Everything black. Weightless. Tries to call for help. No sound.
Then light. Beautiful bright light. A crossroads hanging in eternity.
Without words, a single thought came into his mind. Choose. Somehow that
word carried staggering finality. Part of him just wanted to bask in the
light. He knew it could be his. But what would he be giving up? Dimly,
he slowly remembered where he was from. A point of light around him sprang
toward him at impossible speeds. A planet. He crashed through clouds, and
instantly the ground was in front of him. A large house. He had lived
there. At dizzying speed the house rushed forward to him. He passed
through the walls as if they were nothing. Suddenly everything stopped
again. A woman stood shaking, hands on her face. A mix of horror and
disbelief there. A man there too. He cared about him for some reason he
couldn't seem to remember. He too was shaking, holding something in his
arms. Something limp. Sound crashed in around him. A steady sharp tone.
Sobbing. Pleading. What was in his arms? Why were they so upset? A
hand. Bandages. Memories.
CHOOSE. Came the voice, stronger than before. The light again. So warm. Inviting. Promising. A man stood next to it. Body made of stars. The choice had been laid out before him. He took a step toward the light. He looked back. The blue man holding the body was staring at him. Not through him, not past him. At him. CHOOSE! He knew this was the last time he would be given the choice. Sound had faded again, but he could see the blue man mouth a single word. Please. He looked at the man made of stars, and the light faded. The world around him fell away. The man made of stars thrust his chin in his direction. Blackness wrapped around him. Suffocating. It swallowed him.
Bobby was confused. He heard beeping. His whole body hurt. But at the same time, he had never felt so safe. He tried to open his eyes, but he didn't have the strength. He dragged a shallow breath through his nose. There was a sweet musky smell. Something soft surrounded him tightly. Warmth all around him. Bobby strained to open his eyes. Slowly they responded. Blue. Surrounding him. It took him a moment to realize it was hair. Another moment before he realized who it belonged to.
Hank gasped. The earth shattering tone of the heart monitor started up again. Hank had been sobbing, cradling Bobby's lifeless body in his arms. His heart had broken. Suddenly Hank was numb. He didn't understand what was going on. Bobby had died. For the last twenty minutes he had tried everything he knew to revive his friend, nothing had worked. He had given up, had hugged Bobby close and just cried. Now the monitor said Bobby was alive again? Hank pulled back and stared. Bobby's eyes were open, just barely. Another sob, but this time, of joy, not sorrow. Hank hugged him again, then quickly and gently placed him back on the exam table. He swiftly read the monitor attached to the bed. Bobby was alive. His pulse getting stronger. Bobby was alive. Hank's heart leapt. Alive.
Jean stood in the corner for a moment trying to deal with what had happened. She had felt Bobby fade. She couldn't explain it other than she felt him leave. Then suddenly he was in the room again. Then the monitor had started. She snapped out of it and knew that they weren't out of the woods yet. She concentrated and cabinets flew open. A bag of saline solution flew across the room and she replaced the spent bag that had contained the last of the blood taken from Chimera when he'd first arrived. She kept pressure on Bobby's wounds, while unwrapping the blood-soaked bandages from his wrists. Doing all this with her mind, she gasped when she saw the wounds. A small red trickle still came from them, but she could see inside the wound. It was healing faster than she would have ever thought possible for someone other than Wolverine. A needle and surgical thread floated in front of her a moment before moving to close the wound. She tied off the knot, and the spent supplies floating around her moved to the biohazard box.
Hank looked at her, and suddenly she was aware of something else. She had been so wrapped up in saving Bobby, and then in shock at him dieing that she didn't notice the feelings radiating from Hank. She realized that Bobby meant much more to him than anyone had thought. It seemed like Hank was now just beginning to realize this for himself. Hank looked more vulnerable at that instant than she had ever seen him. If Bobby had died, Jean thought, she didn't know what Hank would have done.
Hank appeared satisfied with the charts scrolling across the monitor. He sighed and smiled. "He will make it." He said softly. Jean walked toward him. The feelings of relief and something else... Gratitude? Were all around Hank. She placed a hand on his large forearm. She looked into his eyes, and felt below the surface. Outside, he was his normal self, despite what she had seen only moments before. Inside was completely different. He hurt so deeply.
"It wasn't your fault, Hank." She whispered, pulling him into an embrace.
"I know..." Hank said with another sigh.
"No. You don't. You can't fool me. It was not your fault." She said. Jean knew Hank blamed himself. His mind was so dark. So cold. Desolate. Enough to make her shiver physically. Hank pulled back. She felt what she had said sink in, but then the façade returned. She looked into his eyes again, and the mask crumbled. Suddenly his whole body went slack. She had to use her powers to stabilize herself when she found three hundred fifty pounds of fur and muscle in her arms. Hank broke down again. He shook for a moment, having cried his eyes dry a few minutes earlier over his friend's limp body.
His face buried in her shoulder was truly a strange sight. Hank was much larger than Jean, and yet, she cradled him in her arms as if he were an infant. Finally, he regained his composure, and pulled back. He stared at the floor. "I... I am sorry, Jean, I don't know where that came from."
"Its okay Hank. Really." Jean said warmly in that all too knowing way she had. "If you need to talk. Ever. Come see me." she paused. "I imagine the others will want to know about Bobby."
Jean turned and exited the room, others waited outside, some trying to push their way into the infirmary. Jean stopped them, whispering something. The doors hissed shut and Hank was alone with Bobby. He pulled up a chair and sat at Bobby's side. He'd had to cut his clothes away, leaving him only in a pair of loose fitting boxer shorts. Hank took one of Bobby's hands into his own. They were so small compared to his, so delicate. The skin felt wonderful. Pale as it was at the moment, it was so smooth. It had a cool feel to it, which Hank was beginning to enjoy. It was like running his hands across the surface of a pond on a summer day.
Hank sighed. Looking at Bobby's sleeping form, he remembered the last time they'd had to intervene with him. It was soon after he'd arrived at the mansion, before he and Hank had really gotten to know one another. He was such a small kid back then. He was fifteen, but still hadn't hit his growth spurt yet. They'd always joked with him about his height being 'frozen' and that he would never grow up.
Bobby had many inner demons. Mostly, they came from the way his family had treated his mutancy. When he told them, his father had gotten angry. Kicked him out of the house, at the age of fifteen. Fifteen. His mother had done nothing to stop it. He had literally been abandoned.
Bobby constantly worried about what other people thought of him, and that was potentially his downfall, and the reason for his depression. He had always desperately wanted to fit in, to be one of the cool guys. It never really happened. Hank had noticed some homosexual tendencies coming from Bobby, but had never wanted to say something, for fear of hurting him. Hank huffed. Hurting him. He thought that maybe if he had not been too busy worrying about that, he may have seen this coming and been able to stop it. No. Jean was right. He shook his head, trying not to blame himself.
Hank looked up. The saline was running low. He rose and brought a few more bags of the clear liquid back to the exam table and attached them to the drip. Hank brought a blanket and draped it gently across the table. It seemed a crime against nature to cover his beautiful skin. Hank had always been jealous even of other mutants. There was so much they took for granted. The simple feel of skin touching skin was something only the tips of his fingers and the pads of his feet knew. He sighed. Another beautiful day in paradise, He mused.
Hank began to think harder. He'd been so lonely over the past few weeks. More than normal. Not even the ever-soothing words of the Bard could give him peace. Life had become monotonous. Bland. Every day, he got up. Went to his lab. Worked on various projects aimed at the betterment of mankind. He knew he was providing a valuable service, and using the prodigious mind he'd been blessed with to help people, but where did he fit into the whole picture. He enjoyed science. Loved it even. But it was a cold bedfellow. It never held him when he was sad. Comforted him when he hurt. Hell, he was still a virgin. This plagued Hank to no end. He huffed again. Another thing it seems everyone has found but I.
Hank suddenly noticed he had his head on Bobby's chest. He slowly sat up. He had Bobby had always had somewhat of a physical kind of friendship. Bobby seemed to find himself depressed every once in a while and sought refuge with Hank. They'd watch a cheesy horror movie or three, and play video games till the sun came up. Hank missed that. Looking back, it had been months since they'd had one of those nights. He missed just sitting on the couch, his arm around his friend, just a lazy evening, a couch, and a movie. And Twinkies. Lots of Twinkies. As soon as Bobby was able, he was going to force him to do that again. He put his arm over Bobby's chest, and nuzzled his shoulder. He was never going to let Bobby be alone again.
A black haze surrounded Hank. He heard snarling. For the first time in nearly a year, the beast inside wanted to play. It was something Hank had dealt with from the beginning. A sort of Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hydd situation. The beast was always there waiting for a weakness, trying to claw his way to the surface. To take Hank's sanity and smash it like a piece of glass so he could run rampant with Hank's body. The mists around him began to take form. He was in a forest. Large trees all around him. There was movement in front of him. A mass of matted blue hair, standing a full seven foot tall suddenly sprang out of the mist, tackling Hank. He tried to struggle but the Beast was too strong. Grabbing him by his lab coat, the Beast picked him up and started to run. He had never done this before.
Suddenly they came to a clearing. The dull, muted light of the forest became a shimmering meadow, bathed in sunlight. Wildflowers grew all around, and a small stream ran through the center. It was the most beautiful sight Hank had ever seen. He looked at the Beast. Its eyes locked on to his. There was such a look of pain and frustration there that Hank had never noticed. He almost felt sorry for him. The Beast set him down. He pointed his nose to the center of the clearing, and Hank's gaze followed. In the middle, Bobby lay sunbathing. He saw Hank and smiled. Hank tried to yell to warn him about the Beast. No sound came from his lips.
Bobby looked puzzled and rose to his feet. The Beast ambled out of the woods toward him. Hank followed behind. Nothing about the Beast's posture said anything of aggression. The giant blue hulk stopped just in front of Bobby. It held its arms out to embrace the man, but somehow, Bobby didn't even see him. When he moved forward, he passed right through the Beast's body. Hank was stunned. He had no idea what had just happened.
The Beast fell to his knees and bellowed. The pain and frustration that had been in it's eyes was given sound. Bobby stopped in front of Hank, who laid a hand on his shoulder. The Beast watched for a moment then turned away and started to shake. Pity filled Hank's heart. He walked over to his inner demon and held out his hand. The Beast looked at him with pure wonder in it's yellow glowing eyes. Eyes that suddenly looked far less fierce than they had before. The Beast gently took Hank's outstretched hand, and slowly stood. It looked into Hank's eyes for a moment, then walked forward, into him. Hank was suddenly filled with new desires, new hungers, new everything. The world around him changed, he could smell the dew on the leaves, he could hear distant birds in the trees, and feel the sunlight's warmth like never before. It wasn't the Beast trying to claw his way out any longer. Hank knew the battle was over. After so many years of fighting, both had finally won.
Hank embraced Bobby tightly. It felt as if it were the first time. Bobby's gentle skin against the soft hair covering Hank's body felt wonderful, and for the first time, Hank allowed himself to enjoy it. He finally understood.
CHOOSE. Came the voice, stronger than before. The light again. So warm. Inviting. Promising. A man stood next to it. Body made of stars. The choice had been laid out before him. He took a step toward the light. He looked back. The blue man holding the body was staring at him. Not through him, not past him. At him. CHOOSE! He knew this was the last time he would be given the choice. Sound had faded again, but he could see the blue man mouth a single word. Please. He looked at the man made of stars, and the light faded. The world around him fell away. The man made of stars thrust his chin in his direction. Blackness wrapped around him. Suffocating. It swallowed him.
Bobby was confused. He heard beeping. His whole body hurt. But at the same time, he had never felt so safe. He tried to open his eyes, but he didn't have the strength. He dragged a shallow breath through his nose. There was a sweet musky smell. Something soft surrounded him tightly. Warmth all around him. Bobby strained to open his eyes. Slowly they responded. Blue. Surrounding him. It took him a moment to realize it was hair. Another moment before he realized who it belonged to.
Hank gasped. The earth shattering tone of the heart monitor started up again. Hank had been sobbing, cradling Bobby's lifeless body in his arms. His heart had broken. Suddenly Hank was numb. He didn't understand what was going on. Bobby had died. For the last twenty minutes he had tried everything he knew to revive his friend, nothing had worked. He had given up, had hugged Bobby close and just cried. Now the monitor said Bobby was alive again? Hank pulled back and stared. Bobby's eyes were open, just barely. Another sob, but this time, of joy, not sorrow. Hank hugged him again, then quickly and gently placed him back on the exam table. He swiftly read the monitor attached to the bed. Bobby was alive. His pulse getting stronger. Bobby was alive. Hank's heart leapt. Alive.
Jean stood in the corner for a moment trying to deal with what had happened. She had felt Bobby fade. She couldn't explain it other than she felt him leave. Then suddenly he was in the room again. Then the monitor had started. She snapped out of it and knew that they weren't out of the woods yet. She concentrated and cabinets flew open. A bag of saline solution flew across the room and she replaced the spent bag that had contained the last of the blood taken from Chimera when he'd first arrived. She kept pressure on Bobby's wounds, while unwrapping the blood-soaked bandages from his wrists. Doing all this with her mind, she gasped when she saw the wounds. A small red trickle still came from them, but she could see inside the wound. It was healing faster than she would have ever thought possible for someone other than Wolverine. A needle and surgical thread floated in front of her a moment before moving to close the wound. She tied off the knot, and the spent supplies floating around her moved to the biohazard box.
Hank looked at her, and suddenly she was aware of something else. She had been so wrapped up in saving Bobby, and then in shock at him dieing that she didn't notice the feelings radiating from Hank. She realized that Bobby meant much more to him than anyone had thought. It seemed like Hank was now just beginning to realize this for himself. Hank looked more vulnerable at that instant than she had ever seen him. If Bobby had died, Jean thought, she didn't know what Hank would have done.
Hank appeared satisfied with the charts scrolling across the monitor. He sighed and smiled. "He will make it." He said softly. Jean walked toward him. The feelings of relief and something else... Gratitude? Were all around Hank. She placed a hand on his large forearm. She looked into his eyes, and felt below the surface. Outside, he was his normal self, despite what she had seen only moments before. Inside was completely different. He hurt so deeply.
"It wasn't your fault, Hank." She whispered, pulling him into an embrace.
"I know..." Hank said with another sigh.
"No. You don't. You can't fool me. It was not your fault." She said. Jean knew Hank blamed himself. His mind was so dark. So cold. Desolate. Enough to make her shiver physically. Hank pulled back. She felt what she had said sink in, but then the façade returned. She looked into his eyes again, and the mask crumbled. Suddenly his whole body went slack. She had to use her powers to stabilize herself when she found three hundred fifty pounds of fur and muscle in her arms. Hank broke down again. He shook for a moment, having cried his eyes dry a few minutes earlier over his friend's limp body.
His face buried in her shoulder was truly a strange sight. Hank was much larger than Jean, and yet, she cradled him in her arms as if he were an infant. Finally, he regained his composure, and pulled back. He stared at the floor. "I... I am sorry, Jean, I don't know where that came from."
"Its okay Hank. Really." Jean said warmly in that all too knowing way she had. "If you need to talk. Ever. Come see me." she paused. "I imagine the others will want to know about Bobby."
Jean turned and exited the room, others waited outside, some trying to push their way into the infirmary. Jean stopped them, whispering something. The doors hissed shut and Hank was alone with Bobby. He pulled up a chair and sat at Bobby's side. He'd had to cut his clothes away, leaving him only in a pair of loose fitting boxer shorts. Hank took one of Bobby's hands into his own. They were so small compared to his, so delicate. The skin felt wonderful. Pale as it was at the moment, it was so smooth. It had a cool feel to it, which Hank was beginning to enjoy. It was like running his hands across the surface of a pond on a summer day.
Hank sighed. Looking at Bobby's sleeping form, he remembered the last time they'd had to intervene with him. It was soon after he'd arrived at the mansion, before he and Hank had really gotten to know one another. He was such a small kid back then. He was fifteen, but still hadn't hit his growth spurt yet. They'd always joked with him about his height being 'frozen' and that he would never grow up.
Bobby had many inner demons. Mostly, they came from the way his family had treated his mutancy. When he told them, his father had gotten angry. Kicked him out of the house, at the age of fifteen. Fifteen. His mother had done nothing to stop it. He had literally been abandoned.
Bobby constantly worried about what other people thought of him, and that was potentially his downfall, and the reason for his depression. He had always desperately wanted to fit in, to be one of the cool guys. It never really happened. Hank had noticed some homosexual tendencies coming from Bobby, but had never wanted to say something, for fear of hurting him. Hank huffed. Hurting him. He thought that maybe if he had not been too busy worrying about that, he may have seen this coming and been able to stop it. No. Jean was right. He shook his head, trying not to blame himself.
Hank looked up. The saline was running low. He rose and brought a few more bags of the clear liquid back to the exam table and attached them to the drip. Hank brought a blanket and draped it gently across the table. It seemed a crime against nature to cover his beautiful skin. Hank had always been jealous even of other mutants. There was so much they took for granted. The simple feel of skin touching skin was something only the tips of his fingers and the pads of his feet knew. He sighed. Another beautiful day in paradise, He mused.
Hank began to think harder. He'd been so lonely over the past few weeks. More than normal. Not even the ever-soothing words of the Bard could give him peace. Life had become monotonous. Bland. Every day, he got up. Went to his lab. Worked on various projects aimed at the betterment of mankind. He knew he was providing a valuable service, and using the prodigious mind he'd been blessed with to help people, but where did he fit into the whole picture. He enjoyed science. Loved it even. But it was a cold bedfellow. It never held him when he was sad. Comforted him when he hurt. Hell, he was still a virgin. This plagued Hank to no end. He huffed again. Another thing it seems everyone has found but I.
Hank suddenly noticed he had his head on Bobby's chest. He slowly sat up. He had Bobby had always had somewhat of a physical kind of friendship. Bobby seemed to find himself depressed every once in a while and sought refuge with Hank. They'd watch a cheesy horror movie or three, and play video games till the sun came up. Hank missed that. Looking back, it had been months since they'd had one of those nights. He missed just sitting on the couch, his arm around his friend, just a lazy evening, a couch, and a movie. And Twinkies. Lots of Twinkies. As soon as Bobby was able, he was going to force him to do that again. He put his arm over Bobby's chest, and nuzzled his shoulder. He was never going to let Bobby be alone again.
A black haze surrounded Hank. He heard snarling. For the first time in nearly a year, the beast inside wanted to play. It was something Hank had dealt with from the beginning. A sort of Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hydd situation. The beast was always there waiting for a weakness, trying to claw his way to the surface. To take Hank's sanity and smash it like a piece of glass so he could run rampant with Hank's body. The mists around him began to take form. He was in a forest. Large trees all around him. There was movement in front of him. A mass of matted blue hair, standing a full seven foot tall suddenly sprang out of the mist, tackling Hank. He tried to struggle but the Beast was too strong. Grabbing him by his lab coat, the Beast picked him up and started to run. He had never done this before.
Suddenly they came to a clearing. The dull, muted light of the forest became a shimmering meadow, bathed in sunlight. Wildflowers grew all around, and a small stream ran through the center. It was the most beautiful sight Hank had ever seen. He looked at the Beast. Its eyes locked on to his. There was such a look of pain and frustration there that Hank had never noticed. He almost felt sorry for him. The Beast set him down. He pointed his nose to the center of the clearing, and Hank's gaze followed. In the middle, Bobby lay sunbathing. He saw Hank and smiled. Hank tried to yell to warn him about the Beast. No sound came from his lips.
Bobby looked puzzled and rose to his feet. The Beast ambled out of the woods toward him. Hank followed behind. Nothing about the Beast's posture said anything of aggression. The giant blue hulk stopped just in front of Bobby. It held its arms out to embrace the man, but somehow, Bobby didn't even see him. When he moved forward, he passed right through the Beast's body. Hank was stunned. He had no idea what had just happened.
The Beast fell to his knees and bellowed. The pain and frustration that had been in it's eyes was given sound. Bobby stopped in front of Hank, who laid a hand on his shoulder. The Beast watched for a moment then turned away and started to shake. Pity filled Hank's heart. He walked over to his inner demon and held out his hand. The Beast looked at him with pure wonder in it's yellow glowing eyes. Eyes that suddenly looked far less fierce than they had before. The Beast gently took Hank's outstretched hand, and slowly stood. It looked into Hank's eyes for a moment, then walked forward, into him. Hank was suddenly filled with new desires, new hungers, new everything. The world around him changed, he could smell the dew on the leaves, he could hear distant birds in the trees, and feel the sunlight's warmth like never before. It wasn't the Beast trying to claw his way out any longer. Hank knew the battle was over. After so many years of fighting, both had finally won.
Hank embraced Bobby tightly. It felt as if it were the first time. Bobby's gentle skin against the soft hair covering Hank's body felt wonderful, and for the first time, Hank allowed himself to enjoy it. He finally understood.