Disclaimer: This is fan fiction, which by definition means its just an amateur work by a fan for other fans of the X-Men franchise. Absolutely not for profit and I don’t take credit for the any of the characters of X-Men. They’re all owned by Marvel and 20th century Fox etc.
Summary: My own take on what happens post X2. I got inspired by this lovely Scott/Logan manip made by xenasoul (thanks much darling!) and then the story got away from me, just… took off on its own. I am not to blame for this, much I swear. Pairings used - Scott with several others.
Warnings: Slash and Het. More Het than Slash
Rating: mild R
Author Notes: Guess I’m just venting since there will hardly be any Cyclops in X3. So this is MY X3! :P Started writing this after the spoilers for the movie came out so yeah they’re the source of inspiration for this story. But obviously this is not going to be consistent with the movieverse or comic canon either. So… AU I guess. Most of it is Scott POV. Pardon my mistakes, but do point them out to me so I can fix them.
The tears never came again, not since. The nightmares never went away. Scott Summers decided he should just stop sleeping, and that plan could only work so long. Every waking moment a throbbing testament to the hollowness inside. Phantom strains of a bond that once was, pushing and pulling all at once, isolating him from everyone and everything not inside his own messed up head. The deafening silence taunted him. Tortured him until he found himself trying to drown it with imagined sounds and voices. Least that’s what the Professor thought.
But… I can still hear her.
Give it time Scott.
Time he gave. Forty two days and forty two nights. And the voices just got louder. And louder.
He tried the old fashioned way to help him forget. Slipped out one night alone, went to town and got blind drunk. Not that it worked.
Logan found him face down by the mansion’s lake at dawn. Swore vehemently, thanked the weather gods the lake was frozen over, then coaxed and cajoled an incapacitated field leader back inside. Least he tried.
At third stumble by the stairs, he gave up talking (or semblance of it) and Scott found himself enveloped in the arms of a person he did not like very much. Least not to his knowledge.
“What is it Cyke?”
He tried again. “N-Nemesis. Arch! Nemesis.”
Logan walked on quietly as he carried the younger mutant to his bedroom.
“Not there… can’t… can’t sleep there.”
Logan had stayed since… after… you know. He’d stayed and watched, and helped where he could. He tried to fill the void that Jean left behind with her students. Tried to assume the responsibilities Scott neglected in his grief that refused to lessen and rapidly morphed instead to insanity. He knew Scott hadn’t been sleeping in the bed he once shared with Jean. He also knew Scott was keeping the room as a fucking mausoleum for his dead lover.
It wasn’t painful just for the kid to be in. Logan turned about.
“You’re right. Not there…”
Scott squinted at the bigger man through his quartz glasses.
Logan halted, lowering his head to look suspiciously at the shy mischief playing on the drunk man’s beautiful but gaunt face.
Logan sprawled the boy out on his bed and made to stand back, fully expecting Scott to doze off the moment his hair touched the pillow. He was wrong.
Scott sat back up, gripped the front of Logan’s jeans and pulled him close, his fingers dallying with the zipper before slowly pulling it down. At Scott’s softened and for once smiling features, Logan sighed.
“I’m in need… please Logan…”
Logan stared… shook his head, and reached to switch off the light.
Some time after noon, Scott woke up with an even greater pounding in his temples than usual. Took off his glasses with one hand and rubbed his sleep-filled eyes with the heel of another. That’s when he realised there was someone else in the room. Quickly he put back his glasses and turned to the man seated on a sofa chair by the bed. He frowned, with part suspicion and part goddamn irritation.
“What are you doing in my room?”
Scott looked around. “This… is not my room?”
And memories of a dark unexpected… unintended dawn returned. With it intense, horrifying… gut-wrenching remorse.
Scott kept running. He’d been running ever since the day before, every time he saw him, every time they crossed paths he turned the other way and just… ran.
Logan finally caught up with him after dinner in the garage. On his bike where he’d sit, facing a blank wall. Like a tired old man resigned to a life he didn’t want anymore.
“You can’t keep avoiding me.”
Scott started, though not enough.
And he got up to move back inside. Adamantium claws snikt’d out, buried in the opposite wall effectively blocking the way. Scott found himself chest to broader chest with nowhere to go but back. He turned, wrong move.
Logan grabbed his arm and spun him around, pulled him close into his body and tight within his arms so his low growls were breathed right into the boy’s left ear. Scott shivered, words reluctant to tumble through his trembling lips.
“H-How dare you…”
Logan just hugged him harder.
“I’m still in mourning…”
It didn’t matter to the older man but Scott was angry, so fucking pissed off. How could it be so easy for this bastard to just…? Just… move on! He had professed to love Jean too had he not? How could he just…
How could I? Damnit how could I?
Scott! My Love.
The voices in his head grew stronger. His eyes went wide as the glow from his glasses doubled… she could sense his betrayal! She was calling to him. Scott struggled harder.
“Cyke please… let her go.”
He broke free and stepped back fast as he could.
“Never.” He hissed.
Don’t leave me behind Scott.
The bike was full and ready to go. He didn’t stop to think. Didn’t stop to see the hurt and worry in Logan’s eyes. Didn’t stop at Xavier’s imploring in his mind that he promptly shut off. He just had to get away.
Run!… hard as he could… before they stopped him… he ran, and he kept on running and didn’t stop.
Not till she told him to.