(***Author's Notes: So, there be Toad-age finally, but not much. Again, I'm not too sure of the proper methods for treating electric burns, or even the exact kind of injuries Toad was likely to have recieved from Storm. The two songs made reference to are both Beatles and are on the Help album. Funn, I just put those particular in because they were stuck in my head, but at least one of them is somewhat fitting. Maybe. R&R, I'm a comment whore, but please be gently. This is a mostly for fun fic)
"No, leave his boxers on!" yelped Gabby. Michael paused halfway through the methodical stripping of the stranger, looking annoyed.
"Now, what if he's got burns on--"
"I don't care! If you want to handle that, fine!"
"I'm not the one who was in veterinary school."
"That was only for a semester! I don't think I'm more qualified than anyone here."
"I got the aloe!" Zoey came running into the small room where their stranger was stretched out on the bed, carrying three bottles of the green goo, two completely full.
"Geeze, Zoe, think you brought enough?" muttered Michael.
"Lucky I did. I burn easily." She put the bottles down on a counter and glanced at the boy, then looked away again. "Y'guys mind if I beat it. That's just really disgusting." She shuddered again. Gabby looked at the burns and grimaced. They were more than just disgusting, they were dangerous.
"I really think we should take him to a hospital. These are really serious."
"Yeah, but he said no hospitals. And besides..." Michael waved her over to the end of the bed. "Lookit." He pointed to the stranger's feet. Webbed toes. "I think he's got a real good reason for not wanting to go to a hospital." Gabby sighed.
"A mutant. Lovely. What kind of trouble will we get into for this, I wonder?" Michael glared at her.
"You're not honestly thinking of not helping him, are you?"
"'Course not. What kind of a person do you think I am?" His eyes softened.
"A good person who's got the magic healing touch." He grinned down at her and kissed her forehead. "I'm goin' back up deck. 'Less ya need any help."
"N-nah," Gabby looked at her patient, somewhat unsure. "I think I got it covered. If I need help, I yell. Loudly."
"Cool." Michael ducked out and left the door open a crack.
Gabby ran a hand through her dark blonde hair and turned to her new patient with an apprehensive look. Sighing, she picked out the one roll of bandages and a bottle of aloe and moved to what looked like the worst area.
"Alright, buddy, let's get started..."
A half hour later, she sat down beside the bed and looked over her handiwork. Not bad for someone who hadn't tied a bandage for almost three years. Especially considering that they'd only had one roll of bandages and some old sheets to use. She wiped her hands on a towel and studied the patient's face. There was definitely a greenish cast to his skin. A silver hoop pierced his left ear. His hair, too, was green, but a color so odd that she wondered if he had dyed it. Tentatively, she reached out a hand to touch it. He whimpered slightly and she pulled her hand away, wondering if she'd missed a burn. He groaned again, his face twitching. She took his hand in hers and laid her other hand on his forehead, stroking it softly as if soothing a fevered child. The conflict in his face ceased, though a pained expression remained. His skin was sweaty, but cool, and she frowned. Shouldn't he be running a fever or something? She continued stroking his forehead, humming quietly and holding his hand.
She wasn't sure how long she sat like that when suddenly his eyes snapped open and regarded her with a fierce, frightened intensity. She gasped and jerked her hand back.
"Wheh's 'an'ito?" he rasped thickly. She blinked, then grabbed a glass of water from the counter and held his head up.
"Drink." He looked mistrustfully at her, but sucked the water down eagerly. When he had finished, he sank back down again.
"Magneto?" he repeated angrily, dark eyes darting around the room. His voice sounded like he had a mouth full of cotton balls. Maybe cotton balls covered in acid. The burny kind. Gabby shook her head.
"I don't know what that is. You're safe here, but I'd really like to get you to a hospital--" he shook his head as vigorously as possible "--or not." She sighed. "Fine. Just don't blame me if you get sick or something. What the hell happened to you?" He just glared at her. "Alright, don't tell. But the least you can do is give me you name." Again, silence. "Look, we saved your life, the least you can do it tell me what you're called." He glanced away, thinking. Gabby ran a hand through her hair and rolled her eyes, exasperated.
"T'd," he muttered. She looked back at him, surprised.
"Tad?"
"To'd," he tried again. It was difficult to speak clearly; his tongue hurt so much.
"Todd?" Toad sighed and nodded. Close enough. "Well, nice to meet you, Todd," her voice was wry. "I'm Gabby." Yes, you bloody are, he thought angrily. Two white pills entered his line of vision. "Think you can swallow these?"
"Wha'r they?"
"Tylenol. 'S all we got, sorry." He nodded and she helped him sit up and drink again. "Now. Go back to sleep. It's the best thing you can do." He glared at her again from the corner of his eye. "And stop looking at me like that. I told you, you're safe, now go to sleep or I'll...um..." she stopped, not sure if threatening a patient with physical violence was appropriate. "Go to sleep or so help me, I'll sing a lullaby." And she returned his glare, somewhat flustered. Smirking slightly, Toad felt his body relaxing, still taxed from the previous night's battle and his injuries.
"So, our mystery man got a name?" asked Michael, walking in sipping a coke. He tossed Gabby one. She tapped the can to wear the fizz down with a glare at her friend. He smiled innocently, trying to convey the message that he would never dream of shaking her coke before handing it to her.
"Yeah. Todd, I think. It's hard to understand him. I think he's got some burns in his mouth."
"Mm." Michael finished his coke and crumpled the can. "Poor guy. What the hell happened to him?"
"Not a clue." Gabby popped her can open and chugged half of it down, then belched softly. "'Scuze me. Ah, sweet sweet caffeine. He hasn't said much. I guess he got into a fight or something." She put the coke down. "You don't think...last night? Could he have been involved in that?"
"So you think it was mutants?" Michael's voice got defensive again. Gabby shook her head.
"No, not necessarily. I think that it's odd that a bunch of weird crap that the media tried to cover up happened last night, and then we find a mutant, or anyone, really, just floating in the harbor, covered in burns. It's weird."
"Truth and fiction, hon," admonished Michael. Gabby rolled her eyes.
"Whatever. We'll find out more when he comes around, I hope." Michael started to leave, then turned back.
"Oh, hey, I fergot. Heard something about last night on the radio. Said they caught some mutant terrorist up on Elis Island. Magnet, or something. So you were right about it being mutants." He ran a hand through his brown hair, looking upset. "They're not all good, I guess."
"Just like the rest of us, Mike. Don' worry 'bout it."
When a fuzzy sort of consciousness began to creep over Toad again the first thing he became aware of was a noise. Music. A song...a familiar one. Big and black the clouds may be...He hummed quietly, trying to place it. Beatles. "Tell Me What You See." And someone with a high voice butchering it.
"Oh gaw'..."he groaned. "Shu' tha' noise." He found it easier to talk if he omitted some of the consonants. The singing abruptly stopped and the radio switched off.
"Don't like the Beatles?" asked Gabby, standing over him again. He raised an eyebrow, trying to convey that Yes, he did indeed like the Beatles, his problem was her. Gabby chuckled and shook her head ruefully. "Yeah, yeah, everyone's a critic. Here. More pills to pop." She handed him more Tylenol and a glass of water and helped him sit up. He drained it and passed it back.
"Can I have som'ore?" She nodded and filled the glass from a water cooler.
"Yeah, you should be drinkin' a lot I--oh my lord!" She broke off, staring at him. He stopped and realized he'd stuck his tongue out just a bit to try and see the damage done. He grinned humorlessly at her, trying to make her uncomfortable. She blinked a few times.
"Is it supposed to look like that?"
"Li' 'uh'?"
"Um...black and burned." He let his tongue back in his mouth and shook his head. "You burned your tongue too?! What the hell did you do, stick it in a toaster?"
"Shu' u'," he growled around the tender appendage, glaring at her. She returned the look with equal annoyance. Their eyes locked in a silent battle for a moment. His eyes... Gabby's anger seeped away and she dropped her gaze, exhaling.
"Do you think you can turn over?" she asked calmly, startling him. "I want to have a look at your back now."
With some help, Toad managed to roll onto his stomach gingerly. His body felt stiff and itchy and hot. He hissed softly as Gabby carefully pulled the bandages off his back. He heard a sharp intake from her.
"Mm..." she murmured, pouring water over a small towel. She began washing the leftover aloe from the burns on his back. Gentle as she tried to be, Toad still found himself twitching at her touch. "Good news is it's not as bad as it looks. The worst should heal in a couple of days. With liberal applications of aloe, of course." She grabbed a fresh bottle, then hesitated. "You're not allergic to any kind of medicine, are you?" He shrugged. "Um...do you heal any faster than, um..."
"Humans?" he finished. "So'times." He'd learned from experience that the natural slime from his skin acted as a sort of salve for cuts and burns. He stiffened when he felt her start to rub aloe onto his back.
"Loosen up," she said, squirting some more onto the small of his back and rubbing up toward his shoulders. He stared into space, shocked. Touching him. She was touching him. No one ever touched him, not if they could help it. He took a deep shaking breath. It felt...nice. Especially since the touching involved spreading large amounts of soothing, cool lotion onto his dry, burning skin. Gabby kept talking. "I don't know what we're going to do about you're tongue," she said conversationally. "I mean, that looks like it hurts like hellfire, but we can't put aloe on it or anything, so I guess our best bet is Tylenol and water, for now. Sorry." She continued rubbing the lotion in. Toad closed his eyes, trying to think.
"Why're y' doin' 'is?" he asked suddenly. Gabby stopped short and looked down at him.
"Cuz aloe's the best thing we've got for burns." Toad shook his head.
"No, I 'ean..." She cut him off.
"Because it's what you do. You don't just leave someone alone when they're hurt and need help. You don't just leave people to die. At least, we don't." Toad's brow furrowed and he opened his mouth, but she continued. "Now stop talking. Let your tongue heal. Get some sleep, alright? Michael'll dock us in the morning." She wiped her hands on a towel and turned to go. "Hey, y'want the CD player on?" Toad shrugged gingerly. He heard a click followed by the sound of the door shutting, then John's sweet voice began to sing about a face he couldn't forget.
Gabby sighed and slumped next to her friends and stared up at the night sky, absently missing the stars from back home.
"So, how is he?" Zoe asked, passing her a hamburger. Gabby took it gratefully and devoured most of it before responding.
"Doin' okay, I guess. Don' know what happened to him." She gulped down the last bite of her sandwich and grimaced. "He's not exactly the most friendly guy in the world."
"He is a mutant, isn't he?" asked Angie. Michael nodded.
"Not a doubt," Gabby confirmed. Angie shifted uncomfortably.
"Stacy was so...normal," she murmured, referring to Michael's old girlfriend. Michael immediately bristled, but said nothing. Gabby nodded tiredly.
"Yeah, well, takes all kinds, I guess. Can't say I've ever seen a seriously physical mutation up close, but as our big brother is so fond of reminding me, this is New York. Weird crap happens up here."
"Sure beats home, huh?" Zoey grinned, taking a sip from her soda.
"Oh hell yeah." Gabby folded her arms behind her head and stretched out on the deck. The sky was still that weak shade of navy, dulled by the city lights. "Miss the stars though."
The third time Toad regained consciousness, he had the presence of mind not to announce it with groaning or movement. He wanted to think and that was difficult to do with the talkative blonde girl forcing medicine on him and asking the wrong questions. Not like he was in any state to answer them, anyway. Magneto had been captured, he had heard that much before drifting off to sleep. Which meant the Brotherhood was more or less "no more." He closed his eyes and tried to think back to the last thing he could remember before this...
The weather witch--what was her name?--Storm. Right. How apt. He allowed himself a brief moment of bitterness. Even Xavier's pets got cool code-names. Why had he been stuck with the name "Toad?" Admittedly, it was better than "Frog"...maybe. Focus! Storm...and being struck by lightning ("Struck by lightning! Struck by lightning!" called a half-remembered voice from a childhood story. He ignored it). Then the pain. Suddenly frozen, colder than the ninth circle of hell, and at the same time, every nerve on fire. He could feel himself sweating just remembering it. And then...
Oh God! The water. The dark, never-ending, thrashing water and the screaming screaming "For God's sake, kill it! Kill it, Jonathan!" A woman. And strong arms holding him under and his own weak ones flailing and every breath he drew to scream his fear only sucked more and more of the suffocating liquid in and---
"Hey! Hey! Todd! Wake up, man! Dude!" Toad's eyes snapped open and he saw a young man's concerned face over him. He could feel hands on his shoulders, shaking him awake. He gasped, gulping in air as if he had been denied it, and tried to sit up, only to be gently pushed back down. He struggled for a moment, and then it all came back to him. He lay still, his own breathing sounding ragged in his ears, the only sound he could hear as the crash of the nightmare waves faded. He stared up at the new face, trying to mask his fear with a glare, and knowing his eyes were too wide for it to wholly succeed. The other boy released his shoulders and backed up. Toad took another deep swallow of air and tried to think.
"Where's Gabby?" he managed after a moment spent dredging up the name. The other boy smiled with relief to see his patient coherent and gestured to the door.
"Up on deck, catching a quick nap. She told me to ask if you wanted some more Tylenol, but I think you'll O.D. if you keep popping those things."
"Mm." Toad didn't know what to say, and so said nothing.
"'Name's Michael, by the way." The burly youth offered a hand. Toad stared at it for a while, confused. After a moment of awkward silence, Michael lowered it, somewhat fluster. It was only then that Toad remembered what people were supposed to do when somebody held their hand out to you.
"Sorry," he slurred, looking away. Michael shrugged. Toad looked at the wall for a few minutes, thinking. Then... "Thanks," he muttered almost inaudibly. Michael brightened.
"Ah, hell, it's Gab ya need ta thank. She's the one who fixed you up. Or tried to."
"Whaddaya mean 'tried to,' big brother?" Both men turned to see Gabby leaning on the doorframe, watching them both with a wry expression. "He'll live, right? I done did good." Michael laughed.
"Yeah, you did. Better'n I could, anyway."
"You can say that again. Now get up there and dock this boat." She yawned sleepily, belatedly covering her mouth with the back of her hand. "Scootch."
"Aye-aye, ma'am!" Michael saluted her and left the room. Gabby began packing the various items that lay scattered about the room. Without looking up, she addressed Toad.
"So, no hospitals?" she asked conversationally. Toad shook his head.
"No." And then, as an afterthought, "Please." Gabby looked up, startled. She grinned and resumed her task.
"So, what do you want us to do with you? Ya got any friends or hangouts in the city? Anywhere to go?"
Toad started to give the address to a place that he had often driven the rest of the Brotherhood to, located in the city. From there, he could get in touch with Magneto and-- no. That's right. Magneto had been captured. The Brotherhood had been defeated, and he officially had no one in the country left. He closed his mouth, his face grim, and shook his head.
"N'. N'where."
Gabby paused and eyed the last bottle of aloe that she held for a moment, still not looking up at him.
"Think you can walk? Get by?" Toad was expecting a dismissal and nodded, murmuring an affirmative sound. To his surprise, the girl snorted and stuffed the aloe into a tote bag. "Ch'yeah, right. Prove it. Sit up on your own." Toad blinked, irritated. So, what? She though he couldn't handle pain. Determinedly, he posted himself up on one hand and forced himself into a sitting position, though muscle and skin screamed in agony and his head had started to spin. He turned a defiant glare in her direction. She merely eyed him impassively.
"Okay, sure. So walk."
Angrily, but carefully, he lowered himself from the bed and stood up, unsteady on normally strong legs. With fierce determination, he picked up one foot--
And suddenly felt himself sagging in someone's arms. Gabby struggled for a moment and propped him back on the bed. He moaned softly and sagged.
"Oh Gaw', my 'ead," he whimpered, rubbing his temples. The rest of his body was protesting the previous movement quiet vigorously, letting him know that it did not approve at all of the attempt. When he finally got the courage to open his eyes and look up, he found Gabby's face only a few inches from his own, finger to her lips, studying him.
"So...nowhere to go and in no condition to be on your own, eh?" She tapped her lips in thought. "Well, guess that means you stay with us."
"Wha--?" Toad wasn't sure he'd heard write. Gabby grinned and shrugged.
"What's that they say? 'You save a man's life, you're responsible for him,' somethin' like that." She paused. "Mike still lives with his parents, and Zoey's in a dorm, but Ang and me share an apartment, so I guess you can crash there until you're better." Toad just stared at her. "I mean, if that's okay with you. We could just leave you on the dock or wherever the hell you'd like. Whatever." Toad blinked and looked at the floor. So this normal, homo sapien inferior, this human was offering him crash space. They had already saved his life, bandaged his wounds, and now they were going to give him a place to recover, and hopefully lie low. Wasn't there a story like this? One of the brothers read it to us. Parable or some shyte. Yes, now he could remember, vaguely. Some stranger found a man beaten up on the side of the road and helped him. Funny thing was, Toad couldn't remember for the life of him if the Bible had ever mentioned the beaten man's reaction to it all. He ran a hand through his damp hair, took a deep breath, then looked back at the girl and nodded, once.
"Thank you."