Well, there you are, another chapte, as planned. I'll honestly say that I've not the slightestclue as to where this storry will go. I plan to keep my course, though, and continue right on. A special thanks to the very few but very special peeps who troubled themselves review! BUt to those who didn't... T.T cranky face!

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Green cradled her head in her hands, resting against the back of her chair as she allowed her powers,now far past spent, to regenerate. The Toad would live. She sipped tentatively at a glass of water. Her limbs, her head, her eyelids, all continued to stubbornly remind her that she lacked a day's worth of sleep. "Ash?"

Her sister emerged from the shadow's embrace. "Yes?" Her tones, usually sharp and unforgiving to others, softened the slightest in Green's presence. "Could you watch him for a few hours? Just check up to make sure he's still breathing?" A nod from her leather clad twin affirmed Green'shopes, and she retreated down the hall towards their room. Ash settled in her sister's seat, crossing her arms across her chest. The radio on the counter gave off a few oldie melodies, lulling the thorn-studded girl into a friendly doze.

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Victor watched Green's wilted form move down the hallway towards the quarters her sister and herself shared. He stepped into her path, half empty beer bottle swaying in his grasp. "How's the wart?" Had the girl not been as damned timid as she was, she might have looked up to meet his gaze. Instead, she silently replied to the floor; "Not well, he needs a real doctor, my healing abilities only run so far." She sounded truly crestfallen upon saying this, in a way that caused Victor to suspect perhaps a hint of true concern for the green man in the girl's fragile tones. "Aw, Toad always pulls through. He'll have his sorry green ass off that table before long." She didn't seam to gain any comfort from his harshly spoken words, though perhaps her shoulders had slumped a bit further, whether from relief or exhaustion he would never know. "Thanks Victor."

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Under Ash's groggy gaze, Mortimer stirred, his face twisting in agony as another nightmare caught him up in his drug induced rest. She observed with fascination as his fingers twitched and his body convulsing under makeshift leather restraints. His lips struggled to form whispering words, though none would emerge. Concerned, Ash stood, leaning close to decipher the slurred and jumbled sounds drifting from his throat. "Com'on Mort, speak up." She removed a slender hand from it's leather casing, placing it firmly on his brow as she called up her mutant gift. Empathy, as it seemed, was more a power than a weakness than some would come toadmit. Her skin came into contact with his, at which point a flood of emotion sent the young mutant mentally reeling. She kept her hold on his subconscious, though, as wave after wave of his tormented memories slammed into her mind. Gritting her teeth, she delved deeper through the insane levels of anguish and hate, right down to the source of his nightmare. My god.

She extracted the painful effects of the memory, though she could do nothing to remove the memory it's self. Taking the torturous emotions, a wisp of darkness, on the tips of her fingers, the mutant carefully blew them away into the musty air of the medical room. She would never speak to othersabout exactly what she had witnessed in the confines of Mortimer's mind. It was too private, toopersonal for others to know of. Settling once again into the bed-side chair, she leaned back, intent onnot letting the evil memories return.

(the next day)

Locust set his wiry frame into the softest (and most worn) cushion of the couch, milk leaking from the corners of his mouth as he shoveled cereal to his lips. The television's screen depicted a black and white war scene. Cowboys and Indians. He slid the back of his hand over the slant of his mouth as droplets of out-dated milk collected on his chin. Green flopped onto the couch next to the insect-dubbed mutant, a mug of lukewarm coffee clutched loosely in her hands. Locust raised a critical brow at her ungroomed, unshowered appearance. "Late night?"

She cast a half hearted glare in his direction, her unspoken answer apparent as she casually flipped him the bird. Locust shrugged, spooning a bit more of the sugar-frosted flakes into his mouth. "-Simple 'yes' would had sufficed."

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With the coming of dawn, Ash's eyes had only just closed, no longer able to resist the sleep her body commanded. Her lips parted, the slightest snore escaping. Ash was asleep, a fact soon observed as Green entered the silent room, having showered an escaped the sarcastic tones of the insectiniod mutant upstairs. She quickly took Mortimer's pulse, nimble and inexperienced fingers searching for reaction under the skin. There it was, faint and erratic, but enough to keep him living, apparently. She jotted down a few notes, not exactly what for, as she knew she would never refer to them in the future. Perhaps just to assure herself she was doing well.

Careful not to wake her slumbering twin, she set to work changing the makeshift bandages and re-applying her healing touch to the wounds. Most everything seemed to be in order, and the bleeding had all but ceased. She had removed the glass shards from his skull, and had focused a great deal ofenergy on the anti mutant symbol that had marked his upper arm, though there would always be a faint scar. "You may live yet, Toad." She grimaced at the strange nickname, mopping at his browwith a dampened cloth. "You may live yet."

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