So I was less than satisfied with the original ending and decided to give it another go. This chapter will be followed by a final chapter. I am quite pleased with this ending and hopefully you will be as well!
Jenna had not moved in days.
She had woken on a submarine and begun fighting tooth and nail to get free and find Hank. It took a powerful telepathic blow from Monet to convince her that this was real and that she was safe.
She had fallen to the floor gasping for air in the small space. Her leg ached and would not support her weight though she only realized this now. After living almost feral for so long the tiny space of the sub felt like a trap. But her team had been there to comfort her, as much as they could.
It had turned out her ankle was broken and she had been given a cast. From that point on, Jenna had refused to talk, had gone mute. She had been led to see Hank and there she stayed, staring at him as if she could will him back to life.
She knew she was responsible for the state he was now in. Tubes snaked all throughout his body and his skin was badly burned across his back. A healing transfusion was promised when they got back to the mansion but for now Emma and Banshee fought to keep him stable.
Jono kept a close eye on her. The first time there had been no one paying attention to her, she had locked herself in the bathroom and shaved her head bald, cutting off a foot and a half of hair.
Since she refused to talk or respond in any way, Skin visited and told her of how they had discovered she and Hank were gone, the search, and eventual discovery.
Of all people, Quentin Quire had realized something was wrong first. When Jenna did not show for class, he had scanned looking for her. Drawing a blank and knowing that she was unlikely to just go out without telling anyone, he looked for Hank, who seemed to have begun taking a liking to her. Nothing as well. When Logan was alerted to this, everything was thrown into high alert. Magneto insisted he had nothing to do with Jenna's disappearance and telepaths confirmed this.
Hank's list of potential enemies was far longer and took far more time to comb through. Security footage of the school finally revealed the attacker, thought it had taken time to even find where they had been when they disappeared.
Realizing that Danger had taken them, Emma was dedicated to sweeping with Cerebro while others tried contacts they knew. Emma had eventually located them in a Danger Room like dome deep in the ocean. The X-men knew they would be able to reach them eventually, but a sub had to be made that would fit a team and hold up to the pressure of somewhere that deep.
All of this had taken roughly six months.
Six months Jenna and Hank had been missing. Six months they had been fighting to survive. Had the X-men arrived any later, they would both be dead.
Her head had titled toward her arm. The tally marks lined it from elbow to wrist and back several times. It had felt so much longer. It had been a lifetime.
They reached land after three days in the submarine. Jenna had to be carried out after refusing to eat since they had found her. As Jono pulled her close in his arms, he could almost feel his non-existent heart breaking. She was way too thin and she would die if they could not save Hank. She would die because they could not save Hank.
Logan met them with the jet and within an hour of arrival, Hank lay on a bed in the labs, receiving a blood transfusion from Warren.
Jenna fought to keep herself upright as she stroked his hair, pushing it out of his face. It was burned nearly off, the long hair almost gone. She watched with baited breath as his face took on color and the skin of his back mended. Fur began to regrow as she watched. Logan caught her deftly as she toppled out of her chair, fainting with exhaustion and relief.
Hank woke realizing that he could not move his arms, and panic flooded through him. He tried to lurch upright but was held tightly to the bed he lay on facedown. Roaring in fury brought running people and yelling.
"Hank! You're safe, Hank! You have to breathe!"
Kitty was beside him, soothing him and staring into his face with wild concern. He stopped roaring, panting as the strength of his anger left him.
"Where is Jenna?"
"She's here! We're bringing her right now."
He twisted his head as far as he could, watching Jenna being rushed into the room in a wheelchair, her leg in a cast. Guilt flooded through him and his back hurt terribly as he tried to push himself up from the bed.
Jenna was with him, her hands on his face and arms in moments. The range of emotions that ran wild across her features brought tears to his eyes.
"It's you…" he breathed, relaxing his muscles at last.
"It's me…" She blinked and fat tears rolled down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry…"
"It wasn't you. It wasn't you," he soothed.
"I'm going to take off the restraints," she murmured, "but you have to stay down. Your back…"
He nodded and felt her freeing his arms and legs and shoulders. He reached out and found her hand, so familiar and yet so alien in this place.
She could feel it too. He saw in her eyes the uncertainty and discomfort. How could they move forward from this? They had been kidnapped, imprisoned, tortured for half of a year with only one another for help or company. What future could there be for either of them, or for them as a couple?
"Can you leave us?" Hank asked no one in particular, his voice raw.
The room cleared out with impressive speed.
The first thing Hank did was to break his promise and turn onto his side.
"Henry! You need —"
"You. Here. Please…"
Without hesitation, Jenna pushed herself onto the bed and curled up against his familiar bulk.
It was the first time her heart stopped hurting since she had woken on that submarine.
"I haven't told anyone anything. They don't know what happened to us. They found us after the explosion and didn't really see much."
Beast did not know if he was relieved or upset.
Jenna continued, "I don't know how to tell them. How do you explain…?"
"You don't," Hank said. "They don't have any right to know."
Jenna pressed herself more tightly to him. "Thank you."
"Jenna…"
She looked up, genuinely surprised to see the look he was giving her. "What is it?"
"I can't bear to be without you. I know that here we were never close, but I don't know what I would do…"
Jenna stopped him with a kiss, lurching upward to press her lips to his. Hank remembered Bluebeard's castle as their tongues tangled, now in a similar state of willingness but disrepair. He broke away, pressing her forehead to hers.
"We'll figure this out. We'll be okay."
But being okay was beyond their reach. Their nerves were shattered, they both suffered from severe PTSD, and they struggled to fit back into the flow of the school.
This was made clear the first time that someone startled Jenna. She had been reading in the library and had not heard Jono's approach. He had laid a hand on her shoulder and she had screamed with everything in her. Hearing her from Logan's office, Hank had ripped through halls, doors, and very nearly some people to get to her. Jono had been thrown through a bookcase for holding her shoulders and trying to calm her. It had taken half an hour to calm them and longer for them to unwind.
The other mutants were afraid of them and with good reason. Upsetting or frightening either of them resulted in epic meltdowns and a potential violence. And it was not simply what one said or did that would set one or the other off; scents and sounds and comments would trigger them. Jenna and Hank had refused outright to take any part in a midsummer bonfire, citing the smell of woodsmoke. The smell of roast chicken sent Jenna running, and the sound of crows made the fur on Hank's spine stand up.
They looked like they had survived a death camp, alarmingly thin and hollow eyed. Alarming scars laced their bodies, which were on display in the heat of the summer. But since neither were willing to talk about what had happened to them, everyone struggled to understand.
They lived together and struggled to function when they were apart. After a month of this, Jenna was becoming desperate.
Hank found her curled up in the closet with tears pouring down her face. He carried her gently to the bed and held her tightly against him, folding his legs around her. He didn't ask her what it was; he knew full well since he lived the same torment.
"I nearly killed myself," she finally whispered. "Just to make it end."
Hank tilted her to him, staring into her face with horror.
"You can't leave me here. That would be too cruel."
"I know. But I can't go on like this."
Beast nodded, brushing her hair out of her face tenderly. "What if we could erase what happened?"
"What do you mean?"
"Telepaths have done it before. And while Quire is not trustworthy, he is an Omega level telepath. We could forget."
"But what if we forgot too much…?"
Hank had no answer for that. He didn't want to lose her, but maybe it would be better. Maybe if they could move forward it wouldn't matter.
"Wait, you want me to do what?"
Jenna narrowed her eyes and Quentin turned down the attitude.
"We want you to erase our memories," Jenna said icily. "I am not sure how long I can live like this."
Quentin's eyes widened. He of all people knew how much she meant what she was saying; the longer he lived at the school the more he tried to respect the minds of others, but he could not help knowing certain base level things about people.
"You realize that erasing memories is pretty much the most off limits thing I could do, right?"
"And you've cared since when?"
Quire ran a hand through his pink hair. "Listen, if I messed up, you guys could be vegetables. I could kill you."
"But you won't," broke in Hank, "because we all know that you are far more skilled than some might realize."
Quentin could sense his desperation beneath the flattery and that was really what swayed him. Two teachers — Hank McCoy, one of the greatest mutants living, being one of them — were half begging him to help them and beneath it all was a trauma that would break them.
"Alright. You need to take a day at least." Quentin could not believe he was even having this conversation where he was the responsible one, but they reluctantly agreed.
As Hank and Jenna wandered out into the lawn, reveling in the warmth of the late summer. Their hands drifted together, fingers entwining. When they reached the trees at the end of the lawn they kept walking, out through the trees until they reached a clearing.
"Are you sure?" Hank asked, facing Jenna and taking her other hand in his.
"I am. I don't want to lose you, but… "
He looked down at her and felt his heart crack a little more to see tears yet again running down her hollow cheeks. She did not deserve this. She had been kidnapped and tortured for his mistakes and his errors.
Hank hung his head, tears pooling in his blue eyes. "You should never have met me… You would have never had to face all this."
Jenna did not know what to say to that. She was better off with Hank than she had been at any other point in her life. So to fill in for the lack of words, she pulled his face to hers, pressing her lips to his.
While they had kissed and shared a bed, they had not truly been intimate since their rescue. Now, facing the reality of a life apart, this kiss sparked a fire between them.
Hank felt her hands tugging at the hem of his shirt and then felt his body tighten as her hands moved up over his stomach and chest. In response, Jenna felt his grip tighten on her waist.
"You know I love you, right?" Hank almost purred at her as she pulled his shirt over his head.
"You've mentioned it," she gasped breathily as he planted kisses on her exposed neck and collarbones. "I love you too."
Hank pulled her camisole over her head and tossed it aside as she worked to get him out of his pants.
"Surely," he breathed as their naked bodies pressed together, "we will find each other on the other side."
"I hope so…" Jenna replied, pulling his mouth to hers.
As his lips drifted to her chest and stomach, Jenna could not help but watch him with a new appreciation. She could see him, she knew him, and they were safe here. For a moment, she was struck with the thought that maybe this should be enough. Maybe he should be enough. But she knew that there was no future for them here like this. Parts of them had died in that dome beneath the sea and there was not enough left of them to give.
Hank felt her pull him toward her, felt her guiding him inside of her. He did not want to lose this, this intimacy that meant she looked him in the eye as he moved within her. That she cried out with pure abandon. But he knew that she would have never given herself to him like this in the mansion, that their relationship had been forged on a muddy floor in a woods and that was all it was suited for. It was withering away with or without the memories of what had happened to them.
This bliss and passion was all either of them wanted and what neither of them was able to give. Only now, on the edge of losing it all, could they find it in themselves to ignite it one last time.