Free at last, free at last…thank God Almighty, I'm free at last…
Hank had never been a religious sort of person even when alone and feeling freer, thinking as he worked with the others to build the new section of the camp for the new spring prisoners. His grandparents and parents had been religious and brought him to church every Sunday of his childhood, beseeching him to have a care for his soul, despite the whatever scientific facts there that had destroyed that faith in so young an age. But he had been interested in science…cold, hard laws that determined reality and denounced a blind religion that had no meaning for him.
Of course, when faced with death, Hank did find that religion was becoming more and more common (except for him), even in the camps and especially when a mutant cure was not what was needed. As he shoveled snow and dirt away to make way for posts for the fencing (and shivered when he remembered that his blue fur fell off in chunks these days), he recalled back to the time when he was kicked out of his home by his parents. He had been aimlessly walking into great schools, graduating with honors and becoming a worker for the CIA…in his own manner, of course. He worked his way with Xavier with the mutant fight became a politician and the rest was history…right?
No, of course not. History is made by those who fought and won the war.
Hank looked over at the other workers, all being whipped in the cold that surrounded them. While most of the young adults that had been in his charge were nowhere in sight (possibly on another assignment or in solitary confinement), he did notice Ororo with her usual female guards around her, each of them taking turns laughing and whipping at her also. While she had been deemed too dangerous to be alone, Hank heard through the grapevine (and he heard many through that vine, good and bad), she had been allowed to assist in digging for short periods of time, working as diligently as the other mutants in clearing for the new fence line.
Ever the proud schoolmistress still, Ororo stood with her back as straight as she could when she dug, taking the abuse with grace. She said nothing about it, as if she deserved it and took it in stride, but that she would someday get her revenge on those who hurt her. For now though, she would take it and figure out her plans later, when something came up. In the meantime, little things come in small packages and surprises come that would give her joy, like their freedom in the snowstorm, a prime for her weather mutation.
Best of all it seemed, Hank was seeing that Ororo would be able to speak to others, being older and held responsible for the younger mutants too. The guards had been more lenient in allowing interaction between her and the other campmates beforehand, but it had been limited and very cheering for her. Even exercise, no matter how little, had improved Ororo's step and demeanor. She had been quiet about her activities before arrival (even the meeting in the exercise ring wasn't enough to say a few words), but it had been clear to Hank she was abused then, worse when she arrived, but healing with each passing day.
Hank, seeing a break in sight and no guards yelling at him to keep working, walked over to Ororo, dropping his shovel next to his last hole. "Storm," he greeted cordially, waving at her captors too, although he had received sharp glances in return, most of them incredulous that he dared to welcome them. "How are things?"
While Ororo had been pushing another shovelful of dirt and snow in a corner, she managed to turn to Hank. "Things are as well as expected," she replied carefully, stealing a glance here and there, to make sure her guards weren't perking their ears for eavesdropping.
"Anywhere we can meet and talk?" Hank asked, hopeful that Ororo would be able to join him sometime, since trips to the Mess (as they now called the building where they all ate their food in great silence) were being allowed slowly. "I'd like to see you."
"Well, I don't know…" Ororo turned to her guards, who were suddenly interested in the conversation when a meeting was mentioned. "You can ask the commander, I guess. I'm sure he'll grant you an audience someday, when he's not so busy."
When guards yelled at Hank to get back to work, he took his shovel back into his hands and continued to dig his hole. When it was finished, he went to the next one in line, seeing that a new angle was about to be formed and another row made, but was stopped by Yuri. His friend that warned him time and again had been silent for days now, since the assassination of Leon Ellis really, but was readily there when Hank needed him in small ways, unnoticeable for many. This time though, he gave Hank a quick smile and pointed to the main camp.
"I think the commander needs to talk with you now," Yuri said conveniently to Hank, escorting him personally from the site. While two other guards flanked them when entering the camp, Yuri had been able to defect any harassment Hank would experience and get him to the office without trouble.
"What are you doing?" Hank finally hissed, seeing the two guards move when they reached the gate to the commander's office and it was opened when Yuri state his business. "You could get killed out there."
"Doing a favor for a friend," Yuri replied quietly. "I know Ms. Munroe is lonely anyway and I've been mentioning it to the commander, since one of her guards is sweet on me and talks. Being with people she knows might help. And you alone can persuade the commander to bring her out more and I don't mean the exercise area either."
"Me?" Hank was skeptical of this, even for himself. He felt incapable of persuading a man to allow a mutant to socialize with others and felt no love for the man who killed so many children and blamed him for escapes. "I can't tell this man to have Storm come out from her prison."
Besides, Hanks wanted to ask, why should this cold man grant an audience to Hank and allow him to speak about Ororo?
"Yes, you," Yuri said, reaching the office door and knocking in a pattern of some sort. When two guards inside called out for assent, he said, "You alone can save them all when outside help comes. You can keep them from being killed."
When the door opened, Yuri pushed Hank in, as if he was being brutal and didn't need his mutant presence anymore, and slammed it shut. Hank then turned away from the diminishing cold, looking around an office he had never been in before. It seemed cozy and warm for someone he despised. While the outside walls had been made of wood, like a log house almost, inside was stone, but warmed by the fireplace to the center right. On the four walls, there were the heads of killed and stuffed animals, one of them appearing to be a beast-like mutant with cutoff horns and red skin. While Hank looked away from such fiendish adornments, he allowed his feet to walk the well-carpeted floors to the desk at the other end of the office. Filled with papers from floor to above his head, the commander was obviously busy with the business of the camp. As two guards made him aware of Hank's presence, he looked up sharply.
"Yes?" he asked Hank rudely, pointing out his papers to betray his high annoyance at being interrupted. "I was told you needed to speak, McCoy. Speak. I don't have time."
At a loss for words and unsure of what to say, Hank uncharacteristically stumbled and stuttered through something akin to asking the commander if Ororo could join the rest of the camp, but the commander impatiently waved his hands. Putting his papers down when Hank said nothing more for this argument for freedom, he slammed fists on his desk.
"I didn't allow you to come in here to stammer," the commander said loudly, his guards raising their weapons – guns – at Hank. "I wanted you in here to give me an argument for something as menial as social hours. You've been a politician, McCoy. Give me a case for your point."
Hank thought quickly, unwilling to give into his insecurities anymore and to get killed. "Well, Sir, I see that Storm –"
"Ororo Munroe," the commander corrected.
"I apologize, Sir. Ms. Ororo Munroe has been in solitary confinement, as I see it, since her late arrival. Her guards have seen to her welfare perfectly and, as far as I can tell, no complaints have been lodged. She has been taking her confinement seriously and has been doing what she has been told. Giving her a little more freedom would give you a more compliant mutant. She'll be able to feel more motivated to take her cure, do the work asked like today and perhaps make her healthier. She'll be able to return to society a human."
"She might take the opportunity to escape too," the commander observed, finding holes in Hank's presentation.
"With her guards still with her? I don't think do." Hank shook his head. "Ms. Munroe has been a steady, worthy and strong schoolmistress for Charles Xavier. She has proven time and again to be concerned about those around her and to keep her word. And, as far as I know, she has been taking the cure, just as we've all had, like I said. She's honest."
Hank only had to remind himself of that. His blue fur had been falling out in bigger clunks recently and his face almost resembled that of a human, but older if he had decided not to turn into a mutant blue. His strength as Beast was also slowly fading to hi s original human one. But there had to be a way for them to avoid all that, to be themselves and to fight before help came. And Hank was sure that, somewhere and somehow, there was a resistance and they would come for them. In the meantime, all he needed was for Ororo to be able to talk with him and they could start to plan accordingly.
"You've trusted me with the younger charges," Hank continued daringly. "Why not trust me with Ms. Munroe? Your guards don't need to stand down and they can stay where they are. We can still talk as civilly as we are now. And we can't hide anything here. We have no secrets."
"I would certainly hope so," the commander sharply replied, afraid of what secrets the mutants may have. After waving his guards to lower his weapons, he looked at Hank severely, folding his fingers into each other as he did. "McCoy, I would also trust that your word mean more than what your mutation is. I give you one…and only one…chance to prove yourself. You now have tomorrow. Ororo Munroe does not show improvement and the ability to return to society as a human with this interaction and you both will receive the direst consequences. Do I make myself clear?"
"Absolutely," Hank replied with the most sincere tone, wishing that it would turn a few heads to their side after the commander gave his order.
"Good." The commander dismissed Hank, turning back to his paperwork as his guards started towards Hank, pushing him to the door roughly.
However, by the time Hank was deposited outside in the whirling snowstorm, Yuri was still there. Wearing a stern expression and holding a gun to Hank's back, he marched the mutant out of the gateway and back towards his work area. All this time, as Yuri kept his serious façade, he whispered encouragement to Hank, adding that it would not be long before it was all over. While not immediately asking what happened, what he saw was success, by the way Hank was smiling.
"Anything?" he finally asked Hank, seeing a moment when the two could not be observed and the truth could be said.
"If you call a step towards freedom good, then yes, something did happen in there," Hank only answered. When he and Yuri reached the work zone, the former picked up his shovel and began to dig as the latter again took his station as the perfect watcher of a mutant camp.
Above phrase ("Free at last...") was an African-American spiritual/gospel song from slavery days. It was also used in Martin Luther King Jr.'s 1963 speech, "I Have a Dream."