Earth-247

Thoughts and Prayers

The low hum of electricity in aging tube lights was just loud enough to Scott's heightened hearing to keep him distracted, which he desperately needed. It was between the sound and the smell, and, despite all descriptions he'd ever heard, Scott always thought hospitals smelt plastic. Something about the immediate sterilization of death and potential contamination rendered the air artificial and stale. This just left the hum.

"Charles?" a nurse called into the waiting room.

"Yes?" Charles answered.

"The Greys and the doctor are ready for you."

Charles patted Scott's knee and ordered softly, "Stay here."

Scott just nodded, unwaveringly nervous to be out in public with his custody still in question.

Charles followed the nurse through the lobby door and down an overlit hallway. The hall was a cacophony of variously pitched electronic tones and subconsciously emitted biological noises. Beyond the normal cacophony, a sea of desperate forethoughts swirled around Charles. He grimaced as he fought to reduce the sea to the drizzle of white noise that always plagued him.

God, just take me now. I can't take this pain.

Help! Help!

I just want to get out of here. They can't keep me against my will.

I don't want to do homework, Mom! Why would you bring it here?!

Is that... is that light for me?

"Charles?" the nurse asked, cutting through the deluge.

Charles looked around. Unknowingly, he'd stopped in the middle of the hallway and let the nurse put several yards between them. "Yes," he finally answered. "Yes, I'm sorry. I forgot how much all the... 'noise' affected me."

"Oh, that makes sense," the nurse offered kindly as Charles caught up. "I've worked here so long, I think I just tune out all the whirring and beeping." She chuckled, turned back around, and continued leading Charles to the room. I wonder if Stacy's still got earplugs in her desk, the nurse thought to herself. Charles heard and smiled to himself.

When they reached the room, the nurse put a hand out in a gentle "wait here" gesture, but the doctor immediately saw the two and ushered Charles in.

"Thank you, Colette," the doctor called out to the nurse.

Charles caught Colette before she left and said, "Thank you, Colette, for escorting me here, and I appreciate the gesture, but the earplugs will not be necessary."

Colette unfurled a smile mired by confusion. "Uh, you're welcome? I mean, you're welcome, I just, I... don't remember saying that... out... loud." Charles had beamed warmly then wheeled into the room while Colette trailed off.

"Dr. MacTaggert," Charles greeted the doctor with a stiff air of professionalism.

"Charles," Moira said softly, leaning down to hug her old friend. As Charles held back a blush, Moira continued, "These are Mr. and Mrs. Grey, and this is their daughter, Jean. Mr. and Mrs. Grey, this is world-renowned geneticist, Professor Charles Xavier."

Charles turned to face the parents and extended his hand. "Just Charles, please. I'd say, 'How do you do?' but I suppose I have an idea."

The father stood stoic, but the mother accepted the handshake. Her face was sunken and sallow, the stressful days and sleepless nights carried tidily in sparse, small wrinkles. Even now, her eyes were overly moist, but she mustered the kindest smile she could. "Elaine, and this is John."