Goodnight,
My Love
Author's note: Uh, this one's a little cheesy, especially the
title so if you got a better one just send it to me and I'll consider it. This
has been on my clipboard for a while and I finally got off my ass and finished
it, so if the mood seems a little out of place, it was written when we were all
still in school and I was sorta depressed. 'Nuff said, now enjoy…
*~*~*~*~*~*
It was an ordinary mission, no different in execution than hundreds of
others… Except that it was.
Everything was done; the members of the Brotherhood were apprehended,
the world was safe again, the fight over… But when Storm began to radio to
everyone, requesting that they check in and report their status, someone didn't
responded.
*~*~*~*~*~*
One
Month Later…
He accompanied Jean to the grave sight, but upon reaching it, hung back,
giving her the semblance of privacy. He stared at her from the corner of his
eye and watched as she got down on her knees, sitting back on her calves in the
faint snow. She began crying almost immediately.
He took a few steps closer, standing adjacent from her, at the next headstone.
He could barely stand to look at her, her body shaking violently from her
cries. He felt he should do something—say something.
"Hey, it's better to have loved and lost, then—"
"How the fuck would you know?!" She cut in angrily.
"I was just—" Logan attempted to back paddle, but Jean refused to hear
it. She turned to him, tears still streaming down her cheeks, a newly found
scowl on her face and said, "I know what 'you were just'…!" She mocked with
hatred.
"You don't love! You're a beast!!!
I tell you what, Logan," She stood up and peered at him aggressively. "You go
off and grow a heart, then fall in
love. And after that leave her. And when you do, come back and tell me 'it is
better to have loved and lost, then to have never loved at all' and I'll
believe you... Then I'll watch you
try to accept it..."
Logan stared grief in the face as she poured all her
anguish fourth at his feet. It was all he could do not to run to her and hold
her until the pain went away.
"I'm sorry..." He whispered as he pivoted on the frostbitten grass and
walked away. She stared blindly at where he had once been and let her tears
serge and fall.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Why did everyone assume he was heartless? That he didn't feel?
Granted, he wasn't usually forthcoming with his emotions but he had
saved Marie. That had to count for something.
He cared for more things than just sex, fighting, and beer.
Unfortunately, one of those things was Jean. She was his love-lost.
She was the woman that he loved and had to leave.
*~*~*~*~*~*
She found him later, sitting in the living room of the mansion. He was
staring at the blackened screen of the television, seemingly unaware of the
fact that it wasn't on. She stepped closer and he picked up on her scent,
turning to her immediately.
She could see the apology forming on his lips and raised a finger to her
own to silence him. She walked quickly to the couch and just stared at him for
what seemed, to Logan, like hours.
"I'm sorry, Logan," He went to speak again and this time it was his lips
that felt the silencing caress of her fingers. "No, Logan, I know that you were
just trying to help," She paused momentarily, feeling the uneasy tightening of
her face and chest. "and it just upset me that you couldn't... I know it's not
your fault; it's no ones fault."
Logan stared at the large transparent bulbs flowing down her cheeks and
gently wiped each away with his thumb. She trembled, not from the caress, but
from the gesture alone.
How long had it been since she was touched like that by any man other
than Scott?
He grabbed for her then, encasing her within his arms. She mimicked the
embrace and settled her head on his shoulder. Her shaking ceased somewhat and
it wasn't long before she resumed speaking.
"At night, when me and Scott were just lying in bed, trying to get to
sleep, I would hear his thoughts... I wouldn't try or anything it would just
sort of flow naturally. I was always so relaxed around him, always so
comfortable... He'd be ragging on you," She laughed a little through her tears
and he could hear the smile in her voice, "thinking about his motorcycle,
planning his next lesson... I miss that..." She said, her grip around his back
tightening.
He knew her tears were falling more rapidly now; he
could feel their wetness against his skin. "...I miss him in my head."
She paused to regain her composure, straightening her
back in a symbolic gesture of strength, and let out a calming sigh. "I still
search for him, when it's late at night and I can't sleep because he's not with
me. I try until my head feels like it will split in two. I've even considered
using Cerebro again." Logan shifted her in his arms and raised a hand to her
head, stroking gently.
"Jean, you know that's dangerous." He whispered,
soothingly. "And Scott's not out there."
She shook harder and her cries suddenly became audible.
It occurred to Logan that in Jean's mind Scott died every day. She hurt as if
it had happened that morning and to hear someone say out loud what she already
knew was true in her heart, broke down her brave facade. And this was the
result.
"I know, but..."
"No, Jean... there aren't any buts..." Her body spasm
involuntarily in his arms and she became completely silent except for her
whimpers.
He leaned back, and pulled her closer, wrapping an arm
around her quivering form. He rocked her gently, whispering calming words into
her ears until her cries subsided, and Logan noticed that her breathing had
turned patterned and rhythmic; she had fallen asleep on his chest.
He carefully gathered her up in his arms and carried
her to her room, placing her gently on the bed before covering her with her
heavy comforter. As he began to walk away she grabbed for him with a grip not
of her own.
"Stay? Please," He turned and eyed the lighted freedom
on the other side of the threshold. If he ran now he could reach it within
seconds.
She was supposed to be his 'love-lost'… Why was she
pulling him back? Why did she want to be found?
She released his wrist slowly and he walked to the door
still unsure of what he would do once he reached it. With the cool jamb
underneath his fingers he was forced to make a decision. Either exit the room
and close the door, and the chapter of Jean, behind him. Or close it now and
stare into the eyes of the woman who would never love him back.
He let out a low growl that exited his lips as a sigh,
as he grabbed the edge of the door and pushed it until it connected with the jamb
next to his other hand.
He stared at the darkened form of the door all the
while knowing-- feeling Jean staring at his back. He turned to her and paced
back to their bed-- to her and Scott's bed. He sat down, his back facing her
and sighed. Her hand brushed his forearm and he looked back at her, her face
still projecting a pain he had neither caused nor could fix. Her eyes pleaded
with him, begging him to do the one thing he had longed to do for so long: lay
down with Jean Grey.
He angled his body a bit and leaned back. Jean had
offered him the comforter, but he had declined to lay that close to her. That
would lead to a death of another kind.
She wrapped her arms around one of his, hugging it, and
placed her head on his shoulder. He looked down at her, seeing her eyes close
immediately. He sighed again, shifting slightly to sink comfortably into the
mattress.
As his eyes closed he thought of himself; the dumb shit
he did, of the motorcycle he would maintain and care for like a child, but
never ride, and of the 'history' lesson he would have to teach to each and
every group of young mutants so that they'd never forget the late X-men team
leader, Scott Summers.
Jean's cheek bunched against his shoulder and he gazed
down to see a sleepy smile on her pale but peaceful face. It was thanks enough.
"You're welcome," He whispered softly as he leaned over
to kiss her forehead.
She'd sleep well tonight with the illusion of Scott at
her side and, for now, that'd be enough for him.
~FINI
