<<< All These Droplets

[Butterfly]

April 7th

Time was a strange thing for Layla Miller. The dance of fate and free will used time as it's stage, pulling at each other with equal force. She watched it. Well, watched wasn't exactly the right word. She knew it, remembered it, predicted it. The specifics of how she did what she did was not important to Layla. She was who she was, fate's chew toy, life's guardian. When she was young, before her mutation kicked in, opening her eyes to the chessboard of the universe, she assumed knowledge was power, that it would free her somehow. As she grew though, and the board's knights and kings moved into place, she realized that just the opposite was true.

What she knew, who she was, it would tie her down. She was to be the gum in the dam, destiny's temporary fix. The plates of the Earth were beginning to wobble. Layla was in charge of keeping them spinning.

The girl with the M on her face sighed heavily. She had been dreading this day, this moment for years. She had built it up in her mind, the pain, the fear, what would come after. She had tried to find a way around it, to get to the correct finish line without having to pass through this checkpoint. It was useless though. This would have to happen. She would have to endure it if what had to happen was to happen.

She picked a butcher knife from the counter and cut a vertical slit across her palm. Setting it back down, she made a fist and squeezed. A steady stream of blood trickled to the floor, pooling onto the hardwood.

She turned.

3...2...1

The door opened slowly, anticlimactic for something like this.

"Hey there," the person's voice was familiar. Of course it was. So was their face, their mannerisms, their everything. It had been designed that way. "What have you been up to Layla?"

"Are we really gonna do this?" Layla asked bitterly.

"I don't know what you mean," the imposter said, a wide smile smearing their face.

"Yes you do. And you know that I do. I know how this ends, just like you know that I know. That's why you're here. So let's get it over with."

"People must get so tired of you," the imposter mused, all pretense washing from their face. A gun appeared in their hand, though that was no surprise to Layla.

"Took you long enough," she said as the intruder guided her out at gunpoint. She took one last look at the XFI building, knowing she that, should she ever enter it again, everything would be different.

[Jamie Madrox]

“Oh come on Kyle, you know I got the moves.”

As if to prove his point, Jamie did a little two-step number in front of Kyle, spinning and snapping and wrapping it all up with a very 1980’s break dancing pose with one arm propped over his stomach and his hand up by his chin and a very cocky and confident under the brow expression tossed Kyle’s way. “And that was without music. Just imagine what I could do if you would just get over it and bust a beat.”

But it didn’t seem to matter that Jamie didn’t have music. It didn’t even matter that this wasn’t Jamie at all, but one of his dupes. Jamie and Alix were currently out investigating a case of a beheading. Well, technically it was the beheading of a statue-which really was more vandalism than violent crime, but it sounded so much more impressive when it was presented as a murder investigation.

Even in all of the silliness, Jamie was a highly perceptive individual, and something was telling him that all was not well in the homestead. Looking around, his eyes caught glimpse of a smear of red and he zeroed in on it intently. Looking down at the floor he spotted the droplets on the floor, but there was no sign of any sort of struggle. The fingerpainting on the wall seemed to him like it was left there on purpose…like an ominous sort of message. With his sharp animal senses, Kyle was already on it, and the two of them made their way over to the blood at the same time.

He almost hated to ask. Glancing over at Kyle with clear worry in his eyes Jamie found his voice to be small and meek. “Whose…” He cleared his throat. “Whose blood is that?” There was a little voice that he was learning to trust over the years. That little voice was telling him this was not good.

That little voice was usually right.

[Kyle Gibney]

"Uhuh. I'm sure you're great." Kyle muttered as he didn't even bother to look up from his phone busy playing Tetris on it which could be difficult at times with the long nails that refused to ever stay short, but he was making due today. The real Jamie was out with Alix on some case, Jamie had a habit of leaving behind a dupe whenever the prime unit left the building, just so that there was someone who actually had a private investigator licence around since no one else really seemed to have anything to make this exactly legal. Kyle considered the idea of getting one, but considering he didn't even pass high school...it wasn't exactly an option.

However the elf like ears quickly picked up the increased heart rate, the smell the body emitted when worried or fearful and then there was more to the smell. Blood. Amber eyes snapped to that overly perceptive predatory gaze that ferals could be known for as he looked around, sniffed, and silently acknowledge the dupe, putting his phone away into his jean pocket getting closer to sniff, picking up a scent trail.

"Layla." His voice rumbled before his eyes snapped to the door. Without saying a second word Kyle ran outside, crouching on all fours the feral began to work like a bloodhound. "East, the scent leads East. Someone took her, they have a gun." He sniffed again. "It wasn't fired though." He added which was a bit of a relief.

The blonde feral looked back to Jamie. "Get your helmet, you're riding bitch seat." Kyle stated planning on grabbing his motorcycle and trying to follow the trail that was left as fast as possible.

[Jamie Madrox]

"Layla?"

Something didn't sound right about that, and Jamie didn't even realize that he was shaking his head. Because Kyle was saying something that sounded like Layla had been kidnapped...taken at gunpoint somehow. His worried eyes glanced back at the finger-smeared blood prints on the wall again. It was the only sign there was. No sign of a struggle, nothing...except for the scent that Kyle was picking up on.

Fear welled up in his throat, and he looked over at Kyle, following him quickly back out the door and watching with anxious fascination as Kyle sniffed around and tried to pick up the scent. A few people passing by on the street looked down at him curiously as he rooted around on all fours, sniffing the ground.

At any other time it would have been perfect for some kind of witty line, but right now he was too busy fighting back a horrible sense of foreboding that was welling up within him. Finally Kyle seemed to narrow it down, verifying with a tinge of gravel to his voice that they had moved east. He hopped on his bike and tossed the helmet to Jamie.

"Get your helmet, you're riding bitch seat."

"What? Come on, I held my tongue the whole time you were sniffing around like Old Yeller and that's the way you talk-" He put on the helmet, grumbling under his breath and climbed on the back of Kyle's bike. There was no time to argue this, even if it felt oh so ever wrong. Not wanting to wrap his arms around Kyle he held on to the seat and clenched down with his legs for extra support.

It still felt wrong, but maybe slightly less.

The bike roared to life and without hesitation they sped away from the headquarters. Jamie only hoped it wasn't too late.

[Kyle Gibney]

Kyle slipped his own helmet on, even if he hated them incredibly much but it was the law, and despite the ability to heal from pretty much most possible damage he'd be able to do if he wiped out or crashed. However it was better than dealing with the cops, especially now without the SHIELD support in case Kyle did get into trouble.

Once Jamie got on, the engine roared to life and Kyle just went into the zone and peeled out from in front of the X-Investigations building down the street. Kyle ignored any witty comment Jamie's dupe gave him as they rode on the '83 Harley that Kyle (with some help from Box) brought back to life about a year ago.

Every stop the two came at, Wild Child lifted up the visor of the helmet, sniffing the air to find their path, but with time and fumes from car travel Layla's scent was starting to grow weaker, which really worried Kyle until he got a big hit mid street and he pulled a wild U-turn that nearly sweeped the bike out from under the two mutants riding it and he went way over the speed limit to reach the strong scent.

Finally he stopped in front of some property that looked abandoned, some old warehouse on the edge of town. First thing Kyle noticed was the chain and lock were cut off the gate. He took off his helmet and took a heavy scent.

"Jamie we need to get in there." Kyle said worried, something the feral didn't show very often as he leaped off the bike and pushed through the gate and started run as fast as he could without word as he kicked in the door and he followed the scent.

The scent of blood.

[Jamie Madrox]

It wasn’t exactly easy to hang on while Kyle Knievel raced through the city streets at reckless and unsafe speeds. Jamie tried holding the sides of the seat with a white-knuckled grip of death, but it wasn’t enough. And it wasn’t enough that he clenched the seat between his knees in fretful desperation. No, eventually he had to admit that if he didn’t take other seemingly drastic measures he was likely going to spill off the side of the bike and wind up with a road rash across his face or something.

Begrudgingly he put his arms on Kyle’s side and as the bike lurched and jolted, slowing down and speeding up time after time, Jamie held on tight, trying to imagine it was Alix and not some hairy Canadian dude that he was clinging on to. At one point he leaned his head against Kyle’s shoulder and just silently wished that the ride would come to an end.

When they finally stopped he got off the bike immediately, his eyes quickly taking in the scene around them. There was a chain on the ground, one link severed and the rest of it in a pile. Someone had bolt cutters, lending to the likelihood that this thing had been planned out somewhat.

He didn’t hesitate to follow Kyle into the building, and by this time the smell of blood was strong enough even for his nostrils. He pulled out a cell phone as he ran, dialing 911 and waiting while he frantically ran through the building. Somehow he knew. He already knew what they were going to find.

But knowing didn’t make the slightest difference or cushion the blow any when he rounded the corner and saw her lying there on her side. Her blonde hair was spilled over the side of her face and there was a growing pool of red swelling out from her.

And right then 911 answered. “Send an ambulance,” he screamed as he knelt beside her. Somehow he relayed the address and then hung up. “Layla,” he said, turning her gently to the side, his voice quivered just a little. “Layla, come on…stay with us.” Two fingers pressed against the soft of her neck felt a beat, though it felt weak.

He listened for her breathing and didn’t hear anything. “I’ll take care of this,” he said. “See if you can track down the shooter!” He tilted her head back and pinched her nose, leaning in to breathe life into her lungs with a couple of short puffs. Taking off his outer shirt, he held it in place over the wound and then leaned in again for another breath.

Somewhere in the distance he heard sirens.

[Kyle Gibney]

Kyle felt lost, angry when he saw Layla on the floor, life fading out of her. How often he felt useless when lives were really on the line. Having momentary flashbacks of last year during the summer when the Purifiers attacked a neighborhood in Mutant Town, firebombing them. That orange skinned girl Kyle fought so hard to get out of the fire, get her to someone who could have really saved her. Seeing her go into a body bag. Now he felt like this could happen all over again, but with Layla. Sure she was annoying but she didn't deserve this, no one did.

Jamie's dupe gave the order and Kyle marched off, Kyle did one thing, and he hadn't done it in a long time. The claws came out, feral eyes flared open and the animal was being let off the chain. Who ever did this was dead. Not injured, not arrested, they were dead. Whether Jamie saw the change in the Wild Child was no longer in Kyle's head or not as with a growl he vanished quickly looking for any other scents in the building, moving through the abandoned warehouse to find Layla's attacker. All he could smell however was Layla's blood, and Jamie's...Jamie. His face scrunched up like a confused predator smelling himself to see if more of Jamie's scent somehow rubbed off on him than he thought was possible in the short amount of time. Then his ears caught something and like a dog on a trail Kyle was off after the source, the person as the sound of a heartbeat was getting louder, but the scent... confused him.

[Jamie Madrox]

In all of the years that Jamie had been certified in CPR, this was the first time he had actually needed to use it. Worry creased his brow as he looked down at Layla, her head tilted back and her mouth slightly open. She took a sudden gurgling breath and coughed a couple of times weakly. Jamie put his fingers to her neck and pressed lightly. He had blood on his hands and shirt…Layla’s blood. His worry increased as he felt the unsteady and feeble pulse beneath his fingertips. He had her heart pumping again, but it didn’t look like she had long.

With one hand he kept pressure on the wound with his balled up and bloodied shirt. The sirens drew nearer and Jamie brushed a stray lock of blonde hair out of her face. “That’s it Layla. Hold on,” he said. “You know you have more stuff to do here. You aren’t done intimidating people yet. Come on Layla…”

Not being gifted with knowing stuff, Jamie had no idea how this was going to turn out. He only knew that she had to make it.

Meanwhile, another figure was moving toward the back entrance unseen. No sooner did he have his hand on the door to the outside when he heard Kyle moving up behind him. Still a way off, the figure turned to Kyle and gave him a good view of him.

It was Jamie’s smile that met Kyle, though it had absolutely none of Jamie’s warmth.

Raising the gun that had been used to shoot Layla, Jamie’s smile took on a particularly cruel edge as he leveled the gun at Kyle. “Adios amigo,” he said and pulled the trigger three more times. As Kyle fell backward he blew on the nozzle of the gun and then kicked the door open and ran out.

[Butterfly]

She hated fate. She hated the way it twisted your expectations. Likely things would happen, but almost always they would come to pass in away you did not expect and never saw coming. At least, unless you were Layla Miller. She would not count this as their first kiss. No, that was a ways down the road. But Layla had known from the time she was a little girl that the first time her lips would ever touch his. And that was sort of a fly in her ointment.

She coughed as she came back to the world. He was over her, concern painting his face. So different from the last time she was it. Though that was not him, not really. It came back to her, all that had happened, all that would happen, and the way that, unlike so many other times, things were not as pinpoint as they could be. This was a juncture point. There were a few possibilities. Most of them horrible, most of them dire, most of them likely.

"Hey," she muttered as her eyes fluttered. She wished it was over, but it wasn't. Not even close. "Don't look so worried. I'm gonna get you in a tux one of these days."

She tried to lean forward, but there was too much resistance. Her body felt like dead weight.

"I need you to listen to me. I don't have a bunch of time. Things are gonna get dark Jamie, really dark. I always told you to follow your gut. Do that, and you'll be okay. Not your eyes, not your brain, especially not your heart. You're gut, do you hear me? Your gut. You're a detective. Follow the lead"

She felt the darkness peak in on her and knew her time was coming to a close.

"But then again, what do I know? You probably shouldn't listen to me anyway."

[Kyle Gibney]

Kyle ran and ran until he came upon something that didn't make sense in the slightest. It was Jamie. But Jamie was left back there. Sure, multiple Jamie's wasn't something new, but why would there be another Jamie all the way back here? Before they even got here...

Oh god, it couldn't be. Layla's blood, the gun powder. It was him

"Jamie, what are you doing?! What did you do to Layla?!" Kyle yelled continuing to charge at the man moving out the back way. However the feral wouldn't reach him as the cold smirk came upon Jamie's familiar face. Then the gun that was used to shoot Layla was pointed at Kyle. The trigger was pulled and Wild Child had no time to move out of the way at this close distance.

Pain, lots of pain, the feral's felt more pain before, but in the stunned state he looked down at his chest with a pale expression to see the open and now bleeding wound directly where his heart was placed. The blond feral dropped, wind taken out of him from the impact, leaving him unable to speak as he blankly stared at one of his best friends who just shot him. Vision started to blur, sounds blended together, started to get dark.

“Adios amigo.”

Thing went black for a moment, or it felt like one as Kyle started to stir awake. Intense pain in his chest as a bullet was being pushed out of his heart and rib cage and finally the muscle and skin. Blood puddled around him and speaking was still hard, as was breathing.

'I hate getting shot...really. fucking. hate. it.' Kyle's first thoughts came to mind before he replayed what happened. Growled breaths forced their way out of his mouth and he forced himself to push up and start walking as the bullet continued to work its way out of his body. Kyle lumbered weakly leaving a trail of blood from where he was to where he swore he left Jamie before getting shot by Jamie.

There he was, still with Layla who could have been in better shape. "Jamie..." Kyle spoke with a growl. He moved his mouth but not much came out except a ping as the bullet hit the floor after falling out of Kyle's chest. There was something witty lost as Kyle for a moment lost words to speak before he looked at Layla crouching down.

"Hey Layla..." Kyle muttered softly, body still healing from getting shot in the chest. "Don't you dare give in to anything." Kyle continued dropping to his knees next to the girl. The feral felt powerless, covered in his blood after just getting shot by the same self cloning bastard that did this to her. Wait a minute...

"Lay's this is gonna be really gross but...god I hope this works..." Kyle muttered before biting into his wrist, tearing off a bit of flesh to keep it from healing up too quickly until blood started to flow quite a bit. He held the bleeding wrist against Layla's bullet wound. "I heal fast? Maybe if some of my blood can do the same for her? Even for a little bit. Right Jamie?" Kyle asked, really wanting this to work, though knowing it was possibly just a fool's hope. "C'mon Layla...you're not allowed to die."

[Jamie Madrox]

Three sharp gunshot reports echoed painfully loud through the warehouse, and Jamie’s head snapped up and turned toward the direction that Kyle had run. “GIBNEY!” He yelled loudly, but it wasn’t Kyle who answered. He heard a faint cough beside him and looked back down with wild eyes to see Layla gaining a modicum of consciousness. Her eyes fluttered and opened, locking on his face immediately.

She reassured him, urging him not to worry, though her voice was faint and he had to lean in closer to hear what she was saying. Something about a tux? He wrinkled his brow and shook his head, not understanding the first part.

But there was something important that she wanted to tell him, so he leaned forward more, close enough to where he could still look at her without awkwardness and close enough to where he could hear the strange and puzzling cryptic message. It didn’t make sense, not entirely, but Jamie had learned a few things about Layla since he’d started to get to know her. She didn’t choose to speak in infuriatingly indecipherable riddles because she thought it was funny. She had to do that. Nobody could be given the outline of their future and still make the choices that needed to be made when they knew the consequences in full and gruesome detail. So she gave gentle nudges, maybe sometimes with a little Layla flair, but not entirely without reason.

And this was what he took from it: Something was coming, and he needed an extra dose of objectivity. The last part as she closed her eyes again was what confused him the most. The girl who always claimed to know everything seemed to insinuate that he shouldn’t even trust her counsel. “Shhhh,” he said brushing her hair back as the sirens outside drew nearer. “They’ll be here any minute.” He could hear Kyle approaching and he leaned down closer. “I’ll keep your advice,” he said simply, and then turned to Kyle with concern.

“Dude, what the hell happened? Did you catch-“ But Kyle was busy biting himself and dripping blood on Layla. “You’re right…that’s freaking disgusting. The doors across the warehouse slammed open and Jamie yelled out “OVER HERE!”

As the paramedics rushed over, Jamie looked at Layla again, and then he and Kyle were pushed out of the way so the medical professionals could take over. Jamie looked over at Kyle, his shirt was covered with blood, but he knew that the wound had to have healed by now. “Hope you get a good look at the son of a bitch,” he said with a clenched jaw. “Because we’re gonna hunt him down.”

[Kyle Gibney]

Kyle watched as the paramedics took Layla away, turning himself so they would not ask questions on why there was blood on his body or a bullet hole through his blood soaked shirt. Another person he felt helpless to save. What sort of hero was he?

As Layla left Jaime turned his attention to the feral who took a moment to realize Jamie was talking to him. Kyle shook his head and got back to reality after the several thoughts of guilt. Kyle looked at Jamie in all seriousness. Then grabbed the dupe by the collar of his shirt, lifting him up and slamming him against a wall. Kyle let out a snarl and looked up at Jamie.

Kyle sniffed for a moment, making sure it wasn't the same Jamie that shot him, that shot Layla. No remnants of gunpowder. Layla's blood still on him, not the same though. Kyle lowered Jamie a little bit just so the dupe could get his feet on the ground. His grip however did not loosen.

"You did it Jamie." Kyle responded finally with a growl, angry with himself and what happened mostly, but feelings of confusion were also mixed into the odd little head of his. Anyone who knew a few feral mutants would know how quick and strong emotions could run if the mutant was not careful to control it. Kyle had been learning control, but he wasn't entirely exercising those lessons. "Not you, but you." Kyle clarified, or attempted to. "Wreaked of gunpowder, Layla's blood..." He added. "Nearly had you...but then you fucking shot me!"

[Jamie Madrox]

The last thing the multiple really expected was to be grabbed and shoved up against the wall violently. It knocked the wind out of him-and ejected another multiple in the process. With wide eyes he stared at Kyle and honestly found himself without anything to say as his friend stood there snarling in his face. He turned his head slightly when Kyle leaned in, not really sure where he was headed with the move…and maybe just a little more weirded out when he heard the sniffing sounds.

“Oh…kay…”

But when Kyle spoke, and his words made absolutely no sense. In the time that Jamie had been working with Alix, the dupes had discovered a certain invisible telepathic string that tethered them all together. He knew how many were out there, and what Kyle was suggesting was impossible.

Wasn’t it?

He shook his head as his back slid down the wall. “No,” he said-but as his sneakers hit the ground his legs refused to support his weight. Standing there with wide eyes he shook his head again and looked over at the other multiple for unnecessary confirmation. “That’s not possible,” he said with a faltering voice that hitched in his throat. “We…we would know-“

But the look in Kyle’s eye didn’t lend itself to argument and Jamie wisely left the thought unspoken. What he was saying was difficult to swallow to say the least. If what he was saying was true, it was something unprecedented in Jamie’s life. While every dupe was created with a slightly different aspect of Jamie manifest in the forefront personality, they were always largely Jamie and therefore there were certain things about them that you could take for absolute granted…

Like not having to worry about them blowing their friends away in cold blood…

So as the multiples processed this and what the exact ramifications of confirmed truth would mean-they knew for certain that this had everything to do with them, and it affected them at their core. “We have to find him,” the multiple said suddenly finding the strength to stand without Kyle’s assistance. “We have to stop him before anyone else gets hurt.”

[Kyle Gibney]

It took Kyle a moment to eventually realize how crazy he sounded, but he was upset for more reasons than one. Seeing Jamie with the gun that shot him, thinking about Jamie shooting Layla...possibly causing her death. Thinking about Jamie Madrox, one of the few people Kyle trusted, do anything like that was upsetting to think about it and even if it was not Jamie Prime, or this dupe the feral held in his grip, or the one that came from the impact. There was still some feeling of betrayal in Kyle's mind.

As the multiple stood on his own Kyle finally removed his hand from Jaime's collar, looking at it for a moment before the claws returned to their shorter length as they became sheathed in his finger tips once again. The feral took a deep breath, trying to refocus his mind as the dupe said they should go after the other Jamie with the gun.

"No..." Kyle muttered. "You go to the hospital, stay with Layla." He muttered softly. "Take my bike. I'll take this guy and I'll hunt the bad you down and I'll..." Kyle stopped short of his actual intentions. Sometimes Kyle wondered who all knew about Kyle's past, not everyone in X-Investigations was there when Kyle first came into the of X-Factor, when he was the homeless man that Alex and Madison found riddled with bullet holes by some anti-mutant gang members who were trying to mark their turf. The animal that still lingered inside Kyle despite the fool he was usually. The killer that for a brief moment wanted to be like Victor Creed. The killer that still wanted out at times.

Kyle reached into his pocket and forced the dupe he traveled with to find Layla. "Go, catch up with the ambulance, tell the others. I'll make sure to keep the other you from doing anything more." Kyle said sternly. "If I don't find anything by midnight I'll come back to base. Just...make sure Layla stays alive."

[Jamie Madrox]

With some things there just was no getting battle-hardened. It was difficult to see blood and excessive injury, harder yet when it was someone you were close to-someone you spent day in and day out around...someone you cared about. That part of it was hard enough, without all of the implications spinning in Jamie's mind as the multiple listened to Kyle and tried to absorb the import of his words.

A multiple had shot Layla?

It was unfathomable.

But he could tell by the look in Kyle's eyes...and hear it in his tone. This wasn't arguable and it was definitely not a point he was going to call his fine feral friend to the mat on.

He only vaguely listened to Kyle as he spoke, nodding his head in dazed wonder as Kyle told him he was going to track the guy down. A chill went down his spine as he heard the tone in Kyle's voice. He told himself whatever it was he was going to do to the guy...he didn't want to know.

Thankfully his feet seemed to know what to do even though his mind was still reeling. He took the keys to the bike in a clenched fist and headed out the door without another word.

Whatever was going on here, he'd find out soon enough...like it or not. Somehow he had the feeling that he was the Judas here, and he didn't know if he could take the truth.

(exit Jamie)