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Fic: Forever Doesn't Mean Forever - 1/1 (Scott POV)

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  • victoria p.
    Title: Forever Doesn t Mean Forever Author: Victoria P. [victoria_p@att.net] Summary: Forever doesn t mean forever / Just maybe some other time or place / How
    Message 1 of 1 , Jul 20, 2001
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      Title: Forever Doesn't Mean Forever
      Author: Victoria P. [victoria_p@...]
      Summary: "Forever doesn't mean forever / Just maybe some other time or
      place / How can two souls still eat together / when life has lost its
      Rating: PG
      Disclaimer: All X-Men characters belong to Marvel and Fox; this piece of
      fan-written fiction intends no infringement on any copyrights.
      Archive: Lists, Muse's Fool - if you've already got my stuff, knock
      yourself out. If you want, ask first. I'll say yes.
      Feedback: Please - it staves off the existential crises
      Notes: Thanks to Dot, Meg, Jen, and Pete. And to Kurt Wallinger, whose
      "And I Fell Back Alone" was played incessantly during the writing of
      this fic.


      Forever Doesn't Mean Forever

      It wasn't anybody's fault. Sometimes forever doesn't mean forever. It
      could mean they'll be together in some other time or place. But now, he
      has to go. He can't stay and watch their love die.

      There's no blame to assign, he knows, as he packs up the accumulation of
      eight years spent together. Eight years, and it fits into the two small
      boxes he carries down the hall.

      He insisted she stay in the room that had been theirs. She'd decorated
      it, all rich greens and golds, the perfect background for her fiery
      coloring. He couldn't see it anyway, it was all reds and pinks to him.

      He walks to the room that is now his. Its walls bare of any reminder
      that he has just left eight years of his life behind, eight years
      invested in a woman he can no longer honestly say he knows.

      She has changed. "We all change," she insisted, when he'd brought it up.
      "Life is change. Growth. You've changed, too."

      And it's the truth. They've both changed, grown beyond each other --
      that desperate need to cling they'd felt all those years ago, when they
      were two lost souls who'd felt no one else could understand them.

      She had met him as a boy and he's become a man -- a good man, a caring
      man, a leader. She'd been a woman already when they first fell in love,
      and now she is a doctor, a warrior, an icon.

      He likes to think that he shapes his own life, that fate is nothing but
      a fairy tale, but she believes biology is destiny in the end. Perhaps it
      is her study of genetics that enforces this belief. He feels it now --
      the pressure of outside forces, molding her into Dr. Jean Grey,
      geneticist, mutant-rights activist, and now, candidate for the Senate.

      He no longer understands this woman; her drive to succeed far outstrips
      his. He is a perfectionist, true, spending time on the little details,
      so the whole is harmonious, right. But he seeks perfection in small
      things -- the silent swing of a door-hinge, the purr of a well-tuned
      engine, the landing of the Blackbird, finally smooth and free from
      jarring bumps.

      He smiles at this last, remembering his joy in flight. He knows this
      isn't the end of the world -- he can still smile, still feel, still fly
      west into the gleaming sun. With the Blackbird, he can follow the sun
      round the world, and never see night fall.

      He needs that reassurance now, that the sun will come up tomorrow,
      because he feels as though he's lost the center of his universe. All
      roads lead to Jean, all things are drawn into her orbit, and he's
      suddenly been cut free.

      He drifts, aimlessly, through the next days and weeks. He knows that
      they all talk about him, whisper behind his back, but he doesn't care.

      He knows it's not his fault, not anybody's fault. She wants a life in
      the public eye, wants to make the world a better place. He wants the
      latter, too, but knows he's not cut out for the former. He will work in
      the shadows, with the X-Men, while she leads the fight from within the

      Eventually, they will become friends. She will fall in love with someone
      else, someone who is ready for the spotlight, willing to be that silent
      yet highly visible support. He will find a soulmate, perhaps even here
      among his other friends.

      All he knows, as he finally hangs a picture on the wall, is that this
      was not what he expected, this is not what he thought life had in store.
      But time and life can't be shaped like wood or metal, and he is at a
      loss to describe how the changes that opened this gulf between them came

      Time is not kind, he learns, and life is not fair. Platitudes he's
      mouthed over and over to the children in his care, but only after months
      of sleeping alone does he understand their truth, feeling it from balls
      to bones.

      He watches her on television that night, and whispers, "Good luck, my
      love," as she waits for the results of the election. He voted for her,
      and prays that she will win. He knows he has been a large part of what
      brought her to this point, but she will move forward without him.

      He's still with her, and she with him, but in small ways now, and he
      finds, at last, that that's enough.

      Forever doesn't mean forever, but he can live with what he's had, and
      what he's lost. He can live knowing that they may have a someday, even
      if it's not today.





      "It was high treason, and it mattered a great deal! This country is an
      idea, and one that's lit the world for two centuries and treason against
      that idea is not just a crime against the living! This ground holds the
      graves of people who died for it, who gave what Lincoln called the last
      full measure of devotion. Of fidelity. You understand the last full
      measure of devotion to...Treason against them is..." Sam Seaborn, The
      West Wing


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