Head pounding. John's eyes slowly opened. Where was he? The last thing he remembered was fighting Bobby on the island. How did he get here? Where was here? Cold. He felt cold. It wasn't the room temperature, but he himself felt cold. He sat up slowly. Something didn't feel right. He noticed the medical equipment, then recognition hit him. He'd been here before. He never thought he'd see this place again. He heard the metallic doors slide open and looked over. Big blue and fuzzy walked in. Someone he'd seen, but hadn't known.

"Feeling alright, I hope, John?" He asked sounding rather pleasant. John just watched him for a moment as he walked over to check monitors, papers, all the works, then walked over to the hospital bed John was in. "I'm Sorry. My name's Dr. Hank McCoy, I don't believe we've met before." Once again, silence from John. This was probably one of the last places he wanted to be.

The silence and the look on John's face showed exactly that he hadn't wanted to be there, either. Hank broke the silence. "You're lucky to be alive, you know." He pointed out. John didn't know. "Very lucky to get out with only a concussion" . His brows furrowed.

"Mind filling me in?" John finally spoke. "And, uh, isn't Jean the head doc around here?" He questioned lightly, letting his curiosity get the best of him. Hank had opened his mouth, but let it close again.
"Jean is…dead, my dear boy." John raised an eyebrow.
"Dead?" He couldn't believe that. He knew how powerful she was. She'd been dead before. Hank saw the disbelief cross John's face.
"I'm afraid so. It was a terrible loss." He tried to press a small smile on his lips but it was more like a thin line across his face. Hank's expression told John he was telling the truth. Or at least what he believed to be the truth. He guessed he wouldn't know for sure.

"So you gonna tell me what the hell happened or not?" John questioned, clearly already past the fact that Jean was dead. Hank nodded.
"Yes, sorry." Hank cleared his throat softly. "After you were knocked out," John made a face of annoyance to that mention. " Logan and I put an end to Magneto's madness. Worry not, we hadn't killed him, we just had to choose the lesser of two evils and gave him the cure. Everything would have worked out fine until the ground troops arrived and open-fired on Jean. She began de-materializing everyone in sight. You were taken back here after being found alive during the…stampede off the island." John sat in silence again, processing everything he just heard. "As I said, you're very lucky to be alive." Hank repeated. John nodded.
"No kidding. " he mumbled. Hank looked back down at some papers, his eyes quickly scanned over the lines of words.

"You're feeling alright?" He asked, the subject going back to what he first intended on doing. "Is there anything bothering you?" He looked at John again.
"Headache." He shrugged. "S' not too bad." He rubbed at his face, then ran his hand back through his hair. "When can I get outta here?" He questioned and let out a breath.
"Not quite yet." Hank replied. "You'll need to stay for another day just to be sure you're alright." He added. John sighed. He didn't wan't to be there at all. "You won't be needing a baby sitter, I trust?" Hank chuckled at his own joke. John wasn't amused. Hank dropped his smile. "Right." He sighed.

Hank was quiet and busy in paperwork again as John stood up. Hank turned when he heard and John just rolled his eyes. "Calm down, I'm just taking a piss." Hank nodded and looked back at the papers. When he heard the bathroom door shut, he sighed again, glancing over towards the empty cure needle on the counter which he'd found stuck in John's leg when he was brought there. As far as he was aware, John had no clue about it.

John wasn't aware of the cure needle, but he was fully aware that he felt odd. He looked in the mirror for a minute after he was done in the bathroom. He didn't look pale or anything. He just felt…off. He walked out of the bathroom and back to the bed.
"John?" Hank looked at the younger man who looked back at him as he sat on the bed.
"Hm?" John looked incredibly bored, which he was. He looked over at Hank and saw that he looked a bit too solemn for his likings. "What?" He asked, furrowing his brows.

"There's one more thing that you need to know, regarding your recovery." John looked at Hank with that one look. The look that everyone has when there's a hint of bad news after an accident of some sort. He said nothing. Hank walked over to the empty cure needle and picked it up, then turned towards John. "This was found injected into your leg. I am sorry, I know how much pride you take in be—"
"Who else knows?" John cut him off sharply. What the hell happened? He was furious. He had become what he had hated. The Brotherhood had truly fallen. Hank seemed surprised by the sudden anger in John's voice. "I need to know."
"Only I know. I doubt Bobby noticed when he brought you in, with all the chaos happening. I haven't told anyone; I didn't feel that was my place." John rested his elbows on the top oh his legs and slowly rubbed his face with both hands. This isn't what he wanted. He was one of them now. Why the hell did this have to happen to him?

"I need to get outta here…" He grumbled, sitting up straight again with a sigh. He got up again, Hank moved in front of him as he began to walk towards the door.
"John, it's best for you to ju—"
"Let me go." He demanded, but almost calmly, which was probably more frightening than if he were to have shouted it. Hank, however, didn't flinch.
"John, you must listen to me." Hank spoke sternly and calmly. "I know how you must feel right now, but you need to stay here for another day."
"I'm fine. I'm not dying. Just let me go, Hank, I don't belong here. Not anymore."
"John, you're more welcome here than anywhere else. I'm sorry to say that but you and I both know that is the truth, as horrible as it is." Hank spoke stern and stubbornly, making eye contact with John who held it for a moment. It seemed like a few minutes of silence, but it wasn't even one before John, against his entire being, turned and walked back over to the bed. "Thank you."
John didn't reply. He was through talking to the blue-furred mutant. He plopped back onto the bed and laid there, staring at the ceiling. Hank saw no further conversation would continue and since he had no more work there, he began to leave.
"I'll be back to check on you later." Hank told him right before he walked out the door. Once more John said nothing.

Out. He needed out. John had repositioned himself several times within the fifteen minutes after Hank had left. He really could just walk out. Just wait until the halls are crowded, slip out unnoticed. Hank would probably report back here during those times. John had thought about it. He'd gotten back into the clothes he'd arrived in— the shirt, pants, jacket, boots. The device he'd worn on his wrist was broken. He didn't need that anyway. He left it.

It was probably about half an hour more that passed when he finally decided to walk out of the med bay. The hall down there was empty. Quickly, and quietly, he made his way down the hall and into the elevator that brought him to the ground floor. There were few kids in the hall. When he stepped out, nobody seemed to mind him. This was perfect. He'd actually made it out and away from the mansion without anyone stopping him. He smirked with a little victory to himself. That was the easy part.

The hard part, well that was still ahead of him…