Chapter 3:

Funeral

Song: Self Doubt by Immense

"Are you tired?"

Lyla slipped into the empty chair beside Uriel's hospital bed, her hands through her hair. For 15 years, she's been nothing more than tired. Not because He's been her friend for an extended time, but because life has weighed down on her shoulders, and she cannot catch a break.

To add to the weight, Uriel's heart slowed, as did his breath. He's struggling to stay alive for her sake. It's selfish of her to wish he didn't leave her but based on the question; he's tired of fighting.

"More tired than yah know," She said with her shoulders slumped.

"It's okay." He reassured.

She mumbled, "A-Ah can't lose yah. Ah can't."

He took her hand, smiling, "I know you don't wanna let go." His thumb caressed her smooth skin, "But you gotta."

She can't.

He…he's family. She can't lose her brother. The one who stuck by her through Mali's death, Graydon's death, Irene's death, the mansion blowing up, Mali's return, Skylar's death, he's been through it all with her, and now he's leaving. Her support system is going.

"I'm tired too." He finally said.

She's well aware.

His body is struggling to keep him alive. Is it the depression of losing them that's causing him to die? Growing them back wasn't an issue in the past, so why now? Unless the tiredness he's facing is causing him to give up, his body is silently complying.

"Ah'd wish yah wait."

He tried to laugh, but his lungs stopped him, and his lips grew dry, "No one has time to wait when they're dying."

"Fuck off," she snapped.

"Stop running away from Mali and Stahr."

"And who am Ah gonna talk to about them when yah dead, huh?"

His grip became loose, "You will figure…it…out."

One last inhale, "Ya…always…do…kid."

Lyla sat in silence as he took his last breath. She stayed for another few hours to process his death, still holding his hand. Hearing Rogue and the other comes from the club, Lyla spread the sheet over Uriel's face, said a quick prayer, and then headed to take care of her sister.

Time passed.

Dr. McCoy rushed into the room, trying to revive Uriel. He's been dead for quite some time; there's no revving a man who doesn't wish to go on and live anymore. The good doctor tried to ask questions, but Lyla didn't respond; she sat in her chair looking at the imprint of Uriel's body hidden under a white sheet.

He's right; she is tired. And yet, death isn't as sustainable for her as it was and is for Uriel and others.

She wants to rest, and yet she continues to fight.

Giving Dr. McCoy one last smile, she walked out of the room, took care of her drunk sister, and left to find Warren and let him know what is going on, even though he won't care.

Rogue woke from a rough night of drinking and partying. Her skull pounded in the aftermath of her decisions. Taking a quick and deep breath, she rose from the bed, but all turned upside, her legs struggling to keep her upright. Her head swam with uncertainty. She took another second to catch her bearing, her body equilibrium returning to normal. Glancing down at herself, she mumbles a curse. Naked isn't a good look for her right now; there's got to be a sweatshirt somewhere, right?

Bingo, she said to herself, her eyes locked on Lyla's Ole Miss sweatshirt lying on the ground near the old dresser. She went to pick it up when her genuine smile of Lyla caught her off guard.

A lone picture, the only picture Lyla has shown around the room, sat on her dresser of her and Uriel. Rogue couldn't help but smile along with the two Knuckleheads. Two peas and a pod were inseparable.

Rogue grabbed the sweatshirt and threw it on when footsteps came behind her.

"Wasn't expecting you to be in here." Stahr's rough voice said from behind Rogue.

"Got drunk last night and forgot where my room was." Rogue snorted, turning to face Stahr, who leaned against the room wall.

"Nothin' wrong with that." Stahr circled the room to sit on the edge of Lyla's California king-sized bed, "Your first outing in a long time. You get to overindulge."

As kind as the words were, Rogue felt guilty for having a great time last night while Lyla was here, mourning her best friend's death. She thought she's changed. Selfishness is no longer an issue she deals with, yet she feels as if she has t changed in the slightest.

"Ha, Ah was out here gettin' shit-faced while Lyla was mourning Uriel." Rogue wasn't sure if Stahr knew, but oh well, she'll learn eventually.

"You didn't know." Stahr started calmly, "Don't blame yourself for something that had nothing to do with you."

It sounded harsh, but it was excellent advice.

"Ah was headed down to get some coffee—"

Stahr shook her head, lifting herself, "Nah, thanks, but I have a prior engagement with Logan."

Rogue hummed and nodded, understanding. "Gotcha. Well, reign check then."

Stahr shrugged, "Reign check."

Rogue's head swam so much that she wasn't sure who walked out first, but she made it to her room for a shower. Gambit and Pyro should return tomorrow morning, but what is she to do alone? What is Rogue to do now that she's no longer fighting for the X-Men?

After the long shower, Rogue rested and went back to sleep. It should help remedy her pulsing headache and pull her together. Hopefully.

Lyla's leg bounced up and down rapidly as she 'patiently' waited for Warren's arrival. For two hours, thanks to the secretary, Lyla sat in Warren Worthington III's office thinking of a way to break the news if he cared.

Her eyes bounced around the room, seeing zero pictures of anyone but himself. Even the kid he shares with Paige Guthrie isn't shown around the room. Yes, reader, Lyla learned a few nights ago that Betsy Warren married Sam Guthrie's younger sister, and they have a son. Too bad Uriel died before he could meet his nephew.

"Wasn't expecting you of all people."

The distraction of his voice allowed her to focus on him. The pretty boy angel looks like he hasn't changed since she's been…indisposed.

His hair was still bright golden blonde; he had charming heavenly blue eyes and a killer charismatic smile—a pretty boy with the added flavor of his graciously pearly white wings.

"It's urgent."

Warren took a seat on the couch across from her, crossing his legs, "Please, tell me."

Lyla sputtered her words, "Uriel is dead."

Warren snorted, "I thought he died long ago because of a drug addiction…." He paused, tilting his head to the side, glancing at the ceiling, "Or was that Pyro."

Lyla bit down on her jaw, suppressing her other side.

Warren straightened up, "Oh, you're serious." His shoulders slumped some, "My apologies. How?"

"Uriel's ripped his wings out of his back."

At the mention of a gruesome way to removed wings, Warren swallowed and shifted in his seat, "Well, that's…I don't know what to say. Uriel and I were never close. Some of it is my fault for treating him like our father…but I do…did love him. Please let me know if you need anything when you put together the funeral."

Lyla blinked, "Me? Why me? He's your brother."

"I don't even know his favorite color—"

"Hunter green."

"—And you two were close. You'd know what he'd want. Of course, I'll attend, but you can put it all together."

Lyla pushed herself up from the couch, "Did Ah waste my time comin' here?"

Warren took a moment to look her over, "I don't think so. I appreciate you for telling me. Take care of yourself and let me know."

"Yeah, take care." She gave him a small wave And headed out. Even though he said it wasn't a waste of time, she felt otherwise.

It looks like she has plenty to plan.

The big questions are, who in the fuck does she invite?

SOUNDTRACK: Let you go by Unsecret

Uriel, way back, mentioned he didn't want his funeral held in a stuffy church. He failed to tell Lyla where he wanted to be free, but she imagined it was amongst nature and the sky. Fair enough for her and easy to work with. Therefore she and Emma took about a week to plan where to host his going away, which resulted in a deep and dark forest near a lake, mist flowing timidly around them, a reminder he was still by her side.

The X-Men, the Inner Circle, and a few faces she refuses to mention took time out of their day to come and support their fallen friend. Some stepped up, spoke of his loving and annoying nature, and then let Kurt talk since there wasn't a pastor who wasn't booked. Plus, she didn't have to pay her brother.

"Lastly," Kurt cleared his throat and shut his Bible, "Lyla, Uriel's closest friend, will come and say a few words."

Lyla stood from her aisle seat, taking a deep breath. She searched for the words, appropriate words to describe Uriel without being disrespectful.

Glancing over the congregation, she decided to sit on the stage, "Uriel…."She started with a playful smile, "A massive pain in my ass."

The group laughed in agreement.

She explained to Uriel how he's a complainer. Mainly about the petty things in life.

Her eyes landed on the White King, Donald Pierce (Who could do without the beard), and Emma Frost, "He complained, but he never stopped to think twice about protecting those he loved."

Lyla's eyes fell at the mention of those he loved as guilt struck her chest.

Skylar's face, Malakai's cousin, came to her mind.

His heart wasn't the same when he killed her, but, as she mentioned earlier, Uriel is an unyielding and loyal soldier. Skylar was not, and she was prosecuted as a traitor of the White Court.

Lyla, from a different court, said she'd handle the traitor to save his heart, but he refused. She should have pressed harder.

"Loyal."

There isn't another word in the world describing Uriel.

"Since day one, he's stood by my side. The day Ah lost my world," her eyes traveled over to Malakai, "he was there."

One final breath, she finished her speech, "Uriel Worthington is many things we all have seen and felt with different versions of him, but he's the best friend any of y'all and me coulda asked for."

She stood and turned to the fog-filled Lake, "Rest easy, my friend. Ah, wish Ah was there at the gates with yah."

The service ended around her, but she didn't dare move. Her hands shoved themselves into the depths of her pockets.

Her peace was disturbed when Selene's powerfully soft voice said, "You haven't cried once since he died, did you?"

"Ah no mo' tears ta cry." She said, letting her accent grow thick. A habit she quickly slipped into around her old queen.

"If you keep yourself from feeling, you will go down a dangerous path."

Lyla snorted, but Selene wasn't finished, "I recall I said the same when you lost Mali."

"If Ah recall, y'all took her away from me."

Selene shook her head in disappointment, "Child, it wasn't my hands or weapon that slit her throat or ripped Uriel's wings from his shoulders."

Lyla stood still, "What are yah talkin' about?"

Selene stepped in front of Lyla, blocking her view of the calming water, "No, no, "She quipped, "me first, do you have the vials? I would hate to use the words for you to comply?"

Lyla swallowed, fighting her body, but it had a mind of its own as her hand pulled out blood-filled vials and handed them over to the Black Queen.

Selene's eyes gleamed joyfully, "You have done so well. I'm sorry we have treated you poorly." Selene placed a cold kiss on Lyla's forehead, smiled wide, and then went back to the thrall of sorrow. While Lyla stood still, she forgot the conversation.