Some opening remarks on this story. I think part of writing this story is a healing process for me. It has been a couple of years since I had my own knock on the door in the middle of the night and I often wondered what would happen if it happened to our favorite heroes. The story itself is told from the inside of one person's mind. You won't see any dialogue between characters. I guess you could best describe it as a train of thought, what does the mind think when the body can't speak. One thing I really do want to note though..I haven't keep up with the series for a while, so if the characterizations seem a bit dated, I hope you understand.

Disclaimer: Well, of course you know that I don't own any of these characters and all that yadda.
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It wasn't supposed to happen like this. After everything they had faced, it wasn't supposed to be like this.

There wasn't supposed to be policemen at the door late at night. She had stood beside him in the face of hell itself many times, fought against outstanding odds, and faced a lot of things that humans and mutants have never seen. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

The words ringing in her ears, feeling the presence of Logan and Remy standing beside her, she struggled to keep her emotions under control. She couldn't let her emotions go, to do so might spell disaster for all around her. She stood there, shock coursing through her body, listening as the accident was described, questions being asked by others, answers being given. Her eyes saw his personal effects being handed over, proof that what was being said was true. She felt the emotions and shock overcoming the two men beside her and she wondered what they were feeling from her. Were they feeling anything from her? Was she able to dampen her powers down so much that they couldn't feel her grief building. She could feel the emotions of the police officers. She could feel how much they hated doing this type of duty, how much they hated having to see the faces of the family and friends of the one that fate had so suddenly taken. Did they even know that it wasn't supposed to happen like this?

All of them knew that one day, they might have to deal with the death of another. None of them had expected it to be like this, though. She always knew that there was a chance that one of them would not return. It was a risk that they took doing the things that they do. But to have something so, so accidental happen, well, she had never considered this. Her mind, her soul, her whole being had had no preparation for this. Something had touched her mind while she slept, but it was fleeting. When it woke her, she attributed it to a bad dream, it didn't occur to her to mentally reach out to him to make sure he was okay. What might have happened didn't even occur to her when Logan knocked on their bedroom door. She wasn't sure what was happening, why was he waking her, was there a problem somewhere that they had to deal with immediately? She never expected Logan to say that the police were downstairs and that they needed to talk to her. As many things as they had been through, the sight of the two uniformed officers at the door didn't make sense to her until she heard the words they were speaking. Asking her if she was Mrs. Scott Summers. Saying that they regret to inform her and all the other words. Amazing to even herself, one of the most powerful minds in the known universe and the night's happenings had still taken her by surprise.

Remy closed the door as the policemen left. She felt Logan's strong arm around her waist, as he gently guided her to a sofa in the main room. Small pieces of the conversation swirled around her brain, we regret to inform you, kids drag racing, head on collision, he didn't know what hit him, he never saw it coming, if there is anything we can do, do you want to file charges against the kid who hit him, small phrases that just kept swirling around in her head. She could feel the two men beside her bracing themselves. They had felt her power at one time or another, and they knew that when this hit, the explosion of grief would be great. She could feel the pent up anger of both of them. These are men who are not used to being powerless to change something. She could feel the rage building up in Logan, his desire to slash at things until there was no more rage left. She could feel Remy's desire to start throwing more than his cards. Both of them, though, checked their desires to deal with their own emotions in deference to her. She could feel the safeguards that she had been taught over the years closing over her, trying to hold that mysterious presence in her in check.

She saw Remy move to the liquor cabinet and pour three strong shots of Jack Daniels. He downed one real quick, refilled it, and then handed the others to Logan and her. She sat and played with the crystal glass, swirling the amber liquid around, not being able to bring herself to drink, though. So far no words had been spoken since Remy closed the front door. No words were needed at this point. Just the resounding thought that it wasn't supposed to happen like this.

She felt Logan's weight on the sofa beside her. She felt his arm around her shoulder, offering reassurance and comfort. She leaned against him, wanting him to give her part of his strength to deal with this news, hoping that she would open her eyes and someone would tell her that she had been having another nightmare. Quickly, she opened her eyes and realized that this would not be happening. She was definitely awake and this was not a nightmare to disappear with the morning light. She heard the grandfather clock chime the hour of one and realized that it was actually one in the morning.

She saw Remy kneeling in front of her, taking the crystal glass from her hand before she dropped it. She felt his hand touch her face, looking for reassurances from her that she was still there. He was looking for some kind of sign from her..did she know where she was, what had happened? Had the shock of the news completely closed her mind to everyone and everything? It struck her when she looked in his eyes, as she recognized grief for Scott's death, the sudden overwhelming pain of emotion, the concern for her, the anger at not being able to do anything, and, surprisingly enough, a small glint of fear. Remy had not seen the Phoenix in action at the height of her descent into hell, but he had heard the stories.

Logan sat beside her, not looking at her, not speaking. He didn't have to speak as his body language said more than words could ever express. In the years that he had been at the Mansion, there had been a lot of strife between him and Scott. Most of the strife was not only from the conflict of personalities between two very strong willed men, but a lot of it had centered over this woman sitting beside him. Over the years, Scott and Logan had become like brothers, kind of like the Hatfields and McCoys sometimes, but brothers none the less. She was the reason that Logan had stayed all these years. He felt a bond to this quiet, powerful woman, something in her that was kindred to something in him. He had decided when he first met her that for some reason or another, he was put in this place to protect her. It was kind of strange that Scott had made Logan swear to protect her if something happened to him just a few short weeks ago. She didn't know of that oath, yet. And for the first time, Logan felt he had failed his oath. No, it shouldn't have happened like this.

Where were the tears? Where was the ranting and ripping of hair? Why wasn't she reacting as a normal woman would upon hearing the news that half of her life had just been taken away from her. Why couldn't she speak what her heart was feeling? Why couldn't her mind force her to form words to start dealing with this sudden change in her life? All she could do is picture his face in her mind, remember the feel of his body against hers, remember the day they met, and remember how they were pretty much thrown together to work things out between themselves. They had both been so young and innocent then, many years ago. They had grown up from their teenage years to their adult years together. In the years they had been together, they had dealt with the heights of joy and the depths of despair. And, suddenly, he was gone. They were supposed to grow old together, running this foundation that had been formed by their mentor. And all of the sudden, it was just her. He was no longer there to stand beside her. It wasn't supposed to happen like this.

She watched Remy stand and return to the liquor cabinet. He got the bottle of Jack Daniels and sat it down on the table between him and Logan. She heard snatches of the conversation between them, people have to be notified, people have to be called back to the mansion. Arrangements would have to be made for the funeral. The two men were talking as if she wasn't there. It was almost as if they were planning everything for her. Maybe this was a good thing and she should let them continue. That way, someone else could take everything from her and let her deal with this in her own way. Listening to snatches of their conversation, her mind started to wander back in time. Thousands of pictures of him started flashing across her mind. Pieces of conversations that they had had drifted in and out of the pictures. Memories of their life together, the happiness, sorrow, discussions, arguments..all of it drifted together. And, suddenly, unlike a novel with it's happy ending, the story of their life together was over. Never again would she hear his voice call to her.

She caught herself drifting away and forced herself back into the present. She heard the two men talking about calling the others, letting them know what had happened. And suddenly, her throat started tightening up and she felt the first of many tears start to slide down her cheek. She tried to stop the tears. For some reason or another, she didn't want these two to see her cry. After all, they were warriors, and warriors don't understand tears. She wiped away the tears and willed herself to hold it together for a bit longer. She wanted to wait until she was alone before her true feelings started to surface. She knew these two men would end up being the pillars of strength that she would need to get through the next part of her life, but, all of the sudden, she just wanted to be alone. Quickly she stood and started to walk out of the room. Remy and Logan both got up to follow her, but she stopped them quickly with just a thought. Give me time, she thought. Just give me time to get myself together, please. She left the room and climbed the stairs to her suddenly very lonely room.

No, it wasn't supposed to happen like this.

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The hours flew past in a blur to her mind. Remy and Logan took it upon themselves to handle all the details, making decisions for her, contacting everyone, making the arrangements. They answered the door, the phone, talking to all who had been contacted, leaving her to deal with her emotions and letting her cope with keeping her power in check. They went with her to the funeral home to make the final arrangements and they took it upon themselves to keep her from seeing his body before it was prepared for viewing. She vaguely remembered one of them, Logan she thought, telling her that she didn't want to see Scott like that. That she should keep the last memories that she had of him so alive in her mind. They made the decision that he should be buried in his uniform. They made the decision that the casket should be closed for the main service. They argued with the mortician that he should have his visor on when the casket was closed as it was part of him. All of this passed as a blur around her.

She sat in the main room of the mansion as members of the team returned home at this time of grief. She again heard snatches of conversation around her. She saw people as they bent to whisper their condolences to her. She heard them talking to Logan and Remy, asking how she was holding up under the stress. Minutes past into hours as people came and went. Day moved into evening and someone brought her a plate of food. She didn't even know what was on the plate, but she ate a bit of it anyway. Conversations, remembrances of Scott swirled all around her. Do you remember when? We had so much fun. I remember when he showed me how to. Remember when we did our first mission? She was aware of Logan pacing around the room, watching her, making sure that she ate something. Remy kept coming up to her and rubbing her shoulder, willing her to acknowledge that people were around her and she wasn't alone.

She felt the thoughts from the people around her, the ones that no one wanted to say out loud in her presence. Is she okay? Can she cope with this? Is she going to be able to handle running the school on her own? Is she aware of what is going on around her? Is she listening to us? Has she closed her mind to everything and everyone except her grief? She wanted to answer all of these thoughts and tell everyone that she was okay, but it seemed like such a major effort to do that. She saw, out of the corner of her eye, people whispering their concerns to Logan. He was as concerned as they were. He wasn't going to let anything happen to her. He would protect her. She thought it was funny, in a way, that Logan had assumed a leadership role with this tragedy. But, then again, who was better? He and Remy both were hardened soldiers and both of them knew how to deal with this type situation. She suddenly realized that she was very tired and wanted to sleep. Muttering her excuses, she bade everyone good night and climbed the steps to her lonely room.

Standing in the door of their bedroom, she realized that she couldn't stand it. She couldn't stand smelling his scent on the pillow, on the sheets. Everywhere she looked in this room, something of his stood out. His extra glasses on the night stand. His computer on the desk in the corner with the screensaver of some female country singer floating around on it. She remembered having a running joke with him about that screensaver. When he wasn't looking, or was out of the room, she would change it to some hunky male country singer. That made him so mad to see a picture of Toby Keith instead of Shania Twain. All the memories of him sitting at that computer for so many nights, working on problems came floating back. His stack of CD's sitting there beside the computer. She always knew how serious something was by the music that was playing. If he had the country out, he was into some serious thinking and problem solving. If he was just playing strategy games, out came the old classic heavy metal music. He was the only person she knew that could listen to Johnny Cash one minute, and Billy Idol the next. It brought tears back to her eyes to see the antique canopy bed. Not only the memories of the hours spent with him in that bed, but also finding it. They had been wandering around the state, roaming through little shops and such and just happened to find it. She knew that under all the dust, old layers of paint and grime, this was something truly special. She remembered him trying to figure out how to take it apart so it would fit in the Suburan. When they got back home with it, he took over stripping all the years off of that old bed and found an interesting carving on one of the side rails..the initials CG & CL carved in the middle of a heart. They never knew who the initials were, but it still lent something to the history of the bed. It now stood as a centerpiece of their bedroom, it's white gauze fabric wrapped around the canopy rails and down the posts. It hurt her to realize that she would never lay in that bed, watching him coming to her, again. She bent down to pick up a pair of Levi's off the floor and put them in with the dirty clothes. What was she going to do with all his things?

Standing there, she realized that she couldn't face another night in that room. Too many memories were flooding her mind and she was losing control. She slowly turned, turned off the light, left their room, and closed the door.

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