It was quiet outside, which was perhaps a small blessing, given all that had happened. Chase grew comfortable in his hideout in the bush—though he kept his knees hugged to his chest, he lay down, his back growing sore from sitting, his bony rump going numb against the hard-packed dirt. How long would he stay there? As long as necessary—until Locke forgot—and, seeing as it was improbably Locke would forget, it would seem that Chase would be in the bush forever, except to get food and go to the bathroom. Chase could not run, but he would hide.

Perhaps it was the tall hedges that sent the world into silence… the leaves deadened the sound, and so Chase heard neither the approach of his mother, nor his friend. He laid on the sand, hand towel still pressed firmly against the nose that was only trickling blood now (and partially covering his tearful eyes) as he lay there.

Time trickled on slowly, minutes melting closer and closer to an hour. After an undetermined amount of time, a noise met Chases’ ears, which perked up. The child rose into a sitting position, still hidden by the bush, ears straining. Footsteps. There was then a flicker of motion, and the child recoiled deeper into the shadows.

>> "Chase?...”

Gemma… Chase’s mind responded, his hushed sobs falling silent. He was afraid of his mother, at this point in time—he’d done something bad, and refused to speak up. She’d send him away—she’d give him back—nobody wanted a bad child like Chase.

>> “Chase, honey, it's me. Are you there?..."

Gemma strode into view, her gaze sweeping down the walkway in search of her child. Chases’ shoulders tightened, and he scarcely let out a breath as he watch his mother walk by, gaze roving searchingly. It would have been the right thing to do, to answer, but Chase couldn’t bring himself to speak-up. He was too scared. Gemma would send him back, Locke hated him, Jorge would hate him. He messed up. Chase’s mind reeled in fear—he was a bad, horrible, monstrous mutant. He didn’t deserve to stay at Xavier’s.

All the turning thoughts made the child hiccup back a sob, a touch too loud. It might have given him away. Realizing the error of his ways, Chase made a plea, whether or not Gemma could see or even hear him all that well.

“P-p-pleeease don’t send me back, M-mama,” Chase whined.

At first the whole maze was eerily quiet. Then, as she walked along, she finally heard the sobbing that made her heart jump.

>>“P-p-pleeease don’t send me back, M-mama,”

Turning towards the voice Gemma knelt down and peered into the bushes, pulling some branches aside.

"It's okay baby" she said softly, reaching in to coax Chase out of his hiding place "Of course I am not sending you back. You are my boy and I love you, you know that right? C'me here."

Come to Mama.

The shifter cringed as Gemma honed-in on him and knelt down by the bushes, pushing the branches aside to expose a very small, and very scared looking shifter child. Chase ducked his head abashedly, pressing his nose into washcloth, and his face into his knees, as Gemma reached into his alcove to pry him out.

A small part of Chase wondered—no, hoped—that Gemma didn’t know what had happened. But obviously, is she was there, looking for him, now, she knew that something had happened. Even Chase knew that. The child didn’t resist his mothers’ attempts to get him out of his hiding place, but he didn’t unfold himself. Gemma hugged him to her, and Chase sniffled, attempting to hiccup back a sob without avail.

The child gave into his tears again, snuggling against his mother as the free, washcloth-free hand knitted into his mother’s shirt.

“I’m a bad person, Mommy,” Chase whined, refusing to lift his gaze. He hiccupped a few times as he attempted to speak, but when the words stammered out incoherently, he simply reiterated what he’d just said, “A really bad person.”

>>“I’m a bad person, Mommy. A really bad person.”

Gemma sat back onto the ground and held Chase close, rocking slowly back and forth. The worst was over, he was found.

"You are not a bad person, Chase." she murmmured, kissing the top of his head "Don't ever let anyone say any different. Making a mistake does not make you a bad person."

She held him like she did her own children, and gave him time to cry himself out. It felt almost safe in the maze, away from the eyes of other students.

Chase cuddled against his mother, sniffling as she kissed the crown of his head and murmured reassurances.

“Momma, I made a really bad mistake,” Chase corrected, hiccupping, “They’re going to have to send me away.”

The nine-year-old was fastened onto his mother’s arm, as if clinging for dear life as he explained what happened, “I-I-I was tr-trying to help L-Locke and he said that someone sent him these pictures, and that they didn’t know who… and I-I could know who if I just t-touched the pictures.”

Chase tried to get more breath into his lungs before continuing, “And the lady I turned into was bad and scary, and she wanted to hurt Locke, Momma. She wanted Locke dead. And so… and so… s-since I was her…”

Chase started crying with more enthusiasm once again, “They’re going to make you send me back,” he said between sobs, “I made a bad mistake. And Locke will hate me now.”

>>“Momma, I made a really bad mistake. They’re going to have to send me away.”

She kept holding Chase, giving him time to cry his heart out. He was doing a thorough job of that too, so she just held him and hummed quietly, letting the tears and the words flow.

>>“I-I-I was tr-trying to help L-Locke and he said that someone sent him these pictures, and that they didn’t know who… and I-I could know who if I just t-touched the pictures. And the lady I turned into was bad and scary, and she wanted to hurt Locke, Momma. She wanted Locke dead. And so… and so… s-since I was her…”

"It wasn't you" Gemma murmured, holding him. That was a part of his powers that he needed to learn to control. It was not something a child so young should have to deal with, but the alternative was even worse. Taking on people's appearance was one thing; adult personalities were another.

>>"They’re going to make you send me back... I made a bad mistake. And Locke will hate me now.”

"No one will send you back" she said, more clearly this time "You belong to me, and no one is taking you anywhere, okay? It wasn't your fault. And Locke doesn't hate you. He was worried about you. He helped me find you." she said, kissing the top of his head again "Everything is going to be fine."

Even through of all of Chases’ tears, Gemma was solid.

>> "It wasn't you."

“But it was,” Chase whined. That was the complexity of the matter—Gemma was right, in the sense that Chase hadn’t been himself. He’d been Renee. But that didn’t change the fact that he’d been Renee. The greatest downfall (and perhaps the greatest strength of Chase’s power), was that he became the other person in form and thought. Sure, “Renee” had been dominant, but she was still Chase and Chase had been her, and the shifter was just frightened.

>> "No one will send you back. You belong to me, and no one is taking you anywhere, okay? It wasn't your fault. And Locke doesn't hate you. He was worried about you. He helped me find you. Everything is going to be fine."

“He helped you find me?” Chase echoed quietly, surveying his mother’s expression with a skepticism in his gaze. If Locke helped her find Chase, then he’d be here, right, “Where is he?”

>>“He helped you find me?... Where is he?”

"He's inside" Gemma answered (and she hoped she was right) "he is waiting for us. He wanted to make sure you are okay."

Hugging Chase close, she stood up. She knew he was a big boy who did not want to be carried, but maybe under special circumstances, they could make an exception. She just did not feel like letting him go.

"Let's go get something warm for you to drink, okay?" she murmured, looking at him "You know you are safe with me. You can stay as close as you like."

Chase nodded as Gemma explained where Locke was, and how he had helped find the child. The nine-year-old shivered and dropped his gaze as Gemma suggested they go get something warm to drink. He nodded and gave a mild, “That sounds good.”

The two unfolded themselves and got to their feet, and Chase tucked himself under his mother’s arm, his bony arm looping itself around her waist, so that he could walk beside her but still be in-contact with her. Chase still secretly feared the repercussions of what he’d done.