There Must Be Some Kind of Way Out of Here
Chapter 20
Author's Note: Stuff in italics are thoughts. I love you all. You know, I noticed something about my story title. When I came up with it, I had nothing special in mind. It just happened to be the first line in the song I was listening to at the time ('All Along the Watchtower' by Jimi Hendrix). It's amazing how it ended up being an appropriate title. I didn't mean to make the Danger Room sequence in Chapter 19 seem so intense. I suppose it could have been written better, but it helps prove how horribly outclassed John is as compared to the other mutants. Maybe he'll get a weapon or something, cause Gambit has a pole, so why can't John carry a sword or something?
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from X-Men: Evolution - Marvel and Kid's WB do. I do own my original character, John Jashback, and any arms that fall off.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
John Jashback opened his eyes and saw white. Pale, drab white. But his head rang. And hunger gnawed at his stomach.
Man, I'm tired. What happened to me? Where am I?
He looked down and noticed the white blanket covering his body, pulled up to his neck.
My head hurts. Where am I?
Rhythmic beeping caught his attention, and John looked over to see an EKG device sitting along the left side of his bed. Everything looked normal, but he didn't know how they worked. John looked back up at the ceiling and concentrated.
"How did I get here?" he said aloud.
A million different conflicting memories seemed to come out all together.
The car accident. The car flipped over and pinned my arm. No wait, I fell. But where's my arm? They amputated it. No, I'm a mutant. My arm falls off.
John furrowed his brows as confusion wracked his brain. He reached up to rub his temples, but something was covering them.
"Hello?" he called out. "Anyone there?"
Silence. His head hurt too much to look around.
"Hello?"
More silence.
"If nobody's there, I'm going to sing..." he warned.
"Is there any aspirin around here?" he said to no one in particular. "My head hurts." John sighed and pushed himself up with his one arm.
The room was empty, save for three chairs arrayed around the bed, and the door was open. A counter covered half of one side of the room, with a sink, a mirror, and cabinets above it. John threw back the blanket (finding himself glad only in his boxers, with a bandage on his chest) and got off of the bed. Legs trembling, he walked over and began rooting through the cabinets, finally finding some aspirin. He tossed a couple in his mouth and turned on the faucet. There were no cups that he could see, so he bent his head down and under the mouth, letting the water run into his slacked jaw. It was crude, but it worked. He tossed back his head and swallowed the pills. He looked in the mirror at himself and saw the large bandage wrapped around the base of his scalp, dark circles hung under his eyes, and his face and chest were decorated in various cuts and scratches. He flashed a sickly grin.
Oh yeah, I look good. Or as good as you can look after fighting with a bear. Maybe that's why my head hurts.
Scratching the top of his head, John stuck his head out the door and looked around. The walls and floor were metal, like the Danger Room.
You know, I think a lot of the stuff in here is made of metal. I'd hate to drop a magnet in this place. Or spill water.
"Helloooooo?" John called out.
He walked down the hallway leading from his room barefoot and nearly naked. He reached a door down at the end and stepped through, and the transition was very abrupt. The stark metal walls and floor were gone, and the floor was carpeted and there was wallpaper and various furniture. It looked just like every other hallway of the mansion.
So I'm in the Institute. I am a mutant. I did fall. I am a mutant.
"A mutant." He didn't quite know how to react to it.
Should I be angry? Happy? Ashamed? Proud? Upset? Disappointed?
"I'm a mutant," he said. "A mutant."
His arm. His mutation.
My arm is my mutation.
John looked down at his one arm, and then over to where the other was supposed to be. He clenched his fist and concentrate hard.
This is how it works, right?
He clamped his mouth shut and closed his eyes. He heard a strange sound and...
When he opened his eyes again, he had two arms. John examined his new arm and touched the film that coated it. It stuck to his fingers, but quickly rubbed away. He smiled contentedly and walked on down the hallway.
Where am I going? To find someone? Yes, to find someone.
His head still rang.
When that aspirin going to kick in?
He came upon an elevator and pressed the button to open it. Inside was a small panel with six buttons, none of which offered a real definition of where they went, with the exception of a 'Stop' and 'Help' button. John decided to cut his losses, and pressed every button (except 'Stop' of course). The door slid shut and the elevator began to move up. The elevator stopped, and the door opened again. It was another hallway, carpeted like the other.
Poking out his head he called out. "Helloooo? Anyone there? No? Ok. I'll go now."
He stepped into the elevator and the door closed. All the force pushed down to John's feet, signifying that he was moving up again. Another decorated hallway greeted John when the door opened at the next floor.
"Hellooooo? Anyone there? My head hurts. And I need to wash my arm. Nobody's there? Ok, I'll go now," he said lazily.
The door shut, and the force rose to John's head, meaning the elevator was going back down. John finally noticed a panel above the doors reading the floor he was on.
"F2....F1....B1..."
The door opened and he was back where he had come in initially.
"Nope, I've been here already," he said dreamily. "I'm tired. I'm going to sit down."
He slumped down, leaning against the elevator for support. He fought back a shiver -- exposed skin on cold metal wasn't a comfortable combination. The elevator moved down another floor, revealing a metal-clad corridor. John didn't bother to get up, he just merely called out.
"Hello? I'm in here. I'm hungry. My head hurts. Where are my clothes?" As the elevator door's slid shut, he added, "Bye bye."
He looked back up at the console with the buttons, but decided it was too far away.
"I'm tired," he said sleepily to no one in particular. "I think I'm going to take a nap...right...here..."
His head slumped over onto his shoulder, and he began to snore softly.
**********
John was sitting on a couch, staring at the glowing embers of a dying fire. A very female body lay close him, clutching him as if he were her last vestige of warmth. As hard as he tried to get a look at her face, he couldn't see it.
"Who are you?" John whispered.
"You know who I am," she said, in a voice he didn't recognize.
"No, I don't."
"Yes you do," she said. "Look into your heart, and you will know the answer."
She slipped her hand into his, and squeezed hard. And then she was gone.
**********
John Jashback opened his eyes and saw white. Pale, drab white. But his head rang. And hunger gnawed at his stomach.
Man, I'm tired. What happened to me? Where am I?
He looked down and noticed the white blanket covering his body, pulled up to his neck.
My head hurts. Where am I?
John looked back up at the ceiling and concentrated.
Don't tell me I just dreamed all of that?
A shadow appeared over John's head.
"How are you feeling?" a benevolent voice asked.
"My head hurts. I'm hungry. And I've been having the craziest dreams."
John tried to make out the face looming above him, but it was too dark.
"That's to be expected. Do you know where you are?"
"Hospital?"
"Close." A light flashed in John's eyes. "Open your eyes, please."
John obeyed, and the light flashed deep into each eye. When it disappeared, he blinked hard.
"Just as I expected. You have a concussion. Do you know your name?"
"Sure. I'm John Jashback."
The shadow nodded. "Do you know who I am?" it asked.
John squinted as he tried to make out the face. "Nope. Too dark."
The shadow pulled back into the light and John screamed, and he began to flail about, as if he was having a seizure. In fact, he was having a seizure. His body convulsed and trembled, his screaming cut off, as the only noises he made were sharp grunts and groans. And then everything turned to black.
**********
It was dark. The kind of dark where you can't see your hand in front of you.
"Hello?" called out a voice from the darkness. "Is anyone there?"
It was quiet. The kind of quiet where a pin dropping would sound like an explosion.
"Hello?" the voice called again, resonating through the infinite silence.
"Hel..." the voice was cut off as the speech was replaced with a blood-curdling scream. A scream that shatters the eardrums and scars the soul, a scream that boils the blood and sends fear speeding through the body. And as feverishly had it began it, it stopped.
It was dark.
It was quiet.
**********
John Jashback opened his eyes and saw white. Pale, drab white. But his head throbbed. And hunger gnawed at his stomach.
Wait a minute...
"Is someone there?" John called out.
"Yes," a calm voice said.
"Are you a big, blue gorilla?" John asked.
"Er...yes," the voice said again.
"Mr. McCoy?" John asked tentatively.
"Yes John," the voice...Mr. McCoy said.
"So I guess that wasn't a dream?"
"No. And I apologize for that. I shouldn't have frightened you so."
John swallowed and stared hard at the ceiling, his head throbbing like a piston. "Why does my head feel like there's a tank driving through it?"
"I gave you a sedative to stop your seizure. It should wear off in a few moments." Mr. McCoy's voice paused before continuing. "John, do you know what happened to you?"
"I...I think so," he began. "I was in the Danger Room, and I fell. When I woke up, I was here, alone," he said, sounding as if he were trying to convince himself that what he were saying was true. "I think I fell asleep in the elevator," he added sheepishly.
"Yes you did," he said, his voice full of amusement. "I had gone upstairs to get you something to eat. When I opened the elevator doors, there you were, sleeping." His voice changed to questioning. "John...when you woke up earlier, did you have two arms?"
What kind of question is that?
"No..." John said slowly. "When I woke up, I only had the one. I made a new one grow back. Why?"
"Incredible..." Mr. McCoy murmured. Louder, he said, "Excuse me for a moment, John. I am going to fetch Professor Xavier, and let him come see you."
"Uh...ok."
Heavy footsteps marked Mr. McCoy's departure, and John sat up to see his large, blue back disappear into the elevator. Yawning, he lay back down.
I guess if I had a seizure, then it wasn't a dream when he said I had a concussion.
The throbbing in his head began to slowly ebb away.
I guess that aspirin finally decided to kick in. A wry grin spread on his face.
A few minutes later, he heard the heavy footsteps again. Professor Xavier wheeled over beside the bed, and pressed a button along the wall. The top half of the bed began to rise, until John was in a reclining position, allowing him to see more than just the ceiling.
"Hello Professor," John said.
"Good evening, John. And how are you feeling?"
Evening huh? "I've been better," he said, smiling.
Professor Xavier nodded. "I'd like to apologize for the session earlier. I should not have allowed you to participate in something so dangerous, not when you are so new."
"That's ok. It isn't your fault."
"It is my fault. But nonetheless, it helped define your strengths and weaknesses, and in time we will build off of those to ensure such an incident does not happen again."
John nodded. He was right. "So...does this mean I can get out of here and get something to eat?"
The Professor smiled. "Not just yet. We have a small matter to discuss. Do you remember what happened in the Danger Room before you fell?"
"I think so," John began, rubbing his chin and concentrating. "Something picked me up, and it started to swing me around. And then it dropped me. Or someone blew it up."
The Professor looked over at Mr. McCoy. "Hank, would you like to fill him in?"
"Fill me in? Fill me in on what?" John asked.
"John, when you were picked up, you were picked up by your right arm."
"Huh?"
"The tentacle wrapped around his right arm and picked you up. It flung you around in the air, but it never dropped you."
"Ok...then what does that mean? Someone destroyed it and I fell?"
"Not quite. You did fall, but... It wasn't as a result of someone else's actions. You made yourself fall."
John looked at him dumbstruck. "I uh...I don't follow."
"John, you're evolving," said the Professor.
He looked over at the man in the wheelchair. "Huh?"
"John, let me see your right arm."
His eyebrows rose and he looked at the blue-furred man. "What?"
"Let me see your right arm."
"Uh...ok." John extended his right arm.
Hank McCoy took the arm in his large hands and...
John's eyes rolled up in the back of his head, and he collapsed onto the bed.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hehe. Thanks for the name suggestions everyone. I haven't quite found one I like yet, but keep sending ideas, and who knows, it might be the one.
In case anyone is confused, I decided the layout of the mansion was two floors above ground, and two below (4 buttons in the elevator), with Stop and Help making six. Of course, I don't think anyone could have cared, but I felt an explanation was needed. Or not. Carry on, citizens.
Chapter 20
Author's Note: Stuff in italics are thoughts. I love you all. You know, I noticed something about my story title. When I came up with it, I had nothing special in mind. It just happened to be the first line in the song I was listening to at the time ('All Along the Watchtower' by Jimi Hendrix). It's amazing how it ended up being an appropriate title. I didn't mean to make the Danger Room sequence in Chapter 19 seem so intense. I suppose it could have been written better, but it helps prove how horribly outclassed John is as compared to the other mutants. Maybe he'll get a weapon or something, cause Gambit has a pole, so why can't John carry a sword or something?
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from X-Men: Evolution - Marvel and Kid's WB do. I do own my original character, John Jashback, and any arms that fall off.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
John Jashback opened his eyes and saw white. Pale, drab white. But his head rang. And hunger gnawed at his stomach.
Man, I'm tired. What happened to me? Where am I?
He looked down and noticed the white blanket covering his body, pulled up to his neck.
My head hurts. Where am I?
Rhythmic beeping caught his attention, and John looked over to see an EKG device sitting along the left side of his bed. Everything looked normal, but he didn't know how they worked. John looked back up at the ceiling and concentrated.
"How did I get here?" he said aloud.
A million different conflicting memories seemed to come out all together.
The car accident. The car flipped over and pinned my arm. No wait, I fell. But where's my arm? They amputated it. No, I'm a mutant. My arm falls off.
John furrowed his brows as confusion wracked his brain. He reached up to rub his temples, but something was covering them.
"Hello?" he called out. "Anyone there?"
Silence. His head hurt too much to look around.
"Hello?"
More silence.
"If nobody's there, I'm going to sing..." he warned.
"Is there any aspirin around here?" he said to no one in particular. "My head hurts." John sighed and pushed himself up with his one arm.
The room was empty, save for three chairs arrayed around the bed, and the door was open. A counter covered half of one side of the room, with a sink, a mirror, and cabinets above it. John threw back the blanket (finding himself glad only in his boxers, with a bandage on his chest) and got off of the bed. Legs trembling, he walked over and began rooting through the cabinets, finally finding some aspirin. He tossed a couple in his mouth and turned on the faucet. There were no cups that he could see, so he bent his head down and under the mouth, letting the water run into his slacked jaw. It was crude, but it worked. He tossed back his head and swallowed the pills. He looked in the mirror at himself and saw the large bandage wrapped around the base of his scalp, dark circles hung under his eyes, and his face and chest were decorated in various cuts and scratches. He flashed a sickly grin.
Oh yeah, I look good. Or as good as you can look after fighting with a bear. Maybe that's why my head hurts.
Scratching the top of his head, John stuck his head out the door and looked around. The walls and floor were metal, like the Danger Room.
You know, I think a lot of the stuff in here is made of metal. I'd hate to drop a magnet in this place. Or spill water.
"Helloooooo?" John called out.
He walked down the hallway leading from his room barefoot and nearly naked. He reached a door down at the end and stepped through, and the transition was very abrupt. The stark metal walls and floor were gone, and the floor was carpeted and there was wallpaper and various furniture. It looked just like every other hallway of the mansion.
So I'm in the Institute. I am a mutant. I did fall. I am a mutant.
"A mutant." He didn't quite know how to react to it.
Should I be angry? Happy? Ashamed? Proud? Upset? Disappointed?
"I'm a mutant," he said. "A mutant."
His arm. His mutation.
My arm is my mutation.
John looked down at his one arm, and then over to where the other was supposed to be. He clenched his fist and concentrate hard.
This is how it works, right?
He clamped his mouth shut and closed his eyes. He heard a strange sound and...
When he opened his eyes again, he had two arms. John examined his new arm and touched the film that coated it. It stuck to his fingers, but quickly rubbed away. He smiled contentedly and walked on down the hallway.
Where am I going? To find someone? Yes, to find someone.
His head still rang.
When that aspirin going to kick in?
He came upon an elevator and pressed the button to open it. Inside was a small panel with six buttons, none of which offered a real definition of where they went, with the exception of a 'Stop' and 'Help' button. John decided to cut his losses, and pressed every button (except 'Stop' of course). The door slid shut and the elevator began to move up. The elevator stopped, and the door opened again. It was another hallway, carpeted like the other.
Poking out his head he called out. "Helloooo? Anyone there? No? Ok. I'll go now."
He stepped into the elevator and the door closed. All the force pushed down to John's feet, signifying that he was moving up again. Another decorated hallway greeted John when the door opened at the next floor.
"Hellooooo? Anyone there? My head hurts. And I need to wash my arm. Nobody's there? Ok, I'll go now," he said lazily.
The door shut, and the force rose to John's head, meaning the elevator was going back down. John finally noticed a panel above the doors reading the floor he was on.
"F2....F1....B1..."
The door opened and he was back where he had come in initially.
"Nope, I've been here already," he said dreamily. "I'm tired. I'm going to sit down."
He slumped down, leaning against the elevator for support. He fought back a shiver -- exposed skin on cold metal wasn't a comfortable combination. The elevator moved down another floor, revealing a metal-clad corridor. John didn't bother to get up, he just merely called out.
"Hello? I'm in here. I'm hungry. My head hurts. Where are my clothes?" As the elevator door's slid shut, he added, "Bye bye."
He looked back up at the console with the buttons, but decided it was too far away.
"I'm tired," he said sleepily to no one in particular. "I think I'm going to take a nap...right...here..."
His head slumped over onto his shoulder, and he began to snore softly.
**********
John was sitting on a couch, staring at the glowing embers of a dying fire. A very female body lay close him, clutching him as if he were her last vestige of warmth. As hard as he tried to get a look at her face, he couldn't see it.
"Who are you?" John whispered.
"You know who I am," she said, in a voice he didn't recognize.
"No, I don't."
"Yes you do," she said. "Look into your heart, and you will know the answer."
She slipped her hand into his, and squeezed hard. And then she was gone.
**********
John Jashback opened his eyes and saw white. Pale, drab white. But his head rang. And hunger gnawed at his stomach.
Man, I'm tired. What happened to me? Where am I?
He looked down and noticed the white blanket covering his body, pulled up to his neck.
My head hurts. Where am I?
John looked back up at the ceiling and concentrated.
Don't tell me I just dreamed all of that?
A shadow appeared over John's head.
"How are you feeling?" a benevolent voice asked.
"My head hurts. I'm hungry. And I've been having the craziest dreams."
John tried to make out the face looming above him, but it was too dark.
"That's to be expected. Do you know where you are?"
"Hospital?"
"Close." A light flashed in John's eyes. "Open your eyes, please."
John obeyed, and the light flashed deep into each eye. When it disappeared, he blinked hard.
"Just as I expected. You have a concussion. Do you know your name?"
"Sure. I'm John Jashback."
The shadow nodded. "Do you know who I am?" it asked.
John squinted as he tried to make out the face. "Nope. Too dark."
The shadow pulled back into the light and John screamed, and he began to flail about, as if he was having a seizure. In fact, he was having a seizure. His body convulsed and trembled, his screaming cut off, as the only noises he made were sharp grunts and groans. And then everything turned to black.
**********
It was dark. The kind of dark where you can't see your hand in front of you.
"Hello?" called out a voice from the darkness. "Is anyone there?"
It was quiet. The kind of quiet where a pin dropping would sound like an explosion.
"Hello?" the voice called again, resonating through the infinite silence.
"Hel..." the voice was cut off as the speech was replaced with a blood-curdling scream. A scream that shatters the eardrums and scars the soul, a scream that boils the blood and sends fear speeding through the body. And as feverishly had it began it, it stopped.
It was dark.
It was quiet.
**********
John Jashback opened his eyes and saw white. Pale, drab white. But his head throbbed. And hunger gnawed at his stomach.
Wait a minute...
"Is someone there?" John called out.
"Yes," a calm voice said.
"Are you a big, blue gorilla?" John asked.
"Er...yes," the voice said again.
"Mr. McCoy?" John asked tentatively.
"Yes John," the voice...Mr. McCoy said.
"So I guess that wasn't a dream?"
"No. And I apologize for that. I shouldn't have frightened you so."
John swallowed and stared hard at the ceiling, his head throbbing like a piston. "Why does my head feel like there's a tank driving through it?"
"I gave you a sedative to stop your seizure. It should wear off in a few moments." Mr. McCoy's voice paused before continuing. "John, do you know what happened to you?"
"I...I think so," he began. "I was in the Danger Room, and I fell. When I woke up, I was here, alone," he said, sounding as if he were trying to convince himself that what he were saying was true. "I think I fell asleep in the elevator," he added sheepishly.
"Yes you did," he said, his voice full of amusement. "I had gone upstairs to get you something to eat. When I opened the elevator doors, there you were, sleeping." His voice changed to questioning. "John...when you woke up earlier, did you have two arms?"
What kind of question is that?
"No..." John said slowly. "When I woke up, I only had the one. I made a new one grow back. Why?"
"Incredible..." Mr. McCoy murmured. Louder, he said, "Excuse me for a moment, John. I am going to fetch Professor Xavier, and let him come see you."
"Uh...ok."
Heavy footsteps marked Mr. McCoy's departure, and John sat up to see his large, blue back disappear into the elevator. Yawning, he lay back down.
I guess if I had a seizure, then it wasn't a dream when he said I had a concussion.
The throbbing in his head began to slowly ebb away.
I guess that aspirin finally decided to kick in. A wry grin spread on his face.
A few minutes later, he heard the heavy footsteps again. Professor Xavier wheeled over beside the bed, and pressed a button along the wall. The top half of the bed began to rise, until John was in a reclining position, allowing him to see more than just the ceiling.
"Hello Professor," John said.
"Good evening, John. And how are you feeling?"
Evening huh? "I've been better," he said, smiling.
Professor Xavier nodded. "I'd like to apologize for the session earlier. I should not have allowed you to participate in something so dangerous, not when you are so new."
"That's ok. It isn't your fault."
"It is my fault. But nonetheless, it helped define your strengths and weaknesses, and in time we will build off of those to ensure such an incident does not happen again."
John nodded. He was right. "So...does this mean I can get out of here and get something to eat?"
The Professor smiled. "Not just yet. We have a small matter to discuss. Do you remember what happened in the Danger Room before you fell?"
"I think so," John began, rubbing his chin and concentrating. "Something picked me up, and it started to swing me around. And then it dropped me. Or someone blew it up."
The Professor looked over at Mr. McCoy. "Hank, would you like to fill him in?"
"Fill me in? Fill me in on what?" John asked.
"John, when you were picked up, you were picked up by your right arm."
"Huh?"
"The tentacle wrapped around his right arm and picked you up. It flung you around in the air, but it never dropped you."
"Ok...then what does that mean? Someone destroyed it and I fell?"
"Not quite. You did fall, but... It wasn't as a result of someone else's actions. You made yourself fall."
John looked at him dumbstruck. "I uh...I don't follow."
"John, you're evolving," said the Professor.
He looked over at the man in the wheelchair. "Huh?"
"John, let me see your right arm."
His eyebrows rose and he looked at the blue-furred man. "What?"
"Let me see your right arm."
"Uh...ok." John extended his right arm.
Hank McCoy took the arm in his large hands and...
John's eyes rolled up in the back of his head, and he collapsed onto the bed.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hehe. Thanks for the name suggestions everyone. I haven't quite found one I like yet, but keep sending ideas, and who knows, it might be the one.
In case anyone is confused, I decided the layout of the mansion was two floors above ground, and two below (4 buttons in the elevator), with Stop and Help making six. Of course, I don't think anyone could have cared, but I felt an explanation was needed. Or not. Carry on, citizens.