To adelphe24: Thank you so much! I'm so sorry it's taken me a long time to update, but hopefully I should be updating on a more regular schedule now.
Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men. If I did then Toad would have made appearances in all of the movies. Cheyenne, however, is my brain child.
Cheyenne woke up lying on her stomach, the left side of her face resting against her pillow while her hands were burrowed underneath it. Closing her eyes, she attempted to piece together the dream she'd been having. A pair of yellow eyes staring at her intently was all her newly-woken brain offered.
'Toad.' She rationalized, opening her eyes and propping her chin on her pillowcase. Withdrawing her arms from beneath their feathery prison, she folded them in front of her. 'After yesterday, it only makes sense that I'd dream about him. He did spend the entire jet ride asleep in my lap.' The memory of the green-skinned, and according to what she gathered from remarks made by her teammates, tough guy snuggling into her in his sleep and the complaining whimper, accompanied by the crinkling of his inky eyebrows, the still-asleep Toad had made when Piotr had lifted him off her brought a smile to her lips. 'And I did spend a good majority of the jet ride looking at his face while I cleaned off the blood.' Feeling a familiar pressure in her back, she yawned and twisted off her stomach to slide out of bed. Her wings popped free and folded themselves neatly behind her back as she padded around her room, absent-mindedly gathering her clothes for the day while her mind was elsewhere.
To be precise, her thoughts were down a flight of stairs and an elevator ride away, sleeping soundly in a bed in the med bay.
The cuts on his face from where the F.o.H had torn out his piercings hadn't looked quite so bad once she'd cleaned off the blood. This was probably due to the sticky build-up around his torn flesh that he apparently secreted from his skin. She had confirmed this by experimentally wiping away a bit of the substance then watching as it slowly but surely oozed out of his pores to once again coat the injured area. It was unquestionably a bit gross to watch, but undeniably useful. The slime his skin produced not only aided in the healing process, but Hank had theorized when she pointed it out to him that it helped to fight off infection.
'It's a good thing for him if it does.' She recalled a fellow orchestra member who had been rather antsy around needles who had decided to pierce her ears herself - gradually. Using a paperclip. Thankfully, she had stopped and paid a visit to the doctor when her ears turned red, swollen and began to ooze pus. 'Ugh.' Cheyenne winced envisioning Toad's face in a similar situation as she deposited her outfit for the day on the bed. The Friends of Humanity seemed more inclined to inflict wounds rather than treat them; it would have been all too easy for one of his cuts to get infected with him strapped to that gurney.
Toad's straight, slightly wide, nose and his pointed, almost elfin-like, ears luckily had borne no signs of infection; neither did his lip. 'Those cuts are still going to be tender though.' Cheyenne thought as she walked into the bathroom. 'Hopefully the one on his lip won't hurt too much when he talks or eats.' She turned on the faucet and proceeded to splash cold water on her face. 'He's probably still out for the count right now though.' Squeezing a dab of face scrub from the tube resting next to the sink, she began to lather it across her face.
The mirror behind the sink reflected the crinkling of her eyebrows a she rinsed the soap off with a corner of washcloth doused in cold water. Her own reflection prompted the image of black eyebrows on green skin crinkling together in pain above golden eyes - ' 'urts…'. Kitty had just put the icepacks on his foot.
'His toe!' She finished wiping the soap off her face and bit her lip. 'Hank did give him pain meds last night in an IV but…' Spreading her washcloth on the towel rack to dry, she shook her head at herself. 'I'm sure Hank's already been down to check on him. He's the doctor, not me. Besides, if I went down there the only thing I could do would be watch him sleep or accidentally wake him up. I'll ask Hank how he is at breakfast, or if he's not there I'll ask the Professor; I'm sure he'd know.' She decided, slightly assuaging her desire to check up on the British man who she'd cut down from a gurney the previous night. 'Maybe I could look in on him later though, when he's up to having visitors.'
He was hungry. That was the first thing to come to Toad's attention upon waking up. The second was that he'd been asleep. Real, undisturbed sleep. No guards had come to wake him up at irregular intervals by yelling and or hitting him. And he wasn't sleeping on that demonic hospital reject.
He took a deep breath, taking in his surroundings and reveling in not having the bottom half of his face muzzled.
Toad smirked, wincing a bit at his stiff lower lip. The Friends of Humanity had soon learned that the phrase 'tongue lashing' was more than strictly metaphorical when it came to him.
He was in some sort of medical facility. That much was obvious from the IV sticking out of his wrist and the hospital bed he was laying in. Toad wasn't in a hospital though. That was obvious on the lack of restraining bands and police officers alone. He was in the last bed in a row of five beds. The wide metal doors beyond the bed on the other end of the row was emblazoned with a large stylized 'X' that immediately clued him in to his location.
' 'ow'd I get 'ere?' Toad thought, shifting his head to get a look at the smaller door nearest his bed. Wracking his brain, past jumbled memories of having his piercings torn out lip ring first and the irritation tinged with panic he'd felt as one of the Friends of Humanity goons that had jumped him managed a lucky shot with a tranquilizer gun after he'd taken out three of them, he thought he remembered being carried. His brow scrunched in thought - there had been a voice whispering to him softly. 'A girl's voice. And eyes the color of the ocean.' Toad let his head sink back on the pillow beneath him, debating whether the last bit had been real or a hallucination brought on by pain and starvation.
"Ah, I thought I heard rustling out here." A voice announced. Toad's deductions as to his location were confirmed by the large blue-furred man in a white lab coat now padding towards him. "How're you feeling?"
Toad eyed Beast critically. "What 'appened to the F.o.H?"
"They are undoubtedly occupied with answering questions from the police as to the prison-cells that firefighters discovered when they were called to put out the fires at two of their facilities." Hank McCoy chuckled. "And some of them are probably nursing wounds and headaches. Now, how are you feeling?"
"I'm 'ungry." He gingerly reached past his tangled locks and lightly fingered the spot in his ear where a piercing used to be, wincing as his thumb and forefinger brushed over the protective layer secreted by his skin. "Bloody 'ell, they got 'em all, didn't they?" He scowled, fidgeting his legs in his displeasure only to let out a cry of pain.
"Yes, and they also managed to break one of your toes in the process." Beast stated wryly, gesturing to his patient's left foot. "You'll need to keep off of that foot for a while."
"Well, that's jus' brilliant." Toad muttered, crossing his arms.
"Myth was quite concerned." Beast continued, checking Toad's vitals and eyeing the grumpy Englishman on the bed out of the corners of eyes beaming with intelligence.
"Myth?"
"Mmm-hmm." Beast agreed. "Well, I'll just go fetch Charles and see about getting you something to eat." The blue-furred doctor announced, finishing his examination and adjusting Toad's bed so that he was more upright.
'Cheyenne.'
The Texan jumped a bit in the rather fluffy arm chair she was ensconced in, upsetting the book spread across her lap. 'Professor?'
'Yes, I'm sorry I startled you. Would you mind bringing some food down to the Med Lab? Toad is awake and hungry.'
'Oh, that's good news! No, I don't mind at all. I'll grab some food and be right down.' Cheyenne thought back, closing 'The Hobbit' and rising from her seat in the corner of the recreation room.
'Thank you. Doubtless there are plenty of sandwiches lying about from Bobby's sandwich buffet.' Charles Xavier replied, amusement tingeing his tone as he broke the telepathic connection.
The corners of Cheyenne's lips pulled up in humor as she exited the room to the sounds of Bobby and Kurt having yet another epic space battle. Remy and Kurt had tied in the recent gaming tournament the boys had held, both of them managing to oust Bobby to his chagrin. As such, the Iceman had spent almost all of his free time on the gaming system preparing for a rematch.
She strolled down the stairs, idly rubbing the ingrained gilt 'T' on the cover of the book in her hands. A visit to the mansion's library that morning had turned up the older edition of one of J.R.R Tolkien's best-loved tales and she hadn't been able to resist it's siren call. It was a relief for her to be able to settle down and read. The winged mutant had been horribly restless all morning, a restlessness that hadn't been eased by the discovery of a beautiful baby grand piano in a small room off of the corridor leading to the library. Her fingers had positively itched to trace down the ivory of the keys, but upbringing had prevailed and she'd stuck to the tenet delivered to her first by her mother and then by her experience in the musical world - never, ever touch another person's instrument without their permission. Happily, after perusing several shelves, she'd stumbled upon 'The Hobbit' and been able to forget about how wonderful Chopin would probably sound on that piano, and even about the wounded green mutant in the Med Bay, by immersing herself in the world of Bilbo Baggins.
'Now, if I were Toad what type of sandwich would I like?' Cheyenne thought as she entered the kitchen, placing the book in her arms carefully on the counter and opening the refrigerator to pull out the container where Bobby's excess sandwiches were kept. "Should've asked the Professor to ask him." She muttered to herself as she rummaged through the bin. Selecting five different sandwiches, she set them aside and replaced the top of the plastic container. Experience had taught her that it was always better to err on the side of having leftovers when catering to the male appetite. 'Better grab a bottle of water, too.' The brunette mused as she settled the bin back in it's appropriate spot. 'I'm sure Hank has given him some already but nothing beat's the taste of ice cool water.' Selecting a bottle of chilled water from the side of the refrigerator, Cheyenne shut the door and turned to a nearby cabinet for a plate. "There we go." She murmured, stacking the sandwiches on the plate and resting the bottle next to the plastic wrapped sandwiches horizontally. Grasping the plate in her right hand, she tucked the book she'd spent the morning with under her other arm and set off towards the elevator leading down to the mansion's lower levels.
With her free hand, she lightly tapped an inconspicuous bit of paneling along the wall. Her touch was rewarded with a soft pneumatic hiss that her elevated hearing easily picked up and the wall seamlessly slid apart on itself to reveal the chrome doors of the elevator. There was a gentle ping and the doors slid open noiselessly. 'To the Bat Cave!' Cheyenne thought cheerfully as she strode into the elevator. 'It's a little bit silly,' she contemplated as the doors swished shut and the elevator began its downward descent, 'to be this excited about meeting a man who's one of the 'bad guys' but after last night, seeing what he went through…it can't have been easy growing up green.' She sighed, shaking her head a bit as the elevator pinged yet again and the doors rolled open. 'I'm lucky to have a father and friends who truly care about me.' She emerged from the elevator and headed towards the Med Lab. 'You can't fault me for being intrigued about him though.' A smile crossed her face. 'Especially when he's so adorable when he's sleeping, just like a little puppy. Who wouldn't be worried about an injured puppy?'
The smile on the Texan's face turned hesitant and shy as the motion sensors on the door to the Med Lab were activated and the steel slid back to accommodate her, causing three heads to swivel towards her. One of which belonged to a green-skinned mutant who was propped up in bed, scowling and not looking remotely-puppy like.
"Ah, there you are, Cheyenne." The Professor greeted, shifting his wheelchair to face her more fully as she approached.
"Myth." Beast nodded, treating her to a brief smile before swiveling his head to hide the smirk that was threatening to steal across his face at the expression replacing the scowl on his patient's face.
"Hello." Cheyenne said shyly, a slight blush crossing her face as she smiled uncertainly at Toad.
'Not a hallucination then.' Toad thought dumbly as he stared at the girl before him. She was petite, about five foot one, and her hair was a rich dark brown, pulled back in a ponytail. It was her eyes though that caught his attention. They were a deep entrancing shade somewhere between blue and green that reminded him of the color of the ocean - a sight he'd seen often piloting for Magneto to and from their island base, but that he'd never ceased to enjoy.
"Cheyenne, this is Mortimer Toynbee." The mention of his name brought Toad out of his musings, a slight wince crossing his face at the mention of his full name. "Mr. Toynbee, this is Cheyenne Jackson, also known as Myth."
"It's nice to finally meet you, Mr. Toynbee. I'm so glad you're awake."
"Mort." Toad corrected, inserting the only other moniker he tolerated and eying the woman before him curiously but warily too - experience had taught him that a pretty face didn't necessarily equate to a kind personality.
"Mort." Cheyenne repeated. 'It suits him.' She thought. "I brought you some sandwiches and a bottle of cold water." She paused, a worry stealing its way onto her face as she took in his still swollen lip. "If your lip is too sore to eat them, I could always go make you some soup."
"'M fine with sandwiches." Mort replied, not willing to sacrifice glorious solid food, at the same time Hank murmured that it was up to him.
"Okay then." Cheyenne acknowledged, carefully depositing her cargo on the side tray of the bed after Hank McCoy swiveled it up and over, locking it in to place.
"The 'obbit." Mort read aloud in surprise, catching a glimpse of one of his favorite books. It was the first book he'd ever really owned, not that he'd bought it. He'd been about eleven or so, living on the streets after finally escaping the orphanage that his parents had dropped him at hours after his birth, and had filched a box of clothes from the back of a thrift store. It was back in the tiny, rank but relatively dry, alcove off the sewer system that had been his home before Magneto had discovered him that he'd found the worn book at the bottom of the box.
"Ah, Tolkien." Beast remarked appreciatively.
Professor Xavier recognized the cover. "Always an excellent reading choice; I take it you've been visiting the library?"
Cheyenne nodded. "I can never resist the early editions. The older books just seem to have an extra charm that's all their own."
"It's the smell." Mort asserted, swallowing a bite of the ham sandwich he'd unwrapped.
"Well that's definitely part of it." Cheyenne replied, eyes lighting up. "It's also the texture of the pages."
"And the print." Toad mused, gesturing a bit with the sandwich in his hand.
"Exactly!" Myth smiled in agreement. "It's that each book is so…"
"Unique?" Beast supplied.
"Unique." The Texan nodded in confirmation. "That's it exactly."
"It's very refreshing and appealing in our society to have something that isn't mass produced and pre-packaged." Xavier pointed out wisely.
Mort nodded, unscrewing the water bottle Myth had brought him and gingerly, mindful of his lip, took a swig.
"Would you like me to bring you some books?" Cheyenne inquired. "If you're going to be stuck down here, it'll get boring."
"Yeah, if 'm goin' to have to stay down 'ere then it'd be nice to 'ave something to read." Toad replied, gazing at the girl before him with golden eyes then glancing at Beast for confirmation.
"At least a day." Beast announced.
"Brilliant." The green-skinned mutant grumbled. Talking in a normal tone of voice he continued, "Those books'd be great then, love." To Toad's surprise, a slight blush made its way onto the cheeks of the woman before him. Never having received this reaction from a woman before, Mort found himself eager to probe the situation. "I'm gonna need a bath too." He paused, giving her a sly grin. "Care to help me with that as well, love?"
Cheyenne felt like popping her wings and using them to cover her face as she felt the blood rush to her face, causing her skin, which was relatively pale from all of the time she spent indoors,to turn cherry red.
Beast, ever the gentleman, came to her rescue. "I'm afraid you'll have to settle for me as your bathing assistant." He eyed his patient critically. "We may have to cut your hair though."
Mort frowned, distracted from the thoughts working overtime in his brain about the girl before him and the fact that maybe taking the job Xavier offered was a blessing in disguise. "I like my 'air the way it is."
"You could always get rid of it." The professor joked, eyes twinkling with good humor. "You would not believe the time I save on shampooing and brushing."
Cheyenne giggled at this and the look of consternation on Toad's face at the suggestion. "If you want," she offered, " I could wash and comb out your hair."
"That'd be great." Toad felt ridiculously pleased. "Love." He felt even more pleased and smug to boot as the receding blush on Cheyenne's face flared up slightly at the endearment. 'For the first time in a long time,' Toad mused as the Professor escorted the woman with eyes like the ocean out of the med lab, 'things're lookin' up.'
If Remy LeBeau had seen the expression that flitted across the Professor's face as he wheeled out into the hallway he would have recognized. The telepath had worn it when he had first introduced the red-eyed Cajun to the feisty woman known as Rogue.