Part ThreeThe pain tears through me like I’ve never known it. I’m crying I think. It’s hard to breathe.
Being shot is an unusual experience. It grates at the speed of the entire world, hits you in slow motion; and no matter how much you try to move faster than the bullet this is not the Matrix and you are not Keanu Reeves.
It starts like a bit of an irritation, like someone trying to tickle you only they don’t know how and they just keep poking you until their finger pushes in so far that it hurts. A lot.
Then you’re falling and you don’t know where you started from, how long you've been falling, or even why you are doing so. But you don’t fall long. The ground jumps up to meet you half way and before you know it you’re laying on your back feeling the world around you being sucked away by some invisible vacuum.
You lay there, not knowing what to do. It’s a shock. What are you supposed to do once you’ve been shot?
I’m on the ground pondering this very question when the world slams into me at full speed and I remember what’s going on very quickly. There’s screams, and people running away, not wanting to be connected to the scene by the authorities, or trying to deny that they were connected to themselves. Blood isn’t easy to wash off of your hands. Especially when it’s innocent blood.
A few of them are still standing around, staring in shock. I wonder if Warren is okay. I hope so. I’m not actually that mad at him. Then I feel something cold and cylindrical in my mouth. Oh my God.
I twist and push the guy away with all I have, but it’s not enough. My right arm is entirely numb. I hear him say ‘Suck on this, you fucking fag!’
>Tauck<
It echoes through my ears. I can’t hear anything else. I register that I’m not dead, but I doubt that that will last long. I’m lying on my stomach. I want to vomit, but I don’t think I’m strong enough. I think of Remy and the chemo treatments, and I try to push myself to my knees. If Remy can be strong, so can I.
I can see Warren now. He’s in slow motion, just like everything else. I see him turn and push over one of the ones attacking him. He’s not turning fast enough.
>Scheatauck<
Everything is black. I can’t feel my legs. I hear someone, but I can’t respond. It’s hot. Too hot. There’s something soft beside me. It tickles my arm, and I can feel myself being pulled upwards. I hear a voice, muffled though it is. It’s soothing, saying something… My name I think… I can’t make it out over the ringing. Then I’m pressed tight against his body, and the air is all around.
It should feel good, the air, but it doesn’t. It’s too hot. Everything is hot. That’s odd to me since it’s winter. My blood feels like it’s about to start boiling, and I try to activate my powers. I don’t think it works. It’s still too hot.
It’s getting darker. I didn’t know that was possible. The voice is getting farther away. I try to scream out to it, to call it back.
I’m afraid of being alone. Afraid of dying alone. I imagine Remy laying in my arms. He calms me and tells me everything will be all right. I can sleep now that he’s here.
I start to stir and a find woman’s hand is on my forehead. I try to push it away, but I can’t lift my arm. The hand is too hot and I’m thankful when it removes itself.
I hear Jean’s voice in my mind. She tells me that Hank is on his way. Everything will be fine once he gets here. I don’t respond. I don’t know what’s happening. My body won’t respond to me. It’s too blasted hot, and my powers won’t listen to me. I try to remember what happened to make my body betray me, but I’m too tired.
I fall into sleep and I dream dreams of memory. I’m walking through the park with Warren. Remy made me promise that I would talk to him. I don’t really want to be there, but I remember Remy’s words reminding me that Warren’s my friend, and that he deserves a second chance.
I also remember Remy making some sort of comment about how if I can forgive him for what HE’s done, the least I can do is to talk to Warren. I heaved a great sigh at that. Remy always WAS good at manipulating me. I agreed to talk to Warren and he smiled smugly at me.
His lips were full and his eyes shining, yet smoldering at the same time. The look was almost impish and a small piece of hair fell into his face as he leaned forward to kiss me. I recognised that particular look.
I smile now thinking about that. Warren gives me a questioning look but I don’t embellish. He doesn’t deserve to share our happiness after the way he reacted to us.
I sigh and allow my face to go serious. The faster I get this over with, the faster I can get back to Remy. I’m already late I think.
We’ve been walking for some time now. I’m not even sure I know where we are anymore. The snow is refreshing though. The air feels good in my lungs. I sigh, thinking of Remy and how I wish he could share that feeling with me.
I’ve been trying to work up the nerve to say what I want to for quite some time now, but I can’t seem to do it. No matter how bitter I feel at Warren, it’s been nice to spend the day with him. Joking around like we used to, laughing and carrying on. I miss his friendship. Damn Remy for being right about that.
Warren and I sit on a bench. He smiles at me like he did when we were kids and then nudges me with his elbow. I follow his gaze to where he’s staring. There’s 3 beautiful women having a snowball fight. I look away disinterestedly.
Warren notices that and then blushes. The thought of him actually going purple underneath the image inducer is amusing to me. He looks down at his feet and toes the snow. “Uh… Sorry… I guess I forgot…”
And this is where it begins. I look down at my own feet and mirror his motions. I don’t know why I’m being shy about this, but I am. ‘Why can’t you just accept what I am?’ I croak out.
He stands up. I can see this degrading quickly, and I wince. “It’s not that… ” He says without turning around.
I wait for him to continue. I don’t know what he means by that. If that’s the that that I think that is, and he’s saying that it’s not that, then what is the that that is bothering him? …What? I confuse myself sometimes.
He almost whispers, “I mean it’s not that you’re… Y’ know…”
“That I’m what? That I’m gay Warren? That I’m a homosexual? That I prefer the company-“
“Bobby!” He turns to look at me in shock, and to my surprise I think I can see not resentment but almost… approval? “I just… I just don’t know what you see in him…”
I blink. He goes on. “He’s a loser Bobby, you can do better! I don’t know how you could ever be with him! Look at what he’s done!”
Now I’m angry. “You’re not innocent,” I tell him quietly. People are beginning to notice our argument. The three girls have stopped and are now staring at us. I don’t care, and apparently, neither does Warren.
“Look at what happened to the Morlocks because of him! Look at what happened to me!” I can hear his wings swish as he shifts them, an odd sound when I can’t see them.
“You are not innocent yourself, Warren Worthington the Third.”
“At least I don’t go around seducing innocent young men! For Godsakes Bobby, he’s playing mind games with you! How could you ever care for someone like that?”
I smile crookedly at him. “How do you know it wasn’t the other way around?” I reply suggestively.
He blinks at that. He sees me as being this innocent little kid that he has to protect, and he’s so busy with that idea he’s not seeing who I am now, only who I was then. Quieter, “Bobby, what are you saying?”
I sigh. “I’m gay, Warren. And in case you haven’t noticed, Remy is a very attractive man. How do you know that I didn’t welcome all the attention he gave to me? How do you know I didn’t want it?”
“He’s an arrogant, selfish prick! He doesn’t care a lick for you and he’s going to end up getting you hurt. He’s only out for one thing and-“
All the while I listen and I shake my head. “And.” I frown and sigh and shake my head again. He doesn’t know the man I do. He doesn’t see what I see. He’s not privileged enough. Partly my fault, partly him just not wanting to see. “And, I love him.”
“Bobby.” He sounds exasperated. “You’re just a kid. Someday you’ll find someone. A nice girl… “
I smile. It’s a crazy smile, one that you make when you don’t want to cry. I can feel the tears in my eyes. I don’t really hear him anymore. “I love Remy,” I tell him. I have the same carriage as before, but the thoughts of Remy make me smile. A real smile this time. “He’s the most wonderful person I could have ever imagined, he cares for more than any girl I ever dated has, he’s great in the sack.” I can’t believe I said that without blushing. “And there’s nothing you or anyone else can say to change that!”
I jump up on the bench and yell it at the top of my lungs: “I love Remy LeBeau! I will ALWAYS love Remy LeBeau!” I jump down and go into Warren’s face. “And you’re not HALF the friend he is if you can’t understand that. If you can’t see that I am a human being with human emotions and I can make up my own fucking human mind. You’re not half the man he is.” I didn’t realise how angry I was getting until I heard myself speak.
He pushes me back and tells me that I’m way out of line. I don’t care. I put up my fists and get ready for a fight. Then something hits me on the back of my head and I fall to my knees. There’s blood on my hand when I bring it down to look at it. I must be bleeding.
Warren jumps to my side to protect me. I start to tell him that it’s nothing and not to worry about it, then I hear their words; their yells of Fag and Mutie, and I am far more angry than I believe I have ever been. Then they lunge at us.
Hate. It’s just another kinda cancer.
I jump up ready to fight. Warren waits to see how even footed I am. Damn him for caring about me. I want to be angry at him. I need to be angry at him. I need someone to blame for Remy’s pain. I need his hatred to be at my being gay, not at my loving Remy. Loving Remy is about the only good thing that’s ever happened to me, and it destroys me that on of my bestfriends can’t be happy for my being happy. It makes it worse when he’s apparently rationalised the situation.
I’m striking out at these teenagers in anger. I don’t even bother to use my powers; I just need to punch something. I lash out blindly. There’s enough of them that I hit every time. I recognise one of the girls from before and she claws at my face with her fingernails. I punch her in the stomach and she doubles over.
There’s a lot of them. I don’t know how I didn’t notice them all gathering around us before. It looks like a class trip or something. I’m doing okay, but soon enough this is going to turn into a news event about how ‘Mutants terrorists attacked a helpless group of normal teenagers on a class trip’ and we can’t afford to have that happen, now can we.
I spare a glance over to Warren. He’s too preoccupied at the moment to even see me. One of them has a hockey stick and he smacks Warren in the back of the head. Warren turns and comes across his face with the backside of his hand. He’s trying to show them the mercy I wasn’t about to.
…That was when the gun went off…
I wake up, but I can’t see. I gasp for air but get none. My mind spins in confusion and I try to sit up. I remember that I was shot. I fight weakly at the arms that grab me. I don’t know what’s happening.
Where’s Warren? Did I imagine him carrying me up into the sky, away from harm? Is he all right? Was it his wings that lifted me, his arms that held me? Or some other angel’s?
What happened to Jean? She was here before wasn’t she? Didn’t I feel her hand on my forehead, her voice in my mind? Did I dream her?
Who’s hands are these grabbing me? Is it a friend? Is it Hank? Is that fuzzy feeling his fur? Why is he holding me down? It hurts!
Dear God, where is Remy? Someone tell me he was real! Tell me WE were real!
Someone let me breathe!
Someone help me live!
There’s a prick in my arm and I go weak. It’s getting dark again! God, please don’t let the darkness take me again! I’m alone… I’m afraid… God PLEASE!
I awaken again, and I’m careful this time. I remember what happened last time and I take my breath more slowly. This time it comes to me. It’s still warm, but it’s more bearable. “H… Han…” I can’t speak very well. My voice is barely audible even too myself.
I hear the buzz of an intercom again. “Hank. He’s awake.” Logan. He puts his hand on my arm; the one I can feel. “Everything’s gonna be okay kid. Hank’s on his way.”
I swallow and try to speak again. I need to know how Warren is. I need to know where Remy is. My mouth is dry, and I wonder how long I’ve been unconscious. Logan removes the mask on my face and brings a cup to my lips, as if following my thoughts.
I can smell Remy’s shampoo when he moves the mask. I drink. My mouth is numb and it is hard, but I manage with Logan’s help. “Remy?” I ask.
“Asleep in his room.”
“…can smell…”
“You’re in the infirmary. Place stinks of him.”
I nod... I think. I try to ask about Warren, but I start coughing, and Logan puts the mask back on my face. I close my eyes and wait for Hank to get here. I feel numb all over and I wonder if this is what the Professor feels like.
Hank comes in and checks a few machines. “Thank you Logan.” He states.
Logan grunts something back as he leaves, but I don’t care enough to try to make it out. Hank sits next to me in the chair that Logan had been in.
I study him. He looks like death walking. He's in the lab coat with the red paint on it. I remember hitting him a few times with the paint balls before running off and hiding in Jean's room a while back. It was the only way I could get him to get out of the lab. I realise by the look of his fur that he was probably trying to sleep and feel bad for bringing him back here now. There’s something else in his eyes. “Hank?”
He takes off his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. He looks like he’s trying not to cry. I reach out to him as best I can to try to comfort him. I hope it’s not Warren. Oh please God let Warren be all right.
“Hank?” I ask, a little more concerned.
"Bobby..." He closes his eyes and I think I see tears forming at the corners.
It's almost panic time... Why won't he spit it out? "Warren?"
Hank blinks. "Warren is fine. He's asleep in his room. Over tired."
Hank still looks tense. "Remy isn't...?"
"He's fine Bobby... They're all... fine..."
I wait expectantly. Something is very bad when Henry McCoy is at a loss for words.
He swallows and begins. And that’s when he tells me everything. That’s when I find out the consequences of the actions taken by one disturbed individual. The impact that they will have on my life is overwhelming.
I blink at him disbelieving. I let the cold come over me. I wouldn’t have been able to stop it if I tried. I think about the moment that the last bullet struck. I think about the bitter numb anger and pain and about how if I had used my powers I wouldn’t be in this mess.
I blame Remy for making me talk to Warren. I blame Hank for not checking up on me to see why I was late. I blame Warren for not saving me from the crazy man who in a total of thirteen seconds had stolen my entire life. I blame Cyclops for teaching me what we should do in these sort of situations; that we should not use our powers when we didn’t have to, or that we should not fight our enemies with brutal force, even though they would do the same to us. I blame the Professor for making me believe in a stupid dream.
There will never be tolerance.
I hear Hank ask “Are you going to be all right?” He speaks so low that I can tell even he was uncertain of his words. His words make no sense. What kind of question is that anyway?
But still, I find myself nodding. I want to be strong, but the tears fall freely down my face. Hank holds my hand in his. He bends forward and touches my knuckles to his forehead. He's crying too.
“Please don’t tell Remy…” I plead with him. “He shouldn’t have to know right now, not with him being so weak. I’ll tell him myself, when I think he’s ready.”
“Bobby… I can’t just lie to him…”
“Please Hank…”
He frowns, considering and puts down his head with his eyes closed. He’ll do the right thing in the end. We stay like that until I fall asleep.
When I wake up again Jean is sitting next to me. She smiles at me warmly. I'm glad Jean's here. I don't know if I could face anyone else right now. Jean's always been like a sister to me, and I know that she knows exactly what's going on. Who could ever hide anything from the amazing Marvel Girl...?
* You haven't called me that in a very long time... *
Remy would find her words an intrusion, but I'm happy for them. * Sometimes my memory is funny like that... *
* How do you feel? * She moves a piece of hair gently from my eyes.
* Numb, tingly and in pain all over... even in my legs... Guess I'm pretty high, hunh? *
She laughs outloud. * Yes... *
I would smile and think of something smartassd I could say if I had it in me. Instead what comes out is, * Jean I feel like I'm dying... *
She frowns and cradles the uninjured side of my face in her hand.
* How's Remy? Did the chemo go well? *
* He's been asleep for sometime now. I'm sure he will be down to see you as soon as he wakes up. *
“I don’t want to go to sleep again. I want to see him.” My voice sounds scratchy and foreign to my own ears.
“Bobby, you need your rest, and he needs his. You can see Remy tomorrow.”
“I just have to see him again. I don’t want to go back to sleep until I’ve held him in my arms…”
She sighs and looks away. She can sense my fear and uncertainty. She turns her head and looks at the back wall as if ashamed of something. She’s afraid and confused. I can see it in her eyes. I can feel her pity and loss. It’s more than I wanted to see.
“Water?” I ask to break the tension.
She looks back down at me and smiles and nods. She gets up silently and walks towards the back of the lab. I close my eyes. Not going back to sleep, just resting my eyelids.
There is a sound of a door opening, but it’s so distant that I’m not even sure that I heard it. The room is silent and I wonder where Jean went. My body feels like it’s falling and a rush of cold blood flows through me. My heart tightens in my chest and I see stars in my eyelids. I can see darkness closing in on me as if it were a living creeping thing.
I am dying now and I know it. I feel more alone than I ever have. Fear clenches at my heart and it struggles to beat at a normal rate. With a start my eyes fly open and I see Remy sitting next to me.
He bites his lip and tries not to cry. He looks like he’s in pain, but God help me my heart doesn’t care. All I want is to hold him close. All I want to do is lay in bed holding him in my arms. I want to hold him like that and never let go. I want him to be my forever.
I reach up to him and cup is beautiful face in my hand. I tell him not to worry and I tell him to be strong. He has better things to worry about then me. His tears keep coming. Silent and sweet they flow down his face like that river in Africa.
He cries for me. I want to push these tears away and make him not be sad, but the fact that he cries for me makes my heart feel strong.
I want him beside me. I want him to hold me like I‘ve never been held.
I move the sheets aside in a silent invitation. He waists no time before he joins me under the covers. I hold him close. I don’t ever want to be alone. I’m not afraid of the act of dying anymore, I’m afraid of the experience in being dead.
I clutch him to my body as if he is the only hold on life that I have left. I tell him I love him and lay my forehead to his. He returns the verbal gesture of love and holds me tighter.
I’m wondering how much Hank told him about what was happening to me. I joke with him about not being able to walk again to see what he does. He cracks a large smile and laughs from his stomach but I can see the sadness in his eyes.
I study his face and come to the conclusion that Hank must have told him I was paralyzed, but nothing more. I don’t know what else to do. The darkness comes over me again and I can see the forced amusement in his face as he laughs through the tears.
I swallow and wait for him to still. We both know I am dying. I ask him to promise me that he won’t leave me. I’m afraid to leave on my own. As long as I know that he’s still holding me… As long as I know he still loves me I think I can go through this bravely.
He seems shocked and starts to respond but my mind doesn’t stop turning and my index finger finds his lips. I can’t leave him without knowing that he’ll be safe.
“Promise me you won’t let yourself die.” My mind is whipping in on itself and I start fearing the darkness again. He swallows and I clutch to him, afraid of losing him- afraid of losing everything.
I start to ramble and hope he understands how much he means to me. I want him to know how bad it would be if he died. I try to tell him how afraid I was to loose him before, hoping he’ll figure out how afraid I am to have to deal with losing him now. But even though I am afraid of being alone, the thought of him dying is ten times worse and I can’t rest without knowing that he will keep going.
I realise now that I am crying and that he is crying. In the mixed sounds of our tears I hear his French tinted voice lull me into a false sense of security. In the confusion of my mind I hear him promise me to keep trying. The relief mixes with the dread and I find myself to tired to stay awake.
I blink and see a light brighter than any other. It is suddenly overtaken by a darkness that has a life of it’s own speeding towards me with the fluidity of quicksilver. I can still feel Remy’s body pressed to mine, breathing unsteadily through the discomfort his disease has put him in.
He is at a distance and as I concentrate on him he is pulled away. I try to reach out and I realise that I can’t move. I try to scream but I have no voice.
The darkness comes down on me like a crushing Tsunami and swallows me whole. Through the black, drowning silence there is the sound of an alarm screaming in such a pitch that my teeth hurt. It mingles with the yelling and crying of someone I can’t see; frantic for something I don’t know.
My mind vomits out my life before my unseeing eyes. My heart shatters, tearing my chest asunder and spilling my soul to the stars. The massive aching of my body crescendos into the greatest symphony I’ve ever heard; stealing my screams from the night and ending with an explosion of thunder and lightening brilliant enough to threaten the Gods.
Then there is nothing.
End?
Part Three