Fic: "That´s Not Me" R (1/ 1) [Scott, (Logan)]
- Hi all,
Okay, I tried to make this story look more readable since my mail loves to ruin my stories. Hope it worked.
You can also read this story on my webpage here:
This story is based on the movie.
Warnings: Mention of drugs, violence etc
Note: As noted below this story futures a light Scott/Logan pairing ( in other words; slash). Dont read any further if thats not your thing.
[ for comic fans: I know Corsair isnt like this. Bear with me, please. This isnt comic!]
Thanks to Mo for everything.
Feedback is welcome and loved at
Thats Not Me By Nadja Lee 4/8-01
English is not my native language. Please forgive me my mistakes.
Disclaimer: X-men and all the characters here belong to Marvel , 20 Century Fox and I intend no infringement, this is a piece of amateur fan fiction, and I make no money of it.
Only the original idea contained within this work is the property of the author. Please do not copy this story to any website or archive without permission of the author.
Timeline: Set in the movie universe. By the end of the movie.
Universe: Set in movie universe.
Romance: Scott/Logan implied
Summary: Scott thinks about his life and his attraction to Logan
Archiving: Want, ASK, take, have.
Feedback: Yes, please. My e-mail address is neh@....
Thanks to Mo for the Beta. Youre the best!
Sequel/series: Probably not.
*mmmm * is telepathically thoughts spoken in the mind. mmmmm is spoken out loud.
There he goes, right past where I sit and out the door.
The angry thought;
He didnt even say goodbye,
enters my mind before I can stop it.
I shake my head. Why would he say farewell to me?
I watch as Rogue stops him and they talk.
My eyes are fixed on him though I try to turn away;
admire his long legs, a wonderful ass, great chest...Stop!
What the fuck am I doing? My face blushes almost as red as my shades.
Have I lost my mind? I cant sit here and...want a man like that!
I just cant.
Thats not me!
My eyes find Jeans but she looks at the TV.
She is my girlfriend, I...I try to love her. I want to
love her. I...do not love her. Why? I dont know. Well, maybe I do. Im
rarely this honest with myself, it only brings me a lot of grief and
questions I cant and wont go find the answers to. I dont look back for
there is nothing to look back at. I dont want to remember, I push it
away, I try to forget. But I cant. I cant forget.
I remember a morning when I was 10. Mom was making
breakfast and Dad was half reading his paper. Then suddenly he said;
They want me to fly with Richardson. Can you
believe that?! How in the world they ever let him join the Air Force is
His tone was angry.
Mom looked over at me as if it is something I
Chris, I dont think... she began in her soft voice
but he interrupted her.
How can they even let him fly? I mean, what should I
call him? Him....her? It? I tell you, it is not natural for two
men to be together. Hell, they arent even men, he was warming up to a
full blown speech on what was to be only one of many on the subject.
It is against the will of God, Mom agreed, crossing
herself as if from a great evil. Theyll go straight
to Hell, they will!
Having them in the Military is more of a disgrace
than letting women in, Dad said when his eyes suddenly caught the clock
and he had to run off.
I didnt have a bad childhood, not at all. Dad could
be well, he was often away and when he was home he was determined
to make a man out of me. I remember lying in my bed at night after I
had been sent to my room after punishment for something or another. Mom
would sneak up with food to me if I had been sent away before dinner.
She´d then proceed to tell me about how important it was that I did as Dad said, that
God wanted all children to be obedient. Mom was very into religion,
going to church with me for all the years I lived at home. I worked hard in school, I so
wanted to make father proud. Though no matter how hard I worked he never
seemed quite satisfied.
It was in High School it started. I began to take more
notice of the boys in my class than the girls. I began to have
dreams and fantasies I even now dont dare to say out loud. I began to feel
isolated and alone, wrong and...guilty. I was sure God would punish me for
my thoughts. I
tried to forget what I thought, what I dreamt. I
joined the Football team, became Captain, I dated girls, I put a lot of
energy into my school work. I did all the normal things yet no matter what
I did, at night my thoughts always returned to the same thing, to the
same place and I wanted to scream to make those thoughts go away.
Not long after I began to have great headaches and I was relieved
to have something to concentrate on other than thoughts which I was sure
would earn me a place in Hell as my mother had said. Then it happened; my prom
dance turned into a nightmare even worse than the girl I had dragged with
My headache went from a great pain to pure agony and I ran to the
bathroom. I fell to the floor from the pain and when I opened my eyes
again red energy escaped them. It took a few seconds for me to close my
eyes again; it was as if everything was happening in a haze. Suddenly
there were cops and ambulances all over the school. 5 people, cops, found
me on the floor of the bathroom, my eyes tightly closed, tears forcing
their way out though the closed lids. They began to hit and kick me,
I tried to roll away from them. They yelled insults at me I didnt
understand, all happening in a haze of confusion and pain.
What exactly happened that fateful night is still unclear to me. The next I knew I woke
up on a small bed. My body hurt all over and I felt a wetness, probably
blood, on my lip as I ran my hand over it. Before I had time to think I
instinctually tried to open my eyes but couldnt. Some kind of tape
was put on them and as I felt my way I felt a metal ring over my eyes all
the way around my head.
Fear ran through me and I curled up in the corner of
the bed, hugging my legs under me. I tried to listen for sounds I knew, Mom or
Dads voice but only strange sounds of doors and locks
met me. I felt my way around the bed and felt metal bars next to it; I
had to be in a prison cell.
I tried to contain my tears, my fathers boys dont cry
running through my head but I couldnt. Tears forced
their way through the metal band and down my cheeks. Maybe this is my
punishment, I thought.
For my dreams, my thoughts...
It felt like I have been sitting there, feeling all
alone and very miserable in the cell for days when finally I heard my
parents´ voices. What happened next Ill never forget no matter how hard I
Mom? I ask softly, quickly wiping away my tears so
Dad shall not see them.
Is this your son? a strangers voice asks.
He destroyed the School? Dads voice, cold and hard.
My darling boy, Moms soft, whispered voice.
Im so sorry, I try to contain my tears but theyre
clear in my voice anyway.
He destroyed the school, 34 were wounded and 4
killed, the strangers voice again, probably a cop.
Killed? I ask shocked. Had I killed someone? Good
God...what had I done? What kind of monster was I?
So, is he your son? the stranger again but I barely
notice. Suddenly I feel a hand touch me and I flick away.
It is I, Mom whispers, soft and sad. I take her
hand and hold it, sitting myself as close to the bars as I can. She hugs
me through the bars.
Oh, my dear son. May God have mercy on your soul,
she must be crying, I can hear it in her voice.
No. He isnt my son. Not anymore, Dads cold voice
say and I feel like I have died. What is he saying? What is he
Chris, Moms voice, pleading.
Come on, Ann, Dad again. Suddenly Moms warm arms
are pulled back and never have I felt so cold and alone.
Mom! Mom, come back, I yell, tears running down my
I love you, son. Be strong. And may God be with you.
Always, Moms last words as she disappears. The words;
May God be with you because I cant hangs unspoken in the air between us.
MOM! I scream. I hear a door close and only silence
Mom, I whisper and cry. Never have I cried
I must have fallen asleep for next I wake I hear new voices.
Is this him? someone asks.
Yes. Another voice. The sound of a key being turned
in the lock. I pull back into the corner.
Who are you? What do you want? I ask, trying to
make my voice sound tough but it sounds like Im about to break down which
I also am. Someone takes my arms and forces me off the bed and
onto the floor.
No. Let me go, I try to kick out after them but as
I cant see them I dont have much success. My hands are forced behind
my back and cuffed together. Only now do I realise that
the people around me must be cops which would make me...a criminal?!
Im led to a car and put into the back. They left me! Mom and Dad abandoned me.
It is all I can think off. Sure, I had heard Mom and Dad talk about
mutants. Mutants were the others, something which might happen to the
neighbor´s children but never yours. Mutants; freak of nature, the Devils
children. All Dad and Moms words come rushing back as I finally know; I
am a mutant; a freak. My punishment I think. For my impure thoughts
on the inside; I am now as impure on the outside.
In my misery I dont feel the energy from
my eyes which I instinctively try to open all the time having finally
become so great that it overcomes the tape and the metal. The red energy
leaves my eyes and cuts the car right in two. The car
stops at once and I quickly close my eyes. Oh, no. I did it again. Im
cursed. For what feels like forever I just sit still hoping itll all
go away until I force myself to move. As I move the rest of the metal
band falls off my head.
Are...are you alright? I ask. When my eyes were open I had seen 2 men:
one chauffeur and one passenger. No answer. Keeping my
eyes tightly closed I finally find my way out of the car. I feel my
way to the front seat.
Are you alright? I ask again as I try to feel on the man.
My hands finds his face and I quickly withdraw
my hand but when he says nothing I feel his face again.
His cheek, his nose, his cheek...God! Wetness on my fingers...Shaking I pull back.
Half a face. He has only half a face. My beam must have been so wide that it cut even
the two men in half; half a face. God. I turn around and promptly
throws up what little I have left in my stomach. After what feels like a
long time I get myself pulled so much together that I wonder what to
do. Run, just run. On shaky legs I begin to leave the car behind. I walk
slowly and go to the side of the road so I can feel the grass that
grows next to the road so I know Im not walking in the middle of the road. I
dont know which way Im walking, I just walk. My thoughts are confused
and conflicted. I cry with no thoughts in my head. Every time I think
about what happened I want to scream, to hit something, to
cry...it all gets so confusing so I clear my head of all thoughts,
forbidding them to enter.
I walk what feels like forever; traffic gets heavier and I
must be nearing a town. I have no idea if its night or day but finally
I must be in town. I smell food and I realise that I havent eaten since
the prom...last night. Two days ago I was Football captain, getting
high scores in tests, going towards University and now...Now,
Im homeless, alone, abandoned...lost. I remember I had some cash in
my pocket in these pants and I search for it but do not find
it. The cops must have taken it.
My ribs really begin to hurt after the long walk due
to the cops´ mistreatment and I need to sit down. I must look very
funny as I sit next to a wall in my tuxedo borrowed for the prom. I
sit and try to catch my breath as I hear the sound of coins falling. I
eagerly search the ground in front of me and find some 6 coins. I try to
figure out how much it is by their size but it is hard. Maybe a dollar, max.
Someone must have thought I was begging. The thought leaves me
cold. I need to eat, I want somewhere to sleep...I have to beg for food.
I cant seek help; I must be wanted for what happened at the prom....just
the thought of the prom and I feel like crying. I cant cope with
that now so again I force myself not to think about my past. Instead I
stretch out my hands.
Please? Money for a blind boy? I force out, need
After a while I realise that it isnt so hard to
beg when you cant look people in the eyes. I must have been sitting
there for quite a while until someone blocks the light I feel on my face
from a streetlamp.
What are you doing here, punk? someone asks and I
quickly hide my money in my pocket and turn my head in the direction
of the sound, my heart beating wildly in my chest.
I...I, I dont know what to do or say. Suddenly I
realise just how helpless I am.
Leave him alone. Cant you see hes blind? A strong
voice breaks through and I feel relieved.
That was how I came to live with the Warriors, a band
of 10 ,including me: young boys and girls living on the streets.
The others looked after me; they helped me to and from the place where I
begged and helped me buy food for my money, they made sure I wasnt
conned and for 3 years they were all I had.
I tried my luck at stealing but it didnt go very
well and Mario Lopez, our leader, had to get me out of
a tight spot. Some of the others did drugs, but we had to get money for
our own stuff and I never had a lot of money so I never could afford
more than a little pot now and then. I did try sniffing glue a couple of
times; it was cheaper and it killed the ever-present hunger.
Some of the others told me
that they made big money just by giving a blowjob or
having sex with someone. I resented it for a long time; it went
against everything I thought about myself and had been raised to think was
right. But in the end I gave it a try.
Michael, a boy in our group who did it often, set me
up with some guy. It should be quick and easy; just a
blowjob; how hard could it be? Real hard because I couldnt get myself
to do it. Earned myself one of the worst beatings in my life which gave
me no sympathy from the gang. Not even from Marie who nursed me
back to health for the some 3 weeks it took for me to be able to take care of
myself again for just the most basic things. The others
called me a fool for saying no to the job but I felt proud; a beating was...well, manly.
It wasnt as humiliating as selling sex.
I remember talking with Marie about it and
she got mad at me; asking if I thought it wasnt just as
humiliating for her to sell herself as it was for a man? I said it
wasnt the same and she almost took my head off with her knife. Now I know
she was right, then I didnt dare analyze myself or my actions. Mostly I still
dont but now...I know I was afraid that somehow, somewhere
deep in my mind Ill like being with a man and I felt disgusted and
I went back to begging and one day a man passed me I
was sure was my father; I recognised his voice. It wasnt unlikely as
I knew I was just in the next town. I reached out for
him and called to him but he walked on, not even a coin did he leave behind. I
remember his words as if it was yesterday it happened;
Dad? Dad, is it you? Its me Scott, I said and reached out my hands in his direction.
Do you know him? a strangers voice asked.
No. I have no children. My son is dead, my fathers voice, cold and
hard but maybe with a hint of sadness as he walked
away. I was so sad when Brian helped me back that I drank all my money I had
saved away up in one night; cursing Dad, cursing the world to Hell and
crying. But life went on and I was back to begging.
That was how I met Charles. He
offered me food and I went with him though I knew the
dangers but I was too hungry to care. I went with Charles to his home, got
fed, washed and cleaned up. He offered to let me stay; I quickly agreed as I
had nowhere else to go. He gave me my red shades and for the first time
in over 3 years I could see again even if just shades of red.
The first thing I did was to drive out to see my old gang again and invite them
back with me. I
got them all to come with me to Xaviers. Now, 8 years
after I went to live with Xavier only three of my old gang members
are still alive. As Jean says when I have a difficult student;
You can force a horse to water but can´t make him drink.
Two accidentally took an overdose, three killed
themselves and one disappeared, and though I searched for her I never
found her again. The life we lived on the streets had marked us all and them
more than me for I lived there for some 3 years; some of the other
Warriors had lived on the streets almost all their lives.
I tried to fit into Xaviers fine school. I finished
my High School, I took classes at college and tried
to get used to not feeling my way around
now that I wasnt blind anymore and not hiding food
from the table as I did for a long time after I went to Xaviers in fear
there wouldnt be any food the next day.
I became a teacher at the school and began to
date Jean, more out of gratitude as she had been the one to help cure my
addiction to drugs, mostly glue, that I hadnt known I had,
my anorexia, my anxiety attacks and held me when I
awoke screaming in the night. I never told her about my past because I never thought
about it but she always seemed to understand.
I couldnt promise her nearness, not even love; I had been through too much to be able to love
or open up again and still she understood. She said she did not need
all that anyway; just security and someone wholl always be there. That I
could give her. Till this day I still do not know herdemons nor she mine and frankly I
prefer it like that.
Then Logan showed up and destroyed everything. He made
me remember, he made me feel again; he made me dream and think again.
Logically I know there is nothing wrong with being gay; I know this. It
isnt something you can control...but I cant be gay! I keep
hearing my mothers voice in my head that people like that are
the Devils children and my Dad that it is unnatural and wrong; not even people
but...its. Everything is suddenly so confusing and I feel like screaming in
a desperate attempt to drown those damn voices in
my head. I dont want to think or feel. That is why I have Cyclops; he does none of
those things and even better; he has NO past.
I watch as Logan gives Rogue his dog tags and walk out
the door. I wonder what hell think when he sees that I left the
keys in my motorcycle and when he reads my letter for him. It is a short
letter, it simply says;
I hear my motorcycle speed away and smile before I can
help it. Maybe it means something that he took the motorcycle. The
thought of pleasure is quickly crushed by the voices in my head;
This is WRONG!
You are wrong.
I put my hands over my ears and want to scream to stop the voices; to
You alright? Jean asks, light concern in her voice.
Yes, I say and run to the safety of the
kitchen. I look out on the road leaving the Mansion.
He is gone. Logan is gone. It is for the better. He doesnt even like me. I cant feel like
this. It is better he is gone. Itll make everything much easier. I cant
lust after another man, I cant want to touch him, feel him like I do. It
is just wrong.
It is NOT me.
It is not.
An image of Logan fills my mind and a warmth spreads through my entire body.
*Stop it!* I sternly tell myself.
That is NOT me.
It cant be me. Im not like that.
Im NOT gay.
Thats not me.
Scott ( thoughts): "Ronald Reagan once said that a great leader is simply an average man who surrounds himself with the best. That´s why I NEVER vote republican!" - from "Cyclops mini 1"