A/N: Happy new year everyone!
Carly had no idea what was going on. Hank obviously knew the man who had broken the window, but Carly had no idea who he was beyond the brief introduction that Hank had given her. She couldn't believe that he thought that would satisfy her, but it was apparent that they didn't have time for long explanations.
She knew that, for the stage in their relationship, she knew very little about his past. Embarressingly she hadn't really thought about it until she'd seen Alex. Carly knew him, knew his likes and dislikes, his morals, his sense of humor, everything about him. However, she knew nothing of his home life beyond a few scraps, and there was a ten year period that he only ever lightly touched on.
When she reached the examination room she had to stop for a minute. Alex was still there, but he had been joined by five teenagers, all scattered in various locations around the room. All of them wore black and yellow uniforms, red and black X's emblazoned on their shoulders and belts.
One of the teens stood in the corner, his eyes wide and his hands limp by his side. White feathery wings sprouted from his back, tucked in tightly. A girl stood by his side, her skin a bubblegum pink and her hair matching. Another girl was giving her support, her skin dark and her hair pure white.
A girl with red hair stood near the examination table, looking as though she were on the verge of all-out panic. The boy on it looked young, his eyes concealed by goggles with thick red glass. Sweat trickled down his face, mingling with the dried blood there. Alex stood by Hank, murmuring things.
Carly swallowed and stepped into the room.
"Hank," she said.
Hank turned, as did several of the teens. They eyed her suspiciously and Alex waved his hand.
"Hank says she's fine," he said.
They relaxed, but not by much. Carly still had the feeling that they were sizing her up, looking for a way to put her down if necessary. Hank took the medical bag from her, giving her a grateful look. She smiled, although the only thing that she really felt was a strange sense of surrealty at the situation.
Hank turned back to the teen on the table. Carly didn't know if she should go or stay. If Hank needed something then she was the only person who would be able to find it. At the same time she knew that the room was getting crowded. She was surprised that he hadn't already banished the surplus of people out of the room.
He opened the bag and picked out a syringe full of anesthetic and injected it into the boy's arm. Hank's eyes flickered towards the red-headed girl, who nodded back. Carly watched as the teen laid his head back, but she couldn't see just when his eyes closed. The goggles made it impossible.
"You were right Alex," Hank said, moving the boy's hands and looking at the wound, "It went deep. Black Tom?"
"Black Tom," Alex said, "He carries a knife too it looks like. Cyclops knocked the shillelagh out of his hand or you'd be treating a burn victim."
Hank nodded.
"I don't think it hit anything too major, but he did nip several arteries and his intestines are damaged."
Hank wiped his brow. His voice rang with authority and Carly thought of his previous job, the one that he had never really told her about. It had been serious, had involved situations and procedures that were far beyond anything that she had ever seen him do in the surgical theater. Perhaps this was it.
"He didn't puncture the stomach wall though, so none of the bile is leaking through," Hank said, "We have that to be thankful for."
"Is he going to be alright?" Alex asked.
Hank paused, still working on the damage.
"His chances are about even right now, but they are improving," Hank said.
The red-headed girl bit her lip.
"It's my fault," she said, "If I had moved faster than he wouldn't have-"
"Marvel Girl, stop," Alex said.
His voice was acidic. Marvel Girl looked up at him, tears in her eyes.
"But if I'd-" she said.
"But you didn't," Alex said, "And he moved because of that, and he got injured. You are not allowed to get upset, you are not allowed to let yourself think about it anymore, and you are damn well not allowed to panic. That was the past, this is the present. So leave the 'what-ifs' for the Danger Room or I'll have Blink take you back to the Blackbird. Is that understood?"
Carly frowned as Marvel Girl nodded, tears in her eyes. Hank didn't even look up at the exchange.
"He's lost a lot of blood," he said, "Anyone a match?"
Alex shook his head.
"I already asked," he said, "Don't you have any spare-?"
"It's okay," Carly said.
Alex turned to her, his eyebrows raised.
"I'm type O," she said.
Hank looked over his shoulder at her, his eyes full of worry.
"I…" he said.
Carly tilted her head back. He sighed.
"Marvel, I'd like you to start up a blood transfusion between Carly and Cyclops. We need to start immediately so his body doesn't go into shock," he said, "Also, an IV drip would be good too."
Marvel Girl hesitated, clearly unwilling to leave Cyclops's side.
"You heard him!" Alex snapped.
Marvel Girl nodded and stepped away from the table. Carly walked over to them, standing across from them. Marvel Girl waved her hand and a chair from the corner of the room moved towards them. Carly stared at it before sitting down. It had been obvious that the teenagers were mutants, she just supposed that she hadn't thought too much about it all.
"And I know this is tough," Hank said, "but everyone not doing something should leave right now. It's too crowded in here; everyone is blocking up the light and creating a stuffy atmosphere."
He shook his head.
"I've let you stay for too long already."
She saw the looks that passed through the room. Alex put his hand on Hank's shoulder, his eyes hard.
"You know what you're doing," he said.
There seemed to be something deep and bubbling beneath his words. Hank nodded and Alex left the room. The rest of the teens followed, their eyes straying back to Cyclops. The girl with the white hair continued to help the pink girl walk, her own footsteps slow. Carly saw what she thought was a quiver of pink crystals on the pink girl's back before the door closed.
As Marvel Girl inserted the needle in her veins Carly looked at Hank. His head was bent down, his eyes focused. She had never seen him so clam, so intense. It was like she was looking at someone different, a man who had performed the type of surgery he was doing now a million times before.
Carly felt her heart turn in her chest. She wondered just how much it was that she really knew about Hank.
Scott was a mess. Black Tom had clearly been going for the killing blow when he attacked Alex's brother. Having Black Tom hurt Scott would probably make him a lifetime enemy of Alex. He was already on Alex's black list for what had happened with Sean and being a member of the Brotherhood. However, if Alex ever got his hands on him now then Hank doubted he would turn him over to Sean. Not for a few hours anyway.
Of course, from Jean's broken words, Black Tom had been going after the telepath instead. It made sense really, especially if Emma had been there. He couldn't help trying to visualize the fight. Perhaps Azazel had been there too, which might explain the limited amount of time Jean had to act before Black Tom appeared before her.
From what Hank remembered Clarice was the one that they usually tried to throw Azazel's way; he had a difficult time resisting the challenge of fighting another teleporter. They'd all figured this out quickly, and Hank had tried to impart to Clarice what he knew about fighting Azazel. She was still alive, so it must have taken.
Hank began to stitch Scott up, the delicate tissue repaired. He continued to use disinfectant; having that wound get infected would be a nightmare. The wound was, in and of itself, already a nightmare, but not an unfamiliar one. Alex had always been a major target when they were younger, his mutation capable of taking out multiple targets at once. This had led to some terrible wounds.
He supposed that Scott was going to have the same problem. Ororo and Scott were the real power houses of the new team, and that sort of thing drew attention. It was especially bad when they were doing a mission so far from New York. He believed that the Brotherhood was doing it on purpose.
If they hadn't been able to make it to Hank then he had no doubt that Scott would've died en route to the next place. Jean had medical training, more than the basic first aide they gave all of the X-men, and that was probably the only reason he'd made it as far as he had. Scott's injuries were far beyond her capabilities though, which was why they'd had to make do.
However, it was also clear that Jean was on the verge of hysteria. At seventeen she hadn't perfected the calm detachment needed to deal with these situations. Hank didn't blame her; it had taken him years. Jean wasn't the only one in the new wave of X-men who hadn't perfected it either. None of them had. He figured that Scott and Clarice were the closest to doing so, but he could still see the shock pattern etched in Clarice's eyes, and Scott's attitude was irrelevant at the time.
It was why Alex was still with the small group. In many ways Alex was the perfect X-man. He knew that Alex had rebelled against the idea of leaving his wounded brother in surgery, but he had gritted his teeth and borne it. He'd had time getting used to leaving the room on one of the few occasions that Sean had been injured. He understood the reason and knew he had to act upon it. The younger X-men still didn't. They still needed supervision.
Hank finished stitching up Scott. From across the room he saw Carly lean back in her chair, the blood transfusion leaving her weak. He turned back to his work, trying not to think about the repercussions that the events of the night would have on their relationship. Hank hadn't lied to her, but he knew that there was little difference between lying and keeping the truth from someone.
He washed his hands and walked over to Carly. Jean was still near her, finishing bandaging up her arm where she'd given blood. He cleared his throat.
"Carly, are you alright?" he asked.
"I'm fine," she said.
Her voice was shaky. Hank looked at Jean, who gave him a confused look in return. He wanted her to leave, but he didn't know how to ask her to leave her wounded boyfriend. It wasn't the type of thing that they taught in medical school, and it wasn't something that he had mastered from the X-men.
"Marvel Girl," Hank said, "It might be better if you give us a few minutes."
Jean paused, her eyes drifting over to Scott.
"Aren't you going to tell his brother how he's doing?" she asked.
Her voice was almost desperate. Hank rubbed his temples. Despite the fact that it was a blatant attempt for him to allow her to stay in the room, she was right. Alex would want a full status report of how his brother was doing, and then he would be able to brief the team. They were probably shook up already.
"I suppose so," he said.
Jean smiled. Carly inclined her head towards the door.
"We can talk when you get back," she said.
Hank forced a smile onto his face. Choosing to ignore Jean's presence he reached out and cupped her face. She smiled back.
"I'll be waiting," she said.
She didn't sound angry; merely confused and perhaps sad. It hurt him that she felt that way, but it was better than the alternative. Hank wondered why he thought she would be angry. Carly was too kind and gentle. She would give him a chance to explain what was going on, and Hank couldn't help but be grateful for that.
As he left the room Hank vowed that he would tell her everything, every last solitary scrap of information about his time as an X-men. He would tell her about Cuba and beyond, to the point where she might not believe him. He would show her photographs; tell her the absolute truth as he understood it.
After everything that she had done for him, she deserved the truth.