Part Seven


The Long Spoon (2)


There was a knock at the door. He thought the note on the door did the job, but seemingly some people were just ignorant. Hank tiredly called, "No more visits. Can't you read the note?"

"Hank, it's me, Piotr," Piotr said through the door. "May I come in?"

After a moment passed Hank said, "Come in, but lock the door." Piotr did and a moment later he was beside Jubilee. "How is she? Better?"

Hank shook his head desperately. "I don't know, Piotr. It seems like all of her vitals are fine, but... she's still in coma. I cannot revive her back to consciousness; I'm not an expert."

Piotr asked him what happened and Hank told him the best he could. When he was done Piotr watched Jubilee's comatose expression and shook his head. "That's impossible. She's a fit woman. Arrhythmia isn't likely to strike anyone so healthy."

"But here it is." Hank curled a lock of Jubilee's hair in his furry finger and released it slowly. "And I can do nothing but wait and watch."

A moment passed and Hank slowly got up. "I have to refresh myself. Look for any change and if there are any, call me. Use that intercom; I'll be in the next room. Oh, and one thing. If you're leaving, lock the door. I have the key." Then Hank hobbled out of the room. Piotr shook his head. It was the first time he saw Hank's appearance so unkempt. And it was only for half a day. God knows what he would look like after tomorrow.

He turned to face Jubilee who seemed to be sleeping. But her face told him she was not. There was something frozen at her face the moment she must have slipped away from the consciousness above and fell under this existence. Fear, maybe, Piotr wondered, but probably something more... pain...

It was just like those days when Illyana spent her dying days beside him. Each moment Piotr would turn her around whenever she slept on her face, fearing that Death would silently grab her the moment he did not see her face. Then he would stay up beside her and sometimes played her a bit of Russian melody when it was morning. Piotr's eyes lit up at the thought. Maybe he could create reactions with some melodies.

There was a spare violin in the underground chamber; he knew because he placed it there just in case the one Kitty gave him for Christmas got lost or something, then immediately returned to the lab. Locking the door behind him, Piotr sought for a perfect spot and when he found it he tested the strings first before went on playing an old Scottish folksong Jubilee loved so much.



Hank was waiting for the water to boil when he noticed his computer was blinking with the message YOU HAVE NEW MESSAGE(S). Then he recalled what he had secretly done for the past two days.

He opened his mailbox and found three bulk mail. Quickly he clicked the first one that was sent yesterday morning. Its contents had the headline of Fredland's National Online News Service. He quickly went through the news and nodded thoughtfully. The next was sent the same day on evening, around six pm. Hank's blue brows went up when he carefully read the time.

After he had finished reading it he went on to the last mail. Sent early in the morning, about five am, the contents were all the same.

And all, except for the one that was sent this morning, were within just a few hours afterRemy had fainted for the past two days.

Hank quickly grabbed a map of New York off the table but it caught at the handle of the mug that contained cocoa powder and spilt it all over the table and the keyboard. "Stars and garters..." Hank muttered to himself.

Just then he heard Piotr bellowed from the next room. He was not calling him. In fact, it sounded like he was in extreme pain.



He checked in a cheap hotel (if $100 dollars per night is cheap) and immediately ran a bath. He took off his clothes and slid into the tub, all tensions in his muscles began to ease away as the fragrant bath oil did its work to his senses.

Remy reached out and his fingertips touched his cigarette. He lit it up and breathed in deeply, the intoxicating smoke filled his lungs a temporary shelter from the real world. When it all disappeared Remy longed for more. He needed to escape from all of this. He needed to escape from this monstrosity of a life. He needed to go away.

Remy smiled at the thought. De only way you gonna git away is leaping into de Hell hole. But he was not planning on doing that yet. He had to fight first. But fighting du Boudreault...?

He was dead. Remy knew and saw it, and even believed that that was the end of the story. Even when the payment was his own mother and father. He thought that was the end of the past. But... someone, somewhere was not happy with how the story ended.

And so decided to start everything all over again.

Boudreault was not the kind who would dabble in dark magic. He once recalled how he scoffed at the Hope Diamond curse and even proudly said he would be the one to steal it and nothing would happen to him. Luckily the High Orders of L'Enfants en Terriblè was not interested in acquiring the infamous diamond.

But how in the hell did he manage to rise back from dead? There was no way he could have done it by himself! Whoever had heard of vampires resurrected unaided? Or monsters that defy description appear out of nowhere?

Remy slid deeper in the tub. There had got to be one way Boudreault managed to return, and that meant someone had aided him in order to do all of this.

That was it, Remy thought. There was no other way.

Just as he was about to rise from his tub to make a phone call, Remy sensed a trickling out of his ears. He absently rubbed his forefinger into his ear and stood up. He headed toward the dressing table and took the white robe off the bed and only then, when he glanced at the mirror, he noticed the spot where he had touched the robe was red.

And that his right ear was pouring out blood. It made a red blotch on his robe at the shoulder. Remy was transfixed for a moment, caught between amazement and fear.

Then he screamed.



No one questioned Hank's story this time. It was all too strange.

Hank found Piotr lying on the floor, his violin and bow flung aside, his whole body convulsing and his eyes and ears had blood coming out of them. It took him a while to get inside because the door was locked and when he did, he almost cried out loud.

Now Piotr lay in coma, in a different room, with Rogue and Kitty watching over him. Hank had his hands around his head, feeling utterly useless for the first time in his entire life. Ororo calmly laid a comforting hand on Hank's shoulder but he did not react.

"How long did you leave him there?" Xavier asked gently.

"Fifteen minutes, perhaps. I waited for the water to boil... I need something to drink and thought Piotr would like some, too, so I boiled extra."

"Nobody in the hallway?"

"No one, professor, I swear! If there was one, won't Cerebro detect them?"

Xavier nodded. "I would have, too. But I detected nothing suspicious during the time limit you suggested."

Hank grew more and more frustrated. "Then how did two people manage to get arrhythmia on the same day!? There is no scientific explanation! Unless this is some sort of a new virus that targets specific people only..."

Logan shook his head. "Piotr had nothin' to do with Jubilee, and so's the opposite." He held Jubilee's hand as he said, "There can't be any connection." Suddenly Logan fell silent.

Xavier sensed something in Logan's mind and he quickly asked, "What is it, Logan?"

"Doc, did you do anythin' to Jubilee?" Logan asked Hank while his eyes were trained on Jubilee's loosely closed fist.

"No. What's the matter?" Hank asked.

Logan slowly opened the fist and took out a sliver of red cloth. Xavier and Hank watched in disbelief as they came to recognize what exactly was that.

"No! That's impossible!" Hank shouted.

Piotr had been wearing a red shirt.

Emma entered as silence descended into the room. An uncomfortable moment passed when she finally said, "Hank, did you boil the water? It's done."

"No... leave it there," Hank said, breathless. As Emma walked out she said, "Quite a mess you made in your room, Hank. It would take a long time to get those cocoa powder off your fingers, you being furry and all that."

Hank felt as if a cartoon anvil had been dropped on his head. He slowly turned and called out to Emma. "What was that, Emma?"

The strange tone in his voice compelled her to stop. "Why, the cocoa on your keyboard," she said slowly. "Seems like you spilled them onto the keyboard but you kept on working on it -- "

Hank lifted a pair of clean, cocoa-free hands. "I didn't touch the cocoa, Emma."

Emma frowned. "Impossible. You must have washed them before. I saw fingerprints and handprints on the keyboard -- "

Without further warning Hank dashed out of the room and ran into his computer room. True enough, the spilled cocoa was still there, but something else was there, too.

Against the cocoa-covered keyboard he saw fingerprints and handprints. Something else jumped into his mind. He ran towards the screen and grabbed the mouse and scrolled down the screen.

All of his bulk mails had been deleted.

To be continued...