Hank McCoy (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} starsngarters) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} valarlogs,@ 2014-08-18 18:27:00 |
 |
|||
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
What: Bonding and catching up
When: Backdated, August 8th, right after this
Where: Scott's office
Rating/Warnings: G/PG
Status: Complete
As soon as Hank had Scott’s address, he headed out to his car. Driving barefoot felt...different, but then again, so did having bigger, more agile feet. He felt rather impatient with the other drivers because of his excitement. He wondered if Scott had had dreams, too. From what the person he’d accidentally contacted had said, it seemed very likely that the other man had. And if he had, had he gained any of the abilities that the Scott in the dreams had? Did he have to wear special glasses? If so, who had made them? So many questions.
Finally, Hank arrived at his destination. He was a little unsure where he should leave his car, so he parked it where he thought anyone else who came by would not have trouble getting around it. He got out and bounded toward the main house.
Inside the main house, Jen the Secretary was going over some of the ranch reports. Really, without her, she knew the Ranch (now the Outreach Center) would have fallen apart years ago. She'd survived three owners, a meteor hit, a massive fire, and invading zombies people, and she had no plans on going anywhere. Her first boss had given her a chance, and she'd never be able to thank him enough.
So she looked up at the odd bespectabled man as he entered, blinked once, then said. "Mr. Summers is in his office, first door on the left."
As though odd people were a common occurance to her.
Hank opened his mouth to ask how the woman knew who he was looking for, them decided not to bother. Clearly this was not something out of the ordinary, and Scott seemed to be in charge. Which made a fair amount of sense. Hank simply gave the secretary a smile, said, “Thank you,” and headed in the indicated direction.
He saw that the door was open and paused for a moment. He took a deep breath, then moved to stand in the doorway. “Scott?”
Scott looked up from his computer, his shock registering on his face even behind his glasses. They were as ruby red as Hank likely remembered from his dreams. And Hank's voice was so familiar.
He felt a rush of emotion, culminating in regret, before standing. "Hank."
Seeing the recognition on Scott’s face and hearing it in his voice made Hank grin broadly. It was a great relief to know, even without discussing it, that Scott had also dreamed of a world where they’d been friends for, well, ages. He crossed into the room, still grinning.
He felt...a little overwhelmed. In the dream world, he’d been certain that Scott and most of the rest of the X-Men had died in Antarctica. Seeing him alive, albeit in the waking world, was an was such a relief. “You’re here.”
Scott held out his hand, then thought better of it and pulled the other man into a tight hug. He was too used to seeing disdain, hatred and disgust in Hank's face. It was something he'd born alone, not willing to share with Rachel or Kitty. Sort of like his own punishment for the things he'd done.
Hank returned the hug just as tightly, though he tried not squeeze too hard. He wasn’t exactly sure how much his strength from the dreams might have transferred over. But he did hug tightly, ducking his head to bury it against Scott’s shoulder as he tried to hold back the tears that threatened to come. Scott was here, and he was alive. That gave Hank hope that Scott--and the others--had somehow survived in the dream world, as well.
Hank didn't hate him. At least not yet. Scott swallowed a hard lump in his throat. "It's really good to see you. I've...seen a lot of people from our dreams, but none of...Not you, not any from our class." Except for Jean, but that had been sixteen years ago and Scott had no idea how to break that to Hank.
“I thought you were dead,” Hank said, his voice cracking a little. “In the dreams. In Antarctica.” So they were they only ones here. Or the only ones so far. That would have been so horribly lonely. “Sorry I didn’t find you sooner.”
"It's okay. I knew you were around, but I haven't had the chance to message you. I'm glad you came to me. There's...a lot to take in." Scott pulled back, gesturing for Hank to sit, and pulling his chair out so that they could face each other without a desk between them. "And...there was Jean. We were together when we were in high school. We had Rachel together. But she's..." He gestured helplessly with his hands. "Been gone. For a long time now."
It broke his heart to say it.
“I got your address thanks to an odd whim of the network, right after I dreamed about it all. And woke up with these.” Hank wiggled his feet once he sat down. His eyebrows went up at the mention of Jean. This information was both expected and also...not expected. “You have a daughter?” He frowned slightly. “And I’m...sorry about Jean.”
Scott glanced down at Hank's feet. Blue might happen. He'd help Hank through it. He tapped his glasses. "Yeah, a lot of things come through. And ... I'm trying to remember the timeline of everything. I've dreamed about some alternate universes so it jumbles up, but Rachel comes back in time to help us and gets stuck. I got to raise her here."
He didn't know if he'd had Nate, and frankly he wasn't sure if he wanted Kitty to track down Maddie for him.
"It was a long time ago, but I know she would have been happy to see you."
“Alternate universes. Yes, that would get confusing. The person who gave me the address said she was able to jump between dimensions, or something to that effect.” Hank ran a hand through his hair. It was a lot to take in, like Scott said.
“I’m glad you got to raise your daughter, at least.”
"Blink. You spoke to Clarice." Scott nodded. That made sense and he was glad it was her, at least. She knew what it was like to change.
"She's a teleporter, among other things. Rachel takes after Jean, though. So you've dreamed up to antarctica?"
“Is Rachel a redhead, too?” Hank smiled slightly. “But, yes. Well, a little after that. I was spending some time hanging out with Simon Williams. Wonder Man.”
Scott nodded, his own smile fod, yet sad. “So you’re with the Avengers now? Or close to it?”
Hank nodded. “It’s...still all sinking in. It was an amazing amount of information to acquire in one night.”
"They come in fits and bursts. Sometimes you'll dream of one event all night, other times you get years compressed into a few hours." Scott rubbed the back of his neck. "A lot of mine didn't even come in order. They jumped around, years at a time."
Hank frowned. “I expect that’s even more jarring, dreaming things out of order and not having the knowledge of how you went from point A to C. Or having a dream end on the proverbial cliffhanger.” Though with the X-Men--or the Avengers--he expected a dream could leave one at a literal cliffhanger as well.
"There were a couple things I knew would happen, simply by the..absence of people. I could infer." Scott grew quiet, and looked down at his hands. "And other people who dreamed more, knew more. Kitty always seems to be ahead of everyone else."
That part didn’t sound good. It sounded like, whatever happened, things in the dream world didn’t really get any easier for them. Hank didn’t want to ask, not really; he expected he’d find out, in time. Even if having Scott bear the burden alone wasn’t something that felt good, either. “Are there many...mutants around?”
The dream world was a large amount of crap. Scott could never emphasize that enough. Sometimes, though, it was best to just let things come as they came.
"There are eleven or twelve of us. Most of us you'll dream about eventually."
“That’s a fairly impressive number.” Hank leaned back in his chair and looked at Scott. It was a strange feeling, looking at someone you felt you’d know all your life when you barely knew anything about them outside of the dreams. He needed to change that.
“You seem like the man in charge of something interesting,” he said.”A ranch is quite a thing to own.”
"That doesn't include Avengers. There's a lot of us."
Scott glanced back up, and smiled. "That's a complicated story. Originally we just helped youths here. Kids who were one step short of jail or Juvi. I used to just work here, but it passed from one person to another, then to me. We had to rebuild it two years ago, too. I'd already been dreaming, and we'd seen some...transfer of potential enemies to Orange County, so there's an entire sublevel you'd probably find very familiar. After we transitioned into helping people with powers, it had added use."
Hank’s eyes lit up a little at the mention of the sublevel. “A noble undertaking, all around. And I must admit I’d love to have a look at that sublevel sometime. I’m only just figuring out the extent to which my abilities have transferred from the dream world to this one.” One thing which had thankfully not transferred--so far, at least--was the blue fur. He was not entirely sure how long it might stay that way, or how he would manage if--or when--that aspect did manifest.
"There's a room where you can stretch yourself to your limits." Scott found himself grinning, even though he shouldn't. "It might be a little familiar to you."
He was debating telling Hank just the extent to which he kept mutating.
Hank grinned back. “It would definitely be a better place to try things than my apartment. I doubt anything there is currently strong enough to swing from, for one thing.”
“I don’t think the shower curtain could hold you,” Scott agreed. “It’s a full fledged danger room, but we tone the danger down a whole lot for most people.” He sounded almost excited.
“I’ll definitely have to schedule in some session,” Hank said. “Start off with the basics, perhaps, just to find the rhythm of how things work now.” He would also need to make sure he had extra work-out wear handy.
Scott looked forward to seeing that. Really, he was entirely too excited at the prospect. It would be like starting over anew, even though he knew things and skills would come too quickly. Much too quickly.
He just hoped by the end of it all, Hank could still look him in the eyes. So to speak. “You’re welcome any time, Henry.”
“Thank you, Scott.” Hank smiled again, then just looked at the other man for a moment. “It’s so good, knowing you’re around.”
“It’s good having you around.” You have no idea , Hank. You have no idea.