The doors of the small, rough looking bar were a welcome sight as Scott parked his bike. In the week since he’d gone back to that house, his life had spiraled out of control. To his teammates he was still the same old, reliable, steady, Scott Summers, but inside, inside he knew differently.
Every time he closed his eyes he could see the pictures, see the blatant evidence of the crimes that had been done and nothing could erase it. Both Professor Xavier and Jean had tried to get him to open up about what he found, but he wouldn’t. How did you tell someone that a man you’d written off as evil, as an untamed animal, was more of a man than you were? How could he reveal that Logan had butchered that man for raping a child when it meant that he had to admit he’d been wrong about Logan? He didn’t know and sought relief in the one place he could. The bottle.
Stepping inside he paused a fraction of a minute as the patrons turned and eyed him before turning back to their own misery. From across the room he caught sight of a familiar face and nodded slightly.
“What’ll it be, Shades?” Bethany asked strolling up to him and smiling.
“Whatever ya got that’s strong.” Scott muttered and grabbed her arm. “You got plans for later?”
“No.” Bethany shrugged, “but I’m willin’ to be convinced.”
Scott smiled and let her go. He watched her walk away, his eyes on her hips as he settled into a dark corner. He had no idea how long he sat there when he heard the door open and silence fall. Turning his head he frowned, catching sight of the tall, muscular man who strode into the room.
“Hey Barry,” Deep, rough, the voice was thick with an accent as the man settled at the bar. “You got any of that bourbon the boss likes?”
“Now Sam ya know I ain’t a liquor store.”
“I know,” the man laughed. “And you know the boss ain’t gonna come inside and buy it herself.”
“How is that girl of yours doing?”
“Boss is fine. Getting married in a couple of months.”
“Who’s the lucky bastard?” The bartender drawled as he dusted off a bottle he pulled from beneath the bar.
“That tall Russian she comes by with.”
A frown crossed the bartender’s face for a moment before he grinned, “You mean that polished spoon caught her?”
“Yep.” Sam nodded as Bethany approached the bar. “Hey, darlin’ you need a ride home?”
“Naw.” Scott watched her smile warmly at the tall man, “I got one already lined up.”
Sam’s head turned to the corner, Bethany indicated and he raised an eyebrow at the slick looking man with shades sitting nursing a tall drink. He turned back to Bethany and swore, “Please tell me ya ain’t plannin’ on fuckin’ him. Angel will have your ass.”
“He ain’t a trick.” Bethany whispered softly, too low for anyone else to hear. “And if it gets us some intel what does it matter?”
“Be careful. Leave the rear porch light on. If there’s trouble just turn it off and I’ll be there.”
“Sam I don’t need you watching over me. I can take care…”
“I know you can. That ain’t an issue. I just don’t wanna wake up tomorrow morning and find you dead on the floor. Do it for me.” Sam paid for the expensive bottle and rose.
“Fine. But don’t go getting any ideas.”
Sam chuckled and tapped her nose. “Ideas are for people who have a future. I don’t.”
Shaking her head Bethany watched her teammate disappear out the door. Turning to Barry she put in her order and waited for him to put the drinks on her tray.
The sound of an engine roaring filled the bar as the doors swung open again and Scott shifted uneasily as he caught sight of who had come into the bar. He watched Logan stroll up to the bar and sit on one of the stools.
“What’ll it be?” Barry’s deep voice carried over the crowd’s rumble.
“Beer.” Logan glanced over his shoulder in the mirror and saw a familiar figure sitting in the shadows. “And another of whatever Shades is drinkin’.”
“So, what brings you down to the slums?” Logan demanded sitting across from Scott and eying him with barely concealed ill will.
“Fuck off Logan.” Scott ground out waving his glass at Bethany and hoping Logan would vanish.
“No can do. Seems you’ve been poking your nose in where it don’t belong.” Logan leaned forward. “You think you’ve got it all figured out huh?”
“I’m not in the mood to listen to you gloat,” Scott ground out. “I have things to do and people to see.”
“Fuck that shit. You think because you’re Xavier’s little choir boy I’m gonna go easy on ya?” Logan chuckled humorless. “Guess again. Now I figure since I bought you a drink, you can at least listen to me.”
“I don’t want to fight with you Logan, I’ve got better things…”
“She ain’t some cheap tramp you can fuck with.” Logan hissed as Bethany moved away from them. “She’s not a toy. You wanna have a little fun go see Jean.”
Scott glared at Logan for a moment before the fight left him. “Jean doesn’t have a clue.”
“What’s the matter? You find a kink you’re into and Jean won’t fill it for you?”
“Jean could fill any need I had with a thought,” Scott admitted. “She just can’t erase what I saw.”
Logan sat back and reached for his beer. “What was that?”
“They were little babies, Logan. Was there even one in that book that was past puberty?”
“No.”
“You knew that though, you knew what was going on there. You killed him because he was what? Their pimp? Their owner?”
“He was a john.” Logan replied steadily. “He’d already made his purchase.”
Scott paled slightly and reached for his drink. “How do you do it? How do you live with the knowledge of what was happening there?”
Logan glanced around him, his eyes taking in the others in the bar before he turned back to Scott. “I kill ‘em. Everyone that I cross paths with, each and every one of them sick bastards that destroy the innocent for their own pleasure. Then I go home to Rogue and get lost in her arms.”
Scott twisted his glass in silence, “How does Rogue deal with it?”
“She cries a lot. Then she gets tough and she fights with me for them.” Logan took in the disheveled looking younger man. “You wanna help? You wanna step up to the plate?”
“I can’t. I couldn’t even help those kids.”
Logan reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. “Call this number, there’s a huge fundraiser next month. Give ‘em your name and say you’re part of Xavier’s School. Tell ‘em that you’ll be there and take a chance Scott.”
Scott watched Logan rise to his feet. “And if things don’t happen the way you think they will?”
Logan shrugged. “I’m not the one that pays for your silence. You wanna know who does? Take a ride by the graveyard on Hillside Drive. There’s a section fenced off, and a fresh grave. Go take a look at the marker. See what you’re turning a blind eye to.”
Long after Logan had disappeared back out the doors, Scott sat staring at the watery ring on the table. He couldn’t keep doing this, couldn’t keep bottling his emotions inside. Just this afternoon he’d all but snapped at one of the girls who came to class in a mini-skirt and tank top.
“Come on handsome,” Bethany’s voice broke into his thoughts and he glanced up into her smiling face. “My place is only a few doors away.”
Scott rose to his feet and fell into step with her. He wondered when the guilt would hit, when he’d feel bad for betraying Jean by screwing around on her. When he glanced up and saw a young boy, about thirteen, his face barely marked by acne, standing dressed like something in a gay bordello, he pulled Bethany a little tighter against him. All he wanted right then was to drown the pain for a little while, even if it was in the arms of a woman he didn’t know.
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