Yours Ever More

BY : LelianeMirelen
Category: X-Men: (All Movies) > Slash - Male/Male > Logan/Scott
Dragon prints: 7994
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the X-Men movies, or any of the characters from them. I make no money from from the writing of this story.

Yours Ever More

A/N And Disclaimer: This is really dark, and my first slash fic, so it’ll be really bad. There’s some reference to het sex, and semi-graphic slash sex. I don’t own these characters and they are nothing like they wobe ibe in the movies, or comics, or whatever. I would also like to say that the song not not belong to me either. They belong to Evanescence. The characters belong to Marvel. I’m just having fun. Don’t sue me!!!

He was still in shock. Two months after it had all happened and he still couldn’t move on. The others had. Then again, it hadn’t been their faults.

Scott Summers, called Cyclops, groaned and rolled over yet again. He wasn’t sleeping. He wasn’t really eating. No one noticed. The whole team seemed content to live the lie.

All the people. . .The mission had been going well. They’d been able to free the captive mutants from their cells. However, he hadn’t seen the cave-in coming. Wolverine had warned him, but he hadn’t listened. They were all dead now.

Ever since, no one had come near him. They’d left him alone. Jean. . .Jean had left him too. Now he was left to face his guilt and pain alone, without support or comfort. She’d been all he was living for. What had he to live for now?

He sighed and gave up on sleeping. He reached for his bedside and put on the ruby quartz glasses that kept the power his eyes gave off in check. He got off the bed and stood up. He stood over six feet tall, with tan skin, brown hair, and a swimmer’s build. What did it matter in the long run?

He’d put on a mask since a week after the incident, since he’d realized he was alone. He’d hidden behind the exterior Cyclops. Inside, and behind closed doors, he was a wreck. No one would be able to distinguish the pitiful creature that looked like a man as the leader of the X-Men, strong and unbending. No one saw past his face. Either he hid that well, or they didn’t want to see. He’d hidden. . .Only one noticed. . .

He shuddered as the shadow that lurked in his mind threatened to surface. He turned his mind away.

What really destroyed him was the way the team, his so-called friends, had reacted to him afterwards. Jean, now called Phoenix, his lover and best friend, had left him totally alone. That had hurt the most. Ororo, named Storm, and Bobby, known as Iceman, left the room abruptly whenever he entered. Marie, also known as Rogue, still spoke to him, but it was easy to see she was uncomfortable. Even Kurt, known by Nightcrawler, disappeared whenever he was near. He hadn’t even seen Professor Xavier to figure his reaction.

Scott leaned against the wall, head and hands the only things touching it. Why shouldn’t they act as they did? Why shouldn’t they avoid him? He was unclean, his hands covered in the blood of innocents. He had failed. He clenched his hands, relaxed them. Having had enoughthisthis room where thoughts of Jean and the incident and the team abounded, he grabbed a shirt and walked out to cool off a little.

He wandered aimlessly through the darkened, silent halls of the only place that mattered to him. The shadows that laid everywhere led the shadow in his mind to surface. Logan. Wolverine. Ever since the others had started avoiding him, the lone Wolverine had begun to stare at him with a feral hunger that sent shivers down his spine. He knew that if Wolverine were to try something, he’d succeed. Scott was just no match for Wolverine’s strength and adamantium claws at close range.

He stopped. As though his thoughts had summoned him, Wolverine stepped out of the shadows he’d been clinging to. “Very good, Cyclops, didn’t think you’d hear me.”

Scott turned around slowly. “What do you want, Logan?” he demanded with all the authority he could muster. There was no way he was showing his fear, though Wolverine could probably smell it on him.

Logan ignored the question and stared at him, his eyes unreadable. “You’re a study in Stoicism,” he remarked in wonder. “Nothing shown on your face at all.”

“I’m surprised you know the word,” Scott shot back. He was really scared now.

Logan ignored his comment. “Are you scared, Scott?” he asked softly, and continued without waiting for a response. “Yes, of course you are. You won’t admit it, will you? I can smell it, though. . . You’re terrified.”

Scott backed up against the wall, his fear increasing ten-fold as Logan pressed against him. “What do you want?” he demanded again, a tremble in his voice now.

Logan put a finger to Scott’s lips, running it along them. He spoke one word that terrified Scott more than any physical threat could have; “You.”

Before he knew what was happening, Logan had spun him around and pressed him against the wall. In a fit of terror, Scott knew what Logan was going to do to him. He opened his mouth to call for help, but Logan clamped his hand over it. “One scream, Cyclops, and I’ll make sure you bleed like a mother-fucker, but that you don’t die.”

Scott heard Logan’s claws pop out, and squeezed his eyes shut as they tore through the light, loose clothing he wore to sleep. He was thrown back to his teen years, before the Institute, when he’d only been able to survive by being a whore. Didn’t Logan know what he was doing?

Without realizing what he was doing, he sta ple pleading with Logan. “Please, please, Logan, you don’t know what you’re doing, please don’t do this to me. . .”

He was cut off as Logan spun him around again and slapped him. “Shut up, Scott.” He spun him back around. Scott heard Logan fidgeting with his own clothing. He began to shake and sob. Logan didn’t do anything, so he figured he was safe. The slap was still stinging.

He felt Logan enter him, and moaned in pain as Logan fucked him, raped him. He couldn’t stop the sobs that poured out of him. It hurt so much. . .

After a time, Logan finished with him, replaced his own clothing, and just left Scott where he was, shivering, sobbing, and without any kind of protection against the cold night.

Scott stood there until he was sure Logan was gone, then grabbed the shredded remains of his clothing and ran back to his room, locking the door behind him. He grabbed new sweatpants, not able to stop the tears now. Why, oh why, had he left his room? He should have known better! He didn’t come out at all the next day.

The next morning, hard brown eyes watched from the shadows they inhabited as the X-Men tried to convince their leader to come out from hiding. Shadows of a conscience long suppressed softened those eyes as vivid images rose in his mind, images of what the animal in him had done, what he had done, to the only person he’d ever love. He slipped off quietly. He had no right to be
here.

Scott curled up in his blankets, shaking and crying. He hadn’t been able to stop from that first flood of tears. Images of last night erupted in his mind, coupled with the pain of his losses. The pain, the humiliation. . .it was all too much. He’d known Logan would do something. He hadn’t known it would be that. He couldn’t fight Logan, wasn’t sure he even wanted to, anyway. Logan had just given him something he needed, yet had been deprived of for two months; touch.

All the pain caught up to him again, the tears came harder. He considered the escape route he’d planned shortly after returning from the failed mission.

I’m so tired of being here,
Suppressed by all my childish fears.
And if you have to leave,
I wish that you would just leave,
‘Cuz your presence still lingers here
And it won’t leave me alone,
These wounds won’t seem to heal,
This pain is just too real
There’s just too much
That time cannot erase.

He thought about the team, his friends. houghought about Jean, and all she’d done for him, all she’d meant to him.

When you cried, I’d wipe away all of your tears.
When you’d scream, I’d fight away all of your fears.
And I held your hand through all of these years,
But you still have all of me.

Where was she when he needed her the most? The tears came in a fresh wave. He couldn’t take this, couldn’t deal with it. Oh, Jean. . .

You used to captivate me by your resonating light
But now I’m bound by the life you left behind.
Your face, it haunts my once pleasant dreams.
Your voice, it chased away all the sanity in me.
-My Immor
H
He reached for his bedside, and for the knife he’d placed there in case he ever needed an exit. In case of this. He was done with this. He couldn’t put up with the constant pain, and guilt any more. It was time to end it.

When Jean came to him for help in getting to Scott, he laughed off her concerns at first. Fearless Leader? Boy Scouting Fearless Leader, commit suicide? It didn’t fit. Then he remembered the tears he’d smelled before he’d taken the other man, tears he’d smelled, but ignored. How could he have been so blind?

Filled with a need to get to him, to save him from what he was about to do to himself, Logan ran with single-minded intensity to Scott’s room. Without even bothering to knock, he sliced the doorknob clean off and kicked the door open. He was! Oh, shit, oh FUCK, what was he going to do now?!?

Scott had the knife at his chest and was about to plunge it in when the door burst open. He panicked for a second, then relaxed when Jean entered.
Logan wouldn’t do anything in front of her.

Logan was shocked. Scott looked horrible. His face was streaked with tears and he wasn’t wearing a shirt. The light revealed what the night had hidden; he was thinner than Logan remembered and thought he should be. He hadn’t been eating. He knew that he had sparked this suicidal tinge. He hadn’t put it there; this was too well thought out for it to have been his fault, but he had given it flame.

“Scott,” Jean said. “Put the knife down, sweetie.” He shook his head violently. “Why not?” she asked softly.

“I am SO sick of this shit! You all avoid ike ike the plague! How the hell am I supposed to feel about that? I need you more than ever, and you abandon me! I thought you cared more than that! I know it’s my fault! I kn kil killed them! All the mother-fucking guilt. . .” The tears came again. He didn’t bother hiding them. It was all going to end.

The knife shook in his hands. It remained a threat to his life.

Jean spoke to him soothingly, trying to calm him. Logan sat on the sidelines, unsure that he could help. He noticed that the hallway was curiously empty.
Eventually, Jean succeeded in her goal to get Scott to lower the knife. He went and took a shower. She didn’t touch him. He died even more inside.

The next day, people resumed their lives. Nothing was the same for Scott. They all knew now.

Long lost words whisper slowly to me
Still can’t find what keeps me here.
And all this time I’ve been so hollow inside.

He didn’t see Logan at all, didn’t bother looking for him. Scott knew he was there. Like the shadows in his heart, Logan was watching, waiting, wanting. He still couldn’t find the strength to leave.

I know you’re still there,
Watching me, wanting me,
I can feel you pull me down.
Fearing you, loving you,
I know I’ll fight you somehow.
-Haunted

he asked himself, over and over. It would be so easy to run away from it all. Truth was, it was Logan that kept him there. Wolverine captivated him. Scott was terrified by him, yet intoxicated by him. He couldn’t figure it out.

A few weeks after Logan raped him, which he’d told no one about, he found the courage to leave his room again for the solitude and escape offered by the halls. Later, he wondered if he entered the halls because he knew what was coming, and craved it. It still terrified him.

He heard Logan, froze in fear. Wolverine came up behind him. Scott could feel him there. “I’ve been wondering when you’d come out again,” he whispered.

Logan pushed Scott against the wall again. Scott begged him not to rape him again, he didn’t know what he was doing, what it was doing to him. Logan slapped him, hard, told him he’d cut him up if he didn’t shut up. Scott sobbed as Logan cut through his clothing again. He bore Logan’s invasion as best he could, and ran back to his room when Logan was done. He cried himself to sleep that night.

Months after that, Scott still hadn’t found the courage to leave his room again. However, one night found him sitting in an empty classroom, crying his eyes out against the teacher’s desk.

I tried to kill the pain,
But only brought more.
I lay dying, and I’m pouring
Crimson regret and betrayal

He heard the door open, didn’t bother to turn around. He knew it was Logan, knew Logan would force him again. He stayed where he was and let the tears take over. He couldn’t escape Wolverine.

I’m dying, praying, bleeding, screaming.

Logan surprised him by putting his arms around him, offering comfort and support. Against every instinct, he turned into the embrace.

Am I too lost to be saved? Am I too lost?

“Kill me,” he begged the man holding him. “Please.” He heard Logan’s claws come out. “Save me.” Logan shook his head.

My God, my tourniquet
Return to me salvation

“I can’t deal with this pain!” Scott screamed at him. “Either you kill me, or I will. Free me, now, please!” Scott felt Logan’s hesitation, felt him draw the claws back.

“You sure?”

Scott nodded, and Logan ran him through. “Thank you,” he choked out. Logan said nothing, only held him and offered what he could as Scott died. He was free at last. Free from pain, from guilt, and from betrayal.

My God, my tourniquet
Return to me salvation.
My wounds cry for the grave,
My soul cries for deliverance.
Will I be denied Christ?
Tourniquet, my suicide.
-Tourniquet

That was how the team found them; Logan holding Scott’s cold, lifeless body, rocking him slowly, gently. They saw the marks on their beloved leader’s chest and started screaming at his killer. How could he? How dare he? Didn’t he care at all?

“Yes, I care,” Logan said quietly. “I loved him, probably better than any of ya. I ended his pain, relieved him of the hardships he was facing, that you were putting on him. I ended the pain you caused him.”
That shut them up. They had no answer. It was the truth, and how do you fight that?

Sixteen years later, nothing much changed. Phoenix was elected the new Fearless Leader. Logan liked to keep to himself. No one stopped him. They were all mad at him; mad that he’d done what they could not.

There was a forest near the Institute Logan liked to walk in. He was there more than he was at the Institute itself. It was usually very quiet. He could let the animal in him loose a little without fear of hurting anyone. Like he’d hurt Scott. He shook the thought off. The woods were deserted. Usually.

That wasn’t so today. He heard the sounds of a chase. The prey was clumsy, either blind or wounded. He followed the sounds of the prey, knowing the predators wouldn’t be far behind.

A boy crashed into him. The boy had his eyes squeezed shut. Thirty seconds later, the people chasing him burst into Logan’s little stand. Five seconds later, they were running for their lives. It was always smart to run from an angry Wolverine.

Logan looked at the kid who’d run into him. He was very familiar; from the brown hair to the way he had his eyes closed. “What’s your name, kid?” he asked.

“Scott,” came the defiant reply. Yes, thice ice was familiar, the attitude.
“Well, Scott, it’s a pleasure,” he said. “I’m Logan. Mind if I ask why your eyes are closed?”

“If they’re not, they shoot red beams that kill people.”

“That why the police after you?” The boy nodded. “How old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

“How long you had these beams?”

“Two hours.”

“C’mon, kid. I know some people that’ll help you.”

He led the boy back to the Institute. The othersdilydily accepted him. It was as though they thought, through him, they could make up what they’d done to Cyclops. When they thought they might call him that, he violently rejected it. He insisted he wanted to be calPhanPhantom. They accepted his choice.

Over the next two years, Logan watched from the shadows as the boy grew into a man. He grew to accept himself and what he could do. He looked and sounded exactly like Cyclops. He used Cyclops’ visor and glasses. In all other respects, it was as though he was trying not to be Cyclops. He was exactly the opposite of everything Boy Scout Scott Summers had been. Logan saw right through him. He wondered why the boy was trying so hard to deny his nature.
Almost two weeks after Phantom turned eighteen, he woke up screaming and didn’t stop for anything.

Jean walked out of the boy’s room. He was quiet, but she hadn’t made any progress in finding out what had caused it. Logan asked.

Jean sighed and looked at him. “You haven’t done anything to him, have you?”

“No,” Logan replied, puzzled. “Why?”

“He keeps going on about how we betrayed him and you raped him.”

Logan suddenly had a sneaking suspicion that he had, in fact, done something to him. “I’ll talk to him,” he assured her. She gave him a tired smile and walked off.

Taking a breath, he stepped into the room, wondering what awaited him.

Scott saw Logan enter, his blood rose as did his fear. He started shooting at Wolverine, catching the older man by surprise. Much to Scott’s disappointment, though, Logan was able to dodge hissts.sts.

“Scott! Wait!” Logan called. “Just let me talk to ya, then you can blast the shit outta me if that’s what ya wanna do!” The blasts stopped, for now.

Logan moved cautiously over to the bed the boy was still sitting on. Now he could see three marks on his chest; marks he himself had put there when he’d ended the tortured life of Scott “Cyclops” Summers. A lot was starting to make sense now.

“I just woke up and remembered,” Scott said, breaking into his reverie. “I mean, that’s what I was dreaming about, that’s what woke me up. I saw you come in, and I got so scared. I was screaming at Jean because I guess I thought I was still Cyclops. Sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize. Totally understandable. Don’t worry about it. I’d be scared too, still hurtin’. This why you’ve been fightin’ your nature? Everythin’ you are and. . . were?”

Scott nodded. Logan thought he smelled tears, so he put his arms around the boy. Scott stiffened, and Logan thought he was going to pull away, but after a moment, he snuggled further into Logan’s arms.

“I loved ya the whole time, ya know,” he said to the boy, stroking his hair. “From the first moment I saw ya, I knew I wanted to be with ya.”

“Then why. . .?” Scott began, but left the question unfinished. Logan knew what he was asking anyway.

“I’m an animal.”

That wasn’t the response Scott had been expecting. Suddenly, he wanted to kiss Logan more than anything, make him know that it was all all right now.

“Then I’ll tame you.” He gave up fighting. He did what he wanted to; he kissed Wolverine.

Scott’s kiss caught Logan totally off guard. It was full of wild abandon, complete passion, and utter devotion. Logan had never had those things directed at him before. He pulled Scott closer as he eased his tongue into the boy’s- man’s- mouth.

Scott’s body exploded with desire, his heart soared with love. How could anything be more perfect than this?

Logan eased Scott down onto the bed they were sitting on, taking control here. No doubt the boy was experienced, but he was older. He undressed Scott slowly, taking his time, touchind knd kissing as he went along. It left his lover breathless and speechless, the latter of which was a rare occurrence in any life.

Not allowing Scott to get up, he stripped for him, slowly removing his own clothing, enjoying the look on what he could see of Scott’s face. His clothing removed, he paused to take in the beautiful man he was about to feast .
B.
Both men were already hard. Logan took Scott into his hands and made him harder. Scott moaned and wriggled beneath Logan in such a way that made him want Scott more.

Cursing he told Scott to flip over. Smiling, the young man complied. Logan looked around for something he could use for lubrication. He didn’t want to hurt his lover. His eyes settled on Vaseline. Not his first choice, but it would have to do. He put some on his fingers and started moving them in and out.

Scott moaned as Logan’s fingers opened him. He was vulnerable to this man now, but knew Logan wouldn’t hurt him. He gasped then moaned again as Logan slid his cock into him. He whimpered with need. Logan got the message. He wrapped his hand around Scott’s cock and started to move.

It took a little time, but they both came, and both lay exhausted afterwards.
That had been something else for both of them. Logan was still embedded in Scott.

“Hey, Logan?”

“Don’t bug me, I’m enjoying this.”

Scott ignored him. “Remember how you always used to say I had a steel rod jammed up my ass?”

Logan grunted his assent. “Well, now I do.” It took Logan a minute to figure out what Scott was talking about, then he laughed as he eased himself out. He lay next to Scott, pulled the younger man his his arms, and stroked his hair softly.

As Scott fell asleep in Logan’s embrace, he reflected that during that horrible time of his last life, he never would have imagined Logan would save him like this.

Frozen inside without your touch,
Without your love, darling.
Only you hold the life
Among the dead.
-Bring Me to Life

Scott explained the ruckus of that night away as a very real nightmare, which was half true; it had begun like that. He and Logan couldn’t keep away from each other. It was like they were addicted. They fell ever more in love.

I believe in you
I’ll give up everything just to find you
I have to be with you
To live, to breathe
You’re taking over me.
-Taking Over Me

A point came where, finally, the X-Men couldn’t deny the truth that lay right before their eyes; Cyclops and Phantom were one and the same. Phoenix felt horrible that Scott hadn’t been able to come to her for love and support, had instead turned to someone he was purported to hate.

Scott had known it was inevitable. He knew that once the rumors were confirmed, Professor Xavier would want to see him. He wasn’t surprised at all when the call came.

The conversation started out rational enough, then turned slowly into a screaming match. There was lots of swearing on Scott’s part (Logan would have been proud to hear some of his favorites used), showing just how much he’d changed. An accusation that Logan was having a bad effect on him was the last straw. Scott stormed out and packed to leave. He made sure he had his black glasses.

As he was leaving the forest, he ran into the last person he wanted to see: his lover. Logan surveyed him and came to a conclusion.

“Runnin’?”

“Yeah. Since they found out who I really am, I can’t take it.”

“The Prof?”

“Yeah. You would’ve been proud of some of the stuff I said.”

Logan looked at him tenderly. “I’m proud of ya anyway, kid.” The hard look returned. Scott knew what he was going to say next. “I’m comin’ with ya.”

“You wish,” Scott said, laughing. “Look,” he continued, seeing the hurt look on Wolverine’s face, “I need to be alone for a while, get over all this. I’ll come back, eventually. When my restless feet decide to wander no more.”

“Poetry?”

“Nah, spur of the moment. You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah. Love ya too, kid.”

They shared one last, long kiss before Scott started to make his way out of Logan’s life. “Keep in touch, yeah kid?”

Scott smiled at him. “If it’s possible. I don’t know where I’m goin’.” Logan nodded. That was all he was getting. He’d take it.

Scott had to admit it to himself, if no one else. He knew where he was going to end up, didn’t want to subject Logan to that. Logan was too good for that. He dropped the quartz glasses, put on the black ones in their place. He was blind now, in so many ways.

Two more years passed, no word from Scott. Well, maybe he couldn’t get to paper. Maybe he was somewhere in the wilderness, having a grand old time. Maybe he was in trouble. Logan preferred not to think of the last one. He really missed Scott, no matter how he tried to forget; the first person he’d ever truly missed.

Try to forget you
But without you I feel nothing
Don’t leave me here by myself
I can’t breathe
I run to you
Call out your name
I see you there
Farther away

Nights were always the worst. He always ended up dreaming of Scott, waking up in cold sweats on cold, lonely nights.

I reach but I feel only air at night
Not you, not love, just nothing.
-Farther Away

Finally, Phoenix found a mission for him to go off on. It wasn’t anything hard, or stressful, just enough to get him out for a while. Enough for a break from the memories. Scott. . .

Logan pulled out Scott’s quartz sunglasses, and put them on. He’d found them on the edge of his forest. They had doubly worried him; they meant that Scott was facing the wide, cruel world blind. Logan knew better than most how cruel the world could truly be.

Scott peddled his body. He’d tried other things; no one would take a blind man. Prostitution was the only way to live. He slept outside, ate what he could, which wasn’t much. He slept with so many people; he couldn’t even begin to remember their voices. Logan filled his mind. No way to contact him. Scott was well and truly alone.

Logan sighed, remembering. He still had Scott’s visor, too. He couldn’t bear parting with that either. That and the glasses were all he had left of his lost lover.

His mission long since completed, he had no idea why he stayed. Later he’d wonder if it was instinctive awareness, a premonition, or even some damn psychic link thing that kept him from leaving. He cruised the streets in the middle of the night, restless. Whores were everywhere. He looked at their faces, wondered what was going through their minds as they made the only living they could. Scott had told him about his years as a whore, how awful it had been. How hard, and lonely. He pitied them all.

One caught his eye. It was a familiar build in the shadows. He thought about taking this one back to his room. He reminded him of Scott. Wait, he knew that smell. . . Oh. Logan’s heart clenched as he realized why Scott hadn’t really wanted him to come. He hadn’t wanted Logan exposed to life as a whore. It seemed Logan had found his lover at last.

Gruffly, he grabbed the boy’s elbow, led him silently back to his hotel room. Scott was not afraid; he was resigned. He clenched his teeth and cursed whatever it was that had made Scott have to live like this.

He let go of Scott’s elbow, turned to face him. He was almost exactly the same, but lots thinner. Lots thinner. He hadn’t been eating.

“What the hell are you doin’?” Logan demanded.

“Logan?” Scott was incredulous. “What are you doing here?”

“Mission. Answer me. What the fuck do you think you’re doin’?!?”

Scott turned away. “No one will hire a blind man, except those who want cheap sex. I had nothing else to do, Logan.”

“You could have come back. I would have helped you.”

“I know you would have. I had no way to contact you, and I was too weak to make the journey back. I had two choices; prostitution and life, however horrible, or starvation and death. I chose life.”

“You won’t have to anymore.” He took Scott’s face in his right hand, caressed his cheek with his thumb. “After I report in, I can disappear. I can take care of ya; get a different name, a job, an apartment. Ya don’t have to do this. I know ya don’t want to go back. Ya don’t have to. Let me take care of ya.”

Scott smiled sadly. “Logan, they need you.”

“Ya have two choices here, Scott. Either I go back and ya come with me, or we disappear together. I am not leavin’ ya again, not now that I see the hell ya live in. I care to much for that.”

Scott shook his head, smiling, tears leaking from his eyes. “Let’s disappear, Logan.”

“Good.” Logan turned away and pulled his shirt off. “Now, take off your clothes. I am goin’ to make love to ya. Ya don’t get a choice in that. I missed ya too much.”

Scott grinned at him and complied.

Logan reported in once more, never again. He took Scott and ran. They went to a different city, got different names. Logan got a job and found them an apartment. Scott did what he could to help, but Logan wouldn’t let him be a whore again.

Their appearances changed. Scott was thinner; his skin was lighter from being in the night so much. His hair was longer, and with length came lighter color. Logan had also grown his hair out a little, not much. He’d also taken to shaving differently.

They lived happily for three years, living, laughing, loving, having fun, making love. It was their idea of heaven. Then came the crackdown on mutants.

Logan walked in, locked the door behind him. “Honey,” he called, “I’m home!” It was an old joke between them. Normally Scott would come running as fast as he could, asking about Logan’s day and all that jazz.

The apartment was silent. Logan worried a little. Was Scott all right? He hadn’t brought someone home had he? Even worse; had he gone somewhere else to try and earn some money? Feeling more anxious with every step, he began to search the apartment.

He found Scott in the bedroom, curled up asleep, music playing somewhere. Neither could live without it. Logan smiled and relaxed. Scott was so cute asleep. He fixed Scott into a more comfortable position, reveling in the feel of his lover’s skin, and covered him with a blanket. Logan kissed Scott’s forehead softly before hitting the shower.

After showering, he went and curled up around Scott, ready for a good night’s sleep. He drifted off. . .

. . .Only to be woken up about four hours later by someone pounding on the door. Logan groaned as he stood and grabbed a shirt.

The pounding continued. “Yeah, yeah, asshole, I hear ya.” He stumbled over to the door. Scott was better at this moving without sight. Dammit.

He opened it, still rubbing his eyes. “Yeah? Whaddaya want?” he demanded. He didn’t take well to having sleep interrupted.

“Hello, Wolverine,” said a familiar, heavily accented voice. “You’ve been a hard one to track down.”

“Stryker,” Logan growled, fully awake now. He was in full protection mode. He knew the man had come for mutants. He wasn’t getting Scott. “Aren’t you supposed to be dead? What the fuck do you want?”

“It’s time to come home, Wolverine,” Stryker said softly. “Mutants are illegal.”

Logan swore violently. “My name’s Logan, asshole!”

Scott heard the pounding, followed by the loss of Logan’s body heat at his side. He groaned in objection. Logan didn’t hear him. As he drifted back to sleep, he heard Logan growl; that woke him up. He grabbed his glasses and went to see what the hell was going on.

“Logan?” he asked when he reached the door.

“Go back to bed, Scott.” Logan’s voice was hard and brooked no argument.

“Another mutant?” came a voice that Scott remembered. That man had tried to make him kill Jean. Stryker. Wasn’t he supposed to be dead?

“No,” Logan said. “My blind lover. He doesn’t know. Leave him out of this.”

Scott saw the part he was supposed to play. “Mutant?” he asked as if the word had just sunk in. “What about them?”

“You didn’t know Wolverine was a mutant?” Stryker asked.

“Wolverine? Logan, what the hell is going on?”

“I’m sorry, Scott. I couldn’t tell you. I didn’t want you to hate me.”

“How could you do this to me?” he screamed with real anguish. Scott had known Logan was a mutant, hell he was one too. He was asking how Logan could leave him like this.

“There, there, boy,” Stryker consoled. “We’re takin’ him away. You’ll be all right now.” Very real tears streamed down his cheeks as he realized there was no way he could get Logan out. He sank to the floor, buried his face in his hands, and sobbed. Stryker bought it. There was movement, the sound of the door closing, then silence.

Logan was gone.

He was alone again.

Scott pushed himself up, wiped his tears away. He thought about what to do. His heart screamed to rescue Logan. How?

Of course! Stryker had taken him under control because he was so deadly; because Stryker was afraid of him. He’d have to become Cyclops again. He’d have to resume that horrible existence to save the man he loved.
He went back to their bedroom and searched Logan’s things. Logan had never told him, but Scott knew Logan would have kept at least his visor, and probably his glasses just in case. He found his glasses first, took those, put them on. Then he went into the bathroom, shaved, cut his hair. He grabbed black clothing, which was pretty much all he wore anyway. He looked in the mirror, saw the proud, flawless leader of the X-Men looking back at him. There was only one thing missing if he was going to do this right. He rummaged through Logan’s drawer one more time, and found his visor.

There. Now Cyclops was back. Just for a little while.

He walked out, confident. It was the middle of the night, no one was out. He exited without complications.

First thing he noticed when he stepped outside was the X-Men. They were standing near the building, looking slightly worse for the wear. They must have fought Stryker. He owed them that. They were conversing, but stopped when they caught sight of him. Jean moved up to him timidly.

“Scott, we’re sorry,” she said softly touching his arm. “We. . .”

“You knew,” he accused.

“Yes, but. . .Wait! Let me explain!” Scott was walking away. He stopped, but didn’t turn. “Look, Scott, we’ve been watching Stryker for a while now. We knew he was after mutants, after Logan. We knew where Stryker was based, where he was, and we have the layouts of his base. What we didn’t know was where Logan was. We found out too late, we couldn’t warn him. We tried to fight, Scott, honest. We tried.”

“I see that,” he told her, “and I appreciate it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a rescue to plan and manage.” He started to walk again.

“Let us help,” she pleaded.

Scott reflected. He was almost certain he couldn’t do it alone. Here they were, offering assistance he needed. The only problem was his history with them.

He thought, then nodded. Jean sighed with relief.

They took him to the jet, got him a uniform. He felt really weird in it, it had been so long since he’d worn it. It was a little painful, especially since it was just this once.

Once they were in the air, everyone looked at Scott, who was studying the layouts for Stryker’s base. He noticed, but kept looking at the layouts. Already a plan was forming in a mind that was well trained for this kind of thing. They expected him to lead. Fine. It was his lover in jeopardy, after all.

He turned to them after a few more minutes and outlined the plan he’d come up with. They all nodded in agreement and set about making it happen. Scott sighed. This was exactly what he hadn’t wanted. Jean was supposed to be in charge. He was supposed to do his part, then leave with Logan. Why was everything so complicated?

His plan was two-fold; he, Rogue and Storm would crawl through the ventilation shaft while all the others created a distraction. They would rescue Logan and then leave. The others would be shortly behind, or that was the plan. He had the feeling Stryker would figure it out, prepare for it.

According to plan, alarms started going off as they reached the vent that led to Logan’s cage. Also according to plan, all but two guards left to go find the trouble.

On Scott’s mark, they dropped through the vent and dispatched with the two guards easily. Then they opened up Logan’s cage and got him out. He seemed to be fine, but very pissed off. He gave Scott a quick kiss and Rogue a hug before they ran out the planned exit route, and met up with the others.

The halls were curiously empty.

They burst out through the only exit in the building. . .and were faced with most of Stryker’s army. That explained the emptiness inside.

“Give up, Cyclops!” Stryker called gloatingly. “You can’t win this one!”

“Watch me!” Filled with rage at what had been done to his precious lover, he turned his visor’s intensity up all the way and let loose at various parts of the army. They were done before they ever knew what hit them. This was very near the full raw power that Scott’s deadly eyes wielded.

Unfortunately, Stryker had planned for just such an eventuality. There was a platoon of snipers hidden nearby, and they filled Scott with lead before anyone knew what was happening. He felt very little. To Logan, it seemed he fell in slow motion. He screamed Scott’s name in anguish and fear. That triggered everyone else to get involved. Battle raged around him.

Logan ran to his fallen lover, who had risked so much to come and get him. “Scott,” he sobbed, “please, darlin’, talk to me!”

“Logan,” Scott choked out. “It’s okay. It’s all okay. You’ll be fine.” His sight was blurring, he was having a hard time seeing and talking. “Hold me,” he requestend Lnd Logan complied. Scott was bleeding so slowly. . .

Hold on to me, love
You know I can’t stay long
All I wanted to say was
I love you and I’m not afraid.

The battle soon finished, mutants victorious. They crowded around the couple. There was nothing to say, nothing they could do. Jean turned away. Even as a doctor, there was nothing she could do. She could tell by Scott’s words and labored breath that the bullets had punctured his lungs. She thought they’d probably gotten at his heart, too. She couldn’t save him.

Logan prayed to every deity he could think of. Spare him, he prayed desperately, practically begging. Let him live.

Can you hear me?
Can you feel me in your arms?

“I. . .love you,” Scott told Logan.

“Love ya, too, Boy Scout,” Logan sobbed, using words he rarely did. He’d told Scott he loved him only twice before.

Scott smiled a little at the use of his old nickname. He reached up and wiped away Logan’s tears. “Don’t cry,” he said, panting. “Don’t be afraid. I’m not. You’ll be okay.” Every word was torture, though he tried not to show it. Logan turned and yelled at Jean to do something. He heard Jean say there was nothing she could do. She had no tools, and to move him was to kill him.
They could go back and get the necessary equipment, but Scott would be dead long before they returned.

Hng mng my last breath
Safe inside myself
Are all my thoughts of you
Sweet raptured light,
It ends here tonight

Logan told her to go get them. He turned back to Scott as she left. Everyone
else stayed. “You’ll be okay, Scott,” Logan encouraged. “Just hold on, and Jeannie will be back.”

Scott shook his head a little, smiled at his lover. “It ends here for me, love. Thank you.”

“For what?” Logan snorted. “Lettin’ ya die when I could have been, should have been protectin’ ya?”

“Don’t blame yourself!” Scott said, regaining a little of Fearless Leader for a moment before fading back into Scott who was trying to keep every word even. “That’s not what I meant. I meant thank you for loving me and for being there when no one else was. You took care of me.”

“Oh, that was nothin’,” Logan told him. “You tamed me, showed me how to love.”

“Then have someone else tame you, love you,” Scott pleases. “Tell me, promise me youfindfind someone. Let me die knowing you won’t mourn your whole life, that you’ll be taken care of.”

“You’re not gonna die!” Logan almost shouted. “You’re gonna be okay! Hold on, please!”

I know you hear me
I can taste it in your tears.

“I can’t. It’s over for me. You’ll be all right.”

“No, I won’t! Ya can’t leave me! I need ya! I can’t even sleep without ya next to me! Oh, please Scott, don’t leave me alone.”

“Let me leave you with a mission,” Scott whispered. It was so hard to talk. He was coming close to what would be his last words. He turned his head slightly toward the X-Men. “They need strength, a warrior, a leader. You.” He coughed violently, blood pouring from his mouth when it was coming ever so slowly from the holes in his body.

Closing your eyes to disappear
You pray your dreams will leave you here
But still you wake and know the truth
No one’s there.


“Take. . .care. . .of. . .them. Don’t. . .do. . .anything. . . I wouldn’t.” His bh wah was labored, the words were hard to get out.

“Scott. . .”

“Good. . .night, Logan.” He breathed in Logan’s scent one last time, fixed his eyes on his lover’s face, and was still. Logan’s sobs broke loose. The only person he could ever remember truly loving was gone forever. Scott wasn’t coming back this time. He knew it.

Bobby gently took Scott’s body away, and Ororo put an arm around Logan to lead him to where they would wait for Jean. As Bobby lifted Scott - as sas so light! – Logan grabbed the visor Scott still wore and threw it as far as he could. “Don’t bury him in that,” he growled savagely. “It’s been his prison for too long.” Scott’s eyes were exposed to his friends for the first time and last time. They were the most exquisite blue. How marvelous they must have been in life if now, glazed over in death, they were this beautiful. The sobs taking hold again, Logan closed Scott’s eyes for the last time.

Say goodnight
Don’t be afraid
Calling me, calling me
As you fade to black.
Holding my last breath
Safe inside myself
Are all my thoughts of you
Sweet raptured light,
It ends here tonight.
-My Last Breath

The funeral was horrible for Logan. Jean comforted him as best she could. Remembering what Scott had said at the last, he let her.

Walking away from Scott’s grave, he turned to her and said, “I’ve found my last name.”

She looked a little surprised. “What is it, then?”

He looked up at the sky. “Summers.” She took his hand, offering what she could give. He felt it was a tribute to his lover, however small. He wondered how Scott would feel about it.

Time passed. Logan and Jean married, Logan was named leader of the X-Men while Jean was pregnant, and maintained the position. He was good at it.
Their son’s name was Scott.

The ‘mutant crisis’ slowly ground down, its opposition headed by Jean and Professor Xavier. Soon enough, the world was safe for all mutants. As it should be. They all regretted that Scott couldn’t be there to see all he’d worked so hard for become reality, none more than Logan.

Logan often went out to look at the stars. Usually alone. People let him. They didn’t bother him, except once in a while.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, Daddy?”

Logan looked at his son and wife, just arrived. He pointed at a small, bright light in the sky. “I’m lookin’ at that star.”

“Oh, I’m gonna look too!”

Jean and Scott lay on either side of him, and he put his arms around them. Scott soon fell asleep. “I haven’t seen that star before,” Jean remarked. “It’s so bright.”

“ It’s been up for a while. Ya know that myth that says everyone who dies gets their own star?” he asked her, and she nodded. “I think it’s Scott’s.”

“Oh, looks like you’ve discovered a new star then,” she said. “What are you going to name it?”

He hesitated, then told her what he’d been calling it ever since he’d first seen it; “Cyclops’ Phantom.”

Jean nodded. “Fitting.” She stood, and Logan picked their son up. He nodded, and they began their walk back to the institute. Logan looked up as he walked and sighed happily. The world was perfect. He had his wife, and son, and friends, and Scott “Cyclops/Phantom” Summers was watching over them all.


EPILOGUE
To this day I don’t know why I did what I did, and didn’t do what I should have. I don’t know why I raped Scott. Maybe I thought it was the only way I’d ever get to touch him. I don’t know why I didn’t tell him the first time around how I felt, why I waited so long. I regret not tellin’ him, I regret hurtin’ and humiliatin’ him. I did love him.

Every day I visit his grave. Every night I visit his star. I still miss him. I guess I always will.

I know it’s weird. Every night, when I’m alone outside under his star, I’ll talk. I guess I think somehow I’m talkin’ to him. I’ll talk about the day, my son – his namesake, Jean, the team, the kids, the world, whatever. I get the feelin’, however strange this may sound, that he hears me, and appreciates the news, even if he can’t talk to me. It’s stupid, I know. I must be losin’ it.
For whatever reason, it helps me keep my grip on my sanity. I’d probably have lost it without that feeling.


I know I can stop the pain
If I will it all away
Don’t turn away
Don’t give in to the pain.

The thing about Scott “Cyclops/Phantom” Summers was that he hid. So many people saw Cyclops –strong, perfect Fearless Leader, or Phantom –punk kid that could do anything at all. They never knew he could fall, fail. They saw the machine he hid in, the mask he hid behind. It was all to be there for them, to be as they needed him to be. I’d like to think I saw the man they never did, the man he tried to hide for them. The man who fell, who hurt, who cried, who failed, who needed love and support, the human with faults and frailties and feelings. I dunno if I succeeded. I’d like to think I did. I hope I did.

Don’t try to hide
Though they’re screaming your name.

How do I live without him? These demons still haunt me. They scream at me every night.

Don’t close your eyes
God knows what lies behind them
Don’t turn out the light
Never sleep, never die.
-Whisper

Jean knows about all of it. I tell her, of course. She’s been so supportive, and now I know why Scott wanted me to find someone. I’d never have been able to move on as much as I have without her. I love her to death, I really do. Her and our son.

I look in the mirror and see your face
If I look deep enough.
-Taking Over Me

I still see him, sometimes. I’ll look in the mirror, and see him. He’s always, always, always in my dreams. I still love him, will never forget him. Everyone else has moved on. I can’t for fear of forgettin’. I’m the only one still haunted by the past.

Scott, my son, like all other kids his age, wants to know why we named him as we did. I’m not ready to tell him, and he’s not ready to know. He will be someday, I know. Will I? I can’t answer that question.

Oh, when I think how One-Eye would react to the way I am now. He’d tear me limb from limb! I can’t help it.

I’ve tried so hard
To tell myself that you’re gone.
Though you’re still with me,
I’ve been alone all along.
-My Immortal

Sometimes I think he’s still with me, though I know it’s crazy. He’s always on my mind, I know that, always in my heart.

Those who know me may ask why I wrote it all out. Big, insensitive, animalistic asshole me. I guess I’m kinda hopin’ that by puttin’ it all out where everyone can see, I can move on and learn to live with the past without forgettin’ it.

Truth is, I love ya Scott “Cyclops/Phantom” Summers. I wrote it all down, every last detail (though in the third person), all I went through, all I thought you were thinkin’ and feelin’. Somehow, I’m sure it’s all right. Did you put the words into me? Did you guide my hand as I wrote it all? It’s all out there now. Anyone can know. All the team can know what I did. I’m not proud of it, but here it is. When my son is ready, maybe he’ll read this.

I love you, Scott “Cyclops/Phantom” Summers. I am yours, ever more.


-Logan “Wolverine” Summers


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