Title: End of the Road
Author: Lisea
Pairing: S/J
Rating: PG
Notes:
The end's a bit angsty. So is the middle. Now that I think of it, so
is the beginning.
Summary: Scott, on the day after.
Warning: If you haven't seen the movie.. big
spoilers in this one.
***
She had left her shirt on
the back of the chair.
That's the first thing Scott had
noticed when he came back to their room. His room, now. He took the
shirt, sat on the bed and pressed the shirt against his face,
inhaling the scent in.
She had left her necklace on the
bedside table, as well. Scott took it, ran a finger over the
pendant.
A phoenix. Jean had had an obsession with the myth
for as long as he could remember.
Death, rebirth, a new life
rising from the ashes.
If only.
Suddenly furious, he
threw the pendant across the room, against the wall. Hard enough to
leave a mark on the paint.
Why the hell did you leave the
jet, Jeannie?
Why the hell didn't you let me be with you in
the end?
He couldn't stand to be in the room. Everywhere he
looked, reminded him of Jean. Still in his uniform, he grabbed his
coat and car keys and walked out of the room, slamming the door shut
in the process.
***
His Mazda was gone, as well. He
couldn't care much, since it reminded him of her. He had taken her
for a ride at least once a week ever since he had bought the car. So
he slung the keys where the car used to be, and grabbed the keys for
his black Ford from the board on the wall.
"Scott?" Logan
said. He had followed him from the main hall.
Scott didn't
reply. He opened the door to the Ford, but before he could close it,
Logan grabbed the door and wouldn't let him. "Where are you going,
Scott?"
Scott looked up at him. "Scott? Not One-Eye, Boy
Scout, or any other of the ingenious names you used to call
me?"
"Where are you going?"
"Let go of the door,
Logan."
"Give me a reason. Scott."
"Fine."
An
optic blast sent Logan flying through the garage, and he hit the
back wall hard enough for the small windows to shake. Scott slammed
the door shut and hit the accelerator. When Logan came to, the only
thing he could see was the black tire marks on the floor, the smoke
around them, and the backlights in the
distance.
***
80 mph.
82 mph.
85
mph.
The count kept rising, even through the curves. But
Scott handled the car with expertise. Not surprising, since he had
built the motor himself.
A long stretch of road laid ahead,
with a sharp curve at the end. The road was flanked by thick trees,
and if he lost control, he could trust to find himself wrapped
around one in a heap of metal.
He closed his eyes.
The
car kept going, he kept his foot on the accelerator.
The car
was almost at the curve. The headlights shone on the massive oaks by
the road up ahead.
He kept his eyes closed.
*Scott, don't!*
His eyes snapped open, he
turned the wheel, and the car turned accordingly and kept itself on
the road.
Jean. But had he really heard it, or was it just a
figment of his own imagination?
***
The car stopped at
it's usual place in the garage. Scott got out and went to put the
keys on the board.
After going back into his room, he fell
back on the bed and stared at the ceiling.
*Jean?*
The name kept echoing in his head, but he couldn't hear her voice
anymore. She was gone from his head, after years of their
relationship, and the psychic bond they shared.
Used to
share.
He felt empty, alone.
But also aware of the
faint, comforting tingle in the back of his mind.