Title: The Dopplegang Effect

Author: Becka

Chapter 06: Whispers in the Dark

o

Xander yawned and rubbed his eyes. After a few minutes, he sat up and glanced at his surroundings. He wasn't in the room Professor Xavier had given him, and he didn't recognize any of the strange equipment around him. He wondered, briefly, where he was and how he'd gotten there.

His cursory glance around the room ended as his eyes fell on the peacefully sleeping mutant on the stretcher next to him.

/Bobby...?/

The previous night rushed back to him: meeting Bobby, their conversation, and the dizziness that had hit him when he'd tried to go back to his room. Blushing, he realized he must have passed out. How embarrassing! The first person who'd been willing to talk to him besides Logan or the Professor, and he'd passed out on him! Bobby had probably brought him to the medical lab, which would explain his surroundings.

The door on the far side of the room opened, and an enormous, furry, blue creature stepped through. He smiled - or at least Xander believed it was a smile, though all the dark-haired man could see were teeth - and said, "Ah! You're awake."

"Um..." Xander replied tactfully, "... good morning...?"

"Good morning, indeed," the man/creature said. His voice seemed friendly enough, but Xander had heard demons with less of a rumbling voice box. "I despaired in thinking you'd ever wake up. Your fever broke some time last night, and considering our dear Logan's healing factor which I believe you've inherited, I thought you'd be up and about within the hour. Perhaps it has to do with whatever caused your bout of unconsciousness. I-"

"'Scuse me," Xander cut in abruptly, after he realized that the man probably wouldn't stop talking on his own, "Who are you?"

"Ah, my manners. I'm terribly sorry." Xander hadn't realized someone with fur could blush. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Dr. Henry McCoy, the doctor, physician, and general health inspector for this facility. And you, from what my young friend told me," he indicated Bobby's sleeping form, "are Xander. Though I'd appreciate it if you could, perhaps, inform me as to the rest of your name."

"Alexander Lavelle Harris, sir," the dark-haired mutant responded in surprise. _This_ was the man, or rather, mutant, whom Willow idolized and insisted was one of the greatest minds of the century. He'd expected someone a little more... conventional. Then again, this was the home of the X-men. Still, for Willow's idol to be a giant blue teddy bear... he cleared his throat and said, "Nice to meet you, Dr. McCoy."

The doctor smiled again and responded kindly, "Please, everyone here calls me Henry or Hank. Or," he glanced pointedly at Bobby who'd begun to stir and continued, "Hank-man, Hankmeister, the Furry Blue Wonder, Sir. Hanksalot..."

"... you forgot Hanky-Panky..." said a sleepy voice.

"Ah, can't have that, can we?" The doctor said good-naturedly. "Good morning, Bobby."

"...mornin'... can I sleep some more...?"

"Certainly, my lethargic young friend, but you'd best wake up within the next half-hour or you'll be late for class."

"... m'kay..."

Turning back to Xander, Henry said, "Anyway, Alexander, please feel free to call me Hank."

Against his will, the dark-haired man felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. "All right, Hank, but only if you promise to call me Xander."

"Done. Now," Henry turned to one of the computers, scanned over some data, and said, "You seem to be fine for the moment, so there's no reason to keep you here. I did several scans on you last night, which will need to be examined further, but until I require you again, you're free to go."

"Thanks, doc," Xander smiled. "Anything else?"

A pair of bright blue eyes leveled with his own, and a more serious voice replied, "If you feel _any_ dizziness or nausea, no matter how trivial it may seem to you, I must insist you come directly to me. Are we clear, young man?"

"Yeesh!" the dark-haired mutant made a face. "If you insist."

"I do." Abruptly the levity returned to Henry's voice. "Robert spends a lot of time down here with me. It's his refuge from the rest of this school, I suppose. If you feel the need to get away, you're more than welcome here anytime, Xander."

"Thank you, Hank." Xander slid off the bed and headed for the door. A soft-spoken, "You're welcome," reached his ears, and feeling more himself than he'd been since he first arrived, he grinned and headed back to his room.

It was still early in the morning so he managed to avoid running into any students. Even if he had run into them, he didn't think he'd mind. Bobby was willing to befriend him, and Hank was like a godsend. He didn't think anything could bring him down.

As he rounded another corner, he heard voices coming from behind one of the closed doors. He was about to pass by when he heard his name mentioned, and curiously he pressed his ear against the door. He recognized Jean's voice immediately, and his nose told him Scott and Storm were there as well; however, he couldn't place the last mutant's smell. He supposed it was someone he hadn't met.

o

Jean sighed and leaned against Scott. "I don't know, Scott. I just... I mean, Xander's not a bad guy. He hasn't been anything but polite to me, but it feels like... oh, I don't know... it feels as though he's stolen something from me."

Both she and Scott sat on the bed. Ororo stood by the window and Warren sprawled across the couch. Jean had asked them to meet in the room she and Scott shared because she felt that they all needed to talk about why Xander bothered them. The first step to dealing with a problem, after all, was to understand it.

Slowly, Storm nodded. "I agree. His power is not an easy one to accept."

Warren rolled his eyes. "For fucksake, just come out and say it. You resent him. I think we all do."

The telepath closed her eyes. "I do resent him. The ability to _learn_ mutant powers? I... we... we're special, you know? We're a team made up of all our different talents, and then he comes along and he's going to be just like us, only he's not _anything_ like us."

"I don't understand him," Scott said softly. "I've been dealing with mutants all of my life, but when I look him in the eyes, I can't read anything. It's like he's empty."

Storm shook her head. "I've never met anyone like him before either. And I think I fear him a little as well."

Warren stretched his wings out. "You all put it so nicely. I _don't_ feel bad about it; I just don't like him, period."

"It's hard, Warren." Jean sighed again, snuggling closer to Scott. "I just wish he would go away."

The conversation continued on, though the gist of what had been voiced was perfectly clear. On the other side of the door, Xander scrubbed at his eyes and quietly made his way back to his room.

o

The rest of the day seemed to trickle by, molasses slow. Xander avoided everyone; both the exercises Logan had taught him, and his natural instincts from having a hyena-spirit locked inside his head enabled him to move through the estate like a ghost. For the most part, he hid in his room, trying his best to ignore their voices. He covered his ears, but thanks to his advanced hearing, their whispers, even those on the other side of the mansion, overwhelmed him.

"... isn't John so _cute_? He's so, like, bad-boy, but still..."

"... today's homework will be a written essay on why you believe humans and mutants should work together..."

"... did you see that guy Mr. Logan brought back..."

"... no way, man. We should play basketball! It's better than dumb old football any day..."

"... yeah, right, like I have any interest in someone like _that_..."

/ ... I hope he notices me... /

"... if your grades slip anymore, Peter, I think you'd need take the class again..."

/ ... please please please let me get an A, I have to get an A... /

"... so, just ignore him, right?..."

/ ... Rogue said he's a dick, but he seems okay to me... /

"... open your textbooks to page 42..."

/ ... Professor Summers is _so_ dreamy... /

/ ... please notice me... /

/ ... have to get an A... /

/ ... is this right? ... /

/ ... notice me... /

/ ... need ... /

/ ... help ... /

/ ... someone... /

/ ... please... /

It was too late. By the time he realized he was hearing their thoughts, not just their words, the voices in their heads had already drowned out his own.

o

It was some time later when he came to awareness. He tried to sit up, only to find he was strapped, rather tightly, to a cold, metal bed. He tried to call out, but his voice refused to get past the block in his throat. Feeling limited, he looked at his surroundings. Metal walls, metal ceiling, and call it a hunch, metal floor as well, though he couldn't quite look over the end of the bed to see it. There was nothing else in the room save the bed and himself.

He wondered where he was and how he'd gotten there. He didn't _see_ any doors, but then, if he were a prisoner here, why would they make it that easy to escape? A few of his other senses perked up - there was a curious odor emanating from an air duct in the corner, and a few muted whispers reached to him from beyond the walls.

As he tried to call out again, a panel on the far wall slid open and a man stepped through. The door slid shut behind him with an audible click. The man's grin was that of a lunatic, so wide it seemed to spread from ear to ear.

His voice was a rumble as he asked, "Do you have any questions for me?"

The knot in his throat uncoiled. The man made his skin crawl, and he stared through hateful eyes, but he _did_ have a question. Swallowing back the bile, he whispered, "Who am I?"

If possible, the man's grin got even wider.

o