Terri's Peep Hut ~~ Fiction Archive

Comments: Hank got a little jilted here because he's not the only one who gets to talk to Scott - the story just kind of went that way. But he still got a starring role ;) I hope that makes up for the lack of a Hank-centric vote option this time around, but I'm stocking up on the twinkies just in case.............

The knock came at the crack of dawn, also known as 6:15 a.m. Hank was the only one well awake at that hour, and he had a good guess at who the early morning interlopers might be. Bracing himself and easing a snub-nosed .38 into his lab coat pocket, he made for the door.

He didn't arrive before a second flurry of knocks had guaranteed that at least some of the other mansion inhabitants were awakened. As he reached the door, he debated briefly whether to get word to Logan. Let them sleep, Hank decided. Maybe this can all be handled civilly. And maybe there's a better chance of that without Logan's involvement.

"And may I inquire as to why you are looking for your friend?" Hank kept an amiable expression on his face, but his body tensed as he heard a small noise behind him. He didn't want to take his eyes off the x-men in front of him, so he could only hope it wasn't Logan or Marie.

"She is doing well," Hank offered tersely, beginning to be a little annoyed at this point, "but she does not wish to see you, and I am not inclined to disagree. I do not think it would be at all beneficial for her to have any contact with you. Now, please - "

"I am, exactly, her treating physician. And I daresay that she is more satisfied with my services than those of her previous doctor. I am also her friend, who cares very much for her and does not wish to see her upset. Your presence would most certainly achieve that, and only that, I might add." Hank felt a large, strong hand at his back. He knew without turning around that it was Logan.

"Not until we see Rogue." That insistence came, surprisingly, from Storm. It was so startling that Scott forgot his ire momentarily and simply stared at her. "You removed her from the mansion and have kept her concealed from us for too long, Logan. We care for her too. We want to know what is going on." Storm crossed both arms over her chest to emphasize her resolve.

"Not gonna happen. You saw how she was at the bar when you came in. You scare the livin' shit outta her, not to mention every time I lay eyes on ya, I'm sorely tempted to start hackin' parts off. You ain't gettin' anywhere near her." She'd woken to the sound of the knocks, as had Logan, and, though he tried to calm her and had left one of the kids with rather formidable powers, Zach, guarding their bedroom door, he still caught her making for the closet to find a hiding place as he left.

"We demand to know what's going on." Scott took a step toward Hank and Logan, crossing the threshold. "And you know we'll find out one way or another." Logan let out a low growl and was preparing to say something that Hank was sure would only escalate things. Hank decided to take matters into his own hands before Logan could respond.

"There are some pertinent facts I wish to enlighten you on regarding the treatment path you chose for..............Rogue." Hank was unaccustomed to calling her by that name, but Logan had instructed him not to use her real name. "There is a small diner in town. I would be happy to meet with you and discuss these matters there. However, I cannot discuss anything pertaining specifically to Rogue's medical condition. That information is confidential."

Logan actually snorted at that, but Hank was the one to respond verbally. "I think not. If you do not wish to have the information, that is your business. However, if you do truly care about the children in your care, I would think you would be most interested to know why Rogue's treatment failed." Hank let the implication hang there for several long moments, resolved not to speak before Scott did.

"That's such a goddamn crock, and you know it. If you gave a shit about her, you woulda helped her, not fuckin' locked her up like an animal and drugged her up with poison. Fuck off, 'Ro." Logan slammed the door in her face, ending the conversation with finality.

After a brief confab with Hank, Logan headed back to the bedroom he shared with Rogue. He'd told Hank that 'Ro would probably stay behind, to make sure they didn't smuggle Marie out and away from them, and he'd been proven correct when both men watched her take to the skies as Scott got in the car alone. Several of the kids were charged with keeping an eye on her. Logan would guard Rogue while Hank spoke with Scott. Now, as Logan returned to their room, he wondered what might happen after that.

"Hey, kid. Thanks." Logan slapped Zach's shoulder. The boy had been still rigidly standing guard outside the door. Logan trusted the young man a great deal - he'd never failed Logan in a critical situation. Still, the kid had never seen battle, and Logan was glad he hadn't had to fight to protect Marie today.

"I - I think OK. I was talking to her through the door the whole time, you know, so she wouldn't be scared." Logan smiled his thanks at that, but Zach's expression turned suddenly dark. "If these people are why - why Miss Marie doesn't talk, I hope they rot in hell. If you need any help with them, I want you to know - you can count on me."

"Yeah," Logan sighed. None of the kids had really seen Marie at her worst. They all knew her as the sweet big sister/mom of the house, the one that never talked and was kind of skittish, but would give her all for any one of the kids. Logan wondered how they'd feel toward the x-men if they knew the whole story. He suspected that he wouldn't be the only one having dark fantasies of hacking off assorted x-men body parts. They were good kids, he thought, loyal kids. He knew how it felt to have someone who loved you, who took care of you, who was loyal to you suddenly dropped into your life - it felt a lot like some kind of minor miracle if all you've ever known is being kicked around. Marie was that person for mostly all of the kids, showering wordless affection and encouragement down on them every moment of the day. Logan knew well the strong sense of protectiveness that was created by that. "Thanks, kid."

Zach nodded and left, heading to the kitchen for some breakfast. Logan watched him go for a moment, then entered the bedroom he shared with Marie and locked the door behind him. She wasn't anywhere to be seen - the closet doors were shut. "It's me, darlin'. Everythin's OK."

Nothing. She did this sometimes when she felt threatened. She hid, and wouldn't respond, not even to Logan, at first. He knew she needed a little time to be sure it wasn't some trick or hallucination. "Are ya in the closet? 'Cause if ya are, I, ah, really did mean to clean it out like you asked and all, but things kinda got busy." Still nothing. Sometimes a joke worked, sometimes it didn't. Logan knew he had to just wait and keep talking until she was ready.

"It was Scooter and 'Ro at the door. Hank took Scooter inta town. I think he's gonna tell him what's what with the drugs so they don't do it to anybody else. I kinda didn't wanna say anythin' about anythin' to 'em, but Hank made some sense when he said he wouldn't wanna have anybody else get hurt like you did and I kinda think they're too stupid to figure it out by themselves. Hopefully, they'll leave us the hell alone then. 'Ro's flyin' overhead, she's stickin' around 'cause they don't wanna lose track of ya, but I doubt she'll pull any shit. Coupla the kids are watchin' her just in case. You can come out if you wanna, it's safe." Still nothing. He admired her hiding skills for a moment, chest swelling with pride a little at the fact that even he wouldn't have been able to detect her heartbeat or breathing if he hadn't known what to listen for, before remembering what had taught her those skills and how pathetically little use they'd been in her small, sparse cell.

"I was thinkin' that after they go, maybe you and me will get our heads together and plan to do somethin' nice for the kids. You know, the holidays and all are comin' up soon, and maybe we could have some kinda big dinner or maybe even a party for 'em. That might be nice." Logan thought he heard a small rustle from the closet, just the barest of sounds. Marie did this a lot too when she hid - she made a small, detectable noise just to see if anyone would pounce on her. Logan remained on the bed, but relaxed a little.

"I thought I'd just stick close to ya today. I know we got some wood that needs choppin' out back, and I know the truck needs an oil change, but it can wait. I thought it'd be better for you and me to just hang out in the house together today." Logan heard a larger rustle, and then the squeak of the closet door being opened. Marie hadn't come out, but Logan knew that was her invitation for him to come in. He walked slowly over to the closet, careful not to startle her, and he gently opened the door a little wider as he knelt down. It took him a moment to locate her - she'd hidden herself under a pile of clothes and blankets and had backed herself into the corner. Only her big brown eyes and eyebrows were visible - she'd wrapped herself up in a blanket and had strewn clothes atop herself for further camouflage. "Hey, beautiful. How're you doin'?"

Her eyes crinkled at the corners and Logan knew she must be smiling a little. "Marie, can I ask you somethin' about before?" He always asked before bringing up the past. Hank had suggested it, noting that it would make Marie feel more in control of those memories, would give her a way to feel less powerless. Marie thought about it for a few moments, then nodded. "Didya hide like this then? In the cell?" Marie nodded, then pulled the blanket around herself more tightly, wiggling into it as well. Logan realized that she was pantomiming how she'd hidden before.

"You were tryin' to hide from 'em when they came with the drugs, weren't ya?" Another nod. Logan mused on what he'd told her for a moment, and then a thought hit him out of the blue. He let out an abrupt, startled exhalation, and Marie looked at him questioningly. "Shit," he whispered, before noticing Marie's expression.

"Darlin', that's - that's why no talkin', right? That's why no talkin'. When you got to talkin', they gave ya the drugs to quiet ya down and then the bad dreams came. Is that right? When you talked before, it just gotcha the real bad dreams, didn't it?" Logan had directly asked her before why she didn't want to talk, but she always only lowered her head and frowned. Hank hadn't had any better luck, and neither wanted to push her to talk about it before she was ready. But this time, Marie slowly nodded, just once, and her eyes quickly filled with tears.

"Oh, baby, it's not gonna work like that any more. I promise. I - I - you can talk all you want, darlin', no one's gonna hurt ya. Nobody's gonna make you be quiet or give those bad dreams any more." Marie looked doubtful. Logan crawled a little further into the closet and drew her into his embrace - blankets, clothes, and all. "Oh, Marie, I'm so sorry I didn't figure it out before, darlin'. I shoulda realized. But - but it's OK now. It's OK, I promise. You can talk as much as you wanna, baby. Nobody's gonna hurt you if you do. You just talk whenever you want now, you don't hafta be quiet at all, OK?" He felt Marie's arms clutch at him tightly. "It's OK now, baby."

"So you expect me to believe that the drug Jean used had some sort of side effects that no one knows about and that's why Marie was so sick? I'm sorry, I don't buy it." Scott leaned back into his booth seat, and folded his arms over his chest.

"Buy it or don't, Mr. Summers, that is your prerogative," Hank was frankly quite irritated with the man by now. He'd explained the mutatol issues quite thoroughly, even disclosing his own involvement with the drug at Phillips Pharmaceuticals. Hank understood that the treating doctor, Jean, was this man's wife, but still. "I felt it my moral obligation to share the information with you. What you do with it is your own moral decision."

"Now, hold on right there, Mr. Summers. No one is making Rogue do anything in opposition to her own free will. She is perfectly capable of making her own choices." Hank was moving past irritated and coming up on angry. He didn't like being called a kidnapper.

"If nothing was wrong, you wouldn't be hiding her. I don't know what Logan's told you, but Rogue and I were friends, close friends. She's the closest thing I've ever had to a sister, in fact, and I'd be willing to be that Logan didn't say a thing about me until he ran into us the other day. Doesn't that tell you something?" Scott was animated now, leaning across the table and speaking loudly enough for half the diner to hear.

"I'll tell you what tells me something, Mr. Summers. The fact that you ignored Rogue's degeneration during the mutatol treatments. The fact that you persisted in that course of treatment despite your knowledge that, from the very beginning, it was intended to have only a palliative, not a restorative effect." Hank now leaned across the table as well, putting himself nearly nose-to-nose with Scott. "How about the fact that Rogue's obvious and marked improvement seems less important to you than your own anger? That tells me quite a bit. And let us not forget the fact that, no matter how close you claim to have been prior to her illness, she still never chose to tell you her real name. What do you suppose all that tells me, Mr. Summers?"

Hank sighed and leaned back, trying to regain his equilibrium a bit. "Yes. As much as you may want to believe that there is some black conspiracy afoot to somehow injure Rogue, all readily observable signs should indicate otherwise to you. Yet you continue to accuse me - and Logan - of having some malevolent design on her. I would advise you to consider that it is only your own bias and paranoia that leads you to believe such things."

"I'm hardly paranoid. Logan - he almost killed Rogue once. Stabbed her, right through the chest with his claws. You do know about his claws, don't you?" That drew an impatient huff from Hank. He knew all about the claws, and the stabbing incident, and was angered that this man was trying to use that incident to paint Logan in a poor light. "I don't care what he's acting like now, I know what he's really like." Scott finally sank back into his seat a little, seemingly satisfied that he'd made his point.

Hank raised an eyebrow, mentally calculating whether or not stooping to this man's level would be worth the minimal satisfaction that the jibe he was considering would deliver. After thinking it over, Hank decided to stoop a little. "Logan is not interested in sleeping with your wife. Get over it."

That produced a predictably slack-jawed and angry expression in Scott, but Hank jumped back in before he had a chance to respond. "Rogue is safe with us, happy. She is getting better. I think you have seen that for yourself. Forcing your presence upon her can only hurt her at this point. If you ever really did care for her as more than some pawn in your never-ending penis-waving contest with Logan, you would want what is best for her, even if it is the person you most despise and a situation to which you have not given your seal of approval. Are you really so morbidly egotistical or stupidly oblivious so as to persist in clinging to your own theories even when they are so vastly and so readily contradicted by the evidence at hand?" Hank actually wanted an honest answer to that question. As a scientist, he was driven by facts, results, proof. He had little patience for people who could not relinquish their own pet theories in the face of evidence to the contrary. To do so was, in Hank's opinion, to think yourself better informed than the laws of nature, and was the worst, most destructive kind of arrogance.

"Then I hope you like Canadian winters, Mr. Summers, because I have no intention of letting you anywhere near Rogue, and I believe that Logan and I can see to it that that is so." Without taking his eyes off of Scott, Hank put out a large, blue-furred hand to catch their passing waitress. "Check please."

"Sure thing, hon." Doris was Hank's favorite waitress and he, her favorite customer. He was always very polite and was very chatty. Doris liked chatty people - they were usually very good tippers. "Everything all right over here?" she asked, eyeing Scott suspiciously.

"I mean it," Scott said, in a quieter tone of voice. "I'm not going anywhere until I talk to Rogue." Hank said nothing in reply. He couldn't think of anything else to say that might have a chance of getting through to the man, and he wasn't one to engage in futile efforts. "She won't be afraid of me, I guarantee it." Hank thought he sounded very much like a man speaking to convince himself, not his listeners. "I - I don't know what happened back at that bar, but if I can just get her away from Logan for a minute and - "

"Mr. Summers, when you came to the door this morning, Rogue hid in the closet. She is likely still there. That is the reaction your presence produces." Hank doubted that those words would reach him either, but they came out almost involuntarily.

"I am sure you did," Hank offered. "But in her mind, she likely connects you with some very unpleasant experiences nonetheless. She is still recovering. If you choose to keep forcing a meeting with her, if we have to keep her under watch at all times and keep the house under guard, what do you suppose that would do to her progress? Do you not wish to see her return to normal, to health? Do you not wish to see her complete her recovery?"

"Of course I do, but - but a complete recovery - that's not possible. Jean said she'd never be the same, even if - even if she did get better." Hank noted that Summers seemed off-balance now, unsure for the first time since he'd rung the doorbell this morning. Maybe Hank was getting through more than he realized. He decided to say one last thing.

"What is possible is often limited most by our own preconceptions, Mr. Summers. That is a lesson that science has taught me over and over again. For Rogue, we have all desperately wished for and worked to achieve the 'impossible'. For her, there is nothing, literally nothing, any of us would not try. I suggest you bear that in mind, Mr. Summers." Hank left enough for the bill and a generous tip on the table, then left Scott to his thoughts.