「 The Professor & I 」VOLUME II

(207) She Fights For You

Charles' POV

"Never... Go swimming... In winter... Charles..." Lynn slurred faintly yet with a bright smile, a tone so peculiar like she was nearly delusional, before her head plopped lifelessly onto Scott's chest.

"Scott! Get her inside!" I ordered breathlessly yet Scott glared up at me skeptically.

"But you're freezing, Professor," Scott claimed like I never knew the fact myself.

"I get it, but I can manage my way back. Get her to Jean. I'll be fine once she's alright. Go!" I snapped agonizingly and Scott readily scooped up her dripping frame, racing off back into the mansion.

Shakily steering myself along the way, my pale complexion inevitably earned me more than just concerned gazes from the packs of children and it was simply unfortunate that I neither had the time, mood nor energy to entertain or appreciate their kindness as I rushed towards the basement.

"Professor!" Scott blurted anxiously, hurriedly draping a thick blanket over me as I entered through the large round aperture of the emergency room.

"Thank you, Scott," I murmured and he took the liberty to push me towards the surgical platform Lynn was laying upon.

"How is she?" I probed warily, watching Jean meticulously double checking the tubings hanging from Lynn's frail body, thankfully already dried properly.

"Severe case of hypothermia but I'm irrigating her and she's rising. Slow, but rising," Jean informed somberly and I turned to the meters, glad that they were detecting steady, albeit extremely low, vitals after Jean had warm intravenous fluids continuously pumped through her veins.

"Her wrist's been dislocated. Minor complications from the previous trauma but unthreatening. Regardless, her body's too weak for surgery. Pain management and immobilization is all that can be done now," Jean elaborated cheerlessly, conveniently floating in the apparatus she required.

Professionally bandaging Lynn's fairly deformed arm into a splint, Jean meticulously injected the affected area with a syringe of colourless solution and gradually, the morphine functioned to numb away the throbbing emanating from her afflicted limb.

"Now, I need you to drink this," Jean ordered sternly, tenderly taking my hands as she cautiously levitated a mug of hot chocolate into my grasp.

"And, please, keep yourself warm, alright?" Jean nagged and anxiously crouched before me, kindly securing the heavy fleece snugly around me as I began sipping on the comforting beverage.

"I can take care of myself, Jean. I'm not a boy," I asserted, trying my best yet still failing to quite muster a smile that could ease the gravity of the room.

"Yet, you act like one," Jean retorted solemnly, almost chastising, when the doors suddenly swished open, unveiling Logan and Storm bursting in with a pair of distressed faces.

"Where is she?" Logan interrogated impatiently, his rowdy and erratic thoughts blaring turbulently in my mind.

"Who?" Scott probed with a muddled expression.

"Rogue. She's gone," I revealed in mild bewilderment.

"I have to go," I muttered quietly, sighing in frustration.

But you're unwell. Are you sure you can do this? Jean prodded, frowning at me worriedly.

She'll want me to find her, I remarked dejectedly, giving Lynn a brief glance before downing the remaining cocoa from my cup.