He was back.

God help him, he was back.

After his little hedonistic walk-about, Mat had eventually slunk his way back to the mansion, tail between his legs. No troubles getting back in, and so far Mat had yet to run into anyone he was trying to avoid. No sign or sight of Kealey and Agnes. That was a good thing. No Andrew or Gemma, too, for which Mat had no complaints. He had managed to settle back into the mansion's pace without garnering any real attention. Even the wall he had destroyed and hastily fixed had been repaired, no visible sign of Mat's intervention. Deciding that keeping his head down was the best way to get along in this place, Mat had spent the last week lurking to the sides, not bringing any attention to himself, not interacting with anyone. Only observing.

And he was bored out of his mind.

The itch to be active, to do something had gotten the better of him. Being incognito was a dull affair, and with all the watching Mat had been doing recently, his creative urge was bursting to escape. So he had decided to to some sculpting.

He figured this would be his compensation to the mansion, for all the art his golem had destroyed. In all the nooks and crannies of the mansion he could find, Mat was leaving behind a piece of memorabilia. A scene from Mat's memories, recreated in perfect detail. Statues of various students, at study, at play, at rest. Mat placed them all around the mansion in secret, drawing no attention to himself. After a while, students began to notice the new additions, flocking around them and speculating on their origin. It was all very amusing to Mat.

And despite everything, it felt great to create again. To bring forth the beauty Mat saw, in creations of stone, and glass, and steel. He had spied an adorable looking gargoyle girl the other day, and made a creation of her perched on the banister of the stairwell, her concrete smile looking down into the main foyer. He had left a scene of a mutant basketball game on the court, each player visibly mutated. The older teens, the small kiddies, Mat left effigies of many he had spied in his return.

And now, his masterpiece.

Mat had scouted a patch of green marble floor in some kind of living room in the mansion, set aside from the main one. A spare one, he guessed. One image sprung to mind when Mat laid eyes on the mossy shade of the stone. A girl he had met once, then met again just a week or so ago. Though, she had spent a lot of time in her 'natural' pink hues that night, trying to hide her emerald skin. A girl who had been nothing but kind to Mat since he had met her, one of the few since he had come to the city. A girl who, if Mat was honest with himself, fascinated and infatuated him. Whose sweet innocence washed away the grime of the world, of his life.

A girl who reminded him of his friends. Mat smiled, imagining what Trip, and Downpour, and Pockets, and Bloom would make of the timid green gorgon.

Mat's hand inched to his pocket, to the stone flower that rested inside. He had accidentally left it in his room when he fled from the mansion, and was relieved to find it still where he'd left it. When he had seen Andrea at that pub, Mat's heart had nearly broken at the thought that he'd lost the flower forever. His gift from Andrea. Her artistic masterpiece.

So, with a slap of his hands on the cold marble, Mat willed Andrea's image to his mind. The marble began to stir, before a delicate hand sprouted forth. Pulling free from the stone, a green and white marble version of Andrea stood up. She looked the way she had looked when first saw her, wrapped up in a raincoat and scarf, Sloth draped across her neck, the other snakes nestled in her hair, her hands clasped together nervously. Her expression was that innocent, shy smile that always amused Mat. He could imagine the golem blushing brown, and chuckled at the thought. The sculpture brought a lonely pang, like always. A desire to see someone he cared about.

Andrea, Mat realised, was the only person he could really consider a friend in this country.

Standing back, Mat admired his craftsmanship and detail, memories of being hugged by a snake running through his mind.

Art wasn't bad in Saph's book... He liked a painting or two, he had to admit; sure he couldn't begin to comprehend how some of them artsy types could sit and stare at a painting for hours on end, nodding their heads and rubbing their chins, but he liked thinks that looked good just as much as the next guy...

Unless they were in his way. All week he had been running into statues here and there. They were the talk of the campus. the kids loved them; something about a mysterious artist got all the girls are giggly and crap. What none of them realized was that someone had to clean it up! He had to spend hours breaking and discarding each one of those stupid little statues! Just two days before he'd had to smash a whole group of them out on the basket ball court so some students could play a game! He was starting to hope he could catch this vandalist, and that's what he was, a vandal, in the act already so he could give him a slap on the wrist and maybe a smack in the face! No... he couldn't do that... He had to remember that it was just a bunch of kids he was dealing with here; who ever was doing it probably thought it was funny, or just decoration...

The older mutant cursed himself for even thinking of hitting a student... to his testament, though... He wasn't in a very good mood; being jolly just wasn't on his to do list ever since Andrea... left. He let out a long, drawn out sight, climbing up from the chair he'd been sitting in in his room. He looked down to the half empty bottle of scotch at his feet, and leaned down to pick it up and place it in his hiding spot. Did I mention he was just a little drunk? He was. Just a little.

The X-man, let out a long burp, and looked about lazily... He had nothing to do; he was off today, and he didn't feel like fighting crime or anything like that. He opted to patrol the school anyways; a little walk wouldn't hurt, right? Wrong.

Before he knew it, he was standing at the door of a small living room, watching a young man who was definitely the mystery vandal himself! Saph didn't see what he was making, but it didn't matter. "freeze!" He let out a yell, and charged forward, accidentally stumbling just a little on the way, but catching himself. "Thought you could get away with it forever, eh? I gotcha now, punk! Do you have any idea how much work you have given me the past week? Huh?!" He passed the statue, and got in the guy's face, close enough for whiskey to be smelt.

>>> “Freeze!”

“...the hell?”

In the doorway of the room was a man Mat didn't recognise. His yell had startled Mat from his reverie, and when he turned to see who had spoken, the bloke started marching his way towards where Mat was standing. None too steadily, mind you.

Whoever this guy was, he wasn't very happy. Or very sober for that matter...

>>> “Thought you could get away with it forever, eh? I gotcha now, punk! Do you have any idea how much work you have given me the past week? Huh?!”

He approached close. Close enough that Mat could smell the alcohol on his breath. Idly, Mat wondered if this guy would get the third degree about being drunk in the mansion, like he had upon his most hungover arrival. Making sure not to back away from the man, Mat stood his ground, and eyed the aggressive newcomer. “Um....What? I haven't got a clue what you're talking about, mate. I don't even know you. I'm just minding my own business.” He gestured towards the sculpture of Andrea. “Just making a few sculptures, to liven up the place y'know,” he explained with a grin.

Seriously. Who the hell was this guy? And what was his problem?

Aside from being drunk and angry, of course...

Saphirus looked the little punk up and down when he refused to back down; he quickly surmised that he was the artsy type, and he could take him. That might assumption may have been assisted by the alcohol, but it was also most likely true; Considering he was still an X-man, and he took his job seriously, he decided to let the kid talk before moving right to punishment.

And... well... even while drunk and grumpy, he had to admit that it didn't sound like he meant any harm by what he was doing; Saph took a step back and placed his hands on his hips, looking at the man for a second... he let out a short sigh, and nodded his head, moving a hand in to rub his eyes. Sure, he was a little drunk, but he wasn't unwilling to cut a kid a break or two. "Look, these things have been in my way a lot lately... you can't be leaving them out everywhere, especially in places of high traffic... So... I dunno.... I'll let you off with a warning for now, but don't leave any more of these... thin-" Saph gestured to the statue, momentarily turning to take a look at it. The second he saw it he froze in his tracks; his heart mimicked his body.

It was her... It was Andrea. His eyes traced her being slowly; every detail was perfect; the skin, her face, the snakes... The snakes. His heart turned to stone and dropped daintily down into his stomach, which was good, because he needed it out of the way.

Without an added thought, the older mutant turned and moved to grab the young man by the scruff of the collar, quickly guide him to the wall, and slam his back against it. He spoke in a voice filled with venom. "Where did you see her? Tell me now!" He added in a little shake for good measure, as if it would somehow cause the information he asked for to rattle down from his brain and out of his mouth.

>>> "Look, these things have been in my way a lot lately... you can't be leaving them out everywhere, especially in places of high traffic... So... I dunno.... I'll let you off with a warning for now, but don't leave any more of these... thin-"

Oh, so that was the problem.

Made sense, Mat supposed. This guy was older than most he had seen at the mansion, and as he spoke Mat figured he must have been a member of staff or something. Though, that said, if this bloke was staff then he was setting a pretty crappy example for the kids by being drunk and yelling at people. Still, he had calmed down now.

“Sorry mate, I guess I didn't think of that.” Which he really hadn't. It was easy to forget that not everyone appreciated having random statues show up at random, even if they were art. And the guy had a point, he supposed. The ones on the basketball court may have been in the way, just a tad... “Next time I'll...I'll...” Mat trailed off, watching as the man was suddenly entranced with the statue of Andrea. A rush of pride filled Mat.

And quickly died when the man turned, grabbed Mat's shirt, and slammed him into a wall.

>>> “Where did you see her? Tell me now!”

Mat felt like a ragdoll in the clutches of a bad tempered little kid, being shook around and screamed at. Still in shock with the suddenness of it all, Mat simply stared, as he was treated like a can of spraypaint. Finally, the indignant anger began to rise, and Mat began struggling back, trying to push the man away.

“The fu--!? What the hell is your problem, d***head?” Seriously, this guy had flipped. He was nuts. Touched in the head. A few beers short of a six-pack. And with the smell of alcohol on his breath, it was easy to guess where those metaphorical beers had gone...

”Let me go, you prick!

Saph wasn't a small guy. He was considered a pretty big guy... So when Artsy Mc Statueface struggled against him, he merely applied more pressure. He would attempt to grab the kid's hand in his own, and force his arm across his chest in order to pin him solidly...

Whether or not that worked he gave one last violent shake for good measure, and then looked the kid dead in the eyes as he protested... He called him a few names and demanded to be let go... Clearly he didn't know how much danger he was in... The look on Saph's face, cold and grim, would probably help a little when it came to that... He spoke in a slow, firm voice, holding the boy in a vice like grip. "Shut the F^*& up... I want to hear one, and only one thing out of your mouth right now, and that is an answer... Where. Is. She?"

Saph entertained the aspect of placing a finger against this guy's head and painting the wall behind him, but that would be counter productive... he had searched the streets up and down and hadn't found a sign of Andrea... this little #%$# was his only lead. He was thankful that this was one of the rooms in the mansion that wasn't under surveillance. It meant that he could get away with a lot more.

Strong.

The guy was strong. And Mat was in more trouble than he wanted to admit.

Despite his valiant struggle, the man simply shook Mat stupid and wrenched his arm across his chest, pinning him to the wall. This guy wasn’t stuffing around. Whatever his relationship to Andrea, the statue had definitely been the trigger point. Adrenaline was pumping through Mat’s system now, causing him to shake and fidget against the drunk’s grip.

He looked the drunk in the eye, and a chill ran down his spine. It was that blank expression that drunks got, that blank look that said this situation could go any way. Which meant that Mat had to be very, very careful about how he approached this.

Very careful…

Hawking up as much phlegm as he could and gathering as much saliva as possible, Mat spat, straight at the man’s face.

And brought his knee straight up, towards the man’s fruits.

There was no reasoning with a drunk. Mat had dealt with enough, and had been dealt with enough to know that. Swift action was needed. Whatever this guy’s deal was, he wanted to get to Andrea. Was he some kind of psycho ex-boyfriend? Andrea, the first time he had met her, seemed like she was running from something. Was it this guy?

Whatever it was, there was no way in hell he would betray Andrea.

Like I’ll tell you sh**!”

He spit in his face... Not just a regular spit... A fully conjured and cultured hawk. Saph felt the knee coming with his handy dandy sixth sense, and blocked it with his own, grimacing intensely, he stared right into the mans eyes, the spit still sitting on his face.

"You'll F&$%in talk, allright. You'll tell me everything."

Whack! He sent a spit covered forehead into the face of the would be artist, being sure to hit hard enough to turn him into a rag doll in his arms. He wiped his face clean on the man's shirt, and then lifted him up over his shoulder.

He then put on a fake annoyed face, and walked on out of the room. A student stopped him on the way out, a little concerned, Saph simply rolled his eyes. "Got a drunk kid- Caught him vandalizing... I'm gonna go throw him out." The student paused for a second, smelt the alcohol, nodded a little, as if that was proof enough the kid was drunk, and walked off after saying. "I'll tell streak if I see him."

"Yeah." He then smiled just a little, and walked on out the front door.

Hours later, Matt would wake up in an alley, all of his possessions assorted on a table next to him. He would be securely tied to a chair. Saph would be seen standing above the table, combing through it's contents.

Pain.

Pain, and stars.

Pain, and stars, and a f***ing great headache.

It was possible, just possible, that spitting in the bloke’s face was a bad idea…

Creaking one swollen eye open, light tearing at his pupils, Mat saw the drunk, pawing through some items on a table. Looking around, Mat frowned, confused.

Wasn’t he inside?

Like a drunk, Mat rolled his head around, his tongue lolling in his mouth. It was like…someone had smashed him in the chops with a steel crowbar.

Like a drunk, he quickly sobered up when he realised he couldn’t move. An inch. Anywhere.

The guy had tied him to a chair.

…

****!

Staring at the contents on the table, all Mat could see was the stone flower Andrea had given him. If his suspicions were correct, and so far all signs were pointing to ‘yes’, this guy would probably recognise such a thing. Wriggling his foot, Mat tried to pry it free of the ropes.

He needed backup, bad. And for that, he needed a free limb.

Saph'd had a bit of time to sober up... He'd knocked the kid on the noggin a little harder than he'd first thought, and he'd taken nearly an hour and a half to wake up. That put him at a low state of tipsy by the time he heard the young man waking up.

"Mornin sunshine... Have a good nap?" He spit at the ground next to him, still trying to get the taste of cheep whiskey from his breath. The stuff had way of lingering. Unpleasant. He was holding a small bag in his hand with a few pills with an M embossed into them... He'd seen the pills before. They were unimportant to him, to be honest. He set them down, and picked up the stone rose... His hand was visibly shaking as he clutched it, and reached up a hand to his face, wiping it. He gripped the rose close to his chest as he grabbed another chair, pulling it right up to Matt's side and sitting backwards in it.

"Don't struggle, I know how to tie my knots... Now. You and I got a little bit to talk about... And don't you dare f^$#ing scream or they will never find all of you." He held the rose up to the man's face. "This... I wanna know where you got this. If you lie. I'll kill you." As if the reinforce this, he took his other hand and held it to Matt's head like a gun, and cocked back the proverbial 'hammer'. "Talk fast, kid. If you're honest and I like what I hear you might just make it out of this alley alive."

Mat watched as the guy held the flower, clutching it like some sick, obsessive stalker, trying to sniff a scent of the one he was pursuing. Despite the rising fear that was growing in Mat’s gut, he was still iron-clad convinced that there was no way he would betray Andrea. Not to this sicko.

He felt the guy press his fingers into his forehead, miming a gun. He told him to stop struggling, but all Mat could think was to get a foot free, no matter what. To get it free, and to summon as much of his strength into the concrete beneath his feet as possible.

So he kept trying to desperately wrench the limb from the rope.

“I made it. What the f*** does that matter to you?”

“I made it. What the f*** does that matter to you?”

"F@#%@#ING LIAR" His hand reached way back, and found it's way solidly across the bound man's face in a horrendously strong back hand. It was enough to rock the chair on it's feet, and also enough to make one of the leg ties slip a little. Saph dropped the ground, and grabbed the man's face, squeezing it as if it would somehow pop. "What did you do, huh?! Did you wait outside the flower shop for her to come out? Did you see her and think 'she looks like she couldn't hurt a fly. I could do what ever I want to her' HUH?! YOU F#%KING SCUMBAG I WILL NOT BE LIED TO! He then started shaking him again. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?! WHERE IS SHE?"

Needless to say, he was a little upset. He didn't even notice when he crushed the flower beneath his foot. He wanted to put every ounce of energy he'd collected today into this guy's head and call it done... God, it would feel so good... But no... If he had any chance of saving Andrea, it was here, in this man. He just needed to get it out. No matter the cost.

This guy…had snapped. He’d gone completely off his rocker. He wasn’t just some jealous ex-boyfriend. He was paranoid beyond belief. Mat’s vision swam from the slap he had received. It had felt more like a cricket bat than a hand. Before he could regain his senses, the man had him on the ground, shaking him ragged. Mat could feel himself being thrust into the ground, again and again, bruising his ribs. The drunk started squeezing Mat’s face, like it was a melon. Clenching his teeth together, Mat half expected his skull to pop like a balloon.

Through the pain and the man’s incoherent screaming, Mat became vaguely aware that his foot had come loose. Through the violent shaking, the rope had begun to slip. As he pulled to free the limb, his mind foggy, Mat felt a familiar tug from the concrete underneath him.

The man had been slamming Mat into the ground. Unbeknownst to him, he had been transferring Mat’s mental energy directly into the concrete.

The drunk had been doing Mat’s work for him.

Flapping his foot against the ground, as hard as he could, Mat began to reel his mind together, to reach out and take hold of his power. His ragged breath burning his throat, spit blowing on the gritty surface of concrete, Mat let out a pained cry, slamming his foot onto the ground one last time.

“F*** YOU!!!”

Bringing the image to mind, Mat felt the ground beside him begin to stir. Two stone hands, twice the width of an average man's, grew from the ground. Giant concrete hands wrapped around the man’s neck. The ground stirred again, the head and torso of the golem coming up to meet with the arms. The golem’s face was a twisted mockery of a face, distorted into a frozen scream of rage. With a scream that matched the golem’s stone expression, Mat commanded the hands to squeeze.

He’d choke this prick to death if he had to.

Saph barely caught sight of the hands as they wrapped around his neck... So that was how it was, huh? This little son of a B@#% was gonna try and kill him. The hands squeezed, and his glare turned into a grimace. The golem would squeeze one side, and nothing would happen- it would he as if it's fingers just couldn't sink in... The other side had no problem. Saph made a choking sound, as he smacked his would be killer's head into the ground even harder than before.

He needed more energy... This thing was really gonna kill him if he didn't... But it was also helping him; the strength of it's squeezing on the right side was compounding and growing in him; he could feel it... just... a little more... His head felt light for a moment as the half choke started to affect him... Almost... THERE!

CRRRRRACK! The left hand of the golem was shattered as if hit by a wrecking ball. Saph pulled himself free of the one remaining hand, and pulled the golem maker off of the ground, staring at him.

"You'll pay for that... Now tell me where she is. I need to know, damnit... I need to. I have to save her..."