Author: Nadja Lee
English is not my native language. Please
forgive me my mistakes.
Disclaimer: "X-men" and all the characters here belong to Marvel , 20 Century Fox and I intend no infringement, this is a piece of amateur fan fiction, and I make no money of it. Only the original idea contained within this work is the property of the author. Please do not copy this story to any website or archive without permission of the author.
Timeline: Set a little after the movie
Universe: Set in the movie universe. Only the movie NOT the book that goes with it!
Pairing: Slight Scott/Logan (friendship)
Summary: Scott has a talk with Logan about pain and colours.
Series: Family Building
Thanks to Anika and Cristina for the Beta!
// indicates flashback//
Scott went down the dark corridor in the X-mansion towards the kitchen. It was three in the morning and the house was quiet. He ran a hand through his hair. Why had he been dreaming about his foster father, now of all times? He thought he was over having nightmares about it. But the dream had seemed so real. The feelings of loneliness and fear were still so strong in him that he had been unable to go back to sleep. He hasn't spoken to anyone about his past, not even Jean. He preferred it like that. The Professor knew of course. He had been the one to find him; the one to rescue him.
He reached the kitchen and was surprised to find the lights on. Instantly his hand went to the side of his head only to remember that he was wearing his night goggles and not his visor.
"Wow, One-Eye. Relax. It's me," Logan grunted as Scott came towards the table and could see that the Canadian was indeed back. Scott's hand fell to the side.
"Logan, you're back," Scott said surprised.
"Looks like it, doesn't it, One-Eye?" Logan grunted.
// You are nothing to me but a worthless One-eyed freak.//
Scott shook his head to make those memories go away but as always when Logan called him that memories like it kept returning and gave him a very short leash with Logan. Scott said nothing and went to the cupboard and took out a cup for his coffee.
"Take mine with you. It's the blue one," Logan said from the table, his head once more in the newspaper he had been reading when Scott came in.
Scott looked at the cups and glasses in the cupboard. He could recognise his own cup from it's shape and the logo on the front but which one was Logan's? He'll be damned if he admitted he couldn't even find a cup! Think logical, he thought. Okay, so what would Logan's cup look like? It was probably big and without logos. He looked though the cups and found a big cup without logo. He turned it over in his hand. Could be this one but... What the Hell does it matter anyway? A cup is a cup. He hated making mistakes or feel vulnerable so he sat Logan's cup in front of him without looking at him and then seated himself across from him. Logan could not be said to be the best of friends but right now all he needed was someone to be with so he could keep the memories at bay, which treated to overpower him even now.
" Where did you go to school??" Logan growled and forced Scott's attention back at him. "This is green…" he help up the cup Scott had brought him "...and this is blue," he pointed at his jacket.
" Yeah, so what? A cup is a cup," Scott said, hiding his vulnerability behind anger.
That kid was impossible, Logan thought and shook his head while leaving the kitchen.
" Scott, give me the white glasses, would you?" Jean asked him the next morning.
" Sure," Scott answered and looked into the cupboard. He thought back to two days earlier. All the white glasses are in the dishwasher, Ororo had said when they had prepared a picnic for the children. Scott had made sure he had been the one to empty the dishwasher and had put the glasses in the left upper corner. When first he remembered the shape and logo on the glasses he did not have to remember them like this but the glasses were newly brought. Scott found the glasses and started making the table. Soon the kitchen was full with children and the day's top topic was Logan's return.
Logan was popular among the students. Not that very many of them really knew him because only Rogue did, but through Rogue's tales Logan had become as an invincible superman to most of the kids. When Logan joined the breakfast table a little after Jean had telepathically called to breakfast Rogue had reserved a seat for him and she joyously began telling him all about what she had been doing while he was away. When breakfast was over the kids began going to classes and Scott went to teach his first class that day, in mathematics.
This really had to stop. Scott did not get much sleep these days and once again he was on his way to the kitchen in the middle of the night. This time he wasn't so surprised as before to see Logan sitting by the table.
" Logan," Scott said as a way of greeting and briefly wondered why Logan wasn't in bed either; was he haunted by bad dreams as well?
" Scott," Logan answered softly and Scott nearly dropped the mug of coffee he was holding. Logan never called him Scott. He became worried for him. They may not be friends but Logan was a part of the team and Scott had come to accept that.
" Something wrong?" Scott asked as he seated himself across from Logan and with a small smile put a blue (at least he hoped it was blue) cup of coffee next to Logan. After breakfast Scott had simple asked Rogue which cup was Logan's and she of course knew. She seemed to know more about Logan than any of them even now when his presence in her mind was disappearing.
" S' nothing," Logan said but when he saw Scott's disbelieving look he said. " Ok, so I had a bad dream. Nothing new in that."
With his eyes Logan dared Scott to make any kind of comment about it. Scott looked sympathetic but just nodded. For a long time they just sat in comforting silence.
When Scott was about to leave Logan said; "Black was better than green, I suppose," and held up the cup with a small smile.
" Be glad it isn't pink," Scott answered, his tone sharp but his eyes soft.
Once again Scott went to the kitchen at night. Over the last two weeks he and Logan had met there every night and talked. It was as if the night made a shelter for them. When they sat and talked, well, Logan did most of the talking, they were freed from the roles they played in the daylight. They had a truce at nighttime that never lasted into daylight. Scott wasn't sure why.
" Logan," Scott said and smiled at the other man. He was beginning to look forward to these nightly meetings.
" I made coffee this time," Logan said and Scott seated himself across from him. "And I found my blue cup," he added with a meaning glance at Scott. Scott nodded with a small smile.
" I can see that."
For a moment they sat in silence. Scott waited for Logan to start talking. The last nights Logan had told him of his dreams and the pain in them. Scott had been surprised to learn this of Logan because like most of the children he had gotten a mental picture of Logan as a man who did not know pain and who had no problems. A real Superman. How wrong he had been. Scott had been saddened to learn that Logan remembered so little about himself. It had to be very annoying to not even know your own last name.
" Scott," Logan's voice brought him back to the present and Scott waited for Logan to continue. " Scott, this cup isn't blue. It's grey," Logan said softly and nodded to the cup. Scott looked confused. Whatever he had thought Logan would say this wasn't it. He knew he was trapped. The cup could be either blue or grey. If he said he knew it was grey and it was blue he confirmed Logan's suspicions and if he said it was blue and it really was grey he did the same. Damn, he had underestimated Logan, something he vowed never to do again. Scott looked into Logan's eyes and wished he knew what colour they were.
" So, I can't see colours. No big deal," he said uncomfortably.
" Does the others know?"
" No and I prefer it that way. Only the Professor knows," Scott said, hoping Logan would understand.
" Have you ever been able to see colours?" Logan asked him curiously.
Getting information out of this kid is more difficult than talking with me, Logan thought darkly.
" So, how old were you?"
"Five," Scott said and the pain in his voice let Logan know that there was far more to the story than this.
" Do you even remember colours?" Scott thought for a moment.
" I know what colour things are supposed to have, like water is blue but I can't picture the colour in my head."
Scott had never told anyone this and was surprised that he shared it with Logan but he felt safe with Logan. He felt protected. Scott looked so vulnerable and young in that moment that Logan regretted having forced him to tell him. But more than anything he was surprised by the power of his own feelings. His own desire to make Scott's pain go away and an even stronger desire to protect him.
" The glasses only lets you see in red, hmm?" Logan asked softly and Scott nodded. Logan reached out his hand and placed it over Scott's. Scott looked down at their hands and gave Logan's hand a gentle squeeze.
" Thank you," Scott said so softly that only Logan with his supernatural hearing could hear it.
" You're welcome," Logan mumbled. For a long time the two men just sat in the kitchen, forming a bond stronger than words. A bond built from shared pain and lost dreams. A bond becoming something more, something purer. For the first time Logan and Scott did not part at dawn but was still sitting in the kitchen as Ororo as the first came down to prepare breakfast. She smiled at them as she saw them and greeted them with a happy good morning. Things had suddenly taken a turn to the better; Ororo was sure of it.
Continues in "Marked By Darkness"