(no subject)
Title: Eulogy.
Author: Tasha.
Xverse: Movie
Characters: Ensemble.
Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine. They belong to Marvel.
Notes: This was written for the April Picture Challenge. The picture I've chosen is from X1, but the fanfic is set post-X2.
The picture can be found here.
Eulogy
“There’s always something left, but there’s always someone left to finish it.”
That’s something my mother used to say. People come and people go, but no one ever finishes everything they had started. Someone has to pick up where someone else left off; no one picks up their own pieces.
We all thought he was invincible, that he could survive everything. He had lived through personal tragedy and had drawn so many of us out of our own misery. He was a teacher, mentor and confidante of so many. Now, so many mourn his leaving.
“Earth receive an honored guest.”
We buried him yesterday. A private affair with almost no ceremonies. Some of us spoke about him. All attended and tears flowed freely.
“And the seas of pity lie
Locked and frozen in each eye.”
Artie, Kurt, Jean, Bobby,… Eric. Familiar faces stared out from every corner. His friends and his foes, those who loved him best and those who respected him all stood together, their own personal griefs, buried in their joint feeling of loss.
Jean was the first to know of his death. It was a telepathic connection cut off, the same way she had cut off ours when she had been overtaken by the Phoenix. She awoke in the middle of the night and shook me awake, insisting that something was amiss. When e knocked on his door, there was no answer. We forced itopen, to find him lying peacefully in a slumber from which he would never awaken.
“With your unconstraining voice
Still persuade us to rejoice.”
A lawyer, one whom we never even knew existed, contacted us. His will was simple, with no ambiguities. The school was to stay as it was. Jean and I were now in charge of his estate. Responsibility is ours, and it is a burden I wish I could lay down. A frail, wheel-chair ridden man could bare it, but two energetic adults find it too hard… Strange.
“Sing of human unsuccess
In a rapture of distress.”
He gave us a sanctuary from the rejecting suspicions of the people. He made us feel welcome and needed in a world which condemns us to death. Can there ever be another man like him? If a Phoenix can rise from the ashes, then why can’t a teacher?
He gave me all I needed and now, unintentionally, has taken so much of it away. Everyone deals differently: Logan sulks, Ororo evades and Jean cries when she’s alone.
I’ve seen his death report.
Name: Charles Francis Xavier.
Time of Death: 3:27 am.
Cold and impersonal, but smudged by the tears of the doctor who wrote it. She comforts those in need of comfort and doctors the tears and crying hearts of those who come to her, but when we’re isolated in our room, she cries and I comfort.
“In the desserts of the heart
Let the healing fountain start,
In the prison of his days
Teach the free man how to praise.”
I’m trapped in his dream, carrying his message of peaceful co-existence. His eyes could never gaze upon what he so much wanted, maybe the eyes of his surrogate son will. My eyes. The vision of a Cyclops is supposed to see that of a PhD in psychology.
I don’t have the time, nor the will to cry. Maybe someday, when I’ve achieved it all, I’ll reflect back on what a great man he was, but not today. Today I will put on my cleaning apron and whip out my duster, broom and dust-pan and get to work. Someone, after all, has to pick up the pieces.
********************************************************************************
Feedback and constructive criticism are, as always, appreciated.
********************************************************************************
The lines of the poem are from the second two parts of “In Memory of W.B. Yeats,” by Auden, and can be found here.
Author: Tasha.
Xverse: Movie
Characters: Ensemble.
Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine. They belong to Marvel.
Notes: This was written for the April Picture Challenge. The picture I've chosen is from X1, but the fanfic is set post-X2.
The picture can be found here.
Eulogy
“There’s always something left, but there’s always someone left to finish it.”
That’s something my mother used to say. People come and people go, but no one ever finishes everything they had started. Someone has to pick up where someone else left off; no one picks up their own pieces.
We all thought he was invincible, that he could survive everything. He had lived through personal tragedy and had drawn so many of us out of our own misery. He was a teacher, mentor and confidante of so many. Now, so many mourn his leaving.
“Earth receive an honored guest.”
We buried him yesterday. A private affair with almost no ceremonies. Some of us spoke about him. All attended and tears flowed freely.
“And the seas of pity lie
Locked and frozen in each eye.”
Artie, Kurt, Jean, Bobby,… Eric. Familiar faces stared out from every corner. His friends and his foes, those who loved him best and those who respected him all stood together, their own personal griefs, buried in their joint feeling of loss.
Jean was the first to know of his death. It was a telepathic connection cut off, the same way she had cut off ours when she had been overtaken by the Phoenix. She awoke in the middle of the night and shook me awake, insisting that something was amiss. When e knocked on his door, there was no answer. We forced itopen, to find him lying peacefully in a slumber from which he would never awaken.
“With your unconstraining voice
Still persuade us to rejoice.”
A lawyer, one whom we never even knew existed, contacted us. His will was simple, with no ambiguities. The school was to stay as it was. Jean and I were now in charge of his estate. Responsibility is ours, and it is a burden I wish I could lay down. A frail, wheel-chair ridden man could bare it, but two energetic adults find it too hard… Strange.
“Sing of human unsuccess
In a rapture of distress.”
He gave us a sanctuary from the rejecting suspicions of the people. He made us feel welcome and needed in a world which condemns us to death. Can there ever be another man like him? If a Phoenix can rise from the ashes, then why can’t a teacher?
He gave me all I needed and now, unintentionally, has taken so much of it away. Everyone deals differently: Logan sulks, Ororo evades and Jean cries when she’s alone.
I’ve seen his death report.
Name: Charles Francis Xavier.
Time of Death: 3:27 am.
Cold and impersonal, but smudged by the tears of the doctor who wrote it. She comforts those in need of comfort and doctors the tears and crying hearts of those who come to her, but when we’re isolated in our room, she cries and I comfort.
“In the desserts of the heart
Let the healing fountain start,
In the prison of his days
Teach the free man how to praise.”
I’m trapped in his dream, carrying his message of peaceful co-existence. His eyes could never gaze upon what he so much wanted, maybe the eyes of his surrogate son will. My eyes. The vision of a Cyclops is supposed to see that of a PhD in psychology.
I don’t have the time, nor the will to cry. Maybe someday, when I’ve achieved it all, I’ll reflect back on what a great man he was, but not today. Today I will put on my cleaning apron and whip out my duster, broom and dust-pan and get to work. Someone, after all, has to pick up the pieces.
********************************************************************************
Feedback and constructive criticism are, as always, appreciated.
********************************************************************************
The lines of the poem are from the second two parts of “In Memory of W.B. Yeats,” by Auden, and can be found here.