Bedlam
“Hello.” He said softly, his mouth not moving but his voice clear as day.
She let out a little gasp before it all went black. Beatrice had fainted and now lay on the ground in a little bit of a crumble, tea and coffee all around.
Beatrice’s eyes opened slowly. What a weird dream this had all been, she thought as she rubbed her eyes gently before taking a look at the ceiling above her. Her head hurt and when she reached up to touch it she found a rather large square of gauze taped there. It was odd, but she didn’t think much of it until she sat up to see an unfamiliar room around her.
Sure the house had changed since she lived in it full time but this was not her house. Now that she thought of it, where were her sweater, shoes and purse? She looked around a bit before noticing a water bottle and note on the bedside table.
You fell.
I’ll explain.
I’ll be in the hall.
-H
The note was messy, like it had been rushed but it made Beatrice smile. Sure, she had no idea where she was and she should be scared but the fact that there was a note and a water and that she was clearly taken care of... how could she be scared of someone who would do that?
Beatrice took time to stand slowly, taking a sip of water after having completing said task. She quickly pulled her hair up into a pony tail, grabbing the hair tie off of her wrist. She got quite the head-rush when she flipped over, sitting back down for a moment to collect herself. She got onto her feet much quicker again, taking the water and the note with her.
In the hallway was the man from the coffee shop. He was sitting there, coat somewhere else and sweater crumples in his lap, working on his computer. His glasses had slipped a bit down on his nose and he was deep in though. Beatrice stood before him for a moment before clearing his throat.
“Um... H?” She asked softly, waiting for him to look up at her.
“Ah um.. Hank.” He said, shuffling himself around to look up at her. “Dr. Hank McCoy to be exact but Hank is fine... are you feeling alright?” Hank brought himself to his feet, folding his computer and sweater under one of his arms. He adjusted his glasses as he looked down at her.
“My head hurts a bit and I’m sort of hungry...” Beatrice looked up at him for a moment before looking away and playing with her fingers. “Also, it’s a bit cold but I don’t seem to have my sweater...?” She knew she was babbling a bit, but this was a rather weird situation. Hank shifted before responding, holding his sweater out to her.
“Your sweater is in the wash, you sort of spilled tea on it.” He smiled softly as he handed the sweater to her. “It’ll be big but you’ll be warm until yours is all clean. Why don’t we go sit? We can talk about what happened, yeah?”
Beatrice nodded slowly. She took the sweater and tentatively pulled it over her head. She nodded in response to his question, following after him as he lead the way to a small, out of the way, siting room. He ushered her to sit on a little couch and sat down across from her.
“Well, would you like me to just explain what happened?” Hank asked, putting his computer down on the coffee table. Beatrice nodded her head again, watching his movement. “You’ll just have to tell me what you remember alright? And I can take it from there.” Hank had a soft smile on his face as he spoke, his voice was gentle and kind which helped put Beatrice at ease.
"Well," Beatrice played with the sleeves of Hank's sweater as she thought. "Well, I remember you. When you complimented my sweater clips, that is... And then I remember sitting down to eat my cookies." Her stomach grumbled in response, rather hungry now that she hadn't eaten in some time. "And then I just remember waking up here." She nodded softly, looking back up at him.
"Well... Let's see," Hank pursed his lips as he thought, running a hand through his hair. "I suppose I should start with why you're here.. You sort of passed out?" He offered up a soft smile, trying to break the news a bit easier. "You hit your head, and the whole thing was sort of my fault so I couldn't just leave you there..." Hank found himself rambling a bit but was brought back into the moment when he noticed Beatrice shift uncomfortably in her seat. "Oh! No, it's not like that... We were talking and... Beatrice, right?" She nodded her head, watching him carefully. "Sorry... I may have looked at your ID... But anyway, Beatrice, you and I were talking but not out loud and I have a feeling that it was the first time you've done that with someone. Am I right?"
Beatrice took quite some time to gather herself before she spoke again.
"We spoke... not out loud?" Beatrice's voice shook gently as she looked into his eyes. Her expression changed from one of fear to one of shock as she caught on to what he was saying. "Oh no... I'm not.. not that it's bad but... I'm not one of those mutants or anything... Well not those mutants... I just..." She babbled on, trying to cover her words. She didn't want him to think she was racist or anything, she definitely didn't agree with the people who thought mutants and regular humans should be segregated, she just definitely didn't have anything special about her like that.
Thankfully for her, Hank found her babbling rather endearing and couldn't help but laugh gently. "Beatrice, you could hear what I was saying in my head. Normally that doesn't happen, unless I could project into your mind which I cannot."
"So... I can hear thoughts then..?" Beatrice tried to think of their interaction at the coffee shop. "Oh my gosh... I could hear you so clearly but you were inside and I was outside." Hank nodded his head.
"When you noticed that the first time, you passed out." Hank noted. "Now, I don't know too much about telepathy but I do know someone who does. Would you like to meet him Beatrice? I think it could help you understand everything that happened."
"Yes..?" Beatrice's answer was more of a question. "But, can it wait? I mean I don't even know what time it is-" She was cut off by Hank telling her that it was around 8:30. "Crap..!" She gasped out, covering her mouth. "I'm sorry, I just.. Do you know where my purse is? I need my phone, my sister is probably freaking out." Hank nodded his head and got up to retrieve her small bag.
When Beatrice opened her phone she was met with about 20 different text messages and a few less that happy voicemails from her sister. She groaned loudly and sat back in the chair, trying to manage a text reply that would save her some grief. Her fingers fluttered over the keys, tapping quickly as she wrote out a lengthy apology that said she would be home soon to explain. Hank watched her carefully, smiling to himself. Beatrice noticed this as she went to put her phone back in the bag, giving him a bit of a sideways glance.
"Sorry for staring, I'm just always amazed when people can type so fast. I've just got big fingers I guess, I've never been any good at using a phone." Hank offered up a genuine smile before standing. "Your clips are in your bag and your shoes are by the door, and you can borrow the sweater for now as I'm afraid yours won't be dry for a while and you seem to need to leave." He offered his hand to her to help her stand, smiling a bit wider as she accepted. "I'll drive you, if that's alright, and I put together some more gauze and such so you could replace your bandage later tonight and in the morning."
"Oh, you don't need to... well to do any of that. I can just walk, and the gauze well, that's what the drug store is for, isn't it?" Beatrice smiled as she looked at him. "The sweater though, I may have to borrow. It's probably colder than it was before." Hank shook his head with a smile.
"Take it, we have plenty of gauze and such lying around." He smiled as he looked down at her in his far too big sweater. "And you can walk if you want, but you don't know where you are and it's dark. You could get lost just on the property." Beatrice bit her lip gently before nodding.
"Alright, alright... thank you." She smiled wide up at him. With that, Hank lead Beatrice out though the maze of a house. Beatrice tried to take note of where they were going but goodness... this house was huge. There were so many bedrooms! Her mothers' house had five and she thought that was a rather high number, but this was like a dormitory or something. She followed Hank quietly, lost in her own thoughts until the cool air hit her and she realized they were outside.
Sitting in the circular curve at the top of the driveway was a black, 1970s Dodge Charger that looked like it was brand-new. Beatrice's eyes lit-up as she stopped where she was and stared. Before Hank even realized she wasn't following him he had gotten to the passenger side door. He opened it up and looked over at her with a grin.
"You like it, I take it?" He asked her, watching as she slowly walked over to his side. She was focused on the car and not him, but he found that particularly endearing. She let her hand run over the frame of the door.
"I've got a 74' beetle myself." Beatrice's smile was now directed up at Hank. "My mom loves vintage cars and I guess it sort of rubbed off on me." She let out a bit of a giggle before sliding into the car. Hank closed the door behind her and was soon sliding into the driver's side. "She's in great shape though, you must really take care of her." She commented, running her hand over the dash. Hank beamed proudly at this.
"I am a bit of an engineer so that definitely helps with the upkeep. Plus it's a rather relaxing way to escape work sometimes, to just come out here and work on my car." Hank started the car and they were soon making their way down the long driveway.