"Any news, Hank?" Charles Xavier steered his wheelchair into the medlab, where Rachel Grey lay unconscious on the bed, constantly monitored by diagnostic machines. Some of the students had left flowers or cards by her side.
"Nothing of note," the tall, blue haired man replied, shaking his head. "Which I would consider a good sign, to be honest. Scott and I gave her a thorough check-up and scanned for anything we could think of. No sign of injuries, mistreatment, or other harmful conditions."
"Yet she still hasn't woken up." Pushing himself to the young woman's side, Xavier watched her with a concerned expression.
"From what I can tell, she was put under a strong sedative," McCoy replied, looking up from his monitor. "Her body will take its time to metabolize it; and I didn't want to risk to force an anything. Give her time to recover."
"Have we waited too long," the bald man asked after a moment of silence. "The thought that we failed to rescue her earlier and failed her is a hard one to shake off, Hank."
Hank McCoy stepped to his old friend's side, looking over his shoulder at the sleeping girl's face. "Don't do that to yourself, Charles," he said. "Remember that we managed to get Rachel back, foiled Essex plan, and shut down several of his operations, without any of the other students getting hurt. Who knows what price we might have had to pay to achieve this had we rushed headlong into action."
"Yes, you're right, of course," Xavier replied, nodding slightly. "We shouldn't forget what we already achieved when looking for ways we can still improve." His gaze drifted back to the motionless mutant woman. "Do we have any idea what Essex even wanted from her?"
"Well, from what we can tell by the freak-show petting zoo in the storage room back here, he's still experimenting with the X-genes and its effect," McCoy explained, turning around to pick up a tablet screen. "He basically spliced a variety of mutant genes into different species of animals – obviously with quite the unpredictable results, as we had to find out. I assume he used the Kick drug we secured to enhance the effects of the genes."
"He didn't perform such experiments on her, did he?" Xavier looked from the tablet to Rachel. The screen showed several of the animals they liberated from Essex's abandoned lab, along with the the findings of a genetic screening.
"No, not from what I could tell," McCoy assured him. "When they found her, she had electrodes attached to her skull. If I were to take a wild guess, he was more interested in the interaction of mutant powers and the mind."
"Hardly for altruistic reasons, I would say," Xavier commented, still watching the unconscious girl. "I worry about the unseen damage he may have caused her. It may very well be the reason she hasn't woken up yet."
"As I've said, the scans Scott and I performed didn't bring up anything immediately worrisome," McCoy interjected, crossing his arms. "I could do another one, just to be sure... Though, knowing you, that's not what you're suggesting, isn't it?"
Charles Xavier smiled, while his friend began to clean his glasses. "It's the best way to make sure she will be all right," he said. "Besides, she undoubtedly suffered some traumatic experiences while held captive. This might give me the chance to ease some of that trauma before she wakes up."
"You know I fully trust your judgement when it comes to the illusive field of the mind," McCoy replied, putting his glasses back on. "Not that I believe it could do any harm, anyway. So, why don't I let you do what you do best, and I'll put on a pot of coffee in the meantime?"
"An excellent idea," Xavier replied, nodding at Hank. "I'll call you should I find anything alarming."
As Hank McCoy turned to leave the lab, Professor Charles Xavier leaned closer to the bed and reached out to take Rachel's hand in his, closing his eyes to focus on the immaterial plane of the psyche.
* * * * *
"I wasn't sure if you wanted a twinkie to go with your coffee, but I brought some along, anyway."
Dr. McCoy returned to the medlab, holding a small tray in his large hands. Charles Xavier still sat next to Rachel's bed, keeping his head lowered in deep concentration. This was what Hank assumed to be the case, as the Professor didn't say anything in response. The tall mutant scientist put the tray down on the table, then watched his friend and colleague for a while.
"Ah, there you are," Xavier eventually spoke up, slowly raising his head.
"Welcome back, Charles," McCoy replied, taking the pot to pour two cups of coffee. "For a moment I thought you had fallen asleep again."
"Don't worry, my friend, I'm as awake as ever," Xavier said, glancing over his shoulder. He reached up to touch his temple. "Just somewhat exhausted."
"So, were you able to find out anything," Hank asked. "I do hope everything is fine with Rachel's mind."
"Oh yes, I really wouldn't worry about her," Xavier replied, carefully turning around his wheelchair. "It is as you said – she just needs a little time to rest and recuperate."
"Well, that's a relief," McCoy said, nodding at the other man. He passed one of the cups to Xavier. "Any traces of Essex's experiments or what his plans with her might have been?"
"I'm afraid her memories of these events are more than just a bit hazy," Xavier replied. "It seems she was unconscious for most of her captivity. I'm inclined to say this might actually be for her best."
Hank nodded, his expression thoughtful. He watched as Xavier dropped several cubes of sugar into his cup, a frown appearing on his features as the bald professor began to stir his coffee.
"I've never seen you have your coffee anything but black," McCoy remarked.
"Hm?" Xavier glanced up from his coffee, looking momentarily confused. His gaze flicked back to the cup in front of him. "Oh... yes, that's right. I must still be halfway in Rachel's mind. It's not always easy to differentiate the various influences."
"Fair enough." Hank laughed, dumping twice the sugar into his own cup. "For a moment I thought we had converted you to the one true way of drinking your coffee – sweet and milky."
While Charles Xavier responded by smiling at his old friend, Malice reminded herself to exert her influence on the powerful telepath more subtly, lest she wanted to risk a premature discovery.