Scenes in the Darkness

Hank, Control

Charles flailed in his sleep, hands searching for her hand, coming up empty. He shot up, covered in cold sweat, breathing short.
Hank calmly bookmarked the place in his novel and handed him a cup of tea.
'Where is she?' he managed to croak out. 'She was here when I fell asleep.'
'I kicked her out' Hank didn't sound apologetic.
'What?' Charles pulled himself up with an effort. 'Why? I...'
Beast grinned and tapped his nose.
'You, Charles, are one stinky, filthy telepath. And I'm not risking Moira MacTaggert leaving us again because you decided to go medieval on your hygiene. You are lucky I can block my nose, or you'd have woken up quite alone.'
'I'm not...!' Charles started, but he caught the view of his t-shirt, badly stained with... stuff. 'Oh.'
'Yes, oh. Now you are off to bath and I'll air the room and strip the bed.'
'Hank?'
The young scientist raised blue brows.
'How long...?'
'It's been two weeks' was accompanied by a deep sigh. 'You've collapsed in your office and, from what I could see, had a seizure. The first thing I did was to bring you in here. I... I was worried' he sat on the edge of the bed. 'I couldn't call in any human doctor, and my expertise is more in organisms that fit in a test tube. I learned my lesson about healing actual real people, didn't I?' he smiled crookedly. 'You've had high temperature for a few days, and you were projecting random stuff all around the sleeping quarters. Fortunately the staff are more or less adjusted already. When I managed to get your temp down, we've kept your room darkened because you kept moaning each time you opened your eyes. I assumed you have headaches, so I...' he sighed. 'And then she came and organised everything properly.'
He nodded slowly, following Hank's recitation.
'Moira... She's well?' he asked finally, after a minute or two of silence.
Hank shrugged, fur on his arms making a gentle wave.
'I hope so. She says... she will probably tell you the whole story, but the long and short is she recalls most of what happened. That was kind of a surprise for me, because you've never told us she would lose her memories. I'm quite a bit angry with you for that, you know.'
He rubbed his face tiredly.
'I do, Hank, I do. I really hope she gives me a chance to grovel properly. Last time I saw her I managed to touch her and fall asleep the same second.'
'And I thought I was awkward... Well. Professor. You are now off to the bathroom, and if I have to carry you, I will.'
He hastily drew up on his hands and, using the bar on the wall, switched to the wheelchair. Stripping the t-shirt off and throwing it in the laundry basket was a matter of seconds and he felt better already. Pants and socks were, of course, a bit more difficult, but after all these months he had significant amount of practice.
From the bedroom he heard Hank wrestling with the bed covers and felt a pang of conscience about having one of his students - friends - take care of his room, and specifically bed. Until now he managed it all himself, with a bit of hard work, but without having to ask any of his friends for assistance.
'I'm thinking we should get some household staff' he suggested, soaping his face. 'I'm quite sure there are some mutants out there that would like a pleasant, quiet job like this.'
'Pleasant' Hank scoffed.
'Quiet. It will be only us and more kids. No wild parties, no guests, no big things to clean after.'
He put away the razor, washed off the remnants of the soap and regarded himself in the mirror. He had certainly changed since that evening in the pub. Much more muscle up here he kneaded his now well-sculpted arm and much less down there he glanced at his thinning legs in dismay. Can't be helped. I just hope she...
'You ok there, Charles?' Hank knocked on the door frame.
'Yes, yes. Everything is perfect. Just daydreaming, I guess.'
He wheeled himself over to the tub.
'Call me if you need anything.'
The tub was a custom-made marvel of construction, all according to his exact specifications. Edges slightly lower than the norm to enable him to get in and out with minimum effort, handles and bars built into the wall by his friends, even holders for soap and shampoo were affixed in easy to reach places.
He washed quickly, paying attention to his hair, which - he had to admit - was becoming rather grimy, and hoped quietly that Moira would be coming back soon as he was becoming quite sleepy. He tried rising to the chair, but his arms wobbled suddenly.
'Ah, Hank?'
'Charles?'
'Would you be so kind as to give me a hand? I'd need the towel I've left by the sink, too.'
The younger man entered awkwardly and handed him the required object.
'Now, please, take another one from the shelf to your left an spread it on the wheelchair. And' he steeled himself 'if you could assist me with getting out of here...'
Hank sighed and approached the tub, exhaling in relief when he saw Charles already wrapped in a towel.

'I've really let myself go soft, haven't I?' the older man said sadly, grabbing another towel and drying his hair vigorously with it, then leaned back in the wheelchair.
'We could probably set up some exercise area for you' Hank suggested uncertainly. 'You'd be able to build up more muscle that way.'
He started to protest, but one look at the bed stopped him. If he ever wanted to...
'Actually I think it's a brilliant idea, my friend. I think we still have a few unused rooms on the ground floor. We could convert the small sitting room, and the closet next to it could serve as bathroom. Could you ask Alex to help you with clearing it out? Everything should go to the attic and then we can order some carpeting, benches, weights, racks and so on. And call a plumber to make measurements for the showers, and ask who could make stalls.'
He switched from the chair to the bed.
'We could buy some more small equipment, and something to use outside, too. After all, everyone should exercise and simple running is not enough. Maybe, well, bikes? Jumping ropes? That thing with springs that you have to stretch? Footballs? Would any of you want to play cricket?'
A wide yawn split his face.
'We'll look into it tomorrow, Professor. Now, I think I should go and look for Miss Moira.'
Hank's stern voice was contradicted by his slight smile.
'You do that' Charles yawned again. 'You... make sure she has anything she needs. Is there a room free somewhere nearby? She could put all her things...' he mumbled, drifting away.
'Don't worry' Hank smiled, turning off the lights. 'She is just next door.'