Resurrections – by Darlin

A/N – Perhaps a little uneven but a story I wanted to tell.

-xox-

Prelude – A Glimpse of the Past

Remy LeBeau scratched at the stubble on his neck before reaching for a cigarette. He cupped a hand to prevent the wind off the lake from distinguishing the match he lit. Soon smoke streamed from his nostrils and mouth and he gave a hearty sigh.

The view of the lake and woods, the sun bright sky from where he stood was breathtaking. Sounds of laughter drifted over the water, his team mates cleaning up the remains of their picnic. He had offered to help but Rogue had shooed him off. He'd wanted to stay to try to show her he had some redeeming qualities but she was still angry with him. Now he was glad to be away. The moments respite was refreshing especially after Rogue's continued indifference.

From the other side of the lake keen blue eyes watched the small red glow from Remy's cigarette. Unlike him Logan had tried to escape clean up duties but the women had forced him to chip in. It wasn't that he minded helping out but he was feeling restless, feeling strange even, as if something was about to happen, something important, something he wasn't going to like.

The women were laughing and chiding the men. He enjoyed the lighthearted laughter. The welcomed sound was like able fingers skimming over a piano, music to soothe the savage beast that felt so very near the surface this evening. But he missed one sweet laugh and wondered how long it would be before or if he would ever hear it again. The laughter that had replaced Jean's was off key, harsh and too high, too artificial like the rest of her. Emma. He wondered why she was there, why Scott had brought her along, why Scott had forsaken Jean.

Out of all the members of the team only Scott had not enjoyed the festivities. As always he was ever vigilant, eyes shaded in his ruby quartz visor constantly on the move; too busy watching all to relax. He was the only man who put serious effort in cleaning up, anxious to get his team back behind the safe walls of the mansion. He'd noted Remy from a far obviously in a bad mood and Logan who was surveying the area like a restless animal as he occasionally tossed a paper cup in a trash bag. The others were laughing too much and too loudly except for Ororo whose laughter was almost as fake as Emma's. Emma's sharp laughter dripping in sarcasm made Scott flinch uncomfortably. Jean's soft laughter had always made him smile inwardly. But Jean was gone, the past, forgotten.

"Don't think about her," he commanded himself, his voice a deep hiss though barely audible.

Death came too easily. The X-Men were at play while all his instincts made him want to shout – wake up, be alert, it's not safe! They were too at ease and it bothered him almost to distraction. Emma was like him. She was never too lax. She was just as determined not to lose any one on her watch again. She was his eyes and ears, inside his head always. Intruding, manipulating? That troubled him even more.

"No time for being the fearless leader today," Emma said as she came up behind him snaking her arms around his waist.

Scott had long stopped flinching at her touch though the aroma that wafted from her still startled him. She smelled of chemicals and too much perfume. But her hands were warm on his bare stomach, comforting, and Scott allowed himself to lean back against her, or was he being forced? Sometimes he was never sure with her. Ultimately he believed he was not. But sometimes a small voice in the back of his head ensured him that if he was being forced it was for the greater good and therefore acceptable for how did he know Jean hadn't done the same or the Professor?

The sun set streaked gloriously over the horizon. Wanting to linger and savor the day shared together someone started a fire ignoring Scott's protest. Logan 's nose twitched as the pungent odor of smoke rose. From across the lake Remy snubbed his cigarette against the sole of his boot, the fire a reminder to be careful. Scott started to order them all back but Emma had him still in her grasp – both physically and mentally? He said nothing, did nothing. His eyes closed behind the barrier he was forced to keep between himself and the world. Emma pushed him gently down onto a fallen log, slightly damp from dew. They sat close beside each other heedless of the dampness. He welcomed the feel of another body against his, filling the emptiness inside him at least a little.

As the fire sprung to life, crackling and sparking Hank and Jubilee found long twigs and handed them out. Marshmallows were burnt to a fine black crisp, a few a golden brown. The required graham crackers and Hershey bars were brought out and soon they were feasting on S'mores, that deliciously sticky gooey treat that even Logan enjoyed.

"I think I'll try to find, Remy," Ororo said to no one in particular. Passing up dessert she wandered off.

"Hmmph," Rogue muttered though no one heard her save Logan but he was trailing after Ororo. Scott followed the two with his eyes, ever watchful.

There was still that unwelcome tension in the air that had been so obvious throughout the day and Scott knew it had everything to do with Emma. Despite the fact that she had been with them for years most of the X-Men felt she didn't belong that she was an intruder in their midst, a poor substitute for a dearly beloved friend. Ororo couldn't even stay for S'mores he mused. Kitty didn't try to hide her distaste for Emma either, she'd stared daggers at the woman he'd chosen to spend his life with all day. Logan had been just as unwelcoming eyeing Emma throughout the day as if she were the villain she used to be, ready to strike at any moment.

"Don't let them bother you," Emma whispered in Scott's ear. Her smile was infectious or was it her skill at controlling him – he didn't care, didn't think about it but grinned in return letting her stuff a near perfect golden marshmallow into his mouth.

"Don't let them bother you," Logan murmured when he caught up with Ororo.

"I do not," she replied too firmly.

"You know the Cajun can take care of himself," Logan said switching topics.

"I have never said otherwise."

"So, you just in a mood ta be prickly tanight, darlin'?"

"I suppose I am."

"So, then you want me ta leave ya alone?"

That he had to ask amused her but the look on his face made her laugh outright. It was obvious he didn't want to go just yet.

"Your company is always welcomed my friend. In fact you can be my tracker. I thought I caught Remy's scent on the wind but it's so dark in these woods I can barely see."

"Easy enough," Logan said before raising his head to catch what scents he could. After a moment he grinned and said, "Cajun's on his way back now. We should run inta him in a few. Kid's in a hurry."

"All that you can tell by smell alone," Ororo said marveling over his exceptional ability.

"Sweat, cigarettes an' that hellacious cologne he wears it's all comin' fast right at us."

There was that tinkling stream of unguarded laughter he always enjoyed but seldom heard any more. Earlier it had been hesitant and guarded even artificial but now her shoulders rose and fell freely, her body relaxed and she looked genuinely happy.

They passed like three ships in the bay. She imagined them walking in slow motion pausing only slightly to glance at one another before continuing their separate journeys. Remy wore the half grin half grimace that was so frequent of late as if he were resignedly marching to his doom. He shrugged, determined to face his angry lady love. He grinned silently at Ororo and she returned the smile. What else could she do to ease his anxiety, what to say? There were no magic words to offer up, nothing to settle this constant distance between Remy and Rogue.

For a second she thought he winked and then he trudged on. Hoping to right the unjustifiable wrongs Rogue attributed to him perhaps? When Ororo looked beside her she saw that Logan too was gone. Disappeared like a phantom in the night. His presence had lightened her mood and she'd looked forward to spending some time with him though she hadn't spoken, and now it was too late, both men gone. For a split second she almost felt compelled to return to the gathering but the thought of Scott's disapproving gaze made her stay her course. The evening was over for her.

As expected when Remy returned Scott immediately flashed a reprimanding look in his direction. Remy shrugged it off. It was a pleasant night, the alarms around the perimeter were in place and he was sure they were as safe as they ever were. He could never understand the constant vigilance Scott demanded. Life was about enjoying yourself and that meant accepting that there were risks that you couldn't always avoid no matter how diligent one was. Like Rogue.

Two strides closer and she was off the ground shouting her goodbyes over her shoulder. He watched her shoot up into the air, one arm straight out in front of her, the other clenched in a fist close to her chest as if she were Superman from the movies. Impervious, determined, unrelenting, that was Rogue. She hated him and loved him. He knew that. He wanted to make things right but she wouldn't allow him. He could no longer touch her, wasn't that punishment enough? Why did she have to make him suffer further?

They were like children Scott thought or was that Emma's thought? It had to be Emma's.

"Well, it's true you must admit," Emma said, a smile on her face as her voice wound its way inside Scott's head.

"I don't disagree," Scott replied aloud.

Fighting one moment making up the next and repeating the foolish cycle over and over again, yes just like children. There was nothing appealing about that to him. He and Jean had seldom fought. He and Emma never fought. Why couldn't Remy see it would never work between him and Rogue? Rogue, poor kid, she saw it.

It took Logan only a second to realize it was Rogue shooting through the night like a jet. He felt for her. He liked her a lot. They'd gone through hell and back since she was a newbie in Japan with them. He'd always help her if he could but he knew there was no help he could give that would take the burden of her pain from her.

Why did it always feel like they were going nowhere fast? Not just Remy and Rogue but the X-Men, aimlessly lolling around just waiting for their enemies to strike? That wasn't his way. He missed the old days when they were the hunters but that had been a different crew with him and Ororo in Australia . He wondered for a moment what Gateway was doing then shrugged the thought away. Gateway would be doing what he always did. He wondered where the Phoenix was, how it existed without Jean. Did it miss Jean like he did?

If anything was true in this world Scott knew it was the Phoenix . Eternal. Forever.

"Not now, Emma," he said aloud and with practiced ease blocked his thoughts from her.

Only Jean could have taught him that and he knew Emma knew it. He missed the bond he and Jean had formed. It had been shattered through his betrayal, his fear. He missed Jean. He missed all that could have been and what had been. If he were a lesser man he thought he might break down and weep but what would that look like – the leader of the formidable X-Men bawling like a babe in front of his subordinates?

Pain and tension so thick in the air, was always a constant with the X-Men though most chose to ignore it as they did Emma. They were used to suffering. A new day would come and just as today they would laugh and enjoy each other's company and tease and hurl insults and laugh some more accepting what life gave them. Emma wondered why Scott couldn't be that way. She wondered that men like Scott and Logan were so isolated choosing to keep their feelings bottled up like masochists. So typical.

If hearts could bleed from pain then Rogue's would have been mortally wounded. If she had to go through another fight with Remy she was seriously thinking about slitting her wrists. Or leaving. But leaving wasn't an option. She had no where else to go. After the ordeal with Cody she'd left her family and had been taken under Mystique's wing where along with Irene they had become a family of sorts. After she broke with them hoping to control her powers she'd been with the X-Men ever since despite Mystique's attempts to draw her back. Mystique's love had been the one constant in her life but she couldn't go back to her when their ideals were completely opposite.

She had never been on her own except for the short period when she'd run away after Cody. Even when she left before it was with Bobby. She'd really tried his patience too. Could anyone blame her thought? Was this be her fate, to be so needy and yet unable to receive the physical touch that would sate her, never able to venture out alone to find herself? How could she ever find peace within herself if she could never accept herself and her fate?

Though she didn't want to feel angry with anyone especially Logan , Ororo couldn't help it. There one moment then gone the next and without a word. That was simply how he was and she knew this but it still irked her. She knew he was as lonely as she but he clung to the past that he could remember as if it were a worn out security blanket. Though she knew he had told Jean it could never work between the two and he had even begun to flirt with her again Ororo felt his heart was not in it wholly. Things had to change. She was falling in love but he was playing at having a good time. Her heart was at stake and he had put up nothing.

The emotions of so many conflicted people were too much for Emma to bear for long. It wasn't that she was an empath but that so many extreme emotions made their thoughts a fierce never ending cacophony in her head. Jubilee's were usually hard to read but her excitement from being back with everyone, Logan in particular, was loud and vivid. Betsy, back from the grave, controlled her thoughts far better but the sexual tension Emma felt coming off her was disturbing. Was it that Warren and Paige had shown up together?

And then there was Ororo. Her thoughts were never easy to read but having been Ororo inside her skin harnessing the power that was Ororo Emma knew the weather goddess better than she supposed Ororo could guess. It wasn't necessary to see unrequited love dancing through her brain waves because it was written so plainly on her face and in her every action. It was unrequited love that had hurt Emma the most through out the day whether seen or felt. It was everywhere. Betsy, Warren , Logan , Ororo, Remy, Rogue, Bobby, Kurt, Rachel, Hank and even Scott.

She could feel it like a sledge hammer pounding on her brain as the misery of unrequited love drowned Robert's soul as he tried to tease Jubilee and put thoughts of Lorna from his mind. Henry's was less subtle but still there. Was he over Trish? She didn't linger to find out. Like a thief in the night she stole from mind to mind and in a twisted way enjoyed the tidbits she picked up while hating the necessity of having to do this. Sometimes it was the only way she could control the unrelenting noise. So many thoughts. If she could only categorize them then she felt she had some control over the voices.

She didn't like others to be happy and she didn't enjoy being around happy people because she had so seldom been happy in her life but being amidst these people, her people now, a small part of her desired to fix the poor miserable beings that needed love as much as she did but unlike herself refused to acknowledge their need. Scott wouldn't allow it though and she wasn't sure she could stomach it. Too much love was even worse on a telepath than unrequited love. Unrequited love sunk and faded then was buried away in hopes of forgetting but love fulfilled was primal joy not easily contained and less easy to ignore, like Jubilee, all boundless energy and annoyingly bright colors.

Love had finally been achieved for Emma, as much as she could hope for. She knew Scott cared, that he believed he loved her but she could see his thoughts so clearly that she couldn't deny his love for Jean would never die. Jean was the reason Scott was who he was and why he continued being. Jean was a part of him as Emma would never be. She had accepted this because he had allowed her love him and returned love in a fashion, love that she luxuriated in and needed with every fiber of her soul. But it was also Scott's love that hurt her the most, not having it completely, sharing it, no, not even sharing it, borrowing it for a moment in time, worse she could feel it roaring through him, his love for Jean, as if it were part of him, inseparable.

And with one single move – his mental skills quite remarkable because of Jean – he had pushed her out of his mind. He never did that. Was this little get together the reason? She knew the answer of course. These people Scott was so connected to needed to be kept at a distance. It was no good having so many X-Men under the same roof or even at a picnic like this where their influence as a group swayed stronger than hers. Sometimes she hated the X-Men. More often than not she hated Jean. Every one of these people loved the red head. Every one of them in their own way missed her. Emma knew a few of them even wished it had been her killed in Jean's stead.

As Logan trudged through the woods aimlessly he above all the others, save perhaps Kitty and possibly Ororo in a weak moment, wished Emma dead. He didn't feel like S'mores or company with her around. Alone in the dark humid night who would notice his absence, he thought with no concern.

Back at the campsite he could hear Kitty laughing with Peter. His Pumpkin was all grown up now. Kurt's laughter joined theirs and then so did his daughter T.J. from another future. Everyone had someone in some form or another. Even Bobby had Hank, best friends through thick and thin had each other. Only he and Betsy and Ororo were alone Logan decided.

Why hadn't it been Emma and not Jean? He wished he'd given Jean a chance when she'd turned to him after discovering Emma and Scott were involved. Why hadn't he? Lost and confused over Scott's betrayal with Emma he knew Jean had turned to him in desperation. No, he wouldn't have taken advantage of her like that. He respected Scott – then – enough not to use Jean but some part of him had been eager to refuse her, pleased to know he know longer wanted or needed her.

His thoughts were easily read this night. It would be so easy for Emma to throw Logan a bone. Usually she couldn't pick up much from Logan but the inner turmoil Ororo was feeling made Emma curious, sure Logan was the problem. She didn't mind probing deep; her skill was such he couldn't detect her presence. It was just Logan after all, no one of any importance though it didn't bother her at all to read anyone else's mind. A gentle push in the right direction was all Logan needed, a whisper, a tiny suggestion . . .

"Find her. Go find her, you know you want t," Emma urged knowing he would listen even go to her but would he act? The stupid oaf. What Ororo saw in him she couldn't comprehend.

Find her? Logan looked around curiously. He should find her. He would find her, talk to her, just be with her. He'd find her now, Logan thought. But find who? Not Jean. Jean was dead.

"Ororo," he said and as soon as her name left his lips he knew she was the one he must find. They needed to talk, straighten things out, maybe even plan a future together. He changed directions. Her scent, so unique and luring was easy to track even in the breezy evening.

Watching from the shadows Logan could easily see two figures embracing in the living room they so seldom used. He smelled tears. Rogue crying on Ororo's shoulder. He wished he'd thought to come sooner, wished the Cajun had never come. Remy needed to fix things or leave. He had his hooks in both Rogue and Ororo who were too busy dealing with his games to have time for anyone else.

Logan felt Ororo cared more for Remy than for him. He was so sure of it that Emma's little nudge couldn't stem this belief. He turned away leaving the women to commiserate in peace and because he did nothing all the possibilities of a long future between him and Ororo were never brought to fruition.

The effort had been made though Emma didn't exactly know why she'd gone to the trouble. Perhaps something about Ororo's self sufficiency bothered Emma. Or perhaps the constant ache Ororo carried with her that Emma had felt so strongly mirrored her own pain. In the end Emma told herself she didn't care, she had Scott and was satisfied. Let the others wallow in secret misery she thought deciding to bow out of any further get-togethers. Scott would be relieved as would the others, especially Ororo. Poor Ororo, Emma thought with a touch of pity, she'd never be happy.

The grim prediction didn't give Emma pleasure as one might expect though she didn't live long enough to see if she was right. Neither Logan nor Ororo would ever know she'd made an effort to help them. She was forgotten in death as time drifted slowly like a ship in a lull and even unrequited loves were forgotten.