Chapter 4
"Okay Storm…" Hank said, in a voice that clearly denoted some bad news. "The fluid in the tank is very similar to the amnion you will be breathing. What I want to do is put this helmet on you so you can get in the tank first and become acclimated to it. Once you are comfortable, then we will fill the helmet." The expression on her face showed a great deal of concern.
"The only difference…" he continued "is that the amnion we fill your helmet with will have a higher oxygen content. This will speed up the process of getting air into your lungs. At first you will fill the urge to resist it – like you're starting to drown. Don't worry…" she gave a very nervous and abrupt laugh.
"What I mean…" he corrected himself "is, you may feel the urge to panic at first, but that will pass."
"Hank, why don't you just put her back to sleep and do it then?" Logan asked.
"That is a LAST resort Logan. It is imperative to introduce her to this while she is conscious – it increases the acclimation exponentially. Doing this while she is asleep significantly increases the chance of going into shock."
"How long will it take my lungs to fill with the amnion?" She asked – thinking about the panic she might experience during the procedure.
"Not long – after you the first breath, anywhere from 15 – 45 seconds. During this period, you won't be able to talk. After the procedure has been completed, you MAY be able to say a few words, but not much. If you need to communicate, you will have to use the keyboard in the tank. This is really important Storm – you're going to have to concentrate very hard during this phase. I fear that if you have a claustrophobic attack, it will be then. I'd like Jean to keep a psionic lock on you so we can monitor your stress level. Is that okay?"
"Yes." She said – reluctantly. She hated it when people saw fear on her face…which wasn't very often. Reading the thoughts behind that fear was different though – it robbed her of the ability to work through it herself and show the calm demeanor she was known for. Though she rarely had claustrophobic attacks anymore, she still didn't want anyone to know what she felt during them.
Hank went over each detail of the procedure piece by piece to ensure her that it would work. After about 15 minutes, she was finally ready. She donned the helmet and slid into the tank. Hank watched her only for a minute to make sure she was okay with being inside the thick fluid. He and Jean then left her alone with Wolverine for a few minutes. He thought 10 minutes might be a good enough period for her to adjust to the chamber, but didn't want to stand in front of her in her undressed state. When he returned 10 minutes later, he was glad to see that her claustrophobia wasn't giving her a problem. He prepared to begin the amnion feed to her helmet, and once everything was ready, he asked Storm if she was ready to start.
"As ready as I will ever be." she replied with an air of concentration. He admired her strength and determination.
Jean got into place and started concentrating on Storm's psyche. Hank turned the pump on and the helmet started filling with fluid. As soon as Storm felt the fluid encircle her neck, her heart started racing. Hank stopped it right away – even before Jean could update him on her condition. He had already taken into consideration the initial shock and wanted to slowly introduce her to the fluid.
"What's wrong Hank – why'd you stop?" Logan asked with a very puzzled look on his face.
"I wanted to give her a chance to get used to the feel of the fluid. That's all."
"I am okay Henry" she said; with a hint of nervousness in her voice. "Continue." She wasn't one to beat around the bush – she wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.
As the fluid lapped her mouth, her stress level started to rise; but she remained in control. The procedure seemed to take forever – much longer than Logan and Jean expected; but that was something Hank preplanned. His logic behind the lengthy process was to give her as much time as possible to relax and adjust. Jean reported every 10 - 20 seconds that she was doing okay.
As the fluid touched the base of her nose, the drowning feeling started to sink in and she began to panic – so much so that it was becoming difficult for her to talk. She nervously spit out the words "Keep going - I am okay."
Just as it covered her nose and she could no longer breathe normal air, she went into extreme panic. That panic lead to a sudden and vicious claustrophobic attack. Her first thought was to try to climb out the chamber; but as she reached for the ladder she realized it wouldn't do any good. She looked to Hank and Logan for answers but they couldn't give her any. They both yelled into the mic to calm down but it had no effect on her. In her state of mind, she couldn't hear anything; panic and claustrophobia had consumed her.
"Hank – you have to stop! She's having a claustrophobic attack. I don't know how much longer she'll remain conscious."
"No!" Logan yelled. "She can beat this – finish it Hank!"
As the fluid started pouring into her mouth and filling her nostrils, she started pounding on the walls of the tank. The 3 X-Men in the medlab heard thunder crackling outside and knew right away she had started to lose control.
"Calm down baby - you can do this!" Logan yelled into the mic. "Hang on a little bit longer!"
With the fluid in her mouth, she couldn't say anything; but everyone knew what was on her mind and did their best to give her reassuring looks.
The thunder outside cracked louder and closer together. "Hank – you have to pull her out NOW!" Jean yelled. "I don't know how much more she can take."
"NO!" Logan yelled back "She'll do it." He put his hand on the wall of the tank as a sign of support but it seemed to have little effect on her. She put her hand up to his as if she could touch him through the plexiglass, but her panic continued.
The anguish in her face convinced Hank that he should stop the procedure and make a second attempt later. He'd heard about how severe her claustrophibic attacks were but never witnessed one personally and it severely frightened him to see her like that. He reached to shut the pump controls off but Logan grabbed his hand.
"LOOK!" he yelled – she's doing it!"
All 3 X-Men looked at her as the familiar motions of breathing started returning to her face. The enriched oxygen mixture had indeed set in – something Hank was very glad of. A couple minutes later she had completely calmed down and the weather outside had settled back to normal. She couldn't talk, but the keypad on the inside of the tank allowed her to tell Hank she was okay. Jean agreed with her assessment and gave her a reaffirming wink - to let her know her fear of others finding out about her thoughts during claustrophobic attacks would remain their little secret.
From that point on it was smooth sailing. Hank started the anesthesia feed and inside 15 minutes, she was out like a light. Just before she faded off to sleep, Logan took the mic and softly whispered "I love you Ro" into it. Her eyes fluttered a bit as she tried to respond, but she fell asleep before she could do so. He knew though, and smiled at her as she drifted into sleep. All her vital signs checked out normal and everyone was relieved the procedure was finally over.
"She's a tough one…" Hank said as he gave the thumbs up on the scanner results.
"As tough as they come!" Logan replied with a smug smile.
Logan raised a drape over the lower half of the tank – allowing only a view of her shoulders and head, then all 3 left the med-lab.
With Storm now out of immediate danger and asleep for the next 3 days, Wolverine turned his attention to someone else – Triggerman. The way he saw it, someone out there took out 2 mutants and caused Storm – the love of his life – a whole lot of pain. It was time to introduce Triggerman to Wolverine's world – a world o' hurt."
By the time he made it to the minijet, he had Triggerman's complete file. A quick call to his friend JOHN WRAITH gave him all the information he needed. Wraith was one of the few people Logan trusted from his past. He had proven himself time and time again to be a good person and friend; especially in combat. They became good friends after Wraith helped him find the cabin where he buried Silverfox and told him that he owed him another big favor. Wraith was quick to remind him that HE owed Logan a large one for TERRY ADAMS and didn't mind using his vast government resources to help him out. After all, Storm was a friend of his too; and he hated the FOH just as much as Logan.
He was fully versed in Triggerman's file by the time he arrived in Michigan: from his size 14 shoes to his dishonorable discharge from the Marine Corps for fighting with a soldier he suspected of being a mutant. Logan grunted at the dishonorable discharge. "Looks like someone's been rotten to the corps" he said to himself. He was glad to see that the Eagle, Globe and Anchor (the Marine Corps insignia) still meant something to the Marines. "Too bad the rest of the world can't take hint from the Corps" he said, thinking about their time-honored tradition of Loyalty, Honor and Integrity.
Logan thought about Gambit's request to come along to settle the score. He would have invited Gambit, but this was personal. Normally he enjoyed having another "warrior" along side – it gave him someone to sit around and drink beer with after the battle - and Gambit was certainly worthy of such activity; but this was different. On a smaller level, he also wanted to protect Gambit from recrimination from the other X-Men; and more specifically, from Storm, Cyclops and Xavier. This wasn't going to be a couple of guys bustin' heads at the local bar; two were going in, but only one was coming out. Actually, if he could get the necessary information from Triggerman, a whole FOH chapter would pay the price.
He landed just outside the city limits in the forest, pulled his scoot out of the cargo bay and headed for the city. Triggerman (Timothy Ray Dalton) worked at Evan's contracting; and if luck was on Logan's side, he'd get there before they shut down for the day. Evans contracting was currently in the middle of renovating a downtown building – a subset of the Renaissance Center that had been damaged during the previous winter when an extreme cold front burst several substandard pipes.
Wolverine arrived at the site a little before 5:30. Fortune was on his side that day as the Renaissance Center was the single most distinguishable building in the entire city. It couldn't have been easier to find Dalton if he had a spotlight on his head. Logan rolled up just in time to see Dalton heading for his truck.
"Triggerman's a big boy ain't he." Logan said to himself as he saw the 6'7, 300+lb. guy get into his truck. Well, the bigger they are the more ass ta kick!"
Logan followed him to a local bar – the Chug-a-lug. He'd have to remember where it was in case he ever came back to Detroit…it seemed like a good place to grab a beer and some grub. Being so close to Canada, he could almost smell the familiar territory. Perhaps after Storm was feeling better, he'd take her to his old stomping grounds for some fun and recreation. As he sat down a few tables away from Dalton, his mind quickly refocused on the issue at hand – dispatching Triggerman.
Wolverine observed Dalton for nearly 2 hours – taking note of his mannerisms, the people he spoke to, and the things they talked about – anything and everything that gave him insight into the man. Several FOH members came and went and Logan took note of every single one. He took down whatever information he could get – first names, last names, nicknames…business information, sports – everything that gave him a clue to the identities of Dalton's associates. If he couldn't get them all together, he'd hunt them down one by one.
Near the end of the second hour, Logan finally heard what he was waiting for – a FOH meeting the next night at 7:30 in a warehouse on the other side of town. "That's one meeting you won't be attendin' Bub…" he said to himself "but I'll be sure ta send your regards." He grumbled as he donned his hat and walked out the bar.
Dalton left the bar nearly an hour later and walked out to his truck.
"Got a light Bub?" Wolverine asked him as he fumbled for his keys.
"Sure!" Dalton said, turning around to meet the short stocky stranger. "Just gimme a sec ta find my…"
**THUD**
**SPLASH**
"Wake up ya low-life piece o' garbage! We got business ta tend to!"
"Wha…What the hell?! What'd ya hit me for? Why the hell did you tie me up? Who are you?!"
"Shut it or I'll shut it for ya – um the one askin' the questions here Bub – got it!? So, is this where ya hid?" Logan asked, pointing to a metal bin.
Wolverine's question prompted Dalton to look around the very familiar place – the abandoned tire facility he was in just 4 days prior.
"Untie me you…you coward!"
"There'll be plenty o' time fer that." Wolverine said as he crushed his cigar out on Dalton's forehead.
"Aaarrh! That hurt! Untie me and lets see you do that again!"
"That hurt huh? Did it BURN? You ain't FELT pain yet Bub – not like I'm gonna give ya. My girlfriend is sittin' up in a fishbowl with 3rd degree burns over a third of her body because o' you. The way I see it, it's payback time!"
"Is that what this is all about? You one of them mutant lovers?!"
**SNIKT**
"Um a whole lot more than that!"
"Mutant scum! Garbage! You come to take me out cuz I hurt your little mutant woman? Mutant coward! Why don't you untie me and take me out like a real man!"
"Be careful what ya ask for Bub!" Wolverine yelled as he popped out his other 3 claws and took a swipe at Dalton. "Ya just might get it!" Dalton flinched and covered his face. He let out a yelp in anticipation of Wolverine's attack but was very much surprised when the only thing he felt was the rope being cut from his wrists.
"Oh, so you wanna fight like a REAL man eh shrimp? Well why don't you put them mutant-freak claws away and let's do this!"
"I don't need these claws ta take you down!" he yelled as he retracted them and pointed a recriminating finger at Dalton. "C'mon Triggerman – show me what ya got!"
Dalton stepped toward Logan and swung at him with a left uppercut. Logan easily dodged it and laughed as the large man stumbled to keep his balance. He then took two more swings – both as unimpressive as the first.
"Don't make me laugh Goliath – you got all the grace of a rabid bull rhino."
"Who needs grace when you have STRENGTH?" Dalton yelled as he made several more attempts before stopping to catch his breath.
"What – you tired already? I haven't even stretched yet!" Logan snickered as he yawned and moved in for his first swing. "I thought you were at least gonna get me warmed up for tomorrow night!" He yelled as he connected with Dalton's right cheek, sending him to his knees.
"I'll get you warmed up alright!" Dalton yelled back as he backhanded Wolverine, sending him to the ground. Before Logan could get up, Dalton had already grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and delivered left hook, sending him sliding across the floor about 8 feet away. Wolverine was quick to react this time, springing to his feet and taking a defensive posture.
"Now you're talkin' my language Bub!" Logan yelled as he wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. *Man – I felt that one in my FEET! I gotta stop playin' with this chump. He may be slow but he was right about that strength thing.*
"Talkin' your language huh? Well let me introduce you to a few new words from MY language like "ambulance" and "intensive care."" Dalton yelled as he lunged for Wolverine.
"Already heard 'em" Logan yelled back as he countered with a dropkick and an uppercut to the jaw. "They go along with "rest in peace."" he added as he drove the point of his elbow into Dalton's back, sending him crashing to the ground.
Dalton was slow to get up; Logan's last 3 hits took a lot out of him. He grunted as he slowly climbed to his knees.
"Get up!" Logan yelled as he delivered a devastating kick to the ribs – one worthy of an NFL punter. "I ain't threw with you yet!" he added while delivering yet another kick – this one to Dalton's head. Much to Logan's surprise, he was still conscious.
"Damn Goliath! I gotta hand it to ya, you're tougher than I thought!" he said, watching Dalton slowly sit up on his knees. "That's okay though – I got plenty more for ya. This one's for STORM!" he yelled as he delivered another devastating kick. "This one's for the little GIRL…and this one's for the little girl's PARENTS!" he yelled with the final and most brutal blow.
After delivering his barrage of kicks, Logan casually walked over to the large barrel holding his coat and hat, put them on, then lit a cigar. He casually leaned against the barrel as he took a few puffs and reflected on the night's events. *It's Miller time* he thought to himself, *think I'll go back to the Chug-a-Lug.*
"Wait…til I get…back on…my feet." a very weak voice muttered from the huddled mass of bloodied flesh and broken bones that used to be towering man Dalton. "I'll…get you…you mutant son of a…"
"I don't think so Bub!" Logan said as he pulled a small object out of his coat pocket and pulled the pin. "Here's a little goin' away present for ya…" he said as he rolled it over to Dalton, "Courtesy o' me and Storm."
As he walked away, he heard Dalton gasp in realization of what the device was – an incendiary grenade. The grenade went off just as Wolverine walked out of the building; he could feel the heat pressed against his back. He thought he heard one last scream as he took another puff of his cigar and tossed a second grenade into Dalton's truck.
"One down – a mess of 'em ta go. I shoulda brought some beer" he said to himself as he started the long walk back to the Chug-a-lug to get his motorcycle.
The next evening Logan found himself outside the FOH warehouse counting the number of people going in and taking inventory of the types of weapons they had on them. He counted numerous handguns and knives but nothing of significant threat…to him. This particular warehouse was empty but not abandoned, just not in use by an established business. The FOH rented it out to store their weapons cache – a very impressive one at that. Logan had already reconnoitered the area and knew the layout of the structure as well as the location of anything of importance – including their high explosives and larger guns. He waited until 8:00 before he scaled down the side of the warehouse and started disabling the cars. By 8:15, all vehicles surrounding the warehouse were sufficiently crippled. With that behind him, he quickly scaled the wall and entered the roof access to the warehouse.
The FOH meeting was in full swing by the time Logan perched on top of his pre-established hiding place to listen in on their activities. Over the next 45 minutes, he listened in on virtually every scheduled FOH plan for the next month and a half – not just those in Michigan, but up and down the eastern seaboard and sometimes further. He gathered information on some activities as far west as Los Angeles and south as Texas. *Won't that be a kick in the pants* he thought to himself as he pictured the expressions on the faces of the FOH members when all their well-laid plans went to hell. After they finished the organized details, they switched to something of a more personal nature – local fun and games.
"I was hoping Dalton would be here to talk about last weeks "activities" – especially since he lead things off with such a bang, but seeing as how he's late and the meeting must go on, I'll take over in his absence. Congratulations to all of you that were in on the tire plant fight. We took out 4 – one of them an X-Man!" the emcee reported.
The applause he received after making that last statement nearly made Logan sick. *These sick bastards – they're applauding killing other people – one of which happens ta be the woman I love!*
"We still don't know how many of these X-Men there are, but the woman with the white hair – the one called "Storm" was apparently a bigwig. I'm sure taking her out set them back pretty far."
Another round of applause followed his last statement – prompting Logan to spring into action.
"NOT FAR ENOUGH BUB!" Logan yelled as he jumped down from his perch on one of the ceiling supports.
"What the…?" the man yelled as he looked up at the incoming X-Man. Those were his final words before Logan extruded his claws and sliced him lengthways in half as he landed.
"Party's over boys – yer mutant hatin' days are finished!" Logan yelled as he lunged into the crowd and took out 3 more friends before they had the chance to collect themselves and react. The other 48 were ready though and attacked him like he was made of gold and they were ready to cash in. That just made him madder though. With that berserker rage crawling up his spine, he met each one with the ferocity of a madman bent on destruction. They tried everything but he wouldn't go down. Knives and sticks had no effect on him…he laughed as he sliced through them AND the people wielding them. Guns slowed him down but in the end, didn't stop him. Forward he went taking out one friend after another. Truly this was when he was the most dangerous – by himself, surrounded by the enemy. He didn't go for the "fisticuffs" style of fighting he afforded Dalton – with this many opponents, he went straight for throats and other vital organs.
"I got ya right were I want ya!" he yelled. "I can swing in any direction and still hit ya!" The thought of being completely surrounded by men that wanted to kill him seemed to please him to no end.
It reminded him of the many battles he had with the Hand. Though the Friends of Humanity were nothing compared to the Hand, it still brought back some interesting memories. He half wished he had brought Gambit along – thinking back to the time they were ambushed by a small army of Hand ninja at the Ropongi police station in Tokyo. *Gambit woulda gotta kick outta this* he thought to himself.
**Wachoom** the all too familiar sound came – as if on cue with Wolverine's thoughts.
Wolverine had made his way through 18 of the remaining FOH and was on his second wind when Gambit crashed the party throwing down a royal flush the hard way.
"Wolverine mon ami – you started de party wit'out me." Gambit said as he landed and extended his staff, taking out two approaching friends.
"Sorry bout that Gambit – this here was a personal thing. Glad you're here though – we can go have a beer afterwards!" he yelled as he sliced through the jugular of an attacking Friend.
They started in on the remaining FOH and mowed them down like a weed-eater in a flowerbed. The floor space around them started to clear, giving both X-Men a sense that the end was finally near – which for Wolverine, meant there were only 15 or 20 left.
"Looks like we're almost done…" Logan yelled. "Good thing too – the stench o' these fellas is startin ta offend my sense o' smell!" He laughed as 2 more friends – twins at that – attacked him.
"Get a load o' this! Twins!" He grunted. "I'll take Thing 1, you take Thing 2!" Gambit was all too willing to oblige.
**BADOOM**
A loud explosion rocked the warehouse from one end to the other. "Hah!" Wolverine laughed. "One o' yer boys musta found the SHAPED CHARGE I left in yer weapons cache! He yelled as he sliced through yet another friend. "Guess y'all won't be bringin' out the HEAVY ARTILLERY tonight eh? Too bad, I pack MY heavy artillery in my bones!" he yelled as he elbowed one friend in the back with his right arm and simultaneously gave another friend a left hook that separated way more than his jaw.
The two of them together were way more than the FOH could handle. A few smart ones knew that and headed for their cars, but seeing as how Wolverine had already taken care of that issue, they were left 2-stepping it away from the warehouse. Unfortunately for them, Wolverine and Gambit had no problems tracking them down. Before the night was over, one FOH chapter had been completely scratched from the planet. The final step – an impressive barrage of well-placed incendiary grenades – removed all evidence of the X-Men's involvement and made the entire incident look like the weapons cache had detonated; destroying the warehouse and everyone, inside and a great deal around the perimiter.
Logan and Gambit ended up at the Chug-a-lug where they both downed a pretty large share of beer…among other things.
"So, how'd you find me Gumbo?"
"Wasn't easy – you takin' off like dat, not tellin' anyone. Gambit figure you do sometin' like dat, so Gambit put a bug on y'r scoot."
"Thievin' sneak!" he laughed. "So why didn't you join me at the tire factory?"
"You left your motorcycle 'ere – by de time Gambit figure out wat you up to, it was too late." he said – referring to the rather "well-done" Triggerman.
Logan smirked as he drank the last of his beer and reached for his coat and hat. "Ready ta head back to the mansion?"
"Sure t'ing mon ami…Gambit miss de petit sometin' awful."
"Yeah, and we gotta figure out some way to break this to the rest of the team – they ain't gonna be happy with what we did. Perhaps you shoulda kept yer ass outta this."
"Gambit's ass was in dis the second dey det'nate dat bomb nex' t' Storm! She may be your woman, but she my fran. Whatever de consequences be - Gambit face dem.
"Whatever you say Gumbo!" Logan smirked – he respected Remy's decision to come…loyalty like that was hard to come by, and Storm definitely earned it.
Wolverine arrived back at the mansion 17 hours before Hank was scheduled to bring Storm out of her induced sleep. Beast came running up to him as soon as the minijet landed.
"Where have you been?" Hank said with a great deal of excitement in his voice.
"I had some business ta tend to. Why – what's the matter Hank? Somethin' happen to Storm?"
"Yes, I need more plasma from you – right away." he said excitedly.
"Why? What happened? Did she take a turn for the worse?" Logan asked, fearing something bad.
"Not at all – quite the opposite…come, quickly, I'll show you!" Hank yelled while pulling him toward the med-lab.
They both ran to the med-lab and Beast nearly broke the door down trying to get in. The flu-gen tank was in the far corner – a meager attempt to shield Storm from anyone entering the med-lab without Hank's permission. Wolverine could tell Storm was still asleep but from that distance, couldn't discern any other difference in her. It wasn't until he walked to the other side of the tank to view her injuries that he saw the source of Hanks excitement.
"Hank! Her injuries – they've started healing!" he said excitedly as he looked at her recovering body. Some of her lesser injuries – the cuts and bruises – had completely healed and the more serious ones had significant improvement. "How?" he asked, turning to his knowledgeable friend.
"Your plasma! Apparently it shares your unique regenerative abilities and if applied in the proper ratio, can be transmitted to other mutants."
"But I thought…I mean – it's only worked a fraction of the time before!"
"That's because you were dealing with WHOLE BLOOD. Mutant whole blood is much more unpredictable than plasma – differing as much as the mutant power itself. That's why the body is so quick to reject it. Not only is plasma much more similar in its general effects, it's also much more stable and easier to work with. Its effects are more gradual, giving the body more time to adjust. Do you know what this means Logan? Do you know what a study of your plasma can do for mut…"
"Why didn't this work when you first started giving her plasma?"
"I don't know – maybe because of the poor circulation through her injuries."
"So what's different now?"
"I was able to add your plasma directly to the amnion in the tank – I didn't know if it would work, but I knew it wouldn't do any harm to her. Can you believe this? If this continues, I estimate a complete recovery – 100%! I need more plasma from you. Now that her body has been acclimated to your plasma, a higher concentration should induce a more rapid recovery."
"How long?"
"Two – three weeks…MAYBE a little longer! I'll know more when I increase the plasma drip. I was just about to bring her out of the chamber to tell her the good news when I heard your jet. It's only fitting that you be the first person she sees when she wakes up."
Hank summoned Jean to help with moving Storm out of the chamber. With her telepathic abilities, it was a piece of cake. She gently raised Storm out of the chamber and laid her down on her stomach on one of the hospital beds. After draining her lungs of the amnion, She and Hank then left the room for awhile and gave Logan a chance to dry her off and cover her up before they woke her.
"Storm…Storm, wake up" Logan said in a tone so low and gentle that it shocked Hank and Jean.
She awoke to Logan holding her hand and gently repeating her name.
"Mmmph" she said as she stretched and yawned. It wasn't until she finished her stretch that it dawned on her she should have been in a lot of pain, but wasn't.
"What happened?" she said as she tried to get up. Hank stopped her.
"Look!" Logan said as he held a mirror up allowing her to see her back. "Your injuries are healing!"
"By the goddess!" she yelled. "How?"
"Logan's plasma – it started regenerating your tissue while you were in the chamber. I think another 2 – 3 weeks will yield a complete recovery."
"Goddess!" She couldn't hold back the tears.
For the next 15 minutes, Hank rambled off one medical explanation after another. He talked about all the future research he wanted to do on Logan's plasma and all the things he thought it would be good for. For the most part, it went in one ear and out the other of all the people present. The only thing they really cared about at that particular moment was Storm's recovery.
After he finished his medical rhetoric, he refocused on Storm. He fully debriefed her on his plans for the next few weeks and answered all of her questions.
"You don't have to go back in yet. A day out of the chamber may do you a little good – get your blood flowing…so to speak." Hank told her.
"Good…I would kill for some lasagna right now!" she said with a laugh. At that point, everyone in the room knew she would be alright – mentally and physically.