ArchivedLogs:Finding a Way

Finding a Way
Dramatis Personae Peter, Hank	2014-03-19 Post Dead On Arrival.
Location <XS> Medical Lab - B1
Gleaming and sterile, the school's medical facility is all cool science in contrast to the mansion's old-world old-fashion. All stainless steel and antiseptic tinge, the room is filled with the quiet whir-click of the various implements that comprise its medical equipment -- all state-of the art. The hospital beds are curtained off for privacy when they have patients, and in one of the alcoves there is a small operating theatre visible. More heavy-duty equipment is visible in the lab in the back, where the securely locked cabinets keep sensitive equipment out of the reach of teenage fingers. It isn't until later on Wednesday morning that Peter rouses from the ball of quiet, wet sobbing and unconsciousness (mostly the latter) to weakly access his phone. When Dr. McCoy comes to check on him, he'll find Peter laid out on one of the beds -- still looking sick as before, his chitin an off-shade of greenish blue -- a nearby metal basin serving as his vomit-pan (already full). Peter's suffering from decompression sickness; he's suffering from ascending weakness in his lower extremities -- he can't walk, his hearing is going in and out -- he's nauseous, suffering from migraines, aches all over his body -- frankly, he's probably lucky to still be alive. But no sooner has Hank McCoy stepped into that room then is Peter affixing him with a tired, red-rimmed stare, eyes lifting from his phone for the first time in what might be an hour: "Professor," Peter says, voice hoarse and choked, "you need to --" *glk* "-- inject Spencer with all the cryoprotectants you have and freeze him." Hank raises his bushy blue eyebrows when it looks like Peter is awake and he rushes to the boy's side, claws clacking on the smooth floor. The doctor is wearing khaki pants and a white collared shirt with his white lab coat over that. "Peter I-" But he's cut off by Peter's request. His expression softens and he lays a huge, gentle hand over Peter's forearm. "Peter, I'm sorry. I know how hard this is. I really do. But Spencer is gone. Freezing him can't bring him back to us." Peter /shakes/ off that forearm -- maybe just a bit more violently than he intends to. He's already shaking his head, though the action seems to prompt yet another bout of vertigo and nausea. "He's not..." Peter's body wretches to the left; he snatches up the metal basin with his left hand, briefly dry heaving over it. After several hard, dry retches -- and nothing to show for it -- he wipes his mouth with the back of his other hand, shaking his head more slowly... "...Karrie's power can bring him back. /If/ the tissue isn't too degraded. I know--" Peter's eyes flash, something furious and adamant in them. "--that it isn't fair to ask her to do it. But -- there are other ways -- we can find other ways -- /figure out/ other ways. But you have to do this quickly, Professor McCoy, before the tissue damage advances too far." Hank takes a deep breath and releases Peter's arm, resting his hands on the railing along the side of his bed. He waits patiently as Peter is almost sick again, and when the boy is catching his breath Hank waves over one of the lab assistants to bring a fresh pan. When the boy lays back again, he speaks softly, "Peter..." He takes another patient breath and shakes his head. "I know what Karrie can do, because her power is already killing her. In all our research into mutant abilities, Karrie's power is unique. We hardly understand how it works at all, beyond the incredible toll it takes on her body. You're asking to trade one person's life for another." Hank shakes his head, and on a closer look, his eyes look puffy and the fur around them is matted from tears. "We're all hurting from this loss, but our best next step is to be there for Jackson and Micah and their family. There's nothing worse than losing a child, but we have to be strong for them." "Goddammit, /listen/ to me," and there's fury -- raw, fierce, exposed -- in Peter's voice, in his eyes, in the way he struggles to sit up in bed -- his own hands dropping down to the railing too. Gripping it hard enough to make the metal /creak/. "I've met mutants who can heal you with a touch; I've met at least two other mutants who can /copy/ the abilities of others. There are mutants out there who can -- enhance powers -- Karrie might not even /need/ to be the one who brings him back. Whoever does, they might not -- need to lose anything /at all/. I just need -- a few days --" The fury breaks, replaced with a choked, strangled sound; a sob as Peter sinks back to the bed, his grip on the railing loosening, his eyes floating back up to the ceiling. "Please, just -- a few days. I can -- figure this out. /Please/. Let me try." Hank closes his eyes for a long moment, a single tear squeezing out to sink into his fur. "I know, Peter. The possibilities seem limitless. But we have the grief of the family to consider. I won't freeze Spencer's body without his father's approval. But like Lazarus, if you can convince Jackson or Micah to authorize it, I'll keep Spencer frozen for three days. After that, I don't think even the cryoprotectants will be able to make a difference. And you have to promise to accept that fate." Peter makes a dry, hoarse croaking sound -- but he's already reaching, fumbling for his phone, scrolling through the numbers. "--prep Spencer, sooner the better, I don't know what -- yes, I promise, just -- I'll call Micah I'll get his permission. They don't..." Peter closes his eyes, thumb hovering over Micah's name. "...know yet. I was in such a rush just to /find/ him, I didn't -- have a chance to /tell/ anyone. But... We can. Do this. Thank you." He thumbs the button for Micah's phone number.