It was hard, watching the child you helped raise be in pain. Hank wanted nothing more than to suck up her pain and bear it himself so that her mind was no longer plagued with hurt. But alas the technology hadn’t been invented yet. He had settled in next to her, his chair locked into a slightly leaned-back position as Larissa lay on her side on the padded medical bed.
The medical ward was cold, he had tucked a blanket around her loosely, wanting clear access to her injury if something was wrong. She had been shot during the last X-Men mission. The young mutant fell into him the minute she stepped off the Black Bird. She had finally found peace in his arms.
One blue hand ran through her hair while his other held an old copy of The Adventures of Tom Swayer. Idly reading it to her once again; it had always made her pass out when she was a child and Hank was pleasantly surprised that it still worked.
“…Logan…” she whined breathlessly in her sleep. The mumbled slurred word finally caught Hank’s attention.
Yellow eyes shifted towards the young woman squirming in her sleep. Larissa had developed a bad habit, of bottling up her worry and anxiety as if she only had a limited supply. It had started when her sister left, and watching Janie join the brotherhood had caused Larissa to spiral. When the crying had finally stopped, the sleep-talking had begun. Hank was not surprised to learn that her worried thoughts shifted from her sister, who had finally returned home after a couple of years, to Logan.
Larissa shifted, nuzzling her pillow slightly as she sighed. “Wait…Logan,” she huffed out, mouth open and drooling as she slept.
Hank sighed, large thumb shifting to rub against her forehead gently. Letting it trail over her eyebrows and cheeks softly. A well-practiced movement that he had developed when she was little. When she still crawled into his bed because the mansion was just too big for the four of them.
In times like this, he could see her, the little girl who showed up on the front steps of the mansion, baby in arms. Blonde hair matted and twisted while she stared up at him, huffing that her sister was too heavy for her to carry anymore. Charles had caved quickly, eagerly taking in both children without a second thought.
A sound of pain drew Hank away from his reminiscing, blinking slightly as he looked down at her. Larissa was huffing, grunting as she rolled onto her back carelessly. His hand moved quickly, helping her ease onto her back to not tear at her stitches. The beeping of the heart monitor filled the air. Maybe it was overboard, but he’d rather know everything that was happening with her while she was downstairs.
It was self-sabotage, falling in love with a man like Logan.
He never stayed for long, and when he did stay he grew restless. There were still many things the other mutant was looking for. Pieces of himself scattered across the globe that he was trying to piece together. To find himself and where he fits in the world. Larissa was patient. Willing to help him where she could, waiting for him like a wife looking out onto the sea. Wondering when her sailor would return.
Sighing Hank ran a hand through his hair, Charles had called him a couple of months ago, when he was still in Washington, eager to catch up. It didn’t take long for Charles to speak about the girls. How Janie had found a nice apartment in New York, and how Larissa was spending her free time. Hank got to learn all about Larissa’s pinning. How Charles watched with a slight humor as Larissa followed Logan around like a lost puppy. Eager for his attention even though she tried to hide it.
The older mutant had called her. Logan had contacted her, saying he was going to stop by. Larissa had taken it to heart as if it were solid plains. Planning dinner that he would like, cleaning herself up a bit more. Polishing herself up for a gaze that would never come. The afternoon had turned into the evening, and the evening into the night. Logan had not made an appearance, and Larissa had crumpled into herself.
“A radiating sadness,” as Charles had put it.
“It is strange how often a heart must be broken before the years can make it wise,” Henry hummed lowly, hand returning to her hair. The Sara Teasdale quote rolled off his tongue sweetly.
There was only so much they could do to stop her from putting her energy into Logan. Young love never seemed to listen to reason. She wanted to be around him, to hear his stories and thoughts. The scientist hypothesized that she wanted to live that life. Roaming from state to state, town to town with nowhere in particular to go, but enjoyed the security of having a home more. Larissa had always enjoyed a routine. She liked teaching too much. Loving her students in the same way Charles loved all of his.
Hank stretched his spine slightly, yawning briefly as he looked down. Smiling slightly, he settled back down. Larissa had calmed down, arms spread wide as she relaxed. Chest rising and falling with a steady rhythm.
“Now sweetheart where were we,” Mccoy hummed lowly, brushing her hair back as his eyes roamed the page to find where he left off. Maybe there would be a chance in the morning to speak to her, but for now, he had a book to read.