Title: The Tale of Two Hearts

E-mail: riddickgurl@yahoo.com.au 

Author/pseudonym: Trinalla Mohani

Rating: PG-13  

Pairing: Scott/Logan     

Date: 01/05/2001

Archive: Yes!!!!!

Disclaimers: They're not mine, those X-men belong to

20th Century Fox and Marvel Comics etc. etc. etc.

Summary: Scott's POV of Logan's leaving, his feelings

for Logan and his past. Written like he'd be writing

in a diary only he isn't.

*   *    *   *   *   *

He says he's leaving. Doesn't know when he'll be back

(if at all), though he did give Marie his dogtags so

that has to count for something. He's been itching to

get out of there ever since he arrived but one thing

or another always got in the way. Well now there's

nothing at all to stop the bastard from leaving. It's

not like my feelings are going to hold any sway with a

self possessed loner like him. But you know the thing

that really startles me the most isn't the fact that

he can leave so easily without a hint of regret or

guilt, but the fact that, when he leaves, he'll be

taking my heart with him.

               It's kinda sad when you think about it. And believe

me, I've been thinking about it. Almost non-stop. Me,

a one-eyed mutant freak has lost his heart to an

arrogant loner, also a mutant, called Wolverine. Or

just Logan, seeing as he can't remember if he has a

last name. I don't even know if he gives two hoots

about me. For all I know, I could have just been his

latest fuck buddy in a long string of partners. To

tell the truth, I don't think I know anything about

the man. Not anything that matters anyway.

               I was there when Jean was telling us about his

adamantium encased skeleton, and I was a witness to

his fight with Sabertooth in Canada so I got to see

the claws. But other than that, I know nothing. The

man's a big a mystery as Area 51. Only I have a

feeling that aliens would be easier to understand than

the strong, silent mutant I've fallen in love with. 

               I never believed in love at first sight. I believed

I'd become too jaded and cynical. I thought love grew

out of mutual liking and respect, if at all, a certain

understanding for the person in your affections. If

Logan hadn't barged into our lives, I truly believe I

would have married Jean and never known what I was

missing. 

               Don't get me wrong, I love Jean, thing is I'm not in

love with her. The best way to describe my

relationship with our dear doctor is to say it's the

closest friendship one could ever wish to have with

the opposite sex. If it weren't for Jean I probably

wouldn't even believe in love. The professor                and Jean

have become my family and I wouldn’t hurt them for the

world. Charles is the father I always wished I'd had

and Jean is the sister I always wanted. Someone to

look after and protect. I never realized all this till

Logan came into the picture and reminded me of the

life I'd left behind and everything I'd repressed

since coming to the mansion.

               Charles would be shocked to think that and find out

that his training, teachings and counseling have done

absolutely nothing to help me move on to new things,

move away from my old life. What Charles calls

control, I call a mask. What Charles calls control, I

call restraint. There wasn't really anything Charles

could teach me that I hadn't already taught myself.

All I really learnt was how to mask my thoughts from a

telepath as powerful as the professor. And he doesn't

suspect a thing. He treats us all as his family and me

especially as the son he never had, and can never

have.

               He knows only as much of my past as I chose to tell

him. What he doesn't know won't hurt him but if he

ever found out, it certainly could. I've never

voluntarily told anyone, anyone that is except Logan.

Stupid thing to do really.  He was probably sitting

there the entire time thinking, 'Oh poor little pansy

Scott', then 'Why the hell am I sitting here listening

to this shit?' And I can't believe I sat there and

told him all that shit. I wasn't looking for sympathy

or pity, I was hoping that if I opened up a bit to him

he'd reciprocate. Boy was I wrong. 

               But then it's so hard to tell with him, he's even

more closed off than I am. And now he's off chasing

demons from his past, on my motorcycle. Without so

much as a 'by your leave'. If he'd only left me a

message like he did with Marie, along the lines of

'I'll be returning this to you' I could have maybe

excused it. But nothing. He left while we were

watching the news, having just found out Mystique is

posing as our dearly departed Senator Kelly, out of

the corner of my eye I saw Marie dash towards the

front door and I vaguely realized he was leaving. But

unlike Marie I couldn’t run to him and beg him to

stay. I'd already done that the night before.

               As casually as possible I looked toward the door to

see Marie clutching his dogtags to her chest and then

I heard it. I could almost see him thinking 'should I

or shouldn't I?' I tensed and angrily muttered, "The

fuck you will!" much to my teammates astonishment and

bolted out the front door only to catch the sight of

my bike and my love shooting through the gates at the

far end of the drive. So now he's gone. Not just

going, but gone.

               Seems like Marie and I have more in common than I

first thought. She seems to be taking his leaving

pretty well. She's too mature for her age but then

that comes with being a mutant. Makes you grow up

quick and it also takes away any pretense of ever

trying to live a normal life. I came to acknowledge

that fact very early on and a lot more violently than

Marie (though granted hers was pretty bad). I was a

few years younger than she is now. I was twelve and

used to spend my afternoons playing baseball with the

other kids down at the park. Orphans.  My parents

obviously had an inkling when I was born that I was

going to be a mutant so they ditched me at an

orphanage.  I wasn't especially loved there either.

The workers must have thought I was a sullen irascible

boy. But I wasn't, I was merely lonely. Even in an

orphanage surrounded by fellow dumpees I was and

outsider and that was before I mutated. There's a long

history in that orphanage of child abuse and I was

just like all the other kids, only I think I probably

annoyed more workers than most other kids. I was

beaten probably three, four times a day. Six if they

were especially pissed off. I learned to heal quickly,

it took the heat of the other, weaker kids when they

noticed I was healed and they focused their attention

on me.

               One day I just snapped and started to hit back. I was

in such a frenzy that the pain they inflicted upon me

didn't even register. I was in the sick room for a

week. I looked like one huge bruise. I learned from

that experience to be sure. I never attacked them

again, but I watched. I watched them very closely. I

wanted to learn how to defend myself and survive out

in the real world. Because that was my goal, to escape

out of the orphanage, take some of the kids with me

and make a living for myself out in the real world. I

didn't really care if it took my to the streets and I

was living in a dumpster, as long as I was out! 

               That day came but as I'd expected or anticipated.

Mack, the head worker, was beating me and he was being

especially violent. I think his girlfriend had just

ditched him or something, whatever it was he was

taking it out on me. At one stage I realized I he was

way beyond the ability to stop and I started to fight

back, knowing that if I didn't I'd probably be beaten

to death. I think it was probably the stupidest thing

I could have done. I just provoked him more. I went

flying across the room a few times, first couple of

times I hit objects with my back and shoulder but the

last few times it was my head that crashed into a

wall, a dresser and the metal frame of a bed.

               God I can still remember it, I can still feel the

searing pain in my head, behind my eyes. I thought it

was just a result of my head being bashed into things

because by that stage Mack thought it was fun to grab

my head and bash it into the floor over and over

again. I was in torment, my eyesight was all blurred

and tinged red with all the pain that was pounding in

my head. It felt like my eyes were burning from the

inside out. I screamed, the first scream I'd ever let

out whilst being beaten. It worked wonders on Mack. It

snapped him out of his rage and I think he was a

little shocked to see what he'd done and just how far

he'd gone. He screamed for someone to call an

ambulance and hurried towards me. I'm not sure what he

did, I think I must have blanked out for a while,

whatever happened the ambulance did arrive. Fat lot of

good it did though.

               I'll never know what the doctors at the hospital

would have done. How do you treat a kid who can blast

through anything just by opening his eyes? It's

probably just as well then, that we never made it to

the hospital. A green Volvo station wagon came tearing

around a corner at a busy intersection. The driver

died instantly and I was thrown out of the ambulance

as it spun out of control. It was lucky for me, the

ambulance was then rammed by a series of other cars,

slamming those inside and seriously injuring them. I

skidded along the road and came to a halt in the

gutters of the pavement across the street.

               The first thing that entered my head when I regained

consciousness was that, Thank God, the pain had

stopped. It wasn't until I opened my eyes to see where

I was that the trouble really started. Everything I

saw was red. I could just make out the shop in front

of me but by then it had already been blown to pieces,

those inside, killed. I turned to look around me and I

remember the squeals and screams of all those people,

the sounds of glass exploding and the horrible,

lingering smell of burnt flesh.

               I used to have nightmares about that for years

afterwards.  Belatedly I realized what I was doing and

closed my eyes. But it was already too late. I heard

people screaming in agony but in between their gasps

of pain they managed to yell out "Dirty Mutie!" and "

Get That Mutie! Look what he's done!". Needless to say

I ran out of there like the devil himself was chasing

me. I was so lucky I didn't break something. I didn't

dare open my eyes and I had no idea where I was going,

not idea what was in front of me. I think I even ran

into a brick wall or the side of a house, I don't

know. But I do know that whatever it was it knocked me

out cold, again.

               When I woke up I was somewhere quiet and warm and I

was comfortable. I didn't dare open my eyes for fear

of starting things all over again. It appeared that a

kind old gentleman had found me and taken pity on me.

I saw old because he sounded sophisticated to me, I

actually have no idea how old he was. In the time

between waking up and him introducing himself, I came

to some very painful decisions and realizations. So

when he came in a couple of hours later, I was facing

the window with my face clear of any expression, while

inside I was screaming and crying silent tears of

pain. 

               He asked the obvious questions, "Where are your

parents?" I told him in a dull voice that I had none.

I was a painful interview, I almost felt sorry for

him. I know I wasn't very forthcoming but he was

patient. I'll give him that. He unofficially adopted

me and I lived with him till I was sixteen, when he

died. I have a lot to thank him for. He taught me how

to deal with my 'blindness', for I refused to open my

eyes at all. I came to rely on my other senses,

especially hearing and touch. My sense of smell was

never all that good but it got better with the years.

               I wore black so that I wouldn't have to worry about

colour coordinating my outfits. I was permanently

wearing sunglasses, just so others knew I was blind

and not just walking around with my eyes shut for the

hell of it. I had a stick I used only in public and

when I was with the old man, crowds tended to confuse

and frighten me.  When I went out on my own I used

only my senses. I remember the one day I followed a

bird all the way from our house to a park three and a

half blocks away. It was the most exhilarating day I

spent with the old man in that house. And when he died

I packed all my clothes and some food into a bag and

ran. 

It was only years later when Xavier found me and I was

once again a legal citizen that I realized the old man

had left me everything he'd owned in his will, it

listed me as his son. Somewhere along the line he'd

adopted me for real. And for that alone I'll love him

till I die.

Part: 2

Life never seems to go the way you hope it will. What

happened to the innocence of sitting down and

discussing what we were going to be when we grew up?

I'd expect it of any kid, I think I might have even

had that conversation once. But Fate decided I'd get

the gnarled end of the stick and since that time,

nothing good has ever come of my life.

               The next seven years after I left the old man's

house, were a blur of booze, men and money. I

prostituted myself to any willing man that would have

me. I learnt even more in those years away from

society than I did living up to its ever-changing

standards. I felt free and yet at the same time I was

tied in chains. One of my customers seemed to keep

coming back. It seemed he'd fallen in love with me,

this man called Jack. So we started to live together

in a flat we bought with some of my pay. He took care

of me and I gave him what emotion I was capable of. We

got special rent pay because of my 'disability'

therefore leaving us more money to waste on alcohol.

               Jack kept an eye on the men that came in and made

sure they weren't too bad and looked like they'd be

able to pay. I sent him out to get us our alcohol and

we'd drink ourselves into oblivion. He was good to me

for what it's worth. And I lived like that without a

thought for tomorrow and I didn't care. There were a

few times when Jack was too drunk or hung-over to help

me when one of the customers became a bit brutal. But

when that happened I came to anticipate the danger and

the pain.

               One day I decided to forget about work and I packed a

small bag with my clothes (if you can't tell already,

I was rather attached to them) and my money and I went

for a walk. I’m not entirely sure but I think I left

some money and a note for Jack. That walk took me to a

park where I sat on the ground beside a man in a

wheelchair called Charles Xavier. And ever since then

I have never looked back. Except for that one night at

Logan's bedside where I told him about the orphanage

just to let him hear my voice, I've never told anyone

anything. They all think I was some kind of Boy Scout.

They're not far off though only I'm a self made one.

I'' know the wild streets of New York, not the local

wilderness.

               I didn't offer him anything, I had a feeling he would

be seriously offended so I kept my mouth shut and for

the first time since the 'accident' I thought about my

eyes. I guess Charles wasn't above sneaking into

people's heads at that time because he snooped around,

picked up my thoughts and asked me a heap of questions

about my mutation. We had a jolly old conversation in

which he asked me to come and live with him in his

'house' in Westchester. I agreed because I had nothing

to lose and nothing to look forward to (excuse the

pun) and at least he had a dream.

               I made a life for myself with Xavier and the thought

never entered my head to leave. I helped him to start

things off and he help to educate me that helped when

I eventually started to give lessons. Not bad for a

boy who never went to school! I spent some time with

Jean who arrived shortly after I did, but mostly I

kept to myself, exploring the grounds and finding

niches in which to hide myself. 

               Together with the professor, Jean worked to find a

material that could hold in my optic blasts. I kept

blasting holes in the grounds every time they asked me

to open my eyes that they finally asked me to look at

the sky. Unfortunately a flock of geese were flying

past at the time. But we did get to have roast goose

for dinner a couple of times! 

               I remember I was sitting in the garden when I got the

gift of sight back again. I was fingering a soft rose

petal when I heard Jean approaching with the

professor. They placed the glasses over my eyes and

told me to take a look around, and for the first time

in 10 years I was able to see the world I had been

denied for so long. And it was the first time I saw

what Jean really looked like, I had felt her to try

and piece her looks with the cool voice but I have to

say the image in my head was way off target. I got the

professor pretty down pat though, the voice is a dead

give away.

               So once again I was learning how to cope with my

mutation, only instead of blindness I had sight. The

only thing I longed for was colour. Everything I saw

was red so I stuck to wearing black because even with

sight it's still hard to colour coordinate when you

can't see anything other than red. I don't remember

who made the decision to move in together but sure

enough, Jean's things were sitting next to mine on the

dresser and we were sharing a room. Ororo came and was

placed in a room by herself and so the X-men were all

together. 

               As the school got underway and more and more people

(mutants) arrived, bunks and dormitories were

established making the mansion seem crowded.

Definitely more so than when I arrived. Jean and I

rarely saw each other, other than at meal times and at

night. I had kids to teach, duties of a field leader

to perform and then there was all the mechanical I'd

seemed to have a knack for. Namely the bike I was

working on.

               I was already questioning my relationship with Jean

when the professor wheeled out of Cerebro and told us

that we had to go to Canada and save a couple of

mutants that Magneto was after. I think I'd always

questioned whether I could really love anyone. So Jean

and I had a talk late one night and decided a trial

separation wouldn't hurt us but leave us free to

choose a different path id that was what we wished. 

               We started our separation by my going on the mission

with only Ororo as back up. Jean volunteered to stay

behind and pick up on the classes we'd be missing,

plus she said she had stuff in the lab to do. Charles

took over his share as well. That left me and Ororo

free to take out the Blackbird and rescue these two

mutants. I had no idea what was in store for me when I

zipped up and replaced my glasses with my visor. Ororo

and I figured it was just one of our usual missions.

Little did I know that in the winter wilderness of

Canada I'd lose me heart to a mutant called Wolverine.

               He was unconscious when we reached them and I had to

drag him off the hood of the truck. His body was heavy

because of the adamantium but I managed to drag him

away before his bomb of a truck exploded. It was close

and as soon as my it adrenaline faded my brain

registered that fact that I was lying on top of a very

solid masculine body. I remember I was hard pressed

not to rub myself against him but before I could

disgrace myself Ororo reminded me that I wasn't alone.

It was a very uncomfortable ride back to the mansion

and as soon as we landed I was out in the locker rooms

beating myself off to thoughts of the warmth, feel and

scent of the mysterious man. 

               When the professor mentally called us into his office

I had calmed myself down and was fiddling with my

bike. I knew that he'd been taken down to the med lab

and I figured he'd see Jean, I just hoped he wasn't

attracted to her. It wouldn’t' suit my purposes at

all. So I entered Xavier's office in a mixture of

anticipation and dread. He was even more devastating

and stimulating awake and I could feel y blood heating

up. I extended my hand politely, half expecting him to

knock it aside but it was merely ignored. His eyes

were locked on my face and I tired to shrug off his

rejection. My plans were sliding downhill and they

went down faster when Jean came in and his eyes

followed her like she was a bitch in heat. I switched

off when the professor started his spiel about

Magneto, preferring to breath in Logan's scent and

listen to the rumble of his voice. I was jarred back

to reality when I heard his dry chuckle and watched,

my heart beating faster in anticipation as he turned

towards me and grabbed me, pulling me close. I heard

him inhale, his eyes dilating as something too quick

to identify flashed in his eyes. It was what he said

that broke the spell and provoked me to raise an

eyebrow at the professor, silently asking him to

intervene. Xavier immediately became protective and

assaulted Logan with fragments from his past life that

he'd picked up in passing through his mind. Logan was

not impressed but I just couldn't seem to wipe the

smug smile off my face.

               I asked Jean what she though of him whilst I was

helping her move her stuff to another room across the

hall from mine. Not much of a separation but it was a

start and it wanted to take it one step at a time,

slowly weaning ourselves of each other. She told me

she thought Logan was lost and that something bad had

happened to him. Her exact words were, "I don't really

know what to think of him. But he seems a bit lost to

me. Something must have happened to him. I mean you

told me about the claws and, I don't know. Someone had

to have put them there because they're not his."

               We were silent for the rest of the moving, for my

part I was considering all the different scenarios

with which having claws implanted inside you would

figure in. I shuddered at the mere thought of some

unknown people abusing that magnificent body for the

sake of some bizarre…experiment. Eventually we

finished at exactly the same time Jean was supposed to

meet Logan down at the mad lab for a more successful

set of tests. She seems to live for them. So I

wandered off to play with my bike again. 

               Something was nagging me though. The feelings Logan

evoked in me were too reminiscent of my time as a

whore and I wasn't really sure what to do. One thing I

wanted though, other than to fuck him senseless, was

to start over. So with that in mind I found myself

walking down the hall to his room that night with the

hopes of starting afresh. That and also I needed new

sensory material for that night's beat show. 

               I remember hearing Jean's voice as well as Logan's

and I plastered myself to the doorjamb to stay

unobserved.

"Why don't you read my mind?" he asked, a blatant

invitation, "I don't think so," Jean replied. Good

girl, I thought to myself.

"Afraid you might like it?" I'm afraid I would. Jean

just smirked and said, "I doubt it." But she broke the

frivolous, bantering atmosphere the second she raised

her hands to read his mind. She'd closed her eyes to

concentrate only to open them a few seconds later with

a gasp. Logan grabbed her hands as she'd made to move

away and with an intent look asked her in a serious

tone, "What did you see?" 

               I'd leaned forward as well, also wanting to know what

she'd seen but she saw me move and used my presence as

a scapegoat to get out of explaining it. And with a

sigh of relief she'd tugged her hands free and

breathed out my name before quickly waling out. She'd

touched my arm as she'd passed as if to say 'sorry for

using you like that'. I merely nodded as to silently

say it was all right. And then I'd turned back to see

Logan standing in the middle of the room looking as

alone as I've felt my entire life. He had a sad and

resigned look on his face before he turned to me with

a light curl of his lip. 

"You gonna tell me to stay away from your girl?" he'd

asked. My first thought was 'hell yes!' Because I

reasoned if he was staying away from Jean then he was

free for me to go after. I merely said, "If she was my

girl I wouldn't have to." I figured I was giving him

an opening with that one. But I was just met with

silence. The man's a hard as an elephant's arse! He

pissed me off so I decided to hit back. "It must

really burn you up that a boy like me saved your life.

Better be careful, I might not be there next time." I

paused to give him a chance to react at all. I'd

searched his face for any sign at all but he'd just

looked at me as if to say 'why are you doing this?'.

And the answer is I have no idea. Suddenly I'd lost

all my nerve and started afresh suddenly didn't seem

like all that good an idea. So I found my refuge in

mockery, "Oh and Logan, stay away from my girl." And I

walked away mentally kicking myself for being a

coward. But at least I'd seen him and my dreams

wouldn't be lonely that night.

Part 3

Logan's POV

I'm finding the longer I’m out here the more I miss

him. The long, snow-covered roads seem so dull without

him here. I'm starting to realize how truly lonely

searching for the past can be. It can't be like this

for all those kids who go looking for their real

parents. This is nothing like it. I'm alone and I'm

searching for a past I can't remember. There's a lot

people don't know about me but then there's a lot I

don't know about myself and usually the two go hand in

hand. There was one who helped though,

unintentionally. I don't even know if he realizes how

much he's done for me, or just how much he's come to

mean to me.

               It's kinda hard to hold on to that hope out here in

this frozen land. There's just too much open road that

gives you too much time to think. And I've been doing

a shit load of that. I probably should've thought

about just where I was going before I filched his

bike. There's no radio to listen to music to distract

me from my thoughts and then there's the whole open to

the freezing, biting wind thing. I probably should've

taken a truck or something that was a bit more

covered. But then I wouldn't be riding his bike. It's

partly why I took it, to have a part of him with me as

I went and chased down those elusive demons from my

past. The other part was just to piss him off; he

looks so adorable when he's all riled up. And I seemed

to be pretty good at pissing him off; it kinda became

a game with us.

               The first time I saw him was blurry, I was reeling

from the blow 'Sabertooth' had given be with that

tree. The thing that stood out the most, though, was

his visor. Well why the hell wouldn't it, it takes up

half his face. The next time I saw him the professor

introduced him as 'Scott Summers, also called

Cyclops'. I was stunned. I think he stuck his hand out

politely to be shaken but I can honestly say I didn't

see it. I was looking at his face. So many angles with

such classic beauty. The doc entering broke the spell

though.  I saw the look she sent Xavier and I was

seriously confused. She was lusting after Wheels? I

followed her progress with my eyes, she was definitely

working it. I can remember the single thought that ran

through my head then, Interesting. 

               The one thing I long for right now as I drive through

the Rockies, is to see him smile. Not once when he and

I were in the same room did I ever see him smile. No

wait, he did smile, when I ripped into the metal

detectors at the Statue of Liberty. I liked that

smile, it lit up his whole face. I don't really know

what I did but he seemed to hate me right away. Well

not really hate but I suppose dislike. But if you look

at it from a different point of view, I got to wear

one of his leather suits. I wonder if he goes commando

under those things…. It's definitely food for thought.

               I've lived a long time, seen a lot and yes I've