Chapter 1
"Science never solves a problem without creating ten more.” - George Bernard Shaw
An old country and western song warbled out of the nearby radio as Dr. Hank McCoy busied himself in the medical bay. He was sat at his desk, typing away at his computer as he hummed along under his breath. The X-Men fondly knew him as Beast; a large and ferocious looking man, though certainly betrayed his visual attributes as well as his namesake. He propped his wire-rimmed spectacles up the bridge of his blue furred nose. He pushed back from the computer, allowing the wheels of his office chair to carry him across the metallic flooring towards a nearby desk where he began flicking through some scattered documents.
The circular doorway to the medical bay parted with a quiet whirr, and Rogue made her way in with a cheerful greeting. “Hey, Beast.”
Beast quickly looked round, surveying Rogue over the top of his glasses, “Rogue!” he welcomed warmly. “You’re earlier than I expected. Our consultation is not until four o’clock.”
But Rogue shrugged, heading on over towards the large blue mutant, “Guess I’m a lil’ too eager.” She stopped besides his chair, folding her arms over her chest. As usual, the young girl was heavily clad in her protective clothing that was her only barrier for her dangerous mutation.
“Nothing wrong with enthusiasm,” Beast told her with a smile as he stood to his feet. He pocketed his glasses in the breast pocket of his laboratory coat. “Keeps us young.” He gestured politely to the leather-covered table in the centre of the room, which was situated around machines that beeped and flashed significantly. “If you wish to start now, please, make yourself comfortable.” Rogue offered him a smile as she made her way over to the table, easing herself up to sit on the edge.
“Couldn’t believe it when the Professor said you’d look into a way to control my mutation,” Rogue said as Beast moved over to the stainless steel sink to wash his hands. “I mean, you’re good at this stuff.”
“I’m sure Harvard thought that too when I received my PhD,” Beast chuckled as he glanced over his shoulder.
Rogue grinned at him sheepishly, looking a little awkward as she tucked one of her white streaks behind an ear. “You know what I mean..”
“Indeed I do, my dear,” assured Beast as he began walking back towards her. “I am going to try my hardest to find out a way to help you control your mutation, or in the very least scratch the surface of this unusual phenomenon.”
Deciding against questioning what he meant exactly, she went for the easiest approach. “How?” asked Rogue as she watched him curiously, her hands gripping the edge of the table she sat upon.
“Well,” began Beast as he pulled a trolley of medical equipment towards him, “first of all I need to examine your DNA structure, explore the recessive genes of your genetics and fabricate all the wonderful pieces together to see..”
Rogue leant forward a little, “Yeah?”
“.. what makes your mutation tick,” he flashed her a toothy smile. “Now, how have you been feeling lately, Rogue?”
In answer, Rogue shrugged her shoulders, “Alright,” she replied. “A bit rough, I guess. One minute I think I’ve got rid of a sore throat, then a few days later another one is upon me.”
“Ah, the common cold. A devilishly clever virus,” Beast said as he smiled at her encouragingly.
Rogue grinned a little, sniffing. “Yeah,” she agreed quietly. “But other than that, I’m fine.”
“Good,” Beast murmured as he readied a small needle in his large furry paws. “Now, Rogue, today’s going to be relatively easy. Just a blood sample is required, and by tomorrow we will have results.” Rogue mutely nodded her head in response, though eyed the needle cautiously as it shone in the white lighting of the medical bay. She automatically unfastened her jacket, pulling it off her arms. A sleeve was gradually rolled up past her elbow, exposing the delicate pale skin of her inner arm to him. Taking her actions as confirmation, Beast carefully settled the needle on the crease of her elbow join, swiftly locating a suitable vein.
Rogue flinched a little in discomfort as the metal spike probed into her flesh, all the while Beast taking care not to touch her dangerous skin. Rogue knew it was probably wiser to watch something other than the current activity, but her eyes were drawn to watch her dark crimson blood rise up the narrow needle in the smallest of amounts. And just like that, the sharp tip was removed from her skin and quickly replaced with a cotton wool ball for her to hold in place with a gloved hand. “That’s it?” she called to Beast who had bustled off with the blood sample.
“All done,” he confirmed with a chuckle. “Surely Charles informed you it wouldn’t take long?”
“Yeah,” Rogue murmured as she rolled down her sleeve. “But I thought it would be longer than that.”
Beast turned to face her, propping his glasses back on his nose. “Tomorrow will be. But the most important part is the blood sample, therefore it makes sense to test that first for any abnormalities.”
“What do you expect to find?” she asked, slipping forth off the table.
“Honestly, I have no idea,” Beast replied as he glanced down at the blood sample he held in his hand. “But if I see any difference than that of standard mutant’s DNA, then I can explore it further.”
“Right,” murmured Rogue as she deposited the cotton wool ball into the nearby medical bin. “So, same time tomorrow?”
Beast nodded his head, “Of course. Have a good evening Rogue.”
“You too,” she replied politely, then making her way towards the automatic doors and out of the medical bar.
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A lonely light shone over a metallic counter as Beast worked quietly. Time had hurried by, spent with Beast reading up on Rogue’s documentations and her medical history. He had recently set up his microscope to analyse her blood sample and made his way over to begin his work. He lowered his glasses off his nose as he leant in towards the eyepiece, peering in to begin focusing on the cells displayed. His jaunty hum continued from the radio’s earlier show, filling the almost silent medical bar.
Beast pulled back from the microscope, noting details on a nearby notepad. He returned back to the eyepiece, expertly twisting the wheel on the side as he continued to work. Then, his tuneful sounds abruptly stopped as he froze still. He quickly slammed down his pencil, furiously leaning into the microscope as he hurriedly began twisting the wheel some more. Progressively, he straightened from the microscope, pulling his glasses completely off the bridge of his nose. His eyes were wide and staring at the wall in front of him unseeingly.
“It can’t be..”
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