WHO:Emma Frost & Hank McCoy WHEN: After this here WHERE: Seal Beach; Hank's lab WHAT: Emma's problem is addressed, covalent bonding successful WARNINGS: Mild to none STATUS: Complete
She found it utterly ironic that she and Logan had pegged Henry to be the next viable solution to Emma’s current discombobulated problem after Jean and her unfortunate ability to call forth the Cosmic Life Ruiner, but they both had thought he’d need his dream memories for that. As if somehow they’d forgotten the force of nature that was Henry McCoy’s brain.
But Emma wasn’t looking a gift horse in the mouth, and even without either of them properly knowing one another in this version of events, Emma would put money on Henry being the solution to her problem in the dreams just as much as offering an alternative here. And she’d take this before she resorted to healing flesh, and she’d have taken that before she called Jean.
Seal Beach took a little while longer, but thankfully Emma had located a purse that was large enough to hide her severed arm (it was more of a carry on airport bag) and a jacket to go over the diamond self. It made her just a little less likely to draw attention to herself.
She wasn’t too surprised to see a non-blue and furry Henry waiting for her, at least one of them would look relatively normal for the moment, but she made a point in taking the quickest route just so that she didn’t accidentally blind anyone from the sun reflecting off her head.
Wasn’t this a most intriguing situation? Diamond was - as he knew - not organic, it was comprised of carbon, so when Emma told Hank that was what she happened to be made of right now he felt a surge of hope because surely something more biochemical would be easier to work with than strictly a chemical compound. The scientist was also slightly befuddled, but over the past couple of weeks he’d completed more research on these ‘experiences’ typical to Orange County. His documentations and spreadsheets were categorical, separated into ‘dreams,’ personal crossovers between universes’ and ‘mishaps,’ which chronicled the widespread Orange County...afflictions.
Like blood rain, giant arachnids, holiday characters coming to life? Things of that nature. Things he couldn’t explain yet. But it was his duty to study up on it all.
It was also his duty to help right now; if he had the skills, and the equipment, why not lend a hand? “Emma!” He waved to her, like they were old friends (obviously it was easy to pick her out in a crowd, catching a glint of sparkly skin there), and was excitedly talking a mile a minute about his plans. “I have the synthesizer all juiced up and ready. It’s very state of the art, just think of it as a chemical method to piece together very small organic molecules - it can synthesize at least fourteen different types of molecules, and I am certain that your organic diamond form will meet the criteria.”
A wonder he didn’t bump into anything as he led her back to his lab, in all his excitement.
Never before had Emma been thankful for the science babble that she could barely keep up with. She wouldn’t have expected less, and any Hank McCoy was better than no Hank McCoy, since out of the people she knew capable of things like this, he was top of the list. It would’ve helped had the dreams let her see through to the reattachment of her arm, so that she might have some insight. If that happened. But then, she was certain that her friends wouldn’t leave her in a constant diamond state.
“Well, I’m putting myself in your capable hands, I’m sure.” It wasn’t like she could put much warmth into the words, in her current form it was hard to emote anything, which might be for the best, less she need to explain her affection for a man she just met.
“Sadly, I’m not terribly scientific minded, beyond a passing knowledge of second hand information. But if it works, I’m not going to question it.”
Clean, efficient, sterile. Hank’s research laboratory was his life - it was where he spent a good portion of his day, moving about in what was like a seamless choreography, drawing pipettes of fluid from one tiny tube and transferring them to others. The hum of machinery, that was like a soft whisper in the background and the aroma of the place was mostly of prepared agar plates but there was an undertone, the slightest bit of bleach. Across the back wall were floor-to-ceiling windows which revealed a view of the beach, but that was hardly the draw for Henry.
“Come in, come in,” he insisted, slipping back into his lab coat after grabbing it from a hook by the door. “I’m flattered that you’ll put yourself in my capable hands, and I promise not to let you down.”
He pulled out a seat for Emma, near what was presumably the synthesizer they’d be using. She did have the severed arm with her, yes? Must have been an interesting trip. “Now, generally, this type of machine is used to speed up the search for new medications, and things like electronic and solar device components - it’s really quite a wonder for chemists, to be able to rapidly identify functional molecules. How did this happen, by the way?” Meaning the sudden loss of limb. “I know you said celestial interference but I assume it was a ...dream?”
Hank was still wrapping his mind around all of that. But he would do his best, even if there were still many unanswered questions.
In this life, Emma had never stepped foot in a laboratory such as this. Dream wise, she felt like she’d just slipped into the lower levels of the school again, times spent planning attacks on the latest threat to their survival, or a new compound that was fascinating and needed further analysis. It was in no way home, and yet it felt entirely comfortable.
Being led to a seat, Emma shrugged the jacket off to drape over the side, plainly leaving her left arm visibly detached from just above her elbow, the bag she laid down beside her was reached into and the arm in question was withdrawn.
“Yes, the dreams have… unusual side effects.” She wondered if Henry had started to dream yet, if he was starting to understand the world of mutants and the oppression, or if he was still blissfully unaware of what was to come. “There are beings called the Celestial Watchers, and during a confrontation with an adversary, they attacked. One of their weapons was able to sever my arm while I was in my diamond form.” Which was hard to do, but then the Celestial’s were heralds of the end, were they not?
“And now I am here, in quite the predicament.”
Since he was about to run a synthesis, Hank placed the required cartridges into the machine (these were the necessary building blocks) and now all he had to do next was push the start button. How incredible was that! Automating the assembly of molecules, all with the touch of a button! He very dearly loved the miracles of modern science.
“And these Celestial Watchers, why did they attack?” he frowned, pushing his glasses up further on his nose. “I have yet to...experience a dream. At least, not in the way I have seen on the forum I’ve been reading and researching. It’s all quite fascinating. Oh, and if you could just lean forward a little - “
He took Emma’s, uh, arm - how incredibly strange, but it really did feel and look like diamond - and placed it on the table near the machine’s output. “There we go, and I promise it won’t hurt.” Admittedly, he’d never done this with organic diamond before - it was a substance that he was encountering for the first time - but without a proper analysis of Emma’s skin in this form, he was still confident that fusion would happen as it was meant to.
“A complicated twist and plot from a being called Sinister,” thankfully, he named himself well enough that Emma would likely not have to explain that he was, indeed, the bad guy. “Between hive minds, controlling people and the art of distraction, the Celestials were just another way for him to create problems for us.”
If she could exhale breath she would, but for the time being, facial expressions would have to make do. Leaning as directed, Emma stored away the fact that while he was following the dreams, they’d yet to affect him. Given time, perhaps. “It’s fine, really. I don’t feel anything in this form, so even painful procedures will be okay.”
Then again, she hadn’t believed she could lose a limb in this form either, and here they were. Her flaw was one thing, that delicate little weakness that so few knew about, but this was something else entirely. Then again, Celestial kind of gave the impression that they were beyond human comprehension of power.
“And what do you make of the dreams then, Dr McCoy? As a scientific outsider.”
Pushing the button, Hank angled the contraption where he needed it, and watched as the machine first did its proper readings - of the diamond skin, so it would know what needed replicating. It was simply a brief scan of Emma’s arm, and he was right - when he checked the readings, everything seemed to be processing correctly for the replicating process. It was like her arm would get sewn back on with a thread made of the same material as her skin, produced by the machine.
If this had been entirely carbon-comprised diamond, surely he would have gotten an error. Diamonds (the non-synthetic kind) were not so easily replicated. You could do it with a hydraulic press, surely, but - ah, anyway. Reminded him of when he told Katherine about making synthetic diamonds from tequila - that was possible too.
In fact, he’d probably try that next if this didn’t work for some reason - use those very small, very tiny diamonds as stitches.
However, this appeared to be going to plan - thank goodness! “Well, someone I spoke to on the forum brought up the multiverse theory,” he said, leaning in also, to hold Emma’s arm to the spot where it was severed just below her elbow. He tried not to bump heads or noses with her. There it went, atom duplication (molecules simply atoms put together - like atoms were the ice cream scoops and molecules were multiple scoops in one sundae dish, was how he liked to explain it!) and attachment.
“If that’s indeed what the dreams are, sort of a glimpse into another world,” he continued. “Many philosophers have connected dreams and quantum physics. They say that lucid dreams are an attempt to alter the history of other worlds - which begs the question, what are the people in these other worlds dreaming of? Are they dreaming of us? Is this their lucid dream?”
Emma had no doubt that the science was revolutionary, that what was happening in the lab was in some way the next development for the world in general. Regarding what didn’t really matter, state of the art everything usually indicated towards revolutionary things. Things like recognising and repairing organic diamond.
She felt nothing, as she knew she would, even as the machine started its work, and Emma could focus her attention on Hank rather than the fact that she was in two pieces. At least she had some scintillating conversation to distract her from the attachment process. “An interesting theory, to be sure.” The multiverse theory made a lot of sense to Emma, partially because she knew of a multiverse within her own universe, or her dream universe at least.
“It also questions whether we are the dreamers or just the dream. Is our existence their dream, or is their existence our dream? Are the two even fully integrated to the point of circling? Is this just a penrose steps situation?” Sometimes Emma wondered if it was a sort of triggered glimpse into another reality, but it would just add more questions.
“Of course, that doesn’t explain how this,” and Emma carefully used her good arm to indicate to her fully diamond form right there, “is at all possible. Unless we were the dream.”
“Ah, there’s the rub,” Hank chuckled, as he checked on the progress of the reattachment. Emma did not seem uncomfortable, which was good - but as she said, she couldn’t feel anything regardless. How odd it must be, to experience life as a living, breathing diamond. “Do you tend to think we are the dream? That is all...fake?” It was sort of a depressing thought, but he would err on the side of optimism instead. As usual. “Perhaps it is a matter of the dream being an interaction into a parallel world - we are not fake, but instead, simply co-existing at the same time as our other selves. I am, admittedly, keen on the idea that dreaming is really depicting events occurring in a real alternate world unfolding."
It was a lot to consider, and he wondered if they would ever know the answers - perhaps not concretely, but living here in Orange County most assuredly led credence to theories that were only just theories before. “There we go, it’s looking close to finished,” he tried not to sound too giddy. But science.
“If you don’t mind, Emma, would you be amenable to letting me...study your diamond self a little more?” Hank asked hopefully. “Just looking at the composition and properties. I would not need to chip anything off, or otherwise disturb your form - “ For some reason, he turned a little red; it sounded like he was expecting to poke and prod at her. “Completely noninvasive! This diamond skin is...well, it’s fascinating. Beautiful.”
He had a point, the co-existing parallels at least, something that Emma herself thought would be fairly ideal given all their circumstances, and the existentialism of the entire thing. “If we’re the dream, it’s one hell of a slap in the face,” but things deterred so supremely from the dreams at times, didn’t it. For one thing, Adrienne was still very much breathing in this world, and yet, her other self had killed her sister in retribution for the beautiful mutant lives lost by her jealousy.
“I’d like to think we’re both real, that the glimpse through the curtain is… A warning, or another path we could walk, should our choices align.” Ways they could change, ways they could grow. Potential outcomes of lives lived. And in Emma’s case a chance to make better choices, not just for herself.
There wasn’t so much feeling returning to her arm, but a certain degree of awareness, her fingers were moving, hand flexing with her usual thought as the line around her upper arm, where the disconnect had been, was fading to nothing at all. This was likely far less traumatic that potentially having Hawke attempt a blood magic healing. Whatever that might have entailed.
“Well, Hank, since you’ve just saved me a potentially bloody, painful and ghastly reattachment, or losing a part of my partner in her selflessness, I believe I can accommodate your inquisitive mind.” She wasn’t worried about the wrong hands, wasn’t worried about potential studies, not when it came to Hank. “Like I said, I feel nothing like this.” When she felt like she could, she’d transform to her flesh and blood, make sure Jean was alright, breath air for a little while. But she didn’t mind if Hank wanted to know more about her organic change. “Perhaps it will help, should something like this ever happen again.”
She might have something of a ‘scar,’ or a bit of unevenness where the diamond arm was reattached - something of a flaw, occasionally diamonds had them - but nothing that would be particularly noticeable in her human form. Or so Hank hoped. “There we go, wiggle your fingers again?” he instructed, taking her arm and testing the elbow joint, the way the limb should bend, things of that nature. “Wonderful! You’re as good as new, Emma.”
He shut off the replicator for now, and rolled on his stool over to another table and cabinets - where he gathered a couple tools and instruments. Then, rolling back smoothly, he was ready to begin his studies. “Alright, now just sit back and relax. I am curious if your insides transform as well - for instance, your organs, your blood,” he said as he hooked her up to a few devices. “Are you solid all the way through?”
From what the bio tests were showing, it appeared as if she was solid throughout. No need to eat, sleep, or even really breathe in this form at all. Stars and garters.
It felt near perfect, everything settling the way it should do, and Emma half wondered if this would be her second flaw, if she’d accumulate them until her form was too weak and she couldn’t maintain the diamond structure any more. It wouldn’t leave her defenceless, of course not, but it would be a limitation she’d not experienced in quite some time.
“Everything transforms; organs, blood, bone, tissue. Even my hair.” Her uniforms didn’t, it was just her, every single cell of her was altered. “I’m stronger, more durable, I can maintain the form as long as I’m conscious.” Which naturally meant human requirements no longer mattered to her. “Although when I do resume my normal form there are… occasional issues.” Not using your body the way you were meant to could cause issue after all.
But then, her transformation in it’s truest form had been out of need to survive. She knew that Cassandra had a part to play in Emma’s secondary mutation, the shift from tissue to diamond was not purely chance. But when she needed to survive, when the fires of Genosha was stealing the lives around her, Emma became something more, something harder, something dazzling, and survived.
“Usually I am completely invulnerable in this form.”
Yes, indeed, those brief tests Hank was running? They were showing - well, pretty much nothing. No activity, zilch, nada. If Emma was even breathing at all now, it was likely just out of habit. “But you don’t feel anything - not even emotions?” he asked, just to be sure.
A couple of samples were taken also - just for shits and giggles (as the kids said) her fingerprints, and a sample of diamond hair. Since that transformed too, he was curious about the texture and composition. “How did this even come about? Is it only you, in your dreams, who can transform like this?”
“Emotions are complex.” That was one of the best ways to put it really, complex. She wasn’t without emotions, they were just harder, less empathetic. Emma lacked a degree of empathy in her own form, taking that thin strip away and she was almost acerbic. “I become a touch more cold hearted like this, the longer I remain this way, the more I lose my empathy for others.” Somewhat sociopathic, perhaps, but it did allow her to act without the issue of feelings clouding her choices.
“My primary mutation is telepathy, I’m exceptionally skilled. And following a series of tragic and traumatic actions taken against students, I retreated to the island nation of mutants, called Genosha.” While she was in her diamond form she couldn’t even feel the residual grief from that, how she felt for the poor little souls that perished there. “We were attacked by mutant destroyers, man made robots built for the sole purpose of destroying us. They laid waste to Genosha and in the turmoil this happened. My secondary mutation, my survival trigger.” She couldn’t tell just how much of it was to do with Cassandra Nova and her interference, but Emma wasn’t questioning it now.
Sharing it with Hank wasn’t terribly difficult either, with what all she’d shared with this man in her dreams, the support that he offered regardless of her past, she found that secrets weren’t entirely necessary. “I’m the only one I know of, my students, genetic daughters really, are able to transform their hearts to diamond, they did that to lock away a portion of an enemy. And I have taught a young mutant with a mimicry ability to do so in order to protect herself.” Hope was a keen learner, and Emma understood the value in being able to protect oneself. They’d all worked so hard to help Hope grow, if that included imparting portions of herself on the rebirth of the mutant race, Emma was more than willing.
“Transforming a heart to diamond,” Hank breathed out, somewhat awed by the thought. “That is quite the skill to have. But - “ He frowned, and hearing of all this horror that had happened in Emma’s dreams was like a punch to the gut. Of course he didn’t like it, not at all. Who would want to destroy mutants and why? “Saying anything close to ‘I’m sorry’ seems to pale in comparison - but it is sincere, and I really am sorry that you’ve seen so much trauma. Experienced by yourself and your students. But it is inspiring to see that you do carry on, regardless.”
Now that he had the readings he was interested, a snippet of data regarding organic diamond, he wouldn’t ask for Emma to remain in this form for much longer - she was probably eager to be human again, without the pain of a severed arm. “Well! Try and change back now? See how you feel?”
Even Emma had been impressed by the triplets, their quick thinking and tenacity working to lock that shard of the Pheonix up within them, unable to escape and cause problems with their individuality. She had been very proud to learn that those girls were her girls, even as she lost all of their bright, shining siblings, rife with possibilities. “It’s quite fine, Hank, but thank you all the same.” She almost hoped he didn’t have to experience it all for himself. After all, even within mutants, there was a possibility for blending in that she experienced, a certain privilege in having an unobvious mutation. But things would unfold however they had to unfold.
Standing up, although not entirely necessary to change, Emma let the shift settle in, wary of the potential to need to transform back should her arm give her problems. But as the diamond gave way to flesh, blood and bone throughout, Emma wiggling her toes in her boots just for the sake of it, she found no noticeable issue with any of her body parts. A slight twinge in her arm when she flexed it, but beyond that, “A marvellous job, Dr McCoy, although I shouldn’t expect less I suppose.” Yes, if anyone could’ve used modern science instead of cosmic power, it would’ve been Hank.
“I feel right as rain.” And starving, but that was probably because she didn’t get the chance to eat breakfast that morning.
“Ah, wonderful! It looks great too,” Hank said as he moved to examine Emma’s arm, now flesh and blood, to ensure that there wasn’t much scarring. A faint line perhaps, a flaw in her human form too, but she was - quite striking, needless to say. Ergo, a small flaw like that (when it could have been much worse, involving arm reattachment surgery) wouldn’t take away from anything. “I have a lunch break coming up if you’d like to get something to eat and continue our discussion. Or tea, perhaps? Do you drink tea?”
He had a feeling she did. Don’t ask him how or why, but that was just the vibe he was picking up for some reason.
Oh, she missed her tea with Henry, afternoons where for a few minutes she was just Emma and he was just Henry and tea and the current events could be discussed between friends. Away from judgemental colleagues or wary students. Strange, how she could miss something she herself had never had.
“I would like that very much, yes. Tea would be fantastic.” A small line of superficial scarring was nothing in the long run, she did well to have managed this far in their dream lives to remain as untouched as some of her team mates had not. “And I would like very much to hear more about your theories and studies on the anomalies here.”
If Hank got a chance to discuss the anomalies of their environment, with someone who wanted to listen? Then all the better. “Perfect!” he grinned happily, shutting everything down - the machines he wasn’t using, to save power, and he also put his computer (he’d built it himself, for the most part) to sleep. Then it was off with the lab coat and on with a rather fashionable cardigan with pocket protector (not really fashionable in the scheme of things, but Henry thought so), to go out and grab a quick bite to eat. And tea. Something hot and perfect for winter - it’d been abysmal lately, this weather, and tea always seemed to make that feel better and thaw ice that settled in the bones.
“There’s a nice cafe nearby, that has imported teas,” he said, finding his keys. “I imagine you’ll find something to your liking.”
Just stop him if he went on and on too much, Emma. Hank tended to do that, but then again, it was probably part of his charm.