hi y'all. name's kaly and i've been a lurker here
for a little while now. have to admit to reading almost all of the
(un)frozen archive in maybe two days, so i'm on the hunt for more
fic! :) anyway, i know i've not said anything before, but i finished
a story yesterday that bobby is in and thought i would share. hope
this is pretty much movieverse. except i used the original five background
so bobby is grown, not a student. i hope i did right by the character,
he got serious on me. ;)
i hope you like it, and i'll disappear back over into the lurker's
area again :) ~~kaly
Title: If Only
Author: kaly (email@example.com)
Archive: if I've given you permission before, go for it. Otherwise,
Classification: angst, Jean's POV
Characters: Scott/Jean, Bobby
Warnings: death story, angst
Series: Acts of Love.
Summary: Jean reacts to Scott's death. Companion piece to "Please
Note: I was going to bed. Really I was. Instead I wrote a fic.
*sigh* Oh well, who am I to disagree with my psychotic muse?
Canon Note: Okay, I'm playing with the canon lines here. This
is basically movieverse with one big exception - I'm portraying Bobby
more like the *comic* version: older and one of the original five
(thus a friend and not a student). And Hank is mentioned in passing.
Thanks: To Kris for reading over this for me :-)
Disclaimer: No one in here is mine. Dang it. These folks belong
to Marvel. Tho I'd gladly take Scott and/or Bobby in the form of a
gift or donation. And the only thing I get from it is email, no money
so send the lawyers elsewhere. *g*
Maybe if I'd known I was going to lose him I would have done something
different. I would have rushed ahead, pushed myself harder. Would
have done whatever I had to, to be at his side.
That's what you do when you love someone. Anything ... Everything
to keep them safe. And I love him with all that I am. I always have.
If I could have seen what was going to happen I wouldn't have let
Scott out of my sight. I would have held on tighter and not let him
go. Savored the sound of his voice in my ears, his presence in my
mind and the feel of his hands on my skin.
If only I had known he was going to be ripped away from me.
It's so easy to look back and question everything. Hindsight is not
only twenty-twenty, it is also a cruel and torturous reminder of how
things might have been. How they should have been.
Yesterday - God, could it possibly have only been yesterday? We spent
the afternoon walking around the grounds. We didn't talk much, there
wasn't anything pressing to say. We only enjoyed the time that was
granted - a time free of missions and fights.
The little things stand out. The way the leaves were falling and
the smile on his face. It was cold and he gave me his jacket. He always
was the gentleman type, for as long as I've known him.
When we reached the large oak tree, he took my hand in his - in a
perfect mirror of the first time I'd ever held his hand in mine. The
years between that night and this feel like days. The day between
yesterday and now, an eternity.
There was no way of knowing the horror we would face in the next
few hours. Instead, we blindly enjoyed the day. The school was at
break; everyone was getting along amazingly well. The skies were the
deepest sapphire blue of fall. And we were together.
So many things have happened in our lifetimes - trials and troubles
most people never imagine. A day like yesterday - pure and innocent
and free - is rare and all the more wonderful for it. Even still,
we took the time for granted. It's so hard not just to assume you
have forever. I think I had managed to convince myself we did.
Last night, with the mansion quiet around us we made love slowly.
As with the day before it, nothing was rushed. Neither of us was thinking
of anything outside that moment.
Closing my eyes, I can still feel his hands on my back and in my
hair. If I think just hard enough, it's as if I can feel his lips
against mine. As we moved together, I didn't want the night to end
- I didn't want to move from that one moment of togetherness.
But it had to end. I fell asleep with my cheek pressed to his chest,
his heartbeat steady in my ear, and his arms around me. I've never
felt so safe as I did in his arms, languid with release and filled
When Ororo knocked on the door, only a few hours after we'd finally
drifted to sleep, we each got up and dressed. There was a duty to
the Dream. Now, holding his pillow to my chest I can't bring myself
to give a damn for our 'duty'. Wasn't he as important to me as duty
Maybe if I'd known, I would have refused to leave our bed. Refused
to let Scott leave my arms. I might have held onto him that much tighter,
clutching him to my breast. But I didn't know. And I didn't refuse
to leave. Instead we smiled, ready to face whatever challenges awaited
How could either of us have known that within the day he would be
lost? Struck down in a battle supposedly won?
The moments it took me to reach him where he lay broken on the ground
are burned into my mind. The smells and sounds live in my brain, and
I refuse to let them go. In their own strange way they're a link to
everything I've lost.
When I pulled him to me he smiled at me. Dying in my arms and he
reached up to brushed my hair from my face. I didn't even realize
I was crying until I saw the tears land on his glove. But the feeling
of his hand on my cheek ... That is something I hope I never forget.
He tried to speak, but couldn't. Instead he mouthed three words that
caused my tears to fall harder. "I love you."
So I held him closer and whispered the same thing back to him, over
and over. The faintest smile turned his lips before the light of his
visor dimmed slowly. The bond we shared - a warmth in my mind I never
imagined I'd lose - faded and then I knew ... He was gone.
Holding him tighter, I rocked him both back and forth. I pulled the
visor from his face, and saw his eyes - once more brown instead of
red. Closing them with my hand, I kissed his forehead. As I did, I
continued my whispered mantra. I knew he couldn't hear me but it didn't
matter. I had to say it.
It was Logan who found us - seconds, minutes, maybe hours later.
I don't know. He tried to pull me away from Scott, but I refused.
I held onto him even tighter. But it was too little, too late.
Tears threaten even now thinking about it, but I don't want them
to fall. I don't want to grieve. I'm not convinced I want today to
end - Scott was still alive today. Tomorrow he will only be dead.
I don't want to move on. If I do that then he really is gone. Then
I have to let him go.
Sitting on our bed, it's as if the room is haunted. The memories
of us, our last night together and our first, fill this room. I took
those moments for granted until now - now I know they'll never happen
again. Is it possible that I was a fool?
Realizations come quickly. I'm never going to feel his arms around
me again. I'll never soothe him out of another nightmare. Never again
will he stroke my hair as we fall asleep after we've made love. He
can't wipe away my tears now. Maybe that's why I so desperately don't
want to cry.
I'm not sure how to live in a world he's not in. In truth I can barely
remember life before we were here, the five of us training to fight
for Xavier's dream. The five of us ... Only three of us remain now.
A sob tries to work its way from my chest, but I fight it. I have
to be strong. I may not want to give a damn for the dream, but I have
to. Scott died for it, the least I can do is live for it. But it's
not for me anymore - it's for him.
It's strange, sitting here in the dark it's as if Scott is with me.
I know he isn't - cannot be - but it doesn't change the feeling. Like
a breeze on the back of your neck or the sensation you're being watched.
I have to fight the urge to turn and look, as if he's just walked
through the door after teaching a class or talking with the Professor.
I close my eyes. He'll never do that again.
I can't see the future, that's not my power. But still part of me
says I should have known - I should have felt what was going to happen.
Stopped it, saved him. Then he'd be with me, holding me rather than
me holding his pillow. Gripping the pillow tighter, breathing in the
scent of his shampoo, the tears finally start to slip free.
How I wish I'd known.
I'm startled when there's a knock on my door. I try to wipe the tears
from my face but don't quite manage it before Bobby sticks his head
in the room. He looks at me, silent for a long moment, waiting for
permission to enter.
The others had come and gone, checking up on me. Xavier, Ororo, Hank,
Logan ... I'd sent them all away. Apparently it's Bobby's turn.
Looking at him for a minute, I realize I don't know if I've ever seen
him look so serious. Annoying though it may be at times, he's always
been the one to be there with a smile or a joke.
Something in me doesn't want to send him away, too. I blink and nod;
he walks inside and closes the door behind him. The youngest of the
five, though not so young anymore, I still can't help but think of
him as a little brother - in a way all four of us did, especially
He walks across the room and sits next to me on the bed. "Hank said..."
He stops, and takes a shaky breath. "I wish I'd been there, Jeannie,"
he says after a long moment of silence. It wasn't supposed to be a
great battle, just a minor skirmish - or so we thought. So while we'd
gone on the mission, it had been Bobby's turn to stay behind at the
mansion with the students.
I shake my head and speak before I really think about it. "It wouldn't
have changed anything." I barely recognize my own voice, rough and
unused. I try not to think about what I've just said. Maybe it's true
for the others, but it's not for me, part of my mind insists.
Bobby stares at his hands before finally turning to look at me. His
eyes are red and swollen. "I know what you're thinking, you know."
He moves closer and wraps his arm around my shoulders. I tense at
the contact, but finally relax. Leaning close, his voice drops to
barely a whisper. "It's not your fault, Jeannie."
"I ... Maybe if I..." He shakes his head and I stop trying to force
the words together.
"No. There's no way you could have known." I look up at him quickly.
How'd he know that was what I was thinking? "You didn't do anything
I shake my head, denying the absolution. "How do you know? You weren't
even there." I regret the words as soon as they're out of my mouth,
but I can't take them back.
Bobby looks hurt, but only nods. "I know." When he takes a deep breath,
I can hear the tears he's fighting. We've all been friends for so
long. "It's no one's fault but the one who..." he pauses, and I see
him blink quickly. "It's not our fault. We just have to try and remember
My eyes fill with the tears I keep refusing and my vision blurs.
Surprising myself, I lay my head on Bobby's shoulder. "I miss him
so much already."
I wonder for a moment if he even heard me when he replies. "I know,
Jeannie. I'm so sorry."
"I know." I nod, sniffing.
He wraps his other arm around me, and pulls me into a hug. "Go ahead
and cry. It's okay." I half expect him to crack a joke, but he doesn't.
I always knew there was more to him than he let anyone see.
Shaking my head, I reply, "I can't."
"You have to." He rubs his hand over my hair, and if I close my eyes
I can almost pretend it's Scott who's holding me. Almost. "It doesn't
mean you're letting him go, or that you don't love him anymore."
My tears are falling in earnest now, the shoulder of his shirt soaked
through. "I don't know how to live without him." I'm gasping for breath,
but finally manage the whispered words.
Not letting go, I can feel Bobby nod. "I know, Jeannie. But you will."
"Why did he have to go?"
Bobby doesn't speak, he just holds me tighter as I finally let go
and cry. There isn't anything else to say.
Love it? Hate it? Find me at firstname.lastname@example.org
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