Post-XM Last Stand

[no_more_hiding]

Hank was tired and wanted to do nothing but fall down to sleep for days but with the call he had received right before the battle at Alcatraz, he knew sleep would be along time in coming. Two connecting flights and three hours of driving in a cramped rental car and here he was at the office of one Daniel Guthrie, sheriff of Lakeside county. A county barely large enough to need a sheriff and yet holding in his cells one very important prisoner. If the sheriff was right. The sheriff was thanking him for his prompt arrival and outlining how he had found the prisoner and how long it had taken him to reach Hank when he saw her. She was laying down and looking so lost to the world, he couldn't help saying, "Oh my stars and garters."

His voice was touched with such sadness, Sheriff Guthrie didn't even have to confirm his guess had been right. Raven Darkholme was in fact his prisoner though why she was looking human and still herself (with pink skin and blond hair) was beyond the sheriff. "I'll release her into your custody. Ms. Jane Doe here," Sheriff Guthrie said with emphasize on the name, "has been very cooperative."

"Sheriff, if I may inquire, why are you doing this?"

"Well sir, my son was a mutant and 'cause of you, he was proud of himself."

"'Was'? I'm sorry."

"He was lynched and murder two years ago when he went away to college. And that's the other reason I'm doing this," the Sheriff replies with a nod toward "Jane". "After what I saw in the news, I ain't too sure she'd get a fair trial, if she even made it to trail and that ain't right. I can't just let her go but I can give her to you."

"Passing on the problem?" Hank replied with a hint of a levity he did not feel.

"True hallmark of a great government. I'll leave you two to catch up. Knock on the door when yer ready to sign her out."

Comments

[andproud]

"You're lying."

The response is flat, uttered tonelessly and emotionlessly as she looks at him, but he wouldn't be brought on to tears in front of her all from some act. She knows him well enough to know that he's never been able to mask his emotions like that. Not the same way she can.

"You're lying," she says again, more insistent, and rises from the bed to come near. "That's not true, I - you're lying." Her voice rises in pitch, in volume, and trembles.

[no_more_hiding]

That could have been better thought out he thinks berating himself. He doesn't pull back from the bars but does say, "I am sorry. As far as I know it's true. I've never lied." After a pause he adds, "To you." And it's true, one of the few things in his life he has never backed away from. He has always told her the truth just like she has always turned things to her advantage, the old dance they began after Cuba.

"It is a field report, however, and those can be inconclusive. Either way, I am here on my own and I am here to help."

[andproud]

She averts her gaze, turning away so he doesn't see the way her vision threatens to blur with tears, and when she lifts her head again, her eyes are clear, her jaw set firmly. Defiant. Still trying to be proud, in spite of everything.

"Why?" she asks, the question perfectly legitimate. She's never given him any reason to want to help her in all the time that's passed between them.

[no_more_hiding]

"Why indeed," Hank muses to buy time to give a coherent answer. It's a far question but one with so many answers. "Because this is not who you are. Because happened was wrong. Because it could happen again. Because it is right. Because this is everything I've spent my life fighting against." As he speaks his voice gains momentum until at the end his outrage is clear.

"Because I...respect you too much to see you like this," he whispers then. "This...treatment is abhorrent and I will find a cure. It would be much easier with your help but I will do it without if need be."

[andproud]

Just hearing the phrase (the treatment) makes her feel sick, reminds her of her own helplessness. It still feels like every cell in her body is trapped in its own individual cage, pleading for release. Her shoulders sag visibly, but she approaches the bars close enough to speak in barely above a whisper.

"If I say no, you'll leave me in here?" she asks, curling fingers around one of the bars.

[no_more_hiding]

And here it is, another moment of truth.

"No. I will still sign the paper releasing you and you can walk. As far as I am concerned Mystique is dead. For now. I will not black mail you for your assistance." He doesn't say anything about how she likely won't find anyone else who can cure her even if they were willing, nor that she would be choosing to be human for the rest of her life. She is far to cunning to need such pointed out to her.

[andproud]

It goes without saying that he's her best chance of finding a cure for this, of figuring out a way to go back to who she was before she took the bullet for Erik - and he's not coming for her, and the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach is more than enough proof that something's happened to Charles.

She looks down, as if to consider, and then meets his gaze.

"Fine."

Just because she's agreeing now doesn't mean she'll stick around later - but then again, he knows as much.

[no_more_hiding]

That he does and all too well. Of course that has been his secret to their relationship. If you have no expectations, then you are not likely to be disappointed.

"Let's get you out of her then," He replies, walking over to knock on the door to the sheriff's office. The paper work is filed out and ready, all Hank needs to do is sign which he does straight away. And since "Jane Doe" didn't have any possessions, they are outside in the late evening in short order.

Hank gestures to an orange Le Car with an embarrassed shrug and grimace. "Our chariot."

[andproud]

She's still wearing the borrowed clothes that are one or two sizes too big, the shirt loose enough to slip down one shoulder as she stands out in the parking lot, idly running a hand over her arm.

"Should've known," she replies, giving him a look that conveys an inkling of amusement, but only briefly. In fact, there's no evidence it was even there at all when she moves to stand by the car, waiting for the doors to be unlocked.

[no_more_hiding]

"This is not by choice," Hank says, holding up his hands in surrender as he steps forward to unlock her door and hold it open for her. "It was the only car available at the rental agency."

Hank actually suspects he was the victim of mutant harassment...no, he knows he was the victim but time was of the essence so he didn't push that matter. However, Bob's Rentals may be getting a visit from the IRS soon.

[andproud]

She gets into the car in a manner that could in no way be described as enthusiastic, slowly folding her arms across her chest as she makes herself comfortable in the passenger seat.

Between him and the car, there's no way they're going to avoid attracting attention now. She glances out the window at the scenery around them. "What, you decided not to pop over in the Blackbird?" she mutters.

[no_more_hiding]

As she settles herself he walks around the car. Towards the back he pretends to drop the keys to give himself a moment for strength. He didn't think it would be this hard, seeing her again after all these years, her bitterness and, worse yet, her crippled state. Keys retrieved, he opens the drivers door and sits.

"Discretion as well a timeliness was the order of the day," he says to her question. He starts the car and backs out. "Plus the 'Bird was being used for evacuation of the injured when I left Alcatraz. Do you want food or real clothing first?"

[andproud]

She keeps her arms crossed, her body the picture of a physical shield, keeping her gaze averted out the window as he gets in beside her and starts the car, the engine turning over with only a small amount of effort. She won't be amazed if they get to where they're headed in one piece, but that all depends on how long the drive will take.

In answer to his question, she shrugs.

"Where are we supposed to be going after all that?"

[no_more_hiding]

"We have a three hour drive to return this car to the rental agency but ultimately, I have a cabin in Ontario," Hank replies as they drive through a town which is obviously shutting down for the night. "Perhaps we shall have see what is open to determine which comes first."

He honestly isn't sure which would provide more comfort for Raven or if comfort is possible at this point.

[andproud]

At this point, there's nowhere else for her to go, no place for her to be other than right here, in this car next to him, curling up in the front seat in a pair of clothes that smell musty and hang off her frame.

"Taking me to a cabin in the middle of the woods, Beast?" she replies, her voice faint despite its sarcasm. "I'd be worried if I thought for a second your intentions were less than honorable."

[no_more_hiding]

His nose twitches at the scent of the clothes and he stifles a sneeze. Perhaps clothing first.

"I believe, given your reputation, that I should be the one to worry. It would be the perfect crime, no witnesses." His voice is calm and teasing, hoping for a hint of their old banter despite himself. "To be fair, it is a cabin in name only. There is a lab as well as other amenities."

[andproud]

"Yeah, but you'd be a bitch to dispose of afterwards," she replies, lips twisting into a wry smile before she clears her throat and her expression neutralizes.

"Well, I'll give you this: at least you don't play to their stereotypes." The words are a half-whisper mumbled against her knee, but she knows he can hear her.

[no_more_hiding]

"I have made it part of my life's work to disprove stereotypes and prejudices," Hank replies not bothering to hide the pride in his voice. He spots a dinner that is still open when they reach the interstate and pulls in. "It would appear food is first. I believe you have no dietary restrictions? We should eat on the road to save time but do you wish to stay in the car or come with me?"

He's guessing she doesn't want to be around humans.

[andproud]

"I'll go," she softly says, after a beat. After giving it some thought, she's realizing she doesn't want to stay out here alone.

He might draw enough attention on his own that no one will even notice her, and so she gets out of the car slowly, making herself smaller by hunching her shoulders slightly and letting her blonde hair down. She's a little less conspicuous between the two of them.

[no_more_hiding]

Hank follows, watching her and her body language is like a knife in his heart. He has never seen her hunch her shoulders before, not even back in the CIA. It may be a ruse, calculated to gain sympathy from him or put him off his guard but he doesn't care. He removes his jacket and lays it on her shoulders, using the excuse to rest his arm upon them.

It's up to her if he leaves it there.

[andproud]

She curls her shoulders underneath the fabric of the coat, feeling as though she almost shrinks even more beneath something that is too big for her still. She glances up at him over the oversized collar, looking as though she wants to say something before she goes silent again, looking straight ahead.

"Let's make this quick," she says, pulling away to head inside.

[no_more_hiding]

"Of course," He says his voice a little thicker than normal. Once inside a waitress greets them with a friendly grin that broadens to a smile and not a hint of reservation at serving an obvious mutant. "Table or counter?"

"Actually we'd like to order to go if that's alright?"

"Of course it is," she replies handing them two menus. "I'll be right back for your order."

[andproud]

She keeps her gaze down on the menu, looking over the options quickly, and then makes a decision without really taking that long to dwell on it, closing the menu back up and setting it down on the formica counter.

Then she crosses her arms beneath the oversized coat on her shoulders, her eyes shifting up to his face as he reads behind those glasses of his. Even though there are still so many things that remain uncertain, he always looks the same when he reads, that quiet thoughtful look that draws her to him, makes her want to slowly pull those glasses off and -

No.

She quickly glances away, folding her arms a little tighter.

[no_more_hiding]

True facts, Hank has thought of getting lasek but his glasses have become such a part of him that he can't bring himself to do it. He also is completely oblivious to Raven's attentions as the first sandwich he spotted was a roast beef and he's never been able to eat one without thinking of her and now her she was yet again. He's also having trouble keeping her scent out of the forefront of his attention.

The waitress returns with a smile and a camera. "I know this is totally rude and I do apologize but could I get your picture for our wall?" She asks gesturing to a wall with photos of many famous people. "See anytime we're lucky enough to have famous folks come through here we like to document it."

Hank looks at Raven out of the corner of his eye before demurring. "I'm terribly sorry but I've been on the road for hours and haven't slept in days. For vanity's sake, may I send you a signed picture later?"

"Of course, I understand. Are you ready to order?"

"Yes, I'll take the roast beef sandwich please."

[andproud]

There's no reason for anyone to suspect that she is who she is, and the farther they head in the opposite direction, away from everyone else, the less she starts to feel like Mystique. She tucks a piece of blonde hair behind her ear and averts her gaze subtly when the waitress returns. No one will be asking to take her photo any time soon.

"I'll just take the burger. Well-done. And, uh, with fries is fine," she adds, keeping her voice low.

The waitress disappears once again, their orders written down on the pad in her hand, and she swivels back towards him, standing at his side.

"How does it feel to be a celebrity, Dr. McCoy?" she asks, a small amount of sarcasm in her voice.