Title: The Tale of Two Hearts

Author: Trinalla Mohani (riddickgurl@yahoo.com.au)

Website: no site

Rating: PG-13

Pairing/main characters: Cyclops/Wolverine

Series/Sequel: Followed by Those Things You Do

Summary: During the movie events between Logan and Scott occur, also Scott's past is revealed.

Disclaimer: I don't own them but my God what I wouldn't do to have them in a room togther!

Date: May 2001

Archive/distribution: Yes please, just tell me where!

Warning: Sappy and angsty.

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The Tale of Two Hearts

By Trinalla Mohani

 

Chapter One (Scott's POV)

He says he's leaving. Doesn't know when he'll be back (if at all), though he did give Marie his dogtags so that has to count for something. He's been itching to get out of there ever since he arrived but one thing or another always got in the way. Well now there's nothing at all to stop the bastard from leaving. It's not like my feelings are going to hold any sway with a self possessed loner like him. But you know the thing that really startles me the most isn't the fact that he can leave so easily without a hint of regret or guilt, but the fact that, when he leaves, he'll be taking my heart with him.
It's kinda sad when you think about it. And believe me, I've been thinking about it. Almost non-stop. Me, a one-eyed mutant freak has lost his heart to an arrogant loner, also a mutant, called Wolverine. Or just Logan, seeing as he can't remember if he has a last name. I don't even know if he gives two hoots about me. For all I know, I could have just been his latest fuck buddy in a long string of partners. To tell the truth, I don't think I know anything about the man. Not anything that matters anyway.
I was there when Jean was telling us about his adamantium encased skeleton, and I was a witness to his fight with Sabertooth in Canada so I got to see the claws. But other than that, I know nothing. The man's a big a mystery as Area 51. Only I have a feeling that aliens would be easier to understand than the strong, silent mutant I've fallen in love with.
I never believed in love at first sight. I believed I'd become too jaded and cynical. I thought love grew out of mutual liking and respect, if at all, a certain understanding for the person in your affections. If Logan hadn't barged into our lives, I truly believe I would have married Jean and never known what I was missing.
Don't get me wrong, I love Jean, thing is I'm not in love with her. The best way to describe my relationship with our dear doctor is to say it's the closest friendship one could ever wish to have with the opposite sex. If it weren't for Jean I probably wouldn't even believe in love. The professor and Jean have become my family and I wouldn't hurt them for the world. Charles is the father I always wished I'd had and Jean is the sister I always wanted. Someone to look after and protect. I never realized all this till Logan came into the picture and reminded me of the life I'd left behind and everything I'd repressed since coming to the mansion.
Charles would be shocked to think that and find out that his training, teachings and counseling have done absolutely nothing to help me move on to new things, move away from my old life. What Charles calls control, I call a mask. What Charles calls control, I call restraint. There wasn't really anything Charles could teach me that I hadn't already taught myself.
All I really learnt was how to mask my thoughts from a telepath as powerful as the professor. And he doesn't suspect a thing. He treats us all as his family and me especially as the son he never had, and can never have.
He knows only as much of my past as I chose to tell him. What he doesn't know won't hurt him but if he ever found out, it certainly could. I've never voluntarily told anyone, anyone that is except Logan.
Stupid thing to do really. He was probably sitting there the entire time thinking, 'Oh poor little pansy Scott', then 'Why the hell am I sitting here listening to this shit?' And I can't believe I sat there and told him all that shit. I wasn't looking for sympathy or pity, I was hoping that if I opened up a bit to him he'd reciprocate. Boy was I wrong.
But then it's so hard to tell with him, he's even more closed off than I am. And now he's off chasing demons from his past, on my motorcycle. Without so much as a 'by your leave'. If he'd only left me a message like he did with Marie, along the lines of 'I'll be returning this to you' I could have maybe excused it. But nothing. He left while we were watching the news, having just found out Mystique is posing as our dearly departed Senator Kelly, out of the corner of my eye I saw Marie dash towards the front door and I vaguely realized he was leaving. But unlike Marie I couldn't run to him and beg him to stay. I'd already done that the night before.
As casually as possible I looked toward the door to see Marie clutching his dogtags to her chest and then I heard it. I could almost see him thinking 'should I or shouldn't I?' I tensed and angrily muttered, "The fuck you will!" much to my teammates astonishment and bolted out the front door only to catch the sight of my bike and my love shooting through the gates at the far end of the drive. So now he's gone. Not just going, but gone.
Seems like Marie and I have more in common than I first thought. She seems to be taking his leaving pretty well. She's too mature for her age but then that comes with being a mutant. Makes you grow up quick and it also takes away any pretense of ever trying to live a normal life. I came to acknowledge that fact very early on and a lot more violently than Marie (though granted hers was pretty bad). I was a few years younger than she is now. I was twelve and used to spend my afternoons playing baseball with the other kids down at the park. Orphans. My parents obviously had an inkling when I was born that I was going to be a mutant so they ditched me at an orphanage. I wasn't especially loved there either.
The workers must have thought I was a sullen irascible boy. But I wasn't, I was merely lonely. Even in an orphanage surrounded by fellow dumpees I was and outsider and that was before I mutated. There's a long history in that orphanage of child abuse and I was just like all the other kids, only I think I probably annoyed more workers than most other kids. I was beaten probably three, four times a day. Six if they were especially pissed off. I learned to heal quickly, it took the heat of the other, weaker kids when they noticed I was healed and they focused their attention on me.
One day I just snapped and started to hit back. I was in such a frenzy that the pain they inflicted upon me didn't even register. I was in the sick room for a week. I looked like one huge bruise. I learned from that experience to be sure. I never attacked them again, but I watched. I watched them very closely. I wanted to learn how to defend myself and survive out in the real world. Because that was my goal, to escape out of the orphanage, take some of the kids with me and make a living for myself out in the real world. I didn't really care if it took my to the streets and I was living in a dumpster, as long as I was out!
That day came but as I'd expected or anticipated.
Mack, the head worker, was beating me and he was being especially violent. I think his girlfriend had just ditched him or something, whatever it was he was taking it out on me. At one stage I realized I he was way beyond the ability to stop and I started to fight back, knowing that if I didn't I'd probably be beaten to death. I think it was probably the stupidest thing I could have done. I just provoked him more. I went flying across the room a few times, first couple of times I hit objects with my back and shoulder but the last few times it was my head that crashed into a wall, a dresser and the metal frame of a bed.
God I can still remember it, I can still feel the searing pain in my head, behind my eyes. I thought it was just a result of my head being bashed into things because by that stage Mack thought it was fun to grab my head and bash it into the floor over and over again. I was in torment, my eyesight was all blurred and tinged red with all the pain that was pounding in my head. It felt like my eyes were burning from the inside out. I screamed, the first scream I'd ever let out whilst being beaten. It worked wonders on Mack. It snapped him out of his rage and I think he was a little shocked to see what he'd done and just how far he'd gone. He screamed for someone to call an ambulance and hurried towards me. I'm not sure what he did, I think I must have blanked out for a while, whatever happened the ambulance did arrive. Fat lot of good it did though.
I'll never know what the doctors at the hospital would have done. How do you treat a kid who can blast through anything just by opening his eyes? It's probably just as well then, that we never made it to the hospital. A green Volvo station wagon came tearing around a corner at a busy intersection. The driver died instantly and I was thrown out of the ambulance as it spun out of control. It was lucky for me, the ambulance was then rammed by a series of other cars, slamming those inside and seriously injuring them. I skidded along the road and came to a halt in the gutters of the pavement across the street.
The first thing that entered my head when I regained consciousness was that, Thank God, the pain had stopped. It wasn't until I opened my eyes to see where I was that the trouble really started. Everything I saw was red. I could just make out the shop in front of me but by then it had already been blown to pieces, those inside, killed. I turned to look around me and I remember the squeals and screams of all those people, the sounds of glass exploding and the horrible, lingering smell of burnt flesh.
I used to have nightmares about that for years afterwards. Belatedly I realized what I was doing and closed my eyes. But it was already too late. I heard people screaming in agony but in between their gasps of pain they managed to yell out "Dirty Mutie!" and "Get That Mutie! Look what he's done!". Needless to say I ran out of there like the devil himself was chasing me. I was so lucky I didn't break something. I didn't dare open my eyes and I had no idea where I was going, not idea what was in front of me. I think I even ran into a brick wall or the side of a house, I don't know. But I do know that whatever it was it knocked me out cold, again.
When I woke up I was somewhere quiet and warm and I was comfortable. I didn't dare open my eyes for fear of starting things all over again. It appeared that a kind old gentleman had found me and taken pity on me.
I saw old because he sounded sophisticated to me, I actually have no idea how old he was. In the time between waking up and him introducing himself, I came to some very painful decisions and realizations. So when he came in a couple of hours later, I was facing the window with my face clear of any expression, while inside I was screaming and crying silent tears of pain.
He asked the obvious questions, "Where are your parents?" I told him in a dull voice that I had none.
I was a painful interview, I almost felt sorry for him. I know I wasn't very forthcoming but he was patient. I'll give him that. He unofficially adopted me and I lived with him till I was sixteen, when he died. I have a lot to thank him for. He taught me how to deal with my 'blindness', for I refused to open my eyes at all. I came to rely on my other senses, especially hearing and touch. My sense of smell was never all that good but it got better with the years.
I wore black so that I wouldn't have to worry about colour coordinating my outfits. I was permanently wearing sunglasses, just so others knew I was blind and not just walking around with my eyes shut for the hell of it. I had a stick I used only in public and when I was with the old man, crowds tended to confuse and frighten me. When I went out on my own I used only my senses. I remember the one day I followed a bird all the way from our house to a park three and a half blocks away. It was the most exhilarating day I spent with the old man in that house. And when he died I packed all my clothes and some food into a bag and ran.
It was only years later when Xavier found me and I was once again a legal citizen that I realized the old man had left me everything he'd owned in his will, it listed me as his son. Somewhere along the line he'd adopted me for real. And for that alone I'll love him till I die.

 

Chapter Two (Scott's POV)

Life never seems to go the way you hope it will. What happened to the innocence of sitting down and discussing what we were going to be when we grew up?
I'd expect it of any kid, I think I might have even had that conversation once. But Fate decided I'd get the gnarled end of the stick and since that time, nothing good has ever come of my life.
The next seven years after I left the old man's house, were a blur of booze, men and money. I
prostituted myself to any willing man that would have me. I learnt even more in those years away from society than I did living up to its ever-changing standards. I felt free and yet at the same time I was tied in chains. One of my customers seemed to keep coming back. It seemed he'd fallen in love with me, this man called Jack. So we started to live together in a flat we bought with some of my pay. He took care of me and I gave him what emotion I was capable of. We got special rent pay because of my 'disability' therefore leaving us more money to waste on alcohol.
Jack kept an eye on the men that came in and made sure they weren't too bad and looked like they'd be able to pay. I sent him out to get us our alcohol and we'd drink ourselves into oblivion. He was good to me for what it's worth. And I lived like that without a thought for tomorrow and I didn't care. There were a few times when Jack was too drunk or hung-over to help me when one of the customers became a bit brutal. But when that happened I came to anticipate the danger and the pain.
One day I decided to forget about work and I packed a small bag with my clothes (if you can't tell already, I was rather attached to them) and my money and I went for a walk. I'm not entirely sure but I think I left some money and a note for Jack. That walk took me to a park where I sat on the ground beside a man in a wheelchair called Charles Xavier. And ever since then I have never looked back. Except for that one night at Logan's bedside where I told him about the orphanage just to let him hear my voice, I've never told anyone anything. They all think I was some kind of Boy Scout.
They're not far off though only I'm a self made one.
I'' know the wild streets of New York, not the local wilderness.
I didn't offer him anything, I had a feeling he would be seriously offended so I kept my mouth shut and for the first time since the 'accident' I thought about my eyes. I guess Charles wasn't above sneaking into people's heads at that time because he snooped around, picked up my thoughts and asked me a heap of questions about my mutation. We had a jolly old conversation in which he asked me to come and live with him in his 'house' in Westchester. I agreed because I had nothing to lose and nothing to look forward to (excuse the pun) and at least he had a dream.
I made a life for myself with Xavier and the thought never entered my head to leave. I helped him to start things off and he help to educate me that helped when I eventually started to give lessons. Not bad for a boy who never went to school! I spent some time with Jean who arrived shortly after I did, but mostly I kept to myself, exploring the grounds and finding niches in which to hide myself.
Together with the professor, Jean worked to find a material that could hold in my optic blasts. I kept blasting holes in the grounds every time they asked me to open my eyes that they finally asked me to look at the sky. Unfortunately a flock of geese were flying past at the time. But we did get to have roast goose for dinner a couple of times!
I remember I was sitting in the garden when I got the gift of sight back again. I was fingering a soft rose petal when I heard Jean approaching with the professor. They placed the glasses over my eyes and told me to take a look around, and for the first time in 10 years I was able to see the world I had been denied for so long. And it was the first time I saw what Jean really looked like, I had felt her to try and piece her looks with the cool voice but I have to say the image in my head was way off target. I got the professor pretty down pat though, the voice is a dead give away.
So once again I was learning how to cope with my mutation, only instead of blindness I had sight. The only thing I longed for was colour. Everything I saw was red so I stuck to wearing black because even with sight it's still hard to colour coordinate when you can't see anything other than red. I don't remember who made the decision to move in together but sure enough, Jean's things were sitting next to mine on the dresser and we were sharing a room. Ororo came and was placed in a room by herself and so the X-men were all together.
As the school got underway and more and more people (mutants) arrived, bunks and dormitories were established making the mansion seem crowded.
Definitely more so than when I arrived. Jean and I rarely saw each other, other than at meal times and at night. I had kids to teach, duties of a field leader to perform and then there was all the mechanical I'd seemed to have a knack for. Namely the bike I was working on.
I was already questioning my relationship with Jean when the professor wheeled out of Cerebro and told us that we had to go to Canada and save a couple of mutants that Magneto was after. I think I'd always questioned whether I could really love anyone. So Jean and I had a talk late one night and decided a trial separation wouldn't hurt us but leave us free to choose a different path id that was what we wished.
We started our separation by my going on the mission with only Ororo as back up. Jean volunteered to stay behind and pick up on the classes we'd be missing, plus she said she had stuff in the lab to do. Charles took over his share as well. That left me and Ororo free to take out the Blackbird and rescue these two mutants. I had no idea what was in store for me when I zipped up and replaced my glasses with my visor. Ororo and I figured it was just one of our usual missions.
Little did I know that in the winter wilderness of Canada I'd lose me heart to a mutant called Wolverine.
He was unconscious when we reached them and I had to drag him off the hood of the truck. His body was heavy because of the adamantium but I managed to drag him away before his bomb of a truck exploded. It was close and as soon as my it adrenaline faded my brain registered that fact that I was lying on top of a very solid masculine body. I remember I was hard pressed not to rub myself against him but before I could disgrace myself Ororo reminded me that I wasn't alone.
It was a very uncomfortable ride back to the mansion and as soon as we landed I was out in the locker rooms beating myself off to thoughts of the warmth, feel and scent of the mysterious man.
When the professor mentally called us into his office I had calmed myself down and was fiddling with my bike. I knew that he'd been taken down to the med lab and I figured he'd see Jean, I just hoped he wasn't attracted to her. It wouldn't' suit my purposes at all. So I entered Xavier's office in a mixture of anticipation and dread. He was even more devastating and stimulating awake and I could feel y blood heating up. I extended my hand politely, half expecting him to knock it aside but it was merely ignored. His eyes were locked on my face and I tired to shrug off his rejection. My plans were sliding downhill and they went down faster when Jean came in and his eyes followed her like she was a bitch in heat. I switched off when the professor started his spiel about Magneto, preferring to breath in Logan's scent and listen to the rumble of his voice. I was jarred back to reality when I heard his dry chuckle and watched, my heart beating faster in anticipation as he turned towards me and grabbed me, pulling me close. I heard him inhale, his eyes dilating as something too quick to identify flashed in his eyes. It was what he said that broke the spell and provoked me to raise an eyebrow at the professor, silently asking him to intervene. Xavier immediately became protective and assaulted Logan with fragments from his past life that he'd picked up in passing through his mind. Logan was not impressed but I just couldn't seem to wipe the smug smile off my face.
I asked Jean what she though of him whilst I was helping her move her stuff to another room across the hall from mine. Not much of a separation but it was a start and it wanted to take it one step at a time, slowly weaning ourselves of each other. She told me she thought Logan was lost and that something bad had happened to him. Her exact words were, "I don't really know what to think of him. But he seems a bit lost to me. Something must have happened to him. I mean you told me about the claws and, I don't know. Someone had to have put them there because they're not his."
We were silent for the rest of the moving, for my part I was considering all the different scenarios with which having claws implanted inside you would figure in. I shuddered at the mere thought of some unknown people abusing that magnificent body for the sake of some bizarre?experiment. Eventually we finished at exactly the same time Jean was supposed to meet Logan down at the mad lab for a more successful set of tests. She seems to live for them. So I wandered off to play with my bike again.
Something was nagging me though. The feelings Logan evoked in me were too reminiscent of my time as a whore and I wasn't really sure what to do. One thing I wanted though, other than to fuck him senseless, was to start over. So with that in mind I found myself walking down the hall to his room that night with the hopes of starting afresh. That and also I needed new sensory material for that night's beat show.
I remember hearing Jean's voice as well as Logan's and I plastered myself to the doorjamb to stay unobserved.
"Why don't you read my mind?" he asked, a blatant invitation, "I don't think so," Jean replied. Good girl, I thought to myself.
"Afraid you might like it?" I'm afraid I would. Jean just smirked and said, "I doubt it." But she broke the frivolous, bantering atmosphere the second she raised her hands to read his mind. She'd closed her eyes to concentrate only to open them a few seconds later with a gasp. Logan grabbed her hands as she'd made to move away and with an intent look asked her in a serious tone, "What did you see?"
I'd leaned forward as well, also wanting to know what she'd seen but she saw me move and used my presence as a scapegoat to get out of explaining it. And with a sigh of relief she'd tugged her hands free and breathed out my name before quickly waling out. She'd touched my arm as she'd passed as if to say 'sorry for using you like that'. I merely nodded as to silently say it was all right. And then I'd turned back to see Logan standing in the middle of the room looking as alone as I've felt my entire life. He had a sad and resigned look on his face before he turned to me with a light curl of his lip.
"You gonna tell me to stay away from your girl?" he'd asked. My first thought was 'hell yes!' Because I reasoned if he was staying away from Jean then he was free for me to go after. I merely said, "If she was my girl I wouldn't have to." I figured I was giving him an opening with that one. But I was just met with silence. The man's a hard as an elephant's arse! He pissed me off so I decided to hit back. "It must really burn you up that a boy like me saved your life. Better be careful, I might not be there next time." I paused to give him a chance to react at all. I'd searched his face for any sign at all but he'd just looked at me as if to say 'why are you doing this?'.
And the answer is I have no idea. Suddenly I'd lost all my nerve and started afresh suddenly didn't seem like all that good an idea. So I found my refuge in mockery, "Oh and Logan, stay away from my girl." And I walked away mentally kicking myself for being a coward. But at least I'd seen him and my dreams wouldn't be lonely that night.

 

Chapter Three (Logan's POV)

I'm finding the longer I'm out here the more I miss him. The long, snow-covered roads seem so dull without him here. I'm starting to realize how truly lonely searching for the past can be. It can't be like this
for all those kids who go looking for their real parents. This is nothing like it. I'm alone and I'm searching for a past I can't remember. There's a lot people don't know about me but then there's a lot I don't know about myself and usually the two go hand in hand. There was one who helped though, unintentionally. I don't even know if he realizes how much he's done for me, or just how much he's come to mean to me.
It's kinda hard to hold on to that hope out here in this frozen land. There's just too much open road that gives you too much time to think. And I've been doing a shit load of that. I probably should've thought about just where I was going before I filched his bike. There's no radio to listen to music to distract me from my thoughts and then there's the whole open to the freezing, biting wind thing. I probably should've taken a truck or something that was a bit more covered. But then I wouldn't be riding his bike. It's partly why I took it, to have a part of him with me as I went and chased down those elusive demons from my past. The other part was just to piss him off; he looks so adorable when he's all riled up. And I seemed to be pretty good at pissing him off; it kinda became a game with us.
The first time I saw him was blurry, I was reeling from the blow 'Sabertooth' had given be with that tree. The thing that stood out the most, though, was his visor. Well why the hell wouldn't it, it takes up half his face. The next time I saw him the professor introduced him as 'Scott Summers, also called Cyclops'. I was stunned. I think he stuck his hand out politely to be shaken but I can honestly say I didn't see it. I was looking at his face. So many angles with such classic beauty. The doc entering broke the spell though. I saw the look she sent Xavier and I was seriously confused. She was lusting after Wheels? I followed her progress with my eyes, she was definitely working it. I can remember the single thought that ran through my head then, Interesting.
The one thing I long for right now as I drive through the Rockies, is to see him smile. Not once when he and I were in the same room did I ever see him smile. No wait, he did smile, when I ripped into the metal detectors at the Statue of Liberty. I liked that smile, it lit up his whole face. I don't really know what I did but he seemed to hate me right away. Well not really hate but I suppose dislike. But if you look at it from a different point of view, I got to wear one of his leather suits. I wonder if he goes commando under those things?. It's definitely food for thought.
I've lived a long time, seen a lot and yes I've fucked a lot as well. Men, women, husbands, wives, whores and gentlefolk, I didn't discriminate. Every so often when I have a break from the nightmares I see some of those forgotten faces. Mostly I remember my wives and the man I cheated on one with. Silver Fox, Mariko and Ewan. I loved them equally as much but I suppose the love I had with Mariko and Silver Fox couldn't compare to that which I shared with Ewan. And now to add to that list of loved ones is Scott.
I never realized that there was someone out there who could compete with Ewan. He and I spent close on forty years together and I held him in my arms as I watched the last breath rattle in his throat. Now the memories I spent with him at my side are fading to be replaced with memories of Scott and how he smelled, how serious he looked when he put on the leather suit.
And the husky moans he made when I thrust into him.
My stay at the mansion was too frenzied to be called enjoyable but I took what I could. When I wasn't yearning for him I was worrying about Marie. She's like the sister I figure I never had, seeing as I can't remember if I even had parents, let alone siblings. She's almost a daughter really, because let's face it, who knows how old I really am? When I'm with her I always feel like I have to protect her and guide her, make sure she's safe and doing the right thing. But it's nothing compared to my feelings for Scott. To put it simply he's my other half. That day in the professor's office when I had him pulled close, I inhaled his scent and realized right then that his scent was the most intoxicating smell and that I had to have him, he was the one.
The one thing that upset my plans was the fact that he and Jean were an item, 'unofficially engaged' I heard some kids whispering. He was there at my door, filling my room with his scent and telling me to stay away from his girl. I should have just told him then and there it wasn't his girl I was after, it was him.
I think it was the relentless wanting of him that brought on the nightmare that night. I'd actually not had a nightmare for a few weeks before. I saw a glimpse of him over Marie's shoulder just before I collapsed, looking all sleepy and deliciously rumpled.
It was the image I woke up to only to find the professor sitting beside my bed, I can't tell you how much that freaked me out, but I think I hid it pretty well.
The best memory I have of Scott is the one we made together in the professor's office that last night. I was getting pissed off with his impudence and silent treatment so I decided to pick me a fight. He triggered it off with his reluctance to get me suited up, but I have to say he did have a point. Who was the most vulnerable person to Magneto but myself who happens to be a walking metal skeletal plaything for a guy who can manipulate metal? But admittedly I didn't think of that till later, at that moment I was just concerned with getting him back. So I mentioned the train station's recent deconstruction of its roof, he's still sore about that one. Then he brought up my stabbing of Rogue and I told him to shove it up his arse, only I never got that far because 'ro decided she'd barge in and announce that Senator Kelly had died. Who cares?!
Evidently the professor cared. He told us to settle it while he went to find Rogue on Cerebro. So Scott and I decided to settle it like men. Jean led the distraught Ororo off to her room and Scott and I 'settled' it. We had mind-blowing, furniture-moving, orgasm-shattering sex. Right there in the professor's office against the wall, on the carpet and eventually we actually made it to the couch. I don't know if he's ashamed of what we did, coz while we were rutting like animals, Wheel's was getting psychically blasted by the bad chemicals someone had injected into Cerebro.
They all looked so lost and childlike when they stood around his still body laid out in the med lab. I can't say I like sterile environments so I hightailed it outta there. Left them in privacy, I felt like an outsider. It's not a new feeling but when the group concerns Scott, I don't like it.
There's so much I'd like to know about him. Like how he came to be at Xavier's and what his life was like before. It couldn't have been easy for him, not with his kind of mutation; it's so destructive! I think I remember him talking to me whilst I was in a coma after Rogue zapped me for the second time. I remember hearing his voice and it was that sound which brought me back up from the darkness. I wanted to see his face, hear his voice and feel his hands on me. But it was Jean's hands that I woke to.
I think Xavier's done a lot to help Scott but there's so much uncertainty and cynicism in that perfect body of his. Also as much as it pains me to say it I think he has problems. His face was too gaunt and it had shadows that shouldn't have been there. Something's obviously troubling him and I put my money on Jean, that is if I had any money, which I don't. Jean has no feeling, she's insensitive. There's so much of Scott she just can't see and doesn't understand because she can't feel what he does. Everything and everyone to her is one big experiment. I swear I saw a smile on her lips as she was sticking needles in me. I suppose that's why she's lusting after the professor, he's just like her except I think he used to have feeling once, quite a lot. But it probably died when his old pal Eric became Magneto.
There's one thing to be thankful for in having a past you can't remember. I still have feelings. If I knew half the stuff I suspect I did, I'd be eaten up with guilt and I'd be out in the closest desert to become and emotional rock. All dried up and solid with nothing to soften it. I try to act like that and be the strong, silent type of guy who doesn't need anyone but the truth is I need people. I need touch. To touch and be touched. It helps to remind me that I'm not some kind of monster with long adamantium claws.
Scott was the first person in a long time to see me as a jackass for my arrogance and not just because I'd been engineered to be something I'm not.
It is there though, the killing instinct. It's always at the back of my mind, just waiting for the right amount to needling to break free and rip someone to shreds. I would have done that to Mystique, I almost did when she appeared in the guise of Storm. It took a shit load of self-control to stop myself from ripping her open like a Christmas cracker. That and the fact that I had no idea how I'd face Scott when he found out. I could almost see him looking down at me with disapproval written all over his face and his body stiff and turned away from me. I couldn't handle that.
Anyone else, Jean I don't give a shit about, 'ro's a weakling and Xavier's living in a dream world, but if Scott looked at me in anything other than anger, love and lust then I don't know what I'd do.
There's so much of him that I have yet to unfold, so much more to take in. He's a bit of a mystery and I like that about him. He comes across as the fearless leader with a steel rod shoved up his arse but I know better than most what's been up that arse and I can tell you there is no steel rod. Well there was my steel rod and I don't remember hearing any complaints, in fact all I remember were his husky cries of 'harder', 'fuck me!' and the best one, 'Logan!'. He screamed my name out as he reached orgasm. Never has my name sounded so sweet on anyone's lips. I regret the way we started things. I'd actually hoped when he came to me room that first night that that was the reason he was at my door looking soft and inviting.
Maybe it was, I don't know.
This is no good, this craving. As soon as I reach this abandoned military base and have a bit of a sniff around, I'm going straight back to Xavier's and I don't care who's around, I'm going to go right up to Cyke and kiss him till he's gasping for air! I wish I could do it right now, just give up on my past, on finding out those answers I know I'm going to regret ever unearthing. But for him I'd do anything, for just one smile, one look of affection or caring on his face. I remember it was the look he was trying to hide when I woke up. He came to my room after Jean had let me out of her lab and tried not to look like his heart was bleeding.
I could see he was uncomfortable and nervous, I could smell it, and I just had no idea why. He'd knocked lightly and opened the door to find me packing up the clothing that he and Xavier had lent me. He just stood there looking lost, confused and I hate to admit it but he looked hurt. I'd gruffly told him I had stuff to do. He asked me not to go. I loved that. He'd just stood there and looked at me, then he just blurted it out. 'Stay'. God how I would have liked to if I hadn't set myself this goal of finding out about my past, how bad I really was. Coz it sure confused the hell outta me when total strangers recognize me and run screaming in the other direction.
But I had to go and I told him so. He tried hard but he couldn't mask his pain. I could smell him, I'd become so attuned to him that I could almost tell what he was feeling before he did. If I find something horrible out here in the Canadian wilderness, I'd just like to go remembering him and those days I sent in his presence. Because he became a part of me in those short days and whether he knows it or not, he's got a part of me as well. There's a part of me back at the mansion, yearning to be whole again, to embrace the purity of him. To love him, and I want him to know it.

 

Look out for the sequel: what happens when Logan returns and what did he find in Canada? Will this affect his relationship and feelings for Scott?

Go on to Those Things You Do