Unspoken: Reality Check

Reality Check
by Khaki

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Things take a not-so-great turn.

Timeline: After A Little Gossip, takes place during Silk and Steel and Square Pegs and Round Holes, On the Merits of Chicken, and Indian Summer. The majority occurs right after Jengrrl's new installment.

Author's Notes: Ok, this fic is Vic's fault for making me contribute, jenn's fault for saying the concept was ok, and an audit client's fault for transforming all of my sweet, foofy plot bunnies into evil, angst-mongers with a few choice words. Me? I'm just an innocent by-stander.

Date: October 4, 2001

Hank searched for Rogue the morning after his rather late and confusing visit with Bobby, but she was nowhere to be found. In fact, except for the occasional brief sighting, all of the mansion's adults appeared to be missing.

After checking her and Scott's room, the roof, Ororo's arboretum, the boat house, everywhere he could think Marie might be, he abandoned the search and walked to Professor Xavier's office to share his experiences in Switzerland. The sound of voices drifting from the office stopped him. Scott and the professor were talking and from the few words he'd gleaned, it was a private discussion.

Hank left them to their conversation, but before he was completely out of earshot, he heard a distinct bark of laughter. It sounded like Scott, but that seemed anathema to the serious tones he'd heard mere seconds before. Shrugging Hank resumed his trek to the kitchen for breakfast.

"Hankmeister!"

"Good morning, Jubilee, Kitty."

"So...?" Jubilee said, drawing the word out into a sentence.

"Yes, Jubilee?" Hank asked.

"Who're you betting on?" When he didn't immediately answer, Jubilee sighed. "Bobby said he'd fill you in."

"Robert and I did have a particularly perplexing conversation last night."

"And?"

"And, I am reserving judgement until I have at least spoken with the parties involved. Speaking of which, have either of you seen Marie?"

"Not yet."

"Sorry, dude."

Acquiring his traditional breakfast, Hank excused himself and retired to his lab to review his Switzerland notes and to muse on the apparent only topic of conversation in the mansion.

Of all the adults, he'd always felt closest to Marie. From her arrival, their relationship had quickly developed a comfortable older brother/younger sister dynamic that he encouraged at every opportunity. He couldn't help but feel somewhat remiss in his duties, leaving Marie to deal with such tumultuous occurrences without his support. He could only hope that he might be able to somehow help when next he crossed her path.

As it happened, he didn't see Marie until the next night, and then there was no time for polite conversation.

Hank had been enjoying a brisk walk that unusually warm night when the silence was broken with screams. He was so far away, he couldn't make out any words, but he knew that voice. It was Marie, and she was shrieking in utter panic.

Running towards the lake and Marie's yelling, the words became clearer.

"Logan!" Splashes... gurgling... "No!" More splashing. "Help!"

"Marie?!"

"Hank? Hank!" Marie shouted from the water, a few feet from the dock. "Help me! I can't... he's dying. I... I... just brushed against him... just a second and he... Help me! He's drowning!"

Running down the length of the dock, Hank dove into the water without hesitation. After breaking the surface, he asked, "Where is he? Where should I be looking?"

Marie quickly swam out of arm's reach from him, replying, "Right there... He's... Oh please, Hank, you've got to help him... He's dying! He's dying!"

Hank submerged again and again, searching the depths of the lake by feel alone in the darkness of the night. Each time he resurfaced without success, he was greeted with more and more frantic cries from Marie.

The last time he'd risen, though, she was silent, instead focusing her energies on covering her nude body with the oversized clothes piled on the dock. As soon as she was covered, she rejoined him in the water and they spread out their search.

Hank didn't know how long it'd been before his hand brushed against an unresponsive limb lying on the silt bottom. Grasping it tightly, he swam to the surface.

"I've got him."

What he had, in fact, was a leg. Taking a moment to reposition the body in his grasp, he soon brought the man's lolling head above the water.

"Logan?"

"I don't know." Hank answered her unasked question, holding the unconscious man in one arm while swimming in broad strokes towards the dock with the other.

Upon reaching it, he climbed the ladder and laid the body out on the wooden planks. Hank hadn't been a practicing physician for a while, but that didn't stop him from taking immediate action.

The patient, Logan, had the all the classic symptoms of drowning: abdominal distension, bluish skin, unconsciousness. and no breathing. Hank performed a variation on the traditional Heimlich maneuver, trying to clear the man's lungs of as much water as possible, then he began artificial respiration.

He checked, but found no pulse, so he began CPR. At least, he tried to begin CPR. The man's ribs refused to bend; his chest refused to compress.

"That won't work. He... his skeleton's covered in metal," Marie provided.

Without a pulse, Logan was as good as dead, and Hank could do nothing more to save him at the lakeside. He pulled the man's unclothed body into a fireman's carry and started running towards the mansion.

Marie kept up with him, despite the clumsiness of Logan's drenched clothes hanging loosely on her smaller frame.

Hank ran into the mansion, past Professor Xavier, past Bobby, Jubilee, and a gaggle of other students, into the emergency staircase, and down to the Med Lab.

"Moira?" he called, not waiting for an answer before summoning a bed from the floor and lying the unresponsive man down.

"Och. Hank, what happened?"

"Near drowning. No breathing, no pulse. Patient has a metal skeleton so CPR's impossible."

"Logan." Moira MacTaggert said in acknowledgement. "Attach the heart monitor, I'll get the paddles."

"Moira, Hank, you've gotta save him. Please."

Moira turned and shook her head. "Rogue, you cannae be in here. Wait outside."

"But, Logan..."

"We dinnae have the time for this. Let us concentrate on helping Logan. Please."

Moira hurried Rogue out of the door and locked it behind her before returning to help Hank.

The heart monitor's read out was flat, the tone steady and ominous.

"He's in asystole. No cardiac activity," Hank informed her.

"Charging ta 200."

"IV in."

"Clear."

"... No change."

"Charging to 250."

"10 cc's epinephrine on board."

"Clear."

"... Nothing."

"Charging to 300."

"That's too high. You'll damage his heart."

"I cannae make him more dead than he already is. Clear."

"... No response."

"That's it." Moira said, returning the paddles to the machine. "This is nae working."

She hurried to the drawers in the far wall, withdrew a large hypodermic with a three-inch long needle, and returned to Logan's bedside.

"Epinephrine," she said, reaching out her hand for the medication Hank held.

After filling the syringe with a dosage so large that Hank gasped, she palpated Logan's chest, feeling for the space between the ribs, and plunged the needle into his heart.

Driving the plunger home, she administered the full dose with immediate results. The flatline on the heart monitor spiked, and Logan took a deep, gasping breath. Coughing followed as his lungs cleared themselves of lake water, expunging pink, frothy sputum. After a few irregular spikes, his heart rate settled into a normal sinus rhythm.

It had been close, but Logan had pulled back from the brink of death. With his healing abilities, it would take several hours, but he would recover completely.

~*~

The Bargain by Victoria P.

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Disclaimer: All X-Men characters belong to Marvel and Fox; this piece of fan-written fiction intends no infringement on any copyrights.