The Longest Night: Part Three

by Kerri

"Excuse me?"

The fourth floor night nurse looked up. "What can I do for you?" She really didn't sound like she wanted to be helpful.

"I'm looking for Dr. Allen."

The nurse looked her up and down. She saw a woman of mixed blood, about 5'10", slender with long black hair and amber eyes in a face that should have been on a magazine cover, Caucasian features with traces of Native American. She hated her on sight.

"I don't know exactly where the doctor is right now."

"Would you page him for me, please?" The words were pleasant enough, but it wasn't a request.

"Your name?" For someone who supposedly dedicated her working career to helping others, she was making a very good show of personal inconvenience.

"Del Bennett." She pulled a business card from her pocket. "Mutant Advocate Coalition. We were notified two mutants were admitted this evening."

***

The Mutant Advocate Coalition, MAC, came into being shortly after controversy hit San Francisco on the treatment of mutants in hospitals and clinics around the city.

In a place known for its tolerant views and a time celebrated for personal freedoms, the mutant question was not the legal and moral hotbed it was in some areas but there had been a few problems. Medical care was one of the more difficult issues. Most hospitals and clinics didn't want to treat mutants, more from the security aspect than anything medical. MAC was created to help mediate the situations that could arise. At some point in its history, the group grew into representing mutants in a variety of situations, from medical care to outright legal defense of mutant rights.

Del Bennett was a founding member of the group at its inception 35 years ago when she and several friends were in the position of finding medical help for a friend suffering from pneumonia. Stephen could increase the surface temperature of any inanimate object he touched. Finding a doctor who was willing to treat him frustrated them to no end. He died, painfully, slowly, coughing up blood and burning with fever.

They started MAC in a back room of a boarding house the night after the service, with one card table, an old phone, and the AMA listings of every doctor in the area. Their first meeting had 4 members, all mutants, and enough funds to buy a pizza for dinner, all that was left after they buried their friend. They shouldn't have bothered with dinner, none of them could eat after the dreary service. Even his parents had not attended.

Since that time MAC had grown to include 200 active members, well-equiped offices in what was reportedly a rundowned section of town, satellite offices in four other majors cities and a rather impressive list of contributors, among them Worthington Enterprises and Frost Industries.

They chose the office location for its accessibility to their clientele. There was never any trouble; they'd never had a break-in, or worse. Many people didn't want to interfere with a good thing, the security company hired to protect the premises dealt with those that did.

It helped, too, that they didn't restrict their efforts to just mutants. Anyone that came through their doors received whatever assistance available. All they asked was that non-mutants try the 'normal' channels for help first. They were able to enforce that request due of the number of psi employees on staff.

MAC had a team of lawyers on retainer specializing in affirmative action and personal rights, contacts in nearly every major hospital in the country and in many police departments, too. Their personal staff had 75 permanent employees, 50 more volunteers and could boast additional temporary staff 7-8 months of the year. The employment assistance branch of their group already had placed more than 100 mutants in suitable jobs, some with the security company that patrolled the area.

All in all, Del was proud of what they'd accomplished.

So much so, she wasn't needed full time anymore. She'd turned her attention over to personal projects. Like the one that ended up on her fax machine tonight.

***

The nurse gave the card and the woman a sneer, then gestured down the hall. "Room 424 and 426." She hated mutants, but the administrative policy was to allow MAC to represent any mutant admitted without interference. With a disgusted flourish she ripped the card in half and dropped it in the trash can.

***

A heated discussion was underway outside Room 424. Heated discussion was a polite phrase. Del's mutant empathy power picked up violent emotions barely held in check. A white coat, presumably the doctor, argued with a brunette. Several nurses stood back behind him, as did a group of people behind her. Something told her she found her newest clients.

"I'm having him transferred." the brunette told him.

"I am his doctor," White Coast insisted.

"I am the next of kin." Her tone was cold, a woman dangerously close to the edge. She was the one throwing off all that emotion. "He's being transferred as soon as possible."

Del stepped forward just as a large blond man reached for the angry woman.

"Perhaps I can help clear things up," Del told the group.

"Who're you?" The doctor scowled at her.

"Del Bennett, MAC. We were informed two mutants were admitted tonight. Car accident." She looked from one to the other.

It didn't seem possible the doctor's face could turn a redder shade, but it did. "Oh, hell!" Now he'd never get anymore blood. The first sample piqued his interest with unusual proteins chains he'd never seen before. He did have the one sample in the lab. With a glare he turned to stomp off down the hallway.

After a pointed look from the brunette the nurses followed suit.

Then her attention turned on Del.

Del returned the appraisal. The young woman had quite an attitude, Del estimated her to be 5-6 years younger than her own apparent age. Then she got a look in the woman's eyes.

The same eyes that stared at her every morning in her mirror, still filled with the golden fire generated by the argument.

"What exactly is MAC?" the brunette demanded.

"Your name?" Del could barely get the words out, her mouth had gone dry.

"Charlotte Ashcroft. Well?"

She tried to swallow. Had someone kicked on the heat in here? "Mutant Advocate Coalition." That funny, queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach that came with the fax just grew to epic proportions. She was standing on the edge of a cliff about to tumble over into.....what?

"Nice of you to come out, but the situation is under control."

Del didn't hear her. She saw the dark head on the pillow inside the room and found herself drawn in, *dragged* in, right up to the bedside looking down into a face she'd only seen once in her life, nearly 80 years ago, in a picture her mother burned when she was a child, a face that seared itself into her mind and visited her dreams.

***

"...who is that man, Mama..."

"...no one, sweetheart. Just someone I knew a long time ago..."

"...what's his name?.."

"...his name is Thomas Ashcroft..."

"...he has the same hair I do..."

"...I know..."

"...why are you crying, Mama?..."

***

The brunette, no, she had a name, Charlotte, stood on the other side of the bed, her hand against his arm protectively.

"Are you his daughter?" Del asked. Was this a sister? She wasn't alone?

Charlotte didn't pay close attention to the other woman. She had other things on her mind right now. "No, I'm not. I told you, Miss Bennett, we don't need any assistance."

"Wife?"

Charlotte's face twisted into a snarl that would have done Logan proud. "I don't have the time nor the inclination to answer any questions."

"Wait a minute," Jean moved up beside Charlotte. "Look at her, Char, really look at her."

Charlotte let out a warning sound, but Jean shook her head. "No. Look. At. Her."

Charlotte raised her eyes and stared into the other woman's face. Amber eyes met hers, the long dark hair and cheekbones so familiar to her. She released a breath. ~Who is your family?~ she asked.

Del looked at her blankly. "I don't understand you."

Charlotte looked even closer to violence than she had dealing with the doctor. "Who is your family?!" she hissed out between clenched teeth.

"I don't have any family. Except for him," she nodded at Thomas. "I think he's my father." Why was she saying these things to these strangers?

"That can't be possible," Charlotte said.

"It is possible," Hank said to her.

"I know it's possible," she snapped, "but it's not possible. Thomas would never father and abandon a child. It's not in him." She shot a look at Matthew, who shrugged back. He had no clue about this himself.

"A simple blood test would prove it."

"I can't think about this right now. First thing we get him out of here and to the summer house. They'll be there soon. I can think about this out later."

Emma's face appeared in the doorway. "I've arranged for transportation for them both back to Westchester." She gave the room full of people an appraising look.

"Thanks, Emma, but I'm taking him to my house. He needs to be there now." Emma still looked cool and calm after spending the rest of the sleepless night at Jubilee's bedside. Charlotte felt a moment's envy for her composure.

Emma nodded. "Is there anything left to be done?"

Charlotte's hands tightened on the bed rail. "No, thank you. I'll be gating him out as soon as Derek can arrange his release. Hopefully within the next few hours."

"It would be better to have him transported with Jubilee," Nathan said, "than just disappear with him. Fewer questions that way."

Charlotte gave him a reluctant nod.

"Wait!" Del spoke up, alarmed. "You can't leave." She'd just found her father, she couldn't lose him now.

"Come with us," Jean said. "It'll be all right." She glanced at Hank, who gave her his agreement. "We'll sort this out back home."

Derek's phone call to the administrator got the both patients released before business hours began, after Charlotte signed everything they sat in front of her, taking responsibility for Thomas's welfare and absolving the hospital of all liability if the move proved to be traumatic. The paper work took longer then expected, the office manager did not yet have her wits fully knitted together. The ambulance arrived and the two patients were ready to go before she was finished in the accountant's office.

Dr. Allen reluctantly signed the release forms, notating on the record that he was signing under protest.

"You go ahead," Nathan told Jean and Emma, "We'll bodyslide to the airfield when she's done."

Jean agreed. "The sooner we get them home the better."

Charlotte's hands clenched into fists. She didn't want to let him out of her sight, not even for a short period of time.

<I'll take care of him,> Jean assured her again softly.

<Please...> She was beginning to hate herself for the number of times she felt herself begging.

Jean squeezed her arm and stepped up into the ambulance to sit on the bench seat and take Thomas's large hand in hers.

Del stopped her before she turned away to focus on the remaining tasks. "Please, tell me. Who are you?"

"If you're right and Thomas is your father, that makes me your grandmother." She didn't look to see the shock on the other woman's face. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered, except Thomas and Jubilee. "Stay with 'Uncle' Matthew," she focused on her 'second' son, "and I'll meet up with you both in Westchester." Del began to protest again, but Charlotte cut her off. "Hank will want to run his blood tests."

Nathan stood with her watching the ambulance and the hired limousine pull away. With a small mental whimper she was unable to suppress, she turned away to go back inside and finish the paperwork.

The sun was a large ball of light through the dark gray fog. Dawn had arrived.

[next part]

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