Technically, I could create an anti-acid that would burn through the diamond in his spine… But the damage is already done to the nerves down there so they would have to be knit back together… Maybe small robots, no, I'm terrible at mechanics. Erik could have… No, okay, so this chemical ingredient should be enough to burn through dia-
"Hey there Hank," Hank let out a shriek (in his new form, it sounded more like a roar) of fright and just about jumped out of his skin. The chemical equation he had been writing out on the ground suddenly found itself with a long pencil mark through most of it due to his sudden movement. He looked down, and frustration mingled with rage bubbled beneath his skin. He needed that!
"No!" he shouted, turning. "Sean!" he cried when he saw who it was standing above him, gazing at Hank with blatant curiosity. "You've ruined my equation!" he growled, resisting the urge to take Sean's windpipe in a justified strangle-hold. He had spent the past six hours working on that.
Sean did not appear worried at the apparent murderous tone in his voice though. The orange-haired youth only cocked his head and pointed to the paper with his toe.
"You're writing equations? What, like math stuff?" he asked. Hank wanted to roll his eyes at the superfluous use of the word 'like,' but he refrained. He only pointed one clawed finger at Sean.
"Get out," he ordered, pointing to the door. Sean barked a short laugh.
"Oh come on beastie! Don't send me out of the closet!" He mock complained, gesturing around. Hank was indeed housed in a storage closet, complete with a cot on the floor surrounded by mops, brooms and soiled rags. It smelt like warm mold in this room, and it had been bothering Hank all day, enough to where his head was aching. But it was also the only place where he was most likely to get some peace and quiet.
Until now.
"I just want to know what you're doing, Hank," Sean informed him passively. "Alex is busy beating a boxing bag again, Moira is doing some Yoga/Tai-Chi thing on the deck somewhere and Charles is with Dr. Fisher dude doing some therapy for his back. I'm bored," he informed him, with a slight pout that was very unbecoming.
Hank, who had grown up an only child for most of his life, became suddenly aware that this might have been what it was like to have a younger sibling. I regret every minute I spent wishing I had one, he thought begrudgingly.
"Sean, you aren't five. You should be able to be self-sufficient without someone around to amuse you," he grumbled. Sean shrugged.
"Should being the relative point," he agreed.
"Well," Hank turned his back on him."I'm not a toy and I do have better things to do than play with you. Go scream at the water; see if you can pull off echolocation well enough to attract dolphins. It'll be a hit with the soldiers," he started violently erasing the pencil mark smearing his delicate work, temper rising when Sean still did not move.
"I can't," the other boy remarked, sounding a bit irritated himself now. "Those waves are getting pretty big. General says a storm will hit us in a few hours," Hank opened his mouth, about to tell Sean that that was preposterous, when he heard it.
Thunder, rolling in with a drumming roar. And lightning. He had probably ignored it in his experimentation. Well, that would probably be another damper to his work ethic. Hank groaned and rubbed at his eyes. Of course Mother Nature would be against him. It was never with him. If it had, I wouldn't have been born like this; he raised a furry paw and stared down at it.
"Mutant and proud," Raven had told him, but Hank could only scoff in his mind. He was proud of what he could do, but the way he looked and sounded and now had started to act? Like an animal?
How could he be anything but ashamed? He envied Raven. At least she looked cool. He just looked like a Gorilla. "Hey," and now Sean was poking the back of his head. "What are you thinking about now, Dr. Frankenstein?" Hank's patience finally snapped. With a loud growl that scared even him, he swiveled around and grabbed Sean's arm before he could poke him again.
"Don't…" He halted upon seeing Sean's wide eyes staring at him, fear and hurt mingling in his childish eyes. Hank saw why. His claws had dung into Sean's upper arm where he had grabbed him. Five tiny droplets of blood trickled out from around Hank's hand. He gasped in horror and snatched away his hand as if he had been burned. Sean remained silent, staring at the small puncture wounds in his arm. Lightning crackled in the sky beyond. The ship rocked.
"Nice claws," Sean gulped, at last. Hank was up in a second, grabbing for the rolls of gauze left over from when they had bandaged Charles.
"Sean, I'm sorry!" He gasped, as guilt slashed his heart. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to do that," he said, taking Sean's bleeding arm gently in his hands and bandaging where his claws had sunk into the flesh. Sean nodded, still staring at the blood as if he were going to be sick.
"Yeah," he murmured.
"Sean, please believe me," Hank pleaded, his mind flashing back to a scream of pure terror when some of the other boys got a glimpse of his feet and looked at him with the same fear and hurt in their eyes at Sean. Hank couldn't handle being a freak not only to the humans but to the mutants too. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said again. Sean seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was in. He looked up at Hank, finally blinking blearily in the light.
"I know, Hank," he said, and his voice was softer than Hank had ever heard, the mournful song of a Banshee. "It's okay. I shouldn't have bothered you, I guess. Sorry," he mumbled, with a contriteness that belied his usual spirit and bright candor. Hank stared at him, flabbergasted. "I just… I'm used to being around lots of kids, ya know? At the orphanage, I was always with other people," he shivered. "This place is lonely, I guess," he mumbled.
Hank gazed at Sean for a long time, speechless. Orphanage? Well, he supposed he should have guessed it. Sean was the youngest of them all at sixteen. Erik and Charles had not gone around kidnapping people without parent permission.
Where did you think his parents were? Hank berated himself, already knowing the answer. Admittedly, he had not even given though to Sean's parents. The other boy was always so light-hearted and candid that it seemed as if he were a mere boy. He reminded Hank a lot of what he had always imagined Peter Pan to be, careless, free, without ties or roots to hold him down.
And indeed Sean was like that- but in a very different way. Hank cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, um…" he was not a people person. He was a scientist. As so, his curiosity won over his common sense. "Do you know where they are?" An insensitive scientist at that. Wow.
Sean did not seem to mind, though. He gently patted his arm, thick with bandages, and nodded. "Yeah," he answered, casually enough. "They're dead. Killed in a train crash when I was, like; four. No one in the family wanted me because I was always crying, loudly," he grinned, roguishly. "Guess I know why now," he supposed. Hank nodded, wondering how Sean could smile about that.
Sean's eyes slid over Hank's face, assessing, before he went on. "The Orphanage wasn't a bad place," he assured Hank. "I wasn't unhappy there. The people were nice to all of us, sent us to school, made us comfortable… But I always had the feeling that they were so nice because they were paid well. Not because they liked me or anything, but because they liked what my presence got them. Plus, I couldn't very well let them know about," he gestured to his throat. Hank nodded understandingly.
"I was the best whistler, of course. The best spitter, too, and singer but that was all I could show them. Anything else-what I showed all of you guys, glass breaking, echolocation-I learned on my own. I guess even though I was surrounded by people all the time, I was always alone. I just didn't realize it until Erik and Raven left and well… what do you think will happen, Hank?" Surprised by the question, Hank could only blink and ask blankly:
"What?"
"I mean, when we get to D.C and everything," Sean reiterated. "And beyond, maybe. Erik and Raven… They won't be on our side. The humans will fear us like that dude who tried to kill me. Things will get violent, probably. Do you think Charles would send us all back? Erase our memories like he did Raven so that we never remember…" Sean gestured around to the ship and the adventure that they had survived. "Any of this?" he asked.
Hank blinked, taken aback. The possibility had never occurred to him, but now that Sean mentioned it, Charles technically could do that. And furthermore, Hank would not be surprised if Charles were willing to do that in order to protect them. The thought filled him with fear. He didn't want to forget, despite all that had happened. He never wanted to forget his friends, and the things he had learned. Raven.
Then Hank thought of the way Charles had found them and brought them back to his home. How he had trained them alongside Erik, and how now that Raven was gone, the telepath had been missing from their minds. Before, Hank had known that Charles was always a slight presence in the back of his skull, watching. Raven's anger had taught him a lesson though. Since then Hank had not felt him anywhere near his mind. Still….
"If he really had too?" Hank supposed. "Yes, I think he would. But only if it got really bad. Only if there was no other way," when and if that happened, he could not predict, but he knew one thing. "Nevertheless, I'm not leaving him," he gestured to the chemical formula. "I promised him a cure. I will fulfill that promise," Sean's eyes grew wide.
"That's what you're doing?" Then he gasped. "Can it even be done?" Hank snorted.
"Can a machine meant to enhance the powers of a telepath be invented? Can a metal sphere be powerful enough to withstand and control Alex's laser blasts? You, my friend, should have more faith by this time," he put a hand on Sean's shoulder. "In everything," he added softly. Sean smiled, and the old mischievous light in his eyes grew.
"Hey, I had faith in you and you clawed me,"
Hank gave him a dry look. "I already said sorry, Sean. You've got to get over it," They engaged in a staring contest, each daring the other to laugh first. Sean lost. It didn't necessarily matter at that point though because two seconds later Hank was laughing too. The two mutants laughed until their sides were aching and the bubble of graveness that had surrounded them popped.
The ship rocked with a long groan. Hank heard thunder rolling in the sky. He looked up as the lights began to flicker. Sean did as well. "Wow," the red-headed one breathed. Hank scowled, worriedly.
"I don't think that's normal," he muttered. As if he had been summoned, there was a pressure in the back of his mind and then Charles was speaking in his head, sounding concerned.
I have the same feeling, Hank, the telepath called. All of you; come to my room at once. I'd rather we were together.
Is something up, prof? Hank jumped, exchanging a started look with Sean. Hank assumed that they had both heard Alex's thought in their heads. Charles must have linked their minds somehow. He might have found it fascinating if he weren't so worried about all of them dying.
Nothing as of yet, Charles replied. But I can feel the minds of the men. Something isn't right about this storm. It's making them edgy and I share that apprehension, Hank caught on immediately.
The mutant with tornado powers, he guessed. You think he's causing this, to make the ship sink. He could just make out a telepathic sigh and realized that this was one of those times when he probably should not have said anything.
It's possible, Charles admitted.
We should warn the crew then, that was Moira.
We don't know anything for sure, Charles told her firmly. This could be just a regular storm. There are quite a few when one gets closer to the Eastern coast, I hear. Best not to upset anyone until we know for sure. Sean and Hank exchanged a glance before standing. Hank scooped up the formula and stuffed it into the breast pocket of his suit.
We're on our way, professor, he sent.
Riptide had heard the lightning before they even left the ship.
He knew that it was not going to be a bad storm, a mere demonstration from the sky that would pass in the morning. The American fleet would be able to handle it easily. But it would be the perfect opportunity to take care of the humans that had imprisoned him, and also the mutants who had taken their side.
He knew that the new boss and his girlfriend wouldn't agree when he did it. After all, not even a few minutes into their submarine journey, Riptide had turned to Angel and Azazel and sneered "those cowardly traitors," beneath his breath. Erik, despite the helmet on his head, turned around so swiftly that his cape had whipped Mystique in the hip.
"Riptide," he had frozen, heart skipping a beat when the metal of the submarine began to quiver with rage. "Never let me hear an insult against those people again, do you understand?" He had, for the sake of staying alive. He and Azazel had slunk away then, casting vicious glances over their shoulder. Angel had shrugged and headed over to talk to Mystique as if they had been friends all along.
Riptide had sat down, enraged that this new leader would allow those pathetic inferiors to go free. And why? For the sake of a few mutants who used to be his friends? That was not how this game was played. In this game, it was all or nothing. No excuses, no attachments, no mercy.
Riptide would be sure to teach the boss that new lesson. So as the others had sat at their separate stations, manning the submarine's progress towards Europe, he had slowly stirred his fingers in a lazy line, creating an underwater tornado a few miles away. He could feel it growing steadily, more and more with each passing second and knew that within a few hours it would be large enough to swallow that ship whole. They would all die; mutants and humans alike.
The small storm would make it seem like a tragic accident by Mother Nature. And then this war could really begin.
Riptide smiled, and continued stirring.