I Die Often Hank

Chapter 65

Crimson's POV:

Ever since the whole fake memories and trying to kill everyone incident everyone has been treating me differently. They act like I'm fragile, if they so much as come near me I'll break. I'm not a fan of this. Charles and Erik are the worst about it, half the time they won't even look me in the eyes. There's usually someone lingering near me, watching as if I'm a toddler who needs supervision. 

Today I'm working in the garage fixing a car Peter practically totaled doing god knows what. Charles and Erik are lingering in the doorway and they aren't saying anything, but judging by the looks on their faces they are having a mental conversation; and not a pleasant one. When Charles had groaned for the third time in twenty minutes I'd had enough. I suddenly dropped the socket wrench on the ground and both men practically leaped out of their skin. 

"Say what you wanna say or leave me alone," I instructed very annoyed at their behavior. The two men turned and glared at each other probably arguing in their heads. 

"We're having a disagreement and your opinion is very important in this matter-" Charles started before being cut off. 

"But you shouldn't have to worry about that kind of stuff right now, you don't need extra uh- issues," Erik spoke. And there it is. Issues? I stood up and grabbed a nearby screwdriver before pointing it threateningly at the two men. 

"My only issue is you two excluding me from the important conversations, that I have a right to be a part of," I accused getting a surprised expression from both of them.

"From the little I know about what you experienced I'd say you certainly have some things you need to figure out first," Erik spoke again while Charles pondered to himself. 

"I don't think you're in the right mind to be making important decisions right now, too many emotions are running through your mind at once," Charles added. I'd heard enough and decided to go blow off some steam before I clock one of them. I pushed between the two and back inside the school. 

"I don't need a babysitter," I called out as I walked away. I could hear Charles and Erik start to bicker again. Those two are like an old married couple I swear, always with the bickering. 

Unfortunately, Erik had good advice the last time I had fake traumatic memories, so I would go back to what worked the first time. I headed for the gym desperate the hit something without repercussions. I walked inside and thankfully it was empty, no babysitters. I got to work hitting the punching bag. I kept hitting it let my emotions take over for me. 

*Thud* One for Andrew

*Thud* One for Midas

*Thud* One for Erik

*Thud* One for Kirk

*Thud* Alex is dead

*Thud* Logan is dead

*Thud* Raven Left Us

*Thud* We abandoned the kids

*Thud* The world will never accept us

I kept going for what felt like hours. Anger and sadness filled my mind as I kept hitting the bag. Again and Again. I was utterly exhausted. By this point, I could barely stand. I finally gave in and sat down with my back pressed against the wall. My head dipped down and I started to feel incredibly dizzy and thirsty. I realized my mistake. Hours of exercise and sweating and I hadn't had any water. My body can heal, but it can't make water. God, did I really just do this after making a big deal about how I don't need someone to watch over me. 

The door to the gym opened and I watched Warren walk inside and look around before his eyes finally landed on me. A concerned expression made its way onto his face. His wings quite literally ruffled and I found it a little funny. 

"Water, please," I asked and he quickly dashed away. Warren soon returned with a bottle of water. He rushed over and kneeled down in front of me handing me the water. While I quickly downed the water I couldn't help but notice how his wings had instinctively formed a protective circle around us. 

"What happened? And don't lie to me, I know something is wrong," Warren spoke. 

"Nothing, I just got distracted," I lied. He definitely didn't buy it. 

"Then what is your explanation as to why when I cut myself shaving the cut closed itself?" Warren asked. Ah fuck. He's got me there. 

"I got wrapped up in my memories. I've been through a lot, and it gets overwhelming sometimes," I answered honestly this time. Warren moved from a kneeling position to sitting on the floor in front of me. Oh, so this gonna be a long conversation. 

"I have a lot of questions, just stop me if I go too far, okay?" Warren asked I nodded. "How long were you stuck doing cage fights?" Warren asked. 

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," I answered and he looked intrigued. 

"Try me," Warren replied. 

"140 years," I answered. 

"140 years?" Warren questioned. I watched as he rapidly went through all five stages of grief. 

"Yup," I added, and Warren looked like he was on the brink of having a stroke. 

"Please explain," Warren begged. 

"Well healing means that I age really slowly, the same thing went for Logan. Warren, I was born in 1839, I'm 146 years old," I answered. The poor boy looked like he was actively losing his mind. "I was taken by Midas when I was five years old, I didn't get out until about a year and a half ago," I continued to explain. 

"Is Midas a healer too?" Warren asked.

"No, in the time they had me they went through three Midas'. The mutant gene is carried by the father, he passed on his mutation to his son and then his son. All of them were named Midas. It's just easier to act like it was one man, less confusing that way," I explained. 

"Do the others know that you're a fossil?" Warren asked. A fossil, really?  

"Charles and Jean do, you know telepathy and all that," I answered.

"Your Fiance doesn't know?" Warren asked. 

"He sort of knows, he's never brought it up. He knows Logan was born in 1832 and that Logan was only seven years older, but he has never talked about it," I answered. 

"So what's your lifespan?" Warren asked awkwardly. 

"Well, Logan was my only reference for aging and his healing stopped working a few months ago..." I answered. 

"So you've got seven years until you're normal?" Warren asked. 

"About yeah, physically I'm like 26," I answered. Warren started to grin broadly. "Oh no, what are you so happy about?" I asked.

"I'll be 26 in 7 years..." Warren answered. 

Then I remembered, in 7 years Hank will be 38, his lifespan is not aligned with mine. That's probably why he doesn't acknowledge it. 

"Oh god, I'll be the same age as my son," I spoke without even realizing it. I just called him my son. Oh. OH. OH GOD! I JUST CALLED HIM MY SON!

"S- son?" Warren asked lacking confidence for the first time. 

"I- uh- I guess I've kind of considered you to be like a son. That's not weird, right? I just, I can't have kids the regular way, the healing gets in the way and you're younger and I felt sort of protective over you. When I healed your wings that day, I don't know..." I rambled. 

"No, no it's not weird. I sort of always saw you as a mother figure too. You're nice and protective and you fixed my wings. My parents always hated me because of my mutation, but your first instinct was to help strengthen and heal my mutation. You and Hank are like the parents I wish I had when I was a kid," Warren joined in the rambling. 

"I mean your 19 and I'm dead, so I can't legally adopt you. But family isn't about paperwork or DNA, so Warren you are my son. I'm sure Hank would be your Dad if you asked him," I spoke. Warren had a huge grin on his face. 

"You think so?" Warren asked, neither of us able to keep from smiling. 

"Only one way to find out"