Work Text:
The Mutant Wars 4: Ruminations in Royal Blue
by Scorpio
He was so tired. No. He was utterly exhausted. The word ‘tired’ simply did not convey the proper emphasis to be completely accurate.
He was outright, utterly, heartbreakingly, mind-bendingly…exhausted.
Physically.
Mentally.
Emotionally.
Part of him wanted to curl up into a dark quiet corner somewhere and just cry himself to sleep. Another part of him wanted to rage at all the horrific injustice in the world. In the end, he merely sat alone and stared into his coffee cup as if it held all of the answers to his unending list of questions.
Starting with…’why?’
Why couldn’t people just live peacefully with one another, treasuring and celebrating their unique and beautiful differences?
Why stir up such hate and anger within themselves and others?
Why push for violence?
Why?
Taking a shuddery breath, Hank reached up to pull off his glasses. Then he rubbed at his eyes, trying to push away the tears that waited to be shed.
It was so difficult being the pillar of strength that everyone was leaning on. The one everyone was turning to, desperate for him to fix their problems, to heal their wounds, to mend their hurts, and tend to their woes.
It was hard…and so very lonely.
In truth, Hank didn’t quite know what to do. He was just as adrift at sea as the others.
Betsy was alive. Luckily, as she very nearly perished from her bullet wounds. As it was, she was in a deep coma and Hank honestly didn’t know if she’d ever awaken. Warren had just stared at him with broken eyes when he’d told him her chances.
Scott…Scott had been hit with a dart filled with some strange unidentifiable serum. He was analyzing it in several different machines right now, but Hank had never seen it’s like before.
It was sheer genius.
Or perhaps terrible, horrifying madness.
The serum had…infected Scott, for lack of a better word. The dart had hit him in his left hand and it was slowly but surely corroding his flesh away. Eating him from the inside out.
Nothing he had done so far had helped.
Hank needed to identify the substance quickly so that he could devise a cure. If he couldn’t, the infection would continue to spread up Scott’s arm and into his chest. He had to prevent that fatal possibility at all costs. Scott and Jean were already making preparations for the prospect that Hank would have to amputate the arm to save his life.
As for Jean herself, both she and Charles were severely concussed. That anti-psi machine had injured the both of them on a purely metaphysical plane. Neither telepath could use their mutant gift without experiencing great and debilitating pain.
Something that was most likely complicating Betsy’s recovery as well.
They’d recently gotten word that Logan and Remy had managed to get Ororo to the Fantastic Four. Thankfully. Hank had consulted with Reed Richards over Ororo’s treatment. She had been battered and bruised, but the majority of her medical problems came from internal bleeding.
Ororo had very nearly bled to death despite the fact that she hadn’t suffered a single cut or abrasion on her skin. Fortunately, Reed was able to perform the necessary surgery and Logan was a universal blood donor.
With several weeks rest, she would be fine.
Hank had also advised Reed to tranquilize the nearly manic Remy with an aspirin. The young Cajun would come out of it spitting mad, but he had desperately needed the rest.
Sighing another shuddery breath, Hank looked away from his coffee and up at the fluorescent lighting. He blinked his eyes rapidly, but that wasn’t enough to prevent a tear from falling from his eye and sliding down through his fur.
Robert…Bobby was missing.
He was just…gone.
He had never made it onto the Blackbird. He wasn’t with Cable and X-Force, nor was he with Logan and Remy.
No one had seen his dearest and best friend since the battle. He hadn’t contacted Hank or any of their friends and allies. Hank was desperately trying to keep hold of his hope, but…it was so very hard.
Hank McCoy sat there in that quiet little office he’d been given to use and cried silent tears of grief, pain, and fear. His team…his family, had been torn asunder and shattered into little broken pieces. He was helpless to fix it all.
Nothing would ever be the same.
end