Scott yawned sleepily and shifted in his bed. He could hear the wind blowing loudly outside, the branches of trees rustling; he could hear owls crying out as the soared through the night sky. In his head, he could hear nothing, feel nothing. He was alone.
The young teacher's eyes were shut, his body relaxed but his mind was racing. He was still half sifting through check lists in his head of all the damages that needed repairing, of students who needed counselling, of parents to contact and people to phone.
His head felt almost numb; fit to burst with information and yet without Jean's steady, loving presence, it felt empty. The pain was beginning to make itself known again; the worst part of trying to sleep. Whenever he tried to settle, his mind would seek out the connection it had received so many years ago. It was frustrating, but it was life.
'Ro had been trying to talk to him and convince him to actually get back to teaching the students, but it wouldn't work. Watching the face stare up at him, some blank, some pitying, some hopeful; it turned his stomach. It left him feeling weak.
Scott felt a sharp stab of pain in his head, causing him to clench his eyes tighter shut. His mind had brushed past a telepath's; the professor believed that the connection between himself and Jean had been violently cut when she died. The problem for Scott was that it left his mind open; like a tunnel that had been blown open, leaving it free for any passing telepath to enter.
Professor Xavier was trying to help, trying to sooth the edge and coax them shut. Apparently it was a slow process. He turned over, flipping his pillow and resting his cheek on the cool side.
The general ache of his mind's search was increasing, as it always did. Soon it would start to ebb away and he would sleep. It was the same, every night. At least, it was the same most nights. Some nights he lay awake for hours and hours, his head unable to settle and begin its search.
He curled tighter and brought his hands up to the sides of his face, a familiar burn in his eyes as his tears forced their way past the fire in his eyes and down his cheeks. More careful breaths and it began to wane. He pressed his face into the pillow and let out a soft groan of relief.
Logan was on a hunt. His stomach was aching and he couldn't find anything he wanted. He had stared blankly into the fridge before moving over to the cupboards. Nothing... there was nothing he wanted to eat.
The man ran his fingers through his hair as he tried to decide, before grabbing his cup of coffee and leaving. He'd find something later. There seemed to be nothing but cookies, bags of crisps and a few cereal boxes in this school.
He made his way down to the bottom end of the estate, where the greenhouses were being rebuilt. It was the students who had decided to do most of the work, volunteering their different abilities to do whatever they could to help. 'Ro and Cyclops were the ones who figured out who needed to be where.
Logan just mixed about, helping where ever he was wanted and he often ran into Kurt, who had had the same idea. His animated friend was taking the place of pulley systems; he transported the different materials up to the students. Wood, glass, nails, bolts, tools... anything.
The man set his cup down and began to work on cutting beams along the clearly marked lines, adjusting them to the correct size for use. It was a fairly dull task, but it felt somewhat reminiscent of his old job as a lumberjack. The smell of trees, the sawdust...
He listened to both the radio that was playing in the background and the students who managed to argue about everything while they worked. It was comfortable and he didn't look up until a mug was placed in front of him. The hand holding it was attached to Marie; a smirk gracing her features.
"Thought you'd want a hot one."
"Eh? Thanks..." A glance at his watch told him he'd been working nearly 2 hours. His untouched coffee cup sat on the ground, sawdust flecked over the surface of the liquid.
"How you doin'?" The girl sat herself next to him, uncaring of the dirt that she would gather on her jeans as she watched him curiously.
" 'm not so bad." He took a sip and noticed her looking expectantly at him. "You?"
"I'm so tired. There is nothing I can do to help. Everyone else can do something. You carve, Bobby holds things in place with his ice, and Peter picks up and moves anything. Kurt is helping; Miss Munroe is keeping it dry while we work... And I make drinks... Feel a little useless."
She had wanted to talk. And she was looking to him for answers. He didn't really know what to say. He knew he was a man of few words, even though he always tried to make the words he spoke count.
"You're not useless. And drinks are important. Can't have people dehydrated. Go tell Cyke if you wanna do something else though."
She released a weary sigh and said nothing, just gazed blankly at the liquid inside her own mug. He waited a few minutes to see what she'd d, but when the girl didn't move, Logan returned to his work.
"Would you talk to Mr Summers?"
"Huh?"
"He looks awful, like he'll drop if he stops moving for a moment."
"We're not friends, kid."
"Well, he isn't talkin' to his own friends. Logan!" she was pleading with him, her eyes wide.
He sighed, and gave a nod. It wasn't really his business if the kid couldn't cope with Jean's death, but if it was upsetting his students this much, someone should.
"Cyke?"
The kid really did look bad. He was pale, and thin. It wouldn't surprise Logan if there were bags under his eyes.
"What?"
He mind went blank as he stared at the kid. Beyond 'look after yourself' he didn't know what to say. He did know better than to say that in particular though, Scott's pride would cause him problems.
"Marie wants to do something more than making drinks." He'd just have to find somewhere to fit it in; it was a shame small talk wasn't his area of expertise.
"Ok..." The kid turned and began to walk off, so Logan followed him. He could feel the irritation coming off Scott in waves, but ignored it.
"Lunch time now, Cyke. No good going to your office."
"What? Well, I have stuff to do."
"Tough."
He grabbed Cyke's elbow and directed him to the cafeteria. It took a moment but with a tired sigh, the other man went with him. They both grabbed a tray, placing on it a drink and a sandwich before finding a table next to some of the other staff.
Logan took a bite before looking up at Cyke, who was pulling his sandwich apart, barely managing any interest in his food.
"We ain't leaving till you've eaten."
Logan felt as if the kid's eyes were burning into him but with slight nod, followed by a scowl Scott picked his food up and took a bite. Watching the kid, he wanted to ask how he was doing, but he waited. He'd leave distractions till Scott was done eating.
It was on their way to the staff room that Logan managed to spit it out.
"How've you been, Slim?"
"Fine."
"Yeah, right. That's a lie when I can see how tired you are, bub."
Scott stopped and turned to look at him. "I am tired. I guess even you can tell that. It's just... it's none of your business. I can talk to the Professor if I want to talk."
The kid's pride had flared up; it had only been a matter of time. Logan sighed as he watched the kid storm off. Marie would be disappointed they hadn't spoken properly, but the man hoped he'd given the young teacher something of a kick. He needed to get his act together, even if he was still grieving.
Scott lay in his bed, his glasses still covering his eyes. Night had fallen and the grounds had returned to the familiar soft noises flitting through it. He'd had a hot bath and done his best to relax his mind. He'd gotten through as many of his jobs as he could. Maybe if he could get things off his mind he could sleep.
Sleep was important. He would not accept being cornered by Logan about it again. His mind began to search and he experienced the growth of his usual pain.
Another day dawned and Scott crawled out of bed. He'd felt something different last night. He'd felt Jean. He had to go find her. The water... she couldn't have survived...
He fell into his old routine; dress, toilet, shave, eat, clean teeth and go. It was the final part of this that made him run into Logan. The man made attempts at conversation again, but Scott had no time for it. His girl was waiting for him.
Logan frowned as the kid left. He'd barely said anything, just a lab at his mutation... Scott had missed a danger room session and then failed to have a proper go at him.
Logan followed him out to the bikes and watched as he left. A quick decision saw Logan mount his own bike and shout at some kids to tell the professor he was going out for a while.
It didn't take any effort to catch the other up. Logan hung slightly back, trying to follow him without seeming like it but it didn't take long to figure out where they were going. He over took Scott and kept going in the direction of Alkali Lake. Hopefully the young man wouldn't change his mind.
When he got there he scowled. There was plenty of time till he estimated Scott would get here. About an hour if he stuck to the speed limits.
Logan went down to the water's edge and sat down. Staring out at the rippling surface his mind wandered. He didn't know why he was here. He held a strong interest in the kid, but that it had come this far was ridiculous. He had better stuff to do.
He tried to skim a stone over the water as he debated whether or not to leave. Instead, he chose to go for a walk. The place was actually beautiful; place where Jean died or not. The trees tall and the flowers were starting to bud. Spring had started, with new life cropping up all over the place.
The mutant lay back in the grass enjoying the wind blowing softly over his face. His fingers were still cold, the last dregs of winter hanging on in the cold air, but the sun was nice. He relaxed, shutting his eyes.
It was a loud yelp that made him sit up. He looked around and noticed a strange glimmer through the trees, where he'd been sat by the water earlier. He hurried back.
It was not something he'd expected. Before him stood Jean, her arms wrapped around the neck of Scott as she melded her mouth with his. Yet, it wasn't Jean. Her skin was too pale; her hair too red; her open eyes too dark and the expression too harsh. He let out a yell, but she shut her eyes and returned her focus to kissing the man. Except, he watched Scott's legs buckle and he crumbled. He watched the skin of Scott's face pull off, as though it were nothing more than sand.
Jean stood tall; her arms open wide as she pulled the dust towards her. Logan let out a yell and ran at her. He wasn't sure what was happening, or what to do. But he threw himself at her. She dodged smoothly, almost as though she had floated away, and then walked off into the trees.
Logan's attention turned to Scott before she had even left his sight. The kid lay on the ground, curled into a tight ball. He wasn't moving.
"Scott?" Logan knelt down beside him. He wasn't wearing his glasses, the sight of Scott's bare face was strange, and Logan faltered in his attempt to get the kid up. He looked around to see if he could spot where the ruby-quartz glinted in the sun. A glimmer of red, and Logan went to get it.
He turned around and froze. The kid was sat with his eyes wide open. Blue irises moving around rapidly as he took in everything.
"Wha-...? Scott?"
He made his way back over, shoving the glasses into his jacket pocket. Crouching down, he watched all the emotions flit over the young man's face.
"C'mon Slim. Let's get back."
He grasped the kid's arm and pulled him up, holding his other arm as well when he swayed.
"You ok?"
"I can... see... colour. Logan... But, I can't remember which colours are which. I know your hair is either brown or blonde, but I don't know which. Surely, the sky is blue and the grass is green, but... red. It's the only colour I really know. There is so little red..."
Scott's face was pale and he seemed weak with shock. Logan sat him down before he fainted.
"You ok?" he repeated.
"..." His mouth moved but no words came out. He tried again. "I don't know... Maybe? I don't think that's Jean though."
He hadn't thought so; so very similar, but not quite right. He decided they'd sit for a while. The kid wasn't moving and they had both arrived on motorbikes. It'd be no good if Cyke blacked out while riding.
Remember, I don't own X-Men, nor do I own the actors. T.T and I wouldn't need a job if I made money off this.