The Measure of Tomorrow

Posted on Fri Apr 11th, 2025 @ 8:17pm by Scott Summers & Connor Bruin & Hank McCoy & Jean Grey & Cecilia Reyes M.D.

1,478 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Episode 6: X-Fernus Agenda
Location: X-Mansion | Labs
Timeline: December 14th, 1990

It began, as most endings did, in silence.
The hum of the lab’s equipment was no different than usual, the same soothing mechanical cadence Hank McCoy had grown so intimately acquainted with over the years. But today, that familiar drone reverberated differently. Finality hung in the air like static.

He stood alone for the moment, pawing absently at a cluttered drawer, only half-focused on the act of sorting its contents. His blue-furred fingers brushed over half-forgotten gadgets, empty test vials hastily thrown loose into the drawer before being forgotten, and a slightly bent framed photo of the original X-Men—back when they were young, reckless, and certain they were changing the world.

And maybe they had. But time had a way of wearing down even the boldest ambitions. And with time came change.
Hank leaned back, eyes sweeping across the lab that had, at times, been his sanctuary, his battlefield, his confessional. How many nights had he spent here running simulations, chasing theories, or desperately trying to cram for his many dissertations? How many cups of over-steeped tea? How many moral lines danced around and occasionally over?
Thinking back to the first time he’d been given this space, he had only been a teenager. He was granted it by Charles Xavier himself with a hand on his shoulder and a look of paternal pride. It had been a moment of affirmation, a declaration of trust.

But now the torch was passing, as all torches must.

With Reed Richards’ invitation to join the Future Foundation and the ever-growing needs of X-Factor pulling him forward, the next season of life had come calling. There was no tragedy in it. Only... evolution.

Change, after all, was the essence of life.

Hank exhaled, long and slow. Then he plucked a well-worn notebook from the stack beside him—his very first field log—and slid it into a travel crate already marked for the Baxter Building.

Behind him, he heard the approaching footsteps of friends. They were part of this transition. For Hank had been many things. A student. A teacher. An X-Man. And now... something new.

He smiled. “Time to see what tomorrow measures,” he murmured aloud—half to himself, half to the ghosts that lingered here.

“WHAT ARE WE DOING DOWN HERE?” Connor signed to the group who had entered along with him.

“Helping Hank move out, he has equipment that he wants to take with him.” Jean replied to Connor as they entered the sterile white lab. Benchtop science had never been her passion but a room like this one would forever remind her of Hank.

“This place… it gets curiouser and curiouser,” Cecilia muttered to no one in particular as she looked around the lab with wide eyes. “What other hidden assets are you keeping from me?”

“THERE IS A JET HANGAR.” Connor's monotone speaker left any vocal inflection to be desired and he had already moved on to an object of fixation.

“Ignore him,” Scott quipped as he brought up the rear.

But that was easier said than done. As soon as Connor had so much as crossed the threshold, he was whooping like a kid in a candy store.

“THIS REMINDS ME OF MOIRA'S LAB ON MUIR ISLAND.” Connor beamed ear to ear while examining everything from the proton microscope to the supply shelf.

“I'm delighted to see that you like it so much,” Hank said with a twinkle in his eye. “I was not many years younger than you when Charles first gave me his leave to tinker down here, but I don't think I was half as exuberant.”

Scott snorted. “Sure you were,” he cut in with his glib way.

“Be that as it may,” Hank went on, sparing a side eye for Scott, “my work is leading me to the city, and so I have come to realize it was time to pass this place on to those who would appreciate it, both the capabilities and the heritage it holds.”

Connor was only half listening at that point, leaving Hank's subtlety lost on him while he kept taking stock of the lab’s set-up.

“Is that a TC1 DNA Thermal Cycler?” Dr. Reyes asked with a degree of enthusiasm that matched Connor’s. “I didn’t think private labs could afford one of these.” She reached out and caressed the lid of the machine. There was an enormous amount of information that could be gained with a PCR machine.

“You didn’t think the Dr. Henry McCoy could publish all those papers without having access to the latest and the greatest.” Jean flashed Cecilia a smile, “Only the best for our good doctors around here.”

“And here I thought you were driving to Bard this whole time…” Cecilia chuckled as she started to rummage through the chemical cabinets.

With the vultures descending, Jean glanced at the box Hank had just finished packing. “Just the one?”

“From here? Yes.” Hank gave the box a pat. “None of this equipment is original, except for my very first microscope which I've tucked away. Everything else is better served staying with the lab's new proprietor.”

Hank’s dark eyes drifted over to Connor where they lingered, his twinkle returning.

“WHY ARE YOU STARING AT ME?” Connor asked.

“Weren’t you listening?” Scott said.

“YES,” Connor confirmed. “HANK IS BEQUEATHING THE LAB TO NEW OWNERS.”

Hank chuckled softly, folding his arms as he leaned against one of the empty workstations. “‘A society grows great when old men plant trees whose shade they know they shall never sit in.’ It took several years to get the lab the way I wanted it, but now I look forward to seeing what you accomplish here.”

“WAIT.” Connor began blinking rapldy. “YOU MEAN ME? I AM THE NEW OWNER.” He thumped his chest twice and started hooting. His hands fluttered rapidly in growing excitement as he signed faster than the voice modulator could process. “I WILL NOT LET YOU DOWN. I WILL HONOR THIS LAB. I WILL NAME THE NEXT EXPERIMENT AFTER YOU. EVEN IF IT’S JUST A YEAST CULTURE.”

That earned a round of quiet chuckles from the room.

“And,” Hank added with a gracious nod toward Cecilia, “it should go without saying, Doctor Reyes, that anyone who bears that title of yours, past, present, or future, has free and full use of this space. If you can find a clear surface under all of Connor’s future projects, of course.”

“I can’t believe Charles let me pout over the end of my research without saying anything about this place.” Cecilia scolded the man even though he wasn’t present. “I think I could do a lot of good with access to a lab like this. Thank you, Dr. McCoy.”

Hank nodded with gracious delight.

“The end of an era,” Jean said wistfully as she telekinetically carried Hank’s belongings out of the room. “I’m glad you’re joining us in the Baxter building, part of me thought you might never leave.”

“Does anybody truly leave this place fully intact?” Hank mused aloud. “I suspect many of us depart with something of ourselves left behind. I certainly feel such is the case here and now.”

Letting out a sigh, he said, “But what lies in store is simply too great to turn down. Knowing that my first lab is left in capable and caring hands is consolation enough.”

“CAN I LIVE DOWN HERE?” Connor asked.

“I think you will miss your bed sooner or later.” Jean chuckled in response to Connor’s enthusiasm. She liked seeing him excited about new things and uncaring about change. He had come a long way since his arrival at Xavier’s.

“And I don’t want to find you sleeping at the desk when I come into work,” Cecilia commented as she continued to explore the lab. “We’re sharing this space, remember?”

Connor rolled his eyes and let out a sigh. “FINE.” He looked petulant, but it didn’t last long. “NO SLEEPING OR EATING OR OTHER BODILY FUNCTIONS BESIDES BREATHING.”

“Okay…” Now it was Scott’s turn to sigh and lower his head. “Hank, is there anything else we can help you with?”

Shaking his head, Hank took his lab coat and made ready to leave. “No, Scott, I believe the time is upon us. Tarrying any longer would serve no purpose.” He leapt to the doorway in a single bound, landing in a crouch. “Reach out to the Future Foundation anytime,” he said over his shoulder to both the actual doctor and a potentially aspiring one. “We will do the same. Farewell!”

With that, Hank bounded away down the hall, leaving Scott and Jean to catch up.

“I don’t know why he’s in such a hurry,” Scott mused aloud. “We have the keys to the Jeep.”

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