Take Care of Him

This first chapter is only an R, next and any others will all be NC17! I just needed to set this up a little first....

Thanks to Alex for the beta as always!! *hugs*

Enjoy!!

“Take care of him.”

Logan could still hear those words echo in his head, reverberating as if he had just heard her say them out loud. It had been four months since Jean died, four months during which her unspoken last words to him had haunted him, four months since he started doing just what she told him to do; take care of Scott.

This was all new to Logan, the way in which he felt not only the obligation to stay anywhere, but also a real desire to stay here. The halls of this great school had somehow become his home, and the X men had become the family he had never had, the friends he had never wanted, the life he could not remember. Xavier had come to mean more to Logan than he ever had thought possible, like a father to him, like a father to everyone that walked through those doors, looking for a place to call their own. That is why he stayed long past the time when he normally would have run, that and the silent pledge he had made to Jean on the night that she had sacrificed herself for all of them, while his arms trembled with not only the weight of a sobbing Scott in his arms, but with an overwhelming sensation of destiny finally making its call.

It was easy for him, easier than he thought it would be. The fact that he was, and always had been attracted to Scott helped. It was easy to want to be near him; in fact, all he wanted to do was be near him, next to him, under him, above him, inside of him. He smiled often, in spite of himself, when he thought of how shocked Jeannie must have been when she finally figured out that it was Scott that he wanted, not her. In fact, all of them, Scott included, assumed that Logan had been after her; none of them figured that his preference was for the male species. Sure, Logan had been with his share of women, and back in his bar room brawler days he would take home a different one every night, but he quickly grew bored with most of them. He preferred the harder body of a man; the roughness of the play and the forbidden nature of the pursuit were like a drug to him. One taste and he wanted, needed more.


****

Scott paced the room, as usual not being able to sleep. He had not slept much since Jean died, for in dreams she would come to him, try to ease his pain, and for agonizingly short moments he would be healed, he would feel whole again. Inevitably, the dream would end and the reality of his life would come flooding back to him, along with the pain and the incredible feeling of loneliness that lingered in his soul. It had been four months, and at first everyone had been achingly kind to him, smothering him in a way that he could not handle. He was Cyclops damn it, the team leader and the kid who had been poised to someday command these halls. He did not want to be treated like a hurt child, nor did he care for the pathetic looks of sympathy that it seemed everyone gave him these days.

Well, not everyone. Oddly enough, the one person he could stand to be around, the one person who did not look at him as if he was some pathetic, heartbroken sloth, even if in reality that was indeed what he had become, was Logan. Wolverine and he had gotten off on the wrong foot from the beginning, and it had not helped that every woman in the building, and really even some of the guys, had a thing for him, including Jean. She never would have admitted to it, not out loud anyway, but Scott had seen it in her eyes, in the way her body would react to Logan. It was something primal, something that he and Jean, no matter how in love with each other they had ever been, simply never had. He hated it, hated the way that the man commanded attention by just being in a room. Yet now, in an odd sort of way, he found that being around Logan brought him comfort, figuring that it must somehow stem from the bond that Jean seemed to have had with him.

Still, that was no reason to stay and Scott shook his head at the memory while he stuffed what little belongings he had into a small duffel bag. He had originally planned on leaving in the morning, perhaps at least saying goodbye to them first, not that they would care much that he was going. His bet was that at least in a small way, they would feel relieved that he was no longer their concern. This was better; he knew they were all likely asleep and it would make it that much easier to just walk out the door, walk out of their lives forever. He threw the duffel bag haphazardly over his shoulder while a familiar moisture threatened to spill from his eyes.

****

Logan tossed and turned until he could toss and turn no longer, threw on a thin pair of sleep pants to cover his nude form and decided on a walk around the mansion. By day, the mansion was a beauty. By night she was spooky, and with the full moon shining through her expansive windows, she felt downright eerie, something that Logan had always found appealing. As he was about to turn and walk toward the stairs, which were close to his room, he gave a quick glance down the other end of the hall, noticing a soft light from a crack in the door to Scott’s room. He silently made his way down the hall and stood in front of Scott’s door. What he saw at first broke his hardened heart, and then angered him in a way that surprised even himself.

Scott stood in the middle of the nearly empty room, hands pressed over his human eyes. Over one shoulder he had a duffel bag, and in one hand he held his glasses. At first Logan didn’t understand. He had never seen the kid without some form of glasses on, but when he saw Scott wipe his eyes, when he heard the soft sniffling that he had often heard coming from Scott’s room late at night, he knew. He watched in continued silence as Scott put them back on, but not before a strong urge of wanting to see those naked eyes washed over him, catching him completely off guard. This was the part that broke his heart, broke him down. As Jean’s words filled his head yet again, he felt this compelling need to do what he was supposed to do; take care of him. He, in a very unlike him sort of way, wanted to rush in, gather Scott in his arms and soothe him, make it better.

Just as quickly as the first emotion had swept in, another gripped him. That duffel bag over the shoulder, the tears, the cleared out room, they only meant one thing. Scott was planning on leaving. Anger suddenly coursed through Logan like an unbelievable torrent and he was no longer content to stand placid at the door, hiding in the shadows.