Chapter 6: The Secret
He stared in shock at the shambles in the living room. Most glaring, and what caught his eye immediately, was the hole in the plaster of the wall directly in front of him. He stepped into the entryway of the apartment, took two steps forward, and touched the hole in the wall, his fingers tracing the smear of blood trailing down the wall to the floor. His eyes followed the trail to the huge stain on the carpet, and then followed the smears away from the stain until he saw Amanda.
He didn't hear the sound of grief, anguish, panic and desperation he uttered as he crossed the few steps to her side. She was lying facedown, still dressed in the lavender satin pajamas he had seen her put on before he had left just a few hours earlier. There were red and brown stains all over the satin now; and as he turned her over and he saw the pallor of her face under the bruises and blood, his heart nearly stopped beating. "Amanda," he breathed, a ragged sound of anguish, as he slid an arm under her neck and back and scooped her upper body up into his arms. "Amanda, Amanda, Amanda," he cried, rocking her in his arms, unaware of the tears that soaked into her hair from his eyes. "Amanda…" he froze. There was a gash on her cheek that was still bleeding; the blood was streaking his hands and shirt, only to be replaced by fresh blood.
Dead people didn't bleed.
He reached for her wrist, frantically, but couldn't find a pulse. He reached up, higher, feeling for the pulse point in her neck, and drew a great, shaking sob of relief. She was still alive!
He hesitated only for a moment. She was badly injured and she was dying; of that he had no doubt. The medical technology at the city hospital, while good, couldn't save her. If he got her back to the mansion, she'd have a better chance of surviving with the Shi'ar technology available in his med labs. He scooped her up in his arms as he shouldered his way out of the self-closing door and ran for the van he drove.
He put her up in the front passenger seat, being careful not to jar her any more than he had to and exacerbate her internal injuries. She was completely out, almost comatose, and he couldn't begin to imagine how she must have been feeling before she passed out. He didn't allow himself to speculate on what happened to her; he simply focused on the road, driving as fast as possible, swerving around potholes and rough spots in the road to keep from jouncing his injured lover.
As luck would have it, Scott was just driving up the front drive to pick Jean up from where she waited on the front steps. She must have sensed his panic and agitation, because she dropped her purse and ran toward the van as it came to a stop at the door, brakes squealing. Scott got out, ignoring the running engine and the open door, frantically yanking the van's passenger door open to unbuckle the seatbelt around Amanda's body. Jean lifted her out of the seat telekinetically and gently straightened her out on a cushion of air, and then ran after Hank into the mansion. Hank vaguely 'heard' Jean speaking telepathically to Xavier as they ran down the halls to the elevator that was designed to take injured patients down to the medlab, but concentrated on emptying himself of all emotion as he steeled himself for the marathon surgery he knew he had to bring himself to perform.
He had a naturally sensitive nature. Being a doctor, however, called for a certain distance from the patients so that he could do what was necessary to save lives. He'd lost count of how many times he'd had to distance himself from his friends' pain in order to help him. He'd had to steel himself against Ororo's gasps of pain as he stitched her leg up the last time they'd tangled with Magneto; had to bite his lip as Jean fought tears as he set the arm she had broken when a Sentinel had crumbled a wall on top of her. He cared about them; they were his friends, and he loved them.
He loved them enough to do what he had to do, to hurt them in order to heal them. As Jean laid Amanda out on one of the biobeds, a special piece of Shi'ar equipment that could keep track of a patient's temperature and vitals without wires or electrodes, he forced himself to take that mental step back. He had to, to save Amanda's life. He was quite thankful that she was unconscious; she had to be suffering acutely, and though he cried inside to know how much more he would have to hurt her before he had pieced her shattered body together, he was glad he wouldn't have to hear her scream with that pain. He mechanically scrubbed down, held still as Jean put a plastic surgical gown on over his clothes, and bent grimly to his task.
Jean had to fight her own tears as she felt the anguish Hank was forcing deep inside himself. She concentrated on handing him the instruments he required, and refused to allow herself to wonder what had happened to Amanda. If she started to think about that she would get angry. She was linked to Xavier telepathically, keeping him apprised of what was happening as Charles made his way downstairs from his second floor study to the third sublevel of the basement, where the medlabs were. She couldn't keep her shields up while being linked, and if she got angry she might project, and disturb Hank as he tried to save Amanda's life. The young woman's life depended on Hank; if he slipped, or faltered, she could die.
Xavier, Betsy, Warren, Jubilee, and Logan soon joined Scott in the observation room adjoining the operating room. "Jean says Amanda's pretty bad," he told them, more to allay his own nervousness than anything else; Scott was 'listening' in on Jean's mind through the permanent husband-and-wife bond they shared, and Logan, Warren, Jubilee, and Betsy were 'eavesdropping' through the girls' telepathy. "She has a fractured cheekbone and one dislocated arm. The other upper arm bone is fractured, though not severely. Her collarbone is fractured, as are three ribs. Two ribs are broken, her right hip and upper thigh is fractured, one ankle sprained." Xavier fell silent, horrified at the extent of the injuries Amanda had suffered, and then went on in a strangled, choked voice, "She has a mild concussion, a punctured lung, badly bruised diaphragm and bleeding stomach, bruised and scrambled intestines, kidneys bruised so badly one is barely functioning, and numerous lacerations, bruises, and welts. Jean says Hank found her in a completely destroyed apartment. There was blood everywhere. And she's in terrible pain." Xavier took a deep breath, then burst out with the question that was on all of their minds. "What the hell happened to her?!"
* * *
"From the amount and types of physiological damage she sustained, I would venture to guess that she was beaten badly." Hank's voice and hands trembled in weariness as he took the cup of hot tea Ororo handed him. He took a sip, and then a full mouthful, ignoring the pain as it scalded his mouth. Maybe he would stop tasting the bitter ashes of anguish as he had fought to save his beloved's life. He had succeeded; Amanda was hanging on, the internal bleeding stopped, her broken bones set, her limbs bandaged so they were immobile, and a restraining strap across her chest so that if she woke unexpectedly she wouldn't start writhing in pain and fall off the bed.
He had set up an IV of painkiller in her arm to ease her agony, but he didn't want to overdose her, and had set the dosage a little lower than her height and weight required. When she awoke he would adjust the strength of the medication based on the amount of pain she was experiencing. "She was not sexually assaulted, thank God." He wrapped his hands around the mug, seeking comfort in its warmth. He looked up. "Charles, I am sorry; I thought of nothing but to bring her here as fast as possible; I believed that had I called an ambulance and had her taken to a regular hospital, she would not now be alive."
Xavier put a hand on his shoulder. "You did the right thing, Hank; I have nothing to say. I saw the extent of her injuries; the city hospital could not have saved her life. Her only chance was here. Have you any idea what caused her injuries?"
Hank stared into the cup. "Last night, when Amanda and I attempted to make love on her bed, it collapsed. When I entered her apartment I believe I remember seeing a pile of metal pieces on the floor that must have been her bed frame. One was extremely bloody. I believe someone may have knocked on the door, taken her by surprise when she opened it, and forced his way in and commenced assaulting her." His voice was barely above a whisper. "Amanda would have fought. She wouldn't have just lain down for this. Therefore the person who forced his entry into her apartment must have had a friend with him, or possibly two, to hold her down while they beat her. That implies that they were there specifically to do what they did; that it was premeditated. Who could hate her so much they would want to beat her to death? And if they know they did not succeed, will they return to try again?"
"When she wakes she can answer all our questions," Ororo said firmly. "Until she does we can do nothing but speculate, which will get us nowhere. Hank, you are exhausted; you have been in the operating room for almost six hours." He looked vaguely surprised; he hadn't realized how long it had been. "Come upstairs and eat. You have to be starving. Remy and Rogue made a beef roast, done rare the way you prefer it." She took his arm and tried to pull him out of his chair.
He shook his head, remaining stubbornly seated where he was, in the observation room overlooking Amanda's bed. He couldn't eat; he was too nervous and tired to eat. "Thank you, Ororo," he said, "But I am not hungry. Please, go ahead upstairs and refresh yourself. I shall remain here." And nothing anyone could say would make him change his mind.
* * *
Ororo wandered down to the medlabs later that night, holding a tray with a plate on it. She was intending to make sure Hank ate at least part of the meal that had been prepared. She rounded the corner, and stopped.
Hank was slumped over in his chair by Amanda's bed, his head resting on the pillow beside hers, their faces only inches apart. His eyes were closed, and he was asleep, lips slightly parted, shadows of exhaustion making dark blue pools under his eyes. Ororo quietly placed her tray on a table by the door and approached the bed. "Hank," she whispered, tapping his shoulder gently, "Come on. You will get stiff if you sit in that position too long." She slid an arm under his and pulled him upright. "Go lie down," she told him gently. "I will stay with Amanda."
"No…" he mumbled, still half asleep. "I must stay…"
She blew out her breath in a gentle sigh of exasperation. "Hank, you will be of little use to her if you collapse from exhaustion. Come. Lie down on the bed beside her; that way you can get the rest you need without having to leave the medlabs."
He was too sleepy to protest, and she soon had him installed on the bed beside Amanda. She pulled the foil cover over the plate and was putting the untouched meal into Hank's lab refrigerator when she heard a low moan. She swung around, and saw Amanda stirring on the bed.
Amanda moaned as consciousness returned. Her body was one massive ball of pain, slightly dulled by medication but not completely gone. She kept her eyes closed while she assessed the pain in her body and the sounds from around her. There was the steady hum of machinery, and a soft beeping that sounded much like a heart monitor. She carefully opened her eyes.
There was a tall, silver-haired woman standing beside her bed, her features dimly lit from the single lamp sitting on the edge of the table beside her bed. She leaned over Amanda as she said softly, "How do you feel?"
"Terrible," Amanda croaked. "I hurt so much…oh God…Where am I?" She tried to sit up, but the woman placed a hand on her chest and gently pressed her back down onto the bed. Amanda struggled against the hand for a moment more, then gave in and lay still. It hurt too much to fight.
"Hank brought you here," the woman said quietly. She adjusted something on Amanda's IV, and Amanda found herself drifting off into darkness.
Xavier came down some time later, at Ororo's and Hank's request, and Ororo told him that Amanda had awakened. "I adjusted the pain medication in her IV to put her back to sleep because she asked where she was, and I did not know what to tell her."
Xavier sighed. "She cannot be moved at all?" he said to Hank.
"Only at grave risk to her life," Hank said. "She may have awakened, but she still has a great deal of healing to do. Any movement now will undoubtedly slow or set back the healing process."
He sighed. "I don't see any other option. We must tell her the truth."
When Amanda awakened again, Hank was sitting beside her bed, holding her hand. She smiled weakly at him. "Hi," she whispered.
"Hello," he said, standing up and checking on a monitor over her head. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I've just been run over by a truck," she said dryly. "Other than that, I'm doing great. How about you?"
"I've been worried," Hank said quietly. "Amanda, what happened?"
Tears filled her eyes and she tried to blink them back as she stared at the ceiling. Funny, it didn't look like the ceiling of a hospital room. "The father of a couple of those boys we fought with last night brought some of his friends to beat me up," she said.
"Two nights," Hank corrected her gently. "It was Saturday night when we went to the theater. It's almost six o'clock Tuesday morning now."
"My classes!" Amanda tried to sit up, but Hank held her down firmly. "It is all right," he said. "Jubilee called the college and informed them that you would be unable to teach for a while."
Amanda closed her eyes. "The rent's due on my apartment," she said. "If I don't get paid, I'll lose my apartment."
"Do not worry about that," he said firmly. "It appears you will be staying here for some time anyway."
"Where is here?" Amanda had a fuzzy recollection of waking up earlier and talking to a pretty young woman with long silver hair, but she wasn't sure if it was just another dream. "I think I talked to someone already…she had long silver hair…"
The light brightened in the room, and she turned her head, to see the woman come forward. She was beautiful, Amanda thought. Tall, graceful, with chocolate skin and silver hair, the color combination might have looked odd on anyone else, but on her it was stunning.
"That was I you spoke to," the woman said, walking over to Amanda's bed with a cup of water in her hand. She handed the cup to Hank, and he carefully slid a hand under Amanda's head and supported her as he held the cup for her to drink from. She swallowed the water gratefully, sighing as it soothed the soreness in her throat caused by her screaming. "I am sorry, Amanda. I did not know what to tell you. I put you back to sleep until I could answer your question."
Amanda was looking quite puzzled. "So where am I?" she asked.
"You are in my house," came a quiet voice from the doorway. Amanda looked past Hank to the kind-looking older bald man sitting in…
Her mouth dropped open, and stayed open. He smiled thinly at her, and said gently, "This will be a lot to absorb all at once, my dear, but please try. My name is Charles Xavier; this is my house. Hank lives here and works here; there is a fully-equipped laboratory just down the hall from this room. This is where we take care of our injuries."
"Our? We? Who's we?" she asked.
"We are the X-Men," Xavier said. "This is our…base, if you want to use that term."
Amanda looked around the room. It all made sense. This wasn't a hospital, it was a private residence. But…
"All those funny machines…"
Xavier said quietly, "They are a loan from someone who lives…quite far away. We are not constrained to conform to federal standards for medical equipment, so our equipment will be quite different from the normal technology you would expect to see in a hospital. They are also much more effective at promoting an early healing."
"How early?" Amanda asked suspiciously.
Hank consulted a screen somewhere over her head. "Well, as you're not a mutant, the technology works a bit more slowly, but at your current rate of healing, you should be up and around by next Monday."
"All this?" Amanda stared in disbelief at the splints and bandages all over her legs, arms, and ribs. "This I'm going to have to see."