AN: It was probably a bad idea to start a new FanFiction without finishing my others first, so I apologise beforehand to any of you who are reading another FanFiction of mine right now and are waiting for the next chapter. I just had to get the following idea out of my head.
In this FanFiction descriptions of a sickness with reoccurring seizures appears. I have no experience what so ever with this kind of disposition so I apologise for any mistakes in the representation of it. I wrote this as a complete work of fiction and didn't intend to give advice in any form for sicknesses of the sort.
(Trigger warning for detailed descriptions of seizures, muscle cramps and choking)
I hope you enjoy,
Your Meka
-
"Peter?"
Logan knocked on the teenager's door in the dormitory area of the school.
"Hey, kid? You alright?"
The speedster had acted weird after the mission. Something seemed to bother him.
At first Logan didn't notice. But when the teenager had refrained from using his abilities in any way after the mission, not even to reach the showers before any of the other X-Men in order to be able to crash in the living room and play his video games like usual, Logan had gotten suspicious. Even more when the young X-Man had disappeared to his room for the rest of the evening.
Logan had a very specific guess.
The kid had gotten hurt and didn't want to tell them.
Logan had gotten his fair share with that experience. With others and himself.
But other than the kid, the Wolverine healed much faster.
One thing just didn't add up yet though. Why hadn't the Professor noticed. Logan knew for a fact that the older man always kept an eye on them and regularly checked in on any people in the school without any of the mutants realising. So if Peter really was hurt, the Professor would've already rolled in on the kid and had talked to him, reprimanding him for his foolishness to hide an injury and would've taken the teen directly to the med station.
So maybe Logan was just overreacting and the kid didn't even have a scratch on his body but...he had to make sure.
Had to make sure...because actually, Peter seemed like the guy to him that would even hide a deadly sickness from the team for as long as possible. The kid might be fun and banter most of the time but behind that was a lot of undiscovered territory. Walls of quip and jokes covered up many of the actual opinions and real thoughts of the teen. That was what made him seem silly on the surface and led to the circumstance that most people didn't take him as full. Logan had the hunch that the kid was doing that on full purpose. A means to an end to evade responsibility and the disappointment that followed with failure.
"Pete?" he knocked again.
No reaction on the other side, no movement.
Now maybe the boy was just wearing headphones and didn't hear him. But the silence behind the dark wood in front of him and the unusual behaviour of the boy made the suspicion in Wolverine's mind turn into a fully grown out dark foreboding.
"Pietro, I'm coming in."
Dread filled those words. One could hear the worry in his voice that he tried to suppress with professionalism and seriousness.
There was almost a tinge of fear. Because no matter how much Logan wanted to deny it, he had grown attached to the kids at this school and even more so to the speed demon with silver hair.
Logan could see the boy's growth throughout the missions and was really proud of the kid that could be a wonderful comic relief for the team but at the same time fought with a great fierceness when things got out of hand and became a danger to his friends.
The kid wasn't even a kid anymore. Logan had smirked to himself when that thought had first crossed his mind.
Still, he couldn't stop his worrying when one of the students, the kids, were exposed to a possible threat. It didn't matter how much they matured. For him they would stay kids, kids that could get hurt, injured...that could die...if he didn't watch out for them.
That was also the source of his building fret when he creaked the door open and peeked inside Peter's room...
...and immediately burst through the door frame, throwing the door against the wall, a crash resounding.
It smelled like sweat...and beneath it lay a deep rooted and far reaching stench of...pain.
Logan's body tensed, his eyes opened wide, whole system on high alert.
His features turned rigid and stiff while he tried taking in the moment and not lose himself to the stench, that was so so strong. Emotions rose in the pit of his stomach, the smell of that pain paralysing his body...because everything that his nerves and senses told him right now was to fight and guard and defend. The metal claws scratched at his insides.
In order to stay in control, the Wolverine took in deep breaths and closed his eyes only for a short fraction of time, tuning out his fight or flight sense, focusing on his mission...to check on Peter, to check on the kid...and making sure that smell wasn't coming from him.
Logan's eyes frantically scanned the room and spotted Peter lying in a heap on the bed.
All curled in on himself, the teen lay on his side. The bed sheets were messy around him. His limbs spasmed, his whole form and body shivered and shook.
The stench came from him.
His face wore a deep and heavy frown, young features were contorted in pain and agony and pain. Sweat glistened on his forehead, fresh clothes on his body were already stained again. His eyes were screwed shut, teeth bit teeth. The kid's breathing sounded laboured...it was subsiding...coming out forced.
The pain came from him.
"Peter!"
The name was shouted into the air but panic made it breathy.
Logan rushed to the teenager's side, taking a hold of the kid's shoulder to get his attention and steady him from his shaking.
That seemed to have been the wrong move.
Peter screamed out in agony as his whole body jerked at the touch. The boy's limbs jolted uncontrollably as if every muscle itself convulsed. His breath hitched, then fastened and mixed with whimpers and whines and sobs. A cough resounded from his throat and then...
"Ahh, dammit..." the teen dragged out in form of a whine in between gasps of breath and sobs that racked his body, rolling onto his back. His arms clutched at his torso and sides, seemingly trying to suppress the shudders and twitches, fighting against the cramping of his muscles. His face again found that stiff, pained but enduring expression, as if the boy was waiting it out, waiting for the stings and jolts to disappear.
The boy coughed again, throat raw from the struggle to breathe and opened his blurry eyes, struggling to focus on Logan.
Logan could see fear in those watery orbs. But something told him it wasn't entirely because of the current condition of the boy...fear of something else...that Logan couldn't decipher.
He prided himself with the ability to be quick to figure a person and all around and about them out. But there were just too many emotions displayed on the boy's face.
"Peter, what happened?"
He tried to remain calm but that stench of pain and suffering and pain drove him close to the edge, panic still in his voice, worry...worry...worry for that teenager.
"S-seizures..." the boy pressed out, whole body convulsing, struggling for air. Chocking sounds emanated throughout the room and spilled onto the hallway.
Eyes rolled to the back of his head.
Tears spilled from glassy eyes.
Gurgling reverberated from the teen's throat, spit and blood alike being coughed up.
"Seizures?! What do you mean seizures?!" The Wolverine was full out shouting now, hands hovering over the kid, not wanting to hurt further. Desperation filled his whole body, his voice, his thoughts, clouding his ability to act. What should he do? How could he help? "Peter!"
No answer only more chocking and gurgling and suffering and pain and agony and...
Wolverine grunted, snapping out of it.
He picked the boy up as quick but as careful as possible. He could feel how the smaller body in his arms shook and tensed, all the muscles convulsing, restricting the limbs, the throat, the lungs...the heart.
Only then did Logan notice a small bottle in the hand of the kid.
He immediately knew what they were.
"Pills..." Logan mumbled to himself, snatching them from Peter's grasp, that was so tight and yet so loose, fingers unnaturally tense.
Then he ran out the room, as fast as he could. The med room, he had to get the boy there as quickly as possible.
"Professor! Somebody get the Professor!"
Wolverine's voice boomed through the halls of the school, echoing from the walls. Panic, worry, desperation reached the students' ears, a commotion building like a wild fire.
After these words everything went black for Peter.
Rising tumult and voices like a cruel lullaby, a grand chorus to guide him into the dark.
-
When he woke up is was a funny yet really brutal feeling.
It felt as if he had been swimming...unconscious...deep down in a dark lake...not cold though...really warm actually...and quiet...
Only when he started to float to the surface did he wake up, realising that he had been sleeping.
For his mind it was as if someone really had dipped it underwater and now pulled it onto the fresh air again, the water parting and then splashing and flowing of his mind, down, back into his subconsciousness, while he went up, his consciousness awakening, registering again.
What his body got in return was a feeling as if he had just ridden a rollercoaster. His stomach was all fuzzy. A funny, pleasant feeling.
But then he realised that that feeling of being underwater and at peace, embraced by calming darkness had only been his imagination. Only a dream. That had felt so good though. Now that the waking world ripped it from him, he was left feeling empty.
Wanting to leave that behind, he blinked a few times, eyes burning and feeling heavy, the harsh lights of the lamps above him not being a help in that. Wait, his room didn't have these lamps. The whole ceiling wasn't that of his room to begin with. Where was he? He turned his head a few times, as far as his stiff neck allowed him to. Was this...the med station?
He sat up and immediately regretted it.
He cried out in pain, clutching at his stomach while holding his weight up with his arms, already feeling a leg cramp building. His arms buckled underneath him and he fell back onto the matress, still holding his lower torso and groaning while slowly rolling from one side to the other, wanting the pain to go away.
Then he heard steps.
"Peter?"
Peter opened his eyes only to look none other than Logan alias Wolverine in the face.
"Ah, sorry sir." the teen stammered startled, reflexively trying to back up through propping himself up on his elbows, knowing that the adult liked his privacy. But through the shock and hastiness, he had completely forgotten the pain he was in and gave of another muffled scream, biting his bottom lip and averting his with anguish contorted face to hide his weakened state. Freezing in that half upright sitting position, trying his best to stop his limbs from shaking.
"Hey now, take it easy. You should lay down again. Jean still has to run some tests."
The boy was confused, giving Logan a questioning look. Had Wolverine, the Wolverine, ever sounded this emotional around him. And what did he mean with "tests"?
Peter tried to make his face look as sceptical as he could, wanting to shown the other male that he was acting weird and that he couldn't grasp the situation but the little stings of pain made his features scrunch up again, a hiss escaping his lips as the X-Man helped him lay down on the bed again.
He had to take some calming breaths, relaxing his body into the simple mattress of the medical bed, laying as still as possible to avoid anymore of that pulling and stinging in his muscles.
There was silence. Logan looked at him with relief but also...wait...was that worry. Peter wanted to jump up again in surprise but his body restrained him from doing so, only a small gasp and whimper made his intentions clear to the older man.
"No, stay down, kid. Really. Rest. I'm sure the Professor noticed by now that you are awake. He will be here any second."
"Tests"? The Professor? Peter was used to his brain being quite fast at processing things but the pain seemed to cloud it. That pain he was so familiar with. Not familiar with sharing though...
Wait!
Yesterday came back to him in a flash. It almost hurt his head. And from one moment to another Peter's panic levels rose to an extreme.
He remembered the mission. The cramps that had started to build in his muscles while they were still on the field.
He had to hide them. They couldn't find out. The consequences...
As soon as the X-Men got back the stings had crawled their way from his legs to his arms, making it difficult as to so much raise a finger.
He tried to suppress the growing pains in his body with the pills...the pills...where were they...
...it didn't work...the cramps continued to build up and at some point the teen had recognised it as another seizure...another
His instinct had been to cry for help...but...
...the consequences...
It seemed as though Logan had found him.
Which meant...that his mentor had seen...
Unconsciously Peter had completely stilled on the bed. Breath caught in his throat.
Logan had said the Professor was coming...
...coming...to talk...to see...
No. No, no, no, no. Peter didn't want to talk to the Professor. Really, he didn't. He didn't want to explain-...oh God...he had messed up...
Logan sighed and rubbed at the back of his head, messing up the bristly hair there.
"Look, kid, I understand you want to talk but just wait until the Professor and Jean are here so they can take a look."
No, he didn't want to talk. The X-Man had understood wrong. Had misunderstood his body language. He didn't want them to "take a look", didn't want to explain this...condition he had. Because when they found out...then...then...the consequences...
"Woah, kid, you alright? Is it starting again?"
Huh, what was he talking about?
"You're hyperventilating, calm your breathing."
Oh, oh, dammit...he was a mess...he couldn't face the Professor like that...hell, anyone...probably couldn't get a word out even if he wanted to...
He felt his throat dry out again because of the shallow breaths he was taking.
Lungs struggling to keep up.
Not enough oxygen reaching the muscles.
Muscles tensing, pulling, shrinking in on themselves, convulsing...no, no, no...
He tried to breathe, calm himself, relax his limbs, fighting against the stiffness, the urge of his body to just tense and tense and tense.
Breath hitching in his throat, eyes blinking rapidly, trying to get rid of the wetness in them, choking on saliva all over again, coughing, body drawing in on itself on the inside.
"Kid, hey, Peter, stay with me. Come on, breathe. Slow and steady."
Peter listened to the voice of the other man, trying to do as instructed.
"Slow. One after another. Breathe with me."
And Peter listened, tried really.
Swallowing all the liquid in his mouth, throat clogged, struggling again, breath speeding up...
A frustrated whimper escaped his lips. He pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes, the pressure forcing stray tears out, trying to block everything out, trying to sink back into that darkness again...
"Hey, kid, Peter! Everything will be fine. Breathe-"
"I can't!" the teenager whined, hands digging more into his sockets, sobs making his voice shake, body starting to twitch and jerk.
"Yes, you can!" Peter felt something heavy rest on his heaving chest. He pulled his hands from his eyes only to see Logan with his hand placed on the teen's torso.
"Come on, kid, breathe."
The words sounded so soft and there was such care in the Wolverine's eyes that Peter forgot that he was actually choking.
The hand on his chest was gentle yet firm, giving a rhythm in which to breathe, pressure being applied and taken away again.
And that actually helped.
Peter blinked a few more times then screwed his eyes shut. His breathing was still without any pattern, frenzied like that of a bunny. He concentrated on the rhythm that kept him from panicking, not even giving him a chance to freak out anew.
His breath hitched a few more times, choking on whatever was blocking his windpipe, muscles tensing once more when it happened, hands balling into fists to not lose it again. And every time the hand applied more pressure, grounding him as his ears were reached by a soft shushing sound.
That went on until Peter could breathe again, normally.
With a last calming breath, he opened his eyes. As soon as he did the hand slowly left his chest.
Peter's eyes felt all gummed up, his lashes sticking to themselves, and his body so tired.
He directed his gaze from the blank ceiling over to the face of the adult that was still sitting there, a certain patience in his posture and a soft smile on his lips.
"Good job, kid."
The sentence sounded genuine and proud but also so, so tired.
Wait, how late was it? Did the X-Man even get any sleep?
Right at that moment the Professor and Jean entered through the automatic doors of the basement.
"I see you are awake, Peter. How are you feeling?" asked the older man in the wheelchair, rolling to his bedside.
Peter frantically looked over to Logan, fearing that the adult might point out that right after he had woken up, a little panic attack had occurred and that Peter might as well could've gotten another seizure. But the man with the metal claws merely sat there, watching the Professor.
Peter turned his head back to the Professor that looked at him with a questioning expression, an eyebrow raised.
"Fine..." he rasped and he swore not one individual in this room believed that lie, not even himself!
But it seemed that nobody wanted to call out that lie. The Professor merely nodded, his lips parting in a small sigh, and looked the young X-Man over once.
Without lifting his gaze from Peter's body, the Professor asked "Jean, how is he doing?"
"Vitals are stable and the pain levels have sunken tremendously." the psychic answered. Peter would've made a bet that the female X-Man purposely ignored the risen measurements from only minutes ago.
"Alright, I think it's time that we talked." sounded the aged voice of the Professor while Peter watched how Jean prepared a syringe.
"Just something to ease the pain," she reassured him when she noticed the scepticism in his eyes "wouldn't want you to lay here the whole time."
"Thanks." the speedster mumbled, looking up at the ceiling to distract himself from the prick in his skin.
"I think I don't need to remind you...but take it slow." the school's private doctor said when helping Peter sit up. He just nodded numbly, his thoughts back to worrying, head hung low, gaze looking up at the Professor who's face wore signs of sympathy.
"Logan, would you help him, please."
"Sure, Professor. Come on, kid."
Logan helped Peter stand who winced and hissed at every movement, body in reality too weak to even walk. But he pushed through it...he didn't have to make it worse...the consequences...which he was sure of knowing...were already shattering his little world. He didn't need the pieces to shatter too.
-
Peter couldn't remember a moment in his life where he had wished more for his mutation.
He wanted to run. Run so bad. But Wolverine held his arms and shoulders in an iron grip.
Peter's reasonable side of his brain told him, it wasn't on purpose. This was just his mentor trying to keep him as stable as could be and support his numb and shaky legs when he alone couldn't. But the irrational part, that he tended to listen more to, told him, that Logan was stopping him from escaping. Peter imagined that the clutch of a prison ward on his inmates would feel like this.
He swallowed hard.
He had expected to be led to a somewhat interrogation room. Like those in the movies where the criminals were asked questions. As to why they did what they had. Acted how they did. Lived how they did.
Hid how he did...
But it wasn't an interrogation room...
It was the Professor's office. Quiet. Warm. Welcoming.
The room awakened clashing emotions inside of Peter, swirling in his chest, making him sick. On one side he liked this room. It was calming and like a balm to the soul, filled with wisdom and knowing. Therefore a warm and glad feeling ignited in his limbs. But that feeling wasn't strong enough to get rid of the dread...fear...apprehensiveness...
And so his rib cage was turned into a battlefield and his brain only thought of one thing...
...he would probably hate this room when they were done.
Wolverine guided him to a chair in front of the heavy wooden desk. And although Peter wasn't keen to start the conversation, he was very thankful for the possibility to sit.
He quite literally let himself fall into the leather cushions, like a marionette which's strings were cut. For a moment he felt dizzy and let his head hang low for a few seconds in which he was calming his breathing.
Then with a last deep breath, he rightened himself into an appropriate sitting position.
He tried to remain casual but to his dismay Logan and the Professor got straight to the point.
The soldier with metal claws placed a small bottle on the table in front of the speedster.
The sound the plastic made when it touched the wood, a soft clack, made every muscle in Peter tense.
It sounded so familiar but in this moment so definite to him.
The bell sound to his doom.
It was over with the intention to remain calm.
He was sure one could see it on his face. He himself had felt his eyes widen and his mouth gaping the tinniest bit.
When the teen looked at the adults, as soon as his eyes were able to leave the bottle with the small pills, his lips set into a tight line. His stare settled on Wolverine, begging for his mentor to help him. But the other merely stared back, brown eyes cold and cutting off any emotion from the inside, the care and softness from before washed away with the incoming tidal wave.
It was clear to the adults that they had to begin this talk because the teen would stall for as long as he could.
The older X-Men had noticed the boy's nervousness.
"Peter," Peter's face whipped over to the Professor with inhuman speed. He had a look in his eyes that almost could've been described as crazed.
The Professor didn't continue right away. To Peter is almost seemed like the older man thought of how to phrase his next words.
And again Peter's mind didn't let him out easily.
He's probably thinking about how he should tell me that I have to quit. That they are throwing me out. Just get it over with.
His breathing almost hitched again...but now was not the time for his drama and breathing problems.
Before the Professor could continue with his "right words", Logan cut him off.
Oh, and how Peter hated his mentor right now for always being so on point.
"How long have you been taking these, kid?" The warrior nodded over to the bottle and the pills.
Peter had directed his gaze back to his mentor as soon as he realised the other man would be talking and tried staring down those stern and unwavering eyes.
But who was he kidding.
He couldn't hold that for long. His stare turned glossy, shaky, biting his lip at the same time to stop it's quivering. The pressure of the moment being to much.
Like a defeated animal he looked down into his lap, posture turning sluggish.
"Peter, we want to help you. You just have to talk to us." That was the Professor's aged and knowing voice.
Knowing.
Peter snapped.
"Well, just look into my head and figure it out yourself!"
He didn't dare to look up. His face would betray him, he was sure...
His lungs contracted.
Fuck.
A hand grabbed at his shirt, the cloth seemingly tightening, too tight around his lungs. The garment crumpling in his grip, he tried pulling it away. His breathing again raw and dry and forced . And pain in his chest.
The world around him turning numb again, distant, darkness awaiting him...
"Even if I wanted to, I couldn't."
That sentence pulled Peter out of the pit.
"What?" He asked breathless, slightly looking up from under his silver strands of hair.
"Did it ever occur to you that not only your body was extremely fast but your thoughts too? It is not within my ability to understand the complexity of your thoughts...they are simply too fast for me." There was a confusing emotion in the Professor's words. A mixture between sadness and guilt but also small amusement and...awe?
Peter just gaped at him. The Professor continued unbothered. Probably on purpose in order to distract Peter from his own body and nervousness.
"I tried to read your mind, it sounded to me like a thousand different voices, all of them telling of something different. You progress things way faster than anybody else. If you wouldn't, your ability would be as useless to your body as a walking aid would be to a completely healthy person that is able to walk freely on their own."
Peter frowned at the Professor because of the weird comparison which basically just meant that without his quickened senses he would straight up run into the next wall when using his ability. But the man continued, staying with that exotic example of an explanation.
"But because your brain can work faster, you found a way to actually work with that walking aid and accelerate your movements. Something that would be impossible for us other mutants."
Sadly that metaphor had knocked on Peter's dark humour's door.
"Well, it seems that walking aid might really turn into one then when this body isn't healthy." Peter tried to lace banter and fun into his words but his voice cracked, making it sound miserable and grim.
Logan didn't take that joke well.
"For how long, Peter?!" the Wolverine demanded.
Peter flinched at the loud yell while at the same time because of his name. His mentor only used that when he was being angry or very serious. And by chance also when the warrior was worried but that wasn't something that had been on Peter's radar until today.
"Logan, please!" that was the Professor, voice as loud as the other X-Man's but at the end forcibly calming down.
In any other situation, Peter would have found it amusing that the two adults couldn't agree on an approach for this topic...but in that moment with that topic...it was just pressuring Peter even more.
"Peter, please talk to us." the Professor turned back to him, sounding soothing, completely different with him than with Logan.
Almost as if talking to a little child.
Something tried to mock Peter in the back of his mind.
He tightly gripped the material of his sweatpants, still the one's from his seizure. He looked down in his lap to try to ignore the adults.
He just wanted to disappear, back into that blackness where everything was irrelevant, time stood still and all you could feel was numbness and peace. Maybe that wasn't so far fetched considering his condition but exactly in that moment his breathing decided to stay eerily calm.
He didn't want to start talking because once he did...he wouldn't be able to stop...he knew that...
Keeping it in so nobody could find out, had been Peter's top priority. He wanted this, the missions, this school, people that were like him, that understood him. He wasn't going to blow that all up because of some annoying secret. Because of some annoying sickness he had.
But the pain was always there. Even after the seizure had long happened, the pain still lingered. And as much as the people understood him here, they didn't with that pain.
Sometimes it was so overwhelming...Peter just wanted somebody to talk to about it...beside his mom and doctors...because any other way these seizures would always be an annoying hurdle on his path. People wondering why he told them to leave him alone for the rest of the day when he felt the cramps, telltale signs of another attack, creep up. Almost screaming in full blown agony when somebody gave him a playful punch to the shoulder, in the end thinking he was overreacting or asking if he was okay.
Even if he tried to hide that dark secret of his, it always had a way to remind him that it was still there, not disappearing, his body made sure of that. He couldn't live without it, the doctors told him so, the pills the only thing keeping it at bay, making the wall only smaller but not climbable.
It would be easier if he talked about it...wouldn't it?
The consequences...
But he wanted to talk about it...maybe this school could even help...maybe the Professor-
And if not? The consequences...
What of the-
You would have to quit! You don't want that! They would make you sit, count your petty time! No missions, no running, only pity-
"Peter..." The word was a low rumble in Logan's throat...the threat of an angered animal.
"For how long?!" Pity. "Peter?!" Help...no help. "How-" No running. Not you. "Long!"Trapped.
"Years, okay!"
Silence. No other word to describe it. No sound, nothing, as if the record had broken short. Broken like Peter's resolve has.
Heavy pants filled the room then. Peter trying to catch his breath, his lungs wouldn't leave him in peace. He was sweating, fighting against the urge of his body to just convulse. The urge to just run. Hands gripped at the leather cushion he was seated on, head hung low, legs pushing against the ground to stop the cramps running through his legs like roots. Shoulders drawn up, lips pressing into a thin line, shutting the noise.
Ringing remained in the air. Taunting. Wanting the inhabitants to speak.
Logan shifted his weight from one leg to the other, studying his student. Peter could feel his gaze, figured that his mentor knew he just had to wait. Peter was cracked and he would spill as soon as his last shred of will was gone. It wouldn't take much. Peter knew and he dreaded it. What would it be that made him jump over the edge?
"C'mon kid." That was a low blow.
Logan's voice was calm again, almost soothing. Peter gave a derogatory noise as he realised his mentor had shouted at him on purpose, knowing it would make the kid talk. Well, it worked. That last sentence had been enough. And even before that last sound of his had faded a cascade of words followed.
The edge was behind him.
"The doctors just described it as "cramps" and "reoccurring seizures"," Peter didn't lift his head. "They didn't know the reason for them...but..." The words were practically dragged out of him, they sounded so pressed and forced. Still...Peter couldn't stop them.
Peter felt like he could hear the Wolverine's and the Professor's thoughts even without looking at them.
"But you know the reason don't you?" Peter hated that his mind made his teacher sound so empathetic and calm.
As he continued, his throat clogged again with all possible liquids his body could make up.
"I...well, my mom figured it had to do with my abilities-" His voice broke, he choked. "She tried to tell me not to use them but I didn't understand." At that he gave a dry laugh. "I was really stupid as a kid."
"No, you weren't and you know it." The Professor's voice rang in his head and Peter wasn't sure if it was his imagination or the real deal. For a second Peter glanced up at the older man through his silver bangs, the latter only looked at him with a patient and attentive look.
"After some...uhh...incidents...it started acting up sooner...sometimes even without me using my ability. I was six when we first went to the doctors." He reflected on his words. Then he added "We never told them about my mutation...my mom just wanted me to be save...not a potential Guinea pig for new meds..." He noticed how the atmosphere changed in the room. Drastically. It got even more tense. Logan practically vibrated with anger, eyebrows pinched together, face set in a furious frown. He was never one to like the way mutants were treated as lab rats, at least Peter caught as much. The Professor merely turned serious. Well dead serious as if thinking about all of his life choices again that lead to this school.
It was as if the weight of the topic had just doubled, completely sinking in and setting into their minds.
Peter didn't like that. He tried to ease the mood...make his teachers believe that "it's nothing"...it didn't really work though...
"But yeah, we didn't tell them so it didn't happen." A short pause. He licked his lips, stared at the ground in front of him, gripped at the cushions of his chair again. He heaved in a shaky breath and then released his grip on the leather and folded his hands in his lap, straightening himself a bit in the process. His eyes remained transfixed on the floor. His left leg started to shake in a nervous tic, thumping up and down on the ground.
"Doctors said, I couldn't get rid of it. They gave me those pills...since then beside a few visits not much happened..."
""Not much" my ass." Wolverine's voice sounded from the window. There was an aggressive snark to it.
Peter looked up, surprised at the words. He told them what they wanted to know, didn't he?
His mentor continued relentlessly. "Because as I see it, those pills don't always help, isn't that right? Either because they are losing effect or they never completely worked in the first place. That's why you had that seizure yesterday, right? Which means either it's getting worse for whatever reason, maybe because you are using your abilities more frequently or you had to endure those seizures irregularly through the years never completely getting rid of the symptoms." His mentor took in a breath. The words had as much as fired out of him. Behind every single one lingered the threat of hot burning anger.
"That's not "normal", kid. And with normal I mean something no one your age should have to go through and then act so casual about."
Some words were left unsaid, Peter noticed only at the back of his mind. His main focus was on something else right now. Because his mentor was right with both facts, not only one. That wasn't what terrified Peter though. It was the fact that his mentor knew those facts to begin with.
They don't believe you that "it's nothing".
The panic shot through Peter like lightning. His hard earned, desperate calm zipped away as if never there and an ice cold and paralysing feeling settled in and around his bones. As if his skeleton itself turned to ice.
Logan looked at him with a stern expression. "How many do you have to take?"
You forgot about the consequences. Now you will pay in full.
Peter's mouth clamped shut without him noticing. His leg immediately picked up it's pace with which it was hitting the carpet on the wooden floor. His hands buried themselves in his sweats again. He tried to hide his expression, lock off his face but the glare of his mentor made it impossible for him to look away much less make the panic and despair on his face disappear.
"Why- why do you have to- ack!" Peter started but was cut of by a sudden bang of pain that shot up his left leg, a cramp again forming. His hands desperately clutched at the appendage, trying to stop the shaking and thumping against the floor. His eyes lost Logan's in the process, his face scrunching up, blurry eyes trying to keep focused. He bit his lip, wanting to stop the pained noises crawling up his throat. All that escaped him in the end was a drawn-out hiss, sucking in air through gritted teeth.
Peter felt eyes on him, studying him, waiting to decide wether they should step in or if he could handle it. That behaviour left Peter with an odd taste in his mouth. Because this just made clear how much of an interrogation this actually was. On one hand the Wolverine and the Professor had probably also realised there was not much they could do. They knew Peter could handle it and counted on him to stay in control and keep it together in this situation. But the part that made Peter really nervous was that the two adults stayed serious no matter what, letting his body show it's weaknesses, exploiting them even. Making sure he himself got the severity of his actions, his secret and his "sickness". Although he was the one that knew best about all of those.
Peter hated it. Hated the fact that he could do nothing about it.
When his breathing settled down again and the shaking subsided as much as for his hands to slowly withdraw and relax, Wolverine asked again.
"Don't make this so hard, kid. How many?" His voice was extremely passive, neutral. As if talking to a criminal. Peter hated these voices in his head.
Peter was too tired to resist any longer. "Two a day." Was the simple reply.
Logan didn't buy it. "I don't wanna' know how much you used to take. I wanna' know how many now."
Peter let his disapproval show through a dental click, the tsk-sound leaving his mouth almost in a painful way. He's just about had enough of this.
"Why do you ask all these questions! Why don't you just tell me right away that I have to leave and can't be a X-Man anymore! Why take so long. I know. You know. Why ask me about my whole history-" The teenager shot up from his seat despite of the sum of his nerves screaming at him to stay seated. His voice took on a tone that sounded way too annoyed to come from the joke-cracking speedster.
Struck a chord. That reaction made Logan make a short re-take on the situation. This was exactly what Logan had meant. The kid seemed so out-going but nobody knew anything about him. The X-Man could bet this was only one additional facet to the seemingly simple picture of the silver-haired teen in front of him. Well actually it was more than just one piece. Beside those seizures, that anger had joined the puzzle just seconds ago. Logan in all honesty wouldn't have thought the kid could display such emotions.
"Peter" the voice of the Professor reverberated in the small office, easily sniffing out the flame of rage at Peter's core without any sign of the older man raising his voice. "We never thought of abandoning you. We want to know about you in order to figure out a way to-"
"What...?" The sentence made Peter feel as though someone had hit him in the stomach, knocking all traces of air out of him. He felt hope bubble up inside of him although his brain still clung to the thought that this was just fake, a fluke to trick him. Only then did he realise how fitting the word "abandoned" was. That was what he had feared. His mutation had separated him from the rest of the world, left him misunderstood. He hid himself until this school found him, made him realise he was anything but alone. And now something that made him different yet again had threatened to take all that away from him again, leave him misunderstood again, abandon him.
"But- but then why were you so serious about the topic?"
"You're not serious, are you kid?" Logan's voice sounded torn between anger and remorse. Peter didn't understand what he meant with that question, his assumptions didn't fit with the context nor the tone. Logan seemed to notice that, Peter's confused expression probably gave him away. His mentor let out a heavy sigh. "I wasn't being serious because we were about to expel you, I- I was just annoyed. Annoyed that you didn't tell us, didn't tell me, kid. Annoyed, because when I found you yesterday you were in such a pain, I thought you were dying and now you try to sell to us, that it's nothing?"
In this moment Peter was safe to say that he had never been this caught off guard in his entire life. Logan had looked at him with a death glare the entire time because he was worried? Either Peter was more clueless and insensitive than ever before or his mentor really needed help with the prospect of condoning emotions with facial impressions.
"So, no matter what I tell you, I can stay?" That question sounded weird in Peter's mind, in his mouth and as soon as he had spoken it in the room but he had to ask.
The Professor gave a silent chuckle at his words. "I would set some limits to the contents to "no matter what" but I can assure you that we never thought of sending you back home because of your condition."
Peter felt so relieved he started to laugh, it sounded a bit crazed if he had to be honest. He let himself fall back into the armchair ungracefully and wiped his hand over his face, in order to get rid of the wetness in his eyes or to make his muscles relaxed again, he wasn't sure. As his mind calmed down, he immediately regretted the way he had reacted.
"I'm sorry about my behaviour, I-" "Don't sweat it, kid. 's not important." Logan reassured him. "But it would help if you would answer my questions now." Peter looked at his mentor with lost eyes for a moment then he nodded.
-
The bells of the school rang in the exact moment when Peter left the office with the help of his mentor.
Peter had to admit that if his mentor didn't stop him with a reassuring grip on his shoulder, he would've probably bolted of on instinct, trying to reach his first class.
"Wait, wouldn't we have combat training today?" "Yep, and that is only one of many reasons why you are not going." Logan sounded distracted "Wait a second, kid, I-" "You're not smoking now, are you?" Peter laced a small amount of annoyance into his voice. His mentor shouldn't smoke, it's not good for his health in general, although Peter wasn't sure how the Wolverine's mutation affected that. Peter could say bye to running altogether if he would. They halted despite the teen's comment though in order for Logan to search his pockets.
"You know the Professor doesn't like it..." Logan looked at his student with a shocked expression, a cheeky smile greeting him. "You wouldn't..." "Oh, I would definitely tell him..." Peter leaned his body back in the direction of the Professor's workroom. The older man had stayed there after instructing Peter with the task to "not use his abilities until the pain has fully subsided". Peter was about to follow those instructions even if he didn't want to. But the promise of not using them until he felt no more pain was a bit too much to ask for. The stings never left him after all.
It seems the Professor should have made that order even more strict, moving it up to "not move at all until the pain is gone" because Peter should have definitely considered that even normal movements took their toll on him right now before he tried to walk on his own. But he didn't, so as soon as he tried to set one foot in the direction of the office, his body jerked in pain and his leg gave out under him. Peter prepared for the very painful impact with the floor...that never came. Instead strong arms caught him.
"You okay, kid?"
Peter just wanted to stay like this. Supported, something to steady him so he could relax. But he knew he should probably stay awake until he reached his room. Nevertheless though the teen took a moment to just lean into his mentor's embrace. Peter had to admit, it was weird that his mentor had such an undiscovered caring side but it was nice actually. This was what Peter had liked to have as a father figure. Not that he would tell the Wolverine though. That would get a whole other reaction out of his teacher, Peter was sure.
That small amount of time Peter took as a breather, worried Logan though. "Kid, you still with me?" Worry swung in the low, rumbly voice. Peter took it was his cue to righten himself. He gritted his teeth as not to let out a hiss of complaint when he felt his muscles strain. He already missed the hug and the warmth that had loosened his stiff features.
"Yeah...just really, really exhausted." Came his reply then. He was surprised how tired his voice sounded.
"Understandable." The adult sighed and held out his arm to support Peter anew so he could get the kid to bed. There wasn't much left of the usual hyperactivity of the speed demon but Logan had been glad to at least get a glimpse of it when the teenager had joked just a while ago. And it seemed luck was on his side now, because the kid came round with another teasing comment although his smile was a bit weak.
"Not gonna' smoke now?" Logan smirked at the remark. "Nah," he replied with equal banter in his words "like this I can support you better, make sure you don't fall again." Logan had had the intention to put the smallest bit of the snark into the words but he didn't manage. In the end his voice sounded calmingly serious that even he himself was caught off guard. But either way it had been worth it, because the kid gave a fond smile afterwards and mumbled a quiet "thank you".
When they got to Peter's room, the teen asked an unexpected question.
"What did you tell the others why there is no combat training today?" Logan studied his student for a moment. Especially with such questions from the speedster it was sometimes hard for the Wolverine to grasp the origin behind them. But it was clear for him now.
"Told them you wanted special training today." "Wha-, you blamed it on me?" Logan could hear a mixture between truly felt and faked offensiveness. "Well, in some aspect kid, it is your fault, took a whole night of good rest from me, made me worry real good." The first part of the sentence could've made Peter angry, putting the blame on him in such a way although the teen didn't do it on purpose. That's why Logan added the second part, something trivial as to not make the sentence sound accusing. Logan was sure Peter could've laughed at that part, maybe even teased Logan with the fact that he didn't sleep one wink but as always at the same time also conveying his apologies and his concern. The last part though, Logan added subconsciously. Peter didn't answer at that, only now actually realising how much his mentor had fretted over him. The laughter went missing in Logan's ears and he decided to say something before the teen would spiral down and try to apologise to him.
It wasn't something the Wolverine wanted to hear an apology for.
"Like this they won't ask what happened." The adult shrugged and moved to open the dark wooden door to his patient's room. "Yeah, but still-" Logan watched out of the corner of his eye how Peter tried to catch himself and keep going with the pretended lightness of the conversation, the guilt still somewhat visible in the dark brown of his eyes.
"Maybe they won't ask but what if they get angry with me?" Peter managed to add with some put on helplessness while they entered the room.
It made Logan chuckle. If the kid was good at something then it was to keep a conversation going.
"I'll make sure they won't." Logan assured Peter while he helped the latter to lay down on the bed. The sheets were still messy and the light hadn't been turned off since yesterday. After the incident half a day ago nobody had entered this room. As the teenager tried to get comfortable now, the scene reminded the Wolverine painfully of how he had found the kid yesterday, writhing in pain, choking on air.
What would've happened if Logan hadn't found him?
The X-Man tried to get rid of that thought almost instantly.
The kid was fine...
Logan moved to open the windows, it was as though he could still smell that sickening stench of agony.
"You wanna' go over it again?" The warrior felt his proteges eyes on him as soon as Logan had asked the question.
"I've already memorised it twice but sure, old man, go for it." There was a relaxed nonchalance to the teen's words.
Logan decided not to give in to the tease, this was a serious matter. He knew the kid was aware of that but again...this was just Peter's way of handling things that made him uncomfortable.
Logan started to list the things discussed with the Professor in his office while he sat down at the edge of the bed.
"You take six pills a day, not all of them at-" "At once, I know. Three in the morning, three in the afternoon." Logan sighed. "You won't go on missions for now, until the risk is reduced to a minimum again. If you notice any telltale signs, you tell me or the Professor." Peter nodded, eyes staring at nothing in particular. "You will go to weekly check-ups for now in the med station."
Logan paused to check if there was anything else. Peter instead added some things. "Professor said he would work on "something" to help me and I told you not to tell anyone of the other students. And if the pain gets too much I should inform any of you and Jean could provide me with painkillers."
Logan nodded then his expression turned into a frown. "You sure you don't wanna' tell the others?"
Peter nodded although a bit hesitantly. "I kept it secret because I didn't want it to change things. I'll just let them figure it out with time. Like this they might just be surprised but then take it as something completely normal if I don't bust into their rooms and yell around that my mutation gives me irregular muscle seizures." Peter chuckle dryly at the end.
"That's certainly one way to do it." Logan admitted quietly.
"Hey, teach?" Peter mumbled "Do you know any lullabies?" "Nope, not even a single one." The Wolverine exclaimed and the gave a silent groan as he lifted himself of the bed. "Just count to one million or something." Peter had to laugh at that but regretted it a second after as he felt his stomach twist at it. He tried to smooth the pained moan over with a cough but the Wolverine caught it either way.
Logan frowned again. "Want me to stay?"
"Relax old man, as long as I don't move nothing will happen. I'll be fine."
"You could just call me Logan, you know that?"
"Nah, that would make you feel young."
Logan gave a fond smile to that but didn't leave the room just yet. For a moment silence reigned in the chambers.
"Teach," Peter chimed in after a few minutes "could you close the window?" Logan did so without complaint and even closed the curtains a bit. "And maybe tuck me in?" Peter had been lying still like a corpse, not moving an inch, not even to draw the covers over him.
Careful as not to hurt his student, Logan pulled the blanket out from under Peter and then draped it over the teen's body.
Logan observed every little hitch in the silver-haired boy's breath and every twitch of his arms or legs. His student tried to be brave but those seizures really seemed to take a toll of their own. It probably hurt quite the sum. And again Logan was reminded how Peter used his smile and jokes in order to not worry people. Logan didn't know many that did it to this extent.
The kid let out a sigh, closed his eyes and tried to settle down again. "Thanks, dad."
Now it was Logan's turn to stare at the teen as though he had never been caught this off guard.
After a beat of silence though Logan's brain decided to accept it. "No problem, kid."
The adult turned around and switched off the lights before leaving the room.
-
AN at the end: And that's it. While writing this I had some ideas to add to this prompt, so maybe (forget the maybe, I'll certainly do it) I will add some fanfictions in the future. To whoever read this, a great thank you. Feel free to review and like. I'm always happy for constructive criticism. And again I repeat: This is a work of complete fiction. Anything that doesn't line up with the real representation of a particular sickness or reoccurring/irregular seizures was not intended but merely used for the concept of the story. So don't take any advice out of this presentation of seizures/description of sickness!