Sweeping Exits
by
Eiluned
Author's Archive: http://www.phoenixfyre.net/Eiluned
Archive: Yes to anyone who already has my permission. Everyone else ask first.
Disclaimer: They belong to Marvel. Obviously.
Warnings: Main character death. Lots and lots of angst. Some sexual content. Unhappy ending.
Notes: Partly inspired by the cell scene in X-Factor #61, though it doesn't take place then. Also inspired by my crappy, post-holiday mood. Ah, catharsis fic. I really had to fight a happy ending on this one.
"I know I dreamed you a sin and a lie
I have my freedom but I don't have much time
Faith has been broken, tears must be cried
Let's do some living after we die"
The Rolling Stones, "Wild Horses"
~*~*~*~
"I guess this is it."
Logan looked up from his contemplation of the cell's cold floor. Jean was curled up in a corner, knees drawn up to her chest to try and conserve some body heat, staring listlessly at the steel door. "Why do you say that?" he asked, even though he didn't really feel like putting on an optimistic face.
She gave a short, humorless laugh. "Why shouldn't I say that?" she replied bitterly. "Look at us. Look at where we are. The rest of the team is dead. Neither of us has our powers. And the next time that door opens, we're going to end up with bullets in our skulls. This is it. We're dead."
Logan pushed his hands back through his hair. He knew what she was saying was true, but he didn't want to accept it. "Never thought I'd go like this," he said darkly. "I always wished I'd die fighting. But now? Now I get to bite it in some goddamn prison for mutants. I can't even pop my claws 'cause I'll bleed to death."
"Why not do it? Wouldn't you rather die on your own terms?" she asked.
Logan stared at his hands for a long moment, wondering how it would feel to bleed to death. "Because that would leave you here alone, and I'm not gonna do that," he answered.
The bitter smile was back. "You don't think I'd be able to figure out a way to kill myself?" she said. "If you popped your claws, I could just cut my wrists with them."
"Jesus Christ, Jean--"
She rubbed her eyes. "Sorry. I... I've never really thought about suicide before. Not seriously, anyway, no matter what kind of situation I was in. But this--" she waved her hands around at the cell "--there's no way out of this. We're hundreds of feet underground. This time, there's no one to come to our rescue. Our X-genes have been neutralized, and I don't know if our powers will ever come back, even if we survive this. Even if we don't have our powers, we're still mutants. The Pro-Human régime wouldn't ever leave us alone. Life wouldn't be worth living.
"It just... it just seems like death is the best option. And I don't want to die looking down the barrel of a government gun."
The cell was silent for a long time, but there was an air of agreement. "So," Logan said finally. "We're dead."
"I guess so."
"I'm sorry if I ever gave you any grief, Jeannie."
She looked at him curiously. "Why do you say that?"
He ran his hands through his hair again. "We're dead. Might as well get everything straight between us."
She nodded slowly, rubbing her arms through the sleeves of her shirt. "Okay. I'm sorry I never came to you after Scott was killed."
Logan looked at her sharply. "Jean. It never would have worked--"
"You don't know that," she cut him off. "No one knows that. I'm just sorry that I never tried. I always cared about you, more than you'll ever know. I loved Scott, but toward the end, it wasn't a marriage anymore. I wish I would have gotten out of it and learned to stand on my own two feet. I regret that more than anything.
"But I want to thank you for rejecting me."
He gave her a surprised look. "Why?"
She was watching him sadly. "Because... I never would have been able to forgive myself if you hadn't. I wanted you, but I was just lonely. I would have been using you. I was being selfish. I would never have wanted to use you like that."
"I knew that."
Tears that he hadn't noticed spilled over her eyelashes and trailed down her cheeks. "You did?" she said.
"Why do you think I pushed you away? I knew what you were doing, and I knew that you weren't doing it to be selfish. You were in a bad place, darlin'. I'd never hold that against you, but I wasn't gonna let you hurt yourself."
She covered her face with her hands, and he looked away while she pulled herself together. "Thank you," she said quietly. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
She slowly crawled over until she was sitting beside him, shoulder to shoulder. "If I had come to you after Scott was gone, would you have taken me?" she asked, her voice unsteady.
Logan exhaled heavily. "After Mariko, I never loved anyone more than I love you. I would have taken you in a heartbeat. I just didn't want to have to let you go, and if I hadn't pushed you away that day, that's what would have happened. I lost M'iko. I didn't want to lose you, too."
He could see her shoulders shaking out of the corner of his eye, and he turned and wrapped his arms around her. She pressed her face into his shoulder, her arms sliding around him, her tears soaking through his shirt. "God, Logan," she cried, "I didn't want it to end like this."
He slid her over into his lap, holding her tightly. "I know. Neither did I, darlin'."
After a few more wracking sobs, she lifted her face and slid her fingers into his hair, staring at him intensely. Slowly, so slowly, she leaned forward and kissed him, lips so soft against his. He pulled back slightly to look at her, tasting the salt of her tears on his lips. "What are you doing, Jeannie?" he whispered.
She closed her eyes, tears running down her cheeks. "I... I don't want to die without ever... without knowing what it's like--"
He kissed her before she could finish, kissed her hard, one hand coming up to tangle in her hair. She sucked in a surprised breath, then relaxed into his embrace, her mouth opening under his, tongue sliding against his. He shifted her until she was pressed completely against him, her legs straddling his hips.
They kissed, hands moving greedily over each other, trying to experience everything there was to be experienced in a split second. He unbuttoned her shirt, but she ripped his open, refusing to waste a precious second. He pulled away from her mouth to gasp when she pressed her bared chest against his. She yanked the buttons on his pants loose next, her cool hands sliding inside to touch him, and he moaned, fingers tightening in her hair.
She fused her mouth to his again, pushing her tongue against his frantically. Everything was suddenly frantic. They didn't have much time, they both realized. She lifted up off of him and kicked one of her boots off, then squirmed her pants down and off of that leg while he pushed his own trousers down over his hips.
When she settled back down against him, Logan hissed with pleasure. She was hot and wet and soft, so very soft. Holding her hips, he shifted her up, then down onto his erection, pushing her down until he was fully seated inside of her.
"Oh god!" she cried softly, her head falling back.
Sinking his fingers into her hair, he pulled her mouth back to his, pulled her body against his until they were pressed together as closely as they could get. Holding her waist, he lifted her and pushed her back down, encouraging her to move. Licking at his tongue, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and started moving, meeting his thrusts.
Neither of them could last very long. There was too much desperation and not enough time to experience years of unrequited passion. Jean dug her fingers into his shoulders, muffling her cries against his lips, coming with a sob. He growled, pleasure wracking through his body. Crushing her against him, he came deep inside of her, holding her tightly.
After a few breathless moments, Jean slowly lifted herself off of him and pulled her pants back on. "I guess it's time," she whispered, buttoning her shirt.
Logan pulled his pants back up automatically, accepting the inevitable but not wanting to think about it. She moved his hands and settled back in his lap, kissing him again. "I know that this is not goodbye," she whispered, eyes dry but so very sad.
"I'll see you in the next life, Jeannie," he replied, squeezing her tightly.
He spread his arms out to the sides and released his claws, felt the sharp, burning pain rip through his hands, felt the sudden, uncontrolled gush of blood. After just a few seconds, he felt the dizzying rush that accompanied blood loss. He'd felt it before, but he'd always recovered. This time, he knew he wouldn't.
He felt Jean lift his right hand, felt her soft fingers on his skin, felt pressure once, twice on his claws. She sagged against him, the side of her face pressed against his. He could feel warm blood soaking into his clothes, but he couldn't tell whose it was. He turned his head until he was facing her, pressing his lips against hers gently. "I love you," she said faintly against his mouth.
"Love you..."
He could hear heavy footfalls in the hall outside of their cell, but he didn't care anymore. They died on their own terms.
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