Adrift

A/N: Many thanks to IcyWaters, my enthusiastic beta reader. :)

This story takes place during the second movie. It starts with Logan and Bobby talking in the kitchen at night.

* * *

**Adrift**

by immertreu

June 29, 2014

* * *

"So..." Logan lounged in his chair and observed the younger mutant seated opposite him at the kitchen table. Bobby seemed lost in his own thoughts after confessing his problems regarding Rogue.

Logan cleared his throat and tried again. "What's up with Cyclops?"

"Huh?" Bobby finally looked up and regarded his nightly visitor with unveiled curiosity.

"What do you mean?"

Logan took another swig from his bottle – urgh, lemonade! – and shrugged. "What's the real deal? Why does the Professor keep him around?" He wasn't prepared for the icy glare Bobby shot him. "What?" he said defensively. "What did I say?"

Bobby looked at him for a full minute, and Logan got the feeling he had been measured up – and found lacking. The Iceman's voice was carefully neutral when he spoke. "Mr. Summers is the best teacher this school has." He raised a hand to fend off Logan's interruption, and continued, "He also runs this place. In the Professor's name, of course, but Professor Xavier is only one man – and a very busy one at that – and can hardly do everything himself, right?"

Logan nodded. He couldn't object to that.

Bobby started ticking off points with his fingers. "He's a mediator. The counselor for the new kids at school who are too afraid to talk to the Professor or Dr. Grey because they're mind-readers. He's the field leader of the X-Men, of course. The repairman for everything that has wheels or wings…" He chuckled slightly at that, obviously thinking of the jet hidden under the basketball court, but turned serious very quickly again. "In short, he's what keeps this school running, no matter how big or small the task. He's Dr. Grey's better half."

Pointedly ignoring Logan's grunt in reaction to his comment, Bobby added, "He's the Professor's surrogate son who, from what I've heard, was up shit creak without a paddle when the Professor found him but managed to get through nonetheless."

Logan's eyebrows rose.

"Dr. Grey and the Professor rely on him whenever they need to go out in public." Bobby paused to think for a second and finally said with conviction, "He's the big brother everyone wishes for, the favorite uncle most of us never had, and the father-figure we didn't even know we needed." Suddenly embarrassed, he broke off and turned back to staring at the ice cream melting in front of him. He picked up his spoon again but didn't eat. He let it drop into the container a few seconds later and glared at Logan who hadn't expected this vigorous defense of his least favorite X-Man.

"I realize you don't like him – and why – but you're judging someone you don't even know."

Damn, the kid was brave! Logan didn't know many grown men who would talk to the Wolverine in this way. But Bobby still wasn't finished.

"You think he's just this stick in the mud who happened to come by his position with luck and favoritism because he was one of the first students here, but I'm telling you, it's not true."

The air in the kitchen had become considerably cooler. Realizing what he'd done, Bobby took a deep breath to calm down and sat back, finally breaking eye contact. "Sorry," he mumbled, turning back into an insecure teenager within seconds. The change was startling, and Logan was glad he'd witnessed it. This young man would become a great leader one day, he was sure of that. He still needed time to grow into it, but he definitely had the quick wit and outspoken personality to go very far.

Logan tried to play it cool – no pun intended. "No worries," he said, and picked up his bottle again. Gulping down some of his too-sweet beverage, he went over the list Bobby had provided and suddenly started chuckling.

The younger mutant looked at him as if he'd lost his mind.

Logan put down his drink and grinned at Bobby. "I was just thinking…how does he do it?"

"What?"

Seeing the incomprehension on Bobby's face, Logan elaborated. "You make him sound like Superman. Doesn't he ever sleep? No man can do all that and not collapse within a few weeks."

The young man started grinning, too. "I don't know. You'd need to ask him that. In his defense, though, not every day is as mad as the ones you've witnessed here. Normally, this is just a school with a few unusual subjects like 'how to master your mutant power' or 'never hurt anyone with your powers', kids trying to fit in and grumbling about too much homework, and the usual teenage drama."

"I see." Such grown-up observations coming from one of said teenagers' mouths was incongruous to Logan, but he didn't comment on it.

They stayed silent for a while, both of them caught in their own trains of thought, until Logan spoke up. "So, he's your favorite teacher? Why?" He couldn't stop himself, he was like a dog with the proverbial bone sometimes. Maybe he just enjoyed torturing himself?

Bobby's answer wasn't what he'd expected. "Because he lets you get away with stuff."

"Huh?" That made no sense at all, and Logan said so. Bobby smirked.

"He's very passionate about teaching and good at it, too, but that's not the reason. It's just that he knows what most of us have been through and respects that. He doesn't try to coddle us or lie to us about it, he accepts us the way we are, and he knows to leave you be when you're having a bad day. He never calls you out on it in front of everybody, but he makes it is his policy to always leave his office door open afterwards so you know you can talk to him no matter what."

He paused, then added, "It's not that you can't go to the Professor or Dr. Grey or Mrs. Munroe, but it's…easier with him. I know the girls usually prefer Mrs. Munroe, but not me." He shrugged, self-conscious. "The Professor is very kind, but talking to a telepath can be infuriating sometimes, you know?"

They shared a smile. Logan couldn't have said it better himself. He still had trouble putting everything he'd heard about Scott Summers in the right context, though. To him, Cyclops seemed a spoiled kid who hadn't even reached thirty, looked ten years younger, and definitely didn't deserve the likes of the beautiful and smart Jean Grey.

What he'd heard tonight and – if he was being honest with himself – what he had witnessed on Liberty Island and around the mansion, painted a portrait of a man more complex than Logan wanted to admit. It was a portrait of a competent although still-learning leader with too many responsibilities on his slim shoulders; a role model and good friend to his motley group of students; and someone who tried everything in his power to please the father figure in his life after pulling himself out of whatever troubles he'd been in as a kid.

Logan never got around to ordering these thoughts because at that moment his fine-tuned ears picked up on familiar noises that shouldn't be there: combat boots on wooden boards, the rustling of heavy fabric, the sizzling of a taser being activated.

And then all hell broke loose.

* * *

Not even twenty-four hours – and what felt like an eternity – later, the world had tilted. Logan held a sobbing Scott Summers in his arms, trying to come to terms with the fact that Jean was gone, just gone. Another part of his brain realized the absurdity of the situation, and the heartbreak of it. Rivals from the moment they first met, divided by the love for the same woman, they were now indefinitely bound together by their common pain.

Logan was under no illusion that his grief was as crushing as the one Scott was feeling, but his heart ached unbearably nonetheless. Yet he hadn't lost his soul mate, his companion for god-knows how many years, so he tried his best to keep upright and endure Cyclops' violent onslaught without fighting back and hurting the younger man even more.

He hadn't meant to make him snap with his comment, but the realization that Jean was dead had come unbidden and violently, and Logan's remark had made it past his lips before he could stop himself. He would never have expected the usually so quiet and controlled Scott to launch himself at Logan in helpless fury. It wasn't how he'd wanted to find out how much spirit the kid really hid behind those impassive glances and the impenetrable red lenses of his glasses.

If Logan had often wished Scott Summers to go to hell because of his infuriating calmness and sheer goodness in everything he did, this was not what he'd had in mind. No one deserved this kind of agony.

Feeling the children's eyes on them from the back of the jet, Logan tried to calm Scott down long enough to get him strapped into a seat, but the younger man resisted letting go or moving with all the strength he had left, still letting out those anguished sobs that broke Logan's heart.

The Professor seemed equally as shaken, staring ahead without seeing or noticing anything. Looking for the essence of Jean's mind, perhaps?

Storm was busy flying the jet while crying silent tears of her own, so it was up to Logan to make sure Scott didn't hurt himself in his senseless pain.

Kurt had fallen silent as well, having finished the 23rd psalm – how Logan even knew what kind of prayer the German had said was quite beyond him – and had slunk back to his seat after checking up on the children. They were as shocked as everyone else but seemed unhurt if only a little cold.

Logan was very glad that Scott wore his visor and not just his glasses because they might have slipped off by now. On the other hand, Scott was obviously crying. So where did all the tears go? He must be drowning under his visor!

"Scott!" He slightly shook the unresponsive man who still clung to him, sobbing his heart out. Logan tried again, "Come on, Scott, you need to sit down." He gently tried to pry Scott's hands away from his uniform, but because he didn't want to break any fingers, he didn't succeed in his endeavor. He only got another violent shake in return.

Beginning to get angry and not knowing how to handle the unstable – and definitely dangerous – man in his arms, Logan reverted to a last resort he'd hoped he'd never have to try. He carefully raised his free hand, but the moment his fingers touched the strap of Scott's visor, the other man jerked and jumped back, as far away from Logan as the cramped jet would allow. So he wasn't totally gone as Logan had feared.

They glared daggers at each other, Logan with his arms raised in surrender, Scott's right hand touching the dial of his visor, the other one balled into a fist by his side. Logan spoke calmly. "Easy, there. I wasn't about to take it off, but I needed you to come to your senses. You're scaring the kids."

Scott flinched as if slapped. Logan knew it was a cheap shot, but it was the best he could think of right then. Scott still didn't reply, though.

The Professor's voice cut into the loaded silence. "Scott." He didn't shout. In fact, his summons wasn't more than a whisper, but it was enough. Scott was by his side in a flash, getting down on his knees in front of his mentor who had just lost his surrogate daughter, and took his hand.

Unbidden, another memory rose to the surface of Logan's mind. The last time he'd seen Scott similarly distraught, the young man had been standing at the head of the gurney where his surrogate father lay in a coma after his "accident" within Cerebro. Logan had always thought he'd imagined the kid's hitched breathing when passing him. Now he wasn't so sure anymore.

Finally being able to move again, Logan returned to the cockpit and sat down in the co-pilot's seat. Ororo didn't say anything but nodded once in thanks, not hiding the tears drying on her cheeks. Logan looked back at Scott and the Professor and saw the younger man reaching up to rub his eyes under the visor obscuring his face. Satisfied that Scott had calmed down enough to do this, he faced front again and leaned back against the headrest, finally closing his own bloodshot eyes.

Jean was gone. Dammit, it hurt.

* * *

Scott held up better than Logan would have expected after his breakdown on the jet. He'd half-feared he would have to drag Cyclops with him when they went to confront the president after taking the kids to safety and collecting Kitty, but he'd followed the Professor's wheelchair like a lost puppy, never letting the older man out of his sight.

Logan could see how much it cost Scott to just stand there in the Oval Office and listen to the Professor and the president talking, but he made no sound. The pain on his half-visible face was unmistakable, though, and the president actually flinched when he caught sight of him in the flash of Storm's angry lightning bolts.

Afterwards, they returned home in silence, and Logan was starting to get really worried. The kid hadn't said a word since his outburst.

The Professor confirmed it after Scott had shuffled away to get some rest – probably influenced by a heavy dose of mental suggestion. He'd looked dead on his feet and didn't even react when Logan gently pushed him in the direction of the stairs leading to his – and Jean's – shared room. They could only hope he wouldn't pass out the moment he entered it.

Scott's old mentor shook his head sadly. "No, Logan, he hasn't talked to me either. That is not unusual with him, it is how he coped when he first came to me after…"

He didn't continue, and Logan didn't pry. Instead he asked, "Are you okay, Professor?"

He got a tired smile in response. "I will be. Now why don't you get changed and find something to eat as well? We need to tell the other children as soon as possible and prepare everything for their speedy return."

"Of course." Logan turned to go and paused by the door of the Professor's study. "Do you want me to check up on Scott?"

"I think we should leave him be for the moment." The Professor sighed heavily. "I'll look in on him in an hour. I just wish…" Again, he didn't finish his sentence but stared off into space, lost in his thoughts.

Logan quietly slipped out the door.

**The End**


End file.
