Hank McCoy

It can’t be helped. She’s tearing up and she doesn’t want to look at him. Not because she’s angry, but because she has just been so sad lately. It’s strange how she would much rather run away from him right now than cry here when he’s only trying to say he’s sorry. She turns away and wipes her tears, “I’m not angry, Hank. I’m…” It was probably worse to say, but it’s truly how she felt even though he was there in bed with her. They were existing in the same space together sometimes too, but he wasn’t truly there, “I’m just… sad.” 

She couldn’t blame him for that though. Everyone deals with their emotions in different ways and she knew what Jean meant to him. It wasn’t her place to push for his attention even though she craved it. She couldn’t even feel mad at him for lashing out at her sometimes when the stress became too much. They still got their job done, still helped mutants in the infirmary, and still eventually ended up in the same bed at some time during the night. She was just disappointed in herself and him, but she didn’t want to say that.

Talia wiggles out of his grip and places a hand on his cheek. She tries to smile again, but it’s only slightly better than when she walked in. “What you did made me feel so lonely, but you were sad too. So I forgive you, if you are asking for forgiveness.” Talia turns to walk away again because if she doesn’t she knows she’s just going to explode.

Hank had a history of self-loathing, to a point where he’d destroyed most of his relationships- romantic or not. But he never hated himself more than right now. He watches her, the way she can barely get her words out. And he thinks of how much he’s damaged over the years, and how he never considered that total could include her. “Talia...” he says, reaching for her but letting her hand go because he wasn’t the type to make anyone listen. He just shouted to the world and hoped someone would.

“I like to pretend that I have a plan,” he says, hoping it stops her in her tracks. “That I know what I’m doing. Because I’m a doctor, right? I’m the one with several PhD’s on the wall, and when trouble comes and someone gets hurt I’m the one everyone turns to.” He swallows, rubbing his hands together as he tries to keep his shifting at bay. His nerves were overrun, his energy shot, he didn’t know if he could even make it through this conversation much less the one that went along with the ring in his pocket. “But everyone I love is hurting, everyone I love is leaving, and I can’t stop any of it.” 

He steps back til his legs hit the bed and he sits, elbows on his knees. She’s like a ghost even though she isn’t dead, Jeannie. He can smell her hair, feel her hand in his. “For a little while there, after Shaw, Charles and I were alone here. We, uh, we barely spoke because there wasn’t much to speak about. I kept him alive and being here kept me from being lonely.” The stillness in the room is suffocating, where the fuck was he going with this? He closes his eyes tight and sighs before continuing. “Jean was like a breath of fresh air,” he murmurs, “Like just her being here filled every room with sunlight. She was... She was our hope for a better future, for us and for young mutants.” 

“My apologies, mon ami.” Remy smiled genuinely, although there was a clear air of pride at the suggestion that Hank hadn’t heard him till the last moment. Unlike the other teacher, Remy was still dressed for bed. The only exception being the long trench coat and leather shoes, both wet with morning dew. “It’s only early if I don’ plan on goin’ back to sleep.” He considered the coffee that had already been made but decided against it and instead dropped two slices of bread into the toaster. “An’ I’ve got a mind to recommend da same ta you.”

Hank couldn’t find it in himself to smile at the other man, who he was often friendly with. Maybe their morals didn’t quite match up, but Remy was good to the students here. He cared, and as far as Hank was concerned that made him a vital part of their X-Men. But his emotions are like a storm inside of him, thoughts of Jean leaving and Bobby’s death scattering his ability to even function like a proper human being. He wished he could let things slide off of him the way he watched Remy succeed in. He taps the table before picking up his coffee again. “Would that I could,” he says gruffly before sitting back. “Classes start again in a few days,” which felt wrong since they hadn’t even had a funeral yet, “are you ready for that?”

Wade’s head start to feel funny, like that time he was stabbed in the brain by fucking Francis. He stumbles and looks up at Hank, “Ha! I’m just gonna get out of here… get outta the way. See ya later, sparkles!”

Piotr watches him leave, glad for now that he doesn’t need to process more information like how Deadpool is alive when he was unmistakably dead dead earlier. Turning his attention back to Hank, he frowns. It was like the information was slipping away from him. Anything that happened in Limbo was falling away slowly. He can only remember, “She would not let us die. She killed Wade Wilson to get me out, but I do not know how she managed it. It has been… ten years for me Hank. I do not regret my decision that led to my death. I will do anything to protect the Institute, it has done so much…”

When his attention turns back to her, Piotr is gritting his teeth, “You will have to ask her more when she wakes up, and she will. I do not believe you need to… do anything.”

Hank doesn’t notice Wade’s strange behavior, and even if he had he wouldn’t have given it much thought. The other man confused him, and he couldn’t really get his antics in the first place. Instead he focuses on Illyana. Piotr says he doesn’t think she’s in need of care, but he couldn’t just not check. He still couldn’t even believe she was alive, her skin warm beneath his fingertips. The last time he’d seen her, she was a barely recognizable corpse. And for a second his heart leaps, because if Piotr and Illyana are back then... He shakes his head, and the hope of Bobby returning with it.

It’s all very heroic, what Piotr says about not regretting his sacrifice for the X-Men, but Hank can’t feel it right now. He can’t feel the weight behind his words, because even if Piotr was content with it that didn’t mean it hadn’t left a scar behind. No, not a scar, but a festering wound that drew in misery and more death. And everyone here felt it, had become infected. 

Talia understood that Hank was in pain, she tried not to take his hurtful words to heart. His avoidance though, that was harder to ignore. At least today they were swamped with work. Talia was packing everything necessary in a box for Doctor Essex and she hadn’t realized that Hank had left before her.

After dropping off the last of the paperwork and supplies with Dr. Essex, she didn’t go to their room straight away. First, she decided to stop by her green room because she’d been avoiding it just as Hank was avoiding her. When she walked in, the plants looked exactly how she felt. Sighing, Talia decided she would walk over to each plant and bring them back to life one by one to pass the time. By the end of it, she was smiling and feeling accomplished.

She didn’t expect to see Hank when she finally opened the door, he looked like he was going to break her heart again and she braced herself. She’s a little surprised by what he says next, but she’s not about to let him feel sorry for her. “Hank… it’s not something you need to apologize for, you’re having a hard time. I understand.” Smiling, she walks farther into the room and goes straight for the restroom because she thinks the conversation is over.

Hank doesn’t expect that response, it’s the exact opposite of what he expects and yet he’s not surprised. Talia was easily the sweetest person he’d ever met, and she couldn’t find fault in even the worst of people or the things they’d done. He stands up, intercepting her before she hits the bathroom. “Wait,” he says before she hits his chest and catches her by the arms. Her smile doesn’t seem to reach her eyes and he hates himself for it. 

He hadn’t missed her look when she’d walked in the door to see him sitting there. She’d thought the worst, and he couldn’t blame her. He only blamed himself. “Baby,” he says gently, hands moving from her arms to her face instead. He stares into her eyes for a moment, hoping to center her here. To let her know he’s here. “It is something I need to apologize for.” He brushes some hair out of her face before kissing her softly. As he pulls away, he only does so enough to tilt their foreheads together. “It’s okay to be angry at me, I’ve been terrible to you.”

Empty. That was strange, considering the fact that it was almost never empty in here back when he was around. Students with their hair singed, or someone throwing up frogs because of a magic user. Eerily quiet too. Piotr didn’t have time to wonder why, he just set Illyana down and moved out of Wade Wilson’s way. It was strange, watching a guy normally not diligent at all, put an oxygen mask on his sister without so much as a quip or comment. Piotr backed away and sat at the foot of the bed instead of dwelling on the possibly not Wade Wade.

“No smoke, there was no fire. We are supposed to be dead. Not like Deadpool, but like Apocalypse. Dead.” Piotr couldn’t think of anyone else that should be dead, his brain was having trouble adjusting. It’d been almost ten years for him. Most of his years being dead were spent living in Limbo alone on that farm. “How long… when did we die?” He looks over at Hank, unable to meet eyes with not Wade again. This one makes more sense, now that he sees him. Scars and all, but he still can’t shake the sight of his best friend lying dead as an offering to his sister’s kingdom.

Hank gives Wade a thankful nod as he moves in, ready to place an IV but Piotr’s words give him pause as he hangs the bags in his hands. “No fire?” he asks, voice deep with his confusion. He sets the bags, and the IV kit, on the table beside Illyana’s bed so that he can move the oversized jacket on the blonde aside. Not exposing her completely, just enough to see the skin beneath. He checks both side of her chest, and at her stomach. “What’s happened to her then?” he asks, still distracted as he looks her over. If there was something going on here, something that had to do with her so called magic, then he didn’t want to do anything to get in the way of her own healing process. Of course he didn’t believe in magic, everything could be boiled down to science, but he did believe there were things science couldn’t explain yet. 

“You did what you thought was right for him, Hank. It’s not your fault.” It’s too late to say anything about bringing this new doctor to check him out. It’s unnecessary to place blame and pointless. Bobby asked them to help this way and in the end, it would always be the patient’s decision. They cannot force someone to go to a new doctor they don’t trust. The person would have to be willing and Bobby, understandably, did not seem to be. After all, he’d kept the condition a secret from his friends for awhile after it happened.

Charles was about to open the door himself until Hank finally let him in. What Charles sees is haunting. Bobby was just… gone. Reduced to a pile of ice and snow on the examination table and floor. Shards embedded into the areas closest to where he was lying. In shock, Charles doesn’t even manage to be reassuring like usual, “We could gather the pieces… put them together in a cooler.” It sounds strange to say it like that, but they didn’t have a body to bury.

Hank curses at Charles’ suggestion, turning away from the scene of the crime with his hand on his mouth. He was so exhausted, so down to the bone numb by this point and yet every single bit of him was screaming with pain. How could he not take the fall for this? He’d let a kid operate on another kid and now... “A cooler? A...” He isn’t sure what happens in the next few seconds but his foot damn near decimates his desk and the wall beside it entirely. He kicks and kicks until that’s not enough, ripping the file cabinet from the wall as well and throwing it across the room. “God!” he yells, furious and letting it control him.

There is no time now, he can see what she meant as the light they were going towards gets smaller with each ticking second. Piotr has no choice when she falls, he barely catches her in his arms and ignores everything else around them. He cannot let her die here because she is still his sister, maybe not the same little snowflake he knew, but still his Illyana. He carries her in his arms as duller metal armor surrounds him, it didn’t have the same shine here that it did in the real world. He’s faster now because of this skin and he manages to jump through the closer circle before it snaps shut behind them. When he looks around the hall they stepped back into, only one person is looking at him.

“Wow… Colossus is that you? You don’t look so good…” he begins yelling out for Hank, but when he turns around the big metal dick is stumbling away. Wade catches up and tries to help him get to where ever the hell he was trying to go.

It sounded like Wade Wilson, but Piotr feels like it could be another trick of the fade. Limbo was a hell of a kingdom and Piotr understood the kinds of tricks it liked to pull. He didn’t have the energy to interact with this Deadpool, real or not. He just saw a man that looked eerily similar to him dead, but Illyana promised they weren’t the same man. He’d have to believe her, but for now he was ignoring the guy. Piotr needed to get her help and he still remembered where those examination rooms were.

The mansion was in mourning for more than one reason now. Bobby was gone, unlike Jean there was no way he’d ever come back, and it showed. He might not have known how important he was to everyone here, but he was. Hank sat at his desk, eyes running over his scans again and again. Trying to find out why it happened. What did he miss? Poor Kitty, she wouldn’t even look him in the eye anymore. He didn’t blame her after the position he’d put her in. He figured she loathed him now, stuck by Scott to avoid seeing anyone really. 

He’s lost in thought and when there’s a commotion at the clinic door, he doesn’t notice it at first. But he hears a voice, one hasn’t heard in ages. “Piotr?” he asks quietly, looking at the door that still separated the clinic from his office. It couldn’t be, he was losing his mind. Searching for ghosts. But someone was still hurt, why else would anyone just barge into the clinic? He stands up quickly, hurrying to open the door. What he sees nearly stops his heart. “Piotr,” he says, sure of himself now but also with wonder in his voice because it wasn’t just Colossus. 

As soon as it happens, the Professor cannot feel Bobby anymore. Kitty is screaming and Hank is already reaching out to him. Whatever it was, it happened so quickly and the Professor knew it couldn’t be good. “I’m on the way, tell me what happened when I get there. I need to find Scott.”

Scott was outside the door when he heard her, his heart sank immediately and he tried to shove his way through the door. Of course it was locked. He banged on the door, “Hank! Let me in!” That’s when he saw the Professor rounding the corner and he ran over, “What happened! I heard Kitty screaming, Professor!”

Bombarded by Scott, the Professor hates to do this because he can see the stream of tears just visible below Scott’s glasses. “Scott, find Kitty. She phased through the floor. I need to talk to Hank.” And before Scott can argue, the Professor moves past him in his chair and waits outside the door without knocking. Charles wants Scott to go away first, which eventually he does.

“Hank, he’s gone. What happened?”

@beastxly

Hank runs it over and over in his head. What did he miss? What could he possibly have fucking missed? He rubs the back of his head hard, gripping the hair there and yanking it as he tries to steady his breath. Kitty had sunk through the floor despite his attempt to catch her and he should be worried about that, only he can’t stop staring at the slab. A slab covered in ice, and so was the floor surrounding it. Suddenly this room didn’t look like a clinic at all, it looked like a morgue.

He doesn’t mean to, but Charles sighs. Hank knew how to reach out to Talia, he just wouldn’t it seemed. “Hank, if you don’t want to lose her then you need to reach out. Stop pushing her away. It’s obvious the woman loves you, but you’re right. If you don’t say something how long will she stay by your side?”

Maybe that was harsh, Charles frowns at his crumbling friend, feeling all of the pain beneath his skin. They both mourned the loss of Jean, almost as if she were dead, but Talia was a different pain. One that Hank could change, but it seemed like he would rather push her away and wallow instead. “At least… think about it. She is good for you, if you love her, too.” He knows Hank does, but maybe he needed to be reminded.

Hank probably deserved the tongue lashing. It’s not like Talia was like Raven, constantly in flight and difficult to pin down. In fact, she’d made this entire relationship easy. Maybe too easy. He’d always been stupidly critical of himself, believing he didn’t deserve the love she’d chosen to give him especially, and yet she never found fault in a single thing he did. She was always a safe place to lay his head at night. She always had affection spilling out for him, like she couldn’t contain it, and he’d never had that before. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t accept it. It was too easy.

“Of course I love her,” he says hoarsely. “She’s the best thing that’s happened to me since...” Since Charles decided this could be Jean’s home. Since their girl filled these halls with her childlike sunshine and neither of them were lonely again. Until she left and it felt like there were shadows lurking in every corner. Ready to invade them, ready to swallow them whole and erase any of that sunshine they may have absorbed over the years. “It’s like there’s a hole,” there’s a lump in his throat as he gestures to his chest. He’s a scientific man, he’s a doctor. He looked at things like they were facts and figures, but not her. Never her. “He stole her, he just... And now she’s out there, and when he abandons her. Which he will, Charles, he will. Who’s going to be there to put her back on her feet?” His eyes are wet and warm when he gazes into Charles’, knowing no one could feel what they’re feeling except maybe Scott. “How can I sit here and be loved when I know she’s headed towards that?”

It hurts to see his friend in pain, Hank took care of everyone nearly all the time. Not just because he’s a doctor, but because he would always be a good man. Sometimes though, as Charles knew, being a good man eventually weighed heavily on one’s soul and tore down personal relationships. Erasing Moira’s memories had been Charles’s mistake that he’d live with, he didn’t want Hank to have to cut Talia off in a similar fashion.

Still, Charles is at a loss for words. There’d be no advice he trusted himself to give on the subject. Charles had two loves now, and those two understood all the flaws he had. They understood how to handle him. He rubs his chin for a moment, then speaks, “She is still here though, here for you isn’t she?” It’s not exactly a question. Charles can see it, he just wants to know if Hank does.

Hank knows what he’s suggesting, or trying to indicate. That he still had a chance, that he hadn’t lost her yet. But how much longer would that last? How long until she discovered this would never end? He would always feel responsible for everyone’s pain. He’d always take it much harder than he ought to. And sometimes, though he implored others to be more open, it’d feel impossible for him to do so himself. He still didn’t feel worthy of her, the beautiful nurse that exuded so much sunshine that she made everything she touched bloom. Even him. 

“Yeah,” he says tightly, hands fidgeting in his lap. He looks at them, even in this disguise they looked large and animalistic. He couldn’t always hide the Beast within him and everytime he remembered that, he felt he deserved her less. “But for how long, Charles?”

The night he told Alex to make a choice, even if it meant choosing to be with Jean, he’d made a mistake. Never had he felt more vindicated in keeping Jean and Alex apart than when she had attempted to take Charles’ life. He loved Alex, he would die for his best friend, but he was never fully here nor there. He wasn’t ready for the type of commitment someone like Jean needs and he never would be. Hank knew when they first met that it could only end badly, no matter the nature of their relationship. That Jean would get attached, the way she did, and that Alex would run from it, in any way he could. And now it just felt like waiting for the world to finish collapsing. Every day he waited for Jean to return home, with a broken heart for Hank to put back together. 

And in his waiting, he enabled himself to make more mistakes. Overlook others who needed his attention and care. His love. She was always so bright, sunshine embodied in a person. He was snuffing it, that light. Smothering it with his neglect and his outbursts and his lack of affection. He owed her much more, and he was lucky she hadn’t figured that out yet. Or maybe she had, and she just didn’t want to give up. 

Sitting on the edge of their bed, he looks up when she opens the door after another dreadfully long day. Usually he’d still be in his office, only to return long after she’d fallen asleep, but he left early today. He’d been waiting here for nearly two hours now, just waiting to look at her beautiful face and feel the calm she always provided just with her presence. When their eyes meet the words follow suit. “I owe you an apology,” he says quietly, but firmly so she doesn’t try to argue. “I owe you so much and I am so sorry that I haven’t been here.”