Wow – sorry for the lateness. School really stinks sucks this semester.
Thanks for all reviews.
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Bobby parked his car in the garage, as close to the mansion's entrance as possible, since they had bags to take inside. He opened his door, got out, and closed it again. All without saying a word.
Jubilee remained seated a few seconds longer, wondering why Bobby was being so quiet. Why was he always so uncomfortable with serious topics of conversation? Finally, she followed his example and exited the car.
When she stood up, it felt as though the world had been turned upside down. Feeling the blood rush from her head, she grabbed at the doorframe to steady herself. She barely made it, dropping her ice cream in the process. Leaning heavily against the door, heedless of the itching powder, she tried to regain her balance. Bobby, who had noticed her stumble, rushed over.
"You okay?" he asked, concerned. His worry causing him to ignore how ill at ease he felt.
"Yeah," she responded quietly, although she didn't feel okay at the moment. "Just a little tired. And dizzy," she added as an afterthought.
"Here," he said, offering her his arm. She took it gratefully, for once not trying to keep up any pretenses about her health.
Jubilee leaned against him heavily and felt him put an arm around her back to help guide her. Slowly, they made their way into the mansion.
"Do you want me to take you to the infirmary?" Bobby asked hesitantly.
"No...just tired. Bed, please," she responded, not caring to waste her energy on forming complete sentences. She felt very, very exhausted.
For a second, Bobby almost took her to the infirmary anyway. In spite of her assurances that she was just tired, he was worried by the sudden onset of her weakness. Ultimately, though, he decided against it, simply because he realized that she had every reason to be tired. She'd begun the day with a grueling workout, then spend most of the day shopping, followed up by a side trip to the park, complete with a confrontation with a bunch of bullies. Most people recovering from injuries of her magnitude would have been exhausted by just one of those activities. Jubilee had done all three. And he'd gotten so caught up in the moment that he'd forgotten that his companion wasn't at the peak of health. Bobby felt a wave of guilt wash over him. Never mind that she had just told him that she didn't want to be treated like an invalid. Never mind that she was aware of her own health status. He was to blame. Had he been more responsible, more sensitive to her condition, she wouldn't be in this mess.
"My stuff," muttered Jubilee, drawing him out of his self-reproach.
"Huh?" he said, momentarily confused. It took him a moment to figure out that she was referring to her newly acquired merchandise, which was still in his car. "Oh, that. Don't worry, I'll carry it up to you're room after I get you there."
"Kay. Thanks. Good friend," she answered quietly. In truth, she was barely awake.
Bobby didn't respond.
At the foot of the stairs, she stumbled again. Instead of trying to guide her up the staircase, Bobby scooped her up and carried her. She simply rested her head against his chest and slung one arm around his neck. That she didn't argue, or even comment on his actions worried him. Should he reconsider a trip to the infirmary? he wondered, even as he made his way towards her room.
Jubilee's room was in the middle of the wing. As he turned into the hallway, he felt her stir slightly in his arms. The action, even under these circumstances, filled his stomach with butterflies. He heard her mumble something, and he was barely able to make it out.
"Cold"
At first, he didn't know what she meant. Was she cold? He looked down at her, and realization dawned on him. Suddenly, he felt cold too (and that was definitely a rare occurrence). Her cheek was resting on the portion of his shirt that covered the icy patch on his chest. He hadn't felt her come in contact with it. Of course, how could a block of ice feel anything? Anxiety took a hold of him. He stopped in the center of the hallway, barely able to maintain a hold on Jubilee. His knees trembled, his chest tightened, and he felt his heart pounding in his chest. Or, at the very least, he thought that was what he felt. He wasn't sure if he even still had a heart. Maybe what he thought was a heartbeat was just more ice. Pounding against even more ice. Slowly chipping it away, until something just cracked.
Bobby had no idea how long he stood there, in the middle of a hallway in a far corner of the mansion. Dreading what Jubilee would say next. Finally, after a silence that seemed to span hours, but probably lasted for less than five seconds, he looked down at the young woman in his arms again. She was fast asleep, still leaning against the ice that he had tried so hard to hide. Relief washed over him. Well, mostly. He was shocked to find that a small part of him was disappointed. At least, had Jubilee discovered his secret, he wouldn't have to hide anymore. For better or worse, at least his days of lying to his friends and eluding contact with others would have been over. Now? Who knew when, or even if there would be an end to all of this secrecy?
He waited in that hall several more minutes, until his heart rate (if that's what it really was) returned to normal and his breathing steadied. Then, ensuring he had a firm hold on Jubilee, he walked the rest of the way to her room. Her door was unlocked, and he let himself in. He placed her gently onto her bed, and pulled the covers over her. Still worried, he checked to make sure she was still asleep. She was, and he left as quietly as possible.
A million questions raced through Bobby's head as he made his way towards the infirmary. Was Jubilee all right? Should he have ignored her wishes and taken her to the infirmary? Would she remember feeling the cold beneath his cotton shirt when she finally woke up? The last question worried him especially, and he felt guilty that he was putting his concerns about his condition above his worries about Jubilee's health. Especially when he blamed himself for her situation. If only he'd remembered that she was still recovering from, well, death. Or being brought back from death. Something along those lines. He became so engrossed in self-recrimination that he almost passed right by the infirmary.
Once he realized he'd reached his destination, Bobby paused to clear his thoughts. Although he didn't expect to find anyone inside at this late hour (and if anyone was going to be there, it would probably be Hank), Bobby knew it was not uncommon to find the Professor running tests with the equipment the lab housed. If Xavier, or any other telepath, happened to be inside, Bobby didn't want them picking up on his thoughts. Any of them. Steeling himself, he opened the door.
For once, there were no patients recuperating in the beds that occupied the main room. Although most of the facility was dark, Bobby spotted a light off to the side. If he wasn't mistaken, that was the lab where blood tests were run. Quietly, he approached the open door. He looked inside and was not surprised to find a gigantic, fur covered mutant pipetting drops of liquid into a test tube of what was probably blood serum. He knocked on the door quietly, trying not to startle Hank. Though he enjoyed playing tricks on his friend, the last time he'd snuck up on Hank in the laboratory he'd frightened the good doctor into dropping his work. Bobby still didn't what the contents of that petri dish were, but apparently, they were important. Hank didn't speak to him for a week.
At his knock, Hank looked up, and then turned around. "I'm not interrupting anything important, am I?" asked Bobby, once he knew that the Beast had seen him.
"No, nothing that can't wait," responded Hank, carefully placing the test tube into a test tube rack and laying the pipette across a large beaker. "To what do I owe this visit?"
"It's about Jubilee."
"Yes?"
"Well," Bobby began, "I took her shopping today. Nothing too stressful." That wasn't exactly true, but he didn't want to mention the run in at the park unless he had to. "We just got back, and while she was getting out of the car, she kinda, I don't know, almost fainted. After that, she was really weak. I wanted to bring her here, but she insisted that I take her to her room. She's asleep now. Anyway, I just wanted to double check that it was all right to not bring her here. Y'know, that she'll be okay."
Hank's brow wrinkled in what Bobby recognized to be concern. Anyone who didn't know him would be frightened by the expression. "No, under the circumstances, your actions were correct. This isn't the first time that she has lapsed into an unexplainable bout of weariness. In the previous case, I examined her, and found her to be in perfect health, albeit exhausted. I'm at a loss as to what was behind her sudden period of fatigue. I assume that the onset of her condition was rapid."
"If you mean that she was fine, and then suddenly, she was tired, then yeah."
"As was the case in her previous incident. I'm examining some samples she begrudgingly submitted now. It shouldn't be too much trouble to run a few extra tests in order to determine the cause of her fainting spell. But in answer to your question, the chief thing she requires now is bed rest. She should be fine in the morrow."
"Thanks, Hank, I was worried," said Bobby. Then, processing what his friend had just said, he asked, "You mean this has happened before?"
"As I said, once?"
"How come I didn't hear about it?"
"Well, the first episode occurred while Jubilee was with Logan. He brought her to me post haste, which I have no doubt does not surprise you. She has asked both Logan and myself to not 'make a big deal' about her it. I believe it was her desire to keep us from worrying about her."
"When did it happen"?
"Not recently, if that will ease your concerns. The last, and as far as I know, only other time this occurred was when Jubilee was recovering here shortly after her ordeal with Bastion."
"Think it has something to do with her being injured?" asked Bobby, both worried and intrigued.
"Possibly. My hypothesis at this moment is that her condition is at least partially psychosomatic." At Bobby's confused expression, Hank elaborated, "I think there's something mental at play here too. That's why I am concerned that blood tests will yield very few conclusive results."
"Do you think it can happen again?"
"I am unsure. To my knowledge, years have passed since her last episode, though I am not sure what that implies."
"In English?"
Hank sighed. He hated that phrase. He spoke perfect English. In fact, he spoke better English than most of the mansion's residents, present company included. And yet, he always found that saying directed at him.
"Probably not, but I really have no idea," was his terse reply.
Bobby had more questions. What was the cause of Jubilee's spells? What would happen if Jubilee was alone the next time she had an episode? What if something happened during one of the team's missions? But Hank had turned back to his lab desk, intent on completing his work. Bobby could tell he didn't want to be bothered with questions he couldn't answer.
"All right, thanks Hank, I'll see you later," he said.
"Mmmhmm," muttered Hank distractedly. Bobby was sure his friend hadn't listened to a word he'd said.
"And Hank, if Apocalypse comes looking for me, tell him to meet me in the kitchen, 'kay? It's poker night."
"Yes, Bobby."
"Oh, and Magneto might be joining us. He's supposed to bring the beer."
"Mmmhmm." Hank sounded slightly agitated. Likely, he was upset that Bobby was still talking to him.
Smirking, Bobby left the room. As he walked through the infirmary, he couldn't quite suppress the unpleasant memories the place recalled. There was the bed Jubilee had lain in while Warren's blood drained into her. There was the bed Alex had occupied while his consciousness resided in some other plane. Emma had occupied the bed at the far end of the room for months, years ago. Before she awakened in his body. The bed he was walking by now, the one closest to the wall, was where he had recovered after his encounter with Black Tom. The encounter that had left him in a new, icy, state of being.
Suddenly, Bobby felt he couldn't get out of the room fast enough. He hurried towards the exit, slamming the door shut behind him.
Bobby parked his car in the garage, as close to the mansion's entrance as possible, since they had bags to take inside. He opened his door, got out, and closed it again. All without saying a word.
Jubilee remained seated a few seconds longer, wondering why Bobby was being so quiet. Why was he always so uncomfortable with serious topics of conversation? Finally, she followed his example and exited the car.
When she stood up, it felt as though the world had been turned upside down. Feeling the blood rush from her head, she grabbed at the doorframe to steady herself. She barely made it, dropping her ice cream in the process. Leaning heavily against the door, heedless of the itching powder, she tried to regain her balance. Bobby, who had noticed her stumble, rushed over.
"You okay?" he asked, concerned. His worry causing him to ignore how ill at ease he felt.
"Yeah," she responded quietly, although she didn't feel okay at the moment. "Just a little tired. And dizzy," she added as an afterthought.
"Here," he said, offering her his arm. She took it gratefully, for once not trying to keep up any pretenses about her health.
Jubilee leaned against him heavily and felt him put an arm around her back to help guide her. Slowly, they made their way into the mansion.
"Do you want me to take you to the infirmary?" Bobby asked hesitantly.
"No...just tired. Bed, please," she responded, not caring to waste her energy on forming complete sentences. She felt very, very exhausted.
For a second, Bobby almost took her to the infirmary anyway. In spite of her assurances that she was just tired, he was worried by the sudden onset of her weakness. Ultimately, though, he decided against it, simply because he realized that she had every reason to be tired. She'd begun the day with a grueling workout, then spend most of the day shopping, followed up by a side trip to the park, complete with a confrontation with a bunch of bullies. Most people recovering from injuries of her magnitude would have been exhausted by just one of those activities. Jubilee had done all three. And he'd gotten so caught up in the moment that he'd forgotten that his companion wasn't at the peak of health. Bobby felt a wave of guilt wash over him. Never mind that she had just told him that she didn't want to be treated like an invalid. Never mind that she was aware of her own health status. He was to blame. Had he been more responsible, more sensitive to her condition, she wouldn't be in this mess.
"My stuff," muttered Jubilee, drawing him out of his self-reproach.
"Huh?" he said, momentarily confused. It took him a moment to figure out that she was referring to her newly acquired merchandise, which was still in his car. "Oh, that. Don't worry, I'll carry it up to you're room after I get you there."
"Kay. Thanks. Good friend," she answered quietly. In truth, she was barely awake.
Bobby didn't respond.
At the foot of the stairs, she stumbled again. Instead of trying to guide her up the staircase, Bobby scooped her up and carried her. She simply rested her head against his chest and slung one arm around his neck. That she didn't argue, or even comment on his actions worried him. Should he reconsider a trip to the infirmary? he wondered, even as he made his way towards her room.
Jubilee's room was in the middle of the wing. As he turned into the hallway, he felt her stir slightly in his arms. The action, even under these circumstances, filled his stomach with butterflies. He heard her mumble something, and he was barely able to make it out.
"Cold"
At first, he didn't know what she meant. Was she cold? He looked down at her, and realization dawned on him. Suddenly, he felt cold too (and that was definitely a rare occurrence). Her cheek was resting on the portion of his shirt that covered the icy patch on his chest. He hadn't felt her come in contact with it. Of course, how could a block of ice feel anything? Anxiety took a hold of him. He stopped in the center of the hallway, barely able to maintain a hold on Jubilee. His knees trembled, his chest tightened, and he felt his heart pounding in his chest. Or, at the very least, he thought that was what he felt. He wasn't sure if he even still had a heart. Maybe what he thought was a heartbeat was just more ice. Pounding against even more ice. Slowly chipping it away, until something just cracked.
Bobby had no idea how long he stood there, in the middle of a hallway in a far corner of the mansion. Dreading what Jubilee would say next. Finally, after a silence that seemed to span hours, but probably lasted for less than five seconds, he looked down at the young woman in his arms again. She was fast asleep, still leaning against the ice that he had tried so hard to hide. Relief washed over him. Well, mostly. He was shocked to find that a small part of him was disappointed. At least, had Jubilee discovered his secret, he wouldn't have to hide anymore. For better or worse, at least his days of lying to his friends and eluding contact with others would have been over. Now? Who knew when, or even if there would be an end to all of this secrecy?
He waited in that hall several more minutes, until his heart rate (if that's what it really was) returned to normal and his breathing steadied. Then, ensuring he had a firm hold on Jubilee, he walked the rest of the way to her room. Her door was unlocked, and he let himself in. He placed her gently onto her bed, and pulled the covers over her. Still worried, he checked to make sure she was still asleep. She was, and he left as quietly as possible.
A million questions raced through Bobby's head as he made his way towards the infirmary. Was Jubilee all right? Should he have ignored her wishes and taken her to the infirmary? Would she remember feeling the cold beneath his cotton shirt when she finally woke up? The last question worried him especially, and he felt guilty that he was putting his concerns about his condition above his worries about Jubilee's health. Especially when he blamed himself for her situation. If only he'd remembered that she was still recovering from, well, death. Or being brought back from death. Something along those lines. He became so engrossed in self-recrimination that he almost passed right by the infirmary.
Once he realized he'd reached his destination, Bobby paused to clear his thoughts. Although he didn't expect to find anyone inside at this late hour (and if anyone was going to be there, it would probably be Hank), Bobby knew it was not uncommon to find the Professor running tests with the equipment the lab housed. If Xavier, or any other telepath, happened to be inside, Bobby didn't want them picking up on his thoughts. Any of them. Steeling himself, he opened the door.
For once, there were no patients recuperating in the beds that occupied the main room. Although most of the facility was dark, Bobby spotted a light off to the side. If he wasn't mistaken, that was the lab where blood tests were run. Quietly, he approached the open door. He looked inside and was not surprised to find a gigantic, fur covered mutant pipetting drops of liquid into a test tube of what was probably blood serum. He knocked on the door quietly, trying not to startle Hank. Though he enjoyed playing tricks on his friend, the last time he'd snuck up on Hank in the laboratory he'd frightened the good doctor into dropping his work. Bobby still didn't what the contents of that petri dish were, but apparently, they were important. Hank didn't speak to him for a week.
At his knock, Hank looked up, and then turned around. "I'm not interrupting anything important, am I?" asked Bobby, once he knew that the Beast had seen him.
"No, nothing that can't wait," responded Hank, carefully placing the test tube into a test tube rack and laying the pipette across a large beaker. "To what do I owe this visit?"
"It's about Jubilee."
"Yes?"
"Well," Bobby began, "I took her shopping today. Nothing too stressful." That wasn't exactly true, but he didn't want to mention the run in at the park unless he had to. "We just got back, and while she was getting out of the car, she kinda, I don't know, almost fainted. After that, she was really weak. I wanted to bring her here, but she insisted that I take her to her room. She's asleep now. Anyway, I just wanted to double check that it was all right to not bring her here. Y'know, that she'll be okay."
Hank's brow wrinkled in what Bobby recognized to be concern. Anyone who didn't know him would be frightened by the expression. "No, under the circumstances, your actions were correct. This isn't the first time that she has lapsed into an unexplainable bout of weariness. In the previous case, I examined her, and found her to be in perfect health, albeit exhausted. I'm at a loss as to what was behind her sudden period of fatigue. I assume that the onset of her condition was rapid."
"If you mean that she was fine, and then suddenly, she was tired, then yeah."
"As was the case in her previous incident. I'm examining some samples she begrudgingly submitted now. It shouldn't be too much trouble to run a few extra tests in order to determine the cause of her fainting spell. But in answer to your question, the chief thing she requires now is bed rest. She should be fine in the morrow."
"Thanks, Hank, I was worried," said Bobby. Then, processing what his friend had just said, he asked, "You mean this has happened before?"
"As I said, once?"
"How come I didn't hear about it?"
"Well, the first episode occurred while Jubilee was with Logan. He brought her to me post haste, which I have no doubt does not surprise you. She has asked both Logan and myself to not 'make a big deal' about her it. I believe it was her desire to keep us from worrying about her."
"When did it happen"?
"Not recently, if that will ease your concerns. The last, and as far as I know, only other time this occurred was when Jubilee was recovering here shortly after her ordeal with Bastion."
"Think it has something to do with her being injured?" asked Bobby, both worried and intrigued.
"Possibly. My hypothesis at this moment is that her condition is at least partially psychosomatic." At Bobby's confused expression, Hank elaborated, "I think there's something mental at play here too. That's why I am concerned that blood tests will yield very few conclusive results."
"Do you think it can happen again?"
"I am unsure. To my knowledge, years have passed since her last episode, though I am not sure what that implies."
"In English?"
Hank sighed. He hated that phrase. He spoke perfect English. In fact, he spoke better English than most of the mansion's residents, present company included. And yet, he always found that saying directed at him.
"Probably not, but I really have no idea," was his terse reply.
Bobby had more questions. What was the cause of Jubilee's spells? What would happen if Jubilee was alone the next time she had an episode? What if something happened during one of the team's missions? But Hank had turned back to his lab desk, intent on completing his work. Bobby could tell he didn't want to be bothered with questions he couldn't answer.
"All right, thanks Hank, I'll see you later," he said.
"Mmmhmm," muttered Hank distractedly. Bobby was sure his friend hadn't listened to a word he'd said.
"And Hank, if Apocalypse comes looking for me, tell him to meet me in the kitchen, 'kay? It's poker night."
"Yes, Bobby."
"Oh, and Magneto might be joining us. He's supposed to bring the beer."
"Mmmhmm." Hank sounded slightly agitated. Likely, he was upset that Bobby was still talking to him.
Smirking, Bobby left the room. As he walked through the infirmary, he couldn't quite suppress the unpleasant memories the place recalled. There was the bed Jubilee had lain in while Warren's blood drained into her. There was the bed Alex had occupied while his consciousness resided in some other plane. Emma had occupied the bed at the far end of the room for months, years ago. Before she awakened in his body. The bed he was walking by now, the one closest to the wall, was where he had recovered after his encounter with Black Tom. The encounter that had left him in a new, icy, state of being.
Suddenly, Bobby felt he couldn't get out of the room fast enough. He hurried towards the exit, slamming the door shut behind him.