His head throbbed painfully as the world slowly came back to him. He slowly opened his eyes and blearily looked at his hands, which had been cleaned and bandaged. Lying on his side he could barely see that he wasn't it the warm bedroom anymore, but a cold medical room. It was quiet here, no voices, no noise save the beeps of the medical machines hooked up to him. He looked around grogely, slowly proping himself up on his elbow to get a better view. He swallowed hard, his mouth and throat were dry from the noes tube feeding him oxygen. He somehow managed to sit up fully, legs hanging over the side of the bed. Not only was his head was throbbing and swimming but his hands and arms hurt like hell, the glass had gone deep and his nerves hated him for it.

He jumped a mile as the nearby door slid open with a whoosh. His gaze hurriedly went to the people who entered, his heart pounding loudly. It was Xavier, and someone else, someone big, blue and hairy. "You're awake?" the new person said, he sounded almost suprised.

"Ivan this is Hank McCoy." Xavier introduced his colleague.

"Where...? Did... did he hurt... anyone?" his speech slurred greatly, his mouth felt like something furry had died in it. "I... didn't want to... I..." his chest felt tight, "I... I'm sorry... I'll leave..." he made to get up but his head swam and his stomach did flips.

"Calm down Ivan, I am not angry at you." Xavier said softly as Hank eased him back down onto the bed and a glass of water was offered to him. "You are scared, that is understandable under these circumstances but you hurt yourself badly."

Ivan blinked back the stars as his head sent spikes of pain through him. "When you say 'he', who are you referring to?" Hank asked, noting that Ivan's entire body tensed up and started shaking.

"No... no... bad man... bad voice..." he gripped his head and started rocking, "Voice like... like ice in... in my heart." he curled in on himself. He felt the same warmth seep into his mind and knew that Xavier was helping, but now he felt really sick, his stomach twisting in knots.

He must have looked about to throw up as Xavier looked at Hank, and Hank looked at Xavier. "Ivan. Look at me." Xavier spoke calmly as he moved his wheelchair closer to the bed, "I need you to breath, can you do that?" he looked to Hank as the big man went to the cabinets.

"He... he wants... hurt... pain... to destroy..." Ivan strained to speak against his tightening chest. He need to calm down, they weren't going to hurt him, they were nice, kind.

"Are they really?" the voice was a whisper, creeping from the darkness of his mind.

He looked at Xavier, his voice was muffled, silent even. Was he a nice man? Storm had felt like warmth, but he couldn't read this man. "What... do you... do you want... with me?" his voice shook, "I'm... not going back to the hospital..."

"I won't send you back Ivan, you have a strong gift. You just need to learn to control it." Xavier said, "And whoever or whatever this voice is, I'm sure we can quiet it."

He blinked as his mind dulled, he felt drugs coursing through his system. He saw Hank near the I.V bag, syringe in hand "This should help you to relax." the man said, "You've opened the wounds on your hands."

He looked down at his hands, seeing the blood there. "I don't... want him... to hurt... people." he slurred, "I... don't want... to hurt... people."

"Don't worry Ivan. You won't hurt anyone." Xavier said kindly, "When you are better, you can go back upstairs and meet people, people like you and me."

Ivan looked at him blearily, then back at Hank as he cleaned the reopened wounds on his palms. "M' cold..." he mumbled, shivers wracking his body.

"Lie down and rest." Xavier said, "Your body needs time to heal." Hank helped Ivan lie back down, careful of his head injury, then pulled the heavy quilt up over his body.

"M' sorry." he said sluggishly. His mind slowly fading back into darkness, but that was okay.

Sleep ment no voices.