X-Men Imagines

Stab: Hank

Warning: knives, stab wound, scars, blood, and stitches. Please read with caution, or not at all. This is not used in a self harm way, it is used as an accident, but if these topics make you uncomfortable please feel free to skip.

Powers: You can call knives to you, and make knives move to where you want them to go when you throw them. (Worded awkwardly😬)

Hank was currently standing in the doorway of the kitchen watching your squatted figure look for something to eat in the fridge. He was trying to work up the nerve to talk to you. You would often start a conversation with him throughout the day, but he wanted to start one with you to show that he had the same amount of interest in you as you did him.
Hank actually thought that he had more interest in you than you did in him because he had a big ol' crush on you. But that just made initiating a conversation even harder.
After about ten more seconds of watching, Hank got a burst of confidence and stepped into the kitchen on a creaky floor board. The creak made you stiffen and you went into attack mode. That was one thing to be avoided about you; you shouldn't be startled. It didn't happen often, but when it did a knife would quickly be involved. It's not that you wanted to hurt the person who snuck up on you, it was just a reflex. And that's exactly what happened, you reacted and the noise of a knife being stapled into the doorframe could be heard through the mansion. You didn't turn around because there was no yelp or scream, so you didn't think anyone was there. That is, until you heard the 'thunk' of the knife being pulled out of wood.
You whipped around and saw Hank standing in the doorway, looking at the knife...that was stabbed all the way through the palm of his hand.
"Oh my god! HANK!" You shouted in a regretful panic. Hank just stood there and looked at his hand in confusion, then he opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but instead he fainted. You used his unconscious time to pull the knife out of his hand and throw it in the sink. You picked him up in a fireman's carry and ran to the infirmary.
You flopped Hank on one of the paper covered hospital beds with his hand hanging off the bed and away from him. There was blood dripping off his fingertips and making a small puddle on the floor. No doubt there was blood on your back or somewhere on your body, but you were to focused on fixing his hand to worry about that.
You kicked a rolling stool over to the bed as you put supplies to stitch him up on a metal cart. You sped over to the the bed with the cart and sat on the stool. You put a rag on your knee, then the hand on the rag. You folded the rag onto the top of his hand and applied pressure to it with one of yours. You used your other hand to slop hydrogen peroxide onto a cotton pad so you could disinfect the wound.
If one were to only pay attention to what you were doing, they would think that you were doing pretty well. But, you were doing all of this with tears streaming steadily down your face and a painful knot lodged in your throat. If someone walked into the room and looked only at your face, they would assume that Hank was going to die.
After you wiped the blood away, you set his hand back on your knee so you could thread the needle so you could stitch him up. This was the time Hank decided to wake up. You didn't notice, so Hank took this as an opportunity to study you in the best lighting in the house.
He started at your hands then went up your arms and finished at your tear stained face. He took in every scar and scratch from your previous adventures and the tears and blood from your present adventure.
Hank was brought back from his thoughts when he felt you intertwine your hand ever so gently with his stitched one. He looked at both of your hands and noticed the difference between the both of you. You were sticky and covered in blood and he was clean and neatly sutured.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I hurt you and now your gunna have a scar." You whispered, still thinking he was knocked out. You wiped a tear from your face while transferring a red smear onto your cheek. "And so much of your blood is on me!" You looked down at yourself. The place where you put Hank's hand on your knee had a crimson stain, even though there was a rag there and your fingers had a similar color to them. Not to mention the small puddle at your feet.
"I think I have to apologize for the blood." Your head snapped up to look at Hank. He had a small smile on his face. Your eyes narrowed as you examined him.
"Why are you smiling?" You asked in a suspicious manner. Hank's smile grew.
"We're holding hands." Hank blushed after he said this. You just furrowed your eyebrows.
"What grade are you in?" Hank looked at you in a confused way.
"Uh, I graduated...college." He raised his eyebrow and waited form an explanation for your question.
"Ok, well, you were acting like you straight outta the 4th grade so I didn't know what to believe." You exaggerated a shoulder shrug then looked away from him. "And why would you care if we were holding hands? I did stab you after all. It was an accident, but it happened." Hank nodded.
"It was an accident and I forgive you for it. I also care that we're holding hands because I care about you and for a while I thought that I cared way more about you than you did me, but after seeing your reaction to all this, I think I'm wrong." You gave Hank a smirk.
"I talk to you all the time. What made you think I didn't care?" Hank stayed quiet for a moment.
"When I was in school, pretty girls would talk to me just so they could get help with their homework. But you don't have homework, so I thought you were talking to me out of pity, but you kept coming around so i thought you may care a little bit?" He hoped his assumption was correct.
"I care about you a lot, actually. And I would like to take you out on a date, if you are interested in going with me?" Your face heated up and you avoided eye contact.
"Yes. Uh hu, yes. Yes please and thank you!" Hank vigorously nodded his head as he talked. "I'm paying though." You shook your head in disagreement.
"No, I'm paying I stabbed you." After you register what just came out of your mouth you started to laugh. Looking at the whole scenario it seemed like a serial killer's fantasy. You stabbed him then asked him out on a date.
"Wha- you can't laugh at this yet, it's only been about 20 minutes since it happened!" Hank started to laugh too.

~outside the infirmary~

"Charles, I feel quite bad about making the knife go into his hand." Erik looked down a Charles who was looking through the slightly open door.
"I know, I feel bad about it too, but I was so tired of watching them beat about the bush. They just needed some alone time." The two men resumed their real life theater and tried not to laugh along with you both. "And look, they're still holding hands!"

A/n: Hoped you liked the twist. Have a wonderful day/evening😘