Title: Starting Over

Pairing: Well, several. Jean/Logan and Scott/Emma for sure. Maybe a bit of Kitty/Colossus and Rogue/Remy for fun and flair. We'll see what we get into. :)

Rating: T at the beginning (mainly for language, because dude...seriously...Logan swears a lot.), M (for fluff, maybe?) later on.

Author's Note: I know it's all a lot to go over at once, but hopefully this will be a good restart to this fic. 4 chapters in and I think it's heading good places. Thoughts? Please read and review!

How should we like it were stars to burn

With a passion for us we could not return?

If equal affection cannot be,

Let the more loving one be me.

W. H. Auden

A cloud of red hair fluttered in the wind, caught in the edge of approaching storm. The owner of the hair turned her face to the sky, seeming to relish the feel of the wind on her face.

How appropriate that there's a storm coming in. This could be the story of my life.

There was something so comforting about the park at this time of day. Just after 6, there was still a lot of daylight left, but the sun was no longer beating down on the city through the clouds. Instead, it formed a warm glow behind all the skyscrapers. The dark clouds out east at sea served as an exquisite contrast of dark and light.

This is too much of my existence right now. Maybe I should have checked the weather.

Jean's toes curled in her ballet flats. She'd debated for an hour and a half what would be the best thing to wear.

A floaty dress? If it was windy in Philly it was going to be more so in NYC.

Something more formal? They were meeting in a park, for God's sake.

Maybe jeans? Good lord, the only jeans Jean had were raggedy and paint splattered.

She'd given up and gone for jean shorts, a lavender tank, and black ballet flats. Something casual, comfortable, and staying away from anything oppressive or presumptuous. This was just a meeting and a chat. And maybe, just maybe, nobody had taken the time to see why Logan was going off so far into NYC when he preferred being alone in the woods.

The habit of doing a light scan of anybody nearby had developed since Jean had come back this time. It'd helped her avoid a couple of near run-ins with Emma and Kitty. Nobody was ready for that confrontation, least of all Jean.

It was no surprise, then, when she felt the mental scream of elation coming from a man just across the pond behind her. The elation was suddenly blunted, almost as if the man knew someone was watching and dampened his thoughts. She turned, and the anxiety of seeing so familiar a face after her last "visit" threatened to overwhelm her.

In through the nose, out through the mouth.

The nausea rose, and then receded slowly as the figure stepped onto the bridge. He stopped a few feet away from her in his usual uniform of jeans slung low on the hips, a tank top, a button up shirt, and those boots of his that he always wore. It was so achingly familiar that it took Jean a moment to remember to breathe.

"Nice night out, yeah?"

The voice was rough, a little deeper than she remembered. It struck her as absurd that he was commenting on the weather, and the laugh that bubbled out of her mouth left her bent over and wheezing before she could gather herself together.

"Yeah, it was a dumbass comment. Maybe if your mouth wasn't hangin' open or you weren't laughin' yourself silly you coulda said somethin' less stupid."

Thank you, Logan, for always having a quip.

Jean's embarrassed grin stole across her face, and once more her toes curled inside her shoes.

"It's all weird. Isn't it? It feels weird. Last time you had to kill me a lot. And I'm sorry for that. And I know I can't erase it. I just want something better, something more than misery in every universe. And that should be possible, yeah? But it's all so much and I know they're going to ha-"

Logan was inches from her and reaching for her hand before she realized he'd moved. He held it gently, thumb working circles over her palm, trying to calm her. Jean looked up at him, miserable and fighting back the burning rush of the tears she swore she wouldn't cry.

His head tilted, and it took him a moment to speak, taking care to measure his words gently.

"I can't speak for that lot up at the school. And I ain't gonna lie. I'm worried. There's been a lot of times where this has all gone to shit no matter who wanted what. But I've been thinkin', and it strikes me that there's been a lot of people messin' with your head."

The side of his mouth lifted in a crooked grin before he continued.

"I don't think I've ever heard you be so cussed about anything, except maybe how you hated pistachios and that whole thing on the moon. I don't know how you'll do it, but you seem so hell bent on doin' it I don't think anybody could tell you no, not even One Eye and the Ice Bitch."

Jean sniffed, still a little teary, and couldn't resist a snicker at Emma Frost's nickname. She tried to not focus on what it meant, Logan holding her hand. All she knew was that it felt warm and safe, and she didn't want him to let go. Logan continued.

"I just worry that ya might not be able to do it alone. I'm bettin' you're not hangin' around any other mutants, otherwise they'd sell you out to us real fast. It gets lonesome, not being around anybody who knows what it's like."

The snort that came from Jean was highly unladylike and made Logan grin.

"Yeah, I can't imagine trying to explain to my therapist that I house a god-level force of creation, or that I've died and come back so many times my head is still spinning." Jean sighed, looking down as her brow furrowed. "I'm not sure anybody knows what it's like, but at least the therapist is trying to help."

Logan's brow arched. "Therapy? That's...different. Didn't take you for the psycho babble type."

His response was met with an eyeroll. "Learning how the mind functions and how it can turn against itself is important. It's given me a lot of perspective on what we all go through on a regular basis. We practically fight wars and have the weight of several universes on our shoulders. Why wouldn't we stumble and break sometimes? But when we do, we need to be able to take accountability and move forward without being petrified of the past. And I won't do it again. I refuse." She bit her lip, scowling at the stones on the bridge in frustration.

"Hey, no offense intended, darlin'. It's just different, is all. And you're not wrong. We've been through a hell of a lot, and somehow we keep on truckin'. Maybe it's because we don't know any better. But for now...for now just live." Rain began to sprinkle around them. Logan grinned, and turning and pulling Jean along started to cross the bridge.

"Now, wasn't there some kinda talk about coffee?"