"Descent of the Phoenix"
By Wicked-Wytch

Disclaimer: I don't own X-men- cartoons, movies, or comics. But I do own my very own Wolverine clone that I created in my labs in the back of my cave whose sole use is for my own entertainment. ^_^) hehehe

Note: This contains a lot of spoilers, so if you don't want to know what happened in X2 this is your last chace to turn around. Otherwise, enjoy.
After seeing the movie, I just had to do this. I had a few things that left me mad and some things that left my imagination going wild.

Please...please review.

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It haunted him in the middle of the night. When there were no lights and darkness prevailed, all he could think about was her. He could remember her perfectly. The way her voice sounded and how she laughed. Her thin body, her bright smile, her red hair. The way she felt in his arms.

Jean.

Scott restlessly struggled with the sheets. Bed didn't feel the same without her. Sleep wasn't nearly as peaceful. He rose, unable to toss or turn anymore. In his boxers, he headed over to the window. It was such a pretty night. The moon was large and bright and the stars blanketed the rest of the sky.

But it seemed dull without her.

He sighed heavily and placed one hand against the cool window pane. The hole in his heart seemed to grow larger by the day. Everyone told him, over and over, that she was dead. Sometimes he believed them.

But other times, he didn't. Some strange voice in the back of his head always reminded him not to give up hope. Sometimes he simply convinced himself that she was just away for a little while. And sometimes he actually believed it.

And then there was the voice. Every few days, in the dark of the night, he heard the soft cry. It was a delicatley feminine voice that called for help. Jean's voice. Calling out his name. Scott told himself that it was just a figment of his imagination. Just something his mind created to give him some shred of hope. But he believed it. There was something about the voice, something that made it real.

Scott bent his head and closed his eyes. In the deep dark of the night, he prayed that his love return to him.

~~~~~~~

Logan walked restlessly through the halls with one thought on his mind: beer. It was sometime past midnight and he hadn't been able to rest. Maybe some alcohol could do the trick. He wore a white muscle shirt and dark, loose pants and his hair was, as usual, unruly.

On his way to the kitchen, he passed the sitting room of the Xavier Institute. He paused as he realized that there were two people in there. Ever since the government raid of the school, Logan had been very cautious of who was in the house at night. As he quietly stalked his way over, he heard a soft giggle. Logan could identify the voice- surely it was Rogue and Bobby was with her.

With a heavy sigh, he continued on his way, deciding to not disturb the two.

A few steps away from the kitchen, he realized he wasn't going to be drinking alone.

"Dammit," Logan muttered to himself. The man took a few cautious steps into the room, checking to see who was there.

"Hello, Logan," Kurt said with a wave. Ororo sat beside him. It appeared as though they were sharing a soda.

"Hey," Logan responded uneasily, quickly reaching over to a high cupboard that he'd claimed as his own and pulling out a beer. As soon was this was done, he did an about face and made his way out of the room, only giving them a muffled, "Night."

In the kitchen, Kurt looked at Storm in curiosity.

"Why was he in such a hurry?"

"Oh, don't pay any attention to him," even though she said this in a carefree tone, there was a troubled look in the woman's eye.

"What are you worried about?" Kurt kept his gaze on Ororo, he wouldn't let her off the hook easily.

"Well..." Storm paused before continuing, "Things have been different... since Jean..."

"Yes. Loss is very hard for some."

"I'm worried about the both of them- Logan and Scott. Neither of them have been dealing with it well."

"What can you expect?" Kurt's words were heavily accented because he was speaking quickly. "They lost the woman they love." Ororo could not respond to this, she only bowed her head slightly and sighed. "Do not be sad for her," Kurt said suddenly, placing a blue hand on Ororo's face. She closed her eyes and enjoyed his gentle touch, "She is with the angels."

Ororo smiled. "I hope so."

Kurt took a sip of the Pepsi and put his hand on Storm's shoulder. He gave her a comforting smile and she could not help but grin back.

~~~~~~~
Logan paced across his room, drinking with fervor.

*It feels like a freaking lover's lane here,* he thought to himself. *Everybody's got somebody except...*

Logan closed his eyes as his thoughts settled on Jean. She had been so beautiful... so warm... so kind. But she hadn't been his. Before her death, Jean had made sure to get the point across that she loved Scott. Her feelings for Logan were simply in reaction to his 'bad boy'-ness. It filled him with anger thinking about it. Without even controlling it, his adamantium claws were fully extended, waiting to be used.

But Logan held back. Because in his heart he knew that a part of her had loved him, truely loved him in ways that she could not express to Scott. There'd been a special place in her heart just for him. And that's what kept Logan in control of himself night after restless night.

He missed her and he was hurting, but refused to let it show. Everyone, at one time or another, had tried to talk to him, get him to open up. But he shut down, walked away, or just acted like a prick until they went away. And as he'd told the professor shortly after the funeral: he could talk about anything, just not her.

The beer was finished and Logan placed the empty bottle on his floor. He wanted more but didn't dare go back downstairs. All he needed was a faith talk from the blue fuzzy dude. Or interrupt Bobby and Rogue and have those awful moments of embarrassed silence. No, he wouldn't go downstairs.

He'd go out for the night. Nothing could cure restlessness like Scott's bike. Logan walked to his dresser and pulled out a shirt. Then he put on his boots.

He smiled. A night away from the mutant school would do him good.
~~~~~~~
(Somewhere up in Canada)
Trapped in a watery prison, the Phoenix struggled to be free. Everything was new to her and her thoughts were a jumble of names and faces. It was all blurry. She needed to be free.

She felt the fire encase her, surround her, protect her. She was escaping from the water. Needed to get out. She broke free quickly, reaching the surface and for the first time taking a deep breath.

All she wanted now was to find somewhere safe. She needed to learn.

There was a voice in the back of her head. But she could not understand what it meant. It seemed frightened and panicked and it just cried one word over and over. "Scott."
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Thanks so much for reading. Please review if you like and I'll continue.

'Til then
~Wicked