A New Hope
Lily Handle
~***~

“I can’t believe you’re leaving!” Lorry moaned as Hope turned in her last case file for the day. A little girl had gone after a ball as it rolled into a street, she’d been lightly tapped by a car, and had suffered only a broken arm.

“Well, Lorry we knew this would happen one day,” Jena, another trauma doctor said, reaching over Hope’s shoulder to slide her file in with Hope’s. “Ever since that hunky, brooding, man showed up here looking for Hope we knew she would be leaving.” Jena sent Hope a devilish grin, “I know I’d love that man to take me away.”

“Ohh, I second that,” Berry, a nurse called, fanning herself with a file, “What’s his name Hope?”

“Logan?” Hope laughed a little, “He’s not exactly what you think he is.” Hope was really going to miss the friendship that was generated when they all had little breaks from the fast paced trauma world.

“Oh?” Berry called, looking over at Hope with a single brow perched at the top of her head, “Why don’t you inform us.” Actually Hope realized she had no idea what type of man Logan was, since he barely ever talked, and Hope hadn’t seen many of the people she had met from the Institute since she returned home a week ago with a new job and an unusual place of business. Everyone figured that Hope was going to the Institute to teach health. That would have driven me insane, Hope thought while laughing at Lorry who was doing a very bad impression of Logan’s brooding stare. All the fun stopped suddenly as everyone looked over Hope’s shoulder. She turned around, and it was the devil himself, Logan.

“Mr. Logan, what can I help you with?” Hope asked when she turned to face him, feeling the eyes of every duty nurse on her and Logan. There was no way Logan missed the stares, but he didn’t appear to be bothered by them.

“We were supposed to pick up your stuff today,” Logan leaned over the counter to look at the digital clock there, half buried in paper work, “You’re thirty minutes late.”

Hope looked down at the clock, “Oh damn, you’re right, um, Jena can you take the leg laceration in room three for me, and see if you can get Frank to take the appendectomy at five?” Hope handed over the laceration, and began to scan the room for Frank.

“He’s doing a biopsy at five, but that new Doc, Noah can, he’s suppose to be good a surgery,” Jena offered taking the folder and leaning close to Hope’s ear, “I think he rode a motorcycle here.” Hope didn’t care, she hated being late, it drove her crazy.

“Hey guys, I love you all, and I promise I’ll visit.” With that Hope threw off her doctors coat, handed over her id and walked out from behind the emergency counter. While she followed Logan out to the front of Charity she began to memorize his walk, a pattern Hope’s father had ingrained in her mind. ‘You can learn a lot about a person by the way they walk,’ he had told her over and over again. By watching Logan, Hope was reminded of a weary animal. Something that was barely tamed, ready to release the animal within at any moment to the utter surprise of those around him. It figured he would be a man who spoke little, but when he spoke it was with care. Though I have yet to hear him speak more than one sentence, Hope thought as she continued to answer shouts of good-bye and good luck.

“Take this,” Logan said, his voice almost hinting at the animal inside. He was holding a motorcycle helmet out to her, and Hope found herself staring at it dumbfounded. How had Jena known? Blinking away surprise Hope snagged it and began to adjust her chin strap. Her Uncle Donald had owned a motorcycle and Hope remembers watching him and Aunt Jennie pulling up outside the South Caroline estate in leather and silver studs. Logan had the leather, but no studs, which Hope found fitted him, he wasn’t a man to stand out, though the nurses and Jena had certainly noticed him.

“What about my car?” Hope asked, realizing he meant for her to ride with him. As a gift her father had gotten her a little Honda Sante Fe to replace the worn out and dying Buick. The Sante Fe was the best car Hope had ever owned, and she didn’t want to leave it behind.

“Already taken care of,” Logan replied, looking over his shoulder at Hope.

“What do you mean by it’s already taken care of?”

“Your car is at the Institute, waiting for you.” Logan said as they stepped outside. Hope’s question on how they had gotten the car there stopped in her throat. She didn’t know if she’d like the answer or not. The motorcycle was orange and blue, and a nice make. Perfect for long rides, and its look matched what personality traits Hope had picked apart from Logan.

“Have you ridden before?” Logan asked easily throwing a leg over the bike, and leaning on the handlebars to look over at Hope.

“My Uncle when I was eighteen let me drive his around my home town, but that was a couple of years ago.” Hope told him, watching the windows on the trauma ward fill with her friends as they shouted good-bye. Hope slid behind Logan and wrapped her arms around him as he started the engine. There was an unmistakable wolf whistle from the top windows as Logan pulled into traffic. That was good-bye, Hope thought, occasionally giving Logan directions when he seemed to get lost. The only replies she got to her helpful hints were grunts and nods. Sitting in the street outside Hope’s apartment was a large black van, a few students and Hank.

“I can offer you all something to drink when you finish, but that’s about it. I wasn’t expecting so much help,” Hope admitted, Charles had told her she was going to have some help in moving her stuff, but she had never guessed he would send five students to help.

“It’s quite alright Hope,” Hank said walked over to her to gently tug on her arm, “Let’s just get started shall we?” Hope nodded, still a bit over whelmed by the school’s hospitality. The students they sent were very interesting themselves, one was an incredible telepath and telekinetic, Jean Grey who amazed Hope by lifting her box with all her medical text books in it with her mind.

“Can you feel its weight?” Hope asked her, watching in opened mouth adoration as it was floated towards the front door. No powers were to be used outside of the room, Hank’s orders and a look from Logan to enforce it.

“Yes, but it’s really not that much,” Jean responded, smiling at Hope, “Professor Xavier let me read your articles. You were very kind to keep the mutants name’s a secret.”

“It was in their best interest, which is what any doctor wants for those they work with or on.” Hope watched as one student, who’s powers were a littler hard to guess at, though one of them had to be super strength, lifted four boxes balanced on top of each other. It took two hours and multiple trips but all of Hope’s stuff fit in the van, along with all the students and Hope. Logan followed on the motorcycle, and Hank drove. With her curiosity nagging away at her Hope turned in the front passenger seat and looked into the back.

“Would it bother you at all if I asked for your names and powers? I’ve been trying to figure them out, but there are a few I can’t seem to get. If you’ve already told feel free to avoid telling me once again.” Hope kept the question light as if she wouldn’t remember it down the road, but every word she had heard today was stored deep in her memory.

“I’m Roberto, they call me Sunspot. I transform solar energy into strength,” A boy deep in the back of the van called, waving a hand over his companions. This had to be the boy whose only power seemed to be strength.

“Scott Summers, Cyclopes,” Hope remembered the voice and had a face to go with it. He was the student with sun glasses, something that had thrown Hope for a loop, but Hope had held her tongue and not asked about it. He didn’t mention his power and Hope let that be. Jean smiled at Hope and she smiled back.

“Rouge,” a girl with brown hair with a white bangs said. Hope had noticed the gothic girl the moment she walked into the apartment, she seemed so unsure of those around her.

“Kurt,” said the remaining student. Hope hadn’t seen much of him in the moving, he must have been helping Logan and Hank with the moving out in the hallway. “Teleportation.” The accent made it a little hard for Hope to understand him, but it was no worse than some of those who had walked into Charity.

“Do you all like the Institute?” Hope asked, genuinely interested starting conversation with the students.

“It’s great,” Kurt answered, his smile wide.

“Yeah, it’s a place where you can be yourself,” Roberto offered.

“The Professor makes it very welcoming.” Jean said, her smile more polite than Kurt’s grin.

“What about you Hank?” Hope turned back towards Hank, who had been leaning an ear towards the conversation.

“Yeah, Dr. McCoy, what do you think?” Roberto called, laughing as he finished the question. Hope figured it was teasing, and teasing meant friendship, at least at Charity it had.

“You are all a bunch of hooligans and good for nothing kids,” Hank replied in an extremely serious tone, causing the whole van to start laughing. Hope knew Hank was joking, there was no way that he had been serious, the grin gave it away.

“Well then, you can let me out here, if Hank can’t stand you, then certainly I can’t survive,” Hope pretended to frantically pull at the handle of the door, causing the whole van to giggle.

“You’re trapped now, there is no escape!” Hank had done some theater, as Hope remember, and it was clear by the way Hank had turned his voice to a perfect imitation of an evil genius. Logan peaked an eyebrow as the van empty with students and staff laughing with each other.

“Kurt,” Hank said, recovering from a joke, “Will you stay here and help with carrying Dr. Chandler’s boxes?”

“Oh I can help with that, you’ve all done enough for me today,” Hope interjected, a little over whelmed by the hospitality she thought she hadn’t deserved.

“Of course not, you have a meeting with Xavier,” Hank waved away Hope’s offer, “Logan would you show Dr. Chandler the way to the Professor’s office?” Logan looked a little out off, but nodded anyway. Hope remembered walking through the doors only a week ago, but now it would be her home she began to memorize, the gift her father had given her. Heads began to pop out of doorways and students stopped in the hallways to watch the precession of Hope and Logan, and Hope felt extremely out of place. All of the student’s staring stopped though when Logan opened on large oak door, polish to a high gleam.

“He’s inside,” Logan said when Hope also paused.

“Thank you,” Hope said, remembering her manners as she walked past him. The door closed with a echoing thud. Charles was sitting by the window that was the back wall of the room. Hope could see the lust grounds that were just outside the glass and the sun that seemed to be paused in the sky was casting long and deep black shadows in the room.

“Welcome, Dr. Chandler,” Charles said as he turned towards her.

“Thank you, Mr. Xavier,” Hope replied. It was eerie how Charles could seem so much like Hope’s old boss, Dr. Monroe.

“I hope you found the help a benefit.”

“Yes, it would have taken me hours to do all that work by myself,” Hope shifted as she spoke, unease clawing at her.

“There is no reason for you to be nervous, Doctor.” Charles said, Hope felt as though he was reading her mind, but didn’t like the idea that her emotions were so easily read.

“I guess it’s the new job jitters, Mr. Xavier. I’m very honored to be working here.” Hope prayed her tone was casual and that her voice didn’t sound as weak as it did in her head.

“Have you had any experience in dealing with mutants, Dr. Chandler?” Charles has folded his fingers and was looking at Hope over the tips.

“Yes, my brother is one, or I believe, well we both believe that he is.” God that sounded stupid, Hope thought, resisting the urge to slam her head against the nearest wall.

“Is he?”

“My mother tried to have gardens, but she murdered those poor plants, but Mike, that’s my brother, he would walk through those dead gardens and he seemed to breath new life into them. He’s a very well off farmer in Nebraska,” The story rolled off Hope’s tongue with ease, it surprised her. Mike preferred it if the story was told to as few people as possible, but Charles Xavier could be trusted with the story.

“And in an attempt to make his life easier in the future you decided to go into medicine and work on theories that would make the world see the X-gene as an expectable genetic possibility?” Charles asked, and Hope could see that he was generally interested.

“No, I just always wanted to be a doctor. What about you, Mr. Xavier, did you always want to be teacher and help young children with their gifts?” Hope was feeling much more relaxed now, relaxed enough to walked towards a leather chair and sit down to face Charles.

“It is a benefit to my work, yes, but all I hope for is peace between man and mutant.” Charles smiled at Hope, “But enough on the future, I have a few things to go over with you, Doctor.”

“Of course,” Hope agreed, realizing it was time for business.

“You can not use the students names when publishing your theories or reports. I do not want the Institutes name mentioned, it is a sanctuary for the students and I was arranged a P.O. Box for you to receive mail and send mail from.” Hope thought it was a little harsh, but understandable and nodded in agreement. “You would do well to organize the Infirmary tomorrow. It gets heavy use here, and the students have left it a massive disarray.”

“I don’t mean to take anymore students away from whatever you do with them, but if I could maybe get a few to help me organize that room, I would really appreciate it. I remember it from my previous visit. How is Jubilee anyway? I hope Mr. Logan has followed my orders and kept her out of training?”

“Of course, Logan may not seem like the most out going of persons, but he does care for the students in his own way. Jubilee is healing well, she seems to handle the restrictions rather well.” Hope jumped as a very grand and very old grandfather clock chimed seven o’clock, “Well seems it is time for dinner, you’ll find this an interesting experience Dr. Chandler.”

“Please, call me Hope, it’s what most of my employers have called me that and Dr. Chandler makes me feel as if I am a scientist here to study, when I’m not.” Hope didn’t know what she was here. A guest, she thought, until those that lived here accepted her. Hope held the door open for Charles and walked slightly behind him, as she had done with patients as Charity that were in wheelchairs.

“It’s an unusual name, Hope. Does your brother have a middle name shifting towards the unusual?” Charles tone was polite and interested. Hope was all to happy to talk about her family, she loved them and had never hesitated in going on and on about them.

“Mike’s only unusual tilt is he’s named after the Saint, and tends to act like one. My mother said she promised her mother that each of her children would have names that showed the world that there was still a place for good things in the world. As first born I was named Hope, so I would give the world hope every time they heard my name,” Hope finished on a blush, it seemed to silly out loud, “Guess that’s one of the reasons I became a doctor.”

“All wonderful reasons, your family sounds like an interesting group of people.” Hope looked down at Charles and wondered how much his work had alienated his family from him. In her interviews Hope had seen the terrible and frightening back lash some of those with the X-gene suffered from their families. It gave Hope cold chills to think about the idea of losing her parents over something like being different. Mike’s gift was another theory, one Hope had tested and seemed to be proven that it wasn’t just the water, soil and sun that Mike kept careful tabs on, it was a gift. She heard the dinning room before she could see it. The noise of gossiping students was muffled but there. It seemed that she was the main topic of discussion for tonight, which was understandable. Hope opened the door for Charles and the room inside went quite, leaving Hope to step in after and have all eyes turn towards her.

There were more students than she had expected, so many in fact Hope felt her head reel a little bit. At the head of the table Hope spotted Ororo, Hank and Logan, each watching Charles and her with polite interest, though Hope noticed how Logan’s brow furrowed a little and some of the students drummed their fingers.

“We have a new teacher joining us here at the Institute, she’ll be running the Infirmary so all medical problems will be reported to her. I would like you all to welcome Dr. Hope Chandler.” There was kind applause and welcoming shouts all of which Hope excepted with a smile. A student had the guts to raise their hand after Charles had taken a seat, Hope had sat next to him, feeling like he was acting as the protective father for Hope. “Yes?” Charles asked, looking over at the student with curiosity. Hope guessed that it was normal for the students to yell out their questions and not be this formal.

“Is she…like us?” The students ventured to ask, looking up and down the length of the table at those around him for support. The murmurs spread through the table reminding Hope of a swarm of locus just about to take flight, or a pack of cicadas in summer.

“No, I’m not,” The murmurs of the table increased and Hope felt the need to explain, but she was never got a chance to, Logan cut her off.

“Relax, the Doc’s got enough sense in her head to keep quiet about what goes on here, so relax.” With that the table went back to gossip and joking. Hope felt inexplicably welcome now that Logan had voiced his opinion of her, or at least he had voiced that she had his trust. That was enough, Hope realized, to have the students talking with her through most of the meal. They shouted questions, listened when she answered, and even laughed at her jokes. She felt at home, quickly and easily. When she offered up the need for volunteers to help her with organizing the Infirmary and the amount of hands that shot up had Hope looking over at Charles.

“I don’t know who you will need, or who could possibly understand what I need them to do,” Hope said with a smile on her lips and a light in her eyes.

“Well, that’s a question you will have to ask Logan and Ororo, they’re the ones who know the students schedule better than I do.”

“We’ll give you a list tomorrow who will be able to help,” Ororo smiled approvingly down the table at the students. As the crowd waned so did Hope’s energy, today had been hectic and an emotional roller coaster, but it had been a day of pure Heaven.

“I hope there is someone around who can still lead me to my room, I still have no idea where that is,” Hope asked sheepishly to the remaining members of the table. There were a few glances exchanged and Logan rose from his seat. Hope had figured out during the dinner that he was the school’s guard dog, and she figured this was his way of warning her about double crossing the school and what it might bring down on her head. She followed him silently, letting him think out his thoughts.

“I’ve read your work,” Logan said, pausing outside a single white door, “You’re doing good work for those kids.” Hope listened to the sigh Logan let free, “Here’s your room.” And he walked away, leaving Hope looking at his back as if she had never seen the man before. He’s a hard one to puzzle out, Hope thought as she stepped inside the lush living quarters and lush was putting it lightly. There were book shelves along one long wall, a desk sat at the end of them and faced a window. There was a small sitting area that looked out onto the grounds of the school, there was a door and Hope let her curiosity made her forget the boxes she needed to unpack and walk through that door. Inside was the bed, an impressive four poster with no canopy, but it looked comfortable enough. Hope peaked her head into the bathroom and was just as impressed with the bathroom as the rest of the room. It was simple white with silver accents, all in all Hope loved the room. Simple with no frills, the way she had enjoyed living on her own. Hope didn’t climb into the bed to see exactly how comfortable it was, she had work to do. Rushing back into the front room she began looking over her boxes. There was on marked ‘junk’ though what was inside was not junk. In it lay months of hard work and hard digging. She’d raided the libraries video files and news clippings. She’d attacked the local newspaper editor, begging for an scrap of information they had on a ‘mutant’. All that was in that box was one well cared for laptop, masses of floppy disc, and hundreds and hundreds of hand written notes. There were little recorded interviews with the X-gene duffers themselves, and with the people who shared their secrets. Hope was after the laptop, she had a journal in it and she wanted to record every thought she had, had run through her head today. Every memory would be typed out with the precision of a medical report, and Hope would then edit her theories accordingly. Many had said it would be easier if she just talked to tapes, as she had her interviewees do, but those would eventually have to be made into transcripts better to type it now, Hope thought. She chose one of the red arm chairs that was part of the sitting area and started. Hope’s only fault in research was that she go too involved, in a case study on children taking a new cancer medicine Hope had spent most of her typing in tears, moved by the bravery and stoicism of the kids.

She was sucked into this once again. While she didn’t cry for the students of the Institute she painted them as very sympathetic children. Human kids with gifts that the worlds saw as threats to the lively hood of the world, when they weren’t. Hope rubbed her eyes and looked over at the digital clock on the table. It was well past midnight, and Hope was feeling tiered. I don’t have the early shift tomorrow at Charity, Hope thought, closing down the laptop, I can sleep in, since the children will have school in the mornings. Hope finally tested the bed, decided it was good enough to sleep in and totally conked out.