Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Men or their world, and am making no money
from this story. Corrinth owns Dr Ilehana Xavier. I own Blaze.
A/N: Reviews are gold dust, and duly appreciated.
08
"Storm!"
Ororo lifted her head slowly from where it was, resting on her arms as she tried to get some sleep. For a moment she didn't know where she was, her fine white hair blurring the surroundings. She pushed it away. The infirmary. Blaze.
"Storm! Quick, She chokin'!"
Gambit was backing away from the bed on which Blaze lay on her back as if he was in shock. He didn't know what to do. Blaze was turning blue, retching and writhing, her spine heaving away from the bed violently.
"Get her on her side!" Storm ordered Gambit to help her. Unthinking Ororo slid her slender fingers in Blaze's mouth, clearing the wet, slimy obstruction from the redhead's airway. Blaze retched again, splattering horrid, bile-filled vomit over the bed, floor and Storm. Two frantic gulps of breath were all Blaze managed before she threw up again, fiercely.
Gambit ran around the other side of the bed, pulling Blaze's hair clear of her face even though it was already matted not just with blood but vomit too. He put a comforting hand on the base of her heaving spine, stroked her brow and whispered to her. He knew that really there was little chance she could hear him, but he had to try. Blaze coughed, and then threw up again. Storm turned her face away in disgust.
"Go get washed and get some rest, Storm." A voice in the doorway was calming, its telepathic owner washing the room with as much peace as she could muster. That was hard; Ilehana did not like the look of this at all. Logan had said nothing about Blaze vomiting, just that she'd flipped and hurt her arm. "You've done really well, but I can handle this now."
"Thank you." Ororo tried to smile at the Professor's daughter, tried to find some humour in her own vomit-drenched appearance. There was none, so she gave up and left.
"Just for the record." Ilehana spoke quietly to Gambit, watching him as he stroked Blaze's disgusting hair. "As your doctor, I have to advise you to go get some rest Remy." He looked up at her, drawing a humourless smile from Vixen. "But I know you wont. Like I said, it was just for the record." He nodded his thanks, taking a seat by Blaze's bedside as Ilehana quickly scanned Storm's notes.
Blaze had stopped vomiting. Not retching, she was still shaking from head to foot every few minutes, but she had nothing left to expunge from her stomach. Ilehana looked quickly over Blaze's injuries, admiring the dexterity of Storm's stitches. A damp cloth cleaned the girl's rose-red lips, soothed the heat from her brow. Stepping gingerly around the vomit- covered floor, Ilehana decided to let Blaze rest and clean that up next. The things she did for her friends.
"Do you have any idea what might have triggered this off?" She asked Gambit quietly, not quite knowing what exactly 'this' was. A nervous breakdown, accidental injuries, whatever, she'd expected a Blaze she could talk to. But this unconsciousness......... To Ilehana's telepathy Blaze felt distant. Not just withdrawn, but as if this time and place did not exist for the former thief. And the vomiting was a darker side effect, one she could not trace the cause of.
"Non." Gambit replied equally as quietly. Then, in a fit of helplessness he pushed off the bed, throwing himself away from Blaze. Some powerless piece of pharmaceutical equipment found itself in his hand, charged by the slightest touch, throw and exploding across the room. Ilehana winced, that particular tool had been expensive, but more worrying was the effect all this was having on Gambit. She didn't want to have to deal with two of her friends breaking down. "This is merde, just fuckin' merde Vixen!"
"Wash your mouth out le Beau."
It was a whisper. Nothing more than that. Both Ilehana and Gambit looked abruptly at the still figure of the girl on the bed. Blaze didn't speak again.
"Blaze?" Gambit took his friend's hand, thankfully with a little better control of his powers than he'd had a moment ago. "Laura, est-ce que tu entend moi?"
They held their breath, both Vixen and Remy. But there was no response. Whatever spirit had woken her enough to criticise Remy's foul mouth had departed again.
"She........." Gambit frowned, remembering something suddenly. "She forgot somethin', yesterday. Got somethin' remembered wrong. I don't know if it important." He shrugged, and Vixen felt a wash of his vulnerability.
"It might be." She consoled him. "I want to try and reach her." Ilehana paused, taking a breath. "Just........." Gambit's eyes bored into her and the Professor's daughter found she was actually asking for help, not something that happened very often. "Just don't go anywhere."
"Jamais." But he did back off. Telepathy didn't exactly make him comfortable. Ain't nobody invadin' his head, no matter how good a friend they were. His eyes fell on Blaze, so small, so vulnerable. He wished he still had that odd, GM virus caused bond with her. He could have helped her then. But he didn't, so he folded his arms and resigned himself to being a spectator. Vixen took a breath, and was swept away.
A/N: Reviews are gold dust, and duly appreciated.
08
"Storm!"
Ororo lifted her head slowly from where it was, resting on her arms as she tried to get some sleep. For a moment she didn't know where she was, her fine white hair blurring the surroundings. She pushed it away. The infirmary. Blaze.
"Storm! Quick, She chokin'!"
Gambit was backing away from the bed on which Blaze lay on her back as if he was in shock. He didn't know what to do. Blaze was turning blue, retching and writhing, her spine heaving away from the bed violently.
"Get her on her side!" Storm ordered Gambit to help her. Unthinking Ororo slid her slender fingers in Blaze's mouth, clearing the wet, slimy obstruction from the redhead's airway. Blaze retched again, splattering horrid, bile-filled vomit over the bed, floor and Storm. Two frantic gulps of breath were all Blaze managed before she threw up again, fiercely.
Gambit ran around the other side of the bed, pulling Blaze's hair clear of her face even though it was already matted not just with blood but vomit too. He put a comforting hand on the base of her heaving spine, stroked her brow and whispered to her. He knew that really there was little chance she could hear him, but he had to try. Blaze coughed, and then threw up again. Storm turned her face away in disgust.
"Go get washed and get some rest, Storm." A voice in the doorway was calming, its telepathic owner washing the room with as much peace as she could muster. That was hard; Ilehana did not like the look of this at all. Logan had said nothing about Blaze vomiting, just that she'd flipped and hurt her arm. "You've done really well, but I can handle this now."
"Thank you." Ororo tried to smile at the Professor's daughter, tried to find some humour in her own vomit-drenched appearance. There was none, so she gave up and left.
"Just for the record." Ilehana spoke quietly to Gambit, watching him as he stroked Blaze's disgusting hair. "As your doctor, I have to advise you to go get some rest Remy." He looked up at her, drawing a humourless smile from Vixen. "But I know you wont. Like I said, it was just for the record." He nodded his thanks, taking a seat by Blaze's bedside as Ilehana quickly scanned Storm's notes.
Blaze had stopped vomiting. Not retching, she was still shaking from head to foot every few minutes, but she had nothing left to expunge from her stomach. Ilehana looked quickly over Blaze's injuries, admiring the dexterity of Storm's stitches. A damp cloth cleaned the girl's rose-red lips, soothed the heat from her brow. Stepping gingerly around the vomit- covered floor, Ilehana decided to let Blaze rest and clean that up next. The things she did for her friends.
"Do you have any idea what might have triggered this off?" She asked Gambit quietly, not quite knowing what exactly 'this' was. A nervous breakdown, accidental injuries, whatever, she'd expected a Blaze she could talk to. But this unconsciousness......... To Ilehana's telepathy Blaze felt distant. Not just withdrawn, but as if this time and place did not exist for the former thief. And the vomiting was a darker side effect, one she could not trace the cause of.
"Non." Gambit replied equally as quietly. Then, in a fit of helplessness he pushed off the bed, throwing himself away from Blaze. Some powerless piece of pharmaceutical equipment found itself in his hand, charged by the slightest touch, throw and exploding across the room. Ilehana winced, that particular tool had been expensive, but more worrying was the effect all this was having on Gambit. She didn't want to have to deal with two of her friends breaking down. "This is merde, just fuckin' merde Vixen!"
"Wash your mouth out le Beau."
It was a whisper. Nothing more than that. Both Ilehana and Gambit looked abruptly at the still figure of the girl on the bed. Blaze didn't speak again.
"Blaze?" Gambit took his friend's hand, thankfully with a little better control of his powers than he'd had a moment ago. "Laura, est-ce que tu entend moi?"
They held their breath, both Vixen and Remy. But there was no response. Whatever spirit had woken her enough to criticise Remy's foul mouth had departed again.
"She........." Gambit frowned, remembering something suddenly. "She forgot somethin', yesterday. Got somethin' remembered wrong. I don't know if it important." He shrugged, and Vixen felt a wash of his vulnerability.
"It might be." She consoled him. "I want to try and reach her." Ilehana paused, taking a breath. "Just........." Gambit's eyes bored into her and the Professor's daughter found she was actually asking for help, not something that happened very often. "Just don't go anywhere."
"Jamais." But he did back off. Telepathy didn't exactly make him comfortable. Ain't nobody invadin' his head, no matter how good a friend they were. His eyes fell on Blaze, so small, so vulnerable. He wished he still had that odd, GM virus caused bond with her. He could have helped her then. But he didn't, so he folded his arms and resigned himself to being a spectator. Vixen took a breath, and was swept away.