Title: Letting Go
Author: IndigoNight
Summary: Scott, unable to forget his dead love, returns to the place of her death, but what he finds there is something entirely unsuspected.
Feedback: Yes please, yay reviews!
Pairing: ScottxLogan
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men or the characters I'm just borrowing them for fun.
Spoilers: Yes, for X2 and some of X3
Rating: PG for nudity.
Warnings: Slash, don't like, don't read.
Author's Note: So, basically, this is like the beginning of X3, only Phoenix didn't kill Scott, and Storm didn't go with Logan to Alkali Lake to find him, and things go a little differently from there. Yes, it seems like this is rather random, but where it came from is Rayne and I were watching X3 the other day, and it got to that part, and Rayne was like, "Logan should have found Scott naked" (Which is random), so I was like sure, and he told me to write a fic for it, so I did. And here it is. So, please review!
Enjoy!
Logan was on his way upstairs when Storm suddenly came rushing passed him in the opposite direction.
"Hey!" he protested at nearly being knocked down, "Where's the fire?"
She only said one word as she ran, "Scott."
"What about him?" Logan insisted, but she didn't answer, so half out of curiosity, half boredom, he followed her.
She skidded to a halt in the Professor's office. "I can't find him anywhere," she reported, panting slightly.
Logan halted in the doorway, his hands thrust into his pockets as he watched them.
"Neither can I," replied the Professor gravely.
"Well, what now, where can he be?" Storm's usual calm seemed somewhat shattered.
Logan could have laughed, "I don't know what you guys are so freaked out about," he said, "Scott's a big boy, he can take care of himself. I saw him heading off some place on his bike a while ago."
"Where?" Storm asked quickly, "Where was he going?"
Logan shrugged, "Didn't ask, didn't really care."
"Something has happened to him," the Professor said, his calm not at all ruffled, although his voice was a bit more grave than usual, "A few minutes ago I felt an odd fluctuation, then he disappeared. I cannot find him using my telepathy."
"And… that's bad," Logan surmised. Both Storm and the Professor nodded. Logan thought back to the last time he had seen Scott, the argument they had had, and then it dawned on him. "I think I know where he is," Logan said, already turning to leave.
"Where?" Storm started to follow him.
"Stay here," Logan said, "I'll go check it out." He didn't give them time to argue before he was gone.
8
Logan dismounted his bike at Alkali Lake with caution, slightly unnerved by the thick mist. As he approached the water the mist cleared somewhat and he was able to see the debris floating in the air.
Among the debris he saw a pair of sunglasses. So he had been right, this was where Scott had gone. But where was Scott now?
He took the glasses, tucking them into the pocket of his jacket for now and continued his cautious exploration.
There, on an outcropping of rock over the water, he saw through the mist what looked like a body.
"Scott?" he called, hurrying over. Sure enough, it was the other mutant. As Logan knelt beside him Scott stirred, groaning slightly as he slowly reentered consciousness.
"Here, don't open your eyes yet," Logan told him, pulling out the glasses and helping Scott put them back on.
Scott sat up slowly, blinking around in confusion. He tried to stand, but stumbled back and Logan caught, supporting him so that he could remain on his feet.
"What happened?" Logan asked, but Scott wasn't listening to him.
Scott stumbled forward, towards the lake, mumbling absently to himself. "Where'd she go?" he whispered, staring wildly around.
"Who?" Logan asked.
"Jean," Scott shot back, still searching desperately for her.
"Scott? Jean's dead," Logan said, his voice clearly questioning Scott's sanity.
"I know!" Scott retorted, "But I saw her, she was here."
"Well," Logan was now calmly trying to placate Scott, "Maybe, but she's gone now, and where ever she went, she took your clothes with her."
"What?" Logan had finally got Scott's full attention now. Scott apparently, hadn't yet noticed that for some reason he was completely naked he'd been so intent on finding Jean. "How the hell did that happen?" he demanded, reflexively covering himself.
Logan suppressed a chuckle, "Like I know," he said.
Scott stumbled, putting a hand to his head and he reeled. Logan caught him again, no longer laughing.
"Now, sit down before you hurt yourself," Logan said gruffly, easing Scott to the ground. With that Logan returned to where he had parked his bike and rolled it over. Pulling a blanket out of the saddlebag he through it at Scott. Scott caught it and wrapped it around himself.
"Its getting late, so we'll stay here 'til morning," Logan told him, "You need rest anyway, you look like hell."
Scott didn't reply. He still seemed pretty out of it, staring blankly out over the water. Logan watched him out of the corner of his eye as he stared a fire and pulled a pack of beef jerky out of his saddlebag, along with a few more blankets.
He offered Scott some jerky, but the other mutant didn't even seem to notice.
Logan wasn't about to drop the subject of what had happened, but decided to let it rest for the time being, chances where Scott would start talking on his own eventually.
So they sat in silence, Scott hardly seeming to be aware of where he was.
"I don't really know what happened," Scott said at last, his voice was soft and he wasn't looking at Logan. "I'm not even really sure why I came here in the first place, it was like something was calling me or something. Once I got here it became stronger, I could almost hear her voice, calling me. Then she came."
Logan waited, frowning.
"There was light all around her, for a second I thought I'd died and she was an angel or something," Scott continued, his voice distant as he remembered, "When I saw her, all rational thought disappeared. I knew she was dead, I knew it couldn't be really, but she looked real, she felt real. I kissed her and then… then…" He trailed off.
"What?" Logan prompted.
"Nothing," he shook his head, "I blacked out I guess."
Silence fell once more, as each trailed off into their own thoughts.
"Jean?" Logan asked softly, momentarily breaking the silence.
Scott nodded. Scott glanced over at Logan, seeing his brooding look. He knew that look, because that look reflected the exact thoughts he himself was battling with. "I wasn't really her thought," he said at last. He had been thinking the words, thinking them, dwelling on them, questioning them. He hadn't been sure he really believed them until they left his mouth. But as soon as they did, he knew that they were true.
Logan looked questioningly at him.
"I know what you're thinking," Scott told him, "But it wasn't really her. It looked like her, sounded like her, felt like her. But she's dead. And whatever that was I saw, it wasn't Jean." Scott's voice trembled just a bit as he spoke, but it wasn't, as he'd thought it would be, grief for Jean, it was something else, a new realization.
Logan stood and began to pace around restlessly. Suddenly he stopped, staring at something on the sandy ground. "But it was real," he said softly, pointing. There was a single, clearly defined footprint that was far too small to be either his or Scott's. "Maybe it wasn't Jean, but it was something real. Which means she's still around here someplace," an excited light filled Logan's eyes as he stared around, almost as though he expected her to just step out from behind a rock and say, "surprise, here I am."
"You stay here," Logan told Scott, already getting ready to leave, "You'll be fine. Your bike's over there," Logan pointed absently, "Rest, then get back to the Institute before Storm hurts herself." But Logan's stopped in his tracks as Scott called after him
"Don't go."
Logan turned around. Scott's tone surprised him. He would have expected Scott to insist on coming or something, but this was entirely different.
Scott remained on the ground, huddled in his blanket, still facing toward the lake. His voice was small, and Logan now saw that he was shaking slightly.
"What is it? What's wrong?" Logan asked.
"Don't leave me," Scott whispered, "Please."
Logan came back, staring oddly at Scott, who wouldn't meet his eyes. Scott said nothing more, and made no response to Logan's questions, so, at a loss for what else to do, Logan sat back down and returned to brooding in silence.
Scott remained where he was, still seemingly completely out of it and unaware of his surroundings. However, in reality he was electrically aware of the other mutant near him. He thought back over all that had happened since he first met Logan. He had started out being cautious of the other mutant, then jealously protective of Jean, then, as irrational as it was, blaming him for Jean's death. But now he no longer felt any of that. As he sat there, staring out over the lake where the woman he'd loved had died, he realized that in the past few hours something had happened that he had been struggling with for months. He had finally let go of Jean, and he had moved on.
He cast a sidelong glance at Logan, whose thoughts were obviously still with Jean. "There's no point in holding on to her," Scott said quietly.
"You're a fine one to talk," Logan replied gruffly.
"Nothing can bring her back."
"I know."
"It's time to move on." Scott's heart was pounding. Things were moving so fast now, just a few hours ago he had still been hung up over Jean, now the things he was planning on saying… he couldn't believe he was actually going to do it.
Logan looked up, an odd look in his eyes, almost as though he knew exactly what Scott was thinking. "I suppose it is," he said quietly. He moved slowly, steadily, as though he was still asking himself why he was moving at all. But move he did. He stood, crossing to the other side of the small campfire, and leaning down over Scott.
Scott stared up at him as they both searched each other's face, wondering at this sudden change of events.
Then, both moving at the same time, Scott let go of the blanket, reaching to towards Logan as Logan leaned further down, and their lips met.
It was not the rough, desperate embrace of grief, but instead the smooth, gentle movement of two men ready to live again.
