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Dec. 9th, 2005 08:47 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
azraelz_angelPrompt#39 - Funeral
Title: A Life Well-Lived
Disclaimer - I do not own any of these characters and/or settings. If it looks familiar - I probably didn't invent it.
Rating: FR18
In theory - all my Tara stories should follow a progression of her death in BtVS in an AU.
A/N: I am going to skip from place to place in this series. I’ll try my best to make it easy to follow. The X-Men series takes place after the completion of the Highlander series (not complete), and after the unwritten Firefly/Serenity one. After all 100 are written I will go back through and arrange these chapters in the correct order.
Please enjoy and don’t hesitate to ask for an explanation if needed.
**
Chapter Two of the X-Men Crosses - Prompt#39 - Funeral
**
**
“Like Spackle”
**
Can it really be a funeral if there’s no body?
No that’s why this is a memorial service.
Who is going to be our doctor?
Poor Mr. Summers…
The whispers circulated throughout the auditorium. All the students from Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters were seated, in their own respective cliques, within its walls. Alumni from the school had returned to pay tribute to a fallen friend. And several of the more discreet professional colleagues of Jean’s had attended this private funeral ceremony as well.
Official word had been released to the general public that Dr. Grey had disappeared on a trip to Alkali Lake. At Professor Xavier’s insistence Jean had been classified as missing rather than dead. It had garnered some argument from the staff, but Professor Xavier had ultimately made the decision to have her declared missing.
The last few days had been hectic. Professor Xavier had been busy making plans for the private memorial service, held here at the school, and the public one held in New York City. Professor Scott Summers was a wreck to put it mildly. He rarely came out of his living quarters and when he did it had been almost too painful to watch.
I had spent the better part of my days patching up holes, broken pieces of furniture, and scrubbing up blood stains. It wasn’t a task that I had originally wanted to do, but given the fact that no one else seemed so inclined I volunteered. The teachers had all been tending to Scott and to the students. Both had been a full time job and neither of which I was qualified to handle. So I had scrubbed, and patched, and painted until the memorial service today.
I sat alone in the back of the auditorium. No one had taken the time to get to know me in the last few days, and in all fairness I had not bothered to approach and acknowledge them. Jean had been a fine woman. She had died placing the lives of her team and the children above her own. I could admire that in a person.
Just before Charles stood to give a speech on Jean, a brunette with white streaks, slid into the end chair on my aisle. The girl didn’t even acknowledge my presence but I knew she was aware I was there. I half-listened to Charles’ speech. While I respected the woman for her death and her life’s accomplishments I didn’t know her. The girl beside me was sobbing quietly as the service went on. It was clear that the girl cared for Dr. Grey.
After the funeral ended people rose and began slowly milling about. There was to be a reception back in the main part of the school. A few of the kids spoke to the girl, addressing her as Rogue, but she didn’t leave her seat.
“Are you gonna be taking Dr. Grey’s position here?” the girl finally asked me. She was the first student to speak to me, let alone ask about the situation. I looked into her deep, brown eyes and was utterly surprised to see such an old soul looking back out at me. A warm southern accent flowed out of her. Instantly I liked her. She reminded me of home, and of my mother.
“Not exactly,” I quietly answered. “I’m going to be taking over a few of the classes, helping out in any way I can with medical assistance, but I’m limited in that area. But no, I’m not here to replace Dr. Grey.”
“You don’t look much older than any of us,” she countered and I laughed, delighted.
“I’m much older than I look,” I assured her. She still seemed pretty doubtful.
“How do you know Professor Xavier?”
“I feel like I’ve know him forever but it’s only been such a little while. But he agreed to take me in and I agreed to help him out. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement,” I skirted around the question.
“And how long are you staying?”
“Until I’m no longer needed – generally how it works out.”
“You’re like spackle,” she suddenly blurted out and then blushed. I laughed at that. It was something I would have said…in another life. “Nevermind,” she quickly backtracked. I softly smiled, hopefully showing her I didn’t care. She made herself busy with looking around the nearly empty auditorium. “I’m Rogue,” she finally introduced herself.
“Tara.”
“Let me know if you need help settling in. I know what it’s like being the new person around here,” she added and I was about to respond when she abruptly rose to her feet. “I’m sorry, I hafta go now if I want to catch Logan,” she quickly stated as she rushed to get through the main doors.
I sat there for a few more moments wondering just who Logan was before deciding I may as well get to work on yet another project at the school.
**
Title: A Life Well-Lived
Disclaimer - I do not own any of these characters and/or settings. If it looks familiar - I probably didn't invent it.
Rating: FR18
In theory - all my Tara stories should follow a progression of her death in BtVS in an AU.
A/N: I am going to skip from place to place in this series. I’ll try my best to make it easy to follow. The X-Men series takes place after the completion of the Highlander series (not complete), and after the unwritten Firefly/Serenity one. After all 100 are written I will go back through and arrange these chapters in the correct order.
Please enjoy and don’t hesitate to ask for an explanation if needed.
**
Chapter Two of the X-Men Crosses - Prompt#39 - Funeral
**
**
“Like Spackle”
**
Can it really be a funeral if there’s no body?
No that’s why this is a memorial service.
Who is going to be our doctor?
Poor Mr. Summers…
The whispers circulated throughout the auditorium. All the students from Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters were seated, in their own respective cliques, within its walls. Alumni from the school had returned to pay tribute to a fallen friend. And several of the more discreet professional colleagues of Jean’s had attended this private funeral ceremony as well.
Official word had been released to the general public that Dr. Grey had disappeared on a trip to Alkali Lake. At Professor Xavier’s insistence Jean had been classified as missing rather than dead. It had garnered some argument from the staff, but Professor Xavier had ultimately made the decision to have her declared missing.
The last few days had been hectic. Professor Xavier had been busy making plans for the private memorial service, held here at the school, and the public one held in New York City. Professor Scott Summers was a wreck to put it mildly. He rarely came out of his living quarters and when he did it had been almost too painful to watch.
I had spent the better part of my days patching up holes, broken pieces of furniture, and scrubbing up blood stains. It wasn’t a task that I had originally wanted to do, but given the fact that no one else seemed so inclined I volunteered. The teachers had all been tending to Scott and to the students. Both had been a full time job and neither of which I was qualified to handle. So I had scrubbed, and patched, and painted until the memorial service today.
I sat alone in the back of the auditorium. No one had taken the time to get to know me in the last few days, and in all fairness I had not bothered to approach and acknowledge them. Jean had been a fine woman. She had died placing the lives of her team and the children above her own. I could admire that in a person.
Just before Charles stood to give a speech on Jean, a brunette with white streaks, slid into the end chair on my aisle. The girl didn’t even acknowledge my presence but I knew she was aware I was there. I half-listened to Charles’ speech. While I respected the woman for her death and her life’s accomplishments I didn’t know her. The girl beside me was sobbing quietly as the service went on. It was clear that the girl cared for Dr. Grey.
After the funeral ended people rose and began slowly milling about. There was to be a reception back in the main part of the school. A few of the kids spoke to the girl, addressing her as Rogue, but she didn’t leave her seat.
“Are you gonna be taking Dr. Grey’s position here?” the girl finally asked me. She was the first student to speak to me, let alone ask about the situation. I looked into her deep, brown eyes and was utterly surprised to see such an old soul looking back out at me. A warm southern accent flowed out of her. Instantly I liked her. She reminded me of home, and of my mother.
“Not exactly,” I quietly answered. “I’m going to be taking over a few of the classes, helping out in any way I can with medical assistance, but I’m limited in that area. But no, I’m not here to replace Dr. Grey.”
“You don’t look much older than any of us,” she countered and I laughed, delighted.
“I’m much older than I look,” I assured her. She still seemed pretty doubtful.
“How do you know Professor Xavier?”
“I feel like I’ve know him forever but it’s only been such a little while. But he agreed to take me in and I agreed to help him out. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement,” I skirted around the question.
“And how long are you staying?”
“Until I’m no longer needed – generally how it works out.”
“You’re like spackle,” she suddenly blurted out and then blushed. I laughed at that. It was something I would have said…in another life. “Nevermind,” she quickly backtracked. I softly smiled, hopefully showing her I didn’t care. She made herself busy with looking around the nearly empty auditorium. “I’m Rogue,” she finally introduced herself.
“Tara.”
“Let me know if you need help settling in. I know what it’s like being the new person around here,” she added and I was about to respond when she abruptly rose to her feet. “I’m sorry, I hafta go now if I want to catch Logan,” she quickly stated as she rushed to get through the main doors.
I sat there for a few more moments wondering just who Logan was before deciding I may as well get to work on yet another project at the school.
**
