Never Be Enough

by Dreaming-Of-A-Nightmare

Because I have no reason to cry, right? I had my time with him. He loved me, and I him. And that's enough, isn't it? .:. Halex. And yes, that is Hank/Alex. This is a smutty-angsty-fluffy, lengthy, CHARACTER DEATH oneshot. A challenge from Flowermasters.

A/N: flowermasters prompted me with Halex and character death. SO HERE I GO WITH THE GAY ANGST AGAIN, BUT THIS TIME WITH HANK AND ALEX, AWWW YEAHH.

(This is also a bit of a challenge; she's also going Halex character death, but she's killing off Alex and I'm killing off Hank. Good times, good times… But not really. I will weep while writing this. Damn you, Hannah, and your love for killing characters –cough,likeCharles,cough– that I love.)

And I will mention Scott in here because, yes, while the timelines are all fucked up in the movies, it does say on both Wikipedia and the First Class movie website that Alex is the Alex I originally thought he was: Scott's brother.

Also: there is a small hint of Charles/Erik in this. Because I couldn't resist.

---

I walk into the lounge room, finding everyone else already there. Darwin said I should come, that I shouldn't isolate myself like I did in prison, but it's a little difficult. Everyone here is a stranger to me. They're all cool people, but they are strangers. I don't even know them. They're nice and stuff, and they're mutants like me, which is a comfort, but they're still strangers.

And I really don't want to hurt any of them. Xavier knows; he read my mind, or maybe he didn't have to, but he knows. He knows that I preferred solitary confinement because I was separated from my brother and could stand anyone else, but a deeper reason is I know how dangerous I am, how destructive, and I don't want to hurt or kill or maim or burn anyone because of an accident.

But still, here I am, wandering in with my hands in my jacket pockets as everyone gathers 'round a table with cola and Oreos from the bar and pantry and mini-fridge in the room. I glance out the two large windows in here; once faces the giant golf ball (some sort of transmitter, I guess), and the other a courtyard with a statue.

"There you are, man! Glad you decided to hang with us," Darwin says, and he claps me on the shoulder, shaking lightly, before letting go. I give him a nod and pick an armchair near Sean. I catch Hank watching me before lowering his eyes when I glance his way. What's his deal?

"All right, so, I was wondering… what can all of you do? Your mutant abilities, I mean," Raven says after a round of mindless chatter about our likes and dislikes and lives before we accepted Xavier's and Lehnsherr's offer. "I thought it would be cool if we made gave ourselves nicknames because of it. We're government agents, now; we need code names like in the movies. I want to be called Mystique," she says with a grin.

"Damn, I wanted to be called Mystique!" Sean says jokingly, and Raven shakes her head.

"Too bad, I called it; besides…" And suddenly, she shifts, her skin flickering, and there are two Seans, making the real Sean jump backward and many of us do a double-take. "I am way more mysterious than you." And her voice is low, sounding like a more serious version of him, and she smirks as she reverts back to her blonde self. Sean applauds, and as everyone else starts to, I do, too, but I can't help thinking of all the awful, devious things she could do with a talent like that.

We go down the list, all of us saying names and showing off our powers. Darwin can change his body to almost anything. It's really cool, actually; gills or scales or whatever he wants to protect him or help him live in whatever conditions are around him.

Angel's like a spitfire dragonfly, her four wings beating separately and acid coming from her phlegm. "That's disgusting," I groan half-jokingly when she displays her acid-firing part of her mutation. I think crudely for a second how she was found at a stripper joint, and I just hope that, unlike my accidents when I'm angry or something, she has never accidentally deep-throated a guy and burned his parts off or something. I shudder and move on when Hank is mentioned.

"Yeah, Hank, what about you? You're a brain, but you're already calling that machine –" Raven gestures out one of the windows "– Cerebro, so you can't be something like that. So what do you think will fit?"

"How about 'Bigfoot?'" I snort teasingly, because I don't mean to pick on him, not really; I think his feet are handy – pun intended, 'cause hey, that's pretty funny, okay? – and kind of awesome. I always wanted to have a more practical mutation, like a second set of arms on my torso or something. It would make things a lot easier for handling stuff, and multi-tasking. And I can't help but think of how it could save my life to have hands on my feet, maybe stopping my fall or something.

But Hank doesn't take it like a joke. It looks like it really hurts him, like I just touched on his largest insecurity, and I feel guilty as I slowly lower my drink from my lips. Raven comes to his rescue (I think she likes him; pff, figures), saying, "Well, you know what they say about guys who have big feet; and, um, yours are kinda small."

And yeah, she just made a penis joke, didn't she? Fuck her, because now I'm thinking of Hank's dick and wondering if it really is longer than mine or something, which is equal parts disturbing and kind of hot, so I shut off my brain, fidgeting in my seat, and look away. It's not a normal thing to think, especially not about someone who's going to wind up being my friend or comrade or whatever. I blame the blonde beside me.

When it's my turn, though, I don't want to move. I shake my head. "Nah, I can't do it. Not in here." I could set the whole place on fire and one of them would definitely die. And I can't take that kind of heat, either kind, not when I've already seen it happen a few times over, and it terrifies me. I steel my face and try not to look at them.

But they all gang up on me. They all start in on it bit by bit.

"What about out there?"

"Yeah, can you do it out there?"

"Come on, Alex, show us!"

"Yeah, Alex!"

"Alex, Alex, Alex…!"

Sean is enthusiastic about it, grinning at me, and Darwin is supportive (he's the one who started the chanting), and Raven is grinning at me, and Angel is winking.

Hank, thank God, is the only one who isn't forcing me into it. He's glancing over at me curiously, and there's something in his eyes that respects me for wanting to keep my powers to myself. He shakes his head as if to say, "You don't have to, so don't listen to them."

But with a grunt, I stand from my seat and start to move toward the courtyard window, the glass shattered from Sean – Banshee, rather – and his powerful sonic sound waves. I think he meant to break our drinking glasses, but this works just as well.

I step out and stand off to the side, my adrenaline racing with dread and fear and yet, also nonchalance. So they wanna see what I can do? Fine, I'll show them. They just better keep out of the way; I don't want a single one of them to get so much as a scratch. They really are cool people, and now they feel like less of strangers. I think I like them, and I can't remember feeling any sort of attachment to anyone since Scott, my brother.

I roll my shoulders and look at the statue. It'll be my focal point. I clap my hands once in front of me, feeling the power surge through me, waiting to be released. I glance at them, about to go, but they're all leaning over the ledge of the used-to-be-window, peering at me. I scowl at them and shout, "Get back!"

They do… for all of five seconds. Then, with Sean in the lead, they all peer out at me again.

"I said, 'get back'!" I repeat, but this time, they don't even move. I snort and shake my head. I warned them, okay? I warned them. It's not my fault if they want to be stupid about this. Still, I try to take a step forward to hurl my gift at the statue and not them. "Whatever."

I feel the power building, circulating through my torso, ripping like a chilling heat. I rotate my hips, rocking my shoulders, letting the rings of plasma circle me like deadly hoola-hoops. They fly out in a flash of infa-red like laser boomerangs and scorch sides of the buildings around is, and they completely slice the statue in half, worse than the burn on its head from Angel's acid-spit, and then there's fine and winking embers everywhere.

They cheer and clap for me, impressed as much as they would be with the finale of a fireworks display. I grunt and return to the room, feeling some pats on my back and shoulders as I walk by to grab my bottle of soda and take a swig at it.

I glance over my shoulder, and Hank is looking at me oddly. Everyone else starts to come up with names for me, Raven in the lead, taking about how I could be 'Destructo' or 'Red Lightning' or 'Volcano' or something having to do with evil hoola dancers. I shrug it off and look back to Hank, who is coming to stand in front of me.

"That's quite the gift," he says softly. "It's dangerous, but very unique, something I would like to study the nature of sometime; there might be a way to control it, I think?"

Hank looks down for a second, probably at his feet hidden in his shoes (and wouldn't that hurt and cramp up to have hands inside socks and shoes all day?), and then back up at my eyes. His own are really stunning, actually; a nice, rich blue, better than my blue-grey ones, and enlarged from his nerdy (but kinda endearing) glasses. His eyebrows have a nice, thick shape, and it distracts me as I try to think of how he wants me to respond to that.

I open my mouth once, close it, take a drink, and after a swallow, I decide to say: "Well, thanks, then. I hate it, probably as much as you hate yours sometimes, but I think it'd be great to get it under control." I pause, looking at him suspiciously. I hate it when people fuck with me, or lie. I need to be sure. "You could really do it?"

"I think so, yeah," he says with a nod, and a relieved smile. "As long as you don't mind practicing it in front of me and offering a DNA sample so I can figure it out and develop something to help you," and Hank is really smiling now, clearly excited about scientific things. He blushes a bit, smile dropping, as he adds, "If that's not too personal for you, I mean. I-I'm not trying to be forward."

"I got it!" Raven shouts, grabbing me and turning me toward her and Sean before I can reply to Hank. "You can be Havok, with a K, because it's so badass-sounding and true, and a little foreign and mysterious."

"I helped her come up with it," Sean puts in, and Darwin and Angel smile at me.

"And we voted on it. So sorry, cool cat, but you're Havok now whether you like it or not," Angel laughs.

I shrug, not really caring. "Yeah, sure. 'Havok.' That's cool. Thanks, I guess." And I turn away from them, and give Hank a firm nod, indirectly answering him, telling him that I don't mind. It doesn't matter to me one way or another; I just want a way to be less… hazardous.

XXX

"I killed him. Maybe I didn't do it on purpose, but it's still my fault. My powers were used against him, and he died because of it," I say with a shaky voice while everyone crowds around one another in the destroyed lounge room, Shaw and his gang already having come and go, killing all of the CIA agents, taking Angel, and… Darwin…

Raven touches my back with her hand, patting gently over my jacket. "Hey, no, don't talk like that, Hav–"

"Don't call me that!" I shout, cutting her off, standing up. "Havok just tried to be a hero, Havok just tried to help Darwin get Angel back, and Havok is the one who killed one and lost the other! So don't you dare call me by his name."

Sean looks up from my other side worriedly, and he tugs on my sleeve nearest him. "Dude, hey, calm down, we'll figure this out, and when Charles and Erik get back, we can talk to them about what to do…" the redhead tries, and our group feels so incredibly small, now, with two of us gone to different fates.

I cringe and cradle my head in my hands, dropping back down into my seat and shuddering, because this is exactly what I didn't want to have happen!

Hank brings me out of my state with a firm statement of fact, or at least something he makes sound like a fact. "We hadn't known what Shaw's abilities were. We didn't know that he can absorb any sort of energy, kinetic included. He could have done it to any of us, and Darwin or any one of us could have died in another way since all three of those guys were incredibly powerful. So don't even try to pity or blame yourself, Alex. You didn't know, and neither did we." He pauses, and I lift my head to peer at him. He looks directly at me as he says softly, "I could've– I mean, I would have done the same thing, so don't stress over it too much."

"Yeah, what Hank said," Sean agrees, patting me on the back with a clapping sound as his hand strikes the leather. "It wasn't you, man. That Shaw guy killed Darwin, not you. We might've not seen all of it happen, but we know it wasn't you."

I shake my head, but I don't dispute it. I just sit there, stewing in the same silence as everyone else.

"We should try to get some sleep. Erik and Charles should be coming back tomorrow afternoon, and… And I want to be out there waiting for them when they do without falling asleep where I stand," Raven pipes up after a long while, her voice calm in that frightened way, if that makes any sort of sense. She's still shaking, and Sean is oddly glued to my side.

"I agree; sleep would do a lot of good. So… goodnight, everyone," Hank murmurs, and he stands, head bowed, and starts to leave. Raven and Sean follow, headed for what should be left of their rooms in the base.

I can't move. I'm stuck, my body humming with leftover adrenaline, and I keep replaying the look Darwin gave me, his hand reaching out to me, as he tried to contain the explosion inside him, preserve his body – organs and all – and failing as he combusted right before my eyes with a flash of light, an odd acceptance of fate on his face before he went.

I squeeze my eyes shut and heave a shaky inhale and exhale, trying to fight tears, because I haven't cried in years and I don't plan on crying now.

"…Alex?"

It's Hank's voice. He came back, presumably when I didn't get up and follow his lead like everyone else had. He cares too much about people; he should really learn to care about himself instead. That's what I try to do. Because I know I'm just going to wind up hurting the people who get too close to me; Darwin is proof. Indirect or not, I don't care, I killed him. Shaw helped, but I know how to take responsibility no matter what any of them say.

"Yeah? What is it, Mr. Scientist?" I huff, raising my head as I comb back my hair, trying to look at him with a blank facial expression that belies nothing.

"Come on, it's time for bed. You need your sleep, too. Studies show –"

"I don't care what they studies show, Sasquatch. Okay? I… I can't sleep yet. Even if I go to my room, I won't sleep," I tell him, and he knows exactly why.

He sighs, sits down in front of me by sitting on the table we had to turn back over again, and he peers into my eyes after a moment, and it makes my breath catch in my throat, because the way he's looking at me is kind of messed up, because it's too personal.

His voice is oddly calm as he says quietly, "Alex. Quit deflecting by calling me names, and quit feeling sorry for yourself. Shaw… He killed Darwin, all right? And after a day like today, we all will be able to sleep; excitement drains the body whether we feel it or not. So…" He starts to lose his confidence, and he inhales sharply, "So… get up, and let's get you to bed."

I snort, my own way of brushing him off, but I get up and tag along anyway. "Why're you… I mean, why do you even care, Hank?" I say, and he stops walking in the disturbingly empty hallway to face me again. His cheeks are colored, and he starts to fidget where he stands.

"Well, uh. I mean. You need help like the rest of us, too, Alex, even if you're the tough guy who came from out of prison. And I hate not seeing people get the help they need. B-besides, we're friends, aren't we? All of us are. Mutant solidarity. We understand one another because we're all… different."

He sounds so hurt by the word. Does he really care that much how "abnormal" he is? I think he's fine. I mean, why change anything? He's a fucking super-genius and has those cool ape-feet. Why be down on all that?

"Yeah, okay, I'll go there with you. But still, Hank. You… I mean, you're not really like anyone else I've ever met, and it kind if weirds me out," I tell him, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jacket.

He frowns and looks hurt, turning away. "Thanks, Alex, for just confirming how little of me you think." And he starts to cut down another direction, leaving me alone.

What he Hell? What did I say?

"Hey, wait! Wait up!" I holler after him, jobbing a bit to keep up with his speedy strides on those impossibly long legs of his. I touch his shoulder and turn him around, an offended scowl on my face. "What the fuck, man? I didn't mean it that way! What, you thought I was making fun of your feet or your brain again or something? 'Cause I wasn't! I meant… Fuck." And I cut myself off, not sure what to say. He's just… nice to me, I dunno. Sean's like my instant friend, and Raven is cool, and Darwin was a pal (I feel my throat close up), but Hank…

"Then what did you mean?" he wonders, adjusting his glasses and running a hand through the side of his hair, ruffling the brown locks until pieces of it stick up, and I lick my lips, forcing my gaze away, because part of me wants to reach out and smooth his hair back down for him, and I almost want to laugh at myself.

"Er, well. Uh. I just meant that you're… a good guy, Hank. I'm not used to people actually make me want to like them and hang around them and talk to them and stuff. Besides my brother, that is. Before he and I got split up." That, and the fact that I feel oddly attracted to him, and that freaks me out because I don't remember thinking, 'Oh, I like guys, so I must be gay,' at any point in my life. But Hank is something else.

"You were separated from your brother?" Hank says lowly, gently. "I'm sorry, Alex. If he were a mutant, we might've been able to find him before Cerebro got destroyed."

That just makes even more pain stab my chest. I swallow and look away, starting to walk again. "N-no, it's cool, man. You didn't know. And you made that thing, right? So you can always build another one somewhere else. I'm sure we can find a way how to. –Thanks for the thought, though."

"Sure," he says, and his voice is still soft. I really like the sound of his voice, but I stop that thought right there, because I shouldn't be thinking about this sort of shit when we just lost two people, there are dead bodies around the corner, and I just feel way too vulnerable right now. But I guess, in the most messed up of times, that's when you need other people the most.

"Um, anyway, I'm gonna go to bed. Thanks, Hank. For… for all stuff you said before, and just now. It means a lot; you have no idea," I tell him, and I give him another one of my nods.

But Hank doesn't move just yet. Instead, he looks at me oddly, and then he says, "If you ever need anything, Alex, you can come to me, all right? I'll t-try to… to be there for you," and he looks embarrassed, and then he's turning and leaving again, this time on better terms.

And somehow, I feel a smile on the edges of my lips, and I quickly clear my throat and wipe it because then I'm thinking of the attack all over again and I'm suddenly tired beyond all reason, and I turn and slip into my room, the power out in it, and I drop onto the bed and hide my face until I fall asleep, still in my day-clothes.

XXX

I purposely sit closer to Sean than Hank the next day, leaving Raven to fill the gap, because I think he likes her, but he just deals with me, and despite last night, I know he'd rather be near her. So I shut up and take a seat, and the sun is too bright, so Sean takes out his sunglasses and puts them on, and it's too hot with the sun for my jacket, but I keep it on anyhow. It's my only layer of protection. From what, I don't know, but that's how I feel.

When the car pulls up, Xavier races out and hugs his adopted sister, repeating over and over, "Are you all right? Are all of you all right?"

They were filled in on the situation, I bet, but we remind him anyway what happened. We remind them that Shaw killed Darin – and I'm the one to say it, to finalize that it wasn't my fault, just so I hear it out loud – and when it comes down to it (with Lehnsherr and Xavier stepping aside for a second to talk to each other like a married couple discussing what to do with their children, namely us), Hank brings up how we have nowhere to go to train and prepare for another attack.

I resist the urge to slide to sit closer to Hank on the cement bench while Xavier explains that we can go to his house since it's pretty big and has lots of equipment and extra stuff to use to practice, to hone our gifts. I'm all for it. I want to train to get my powers in check, under control, making it so that nothing like what happened to Darwin and dozens others in my life happens again.

On the ride there, Hank and I are shoved to the back, Sean between us, asleep. Xavier drives with Lehnsherr in the front passenger seat, and Agent McTaggert and Raven chill in the middle seats, chatting like the two girls they are, Raven telling the auburn-haired woman about all the pretty things at the house.

Hank tries to strike up conversation with me to ease the tension. "So, uh. Alex. What are you thinking about right now?"

"How I would kill for some music to drown out their voices," I mutter, jerking a thumb in their girls' direction as I look to my right at him. He stifles a laugh.

"They are very talkative today. Raven is especially excited; she must miss being home," Hank remarks. He shakes his head. "I don't miss being home."

"And I don't have one aside from prison, so I'm right there with you," I remark, and I glance at Sean, still passed out between us, his mouth partially open. I pat his knee and gesture at him with my head. "And Seany-boy here didn't seem too happy about the idea of going home, either. I guess a mutant's household is never very nice, huh? Unless you have missing parents, like Mr. Mind-Reader seemed to."

"True enough," Hank agrees. He then launches into a ramble, not quite looking at me. "Most parents aren't very accepting of things they don't understand, such as homosexual children or, in this case, mutant children. It's a sore predicament. My parents thought me deformed when I was born because of my feet, and they looked into several surgical doctors to see if they could make me feet look normal. It was all too risky, of course, so my parents taught me to hide it while I went through school, skipping grades and breezing through it."

"I didn't ask for your life history, man, but I guess I understand. I mean, I was orphaned, and my brother, too, obviously, but… still. I can see how that would happen. Sorry," I add, and he tints pink and looks away. What, I'm not allowed to feel for him? That situation sounds like it sucked. I want him to know that I get it.

When we pull up the house, for a second, I think it's the wrong place, because it's not a house. It's not a house at all. It's a mansion, a fucking castle in New York, and it's big and beautiful and goddamn, Xavier and Raven grew up here? Lucky bastards…

Erik shorts loudly. "Honestly, Charles, I don't know how you survived, living in such hardship," he jokes sarcastically, turning his gaze on the man beside him. I smirk, because that was something along the lines of what I was thinking of saying.

Raven leads us inside, and there's a general tour of all of the main parts in the forefront of the castle, and Charles goes about assigning us rooms on the second floor, all of them within the first left or right of the top of the stairs to keep things simple and prevent us from getting too lost.

My room is right between Hank's and Sean's. I pretend not to notice that there's a door, locked form the other side, that could lead me into Hank's room, and another that locks from my side that can lead into Sean's. I catch myself staring at Hank's door almost every night, so sorely tempted to go up to it and knock, asking permission to enter. He said I could come to him for help, and I desperately want to have something that needs helping just so I have an excuse.

I shut out all reasons floating around in my head as to why I want an excuse to go into his room.

Sean knocks on my side-door one night, and I let him in from his room. He has a deck of cards in his hand, and he says that he can't sleep yet despite our training today, and was bored, and wanted to know if I'd play a round of Blackjack with him, or even something like Crazy Eights. I chuckle and agree to it, and we spend a good hour and a half playing cards.

But after Sean leaves, I feel like it's okay to try and knock on the side-door leading to Hank's, because Sean just did it, right? So I knock.

…And then I knock again.

And again, and I start to think that he isn't even there.

So I leave my room, take a few steps down the hall, and sure enough, his door is open and it's dark in there, and as I step inside, there's no body in the bed or in the room at all.

And then it clicks: he must be in the lab that Charles made for him.

So I toe down the hall, slide down the banister of the stairs, hopping off at the end, and make my way through the corridors in the opposite direction of the kitchen until I find the big double-doors.

Yup, and there he is. He took a few measurements from my initial fiery disaster in the nuclear bunker from the other say to calculate some stuff, and he asked for my measurements, and that was an awkward moment, because Hank has to stand and work around me with a take measurer like a tailor.

So when I find him working on some sort of circular, wiry, metal plate, I know it's for me. I can just tell. Plus, there's a vest nearby with a hole in the chest, so I assume that that's for me, too.

"Heya, Bozo," I greet, grabbing a chair and sitting in it as I scoot near where Hank is bent over the device. "What are you doing up so late?"

"I could ask you the same thing," he jokes, and he glances up shyly at me for a moment before returning to his work, his jaw noticeably tensing, even though he has been working with his lips pursed and his tongue flicking out to lick them just a moment ago. He goes on as he straights up and examines the piece in his hands, "So why are you up, Alex?"

I shrug. "Dunno. Came to see you. Can't I get bored and wander the house at night?"

"I suppose you can," he chuckles a tad breathlessly, and he sets down the plate and gestures to it. "I'll have it ready tomorrow. You can use it and see how it works, and if it can help the way I intend it to."

"I'm sure it will. I mean, pretty much all your stuff works, Hank. I trust you with this shit," I say with a lopsided smile, and he returns it with one of his own unsure ones.

"Well, thanks for that," he says genuinely, and he adverts his gaze again. "So, um. Did you have something you wanted to say, or…?" he offers, leaving it open for me. "Because, if not, I do want to work; this needs to be finished tonight."

"Oh." I try to keep out the disappointment in my tone. "Of course. I, er. No, I didn't have anything to say." And I start to set up out of my chair and shove it aside.

I turn and talk two steps before I frown at myself. Why am I being such a wuss? What, because Hank is a guy and not a girl, and because my social skills are seriously lacking from years in prison? Fuck that, I'm no coward, and I don't beat things around the bush. I pivot on my heel, spinning around, and take a couple steps back toward Hank, my hands in the pockets of my lounge pants.

"…On second thought, there is something," I say, hovering over the nerdy guy.

"Oh?" he asks, raising his eyebrows and peering up at me, and God, he really is hot. Especially while he's peering up at me above his spectacles and through his lashes, his eyes so much bluer than mine.

"Yeah," I replies, leaning down and bracing one hand from my pocket onto the table in front of him, and the other gripping the back of his chair. Panic flickers over his face, mingled with surprise and curiosity. But even more than those things, there is a blush as bright as day dusting across his nose and spreading on is cheeks.

Hank doesn't move, like a deer caught in the headlights. But he's mostly calm, expectant. So I hold my breath to gather my courage and I lean down and press my lips to his, nosing his face to lift his jaw to meet my mouth easier as I shape my lips over his.

I don't know how Hank feels about me, but he likes me enough to kiss back, his hands dropping his tools and his body turning in his swivel chair to try and match me, all while attempting to breathe through his nose and keep out lips locked.

I'm hungry for him, for his taste and his lips, something that's been building deep inside me since I met him coming out to rear its ugly head at me now. I set it free, and it consumes me. I bring my hand from his chair to cup his face, my lips and tongue prying open his mouth, and my fingers weaving into his shaggy, soft hair. Hank whimpers a little, gasping for breath, and grips me around the neck, yanking me down to him. And it's funny, because if we were standing, it'd be different, because he's so damn tall.

We part for air, and I open my eyes to find his fluttering open, a whisper of a whimper escaping his lips at the loss of lip contact. He blinks, ashamed of the sound, but I find it kind of a turn-on, and dive back in. He moans in the back of his throat as I press him forward, his chair sliding back on its wheels to collide with another table perpendicular to the one to my left. I eagerly slide my tongue over his, lapping up his lips and sucking on them, my tongue tickling the roof of his mouth.

It feels so, so good to have Hank this way, my hands gliding over the firmness of his lanky chest and his hands timidly ghosting over my back and waist, but not so far as my hips. I break another kiss to say, "It's fine, you know; let the beast out, right?" And it's a joke, and he doesn't seem to approve of it, but he nods and slowly curves his thumbs over my hipbones, fingers around my sides, one hooking beneath my waistband under my plain white t-shirt.

But it's fair, because I have my hands on his hot skin under his white scrubs and plaid button-up, pleased to find that he doesn't wear tight-fitting undershirts. His breathing is harsh and I can feel his racing heartbeat under my palms. And, I realize, he's been chatty with me because he's been nervous, and he's been nervous because he has a little crush on me.

Well, that's perfect, because I think I have a little crush on him, too. There's a lot of stuff to like about Hank; like I told him before, he's a good guy. But he has a lot of quirks, and while I like to tease him, it's because I love each and every last little quirk he possesses.

"Alex," he says as I start to go for the belt buckle on his pants, "Alex, stop. Please," he whispers.

"Hmm? Why?" I retort, breathing hot on his ear. I kiss his neck, and he shivers and turns his head in toward me, tickled. I smile against his cheek, pulling back to show him my smirk. "Come on, Hank. Don't get me worked up and then tell me to stop."

"But, Alex, this is wrong. I-I like you, but I –" and he nibbles his bottom lip anxiously, his hips shifting where my hands are resting on them, and I can see through his dress slacks that he's half-hard like I am. His voice is small when he admits without looking me in the face, "I don't want to rush things, and really, a sterile laboratory isn't a good place for… for s-sexual deeds." And he shakes his head, blushing at the phrse.

He's so fucking cute.

I chuckle, standing up fully in front of him. I shrug. "All right, Hank, sure. We won't do it in a lab; we wouldn't want to contaminate or break anything, right?" And I smirk more, giddy and high on this feeling and my hormones and racing heart. "But as for rushing things, when is there going to be a better time than right now, while everyone is asleep, and we're both horny?"

"…Don't put it like that…" He mutters, his brows furrowing, and he sighs and stands, trying to tuck his shirt back in, but his hands are shaking and his hard-on his pretty apparent. "I'm serious, Alex. I've – Well, I've admittedly never been in a relationship before. And I don't… There's nothing much to read about h-how two men are supposed to be with one another, and –"

I silence him with a hand over his mouth, and I send him a look. "Really, Hank? You being too busy to ever be with anyone in high school and college – and too young at those ages, too – I can believe, but you would seriously need to read about it? Every couple is different, man. And it's not like I've been with much of anybody, either. So just let your instincts take control. What's that the hippies say? Free love and all that? – Do me a favor, Hank, and roll with that instead."

He reaches up and removes me hand from his mouth, but I make sure not to have him release it. I keep our hands together as I start to lead him out of the lab and back to our rooms, preferably his, since no one really visits him, but Sean comes into my room quite a bit since we're, like, best pals now.

That night, I'm not really sure what happens. It's definitely one of the weirdest things I've done in my life, but since it's with Hank, it's kind of amazing and I don't regret it. There was a lot of touching, a lot of skin, a lot of reassuring (on my part toward Hank), and lot of sweat and some other bodily fluids. There was friction, rubbing, release. There was sliding and grinding. There were hands laced with my hands, hands gripping my ankles for better leverage, and there was a rawness that was painful and pleasurable and addicting. And there were mouths everywhere, on necks and collarbones and ears and jaws and the other's mouth.

I think it was sex, but it could have been 'making love' instead, because all I could think about throughout the longest, most tiring night of my life was how much Hank has come to mean to me in such a short amount of time.

And when I slide out of bed early in the morning, just as the dawn in breaking, the sky a dusty, awakening bluish-purple, I can't help but press a kiss to his forehead, pick his glasses up off the ground and place them on the end table where they were knocked from, and then I gather up my clothes, head into my room through the connecting door, and sleep for another hour until it's time to get up, shower, and start training again.

XXX

"Hmm, sexy," I tease, looking down at the vest and plate, and I don't miss the way Hank's fingers linger on my side where he's zipping me into the vest, explaining how it works and how it'll be part of an entire suit (ones he's making for everyone to suit their powers, he tells me later), and I'm not really listening to his words as much as I'm listening to his voice, the rise and fall in tone, and fuck, I think I'm a little in love with him.

But I hide it pretty well around the others by constantly picking on him, preferring to his feet again when he's training with the professor and mocking him here and there through the week.

Except there is every night that follows the days of chumming around and teasing him. At night, I coax him out of the lab or I slip into his room (he leaves the connecting door unlocked for me and the main entrance locked), and the first thing I do is kiss him senseless.

"Raven doesn't want the serum for normal appearance anymore, and I'm pretty sure I've isolated the right marker in her DNA, but I'm afraid to risk it on myself," he says one night, the last one we have before we have to face Shaw, according to the news we've been getting, the president's address earlier today included.

I push him, hard, until I'm leaning over him on his bed, and he blinks up at me questioningly. "Don't risk it, dumbass! What is it goes wrong? It could speed things up, or make you sick, or kill you. Don't you dare fucking do it. You're fine, okay? You're perfect, everything you are, your smart brain and handsy feet and everything."

He looks almost like he might cry. "…That's what she said to me. Raven. She said that I'm perfect, everything I am, I'm beautiful." He shakes his head, shoving me off, and sitting up. The blankets slide down his nude torso, and he makes sure to keep his naked lower half covered. "I've thought for so many years that I'm ugly and need to hide, and talking to her, thinking she understood and then having her switch things on me while still looking blonde and pretty made her feel like a hypocrite and this feel like the right idea."

"It's not," I say lowly, intensely. I stare directly at him, sitting up as well. "Got it, Hank? It's not. Let her deal with her own issues, and I'll deal with yours. We can share them, okay? I know I'm a bit of a dick during the day –"

"I'll say," Hunk grumbles, fiddling with the blanket in his lap.

I Keep going as if he hadn't said anything. "But I really care about you. I mean. Outside of getting laid, which might be all you think this is."

"That is what I thought," Hank mumbles with a slightly puzzled expression. His gaze shirts to meet mine, and he seems pleasantly baffled. "You mean to say that there's more here?" And he sounds heartbreakingly hopeful, and for once, I feel my heart skip a beat, heat crawling to my face.

I look down, trying to make nothing of it. "Well, yeah, sure. It's not like I'm getting it from anyone else, and I like what I have with you. I'd even take you out on a proper date if it weren't for everyone else, you know?"

He sighs, leaning back to lie down again, staring up at the ceiling. "That much is so true. If I can't deal with my mutation, how could I ever think it possible to go out in public on another man's arm?"

"It sucks, Hank, it really does. The whole world is bullshit, but it isn't your fault that you can't take it, so don't think about it, all right?" I tell him sternly, and he blinks at me. I push on, "But back to the main point: don't take the serum. I'm here for you, and I like you just fine, so you don't need to change anything." I quirk a smile and move to straddle him, making him squeak when our naked bodies are back in contact with one another. I look him dead in the eyes, then glance at his lips, and then back into his eyes as I say, "In fact, I'd really miss seeing your ape-feet everyday. So keep 'em just the way they are, got me?" And then, of course, I kiss him. How can I resist?

XXX

The day feels cold. I wake up and I just have this sick feeling in my gut about today, and the bed around me is chilly because I'm naked and I kicked down all the covers, and Hank is nowhere to be found.

I force myself up, to shower and dress and gather with the others. Hank is already at the airbase, setting things up, a note informs us. And we have these yellow and blue uniforms to wear, which I would deem lame if Hank hadn't made them. (Bah, who am I kidding? I do mock them anyway, aloud to everyone else, because they really are kind of funny, and Sean laughs at my jokes, and it's enough that he gets it.)

When we're at the Blackbird's holding garage, Hank strolls in, looking more confident in himself, and in his suit, he looks almost as good as he does naked. I grin. "Okay, even I gotta admit we all look pretty badass. I take back what I said. The suits suit us. Right, Beast?"

And he blushes a bit, because I just made up the nickname for him recently when I discovered how wild he can be in bed when he lets himself go. It's fucking sexy, but that's not appropriate for the moment, so I just kinda close out my thoughts and pretend to look serious.

Professor X sends me a look, and on the plane, I sit across from him, diagonally, but he keeps glancing at me, and I swallow, because, shit, does he know what Hank and I've been doing lately? Did I let that slip, did he hear or see any of it? 'Cause I really don't want this to get out. I mean, I guess if only the telepath knows it's okay, because he's a good guy and he keeps secrets and he's like my stand-in parent, but still. I just.

There are some things that should remain private. Like my lo- I mean, my sex-life. Yeah, that.

I look at anywhere but the pilot's seat and Prof X's, and mainly look out the windows. It feels like we're being dangled by a string, stuck in place, at one point; there's quite a bit of water. But then where are flashes of land, and then, finally, I can see ships.

Everything passes in a rush. One moment we're flying, the next we're spinning, and then we're crashing. I call out Hank's name, but it's drowned out by the sound of squelching metal churning and twisting and collapsing as it drops, collides, and rolls onto land I can only assume is some beach on Cuba.

The next set of events is even worse.

A thought pops into my head when the teleporter who works for Shaw wrestles with Hank and I: thank God Hank decided not to wear shoes. He looks small and pale where he's got the red guy in a chokehold, and I feel myself falling as the guy releases his tail from around my throat.

"Beast!" I cry out, and one of his feet catch my wrist, and I feel relief and further dread climb up through me, because, shit, what if we fall and break out necks or spines on one of the battleships below and this is the end, felled in the beginning of the battle because of some guy who can teleport?

"If we go, you go," Hank growls in the guy's ear, his glasses slipping down his nose. I hold fast to his ankle, and the next thing I know, there's a bamff sound and we're landing with a thud on a ship.

We tussle, and Hank disappears as he's fighting the teleporter, and suddenly I'm surrounded by sailors, and Angel comes sweeping in, and I yell at everyone to get down because of her acid-spit. And I can't helping thinking how much I hate her for agreeing to go with Shaw and for ditching all of us and for fighting me when, at one point, we knew each other and at some point, we could have been friends or something.

Sean saves me, though. Bless the kid. I dunno where he went after we got the sonic location on Shaw's submarine and the Professor picked up on it, but he's here now and that's all that really matters, 'cause as I smirk and place my hands over my ears, I'm already planning how to get off this hunk of metal.

There's nearly no transition before I'm flying. I follow Sean, I jump off the side, and then I'm soaring over everything as I hold onto one of his hands. I laugh and holler, because, oh my God, who knew flying without a machine around you was this awesome? Better than falling because there's no fear of dying, and it's just me and the wind and Sean to carry me, and it's so cool.

But fucking Angel ruins everything by shooting a hole with her damn flaming phlegm into one half of Sean's glider, and he can barely keep us above water, screaming the way he does, until we're rolling on the sand. My ankle absorbs most of the shock from my fall, and it aches, but I get up somehow, slowly, and scramble to Sean's side to make sure he's okay. I don't want to lose anyone, and Sean is a good friend, and –

I look up, and everything is kind of jumbled. I don't know if it's my head or what I'm seeing, but Angel is coming at us again, so I try my best to fire my rings at her. She burned and broke my circular chest-plate at some point on the ship, but I somehow manage to control it anyhow, cutting up her wings and making her plummet to the ground like the rest of us.

But something isn't right. I turn and glance around, trying to gather what's happening.

The Professor is yelling, "Don't do this, Erik!" and there's something going wrong. That sick feeling rises in my stomach again, and the cold settles in, washing from the top of my head to my spine, and I know it's that dreading, that unyielded fearing, for something about to happen.

I see Raven stop the teleporter – "Azazel," she calls him with Shaw's form and voice – and I don't like the exchange of smiles she and Hank share. But the jealousy is brief, because, soon, I hear yelling – it's the Professor again, sounding like he's dying or something.

And then everything happens very, very quickly, before shifting into something very, very slow and agonizing.

Lehnsherr emerges form the submarine, and Shaw's clearly dead body, held up by metal bracelets, drops. Angel and Azazel and that whirlwind-generating guy all stare and gape. They've lost, and they know it.

I help Sean to his feet and move to step over by Raven and Hank. Discreetly, Hank reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze. I can see the anxiety and anticipation on his face while Lehnsherr starts talking, and I give his hand a returning squeeze where he shits foot to foot between Raven and I, Sean on my other side.

I drop his hand when the metalbender starts to walk around us, headed for the shore, Professor X coming out to meet him halfway, and I think for a passing moment that this guy isn't 'Erik' anymore, he's the code name we gave him instead; an alter-ego, a crueler version of himself, and I almost blame myself and the others for it, because we're the one who told him of 'Magneto,' and now it's coming back to haunt us.

And then, it's like watching a horror movie, but with vivid detail, playing out directly in front of me.

Missiles. A tackle, a fight, with the Professor trying to get off Magneto's helmet and stop him that way, from the inside. A lot of yelling, a lot of tension, a lot of explosions.

I'm rooted to the spot. Hank is frozen, too. Raven looks like she might cry or scream, because I know for a fact that both these man mean a lot to her. But Sean seems to get me; he sends ma look where I'm gazing at everyone and everything, and it's like he and I are brothers, watching our parents fight over an issues well beyond our control.

I look to Hank, and find him taking a few steps forward. He wants to change things, be braver, stop this. I grit my teeth and reach out to catch him by the arm to stop him. "Don't, Hank," I tell him fiercely, my voice gruff and Raven's eyes landing on the pair of us, and Sean, in my peripherals, is looking down and away, cringing in a bit on himself.

"I can't sit idly by and let this transpire!" he says in his sternest, scientist-y voice. His chin is raised and he has that feral look in his eyes again, the one that steels behind his glasses and, in any other situation, would stiffen me right up. But not now, not when his confidence frightens me for what could happen if he wields it like a weapon like I know he's capable of under that nerdy-and-sweet-scientist cover.

He marches out there, and moves to grab Magneto from behind to help out the Professor. Moira appears, though, and my breath catches in my throat as Hank is thrown off from the metalbender's grip on the metal on Hank's suit, and he lands on the ground a few feet away from the Professor. Moira starts shooting; I didn't even see her whip out her gun until I heard the gunshots and saw her extended arm.

Hank struggles to stand, and so does the Professor. Lehnsherr bats away bullets like flies, deflecting them as easily as I could deflect a mini-marshmallow tossed my way.

And then the world stops, and all the quick events slow down like I knew they would.

A scream tears from my throat, ripping its way out of my vocal chords before I even know I'm making the sound. My legs are falling forward in a stumbling run before I even think to move. My eyes prick with tears, hot and painful, before I even wrap my mind around what I'm seeing.

The Professor freezes, Raven clamps her hands over her mouth as she falls to her knees as I pitch forward. Sean looks stunned, face ashen and mouth hanging open.

I'm wrapping my arms around Hank before I have time to think. The Professor is shaking, his voice a tremulous bell ringing in my ears over the rush of emotions tumbling in my chest and stomach, clouding my head and feeling like a twister in Kansas in my torso.

"Erik, what are you done?" the Professor is saying through the hot tears running down my face, scorching my cheeks and itching my jaw, and I hastily wipe them off of Han's face and check where I cling to him, bloody spurting from a yellow strip of spandex on his chest, just to the right of his heart, mostly likely lodge in a lung, perhaps around a broken rib, and the filling liquid in his lungs is making him cough up blood all over his pretty, peachy chin and dribbling down the corners of his perfect, pink mouth.

"I… I didn't do a thing! Moira shot at me, at him, and I didn't know, I –" Magneto is saying, snapped back to his senses where he moves toward the Professor, and then they both are walking toward Hank and I.

I lift my head, face hot with tears and a flush of anger as I roar hoarsely at them, "Don't you fucking dare come near me, Magneto! Moira didn't do a thing; you did this!" And then, frantically, I look to my other mentor and I plead at him with my eyes, my mind, and I know he must be picking up on it because he's instructing Moira to go into the jet for medical supplies, and for her to bring them to him as soon as possible.

"You care about him a great deal," the Professor is whispering, and he's stopping down to my level, helping me support Hank's body as Hank's pale blue eyes flutter in and out of consciousness, rolling upward, eyelids batting as he struggles to breathe through his mouth, his nose, the bullet in his chest sinking into my heart through the gaze I try to keep with him.

I can feel his pain. I feel it, just by looking into his face. He's widely expressive face. I tear off a glove with my teeth, my other hand beneath him, and I cup his face and swear the blood away from his lips while the Professor applies pressure to the wound.

"I could get the bullet out," the metalbender is whispering, stepping a hair closer. "I could help –"

"Not now, Erik," the Professor is saying quietly, but his voice is firm nevertheless. He refuses to look his friend in the eye. And I refuse to look at his friend at all.

"Alex," Hank croaks, and I try to shush him, telling him to preserve his strength. He smiles oddly. "No-can-do. I… I know when th-the human body is spent. And mine… It's spent, Alex. I'm going to die."

"Wh-what? No! Shut up, Hank, you just shut the fuck up right now! No one's dying, we're going to save you, and you just – you gotta stay with me, because you're the only decent thing I've got, you know?" I weep, and I don't care how weak it comes out even when I try to keep strength in my tone, and I definitely don't give a shit what anyone else thinks about what I'm saying or how I'm acting. "So, come on, please. Please don't think like that."

He smiles in a weird way again, and he reaches up a shaky hand – dry, heated from the sun, grains of sand sticking to it – to grab the back of my neck and drag me downward. I think he might be wanting a kiss, but no, instead, he guides my ear to his mouth, and Hank whispers for only me to hear, even with the Professor so close, "I love you, Alex. S-sorry I didn't say it sooner. I just… wanted you to know."

And when he releases me, he looks tired but unashamed, like it's perfectly fine to fall in love in the short time we did, and totally normal for two guys to be in love, and I want to hit him.

"You dumbass!" I shout, dropping my head to hide in his chest, warm blood sticky on the side of my face and in my hair. "Don't tell me that! Who the fuck gave you the right to say that to me when you know I don't want to hear it, don't want to think that someone I love loves me back and is dying –"

"You love m-me, too?" he coughs, and Moira is suddenly here, handing Charles medical supplies, and I can hear Magneto, that bastard, walking away and using Hank as an example of what humans have done and will do, and asking if anyone wants to leave with him.

"Alex," the Professor is saying, heaving me upright and trying to calm me, his mind reaching into mine. My lip trembles and I choke on a sob. "Please, give us room for a moment. We need to tend to Hank before he bleeds out too terribly much."

I huff defiantly, and sniffle disgustingly, and I feel too many things at once, which is weird, because normally I'm all sarcasm and smirks and intensely or blankly expressioned, but not now. I'm everything and nothing at once, and there is so much aching inside me that I don't know what to call it aside from 'heartbreak.'

And it makes me feel so pathetic.

I turn my feelings into rage and I glare down Magneto, who turns and looks at me with regret in his eyes, but his face is callous and unfeeling. "You bastard!" I yell at him, stomping toward him and giving him a nice, hard shove. He catches himself and I watch Raven freeze mid-step, having been about to join him. I continue, "You're just going to leave us here? Leave Hank here, even though this is your entire fucking fault? I can't believe you! I… I hate you!"

"Alex, please!" the Professor is saying, standing up for a moment. "Calm yourself. We can work this out, and we can't stop the decisions and choices made by others."

"The Hell we can't!" I hiss, and spin around to look at him, then down at Hank, and my heartstrings tug painfully, and I tear my eyes away. I look back at the metalbender, and God, I want to punch him so hard and leave a mark on that face of his, frames in a damn helmet. Where'd he even get that? Shaw? And he thinks blocking out his only friend with it is a good thing? Fuck that! Fuck him!

"Alex…"

And I freeze, face clearing of the angry stormclouds as I hear Hank's voice call out to me this time. I turn and drop to my knees, and I grasp his hand. "I'm sorry, Hank, I'm sorry."

"It's fine, just… don't… leave. Be here." And his voice is really frail on that last word, like a jagged whisper.

"I am. I am," I tell him, assure him, and I lean down and kiss his cheek, the one still clean of blood.

But Moira's and the Professor's hands are ceasing movement, and it makes my head jerk in their direction.

"Oh, my God…" Moira squeaks, retracting back and wrenching her eyes shut, making her head.

"What? What is it? …Professor?" I say, panicked, and look at him.

He looks at me grimly, his face open and eyes bluer than Hank's welled with tears, and he shudders an exhales as he informs me, "We can't do anything more here, Alex. And we won't be able to get him to a hospital in time, even if we made the teleporter take us to one."

"So what are you saying? That he really is going to die?" I say, my voice hard and pained. Hank looks up at all of us deliriously, and the faint smile leftover from my kiss on his cheek is fading as he comprehends what this means.

But he's nodding. Hank is nodding. "I… thought as much," he breathes, and he stops nodding to groan in pain, back arching, and he grips my arm on his chest with a tight, two-handed grip. "A-Alex, it's okay… really, all things d-die and come to an end a-at some point, right? C-common… life cycle…" and he's panting, trying to look at this from an objective standpoint, a scientific or alchemic all-is-one-and-one-is-all point of view, and it succeeds not in making me feel better, but instead feel worse.

"No, Hank; that… that would mean that your death is unimportant and affects no one. But that's a fucking lie! It affects me. And everyone else, because they're your friends, your mutant family, and –" But my breath is yanked out of my lungs, knocked clean out of me, when he sputters and is wracked with a final bout of pain before he falls limp, exhaling for a long time, and his eyes close, his head tilting to the side, his brown hair covering his sweating forehead, the sweat already cooling even as I brush my hand over the skin and try to lift his head again. "Hank? Hank?"

"…He's… he's gone, Alex," the Professor croaks, and he starts to bring me into his arms and pull me away from the empty shell of a body, but I can't do it. I stay rooted, and my face is blank, dead, and my limbs are as frozen as his.

"No," I murmur, and Moira is gone, going to everyone else, and Magneto is gone, too, and he took all of Shaw's minions with him, plus Raven, who didn't want to interrupt Hank and I, but that means that the bitch didn't even say goodbye.

And the Professor is holding me and rubbing my arm and back from where he hugs me from the side, and he whispering, "It's okay, Alex, you'll be okay, I know it hurts, but you'll pull through this," and I can hear him crying, sobbing just as much as I had been. I hear him in my head, 'Because I just lost two people that I love, too. I don't think I'll see them again, and if I do, it will be as enemies, and not as my sister and the man I loved as much as you loved Hank.'

And I don't want to hear that. It hurts in the same way hearing Hank say he loved me before I lost him felt, and it just makes me want to murder Magneto for doing this to both of us: taking Hank away from me and taking himself away from the Professor, who I can feel really did love the selfish bastard.

I jerk out of his grasp and step away from Hank's body.

We're taken back home by some CIA agents who pick us up.

Moira's memory of all of this gets wiped.

The Professor asks me if what I want him to do, because he will do anything for me if I ask it, because he wants the pain to ease.

Part of me wants him to wipe my memory of Hank like Moira's memory was wiped if all of us. If I never knew Hank, I wouldn't remember how I fell in love with him, and then I wouldn't be in pain.

But the rest of me is utterly disgusted with that concept. It would pain me more to even consider forgetting about him. He wouldn't want me to forget, even if it meant lessening the blow. Because if I had died, he would never forget about me. And I never want to forget about him, because if you forget about someone, it's like they never lived at all.

So I'll just keep on living, and I'll try to be back to semi-normality again (as normal as life can be for a mutant, that is), and I'll just try not to shed a tear when I think of science (something my Beast loved), or the Professor using Cerebro (something my Beast created), or plaid button-up shirts (something my Beast wore often), or glasses (something my Beast needed), or anything else of the sort.

Because I have no reason to cry, right? I had my time with him. He loved me, and I him. And that's enough, isn't it?

(But a small voice in my head will always be there to chime in and say, It will never be enough, and you know it, Havok.)