|
Disclaimer. The X-Men and any recognizable characters
belong to
Marvel, Siku is darqstar's, anyone else is mine. Ask first if you want
to
borrow 'em. I'm not making any money off of this, so don't waste your
time,
or mine, suing OK? You wouldn't get anything anyway, I'm flat broke.
~words~ depicts psychic talk
*words* denotes thinking to oneself
Revelations:
Chapter 5
Cyclops' guard was still up as he
surveyed the scene around him. The battle was coming to an end. Thanks
to the quick reactions of the X-Men and the NYPD, no civilians, other
than Joshua Calvin, had been injured. After
firing his initial blast, which had knocked the gun from the FOH
member's hand, Cyclops had fired another blast to the man's chest just
strong enough to knock the man on the platform unconscious. Wolverine
had quickly subdued the man in the suit before he had the chance to turn
his gun on anyone. He had pinned the man to the ground, the claws on his
right hand extended and just barely touching the man's throat, waiting
for the man to give him an excuse to run them through the tender flesh.
Wisely, the suited man laid still and quiet, glaring at Wolverine with
an intense look of fear and hatred.
To Wolverine's left, Gambit
had control of the young black man. He held the frightened man's
sweatshirt in one hand, and a charged playing card in the other. He held
the card dangerously close to the young man's face.
Cyclops could see the rage in Gambit's face.
*I should stop him before he
seriously injures that young man.* Cyclops thought to himself, then
changed his mind. *He wanted a chance to prove himself. Well, this is
it.* Cyclops knew he was taking a chance by letting it continue, but he
was willing to give the Cajun the benefit of the doubt. He was not
disappointed as watched Gambit get control of his anger.
Gambit let the energy flow
back out of the card. He tossed it to the side where it fizzled
harmlessly and disappeared. *You not worth it,* he thought to himself as
he pulled back his fist. With all the strength he could muster, he hit
the man in the jaw. He let go of the man's sweatshirt as he slid,
unconscious, to the ground.
Cyclops smiled. *He deserved
that.* Cyclops then looked a few feet past Gambit, where Storm had
managed to subdue the youngest looking FOH member, who had attacked her
when she'd changed her clothes into her uniform. Cyclops was surprised
to see a trickle of blood coming from the young man's nose. *Apparently
Storm can also pack one helluva a punch when she needs to,* he chuckled
to himself.
The battle ended swiftly. The
two officers stationed by the platform quickly got over their shock. The
female officer handcuffed the man on the podium while the male officer
walked hesitantly over to Wolverine, gun drawn. Wolverine flipped the
man onto his stomach so the officer could cuff him. The young man still
looked hesitant, the sight of Wolverine's claws obviously worrying him.
"I ain't gonna hurt ya
kid, just cuff this scumbag already," Wolverine said in as gentle a
tone as his gruff voice voice could manage, while withdrawing his claws.
The young cop hesitated a
moment longer. *Hell, if he wanted to hurt me, I guess he would have
done it, instead of withdrawing his claws. Kinda wish I had a set like
that,* he thought to himself as he holstered his gun and cuffed the
prisoner. *Certainly would make it easier to manage the wilder ones,* he
thought, remebering a particually violent prisoner he'd arrested only
two weeks ago. His hand unconsciously went to his jaw and he rubbed the
fading bruise from where the man had punched him with his bear-like
hands.
Two more officers made their
way through what was left of the crowd and arrested the men Gambit and
Storm had subdued. The rest of the officers, who had been stationed to
the rear of the crowd, also reacted quickly. They arrested the FOH
members positioned throughout the crowd, and anyone else who tried to
help the FOH.
As he looked around, Cyclops
noticed that the fifth man from the platform was nowhere around. He
started to walk towards a group of people being interviewed by two
police officers when he noticed the man walking
towards Joshua. The police had already took a brief statement from him
and he was being helped to an ambulance by one of the people who'd been
at the rally. The older man walked with his head hung shamefully to his
chest. Cyclops stood still and watched silently, waiting to see what
older man was up to.
x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x
x x x x x x x x x x x
Joshua looked up as the
trembling hand touched his shoulder. He was almost to the ambulance. His
eyes flared with hatred as he recognized the man who touched him as one
of the FOH members from the podium. His speech hadn't been as hateful as
the other men's speeches. The man had seemed ... hesitant, unsure if he
really believed his own words, but he was one of them nevertheless.
"I know you ain't got no
reason to listen to me or believe what I say," the man started
hesitantly, his voice trembling almost as much as his hand, "but
I'd like you to hear me out 'fore you go." The man said hoping,
praying, Joshua would listen to him, his voice an odd combination of
southern twang and a New York accent.
"Talk." Joshua
said, struggling to keep his anger in check.
The man took a deep breath
and began talking. "My name's Darrel Ray James. Two years ago I was
approached by two members of the FOH doin' recruitin'. They told me all
kinds of stories 'bout how evil and hurtful mutants are. And, well, with
all the reports 'bout Apocalypse, and that Magneto fella, and them
others, well I believed 'em. I just took them on their word without
botherin' to find out the other side of the story." Darrel
paused for a second. Then began again.
"I got a granddaughter,
Kayla, about your little girls age. I've taken a real shine to that
girl. I don't know what I'd do if anyone ever hurt her like what them
fella's did to your daughter." He paused again, his voice
beginning to shake. He waited till he was sure his voice was steady and
began again. "My son Danny, Kayla's daddy, is a judge in Brooklyn.
He's been tellin' me some real nasty stories about these people. He told
me how
ruthless they are and how they'd do anything to get rid of mutants. Got
me ta thinkin'. Stubborn as I am though, I stayed with 'em. When I came
to the rally today, I was really starting to doubt my decision to join 'em
in the first place."
"When you came up there
and started tellin' everyone about your little girl, you made me realize
that my son was right when he told me I should leave the FOH. He stopped
coming 'round a year ago, even stopped me from seein' Kayla. Said he
didn't want her growing up hatin' people she didn't even know,
'specially for somethin' that ain't even their fault. I grew up in
Georgia in the early forties, you'd think I'd have known such blind,
pointless, hate when I'd seen it. Well, it came up and slapped me in the
face, plain as day, and I let my fear over rule my better judgment.
I just wanted you to know I had nothing to do with
the attack on your daughter. I had no knowledge of it till today. I know
that don't really make you feel no different about me. I guess what I'm
trying to say is, I'm real sorry 'bout what happened to your Sarah. I
want to let you know that, because of what you said today, I'm quitting
the FOH ... as of right now." Darrel took off his sweatshirt and
pulled a lighter out of his jeans pocket, then lit the sweatshirt on
fire. He let the garment burn for a few seconds, then dropped it in the
garbage can he was standing by. He watched it burn a few seconds longer
then turned and walked slowly away.
Joshua stared in stunned
silence as the sweatshirt burned. He looked to the man who was helping,
who was also staring in stunned silence at the burning garment. He
slipped his arm from around the man's shoulder and walked up behind
Darrel. He raised his good arm and put his hand on the older man's
shoulder.
Darrel was surprised by the
touch. He turned around and looked at Joshua. The two men stared at each
other for a moment, neither man saying anything, needing only that look
to convey their thoughts. They smiled, then turned away from each other.
Darrel walked out of the park, his shoulders straight and his head held
high.
Joshua turned back to the man
who was helping him. He looked past the man, and saw the stranger who'd
saved his life standing about seventy feet from him. The man was
smiling. Apparently he'd been watching what had just happened. He smiled
at the man and mouthed the words "Thank you."
x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x
x x x x x x x x x x x
Cyclops' smile widened as he
realized Joshua had noticed him and mouthed a silent thank you. He
nodded at the young man, and watched as the man nodded back, then walked
to the waiting ambulance. Cyclops turned to see his teammates talking to
the officers who'd cuffed Wolverine and Gambit's prisoners, and a third
officer. Storm and Wolverine had their backs to him, the young male
officer and another older looking male officer were taking their
statements. Gambit was a few yards closer to him. The Cajun was facing
him, his statement being taken by the female officer. Cyclops couldn't
help but notice how uncomfortable the Cajun looked. He remembered once
hearing Gambit say there where only two kinds of thieves who said they
weren't nervous or uncomfortable around cops. Liars ... and fools.
x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x
x x x x x x x x x x x
Gambit spoke quickly as he
gave his statement to the officer. He knew the officer had seen what had
happened, but it was police procedure to get a written statement from
everyone who'd been involved, or had witnessed what had happened. He
wished she would hurry up and let him go. Gambit had nothing against the
woman personally, he just wasn't comfortable around cops. They weren't
to hospitable towards people in his former profession. *Or my current
one, non?* he thought to himself. He looked past the officer and noticed
Cyclops looking at him. He watched as Cyclops scanned the park,
apparently looking for any signs that there might be more trouble.
"Excuse me sir ...
sir?" The young officer looked over her shoulder to the man Gambit
was now watching. She knew, from what Gambit had told her, that the man
was Cyclops, leader of the X-Men. She'd seen Gambit's eyes and therefore
knew why he wore the shades, but she couldn't understand why Cyclops
wore the visor over his eyes. *He's handsome.* she though to herself.
*Probably has beautiful eyes too. *She pushed the errant thoughts from
her mind and looked back at Gambit, who was still watching Cyclops.
"Uhhh ... sir ... Gambit ... what happened next?" She
asked. *What the hell kind of name is Gambit anyway,* she thought to
herself. She knew, judging by the names of his friends, that is was a
code name, but she couldn't understand why he called himself that. At
least the other people's name's made sense.
The gruff looking one,
Wolverine, resembeled the animal that he took his name from. Storm, who
had such a sereneness about her, apparantly controlled the weather. She
recalled the quick burst of thunder that rumbled
when the white-haired women had struck the man she'd captured. And the
man wearing the visor, whom Gambit had identified as their leader,
Cyclops, very much resembled the mythical creature of the same name.
Gambit heard the officer's
question and was about to answer, when something on Cyclops' uniform
caught his eye. There was a purplish colored dot that appeared to be
dancing around on Cyclops' chest. Realization of what it was hit him
like a ton of bricks. *Dat dot ain' purple, it's red!* He thought to
himself. *A sniper. Someone's gonna try 'n kill Scott! Not if I c'n help
it.* He took off in a dead run towards Cyclops, startling the
officer questioning him.
"Hey, I'm not done with
you yet." She shouted at Gambit.
He heard her yell. He ignored
her and kept running. "Cyclops, look out," he yelled. *Please
let me get to 'im in time.*
x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x
x x x x x x x x x x x
Cyclops was reasonably sure that everything had
calmed down. As he surveyed the park, he once again found his thoughts
drifting to his wife. He wished she were there with him, but he took
comfort simply in feeling her
presence in his mind. However, this was one mission they could have
really used her on. If she had been there, she would have picked up on
the angry, violent thoughts of the young man lurking in the woods.
x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x
x x x x x x x x x x x
"Stupid goddamn mutie
freak," a man whispered angrily to himself. He has been in the
woods during the whole rally. He's been stationed there just in case
they needed a sniper. He fumbled with the zipper on his pants, then
picked up his rifle again. *Just my lousy luck Mother Nature decides to
call just as that gene-joke freak blasts my brother. That's a big
mistake on your part one-eye, and I'm gonna make you pay for it.* The
man aimed his rifle at his target, not seeing the other man running
towards his target, and pulled the trigger.
x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x
x x x x x x x x x x x
Cyclops quickly looked back
towards Gambit as he heard the younger X-Man call his name. He was
surprised to see Gambit running towards him. "Gambit, what the ...
" Cyclops didn't get the chance to finish his question as he heard
the gunshots, then he was falling to the ground. He grunted as he hit
his head on a large rock. Hard. Cyclops fought the darkness that
threatened to engulf him. He opened his eyes. He was laying on the
ground, Gambit was on his side deathly still in front of him. Cyclops
gently rolled him onto his back. The Cajun's eyes were closed and his
breathing was shallow.
"Gambit ...?"
Cyclops removed Gambit's glasses, his eyes were shut. *What happened?*
He asked himself, looking worriedly at Gambit, who laid deathly still.
He put Gambit's glasses back on him. Then he saw the growing red spots
on Gambit's uniform. *Those were gunshots.* He thought to himself, as
his mind cleared somewhat. One red spot on his right shoulder, the other
on his chest, dangerously close to his heart. *Someone just tried to
kill me. Gambit saved my life!* Cyclops got to his knees and picked up
the wounded Cajun with great effort, then shakily got to his feet,
Gambit laying limp in his arms.
Storm and Wolverine
immediately ran to their fallen friends' sides. The two officers who'd
been taking their statements ran into the woods in the direction they
believed the shots had come from. "Gambit's been shot,"
Cyclops told them, struggling to keep the blackness from engulfing him
as his friends ran up to them. "To the Blackbird, now."
They all ran towards the
Blackbird, Cyclops a few steps behind, struggling with Gambit's weight
and the dizzying pain in his head. Any other time Cyclops would likely
have been at the head of the group.
Wolverine noticed Cyclops
lagging and slowed his pace to allow him to catch up. He thought he
smelled Cyclops' blood as well as Gambit's, but he couldn't be sure. *Cyke's
hurt too. I know it," Wolverine thought to himself. *Damn Cajun's
bleeding so much I can't tell if the blood's his alone, or if Cyke was
shot too.* Cyclops' uniform was covered with Gambit's blood. "Let
me take him Cyke."
"No. You run ahead and
prep the medi-slab," he told Wolverine. He knew Storm would prep
the jet for take off.
Wolverine hesitated a second,
debating whether he should listen to his gut which was telling him that
Cyclops wasn't as fine as he claimed to be, or doing as he was told.
*Can't be hurt too bad if he can carry Gumbo and run like he is.* So he
ran ahead to the Blackbird.
Cyclops entered the jet a
minute after Wolverine. He placed Gambit on the medi-slab as Wolverine
finished preparing it and went into the cockpit where Storm already had
the engines running. He put his hand on her shoulder giving it a light
squeeze. "Go help Wolverine with Gambit." He told her. She
usually copiloted, but she was concerned for her friend. If she had paid
more attention, she might have heard the pain in Cyclops' voice, barely
evident as it was. She might also have noticed the dark spot on the back
of Cyclops' head. Then she would have insisted on flying the jet herself
while he rested. But she was so caught up in her concern for Gambit, she
didn't notice.
"He'll be OK."
Scott reasurred her.
Storm took Cyclops' hand in
hers, returned his gentle squeeze with a thankful smile, and left the
cockpit.
Cyclops turned on the radio
and contacted the mansion as the Blackbird took off. "Jean, are the
others back yet? Was Hank with them?" He asked. He'd deliberately
used the radio instead of their rapport, to keep her from sensing his
pain.
"Yes. They just arrived
a few minutes ago. What's going on ?" She asked. She had the
television turned on and was watching the news while waiting for the
team to return. "Every news station is running reports that a riot
broke out at the rally, but was quickly controlled by the police and the
X-Men. Then, a few minutes later shots were heard. The police went into
the woods in the direction of the shots, then the X-Men
disappeared." She said, telling Scott what she'd seen and heard
from the reports. The reporters had turned their cameras to follow the
police, missing the X-Men's retreat. She paused for a second, puzzled by
her husbands silence and wondered why he was using the radio rather than
their rapport. "Are you OK, Scott? Were you hurt?"
"No," he lied
"I'm fine. Gambit has been shot. It looks pretty bad." He
quickly told her what had happened. "Have Hank get the medi-lab
ready. We'll be there in two minutes," he said. He shook his head
slightly, trying to clear the dizziness, and instantly regretted it as a
wave of pain thundered through his head. He winced at the pain.
Jean gasped as she heard
Cyclops' news. "All right, I'll tell him." Then she heard
Scott's wince over the radio. "You are hurt," she accused.
"Ororo or Logan should be flying the Blackbird." Her voice was
a mix of
anger, concern, and fear.
"No." He said, his
voice much harsher then he'd intended. He softened his voice as he spoke
again. "I'm fine Jean ... really. Gambit is the one in danger here.
We're landing now." He abruptly cut off the radio as he finished
talking. Cyclops landed the Blackbird, powering it down as he pulled
into the hanger bay. He let out a heavy sigh as he got up and retrieved
Gambit, carrying the injured X-Man off the jet.
Jean was surprised and a
little hurt by her husband's abruptly ending the conversation. He was
hurt, she was sure of it now. As much as he tried to shield it from her,
she could feel it. ~You are quite possibly the most stubborn man I have
ever met, Scott Summers,~ she scolded him. She sighed as she got only a
slight chuckle in response.
~Hank, prepare the medi-lab.~
She told Hank. ~The others are back, and Gambit has been shot. Scott
said it looks pretty bad, ~ she quickly filled him in on what Scott had
told her.
Hank, who was already in the
medi-lab, acknowledged her. He sighed, said a silent prayer for Gambit,
then set about getting everything he'd need.
Jean headed for the hanger
bay, arriving just as the Blackbird touched down. Logan came out first,
a grim look on his face. Then Ororo came down the ramp, silent
tears staining her cheeks. She was followed closely by
Scott, who'd once again insisted on carrying Gambit. She gasped as she
saw the young Cajun laying limp in her husbands arms, eyes shut. His
armor was covered in blood and his face was pale. Cyclops' face was also
a little pale, his mouth was drawn into a tight line, face grim. His own
uniform was soaked with Gambit's blood. He walked quickly as he headed
for the medi-lab; Jean, Ororo, and Logan beside him.
x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x
x x x x x x x x x x x
Cyclops gently laid Gambit
down on the bed.
"You'll have to wait in
the waiting room with the others, Scott," Hank said. When Scott
didn't move Hank spoke again. "There's nothing more you can do
here." He gently laid a hand on Scott's shoulder. Then he noticed
that Scott also looked pale. "You don't look so hot yourself, my
friend. Go sit in the waiting room with the others and relax. I want to
see you when I'm done with Remy." Hank was worried about Scott. *He
has a concussion, I'm sure of it, but there is nothing I can do for him
now. Remy's condition is much worse
than his is.*
"Yeah, OK," Scott
said. He wanted to stay, but his headache was getting worse, and his
vision was beginning to cloud again. He knew he had to either sit down,
or lean against something or he'd pass out. When he was younger, Scott
had earned a black belt in Judo. As the number of missions and the size
of the team increased, his life got more hectic and he'd slowly drifted
away from Judo. As his vision grew even fuzzier, he closed his eyes and
concentrated on remembering the breathing techniques he'd learned. He
slowly breathed in and out, as he'd been taught, willing the pain and
dizziness away. He opened his eyes, took one last look at Gambit, who
now had Hank's full attention, and walked into the waiting room.
xxxx One hour later xxxx
Hank walked into the waiting room rubbing the back of
his neck. He looked into the worried faces of his friends. He looked at
Rogue, the sassy young southerner who loved Remy more than she cared to
admit, but could never show it. Storm was there, who loved him like a
brother. Also there was Logan, who shared the younger man's affections
for beer, cigarettes and late nights out. Then there was Jean, who over
the years had become a somewhat reluctant den mother to everyone, and a
friend of Gambit. Finally, there was Scott, who had never completely
trusted Gambit (and made no secret of the fact), but had nevertheless
accepted Gambit as a member of the team, and his family.
Everyone stood as Hank
entered the waiting room. "Remy will be fine. One of the bullets
hit his right shoulder causing some nerve damage, but it's nothing a
little time and some rehab won't heal." Hank added the last part
quickly as he saw the worried look on Rogue's face. "It appears our
Cajun friend's charm powers work on bullets as well as people." He
continued, only half joking. "The other bullet struck him in the
chest, narrowly missing his heart and all major veins. Luckily for him,
it did no major damage to the surrounding tissue." Then his voice
somber. "Even one more centimeter to the right, however, and we'd
be looking at a completely different picture," he told them,
letting his tone say what his words implied.
"C'n Ah see him,
Hank?" Rogue asked.
"He's still unconscious,
but I know he'd like to see you when he wakes up."
Rogue nodded and walked into
the medi-lab. Everyone was so relieved to hear that Remy would recover,
that no one noticed Scott slowly, shakily sit back down on the small
sofa he and Jean had been sharing. He leaned forward, resting his head
in his hands, and closed his eyes.
Hank looked over to Scott as
Rogue went in to be with Remy. *My stars. He looks much paler then he
did before.* Hank thought to himself. "Scott, could I see you in
the medi-lab for a moment, please," he asked Scott calmly, not
wishing to alarm the others. Scott opened his eyes, just barely visible
behind his ruby quartz glasses, and looked at Hank. *His pupils are
dilated as well. I fear his concussion may be worse than I originally
thought.*
Scott got unsteadily to his
feet, took a shaky step, and pitched forward. Jean reacted quickly,
catching her husband with her telekinesis before Scott could hit the
ground.
"Scott!" The others
all gasped in shock.
Hank picked up the
unconscious Scott and cradled him in his arms like an infant. "He
has a concussion," he told the others, then quickly turned and
walked into the medi-lab, a very worried Jean close behind him.
Ten minutes later Hank went
back into the waiting room. Warren, Betsy, and Bobby, who'd gone out for
a drink upon returning to the mansion, had returned and where now
waiting with Logan and Ororo. The five friends looked at Hank, faces
etched with worry.
"Logan and 'Ro filled us
in." Warren said. "How's Scotty?"
"He has a very serious
concussion, and he's lost some blood. He'll have a monster of a headache
when he wakes up, and will need to stay in bed for a few days, but he
will be fine."
"Can we go in?"
Bobby asked.
"They're both sleeping
now, but as long as you are all quiet, I see no problem with that. It
will have to be a short visit for now."
They all nodded and followed
Hank in to the medi-lab, thankful their friends would be all right.
x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x
x x x x x x x x x x x
Scott opened his eyes slowly,
and immediately shut them against the blinding light.
"Scott? Scott, ... honey
can you hear me? Hank, I think he's waking up."
"It's about time,"
Hank said from behind his desk. He got up, stretched, and walked over to
Scott's bed. "Come on, Scotty. Time to rejoin the land of the
living."
The voices sounded distant to
Scott as he slowly reopened his eyes, blinking rapidly to bring the
blurry faces into focus. "Hiya, beautiful," he said weakly,
looking into Jean's worried eyes.
"Hi yourself,
handsome," she said back, letting her relief flood through her
rapport with Scott.
"Ya had us worried for a
while there, sugah," Rogue said as she walked from Remy's bed to
Scott's.
"Quite worried, my
friend," Hank said. "You see, when someone has a concussion
the general consensus is that the person should be kept awake for a
period of no less twenty four hours immediately following the injury to
make sure their are no ill effects. You, however, lost consciousness and
stubbornly refused to wake up." Hank said, only half teasing. His
voice then grew series. "How do you feel?" He asked.
"Like a thousand little
men are trying to jackhammer their way out of my skull," he said,
managing weak smile. He turned his head and looked over at Gambit.
"How is ... arghh ... oww," Scott started to say, then moaned
as he attempted to sit up, instantly regretting the decision as a wave
of pain crashed through his head.
"Take it easy, Scott.
Your concussion is pretty serious," Jean said as she and Hank
gently forced him to lay back down.
"If you should attempt
to rise again, I shall be forced to tie you to this bed," Hank
warned Scott with a toothy grin, as Scott attempted to get up again.
"Now lie still."
Scott smiled at him and did
as he was told. "How is he," he asked pointing to the still
unconscious Remy.
"He's gonna be fine,
sugah," Rogue answered. "What exactly happened out
there?" Jean had filled her in with as much as she knew.
"That's a good
question," Xavier said as he entered the medi-lab. The rest of the
team followed behind him, Bobby still trying to rub the sleep out of his
eyes. Xavier had called a few hours ago, and upon hearing of Remy and
Scott's condition, quickly returned home. Storm had filled him in over
the phone on what had happened up until the time the shots where fired.
They had all waited anxiously for Jean to telepathically alert them when
either Scott or Remy had awakened.
Scott gave them a brief
summary of the rally, then told them about Joshua and how he'd witnessed
what had happened between the FOH member and Joshua. He then explained
how Gambit had yelled out his name and leapt at him. He then told of
hitting his head on the rock, and turning Gambit over to see the two
wounds on his chest. "I carried him to the Blackbird and we came
home," he finished. He paused for a moment, looking at each of his
teammates. He looked at Rogue, Warren, and Bobby who all stood together,
then spoke again. "He saved my life."
Everyone was quiet as they
let Scott's last sentence sink in. They all felt guilty, some much more
then others, about ever doubting Gambit's loyalty to the team, and of
how they'd treated him the last eight months.
"All right everyone,
Scott needs his rest," Hank told them as he noticed Scott attempt,
unsuccessfully, to stifle a yawn. They all nodded and said goodnight.
All except Rogue, who returned to Remy's side, and Jean, who remained by
Scott.
Scott stifled another yawn
and looked at Jean. "You should go too, hun," Scott told her.
"You look exhausted. How long was I out?"
"Almost fifteen hours.
You took quite a blow to the head when you hit that rock. Of course, it
didn't help that you then carried Remy to the jet, flew it home, and
then waited up for Hank to tell us how he was." She looked at him
sternly. "I'm staying here with you. I'm not that tired."
Scott looked at her
sheepishly, then put his hand on her still flat (but not for long)
stomach. "The baby agrees with me you know."
"Oh really?" She
asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah, really."
"And how do you know
that?" She asked in amusement.
"Father's
intuition," he answers with a smile. "Seriously Jean, I'm
fine. Please, go get some rest," he told her. He saw the dark
circles under her eyes and knew she had been awake the whole time.
Jean smiled at him, then
gently kissed his forehead. "Okay. You're right. I guess I could
use a short nap. I'll come back as soon as I wake up." She kissed
him again, said goodnight to Rogue and Hank, and left.
Scott smiled as he watched
her leave. He knew it was likely she wouldn't be back before morning,
and let sleep claim him once again.
end chapter 5
Notes: When possible, it is general practice to keep a
person with a concussion awake for a while. I'm not sure how long a
person should be kept awake, my brother had a concussion a few years
back. My Dad said he thinks the doctor told my him and my Mom to keep my
brother awake for twenty four hours. Here are a few facts that I found
on a webpage.
DEFINITION--A violent jar or shock to the
brain that causes an immediate change in brain function, including
possible loss of consciousness.
SIGNS & SYMPTOMS:
MILD CONCUSSION: .Temporary loss of
consciousness. .Memory loss (amnesia) .Emotional instability.
SEVERE CONCUSSION: .Prolonged
unconsciousness. .Dilated pupils. .Change in breathing. .Disturbed
vision. .Disturbed equilibrium. .Memory loss.
Check out this site, http://www.thriveonline.com/health/Library/sports/sport263.html
for more info.
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