Logan had been waiting on the front steps for half an hour before the black X-van pulled up the driveway. Hank stood a little behind him with a stretcher. Bobby and Kitty watched from within the mansion so as not to cause any more discomfort to Harry's already overstimulated senses. Forge was out doing some small-time repair work in the city; one of the jobs he had picked up after the explosion. Summers was out doing who-knew-what at who-knew-where. And Frost, against his wishes, stood slightly off to the side of the front doors.
She was there in case Harry was conscious and in pain. Should that be the case, Frost had stated that she would step in to temporarily override his mind in order to calm his senses.
Logan truthfully didn't want the mind-witch anywhere near Harry as far as mental abilities were concerned. He did, however, recognize her usefulness in this particular area. Telepaths had the ability to calm, or depending on their power and skill, control the raging abilities of young mutants. It was one of the qualities that made them such good teachers for the next generation. Their ability to calm out-of-control teenage mutants made them the perfect teachers and often, as in Charles case, presidents or headmasters of mutant schools.
So, while Logan didn't enjoy her personal presence, he did understand the benefit Harry would receive should he be conscious and in pain.
As the van rolled up, Logan hurriedly stepped down the mansion steps and onto the driveway. He cautiously opened the back door and let his breath whoosh out of him in relief. Harry was asleep. An exhausted sleep, but a peaceful one nonetheless. Turning, he gave the 'Okay' symbol to Hank and the others.
From the other side of the car, Storm approached.
"He's been asleep the entire ride." She whispered. "He hasn't reacted at all since then. I think his sense are in the process of winding down." Logan nodded. Then, moving infinitely slow, he shifted his arms underneath Harry to gently lever him up to his chest level. Harry's head lolled gently against Logan's chest and Logan wasn't surprised to see two black furred ears laid back against Harry's head.
Logan proceeded to carry him up the steps before carefully depositing him on the gurney. Hank nodded and Logan backed off as Hank wheeled the kid inside.
"So, how is he?" Logan jerked and glared up at the ceiling where Kitty had phased halfway through.
"He's asleep, Kitty. Now drop down before you fall." Storm said with a frown. The retired teacher had crossed her arms as she gave a severe look to her one-time pupil. Kitty blinked before dropping into a flip. She landed lightly on the balls of her feet.
"How long do you think he'll sleep? Does this mean we can stop hiding everything from him?" She asked. Logan had just opened his mouth to answer when-
Stomp! Stomp! Stomp!
The group cast their gazes to the ceiling. Kitty huffed before jumping up to phase her hand through the ceiling. When she came down she was gripping the ankle of a somewhat disgruntled Bobby who stumbled before landing on his rear.
"Ouch!" He yelped.
"Try the stairs next time, genius." Kitty staid with a roll of her eyes. "Anyway, how long till he's back up and running?" There was no reason to specify who the "He" in her question was. There was only one person they had on their minds.
"Hank said that, since it wasn't severe, he'll probably be waking tomorrow at the latest. It depends on how much it tired him out." Logan said. Then, unable to do anything else, he turned and headed inside. It wasn't likely Hank would allow them into the basement until after Harry was settled, but being even a little bit closer helped. The others followed him into the front room.
"So, after this we can tell him, right?" Bobby asked as he strode forward. He held his hand behind his head in a relaxed manner and seemed as if he didn't have a care in the world. "Playing power football with him will be a blast! Wait, does he even know how to play football? I mean, he's British, right? Does this mean I get to teach him? I-Ouch!" Bobby yelped as Kitty drove her elbow into his gut.
"Harry's sick Bobby. He's probably going to be feeling pretty bad for the next few days and that's without the whole "we lied to you about everything" coming into play."
"Yeah, I know. But I just thought that once everything was figured out, he'd be one of us. You know, for real. We wouldn't have to hide anything from him anymore." Bobby grinned at the irate female. Kitty rolled her eyes and gave a long drawn out sigh.
"Boys," she muttered under her breath. Storm frowned reprovingly at the two while Logan gave them both looks of annoyance.
"Just because he'll know we're mutants that doesn't mean he'll know all about the X-men." Logan's voice was low and determined.
"Huh?" Bobby jerked his head around while Kitty tilted her head to the side.
"What do you mean, Logan?" Storm asked.
"Just because he's a mutant and he knows we are, it doesn't mean he's going to be involved with the X-men. Personally, I'd rather he didn't know. Its just going to be impossible to hide it come fall when no-one shows up for fall semester." Logan growled out in irritation. He crossed his arms and leaned on the wall moodily. "You are not to involve him in any of what happens with the X-men. I don't want him to even be aware of what we're doing on any given mission. Our clandestine missions will stay clandestine. This isn't like when ya'll were still in high-school with Jean and Shades. I don't want him sneaking on the Blackbird to go joy riding and I especially don't want to find out that he's snuck onto a mission. You two," Logan gave the two young adults an unimpressed stare, "Will ensure that Harry does not have any sort of idea when the missions are and you are certainly not to give the impression that there is anything even remotely interesting about them. This is an entirely different stage than what went down when ya'll were still in school."
"Don't worry Logan. We'll make sure Harry doesn't get involved." Bobby said seriously. His face was sober and for the first time in a while he actually looked serious about something. Beside him, Kitty straightened.
"Well, yeah! Of course, we're going to keep Harry out of it! We're not freshmen anymore, Logan. Sheesh, at least give us some credit. You did train us after all." Kitty stated as she flipped her hair in a way that was entirely reminiscent of her younger days. Logan allowed a relieved smile to tug at the corners of his mouth.
"Sure, you are, Half-pint." Logan chuckled. He reached out and mussed up the tops of their heads in a familiar action of fondness. He ignored the two's exclamations of distaste as the hidden elevator's door slid open. Hank appeared.
"He's settled into the isolation room now. You can come down to the main room to look in." Hank shifted awkwardly to one side of the elevator to allow room for the others. Though the elevator had been made for a large group of people, it felt stifling as they rode it down to the bottom floor. The silent tension of the elevator was as thick as soup. Thankfully, the ride was short, and the elevator's occupants were released at the sound of a friendly ding. Logan strode out first, with Hank following behind with Storm. The younger duo meandered after them.
The first thing Logan saw when he entered the medical wing was Charles's circular room. Beside it, were several smaller observational rooms. It was to the first of these that Logan charged to.
The room was smaller than Charles's. It held a metal hospital bed in the center with several pale wood cabinets. Three high-quality white-noise generators were stationed around the bed. Logan knew that even if the room had been built with soundproof walls and glass, Harry still wouldn't have been able to hear a thing.
The kid had been tucked into the white sheets and seemed to be resting peacefully. If one discounted the feverish blush and the bone white complexion, Harry looked to be dreaming.
"Harry's vital s are stable, and he looks to be recovering well from the sensory spike. I've given him a slight calming drug that should dull his hearing while his body finishes recovery. Being your son, I don't know how long it'll stay in his system however. Thankfully, his sensitivity levels are already dropping back into the "Safe" range so he should wake up as soon as his body feels like it's had adequate time to reboot itself." Hank spoke from Logan's side as he too observed the room's young occupant.
"When will he wake?" Logan asked.
"Hard to tell. Like I said, it all depends on how fast his body reboots itself. If he's inherited any portion of your regeneration, Harry will likely be up with an hour. If he hasn't… Hmmm…" Hank hummed as he flicked through the pages on his clipboard. His blue eyes scanned the data quickly. "At the latest, the drug will wear off by tomorrow morning. He might sleep a little bit longer if he falls into a natural sleep, but most he will most likely wake before noon tomorrow. He may still be slightly sensitive, but Harry will likely be back in full health within a few days." Hank assured Logan.
The broad-shouldered man relaxed slightly and gave a sigh of relief.
"No permanent damage then?"
"There appears to be none, yes. However, until Harry wakes up, I can't be sure. Even then, it will be hard to judge if he has lost any of his heightened senses without having a previous record to measure against." Logan gave another sigh as he nodded.
"I don't think he'll have lost any hearing or scenting over it. The attack wasn't that bad in terms of duration and peak point." Storm strode to stand on Logan's other side. She peered into the dimly lit medical room with discerning eyes. Though her tone had been light, her face was serious and focused.
"Storm is correct, Logan. It is likely that Harry will not have any long-lasting effects and even more likely that he won't notice if he does. However, when he wakes up, it is probable that he will be in a rather sensitive and delicate state of mind. A big shock, like say… the fact that we are all mutants, might trigger a panic attack or a relapse. If he gets upset enough he might even have both." Hank intoned. Logan turned left to face the Beast of Bayville.
"He's got to be told the truth, Hank. There's no way we could hide it, even if it would be good for him. The kid'l definitely have questions about all this," Logan lifted his meaty arms to gesture at the underground facility and the X-men equipment scattered about.
"I'm not arguing that. However, it does need to be told to him gently. Going up and laying down the law like he's a child in detention won't cut it, Logan." Though Hank's words were rough, the tone he used was soft with an edge of worry.
"I agree. Harry doesn't need any added stress. That's why you shouldn't be the one telling him." The chilled voice of Emma Frost cut into the conversation like a knife to butter. Her heels clicked as she stepped forward. It took a moment for the mind witch's implications to hit but when it did the results were instantaneous. Hank looked horrified and Storm grimaced as she took a step back and in front of her once-pupils.
"What?!" Logan growled. His front lip lifted in a wild snarl and he fisted his hands in anger. Murderous eyes looked to the telepath in vehement rage.
"You heard me, or is your intellect even duller than I had previously thought? Harry doesn't need you messing him up. If you go in there, you'll hurt him." Frost argued viciously. Something strange lit her face and her eyes gleamed in determination.
"The hell are you saying! He's my kid, I think I can handle him just fine." Logan said angrily.
"Like you handled his mutation? You knew Harry was a mutant, but you didn't do anything. You could have avoided this situation entirely!" Frost hissed venomously.
"You're saying this is my fault?" Logan swung his arms to Harry's medical room in a broad gesture.
"Well, you didn't exactly prevent it, now did you?" The icy woman asked.
"What was I supposed to do? Wrap him up in bubble wrap and lock him in the bomb shelter?" Logan asked incredulously.
"No! But if he had been told that we are mutants, we could have realized he needed medication sooner!" Frost grit out angrily.
"Medication? What the hell has that got to do with any of this?" Logan questioned irritably.
"Everything! If Harry had been on the proper medication, none of this would have happened! Your negligence is the reason Harry's on that hospital bed!" Frost accused.
"Knowing he has enhanced senses wouldn't have stopped this because I'm not going to put my kid on medication! It dulls the senses!" Logan argued.
"It protects him from himself! What would you have him do? Hide away from the outside world?"
"No! I'd each him how to deal with it!"
"How?! Deal with Constant pain for the rest of his life? Oh yes! I can see how great he'll feel when you tell him that you want him to be in pain every time he goes out for groceries because you don't like medication!" Frost snarled as she stepped closer.
"It dulls his full potential!"
"It can take away pain! You don't care if he's in pain!"
"No! I do care, but I want him to know how live safely! I want him to be capable of full independence!"
"You just don't want to admit that Harry needs help that you can't provide! You're an unfit parent who bases everything off of your stupid pride! You don't care about what's best for Harry! How can you? The only thing on your mind is yourself and your mission! Harry shouldn't even be here! We're undertaking covert, illegal, dangerous missions! This is no place for a child! Yet you refuse to send him somewhere safer! Your stupid ego gets in the way of what Harry needs!" Frost shouted as she poked her dainty finger into Logan's chest with each accusation.
"There is nowhere safer! He's mutant, Frost! Where in the world can I send him that people won't eventually find him! At least if he's here, he's with us!"
"If he's with us then Harry's in the same danger we're in! Think, damn it! Harry's a child! What do you think he'll be able to do if they come for us? Harry isn't even of age to consent to being in any sort of danger! He's too young to know better!"
"And sending him away is better?"
"YES! At least then he can't be connected to "the terrorist X-Men!". If he stays here, he'll be seen as more than just a mutant, he'll be an infidel! Do you know what they'd do to him? They'd plug him up to machines and cut him open to see how he ticks! And if that doesn't kill him, their prison surely will! Keeping him here is a death sentence, Logan!" Frost roared. She was about to continue her tirade when a soft sob broke her concentration. The group of older mutants turned to look back to the sound proof room, but Harry was no longer in there. Rather, the door to the room was slightly ajar and a pale face looked out. Green eyes stared at the adults while black furred ears lay very, very flat against onyx locks.
When Harry regained consciousness it was a slow, gradual recovery of the senses. The first thing to come to his attention was the noise he could hear. Harry felt his ears twitch and flick as he listened to the sound of rushing wind. It was loud, but somehow soothing in how indistinct it was. The next thing Harry noticed was the feeling of soft, expensive fabric under his body. He twitched his fingers in order to feel the fabric under them, but frowned at the constraining sensation of his gloves. That was odd… why would he wear gloves to bed?
Harry stilled as he recalled the ill-fated shopping trip.
When they had left the clothing store, Harry had taken one step and felt as if all of his senses were screaming at him. He remembered stumbling back against the wall, but after that it got hazy. He remembered being guided out of the mall and somewhere else and could somewhat recall sitting for what felt like ages before everything stopped trying to bash his body in. Then Harry could remember someone (Professor Munroe?) telling him to get up and go home. After that it got fuzzy again and he didn't remember anything after that.
Harry opened his eyes slowly to see a dimly lit, white paneled ceiling above him. He frowned at the ceiling before slowly turning his head to look about.
Had he been taken to the hospital? Harry lay in a white hospital bed in what Harry assumed was an average hospital room. There were cabinets on the walls and several odd looking medical devices crammed here and there. The only things that seemed in use however, were a few small, white dome-like things. They had cords connecting them to the power outlets and holes at the top. Harry looked at them curiously for a few moments before slowly sitting up in bed. His head ached a little and his ears felt sore. When he had sat completely upright, Harry's vision wavered about, and he almost wished to lay back down.
Instead of returning to his resting state, the boy moved to slowly swing his legs over the side of the bed. When Harry stood, he wobbled slightly before gripping the metal bed rails for support. Harry waited for a moment to make sure he was steady before letting go. The he wobbled over to the closest odd-shaped machine and bent over slightly to listen. Apparently, the white mechanisms were the things producing the wind sound.
Harry twitched his ears slightly before turning to the long row of mirrors opposite the bed. They could have almost been windows and Harry wondered if these were the same one-way mirrors used on cop shows. Then he dismissed that notion in order to look at himself.
Wow… I didn't think it was possible to look this pale without being dead…
Harry grimaced at the starkly pale skin and the gleam of cold sweat that decorated his brow. His clothes were still (thankfully) unchanged, though they were wrinkly and did not smell too great. Harry's harry was a lax, tangled mess while his ears drooped down upon his head. Harry reached a hand up to touch his left ear and grimaced at how tender it felt. When he felt around the base there was something dried and caked on there. Harry rubbed a little off and brought his hand back down to look at it. Dried particles of blood dusted his fingertips with a rusty hue. Harry frowned with worry. Had the noise gotten so bad that his ears had actually bled? Then Harry stilled as a new piece of information smacked into his brain.
He wasn't wearing his cap. Whoever had put him here had seen his ears. Somebody knew. In America, the most anti-mutant country in the world!
OH SHITE!
Harry let out a strangled gasp as his knees collapsed beneath him and he landed on his shins. Breath whooshed out of Harry's lungs in a massive gust of air and he struggled to breathe any of it back in. Fear caused his body to tremble as he gripped his knees with a tight grip. Harry bent over himself as he felt his heart rate quicken to a pounding drum. It pounded a devastating mantra into his skull with fearsome intensity. His stomach rioted and Harry thought he would be sick.
Harry struggled to breathe as he continued to drown within his own mind.
No. He thought. I can't- I can't do this right now! Harry painfully straitened his back and stilled his rapid gasping. Mentally, he counted to five before blowing out and taking a new breath. Harry held this breath slightly longer before releasing it and taking in a new gulp of air. As he worked on breathing normally, Harry worked to coral his raging thoughts. It was hard but after few moments of controlled breathing he was able to slowly bring his situation to the forefront of his mind.
Someone had seen his ears. Not good.
Someone had taken him to a hospital and had him treated for… whatever had happened at the mall. Better, but tied intrinsically to the first "not good".
No one had locked him up or killed him yet. Amazing considering the "not good".
So that meant, whoever had helped him, Harry thought it was Munroe, either had positive feelings to mutants or at least tolerated them. Very good.
Harry shakily unfolded and sat upright as his breathing finally calmed and his trembling ceased. No matter what happened, freaking out now would not help. Instead, Harry slowly stood, and with some trepidation, walked to the door. Unlike the wall, the white door actually had a piece of clear plexi-glass allowing a small slot of the outside world to be seen.
Harry gasped as he took in the scene outside his room with wide eyes. That… was not a hospital. Harry may not have actually been in one before, but he had watched enough of Aunt Petunia's soap operas to have a general idea. In fact, Harry didn't know quite what to call it. It looked like a mix of an underground, concrete bunker, and one of the sci-fi scenes from one of Dudley's television shows. The walls were smoothed portions of concrete interspersed with panels of metal or cinderblock. Various pieces of equipment hung along the walls and even more was simply littered about on steel tables and work benches. Control panels and massive computers also sparsely dotted the room. All in all, it looked like some sort of futuristic home base of command center.
However, what really grabbed Harry's attention wasn't the room. Rather, his focus was on the people in the room.
It appeared that he had been correct in believing that Professor Munroe had been the one to help him at the mall. She stood nervously in front of Bobby and Kitty, as though to shield them from the other occupants of the room. Professor Munroe was not very interesting in the big scheme of things, however. Instead, Harry was absolutely riveted by the blue behemoth standing awkwardly to the side. The creature was massive and appeared more ape like than human. He stood on two legs with a massive torso and a truly impressive set of blue gorilla arms hanging down below his knees. The arms and legs were highly muscles and the feet were large and obviously designed for a more natural setting than the underground base. The creature's facial features were much more human, if tented blue. Green eyes viewed the world through wire framed glasses while a grimace nestled itself underneath hooked nose. Blue eye brows were pulled down in distaste while equally blue sideburns framed his face. Harry realized that his sideburns were actually similar to Logan's. The blue thing wore a green shirt, a white lab coat, and a pair of old khakis.
For a moment, Harry merely took in the bulky, blue beast. It took him a little bit to look past the creature to focus on what had drawn the creature's distaste. The sight caused Harry's own lips to quirk into a frown.
Logan and Frost were facing each other, and were involved in what appeared to be a heated argument. Logan's face was twisted into a ferocious snarl of rage while Frost's features were tightened in distaste and something that reminded Harry an awful lot like Snape. Her face was wholly different of course, but there was a similar gleam of discrimination and superiority in her face. It turned her usual regal features into something ugly. Harry watched as Frost spat something at Logan. Logan's fists clenched, and he returned fire before waving his hands at the room Harry had been woken in. Were they talking about him? Was Logan upset that Harry was a mutant? Harry swallowed reflexively. He needed to know what they were saying. With trembling hands, Harry slowly pulled down the handle on the door and eased it open. The newly installed door was silent, but the outside world was just as loud and abrasive as Harry remembered it being. His ears twitched back at the coldness in Frost's voice.
"Well, you didn't exactly prevent it, now did you?" She asked. Again, her usually beautiful face looked monstrous with such negative emotions stretched across it.
"What was I supposed to do? Wrap him up in bubble wrap and lock him in the bomb shelter?" Logan asked incredulously.
"No! But if he had been told that we are mutants, we could have realized he needed medication sooner!" Frost grit out angrily.
Harry froze as he processed Frost's words. They were mutants? Logan, Professor Munroe, Bobby, Frost, and Kitty? They were all mutants? Harry took a deep breath and leaned further into the anteroom.
"Medication? What the hell has that got to do with any of this?" Logan questioned irritably. Harry wondered the same thing. What did medicine have to do with mutants?
"Everything! If Harry had been on the proper medication, none of this would have happened! Your negligence is the reason Harry's on that hospital bed!" Frost accused. Harry flinched at the venom in her tone. She sounded as though Logan had committed the worst sin to man. And he hadn't, right? Its not like he could foresee the future. Only magic could do that. [1]
"Knowing he has enhanced senses wouldn't have stopped this because I'm not going to put my kid on medication! It dulls the senses!" Logan argued. Harry's eyes widened in shock as he heard the way Logan referred to him.
"It protects him from himself! What would you have him do? Hide away from the outside world?"
"No! I'd each him how to deal with it!" Harry flinched as the voices were raised higher and higher. The dull pain in his ears spiked a bit and he folded them back against his head. Then he looked back to Frost.
"How?! Deal with Constant pain for the rest of his life? Oh yes! I can see how great he'll feel when you tell him that you want him to be in pain every time he goes out for groceries because you don't like medication!" Frost snarled as she stepped closer. Harry frowned and bit his bottom lip. Was Frost speaking the truth about constant pain? His ears certainly hurt right now. Harry reached up to smooth over an aching ear.
"It dulls his full potential!" Logan argued back.
"It can take away pain! You don't even care if he's in pain!"
"No! I do care, but I want him to know how live safely! I want him to be capable of full independence!"
"You just don't want to admit that Harry needs help that you can't provide! You're an unfit parent who bases everything off of your stupid pride! You don't care about what's best for Harry! How can you? The only thing on your mind is yourself and your mission! Harry shouldn't even be here! We're undertaking covert, illegal, dangerous missions! This is no place for a child! Yet you refuse to send him somewhere safer! Your stupid ego gets in the way of what Harry needs!" Frost shouted as she poked her dainty finger into Logan's chest with each accusation. Harry's hands started to shake as his ears began to pulse with pain. The adults were becoming more and more emotional and while Harry could appreciate the fact that they cared enough to argue over his wellbeing, it was becoming rather stressful. He could feel his heart beat slowly rising as his eyes flickered from Logan to Frost and back again.
"There is nowhere safer! He's mutant, Frost! Where in the world can I send him, that people won't find him! At least if he's here, he's with us!"
"If he's with us, Harry's in the same danger we're in! Think, damn it! Harry's a child! What do you think he'll be able to do if they come for us? Harry isn't even of age to consent to being in any sort of danger! He's too young to know better!"
"And sending him away is better?"
"YES! At least then he can't be connected to "the terrorist X-Men!". If he stays here, he'll be more than just a mutant, he'll be an infidel! Do you know what they'd do to him? They'd plug him up to machines and cut him open to see how he ticks! And if that doesn't kill him, their prison surely will! Keeping him here is a death sentence, Logan!"
Harry gasped loudly. The X-Men? Even he knew of them! Weren't they an extremist mutant terrorist group?! He paled further when every other pair of eyes in the room turned in his direction.
Oh Shite! Shite! Shite! Shite!
Harry felt his previous sense of panic and overwhelming fear return like the blow of an anvil. His breath got caught in his lungs and could practically feel his heart rate speed up.
"Harry," Professor Munroe gasped. She looked as horrified as Harry felt. He blinked and swallowed.
"You're all mutants. You're the X-men." He said in a trembling voice. The adults shifted, still in shock at his appearance. Then, the blue beast stepped forward.
"That would be correct. Perhaps we could sit and talk about it?" He asked in an even toned, cultured voice. The voice was soothing on his ears and Harry felt himself relax minutely. He eyed the odd group for moment before nodding. He needed answers and these adults looked like they didn't even know what to say to him. It was almost similar to a child being caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Still, Harry was relieved to be getting some answers. He could feel his heart rate slow in its fast-paced pumping and his lungs seemed to be able to hold air for longer. Harry was still nervous, but they wouldn't answer his questions if they were going to hurt him or if they were planning on wiping his mind. (Harry wasn't sure if they could actually do that, but he'd heard they could on the telly and every rumor has a shred of truth at its origin.)
"Alright then, I need to give you a checkup real quick, so let's head into the examination room and I can answer your questions while we go along." The blue creature stepped forward and obstructed Harry's view of the others as he shepherded Harry back into the private medical room.
"Oh, Ok." Hurry murmured as he turned to go back into the room he woke in. His ears remained low to his head and the pounding in his head had not eased. His stomach still churned with anxiety, but at least he could breathe properly again.
"Now, if you would hop up onto the bed, Mr. Howlett, I will begin with my exam." Harry flinched at being called a Howlett. His ears remained low and held close to his cranium. Though nervous, Harry gingerly climbed back upon the white hospital bed. He sat with his legs hanging freely off the bed.
"Harry, I'm going to ask you to do a few things, like let me see your ears or to stick out your tongue. While I'm doing this, feel free to ask any questions you like. I'll answer them to the best of my ability. However, there are some things that I am not allowed to tell. So, if that happens, I'll have to tell you no and move on to another topic." The blue creature said calmly. He enunciated his words slowly and held an even, reassuring tone. Harry nodded and posed his first question.
"Who are you?" While there was no denying the creature's beastliness, Harry didn't feel right calling it a beast or creature. It reminded him too much of Professor Remus's situation. Though burdened with an animalistic appearance, the blue creature was obviously sentient and very intelligent. The blue beast blinked before chuckling bashfully.
"Oh, sorry. We haven't met face to face before now. I'm Hank McCoy. I serve as the resident doctor around here. If you ever catch a cold or something, feel free to come see me. Normally, I'm down here conducting physics experiments. Now, I'm going to take a look at your ears. If it hurts please tell me, though it should only tickle. I'm going to be looking for any damage of left over symptoms of your hypersensitivity. If you feel any pain at all, please let me know." Hank said as he picked up an odd-looking cylinder with a cone piece on the end. "This is called an otoscope. I'm just going to use it to peek inside your ear canals." Hank's voice was still steady and soothing as he shuffled closer. He gentle grasped Harry's left ear and pulled it away from his head. Then he used his hands to feel about the base. Harry's ears felt tender, like a bad bruise. Though the doctor was careful, Harry still grimaced at Hank's touch.
"Hmmm… There's a little bit of swelling here. I'll check on it again later, but it should go down soon." Hank muttered softly. Then, the blue doctor flicked on the otoscope's light and peered into Harry's ear. It wasn't painful, but it wasn't ticklish either. Instead, it was uncomfortable, and Harry had to fight not to reflexively draw away. Hank released a low hum as he lowered the otoscope and made a dew notes on his clipboard.
"Well, it looks like there was a little bleeding earlier, but that's dried up now. There is a significant bit of swelling but, again, that's pretty normal. It should abate within the next forty-eight hours. I'll check on it again in twelve hours to make sure its receding." Harry nodded as the doctor shifted to repeat the process with his right ear. Harry decided to pose his next question.
"You guys are the X-men? Like the terrorists on the television? You are all mutants?" Harry asked. Hank hummed and pursed his lips before writing something down on his clip board. He placed the otoscope on the table attached to the hospital bed. Then, the doctor focused his full attention on Harry.
"That depends on your point of view. Yes, we are most definitely mutants, and yes, we do go around dressed in ridiculous uniforms while calling ourselves X-men. As for the terrorists… it depends on your definition."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked as he tilted his head. A terrorist was a terrorist, wasn't it? Hank grabbed his blue stethoscope and moved behind Harry to place it on his back.
"For most people, terrorist means someone with a bomb or making threats against the government. However, the actual definition of terrorist is "a person who uses unlawful violence and intimidation, especially against civilians, in the pursuit of political aims". So technically, the term terrorist refers to anyone making a point to the government or ruling body using force, intimidation, or fear tactics on people. Most often, these tactics are used on people who can't fight back, like civilians. After all, it's a bit harder to murder a lot of people who have guns than it is to murder a lot of people who don't. That' why schools are such big targets. No one there can carry a weapon. Thus, when a terrorist or someone goes in with vile intent and a weapon they meet almost no opposition. And.." Hank caught Harry's bewildered look and blushed as he moved to listen to Harry's heart through his front.
"Er, sorry, got a little off topic there. Anyway, by definition, I suppose we are terrorists. However, we aren't targeting civilians with any fear tactics or violence. We do use violence though. Normally, it's on a mission, against trained MRD soldiers. So, I suppose that we do, technically, fall under the terrorist category. However, we don't target civilians and we don't kill. The worst anyone on this team has done is mindwipe someone, and that's only when necessary and only memories related to an ongoing mission. We plan each mission carefully, and our mission parameters change per mission. In these terms, we're more like a pacifistic special operations group or something. Long term, our goal is equality and peaceful relations between all humans; mutants and non-mutants. Now, can you breathe deeply and hold it for three seconds?" Hank asked as he began listening to Harry's lungs. He hummed and moved to the left lung. Harry breathed in again, held it, and let it out in another gust of air. Hank frowned.
"Can you do that again, please Harry?" Harry nodded and breathed deeply. This time when he let it whoosh out, Hank sighed and marked something on his clipboard. Then he laid the stethoscope aside to grab a silver flashlight. "Can you open your mouth for me? I need you to open it as wide as you can and stick your tongue out."
"So, you guys are but you aren't terrorists?" Harry asked confusedly as he complied with the doctor. He stuck his tongue out and watched in fascination as the blue man peered into his mouth.
"Somewhat? Technically yes, ideally no. We don't want to be seen as terrorists. The only reason we are seen as such is due to a faulty tip. We heard that a group of mutants were going to take out the senator. Despite his prejudices, Senator Kelly's death would not be morally correct nor ideal. His death could act like a war call to others like him and they could view him as a martyr. It would also prove to the populace that mutants are dangerous nutcases as well as willing to kill. It'd set off a wild fire of anti-mutant sentiment. Luckily or unluckily, the tip was false. Though the opposing group did send off a shot, it was only bait to set us up. We went in and there was not opponent for use to fight. Just a lot of cameras recording one of the more peaceful mutant groups attacking a US senator." Hank moved back from Harry and marked something down on his clipboard again. Harry wondered how much of the paper he had used. The doctor seemed to be writing a lot down.
"So, you were framed then." Harry stated. Now that the full story was coming to light, he felt a lot calmer. Hank was a relaxing person to talk to and seemed to know just the right thing to say to calm Harry down. Though it was kind of funny how he'd go off on political tangents every now and then.
"Yes, we were. I'm going to check your eyesight now. Can you take off your glasses and close one eye?"
"Sure. So what is the X-men's actual goal then? If you aren't taking down anti-mutant people, then what do you do?" Harry questioned as he grabbed his glasses and blinked his eyes at the fuzzy surroundings.
"Can you look at this finger for me?" Hank held up his pinkie finger and Harry focused on it. It was an indistinct blue blurb.
"Good." Hank flipped on the flashlight and peered at Harry's eye.
"It depends. Like I said, our missions differ from one another. Other eye." Harry closed both eyes before opening his right eye. "Our most recent mission was in Africa. A mind controlling spirit had taken possession of Ororo. She has the ability to control storms. Okay, can you keep your head still and follow my finger with your eyes for me?" Hanks asked as he turned off his flashlight. He set it aside and held up his pinky finger again.
"So, Professor Munroe is the reason Africa was hit by that freak storm?" Hank waved his hand up.
"The spirit made her think that the village was on fire. In order to put it out she quickly summoned all the rain that she could. Because of the spirit's influence, Ororo couldn't see the flooding or the damage she was doing. All she saw was that her home was burning away and nothing she could do was helping." Hank waved his hand down. Then he shoved it to the right and left.
"That sounds horrible." Harry shivered at the scenario. Being forced to hurt your family, while thinking you were helping them, sounded sick and twisted.
"It was. Thankfully, Frost, our resident telepath, was able to push the spirit out. After wards, Ororo stopped the rain and explained to her people what had happened. We left after that. Ororo stayed a few more days to pack and say good bye."
"So, she's a new member?" Harry put his glasses back on and blinked as the world came back into focus.
"Err, no. It's complicated." Hank grabbed a strange cuff with cords attached to it. He wrapped it around Harry's wrist. "This is a sphygmomanometer. It's going to check your blood pressure for me. In a minute, it's going to squeeze your arm a little, so don't be alarmed." Harry nodded as he looked at the sphygmo-whatsit in curiosity.
"Why's it complicated?" Harry asked absentmindedly.
"Well, she was a part of the original X-men and teaching staff under Professor Charles Xavier. She had taught for at least a decade I believe. The only reason she stopped was due to a horrible explosion that occurred on campus grounds. Someone targeted the original Xavier school, a place for children to learn, with some sort of bomb or explosive weapon about a year ago. It was horrible. Many of the students were injured alongside the staff. Both of our resident telepaths, Professor Xavier and Jean Gray, went missing. No one could find them. Both of the Professor and Jean were extremely important for both the school and the X-men." Harry continued to stare as the cuff began to tighten and exert pressure on his wrist. It wasn't painful, but it felt really weird.
"Without the Professor, there was no one to head the school or fund it. Without Jean, her fiancé, Scott Summers left. He was the current field leader of the X-men. Coupled with the destruction of the school, the lack of leadership caused parents to withdraw their children and for us adults to… well, fall apart. We all went our separate ways once the search was give up on." The cuff beeped, and Hank took a look at the reading. The doctor frowned and marked down something else on his sheet. Then he peeled the cuff from Harry's arm and stored it in an overhead cabinet.
"But how are you guys here now? And with the school?" Harry asked confusedly. Hank pulled out a folded contraption from one of the cabinets. He began setting it up while Harry watched in curiosity.
"Well, that's where your father comes in. For an entire year, we and all of our students scattered to the winds. Most of the students, if they had them, returned to their families. The other students also left and went on their way after a bit. I suppose they went back to whatever they were doing before Charles found them. We adults also went back to whatever we were doing before Xavier found us, well, if we could. I obviously can no longer teach the sciences at a public high school anymore. Scott was heartbroken when he couldn't find Jean. I believe he became a drunkard for a full year. There were many who returned to their lives before the school, however. Ororo returned to her home in Africa and had been using her powers to water her people's crops. Wolverine went back to wandering on his bike; going wherever the wind takes him. Bobby and Kitty returned to their respective parents and finished up their high school education. Forge… he never really had a normal. I believe he spent the year fixing up or inventing various contraptions. His life didn't really change, just his employer and company, I suppose." Hank finished setting up what Harry could now see was a scale as well as something to measure height.
"Now, could you come and stand on this scale. I'm going to take a look at your weight and height." Harry hopped off the bed and shuffled over to the scale reluctantly. No one ever liked how skinny he was, and while Harry didn't exactly like it either, he hated when people made a fuss about it. Didn't they know he was doing the best he could? Worrying over it wasn't going to help him gain any weight. Harry stepped onto the scale and squeezed his eyes shut. Hank took a peak at the results and gave a gusty sigh.
"This isn't exactly news to you either, huh?" He asked. Harry looked at him in surprise. Normally people fussed over his weight. They generally didn't react like Hank was.
"I've seen a lot of mutant kids, Harry. And while a portion of them have good, loving parents who don't care what their child technically is, there are a lot of parents that do. You aren't the first kid I've seen who hasn't been given enough to eat or flinches away from touch." Hank supplied after seeing Harry's surprised expression.
"I'm not?" Harry asked incredulously.
"Nope. Not by an unfortunate longshot. Stand straight please." Hank pulled out an extendable piece that was labeled with different units of height. Harry tried to read it, but realized that it was written in the American measuring system.
"You see, Harry, the purpose of the original X-men team wasn't about fighting the MRDs or pushing for mutant equality. Don't get me wrong, we did a lot of that. But, our main goal was to be a service to the school. During the day, we taught our students control over their powers and emotions as well as normal education. On various occasions one of us might go make a speech at a debate or provide supporting evidence. At night, we wore yellow suits to draw attention as we found and brought back gifted, mutant children in need of assistance and teaching. That was the original X-men's purpose. We looked for mutant children and invited them to our school. That is not to say we didn't do other things as, but our main purpose was and always will be the upbringing and protection of the next generation. That was Professor Charles's dream. He wanted a place for mutant children to learn that was safe and good for them. Though he wished the world would be that, he created the Xavier institute and the X-men to be that in the interim." Hank read the height from the scale and wrote it down on his board with another frown. Meanwhile, Harry was having his own little epiphany. These people were just like Hogwarts, except not so secret anymore. And kind of illegal but in a good way. Immediately, Harry felt more at ease. This place was no longer just a muggle school in his mind. It was a refuge for people!
"But what about now? How does L-Logan fit into all this? How did you guys band back together? Where's the professor and Ms. Grey?" Harry questioned. Hank sighed.
"The professor was discovered a week ago and brought back. Unfortunately, he remains in a coma. Jean's whereabouts and health are still unknown, though we are keeping a look out for her. And as for how we banded back together, well… we still have only a few of our original members. Currently, our X-men consists of myself, your father, Bobby, Kitty, Summers, Ororo, and Frost. Forge is a noncombatant normally, though he occasionally goes on stealth missions where technological know-how is needed. Many of the older team have drifted away and not been found, or refuse to return on account of Logan being the leader." Hank turned and gestured to the bed. Harry wandered over to it and yawned.
"Logan is the leader?" He questioned.
"He's the one who decided that the X-men were still needed. Logan got into some trouble and a family took him in while he was recovering. Unfortunately, the MRD took the family into intensive questioning after that. Logan took offense, came and requested my help, and then we busted them out together. After that incident, Logan decided enough was enough. Something had to be done before the world went crazy and the X-men were the only ones around to do it. So, he decided that he would lead us in pushing for mutant equality and peace while intervening for our fellow mutants. This X-men was created to perform illegal, dangerous, and clandestine missions. Again, it's more similar to a peace seeking black ops unit than anything else." Harry settled once more on the bed.
"Now, do you have any allergies or medicine preferences? I'm sure you have a pretty bad head ache right now that I'd love to help relieve." Hank asked with a lopsided smile.
"I-I don't think so. I've never had an allergy attack before."
"Good, I'll give you some Ibuprofen for now and the pain should be gone by tomorrow evening. Now, as for the results on this checkup. Your weight, as you assumed, is not where it should be. I'll be crafting a diet that will make it easier to gain a few pounds and prescribing a few shakes to take in between meals. I'm going to draw some blood once you're feeling better to see if you need any specific vitamins or minerals. I'm sure Kitty will enjoy the chance to go shopping for anything you need in terms of food. Unfortunately, there does seem to be some irregularity in your lungs which I will further diagnose and treat at a later date. It is of no grave importance as of tonight. I'll be setting up an appointment with an eye doctor for some time next week. As for your ears there is some swelling but that should abate in a few days and your hearing should be less sensitive to sudden sounds and certain pitches." Hank looked up from his clipboard to look Harry in the eyes. His face was serious.
"Now, your ears are obviously part of your mutation, but do you have anything else I should be aware of as your physician? Remember, anything you tell me is confidential to you, Logan as your father, and myself. If you don't wish it, it won't spread beyond Logan or myself. And Logan knows how to keep a secret. Anything you disclose will spread no further if you don't wish it to be known. However, that said, I do hope you don't feel the need to hide anymore, Harry. The institute was created for mutants to feel at home. There is no safe place in America for a mutant than here. We are all mutants, Harry. No matter what, no one will look at you any differently." Harry felt his heart beat race. His hands trembled. Slowly, not breaking eye contact, Harry reached behind himself and pulled out a sleek, oily and ill kept tail. Black like his ears, the tail had shown up with his ears one morning with no warning. Harry had rushed to a bathroom stall, locked the door, and had a panic attack when he discovered it. Now, he trembled as he held the appendage out for Hank to see.
Hank breathed deeply and smiled at Harry in acceptance. Harry took a deep breath and dropped his tail to begin working on his gloves.
"I-I woke up one morning with this and my ears. I've been hiding them till now. I can also… walk through shadows? I guess? When I step in a shadow I can go to any other nearby shadow so long as it's in a straight line. And then… And then there's this." Harry pulled his gloves off to reveal dried patches of blood dancing across his knuckles. Slowly, with a concentrated grimace and grit teeth, Harry clenched his palm's muscles in just a specific way. Haltingly and impossibly painfully, two bone white claws emerged from his clenched fists. The sharp blades extended about three inches from each hand before Harry could no longer take the pain. He gave a sharp gasp and allowed the fragments to sink back within his skin.
Hank's eyebrows rose and quickly grabbed some cotton ball pads and began wrapping the bloodied knuckled in gauze immediately. This went on for several minutes before Hank once more looked Harry in the eyes.
"Thank you for trusting me with this, Harry. I understand that it's hard to trust people, but I'm glad you're trusting in us. As for your mutation, I'll get a better look at it when I take a look at your DNA. I'll take an extra sample of blood when I draw in a few days. Though, I already have my suspicions on what I'll find. Logan has a similar mutation. You should ask him about it when you're ready. For now, however," Hank pulled a water bottle from a cabinet and a pill bottle from his lab coat. "Take these." Hank held out the water bottle and dumped out two pink pills from the orange pill bottle. Harry took them and threw back the pills before taking a few swigs of water to wash them down. His ears tilted down as he gave a jaw splitting yawn. Harry's eyes drooped and he could feel exhaustion creeping back into his thin frame. The load of information certainly didn't make it any easier. Harry felt as if his brain was on over load to try and make sense of everything.
"I can see you're tired, so I'll just leave you to get some rest. I'll be back in the morning with breakfast and another checkup for your ears. Good night, Harry."
[1] Poor naïve Harry. Mutations can do anything silly boy
So. I know I'm late. By, (If I look back at my dates on the Doc manager) about a week, give or take. However, I believe the sheer size of this chappie, totally makes up for it. (I impressed myself, my mother, my twin, and my dorm mates with this one). Also, (cue fireworks) I made it to 30,000 words. Yay!
Also, I'm sure I've already said this but I'm going to say it again. I have no clue what I'm doing. The only X-men exposure I've had would be the first movie, X-men: Evolution, and this series which was never finished due to no popularity (looking back, yeah... they could have done so much better with some of it). Ergo, any marvel knowledge is pulled from a mix of the two series, head canon, or various online sites and fandoms. If something's not right, feel free to point it out, just no cussing.
On other news... I'm sorry if I made some of you guys mad with my authors note last time. However, I will stand by what I said. I know some people commented on how I'm writing based on reviews. I'M NOT.
My writing will continue regardless of the amount of reviews I receive. I was just really stressed out about my history paper that was due that week and I was really disappointed at the 15 reviews/comments after I checked my traffic graph and saw over a thousand views in one day. Ya'lls reviews mean a lot to me. I'm not going to stop writing, but if I don't get reviews I'm left with thoughts like "Do they actually like it?" "Should I actually bother with spell check if nobody cares anyway?" and stuff like that. I was not posting that AN based on writing for reviews. I was seriously doubting whether any of ya'll really cared or appreciated how much work I put into writing this and if doing less would get the same results.
Anyway, I just wanted to apologize for upsetting anyone and explain my reasons behind saying all that stuff.
Moving on, one more chapter and this arc should be finished. After that I'm going to change my writing focus over to Moon Phased Wizard for a while. I'll keep writing this, but my main objective will be finishing the first arc of Moon Phased Wizard. Sorry, but I need to take a break to rewatch this series and plan the next arc after the next chapter. I'm going to try to have the next chapter out before spring semester and I'll probly begin writing the next arc by the time summer hits.
In the meantime, check out my other stories. Some need serious re-writes (hello, 15 yr old me), but the freshly updated ones should be worth your while.
Bye!