Chapter 3
Disclaimer: I own nothing except the International Assassin of course.
Back at the Institute Professor X was waiting down in the medical lab with Logan, when Storm came rushing in with Remy in her arms and Hank on her heels. She put him down on the operating table and started to take his clothes off.
"FLAMIN' HELL!" exclaimed Logan when he saw Remy.
"Where should we start?" the Professor asked Hank.
"His left leg, it looks like an arrow's stuck it."
"What else?" asked Logan as Strom went for Remy's belt.
"He has a deep gash on his arm, a slice on his forehead, a few broken ribs and he's lost a lot of blood. We need to move fast he's going in and out of consciousness" said Hank.
Once Storm pants-ed Remy the Professor took a blood sample to determine what type Remy was. The Professor returned about a minute later with three bags of Type O, hung one of them up and put an I.V. in Remy.
"Logan, hold him down, Storm, push that cart of utensils over here." said Hank as he turned his attention to Remy's leg.
Storm brought the tray over and Hank began work.
"Ok Storm, take that towel and put some pressure below the wound. Logan make sure you have a good grip on his shoulders." Hank ordered.
Remy was wide awake with only the pressure from the towel. When he looked over and saw what Hank was about to do. His fist instinct was to get up and run like hell! Unfortunately, he was in way too much pain to even think about running or walking for that matter, yet he was still able to muster enough strength to try and shove Logan off.
"Whoa, Hank we gotta live one!" said Logan.
"Just a few more seconds!" said Hank deep into his work.
Storm winced as Hank pulled the thin shaft of metal from Remy's leg.
"Uh, Hank, he just stopped breathing," said Logan.
"In a minute," said Hank as he dressed the wound.
Remy started breathing again gradually, but almost passed out when he saw Hank preparing a shot.
"Mon diu!" yelled Remy, "we can discuss dis, non?!"
"Good morning, Mr. Labeau. I'm glad you finally decided to join us." said Hank in his usual calming demeanor, "Do you want to tell us what happened?"
"On one condition." said Remy.
"What?" asked Hank.
"You don' give Remy no sedative shots."
"Done," said Hank.
"Now, who beat the crap out of you?" demanded Logan.
"Magneto," said Remy.
"But why, child?" asked Storm rather horrified.
"Remy tried to resign."
"Jesus," said Logan.
"Ow!" yelped Remy, as Hank gave Remy a shot in the thigh, "Remy, tought we had de deal?!"
"We do, Mr. LaBeau, that was a pain killer not a sedative." explained Hank, "Alright, Logan let him up and go help Professor Xavier. Storm, bring that tray over here, let's work on his arm."
"Storm, go prep the X-ray machine, I want to take a closer look at his leg and his ribcage." said Hank, "Does it hurt to breath?" he asked Remy as he dressed the gash on his arm.
"Non"
"Good, then your ribs are probably just cracked and not broken," Hank explained.
"Is dat spost' t'be de up side?" asked Remy.
"Kid yer lucky yer not dead," said Logan wiping some blood off his hands.
"Why did you resign?" asked the Professor.
"Dere's no future wid Magneto." said Remy.
Hank motioned for Storm to bring the X-ray machine over.
"Oh really, how did you finally come to that conclusion?" asked Logan sarcastically.
"Whoa!" Remy jumped when the X-ray machine just seemed to appear beside him, the stainless steel medical tray went sailing across the room and took out a computer chair before putting a sizable dent in the wall, "OW!" maybe he shouldn't have moved.
"Good thing he's not skidish, Hank." said Logan off to the side, half laughing.
"What's say we wake you up when we're done?" asked Hank.
"Wat's dat spost' ta mean?" asked Remy more than a little worried.
"Oh, Logan, would you step over here a minute?" asked Hank.
So, Logan assumed his previous position of holding Remy, while Hank fitted a gas mask over Remy's nose and mouth.
Remy tried to squirm away, but it didn't work.
"Take it easy, kid," said Logan, "It's all gonna be over when you wake up."
Slowly Remy's eye's started and finally his body went limp.
Disclaimer: I own nothing except the International Assassin of course.
Back at the Institute Professor X was waiting down in the medical lab with Logan, when Storm came rushing in with Remy in her arms and Hank on her heels. She put him down on the operating table and started to take his clothes off.
"FLAMIN' HELL!" exclaimed Logan when he saw Remy.
"Where should we start?" the Professor asked Hank.
"His left leg, it looks like an arrow's stuck it."
"What else?" asked Logan as Strom went for Remy's belt.
"He has a deep gash on his arm, a slice on his forehead, a few broken ribs and he's lost a lot of blood. We need to move fast he's going in and out of consciousness" said Hank.
Once Storm pants-ed Remy the Professor took a blood sample to determine what type Remy was. The Professor returned about a minute later with three bags of Type O, hung one of them up and put an I.V. in Remy.
"Logan, hold him down, Storm, push that cart of utensils over here." said Hank as he turned his attention to Remy's leg.
Storm brought the tray over and Hank began work.
"Ok Storm, take that towel and put some pressure below the wound. Logan make sure you have a good grip on his shoulders." Hank ordered.
Remy was wide awake with only the pressure from the towel. When he looked over and saw what Hank was about to do. His fist instinct was to get up and run like hell! Unfortunately, he was in way too much pain to even think about running or walking for that matter, yet he was still able to muster enough strength to try and shove Logan off.
"Whoa, Hank we gotta live one!" said Logan.
"Just a few more seconds!" said Hank deep into his work.
Storm winced as Hank pulled the thin shaft of metal from Remy's leg.
"Uh, Hank, he just stopped breathing," said Logan.
"In a minute," said Hank as he dressed the wound.
Remy started breathing again gradually, but almost passed out when he saw Hank preparing a shot.
"Mon diu!" yelled Remy, "we can discuss dis, non?!"
"Good morning, Mr. Labeau. I'm glad you finally decided to join us." said Hank in his usual calming demeanor, "Do you want to tell us what happened?"
"On one condition." said Remy.
"What?" asked Hank.
"You don' give Remy no sedative shots."
"Done," said Hank.
"Now, who beat the crap out of you?" demanded Logan.
"Magneto," said Remy.
"But why, child?" asked Storm rather horrified.
"Remy tried to resign."
"Jesus," said Logan.
"Ow!" yelped Remy, as Hank gave Remy a shot in the thigh, "Remy, tought we had de deal?!"
"We do, Mr. LaBeau, that was a pain killer not a sedative." explained Hank, "Alright, Logan let him up and go help Professor Xavier. Storm, bring that tray over here, let's work on his arm."
"Storm, go prep the X-ray machine, I want to take a closer look at his leg and his ribcage." said Hank, "Does it hurt to breath?" he asked Remy as he dressed the gash on his arm.
"Non"
"Good, then your ribs are probably just cracked and not broken," Hank explained.
"Is dat spost' t'be de up side?" asked Remy.
"Kid yer lucky yer not dead," said Logan wiping some blood off his hands.
"Why did you resign?" asked the Professor.
"Dere's no future wid Magneto." said Remy.
Hank motioned for Storm to bring the X-ray machine over.
"Oh really, how did you finally come to that conclusion?" asked Logan sarcastically.
"Whoa!" Remy jumped when the X-ray machine just seemed to appear beside him, the stainless steel medical tray went sailing across the room and took out a computer chair before putting a sizable dent in the wall, "OW!" maybe he shouldn't have moved.
"Good thing he's not skidish, Hank." said Logan off to the side, half laughing.
"What's say we wake you up when we're done?" asked Hank.
"Wat's dat spost' ta mean?" asked Remy more than a little worried.
"Oh, Logan, would you step over here a minute?" asked Hank.
So, Logan assumed his previous position of holding Remy, while Hank fitted a gas mask over Remy's nose and mouth.
Remy tried to squirm away, but it didn't work.
"Take it easy, kid," said Logan, "It's all gonna be over when you wake up."
Slowly Remy's eye's started and finally his body went limp.