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Angel landed heavily dropping Scott as soon as he touched down. He seemed to be in distress, he was breathing raggedly through his mouth and sweat had soaked his platinum hair dark. He turned his head meeting Beast’s eyes. He looked like he was about to say something but a set of dark blue hands appeared on his shoulders and pushed him down. Three fingers, reassured the doctor that it was Nightcrawler and not an enemy who shoved him to the ground. He took the cue throwing himself over the injured Summers moments before a spray of bullets riddled the wall behind them. The whine and ping of lead ricocheting off the overturned railroad car they were crouched behind, was deafening in his sensitive ears.
“Got to move, bottled in.” Scott struggled to gasp out. “More behind, surrounded.”
“If we move from here, we will be killed,” Kurt shouted over the din.
“There are at least a dozen in front of us, snipers too. They are creating a sonic shield over the whole area also, I cannot port through it.” He caught the rosary on his belt and whispered a prayer for deliverance.
Hank considered the situation as best he could while applying pressure to the gunshot wound in Scott’s stomach. “Where is Gambit?”
There was a loud explosion nearby and a shower of debris then the Cajun mutant was dropping into their midst with a cocky grin. “You want Gambit, Henry? He here!”
He ignored the dramatic entrance and shouted over the sound of fresh explosions, “We can’t win here! Let the two gangs kill each other now that the residents are clear, we have to retreat! We need a diversion, a big diversion to pull them away so we can make a break through the front.”
“Gambit can handle diversion, but how we get past the snipers on the roofs?”
“I can divert them,” Warren stood up shaking the dirt and debris out of his wings. “I’ll give them a high target make them look up.”
“It’s too dangerous,” Hank protested, “you’re exhausted. You aren’t bulletproof either.” He gave a pointed glare down at Scott but he was unconscious. He fervently wished that he did have a few bulletproof mutants here, this would have been a perfect job for Logan, but he was on another assignment.
“It’s the only chance there is. We’re outnumbered, outgunned, and trapped. We have to get out the front, take out the psychic generating that shield and get Scott back to the lab,” Warren was matter of fact about it.
“You distract them, ami. Gambit take them out from below and behind. We get the snipers first then the psychic. Oui? Kurt can take Cyke, and port to t’edge o’that alley.”
Hank frowned but nodded, “I’ll go with Kurt and we’ll guard Scott until you get the shield down, once it comes down we’ll regroup at the jet and you had both better be there waiting or you’ll regret making me worry.” His voice was grim and very serious.
Remy grinned his wicked smile and leaned over to whisper, “oh, is monsieur so worried over t’both of us, or maybe he jus’ not want one special person in danger, eh?”
“What?” Hank stammered. A merry laugh was his only answer and Gambit was gone and Angel shooting up like a hawk on the wing from the filthy rail yard. The bark of guns followed them and his stomach twisted, but it was time to work. Scott was still bleeding and since he was down, he was in charge. He had to get his people out. He dashed for the alleyway leading to the front gate breaking the neck of one thug who tried to stop him and knocking out a dozen more that lunged for him. They were armed with knives and chains as well as guns and more than one struck home before he was holding a clear space by the gate.
Bamph! The smell of brimstone burned his nose and Kurt was huddled behind him cradling Scott. “He is bleeding worse, the porting is not good for wounds.” His voice was strong but Hank heard the edge of fear under the German accent.
“We’ll be home soon.” He tried to project a certainty he did not feel and found himself scanning the skies for a flash of white.
There was a massive explosion that sounded like it came from above them. He heart seemed to freeze in his chest then the wall behind them dissolved and they could see the outside again. He caught Scott up and began to run dropping dignity to use his free arm in running for more speed. Kurt stayed by his side running interference, but apparently the gangsters behind them were too busy picking up the pieces to follow. Finally the jet was in front of them and he took Scott inside strapping him in on one of the fold down gurneys mounted to the walls. He shouted to Kurt to turn on the scanners and look for the others as he quickly set up an IV drip and blood feed. He hung an antibiotic too, the place was filthy and it seemed unlikely that he could come out of it without some truly nasty infection.
There was a relieved cry from the teleporter, “they are here, Hank!”
The door opened and closed with a whoosh and he heard weary steps make it to the seats. “Get us out of here, Kurt.” With a whining build up of power the engines throbbed to life even as he was cutting away the material from the wound. He decided it would be better to risk removing the slug now than to wait until they were in the lab. There was too much blood, it had cut an artery somewhere. He removed it with as much care as he could and found the bleeder with the single-minded determination of a Saint Bernard sniffing out a skier in an avalanche. He had the bleeding stopped by the time they sank down into the landing bay. Jean was waiting white lipped and trembling with a fully loaded stretcher. He lifted the team leader over onto it and rushed with her to the med lab. It was not until he had Scott stable and resting comfortably that he realized that Jean had put them in the smallest room, the one he used mostly for storage. That could only mean the others were full.
He checked on the other injuries. Logan was regenerating a leg blown away right down to the dull grey of the adamantium. Any other mutant would be dead but all he would need would be time and quiet. The tendons and ligaments were already crawling across the bare metal. The other injuries were minor and Jean had stitched and splinted and wrapped them as needed. He was glad of it too since he was almost in and done. It took her gentle inquiry to remind him that he too had several puncture wounds and slashes that needed to be cleaned.
He headed for his own room and noticed Gambit sprawled in the doorway. “Remy?”
“Henry, Gambit wanted to catch you before you go to rest. He just want to say he sorry for teasing back dere.” He stood up and clasped Hank’s shoulders leaning forward to drop a kiss on each cheek. “You and Angel are close, don’ let Remy mess it up by embarrassing you.”
“It’s not like you’re thinking, we’re good friends is all.” He felt way too hot all of a sudden.
Gambit stepped back and tipped him a wink, “then you need to work a little harder, no?”
He must have gaped like an idiot because the Cajun laughed as he turned to go. He paused then and spoke in a flat voice totally unlike his normal tone without looking around at him. “Last thing Gambit say bout it, Henry… T’ings are bad for us right now, every where you look is darkness and hate. If someone offer you light and love, take it and hold on to it with all you got, cause sometimes tomorrow don’t ever come. My Rogue she not coming back, she lost out there somewhere in her own hell and Gambit can’t reach her no more. Warren right here in front of you now but maybe next time that taser not short out, eh? …” He gave a little shrug and a wave then the thief was gone and he was standing alone in front of his door feeling like the ground had just been yanked out from under his feet.
Slowly it sank in, “taser, what taser?” He turned on his heels and made his way up to Warren’s room. He knocked on the door forcefully pushing what Gambit had said out of his mind. The door opened on the second set of knocks and Warren stepped back silently to let him in. The winged mutant was wearing only a towel looped around his hips and was still dripping from the shower. He was also very pale and holding his right side above his hip.
“Let me see.” He walked around the tall man and made a soft pained sound as his hand moved obediently away from the burn. “Why aren’t you in the med lab?”
“It’s full.” His voice was soft and full of the same exhaustion he felt.
“Yes it is.” He closed his eyes and sighed. A long fingered hand rested on his cheek for a moment bringing gambit’s words back clearly.
“Let me make you a glass of tea, Henry. You’re exhausted. Sit down on the couch. I’ll let you poke and prod later.” There was an edge in the teasing voice, some hint of irony or bitterness secret to himself. The others thought that edge was arrogance or snobbery, but Henry found himself wondering from time to time if maybe they were all reading him wrong.
“Promises, promises,” the doctor replied lightly. He was pleased to see one fine blond brow arch up and a slight smile grace Angel’s lips. He smiled back, it was just as fleeting and weak as his friend’s but it still made him feel better. He was soon ensconced on the small but expensive looking couch and a short while later a cup of hot, sweet black tea was being pressed into his hands.
He drank it gratefully as Warren settled down beside him in a soft whisper of feathers on velvet. “Tell me what happened.”
“I dropped down to take out one of the gunmen on the roof because he was aiming at you and Kurt. I was in the process of punching his lights out when someone hit my side from behind with a taser. Not a street legal one either. I was paralyzed. It melted right through my suit. then into my skin. That broke the hold. I staggered back and went down and the attacker went with me, I think he meant to kill me. No, I know he did because he laughed, then cursed. I realized we had fallen in a huge puddle of dirty rainwater about the time the taser hit the surface and knocked us both flying off the roof. I got my wings open just enough to glide down but the attacker splattered. I made it the jet. I was lucky. Just luck, no skill, just dumb luck.”
“Or God’s grace some would say,” he whispered.
“Mm maybe so.” Warren closed his eyes and leaned back letting his head loll a little toward Hank. “That was good leadership back there, you know.”
“Ah, it was nothing.” He brought his hand up to comb his fingers through his mane of hair in a nervous gesture.
“I was impressed.”
“You were?”
“Yes, I was.”
He shifted a little, “let me see that burn, my winged friend.”
Warren opened the towel without hesitation letting the white material pool in his lap and revealing the entire length of his golden skinned side. He was touching the area around the burn lightly when it struck him. No tan lines. “You’ve been using a tanning booth?” He hated those things, cancer machines was what they should be called bathing people in concentrated light and radiation all in the name of beauty.
“Nah, flying naked.”
“Eh. What?” He stammered as the mental image accompanying that thought sauntered through his imagination.
“I’ve been spending my free time at the beach house. It’s private and isolated. You should come with me. You need vacations too, you know. You’re exhausted.”
“I’m not sure it would be very restful watching you flying naked.”
“Why not,” that edge was back in his voice again. “Some people would find it quite refreshing.”
“I would be concerned about skin cancer the entire time.”
Warren chuckled and shook his head. “Do you ever stop being a doctor?”
He hissed softly as Henry used the edge of the towel to remove a piece of charred material he missed in the shower, “Maybe when you stop being a hero.”
“Hero? Me?” He sounded doubtful.
“Yes. That is exactly what you are. “
He snorted softly. “I’m no hero. You do know that hurts don’t you?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact I do, but this is melted material from your flightsuit. It needs to come out. Do you have any of the silverdine I prescribed you after that little cooking fiasco of Jubilee’s?”
“Bathroom medicine cabinet. That taught me never to lift a pot lid just because something smells like its burning.”
“You get the gold star, my friend. It took poor Robert three burns and two sets of stitches to reach the same point of enlightenment. Be right back. Move and it’ll hurt worse. Trust me, I’ll make sure it does.”
“So mean, must be something they teach in medical school.”
“Darn straight. Meanness and the Stubborn Patient 101.” He rummaged around until he found the burn ointment and other supplies he needed then proceeded to clean the burn thoroughly. When he finished, Warren let out a shaky breath suspiciously close to a sob. “Are you okay, my friend.? I can have Jean bring you up something for pain.”
“I’ll be alright. It could have been worse.”
“I could have lost you.” It hit home then, with the force of bullet to the chest. He reached out and laid his hand over Warren’s chest needing to feel the strong, fast heartbeat below the surface.
“All in a day’s work, for both of us.” He pointedly reached out and touched the knife gash on his shoulder that Jean had neatly stitched.
“You know, Gambit said something strange a while ago.”
“He did? If it had anything to do with getting drunk at the Crazy Eights and a pool stick, I did not do any such thing.”
“No but that certainly sounds like an interesting story.”
“If he ever tells a soul, I’ll haul him back to the swamp air express.”
Hank laughed easily finding a real smile on his face. Angel had that effect on him, lifting his spirits warming his soul. He hesitated a long moment the took a deep breath and plunged ahead, “Gambit warned me that if someone offers you light and love you should take it. He said that he can’t reach Rogue anymore because sometimes tomorrow never comes.” He blinked. “That made no sense at all.”
A strong hand moved up his shoulder to glide through the fur on his neck and up to his cheek. “I understand. He said something similar to me when I didn’t go to the med lab. I was thinking about it in the shower. He’s right in a way, sometimes you don’t get another chance because tomorrow never comes, but then again, sometimes there are todays that are worth a lifetime of tomorrows.”
He closed his eyes at the touch and repeated softly, “I almost lost you.”
“But I’m here, Hank. You can see me, hear me, feel me, probably even smell me. I’m alive.”
"D you think maybe-“ he began, but ht lips stole his words away unformed and he dissolved into the contact opening to it and drinking in the offered intimacy without hesitation.
His hand found that tanned expanse of thigh and caressed it in firm strokes. He could not have said who moved first but between them they managed to strip away his lab coat. He could not seem to breathe as that long, athletic body rubbed against him obviously luxuriating in the feel of fur and muscle. His large hand curled around a smooth, firm cheek and the towel became a distant memory as it joined the other abandoned clothing on the floor.
Strong, male hands pushed him back against the couch. Warren straddled his lap huge wings spreading to balance him as he plundered his mouth with fierce thoroughness. McCoy gave himself over to the touch and taste and the fire building in his body pulling back only when Angel accidentally bumped the bandaged burn against his elbow and yelped in pain.
“Easy my lovely one, you are injured and we are both exhausted,”
“Stay here tonight, it’s a long way back down to the med lab.”
“Just to sleep,” he tried to keep his voice stern but that was hard to do when a blue eyed, golden haired man with snowy white wings was advancing on you.
When the conquering mouth pulled away it agreed, “just to sleep, for now.”