Really, I AM Dying! (pt. 7)

Back at the Brotherhood house . . .  something went thump.

"What was that?"

Whatever it was, it sounded big and heavy, but not breakable.
It turned out to be Fred. He'd been trying to get something from the refrigerator and had tripped over someone lying in the middle of the floor.

"Uhhhhhhhhhh." Fred groaned.

"Get off me! Get OFF me!" screamed a clearly distressed Lance.

"I thought you were in bed!"
"Yeah, I was. But I had to . . . uh . . . you know."

"Uhhhhhh," said Fred. "Did you?"
"What?"
"Uh . . . what you said."

"Yeah.I was on my way back to bed when--"

"What's going on?" Ororo demanded.

All Fred could manage was a muttered "uuuuuuugggh".

"I'm okay," Lance said.
Ororo gave him a pointed look. "Aren't you supposed to be in bed?"
"Yeah, I was, but I got up to . . . you know."
"No," she said. "I don't."

He nodded in the direction of the bathroom.

"Which end?" she asked.
"Uh . . . both, actually."
She looked him over. "Yes, I think you're getting worse. You'd better go back to bed right away."
"Aw, can't I just sleep here? Summers snores like a rabid warthog."

Ororo shook her head and told the others, "Help me get Fred up."

It took four people to get him upright, in the end. And even then Fred threatened to go over again.

Something loud was going on upstairs now . . . prompting Storm to rush upstairs to check it out.

"You can let go of me now," Fred said.

"I don't think so." Toad retorted.

"Why? I'm okay. Unless I caught something from you."

"WHAT?!!" He backed away slowly . . . then ran up the stairs as if they were on fire.

Upstairs, Brenda was trying to read again. She wasn't having much luck, though . . . just couldn't get the voices right.

"Oh, bugger," she sighed in disappointment.

"Allow me." Todd took the book from her and began reading. He was very good at voices.

Brenda listened with delight as Todd picked up the story where she'd left off. He was so good with accents, it was scary.

When he was finished, he tossed the book aside and lay back down again.
He'd never been this close to Brenda before. Well . . . not like this, anyway. If he pushed his bed up next to hers, it would be like they were sleeping together in one big bed.
The thought made him feel all shivery inside--or maybe that was the virus.

He looked at her face . . .

The spots were getting worse. They were expanding into huge red blobs.

"Todd?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"Why are you giving me that odd look?"

He didn't know whether he should tell her or not. Finally, though, he said, "Well, Brenda . . ."

Then there was this big crash from the room next door, and raised voices.

"What was that?"

Then footsteps coming up the stairs . . .

Todd groaned, "Not again."

Lance and Scott were in the middle of the room . . .

"What is it with you two?" Toad grumbled.

The TV/VCR combo had been shoved onto the floor, and was probably broken. An avalanche of tapes had followed.
This was no longer just a disagreement. These guys were getting physical.

"Don't you two ever stop?"Brenda sighed.

They tried to separate the two combatants, but it wasn't an easy task.

"Lemme go!" Lance snapped. "I'll beat him to a pulp!"

"You started it!" Scott shouted at him.

"Both of you shut up!" Toad snapped.

But there was no shutting them up.
"This is all your fault!" said Scott.
"My fault? Nobody asked you to come rescue us! You deserve everything you get!"

So Storm and Toad physically separated them and put them in different rooms. This meant that Lance was now rooming with Evan and Scott was sharing with Pietro, but hopefully it would keep the argument level down to just below house-rocking.

Toad went back to Brenda . . .

"It's okay," he said. "We stopped them killing each other."

"Thank goodness." Brenda sighed.

"Now where were we?"
Brenda never got a chance to answer, as Toad suddenly dropped to his knees.

"Todd? What's wrong?"

"C-can't breathe . . .choke . . ."

She wanted to go get help, but she couldn't leave him. So she mentally contacted Jean . . .

We need help! Something's wrong with Todd--
Help is coming. Wanda and . . . your grandmum.
Gran? Here? But there's no way she could have known!

It's a long story . . .

How long ago did they leave?
They should be almost there by now.

Do they know that I have the virus?

I think they know that everyone does.

Poor Gran . . .

Don't worry, they're protected.

How?

Then she heard the sound of a car pulling up.

Sorry, I have to go . . .

Good luck.
There was the sound of a door opening and closing.

Storm went out to meet Wanda and Mrs. Ellis. "What's going on?"

"I'm worried about Brenda." Mrs. Ellis said.

"You don't need to be concerned. I have everything under control . . ."
Something in the house exploded.

Everyone ducked.

"What was that?" Wanda asked.

"I don't know, but I don't like the sound of it." Before anyone could stop her, Mrs. Ellis bolted into the house . . . and was immediately met by the sight of Fred, Pietro, and Lance thrashing about on the kitchen floor, fighting with each other over some stupid thing (which wasn't all that unusual for them).

She didn't like the looks of them. Big red blobs all over . . . looked dangerous, that.

"Uh . . . hi?"

"All of you, back to bed, right now," she ordered. "You're ill."

Lance started to say something, but she wasn't having any of it.
"Go on now!"

The three of them immediately marched upstairs . . . and Mrs. Ellis followed. She wanted to see where they were keeping Brenda.

Brenda saw her coming up the stairs. "Hello, Gran."

"Thank heavens you're all right." Mrs.Ellis said . . . then she noticed the spots. "Oh, not you too!"
"Practically everybody," Brenda said. "Come and have a look at Todd, would you? I think he's in a bad way . . ."

And indeed he was . . . He was lying on his half of the pushed-together bed, gasping for air.

Mrs. Ellis immediately rushed to his side.

"Get me some hot water!"

"Right away, Gran."

Mrs. Ellis looked him over carefully.

"Hi, Mrs. Ellis," Toad managed to croak.

"You don't look much like your mother," she said.

He coughed violently . . .

"You sound a bit like your grandfather, though," she said with a bit of a smile. "Not to worry, I have everything in hand."

"You knew my grandpa?"

"Oh, everyone knew old Alf. Especially down at the pub. He told a lot of interesting stories . . . or so I've heard, anyway."

"That sounds like Grandpa all right."

"I didn't know you knew him. You must have been quite young when he died."
"I think it was right before my mom did."

Mrs. Ellis shook her head sympathetically. "Poor dear." She then began to examine him. The poor child was burning with fever . . . and she didn't like the sound of his breathing either.

Brenda came back with the kettle, and filled a bowl with hot water.

"Here we are, dear," Mrs. Ellis said to Todd.

Todd looked at the bowl and asked, "What's this for?"

"You're supposed to breathe the steam. It helps with the cough."

"You sure this'll work?" Toad asked skeptically.

"Always has done before."

So Toad took a deep breath... and let it out again in a series of hacking coughs.
"I don't think it's working," he said, when he had caught his breath.

"Try again," Mrs. Ellis urged him.

I'm dying, Todd thought. I have to be. No one can feel this bad and live.

"Now, Todd," he heard Brenda saying, "just relax . . ."

Relax? How am I supposed to--
But he found it easier as he breathed in the warm steam. Little by little the spasms that had caused his lungs to seize up were releasing him . . . and his head seemed to be clearing.

"Wow," he said, when he could finally speak. "That really does work!"

"Gran's very smart about these things," Brenda said.

"What about the others?" Todd asked.
As if on cue, there was a shout from down the hall, and something wrapped in a blue comforter streaked by them.

"That's gotta be Pietro."

Wanda came running after him, calling, "Boo! Come back here! It doesn't taste that bad!"

"Yes it does!"

Halfway down the stairs, the comforter slipped to the floor, but in his panic Pietro didn't notice. Nor was he aware that Mrs. Ellis had picked it up and was following him.

"Pietro Maximoff, I presume?"

"Yeah, who are you?"
She smiled. "I'm the person who's got your duvet."
Pietro looked down and realized he wasn't wearing anything. He blushed. "Whoops."
"Now tell me," she said, once he'd got it back on, "what is going on."
"Huh?"
"Why were you running around like a crazy person just now?"
"Oh, that."

He cleared his throat and said, "Wanda's trying to kill me!"

"What?"

"She wants to poison me!"
"Oh?"

"I do not!"

"You would be Wanda, I take it?" Mrs. Ellis asked.

"Yep."

"And why do you want to kill him?"

"I do NOT want to kill him! I'm just trying to get him to take his medicine," Wanda insisted.

"I don't want it!" Pietro sulked.

Wanda shook her head. "My brother can be so stubborn sometimes, Mrs. Ellis . . ."

The older woman smiled. "Really? Well, I know how to deal with stubborn ones!"

Giving Pietro her sternest no-nonsense look, Mrs. Ellis said firmly, "I suggest you take the medicine."
"But I don't like the taste!"
"It's medicine! It's supposed to taste bad! That's to stop you guzzling it down like Coca-Cola." She folded her arms and stared at him. She could wait him out.

Pietro tried to stare her down, but after a few minutes he realized he couldn't outlast her, so he gave up.
"Okay, but can I have some ice cream to wash out the taste afterwards?"
"If we have any."

He shut his eyes and took the medicine . . .

It was worse that he had expected. "You're gonna KILL me!"

"I don't have time for this," Mrs. Ellis said. She turned to Wanda. "I leave him in your hands."

Wanda nodded and went to see if there was any ice cream.

The next bedroom was a disaster area.

"Good grief," she said. "What animal lives here?"

"Blo . . . uh, I mean Fred."

"Which one is he?"

"The big kid with the shaved head."

"Where is he now?"

"Uh, that's me," said Fred, waving to her from the next room.

"Ah. You're the one who isn't ill." She moved to confront him. "Have you seen the state of this room?"
"Yeah, I need my stuff out where I can get to it."
"Then maybe you need less stuff."

Fred winced.

"Let me finish my rounds," she suggested, "and then I'll come help you tidy up."
"Uh . . . okay."

Back at the Institute, Xavier waited for word on his students. He was getting worried. Someone should have called by now . . .

As if reading his mind, the phone started ringing at that moment...

"Hello?"
"Professor?"
"Yes. Who is this?"

"It's Brenda."

"Glad to see you're feeling better . . ."

"I'm afraid I'm going to be here a spell longer, Professor. Gran's got her hands full with this lot . . ."

"I can imagine."

Lance was refusing to take his medicine as well.

Every time Mrs. Ellis or Storm tried to give it to him, the floor started shaking.
Finally Mrs. Ellis could take it no more. "Now stop this! You're practically an adult--act your age!"

"That stuff smells like skunk!"

"So hold your nose and take it!"
"How about I just don't take it?

Storm and Mrs. Ellis both rolled their eyes...

"I'll leave this here," the older woman said. "I'll check when I come back if you've taken it. I suggest that you do. You don't look well at all."
"I'm okay," Lance said, not wanting to tell her about the funny feeling in his stomach. He was afraid he might throw up.

And sure enough, before she had gotten more than three feet away . . . Lance barfed all over her shoes.

"Sorry!" he said. "I'm sorry, I couldn't . . . couldn't help it . . ."
She stepped out of the shoes and went to him. "It's all right, dear. I know you couldn't." She laid a gentle hand on his forehead . . . and he opened up to take the medicine.

"That's more like it." She spooned it into his mouth, wiping away the dribbles with a damp washcloth. "I'll be right back, so don't go anywhere."
She drew Storm aside and said, "Has a doctor looked at these children?"

"There's one here right now."

"Good. I think they're getting worse. Either that or this is coming in waves. How are the rest of them?"

"They're starting to turn the corner."

"Well, that's a relief. We can concentrate on the ones that are getting worse."
"Who's getting worse?" asked Kitty.

"Dear, shouldn't you be in bed?" Mrs. Ellis asked.
"It's too hot upstairs. I can't sleep."
"Funny, it didn't seem that hot to me . . ."

Just then, Kitty fainted.

Mrs. Ellis looked at Storm. "You said that doctor was here?"
"Yes, he is."
"I think he has his work cut out for him."

(Next chapter has more Mystique! You didn't think she was just gonna go away, did you? Don't forget to review!)