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- THE BEAST
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- CECILIA REYES
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- ICEMAN
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- STORM
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- CYCLOPS
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- PROTEUS
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- CAMERON DALIN
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- BOOTYLICIOUS
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST
By Ryan Krupienski
The Xavier Institute; Cerebro
A group of six individuals stand in the middle of the large, round room and look up at the metallic helmet hanging ten feet above them from a quartet of silver cables. One of them, a tall, blue-furred man resembling a lion, is facing the other five, all young mutants here for one purpose: to learn. They are before Doctor Henry ‘Hank’ McCoy, headmaster of the Xavier Institute and their teacher; he feels at his best when he can bestow knowledge upon those who were once where he was… young and idealistic, trying to cope with incredible new abilities, and just attempting to find a place in the ever-changing world. It seems so long ago, but ever since the school reopened its doors to these and more new students, Hank’s been reminiscing back to the good old days, when things were, in many ways, not so complicated.
As Hank speaks, his audience pays him their full attention. “Cerebro was first built by Professor Charles Xavier nearly twenty years ago,” he says, his eyes glancing over each of his charges. “It detects distinct brainwave energy which only mutants omit. Cerebro’s software processes and evaluates the psionic broadcasts and determines the subject’s location, roughly measures his or her level of power, and if there is enough data available, establishes an identity. It is through this process that we were able to locate you and your peers.”
Hank pauses for a moment, wondering if any of the students might voice any opposition to the method by which they were found; he can understand how some may feel it an invasion of privacy, though he’s more than ready to reassure them that the intentions were strictly noble. No one speaks up with any concerns, however, so Hank continues his lesson. “The name ‘Cerebro’ comes from the human cerebrum, the largest and most recently evolved part of the brain, and also the part of it responsible for the transmission of psionic waves. While just about anyone can be taught to use the device, it functions most optimally while linked to the mind of a telepath. A more powerful telepath, such as Professor Grey-Summers, can also amplify Cerebro’s detection abilities.”
Hank pauses once more and clears his throat. “Any questions so far?”
“Ah have one,” a rotund, blonde-haired girl says, raising her pudgy arm into the air.
“Go ahead, Tam… Bootylicious.” She made it very clear during their last encounter that she does not want to be called by her birth name.
“Okay, now, if you’re not a telepath, but you use this thing, could it make you read people’s minds?” Bootylicious asks curiously in her slight Southern drawl.
“Good question,” Hank responds. “The answer is no… Cerebro does not actually penetrate the subject’s mind, it simply scans for and locks onto their brainwaves. However, a telepath could take that next step if they so chose.”
A short Asian boy is next to raise his hand; Hank nods, signaling for him to go ahead. “How far can it find someone, Professor?”
“Another good question. Typically, Cerebro can reach anywhere on the North and South American continents, though I’m currently working to improve its range. However, when being used by a high-order telepath, Cerebro’s reach can extend all the way to the other side of the world. That’s how we located you in Osaka, Takuto.”
Takuto nods in understanding, and Hank looks to see if anyone else has raised their hand. “No more questions? Alright, continuing on then… Cerebro operates as a sort of artificial intelligence, and does much more than simply locate mutant bio-signatures…”
As Hank goes on with his lesson, his mind partially drifts to thoughts of something else entirely. He hasn’t seen her for more than ten minutes at a time in weeks… their schedules are so hectic these days, they barely get to spend any time together. Regardless, Hank is still thinking of Cecilia quite a bit, and his love for her is stronger than ever. He just hopes that what he plans to do in the not-too-distant future won’t scare her away…
New York University Medical Center
A dark-skinned woman with long dreadlocks stands at the front of the classroom, dressed in a white doctor’s coat and holding a piece of white chalk. Around thirty young men and women, all in their late teens, occupy the five rows of seats facing the front wall which displays a large chalkboard. As their teacher speaks, most of the students take notes, while one or two have opted to use the class as a chance to get some more sleep.
“Now, the next thing you do is a preliminary physical examination,” the woman says, writing the last three words up on the chalkboard and underlining them. “It’s imporant that you first remove any threat to you, the patient, or any bystanders. Is the patient armed? Look for a weapon, and if you find one, turn it over right away to the nearest law enforcement official.”
“What if there’s no cops around, Doctor Reyes?” a young man asks from the second row.
“Then you need to engage the safety and unload the remaining rounds yourself, which is why most EMS training programs will teach you the basics of using a gun. And Brian, raise your hand first, please,” Cecilia says, not happy about being interrupted. “Now, does anyone else have questions before I continue?”
No one speaks or raises their hand but a few shake their heads. “Okay, next up,” Cecilia says as she begins to write on the chalkboard again, “we’re gonna learn our ABC’s. These are the second step of the physical examination of the victim. Airway: Secure the airway while taking precautions to stabilize the cervice spine, if indicated…”
Just as Cecilia is about to go on, a bell rings, and the sound of books slamming shut and chairs pushing out can be heard echoing through the room. “Alright, we’ll pick up where we left off next week. And Diane Pew, I better not catch you sleeping in my class again!”
As the students file out of the room through the two doors at opposite ends of the room, a tall man with a lighter complexion and short, black curly hair, wearing the same doctor’s coat as Cecilia, enters. He walks up to Cecilia, a clipboard under one arm, and gives her a friendly smile. “If it makes you feel any better, she sleeps in my class too,” he says, taking a seat on one of the corners of Cecilia’s desk.
“Yeah, well, I’d feel even better if she’d keep her big head up off the desk while I’m talking,” Cecilia says, earning a laugh from her companion. “It’s her loss, though… no way she’s passing now. But what’s up with you, Frank?”
“Just passing through, thought I would stop in and say hello. And see if you wanted to get a bite to eat.”
“I’ll take a raincheck. I actually have to get back to Westchester, I have a class at the institute in a couple hours, but before that I’ve already got a lunch date.”
“With your Cookie Monster?” Frank says teasingly. Cecilia might get offended at such a comment from anyone else, but she knows her fellow doctor means no harm by it.
“No,” Cecilia says with a small laugh, “The Man won’t be available. Having lunch with a friend. So, I guess you’re on your own.”
“In that case I’ll just head over to the other side of town and surprise the wife, I guess.” Frank sighs at the mention of his significant other; Cecilia knows he’s not exactly happy with his home life, but she doesn’t want to be intrusive and ask him how it’s going, so she won’t.
“So,” Cecilia says as she finishes gathering up her things and starts heading for the door, “I’ll see you Friday then. Take it easy, Doctor Hubbard.”
“Cecilia, wait,” Frank says as he follows quickly behind her. “There’s one thing I wanted to ask you… I don’t want to invade your privacy, but I’m a little worried.”
“Well, go on then, what is it?”
“This was completely by accident, I swear, but I saw that Doctor La Rue ordered some tests for you… an MRI, blood tests, bone scan… Cecilia, are you all right?”
Cecilia sighs and her eyes move to the ground. “I’m fine… it’s just for precaution, nothing more. I really do have to go, Frank.”
Frank is taken aback at Cecilia’s calm response to his question, as he’s known her to be someone who doesn’t take kindly to people getting in her business. He’s not going to probe any deeper, though; if she wants to tell him anything else, she will, and if not, he’ll simply have to deal with it. He doesn’t want to risk losing her as a friend.
“Alright… see you Friday.”
Cecilia leaves the room and begins walking through the hallway, wishing that Frank hadn’t brought the subject of her tests up. She was planning on this being a relaxing day, one where she wouldn’t have to think about what’s to come, but that’s not going to happen now. Maybe lunch will help distract her, just a little… it’s better than wondering if her worst fears are going to come true. She can’t even begin to imagine how Hank would feel…
The Xavier Institute; Locker Room
Two young men sit at opposite ends of one of the benches that lay between the locker-lined walls of the corridor. The room itself sits just across the hall from the Danger Room, and is quite a change the from the sterile metal that seems to be everywhere on the sub-basement levels; the lockers and benches are oak wood, and the floor is covered with light navy blue carpet. It’s almost like being inside the locker facility of a plain old fitness center.
These two young men are not in any ordinary place, though, and there is in fact nothing ordinary about their lives. Peter Valentino is a teenage mutant with shape-shifting abilities, and his slightly older friend is Cameron Dalin, a former Mutant Underground operative who is currently the only human resident at the Xavier Institute. They’ve both been staying at the mansion for little over a month now, and neither can complain. They’ve been able to stop running away from trouble long enough to settle in, relax, enjoy life, make new friends… it’s nothing new to Peter, his life was more or less ‘normal’, although maybe not as enjoyable, just before the Friends Of Humanity attacked him. Cameron, on the other hand, doesn’t remember the last time he had a life outside of being an undercover operative. It’s a nice change, to say the very least.
“I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to the fact that those things are just holograms,” Cam says as he pulls a short-sleeve shirt over his head. His voice is thinly layered with an accent, indicating his South American heritage. “It all looks so real, you know?”
“I know, right?” Peter responds, staying seated on his bench and glancing back and forth between his friend and various parts of the locker room. “The first time Chris told me it was alien technology I was just like… damn. I can’t believe some of the stuff they got here.”
“And I can’t believe some of the polluelos calientes they got here,” Cam says, a grin forming on his face, catching his young companion off-guard with the subject change.
“What does that mean?” Peter asks. “I know it has something to do with women, knowing you…”
“It more or less means ‘hot chicks’,” Cam says with a laugh. “And I’m serious. There is some fine-ass booty goin’ on up in here. I’m sure you’ve noticed!”
“Damn straight!” The two of them laugh at the last comment, and Peter throws in, “Well, not me, but, you know.”
“Ha!” Cam laughs once more, and just shakes his head. Peter never fails to amuse him. “But seriously, muchacho,” he says, putting a humorous emphasis on the last word, “I’ve never been around so many beautiful women in my life. And especially now that me and Leyu aren’t together no more… well, I can do more than ‘window shop’, know what I mean?”
“And who do you have your eye on, exactly? If you tell me Jean Grey, I think I’ll spit nails.”
“No no no,” Cam says, holding up his hands defensively. “I mean, she’s a pretty lady, but I normally don’t dig white girls, especially redheads. I like dark, exotic women… you know me. Doctor Reyes… now THERE is something I could sink my teeth into! Nice ass, nice chest, just hot all around.”
“I have to admit, she really is an attractive woman,” Peter says with a nod of agreement.
“Oh yeah. But then of course, there is my goddess…” Peter rolls his eyes, knowing full well what’s coming next. “ORORO. Man… that woman just… damn! Holy moly…”
“You know, I heard she’s a lesbian.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yep.”
“Hmm. Interesting.”
“Actually,” comes a third male voice, notably older than the other two, “she’s bisexual. But you didn’t hear that from me.”
Cam and Peter turn to see Scott Summers walking towards them, an amused smile plastered across his face. “Don’t mind me, gentlemen,” he says as he starts to walk past them, “just on my way to the shower.”
“Oh, Mister Summers,” Cam says, a bit nervous as he wonders how much the first X-Man heard, “sorry, sir, we didn’t mean…”
“Cameron, let me tell you something,” Scott says, stopping to stand still for a moment. “You can’t possibly imagine the way some of us ‘seniors’ used to talk about the women back in our early days here. Lesbians are child’s play.”
The two young men can’t help but burst into laughter at the last comment, and while it catches Scott completely off-guard, he’s glad someone thinks he’s funny. “Carry on,” he says as he begins walking towards the showers.
“Hey Mister Summers, you’re all right!” Cam shouts after Scott.
“Thanks!” comes the response. “And call me Scott!”
“Man, can you believe that?” Cam says as his and Peter’s laughter subsides. “I thought he was a total stick in the mud. Guess not.”
“No, he’s a really nice guy,” Peter says. “You just have to give him a chance. And…”
Peter suddenly stops himself before his next sentence goes any further. “And…?” Cam asks. “What?”
“Oh… nothing.”
It suddenly clicks in Cam’s head, and he can’t help but start laughing yet again. “Holy shit!” he yells into the air. His voice becomes less audible as he says to his friend, “You like that guy?!”
“Keep your voice down!” Peter says insistently. “Yeah… I do! Okay? You have a problem with that, Mister Lesbian Lover?!”
“Hey, man, go for it,” Cam says encouragingly, still laughing, “just watch out for rampaging redheads! Or is Chris going to take care of that for you?”
More laughter. It seems to never end. “Let’s not even go there! You know how pissed he gets when we bring that up.”
“Yeah, well, ‘Bolt’ ain’t here,” Cam says, as if to poke fun at the absent young man’s codename. “Speaking of that, did you ever choose a ‘mutant name’ or whatever they’re calling it?”
“I actually did,” Peter answers. “I was trying to think of something that kind of went along with shape-shifting, and a couple nights ago I was reading this mythology site on the internet and learned about this Greek god named Proteus who could disguise himself as anyone. So… that’s my name. ‘Proteus’.”
“Huh,” Cam says, nodding his head, “that’s a cool name. Good thing you didn’t choose something retarded like ‘Morph’ or ‘Changeling’. Woulda had to smack you, man. Not that you’d mind.”
“Shut up,” Peter says, stifling a laugh. “And what about you?”
“Uh… I’m not a mutant.”
“So? You live with mutants, and you’ve gone out on some missions with the team… why not?”
Cam ponders the idea for a minute, and suddenly begins thinking of names for himself. For a long moment, he goes over the possibilities in his head… but nothing seems to fit or sound good. “You know, I can’t think of anything,” he says, sighing in defeat. “I think I’ll just be plain old Cameron.”
“Oh, we’ll get you a codename one of these days. But I guess if ‘fine-ass’ Doctor Reyes can go without one, so can you.” Peter sighs, then looks down at himself and realizes he’s still in his towel. “Well I should probably get dressed.”
“No shit. I was starting to think that maybe you were waiting for me to leave, so you could go back in the shower after your hunk of beef!” Cam says, relentlessly teasing his friend. Peter responds by flipping him the bird, and Cam nods and chuckles. “Uh-huh, right. Hey, I’ll see you later, Pete.”
“Okay, later,” Peter says as Cam disappears around the corner. He smiles to himself, knowing he’s going to be in a good mood for at the least the next couple hours. It feels good to know he has someone to talk to about anything and everything, not having to worry about what they think of him, and that he can be the same for that person too.
Since arriving at the mansion, Peter’s life has been nothing short of incredible. At least compared to anything before it. He’s truly happy for the first time since he can remember. He can’t help but feel, though, that someway, somehow… it’s all going to be torn away from him. And that scares him to death.
Professor McCoy’s Office
There is a faint knock at the dark mahogany door, and Hank looks up from his papers while removing his reading glasses. “Come in,” he says in his gentleman’s voice. The door opens to reveal a tall, white-haired woman, and Hank nods and smiles as she enters.
“Good afternoon, Ororo,” he says pleasantly. “Please, come and take a seat.”
“Thank you, Henry,” Ororo responds. She walks over to the long desk and sits down in one of the chairs across from Hank. “Am I disturbing you? I hope you’re not busy.”
“No, no, just preparing for my next class in fifteen minutes. I’m more or less finished, though. What can I do for you?”
“Nothing, thank you. I just wanted to come say hello and see how you were doing. We don’t get much time to talk these days.”
Hank smiles warmly at her. “I’m glad you came. You’re right… it seems none of us here get to ‘hang out’ as much as we used to… but at least the sacrifice is for a good cause.”
“Indeed it is.” Ororo nods in agreement. “I wonder, though, what exactly is it that you’re sacrificing besides your free time?”
Hank eyes his friend and teammate curiously. “I beg your pardon? I’m not sure I see where you’re going with this.”
“Let me be blunt, then,” Ororo says. “When was the last time you spent a nice, quiet evening with Cecilia?”
Hank’s heart skips a beat at the mention of his lady love’s name. He looks down at his papers, then back at Ororo, and he sighs. “It’s… been a while, I’m sorry to say. Though I must inquire, why are you so curious about my relationship with Cecilia?”
“Inquiring minds want to know.”
“Cute.”
“Henry,” Ororo says, her tone becoming more serious now, “I’ve seen how things have been for everyone since the school reopened… we have all been busier, perhaps, than ever before. Jean and Scott still find time for each other, however, and…”
“Not to be rude, but Scott does not work full-time for one of New York City’s most prestigious hospitals in addition to teaching here at the institute,” Hank says, cutting Ororo off before she can go any further. “Not to mention that Scott and Jean are married… Cecilia and myself are not.”
“So that makes your relationship less valid, then?”
“That’s not at all what I said, I’m simply saying that…”
“You are trying to make excuses, Henry. You are trying to make excuses for Cecilia, and for yourself, so you do not have to feel bad about your lack of time together, which you surely do. Trust me, I know, because I once did the same thing myself.”
At first Hank doesn’t pick up on what Ororo’s talking about, but then it suddenly clicks. “Forge,” he says, and Ororo nods. “I thought the reason the two of you broke up was because he changed his mind about marrying you?”
“That was part of it,” Ororo says, her tone indicating a hint of sadness. “The other part was that, for a while, we did not spend any real quality time together… we had gone longer without really seeing each other than you and Cecilia have. Then, when he asked me to marry him… it was so sudden, so unexpected… but I was going to say yes, Henry. I really was. Forge, though, made it up in his mind that I could never leave this school and truly build an individual life for myself. So he left.”
“Was he right?”
“In some ways… yes. I loved him so much, though, Henry, that I would have left it all behind for him… to be his wife. I would have coped. I did not get that chance.”
Hank sighs, mulling over what to say next. “Well,” he begins, “I never knew exactly what happened, Ororo… I’m sorry. Though I can certainly draw parallels between your situation and mine, overall I would say we are, to put it metaphorically, in completely different boats.”
“Maybe, my friend,” Ororo says, “but that does not change the fact that you are wasting time. I do not mean to preach or stick my nose in your personal business… I only want you to be happy, Henry. Therefore I’m advising you to not waste another moment. You should take Cecilia away for a romantic weekend somewhere, make sure she knows full well exactly how much you love her… and from then on, make it a point to spend a certain amount of time together. What you two have is too wonderful to let die.”
“A little melodramatic today, aren’t we?” Hank quips, amused but touched by Ororo’s words.
“Sorry,” Ororo says innocently. “I am serious, though!”
“Yes, I know!” Hank responds in an over-energetic tone, and he rises from his chair as Ororo does the same. They smile at each other, and Hank takes her slender hand in his paw and lifts it to his mouth to give it a gentle kiss. “Thank you, my dear,” he says appreciatively, “my eyes hath been opened.”
“Just make sure you follow through. Again, I apologize for being nosey, but I hate to see such a wonderful relationship possibly fall apart for nothing.”
Hank silently ponders a private thought for a moment, and Ororo eyes him curiously. “Henry?” she questions him. “Henry, are you all right?”
“Just fine, thanks to you,” Hank responds. He smiles at Ororo mischeviously and says, “I want to show you something… but you have to promise to not tell anyone, especially Cecilia…”
The Courtyard
Behind the mansion, all around its massive backyard, much activity is taking place. While mutant children of all ages dash madly around outside in the winter wonderland, building igloos or having snowball fights, two particular individuals sit on the sidelines eating their lunches. It might seem unusual that anyone would want to have a picnic out in the cold, but when you can transform your body into ice or shield it with psioplasmic energy, you tend to be all right.
“I’m tellin’ you,” says the young man named Bobby Drake, “Boston Market is boss, man. I could live off their sandwiches!”
“Drake, stop being so white.” The sarcastic jab is courtesy of Cecilia Reyes, who sits next to Bobby at a table on the mansion’s back patio. “No one uses the word ‘boss’ in that context anymore.”
“Hey, I know a couple of people who do. Besides, I want to be unique and different, you know?”
“As if being a half-Jewish college dropout with the mutant ability to toss snowballs isn’t unique enough? Hmm.” Cecilia takes a bite of her sandwich, and washes it down with a sip of her Sierra Mist.
Bobby is left speechless for a moment, but comes back with, “Well, excuse me. Someone’s got ants in her pants today… and for your information, I didn’t drop out of college, I’m a certified accountant, thank you very much.”
Cecilia sighs and closes her eyes for a moment. She can’t take her own problems out on anybody else, even if they do make it easy; Bobby can be pretty annoying sometimes. Regardless, it’s no excuse. “Bobby, look,” Cecilia says, turning to him, “I’m sorry. I just have a lot on my mind. I don’t mean to snap at you, and I shouldn’t say things like that.”
“No problem,” Bobby says sympathetically. “Something you want to talk about?”
“Not really… at least not yet. And it’s not just with you, but with anybody.”
“Even Hank?”
Cecilia turns her head away at the mention of her lover’s name. “Yeah, even Hank,” she answers.
“When was the last time you two got to spend some real quality time together, anyway?” Bobby asks. Hank is his best friend, so naturally he’s curious about how his relationship is going.
“I’ve seen him here and there,” Cecilia says, “but… I don’t know. It’s been a while since we actually spent more than five waking minutes together. We’ve just been so busy.”
“For real. I don’t know how you guys do it, I’d go nuts… working all the time. I gotta hand it to you, Cecilia, because you make it look easy.”
Cecilia smiles faintly at the compliment; she always appreciates it when someone recognizes how hard she works. She may make it look easy, as Bobby says, but it’s anything but. Especially nowadays.
“It’s just a matter of knowing your limits and being able to balance everything, I guess,” Cecilia says. “It’s really cut into my time with Hank, though.”
“Well then you guys should do something. Get away for a weekend. Rent a Sybaris pool suite!” Cecilia can’t help but laugh at the idea. “Seriously! It’s got the slide that goes from the bed to the hot tub and everything. How cool is that? Might be too small for Hank, but hey, you can give it a shot…”
“DRAKE! Enough!” Cecilia says, her laughter dying down a bit. “You are too much, you know that? And I’m trying to eat.”
“Glad to amuse you,” Bobby says, pleased with himself. “Seriously, though… you and Hank need to get together and do something… you guys are great together. You really make him happy, you know that? He’s never been this happy with anyone else.”
Cecilia almost wants to cry; she doesn’t want possibly to tear Hank’s heart out. What else can she do, though, if her nightmare becomes a reality… not tell him? That would never work. She doesn’t cry, though… instead, she keeps it together, a skill she’s almost perfected over the years, and reacts graciously towards Bobby’s comment.
“Thank you, I think I needed to hear that,” Cecilia says. “He makes me really happy, too. I’ve never felt what I feel with him with any other guy.”
“Then you need to tell him that,” Bobby says. “So make some plans, okay?”
Cecilia nods in agreement as she takes another sip of her drink. “Okay, Drake,” she says, “I will.”
The Massachusetts Academy
Darkness and bitter cold fill the mansion, giving birth to a haunting, uninviting atmosphere. Once, not too long ago, this was a school, a home to young mutants training in the use of their abilities… not anymore. Now, it seems the very life has been sucked out of the sanctum, leaving behind nothing but ghosts of the past.
There is something here, though. Something alive. More precisely, someone alive.
A young Asian woman in her late teens, dressed in filthy, worn clothes that haven’t been changed in months, wanders the dark hallways of the one-time school. Her eyes have glazed over and her entire face is drooping, indicating a trance-like state. She can barely move; she can’t talk, she can’t even think. Her own mind has been blocked off from her.
The girl lumbers down the hallway, her arms slumped to her sides, as the bottoms of her sagging pants scuff along the carpet underneath her feet. She’s been doing this for what… days? Weeks? Months? She doesn’t even know. She doesn’t know who she is, where she is, what she’s doing here… but if she did have access to her thoughts and memories, she’d know all those things, not to mention the identity of the one responsible for her current predicament.
There is nothing she can do, though, except march through the darkness as more or less a living zombie. She can’t even hope that someone will come for her… that’s been taken from her as well. All the girl named Jubilee can do is walk on, circling the mansion a thousand times over, unaware of her situation, her surroundings, and her very self… until someone comes for her. When they do, though, will it make a difference? Will there even be anything left besides a hollow shell of a person to rescue?
Not if the one responsible for it all has anything to say about it…
Chicago; The Marc
Candles bathe the restaurant in a dim yellow-orange light, and a string quartet plays in the background. As the serving staff move around and wait on their guests, Henry McCoy and Cecilia Reyes sit silently at a window table, staring into each other’s eyes. Hank looks magnificent to Cecilia; his suit is perfectly pressed and the red bowtie is charming, and ever since he transformed into his current lion-esque form, he looks even more distinguished than before. Likewise, Cecilia is radiant as ever, wearing a shimmering gold and black gown; around her neck she has the gold key pendant he gave her, right here at this very spot, over a year ago.
“I’m glad we were both able to tear ourselves away from work for the weekend,” Hank says, smiling the most loving smile he can muster. “I’m surprised the hospital was able to let you go for a couple days.”
“I’m glad we’re here, too. And it was easy to get the time off since I didn’t have any appointments or surgeries scheduled,” Cecilia informs her beau. “What made you suddenly decide to whisk me away to Chicago for the weekend, though?”
“Well,” Hank begins, “I must confess, a little birdy landed on my shoulder and chirped into my ear to remind me I was neglecting you.”
“Would this birdy happen to fly on ice slides?”
“No, this birdy actually is six feet tall and has big white hair.”
“Oh,” Cecilia says, a little stunned as she realizes who Hank is talking about. “Well, whatever works… but Hank, you haven’t neglected me, not at all. I’ve been just as busy as you.”
“I suppose so. I just feel badly. I don’t want you to think that my love for you has diminished.”
“I know it hasn’t,” Cecilia says. She reaches across the table and places her right hand on top of one of Hank’s blue-furred paws. “The same goes for me. I love you more than ever, Hank.”
It’s time; Hank knows that right now, it’s time for him to ask the question he’s been waiting to ask the right woman for so long. He reaches inside his jacket and pulls out a small black box. Cecilia’s eyes widen and start to fill with tears, as she has one guess as to what’s about to happen. “Wait, Hank… don’t do anything…”
“Cecilia.” He says her name as he attempts to open the box, but finds it a bit hard at first; his fingers aren’t quite so dexterous in this new form. “It just feels right to ask you. I’ll completely understand if you say no… but Cecilia Reyes…”
Hank finally gets the box open to reveal a rather large, sparkling diamond ring. Cecilia gasps softly as Hank finishes, “Will you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?”
Cecilia looks at the ring for a moment, then moves her eyes up to Hank’s face. She can see how much he wants this, how much he wants her in his life forever… and it breaks her heart. She wants nothing more than to shout “YES!” at the top of her lungs and kiss her man passionately, but how can she… when she may not even make it to the altar?
After a couple moments of getting no response other than the tears streaming down Cecilia’s face, Hank asks, “Is something wrong? I’m sorry… maybe this wasn’t a good idea… maybe it’s too much.”
“Oh, Hank,” Cecilia says between soft sobs, “you don’t know how much I want to marry you. Nothing would make me happier! But I can’t hurt you like that.”
Hank eyes Cecilia, concerned and confused. “Hurt me? Cecilia… what’s wrong? Something’s bothering you, I can tell. I vaguely noticed it earlier, but now it’s all too evident.”
“Hank,” Cecilia says, “I’m sick.”
“Sick in what way?”
She swallows back a lump in her throat and begins explaining. “When I was at the hospital a few days ago, I had some tests done. I had an MRI, I had blood work done, I had bone scans done… I got the results back yesterday, and everything’s conclusive. The worst thing is… it wasn’t caught early enough.”
Hank can feel his heart beating ten times faster as Cecilia’s words sink in. He knows exactly where this is headed, and he can’t stand it.
Cecilia can feel her stomach turning as she struggles to get out the last words. Never in her life would she have thought she’d be saying these three words… but it’s reality, and now she has to tell the man that she loves. More than anyone, he deserves to know.
“Hank… I have cancer.”
This isn’t something that I just decided to do because I thought it’d be cool. I mulled over whether I should do it or not, whether I’m capable enough to do it right, and in the end I decided that I think I am. At least, I hope I am. I’m happy with how this issue turned out, and I’ve thought out very much how I’m going to progress the story, and in the end, if I play my cards right, I think it will have been a powerful and relevant story. While it’s not going to be the main focus of the series, it’s not going to be something that’s taken lightly or not paid much attention to; cancer is no joke and I do not intend to make a spectacle of it.
With that said, the next issue is the first part of a two-part storyarc titled Dangerous Minds. It will serve to bring a couple more characters onto the canvas (as if there aren’t enough already!) as well as finally get the ball rolling… I know this issue and the last have more or less been set-up, and the next one may sort of feel that way as well, but let me tell you, come February, the real action begins.
So I think that’s all for now… I hope you all enjoyed this issue, please let me know what you think. Until next time!
~Ryan
01/22/03
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