Hank glanced at his friend out of the corner of his eye. Alex was seated by Lorna, rubbing circles on the back of her hands. He'd never seen Alex like this before, never seen him take such utter care of another human being besides Scott.
It made him relieved. He'd tried desperately to warn Alex to get out of the room before he heard something he didn't want to hear. His reaction had even surprised Hank, who expected him to leave to think. Instead he had yelled at her siblings for not having their priorities straight.
True, he had left afterwards, but only to beg Hank to find a way to allow him to talk to Lorna in private. He said he'd talk to Magda later, but that he needed to talk to his girlfriend to make sure she knew how he felt about her. After not being able to adequately warn his friend, he figured the least he could do was help him fix what had happened.
So he'd taken a tissue sample and helped him in. He'd tried not to hear what they said while he examined his friend's cells, but his heightened senses didn't give him an opportunity to do so.
Now he looked at Lorna, saw the way that she looked at Alex. Hank wondered what on earth had driven these two people together. He could still remember first meeting Alex, an angry fifteen-year-old who could be cruel in that very special way that only teenagers knew. He remembered seeing Lorna, not knowing then about the men she had killed, the life she had been forced to lead, seeing only the loneliness and despair in her eyes.
Either way, the two had found each other, and he couldn't feel anything besides happiness for them. His disdain for Lorna's siblings had grown as a result of the evening, as had his confidence that he could balance being a doctor and an X-man. It appeared that they weren't mutually exclusive, which was something of a relief. Now he just had to get through the rest of the night.
In time, Hank was sure that the two would talk more, once Lorna could talk. He cleared his throat, and he saw Alex look up.
"I think I've figured something out," he said.
"You have?" Alex said hopefully.
"Yes," said Hank, "We'd um, I should go into the other room before I explain it."
"Oh, right," said Alex.
He squeezed his hand.
"I don't think they know about us," he said, "And I don't think they'd be happy either. For the time being, I'm gonna keep my distance from you a little, okay? I don't wanna cause another scene, cause sick or not I still wanna deck your brother."
She smiled and touched his cheek. Alex grinned back, briefly squeezing her hand. He let it go and stepped to the back of the room.
"I'll stay in here for a few minutes," he said.
Lorna nodded and Hank grabbed the back of her bed. He opened the door and pushed her into the next room. He saw Magda standing quietly next to Charles, apparently having finished cleaning up. She was looking at the floor, and Hank had the feeling that there hadn't been a lot of conversation in the past few minutes.
"I think I know what's going on," he said.
That got their attention. He stopped Lorna's bed by Quicksilver's and cleared his throat.
"Um, so it is radiation," he said.
"And the award for telling us something we already know goes to that guy!" said Quicksilver.
God, now he knew why Alex hated him. The Scarlet Witch smacked his shoulder, and he rolled his eyes. It was such a strange dynamic. Hank knew that Alex didn't understand how she could've grown up with them but he'd never seen the three of them together when they were young.
"But it's a unique radiation," said Hank, "That's why I think we haven't seen this in the past. I'm guessing that heat is the trigger for this, which means that Scott will have to go through some intensive training in the future. However, Alex just knows not to go up to that heat level."
"And what do we do to treat it?" Magneto asked.
Hank adjusted his glasses. He always felt a little strange talking to Magneto.
"Well, that's what I've been figuring out," he said, "Alex's mutation is that he produces radiation. That's why he's never been affected by it. It's like dough not sticking to your hands when they're covered in flour. I drew some of his blood, and then took a tissue sample to confirm it."
He took a deep breath.
"It appears that he's developed special antigens to help him deal with it," he said, "They're shockingly simple which is, I think, one of the reasons why the radiation he creates is unusual. They're a combination of some simple carbohydrate structures, amino acids and-"
"Hank," said Charles, not unkindly, "I really think that we should probably stick to the basics right now."
"Right," Hank said, realizing he'd been in danger of rambling, "Basically, they're present in his tissue and his blood. It's why I think we should be careful with any future blood transfusions, either to him or from him."
Charles continued to give him a look, and Hank realized that that too could be discussed later.
"Anyway, I'm just saying that I can reproduce them," he said, "They won't last forever though: I think he has another element in his tissues that allows him to keep producing them, make them a lasting effect. But it should be enough to eliminate an excess of radiation in your bodies."
"Does this mean that I'm gonna be immune to radiation?" asked Quicksilver, "Because that would be rad."
Hank was tempted to tell him to walk into a nuclear plant and see, it had been a very long night, but he kept himself restrained, just like he had all evening. They would have to be the adults here.
"No," said Hank, "I said the effect was temporary. It's probably going to be an unpleasant half hour or so after you're injected, but after that the effects should start taking hold. You might even be able to put weight on that foot within the hour, and Lorna, you'll be back to talking. Whispers only for now though."
She gave a thumbs-up. He had a feeling that she also knew what else that implied. By the time Scott woke up tomorrow, the only injury Lorna would sport was a bad burn. She'd be able to assure him that she was alright, and there would be no need to tell him the truth about this night until he was older.
He smiled in relief.
"Alright," he said, "I have the appropriate antigens brewing, and it should be done soon."
"Just like that?" asked Magda.
"Just like that," said Hank.
He smiled again, more in genuine joy than relief this time.
"I know this night has been very trying for everyone involved, but hopefully this will never happen again," he said, "I think we're out of the woods now."
It was a beautiful set-up. The grounds were absolutely beautiful. He only wished that he could see more of them through the binoculars. Almost everything was completely exquisite, the scenery perfect. There was great attention to detail, which was so often lacking in grand estates these days. The playground did quite ruin the setting around back, but it wasn't bad. They'd at least had the sense to make the thing out of wood, so it did fit the aesthetic.
He had to hand it to the man who owned it, Charles something or other. He was, as outward appearances suggest, an insignificant professor who'd set up for a shockingly cheap, but incredibly exclusive, private school. Then again, all appearances would suggest that Alexander Summers was a mere P.E. teacher with a good military record. They were probably thick on the ground, but none of them were anywhere near as interesting as Alexander.
Then again, there were some signs that they were anything but normal. It wasn't just that Emma had told him about a highly-organized militia raiding his supplies. It wasn't even the rumors she'd heard from her mother about this Charles.
No no. He'd dealt with do-gooders before. He'd even dealt with militarized do-gooders. Those weren't particularly unique and, while annoying, he'd never felt threatened by them. This though, this was even more interesting than that.
He thinned his lips as he took in the oh-so-perfect grounds. There were a few secrets there. The infrared scanners had picked up quite a few cameras and security traps of a rather advanced degree.
It appeared that Alexander had fallen in with some interesting types. He knew he should be amused by that, but couldn't quite find it in himself to summon that mirth. It seemed that, after generations of living in other men's shadows, the Summers were finally coming into their own.
They were still doing it in the shadows, which worked just fine for him. People living in the shadows were easier to take, easier to remove from all of the foolishness that people seemed to raise when people who lived in the light disappeared.
Still, though, this militarization did change a few things. First off, Alexander would be difficult to capture. He didn't want this kind of fuss. He didn't need this sort of fuss. If only everything would go simply.
But it would be too easy for Emma to find him actually being a P.E. teacher. He sighed and lowered the binoculars. The chances of him being able to send a small extraction team, the only one that might have a chance, were slim. He could certainly send one, send a very skilled one, but they would fail.
He'd been careful, done the calculations as he took in all of the visible factors. Any mission in this kind of circumstances had about a 30 percent chance of succeeding. If he factored in getting Alexander undamaged, then it went down to 10 percent.
Usually he was one to play the odds, but that was just too risky. He'd waited a long time for this for the right circumstances, and the risk of damaging him before the time was right was too frustrating. Fate didn't want him to have an easy time of it.
He was nothing if not a planner though. He pocketed his binoculars and went over to his car. Most people who associated with the Hellfire Club kept an absolute retinue of guards. Emma had kept her team selective, a good move. She was almost worth addressing as an equal. Almost.
With a smile he reached into the back seat and withdrew what looked like a metal box. He hummed to himself as he tapped in the code, and the hinges uncurled. Inside there was a clear glass box, tightly sealed for its occupant's protection.
The smoke inside it began bubbling, and he gave a sad smile.
"No," he said, "I'm sorry, but I haven't figured out something permanent yet. I just thought you might like to stretch your legs a big."
The smoke swirled.
"Now," he said, "I'm going to give you your target's name. I doubt they'll really notice you, or realize anything's wrong. Not if you do this quickly."
The smoke swirled slightly faster. He began to unhook the opening to the glass box. Tendrils of smoke were already escaping.
"As usual, you have one hour. His name is Alexander Summers," he said, "A name I know you recognize."
A/N: Three more chapters to go. After that, two weeks and then the last story in the trilogy.