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When Hank McCoy's phone had rung late at night, waking him from his slouched position over his lab bench, he almost hadn't believed it. He selected a special ring tone for this specific caller, had wished to hear it for over a year now. Every week or so, he would call the number and leave a voicemail about his progress, or lack thereof, in finding a solution, to bring everyone back.
It did not even hit him until he picked up the phone and heard her voice. "Hello?" He had said.
"You are the cause of this, you know."
"Ms. Laska?"
"Why did you have to find me? Why did you have to have so much hope?" He could hear a tremble in her voice. "It is useless, Dr. McCoy. That is all I wish to tell you. Useless."
The next day, he had taken the jet to her forest hideaway. Despite his beastly appearance, he does not enjoy trekking through the woods up to her cave. Unlike last time, no one meets him with a gun or a threat. In fact, the cave is even devoid of animals and critters this time. He cautiously travels in, barely able to see down the darkening stone.
It feels like ages before he catches a hint of light. It brightens with each step until he finds what he could call a lab space. Computers set up in one corner with a machine in the center. It is practically pristine if it weren't for the cracked computer screen and the ripped papers scattered across the ground.
He flexes his hands, ready for a fight. Instead, he finds a girl curled up against the wall, simply staring at the machine. If he were naive, he would think her mind had left her, leaving an empty husk.
She does not look at him as he approaches but says, "It is only us here. And Marty." Indeed, the monkey sticks his head up from his spot tucked between her chest and her knees.
"You called?"
"You just had to involve yourself, didn't you?" Her gaze does not stray, but her voice begins cracking as if it were glass. "You had to have hope. Just like Ria. That I still felt things, that I'm still human inside, under everything they made me." Those words, familiar as they are, break his heart just a bit.
He had done some digging in their time apart. When he found Ria's file, he had been so desperate, he hadn't done the proper research. This girl, this poor girl, had been used for everything she could possibly give and more. Her hostility is understandable, expected even. Experimentation and its threat are nothing new to Hank or any mutant in this world. He knows that fear and that pain—had seen it on too many friends' faces over the years.
He cautiously steps toward her, kneeling down in front of her, trying to catch her gaze. "What happened?"
Ever so slowly, she lets her eye meet his. "I had an idea." It is only now, with this particular angle, that the low light reveals tears racing down her cheeks. "Time is a construct. Constructs can be altered. So I built this."
