so nice." He winced, remembering some of the rather embarrassing encounters he'd had. "Anyway...they're super, super...super weird. Some of them, at least. Like, they're not...all there. Like they're being controlled. Well, we did some testing, and some interrogation, and we traced their behavior back to this...this drug. It's being distributed between mutants like crazy, but it almost instantly kills normal humans. We set up a plan with another mutant, a woman, to find out where the drug came from, and where people were getting it."

He paused, putting the rest of the pieces together in his mind. "Mattie...these mutants have been around for...for decades. Maybe even centuries." He looked at her and slightly shook his head. "We weren't the first ones and I can guarantee we aren't going to be the last. There have been programs like this around for...forever. But...but that's not the point. The point is that this drug is new. Relatively new, at least, but...there are massive, massive underground tunnels. Like subways, but not open to the public. You wanna know the only way you can get to them? You have to morph through the ground, Mattie. If you don't have that ability, you have to find someone that can morph you down there and get you back up. It's...it's crazy. But, that's where they get the drugs, this drug, and the woman we worked with believes that it's a drug that puts the ones who take it under a type of mind control. Just what the scientists who screwed us up this way wants. And the ones who are taking it..." He swallowed hard. "They're rounding up the Rebels. That's...that's us. The ones who escaped. And they're taking them back. And they're super, super, super aggressive."

Figuring that this would be enough information for Mattie to take in for now, Nicholas took a huge breath and concluded with, "As for Jacob...he's...well, he's here. He's here with me."

Mattie was quiet through the whole thing, quietly taking this all in. She'd suspected that she and Nick weren't the only mutants; how could they be? In a lab of who-knows-what-size and a country full of fairly powerful governments, individuals and organizations, she'd simply always doubted that they were alone. The rest, although alarming, didn't get much of a rise out of her. After all, she'd known that something was up. Something was being hidden. And she knew that this was probably only the tip of the iceberg.

The last part, however, was very effective in at least changing her facial expression.

"What the fuck did you just say?!" she shrieked. "What––what––! Jacob's here?! Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god––we––we have to stop at a gun shop, Nick." Her voice had gone high-pitched and was cracking from the sheer terror of it. "Who gives a fuck about the drugs or the subways? We have to get moving, get far, maybe flee the country, oh god you should have told me he was still after you..."

"Mattie," Nicholas stood from his seat and raised his hands, palms facing her. "Calm down. It's okay. He's...staying with me."

She almost punched him in the face again. Almost. But somehow, some way, she restrained herself... for now. Instead she shouted, "Shit on a motherfucking shingle! You have not been here long enough to pull stupid-ass jokes like that on me!" Mattie was snarling. A lot.

"I need to get some air," she muttered angrily. She headed for the remains of the front door.

Personal space was not something that Nicholas wanted to give Mattie at the moment. He was right on her heels as she headed for the door. "Mattie," he said again, "It's okay! He's...well, I mean, I get-- agh. He's changed. Oh my God, that sounds so bad, but it's true. He saved my life. He...he saved my life. I mean, I know he tried to kill you, but he was...different then. He wasn't right in the head. He saved my life, he...if it weren't for him, I wouldn't even be standing here talking to you."

She kicked the door down and stepped over it, stomping outside. One could probably see steam coming out of her ears if they looked hard enough. And she really, really did not like Nick following her so closely.

She turned on her heel and flashed a set of sharp teeth at him. "Back off, asshole! Stay in your lane! When you're at least five fucking feet behind me you can give me an explanation as to why Jacob's soooooo nice now." Needless to say, she was infuriated. Her assumption was that if that piece of shit could save anyone's life, it certainly wasn't intentional.

"I told you why!" Nicholas immediately shot back a snarl at her, revealing his own razor-sharp pearly whites. He made no attempt to step back, keeping the same close distance that he happened to be at when she stopped short. His palms were heating up as he kept them clenched into fists. "That bitch was going to kill me. I was on the ground. It was pathetic. I thought for sure he was going to kill her and me both. I...blacked out," his voice had softened now. "I woke up on his couch. He's got a place a couple cities over. He helped me. I helped him." Then, his rage seemed to come back to him. A flash of red passed through his eyes, and he stomped his foot while saying. "He's still my brother."

"And he still felt you up in the simulation!" hissed Mattie. "Or have you forgotten that? And have you forgotten that he tried to rip me apart while I was drowning in a cold-ass lake? Oh, but that doesn't matter now. Because he's your brother." She should have been afraid of that flash of red in his eyes, should have taken the appropriate course of action, but of course, she was too hotheaded. She shoved him back from her, figuring that if he wouldn't give her some space, she'd make him.

"I think I'm in greater danger with the likes of you in my life than not," she spat as an afterthought. "So take your noble fucking intentions and get out."

The heat from Nicholas' palms finally poured out and his fists were set aflame. His eyes were burning red and a deep growl was ripped from his throat when he was shoved backward. "You're not getting it!" he boomed in a voice that seemed too deep and too gravelly to be his, opening his fists so quick that a ball of fire was dispensed downward onto the concrete from each hand, leaving behind black burn marks. His wings twitched and spread instinctively, ripping through his shirt. They'd faded from their original light brown to a dark black-gray over the years he'd been away from her. They flapped once, retracted and folded, spread out again, then folded once again.

"You're going to die if we don't do something about this and I'm trying to keep that from happening!"

Mattie shrank back instinctively with a sharp gasp, throwing her arms up to shield her face, like a coward––but how could she help that when her ex/lover had just shot balls of fucking fire onto the ground? She was still snarling, but quivering now too. She didn't know of anything that she could do that was anything like that. And it was a shame; retrospectively she wished that she could defend herself from that sort of attack.

After the initial moment of shock, she regained her motor abilities. First she turned tail and ran from Nick, and when she'd gained enough speed, she spread her own wings––notably less impressive than Nick's, but certainly functional––and took flight. She didn't know where she'd go or what she'd do. Right now the terror of seeing that fire had seared one thing into her mind, and it was to get the hell away.

Please let me remember my training.

It was instinct.

He couldn't help it when his wings re-spread and he found himself chasing after Mattie through the sky. She was always considerably faster than him when it came to flying, running, or anything in general, but his sheer rage fueled his speed as he pumped his wings faster, faster, and eventually enough to catch up with her. They were, luckily, in the desolate part of town when he collided with her, wrapping his arms and his wings around her. He was growling and panting, and he didn't even register Mattie's screams or his own as they plummeted to the ground. Something clicked inside of his head, and he immediately positioned himself so that when they made impact with the ground, Mattie would land on him and he would take the damage.

They miraculously landed in front of the motel that Nicholas and Jacob had been staying at. And guess who happened to be coming out?

Obviously, Jacob was dumbfounded. His brother and his brother's ex(girlfriend) thing had just landed in front of him in what appeared to be the aftermath of a fight. Everything was eerily still for the first few minutes, and then Jacob dropped his keys and rushed over to the scene.

Nicholas was disoriented. Very disoriented. Something had stabbed him and it was hurting. He still had an iron grip around Mattie, but felt himself being pried away from her. He heard his name being called. Over. And over. And over.

A slap to the face brought him out of his confusion. "What?!" he snarled, throwing his arm in a useless punch that didn't hit anything.

"What are you doing?! What have you done?!" Jacob shook him like a rag doll, voice raised.

Nicholas tried to push Jacob away, but found his strength to be failing him. He looked for Mattie -- was she hurt? Did he hurt her? Oh God, did he hurt her? What stabbed him?

"Did I hurt her? Did I hurt her?" he kept asking.

"She's fine," Jacob growled, practically throwing Nicholas on the ground only to pick him back up by his shirt. "What did you tell her? What did you do?"

Nicholas shook his head, then went limp in Jacob's hold, blood pooling around him.

"Mattie," Jacob said, turning his attention toward the woman. He was prepared to defend himself. He seemed to be completely ignoring the emergency state that Nicholas was in. "Are you hurt?"

Glancing back, Mattie saw Nick swooping higher and higher with powerful wingbeats. She tried to fly faster, but could only go so far before her wings protested by sending needles of pain through the muscles that connected them to her body. Adrenaline heightened that threshold but not enough: it wasn't long before he'd caught up, and grabbing at her, smothering her with his wings in spite of her cries...

They were plummeting, just like when Jacob plucked her out of the sky. This mental comparison increased both the volume and frequency of Mattie's screaming, as well as intensifying her struggling. But with no drag and Nick's weight making them both, once again, gravity prone, the fighting was useless. Just after one more time yelling her throat raw, they hit the ground––Nick first, and then herself.

Although she allowed herself to be extricated from Nick's painful grasp on her, her nostrils filled with a scent that was familiar, and not in a comforting way. It was in a way that made her already-racing heart thud away as if her pulse was imitating that of a hummingbird's. What was it? Who was it?

Slowly, propping herself on her elbows so as not to get up too quickly, Mattie looked up from the bloodied asphalt. Her forearms were scraped up from landing. Her bad wing felt like it was on fire right now, and every time she inhaled it got worse.

This isn't possible.

She unfocused her gaze, refocused it, stared in horrified disbelief as Jacob––yes, Jacob––approached her. She spat a gob of bloody spit on the ground and huffed as she heaved herself into a low, awkward crouch. Out came her teeth again, their sharp points making a clear visual warning for the man not to get closer (not that anyone listened to cues Mattie gave, whether physical or verbal). "G-get away. Get away from me!" Her voice was scratchy. The words blurred together. Her stupid head played the scene over and over again: one moment airborne, the next terminal velocity. Claws ripping up delicate muscle fibers. Cold, dark water plunging over her face, and into her eyes––her mouth––her lungs!

Whether it was a cause of physical injury or emotional response was unclear. What was clear was that Mattie had passed out again.

It was very evident that Mattie was not, in fact, okay. Neither Nicholas nor Mattie were okay at the moment -- and Jacob had no earthly idea what the hell had happened. One minute, he was walking out to go get a damn meal, and the next minute these two were all but dying in front of him. He was irritated, but more frantic than irritated. They needed immediate medical attention. Although the pool of blood around Nicholas was steadily growing, Jacob knew the limits of his brother and knew that he could withstand a few more minutes of bleeding out. So Jacob gathered Mattie in his arms -- she was surprisingly light -- and rushed her into the motel room. It was a good idea to get them both in before someone else saw. She wasn't bleeding. Wait, yes she was. She had a tear in her wing, the wing that Jacob remembered ripping years ago. He winced at the memory, laying her on one of the two beds.

Next he had to get Nicholas in. Nicholas was significantly heavier than Mattie, but Jacob had carried him a couple of times before. The hard part was that Nicholas was now half-conscious and obviously not in his right mind. He kept struggling in Jacob's hold. "Stop," Jacob hissed. "I'm trying to save your life, again."

"Is Mattie okay?" Nicholas groaned.

"She's fine, she just had a breakdown and passed out. What stabbed you?" No response. Jacob drug Nicholas into the room, slammed the door shut, and threw his brother on the other bed. "Lay on your stomach," he commanded him, but walked over to Mattie. He gently turned her over onto her stomach as well, lifting her shirt to inspect her wing. There was only a minor tear, from what he could see on the outer appearance. Nothing that couldn't be fixed immediately. His hands hovered over her wing, omitting a faint, green light, and within three solid minutes, the tear had healed and scarred over.

"Now," Jacob said, turning to Nicholas, who had obeyed his command and was lying on his stomach with his shirt already pulled up. "Let's see what you've got here. Hold still." There was a shard of something sticking out of Nicholas' back, covered in blood. Jacob's eyebrows knitted together, and he grabbed hold of the shard, then slowly began to extract it from his brother's skin, eliciting a very loud, shrill, and pained scream from Nicholas. He began to squirm. "Hold still," Jacob hissed. "I can't get it out if I can't grip it. It's bloody and slippery."

"It's bloody?!"

"Well, yeah, it stabbed you." A tight grip and a yank, and the shard was out of Nicholas' back and in Jacob's hand. Nicholas screamed again as blood started pouring out even quicker from the gaping wound that the shard left behind. Jacob sat the bloody shard on the dresser top, pulled open a drawer and retrieved a roll of gauze and a bottle of rubbing alcohol, then faced Nicholas again.

"I know what's coming," Nicholas moaned pathetically. "You're gonna pour alcohol on it."

"Got to," Jacob snickered, reaching in the bedside table and pulling out a dry towel. He soaked it in alcohol and pressed it to the bleeding wound on Nicholas' back. Another scream. Actually, a series of shrill screams, and then Nicholas went limp again, but not unconscious. Jacob laid gauze over the wound, then taped it to his skin with medical tape. "Now, I'm not a doctor," he said, "but I think I did a pretty good job patching you up."

The gauze was turning a pinkish color even as Jacob stood and watched. The wound would have been too much to heal through his powers. It was definitely going to need stitches -- but Jacob didn't have those here.

"Kill me," Nicholas groaned. "Kill me because nothing matters now anyway."

"Oh, shut up. You're alive, she's alive, and we can work this out." Jacob rolled his eyes and carefully turned Mattie back onto her back, fetched a cold, damp cloth from the bathroom, and laid it on her forehead. "Stay on your stomach," he said Nicholas. "If you lay on your back, it's going to hurt. A lot."

"I'm sorry, Mattie," was all Nicholas said.

"She can't hear you, bud. She's out cold. Not hurt, just out." Jacob put a finger to the vein in Mattie's neck -- her pulse was quick, but slowing the longer she laid there. "She's gonna be fine. Don't worry. You're both gonna be fine. You've lived through worse."

Mattie heard screaming that sounded far away, or like she was listening from underwater. She didn't react, didn't move, didn't even process the fact that it was screaming––let alone Nick screaming. There were voices, voices but no discernible words. It sounded as if someone was talking to her, or perhaps about her, but all she could pick out was her own name among the echoes and garbled broken-sounding English.

After that, she sank into brief nothingness: no sound, no thought, only a faint cold feeling on her forehead. Eventually a fully-formed thought broke through: Where in the shitting hell am I?

It triggered her eyes to open fast and wide; an initial blur sharpened into surroundings. A room. A bed. Nick in one, and, right in front of her––youch! It really was that bastard Jacob! Up shot her heartrate again. In the blink of an eye she'd heaved up into a sitting position. He was holding them prisoner for sure. Or he'd brainwashed Nick. No, he'd most definitely brainwashed Nick. Why else would they have been staying together?

Of course, Mattie had chosen the wrong time to wake up. So she said nothing, did nothing, but glanced toward the window. That would do. In time.