Disclaimer: Cyclops and all other mentioned X-Men are the property of Marvel, Disney, Stan Lee, and people that I would love to meet. I mean no disrespect in this one-shot and hope nobody bothers to sue me.
A/N: This is the first story (one-shot) in the Satin & Shades Rogue and Cyclops series.
Tim McGraw - Don't Take the Girl
Take the very breath you gave me
Take the heart from my chest
I'll gladly take her place if you'll let me
Make this my last request
Take me out of this world
God, please don't take the girl
Don't Take the Girl
He'd looked at her, after her, since the first day he'd laid eyes on her.
He was the Professor's first official student and she'd come along not long after he'd first called the Institute home. It was before he'd gotten his first pair of specialized ruby quartz glasses, so he hadn't even been able to look into those beautiful eyes of hers for the first few weeks of their acquaintance.
But, the moment that he had - well, he'd been sunk.
Love didn't come so swiftly on her end, but he'd been patient. He'd been a good friend, the best friend, and had been her shoulder when she'd needed one and done anything in his power to make her laugh.
But, he'd never stopped looking at her with adoration and absolute affection in his eyes.
Their late teens had included more than their fair share of awkward moments, of course; moments fueled mostly by his out of control hormones. Thankfully, she'd found him cute, charming even, and had finally let him kiss her the fall break of her second semester in college.
Of course, she'd never gotten over the fact that she was four years older than him, never gotten over the fact that she felt like she was taking advantage of him.
God, he'd loved her so fiercely, so completely, for so fucking long.
He lifted his hand to his face and brushed his damp hair back off of his forehead, the tears brimming in his eyes with the knowledge that he'd never, ever, make love to his fiancée again. He fought against the hands that grabbed at him; despite the adrenaline coursing through his system, his body was too wracked from what it had been through to fight against the dominant hold of the Wolverine.
God, he'd never get to –
He felt her brush against his mind as her connection with the Professor was severed. He saw the pain in the Professor's gaze as the truth dawned on the tired, older man. He'd known that there was no fighting her once she'd made up her mind, and if there'd ever been a time she'd been more determined, he couldn't recall it to safe his life.
Goodbye, Scott, she whispered in his mind, caressing him mentally in a way that only she ever could. I love you. I'm sorry.
His chest ached as he sobbed loudly, body tensed with rage and grief and a smaller mixture of disbelief as he fought savagely against the Wolverine. The bastard wouldn't budge, wouldn't give at all. Enraged, he lifted his hand to his visor and prepared to cut his way through to her.
He didn't even feel the Blackbird lift off of the ground, didn't even acknowledge the fact that the controls were operational and that Ororo was shouting commands to him, begging for him to take over.
The Wolverine grabbed him roughly, pulling him into what may have resembled a sort of roughneck bear hug. He didn't know what to do, what to say. Instead, he sobbed and continued to fight against the man with every ounce of strength left in his body.
Jean, he thought to himself, his breathing ragged as sobs shook his tired body. Please. Don't do this. I need you. I love – his thoughts were halted when their intimate mental rapport, the very same rapport that she'd constructed the morning after they'd first made love, was severed.
The pain, mental and physical and emotional, caused his body to shut down. His heart broken, he collapsed onto his knees, ignorant of the shouts of worry and alarm around him, and cried out for her. His throat was hoarse, and yet he cried out her name over and over again.
He didn't believe in a Higher Purpose, a God of any sort. And yet he still cried out to the Universe, still begged for something or someone to interfere. Yet, his prayers weren't answered, they would never be answered.
And for the second time in his life, Scott Summers was left completely broken and alone.