AN: Hi guys! Next chapter will be the big one - hope the suspense is killing you! It's certainly giving these guys trouble...
Maddy gasped as Raven wrapped her up in a bear hug so tight that she could hardly breathe.
"Oh my God oh my God oh my God! I'm so happy you came to us! You're amazing!" The blue girl spun around swinging Maddy in a circle.
"Raven, put me down!" the younger girl squealed. Raven complied, but was still so excited she couldn't keep from jumping up and down.
"I'm sorry! It's just such fantastic news. Charles has been so unhappy-" Charles opened his mouth at this, but Raven ploughed ahead - "oh, shut up Charles, you know you have, that British stiff upper lip crap doesn't fool me."
Raven bent over her brother's wheelchair and caught him in his own rib-cracking hug. He winced theatrically over her shoulder.
"Lord, girl, don't break my back all over again!"
Both of them laughed, and Maddy felt a thrill of pride, of joy, that her gift could allow them both to laugh together about Charles's disability, so confident were they that it would soon be a thing of the past.
Telling Raven had definitely been the highlight. She had told Hank first, not wanting to get Raven's hopes up until they were more certain that what they hoped was in fact possible. Maddy had been worried he'd be mad that she had kept so much from him; and he did get angry at intervals, especially when she described how Fiskel cut her finger off out of scientific curiosity – at that, he gave a most un-Hank-like growl, and crushed his coffee mug to smithereens. But by the time she had finished, she saw no anger in his eyes, only sadness and something else - something soft and warm and wanting that she couldn't quite identify.
"You've been so brave," he had said, and awkwardly patted her shoulder. Hank wasn't much given to physical contact, so this embarrassed both of them. Hank went slightly mauve, and then started babbling about myeloproliferative blood disorders, the properties of stem cells, and a hundred other probable root explanations of her mutation. If she hadn't had the memory she had, it would have been impossible to keep up with him. He had started researching straight away, and within a week had a theoretical grasp of the process he believed occurred when her blood or organs was transmitted to another host.
Then it had been time to tell Raven that her new, mysterious best friend might have the power to make her brother walk again (with help from Hank).
The result was electric. Raven had been instantly exuberant, not plagued by any of the doubts that had seen Hank sweating over his textbooks late into the night for the preceding week. She had even impulsively kissed Hank; but that had been unfortunate. He had recoiled as if caught in an illicit tryst, so violently no-one present could pretend they hadn't noticed it. Raven's laughing eyes hooded over with hurt, then narrowed as she looked from Hank looking anxiously at Madeline. But she had soon snapped out of it, too excited for Charles to let Hank's gaucherie spoil the moment.
Erik watched with Charles and Raven as Hank draw a vial of Maddy's blood. Erik had casually walked behind the girl while Hank was preparing the syringe, and as she tensed when the needle went in, he rested his hand reassuringly between her shoulder blades. She had smiled up gratefully at him.
Charles was always solicitous, making sure she was comfortable with each step of the process. And Hank treated Maddy as if she was made of glass, so careful not to alarm her that he reminded Erik of nothing so much as a slightly simple-minded farmhand trying to gentle a skittish pony. But only Erik really understood.
So far, Maddy had held up admirably – coping with telling Raven and Hank about her gift; going back to the sick bay not as a student, but a patient; allowing Hank to scan her, to take DNA samples. She said it helped a lot that it was Hank; she trusted him implicitly, and he had encouraged her to participate fully in all his of his analysis.
"It's your biology after all; who better to unlock its secrets?"
Most of the time, Maddy seemed in control. But every now and then, the memories of her past threatened to unhinge her. Erik knew by common instinct when these moments were likely to occur, and somehow contrived to always be at her side, to offer her silent support. It was the least he owed her for putting herself through all of this for Charles. And, selfishly, he knew how critical it was to keep her on an even keel. Having come so far down this road, Erik wasn't sure Charles would be able to bear it if Maddy pulled out.
Projection, my darling.
Erik scowled at Charles's reproving voice in his head. Alright, so he was invested; he wasn't ashamed to admit it. If Charles wanted to cling to his denial, pretend that he wasn't just as obsessed with the success of the upcoming procedure, there wasn't much Erik could say to prove him a liar – Charles was the mind reader, not him.
But Erik wasn't blind; he'd noticed how distracted Charles had been; kept waking in the middle of the night to find his lover sitting up in bed, staring at his useless legs with a passionate intensity that dissolved into a weak, welcoming smile as he became aware of Erik's observation. Since Madeline had agreed to proceed, the imperturbable telepath had been the equivalent – for him – of a cat on a hot tin roof.
"Damn it," Hank muttered from the bench, peering down the microscope. Instantly, they all crowded around him.
"What is it?" Maddy asked. Hank sighed in frustration.
"The mutations in your blood seem to insist upon a living host."
Erik's face must have been as blank as Raven's was. Hank elaborated.
"The regenerative properties of the blood vanish almost immediately after I draw it. I can't recreate the effect under a microscope. When I combine it with this sample of diseased blood here in the petri dish, it just behaves like anybody's would." Seeing their expressions, he hastened to explain. "It doesn't mean we can't perform the procedure. It just means I can't be sure it will work. Your Dr Fiskel never tried to reverse a paralysis, did he?" he asked, turning to Madeline.
"No, never. I don't suppose it had occurred to him. Cancers, transplants, sickle cell - never a paralysed person. But everything he did try worked. Maybe it just never came up; or maybe he thought paralysis wouldn't be affected, after the amputation of my finger wasn't helped by my mutation." She looked down at her hands. "Maybe he was right. Maybe this isn't going to work."
Erik felt a cold chill lift the hairs on the back of his neck. But Hank shook his head, pushing his glasses up his nose with a speculative expression.
"There's no reason to assume that. I just wish I could at least test the reaction, observe it under lab conditions. Your blood and Charles's is compatible at least - Maddy's O negative, which figures I suppose. But there isn't much else that we can do besides trying out a spinal fluid transfusion – that seems like it would be our best option for having any impact on Charles's condition. But all of this is just guess-work; there's obviously no recommended treatment for trying to cure incurable paralysis with mutated blood. I just wish there was some way I could be more sure before we go ahead." Hank ran a huge paw through his shaggy hair, rumpling it. "I feel like I'm working in the dark here."
Charles wheeled over, patted the young doctor on the back. "Don't feel under pressure, Hank. There isn't any rush. We don't have to do anything until you're comfortable with it."
Erik shot a dark look at Hank; if he was still skittish of taking chances after his own disaster, they could still be in this lab until judgment day. But Hank's face was resigned.
"To be honest, if we can't isolate the reaction - and God knows, we've been trying - this is as ready as we're going to get."
She tried to hide it, but Erik noticed Madeline gulp. All the tests, all the preparation, had been leading up to this point - the moment where they could attempt the cure. But now that it was here, he wondered if she could really go through with it - allow anyone, even Hank, to put her under anaesthetic; cut into her back; take her fluid from her spine. He wondered if anything short of physical force could bring him back to the operating table after his experience with Shaw. Even thinking about it made the gorge rise in his throat, made every piece of metal in the room call out to his power, advertising its potential as a weapon, turned every exit into an escape.
"I repeat," Charles said, his eyes on Madeline, "there is no hurry. I've been like this for getting on a year. I can go on like it a while longer. We aren't going to do a thing until and unless everyone is ready."
Erik felt a surge of pride and relief as Madeline squared her shoulders, stiffened her spine. She summoned up a shaky smile for Charles.
"If you're ready, and Hank is, I am too. Tomorrow?"
Tomorrow. Erik could hardly believe it. Madeline's brittle bravura held, but everyone else suddenly looked grave – even Raven's ebullience was quelled when she realised her brother and her friend were really going under the knife the next day. Charles looked serious, Hank thoughtful – probably planning the logistics already.
Erik felt his own expression shut down, the habit of a lifetime kicking in as he responded to his sudden fear by forcing it down to the bottom of his mind, stamping out the weakness that made him think that no possible benefit was worth taking any risk at all with Charles's safety.
H will be fine, Erik insisted to the fear. He has to be. He'll be better than fine. Everything will be just like it was before.
The five of them dispersed around the mansion by common consent – Hank back to his bench for a last-minute bone-up on spinal surgery, Erik and Charles to play game after desultory game of chess to avoid thinking about the morning to come.
Raven and Madeline were wandering aimlessly around the grounds. Maddy inhaled the scents of grass and bark and wood smoke on the evening air, trying to convince herself that everything would be alright, that Hank would never hurt her, that all this would be worth it in the end when she and Charles walked out of the sick bay together, whole and healed.
Raven was unusually silent; Maddy assumed it was because of her concern for Charles, so was surprised when the blue girl said, almost disbelievingly: "He likes you. Hank. He likes you like that."
There was no accusation in her tone – just surprise and a sorrow that made Maddy feel as bad as if there was.
"I'm sure he doesn't. Hank and I are friends, that's all. He's my teacher. I'm sure he knows that's all there is to it." Raven shook her head.
"No. I know that look. He used to look that way at me – as if he wanted to gather me up and take me away from everyone else and keep me safe, all to himself." She spoke flatly, then her voice broke. "I used to love that look."
Maddy was horrified. She liked Hank very much – he was so clever, so kind, had taught her so much. But little as she knew of love – romantic love, that is – she knew she could never love Hank like that. Hank was a comfort, a cosy familiar presence who made her feel safe, content. He didn't light the fire in her she had seen burn between Charles and Erik, or blazing in Azazel's blue eyes when he saw Mystique. Moreover, she could never do that to her friend. Maddy looked at the blue girl with troubled eyes, not knowing how to relieve Raven's pain.
"It's nothing," she said awkwardly. "Even if you're right, it'll blow over. Nothing would ever happen." Raven gave a one-shouldered shrug.
"Doesn't make any difference. Just because he stopped loving you wouldn't mean he loved me again, would it?" She huffed out a sigh, then stiffened her spine.
"It's not your fault, Maddy – or his. It's my own shit, and I need to get over it. Don't you worry about me – you've got enough on your plate as it is." She put her arm round Maddy and qave her a friendly squeeze. "And anyway, he'd be a lucky guy," she said - too heartily, but obviously sincere.
They walked on in silence for a while longer, then Raven asked:
"Did you mean it – you think you can't love him?"
Maddy nodded. The blue girl said, in a much smaller voice:
"Let him down gently for me, would you please? I wouldn't want to see him hurting."
Maddy nodded, but said nothing – for what was there to say?