Sitting at the briefing table Jean held a fresh ice pack over her cheek and tried not to focus on the pain that raced through her body. The human wall they’d encountered at that backwater hospital had been less than willing to allow her to retrieve the boy. In fact he’d smirked down at her, almost licking his lips as he’d eyed her.
She’d tried to read him and came up empty and now she was feeling it. Glancing at Storm who’s uniform held several long, nasty looking gashes Jean’s gaze slid to Beast who was currently fixing a salve to ease the burning of the scratches that crisscrossed Storm’s body.
“You were extremely lucky I believe,” Hank stated calmly.
“This is the second time that they’ve interfered,” Jean snarled angrily, “How much more are they willing to do. I don’t get it. I mean I can understand Logan wanting revenge for Rogue’s death, I could even understand him attacking us but to join up with the Brotherhood? To turn away from everything decent..”
“I do not believe for one moment that he’s turned away from what’s decent,” Hank declared glancing between the two women, “He is Logan, and he blames us for the demise however unfortunate of Rogue and her friends.”
“But to be so…” Jean paused for a moment, “So emotionless. That thing I was up against sure didn’t pull punches, and I couldn’t read him. It was like dealing with a brick wall.”
“Indeed,” Storm hissed at the gentle pressure of Hank’s fingers on the scratches from Logan’s claws, “We were not dealing with Logan out there but Wolverine.”
“Both are dangerous, both are deadly,” Hank stated the obvious just as the door opened and Charles rolled in. “Aah good evening sir.”
“Hank, how are they doing?”
“Well I think they’ll survive,” Hank replied glancing at his friend, “They’re superficial wounds.”
Nodding quickly Charles sighed, “This is the second such event in short order. There must be a way of dealing with this threat.”
From where he sat leaned back in a leather chair staring at the ceiling Scott chuckled quickly and turned his head to stare at the group currently patching themselves up. Leaving the smirk on his face he merely stared back at them, in the weeks since he’d been back he’d found it almost painful to be around them. Jean’s touch stirred up his self-protective urges and he often found himself leaving the room. He’d even gone so far as to start sleeping on the couch rather than in their bed to avoid her touch.
Any attempt on their part to start a dialogue about what he’d gone through was met with stoic silence and bitterness. The one and only time Charles had attempted to read his mind he’d flipped, nearly killing the older man and since then neither of the telepaths in the mansion had tried to get into his head.
“Have you something to add?” Charles asked calmly, distantly.
“No,” Scott shifted and rose, “My input is not needed,” he drawled as he slipped out the door. Pausing in the hallway he rubbed his temple and sighed, he wanted proof that he was where he belonged and sitting around while the others went on missions wasn’t what he needed, what he wanted.
He wondered briefly if it was normal to find your alliances switching to the other side after a stay like he’d endured. Would he be so willing to protect them if he hadn’t had a chance to be with Kitty? If he hadn’t had a chance to please her in bed?
Swallowing against the growing wave of longing Scott hurried toward the elevator and up to his room. Closing the door he moved over to sink onto the couch, he knew he needed help, knew he couldn’t deal with this on his own any longer but to ask Jean or Hank?
They’d betray his confidence so quickly he’d be back to wishing he was with Kitty getting stomped into the ground. No, no it was better to find someone else, someone who would give him an honest assessment. But who? He briefly thought of trying to find Kitty, of trying to get back to where he’d been but pushed the thoughts aside.
“Scott?” Jean’s voice had him growling out a warning even as he shifted, turning away from her. “Scott please, it’s eating you alive. Look whatever happened we’ll deal with it, we can survive this.”
“Go away Jean, I’m not in the mood to talk to you.”
“Scott please, I’m your wife I love you just trust me, talk to me.”
“No,” Scott turned his head and stared at Jean, “I don’t trust you, I don’t trust anyone here. You have no idea what you’ve done. None, and I’m not going to fill you in. Leave me to hell alone.”
“Scott please, Logan’s only acting out his grief..”
“And you don’t think he has the right?” Scott stormed glaring at her. “You don’t think that he has the right to blame you, to blame us for what happened to Rogue and Kitty and Jubilee?”
“No, I don’t. Their deaths were unfortunate Scott, but it wasn’t like we planned…”
“I’m not discussing this with you,” Scott snapped rising to his feet and stalking toward his wife, “I refuse to.”
“Scott please, let me help you get better.”
“I’m just fine the way I am! They liked me, they wanted me!” Scott jerked open the door and glared at his wife, “Just let it lay.”
Watching him storm off Jean wondered what she could do to reach him then shrugged, he needed time and she needed to get out of these clothes and figure some way of hiding the rather large, ugly bruise on her face!
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000