Author: Elizabeth Wilde

Title: "Not Gone"

Series: Driving Force #3

Distribution: Anyone who has my fic, anyone who asks nicely for it,

.net/wilde

Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men, unfortunately. I'd really love to own Scott.

But for now I'm just borrowing them, so don't sue! I also don't own the song "Can't Be Really Gone" by Tim McGraw.

'Ship: none (mention of Jean/Scott)

Classification: angst/vignette

Summary: Scott worries that Jean might not be coming back.

Rating: PG

Spoilers: the movie

I don't know when she'll come back

She must intend to come back...

Just look around the room

So much of her remains...

So, she can't be really gone.

~Tim McGraw "Can't Be Really Gone"

Scott leaned against the pillows propped up on the headboard of the bed and sighed. /She's been gone for three days, locked up in that damn room./ He knew better than to go to her, to try to convince her she belonged back in their room, back with him. /After all, I was the one who took back the damn engagement ring./ The ring sat glistening on her nightstand beside a half-finished book. /She has to come back./

Scott's own half-finished book lay open on his lap, all but forgotten. Any attempt at doing anything but think about Jean failed more often than not. /What if she doesn't come back? If I'm this bad after three days, how would I survive a week? A month?/ The concept of years was too horrible to contemplate.

"She'll come back," he assured the still room. "She has to."

Truthfully, he was less than convinced. /I can't let myself think that way! Why would she stay with me for all these years if she didn't love me?/ He threw the book to the floor in a sudden surge of anger. /Logan wasn't here before. That's the difference. Damn him!/

Scott took a deep breath and closed his eyes. /It's not Logan's fault. I don't see how anyone could keep from falling in love with her. But he didn't have to kiss her. And she didn't have to like it./ Tears threatened again, and he fought them. /Self-pity is a little premature. I hope. God, I hope./

Turning off the light and laying the pillows down again, Scott closed his eyes and prepared for another night of pretending to sleep.