Until the End: Dreams & visions of an undeniable future lead two women on the adventure of a lifetime. Together, they hope to somehow prevent the upcoming tragedy that could leave the entire world in disarray. OC Alert!
XoXoX
"There is an immeasurable distance between late and too late." - Og Mandino
Until the End
Chapter Twenty-Five
-Alexa-
"Leave me alone."
I could barely breathe, and the world seemed as though it were slightly tilted the wrong way. Everywhere I went, every single room that I entered, people both familiar and strange greeted me. They grouped together like schools of fish, like pods of whales that were unable to part in fear of having to deal with the tragedy alone. It made me claustrophobic seeing so many people grouped together, lounging closely on couches or bent over makeshift tables together, their shoulders hunched.
Eyes followed me everywhere I went, and I couldn't escape them.
The moment I'd stepped foot on the Helicarrier, I'd been escorted to my quarters in order to change. A shower was in order, I knew, if only to clear my head. And yet, as I'd stripped numbly from the borrowed clothing, I couldn't get my brain to stop cranking. It was like an out-of-body experience, watching myself shower and change and primp. It was like feeling a strangers hands comb through my hair and pull on socks and shoes.
"Alexa, please."
They followed me everywhere. The moment I'd left my room they'd pounced, tears streaming down their faces. But, I felt so distant, so detached. I felt no empathy for the people that surrounded me, for the people that looked toward me for answers, some solution. No words would fix the things that had been done.
I can't fix this.
"I wanted to see you before they take us back home, Lex," a familiar voice cut through the proverbial fog that I'd erected around myself. Almost blindly, I sought her face amidst the sea of strangers, lips quirked in an attempt at a smile as my gaze rested on her battered form. "I know that this isn't the time or the place for a reunion, not under these circumstances. But, I do want you to know that I'm still pissed that you disappeared, and even more pissed by the fact that you didn't bother to contact us. It was so selfish."
Properly chastised, I took a full step back and stared at the familiar figure in front of me. Her eyes matched mine, and yet the rest of her seemed so different, so foreign. "Maddy, I'm sorry," the words sounded rehearsed, phony to my own ears.
She lifted a hand promptly, cutting me off as she shook her head. "This isn't the time or the place, Lex, but I know you're sorry." She sighed, folding her hands together in front of her as her eyes searched mine. "I know that this has to be hard on you; I can only imagine. I- I just wanted to let you know that you're not the only one that's worried about her. When I saw her come through those Cafeteria doors..." she trailed off, tears welling up in her chocolate eyes. "She's like a sister to me, and if I didn't have to leave, I would be at her bedside right now."
"Is that all?" I managed, lips trembling as I fought back more tears. "Anymore guilt?" Her lips thinned, and I expected a quick retort. Instead, she was dragged away by a battered and bruised Hayley, who spared merely a smile and a wave in my direction.
"Alexa, would you kindly please stop ignoring me?"
I whipped around angrily, hands balled into fists at my sides. The same voice, the same figure, that had been following me since I'd left my quarters towered over me, and yet I felt sure that I could knock him on his ass with complete and utter ease. "Hank, I'm really not in the mood for any of your poetic bullsh-"
"On the contrary," he interrupted, twirling me around and guiding me from the room with ease. "I am here to escort you to Robyn's room, my dear. Now, I know that you must be worried sick, and I do apologize for the large number of people that seem to be parading about. I'm afraid that the number of survivors taken from the school required that they await news here aboard the Helicarrier. Not that Colonel Fury is too pleased..."
"Where are we going?" I asked, tugging away from him as he led me down a series of corridors that were completely unfamiliar. "Hank, where the hell are we going? Where's Robyn?"
"She's in the Medical Bay," he explained sharply, urging me forward a bit more forcefully than before. "Alexa, pull yourself together! Reverse your positions! Do you honestly think that Robyn would be acting out like this? For Heaven's sake! You are a grown woman!" He sighed loudly as he stopped in the middle of the corridor, his face drawn tight in exhaustion.
His words pierced me in the heart and I realized that he was completely right. I'd been acting like a spoiled child. "You're right. I'm sorry," I found myself murmuring gently as the pain and grief began to seep through the facade that I'd hurriedly thrown up. "It's just so overwhelming, Hank. I need to see her, I need to understand, but-" I trailed off, unable to articulate how utterly lost and confused I felt.
His presence was comforting, and I found myself moving along beside him with a confidence I didn't truly felt. The minutes ticked away quickly, and before I knew it, we were standing in a long hallway that smelled strongly of Lysol, infection, and death.
My stomach churned immediately, whipping me forward to brace my hands on my knees as I kept my head between my legs. Images and memories of a time long past swept through my mind in the blink of an eye. Hank's hands were warm on my shoulders as he urged me upright, murmuring encouragement as I righted myself, lips quivering and heart thudding wildly in my chest.
Doctors in white lab coats and nurses donned in dark blue scrubs seemed to be stuck in an endless sea of movement. Clipboards were passed, jokes were shared, and orders were given. It seemed too surreal, too completely normal. And yet, as I spotted the large gathering of people positioned outside of the room at the far end of the hall, dread rocked me from my head to my toes.
Charles Xavier sat like a sentinel outside of the door, his elbows resting on his knees as he talked in quiet tones to the people arranged in the uncomfortable chairs around him. Logan, unlit cigar in his mouth, stood opposite the door, his back braced against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, and a black Stetson drawn low over his eyes. Scott sat near Xavier, his hands clasped together and his eyes cast downward, and Ororo sat to his left, a mug of what appeared to be coffee in her hands.
"In here." Hank tugged me to the side suddenly, pulling me into a small room that was comprised of several large cabinets and a number of large sinks. He nudged me toward the sink and quickly followed suit, thoroughly washing his hands before drying them and tugging on a plain white gown that he didn't bother to tie. Numbly, I let him help me put one on before I followed him out of the room to stand in front of the others. "Charles, give us a few moments, please."
Xavier was out of the way suddenly, and the door was swinging open. The smell hit my nostrils and I nearly vomited, wringing my wrist out of Hank's grasp as I searched for an escape. He wouldn't let go, though, and I found myself being dragged unwillingly into a large hospital room.
One that housed my best friend.
The machines drew my gaze first. There are so many. Some seemed tall and large, like they could swallow up an entire room if you weren't careful. Others were short and pudgy, and almost looked useless. I recognized a number of them, and I let my eyes skim over her stats, racking my brain to remember what constituted good blood pressure. But, it was the sound of the ventilator that made my skin stand on edge, made my entire body nervous as I forced myself to look at her.
A bright purple blanket, one that clearly did not originally belong in the SHIELD hospital, covered her from mid-chest down. An iv was inserted in her hand, marring her delicate features. A number of objects, cords or lines of some sort, ran under the blanket and into her chest, no doubt monitors of some sort. I let my gaze crawl up her body, lips trembling and tears swelling in my eyes as the tube caught my eye.
"The ventilator is to make this easier for her," Hank assured me, his voice barely a whisper above the soft hums and beeps of the machines surrounding her. "This machine breathes for her, taking the strain away. That's all."
Shakily, I reached out, fingers trailing over her still face. "Is she in pain?" I found myself asking, drawing back my hand as I stood at her bedside, torn between fleeing the room and crawling into the bed and curling up beside her.
"Robyn initially suffered from two bullet wounds," he explained, his voice taking on the tone of a medical professional. "A bullet grazed her side and her wrist, but merely irritated her skin. One struck her in the chest and ricocheted off of her ribs, doing a significant amount of damage. You see, a great deal of bone fragments basically imploded inwardly, nicking her heart and several other vital organs." He paused and I numbly fell into the chair that he pushed near me, ignorant of his hand on my shoulder as I stared blankly at the figure of my best friend in the hospital bed. "The third shot was originally thought to be less damaging. However, we quickly learned that the bullet had grazed her spine. Through tests and scans we- Well, we've ascertained that if, when she awakens, she'll be paralyzed from the waist down."
I couldn't save her.
Bile rose in my throat, but I swallowed it down, unwilling to let my own worry and fear get the best of me. I was the one that was unharmed, that was breathing of her own accord. The least I could do was be strong for my best friend.
"What does it all boil down to?"
"It means," he began, sighing as he dropped onto a chair next to me, his back facing the hospital bed. "It means a number of things, I suppose you could say. The good news is that the doctors have successfully stopped the internal bleeding. Our greatest fear at this point in time is the risk of infection, but they've started her on antibiotics and mild blood thinners to ensure that things are as smooth as possible. But, after her last surgery, she flat-lined, Alexa."
Alarmed and confused, I jerked my attention upwards, staring evenly at her unmoving form. But she's alive, isn't she? I asked myself, filled with confusion.
"While the doctors fought to resuscitate her, her brain was without oxygen for nearly ten minutes. We've done a number of MRIs, but we are afraid that even if, when she comes out of the coma, there's an almost definite chance that she'll be severely handicapped. Both her parietal lobe and her occipital lobe appear to have suffered at least some damage. Likely, she suffered a stroke when she flat lined, but we have no way to be sure."
The machines hummed quietly as I sat there, hands laced together and tears slowly streaking down my face. I felt so lost and alone, and it left me feeling so completely vulnerable and afraid. "So that's it?" I found myself asking, my chest constricting tightly. "We just wait for her to wake up, if she does, that is. And then there's the fact that she'll probably never walk again, and she probably won't even remember me, or her name, or how to do anything. You're telling me that's it? I'm just supposed to sit here, nod my head, and say 'Okay, Hank. Well, let's go get a bite to eat and wait her out."? No. No, Hank. There's got to be another option!"
The sound of the door opening silently caused me to look over my shoulder and glare daggers at the invader. Standing tall and proud in his ever-constant black and blue uniform, Colonel Nick Fury certainly was not a sight for sore eyes. "Michaels," he muttered as he nodded his head toward me, motioning at the same time for the string of doctors behind him to enter the room.
"Get out!" I shouted as I stood, turning and blocking the bed with my arms. "Just give me a few fucking minutes, would you, you inconsiderate pricks!"
Fury, the doctors, and even Hank were completely silent for a long moment. The sound of a quiet motor whirring drew my attention to the doorway yet again as Charles Xavier entered the room, a contemplative expression upon his face. "They mean you, and certainly Robyn, no harm," he tried to calm me down. "Colonel Fury here has something that he wishes to discuss with you, Alexa. I know that-"
"You know nothing!"
Chest heaving, I fought to remain in control as the loose objects in the room, a chair, a magazine, even a doctor's stethoscope, began to rise into the air slowly. Forcing my eyes closed, I sucked in a deep breath and shoved the grief down into a bit to later be examined rather than let it out and risk harming people. When I opened my eyes, they were all staring at me, waiting.
"What I do know is that I'm a man of my word, and I assured her," Fury jerked his head in the direction of the bed behind me, "and you that SHIELD took care of its agents. So this," he motioned to the collection of doctors behind him, "Is my way of making good on my word. Doctors, begin preparing her for the procedure."
"Procedure?" I bellowed, barely containing the rage as I lifted a hand and felt rather than heard the doctors smack into an invisible field created by my mind. "Isn't getting my best friend shot good enough, Fury? Get the hell out of here before-"
"While it is true that Robyn has suffered extensive damage, I was briefly able to communicate with her via telepathy before the doctors forced her body into a medically-induced coma," Xavier interrupted, causing me to lose my focus long enough to drop the impromptu shield. His eyes were on mine, searching, pleading, as he continued, "She knew full well the risk that she took, Alexa. She understands the implications that this procedure will have on her, on all of you. According both to the paperwork she filed with SHIELD previously, and my own interpretation, she's left all important medical decisions in your capable hands."
The news, while stunning, merely left me staring at the man, at the doctors that were moving about the room like ants, blankly. "Was this before or after she flatlined and fried her own fucking brain?" I asked softly, unable to keep the anger out of my voice.
Charles Xavier, clearly taken aback, glanced toward the large blue man next to me before meeting my gaze again. "You'll have to forgive my obvious surprise, Alexa. I was not aware of the fact that Hank had already dispensed with the finer points of the last several days. However, I am glad that at least the medical terminology is well out of the way, as I can assure you my own doctorate was earned far too many years ago." Although the smile that graced his features was warm and inviting, I felt no warmth, no actual emotion. "Colonel Fury, would you care to explain to Alexa what you and your team would like to do?"
"SHIELD is known for its medical facilities, but we can only work so many miracles," he barked. "You're familiar with Steve Rogers?" I nodded slightly, thinking of the white, red, and blue figure that stood as an icon to all American people. "Several decades ago, near the beginning of the Second World War, several scientists were working on a serum that would produce the greatest soldier that the world had ever seen. At the time, Germany seemed to have the upper hand, what with their alliance with Russia. Before the attack on Pearl Harbor, before the USA was even openly part of the Allied Nations, the beginnings of SHIELD were busy procuring this serum."
"The Super Soldier Serum," Hank quipped, his voice far less majestic than Fury's.
"Yes, the Super Soldier Serum," Fury continued his one good eye narrowed on my form. "Several test subjects were, unfortunately, lost before Steve Rogers was selected for the program. Miraculously enough, he was the first and only subject to survive and benefit from the original serum. However," he paused, his eyes flickering toward the doctors that hovered in the room. "The last several decades, when aided with a rather large Research and Development budget, have allowed our scientists to perfect a procedure that is still often referred to as the Super Solider Serum. While not exactly a serum, it has nearly the same effect."
And this means what?
"The procedure itself is deemed risky, simply based on the fact that it requires a complete overhaul, if you will," Hank's voice, nearly poetic, washed over me like a calming wave. "But, the success rate is in our favor, Alexa. If Robyn were to undergo the procedure, it would enhance her own healing ability. Chances would be in her favor that she would make an immediate full recovery. Do you understand what this means?"
"I-" I closed my eyes and nodded, forcing the image of my best friend out of my head as I let myself feel the first tendril of hope rather than despair. "What about her parents? They- They should make this choice."
Fury shook his head quickly, letting out a manly sigh as he pointed toward the door. "She put you down in her paperwork, Michaels. But if that ain't enough, Xavier here contacted her parents the moment she arrived on the Helicarrier."
"I'm afraid that they were adamant that their daughter had absolutely nothing to do with their lives. At least not anymore." Charles Xavier, the epitome of sincerity and understanding, seemed to peer straight through me and into my soul as his gaze lingered on mine. "I know that this is a lot to take in right now, my dear. This- This is something that no one is ever really prepared for; this decision. The best that we can do is to give you all of the information and..."
"Outside. It'll be outside and there will be bright flower petals carpeting the ground. It'll be like an aisle, and they'll be pretty folding chairs."
"Spring or summer?" I found myself asking, grinning as she flipped idly through the Bride magazine that we'd found lying about.
"Spring," she answered immediately, brushing her dark hair back behind her ears as she leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees. "I want the grass to be a little damp, to have that fresh dewy smell as I walk down the aisle. A simple dress, maybe white, but I'd be barefoot."
"Barefoot? Are you pregnant in this wedding of yours?" I laughed, throwing my head backwards as I tried to picture my friend with a belly large enough for a tiny human being.
She was quiet for a long moment, long enough to draw my attention as she stared down at the magazine in awe. "Shoes won't matter, Lex. When I get married, it'll be to the one man that can make me feel like I'm floating, like I have freaking faerie wings. When I walk down the aisle, I'll feel weightless and trapped by his gaze."
Smiling, I snapped the magazine shut and shoved it under the coffee table, rolling my eyes. "Maybe we'll have one of those cheesy double weddings. I mean, I like the outdoors and I'm not exactly opposed to going barefoot. Then again, I'm not exactly a fan of heels anyway."
"Yes! That way we can plan it all out together! We get married the same day, have our kids around the same time. And we'll grow old together, best friends, our kids best friends, and the line of awesome people like us will continue and one day conquer the world!"
Blinking away the memory, I found myself sighing. Hands trembling at my sides, I moved toward the door slowly, booted feet barely making a sound on the linoleum floor. The door slid open quietly, revealing a statuesque Logan in the same exact position he'd been in what seemed like hours before. I stepped into the hallway, leaving my hand on the doorjamb as my stomach began to churn.
The words were out of my mouth before I'd fully understood the implications, but I couldn't take them back.
"Do it. Do it or so help me God, someone's head is going to fucking roll."
Poor, poor Robby. ):