Wow! Thanks everyone for the story alerts and favorites and reviews! I wasn't expecting such a big response after such a short first chapter! As a reward, here's chapter two. It's longer than I thought it would be so yay I guess.
"Now tell me what's wrong."
"It's Charles. He's sick."
That Hank was concerned enough to hunt down someone who wasn't guaranteed to help or even care meant that "He's sick" was probably the understatement of the decade. I played it off, not wanting to overreact and show my emotions to a boy who was no longer my ally.
"That's why you're here? Illness is hardly something to get worked up about. Surely he'll get over it in a few days time."
"That's what we thought last week when all this started. He said it was just a cold. But he's been steadily deteriorating. He started calling for people in his sleep, especially Raven and you. We asked if he wanted us to find you, but he said it wouldn't matter because you wouldn't come."
Hank paused. The other two children remained silent but decidedly uncomfortable. I wasn't going to like what was coming.
"He went to sleep two nights ago and has yet to regain consciousness."
"What? Why didn't you take him to a hospital?"
The volume of my response caused the group in front of me to jump. That all the metal in the room shifted may also have contributed to their startled state. So much for keeping my emotions reigned in.
Hank recovered quickly, glaring at me. "We thought of that. In the beginning, Charles didn't want a hospital. He'd spent a good deal of time in one after Cuba and wasn't eager to go back. We respected his wishes, but compromised by bringing a doctor to the mansion. The doctor said he had the flu, but started getting concerned about pneumonia when he wasn't improving. The morning Charles wouldn't wake up, the doctor insisted we take him to a hospital, despite his misgivings about being there. We agreed, but before we could get him out of bed…well, the simplest way to put it is that Charles isn't exactly controlling his powers."
"What do you me he isn't controlling his powers?" Based on my experience and what Mystique had told me, Charles had never not been in control of his powers.
"It means that whatever Charles is feeling is telepathically transferred to everybody in the mansion. It's usually guilt and sadness. He's clearly dreaming about something. We can never tell exactly what it is, but…sometimes I get the sense that there's sand under my feet." Hank made sure to look me straight in the eye for the final sentence. Only those present 9 months ago in Cuba would truly understand the meaning behind what Hank had just said.
"Why do you need me? I'm not a doctor. I won't be able to help him." It sounded callous, even to me. But I hadn't truly faced Charles since that day and I wasn't sure either of us were ready, despite the months that had passed. And really, what could they expect me to do to help him?
"You have a helmet that keeps his powers from affecting you."
"I do." Oh.
"It's gotten to the point where none of us can be in the same room with him without falling to our knees in tears. He's in pain Erik." It didn't pass my attention that he made sure to use the name Charles would. "None of us can help him. We can't get to him to put an ice pack on his head, much less get him the water, nutrients and medicine he needs. If one of us can't get in there without succumbing to his emotional state, he's going to die. I know you've had your differences, but surely you can't want to see him dead. Please. At least tell us what the helmet is made of so we can get into his room and take care of him."
"How do I know this isn't a trick so Charles can find a way to get past the helmet?" It was silly to suggest, but I can't change my distrusting nature.
Hank's pleading expression turned cold more quickly than Mystique could change forms. "Because we aren't you."
I was silent, impressed by how much Hank had grown. He was no longer the unassuming scientist we'd accidentally outed as a mutant.
He took my silence as an opportunity to continue. "If you don't believe us and you won't give us the helmet, then come and see for yourself. This isn't a trick. We don't know what to do and we need help. Even if it has to come from you."
My decision was made, but I paused for effect, trying to keep my guise of neutrality, despite my earlier outburst.
"Very well. I'll need to tell my people I'm going, then gather a few of my things. After that we can leave."
The trio looked visibly relieved, though they never let their guard down. I called Emma in. Everyone tensed, but I spoke quickly in as sinister and authoritative a tone as I could muster.
"I have a task I need to handle personally. I'll be gone for a few days. You can contact me through Hank." Emma and Hank exchanged uneasy glances, but Emma nodded nonetheless and was gone before I could tell her to leave.
I grabbed my helmet and a few other things I thought I might need then joined them at the door. As we left, Hank saw me reaching for one more thing. His massive paw swatted my hand away.
"For goodness sake, leave that ridiculous cape here."
I kept my back to him so the boy couldn't see the smile that slipped up on my face.
I've never actually written a story in first person before. I'm hopeful this one is working out to be a decent balance of character dialogue and what's going on in Erik's head. Next chapter should be up sometime tomorrow!
Oh and reviews, as always, are appreciated!