Log [Hank, Charles] Back home we go...
Nov. 8th, 2004 10:50 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsCharles, Hank. The return of the prodigal blue-furred scientist.
"Mommy, look what the cat dragged... in... wait. That's so not a cat."
I often wonder how sorely Hippocrates' own moral rectitude would have been tested, had he shared a world with Magneto.
Hank paid the cabbie, waited for him to drive off, then flicked off his image inducer as he broke into a heavy, tired trot up the drive. He scratched idly at one of the patchy places on his right arm, muttering imprecations under his breath at everything that had made it necessary for him to spend the past several weeks inside an inhibitor field, and pushed the front door open with one broad hand. A shower, a change of clothes, a lab coat to cover the worst of the mange, and a capacious mug of coffee, and he would be, if not at the peak of his usual felicitous cheer, at least alert enough to stand his share of his criminally neglected duties. Sleep, at the moment, was a luxury he preferred to reserve as a homecoming gift for his overworked colleagues rather than indulge in for himself.
He wasn't more than a few steps into the lobby before he noticed Charles waiting for him, the door to the waiting room open next to him in the hallway. "Henry," a welcoming if quick nod, along with a hand gesture towards the waiting room. "A moment to brief you further." The pinched, tired look about the Professor was hard to miss, although determination and resolve easily outweighed it. "I know you received the information download while en route, but there are things of a more delicate nature for you to... hear about." He paused, eyes narrowing - there was something else he might offer to do, judging from Hank's bedraggled condition.
"Professor." Hank blinked once, then nodded. "Yes, of course; anything you can tell me would be most welcome. Please accept my most sincere apologies for my absence these past several weeks; I'm afraid it was unavoidable." He managed a smile. "The CDC very seldom calls without excellent reason."
Charles wheeled his chair into the small room, the servings for either tea or coffee already set up for both of them on a small table near a large armchair. "So I gathered from when Scott found that interesting tidbit of information you left floating around - we didn't think to look in that particular dropbox first, I'm afraid." Sighing, Charles shook his head. "And I was too busy myself trying to keep Alison... intact, to seek you out myself using Cerebro."
Hank tossed down his first cup of coffee without tasting it. "Yes, well . . . in the event, I think it unlikely I would have been able, in good conscience, to leave before that particular matter was settled satisfactorily--not even, much though it pains me to admit, for Alison's sake. They had no one else available with the requisite skills." He shook his head wearily. "Why anyone would think it a testable theory under those conditions--what responsible scientist, what moral human would ever think to combine the X-factor gene complex with one of the most pernicious, ubiquitous viruses known to medicine . . ." He chuckled, a raw sound. "Well, at least that question answers itself; he was quite irresponsible. And is quite dead, and I cannot find it in me to mourn."
"Five deaths in a small town. All of the deceased mutants. We found the information, once we knew where you were." Staring down into his tea for a moment (coffee had become a bad idea a while ago), Charles focused back on the present. "As you know, we've an emergency of our own right now. I've collated all the date pertinent for you - the usual method to impart to you, I gather, will be more than acceptable?"
"Please." Hank was taking his time with the second cup of coffee--a rather excellent blend, he noted without surprise. "Although have mercy on a tired and jet-lagged brain, if you would."
"As always, Henry." It wasn't the first time this sort of thing happened - sad as it was to admit. Settling back in his chair, it took but a moment for Charles to reach the right mindset, information soon gently being transferred to Hank in a steady flow. At the same time Charles inlaid another pattern in the information transfers, one meant to help Hank remain steady and clear of thought for as long as he deemed it necessary - and for as long as it was without great danger to him as well.
Hank absorbed the download without comment, brow slightly furrowed, then vented a slow sigh. "'First, do no harm,'" he quoted dryly. "I often wonder how sorely Hippocrates' own moral rectitude would have been tested, had he shared a world with Magneto. I'll want to speak with Moira, Madelyn, and young Master Forge as soon as possible, I think." In tones of grateful--and almost jovial--reproof, he added "There was rather more than just the raw data in that transfer, I suspect."
"I will be keeping a very close eye on you in the next days, Henry, to ensure you don't tired yourself out overmuch - but things should be easier for you, yes." The ghost of a smile hovered over Charles' face at that, and he sampled the tea pensively. "I shouldn't keep you any longer," he murmured, recognizing only too well the slight signs of Hank's impatience to get down there and do something.
"I shan't abuse the privilege. So long as I have enough time to spell Moira and Madelyn at the watch--and," he admitted with a rueful grin, "perhaps a trifle longer to advance whatever theories of my own I may develop, I will accept whatever consequences may befall with an easy heart--always assuming, of course, that my lovely colleagues don't simply string me up for abandoning them so thoroughly." He left his chair with something approximating his usual bounce. "If you'll excuse me, then, I believe I have a patient waiting."
"Mommy, look what the cat dragged... in... wait. That's so not a cat."
I often wonder how sorely Hippocrates' own moral rectitude would have been tested, had he shared a world with Magneto.
Hank paid the cabbie, waited for him to drive off, then flicked off his image inducer as he broke into a heavy, tired trot up the drive. He scratched idly at one of the patchy places on his right arm, muttering imprecations under his breath at everything that had made it necessary for him to spend the past several weeks inside an inhibitor field, and pushed the front door open with one broad hand. A shower, a change of clothes, a lab coat to cover the worst of the mange, and a capacious mug of coffee, and he would be, if not at the peak of his usual felicitous cheer, at least alert enough to stand his share of his criminally neglected duties. Sleep, at the moment, was a luxury he preferred to reserve as a homecoming gift for his overworked colleagues rather than indulge in for himself.
He wasn't more than a few steps into the lobby before he noticed Charles waiting for him, the door to the waiting room open next to him in the hallway. "Henry," a welcoming if quick nod, along with a hand gesture towards the waiting room. "A moment to brief you further." The pinched, tired look about the Professor was hard to miss, although determination and resolve easily outweighed it. "I know you received the information download while en route, but there are things of a more delicate nature for you to... hear about." He paused, eyes narrowing - there was something else he might offer to do, judging from Hank's bedraggled condition.
"Professor." Hank blinked once, then nodded. "Yes, of course; anything you can tell me would be most welcome. Please accept my most sincere apologies for my absence these past several weeks; I'm afraid it was unavoidable." He managed a smile. "The CDC very seldom calls without excellent reason."
Charles wheeled his chair into the small room, the servings for either tea or coffee already set up for both of them on a small table near a large armchair. "So I gathered from when Scott found that interesting tidbit of information you left floating around - we didn't think to look in that particular dropbox first, I'm afraid." Sighing, Charles shook his head. "And I was too busy myself trying to keep Alison... intact, to seek you out myself using Cerebro."
Hank tossed down his first cup of coffee without tasting it. "Yes, well . . . in the event, I think it unlikely I would have been able, in good conscience, to leave before that particular matter was settled satisfactorily--not even, much though it pains me to admit, for Alison's sake. They had no one else available with the requisite skills." He shook his head wearily. "Why anyone would think it a testable theory under those conditions--what responsible scientist, what moral human would ever think to combine the X-factor gene complex with one of the most pernicious, ubiquitous viruses known to medicine . . ." He chuckled, a raw sound. "Well, at least that question answers itself; he was quite irresponsible. And is quite dead, and I cannot find it in me to mourn."
"Five deaths in a small town. All of the deceased mutants. We found the information, once we knew where you were." Staring down into his tea for a moment (coffee had become a bad idea a while ago), Charles focused back on the present. "As you know, we've an emergency of our own right now. I've collated all the date pertinent for you - the usual method to impart to you, I gather, will be more than acceptable?"
"Please." Hank was taking his time with the second cup of coffee--a rather excellent blend, he noted without surprise. "Although have mercy on a tired and jet-lagged brain, if you would."
"As always, Henry." It wasn't the first time this sort of thing happened - sad as it was to admit. Settling back in his chair, it took but a moment for Charles to reach the right mindset, information soon gently being transferred to Hank in a steady flow. At the same time Charles inlaid another pattern in the information transfers, one meant to help Hank remain steady and clear of thought for as long as he deemed it necessary - and for as long as it was without great danger to him as well.
Hank absorbed the download without comment, brow slightly furrowed, then vented a slow sigh. "'First, do no harm,'" he quoted dryly. "I often wonder how sorely Hippocrates' own moral rectitude would have been tested, had he shared a world with Magneto. I'll want to speak with Moira, Madelyn, and young Master Forge as soon as possible, I think." In tones of grateful--and almost jovial--reproof, he added "There was rather more than just the raw data in that transfer, I suspect."
"I will be keeping a very close eye on you in the next days, Henry, to ensure you don't tired yourself out overmuch - but things should be easier for you, yes." The ghost of a smile hovered over Charles' face at that, and he sampled the tea pensively. "I shouldn't keep you any longer," he murmured, recognizing only too well the slight signs of Hank's impatience to get down there and do something.
"I shan't abuse the privilege. So long as I have enough time to spell Moira and Madelyn at the watch--and," he admitted with a rueful grin, "perhaps a trifle longer to advance whatever theories of my own I may develop, I will accept whatever consequences may befall with an easy heart--always assuming, of course, that my lovely colleagues don't simply string me up for abandoning them so thoroughly." He left his chair with something approximating his usual bounce. "If you'll excuse me, then, I believe I have a patient waiting."
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