SilverDragonsFlame - I'm glad you like, this should answer your questions.
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Ch. 8
****
Depression had set in long ago, no one safe from its grasp. Each hollow face a mirror image of the next, but none so despondent as Logan's. Even still each held their own vivid sorrow that couldn't be mistaken or misread.
"What does this mean?" Try as he might, Scott couldn't wrap his mind around what Storm was trying to tell him.
"It means I was right dumbass." Logan quipped, the normal fever in his voice lacking.
"Logan…" Jean groaned out his name as a warning that he tried to take to heart.
Clearing her throat, Storm spoke softly but with purpose. "I was getting nowhere and then Logan had the idea of looking up conspiracy theory sites. That's when I found these." Trembling hands placed three distinct papers on the table before the group. "All of them are anti-mutant groups with nothing else in common except that in the last three years they all committed mass suicide."
"Are you serious?" Shell shocked Jean questioned why anyone would want to voluntarily kill themselves. However educated she had thought herself to be, the harshness of the world outside these walls was at times a mystery to her. She's grown up more then well off, a product of a sheltered and pampered childhood. Scott however knew the answer to her silent question. The majority of his childhood having been spent on the streets, he'd been witness to the deprivation and where it could lead. He understood the want more then his wife and mentally tried to convey that to her, succeeding in merely confusing her more.
"I still don't get what that has to do with this Williams guy." Scott droned.
Letting out a bitter laugh Logan turned to the Professor. "And you made this idiot leader of your little team, why?" It was rhetorical and the Professor didn't bother commenting. Turning back to Scott, Logan growled out, "Let her finish and you might actually learn something."
Scott moved to retort but Jean's mental scolding stopped him. Sending Logan a snide glare he nodded for Storm to continue a small smile of apology lingering on his features. She glanced between the two men before she opened her mouth again.
"Each event fueled the hatred towards mutants, in fact the first mass suicide is what started talk of the Registration Act. Here's where it gets bad, really bad. The man who hosted the site I went too had been vicariously collecting pictures since that first incident. That's when he noticed a reoccurring pattern that he couldn't explain…" Nervously she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and hesitantly laid three more pictures on the table. She clenched a forth in her hand with such force it was a miracle it hadn't torn.
Logan knew why and stayed back as the others leaned in to peer down at the photos before them. A collective gasp filled the air. Scott grabbed at one of the images holding it closer to him as if in doing so the reality it held would evaporate. Logan caught the glance he aimed towards him as Scott realized that he had been wrong all along. In a motion that caught the others off guard Scott slammed the paper onto the desk and bit back a lewd curse. Instead he ground out the one name on everyone's tongue.
"Mystique…"
The Professor echoed Logan, remaining at a distance from the group. He'd known long before the pictures had been placed at the mercy of his makeshift family. His abilities in this instance were nothing more than a nuisance. However calm his exterior was it paled in comparison to the upheaval raging within. A sense of misplaced guilt tried desperately to overwhelm him. Had he seen the true nature of his old friend sooner perhaps lives could have been spared. Now their sacrifice lay heavily on Charles mind.
"Williams to?" Scott asked the unneeded question that Storm never wanted to answer. She nodded and placed the last photo on the table, William's bright yellow eyes glaring up at them.
Uncertain of his ability to control himself Scott pulled back, reverting into himself. Try as he might he simply wasn't able to wrap his mind around why. What could possibly be the purpose of all this? The elaborate scheme was far too twisted for him. Then it dawned on him and a sickening dread filled him. What better way to entice a war between humans and mutants then to create victims of the cause? Storm had said it herself, the Registration Act was a product of it all.
Bowing a solemn head he muttered, "What now?"
"I think it's time someone had a talk with his old friend." Logan snipped, aiming all the frustration, anger and resentment at the man he'd once viewed as a savior for both him and Marie.
Connecting eyes with Logan, Charles felt every last ounce of hatred towards him, drank it in and allowed it to fuel his actions. "I'll make some calls, see if I can't get permission to see him after hours. In the mean time I want you all to try and rest. It's been a long day for all of us."
"Rest?" Logan asked incredulously. "You want us to rest? How the hell do you suppose we manage that when Blue Bitch is out there more then likely in the midst of using Marie's mutation against herself and a group of not so innocent people? Hmm? How? Not all of us are as uncaring and cold hearted as you and ol' one-eye here." Logan was beyond thought, beyond caring himself. Every molecule of anger had reached the boiling point and nothing could stop him now. Not even Jean's hardened glare affected him.
"Logan calm down, we're not the enemy." Xavier's regal tone remained clear
"Sure as hell fooled me. No wonder she's reverted. I don't blame her."
"Fuck you! If you weren't such an arrogant self-centered shit, things never would have taken the turns it did. You wanna place blame? How about looking in the mirror? Cause I sure as hell didn't break her heart and then follow it up with doing a polka dance on the remains!" The confrontation that had been lingering in the distance hit full force between the two dominant men.
"No, you just sat idly by as she became self-destructive and suicidal! I've seen the damn scars Scott! You gonna deny their existence like your denying your part in this?"
"You don't know a damn thing about the hell she's been through! Those scars are nothing! Nothing compared to what healed over because of your ingenious idea to heal her! She'd be dead a thousand times over by now and that is not my fault! Charles'! Storm's! Jean's! Or anyone else's except yours! Yours Logan!"
A raging vein throbbed at the apex of Logan's forehead as he tried to contain himself from letting loose his claws as he connected his fist with Scott's clean shaven face. Jean saw it coming before it happened but it was already to late. Instead of stumbling to the floor in a heap like Logan had expected, Scott simply stumbled a step then shot back with his own damaging swing. It connected soundly, flesh and bones meeting flesh and metal.
Logan's head snapped back with the force of the blow. For a moment neither man moved as a sideways sneer formed on Logan's face. Like a crack of lightning Scott found himself pinned viciously to the wall, two massive burly hands gripping at the sides of his shirt. Blood dripped from the corner of both men's mouths, going unnoticed. They leered at each other, a silent stand off an end no where in site.
Sliding the back of his hand across his face, Scott wiped at the trickling blood and broke the tense silence. "Why the hell did you come back? And if you say for her or for love I will blast a whole clear through your empty skull." A raised hand to his ruby tinted glasses emphasized his true intents, the action tipping Jean's tolerance. With an angered huff she left, shrugging out of Storm's out reached arm. The other woman followed, shaking her head at the childish men on the verge of pulling out a meter stick and measuring their manhood.
"Well I sure as hell didn't come back for your scrawny ass." Logan's sarcastic antagonism returned with a vengeance.
Though his eyes were hidden the curve of Scott's lips gave away his disgust with the man who had him pinned unceremoniously again a wall. "Do you have any idea what you did just by coming back?"
For the slightest of seconds empathy and guilt reigned clear on Logan's face. "I didn't know. How could I have known?"
"It's called a phone, or a postcard for gods sake." Scott's anger subdued a fraction, his energy depleting, his head swimming.
Shoving off the man Logan burrowed his hand in his unruly hair. Scott didn't dare move, his world already tilting to one side.
"She loved you damn-it, god only knows why. You gave her hope and then you tore it away from her."
Shooting Scott a dangerous glare Logan deadpanned, "Think it was one sided? You honestly think it wasn't the same for me? But she was seventeen! Fucking seventeen… an innocent girl and I was… am a dirty old man."
Somewhat shocked it took Scott a moment to formulate a response. "Age? You left because of age? Have you looked at Jean and me? She's 7 years my senior. I used to be one of her students."
"That's different, Jean… she's classy, elegant… and I'm…"
"An animal?" Scott snidely offered. "That never mattered to her and you know it. It only mattered to you and that was enough to send you running, tail firmly set between your legs. Heh, you really are a selfish prick." Pushing off the wall, Scott moved to the sink, turning on the water and gently running his hands under the cool rush of liquid. Grabbing a near by towel he blotted at the blood staining his face and stared at the disheveled man reflected in the mirror. "We tried our best to help her pick up the pieces but you have to realize the only person she wanted to do it was you. She wouldn't accept our offers of help and after this… I'm not so sure she's going to come out of it intact."
Through his ruby tinted view of the world he watched as emotions played across Logan's face. Swiping the last of the blood he turned back to him, a sad smile playing across his face. "I don't envy the task ahead of you but what happened, happened. Get over yourself, you can't change it but you can change how you act in the future. But you hurt her again and I'll make good on my threat." His peace said, Scott tossed the towel on the counter and stalked off.
The stiffness in his back remained a constant all the way up to his room, his sanctuary. The moment the door closed, entombing him inside, his muscles loosened. Haggard and drained he moved to get ready for bed. Soft light washed over the room's surfaces, concealing at first the form perched at the edge of the bed. Noticing Jean's tense figure his arms froze, halting the process of removing his shirt. Letting the material drop he took a step towards the bed.
Never raising her head, Jean snapped, "How's your jaw?"
The sarcasm dripping off her words caught Scott off guard. Cocking his head he though for a moment he'd imagined it. Wrong. Heaving a breath through flared nostrils he spat back, "Don't start with me Jean. Not now, not tonight."
Dubious Jean jerked her head up. "Why shouldn't I Scott? I asked you not to start with Logan and you did."
A gasp of frustrated shock slipped from Scott's pensively drawn lips. "I cannot believe this! You got pissed with me when I wasn't protective enough of Rogue and now you're pissed because I'm too protective? What exactly is it that you want from me Jean? Cause I'm just a little confused right now."
Rising in one elegant and fluid motion she glared at Scott. "This isn't about you Scott, this is about the man you verbally castrated down there, the man whose tearing at the seems because of his guilt and his loss."
"His loss? What about ours? He's the one who left, he gave up the right to care when he walked out that door with little more then a 'see you later'! He knows it, I know it and you are just ignorant to see it like you were too ignorant to see that Rogue was beyond your help." He knew the moment he said those words he'd be done for but he couldn't bring himself to care. "You know what, I'm done," he cried, tossing up his hands. Grabbing at his coat hanging off the near by chair, he ignored the tears in her eyes. "When you've come off your high horse you can find me sleeping on the couch downstairs." With that he slammed the door in Jean's face.
The stress toped with his words broke the last barrier she had and she collapsed back onto the bed in a quivering mass. Hands deeply buried in her hair she asked herself how things had gotten this bad.
****
The night dwindled, summer cutting it's life short as 4:00 am rolled by. Even at the ungodly hours barely a member of the school for the gifted slept. The comfort wasn't affordable to anyone and Jean found herself making a midnight hot cocoa run for the younger students. She didn't quite believe they felt the heavy cloud that had fallen over the older members but simply chose that night to try and stay up as late as they could. It was a tactic she was accustom to, having committed the act several times as a child. She only wished that were the case this night. Her mentor and stagnant father figure had taken her husband and gone to the private prison that held the one person with a possible lead.
She'd watched the jet take off and couldn't help the dread that had swept across her like the feel of deaths cold hand on her spine. The feeling was without rhyme or reason but it felt no less viable to the red head. Repressing the newly kindled emotion she finished the last steaming hot cup of cocoa and sent the children to the games room. The small group vanished quickly, intrigued with the idea of watching TV at such a late hour.
Leaning heavily on the counter her mind wandered to her lab only a few hours before. She couldn't believe the horrible things her husband had said to Logan and then to her up in their room. An itching feeling that maybe he had the right pricked at the back of her mind but she suppressed it. Never one to admit a fault she quickly cleaned up and went in search of the lone shadow. To apologize, to console or simply to be in the masculine presence he exuded she wasn't sure nor did she care.
Searching for a moment she expanded her mental abilities, honing in on the distinct aura of the man. Hurt, anger and a deeply somber feeling of uselessness was what she found and she followed it. Slowly taking the stairs she realized where it was she was headed and sighed. How could one man hurt so deeply?
Jean made her way down the hall slowing down when she caught a glimpse of Logan's deeply hunched shoulders. Tears bubbled to the surface at the site of the disheveled man staring with blind eyes into the empty room that was once Rogue's. She tried not to disturb him, tried to allow him this but his senses kicked in and he let out a groan of frustration.
A blush crept up onto her cheeks and she bowed her head away as if she'd caught him stepping out of the shower.
She waited for him to speak first, waited for him to snap at her to leave him be, that he didn't need her shoulder for solace. He never did and an uncomfortable silence descended over her. Logan never noticed, too intent in his gaze. The room was so blatantly her, her sent wafted from every corner. The smell of her tears, her blood and her simple sweet yet earthy smell. He'd hoped just this could calm the raging storm within him. Hopeless.
Shifting Jean forged the courage to speak her voice barely above a whispering breath. "The professor and Scott left not too long ago." She waited for a response, a shift in stance but got nothing. "If they get anything they'll come back for us…" The redundancy of the statement did not go unnoticed to her. Sighing she closed the gap between them by a fraction. "I'm sorry about Scott, he had to right to-"
"Don't," Logan snapped, his voice lacking all emotion and Jean cringed at the resignation that lingered there. "Don't apologize for him. He said what needed to be said."
"Logan… he had no right, what he said it was… it was just wrong."
Removing his gaze for the first time since he'd found himself here he stared at her incredulously. "He had every right. He was right." Turning back he seemingly lost every ounce of backbone, the arch growing in intensity. "About everything…"
Eyes wide and filled with shock she snapped with a slight bitterness to her voice, "So what? You're giving up now? Running again?"
"Did I say that?" Logan snapped back.
"Well… what the hell are you saying Logan?" Confusion obvious, she tried to get it.
"I'm saying… apologize to your husband and hope to god Rogue can forgive me." He wanted to say more, wanted his own desperate apology to echo around the world and burrow in Marie's head so she could grasp how truly sorry he was. Stiffening his back he took a sharp breath and walked off, barely registering the woman with a look. He needed to beat something up bad and he didn't think his room was a good idea.
'Damn!' Jean cursed to herself when she realized she was going to have to apologize.