Hey. Bet some of y'all thought I wasn't coming back to this story, huh? Ugh, sorry about going a whole year just to finish this fic in the series! But never fear, there's more to come:)

I did have to make a few changes in the previous two chapters to do a proper lead-up to a slightly different direction I took here than I'd originally planned. Nothing big, though. Except the Romy Danger Room scene in chapter 8. I rewrote that.

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this, let me know what you think, and keep an eye out for the next installment in the series!

Anna whirls on me fast, nearly falling off her stool in the process. "You're so damn unreal, you know that?" She spits out, "you dare come to me, all leanin' over my shoulder, and whispering in my ear, and your fingers all over my back, and now, you're talkin' to me like this, all innuendos and bad lines? Like ain't nothin' happened?"

I'm so damn unreal? Naw, that's her. She always has been. Not seeing her for a while apparently hasn't changed that, 'cause no lie, soon as she walked in and took the room, the place could've burned to the ground for all I'd have noticed, busy as I was starin' at her. Eyes wide, and with my mouth gaped open like a fuckin' mud cat out of water, no less.

Hadn't counted on her still being able to jerk an idiot's reaction out me. Hell, it's been a month, and I ain't exactly been pining or keepin' to myself since she left, eh?

"Nah, girl," I answer with a lazy smile, "it's 'cause a lot's happened that I'm here, talkin' to you in any way at all."

"Nu-uh," Anna snaps right back with a sharp shake of her head, "no. Whatever needed to be said between us is already out there, I'm not hearin' anything outta you now." She gestures off in the direction I came from, adding, "now why don't you go back to your pretty girls, and-"

"Three things, chere," I interrupt, pulling out a cigarette, "one, I'm already sittin' next to the prettiest girl here. Two, that ain't what I meant when I said a lot's happened. And three," I light up and blow the smoke away from her, "I ain't here for none of that, anyhow. And if I was," I flash her my teeth, and snip at her a little, "why go here, when there's places aplenty elsewhere, yeah?"

"Hmm, oh yeah, Remy LeBeau, the master thief of New Orleans, he doesn't ever go where he ain't wanted, huh?" She laughs into her drink. "Sing me another song, rat."

Looks like someone's been doin' a bit of homework since she's been gone, yeah? "C'mon now, girl," I tsk at her, "that's different. That's work y' talkin' about right there."

Anna pops up an eyebrow. "So, if you're not here for the usual, what you're really sayin' is, you're clocked in and lookin' for me?" She scoffs and looks away. "Same-ol', same-ol'. Just a different day, huh?"

"It is a different day, ain't it, chere?" I agree pleasantly, "and if y' lookin' for more of that same-ol, same-ol' out of this old boy, well," I let my grin grow slow, "you play nice, and I might could change my mind on what all I'm here for."

"Don't be an ass," she snaps out. "What is it you want? Storm get all worried about me again, and send you out to, what? Stalk me some more? Watch over me? Or maybe you're supposed to talk me into coming back?" Now she looks over, squaring right up at me. "If it's the last, then I'd call it a crap move on her part, sendin' you, seeing as how I'd about rather gnaw off my left arm than deal you again, huh?"

I dramatically clutch my chest and gasp. "Ah, now, that hurt, beb! Got me right in the feels, yeah?" I shake my head and take another drag off my cigarette. "Mais, non, Stormy ain't got much to do wit' me being here tonight. She's got me lookin' at someone else, a homme callin' himself Sebastian Gilberti." I tap the ash off my smoke, watchin' her reaction. Girl's in a bit of some shit, some of which has raised a couple of questions on my end. "You heard of him?"

"Really, Remy?" She laughs a little, then shakes her head. "Look. I'm pretty far out of the loop on anyone other than who's on the cover of a gossip rag at the corner store, so, no. No, I ain't heard much of him past what's on the news." She turns back to me with an expectant look, "And I'm sure you already know what's been said there, so, we done now?"

"I'd say it was a good thing you don' know much of him, but in this case, it ain't in your favor if that's all y' know." I reply, ignoring her attitude. "He ain't too nice a guy."

"Yeah, well, that's typically how it works, huh? The bad guys are bad?"

"Mmm-hm. I found out a couple of things about him along the way, and interestingly enough, he's been real busy findin' out a couple of things about you."

She rolls her eyes. "Uh-huh, and lemme guess. You've got something solid linkin' him to those Sentinel attacks here while back?"

"Mmm, well, I got something, yeah."

"Right, right," she continues in a mild tone, "and me and all those other poor ol' cured mutants are on his little Sentinel shit-list, and we're in so much trouble, right?"

"Astounding leaps of logic, sweetheart, but that ain't quite where I'm headed wit' th-"

"-And like, I haven't ever heard any of that before? That I'm in all this danger?" She asks with another eyeroll and a flourish of her hand. "What, you gonna start tellin' me next about how water's wet, too?" She snorts and gets up to leave.

"Naw, see, that's another thing, Anna, if you'd pipe down and listen for a minute," I reel her back in. "That shit-list, as you call it? You ain't on it. You, and a couple others like you. Not yet, anyway."

She turns back, scowling in confusion. "I'm not followin', Remy. You mean to tell me, I don't have to worry about Sentinels huntin' me down, like y'all were so worried about? That I been lookin' over my goddamn shoulder all this time, and- Christ, you got no idea- mm!" She cuts herself off with flattened lips, then practically spits at me, "Cajun, y'all on some real thin ice. And just what in sam hill do you mean, 'others like me'?"

I look at her for a second, takin' in the complete lack of patience flaring up behind that hot as fuck mouth of hers. Takin' in the confusion wrinkling up her brow, too.

I'm not here to hold her hand or give answers she ran from. I'm here to get answers out of her, see what she knows about Gilberti, if anything at all, and move along. With the mess I done come across, her name poppin' up as much as it has all in the middle of it, there's some answers to be had, alright. Every bit of it's making my instincts scream at me, tellin' me I've only scratched off the tip of something nasty, and that it's going back in a direction I'd just rather not fuck with if I ain't got to.

Hell no to getting dragged into this with her, if Anna's any more in it than how I already know.

I put out my cigarette and stand. "That's a talk, girl, and I don't think you want it right here. Maybe we head off somewhere that don't got us greasin' elbows with everyone crowdin' up for a drink?"

She looks indecisive, eyeing me while chewin' up the inside of her cheek. Then, she pulls in a deep breath and forces it out her nose. "Fine. You've got five minutes, Remy. And I swear to god, if this ain't good-"

"Now, now, chere," I give her a wicked grin and push my luck, "you know me better than that. I always make it good, yeah?"

She levels me a killing look and shoves past toward the back of the bar, and I can't help but smile a little wider as I turn to follow her.

After all, I got the prettiest thing in the joint demandin' I make it a good go of her time, what's not to smile about all that, neh?

So?" Anna gestures across the table at me, "talk. Start with that part about how you know Sentinels aren't on my tail."

"Eh, don't you get too excited about any of that, chere. How about we start wit' that part where you got an admirer, who's lookin' like he's got loud mutant-hatin' asswipes in high places, and possibly even worse friends is worse places on top of that, diggin' you up, and he just might be tied in wit' the Sentinel stuff, too, yeah?"

She shrugs irritably. "Alright. Good a startin' place as any, I suppose. So, Gilberti?"

"Mmm-hm, Gilberti." I lean back in my chair, watchin' her, "the man framed for the security breech at all them clinics."

'Cure clinics', they been callin' them, places throughout the country where mutants lookin' for the cure could get it. A handful of 'em in the city got broke right before the Sentinel attack, and wouldn't you just know, a bunch of names of cured kids got leaked to the wrong crowd.

To be more precise, forty of them names belong to folks we rescued that night, and a whole slough of others got thrown out to the public in the sloppiest, most half-assed covering of tracks I've seen in a good long while, bringin' in a new spike in anti-mutant crowds, this time targeting those that took the cure.

A goddamn mess, is what it was, all done to distract. And it sure as shit wasn't meant to distract from the hack itself or the Sentinel situation like everyone's tryin' make it out for.

Anna stiffens in surprise, brows slammin' closed. "Framed? Thought they all but had him pinned for sure on that one. And besides," she adds with a suspicious squint, "thought you said he was lookin' me up. It'd fit if he was the one who broke in and hacked-"

"He ain't the hack," I cut her off, lighting up another smoke, "and he is lookin' you up, but he didn't get you from the leak, 'cause your name ain't anywhere to be leaked."

Another pretty little piece to the puzzle, there. Whoever broke the places set out to hide a few folks while at it, erasin' records from databases and the like. That part was done up right, putting the overall sloppiness of the job in question, and if I hadn't learned a thing or two from people better at hackin' than hackers, I might not have caught it, either.

To say that I might've took note when the name of a certain green-eyed bombshell of a cured mutant popped up in that find might be a bit of an understatement.

"Hold on, time out," she demands, hands slapped up in the gesture to go with her words, "what do you mean, my name ain't anywhere to be leaked? One of the clinics broken into was the one I went to. I'm in the system. Ergo, my name's out there somewhere. And who're these 'others' you mentioned earlier?"

I ignore the question to stare at her a minute. She ain't one to hide what she thinks and feels too well, and right now, it's a genuine mix of surprise, skepticism, and suspicion riddling that woman from tip to toe. Her body language ain't been throwin' me, her eyes haven't had the usual tells of a liar, and her emotions have been matchin' her words since I walked up.

I came in here tonight with a quarter mind side-eyeing Anna for a shit-stirrer, 'cause I got an idea on who it was that's responsible for the clinic breaks, a shapeshifter goin' by Mystique. Back when I knew her, she was just Raven. Didn't go by anything else, and seein' as how you can't find shit on her, I'd guess it's a made up name.

Anyway, the job's got Raven's stamp all over it. Just so happens, she and Frost go a ways back, too, like, pre- Hellfire Club-a-ways-back. I've got Gilberti tied to the Hellfire Club through Creed's pal, Bolivar Trask, and it ain't no secret that Frost ain't exactly friendly over there. And now it looks like her old bff set Gilberti up in the same job that also wiped Anna off that list of cured mutants exposed?

Some might call that a stretch, connectin' Frost, but considering the people in question, coincidences ain't ever coincidences, and that's too many all in one breath.

And as for Anna, she ran out on the X-Men when she was lookin' to be in all this trouble with the Sentinels, and come to find out, she wasn't, eh?

Someone went through some flashy lengths protecting her, and given the suspects, then Anna's either keepin' some pretty questionable company or she's in trouble.

The former don't quite fit the woman I was gettin' to know, but it ain't like folks in my world don't ever fall for that old trick at least once in a lifetime.

Unless I've completely misread her in the past and I'm misreadin' her right now, Anna ain't gotta clue about any of this. It crosses my mind to let her be, after all, she's the one who ran out of the safest place to hang out these days, and it goes without sayin' I ain't feeling all that sweet on her anymore. And it's not like the hard-headed little mule would appreciate a helping hand from me, anyway, no?

Eh, my tante Mattie always told me you get out of this world what you put into it, and I could sure do without an extra heapin' helping of spite thrown back in my face later on.

I pull hard on my cigarette and blow the smoke out my nose in a hard sigh. "Chere, I done said it, you wasn't on anyone's list from that mess of a hackjob. 'Cause the person who broke in made sure your name was gone before they threw everyone else's to the wolves. Gilberti's got alibis that check out for that entire shitshow, and he didn't start lookin' at you til well after the Sentinel attack." I take another drag off my smoke, cockin' my head at her. "You ever had a run-in wit' a metamorph callin' herself Mystique?"

"Pfft, name me a hero who hasn't," Anna snorts back, and then she slides me a curious look. "But yeah, a time or two," she answers perhaps a little too coolly, then she shrugs. "You think she's the one who broke the clinics and squirreled away my name?"

I shrug noncommittally. "You, and a few others, maybe."

"Alright, well, you gonna elaborate on that at all? Or you gonna continue being all cryptic and mysterious about everything?"

"What I'm gonna do is ignore that rude tone of yours for a minute, 'cause—"

"—well, if I could ever get a straight answer outta you, I might—"

"—'cause I was gettin' there, Miss Impatience—"

"Remy, I swear to Jesus—you're down to three minutes. Best get to your point fast, Cajun, 'cause I will cut you off mid-word and leave—"

"—mais, you ain't gotta get y' nose all outta joint, chere, if you be quiet and calm the fuck down for a second, I might could tell you, eh?" I finally snap at her with an exasperated look.

She narrows her eyes down at me, clenches her jaw, then flings a hand in a pointed gesture to go on.

"As I was tryin' to get out there," I continue just to needle her a bit, "one such other is Sophia Stepford. Know her, by chance?"

"Nope, I surely don't," she snots right back, obviously all too happy to tell me that.

"Hmm, alright, how about twins, Irma and Phoebe Grand-Kick?"

"All that dancin' around to drop a buncha names I don't even know," Anna chortles like a fuckin' nine year old into her drink. "So dang dramatic, I swear."

"I'm dramatic, heh," I snort right back at her, reasonably satisfied with her answer, "you the one actin' like I just took a couple of decades to tell y' something for the fun of it, when all it was is you can't keep that mouth shut for a minute. But that's alright," I grin at her real slow and decide to spark at her fuse a little, "always did appreciate y' mouth best when it wasn't closed."

Her eyes pop wide and then squint back down to slits. "Oh, don't be gross, please. Run your trap at me like that again, and time's up," she snaps, shifting irritably in her chair. She's flushed, though, and that hard-ass stare flies off elsewhere real quick.

Ho-ho, look like someone ain't so unaffected as she wants to be, eh? I start laughing. "Ah, chere, now that ain't even close to my kinda gross. Yours, either, so you can quit that act right now."

She shoots me a look to let me know exactly how much she didn't appreciate a thing I just said. "Who're these gals, anyway? Why am I supposed to know 'em?"

I finish my smoke and let her change the subject back to the problem at hand. "Never said you was supposed to know 'em, just seein' if you did. It ain't all that important that you do or don't." And it isn't, as far I know right now, anyway. "What's interesting here is the fact that Gilberti got set up in clusterfuck all to make sure you and them three don't show up, and y'all don't— zip, zilch, rien, nada, niente, you ain't there —and y'all on his radar now, anyway."

Anna sucks in her lower lip, and my eyes drop from hers to watch her drag that lip back out. "I don't suppose you know how he got us and why he cares so much, huh?"

"Ain't them some million dollar questions?" All's I know is what I caught him at while he was doin' it. I'd had to do things the old fashioned way on that end, and focus on catchin' him red-handed in the middle of something since I didn't find shit else on him. A little B-an'-E, a little installment of remote snooping software, and I was sittin' pretty, just waitin' to get a good ding from anything he did on a computer.

Turns out, Gilberti's a dumbass when it comes to Interneting quietly, so I got a few dings. All of which makes him even more 'interesting', considering the whole no past thing. Most people without a past are either in a protection program or they know a little something about hidin' themselves on the Internet. This guy's not either of those. He literally seems like he fuckin' dropped in out of nowhere, which ain't a pleasant possibility to consider.

"Well, I appreciate you giving me a heads up and all, but I gotta feeling you didn't do it 'cause you're a great guy. So why are you here, tellin' me all this?" She asks with a wave of hand, those eyes nailin' me to the chair.

I grin at her. "Minin' the salt for every grain it's worth, ain't you?" I shrug. "But if you'd prefer I hadn't, you could've cut me off at any point, so maybe don't worry too much on the whys and wherefores, eh?"

"Don't you spin it around," she snaps, "I know you coulda just gone to Storm or Logan with all this. You didn't need to say a thing to me, unless something's in it for you."

"And you ain't so wrong, there." I shrug. "Jus' a little give and take, is all. I got answers, and now you do, too."

She sucks in her teeth, eyes sizzling up. "Yeah. Sounds about right. As with everything between us, you got what you wanted first, huh? I gave, and you took?"

I stare at her, waitin' that one out. She's got her mouth flattened out, and she's now glaring at her fingertips running the rim of her glass, actin' like she's got more to ask, like it's eaten at her a little that she hasn't asked it yet.

She glances up, and I still swear it, she's dead-ass the most stunning woman I've ever seen, especially when she's riled up and feeling shit. That little rip of nerves, hurt, and resentment I've felt behind her every word tonight is punched up full-force in those eyes, the tightness of her jaw, and the pinch in her mouth just now.

"Why'd you do it, Remy?"

"Do what, chere?"

She's fidgety, for all she's starin' a hole in me from across the table, agitated and shifting in her chair. "Me. Why'd you mess with me? Of all people?"

I shake my head. "I didn't."

She damn near visibly sharpens up at that. "Don't you lie to me, Remy. A straight answer, just once, huh?"

I lean forward, elbows on the table. "Ain't lyin' to you, Anna, I never did. I left out lots of things," I shrug, "and so did you. People like us, leavin' shit out til we can lay the cards down kinda comes wit' the territory, yeah?"

"I left things out?" She squawks and jerks back in her seat, thoroughly offended. "Like what? My favorite color? I was wide open with y-"

"Oh, y' were, were you? So, we're gonna just leave that part alone where a man askin' you out an' about might wanna know some of the hell he's gettin' into wit' you? Me, I ain't all that mad about it, 'cause that kinda shit never mattered to me and we all got our secrets, but it's the principle of it all, ain't it? Especially since you're so quick to tack my hide to the wall over it, yeah?"

Anna pops up, and her chair scrapes back hard and loud, gaining people's attention around us as she slaps her hands on the table and snarls at me. "You absolute ass, that's not- yeah, fine, you know what? I did, I left some stuff out. I left out the fact that I had a power that kills with a touch. I left out that part about how I used to be a 'superhero', and I left out the fact that all that supering was an insolatin' cage I wanted out of. And I guess I did leave out my favorite color, but only 'cause you were too busy playin' me to ask what it was." She sucks in her breath, eyes blazing. "So yeah, I left a few things out. Only difference is, my things were personal, and it only affected me, because, you know, I'm cured." Her lip curls on that last word, and she continues, flingin' a hand at me, "and you knew all about it, anyway, so don't you even pretend like it's the same!"

I raise brows at that. "But you didn't know that, didja? It's the same goddamn thing, Anna, just a couple of different twists. You really think all your shit affects only you, chere? You gonna act like you didn't know that cure was failing? Act like holdin' out on crap like that killing touch might not affect people tryin' at something wit' you? What about Stormy? Logan? Folks who call you family? You think your little cured story never affected them any?" I lean back. "Nah, girl, you can be pissed at us assholes all y' want, and you ain't one bit of wrong for it, but you, you ain't no angel here, either."

"Uh-huh, and your five minutes're up," she spits out, hitchin' her purse up on her shoulder.

"Yeah, alright then, run off again," I mutter loud enough for her hear as she stalks off, rolling my eyes. She don't even turn around, just throws me the middle finger on her way out.

Pah. Knot-headed bitch, openin' that particular can of worms, and she don't wanna see anything past her own end. She'd rather get her last word in and run off again.

Stupid. I'd know a thing or three about it to say so, too. Cuz she ain't the only stupid one here. That whole thing with her was fucked, anyway, too much in the middle right out the gates, and neither of us really able to do anything about it. I'd never expected it to even be a thing, and then it was, and then my impulsive ass just rolled with it. And Anna, she did the same damn thing, pushing and pulling the whole way.

Heh, one thing's for fuckin' sure, neither one of us lied a bit when we said we sucked at being with people.

I snort and get another cigarette, light up, and leave, pulling out the phone on my way out. For better or for worse, I got what I came for, and the clock's not stoppin' yet tonight.

" 'Ey, Fence, how you doin', man? Listen, came across a little something, made me think of you…"

Sebastian is a man without a past.

Well, as far as the present is concerned, anyway. He does have a future, which seems to collide a bit weirdly with his past, in that it seems as though time doesn't stay in line, if his spotty memory is anything to go on. Spotty as it is, it's all he's had to go on since literally waking up on Rose Gilberti's doorstep.

Lucky for him, Rose answered her door with a sharp smile and and flint of recognition in her eyes before welcoming him in.

Lucky…

Not lucky. Despite having next to no memory to start with, past an urgent sense of having things to do and a vague feeling of supreme irritation, he hadn't been lucky. He'd known he was supposed to be right where he was, and she'd known who he was.

He laces his fingers across his chest and closes his eyes, mentally commanding his body to rest, despite knowing he won't sleep. The bed he was given is horribly uncomfortable, more like a concrete slab than a mattress, but that isn't the reason he won't sleep. He won't, because he can't. His mind never stops, never shuts down, is always on, chasing this thought and that, running circuits til another is discovered, and then it's wash, rinse, and repeat. It's always been that way, as far back as he can remember.

Which is further and further back, more and more frequently these days. Memories flashed up from another, brilliantly detailed fragments until they ghost just out of his reach. As of yet, they make little sense, but he innately understands that once something is there, it is never truly forgotten, so it's only a matter of time. A matter of another memory to spark more.

It'd all started that day mere months ago, only a handful of minutes after Rose had invited him in. She'd had the television on, watching the news run on mutant registration efforts. He'd rooted in the middle of her living room, head buzzing louder and louder as he'd listened, a hatred of a sort clicking.

'Mutant'. The one word that started it all, to open up a single memory, one that had dropped two hints: Graydon Creed, and Friends of Humanity.

Less than a week later, he'd already seen a Friends of Humanity rally. He'd gone in having already decided to join, and he'd joined in order to get close to Creed. Success had been his, as not only had done what he'd came to do, but listening to group rhetoric had triggered more memories, memories of grand, beautiful, but doomed initiatives toward mutant suppression.

Sentinels. Fantastic creations, each version more stunning and complex than the last, all projects ultimately inefficient and unsuccessful, due to short-sighted planning.

He remembers each start-up. The first had been so rudimentary, running on sheer size and weaponry, and intended for more of a policing role than anything. Later models had been heavily imbued with mutant powers, though he hasn't yet pieced together how that was achieved.

Apparently, neither has anyone else, because this recent Sentinel attack, they'd had a few abilities, but they'd been so crude, no sophistication, and there hadn't been nearly enough of them…

He frowns, eyes still closed. He remembers these Sentinels, recalls this recent launch, but not as it'd happened a month ago. Well, he does have that memory, but it'd pulled up a different one, one that feels like it'd happened decades ago.

He smooths his expression and lets that thought go. The implications there make little sense outside of some rather fantastic possibilities, so he doesn't dwell on it.

At any rate, where he had been lucky was in the fact that Creed is an idiot, despite being an absolute shark. It hadn't taken him long to chum up enough to use him as a pass to the minds and pockets behind nearly every Sentinel project ever risen, a small circle of influential men within an organization known as the Hellfire Club. Shaw, Trask, Gyric, Creed, Stryker… all big names, all happy to eat up every word out of his mouth in the end, and all in possession of leads his answers.

Especially Stryker. That had turned into a goldmine. All that research! And two doctors, in particular…

Those names promise other memories, but they still elude him.

He doesn't get frustrated with it, though. Instead, he turns that loose and grabs at other names that'd recently come to him.

Anna-Marie D'Ancanto. Power stealer. Kurt Wagner. Teleporter. Sophie Stepford, telepath. Irma and Phoebe Grand-Kick, telepaths…

And several more. But of all those names, it's those first five that stand out and demand his attention.

The first had popped up in his mind immediately upon laying eyes on Bolivar Trask, images of a proud woman with a look in her eyes to scrape out your soul. She had yielded the second name, and a rapid succession of flash images, other powerful mutants, and a rabbit hole sparking ideas (memories?) on super power-enhanced Sentinels. The last three names belonged to separated sisters, and had given up two more sisters, a long line of experimental siblings, and a neat tie-in to those aforementioned sparks.

There are more names to come, more memories to come with them, and they'll fill in the gaps. They'll lead him back to the creation of those stunning Sentinels, and the changes they'll drive. The success in the frontline against mutants, success where there were nothing but hit and run, run and miss failures, failures that will now be skipped.

To be successful, you can't rely on random attacks…

"...you need a coup," he murmurs the rest to himself, eyes never opening, certain he'd just quoted himself from his past, the world's future.