Why Not Me

Posted on Mon Jul 13th, 2026 @ 9:00am by Cecilia Reyes M.D. & Drew Williams

2,080 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: Episode 8: Shadows Over Avalon
Location: Office of Cecilia Reyes, M.D.
Timeline: March 15, 1992 - 9:30am

Drew had been on emotional roller-coaster for the last 36 hours since arriving back at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters the night before last. He had felt helpless watching Angela put into a stasis pod. Though he had found some comfort in reconnecting with Jennifer, it was a secondary concern until he could find out more about Angela. The previous morning he'd woken up and quietly slipped out of his room without waking Jennifer. He had gone to breakfast and then went to the stasis chamber to sit in a chair in front of Angela's stasis pod. The feelings of fear and helplessness had been overwhelming. He had woken alone in his room this second morning and decided that wallowing in fear, uncertainty, and self-pity would be useless. He had eaten quickly and decided to speak with Dr. Reyes. He approached the doctor's office door and knocked twice.

"Come in," said a woman's voice that was rough around the edges and burdened by exhaustion.

Dr. Cecilia Reyes sat behind a desk that looked less like office furniture and more like a defensive fortification built entirely out of paperwork. Towers of patient files, laboratory reports, treatment requests, and research notes all threatened to collapse around her from the slightest disturbance. Somewhere beneath that chaos was an actual desktop, though no one had seen it in weeks. Her office adjoining the Med Bay had become a casualty of the Legacy Virus crisis. Between running the temporary hospital tent erected on the back lawn and overseeing research efforts to understand the disease, Cecilia barely had enough hours in the day to eat and sleep, much less organize paperwork.

"Mr. Williams." Her dark eyes narrowed slightly as she leaned back in her chair. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" she asked dryly. "Please tell me you're here because you need another IV treatment. At least that's a problem I know how to solve." She set down her pen and gestured vaguely toward the only chair in the room that wasn't covered in medical records. "If you're here to give me more paperwork, I should warn you I'm about five forms away from declaring war on the entire healthcare system."

Drew shook his head. He wasn't there for another IV. He wasn't necessarily there to give Dr. Reyes more paperwork, at least not yet. He had spent a great deal of time thinking about the Legacy Virus. Why had Angela contracted it and how? Why hadn't he fallen ill from the virus.

He had thought about his late father's work at Harvard Medical. He knew his father had attended several sponsored symposiums over the years. Even doing genetic research for the United States government during at least one sabbatical from his research fellowship.

He finally spoke from his position just inside the door. “I suppose I am curious. Why don't I have the Virus instead of Angela?”

“That is the million-dollar question every survivor is asking themselves,” Cecilia said, a note of defeat creeping into her voice. “And it's one that is particularly difficult to answer.”

As both a physician and a scientist, every instinct in her demanded that she find one. Yet anyone who had devoted their life to research knew the truth; discovery was an arduous, frustrating process where failure was far more common than success.

“We know that the Legacy Virus is a retrovirus, which means it inserts itself into the host cell's DNA. Once integrated, that viral DNA becomes a permanent part of the cell's genome and is copied every time a cell divides.” She paused briefly before continuing. “What's unusual is that this virus appears to specifically seek out and attack individuals carrying the X-Gene, almost as though it was engineered to identify and destroy anyone classified as a mutant.”

“That sounds simple enough to solve, doesn't it? Just block the virus from interacting with the X-Gene and people live. Unfortunately, it's nowhere near that simple. The term X-Gene is an extremely oversimplified label for a complex series of genetic expressions that ultimately result in the development of superhuman abilities. Just as mutant powers vary wildly from person to person, so does the underlying genetic structure that produces them. There isn't one universal sequence or single string of nucleotides shared by every mutant. The genetic diversity is every bit as broad and complicated as humanity itself.”

She sighed heavily. This was hardly the first time she had given this explanation. She had repeated some variation of it to government agencies, private corporations, and charitable foundations alike, desperately trying to secure support for her research. Every conversation seemed to end the same way, with polite interest and a door shut in her face.

“The virus appears to recognize and interact with certain genetic markers more readily than others. We see that reflected in how effectively it integrates into different hosts. Some people become critically ill almost immediately, while others experience symptoms no worse than a common cold… or none at all.”

Cecilia shrugged and let out a short laugh. At some point, humor had become her only reliable coping mechanism.
“So, the short answer?” she said with a faint smile. “You're just lucky.”

Drew frowned. He wasn't exactly one who believed in luck. He was a lot like his late father in that the universe was bound by physical laws of cause and effect. One of his speedster powers was an accelerated ability to heal from injuries and fight off illnesses. He wondered if this speedster healing could provide some method to help those afflicted. "I have an ability that...well...for lack of a better term, I call Speedster Healing. Is it possible that there's some way it could be used to help find a cure or at least adapted to prevent folks from catching this virus? Perhaps you could take some blood and tissue samples and conduct some tests."

“Maybe?” Cecilia said with a thoughtful shrug. “Logan can heal himself, and once he recovered from the Omega nanites, he was able to overcome the Legacy Virus as well. It’s definitely an avenue worth pursuing, and I’ll gladly accept any samples you’re willing to provide.”

Dr. Reyes gestured toward the towering stacks of documents behind her. While seated in her office chair, the piles rose above her head. “All of this is data; DNA sequences, medical records, and case histories from mutants who survived the virus, as well as those who succumbed to it. There’s value in every single file, the challenge is learning how to interpret what it’s trying to tell us.”

“We have the technology to sequence DNA, but we still don’t fully understand what we’re looking at. It’s like trying to decipher a biological Rosetta Stone, except every person’s genome is written in a different language.” The doctor’s voice carried a note of exhaustion as she spoke. Her work was intricate and painstaking, and at times it felt impossible. “If I had more help, we might find a cure within the next decade. But most institutions and corporations are reluctant to get involved. Keeping mutants alive is considered a controversial cause.” Her expression tightened with disgust. “The fact that anyone can think that way makes me sick to my stomach.”

Drew looked at the stacks of files that practically buried the desk Cecilia's desk he gestured to the mountain of paperwork. "I don't mind giving you blood samples, tissue samples. Anything that might help you get closer to a cure or even just a treatment. If you like I could read through some of this stuff. Help organize it for you if possible. I'm able to speed read. If you let me know what to look for." He sighed. "Perhaps you could contact Harvard Medical. There might be colleagues of my dad that have access to research notes he kept."

“Conducting controversial research would put Harvard's federal funding at risk,” Reyes explained. “Agencies like the NIH and NSF can suspend or revoke grants if they believe a project violates ethical standards or federal regulations. Beyond that, political pressure can be just as dangerous. Universities have been threatened with losing funding over issues that have nothing to do with the research itself.” She gave a humorless shake of her head. “Imagine asking the Commonwealth of Massachusetts to support or bankroll mutant health research after one of its most beloved senators was assassinated by a mutant. Even with the Mutant Registration Act some of its influence, I'd still consider Massachusetts one of the most prejudiced states when it comes to mutant rights. It would be a risky endeavor to ask for those records to be released... but... if those records just suddenly appeared here, I wouldn't scoff at them.”

With a weary sigh, Cecilia's gaze drifted across the towering stacks of paperwork that had all but swallowed her office. “I could really use a hand with all of this,” she admitted. “Moira and I have been working together to build a shared database online, and she's eager to digitize every patient record. I have to confess, though, I'm not nearly as computer savvy as she is.” She gestured toward the mountain of folders crowding her desk. “If you could read through these files, enter the relevant information into the Muir database, and then organize the paper records for archival reference, you'd be doing both Moira and me an enormous favor.”

Drew looked at the mountain of folders and then Cecilia's computer setup. He turned back to Cecilia. "Why don't you take a break, get yourself something to eat and drink. I'll get started on entering the files into the computer we can go from there once I am done."

"Are you sure you'll be alright here?" she asked as she rose to her feet. "It's a lot of work... and quite a mess."

Drew glanced at Cecilia by the door and nodded. "Yes ma'am perhaps a couple of cans of Jolt and about a half dozen candy bars." He opened the first folder and got the computer system warmed up. He took the first folder and used his speed reading ability to go through the contents of the folder. He took the sheets of paper out and set them on the hardcopy stand and began typing.

Drew cracked his knuckles as he finished typing the last data entry into the computer. He stood up, picked up the last handful of files and was heading to a filing cabinet when Cecilia returned. "Hey there Doctor Reyes. All done." He opened a drawer on the filing cabinet and placed the folders in separate drop files. He turned back to Cecilia.

Dr. Reyes had stepped out to check on the Legacy patients being treated in the makeshift hospital erected on Xavier's back lawn. By the time she returned, she stopped in the doorway, pleasantly surprised.

The mountains of files that had cluttered her desk were neatly sorted into organized stacks, and Drew sat comfortably in her chair, calmly working through what remained.

"Well, I'll be," she said with an appreciative smile as she stepped into the office. "You made remarkably quick work of all this. Thank you, Drew."

Drew gave Doctor Reyes a shy smile. "I'm a speedster. All I did was read the folder content, type everything word for word into separate files for each folder, then create computer folders that organized by patient, or test type, I had to create one miscellaneous folder for files I wasn't sure about. That's only got about a dozen files in it though. If you read through them you'll be able to move the files into a new computer folder." He pointed to the filing cabinets. "I organized all the hard copies alphabetically by last name. I hope that's okay."

“That’s perfect, Drew. Thank you,” Dr. Reyes said, taking in the office with an appreciative glance. It hadn't been this organized in months. “If you ever feel like tackling paperwork or helping me sort out the database again, you're more than welcome to.”

Drew nodded. His smile was a little melancholy, but also dedicated. "The more I can assist you, the more likely we can help Angela sooner then later. Just let me know if you ever need anything to help. Even if it's to go get you carry out." He extended his right hand towards Cecilia. "I'll leave you to it for now. Have a good night Doctor Reyes."

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