Disclaimer: you know the drill…they do, I don't. She's mine, not theirs. I'm just borrowing them for the time being…
This is the final chapter (everybody breathes a BIG SIGH OF RELIEF). Dialogue and viewpoint will mainly be from other character's perspective…I hope…
Once again LOTS of talking…
Read and review please…PLEASE!!!!
THE END OF THE matter, Pt. 5
Hank McCoy walked the
whisper-quiet halls of the hospital and looked around furtively for an isolated
place to sit. The main waiting area on the second floor was too noisy, there
were nearly a dozen people waiting in chairs to see the patient in room 221,
and they were all talking.
Finally, he found an
unoccupied nook far from the main area. It sat adjacent to a large window with
a wonderful view of the grounds. He looked outside, and could see Michelle
sitting outside on a bench with Kurt, who of course had his visual inducer on.
The Professor, Kurt, Bobby and Rogue had come by nearly an hour and a half hour
ago, and Michelle was taking some time to speak with all of them in turn. The
Professor was currently in room 221, speaking privately with Michelle's
grandmother. Bobby and Rogue were either down in the cafeteria or in another
waiting area, talking. With everyone occupied, Hank had decided to take his
laptop to a quiet place and write an entry in his journal. He opened the
slender computer, and looked down at the two children sitting outside. They
were talking, he could tell by the fact that their mouths were moving, as well
as the fact that they were both moving their hands. Maya and Kurt both had a
tendency to "talk with their hands". Michelle was sitting on the left, slightly
turned toward Kurt. She was sitting somewhat slumped over, and Hank saw Kurt
put a comforting hand on her back, gesturing eloquently with the other one.
Oh, what I wouldn't give to be a bird in the tree behind them…to know what they are saying, what she is thinking. Scratch that…what I wouldn't give to be a Telepath right now!
Jean and Scott would be
coming by later, before visiting hours were over. It was a Wednesday; the last
of this year, and Jean had a recruitment visit at Columbia University that she
couldn't get out of. Scott had gone with her to check out the campus. He had
delayed college for a year, and was now looking at attending either Columbia or
NYU next year, though he still didn't know what he wanted to major in. Hank
privately thought that he had delayed entry simply so that he and Jean would be
in the same college class together. He had said that it was because he needed
to 'find himself' and so that he could focus on being team leader without the
distraction of school, but Hank suspected that the redheaded Telepath had more
to do with it than that. They were very much an item right now…and were
somewhat of a 'dynamic duo', always doing things together. College, he
suspected, would be no exception…
He looked back outside at
the two teens on the bench. They were still talking. He knew that Kurt had
suggested that they go outside, that was the reason they were sitting outside
in the cold. He had thought it would help Michelle to get away from the room
for a short period of time. Kurt was good at things like that. He was not a
psychic, but he was sensitive enough to pick up physical and verbal cues as
quickly as any of the three psychics at the Institute. Hank surmised that this
was the reason why Kurt and Michelle were such close friends, the fact that he
was just as sensitive to people's feelings as she was, though he did not have
the ability to literally 'know' what they were feeling.
He would make an excellent therapist…or a priest…I wonder if he's thought of that...of course it would be rather difficult, having to wear the inducer day in and day out, always avoiding physical contact. He doesn't dare go outside without it, for fear of ridicule. God knows he got enough of that in Germany…
Hank shook his head, gave
the children one last look, and began writing in his laptop, the rhythmic click
of the keys breaking the silence of the halls.
JOURNAL ENTRY, DECEMBER
31st…
I am writing on this, the
last day of the year, about the prospect of Michelle's grandmother's death. It
seems somewhat ironic, and yet fitting, that she would die on the last day of
the calendar year, but perhaps I am making too much out of it. We can't pick
the day that we die unless we kill ourselves, right? And even then, how much
premeditation is really involved?
I went in to see her,
Saril that is…she was awake and lucid. The doctors lowered the amount of
painkillers in her system so that she would be alert. Michelle was worried,
being that she can ~feel~ physical pain due to her healing talent, but once she
spent time with her Grandmother, she relaxed a bit. It seems that the old woman
is not feeling or registering any sort of physical pain at all, which is
strange to me as a doctor. Then again, what do I know? There are stranger
things that have happened…
Michelle seems to have
accepted the inevitable…that her Grandmother is going to be leaving her. I
think it comes as a bit of a relief to her at this point, which she feels
guilty for. Rogue said that one of Michelle's worst fears was to not be able to
help someone that is dying…if that is true, then she is living out her worst
nightmare…something that is both chilling and sad to me.
I have come up with some
theories as to why her Grandmother does not wish to be saved, but I will not
share them here. I need time to collect my thoughts…think things through before
I commit them to electronic paper, so to speak…Kurt has come up with his own thoughts
on the matter, and I believe that he is trying to explain them to Michelle at
this moment in order to give her some clarity. I spoke with her this
morning…held her in my arms while she cried and poured her heart out. I can
tell you that this is one of the things that she does not fully understand...
If only she were a telepath, able to reach into the mind of her grandmother and
get her answers with minimal effort, but she is not. And I truly believe that
she would have a difficult time doing that, if she could read thoughts. She
believes that Empathy is an intrusive gift, so it stands to reason that
telepathy would be no different for her…
It won't be long…tonight
at the latest. She used 'Sight' to ~see~ her Grandmothers aura, and it
confirmed what she ~felt~…the old woman is fading away by the hour. I truly
regret that I did not meet her sooner. What a wealth of information she must
have! The history that this woman has seen is mind-boggling. She does not
harbor some of the prejudice that others of her kind have towards outsiders, or
"gadjo" as the Rom call us. Michelle thinks that it is due to the fact that she
has a half-gadjo granddaughter. I think it is because she is a wise and
open-minded woman, able to see beyond cultural restrictions, defying convention
by taking in her half-bred grandchild. One hopes that Michelle will turn out
the same way. I think, from watching her over the past nine months, that she
will be an exceptional young woman once she reaches adulthood, as will all of
Charles' students…exceptional, gifted…different.
He saved the file, and
stretched his fingers out, then looked down at the bench. Michelle and Kurt
were no longer there. He leaned forward a bit, and could see them walking down
the sidewalk, still talking and laughing about something.
Keep that up, m'lad…that's what she needs to do right now more than anything. She's held everything inside for so long…I should go see what the others are up to…
He
got up, closed his computer down, then started walking back towards the main
waiting area, the two children outside momentarily forgotten…
Outside: 30 minutes ago:
Kurt and Michelle (he
almost always shortened her name to Misha) sat together on the bench, talking.
They had been there for only a few minutes. Kurt seemed to think that being
outside, away from the hospital would be a much-needed break for his friend.
She had been going slightly loopy indoors, with so many people there, and he
and the Professor both agreed that being outdoors would be good for her. So
they had found this place, overlooking the street, and had decided to sit for a
while and talk…
"Kitty sends her love…she
said she wishes she could be here with you."
"You spoke to her? How is
she doing? Have her parents driven her crazy yet?"
Kurt laughed and shook the
hair out of his eyes, "Nein, she says
that it has actually been a fairly sane visit, and she is doing well. She is
plenty eager to get out from under the parental radar, though. They are a bit,
ummm, overprotective."
Michelle laughed as well,
"Yeah, she told me that they were always fearing for their "little kitten". I
think they'd be shocked to see what she's learned to do in what, a year?"
"Ja, she came in directly after me. And yes, they would
be plenty shocked at Kitty Pryde, Kung Fu Master. Now we need to have Logan
start working with you, get you all
toughened up…"
"I don't think so…you know
I detest violence. Fighting makes people hurt, which hurts me, which really sucks. I think the most he's going to teach me at
this point is how to defend myself if someone tries to jump me. I'm pretty much
a lost cause when it comes to anything else."
Kurt smiled and then
turned to her, "Misha…how are you doing, really? You sound better than you did
last night, but…"
"I'm holding up…you can't
really expect me to be happy about this. I mean, my grandmother is dying, and I'm a healer! It's taking all my
willpower to not race up to her room and ~fix~ her. I have been trying to
figure out what the hell has been stopping me…but I still don't know."
Kurt narrowed his eyes,
and thought for a moment, "I think, Misha, that it is not 'what in hell' but
rather 'what in heaven' that is stopping you…will you let me explain? This may
get pretty deep…you know how I get when I go off on a tangent…"
She nodded yes, and at her
ascent he continued, his thickly accented voice breaking the silence…
"I am a believer in faith.
I always have been since I was very small. There were times in my childhood
where I would hide in the churches and just listen to the preachers give their
sermons. I never dared to show myself, even to a man of God, because I was too
afraid that their faith would be false, that even they would not accept a child who looked like a blue
demon when they are supposed to accept all of God's children. Anyway, I
learned to read…my foster parents taught me German, English and, as you are
aware, their native tongue even though I was, technically, gadjo. I read the bible, read anything I could get my
hands on…after all, I couldn't really walk around in brought daylight, could I?
So…I read books and I listened to sermons in the churches, hidden in the
shadows. I had time to observe a belief among many people in religion that
there is a specific time to die, that sooner or later, God calls his children
home. It is my belief, Misha, that this
is why your Grandmother does not want you to intervene on her behalf. She is
not being stubborn, or causing you unnecessary pain out of some malicious
intent, instead it is simply a matter of her faith that has caused her to make
this decision. And I ask you this, do you think that she would willingly choose
death if she believed it to be a bad decision?"
Michelle sat silently for
a few moments, slouched over, her hands on her knees, and then she looked at
her friend and said, "She told me when she first got sick, when her heart
started to fail, that she did not want me to heal her. She said…that she did
not want me to "play God". I didn't understand…I got angry, said a bunch of
things I shouldn't have. It never occurred to me that it really was a religious issue with her…I guess I should go to
church more often, she's always on my case about it." She laughed bitterly, "I
haven't even been to confession in the better part of 6 months. She'd probably
get up out of bed and throttle me if she knew about that!"
Kurt laughed widely now.
If he'd had his visual inducer off anyone on the street would have been able to
see that he had elongated canines, not to mention a long forked tail. It always
struck Michelle as an irony, he looked like a demon-child, but he truly had the
soul of an angel. To protect himself from the cruelty of others, he wore the
inducer, which gave him the outward appearance of a "normal" teenager. He also
wore it to protect his friends, because he knew that they would become targets
as well simply because they associated with him. But with the machine on, his
secret was safe, and technically, so was he…He looked at her and said, "Well,
perhaps Misha, we should keep this secret among ourselves, eh? I would hate to
see you get throttled. She might do you some serious physical harm, being that
you are in no shape to fight back, don't you think?"
She laughed, too and
agreed. She as feeling better than she had in weeks, truth be told, and she
mentally kicked herself for waiting so long to see her friends. They had all been so supportive, even Bobby.
The first thing that Rogue had done was to very, very carefully give her a hug,
something she almost never did due to the harmful nature of her mutant
abilities. And the Professor had taken her aside and talked to her for a good
half hour. She hadn't had anymore breakdowns like she had with Hank, but she
was more willing to talk about things now that she'd gone over it once. Kurt
put a comforting hand on her back, and said quietly:
"Does it help you to know,
perhaps, the reason behind her decision? I know that it does not lessen the
pain, but…"
"But it helps", she added,
"I feel…a lot more clear-headed about this than I have in days. And Kurt…I'm
sorry for avoiding you, not returning your phone calls, not talking about it
when you were only trying to help. I haven't been acting like much of a friend
lately…I wouldn't blame you or any of the others if you hated me right now."
"No one blames or hates you, Misha…not me, not Kitty, not Bobby or
Rogue…no one. We all understand how hard it is for you to deal with your
grandmother's illness…some of us have had
relatives or friends die before. Those of us who haven't can certainly
empathize with you…we can imagine what it is like. And everyone is familiar
with how your particular 'talents' work, that you feel an almost compulsive
desire to heal people, that it is like a drug for you. We can all imagine how
difficult it would be for a psychic healer to not be able to help. Remember, Misha, we are all in this together, we
stick together, we help each other. You try to do it all, but even you cannot stand alone, not with this. Will you come to
us from now on, if you are in need?"
She nodded yes, and they
both stood up, shivering slightly from the cold. She looked at him, her friend
of nearly a year, keeper of her secrets, guardian of her soul, her "cosmic
brother" and she said:
"Thank you…you guys
probably saved my life today, you know?"
"Ja, well…someone's got to
look out for you. So…are we cool? No more hiding from me or anyone else?"
"Deal…although I've gotta
tell you, it's not going to be easy. Kind of like trying to teach an old dog
new tricks, know what I mean?"
Kurt laughed again and
took her arm, then began walking down the sidewalk.
"Perhaps, liebchen, we should look in the Barnes & Nobles to find
you a self-help book on the subject. You could share it with Logan even!"
"What would it be called, Self-Disclosure
for Dummies? He'd kick me all the way across the mansion, and he'd smile
while he was doing it!"
"You judge him too hard…he
is not that mean. But I agree with you,
he is not the 'psychobabble' type. Goes against his manly nature, I think…"
"Yeah, I think that's the
problem. Too many testosterone cocktails…" She looked at her watch. "We should
be getting back to the hospital. They're probably wondering where we are.
Besides, I'm freezing my butt off out here."
"Ja, and I am freezing my tail off. Literally."
Laughing, the two teens
made their way back to the hospital. Once they reached the inside, however, the
laughter stopped. It seemed sacrilegious almost to laugh in a place where
people were sick or dying, and they walked up the two flights of stairs in
silence. They came out on her grandmother's floor and walked to the main waiting
area. There were still nearly a dozen people there, including the Professor,
Rogue, Bobby and Hank, who took one look at them and said:
"Cold outside, kids? We
were just about ready to send a search party out to find you before you froze."
"Yeah" added Bobby with a
slight grin. "You guys could have put me
to shame! If you want, the cafeteria makes a pretty good cup of coffee, though
I would avoid the food at all costs."
"Will do, Frosty…actually
I could use a cup of coffee right now. How about you, Kurt?"
"Nein, thank you anyway.
If I drink coffee this late in the day, I will never be able to get to sleep,
besides I would like to visit with your grandmother if she is able to take
visitors still…"
"Okay…anyone else? No?
Well then, I'll be back in a few…"
"Hang on, girl…Ah'll go
with ya. Mah legs could do with some exercise. Ah'm getting' all fidgety just
sittin' here, an these science-y type guys are borin' me tah pieces with their
conversation on molecular structure an' the human gnome… "
"Human genome," corrected Hank.
"Yeah…whatevah'…I'll go
with ya', girl, if ya don't mind mah company"
Michelle visibly
brightened, and said, "Okay…you can keep me company while I get my caffeine
fix."
The two girls walked down
the hall to the stairs and disappeared from view. As soon as they were out of
earshot, Bobby said, "Man, Hank…I don't know what you said to her this morning,
but whatever it was worked miracles. She hasn't been this talkative in weeks.
She actually paid me a compliment today, and then she apologized for being so hard on me all the time. I think you
missed your calling. You should've been a shrink, not a doctor."
Hank shrugged the
compliment off, but they could tell he was pleased. "Actually, Bobby, I did
nothing scientific or psychological. I just listened to her, and supported her
when she needed to be, much like you have all done today."
Bobby thought for a moment
and said, "Was this sort of like an intervention? You know, like you'd do to
someone who was on drugs or suicidal?"
The Professor thought it
over, and said, "In many ways, it was. I wish that all of the students were
here to lend their support as well, but being that it is the holidays…"
"Kitty told me last night
that the first thing she was going to do once she got back to the school was
give Misha a big hug. I think that it is the only thing we can do, offer our support when she's feeling down." This
was from Kurt, who was standing behind Hank.
Hank spoke up now,
"Considering how the grief cycle works, we will have to be supportive. These next few weeks are going to
be especially difficult for her to adjust to. The one constant in Michelle's
life has been family, and now her family is being taken away from her…"
"We are her family, too,
in a way," said Kurt. "A big dysfunctional family, but still…" He looked at his
watch and said, "I had better go in to see Saril before visiting hours are up.
I wanted to talk to her, if she is able to talk."
"She is conscious and
lucid, Kurt, and I think she would welcome a visit from you…"
"Well, then…daylight's
wasting", and with a smile and a wave, he walked in to the open door to room
221.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He walked in, feeling both
sad and apprehensive at the same time. Saril was lying in her bed, oxygen mask
over her mouth. The heart monitor had been turned off at her request; he knew,
and the IV's had been taken out. Everyone knew that she was going to die, from
the doctors to the nurses to the people waiting in chairs, and the only thing
they could do at this point was observe her wishes. He walked over to the chair
by the bedside and sat down, his tail curling invisibly around the chair leg.
She turned her head, eyes focusing in the darkened room, lit only by a lamp on
the bedside table.
"Hello, Saril…it's me,
Kurt Wagner…Misha's friend from school."
She pulled the mask to the
side and spoke, her English heavily accented, her voice soft and weak.
"Ahh…I remember you…the
boy with the illusion around him. I would tell you that you do not need to hide
from me, but I fear that someone would pick a very bad time to walk through the
door. Some people…are more understanding than others…I'm sure you know that."
"Ja, I have come up against my fair share of grief from
those who 'did not understand' me. They are not among my most cherished
memories…"
"Mmmm…I have wondered how
God could be so cruel, to grant such a sweet boy such an unseemly form. You
are…undeserving of such cruelty."
"He tests us in mysterious
ways. He is testing Misha now even as we speak."
"If there is…one thing
that I regret…it is that my decision has caused her so…much…pain. I never meant
to hurt her, but I have. She does not understand…I love her so much, I would
never purposely hurt her."
"She knows, and she loves
you, too. And though she does not fully understand at this moment, she will
recover. She is very resilient, and she has a lot of people who love her, who
want to help her. Do not fear for her, frauline, she is in good hands. Just…conserve your strength…you will need it to
make your journey."
"Such a good boy…it does
my heart good to know…that she has friends like you and the other young man who
visited me earlier…"
"We all love her very
much, and we are all looking out for her. Well, I do not wish to tire you, so I
think I am going to leave now…is there anything you would like me to do for you
before I leave?"
"Yes, boy…would you pray
with me…for me?"
He smiled at her gently
and smoothed the hair back from her forehead, then got up and shut the door. He
sat back down, took the prayer book from the bedside table, and began:
"Our Father, who art in
heaven, hallowed be thy name…"
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"What do you suppose
they're doing in there?" asked Bobby as he saw Kurt shut the door.
"Praying," answered the
Professor.
"Oh…I guess I won't
interrupt. Maybe I'll go down to the cafeteria and look for Rogue and
Michelle…"
He walked off in the
direction that the girls had taken, and Hank looked at the Professor, one
eyebrow raised.
"Methinks that Robert is
not too fond of prayer…"
Charles Xavier laughed and
said, "Well, Hank, it's not for everyone…"
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"…Amen," Kurt whispered as
he looked at the old woman.
"…Amen," she whispered
back, closing her eyes and putting the mask back on.
Kurt placed the worn
prayer book back on the table, then leaned over the woman and kissed her in the
old manner, once on each cheek, then made the sign of the cross. He got up and
went to the door, opened it and walked out.
In
the bed, the old gypsy woman opened her eyes and watched the boy leave. Then
she touched her cheeks with trembling, palsied hands and whispered, "Bless you,
child…"
Kurt walked out of the
room as Jean, Scott, Rogue, Bobby, and Michelle walked up the hall. He smiled
at them, and gave a little wave.
"Hey you two," he called
to Scott and Jean. "How was Columbia?"
"Pretty nice", said Scott.
"I know I'm applying for next year. They
have a great political science division.
What did you think, Jean?"
"I liked it…the campus is
nice, the academic programs are wonderful and we'll be able to commute rather
than live on campus. I'm not sure what I want to major in, though."
"Hell, Ah don't know what
yah so worried about, Red, it ain't like yer flawed or anything. You'll be great at anything you do, as
always. "
"I am not perfect, Rogue. I've got plenty of flaws. You make
me out to be one of those perfect girls from an on-line fanfic."
"Jeannie Sue," quipped
Bobby.
"Mary Grey," said Kurt,
grinning.
Despite the fact that
Rogue had been with them for almost a year, she still had a lot of friction
with Jean. She didn't know what it was that bugged her about the stunning,
perfect redhead, whether it was the fact that Scott and Jean were such an
obscenely bland couple that it made her
want to puke, or the fact that Jean had gotten him in the first place. Point blank:
Ms. Psychic Marvel bugged her. Period. End of the matter…
"Well, either way…you'll
do great at whatevah ya try. Ah think we should drop the subject now, ya' know,
outta respect for Michelle, bein' that her Gramma's so sick an' all…"
Jean's eyebrows shot up, surprised that the Rogue had backed down from a potential fight. Then again, the Professor would call us all out for fighting in a hospital…and it would be disrespectful. Damn, I hate it when she's right!
Michelle wasn't even
listening to them. She was standing in the doorway to her Grandmother's room,
quietly lost in her own thoughts. She looked at her watch: 4 o'clock p.m. Is
it that late already? Her Gram was lying there,
still as death, but she wasn't dead yet…soon, though. Blinking back tears, she
turned back to the other students.
"Hey, you guys…I'm going
to go for a little walk while there's still some light, okay? I'll see you in a
little bit." And with that she walked down the hall to the elevator. The others
watched her go, slightly apprehensive. Bobby was the first to speak up…
"Um, guys, is this an "I
want to be alone" moment or an "I don't want to be alone, I want someone to
follow me" moment? I can never tell…"
Jean and the Professor
both looked at each other, then at the direction Michelle had taken and
~thought~…
"Follow
her," they said at the same time. Bobby sighed and said, "Well, I'll probably
undo all of your hard work, but I think it's my turn now. See ya in a bit
gang…" And with that, he grabbed his coat and followed the direction Michelle
had taken only 2 minutes earlier, secretly wondering what he was going to say
to her without looking like a total ass…
Michelle walked in the
cold December air, thankful that she had left her coat on. The temperature had
dropped a good 5 degrees since she and Kurt had been outside, and the wind had
picked up, which made it seem even colder. She walked over to the bench that
she and Kurt had sat on earlier, and tried to fight back tears.
Oh girl…you were doing so well. Why have a meltdown now?
She almost started crying
when she heard a familiar voice call out, "Girl, it is freezing out here, and I'm Iceman! You know it's gotta be
cold if I think it's cold!"
She turned and smiled,
"Bobby, what the heck do you think your doing? Coming to my rescue?"
He sat down on the bench beside her, "Yeah, well, someone's got
to…what's eating you?"
She sighed, "I don't
know…I've been doing pretty well since Hank talked to me earlier today, but I
was standing by her door looking in and…"
"And?"
"It hit me that she looks
dead already, even though I ~know~ she's not. And it suddenly hit me that I
haven't said goodbye…haven't really spent any time with her today. Things have
been so busy, and there have been so many people in and out of the room that I
kind of let it go…let other people deal with it. I'm being stupid, aren't I?"
Bobby ran a hand through
his short brown hair and said, "I don't think so. I mean you've had a lot to
deal with these past few days, you know? Now there are other people around to take
up the slack. It's got to be nice for your Grandmother to see other people, to
know that there are other people who care about her as much as you do. Hell,
Kurt actually went in and prayed with
her."
Michelle looked at him,
and said, "That was really nice of him. My Grandmother always did like Kurt. I
think it's the whole gypsy thing…"
"Kurt's a gypsy, too?"
"No…he was raised by a
Romany family, Bobby. You know that…you're one of his closest friends!"
"Yeah, but we don't talk
about stuff like that. Mostly we just hang out and think of stupid tricks to
pull on people. Or we talk about girls, cars, and sports…you know…guy things.
Hell, I didn't even know he was Catholic until today! Speaking of which…are you
Catholic, too?"
"Eastern Orthodox…well,
sort of. I don't really go to church as often as I should. I've kind of slipped
since I started going to the Institute."
He shivered from the cold
and tightened his coat around his body a bit. "I don't know…I've never been
much of a religious guy. Organized religion kind of creeps me out, you know? I
mean, how many cults got started because some religious zealot got a bit
whacked in the head? It's scary stuff if you think about it…"
She nodded and said, "The
thing I always hated was the fact that all of these people who act so pious and
pure of soul are really the biggest bigots in the world. They just use their
bibles as an excuse for their bigotry and prejudice. Then if they're caught at
it they 'pray for repentance' to excuse
their sin, and bam, they've got their ticket into heaven. It's like anybody can
be an asshole, but according to the Bible, if you pray hard enough you're
automatically saved. It's bullshit, Bobby, that's what it is…I think that's
part of the reason why I haven't been going to church. I don't know…maybe I 'm
wrong…maybe I'm just angry and need an excuse to vent
"Either way, you're right.
I have to wonder if the parishioners at Kurt's church would accept him if they
knew what he really looked like. Would they see the nice, friendly person
inside, or would they look the other way and just see the fuzzy blue demon on
the outside?"
"I know, I've wondered
about that, too. But he still goes every Sunday, despite the fact that his
inducer could short out, or someone could bump him. He's a lot more focused in
that area than I am…he actually has a good handle on the whole "faith" thing. I
guess I'm still trying to figure it all out…"
"Are you going to be okay?
I don't mean to be a jerk, but I'm freezing my ass off out here…and I'm
Iceman!"
She laughed and said,
"Okay, Mr. Freeze, we'll go in before you get a serious case of shrinkage. And
Bobby?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you…"
"Hey, any time, okay?"
"Okay…hey Bobby?"
"Yeah?"
"Can I have a hug?"
"Sure…I'll even promise
not to pinch your ass this time."
"Whoa…can I get that in
writing?"
They laughed, and Bobby
leaned in and wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her tightly while she did
the same. She buried her head in his jacket, inhaling the scent of leather, and
sighed. Bobby dropped a kiss on the top of her head, and said, "It's going to
be okay, you know? We're here for you when you need us. And I know I'm not as
good at talking and listening as Kurt or Hank or Jean, but I'll do my best if
you need me, 'kay?"
"Okay…thank you, Bobby.
Oh, and Bobby?"
"Yeah?"
"You promised not to pinch my ass, remember?"
"Oh yeah…sorry…old habits
die hard, you know?"
"You're excused…this time.
Let's go back in, okay?"
"Okay…" he gave her a
little squeeze and they began walking back to the building, his arm around her
shoulders, and her arm around his back.
"Hey Michelle?"
"Yeah Bobby?"
"Get your hand off my
ass…"
"Sorry Drake, paybacks are
a bitch…"
"I don't know what's
freakier: the fact that you're touching
my ass, or the fact that I'm complaining
about it…"
"Search me…one of the
great mysteries of life, I guess."
"Yep."
"Double yep…"
'Hey Bobby?'
"Yeah?"
"Oh…never
mind…"
Visiting hours were soon
over, and the team had to leave. Michelle was allowed to stay because she was
family, and everyone was saying goodbye. Everyone else, including the Rom, had
cleared out already…
"Call us, okay?" said Jean. "It doesn't matter what time
it is…someone will come and get you."
"I still don't feel too
great about leaving you here," said Scott. "I wish we could stay."
"Sorry Scooter, rules are
rules, and I'll be fine. And I promise I'll call you guys okay? Unless it's 4
o'clock in the morning, then I'll wait."
Scott frowned, "Okay…well,
I guess we'll be seein' you. And Shelly?"
"Yes, Scott?"
"I'm sorry." He leaned
forward and gave her a gentle hug. Jean joined in, too. Before Michelle knew
it, someone yelled, "group hug!" and everyone but the Professor and Rogue
joined in. After a short while, Michelle gently disengaged herself, and leaned
down at the Professor, giving him a hug and saying, "Thank you for your help.
It really means a lot to me…"
Rogue stepped up next,
tugging on her sleeves and putting up her collar to minimize the chance of
exposure. Then she timidly reached out and held her friend, stroking her hair
with a gloved hand. She whispered, "Call us, okay, girl? Don't 'cha be breakin'
yah promise, ya hear?"
"I won't. Promise."
All
of the students as well as their teacher waved goodbye and began walking down
the hall toward the elevator, talking among themselves. Michelle knew she could
just reach out with her mind and she would know what they were feeling, but she
didn't. She was too damn tired…
She walked into the room,
and automatically sat in the chair by the bedside table. Her Gram turned to
her…
"Misha?"
"Yes, Gram. I'm here with
you now."
"Everyone else is gone?"
"Yes, visiting hours are
over. Everybody has gone home…"
"It was a good day. Lots
of people to see me. I am tired now, though…and I am a bit cold."
"Let me get you a blanket.
I think there's an extra in the closet."
"Such a good girl. You'll
be okay after I am gone…I know…you will be fine."
Michelle found a blanket
in the closet, and brought it over to the bed. She spread it out, making sure
to cover her Grandmother's feet, and then sat back down. She reached out and
took one of her grandmother's gnarled hands in hers, gently holding it,
smoothing the flesh out. After awhile, she said:
"Gram, there's some things
I need to say before…you know…it's too late…I wanted to tell you that I'm
sorry."
"For?"
"For questioning your
wishes…for not understanding you. It's just that I love you so much…it's hard
to let you go…I'm sorry I got angry…I'm just…sorry."
"I know, Misha, I know…I
understand and…I am sorry, too. I caused you pain unimaginable, you should not
have had to live through this."
Michelle sniffled, the
tears she had held back earlier rising in her eyes, "Let it go, Gram…I'll be
okay…I just wanted you to know that I love you…I love you so much."
Saril closed her eyes and
breathed, "I know…I always knew, even when I was sleeping…Misha?"
"Hmmm?"
"Be a good girl, okay?"
"Okay. Promise."
"Okay…I love you, and I'll
see you again someday…"
"Not if I see you
first…get some rest, okay?"
"Okay…be a good girl,
Misha…I love you."
The old woman closed her
eyes and her breathing became rhythmic, though it was weak and thready.
Michelle continued to hold her hand, nearly falling into a meditative state.
She didn't now how much time had passed, but it was already full dark when she
came to full consciousness. She looked at the clock on the wall: 8 o'clock,
then at her Grandmother.
Breathe in…breathe out…how much longer?
It wouldn't be long…
Not long now, till the end…
8:15 p.m. One last breath…
Breathe in…breathe out…
I love you, Gram…
I love you, Misha…
~End~