AN: so I guess I'll put a few more chapters out.
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The progress was slow. They couldn't do much more than they did on the first night; they only got rid of a few ounces a day. It slowed down even more when they started on the head. Finally Hank had to pull Laurel aside.
"You're wearing yourself thin," he said, handing her a cup of coffee one morning. "Gambit can handle it-he recharges pretty quickly. Why do I get the feeling you're doing more than one thing at a time?"
"Because I am," Laurel said, rubbing her eyes. She had looked in the mirror this morning and saw huge green shadows underneath them. She thought ironically that this was the first time she had even begun to look her age. "The healing process is interfering. She keeps on wanting to wake up. That one time she nearly did, and she almost killed us. She's a trained killer: if she woke up with the metal still clogging her nose or mouth or eyes, she could get to at least two of us before her body shut down again. I don't have any clue how good or how fast she is-the only way I would be able to judge that would be if she had mutant abilities in that area. But normie reflexes, especially when they've been trained well, can be good enough to take us by surprise. Besides," she added, taking a gulp of coffee, "think of the terror she would feel if she couldn't move or see for those few moments. I don't want her to go through anything worse. I have to keep her asleep, and the only way I can do that is by using my telepathic powers."
"And they are rather weak," Hank said, nodding in understanding. "No wonder you look exhausted. But we're almost done, correct?"
"Yeah," Laurel said. "I think we'll wait until she's healthier to ask if she wants the skeleton reinforcement to stay in. That way we can both recover at the same time. We'll be done with what's left in about two days. I'd like to get you to do an x-ray to make sure we aren't forgetting anything. No little shards and all that."
"Sure," he replied. They both looked up as Remy stumbled into the room. Bleary-eyed and tousle-headed, he made his way staggeringly to the coffee pot, grabbed his tall glass, and poured himself a large one. After drinking down about half of the glass in one go, he blinked up at them.
"Ready to start again?" Laurel asked cheerfully.
"You know Gambit ain't a morning person, chere," he grumbled, pulling a stocking cap over his rumpled hair. "De only time I see de sunrise is comin' de other way aroun'."
"Thief," she mocked.
"Copycat," he returned, a grin finally quirking up a side of his mouth.
"Swamp rat."
"Canadian goose."
"Tease."
"Nun."
Laurel blushed. She wasn't exactly a nun! Just a bit… choosy. "Bony little-"
"Now now, children," Hank interrupted before it could get too far. "Let's put this behind us and get to work. Or do I have to separate you?" he asked, with his hands on his hips.
"But Beast…!" Remy protested. "We just havin' a little fun."
"Right. And I don't want to see that fun start a brawl in my lab," he said.
"Come on, Cajun," Laurel said. "Race you to the lab."
"Right behind you, chere," Remy said. But as Laurel sped down the hallway, he extended his bo staff and used it to vault over her head. "Or, right in fron' of you, I should say."
"Cheating!" she called. Hank sighed, and lumbered after them.
Laurel sped into the lab, running straight into Remy's back. She steadied herself, and looked up at him, frozen in place. She followed his eyes to where their patient was crouched on the table. Remy slid his eyes to her, and she could read the uncertainty in them. "Feeling better?" she asked carefully, stepping forward and slightly in front of the Cajun.
She was close enough to see the woman's eyes flicker from ice-blue to black and back to ice-blue again. A certain stoniness crept into her features, and in alarm Laurel tried to reach her mind. She was blocked by a familiar feeling, and pushed Remy aside as the woman leapt, her fingernail-like claws extended.
The woman was fast! Laurel could barely jump sideways as she felt the claws sink into her side, next to her heart. She choked, fighting for breath, as she looked into the woman's eyes. As she expected, there was no feeling, no remorse or even enjoyment in the blank stare. There was a snick, and Laurel felt the claws withdraw as the woman turned to meet Remy, bo staff extended and standing at ready. She fell against the wall behind her, as Hank entered the room.
"Laurel!"
"It's alright," she said, moving her hand from her side slightly. "Help Gambit. I'll be fine."
Hank looked down to where the wound in her side was closing up even now, and nodded. He leapt across the room and hit the woman with a balled-up fist on the shoulder as she slashed at Remy. She staggered, and spun to cut him, but he leapt and sprung off the sides of the wall, coming back to land in front of her. During that time Remy put his staff down and jumped against it, using both feet to kick her in the back of the head. This sent her forward into Hank's reach, and this time he took both hands and clubbed her on the back of the neck with all his strength. To his horror he was sure he felt bones crack. But she was up and recovering much quicker than that would have allowed.
Laurel focused. She could feel the control serum lingering in the woman's mind. It was still a liquid, a chemical floating around in her spinal column, and she had slight control over it. She reached out with her father's power and began to push all the liquid out of the woman's system. It took the past of least resistance: the way it had come in.
The two men stopped as the woman collapsed and fell to the ground, clutching at the back of her head in pain. Hank stepped forward to take a closer look, and it was only the sweep of Remy's bo staff that knocked him out of the way of her claws as she lashed out. "Careful, mon amie," Remy said. She went back to her neck, and Hank could hear a hissing sound. From what he could see it was as if someone had dropped acid on the back of her neck, in a familiar circle-patterned burn. But it was actually bubbling and coming out of her neck. He shot a glance at Laurel across the room. She had her hand at her head, concentrating.
The last of the control serum was pushed out of the woman's neck, and Laurel sent her to sleep again, silently apologizing for all the pain. Her legs were suddenly unsteady and she sank to the ground. Remy was at her side in a heartbeat as Hank levered the woman to the table again.
"You alright, chere?" he asked.
She nodded and tried to stand. "That took a lot out of me," she gasped weakly. "I'll-I'll be fine."
Remy caught her as she began to fall again, sweeping her up in his arms carefully. "Oh no you don't, petite. You is goin' back to bed right now."
"I agree," Hank said, standing behind him. "The last thing you need to do is try to work more. We'll bring you lunch after you take a nap. In the meantime," he said, turning to gaze at the patient, "I'll use this as an opportunity to run the x-rays and re-organize my lab after this little fiasco." His eyes softened. "Go to sleep. You can't do everything."
.
.
.
.
The progress was slow. They couldn't do much more than they did on the first night; they only got rid of a few ounces a day. It slowed down even more when they started on the head. Finally Hank had to pull Laurel aside.
"You're wearing yourself thin," he said, handing her a cup of coffee one morning. "Gambit can handle it-he recharges pretty quickly. Why do I get the feeling you're doing more than one thing at a time?"
"Because I am," Laurel said, rubbing her eyes. She had looked in the mirror this morning and saw huge green shadows underneath them. She thought ironically that this was the first time she had even begun to look her age. "The healing process is interfering. She keeps on wanting to wake up. That one time she nearly did, and she almost killed us. She's a trained killer: if she woke up with the metal still clogging her nose or mouth or eyes, she could get to at least two of us before her body shut down again. I don't have any clue how good or how fast she is-the only way I would be able to judge that would be if she had mutant abilities in that area. But normie reflexes, especially when they've been trained well, can be good enough to take us by surprise. Besides," she added, taking a gulp of coffee, "think of the terror she would feel if she couldn't move or see for those few moments. I don't want her to go through anything worse. I have to keep her asleep, and the only way I can do that is by using my telepathic powers."
"And they are rather weak," Hank said, nodding in understanding. "No wonder you look exhausted. But we're almost done, correct?"
"Yeah," Laurel said. "I think we'll wait until she's healthier to ask if she wants the skeleton reinforcement to stay in. That way we can both recover at the same time. We'll be done with what's left in about two days. I'd like to get you to do an x-ray to make sure we aren't forgetting anything. No little shards and all that."
"Sure," he replied. They both looked up as Remy stumbled into the room. Bleary-eyed and tousle-headed, he made his way staggeringly to the coffee pot, grabbed his tall glass, and poured himself a large one. After drinking down about half of the glass in one go, he blinked up at them.
"Ready to start again?" Laurel asked cheerfully.
"You know Gambit ain't a morning person, chere," he grumbled, pulling a stocking cap over his rumpled hair. "De only time I see de sunrise is comin' de other way aroun'."
"Thief," she mocked.
"Copycat," he returned, a grin finally quirking up a side of his mouth.
"Swamp rat."
"Canadian goose."
"Tease."
"Nun."
Laurel blushed. She wasn't exactly a nun! Just a bit… choosy. "Bony little-"
"Now now, children," Hank interrupted before it could get too far. "Let's put this behind us and get to work. Or do I have to separate you?" he asked, with his hands on his hips.
"But Beast…!" Remy protested. "We just havin' a little fun."
"Right. And I don't want to see that fun start a brawl in my lab," he said.
"Come on, Cajun," Laurel said. "Race you to the lab."
"Right behind you, chere," Remy said. But as Laurel sped down the hallway, he extended his bo staff and used it to vault over her head. "Or, right in fron' of you, I should say."
"Cheating!" she called. Hank sighed, and lumbered after them.
Laurel sped into the lab, running straight into Remy's back. She steadied herself, and looked up at him, frozen in place. She followed his eyes to where their patient was crouched on the table. Remy slid his eyes to her, and she could read the uncertainty in them. "Feeling better?" she asked carefully, stepping forward and slightly in front of the Cajun.
She was close enough to see the woman's eyes flicker from ice-blue to black and back to ice-blue again. A certain stoniness crept into her features, and in alarm Laurel tried to reach her mind. She was blocked by a familiar feeling, and pushed Remy aside as the woman leapt, her fingernail-like claws extended.
The woman was fast! Laurel could barely jump sideways as she felt the claws sink into her side, next to her heart. She choked, fighting for breath, as she looked into the woman's eyes. As she expected, there was no feeling, no remorse or even enjoyment in the blank stare. There was a snick, and Laurel felt the claws withdraw as the woman turned to meet Remy, bo staff extended and standing at ready. She fell against the wall behind her, as Hank entered the room.
"Laurel!"
"It's alright," she said, moving her hand from her side slightly. "Help Gambit. I'll be fine."
Hank looked down to where the wound in her side was closing up even now, and nodded. He leapt across the room and hit the woman with a balled-up fist on the shoulder as she slashed at Remy. She staggered, and spun to cut him, but he leapt and sprung off the sides of the wall, coming back to land in front of her. During that time Remy put his staff down and jumped against it, using both feet to kick her in the back of the head. This sent her forward into Hank's reach, and this time he took both hands and clubbed her on the back of the neck with all his strength. To his horror he was sure he felt bones crack. But she was up and recovering much quicker than that would have allowed.
Laurel focused. She could feel the control serum lingering in the woman's mind. It was still a liquid, a chemical floating around in her spinal column, and she had slight control over it. She reached out with her father's power and began to push all the liquid out of the woman's system. It took the past of least resistance: the way it had come in.
The two men stopped as the woman collapsed and fell to the ground, clutching at the back of her head in pain. Hank stepped forward to take a closer look, and it was only the sweep of Remy's bo staff that knocked him out of the way of her claws as she lashed out. "Careful, mon amie," Remy said. She went back to her neck, and Hank could hear a hissing sound. From what he could see it was as if someone had dropped acid on the back of her neck, in a familiar circle-patterned burn. But it was actually bubbling and coming out of her neck. He shot a glance at Laurel across the room. She had her hand at her head, concentrating.
The last of the control serum was pushed out of the woman's neck, and Laurel sent her to sleep again, silently apologizing for all the pain. Her legs were suddenly unsteady and she sank to the ground. Remy was at her side in a heartbeat as Hank levered the woman to the table again.
"You alright, chere?" he asked.
She nodded and tried to stand. "That took a lot out of me," she gasped weakly. "I'll-I'll be fine."
Remy caught her as she began to fall again, sweeping her up in his arms carefully. "Oh no you don't, petite. You is goin' back to bed right now."
"I agree," Hank said, standing behind him. "The last thing you need to do is try to work more. We'll bring you lunch after you take a nap. In the meantime," he said, turning to gaze at the patient, "I'll use this as an opportunity to run the x-rays and re-organize my lab after this little fiasco." His eyes softened. "Go to sleep. You can't do everything."
