Remy bunched his hands into fists and pressed them to his eyes. Why? Why every time he stepped into the light did something bad happen?

The first years with the X-men were rocky but he was fighting to make the world a better place and more often than not, succeeding. It was the perfect atonement for his past sins. He gave more than he took and discovered a level of contentment unlike any he had known.

A sense of family and togetherness had eventually engulfed him. He was no longer alone; people cared what happened to him. The feeling was similar to napping in sunshine, all warm and fuzzy. Though he played the part of the loner, just knowing that he had friends to turn to was enough.

He even found love. He believed he and Rogue could build something everlasting no matter the obstacle. She felt differently. It had taken a long time before he could see the truth in her final words to him on that fateful day of banishment. You trust the ones you love. He had loved plenty but apparently not enough to trust. In the end, it had cost him all he held dear.

The climb back to respect was difficult for him, so many times it would have been far easier to slide back to the shadows and become the nightmare the X-men thought him to be. He had overcome and once again was part of Xavier's vision of a better world.

He removed his hands from his face to allow his lips to twist in a bitter smile. Overcome, that is what Kyler had said, he had overcome all to be the man she loved. A man she loved but didn't trust to love her.

The smile faded. There was that word again, trust. It always came back to that. He learned the value of trust as a commodity the hard way.

Kyler would learn it too. Even though he still angry with her for putting herself and their baby in jeopardy, he knew, deep in his heart, she was speaking the truth when she told him she hadn't informed him because she was scared. Knowing that there was no intentional deception, however, did not make the loss any easier.

Finally, after all these lonely years, he would have had a family, a sense of belonging that he had longed for most of his adult life. Fate was cruel for bringing him so close to his dream only to snatch it away from him.

Remy's eyes glowed red with rage over his last thought. Fate hadn't killed his child before it could take one sweet breath, Sinister had. It would be Sinister who felt the full extent of a father's wrath, somehow, someway, some day.

Hank approached her hesitantly. It was a crude sentiment but sometimes it sucked being a doctor. Healing could be a slow painful process.

"Kyler?" A stab of sympathy hit him as her eyes flickered open and she turned to him. The missing sparkle of livelihood left her gaze dull, lifeless and disturbing. "I apologize for interrupting your rest, however, I need to, that is..."

Stars and garters be damned! He fervently wished that this wasn't necessary. He gave himself a mental shake and plunged ahead deciding to get it done and over with. "I need to message your uterus to be certain it will return to prepregnancy size."

Kyler nodded, saying nothing as he placed his hand on her belly.

"I will try to be gentle." The gaping cut Sinister had left behind was now only a thin angry red line. Not for the first time, Hank was grateful for the technology bestowed upon them by the Shi'ar.

"I have made several scans of your reproductive track and you shouldn't experience any difficulty conceiving in the future." Hank told her, hoping it would give her a small measure of comfort.

She simply nodded again in response. With a heavy heart, Hank fell silent and continued his ministrations on her abdomen withdrawing when he was finished.

Giving the only type of comfort he could think of he patted her arm and left Kyler to watch him depart.

She closed her eyes in resignation. She should have told him she appreciated his efforts. None of this was his fault; it was hers and hers alone. She did this.

It was her stubborn arrogance that caused her baby's death, arrogance in her own abilities and importance. It wasn't long ago she was saying revenge was a dish best served cold. Well, she certainly felt cold now, cold and empty.

It was nothing less than she deserved. She had been a fool. She knew it was risky but like an enraged bull she charged ahead into the red flag of danger. She didn't deserve the right to be a mother when she was too stupid to protect her offspring.

Lord, what she wouldn't give for a second chance! She would tell Remy right a way. She would never put herself in a compromising situation. She would sit back and get fat and sassy. She would...

Stop it! She chastised herself. Her precious baby was dead and no amount of wishing would change that. Tears seeped out of her tightly closed eyes as she wrapped her arms around her belly.

How long would it take for time to ease this ache? Did she even have the right to seek peace after allowing the baby to be nothing more than a tissue experiment in Sinister's lab? *************************************************************************************************************************

Scalphunter pushed the com unit and waited patiently for a response. He wondered what Sinister wanted this time. Whatever it was, he knew Sinister would soon have it. He was well paid to ensure precisely that.

He opened the door when it buzzed signaling the release of the lock. Sinister's laboratory never ceased to amaze him. It was a collage of scientific machines and tables filling every corner and cranny. The equipment at Sinister's disposal was top notch, he should know having acquired several useful items himself.

Scalphunter strode into room, quickly locating Sinister scribbling away at a desk. It wasn't difficult to spot his darkness amid the bright lights and colorless machines. There would never be a mundane white lab coat for him, Scalphunter reflected amusingly. Sinister only wore his artfully tattered cape, and it suited him.

The bat wing effect helped complete the predatory image. Scalphunter checked out his own attire, perhaps he should consider something other than the Marauder's off the shoulder style. No, he much preferred the rakish look, besides he doubted a cape like that would go with his earring.

Sinister finished writing and approached him with a piece of paper in hand. "Here is a list. I need those pieces immediately. The untimely visit of the X-men has set my original plans awry."

Thoughts of fashion flew from his head as he switched attention to focus on the task at hand. He accepted the list from Sinister reading it carefully. "I get right on it."

"See that you do." Sinister replied before turning from him and heading for a small glass tank on a nearby table. He stared at the tank full of fluorescent fluid while he spoke. "The project must be completed before I contact LeBeau. I have use for him."

One crusty eyebrow raised in brief surprise at the mention of the Cajun but Scalphunter said nothing. It wasn't his job to question Sinister's plans only to follow them through. Still, unless this project Sinister was talking about was some type of hold on the thief, enticing LeBeau would be difficult. Fortunately, that wasn't his problem. At least it wasn't yet.

He hesitated briefly before taking his leave, looking for the dismissive signal Sinister normally used. It was obvious Sinister was too engrossed in the tank to bother with formalities today. Something in that tank must hold a fascinating allure. Scalphunter sharpened his gaze and honed in, ah; there it was, a tiny mass floating serenely through the liquid. He didn't comprehend the importance of something that small but Sinister had been known to dabble in some strange stuff.

Not that it mattered to him. Let sinister play with his little globs, the Marauders' had a job to do.