Author's name: Flextronic
Rating: PG
E-mail: AU, or comic and movie if you like
Disclaimer: X-men and all its characters do NOT belong to me. If I had my way, Scott would have always been with Storm.
Summary: An X-men reflects on the effects a death has.
Pairings: Scott/Ororo, Scott/Jean
Lament
You look at him everyday during lunch, when he eats in the cafeteria, which is happening less and less now. Mostly he goes straight to his room. He says he needs to mark papers, prepare notes for his classes.
But everyone knows that those are nothing but lies. He goes to his room to escape from the prying eyes of the students, teachers, everyone in the mansion.
It has always been this way since she died.
Three years ago.
We had won at a terrible cost. He had made the decision to destroy the machine.
And lose her in the process.
She agreed with his decision, of course. She always did the right thing.
Just like him.
You notice everything about him, every action he makes, every word he says. You always have.
You notice every decision he make. You notice how he weights every option, trying to find the best way to complete the mission. You notice how he seems to fade away little by little every time he puts his comrades in danger.
You notice him when his make that fateful decision. You notice his clenched jaw and fist. You notice that he is shaking he head slowly.
You see his eyes behind those red-tinted glasses. You notice how he stares at her, wishing that they was another way.
You notice how he realizes that there is no other way. You notice how his heart breaks when he realizes that there is no other choice.
You notice how he silently mouths "I love you" to her. You notice how she smiled at him and mouthed the words back. You notice how he stood there even after the battle was over, staring at the giant hole where the machine had been moments ago.
You notice how he has changed since then. He rarely speaks now, only when he is teaching. He looks smaller, defeated. He always seemed to be half a beat slower. He spaces out a lot.
He misses her every minute, every second of the day.
You notice how you are jealous of her. A woman who is dead. You notice how you started wishing you were her. You start wondering if he would ever grieve for you as he had grieved for her when you die.
He goes to the garden all the time. He sits by her tomb in the middle of the garden. Sometime he talks to her, but most of the time he just sits there, enjoying her presence. He takes care of all the plants now.
Just the way she used to.
You notice him from your office window. You wonder if you should go down and help him.
But you decided against that. You decided to let him spend time alone with her.
You try to help him. You used to talk to him all the time. He replies you politely, but you can tell that he isn't really listening to what you are saying. Maybe, even worse, he doesn't care anymore.
So you just try to act like nothing is wrong. Not easy when you can read minds. You wave to him every time you see him. He waves back sometimes, but most of the time he just walks right past you. His mind is somewhere else.
He is thinking of her.
So you cry for him because he can't. You grieve for me because he can no longer feel. You tried to tell him everything will be fine, but he doesn't hear you.
So you are reduced to looking at him everyday, reduced to being jealous of a dead woman, because there is nothing else you can do.
And you know deep down in your heart, in a sick, twisted way, your life isn't much better than his.
Fin
P.s: Review, please! It's the only way I can improve