AN: Ah! The fun of the end of the semester rush. Everything from term papers to finals and everything in between. Plus trying to get stuff together for graduation. That's always a good time. Anywho, thanks for putting up with the delay and, without any further ado, here's the next update. I should apologize for the technical aspects of the previous chapter (which I had to correct a bit). I was just having a bit of fun and trying to write as Beast would think. I'm sorry! Please continue to read and review my little story, though, and feel free to ask away about any of the scientific craziness I write about.

LJP: Sorry about the technical stuff! As for the wonky chromosome, which I had to change to seven because I got all confused typing that update at 2:30AM, that'll be revealed in time. It's got something to do with Hope's personality and appearance, though.

Lindiel Eryn: Just biology, actually. I hope to get into genetics. I've taken enough anatomy, physiology, biochemistry, and microbiology classes, though, to be pre-med. I'm glad you liked the chapter, though!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except a handful or two of made up characters. All of this wonderful stuff belongs to the geniuses at Marvel Comics. I'm just playing in their world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

Time passed…as it had for many years. Still, Hope's condition remained the same. Well, relatively the same. She'd grown slightly on IV nutrition and they'd been able to remove the white cloth from her eyes. She hadn't chosen to open them but they were no longer in danger of being damaged by outside light.

Her mother, too, was recovering from her own infection and operation. Angelina was mobile, now, though most of her time was spent sitting with her ailing daughter. Thankfully, and after many threats of physical harm once she was well again, Beast had taken her off the IV antibiotics.

She wasn't too fond of the medication, even if it had helped to clear up the infection in her blood. The trade off, in Angelina's mind, was not a fair one. She was required to take a slow IV drip- an hour or more depending on how much was in the bag- that hurt as it trickled into her arm. Then, of course, there was the worry about the medication- called Vancomycin or "the drug of last resort-"causing blood clots. Thankfully, she'd avoided that little side effect.

Angie was glad to see she wasn't alone in her watch. Other than Matthew, of course, she'd been paid visits by other members of the school's teaching staff and her extended mutant family. Once she was well enough, even students had come down to visit. Many of them had complimented her on how much better she looked and how adorable the baby was. She figured most of them were saying that in order to get a better grade or something from her.

At the moment, though, she was sitting alone. It was the dead of nigh, star and moonlight filtering into the darkened room. She hadn't bothered with the lights, since there were a few students down in the room getting treated for some kind of allergy attack. All she had one was a small lamp, illuminating the stack of papers she was looking over.

It seemed, to Angie, that she was the only one who had faith that her daughter- Her Hope- would improve. That her condition would improve and she would be able to grow up normally. Odds were against her daughter but hope, the quintessential human delusion while simultaneously the greatest source of their strength- still sprouted in Angie's chest.

Hank and Jean would quote her medical facts she knew but Angie managed to ignore them in the way every good parent was able to do where their children were involved.

Matt would just fret about, worried and scared. The science aspect, where Angie was comfortable, had managed to go over his head. He was a chef in training, science was not his thing.

Someone- A student she guessed but Angie wasn't sure- had asked about "pulling the plug." Angie wasn't exactly pleased with that suggestion. That was one thing she hadn't considered doing, not even in her bleakest dreams.

All Hope needed was time, she had started to insist. That was the answer to the entire riddle. Well, one of many riddles her daughter seemed to possess. The little girl who lay immobile in her little controlled environment was a box full of riddles to be answered. Every time she sat with her daughter, doing anything old thing, there was a faint but definite tickling sensation in the back of her mind. It was a strange feeling, like someone or something was trying to make contact with her. She wasn't quite sure how, though, since there were no psychics in the room.

Still, it was all very strange.

"Hey," came a voice from behind Angelina as she sat in her little seat, "go get some sleep. I'll take the watch for now. You get some rest; you have class in the morning."

Angie looked up and smiled, standing behind her was Matthew. He was watching the pair with a very fierce and protective look on his face. Sure, he didn't really believe that their daughter could survive this ordeal and come out the other end still in one piece. His wife, though, he could still protect. In some way, anyway.

"And you have work in the morning," Angelina retorted, "I don't want you to be stuck snoring into like the potato salad."

Matthew gave a nervous sounding laugh and corrected, "Actually, it would be pasta but you get the picture. I can show up late this week because Angelo and Gianna are working too. I'll be fine. Go to bed. I'll sit up with her."

"You sure?" she asked standing and stretching her arms above her head.

"Very," he answered, giving his wife a kiss before taking up her seat and going towards the exit, "Get to bed. I'll see you before you have class."

Angie laughed and headed off to go to bed. The faint tickling in her mind slowly faded away with almost a sense of sadness. Whatever this tickling was, it missed her as she walked away. Truth be told, she missed the tickle too. It kept her company during her long hours sitting in the medical bay, despite the fact it was strange and weird and many other things.

Still, she had class to teach in the morning. Her first class since she'd given birth in the most auspicious way possible. She'd best be on her way and on her way she went.