Disclaimer:You know what I own? Nothing. That's right. Nothing. Deal with it.
Author's Note: Yes, I know, Jean isn't really dead. Believe me, I know. But I decided to do this fic from Scott's point of view, because though I know, he doesn't.
I miss you
I miss you so bad
I don't forget you
Oh, it's so sad
The hallways of the Institute seemed so empty without her prescence constantly filling it. Breathing was harder as the air thickened with sorrow and bitter despair. For once, hope seemed useless, a thought unpredictable in that manor. While everywhere else seemed wide and empty, a wound in a once healthy enviroment, his walls semed to close in around him. His breath was shallow and eyes hollow with the pain. If the walls could finally shut him in, this turmoil would end. He no longer had use for tears, for there was nothing left to cry for. He had spent all emotion in the last two days...all for her. All that Scott had left was the poisoned air and his mind pleading with him to pronounce this nightmare nothing more than a dream.
I hope you can hear me
I remember it clearly
The day you slipped away
Was the day I found
It won't be the same
Part of his mind clinged to the hope that she couldn't be dead, that somewhere she could hear his thoughts and somehow she would come back. It was childish, this denial, but it was a last attempt to keep himself sane.
Flashes of that day were burned to the insides of his mind, forcing him to watch again every time he closed his eyes. He avoided sleep, avoided contact with the others, avoided everything.
I didn't get around to kiss you
Goodbye on the hand
I wish that I could see you again
I know that I can't
Even if his mind had not been his own in the last of those hours, his heart clenched when he thought of how he had attacked her. Scott had sworn so long ago to protect her and ended up hurting her. If she had ever wondered...if ever she had thought he didn't love her...
He didn't have a chance to confirm his feelings a final time. She was gone before he could speak, before any of them could prevent it.
I hope you can hear me
I remember it clearly
The day you slipped away
Was the day I found
It won't be the same
"You need to eat, Scott." Storm said gently as he escaped his cell for a few moments, moving in a haze. All of them looked at him in concern. There was nothing to worry about, though. He was fine. He wasn't the one lying under the pressure of the sea's rage.
He felt the piercing stare of the Proffessor on him, watching to see what he would do, whether he would do what was best.
Scott did not sit, merely wandered on, numb and escaping harsh reality for a few more moments with a mumbled, "I'm not hungry."
"Jean wouldn't want you to do this to yourself." The Proffessor reminded him, though the soft voice felt like a shout. His fist flew toward the wall faster than his could stop it, crushing plaster and wood, the grind of his bones against the material his redemption, his release now that the tears would not come. Drawing back his other fist to destroy more of the walls that held him in, he suddenly felt a hand on his wrist, keeping him from the pain he needed to feel.
"Cool it, Bright Eye." Came Logan's gruff voice, though his dark eyes held concern. Scott jerked his wrist away from Logan and stormed from the room, his visor coloring the world a deeper crimson as his emotions spiraled out of control. The sound of his door slamming resonated throughout the Mansion, breaking the uncomfortable silence. He slid to the floor, back relazing against the wood, and closed his eyes against the empty space that pained him.
I've had my wake up
Won't you wake up?
I keep asking why
Why did it have to be her, so young, so soon? Why did she sacrifice herself, when he would have gladly died beside her...it would have been quick...this death was too slow.
It wasn't her time. It wasn't her responsibility to save them. He was the leader. He was responsible for life and death, for everyone on the team, for her life. She had no right to throw her life away...
I can't take it
It wasn't fake
It happened
You passed by
He wanted to drown in a lie, wanted to pretend she would walk through the door at any moment and tell him it had all been a dream, and that he was being stupid...
Please let it all have been a dream...
Now you're gone
Now you're gone
There you go
There you go
Somewhere--I can't bring you back
Now you're gone
Now you're gone
There you go
There you go
Somewhere--You're not coming back.
He couldn't rid himself of the images...watching her be swept away by the pounding tide she had held at bay with such power...how could she stand the power of those waves? How could she have held on for so long? Why couldn't she had held on for a few minutes longer? Why couldn't he save her? Why hadn't she saved herself?
How could he live with himself knowing he stood by and did nothing?
It wasn't your fault. There was nothing you could have done. There was nothing any of us could have done. A calming voice told him, urging him to feel his pain instead of aggravating and ignoring it.
The day you slipped away
Was the day I found
It won't be the same
Jean's dead, Proffessor. It will always be my fault.
I miss you.