CHAPTER EIGHTY-SEVEN:

Recruiting Hank

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BEAST / HANK McCOY

Despite the early hour, the blue furred feral was still up in the med-lab, trying to organize everything in order to give all of the children at the school a check-up like Victor Creed aka Sabretooth had ordered. This in itself was no easy task. Blood work-up sheets had to be organized, an entire roister of the childrens names had to be gone through, sterilized needles and band-aides (many of them patterned with super-heroes) had to be gathered and laid out along with candies to be used as rewards or bribes (whichever was needed) and the medical history of each child drawn up. In some cases there were hardly any of these, seeing as some parents had simply tossed their mutant children out. The thought never failed to send Hanks fur bristling and a growl rumbling through his chest. Children were to be loved and protected, played with and cared for, taught and cherished, not thrown out into the streets merely because they had an extra chromosome or gene, the 'X-gene'.

Shaking the infuriating thought from his mind, Hank turned back to arranging the needles when he heard Logans adamantium tread coming towards his lab, smelt his anger. Hank, despite his blue furry appearance, was not a level five feral, he was a level four, but that still meant he had the enhanced senses and he did not need to turn to make sure it was indeed the Wolverine who was coming into his lab.

"Ah, Logan, how may I be of service?"

Logan gave his typical grunt before asking, "Where's Storm?"

The blue-furred Hank turned an arched an eyebrow at the Wolverine. "Still sleeping, I believe. She had a bit of an upset stomach this morning, so I encouraged her to rest."

"Huh," Logan huffed, crossing his muscled arms over his chest. "and that doesn't ring any bells to ya, bub?"

Hank merely arched a blue bushy eyebrow at his fellow-feral. "I'm sure I have no idea what you mean, Logan. I assume it's merely a small stomach bug that has been going around the teachers lately." The scientist felt a surge of annoyance when Logan began to shake his head as if in annoyed disbelief. "What is it?"

"Vic was right, ya need ta pull yer head out of yer blue-butt and wake up, Hank."

The scientist practically bristled, his blue fur rising in indignation. "I am quite awake, I assure you now if you don't mind, Logan, I have to continuing prepping for the physicals for the children."

Logan snorted. "Morning sickness, be'in tired all the time, I bet she's been eat'n some pretty weird stuff, too. Ring any bells yet, blue-butt?"

Hank was surprised to find his own lip curling in a snarl and forced it down. "If you are implying that Ororo is…." Hank cut off abruptly, his entire countenance suddenly turning dumbstruck as if he had just been beaned by a steel two-by-four.

Logan snorted. It was about time the scientist caught on. For a genius he sure could be slow sometimes.

The feral scientists legs actually buckled as one extremely strong, ape like hand lashed out to catch hold of the table to support himself. Logan didn't know whether to help the guy stand or let him fall on his butt and sort it out; he settled for simply waiting.

"Ororo….Ororo's …..pregnant?"

Logan gave a curt nod in response. "And Vic wants her up in the observation area of the danger room with the others."

Hank seemed to be beginning to find his feet and suddenly became obviously miffed. "And may I ask why Mr. Creed has so ordered thus?"

It took Logan a couple of seconds to sort out that sentence before he snorted. "You and I are gonna go hunt down the ice-brat. Kid's got answers ta give. In the mean time Vic wants all of our immediate pack in one place fer safety reasons. Storm'll be safe there with the others. I'll rig up some kind of bed fer her to sleep on."

Hank tensed even further. "I assure you I am perfectly capable of procuring proper comfort for my mate."

Logan smirked-he actually smirked—at the blue ferals indignation. "Good ta see you've still got some of those instincts. Let's see if they can still work fer a hunt."

"And why, may I ask, are we going to be hunting down Mr. Drake?" Hank all but growled out.

Logan gave out an angry growl at the thought of the mutant cub who was causing so much trouble. `Cub!? Since when am I callin' the kids 'cubs'!` He shook his head. `I've been hang'in around Vic too much…..` the Canadian cocked his head to the side in his own contemplation. `…..and shouldn't I be callin' em pups? Ah, what the hell.` He refocused back on the angry blue feral and hoped to the heavens that his brothers mates mentality wasn't rubbing off on him with her weird ponderings.

"Looks like the ice-brats got himself into alota trouble," Logan began to explain. "Seems he's somehow involved with stealing Nick Fury's infinity serum. He found out we were onto'em somehow and ran."

Hanks eyes went wide. "Oh dear, yes that is a problem."

"So if you'd get move'in we can start ta track him." Logan growled out in his not-so-subtle nudge-nudge-hint-hint way.

"Right," Hank said. "I'll just go get Ororo."

"Don't bother wake'n her, you can just carry her." Logan advised after the blue furball. Hanks response surprised him; the blue feral turned quick as a dime and was suddenly face to face with the Wolverine, his breath puffing angrily at him, a growl going in his throat so that Logans adamantium claws automatically slid out.

When he spoke, Hanks voice was in a completely guttural, feral snarl. "Do not presume to tell me how to care for my mate, Wolverine."

The Wolverine didn't back down an inch. "Then do it, bub."

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VOCABULARLY:

ABRUPTLY: suddenly

COUNTENANCE: n. 1. The look on a person's face that shows that persons nature or feelings

INDIGNATION: n. anger at something that seems unjust, unfair, mean, ect…..

PROCURING: to get something