Part 2

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"Welcome to Westchester County Eye Clinic, Dr. McCoy."

"Please, call me Hank." Hank shook hands with hands with Dr. Bolson. He couldn't help but sniff the air to see if there was any fear permeating from the doctor. Hank was surprised when there was none, only curiosity. It comforted him that there was someone like Dr. Bolson, someone who wouldn't judge him because of his looks.

"Then you can call me Alec."

"Okay then, Alec." Hanks smiled, trying to conceal his fangs. "How's the patient?"

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" Alec asks him. "C'mon, he's this way." He leads Hank down the hall to Room 764. When he opens the door, Hank is surprised, though he doesn't know why. Sitting in a corner chair is a young man with blonde hair. He has a pair of headphones on, loud enough for Hank to hear the familiar beats of The Rolling Stones. His eyes were closed and face relaxed, until Alec stepped into the room. His eyes flew open, and he sat up straighter. Alex took off his headphones, opening his mouth to presumably ask who was there. "It's just me, Alex," Alec said.

Alex immediately relaxed back into the chair before he turned his head over towards where the two doctors were standing. His blue eyes were clouded over, making them a pale, milky color. "Who else is with you? I can smell their aftershave all the way over here."

Hank blushed. "Is it too much? If you don't like it, I can change—"

Alex laughed. The happy melody made a warmth sink into the pit of Hank's stomach. "Don't be such a bozo, its fine. I've just never smelled it before. I'm Alex." He held his hand out.

Hank made no move to go over to shake it. "I don't think you want to do that."

Alex raises an eyebrow in Hank's general direction. "Why's that?"

"You wouldn't like what you feel."

Alex snorts. "Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" He motions for Hank to come closer. "C'mere." Hank moves over to where Alex is still sitting. He holds out his hand hesitantly, and Alex automatically reaches out to take it. He gasps at the foreign feeling, but holds on tighter when Hank tries to pull away. He feels down Hank's life line to his claws, which he outlines gingerly before moving back up. Alex pauses when he reaches Hank's wrist. "You mind?" Hank's automatic reaction is to shake his head, but he manages to mumble no. Alex feels up his arm, the fur standing on end from where he touches it. Hank suppresses the shiver that tries to run through him at the intimate touch. It had been a while since anyone touched him with anymore than a pat on the back or a handshake.

After what feels like an eternity, Alex lets go. Hank feels bereft at the loss of touch, and is surprised at the animalistic whine that wants to escape his throat. Instead he clears his throat. "My name is Hank McCoy. I'm friends with your brother Scott. He was hoping I could help you." He's also trying to push my company on others unwillingly, Hank thought despondently.

"Nice to meet you, Bozo. As you can tell, I can't see. What do you look like?"

Hank blinks at the young man before him. He's only a year older than him, but at the moment, he appears younger, interest lighting up his face and brightening his opaque eyes somehow. "Um," Hank replies intelligently, "I don't really know anymore. It's been years since I've looked in a mirror."

"Why?"

Hank raises an eyebrow at the patient, and this is when he realizes that Alec has left. Hank gulps. Damnit. "Did you not just feel my paw? Why would I want to see that everyday? Why would I want to be reminded of how much I'm feared?" He takes a deep breath, taking a seat on the bed across from Alex. "I'm sorry, its just been a while since..."

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