Hank had shooed the others out of the room. Kurt was patched up and under anesthetic in the other hospital ward; some of the others were watching over him now. In this room, Scott slept in one bed, his arm in stitches; in the other bed lay Logan's unconscious form.
"Logan was shot more times than any of the others," Hank had explained to the others. "He was also hit with the stun guns, so his state of unconsciousness is more severe than the others. I need to keep him here for observation." Accepting this, the others had left.
Ah, he thought, the wonders of being a Doctor. I say something, throw in a bit of medical jargon, and they buy it without question...

Logan, of course, did not need any special observation at all. A single shot of the same stimulant Hank had given the others would do the trick. It was simply that Hank had not had a good day, and he'd decided that he deserved a little fun.
Hank opened the cupboard and removed two bags. One contained an electric razor; the other contained Ororo's spare make-up kit.
Hank hummed a merry little tune as he approached Logan's prone form.

----

In the next room, Kurt was slowly opening his eyes. He was more than a little apprehensive; he already knew that he wasn't waking up in his cave. However, when he did open his eyes, the first thing that swam into focus was that girl – Amara – sitting by his bed.
"You're awake." The relief showed through Amara's voice, and Kurt couldn't resist.
"No, I think this is a dream," he croaked. "After all..." he looked blearily around the room. "...I'm fairly certain that I didn't fall asleep here..."
Amara grinned, then frowned to cover it. "I have been told to pass on a message from Professor Xavier," she announced.
"Who?"
"The bald man in the wheelchair?" Amara hinted. When Kurt nodded, she continued. "The Professor is rather impressed with your capabilities, and as such has offered you a place here as one of us."
Kurt's eyes widened. "Me? But I don't deserve..."
Amara waved one hand. "You did save his life, after all."
"I also endangered it in the first place," Kurt reminded her.
"Whilst you were saving Jamie's life," Amara retorted.

At the mention of his name, Jamie approached the bed from where he'd been standing at the window. "Hi," he said shyly to Kurt. "Are you okay?"
Kurt understood what Jamie was asking. "Ja, mein klein brüder, kein problem."
Jamie looked questioningly at Amara, who supplied the translation. "Little brother!?!" exclaimed Jamie. "COOL!"
Amara chuckled as the younger boy waved and left the room, practically glowing from the small endearment. Kurt returned his attention to Amara. "I will consider the Professor's offer," he told Amara. Then, he slowly reached out and placed his hand on top of hers. "And thank you," he told her.
Amara looked confused. "What for?"
"For caring. For treating me as another person and not the demon I know that I appear to be."
Amara shook her head. "You are not a demon. You... you are more of an elf," she decided.
Kurt blinked. "Huh?"
"A blue-furred elf," Amara insisted. Kurt blinked anew at that description, but sobered quickly and squeezed her hand.
"Thank you," he repeated. Then he closed his eyes.
It had been a long time since Kurt had slept as soundly as he did then.

He was safe.

----

Hank was still chuckling as he closed the bathroom door, anticipating Logan's reaction upon waking.
McCoy, he told himself, You are pure evil...

However, even the evil must bathe upon occasion. Sniffing himself, Hank decided that this indeed was such an occasion, and turned on the hot water. He had quickly worked up a good lather with the liquid soap he preferred to use.
Still focusing on his malicious glee, he didn't notice the strange burning sensation in his fur for nearly five minutes. It took another three before he became uncomfortable enough to act.
Seizing the shampoo bottle, he read the label, looking for any new chemicals they might have added that could be causing an allergic reaction. As he did so, he noticed the label begin to slip off, revealing a smaller one underneath. Hank swiftly ripped off the outer layer, only to see the most horrifying thing in his life.

EXTRA-STRENGTH BLEACH, the smaller label announced. Written underneath this dreadful heading in permanent marker was a short, succinct message in Logan's handwriting: "Merry Unbirthday, Poindexter."

Hank's anguished scream could have been heard miles away.