Eye of the Beholder

Author's Notes: I know Stuart seems to have gone off the deep end, but please trust me, I know what I'm doing and all will be explained in this chapter. And before I get blasted by any more gun owners (HAH! I made a punny!), remember what Amanda told Hank ages ago. The shotgun is filled with rock salt which would do damage and hurt like hell, but wouldn't kill Hank and Hank knows this. A big thank you to Aymiah, onewing, Cougar, MrFantastiBeast, Anon, blue_lioness, Cass, Dragonpink, WeepingAngelOfDeath, Capt_Davy_Jones_Lover, A Fan, Toast (x2) and Kris_A for your reviews. Also, for those who have been reading my Beauty and the Beast Within story, I updated on 4/27.

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Stuart stares at the end of his gun for several seconds, disbelief at the ease at which Hank crushed the metal warring with the reality that his weapons is now useless. In a pique of rage, he drops the gun and launches himself at the large blue man, catching him by surprise. He ignores the voices of his wife and daughter as they yell at him and attempts to beat off this creature who is trying to take away his little girl.

Startled at first, Hank does nothing to stop the attack on his person for a moment, at which point Amanda and her mother start shouting at Stuart. Hank deftly grabs the man's flying fists, pinning them behind his back and then catching him a bear hug as he easily lifts the other man off of the ground. Stuart starts thrashing, kicking with all of his strength in hopes of hitting his target while Beast starts screaming for blood and its almost more than Hank can take.

“ENOUGH!” Hank bellows as he uses his body and considerable strength to throw the other man into a sizable snowdrift.

There's about a second of dead silence before both women start to move again and all Hank can do is stand there as Cathy runs past him towards her husband. He's too busy fighting Beast back from taking over to be worried that he may have hurt the man as Amanda comes up to him and softly calls his name. He's so strung out by this that it's not until Amanda's hand guides his face to look at her and he can see her concern that he starts to calm down.

“Are you alright?” she softly asks, her hand never leaving his face.

“I'm fine now, thank you,” he assures her as he relieves her of the bags she's carrying.

“I'm sorry,” she says as sadness and exhaustion pull her shoulders down.

“For what?” he inquires as he carefully places the satchels in the trunk.

“For putting you through all of this,” she morosely answers. “For making you put up with my family. I warned you that they were crazy.”

“You most certainly did warn me, but you didn't put me through this,” he replies as he pulls her into an embrace. “I volunteered.”

“Which really makes me wonder who's the craziest person here,” she teases as she hugs him back as best she can while buries her face in the fur on his neck. “God, when did we walk into a soap opera?”

He chuckles in response as he nuzzles his nose into her hair, not really carrying what her parents might think. Not that they're really paying attention to anything the younger couple is doing since Stuart hasn't crawled out of the snowbank and it doesn't look like he's about to move anytime soon.

“Stuart!” Cathy growls from her spot next to the snowdrift with a Stuart sized hole in it. “Get out of there this instant!”

“No,” is Stuart's muffled response and Cathy glares down into the hole.

“You've gone off your medication again, haven't you?” she demands with a snarl several seconds later, her eye's narrowing to mere slits.

“I don't need to take any stupid pills,” Stuart grumbles back. “I'm fine without them.”

“Because attacking your daughter's boyfriend who happens to also be the US Ambassador to the UN and then lying in the snow are perfectly fine things to do,” Cathy snaps back as she reaches into the hole. “Now get out of there, get inside and then we're setting up another appointment with your doctor. And this time you're going!”

“I don't want to see that quack,” Stuart nearly whines as Cathy starts to tug on him.

“What's wrong with Dad that he needs medication?” Amanda asks, reluctantly leaving Hank's arms to move towards her parents. “What type of doctor is he seeing?”

“Nothing's wrong with your father,” Cathy hastily responds, looking rather nervous. “Just finish packing up the car.”

“He threatens Hank with a gun and then attacks him with his bare hands and nothing's wrong!?” Amanda nearly yells. “Sing me another one, Mom, because I'm not believing that bull for a moment.”

“From the way Stuart has been acting, I would hazard to guess that the medication is of a psychotropic nature,” Hank muses as he watches Cathy continue to try and get her husband out of the snow.

“Psychotropic?” Amanda questions, looking back over her shoulder at him. “Like an antidepressant?”

“Yes, something like that,” he replies, still keeping an eye on her parents. “But I have a feeling that your father may be more than just depressed.”

Before she can ask for any more information, he moves towards her parents. Cathy is still trying to pull Stuart out of the snow with no luck. Amanda slowly follows behind him, mindful of any rocks that may be hidden under the powdery stuff.

“Would you care for some help?” Hanks asks when he reaches the older woman. “I hope I didn't hurt him.”

“No, he's fine,” Cathy replies as she gives another tug on her husband. “It's probably best if you two just got going. He'll come out faster if you're not here.”

“What's wrong with him, Mom?” Amanda inquires and Hank quickly slips a steadying hand under her elbow when she wobbles a bit. “And don't tell me every thing's fine. Why is he taking medication and why did he go off the deep end when he went off of it?”

With a sigh, Cathy lets go of whatever part of Stuart she has hold of and stares down at him.

“He's manic depressive,” Cathy softly answers after several seconds of silence. “He can go into violent fits as well as depressed slumps when he's off of his meds.”

“It's called Bipolar Disorder now,” Hank gently corrects.

“You can change the name of the problem, but it doesn't change the problem,” Cathy nearly snaps and then sighs sadly. “You two should get going. You have a long drive ahead of you.”

“We should get him out of the snow,” Hank points out.

“I'll have Mike help me,” Cathy responds.

“I'm sorry for causing such a disruption in your family and your holidays,” Hank says forlornly.

“It's not your fault, Hank,” Cathy assures him as she finally turns and faces the large blue mutant. “It's not your fault that the Bronco broke down and caused the train wreck, making you come here. It's not your fault that Annie didn't tell Mike about her condition as soon as she found out and instead let it eat her up inside until it came out at the worst possible moment. It's most certainly not your fault that Stuart's ego got the better of his common sense again and made him go off of his pills. I know you must think of us as a bunch of wackos, but we're not normally this bad. Perhaps it's best that you and Amy head back to New York so everything can start to get back to normal for everyone. If we haven't scared you off, you're more than welcome to come here for Easter.”

“We'll be in Dunfee, Illinois for Easter,” Amanda states before Hank can open his mouth.

“What's in Dunfee, Illinois?” Cathy asks, a frown creasing her brow.

“Hank's family,” Amanda answers as she looks up at him and the joy on his face could quite possibly light up Time's Square. “It's only fair that I go and meet his family after he's met mine.”

“Mom will be delighted to know that you're coming,” Hank tells her with a big grin. “But I must warn you, my family can be quite the hand full too.”

“After these past few days I've just had, I'll gladly take my chances,” Amanda replies as they start to head for the car. “Besides, as an added bonus, I'll be able to hear all of the embarrassing things you did when you were growing up.”

He groans at the thought and she chuckles at him as they reach his car.

“Have a safe trip home,” Cathy says as she starts to head for the front door. “Call me when you get home, Amy, to let me know that you got home safely.”

“Ok, Mom,” Amanda reluctantly agrees while Hank stows the last of her bags in the trunk.

As soon as that's done, Hank helps her into the car, getting the blanket out of the back seat to tuck it around her legs to help keep her warm. He shuts her door and turns to head towards the driver's side of the car, seeing Mike and Cathy hauling Stuart out of the snow. He briefly wonders if he should go help, but decides that the man probably wouldn't appreciate his presence. Instead, he slides behind the wheel so that he and his lady can start their long journey home.

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She wakes as the sound of the engine lowering in pitch and she can feel the car starting to slow down. She takes a deep breath just before she lets out a yawn and stretches as well as she can in the confined space of the car. She finally sits up with a small, pain filled groan and blearily looks around as he carefully navigates the off ramp from the interstate.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Like I was hit by a truck,” she groggily replies. “Where are we?”

“Harrisburg, Pennsylvania,” he answers as he slows for a stop sign at the end of the off ramp.

“Why?” she asks, still trying to blink the sleep out of her eyes while he turns right.

“To sleep, perchance to dream,” he quotes and she looks at him funny. “I'm afraid that even I tire and must find a place to rest my weary head.”

“How much further until we reach New York?” she questions just before another yawn hits her and he stops for a red light.

“Probably another three hours or so,” he replies as the light turns green and he gently steps on the gas.

“Do you want me to drive?” she questions.

“No and with the medication you're taking, it's not advisable either,” he tells her as he slows and turns right into a hotel's driveway but he continues on at a very sedate pace. “This is a nice hotel, but I'm afraid that it's not very mutant friendly.”

“So why are we here if they don't like mutants?” she asks

“They actually have a room available,” he responds. “I spent quite a bit of time trying to find someplace and this is what I could find.”

“But what's the point if they won't give you the room because you're a mutant?” she inquires.

“I have ways around that,” he answers as he reaches for the watch on his wrist.

With a push of a button, the blue, furry mutant sitting next to her disappears and is replaced by a perfectly ordinary looking man. There's a sharp intake of breath from the woman beside him and he reaches for her. She slightly flinches back as he gently strokes her cheek with the back of his hand so she can feel the fur still there.

“It's alright, my love, it's still me,” he assures her. “It's just an allusion.”

She doesn't trust her voice so all she does is nod and with great reluctance, he takes his hand away as they pull up in front of the hotel's entrance. A moment later, the valet is helping her out of the car while Hank goes around to the trunk and starts getting their bags out. Not sure which bags she'll need, he simply grabs all of them for expedience and places them on the waiting luggage cart.

Figuring that the bitter cold is what's driven her to go inside before he was done, he swiftly follows her while the bellhop brings up the rear. He gets them checked in as quickly as he can, providing the ID he keeps with his normal looking self in the picture. When he's done, he sees her off to the side looking around and when he comes up to her, she only glances at him.

He places a hand on the small of her back and she flinches slightly again before she allows him to guide her towards the elevators. Figuring that she's simply nervous because of the hotel's less then friendly stance towards mutants, he pays it no more mind. All he can think about right now is a warm, soft bed and sleeping with his lady beside him.

Once they're in their room, he goes to help her get out of her coat, but she's managing fine on her own, so he shrugs his own off. He carefully hangs his coat over the back of a chair as she simply tosses hers onto the foot of the bed. With a patient smile, he picks up the garment and hangs it up while she struggles to get her boots off.

As soon as her coat is hung up, he kneels down in front of her and starts to help her with her footwear. She jerks back and the boot easily slides off of her foot, but she continues to back away until the bed stops her. He looks up at her in confusion and sees that she's clearly upset.

“Amanda?” he softly calls, but she won't look directly at him as she tries to move around the bed.

“Please turn it off,” she nearly begs as someone knocks at the door.

“Turn what off?” he asks, perplexed by her behavior and she points to his wrist. “I'll turn off the inducer in just a moment.”

He stands and heads for the door, opening it to the bellhop who's delivering their luggage. The bags are quickly unloaded and the man tipped with the 'Do Not Disturb' sign hung on the door handle before the door is closed and locked. He returns to her, finding her sitting on the bed and struggling to get her other boot off. He's rather surprised when she scoots back over the bed when he reaches for her.

“Please turn it off,” she pleads.

“I'm sorry,” he responds as he quickly turns the inducer off.

“Thank you,” she sighs when she sees his familiar face return.

“It's just a hologram, an illusion,” he points out as he slowly moves towards her and she scoots back to the edge of the bed.

“I know, but it was just a bit too weird for me to take right now,” she tells him as she reaches out and strokes his face while he kneels down before her again. “I don't know what's wrong with me.”

“You've been through a rather traumatic experience that included you getting a rather nasty bump on your head,” he reminds her while he slides her boot off. “It shouldn't surprise either of us that little things like my appearance suddenly changing would upset you.”

“I guess,” she replies as her fingers move onto his mane.

He closes his eyes, thoroughly enjoying her gentle ministrations and he carefully lays his head down on her lap. Her fingers work their way down to his skin, her nails start to gently scratch the skin on his scalp and he hums with pleasure. She bites her lip to keep from laughing at his behavior as she tries to figure out if he's acting more like a giant blue cat or dog.

He sighs happily as he relaxes further, his muscles becoming mush while her nails work their magic on him. He lets out a groan of pleasure when she finds just the right spot just behind his ear and he rubs his cheek against her thighs. He ignores the soft snickering he hears and simply wraps his arms around her to get more comfortable, sleep luring him into its clutches despite the awkward position he's in.

“Hank?” she softly calls as she pulls her fingers out of his soft fur and starts petting his mane.

“Hmmmm?” he hums happily.

“I have to get up now,” she tells him and a small frown creases his face as a quiet growl escapes his throat making her smile. “Hank, I really do need to get up.”

“Why?” he grumbles, finally cracking open an eye to look up at her.

“For one, my legs are going numb,” she answers which makes him move some of his weight off of her. “I also need to use the bathroom.”

With a sigh of defeat, he sits back, releasing her from his hold. She slides off of the bed and immediately wobbles a bit unsteadily. He quickly reaches out and gently grabs a hold of her hips to steady her.

“Are you alright?” he asks worriedly.

“Yeah, just being my wobbly self thanks to those stupid drugs,” she replies as she brushes some rogue strands of hair out of his face. “I'll be fine in a moment. You can let go now.”

“In a moment,” he responds as he starts to nuzzle her belly.

“Hank, I really do need to use the bathroom and where you're pushing on isn't helping the problem,” she points out, her voice slightly strained.

With a sigh and a slight pout, he lets her go and she chuckles. She kisses the top of his head before walking around him and heading into the restroom.

Mate? Beast questions hopefully.

Do we have that type of energy? Hank counters as he looks over his shoulder at her just as she bends over at the waist to get something out of her bag.

Yessssss, Beast moans.

Hank can feel his blood starting to head south and without much prompting by Beast, he's on his feet. He silently comes up behind her and gently starts to caress her jean covered cheeks, startling her. She lurches forward in surprise, tripping over the bags and starts to lose her balance. His arm quickly snakes out, wrapping around her middle and then he pulls her against him.

“You want something?” she teasingly asks as he starts to nuzzle her ear.

“You,” he softly growls just before nipping her neck which causes her to gasp.

“Let me use the bathroom first and then you can have your way with me,” she moans as she leans against him, feeling her body heat up in all the right places.

“Don't take too long,” he tells her, reluctantly releasing her since he can smell her arousal. “I'm not sure how patient I can be right now.”

She gives him a suggestive leer over her shoulder just before she disappears into the bathroom and he groans as more of his blood heads below the belt. He leans against the wall for a moment, waiting for his blood to stop rushing away from his brain. Once he's sure he's not going to fall down, he strips down to his boxers and then retrieves a special brown bag from his luggage.

He quickly heads back towards the bed and gets it ready for some vigorous activities. He happily hums to himself as he stuffs the little bag between the pillows and the headboard again. He turns an ear towards the bathroom to see if she's almost done and he can hear her brushing her teeth. He runs his tongue over his own fangs and decides that they could use a scrubbing as well.

“A little impatient, aren't we?” she teases when she opens the door and finds him standing there.

“My turn,” he playfully growls as he holds up his own tooth brush and paste.

“Don't take too long,” she tells him as she walks past him, raking her nails gently across his stomach, just above the band of his boxers. “I'm not sure how patient I can be right now.”

He groans as he feels his cock jump with her touch and she chuckles as she goes to put her things away. It takes quite a bit of self control to not grab her, throw her onto the bed and make wild love to her and oral hygiene be damned. Instead, with great deliberate care, he goes into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind him

By the time he emerges, Beast is almost in a frenzy over the delay and he has to keep fighting it back in order not to jump her without the benefit of foreplay. He returns his items to their rightful place in his luggage, barely noticing that most of the lights are off and turns to find her sitting in bed drawing. He remembers Doug's words about her tuning everything out as he quietly stalks towards her.

He slips into bed next to her and she doesn't even glance over at him. He sidles up to her and slips his arms around her, effectively stopping her in her creative tracks. She looks over at him and is met by his intense gaze that immediately shoots a bolt of electricity between her legs.

He gathers her pencil and paper into his large hand before tossing them to the side. She opens her mouth to protest but the only sound to come out is a whimper as his lips find her ear and start to nibble on the delicate flesh. She moans as he pulls her into his lap and her arms snake their way around his neck, holding him close as his mouth slowly torments her.

He slides a hand up her top, caressing the soft skin and losing all rational thought from just the feeling of it. His lips find hers just as his hand locates her breast and she moans into his mouth while she pushes her chest into his hand. The kiss deepens as his other hand roughly grabs her hip and she lets out a startled cry of pain.

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“To sleep, perchance to dream” - Hamlet