Archive of Our Own ^beta

Some days were harder than others, but the past week had been particularly difficult with the recent influx of patients arriving on a daily basis: mothers with sick children, loners, wounded men, even those exhausted after a long journey and simply needing a place to rest. Despite being critically short-handed as of late, she never turned a single one of them away.

Not while they had nowhere else to go.

Rubbing the back of her hand across her forehead, Dr. Lara Nolan sighed as she looked over the depleted supplies in her stockroom. Usually, they had enough to last them at least two weeks, thanks to generous donations by those who sympathized with their cause, but they were in need of a new shipment. Soon. She only hoped that Claude would return with their latest shipment tomorrow instead of Friday…

"Doktor?"

She turned to see Elias, one of her nurses who had vibrant orange eyes, peeking through the doorway.

"New family has arrived," he said, his German accent very pronounced.

Her mind instantly shifted gears. "Children?"

"Ja. Zwei."

Stepping out of the stockroom, Lara followed as Elias led her back to main entryway, listening while he filled her in on their conditions. Mother well, but her two children—both girls—sick with fevers. Along the way, they passed several other patients who were either resting or receiving care from other nurses, and while some appeared human on the surface, others had physical traits that clearly displayed their mutant status. All of her patients here were mutants; she'd set up this sanctuary for the express purpose of helping those who needed assistance away from the human world, especially for those who were on the run due to human persecution.

Crossing into the receiving room that acted as an entryway, Lara immediately saw the new family, but also threw a quick glance at the man who was still sitting in the far corner. He'd come in hours ago with a wounded leg, but was continuing to refuse help, and as she walked by, he pulled his hood further down over his face. Releasing a patient breath, Lara went over to the family, hardly fazed by the patterns of green scales outlining the faces of the twin girls.

The mother, however, seemed apprehensive. This was not unusual; being human herself, not everyone was willing to trust her immediately. Matters like this had to be handled delicately. "Sprichst du Englisch?" She asked. When the mother shook her head no, she asked, "Deutsche?" Receiving a nod, she asked for Elias to translate while she introduced herself. "My name is Dr. Nolan, and I want you to know that you're safe here. Can you tell me your names...?"

After several minutes of questioning, Lara took time to check the vitals of the two little girls—whose names she'd learned were Lila and Ingrid. Thankfully, they seemed to be displaying classic symptoms of upper respiratory infections, which were quite common for children their age, which meant their treatment would be relatively simple. As a precaution, though, she had Elias use his x-ray vision to scan their respiratory systems, making sure there weren't any abnormalities they might have missed. Determining that nothing appeared out of the ordinary, she gave a few verbal instructions to Elias, who nodded and proceeded to go over treatment instructions with the mother.

Lara stood back, listening for a moment before turning back to the man in the corner. He was still keeping his head low, but that didn't stop her from crossing the room to him once more. "Herr?" She said. No response. "Herr? Verstehst du mich?"

"You know, your accent is quite muddled."

At that, she lifted a brow. It was the first time he'd spoken directly to her, and up until now, he'd only been speaking in German. His English was very distinct. Very clear. "And this offends you?" She asked calmly, reaching for a chair on the adjacent wall.

"Merely an observation," he said, still not looking at her.

"Hmm," she murmured, pulling the chair in front of him. "German's a bit more difficult for me pick up than the romance languages," she admitted, " but it's hard to immerse yourself when you have to keep track of five or six others on a daily basis." Taking a seat, she folded her hands in her lap. "My name is Dr.—"

"I've heard you introduce yourself," he interrupted, "multiple times throughout the day." It was then that he lifted his head, though his face remained shrouded by that hood. "Dr. Nolan."

For a moment, she simply stared at him, only able to discern the outline of his face in the faint light of the room. Then she gestured with a nod of her head. "You gonna let me look at that leg now?"

"It is of no consequence."

"I beg to differ."

"Beg if you wish," he replied tersely, "but all I require is a place to rest for a few hours, and then I shall be on my way. Surely, your attentions would be better directed elsewhere, Doctor."

She took a breath, releasing it slowly through her nose. "I have no doubt that your animosity towards humans is justified. But you walked into my clinic with a bleeding wound, and a pronounced limp, so the very least you can do is let me make sure it's not infected so that you actually can walk out of here later on. So are you going to let me examine your leg, or not?"

Though his face was mostly obscured, she could tell he was staring at her, continuing to challenge her silently, but she wasn't backing down either. Not while he was foolishly putting his health at risk.

Soon enough, though, she detected the sagging of his shoulders as he sighed. "Very well."

Good, she thought, bending down to get a better look at his left leg. His jeans were tattered down toward the cuff, and underneath, she could see smears of dark red covering his skin. "What's your name?" She asked.

"Ben."

"Ben," she repeated, taking two ragged pieces of denim in her hands, "do you mind?"

"No."

Yanking them apart, she tore the fabric upward several inches, giving her a better view of how extensive his injury was. A good deal of blood had dried as it dripped down from his calf, but the wound was still red and wet at its center. Based on the gashing patterns, she already had an idea of what she was looking it. "This appears to be an animal bite," she surmised, looking up at him. "What were you bitten by?"

"A wolf," he answered.

She gave a nod, unsurprised by his answer. Wolf sightings were not uncommon across Europe, and based on the freshness of his wound, Ben must have crossed paths with one out in the wilderness of the district. "This needs to be cleaned immediately," she said, sitting back in her chair. "It's hard to say right now if you're dealing with any kind of infection, but that'll be easier to determine afterwards."

Seeing him incline his head, Lara left briefly to grab the supplies she needed. As she returned to the receiving room with gloved hands, she was met by a nurse who was assisting a new arrival through the entrance. The elder man was holding a blood soaked cloth to his forehead, and when he started speaking Spanish, Lara easily fell into conversation with him. After exchanging a few more words, the man thanked her, and the nurse led him to over to one of the empty chairs.

Returning to Ben, Lara used the small crate she'd carried her supplies in to carefully prop his left leg, then sat back down to begin the task of cleaning his wound. At times, her hands stilled when she heard him hiss softly in pain, and she would soothe him quietly before continuing. Once she'd washed the blood away from his skin, she traded her cloth for a small antiseptic-soaked sponge, dabbing gently at all the visible sources of bleeding.

"Where did you encounter the wolf?" She asked.

"As I was crossing the Polish border into Saxony. It was late last night or early this morning; not entirely sure."

She nodded. "Through wooded land?"

"Yes."

To avoid potential human contact, she thought. And coming in through Poland on foot meant he was obviously trying to escape something—or someone—without being detected. A common story she'd run into over the years. "One lone wolf? Or was there a pack?"

"Just the one," he winced a bit as the antiseptic stung him, "but she might have had pups nearby. I don't fault her for trying to protect them."

"Nor would I," she commented, pulling the sponge back to look over the affected area. "Still quite red around the actual bite marks," she observed, "but the swelling isn't severe. That's a good sign. Elias?" She turned her head, "I'm gonna need some fresh gauze pads when you have a moment." All the while, she felt Ben's eyes on her, no doubt scrutinizing her every move, and she released a breath through her nose.

After a time, he asked, "So why help mutants?"

Her brow arched at the inquiry, but she continued cleaning. "If you found your way here, then you already know the purpose behind our cause."

"Yes," he affirmed, "but I want to know why it is that you choose to help mutants, Doctor. Why it is that you would risk your career and potential well being in order to help us. Is this out of pity? Regret?"

"I have my reasons," she said, setting the sponge aside as Elias returned to hand her the gauze pads she'd requested. "Let's just leave it at that."

A pause. Then, "You lie to them, you know."

Her eyes shot up. "Excuse me?"

"When you tell them that they're safe here," he said, keeping his voice low. "Perhaps it may seem a courtesy to you, but how can you make such a promise to them? As far as I can tell, you've no visible means of protection. No weapons, no guards—for all you know, there could be factions of anti-mutant militia outside at this very moment, and there's nothing you could do to stop them from swarming your little operation and shutting it down. What then happens to the patients in your care?" He leaned forward slightly, and the way the light now shone through the front window caused his eyes to gleam beneath the hood. "The reality is that there are threats to mutants in every corner of the world, and while you and a select few may be sympathetic to our plights, how can you be sure that some of the humans on your staff aren't also harboring insidious intentions towards us? How can you honestly guarantee our protection?"

She'd maintained a neutral expression the entire time he'd spoken, though couldn't completely ignore the tiny flicker of anger beneath her chest. "I can't always guarantee it, but we're limited in our resources, so I don't have the luxury of doing extensive checks on those who volunteer their time here. I have to rely on my gut and put my trust in people, and so far, my instincts have served me well. Telling my patients they're safe here is not a lie; it's a reassurance I know they need to hear when they're tired, and scared, and feel like they have nowhere else to go, and I will do everything I can to make sure they feel safe. So like hell will you—or anyone else—ever accuse me of being a liar."

Silence lingered between them, and the longer she looked at him, the more she was starting to make out the strong lines of his features. The angle of his jaw; the slope of his nose; and the intensity that was undeniably radiating from his gaze…

He gave a bare tilt of his head. "And you would put that blind faith into helping me?"

"I haven't turned you away yet, have I?"

Somehow, she could tell that those eyes narrowed. "It can be just as dangerous," he all but whispered, "admitting certain mutants into your care."

"A fact I'm well aware of."

"Indeed," his hand tightened into a fist, and Lara gasped quietly as the metal eartubes of her stethoscope suddenly pressed into either side of her neck. "I've killed people like you before. Humans. Many of them; some younger than yourself," the tubes squeezed a bit harder, pinching ever closer to her windpipe. "It was easy."

Despite the way her pulse was racing, Lara managed to keep herself calm, not wanting to alarm anyone else in the immediate vicinity. Drawing in a breath, she kept her gaze steady on him. "You think you're the first mutant to come in here and threaten my life?" He blinked, and she shook her head gently. "I'm not concerned about what you've done in your past. That's not my jurisdiction. You came here because you're injured, and I don't deny anyone who legitimately needs my help."

Ben's eyes continued to hold hers, but it wasn't long before the eartubes relented, and the stethoscope sagged against her neck as if it had never been disturbed. Releasing a breath, she ignored the impulse to touch her neck, knowing she hadn't been harmed, and proceeded to finish the task of bandaging his leg.

"Your bandages should be changed every four hours to help keep it clean," she advised, securing the gauze with one last strip of medical tape. "I'm also going to have Elias bring you some ibuprofen. It'll help reduce the swelling and signs of potential fever." She paused, resting her hands on her knees. "You're not obligated to stay. You're free to go whenever you feel well enough to leave, but I strongly advise you stay and at least rest for a while, and get yourself some food when you feel ready to eat. You'll need your strength if you're gonna get yourself wherever it is you need to go."

For the longest time, he said nothing, but then he leaned back in his chair with a sigh. "I will consider this."

A shimmer of relief rippled through her, and she offered him a small smile as she stood up. "You let us know if you need anything, Ben, okay?"

As he inclined his head in response, Lara turned to see two men entering the receiving room, one sagging heavily against the other.

"Doktor, bitte!" The one who was conscious—and not sporting a long, brown tail—called out as she rushed over to them.

"Elias?" She called, and soon, her nurse was rushing to her side, helping her translate as they determined what was wrong with their newest patient.

And in the back of her mind, she had a feeling that Ben's eyes continued to follow her every move.

TBC...

Once she'd pinned her hair back into a loose bun, Lara made her way out of her quarters and out into the vast inner chamber. The abandoned hall-house on the outskirts of the district had served as their covert facility for the past five years, a refuge that was well-obscured by the hilly terrain of the region. While parts of the building itself had been well worn over time, they'd been able to modify the interior space to provide their patients with what they needed, including sleeping quarters, a large dining area, and a makeshift surgery unit through one of the stone doorways. Far from perfect, but enough to give any mutant in her care the chance that they deserved.

Passing the dining area where a few were already eating, Lara headed for the cots lining the far wall, most of which were still occupied; some were curtained off in order to instill a sense of privacy, especially for those with young children. It was a ritual she went through every morning, checking in on those who'd stayed overnight and making sure they continued receiving the care that they needed. Walking along, she noticed two of her nurses already following suit, and she caught a glimpse of Chloe as she led a dressed young man away from his cot.

Jacques, she thought. A sick mutant from Nimes who'd found his way to them three days ago. He must have finally felt well enough to leave.

After checking in with Lila and Ingrid, whose fevers had broken sometime during the night, Lara moved on to the next pair of cots, seeing that the first was empty. The second, however, was occupied by a man sleeping atop the blanket, and upon seeing him, she felt herself pause. At first glance, his appearance didn't register, but her suspicions were immediately confirmed when he caught sight of the bandage on Ben's left leg.

Drawing nearer, her gaze lingered on him a moment longer. Gone was his hooded jacket from yesterday, allowing her a chance to really see the well-defined features of his face, which were hardly obscured by the layer of stubble covering his cheeks. Seeing him resting so peacefully, though, Lara knew that now was not the time to disturb him, walking on to the next curtained—

"Doctor."

She glanced back at the sound of his voice, seeing that his eyes were open and fixed on her. And something about his gaze had her tilting her head slightly in response.

"Good morning," she greeted, turning back to him. "I see you decided to stay after all."

"Didn't seem much point in leaving if I have to rely on this for a while yet," he gestured at the metal crutch propped against his cot.

No, there wouldn't have been, but she hardly felt the need to verify that. "How are you feeling?"

"Like veritable hell," he conceded, his face straining as he attempted to sit up.

"Wait," she said, "we can elevate your shoulders." Bending down, she released the cylindrical catch beneath the head of his cot, rotating it like a small crank to gradually raise the upper portion. Once he was sitting more upright, she locked it in place. "Better?"

He looked up at her—and it was the first time she noticed the striking pale blue color of his eyes. "Yes."

It was only the briefest of moments, but that was more than enough time for her to take in the sight of him with his fair skin, his russet brown hair, the square cut of his jaw line. Those eyes; so, so striking…

Quietly clearing her throat, she broke her gaze away and nodded towards his leg. "When was your bandage last changed?"

"Sometime in the middle of the night. Elias heeded your instructions."

He always did. "Mind if I see how it's doing?"

"Do I have a choice?"

She looked at him seriously. "Always."

He stared at her, seeming to analyze the validity of her assertion, but eventually gave a nod of assent. Slipping on a fresh pair of gloves that she took from her pocket, Lara took a seat beside him on the edge of the cot, pulling back the tape and the blood-soaked gauze with great care. Though the wound still appeared red and damp in the center, there didn't appear to be any new or worsening signs of swelling.

"This is already looking better," she murmured, carefully inspecting every inch of the mark. "We'll keep an eye on it, but I think you've managed to avoid any kind of infection." As if on cue, Chloe came by with a rolling cart of medical supplies, stopping by to leave a crate for her. She also asked a few questions regarding another patient, to which Lara advised her how to best handle the situation until she could get over there. Once she took her leave, Lara pulled out the materials she needed before setting the crate on the floor.

"This might still sting," she mentioned, bringing an antiseptic sponge to clean his leg.

"No worse than what it was," Ben said before hissing sharply.

Lara waited, blowing on it gently to take the edge off before dabbing at it again. "So where are you heading, Ben?" She asked, still focused on her task. "I assume you had a destination in mind before you ended up coming here." When he didn't answer, she looked up at him. "I'm not fishing for information; it's just that we try to arrange some sort of transportation for our patients if they have a long way to go."

She could detect the clenching of his jaw beneath his cheeks. "Truth be told, I'm not entirely sure."

"No?"

He shook his head. "All that mattered was leaving everything behind, and wherever that takes me…" He spread his hands.

Despite the lack of details, Lara nodded. "Whatever we can do to help, then," she assured, placing fresh gauze over his wound. "Would you object if I have Elias bring you some clean clothes? We should have something that fits you."

"You're really not going to ask, are you?"

"About what?"

"My mutant powers." She lifted her eyes to his. "Surely, it's one of the most burning questions you ask of everyone here."

She lifted her brows slightly. "You've already demonstrated that for me yesterday."

"And that's the end of it?"

"It's not a necessary question for me to ask, unless there's a medical complication that could potentially arise with your abilities. Are there any I should know about?"

His brows knit. "No."

"Okay. So long as it doesn't prevent me from doing my job, it's really none of my business."

The steadiness of his gaze…something about it had her momentarily captivated, and she detected the barest tilt of his head as his eyes remained locked with hers.

"We're not all the same," she heard herself say with quiet conviction, "even though it may seem that way sometimes. But you can trust me, Ben. I mean it."

A long minute seemed to pass between them, but when he visibly relaxed back against his pillow, Lara released a breath and proceeded to finish bandaging his leg.

"Should only need a few more days to heal," she advised, smoothing the last piece of tape in place. "You may still have some trouble putting your full weight on it, so keep using that crutch until you can get around comfortably. While I'm here," she said, removing her gloves, "you mind if I check your vitals? Make sure everything else looks alright?"

With his acquiescing nod, she set about getting readings on his blood pressure and body temperature, both of which were normal. "Okay," she reached for his left wrist, "Just need to get your pulse now—"

Turning it over, she froze, her eyes honing on the black numbers scrawled into the flesh of his forearm: 214782. Oh God…Not a tattoo, but a fucking ID label. A reminder of what he'd no doubt suffered at the hands of humans. A wave of sorrow washed over her as she just sat there, cupping his wrist, but for his sake, she didn't let it show.

Ben, however, knew where her mind had gone. "You should know that I—"

She held up a hand to silence him. "I didn't ask," she said softly. "That's not why you're here, and I'm not going to make anyone relive that God damn nightmare."

When he became quiet yet again, she released a slow breath and proceeded to press her fingers to the pulse point on his wrist. Though the numbers on his arm were still in plain view, she pushed all other thoughts from her mind, focusing on counting the beats to herself. No matter what anger or sadness might be lingering in her heart, her patient's well-being needed to come first. Determining that his heart rate was normal as well, she pulled the stethoscope from around her neck.

"Alright," she moved a bit closer as she inserted the eartips into her ears, "check to see how your lungs sound." Pressing the chestpiece to his skin, she instructed, "Breathe in," hearing his deep intake of breath, "and out." On the exhale, she moved the chestpiece around, listening each time he breathed. While doing so, she couldn't help but dwell on how well-defined his muscles were beneath her hand, her eyes drifting of their own accord to see the skin exposed at the vee of his dark shirt. At the same time, she caught a glimpse of the silver chain disappearing beneath the fabric there, though she wasn't sure what significance it held. Daring a glance at him, she saw that his eyes were still trained on her, and she averted her gaze as she had him lean forward, pressing the piece to his back and having him repeat the breathing process a few more times.

"Everything sounds clear," she reported, easing back as she pulled the stethoscope from her ears. "You're in good health overall, and that'll help ensure your leg heals properly. You should really try to get some breakfast soon. The kitchen is just over there," she indicated over her shoulder, "and they'll be able to get you something. Is there anything you'd like at the moment?"

"Coffee," was his immediate answer.

She gave a small smile. "That can definitely be arranged. I'll have someone bring it by for you."

"Perhaps you would benefit from some yourself, Doctor. You look tired."

His observation prompted a humorless laugh. "That's hardly unusual," she stood, grabbing her crate from the floor, "but that is on my agenda. I have to get back to my rounds, but rest whenever you can today. We'll be around if there's anything else you need."

Those clear, bright eyes never left hers. "Thank you."

"Bitte schön," she replied, not even attempting to stress a German accent this time.

That drew a half-smirk from him. "That was appallingly bad."

At that, she smiled. "At least now I know you have a sense of humor, Ben."

The faint smile he gave in reply warmed her deeply, and even as she left to check on her next patient, the sight of it continued to linger in her mind.

Heaving a sigh, Lara rested her elbows on her desk, holding her forehead in one hand. "And you're stuck where, exactly?"

"Just outside Strasbourg," Claude replied over the phone, "village limits. Security 'as tightened at ze border, and 'aving two vehicles to transport, we 'ave to move with great discretion. Eet's taking more time zan we'd like, but we 'ave little choice if we don't want to be detained."

Shit, her mind hissed. Being native to France, Claude was usually pretty good at navigating his way through the country with their supplies, but it didn't surprise her to hear that security had been heightened at the borders as of late. Since the mutant incident in Cairo last month, agents across the continent had been ridiculously on-edge, making it much more difficult to get new supplies delivered on time. The political tensions that were prevalent in their region didn't make things any easier. "About how much longer?" She asked, leafing through the inventory pages in her oversized binder. "We're critically low on antibiotics as it is, and you know that's what typically goes first."

"I know, and I'm sorry, Lara, but it may be anoz'er two days before we arrive."

Blowing a breath through her lips, she nodded, even though he wouldn't see. "Alright, then that's the best we can do right now. Get here when you can, and no matter what, Claude, please: just be careful."

"You 'ave my word. I'll call you if we run into anymore delays."

"Yeah. I'll be here if you need anything." And with that, she hung up the phone, resting her head in her hands. She could only pray that those delays wouldn't come true, but that was such a crapshoot lately. It was actually because of the Cairo incident that they'd seen such a surge in patients seeking their help, particularly for those facing persecution over the actions of only a handful of mutants.

And she hated entertaining the thought that it might only get worse for them as time went on.

A small clink on the desk had her lifting her head, seeing the metal thermos that had suddenly appeared beside her. She blinked, and as she looked over to the doorway, she wasn't surprised to see Ben standing there, leaning on his crutch as he slowly lowered his right hand. He'd changed into a flannel shirt and dark gray scrub pants, and seeing him now, Lara noted how tall he really was.

"You never did get your coffee earlier," he said, his stoic expression never changing.

Something about that caused her to take pause. True, she'd forgotten about it entirely when four new patients had arrived that morning, but for him to take notice of something so trivial…For some reason, she felt her heart flutter unexpectedly as his gaze continued to hold hers.

"Thank you," Lara managed softly, and he inclined his head in reply before turning to hobble away. She watched him go, pleased to see that his limp was not nearly as prominent as it had been the previous night.

Smiling gently, she unscrewed the thermos cap and poured the hot liquid into it, silently grateful for Ben's unexpected gesture.

TBC....

Leaving the man to the further care of her nurses, Lara released a sigh, rubbing a hand at the back of her neck as she walked back along the line of cots. Her rounds had been completed for the morning, and thankfully, there hadn't been any new arrivals to add to her workload. That could always change at a moment's notice, but in the meantime, she chose to relish the relative quiet of the day so far. Glancing at the cots, she noted how many had been stripped of their beddings, since six more patients had been discharged earlier. It was a thought that she took comfort in, that despite their lack of resources, there were still so many instances of success in treating their patients.

One cot in particular had her pausing briefly—not stripped, but currently empty. Ben's cot. She hadn't been the one to check his vitals this morning, but looking over towards the dining area, she caught sight of him sitting at one of the long wooden tables, gazing out the nearby window as he sipped from his mug. Seeing him sitting there, she smiled to herself. There was something so peaceful about how quietly he was sitting there all alone, the gentle light spilling in just enough to highlight the rich color of his hair. So serene. One of those rare moments she wished she could freeze in time in order to prolong the memory.

Considering all you've probably been through, she mused as she continued to make her way past the tables, your heart deserves peace.

As if hearing her thoughts, he turned and locked eyes with her, causing Lara to stop dead in her tracks. She swallowed hard.

"Dr. Nolan," he said, "do you have a moment?"

Lifting her brows, she automatically went into physician mode as she walked over to him. "Is it your leg? Is something wrong?"

But he calmly raised a hand. "Nothing that requires medical attention, no. I was just hoping you'd be able to have a seat and join me for a bit. That is, unless your duties dictate for you to be elsewhere at this time."

It was an invitation she hadn't been prepared for, considering how standoffish he'd been initially. Nevertheless, she felt herself smile. "Actually," she threw a glance around the inner chamber, "considering how quiet it's been, I suppose I do have time for a break."

There seemed to be a flicker of approval in his gaze as he motioned for her to sit across from him, and Lara lowered herself to the bench seat.

"You looked so at ease over here," she commented, resting her elbows on the table. "Surprised you'd want to be bothered."

"On the contrary: I actually prefer a stimulating chat to the quiet offered here. Pity you don't have a chess set available as well."

She smiled softly at the suggestion, then nodded at the metal thermos sitting next to him. "I see you've had no trouble getting your coffee."

"Ah, except that this," he placed a hand on the thermos, "is not the same as what's served in your kitchen. I took the liberty of brewing this myself."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Suffice to say, as well meaning as your staff is, they have abhorrent coffee making skills."

She huffed out a laugh. "Well then, it's good thing that you're your own gourmet barista when the occasion calls for it."

He half-smiled, tilting his head slightly. "Would you care for some? I think you'll find it far more palatable than what you're typically used to here."

Honestly, any kind of coffee sounded heavenly. Not to mention the fact that her curiosity was definitely peaked. "Please."

Removing the thermos cap, she could already detect the fragrant aroma as he filled it for her.

"Might be a bit strong," he mentioned, handing it over to her, "but it's what I'm used to."

Then this will be interesting, she thought. She was not usually one to take her coffee strong, but she was willing to give almost anything a try. It would especially be interesting to learn some of his preferences compared to hers. Raising the cap, she toasted, "To your health."

"And yours," he nodded.

Bringing it to her lips, she took an experimental sip, her eyebrows rising as a sharp, rich flavor flooded over her tongue. "Hmm," she swallowed, bringing a hand to her chest. "Goodness: that is strong."

"I know many aren't used to it—"

"No no, it's good. I just wasn't expecting that." She stared down at the dark liquid, its overwhelmingly pleasant scent wafting up to her nose. "That's definitely a slow sipping coffee, though."

"That's the point: the longer it takes you to drink, the longer your conversation will last."

She grinned, detecting the subtle humor behind his eyes as she took another small sip, letting it linger on her tongue a bit longer this time. She murmured approvingly, noting that it really was good.

"It's how my mother used to prepare it when I was growing up." Lara looked at him, but he'd carefully averted his gaze. "It was an acquired taste, of course, and stubborn children like me take a long time to get used to something like that. But there's so little I have to remember her by, and something like this just…" He sighed. "It helps keep her alive in my mind."

Lara traced her thumb along the edge of the cap. The memory he'd shared was so personal, and she'd hardly expected him to offer that kind of information to her. She just wasn't sure she deserved the kind of reassurance that it made her feel. "Where are you from, Ben? Originally?"

"Düsseldorf, on the west side of Germany. Even as a child, it was one of the richest and most prosperous cities in the nation, and my parents were able to establish a decent life for us there for a time." He paused, taking a sip of his coffee. Then, "We lived there until I was fourteen."

Recalling the numbers on his arm, she didn't have to ask where they'd ended up after that. Not wanting him to have to dwell on those memories, she piped up and said, "I bet your mother had a very nice smile." He looked at her, and she felt her stomach stir. "Judging by what I've seen of yours so far, that is." True, she had yet to see a full-on smile, but the hints she'd seen now and then had managed to soften his features in the most pleasant way.

It took a moment, but then the corners of his mouth lifted. "The kindest," he stressed, "always touched her eyes. One that had the uncanny ability to convey reassurance to me at exactly the right time." It was then that he frowned, flicking his eyes downward. "To be honest, I'm not sure why I'm telling you any of this, but…" He trailed off with a furrow of his brow.

But Lara, not minding in the slightest, was already giving him a warm smile. "I appreciate that you did."

Once again, he lifted his eyes to hers, and she held his gaze as she took another sip from her cap. For a while, neither of them said anything, but there wasn't anything uncomfortable about the silence. The glimpses into his past had been brief, but she liked hearing him talk. It wasn't just the depth of his tone, but also the underlying fondness in his words as he'd spoken about his mother that had struck her. Made her want to keep listening to him talk about her.

For the rest of the day, if you so wish, she thought, opening her mouth to—

"Dr. Nolan!"

Lara snapped her head around as Chloe came rushing from the receiving room, followed closely by two other adults—a man and a woman—a child cradled in the man's arms. Even from a distance, she could see the looks of urgency on all their faces, and she all but slammed the cap down on the table as she jumped up from her seat.

"What have we got?" She called as the man came to lay the child on one of the nearest empty tables, and her heart dropped at the sight of the boy's ghostly white complexion. "Oh, sweetie," she breathed, bringing a hand to cup his cheek. Despite his shivers, his skin was burning with fever.

"Shortness of breath, chills, he was coughing heavily when they brought him in…"

As Chloe rattled off his symptoms, Lara half-listened to the worried words being sputtered by the couple, her mind scrambling to place their accent.

"Mój chłopak," the woman cried. "Mój syn jest chory! Proszę, pomóżcie nam!"

"Doktorze," said the man, "co możesz zrobić?"

Polish, she thought. Not a language she had a good enough grasp on, but as she listened to his lungs with her stethoscope, she knew that communication would be crucial at this time. "Chloe," she pulled the tips from her ears, "how's your Polish as of late?"

She shook her head. "Only pleasantries at best," she admitted. "Discussing medical information is still something that's well beyond my ability. I haven't even been able to confirm if these are his parents."

Shit, she mentally hissed. The only one on staff who could interpret for her was Elias, but she'd sent him into the city over an hour ago to run a few errands for her. That would make things difficult in terms of conveying any kind of prognosis to them. "Sir," she lifted her hands in an attempt to quiet them, but they continued to rapidly fire questions at her. "Sir? Ma'am? Uh… proszę." God, was she even pronouncing that right? "Proszę—"

"If I may, Doctor," she turned at the sound of Ben's voice, seeing him approach with his crutch in tow, "with your permission, I may be of some assistance."

She blinked as he came up next to her. "You speak Polish?"

Without missing a beat, he turned to the couple. "Pan? Szanowna pani? Wiem, że bardzo się martwisz, ale potrzebujemy cię, aby się uspokoić. Potrzebujemy od ciebie informacji, abyśmy mogli mu pomóc…"

Lara listened with quiet fascination. He'd slipped into the language so seamlessly, and the way their faces lit up when he'd started speaking sent a pang of gratitude straight to her heart.

Once they'd responded, he turned back to her. "When you're ready."

Looking at him, she hoped he could sense the thanks she was silently conveying, and as she turned to face the couple, she proceeded to ask them a series of pertinent questions. At her side, Ben interpreted for her, waiting patiently while they replied before reporting back to her. Their names were Jakub and Irena, and indeed, the boy was their son, Stefan; nine years old; they'd been traveling across Poland, and he'd come down with a cold five days ago, but his condition had only continued to deteriorate since then. High fever, refusal to drink, heavy coughing, complaints of chest pains...

Hearing that last bit of information made her jaw clench. Christ, of all times to be without penicillin… "Has he had this cough the entire time?"

"Not to this extent," Ben said, still listening to Irena, "but it's become worse over the past few days, and as of this morning, he started having difficulty breathing." As if on cue, the boy began coughing harshly, his torso lifting off the table from the force of it.

"Easy, Stefan," she soothed, placing a hand on his shoulder. After several seconds, though, it was clear that he was struggling to breathe, and a sense of dread began to settle deep within the pit of her stomach. "We need to get him to ICU," she said, glancing at Chloe. "He needs oxygen. Now."

"On it," Chloe acknowledged, already calling for another nearby nurse to assist her.

Ben was already explaining the situation to the parents, and despite the looks of worry they exchanged, Jakub picked up his son once more, following quickly as the two nurses encouraged them away from the dining area.

As they left, Lara turned to lock eyes with Ben, somehow knowing that she didn't even need to ask.

"Lead the way, Doctor," he told her without hesitation.

Drawing in a breath, Lara headed for the stone doorway on the left side of the inner chamber, her ears very aware of the steady chink of Ben's crutch as he followed closely behind.

The surgery unit they'd rigged up also doubled as an ICU, allowing them a private place to treat critical cases such as this. It had taken the better part of an hour, but they'd managed to stabilize the boy, who lay upon one of the empty gurneys with an IV in his arm and an oxygen mask situated over his face. Though it helped him breathe a bit easier, it didn't stop him from coughing, and as he hacked yet again, his eyes winced shut in pain. Holding the chestpiece against him, Lara listened to the thick rattle of phlegm in his young lungs until his coughs subsided, keeping her expression carefully controlled as she pulled back. The next few hours would be critical, and she could only hope that they'd somehow be able to help him overcome his bought of pneumonia without the use of antibiotics.

Removing the stethoscope from her ears, she caught the gentle murmurs of Irena, who hadn't left her son's side since they'd brought him in. Lara still couldn't understand what she was saying, but based on the reverent bow of her head, she assumed they were prayers. Sighing through her nose, she placed a hand on the gurney next to him, and as if sensing this, Stefan peeled his eyes open, looking at her with such exhaustion in his features. Feeling her heart ache, she gave him a reassuring smile, still admiring the small, jewel-like object embedded in the middle of his forehead. A physical trait that, according to his father, had prevented them from seeking treatment at any hospitals. It was such a vibrant shade of blue. So beautiful, and yet how starkly it stood out against the paleness of his skin.

"You rest now," she said softly, even if he couldn't understand.

Those grey eyes held hers for a long time, then he was furrowing his brow as he closed them. "Mat…ka…"

Irena placed a hand on his shoulder, speaking to him quietly, and Lara lifted her eyes to where the two men were sitting across the room. They were still speaking amongst themselves, and at one point, Jakub removed his hat to rub a hand over his strained face. He, too, had a gem adorning his forehead, one that was very similar to his son's. As she watched them, her heart swelled. Not only had Ben been instrumental in helping her communicate with the family, but he'd also taken it upon himself to continue talking at length with them. About what, she didn't know, but his involvement seemed to provide them with an elevated degree of comfort that she alone might not have been able to achieve. To say she was grateful seemed far too simple, but there was no other word for it. Not when it came to helping her patients.

With that thought, her smile gradually faded as she felt a heavy ache in her chest. Please hurry, Claude…

Knowing there was little else she could do right now, she decided it was best to give the family time to themselves. There were other patients she needed to attend to, and her nurses wouldn't hesitate to find her if there were any changes in the boy's condition. As she came around to the other side of the gurney, she paused beside Irena, hesitating only briefly before laying a hand on her arm. She didn't look at her, but after a moment, Irena's hand slowly covered hers, and Lara could feel her gentle, responding squeeze.

"Dziękujemy," she whispered.

Despite the language barrier between them, that one was a phrase Lara instantly recognized. Letting her hand slip away from her arm, she spared one last glance at Ben and Jakub, who remained engrossed in conversation as she headed towards the exit. Without another word, she passed through the stone doorway, a mental checklist of who she needed to see already forming in her mind.

It was well after ten o'clock when Lara stepped outside the front entryway of the hall-house, utterly spent from the day's activities. In addition to making her typical rounds, a new family had arrived in the early part of the evening, most of its members suffering from symptoms of influenza. She'd been on her feet for nearly five straight hours seeing to their care, and now that things had quieted down, she desperately needed a break.

After all, it was hard to say if her day was truly over, and she simply needed a moment away from the somber atmosphere within.

Releasing a sigh, she wrapped her arms around herself, warding off the slight chill in the air. Out here, the sounds of nocturnal insects echoed all around, a steady rhythmic chorus of chirps that was soothing to her ears, but it was the beauty of the night sky that truly had her captivated. It was so incredibly clear here, those stars stretching on for miles in every direction, only growing dimmer in the light of the waning crescent moon to the south. Such a breathtaking sight, and one she took time to appreciate whenever she had the chance. And yet…it wasn't enough to distract her from the anxieties that continued to plague her mind. It wasn't just Stefan's condition, but he was certainly at the forefront of her thoughts. The last time she'd checked on him, he'd been resting, albeit not very peacefully. Between his shallow breaths and the perspiration beading at his hairline, it had broken her heart to see him in such a state. Even now, she couldn't ignore the swelling ache beneath her chest, and she closed her eyes against the burning pain.

God, what she would give to hear some good news from Claude...

"You carry a great deal of tension in your shoulders when you're worried about something."

At the sound of Ben's voice, she opened her eyes, her heart skipping a beat as she angled her head back towards him. "Mind-reading one of your abilities, too?"

"Not one of my specialties," he said, the chink, chink of his crutch drawing nearer, "but I do have an old friend I could introduce you to. Charles would be rather fond of you, I think."

At that, she smiled faintly. "He would, would he?" She mused, her eyes meeting his as he came up beside her.

"He would," he affirmed.

Those eyes. God, even in the dark, they seemed so bright. "Listen," she turned herself to face him fully, "I never got a chance to thank you properly earlier, but you were an immense help to us in there."

"It was no trouble, Doctor."

"I mean it, though. It might have taken longer to properly diagnose him without Elias, but you stepped in right when I needed you most, and I can't even begin to tell you how much I appreciate what you did. Not just for me, but for them, too."

He gave a bare tilt of his head, that small smile of his appearing. "Irena and Jakub are grateful to you, for the kindness and caring you've shown towards their son. I daresay they are indebted to you."

Hearing this made her heart expand, but at the same time, she didn't feel deserving of such praise. Not when there was little else she could do for Stefan at this point. "They owe me nothing," she almost whispered, letting her eyes drift away from his.

For a moment, he was silent. Then, "You care for this boy."

She drew in a breath. "I care about all my patients."

"So you've clearly demonstrated. But something about him affects you more deeply than you're willing to admit."

She sighed through her nose. For years, she'd honed her ability to maintain a certain degree of detachment from her patients, understood the importance of keeping her emotions carefully guarded in her profession. But in Ben's presence…She couldn't deny that something about him had a remarkably calming effect on her, and as she lifted her eyes to his once more, the tension in her chest continued to subside. What was it about him that made her feel like she could tell him anything?

"You've lost someone, haven't you?" He leaned a bit more against his crutch. "Someone dear to you. Someone young."

She should have stopped talking right then and there, certainly shouldn't have opened her mouth to tell him, "My kid sister, Kit." Lara hesitated only briefly before adding, "She was only eleven."

His eyes searched hers, and then he blinked as he drew up slightly. "She was a mutant."

The conclusion he'd drawn had the floodgates of memory opening all over again, and though she never divulged such personal information to her patients, she found herself nodding silently in response. Ben said nothing, but seeing the gradual softening of his features had her digging her fingers into her biceps.

Don't, she cautioned herself, unable to look away. Don't lose yourself like this—

A commotion from the inner chamber had her pivoting instantly, two distinct voices calling out with an urgency that had her pulse racing. Throwing one last glance at Ben, she hurried back into the receiving room, Elias' voice becoming much clearer as she emerged from the inner doorway.

"Doktor!" He called upon seeing her. "ICU-code blau! Jetzt!"

Lara felt the blood in her veins turn to ice. Oh no…

Code blue. Stefan.

God, no! Needing no further explanation, she rushed across the inner chamber, trying not to worry the rest of her patients as she made her way over to the ICU.

It felt as though Lara was moving in slow motion as she moved through the unit, but she fought past the sensation as she came to Stefan's side, hearing the voices of her nurses punctuated by the shrill BEEP-BEEP-BEEP of the nearby heart monitor. On the gurney, Stefan's face was damp with perspiration, his complexion still as pale as ever. What had her eyes widening, though, was the bluish tone of his lips; despite his oxygen mask, the boy was not breathing.

"Chloe?" She immediately asked, slipping on the gloves that Elias handed her.

"Respiratory arrest, no pupillary response," she reported, her voice a bit more amplified than usual as she gripped his wrist. "He has a pulse, but it's very weak."

Christ, she thought. "CPR," she instructed, pulling off her stethoscope and pressing it to his chest as Chloe and Heather replaced his oxygen mask with a manual resuscitator.

"Come on, Stefan," she said to him as they repeatedly squeezed the pump, "breathe for me, sweetie. I need you to breathe."

As he managed to pull in what sounded like a painful breath, she could hear just how full of fluid his lungs were, and though she tried to keep her expression neutral, she could feel her stomach plummeting.

"Elias," she pulled her stethoscope down, "prep him for a thoracentesis. He's gonna drown if we don't."

"Won't he need a local—"

"There isn't time!" She yelled. "Just get it cleaned so we can get some of that fluid drained!"

"Ja, Doktor."

Once he had the area prepped and marked, Chloe handed her the long-needled syringe, and Lara took care as she eased it into his side, into the pleural space between his ribs. As she did, a sound of discomfort escaped Stefan's throat.

"I know, buddy, I know," she told him, already extracting the offending fluid. "Just hang in there for me: I'll try to keep this qui—"

The BEEP-BEEP-BEEP of the heart monitor suddenly became a steady BEEEEEEEEEEP, and Lara snapped her eyes up to see the flat-line stretching across the screen. Oh shit…

"Cardiac arrest!" Chloe shouted.

Somewhere in the background, the horrified cry of Irena could be heard. "O Boże! Mój chłopak! Boże, proszę, mój chłopcze..."

No! Lara's mind screamed, pulling the needle out as gently as possible. No, I am not losing him like this! "Chest compressions!" She ordered, handing the needle off to Elias before replacing Chloe's palm on Stefan's chest with her own.

"Oxygen," she told her, and Chloe kept the mask fastened over his mouth as she steadily pumped his chest, counting aloud, "…nine-and-ten-and-eleven-and-twelve-and…"

After thirty compressions, Chloe gave two pumps, glancing at the monitor screen and shaking her head. "No pulse."

"Again!" She insisted, starting the cycle over again. "One-and-two-and-three…"

Come on, Stefan, she silently pleaded. Don't give up on me now. Don't you give up!

At one point, that sensation of being trapped in slow motion hit her again…as did the undeniable sensation of being watched. Glancing up, her eyes caught sight of Ben standing in the stone doorway, and from a distance, she could see his stoic expression as he watched her raptly. She wasn't sure how long the moment between them lasted, but the spell was broken as she slowly blinked, and her attentions returned to the still-unresponsive boy on the gurney.

Please, God, she implored, beginning yet another cycle of compressions as the monotone BEEEEEEEEP droned on around them. Breathe, sweetie, breathe…

Where Erik had brought her to rest.

Feeling her heart flutter, she moved to sit up, pausing when something slid from her chest and landed on the mattress beside her. She stared at it: a silver locket. One that did not belong to her, but as she picked it up to inspect it…That chain, she thought, cradling the length with her other palm. She'd seen it before; caught glimpses of it beneath Erik's shirt whenever she looked at him. Her lips parted on an intake of breath. If he'd left this for her to find…

A muffled call somewhere outside her door pulled her from her thoughts, and Lara closed her hand around the locket as she swung her legs over the side of the cot. Opening the door, she stepped out and immediately noticed multiple volunteers hustling through the inner chamber, most of them carrying various crates of supplies to the stockroom. Her heart hammered in her chest. That could only mean one thing as she looked around for—

As she turned, she nearly bumped into him. "Claude," she exhaled in relief, pulling her elder colleague in for a hug. "God, you made it."

"We did," Claude said, "pushed zrough ze entire night, and managed to arrive about two hours ago. Supplies are still being unloaded as we speak."

Two hours? She pulled back to look at him. "Why didn't you wake me as soon as you got in? I could have given you a hand."

"We were asked not to deesturb you."

She blinked. "By whom?"

"I almost couldn't believe my eyes," his voice dropped low, "but Erik Lehnsherr 'imself insisted upon it. 'E was one of your patients while we were gone?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but words seemed to fail her in that instant, and all she could do was sigh softly.

Claude, however, gave her a knowing look. "'E introduced 'imself as Ben, so let us keep it zat way, oui?"

She managed a smile of gratitude for him.

"En tous cas," he said, returning to a conversational volume, "Ben 'ad been sitting outside your door, requesting you be allowed to rest. 'E said you'd 'ad quite a difficult night, and since you were still asleep, I agreed it would be best to leave you unless it was urgent. I was able to handle matters in ze meantime."

Her heart swelled, but at the same time… "And where is he now?"

"Left shortly after we arrived. Said 'is leg 'ad 'ealed enough for 'im to travel again."

Deep down, it was the answer she'd been expecting, but she still felt the sting of disappointment pierce her chest. "He left alone?"

"No," Claude said, "a volunteer took 'im and a few ozers to ze train station, so 'e shall be accompanied for a time, at least."

On his way, she thought. To where? She'd probably never know, but wherever Erik did end up, she could only hope that he'd find the peace that he deserved. "I'm glad he's not alone."

"Oui. 'E also said to give you zis when you woke up," he held up a metal thermos, "a special coffee 'e brewed for you; said it would 'elp get you zrough ze day. I zink you made quite an impression on him, mon amie."

A wave of warmth surged through her, Lara smiling gently as she accepted the thermos with her free hand. This final gesture from him was just as touching as it had been the first time. Yeah; he made quite the impression on me as well…

Placing a hand on her shoulder, Claude said, "Take some breakfast, Lara; Elias and I will look after zem until you're ready to make your rounds."

"Thank you," she replied sincerely.

He gave a nod. "Elias?" As Elias came over, the two of them spoke quietly, heading for the occupied cots on the far wall.

With a sigh, Lara looked down at the locket in her hand. A reminder of Erik that, while amplifying the ache in her heart, managed to provide some degree of comfort as she rubbed her thumb over the intricate design in the surface of the metal.

Erik, she thought, her eyes drifting shut as she closed her fingers around the locket once more.

~One Week Later~

"Still hurts there?"

When the girl nodded, Lara eased her fingers away from her ankle. "Okay, Evi, thank you." The thirteen-year-old had come to them the day before yesterday with a sprained ankle, and compared the grapefruit-sized swell she'd had then, this was a marked improvement.

"Swelling has already gone down significantly," she reported to her parents, "and you can see the bruising is fading a bit here. We'll need to keep icing it at regular intervals to help ease any pain she's still having, but she should heal up in a few more days. Keep her on the crutches until then, and then start putting some weight on it after that. Just remember to take it slow, right, Evi?"

"Ja," Evi replied, smiling sheepishly. Lara couldn't help but smile in return.

"Danke, Doktor," Evi's mother said, her German accent heavy.

After a few more verbal notes, Lara set about re-wrapping the compression bandage around the girl's foot, being particularly careful not to aggravate the delicate skin of her webbed toes. Securing it with two metal fasteners, she stood back and let the parents take over as they helped Evi situate herself on her crutches.

"Lara?" She turned as Claude approached from the receiving room. "A courier just dropped zis off for you," he held an ivory-colored envelope out to her.

Her brow furrowed. "Courier?" She took the envelope he was holding out to her. Typically, mail was delivered to her clinic in the main town; it was only on a rare occasion that they had anything delivered directly out here. All that was written on the front was Attn: Dr. Lara Nolan, D.O. "I wasn't expecting anything."

"Per'aps not, but you should 'ave a look at ze return address."

She looked at him a moment, then back down at the envelope. Turning it over, she read the address that was stamped across the seal…She blinked, and as she read it again, she felt her eyes widen:

XAVIER'S SCHOOL FOR GIFTED YOUNGSTERS

1407 Graymalkin Lane, Salem Center

Westchester County, NY 10560

X…avier? Anyone who wasn't at least familiar with that name...

Charles would be rather fond of you, I think.

Her heart skipped a beat. "Who was the courier?"

"A mutant, but not who you are zinking. 'E was fast—very fast. One moment, 'e was in front of me, and zen poof! Gone. I don't zink I even blinked, and 'e was gone."

Despite feeling a slight twinge of disappointment, she gave an affirming nod and proceeded to tear open the envelope. Unfolding the note within, her eyes fell upon a smaller document cradled within the page, and as she processed what it was she was actually looking at, her jaw slowly dropped. "Oh, my…" She breathed, bringing a hand to her lips.

"What is it?" Claude asked.

Slowly lowering her hand, she angled the document for him to see. "Does that say what I think it says?" She whispered.

She watched as Claude's eyes went wide. "Mon…mon Dieu!" He rasped. Reaching for it, he held the document in his hands as though it was fragile. "Lara," his voice was hushed, "zi-zis is a check for eighty-zousand dollars!"

A shuddering breath passed her lips. So she had read that right: a check for eighty-thousand dollars. Written out to her.

But why…? Glancing down at the note, she read the words that had been written in flowing cursive, and pulled in a discreet breath.

To help further your cause, at the request of an old friend.

With much gratitude,

Charles F. Xavier

Stunned was hardly an adequate word as she blinked slowly. "A donation," she murmured.

He looked at her, his blue eyes positively alight. "From Charles Xavier 'imself? I never would 'ave imagined…" The underlying sense of relief that overtook his gaze was enough to make her heart clench, and he wiped away the tears that fell down his cheeks. "C'est incroyable, Lara."

Yes, she agreed, and through the cascade of her vacillating emotions, she gave a true smile.

It wasn't long before Claude had informed the nurses about their generous benefactor, and from where she sat on one of the empty cots, Lara observed while they celebrated amongst themselves at one of the long tables. She sighed to herself. So much could be done to continue caring for their patients now, and as her colleagues raised their coffee cups, she caught the murmur of Xavier's name at the end of their toast.

But she knew better. Absently, her hand drifted to the locket resting below the hollow of her throat, her thoughts inevitably drifting to the man who she knew truly deserved their gratitude. Coincidentally enough, as she became aware of where she was sitting, it dawned on her that this was the very cot where Erik Lehnsherr had spent his days recuperating in her care. Beneath her chest, she felt her heart expand as she smiled sadly.

Erik, she thought, pressing her palm against the locket. For what you've done, I will never forget you.

THE END