Log: Beast & Remedy Who: Hank McCoy & Elvyran Adelaide When: Thursday, May 8, late afternoon Where: The medlab! What: Elvyran finishes up a healing session with Kurt and Hank has a present for him.
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The healing was getting a little easier every time. At first, Elvyran's hands themselves had caused some nasty bruising when he worked on Kurt, needing to focus on the more lasting injuries, but Kurt was slowly recovering -- even if Elvyran strongly suspected he'd been up to something that was bad for his back lately. He was getting better, and the more Ran was able to ease up on the more dangerous injuries, the more bruising he could clear up on his way out.
But healing Kurt tired him out; he liked to get as much done as possible in a sitting, so by the time Kurt left, Elvyran was usually exhausted. Elvyran has his room in the basement, but there are times he just doesn't feel like going back upstairs. Like now, leaning back in a chair and just trying to catch his breath after watching Kurt leave. His hair, usually meticulously pulled back while he works, was falling out of the tie, making him look disheveled, in a comfortably tired way. Healing wasn't easy, but Elvyran always looked so satisfied when he finished a session, even if Kurt was still limping around. It was worth it.
"Well, well, if it isn't our miracle worker." Hank peeked into the doorway, pulling a pair of latex gloves off of his massive hands. Special-ordered! It was almost impossible to find good old sterile gloves that wouldn't just snap when he tried to put them on. If he didn't have a million other hobbies he would have started up a mail-order company for mutants with special needs.
Elvyran was special to Hank. His apprentice, his medic-in-training. He was a necessity, with those healing hands of his. Without Elvyran, several of them would be dead, or dealing with permanent damage. Kurt would be dead if it wasn't for Elvyran, that was for certain.
The kicker was, Elvyran was dead.
Hank knew this. Hank knew (now) that the Elvyran Adelaide he dealt with these days wasn't the Elvyran Adelaide who had been a student at the school. He knew that that Elvyran was killed by the Legacy Virus, that he was dead and buried. Well, he had been. He had a feeling the body was no longer where it was supposed to be. Either way, Elvyran-version-2.0 was supposedly the only surviving specimen of Mr. Sinister's cloning project. The other clones had either died or had gone insane, tried to kill people, and then died----or were killed, one of the two. This Elvyran, this clone, had some different little quirks, but on the whole he was the same. Same memories and everything. Hank just... noticed it from time to time. Thought about it. Wanted to study him under a microscope sometimes but knew that was impolite.
"There's fresh coffee if you need some, and I snuck down some of the leftover wedding cake." The gloves were tucked into the pocket of his labcoat and he rubbed his hands together quickly to try and pump some life back into them. He didn't like that trapped-in-the-gloves feeling.
Elvyran sat up a little straighter at the word 'coffee'. "Really? That's wonderful, the sessions with Kurt wear me out." But the way he said it, he couldn't seem to be happier. The old Elvyran was there, sure enough. But ... he didn't think of himself as the 'new' Elvyran at all. Too hard to, when he has all the same memories and habits. Sure, he was different from his pre-dead self, but that just came with the territory. Being 'resurrected', pulling out someone's spine, and dating Sarena Alexander would do that to a person.
It wasn't something Ran liked to dwell on. He was a clone, he knew that, and he felt guilty for taking the 'old' Elvyran's place, but what else was he supposed to do? He felt the same about the same people, and after all, people were just their memories. He was who the old Elvyran would have been, given his experiences.
"I'm surprised we made it through the wedding without someone dying." Not that ... Ran would've noticed much, per se. He hadn't stayed much longer than Sarena, leaving shortly after she did to follow her. ...And go play checkers, of course.
"I'm surprised we did, too, though I'm quite grateful for it considering I would have been short-staffed." Hank raised an eyebrow and peered at Elvyran over the rims of his glasses. "You tiptoed out of there quite early, young man. I was saving a dance for you." He beckoned Elvyran with one clawed finger----come along, come get coffee.
Following rather dutifully, Elvyran tried to look embarrassed, and succeeded, a little. "Next time Mr. Parker gets married, I'll save one just for you, Doctor," he promised, trying not to grin and look guilty. He'd snuck off, sure, but they hadn't actually done anything particularly scandalous.
Hank went to the medlab's little kitchenette where there was a microwave, a coffee maker, and a mini-fridge. "Oh, good; I hope you waltz," he said with his usual jolly sarcasm, pouring Elvyran a cup and inviting him to sit down. Poor kid needed a break, didn't he!
Then, a box of condoms was plopped into Elvyran's lap. "Don't be an idiot, boy."
Elvyran has the mug halfway to his mouth when Hank dropped the condoms in his lap -- and then he really turned red. Turning the box over in his fingers, Ran ultimately ... handed them back. "No offense, sir, but ... wrong size."
"Oh hoh!" Hank snorted, catching the box in one hand and looking it over. "Did I overestimate or underestimate?"
After a moment, Elvyran answered reluctantly, "Under."
Hank chuckled, tucking the box into his pocket and then he was off toward the medical supply closet. Whistling. "Easily remedied!" he called. Hank had condoms of all types and sizes for all types of people. This was a school full of teenagers after all. Teenagers and sexually-irresponsible adults. He had to have this stuff easily on hand, he had to be ready to pass it out at a moment's notice.
"Shall I pick for you or would you care to browse the selection?"
"No! No no no, it's fine!" It shouldn't have been so embarrassing; Elvyran and Sarena were adults. Ren would be twenty soon, and Ran in the fall. It should not have been embarrassing. "I already have a box or ... four. I'm all right, I promise."
Hank played football and baseball as a kid. It wasn't a wonder that when Hank threw another box of condoms, it hit Elvyran smack in the side of the head. "Never deny the offer of free prophylactics!"
Elvyran did not play football and baseball. Forget reflexes. Flinching as he was hit, he rubbed the spot where the box had come in contact with his head. "You shouldn't throw things. I'm a horribly scarred and disturbed doctor-in-training who was just fixing someone's spine." He tried to look pathetic and failed so badly that he looked, well ... pathetic.
Hank was returning, looking quite self-satisfied. He needed to help himself to some cake. "You're a horribly scarred and disturbed doctor-in-training who doesn't want any miniatures running around. So I advise you wear two or three when you 'do it' because you don't want to take any chances."
"I know how not to have kids," Elvyran assured him, trying not to be that nice, bright red. "Ren doesn't want them running around, either."
Hank didn't seem to impressed and he poured himself a cup of coffee. "Uh-huh," he grunted. It wasn't clear whether or not he approved of Elvyran's choice of sexual partner. It wasn't Hank's place to approve or not, and he wasn't really passing judgment one way or the other. "That's what they say, they think they know everything, and that's how they end up with babies they don't want----by the by, Elvyran, I'm not qualified as an obstetrician."
Elvyran made a face. "I'll keep that in mind." He was a smart kid, Ren was a smart kid, despite what people might have said. And Elvyran was comfortable in his choice of partner, despite public opinion. Or ... well, despite most public opinion. There was still a part of him that desperately wanted Hank's approval for it. Not really anyone else's, just ... Hank's. "I don't know everything, but we're careful. It's not as if we do it often, either. It's too much for her sometimes." That was admitting a lot, but it's just Hank. "...She's not as bad as people think she is."
Hank blinked at the sudden seriousness. Who said this was allowed to get serious? Not that accidental pregnancy wasn't serious. Please. "I didn't say she was," he said kindly, and that seemed to be that. "Too much for her? Obviously, none of my business, lest it's a medical issue that needs to be remedied." He wanted everyone at the school healthy and happy and didn't have an issue crossing traditional personal boundaries when it came to asking.
"Emotionally," Ran supplied. "Physical contact with other people gets overwhelming. She starts losing herself, eventually." It sounded crazy, but the evidence was there -- and it clearly happened in reverse, too. The longer they were together, the more similarities were becoming evident. People were used to Ren being neurotic, but Elvyran was becoming unusually aggressive lately. They were bleeding into each other, and Elvyran, at least, didn't seem to notice.
"Mm." Hank went to add a massive lump of sugar to his coffee. "That's very common with empaths, particularly one of her caliber... I remember William having similar issues, though over the years he really mastered his level of control." William, of course, being Dr. Bill Norris, the old guidance counselor at the school. He, like Elvyran, had died of the Legacy Virus... but he wasn't cloned and therefore didn't get to come back. Bill and Hank had been exceptionally close, and Hank really didn't talk about him very much. This was the first time he'd mentioned him in ... quite a long time. "It will probably just take time for her. Time and perseverance. Trial and error. Patience. She's one of the more unstable mutants here, power-wise."
"I miss Dr. Norris," Elvyran admitted, reaching over and dumping way too much creamer into his coffee. He was a healthy man, but ... damn if he didn't have one hell of a sweet tooth, too. He hadn't gotten exceptionally close, but he'd seen Bill regularly for a while just after coming to the school, back when he'd been registered. "He may have been able to help Sarena, too. But she's getting better at it, little by little."
"Time and practice, time and practice... you can achieve just about anything with those two things plus a healthy dose of patience." That was Hank's sage advice, anyway, and he nodded confidently before taking a long gulp of coffee. After a few seconds of silence: "Good sex. That also takes those three things, so don't ever turn down condoms."
There. Sex Ed from Hank McCoy.
Elvyran nearly choked on his coffee. "Point taken. And ... please. Please, for the love of God in Heaven, let's never have this conversation ever again."
"I didn't get to have this talk with your original copy," said Hank, brushing off the potential seriousness of the clone thing like it was cute and quirky. "As the slightly more mature and slightly less straight-laced carbon copy of yourself you get to subject yourself to all of the uncomfortable talks that your virginal premier self didn't need."
The mention of The Original made Elvyran flinch. He really didn't like talking about the whole ... clone thing. It brought up memories of, oh, ripping out Carol Danvers' spine. Not fun. "Please don't," he breathed, finding his coffee very, very interesting at the moment.
Oh. Oh, was this touchy? It was probably touchy. Hank felt terrible for being insensitive. He'd never actually dealt with a clone before. "I didn't mention it with the intent to insult you, boy," he said, setting his mug down. He reached out and plopped a massive clawed hand on Elvyran's shoulder. "One of the best days of my life was the day you came into it."
Not you came back into it. The original Elvyran was dead, but Elvyran's clone was here, and Hank... was selfishly grateful that this little insane science project could bring back his healer and apprentice. Hank was aware that Elvyran was a clone, but did it matter? He had all the memories. He had some different quirks but that wasn't to say that Elvyran wouldn't have picked those up on his own. The boy was aging, he was growing up. People changed, clones or not.
But at the same time, he wanted to give the clone credit as an individual. He didn't know if there was some kind of... of clone etiquette, but he wanted to make it clear that he didn't ignore Elvyran's unique situation and live in denial.
He needed to hear that, and for the first time since he'd killed Carol, Elvyran looks honestly upset. Not at Hank, but the last thing he needed was to be reminded that he wasn't ... real. He'd like to ignore the clone angle altogether, to be honest. "I know. It's fine. I'm not comfortable enough to make jokes out of it yet." Betsy called him Elvyran 2.0 to his face, and it stung. People looked at him funny. And ... he hated it. "I'm still getting used to the idea that most of my identity is stolen from somebody else. I'm living his life, I am what he could have been, I'm taking his job and dating the girl he had a crush on. And I feel guilty for it, even though it's not my fault. I feel guilty for enjoying it."
"He's not here to be offended," said Hank after a moment. "In fact, I think... with his memories and a copy of his body, what are you supposed to do other than live the life he left behind? Don't feel guilty for it. Don't feel guilty for living his life, but don't feel bound to it, either. You're still your own person and from this point on you make your own choices."
He picked up the condoms and tossed them at Elvyran again. "Good, responsible choices." And he gave him the Meaningful Stare.
"I do make good, responsible choices," Elvyran muttered, still feeling guilty but taking the box anyway. It's all he's really got without adding to the pity party.
"Yes, you do, and I'm quite proud of you, but that doesn't mean I want the slightest risk of more of you running around in miniature." Hank went back to his coffee. "Much as I like the second version of you around, I could do without an extra few."