-'Who Wants to Live Forever'-
Pairings: Scott/Jean, one-sided Kurtty but well, you'll see
A/N: God knows you can't write more unless you get reviews. Speaking of reviews,
Scrawler: as always, thanks for the ego boost.
TKD: Looking back and re-reading the chapter, I can understand where you're coming from. I was trying to throw Kurt back into his 'normal' routine and have him slowly start to deal with everything. He's not one to usually complain or come right out and tell people what he really feels. I wanted to hint at it and try to be subtle, but as Christine usually says, subtly isn't really my specialty. Sorry if I was a bit off, I think the dialogue between him and Beast will sort of clear it a little up. Also I wanted to speed up the plot because I felt that I was going a little slow. I thought I mentioned that it's about 2-3 weeks after his first death. Still no one is quite sure what the deal is, although Logan does subconsciously. Glad you like the interactions between Rogue and Kurt, I wanted to make sure that it fit. And thanks for the constructive criticism; you only help to make me better.
A/N 2: Roger McCain in this chapter is a very troubled teenager. He committed murder and was praised for killing a mutant his girlfriend. After the truth comes out that Kurt isn't dead, he is shunned for supposedly lying about killing him. So, I have Roger going back and forth between being glad that he didn't kill him, and being angry for not killing him. Also his 'hate for mutants' is more reserved for himself. Let me know if I pulled it off or not
A/N 3: Also the difference between the dialogue of Kurt and Rogue in the last chapter versus Kurt and Beast in this chapter is that last time, Kurt was trying to reassure Rogue that he wasn't going anywhere, that he missed her because of how far she was keeping herself. I think it's in his character to see the distress in others rather than himself. With McCoy, Beast is trying to get Kurt to deal with some of his issues, which Kurt, obviously doesn't want to talk about. I hope all that people can see that. I hope that all comes across.
A/N 4: If you like this story, do yourself, or more likely me, a favor and read and review some of my other stories. Now on to the story!
Disclaimers: I don't own anything relating to Marvel Comics or Highlander.
Dedicated to everyone that has ideas but doesn't think they're good enough
////////////////////////////////////////////
Roger sighed and nervously looked over his shoulder as he continued to walk down the street. He had gotten several new paranoid tendencies in the past few weeks.
Killing someone might do that to a man.
And yet there was no one after him. There was a blip on the eleven o clock news two weeks ago, but nothing since. There weren't a lot of people out there that wanted to hear about a freak dying to protect his mutie-loving girlfriend.
But still, their faces continued to haunt him. The young black girl's eyes staring openly into space as the blood dribbled out of her mouth. The blue demon's screams and fiery yellow eyes as they fought for the gun. After a while he convinced himself it wasn't real.
But still, every time he closed his eyes...
He shook his head to clear the demons, real or imagined, from his mind. He heard that the girl's parents moved away. He couldn't blame them. Who would want to stick around in the same place where you daughter died? Live in the same house where you ate dinner. Sit on the same couch where you watched TV.
He couldn't even stand to look at himself in the mirror anymore. His friends, his posse, were all hyped about it. Some of them went over to the city's FoH [2] chapter and signed them all up. A vice-admiral or whatever they hell they called themselves stopped by his house and told his mom and dad how lucky they were to have such a good, moral responsible son.
He even was in one of their newsletters, a picture of ol' Roger McCain [1] standing proud infront of the American flag with a FoH t-shirt on, arms crossed, chest puffed out, looking proud and fierce. He got questioned about it a lot. He didn't realize how many people really were against the mutants. It was funny, there were more people upset about him not being a radical anti-mutant activist than there were people upset that he killed two people.
Actually one person.
Apparently one of the FoH members saw the mutie freak with his other mutie friends at the mall two days ago. He guessed that the demon lived despite being shot.
Five times.
In the back.
From two yards away.
His friends accused him of lying. Of only killing the mutie-lover but being too scared to cap the freak himself. He was surprised by how offended he got. The guilt was killing him inside, but when confronted he yelled and screamed about how he killed the mutie.
He told them how easy it was to pull the trigger and how good it felt to see the unholy abomination fall to his knees. He told them how beautiful it was to see the blood pour out of his wounds and how right it felt to be doing god's work.
They didn't believe him. They called him a coward and a liar. He was a mutie-lover for not going all the way.
The FoH said that the mutie himself killed his girlfriend after kidnapping her and raping her against her will. They printed a retraction in their national newsletter. They changed her story from being a 'mutie-loving whore' to just a 'poor innocent girl being manipulated by those disgusting freaks of nature.' Roger went from 'a hero striving to defend humanity' to a 'lying little kid wanting attention.'
It burned him up inside thinking that the creature lived. The guilt that had been consuming his soul had stretched out and only fed his anger. He was angry at the freak for living, for making him a liar. He was angry at the girl for dying, for making him a killer. He hated his friends, for making him a traitor. He was angry at the FoH for making him a false hero. And he was angry at himself.
For wanting to kill another mutie to make him a hero again.
As he walked up to the counter, he took a deep breath and reminded himself that there was no going back. The bus station clerk looked down at him and nasally breathed out. "Can I help you son?"
Roger nodded and put his backpack on the floor next to him as he fished for his wallet. "Yeah, how much for a one-way to New York City?"
The attendant raised an eyebrow before punching up the order. "Fifty three- thirty. We got a greyhound leaving in two, two and a quarter hours." [3]
Roger found his wallet and put three twenty dollar bills on the counter. The clerk sighed uncomfortably before making the transaction. He turned back to Roger and handed him the ticket and change. "And six-seventy is your change. You can turn back in your ticket for a full refund if you change your mind, kid."
Like staying would do him any good. "Thanks."
Roger turned away quickly and sat down at one of the sparsely populated benches. There were about thirty or so people here, waiting for different busses to come and go. According to the FoH about one in forty people could have the X-gene. And since Bayville had become 'mutie central' for some odd reason, he bet that there were probably one or two right there with him in the bus terminal.
He rested his backpack against his legs and leaned back into the polished wood. He had about another two hours to kill and...
"Excuse me?"
Roger turned to see a fairly tall redheaded man dressed in gray business suit with a black trench coat. He was slightly startled and jumped a little.
The man smiled and held up his hands in a defensive manner. "I'm sorry if I startled you, but I was wondering..." He reached into his trench coat pocket and fumbled around, causing Roger to lean back a little more in fear. "Uh, listen, I..."
The man pulled out a newspaper article and handed it to the young teenager. "That's you isn't it?"
Roger looked down at the piece of paper. There was a small picture of an angry looking sixteen year old pouting infront of the FoH banner above a few tiny italicized lines of print. The banner of the article read "Sixteen year old Roger McCain, former FoH hero, lied about murder of teenage mutant."
Roger felt his face burn up as the anger coursed throughout his system. He looked up at the smiling man and growled. "Who the hell are you?"
The tall redhead grinned and offered his hand. "Hi, I'm Arthur Daniels with the Associated Press. I wanted to talk to you about..."
Roger groaned as he grabbed his backpack and stood up. The only thing worse than a mutie was a reporter. He offered two words of advice to the news hound before walking away. "Fuck off."
Daniels smirked and walked alongside him. "I was wondering if you would go over some details about what happened that night."
Roger quickened his pace and looked at his watch. "Listen buddy, I don't give a shit what you were wondering, I need to catch a bus."
The reporter grinned. "You bus doesn't leave for another two hours."
Roger slowed down and eyed the redheaded man carefully. "How the fuck do you know that?"
Daniels sighed and reached into his trench coat, pulling out six crisp fifty-dollar bills. "With the right amount of money, you can know anything. The teller thought you were a runaway, I showed him the picture and told him I wanted to bring you home."
Roger took a step back. "To hell with you buddy. I aint going home."
Daniels smiled and played with one of the fifty-dollar bills before extending his hand and showing them to the young man. "I didn't say you have to, all I want is to talk."
////////////////////////////////////
Henry McCoy sat in front of the blank computer screen looking mildly intrigued and mostly annoyed. He put his glasses on and looked back over at the student in the examination chair. "Okay then Mister Wagner, let us try again."
Kurt sighed and held out his left arm again. School was to start back up in two more weeks and all of the students needed to take a school mandated physical. And since the school nurse wasn't going to perform any physicals on the 'filthy mutants' the school board left it up to their families to provide proof of examination or be expelled. The students at the Xavier institute were lucky because McCoy was certified during his tenure as the Bayville High's school coach.
McCoy leaned over with yet another needle and tried to take a blood sample. Kurt hissed in pain as the long thin metal pierced his skin. McCoy smiled as the small test tube began filling with a thick red liquid. After a second the elder mutant pulled out the needle and placed a cotton ball on the inside of Kurt's arm. "Remember to place pressure..."
Kurt gave him a small grin. "Herr McCoy?"
The teacher looked over at his student. "Yes?"
The young mutant lifted up the cotton ball and looked down as tiny streaks of lightening quickly san across the small puncture, closing it up. "I don't zhink I need zhe cotton balls anymore."
The mutant known as 'Beast' stopped his glasses from falling off his nose and raised both of his eyebrows. "Yes, I believe so."
McCoy sighed and tried to think of a polite way to start the conversation that he had been dreading. "Are there any more...um...unexpected..."
Kurt stifled his grin as he watched his professor stumble for words.
"A...uh... any more...things that I should know about?"
"You mean like the weird lightening zhing?"
McCoy shrugged and nodded.
Kurt shook his head. "No, its still zhat and zhe weird feeling when I get around Herr Logan."
McCoy grinned. "I take it Logan has restarted your training regimen."
Kurt groaned. "Ja. If it wasn't for zhis..." his hand wavered around where he puncture wound had healed. "I suspect zhat you would be seeing a lot of me."
McCoy nodded. "Well, that's actually something I wanted to talk to you about. I wanted to ask you if I could run some more tests..."
Kurt sighed. "Please, Herr McCoy, I have had enough of zhe probing and prodding. No offense, but I didn't not come down here to spend two hours taking my heartbeat while wearing a metal bowl on my head."
McCoy feigned hurt. "I am sorry for the inconvenience Mister Wagner, I was only merely interested in your health."
Kurt rolled his eyes. "I am still not submitting to any of your tests."
McCoy grinned sheepishly and reached for his stethoscope. He turned back and indicated for Kurt to take off his shirt. "I need for you to take a couple of deep breaths for me."
Kurt furrowed his eyebrows. "Is all of zhis really necessary for a school physical?"
"You don't see any metal bowls do you?"
Kurt rolled his eyes at the instructor's large grin. "I just thought that I'd give you an once-over while you're down here."
McCoy placed the cold metal end of the stethoscope on the left side of the teenage mutant's chest. "Take a deep breath."
Kurt took a deep breath and held it. McCoy listened intently as he spoke. "You know, I don't always run tests involving metal bowls on every student that comes in... Exhale."
Kurt released his breath as McCoy moved the stethoscope onto Kurt's left side. "Deep breath."
Kurt inhaled deeply as McCoy continued talking. "Some students just come and talk to me if they're feeling lonely or have some problems...Exhale."
The teacher took off his stethoscope and wrote down a few comments of a nearby sheet of paper. Kurt lowered his gaze at the elder mutant. "Has Herr Logan been giving you lessons in subtlety?"
McCoy ignored the attempt to derail him. "I'm serious Kurt. If you want to talk about..."
Kurt abruptly cut him off. "No."
McCoy sat back in his chair and raised an eyebrow. "Now Kurt, surely..."
Kurt glared fiercely into the elder mutant's eyes. "I do not want to talk about it."
The elder mutant sighed and took his glasses off his face to clean them. "Kurt, I understand, but bottling up everything is no way to deal with things."
Kurt's glare did not waver as McCoy sat down in his office chair a few feet across from him. "Herr McCoy, I just... Rogue is wary of me; everyone is treating me like I am made of glass. And I just want to be left to myself to try to..."
McCoy nodded and grabbed a thermometer. He looked back into Kurt's pale yellow eyes and finished his sentence. "To deal."
Kurt meekly nodded and looked down at the floor. The large blue instructor leaned over and strapped a hear-rate monitor around Kurt's left arm. "Let's take a look at your heart rate, shall we?"
////////////////////////////////////
"...And this blue demon can disguise himself as a normal person?"
Roger snorted as he took another bite of his Big Mac. "Yeah, it's a real..." The young man paused as he had some difficulty speaking with his mouth full. "It's a real shame just to think about it."
Daniels nodded as he continued to take notes on his electronic note pad. The isolated bench that they had come to sit on rested at the far side of the bus station, away from any other people that could overhear their conversation. "And you're positive that you shot it?"
The overzealous teenager put his burger down and nodded. "Yeah, I was as close to that thing as you are to me. Shot it five times in the back before it went down, and trust me it STAYED down. Blood everywhere and you know how it is."
The reporter chuckled. "Yeah, I know. But anyway, your friends say that they saw it again later?"
Roger nodded and took a sip of his coke. "Yeah, at the mall."
"The, what did you call it, fake version?"
Roger shrugged. "I guess so."
Daniels nodded and looked up at the teen. "How do you know it was really him and not some other imposter?"
Roger became a little defensive. "I don't know. Who else would want to dress up like a known mutie?"
Daniels sighed and cocked his head to the side. "And then there was the disappearing..."
The boy nodded and took another bit of his burger. "Yah, he just reappeared in different places and there was this weird ass smell."
As he took reached for his fries, Roger tried to look over at the e-pad on which Daniels was writing. The reporter closed his electronic notepad and looked sternly into the young man's eyes. "Now if I go ahead with this, I need to make sure that you know what you did and saw. Are you _SURE_ that he was dead?"
Roger looked up, with his mouth still partially full with fries. "Yeah."
The older man nodded and placed his e-pad back into his suit pocket. "Good."
With a fluid motion, Roger felt his breath stop and something warm spread halfway down his neck.
"You know Mister McCain, that once you slit someone's throat, they cannot scream?"
The boy grasped at his neck, silently screaming as the blood squirted out. The redheaded man shook his head. "I guess not, but still. Its very useful information to know."
Roger felt the tears stream down his face as he looked into the cold blue eyes of his killer. The man smirked and knelt down infront the young boy, meeting his gaze. "Well, I guess that it's not going to do you much good now. But don't worry, as far as your parents will be concerned, you got on that bus to New York, and hell, just drifted off the face of the earth. So they won't kick up any dust for you after you're gone. After all, who wants a lying traitorous son?"
Seeing Roger's eyes start to glaze over, the man nodded his head and continued talking. "Anyway, thanks for the information Roger, you made my life just a little bit easier... If it's any consolation to you."
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////
Henry McCoy sighed and took off his latex gloves. "You can go Kurt, we're all done here."
The teenager grabbed his t-shirt and put it back on. "Danke Herr McCoy."
As he slowly got out of the examination chair, McCoy placed a hand on his shoulder. "I know that you want to be left alone. But if you ever need to talk about anything else, anything at all Kurt, you know you can come to me. Anything we say would be held in confidence."
Kurt looked at him quizzically.
McCoy playfully grinned and walked him to the door. "It means I won't tell anyone."
The younger blue mutant gave him a tiny, sad smile and nodded before walking out. "Danke."
Alone in his office, Henry McCoy sat down in his chair and put his head into his large blue hands.
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////
At the Bayville Bus Station, a redheaded man backed up his car and threw a large plastic bag in the trunk. He sighed and looked off into space. "An immortal mutant... how... quaint."
////////////////////////////////////
[1] Random name, I don't know anyone with it.
[2] FoH = Friends of Humanity, an anti-mutant organization.
[3] Random price.
Pairings: Scott/Jean, one-sided Kurtty but well, you'll see
A/N: God knows you can't write more unless you get reviews. Speaking of reviews,
Scrawler: as always, thanks for the ego boost.
TKD: Looking back and re-reading the chapter, I can understand where you're coming from. I was trying to throw Kurt back into his 'normal' routine and have him slowly start to deal with everything. He's not one to usually complain or come right out and tell people what he really feels. I wanted to hint at it and try to be subtle, but as Christine usually says, subtly isn't really my specialty. Sorry if I was a bit off, I think the dialogue between him and Beast will sort of clear it a little up. Also I wanted to speed up the plot because I felt that I was going a little slow. I thought I mentioned that it's about 2-3 weeks after his first death. Still no one is quite sure what the deal is, although Logan does subconsciously. Glad you like the interactions between Rogue and Kurt, I wanted to make sure that it fit. And thanks for the constructive criticism; you only help to make me better.
A/N 2: Roger McCain in this chapter is a very troubled teenager. He committed murder and was praised for killing a mutant his girlfriend. After the truth comes out that Kurt isn't dead, he is shunned for supposedly lying about killing him. So, I have Roger going back and forth between being glad that he didn't kill him, and being angry for not killing him. Also his 'hate for mutants' is more reserved for himself. Let me know if I pulled it off or not
A/N 3: Also the difference between the dialogue of Kurt and Rogue in the last chapter versus Kurt and Beast in this chapter is that last time, Kurt was trying to reassure Rogue that he wasn't going anywhere, that he missed her because of how far she was keeping herself. I think it's in his character to see the distress in others rather than himself. With McCoy, Beast is trying to get Kurt to deal with some of his issues, which Kurt, obviously doesn't want to talk about. I hope all that people can see that. I hope that all comes across.
A/N 4: If you like this story, do yourself, or more likely me, a favor and read and review some of my other stories. Now on to the story!
Disclaimers: I don't own anything relating to Marvel Comics or Highlander.
Dedicated to everyone that has ideas but doesn't think they're good enough
////////////////////////////////////////////
Roger sighed and nervously looked over his shoulder as he continued to walk down the street. He had gotten several new paranoid tendencies in the past few weeks.
Killing someone might do that to a man.
And yet there was no one after him. There was a blip on the eleven o clock news two weeks ago, but nothing since. There weren't a lot of people out there that wanted to hear about a freak dying to protect his mutie-loving girlfriend.
But still, their faces continued to haunt him. The young black girl's eyes staring openly into space as the blood dribbled out of her mouth. The blue demon's screams and fiery yellow eyes as they fought for the gun. After a while he convinced himself it wasn't real.
But still, every time he closed his eyes...
He shook his head to clear the demons, real or imagined, from his mind. He heard that the girl's parents moved away. He couldn't blame them. Who would want to stick around in the same place where you daughter died? Live in the same house where you ate dinner. Sit on the same couch where you watched TV.
He couldn't even stand to look at himself in the mirror anymore. His friends, his posse, were all hyped about it. Some of them went over to the city's FoH [2] chapter and signed them all up. A vice-admiral or whatever they hell they called themselves stopped by his house and told his mom and dad how lucky they were to have such a good, moral responsible son.
He even was in one of their newsletters, a picture of ol' Roger McCain [1] standing proud infront of the American flag with a FoH t-shirt on, arms crossed, chest puffed out, looking proud and fierce. He got questioned about it a lot. He didn't realize how many people really were against the mutants. It was funny, there were more people upset about him not being a radical anti-mutant activist than there were people upset that he killed two people.
Actually one person.
Apparently one of the FoH members saw the mutie freak with his other mutie friends at the mall two days ago. He guessed that the demon lived despite being shot.
Five times.
In the back.
From two yards away.
His friends accused him of lying. Of only killing the mutie-lover but being too scared to cap the freak himself. He was surprised by how offended he got. The guilt was killing him inside, but when confronted he yelled and screamed about how he killed the mutie.
He told them how easy it was to pull the trigger and how good it felt to see the unholy abomination fall to his knees. He told them how beautiful it was to see the blood pour out of his wounds and how right it felt to be doing god's work.
They didn't believe him. They called him a coward and a liar. He was a mutie-lover for not going all the way.
The FoH said that the mutie himself killed his girlfriend after kidnapping her and raping her against her will. They printed a retraction in their national newsletter. They changed her story from being a 'mutie-loving whore' to just a 'poor innocent girl being manipulated by those disgusting freaks of nature.' Roger went from 'a hero striving to defend humanity' to a 'lying little kid wanting attention.'
It burned him up inside thinking that the creature lived. The guilt that had been consuming his soul had stretched out and only fed his anger. He was angry at the freak for living, for making him a liar. He was angry at the girl for dying, for making him a killer. He hated his friends, for making him a traitor. He was angry at the FoH for making him a false hero. And he was angry at himself.
For wanting to kill another mutie to make him a hero again.
As he walked up to the counter, he took a deep breath and reminded himself that there was no going back. The bus station clerk looked down at him and nasally breathed out. "Can I help you son?"
Roger nodded and put his backpack on the floor next to him as he fished for his wallet. "Yeah, how much for a one-way to New York City?"
The attendant raised an eyebrow before punching up the order. "Fifty three- thirty. We got a greyhound leaving in two, two and a quarter hours." [3]
Roger found his wallet and put three twenty dollar bills on the counter. The clerk sighed uncomfortably before making the transaction. He turned back to Roger and handed him the ticket and change. "And six-seventy is your change. You can turn back in your ticket for a full refund if you change your mind, kid."
Like staying would do him any good. "Thanks."
Roger turned away quickly and sat down at one of the sparsely populated benches. There were about thirty or so people here, waiting for different busses to come and go. According to the FoH about one in forty people could have the X-gene. And since Bayville had become 'mutie central' for some odd reason, he bet that there were probably one or two right there with him in the bus terminal.
He rested his backpack against his legs and leaned back into the polished wood. He had about another two hours to kill and...
"Excuse me?"
Roger turned to see a fairly tall redheaded man dressed in gray business suit with a black trench coat. He was slightly startled and jumped a little.
The man smiled and held up his hands in a defensive manner. "I'm sorry if I startled you, but I was wondering..." He reached into his trench coat pocket and fumbled around, causing Roger to lean back a little more in fear. "Uh, listen, I..."
The man pulled out a newspaper article and handed it to the young teenager. "That's you isn't it?"
Roger looked down at the piece of paper. There was a small picture of an angry looking sixteen year old pouting infront of the FoH banner above a few tiny italicized lines of print. The banner of the article read "Sixteen year old Roger McCain, former FoH hero, lied about murder of teenage mutant."
Roger felt his face burn up as the anger coursed throughout his system. He looked up at the smiling man and growled. "Who the hell are you?"
The tall redhead grinned and offered his hand. "Hi, I'm Arthur Daniels with the Associated Press. I wanted to talk to you about..."
Roger groaned as he grabbed his backpack and stood up. The only thing worse than a mutie was a reporter. He offered two words of advice to the news hound before walking away. "Fuck off."
Daniels smirked and walked alongside him. "I was wondering if you would go over some details about what happened that night."
Roger quickened his pace and looked at his watch. "Listen buddy, I don't give a shit what you were wondering, I need to catch a bus."
The reporter grinned. "You bus doesn't leave for another two hours."
Roger slowed down and eyed the redheaded man carefully. "How the fuck do you know that?"
Daniels sighed and reached into his trench coat, pulling out six crisp fifty-dollar bills. "With the right amount of money, you can know anything. The teller thought you were a runaway, I showed him the picture and told him I wanted to bring you home."
Roger took a step back. "To hell with you buddy. I aint going home."
Daniels smiled and played with one of the fifty-dollar bills before extending his hand and showing them to the young man. "I didn't say you have to, all I want is to talk."
////////////////////////////////////
Henry McCoy sat in front of the blank computer screen looking mildly intrigued and mostly annoyed. He put his glasses on and looked back over at the student in the examination chair. "Okay then Mister Wagner, let us try again."
Kurt sighed and held out his left arm again. School was to start back up in two more weeks and all of the students needed to take a school mandated physical. And since the school nurse wasn't going to perform any physicals on the 'filthy mutants' the school board left it up to their families to provide proof of examination or be expelled. The students at the Xavier institute were lucky because McCoy was certified during his tenure as the Bayville High's school coach.
McCoy leaned over with yet another needle and tried to take a blood sample. Kurt hissed in pain as the long thin metal pierced his skin. McCoy smiled as the small test tube began filling with a thick red liquid. After a second the elder mutant pulled out the needle and placed a cotton ball on the inside of Kurt's arm. "Remember to place pressure..."
Kurt gave him a small grin. "Herr McCoy?"
The teacher looked over at his student. "Yes?"
The young mutant lifted up the cotton ball and looked down as tiny streaks of lightening quickly san across the small puncture, closing it up. "I don't zhink I need zhe cotton balls anymore."
The mutant known as 'Beast' stopped his glasses from falling off his nose and raised both of his eyebrows. "Yes, I believe so."
McCoy sighed and tried to think of a polite way to start the conversation that he had been dreading. "Are there any more...um...unexpected..."
Kurt stifled his grin as he watched his professor stumble for words.
"A...uh... any more...things that I should know about?"
"You mean like the weird lightening zhing?"
McCoy shrugged and nodded.
Kurt shook his head. "No, its still zhat and zhe weird feeling when I get around Herr Logan."
McCoy grinned. "I take it Logan has restarted your training regimen."
Kurt groaned. "Ja. If it wasn't for zhis..." his hand wavered around where he puncture wound had healed. "I suspect zhat you would be seeing a lot of me."
McCoy nodded. "Well, that's actually something I wanted to talk to you about. I wanted to ask you if I could run some more tests..."
Kurt sighed. "Please, Herr McCoy, I have had enough of zhe probing and prodding. No offense, but I didn't not come down here to spend two hours taking my heartbeat while wearing a metal bowl on my head."
McCoy feigned hurt. "I am sorry for the inconvenience Mister Wagner, I was only merely interested in your health."
Kurt rolled his eyes. "I am still not submitting to any of your tests."
McCoy grinned sheepishly and reached for his stethoscope. He turned back and indicated for Kurt to take off his shirt. "I need for you to take a couple of deep breaths for me."
Kurt furrowed his eyebrows. "Is all of zhis really necessary for a school physical?"
"You don't see any metal bowls do you?"
Kurt rolled his eyes at the instructor's large grin. "I just thought that I'd give you an once-over while you're down here."
McCoy placed the cold metal end of the stethoscope on the left side of the teenage mutant's chest. "Take a deep breath."
Kurt took a deep breath and held it. McCoy listened intently as he spoke. "You know, I don't always run tests involving metal bowls on every student that comes in... Exhale."
Kurt released his breath as McCoy moved the stethoscope onto Kurt's left side. "Deep breath."
Kurt inhaled deeply as McCoy continued talking. "Some students just come and talk to me if they're feeling lonely or have some problems...Exhale."
The teacher took off his stethoscope and wrote down a few comments of a nearby sheet of paper. Kurt lowered his gaze at the elder mutant. "Has Herr Logan been giving you lessons in subtlety?"
McCoy ignored the attempt to derail him. "I'm serious Kurt. If you want to talk about..."
Kurt abruptly cut him off. "No."
McCoy sat back in his chair and raised an eyebrow. "Now Kurt, surely..."
Kurt glared fiercely into the elder mutant's eyes. "I do not want to talk about it."
The elder mutant sighed and took his glasses off his face to clean them. "Kurt, I understand, but bottling up everything is no way to deal with things."
Kurt's glare did not waver as McCoy sat down in his office chair a few feet across from him. "Herr McCoy, I just... Rogue is wary of me; everyone is treating me like I am made of glass. And I just want to be left to myself to try to..."
McCoy nodded and grabbed a thermometer. He looked back into Kurt's pale yellow eyes and finished his sentence. "To deal."
Kurt meekly nodded and looked down at the floor. The large blue instructor leaned over and strapped a hear-rate monitor around Kurt's left arm. "Let's take a look at your heart rate, shall we?"
////////////////////////////////////
"...And this blue demon can disguise himself as a normal person?"
Roger snorted as he took another bite of his Big Mac. "Yeah, it's a real..." The young man paused as he had some difficulty speaking with his mouth full. "It's a real shame just to think about it."
Daniels nodded as he continued to take notes on his electronic note pad. The isolated bench that they had come to sit on rested at the far side of the bus station, away from any other people that could overhear their conversation. "And you're positive that you shot it?"
The overzealous teenager put his burger down and nodded. "Yeah, I was as close to that thing as you are to me. Shot it five times in the back before it went down, and trust me it STAYED down. Blood everywhere and you know how it is."
The reporter chuckled. "Yeah, I know. But anyway, your friends say that they saw it again later?"
Roger nodded and took a sip of his coke. "Yeah, at the mall."
"The, what did you call it, fake version?"
Roger shrugged. "I guess so."
Daniels nodded and looked up at the teen. "How do you know it was really him and not some other imposter?"
Roger became a little defensive. "I don't know. Who else would want to dress up like a known mutie?"
Daniels sighed and cocked his head to the side. "And then there was the disappearing..."
The boy nodded and took another bit of his burger. "Yah, he just reappeared in different places and there was this weird ass smell."
As he took reached for his fries, Roger tried to look over at the e-pad on which Daniels was writing. The reporter closed his electronic notepad and looked sternly into the young man's eyes. "Now if I go ahead with this, I need to make sure that you know what you did and saw. Are you _SURE_ that he was dead?"
Roger looked up, with his mouth still partially full with fries. "Yeah."
The older man nodded and placed his e-pad back into his suit pocket. "Good."
With a fluid motion, Roger felt his breath stop and something warm spread halfway down his neck.
"You know Mister McCain, that once you slit someone's throat, they cannot scream?"
The boy grasped at his neck, silently screaming as the blood squirted out. The redheaded man shook his head. "I guess not, but still. Its very useful information to know."
Roger felt the tears stream down his face as he looked into the cold blue eyes of his killer. The man smirked and knelt down infront the young boy, meeting his gaze. "Well, I guess that it's not going to do you much good now. But don't worry, as far as your parents will be concerned, you got on that bus to New York, and hell, just drifted off the face of the earth. So they won't kick up any dust for you after you're gone. After all, who wants a lying traitorous son?"
Seeing Roger's eyes start to glaze over, the man nodded his head and continued talking. "Anyway, thanks for the information Roger, you made my life just a little bit easier... If it's any consolation to you."
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////
Henry McCoy sighed and took off his latex gloves. "You can go Kurt, we're all done here."
The teenager grabbed his t-shirt and put it back on. "Danke Herr McCoy."
As he slowly got out of the examination chair, McCoy placed a hand on his shoulder. "I know that you want to be left alone. But if you ever need to talk about anything else, anything at all Kurt, you know you can come to me. Anything we say would be held in confidence."
Kurt looked at him quizzically.
McCoy playfully grinned and walked him to the door. "It means I won't tell anyone."
The younger blue mutant gave him a tiny, sad smile and nodded before walking out. "Danke."
Alone in his office, Henry McCoy sat down in his chair and put his head into his large blue hands.
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////
At the Bayville Bus Station, a redheaded man backed up his car and threw a large plastic bag in the trunk. He sighed and looked off into space. "An immortal mutant... how... quaint."
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[1] Random name, I don't know anyone with it.
[2] FoH = Friends of Humanity, an anti-mutant organization.
[3] Random price.