The X-Project

When a doctor from Cook County Hospital is treating a sucidal teen, a sudden change forces him to call in back-up.

 

Chicago. Nathanial Essex had never liked the city. Not for reasons that he could understand logically, of course. Just a lingering distaste that had materialized the very first time he'd set foot in the city for a conference and never entirely went away. Still, deep internal analysis wasn't much of a priority for the doctor as he stepped through the doors of the Cook County Hospital, looking with a certain amount of amusement at the Hektoen Institute sigh that dwarfed the admitting notices.

"Dr. Essex!" One of the lab coated doctors detached himself from the scrum of medical professionals and police near the door and hurried over to him. "Thank you for coming at such short notice, sir."

"Of course, Alex. It wouldn't do to leave a friend in trouble." Essex said mildly, shaking his hand and noting the slightly twitch of discomfort as the smooth flesh of his hand met the pebbled and scarred flesh of his own. Dr. Alex Gordon had been one of his interns during his research period at Johns Hopkins, and had been one of those who had reaped considerable benefits by the genetic research that enabled the first mutant genome testing process. Now he was a very young department head, even if the Institute was a small one, and destined for larger things. "So, tell me what you're dealing with?"

"Male, mid to late teens, certainly a mutant. No positive identification yet. He was brought in by a local trucker, found him by the side of the highway about an hour outside of the city, both arms slashed from wrist to bicep by a dull, rusty blade of some kind." Dr. Gordon read from his small note pad. "Regional hospital choppered him into us when they noticed elevated healing processes, potentially in the mutant range. We ran the tests while he was in surgery. Certainly a mutant."

"A suicidal one at that. No identity?"

"Not that we've discovered yet. No wallet, personal items beyond generic clothing, or match with the local police's missing persons reports." Gordon licked his forefinger and flipped a page in his book. "We successfully repaired the damage to his arms, and put him under restraints following normal procedure for a suicide case. Turned out to be lucky. The patient regained consciousness, and according to the attending nurse, changed."

"Changed? Interesting." Essex said, one eyebrow raised and his finger tapping against his chin. "What sort of transformation."

 "Werewolf." Alex put his hands up. "Sorry, sir, but there's no better explanation. One minute he was a skinny kid that had lost enough blood that he should have never survived getting to the first hospital, much less us, and the next, we've got a Hollywood movie monster fighting at the restraints, trashing about and trying to sink his teeth into anyone he can reach."

"Hmm, feral transformation would explain the outburst. In many cases, Alex, the hormonal and chemical elements of the transformation suppress normal cognitive function, making the mutant react more animalistic, instinctual. It does make you consider how thin the veneer of what we call civilization is." He paused. "What did you do?"

"Injected enough aripiprazole and propofol into him to send him out for a long time, even if he's got a healing factor or drug resistance. We've been slowly dropping the dosage, hoping that he'll come out lucid and calm. Oddly, the werewolf change reversed itself after about ten minutes following the drugs." Dr. Gordon explained. "You should be able to wake him normally, but we've got him hooked into an intravenous line with a hot button to a major dosage if he goes squirrelly again."

"Squirrelly is hardly an accepted medical term, Doctor. You've been in the Midwest too long."

"Sorry sir."

"Let me talk to the boy, and see if I can get some sense out of him." Essex said, and paused as they reached the room. The young man inside was pale and sticklike, his age hidden by the obvious wasted condition of his body. "Curious indeed." Essex muttered, and nodded for the orderlies to unlock the door.

"I think we-"

"Alex, you made the right choice when you called me. Best stick with that perfect record for now. I'll need the full file, including the results of all of his tests and the existing samples." He held up his hand to forestall any protest. "Don't challenge me on this, Alex. I know the administrator of this hospital, and he's already been on the phone discussing a potential new genetic research initiative that he wants to develop. If you want to help this boy, get his DNA back into proper hands, and I'll see to it that this new brainstorm of your boss's turns out to be his last at this hospital."

Essex walked over to the coat rack and hung up his expensive raincoat, before stepping to the small sink and washing his hands automatically. "Have one of the nurses bring a carafe of black coffee, and something simple for the boy. Eggs, toast, juice, oatmeal... nothing too heavy or savory. Once I've spoken to him, you and I can discuss the situation." He had all but thrown Dr. Gordon out of the room of his own patient, but Alex was used to the treatment. Essex was brilliant in many things, but interpersonal management wasn't one of them. His kind of genius meant that the feelings of others were only a concern when he chose to make them so. Some people considered it arrogance, but those who had worked under Essex knew it to be disassociation. While his labs were coldly professional environments, they also were totally free of the political games, manic egos, and professional infighting that dominated other groups, and only the research had any value to the man.

"Yes sir. I'll get you those files." Dr. Gordon said with a nod, trusting the intelligence of the man he'd called for help, and walked away, closing the door behind him. Essex stood for a long moment, staring at the figure in the bed before he checked the notations on the vital signs, and stepped forward to shake the boy lightly.

"It is time to wake up, young man." The crisp English accent had no emotion beyond curiosity. "You've had a busy day."

“What?”  Nick Gleason nearly jumped out of the sheets upon being shaken by Dr. Essex.  He grabbed quickly on to the sides of the bed tightly and closed his eyes, fully expecting for his body to begin shaking at any moment, to begin to violently transform into a wolf.  But nothing did.  Instead his entire body felt calm, serene, something that he hadn’t fully experienced since his first transformation.

Breathing heavily Nick tried to remember exactly where he was, what was going on, but nothing came to him.  What was the last thing he remembered?  He could remember slicing his own wrists with an axe in the woods, fully expecting never to wake up.  He forced to pry his eyes open, to look at the man who had woken him.  Nick slowly moved his eyes up and down the new member of his room.  Usually new people made him extremely nervous, but for some reason, this stranger calm him down.  Maybe it was that or the drugs, but he didn’t think that he could transform into his wolf-form if he wanted to.  Nick slammed his head back onto his pillow, and for the first time noticed a blue restraints tied around his wrists.  As he tried to kick of the sheets, he noticed the same things around his ankles.  He tugged at them both several times before turning towards the other man in the room, squinting his eyes in confusion.  “What’s going on?”

"You are in a room at the Cook County Hospital, following your attempt at suicide." Essex said dryly, taking a seat beside the bed and steepling his fingers. "Do you remember those events?"

 "Remember?"  Nick pushed his eyebrows together as if he was trying to force himself to follow his own commands.  Suddenly he was forced to close his own eyes closed as it all came rushing back to him: the house, the fire, his parents, and his sister.  He kept his eyes closed as he again was afraid that at any moment his body would start vibrating and he would return to his more beastly side, but nothing did.

Opening his eyes hesitantly he again turned his eyes to the doctor sitting next to him.  "I was in the woods when I smelled a fire.  I ran home and found a group of people who all had these... funny symbols on their sleeves running away from my house.  When I got there I found my entire house on fire and heard screaming inside.  I used my... gifts."  Upon using the word Nick paused hesitant about what the doctor's reaction would be.

 "Interesting." Essex muttered, staring at the young man. "In response to the fire, you used your mutant ability to shift into a feral transformation of a lupine cross. Do you remember attempting to kill yourself?" 

 Nick was forced to pause for a second.  He had never experienced someone who was so comfortable about his mutant abilities.  Even his own father had been hesitant around him.  He found it comforting for a lack of a better term, quickly deciding that he needed to tell the strange man everything in an attempt to find help and make sense of the last few days.

 He forced himself to cough, bringing himself back around to the current situation.  "By the time I ran into the fire, it was already too late for my parents, but I was able to save my sister.  I know that I'm not able to take care of her as much as I want to..."  He had to pause slightly, never being one to handle his own emotions very well, Nick needed a break before continuing with a strained voice, deciding to try and keep things as matter-a-factual as possible.  "I left her at the police department in Milwaukee before running into the woods myself, afraid of what they would do if they saw me with her.  If found a rusty axe outside a shed there, and with nothing left to live for... well..."  Nick's eyes fell to the floor again.  He was not sure if he should be more ashamed that he had tried to kill himself, or that he had failed.  "That's the last thing I remember."

 "A rusty axe. Well, your determination does you credit, if nothing else." Essex said, a touch wryly. "What is your name, young man?"

 The boy swallowed hard, he wasn't sure if it was due to the dry mouth caused from the drugs still connected to his arm, or a sudden spurt of nervousness that went through his entire body whenever the man next to him talked.  "Nicholas Gleason, sir."  He couldn't help but scan his eyes around the room, still trying to stop his head from spinning with his sudden waking and flood of information.  "Are you a doctor here?"

 "My name is Dr. Nathanial Essex, Nicholas. I'm a geneticist. One of my former students is your doctor, and he asked me to come in and consult on your case. You see, I've been studying mutants and mutation for over three decades, and like to think I have some skills in that area." Essex accent was clipped, his tone not attempting to be comforting, but factual, as he believed that truth was what was needed here, not platitudes. "I can't say without some research, but my assumption would be that following the traumatic events you witnessed, combined with the chemical imbalances associated with your change to wolf form, you suffered an episode which left you suicidal. It is not as uncommon as you might think."

 Essex leaned forward, his chin resting on top of his interlinked fingers. "The question, Nicholas, comes down to you. Do you still wish to end it all? Have you committed to the destruction of yourself over your guilt and your mutation?"

 Nick's attention once again fell to the sides of the bed.  No one had put it that way to him before.  Many thoughts continued to shuffle through his head as he tried to determine his own thoughts on the matter before he answered.  "I... well..."  Suddenly the answer came through to him as clear as day.  "No.  I don't want to die.  But..."  A smirk of sarcasm slowly spread across his face.  "What other options do I have?" He held up his restrained hand towards the doctor.  "I mean it doesn't really look like I'm the most accepted person." 

 "It is times like this I wonder how the race survived teenagehood at all." Essex said with a sigh. "Consider your situation dispassionately, Nicholas. You attempted to kill yourself and ended up in a hospital ward. Is the likely reason for the restraints the fact that you are a mutant, or that you are potentially a danger to yourself? Do take your time." 

 Nick let his mind wonder for a bit, although it didn't really take him too long to realize that Essex was right.  He again pushed his head back into the pillow behind him.  "But even if I'm safe here, I don't have anywhere to go after I'm released."  He slowly turned his head away from the ceiling, letting himself stare through the window of the hospital and out at the free space only a pane of glass away.  It was true, even after being released, what could he do?  His parents were both killed and his last interaction with non-mutants was when they tried to kill him and his entire family.

 "There you might be mistaken." Essex scrutinized the young man for a moment and then nodded. "Since you seem to not be looking for the first sharp edge you can find, I may be able to assist you. A friend of mine, Charles Xavier, runs an Institute dedicated to helping young mutants control their powers and find a way in the world. One thing you should understand about Charles is that he's the closest thing to a truly good man that you'll find in this world. I can't fathom the possibility that he would not be able to find a place for you, at least until you find your feet again and decide whether or not to stay long term."

 The door opened and Dr. Gordon walked in. He had a food tray in one hand, a pack of files under his arm, and coffee in the other. Essex relieved him of all three, but ushered him back to the door before he could exam Nick. "In good time." Was his only explanation to Alex as the other doctor left. Essex set the tray in front of Nick, and deftly released one of the restraints before sitting with the files and his coffee.

 "I would say the first priority is to contact the police about your sister, and make some inquiries into what has happened to your home. It may be a day or so before we can fly to New York." 

 Nick quickly put his free hand to good work, shoveling in as much food as possible in a short amount of time.  He had no real idea how long he had been out, but he did know one thing, he was hungry, and the food in front of him was the only thing that he could focus on for the time being.

 As the initial rush of the food frenzy began to wane, Gleason was finally able to focus once again on the situation at hand.  He turned towards the doctor at his side, any anxiety he had felt about him previously all but washed away.  "Thank you for everything."  He took some time to let the words settle in, both to let the situation calm at to allow for himself to begin to wrap his mind around what was going on.  "After we take care of the odds and ends here, would you be willing to go with me to this 'school'?  I don't want to be the shiny new toy to a bunch of super powered teachers..."

 "What makes you assume your teachers will be mutants, Nicholas? Something you must understand is that, while mutation is rare, it is by no means unique. Individuals make themselves unique, not mutant abilities." Essex said mildly, twisting the young man's misstatement to serve his own ends. "Charles' school is not a prison, or some kind of lab. You will be free to stay or go as you choose, but, I must warn you, entering that place with a pre-conceived notion about what it is or is not will not serve you well. To Charles, you will be a person first, a student second, and a mutant third. Not to insult you, young man, but I doubt that a seventeen year old from the Midwest counts as 'a shiny toy' anywhere in New York." His last line was delivered archly, and ironic.

 Nick began to breathe heavily.  This whole situation was a lot for him to take in all at once.  He knew that the next decision was a major stepping stone that would most likely going to change his life forever.  "Alright."  His voice was much calmer than even he expected.  He closed his eyes for a second as he tried to stop the room as well as his life from spinning out of control.  "What do I have to do?"

 "You have to finish your meal, while I do the same with my coffee and make a phone call." Essex said as he pulled out his phone and thumbed the number for Xavier's. He paused as it dialed, catching the young man's expression. "Really, Nicholas, it's nothing as complex or as sinister as you're thinking it must be."