Disclaimer: X-Men is owned by Marvel. This story is owned by me.
A.p.R. - Hello everyone, this is my new account name. 2nd String Hero. Well, I'm here with a new chapter and an explanation of why it's been taking so long for me to update. I've spent the last few months getting my life the way it should have been. I've gotten several people out of my life that I really needed to get away from and may more people I needed into my life. My acting career is getting really good. I've been getting a lot of experiance and making a lot of friends. My life is how is should have been. I'm happy again. Truly happy. So without further wait, I give you chapter 46 of Coming of Age.
Professor Xavier and Logan were standing in the infirmary, looking on as Hank stood over Duncan, examining him. Duncan was unconscious and shirtless, lying on the cold examining table.
"Where did you say you found him, Logan?" Dr. Hank McCoy asked, feeling Duncan's ribs for any fractures.
"In the bushing, just short of the gate; I thought he was dead. I kicked him a few times, he groaned, so I brought him in. I'll tell ya, Chuck, if I knew who he was I'd have left him." Logan explained.
The Professor, Charles Xavier, raised a brow, turning his chair to look at the gruff man. "Logan?"
"I'm just saying if all the stories are true I don't know if it's such a hot plan to keep him here." he said gruffly, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
"Would you rather have left him out there to die?" Hank asked, irritated and his mind preoccupied with other things as he checked Duncan's pupils.
Logan raised an eyebrow. "Did you hear me oppose?" he asked with a cocky smirk as Hank walked past him into the testing room.
"Logan, this is a shelter. A sanctuary…for mutants and humans alike." stated Charles. "What if we had turned Kurt away…or Marc or even you for that matter?"
Logan winced slightly at the mention of Marc. "Well, I'm gonna be right there with the 'I told you so's' when an anti-mutant mob shows up and tries to torch the institute."
"It doesn't look like we'll need to be worried about that." Hank intervened, walking back into his room with a sheet of paper in his hands.
Logan scoffed. "What're ya talkin' about, McCoy?"
"I am talking about this." he corrected, annoyed slightly. He pointed to the paper. "It appears that the sample of DNA I obtained from him is no different from his most recent blood test. But neither matches with one that was taken last year...most curious."
"So let me get this straight - you hacked into personal medical records, you took DNA samples off the boy, and you corrected my speech. Somebody's showin' off." Logan replied.
"I'm doing my job…" he said, smugly and intelligently. Logan growled quietly.
"Children." Xavier said, calmly and composed. He wheeled over to the two men. Logan and Hank stood down; the Professor had that kind of effect on people. "Now, Hank, what you're saying can mean only one of two things. Either someone had tampered with his blood…""
Hank nodded. "Or young Mr. Matthews is a mutant…"
There was an eerie silence, the air was tense, and both Xavier and Hank ran this through their mind.
"Well, duh." Logan stated.
"What!" Hank snapped, just unable to endure Logan bravado today.
Xavier raised a brow, directing his stare at the Canuck. "Have you known this the whole time?"
"Yeah, 'course. I could smell it on him."
"Then what was all that about 'anti-mutant mobs'?" asked Hank, shaking his head.
Logan sighed. "He hated mutants. As far as I'm concerned a leopard can't change his spots."
"Coming from you, that's ironic." Hank replied.
"Listen, don't start with me - you won't finish." he growled, moving up to Beast.
"A house divided against itself cannot stand." Xavier said, adamantly.
"Gerald Ford?" Hank queried.
"The Bible." answered Logan, knowing the question was not aimed at him.
The Professor nodded. "Yes. I expect you both to act like grown men from now on. Am I clear?"
"Crystal." Logan stated, shrugging his brown leather jacket up on his shoulders right in front of Hank before, walking out of the room.
Xavier sighed. Where was Storm when he needed her?
Meanwhile, in Arizona…
Ororo had her two bags on her bed as she was beginning to empty her drawers and
"Marc? Are you ready, child?" Ororo said, packing her clothes so that they could leave as soon as possible after the memorial service.
"Almost, Ororo." he replied, struggling with his tie. He let out a small chuckle. After all this time he still couldn't figure out how to put a tie on correctly.
She gave a small laugh.
He looked back at her with a small grin. "Something funny?"
"No offense…but you look like you're fighting off a rattle snake."
"Point being?" he asked, ready to hang himself with the darn tie if it didn't cooperate soon.
"Need help with your tie, Marc?"
"No thanks…I got it." he said, tossing it to the side and using the clip on that was hanging on the hand towel rack.
Marc looked at himself in the mirror in front of him, everything was perfect just five days ago, in five short days his world again met death. This time was different though. Now he was putting on a black suit to put to rest his first love. It was going to be hard to lie to all of Marcia's family but it was for the best. He hated lying but it was for the best.
"Meet me in the car, okay?" she said.
"Yeah…okay." he said, putting his note cards for Marcia's eulogy in his pocket and heading out to the car.
Within a half an hour they arrived at the, cemetery. The same memorial park where Marc's parents lie.
"Soy contento veníais - I'm so glad you came." Were the first words he heard as he exited the car. A Mexican woman in her early fifties walked up to him and engulfed him in a massive hug. "She would have wanted you here." she added, patting his back.
He smiled, kindly. "Mrs. Nady? Mucho gusto en conocerle."
She released their hug. "Please, call me Gloria. It's good to finally meet you too." she replied with a thick accent.
A large, broad shouldered, man walked over to the two and stopped just at the side of his wife. This was Mr. Nady. He had an ashy gray mustache and a buzz cut; he looked like he was in the marines at one point in his life.
He held out his hand. "Hello, I'm Alex…you must be, Marc." he stated, noticing the tears in his wife's eyes.
Marc shook his hand. "Sí. Soy afligido por su pérdida, Mr. Nady."
"Who's this with you?" asked Gloria, noticing Ororo walking over to them.
Marc's eyes looked back at Ororo. "Oh, that's-"
"Ororo Munroe." Ororo said holding her hand out to Gloria. Gloria hugged her anyways. Marc just smiled warmly.
"It was kind of you to come." said Alex, his voice deep and his eyes watery.
"Marc, I know it was a lot to ask of you but did you finish the eulogy?" Gloria asked, trying to keep a stiff upper lip.
"Yes…I was up all night…finishing it." he said, the tips of the cards sticking out of his pant pockets.
"Great!" she said, kissing him on the cheek. "The ceremony is going to start in a few minutes, so be ready." she said then she and Alex headed off to greet others.
"Mrs. Nady seems nice." stated Ororo to Marc.
"Yeah…we Mexican's are huggers." he replied, smiling modestly as they walked over to the reserved area.
The next fifteen minutes went by in slow motion, Marc felt like he was going to throw up. The nervousness was consuming him. Soon, it was his time.
Marc walked up four wooden steps onto the small stage, a podium in the center. There was a microphone, with stand, connected to the podium. He made his way over to the stand, holding his note cards in hand. He took a deep breath as he looked at all of the people standing before him. Most were crying, some of them were looking to others for comfort, but they all had their attention on him. He began speaking.
"This, this is my second time up here in about six months. The last time I spoke in this place was when my parents passed away. But there is something that I have learned that makes this different for me. All of us here today have come to mourn and grieve for her. That's not what this is; this is not a time of wretchedness. Though short, Marcia's life was not sad. This is not a time of sorrow; this is a time of celebration. A celebration of her life. A time to reminisce - to remember all the good, and bad, times we've all shared with her. Marcia Nady loved her life, she once told me she loved when it rained. It soothed her to sleep. She loved each and every one of you out there. She was a girl who loved everyone…and we all loved her." he sighed, setting his cards down and taking the mic out of its stand and held it in his hands.
A few tears streamed down his by cheeks now, he was trying to keep them down to a minimum for her parent's sakes. "If you haven't noticed already, I've been speaking in the past tense. This makes everything said false. Here's the lesson I've learned in the last few days…we all treat Marcia as if she was gone. She is dead…but not gone. She loves the rain, she loves us…and…we love her. Amamos usted, Marcia. I'm sorry…" he whispered the last part to himself, setting the microphone down.
He walked down the four steps, never once stopping to look at the crowd. He walked to the isle of seats where his seat was, taking his seat next to Ororo. He felt something brush his shoulder and he looked over and saw a young woman just taking her seat right now. She quickly looked at him to apologize and her jaw almost dropped. "Marc…?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Whisper…?"
Whisper sat down, slowly, looking at him. "You knew…"
"Yeah…and you knew…" Marc nodded.
"Yes…" she said, slowly.
They both stared at each other for a moment then look forward gradually and unbelieving.
After a few more members of the family spoke, everyone had moved to coffin which was in the spot it was to be lowered.
There were a group of people standing around the coffin, family, and friends. Marc, Whisper, and Ororo stood together facing a side of the coffin. Gloria and Alex stood at the head of the coffin, Gloria leaning against Alex's chest as she wept.
"We commend to almighty God…" The Minister said, his arms behind his back as he stood in front of Marc and the others.
If you stood in the crowd, you would feel a part of something big for there was seventy-six people there this day. However, if you looked down on them from the tallest tree they would seem nothing more than a speck.
"...our sister, Marcia Nady…"
Marc ad Ororo held hands as tears streamed slowly from Marc's eyes. Whisper crossed her arms over her chest, her head slightly turned down, crying.
"...and we commit her body to the ground."
Marc, Whisper, and Ororo were still at the front of the group, the only person ahead of them was the Minister. Whisper was wearing a black dress, much like the one she wore the previous night. Marc in black pants with a black coat over it. Ororo word a black dress as well.
"Earth to earth...ashes to ashes…" The Minister continues, Gloria winces. "...and dust to dust."
They all can hear the sound of a shovel digging into earth. Whisper suddenly turned and buried her face in Marc's shoulder. He put his arms around her, still staring at the coffin.
A shovel began putting the first dirt on the coffin, then the second scoop followed, then the third, the fourth, the fifth, the six, the seventh. Soon, the coffin was fully concealed to them all by the earth.
"The Lord bless her and keep her."
The group slowly broke up. One by one they all hugged Gloria.
"The Lord makes his face to shine upon her and be gracious to her."
Marc walked with Whisper, still upset and leaning on his shoulder. Ororo walking in the background behind her. Alex and Gloria hug each other tightly.
"The Lord lift up his countenance upon her…"
Marcia's little cousin, Jake, leans on his mother's shoulder, crying.
" ...and give her peace."
The sun was high over head now, some time had passed. The family had all moved back over to the reserved area.
Marc standing alone at the grave, with Whisper behind. "Marcia…I'm so sorry." he said, looking at the headstone. Flowers and pictures surrounded it.
"Did you love her?" Whisper asked, walking up to him.
"I loved her once…" he replied.
"I knew it…I could see it in your eyes. You're a mutant too, right?"
This caught Marc completely off guard and he had no clue what to say. "Uh- huh, um, well…ahh….what?" he stumbled through his words, putting his hand on the back of his head.
"It's okay…I used to hate mutants. Until I met Marcia…and now you." she said, walking over and putting her hand on his shoulder. "It got me thinking that their not that bad."
Marc smiled. "But, you don't really know me. I could be a monster, a murderer, a cold blooded killer. Or worse…I could be a politician."
Whisper chuckled. "I can tell…you're too sweet to ever kill anyone."
"Thanks, it a nice thought." he said with a small sigh.
Ororo walked over to them slowly. "Marc, it is time to go."
"Oh…okay." he replied and hugged Whisper. "You gonna follow me to New York?" he asked, jokingly.
"No…" she chuckled, hugging him back.
He smiled. "If you show up at my dentist's office I'll be mighty angry."
"You did say anything about your hair salon." she said with a wink.
"Call me some time." he said with a smile.
"It was nice meeting you." Ororo said, shaking hands with Whisper.
"Ditto."
"Ready?" Marc said.
Ororo nodded. "Yes." They both started walking away. They said their goodbyes to the family and then drove off back to the hotel. Once there they grabbed their things and headed for the airport and back to Bayville.
That's all for now. Thanks to all of you who've stuck it out with me. Thanks. Please review.