Author: Elizabeth Wilde
Title: Without [AU]
Distribution: Anyone who has my fic, anyone who asks for it, http://www.geocities.com/aloysiusj/xfic.html [my site]
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the X-Men. Just borrowing. I'll return them in good condition, I swear!
'Ship: Logan/Jean, Scott/Jean, Logan/Rogue
Classification: angst, AU
Summary: The X-Men's newest addition could prove fatal to Logan and Jean's relationship.
Rating: R
Spoilers: none
Feedback: always helps--to wilde_moon@yahoo.com

Jean could feel her lover tense at her side and laid a calming hand on his arm. "You didn't have to come," she reminded him. When Logan remained silent, she stopped in the middle of the hall and looked over at him. "Go wait in the car."

"What? Jeannie, I can-"

Jean smiled and shook her head, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I can handle it, Logan. You'll just end up making him more nervous as tense as you are."

Logan scratched the back of his neck self-consciously.  "I just hate hospitals. And doctors. No offense," he added. They laughed quietly together at the old joke and he gave her hand a squeeze. "Just you call me if things get weird."

"I've been seeing you for two years. How much weirder can it get?" Jean teased, eyes shining.

"Funny." Logan shook his head and walked back toward the exit, giving Jean a quick wave of good-bye.

She watched him walk away with a smile. Whatever their differences--and there were many--Jean loved him. She had become attached to the wild man who came to the school seeking his past and had fallen in love with the quiet one who lived inside the first. He was dangerous, passionate, but gentle, kind. Jean counted herself lucky to have found someone like him.

Her mind shifted focus as she started back down the hallway of the institution. She frowned. The man Professor Xavier had told her about should have been found sooner, should have been brought to the school when his powers surfaced. His parents, it seemed, had other plans and had instead covered up the damage the surfacing of their son's powers at a school dance had caused as best they could and forced him into a private institution. Jean could easily see why the place made Logan uneasy. //I'm a doctor and it's giving me the willies.// If a friend of Xavier's hadn't known the man who ran the institute, no one might have discovered their new charge lost in a shuffle of the insane and the recovering addicts at the institution.

//He's been here for... what? Fifteen years? It'll be a wonder if he's still got a grip, let alone any trust left.// But Xavier had gravely insisted that she go and at least try to convince the young man to accompany her back to the school. Logan, naturally, had insisted on coming as well.

Jean glanced at the numbers above the doors as she passed. //314. This is the place.// The nameplate beside the door was too old and faded to be read anymore. She wondered absently if anyone ever even bothered to visit, then wished she hadn't as another chill passed over her.

After a brief pause to collect herself, Jean knocked on the door. No reply came and she gently turned the knob, ducking her head in. The room was clinically barren, all traces of life seemingly scrubbed from the white and silver interior. There were no pictures or books or other remembrances to mark that anyone occupied the space. "Hello?"

Spotting movement toward the back of the shadowed room, Jean stepped closer. A young man--presumably the one she came for--sat on the room's single bed, back to her. "I'm not hungry," he stated as if hers was a common interruption. "Go away."

Jean stepped closer. "Scott Summers?"

The man's head jerked up and his back stiffened. "What? Who are you?" His tone was guarded, edgy.

"My name is Jean Grey," she replied, purposefully dropping her doctoral title. "I come from a place called Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. We help people like yourself," she explained gently, constantly moving closer to the bed.

"I went to school," he stated as if that ended the argument.

"I know," Jean replied, finally coming around the bed to stand in front of the man. There was tape over his eyes and she could see the roll it had come from on the nearby bedside table along with a pair of scissors. "This really doesn't have anything to do with studying, at least not the way you're thinking." For a brief moment, Jean considered trying to touch the man's mind, but his guard was up so high that even success would likely mean scaring him away completely.  "Professor Xavier runs the school as a haven for mutants," she stated bluntly. "We heard about your particular ability through a friend of the Professor's. We would like you to come to the school, to learn to use your ability."

"Use it?" A bitter smile twisted the man's lips and he snorted in disgust. "Yeah, maybe I could kill a couple of your students for you. Keep the student/teacher ratio down. Look, Ms. Grey, I don't know what you think I am, but there's nothing you or anybody else can do about it."

"You're right. We can't cure you. We can help you, though. We can find a way to control your ability, to-"

"My mutation."

"Your mutation," Jean repeated, voice free of the bitterness his carried. "There is nothing wrong with being a mutant, Scott."

"Of course not." His voice dripped with sarcasm. "That's why I've spent most of my fucking life in this institution waiting to die."

Jean felt her heart constrict. "Your parents didn't understand the potential-"

"Potential?" He sounded genuinely angry. "Look, this isn't some kind of goddamned gift! I'm a freak! I haven't opened my damn eyes in the past sixteen years because if I do, I could kill someone! You can't just come in here after all this time and think-"

"No matter what you might think, Mr. Summers, I'm here to help," Jean interrupted, voice calm but edged with steel. "I can promise you that Professor Xavier and I, along with everyone else at the school, will do anything and everything we can to help you. But only if you let us. The choice is yours."

Deflated, the man ran a hand through his shaggy brown hair and sighed. "I just... How am I supposed to believe that after all this time, someone can help me?"

"Because I can," Jean replied, taking his hand in hers. She gasped at the sudden, near-electric jolt that passed through her entire body at the contact. She felt his fingers tighten around hers and knew he must have felt it too. Her heart pounded so loudly she could almost hear the blood pulsing through her body. Suddenly she pulled back as if burned, mind reeling. Jean could feel his emotions resonating in her mind, turbulent, almost violent. She put a hand on the bed to steady herself. "God..."

"What the fuck was that?" he demanded, face turned in her general direction, clearly as confused by the energy as she.

"I... I don't... I'm not sure," Jean stammered. "I've never experienced anything like that before." A wave of confusion that felt oddly foreign and comforting spilled into her mind and she realized she could still feel his emotions. "I... I have telekinetic and psychic abilities. It's my mutation. Somehow, when I touched you... We're somehow linked."

"Linked? What-"

The door to the room flew open and Logan burst in. "Jeannie? You okay?" He was at her side, face tight with worry. "I could hear ya... I dunno... projectin'?"

Jean offered Logan a quick smile. "Sorry. Just... This is Scott," she finally said, gesturing to the man on the bed.

Logan had the presence of mind to look at least uncomfortable. "Sorry 'bout bargin' in like that, kid, but-"

"I'm not a fucking kid."

Jean could feel the muscles in Logan's arm tighten under her hand and broke in, "He calls half the people he knows kid. Logan has heightened healing ability, and it means he ages very slowly... most people are a good deal younger than he is, and he sometimes forgets that not everyone likes to be treated like they're infants because of it." At the last, she threw Logan a pointed glare and he scowled.

"Yeah, k-Scott, no offense intended. I just don't do diplomatic real well. That's why Jeannie's our PR and not me."

Scott snorted and managed the briefest flicker of a smile. "In that case, don't worry about it. Not like I'm used to better treatment anyway."

The door opened again, and an annoyed-looking nurse entered the room without ceremony, glaring at Logan. "Is he bothering you?" she asked no one in particular.

"No," Scott replied firmly. "You are." The woman shot him a dirty look and then wheeled around, heels clicking on the dingy white floor as she headed back down the hallway. "So... Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, huh?"

Jean smiled. "Yes. You'll come?"

"What the Hell. Can't be any worse, can it?" He rose carefully, fingers brushing the wall to get his bearings. "When do we leave?"

"As soon as we get you signed out and you gather your things."

"Things?" Scott shook his head. "There isn't a damn thing I want to take out of this place, if it's all the same to you."

"Of course," Jean replied quietly. "In that case, we can go sign you out now."

"The sooner the better," Scott returned grimly.

That night, after seeing that Scott was settled into his new room just down the hall from the one she shared with Logan, Jean lay in her lover's arms. Guilt gnawed at the back of her mind, and she couldn't get her thoughts to quiet. Sturdy mental walls held the feelings away from Logan, and that only made the guilt worse. //Why did I think of him?// She had caught herself on the verge of moaning the wrong name as Logan made love to her earlier in the evening. //I almost called him Scott.//

She could feel tears of shame stinging her eyes and rose carefully from the bed, not wanting to disturb Logan's sleep. //You need a distraction,// she assured herself. //You just need to think about something else for awhile. Focus.//

Jean descended to her lab and threw herself fully into running tests to design something to contain and channel Scott's power. //There has to be a way. And I'll be damned if I'm going to give up before I find it.//

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"That Logan guy said you wanted me down here," a voice from behind Jean said suddenly.

She had been so absorbed in her work that the presence had almost escaped her notice. Then she realized she had sensed it all along, even before Scott walked into the infirmary, that she hadn't been unaware of him since they touched the day before. "Yes. I think I've found something that may help you."

It had been almost a week, a week of Jean spending day and night inside the lab, catching cat naps and eating rarely. Logan was worried, but she shooed him out of the room whenever he tried to come and take her up to bed. "I'm fine, Logan. I just have a little more work to do," she explained time and again as she all but pushed him from the lab.

"Really?" Scott stepped forward, using the cane Professor Xavier had given him with an ease that belied the fact that he'd had it for less than a week.  For the first time, he seemed genuinely hopeful. "You... you might have something to... to stop this?"

"Not to stop it, but to control it, yes," Jean replied. She took Scott's arm and led him to an exam table. "Here."

"Thanks."

Jean turned back to a nearby table and picked up the pair of ruby quartz sunglasses she had laid there earlier. She guided the glasses carefully onto Scott's face and his hands rose to help her. Almost afraid to touch him again, Jean jerked her hands away self-consciously and stepped aside. "The only thing in front of you now is a wall. Open your eyes."

"Are you... sure?" Scott swallowed nervously and shifted on the table.

"Very sure. Trust me, Scott."

"I do." Slowly, his head rose. From the sudden rush of relief and near-shock Jean felt, she knew it had worked.

"Scott?"

His face turned toward her and his mouth fell slightly open. "You're... beautiful."

Jean's cheeks turned pink. "You haven't seen anybody in a long time. You'd probably think Logan's beautiful right now," she said, trying desperately to lighten the moment.

"No. I remember what beautiful looks like very well," Scott replied, hand rising almost unconsciously to touch Jean's cheek. "You're beautiful."

Warning sirens sounded in almost every corner of Jean's mind, urging her to pull away. //Logan... you love Logan. This is just... just... You need to stop this.// "Scott, I-"

His hand pulled away quickly as if he already knew what she intended to say. "Sorry," he mumbled, looking down. "I didn't think."

"No, Scott, it's not... I... I've been with Logan for years now, and..." Jean shook her head, trying to clear it, to form thoughts she couldn't voice properly, even to herself. //I love Logan,// she repeated firmly to herself. //But I want Scott.// The words sounded wrong. //More than that...// She reached out to touch Scott's cheek gently and then gasped as she suddenly felt his mind open to her completely, all the mental walls he had erected so carefully falling before her.

~Go ahead,~ a voice within her that was not her own urged. Effortlessly, Jean slid into Scott's mind. She felt pain first. Intense pain. Saw his parents, his brother, heard countless doctors. Felt the rejection of knowing that his family didn't want him, saw him as an embarrassment. Below that was fear. //Of me?// Of his own feelings, fear that if he did the wrong thing, he might lose her too. Then there was lust, a few half-formed images that left her cheeks burning. Beyond that was something she couldn't even begin to describe. It was more feeling than image. It was red. It was warmth. It was part of everything else and beyond it. //Love.// The feeling/image was echoed in her own mind, and Jean pulled the connection back into herself, letting Scott see her mind as she had seen his. //Go ahead.//

Perspective again grounded and centered on the physical, Jean watched as his mouth fell open. She imagined that if she could see his eyes, they would be wide. Jean smiled. //Do you see?//

~I see.~ Before she could think, he was pulling her close, her body pressed tight against his, held in place by the hands planted firmly on her waist. The next second, Scott's lips were on hers and her hands were sliding around his neck, fingers in his hair. //Scott...// Warmth sang through Jean, and she couldn't pull away. //Scott...// A sudden flash of anger burned through her mind and she jerked away, guilt warring with desire for a place in her thoughts.  "Logan..."

Jean took a step toward him and he growled low. "Don't." Without another word, he turned and stalked down the hall.

Jean hesitated. //What the Hell are you waiting for, Jean? If you let him go...// The feeling of warm hand on her shoulder completed the thought. She leaned back, knowing Scott would be there, reveling in the way she felt leaned against him. His arms circled her from behind and she turned her head until their lips met again. //For someone who spent most of his life in an institution, his technique certainly hasn't suffered.// Turning so that she could wrap her arms around Scott again, Jean wondered if she should stop, if it would be better to try to slow things down. The touch of his lips and the hands running over her body made thinking impossible, however, and Jean abandoned herself to the moment.

Logan could feel the claws beneath his skin itching for release, some half-forgotten voice inside him begging to be let out, pleading for a little bloodshed. //You're overreactin'. It was a kiss. That's all. But her hands were all tangled up in his hair and she damn well looked like she wanted it that way... But things happen. You of all people should know that. Do ya really wanna lose 'er over one kiss?  Aw, hell.// Feeling stupid for not having dealt with the issue immediately, Logan wheeled around and headed back to the lab.

His entire body froze when he glanced in the clear window in the door to the lab. Jean and Scott were on an exam table, naked and quite thoroughly absorbed in each other. The anger he had been holding back flamed to the surface again, but before Logan could push open the door of the lab and demand to know what the hell they thought they were doing, a sense of loss more overwhelming than the rage washed over him, choking back the violence.

He stumbled back from the door as if it were suddenly too hot to touch. //God...// Logan swallowed hard and felt tears burning his eyes. //I don't fucking cry,// he told himself with frustration even as he felt the first warm tears trailing down his face. //I don't...// Cursing himself for being so stupid, he headed back down the hallway. His emotions reeled out of control. One second he wanted to turn around and tear both of them into a million pieces, the next to take Jean in his arms again and beg her not to leave him. Then again, he wanted to run away and forget it had ever happened, forget the years spent with Jean and the way he loved her even as his heart was breaking. //I could just leave...//

Suddenly he collided with an object that shouldn't have been standing in the middle of the hall and the roller coaster was halted for a moment.

"Hey!" Rogue's gloved hand came forward to grasp Logan's arm. Noting the tears, her face paled. "Oh, God, Logan, what's wrong? What's happened?"

Logan stopped himself sort of grabbing the girl and throwing her across the hall. "Lemme go, Marie," he growled.

"Not a chance in Hell," she replied firmly, eyes blazing. "If somethin's goin' on that's enough to have you this shook up, I'm damn well not lettin' you outta my sight until I know what it is."

He growled again and felt the claws fighting for freedom again. "Marie-"

"Don't you growl at me!" she snapped, hauling him toward the couch by his arm. "You keep forgettin' Ah'm stronger'n you are anymore, and Ah'm not lettin' you off the hook just because you get nasty." Not releasing her grip, Marie's dark eyes found Logan's. "What's goin' on?"

"Dammit, Marie, why do you hafta know me so well?" Logan groused, leaning back against the couch cushions. Her grip loosened and then fell away. "You know that guy Xavier sent us after?"

"Scott. Yeah. Well, Ah don't //know// 'im, but Ah know who he is. Bit cagey 'bout talkin' to anybody but Jean from what Ah've seen," she commented. "Said hello to 'im one mornin' and you'd think Ah put a gun to his head the way 'e looked at me."

"That's the one," Logan replied, eyes clear again and edged with a sort of hard bitterness. "Him and Jeannie... they..." He fought to keep the anger above the sadness. "More'n friends, let's say."

Rogue's mouth fell open. "Shit! Ah never would've... Ah'll be damned."

Had the situation been different, Logan might have told her to watch her language. As it was, he merely grunted and stared at the window over Rogue's shoulder.

Her eyes narrowed suddenly. "Yer leavin', aren't ya? Gonna run away instead of facin' it. Damn, Logan, that's not the way you should play this."

His gaze snapped back toward her. "Why the hell not, Marie?"

"Because Jean isn't the only person here who cares about you and you know it. Ya got me here, and Ah know Ah consider you my best friend. Then there's 'Ro, and you know she likes ya pretty well. Hell, even the Professor's gotten used to havin' yer sorry ass around. Ah'm not gonna let you run out on us." Her eyes were every bit as flinty as his own, her jaw set. "You'll leave here over my dead body."

"I can't stay here after-"

"You sure as shit can."

Another growl rose in Logan's throat, but he bit it back. "You didn't see them together. You've never felt..." he struggled for words to describe what he had felt. "You've never lost somebody like that."

He caught the flash of pain that flitted across Rogue's face and wished he hadn't said what he had. "No, Ah haven't lost anybody like that. Ah haven't had anybody to lose. Ah'm not sayin' you don't deserve your pain, Logan," she said, rising from the couch, "but don't you dare act like you're the only one who's been hurt. We've all been hurt more times'n we can count. Part of livin', in case you've forgotten." Anger forgotten suddenly, Rogue's eyes softened. "Ya know where to find me if you wanna talk," she said before heading upstairs.

Logan waited until she was out of sight and then buried his head in his hands, unable to pretend anger was more important than pain for another moment.

TBC...

Okay, here's what I have so far. I need feedback to help decide the direction of the story, so... *beg*

Peace & Love, Beth wilde_moon@yahoo.com