Loading ...
Sorry, an error occurred while loading the content.

FIC: Ultraviolet (Spectrum 1) (PG; Logan/Jean; Angst)

Expand Messages
  • Autumn Queen
    Date Finished: 28 September 2000 Title: Ultraviolet (Spectrum 1) Author: Eiluned (eiluned@darkpine.net) Archive: My site only for now. Completed series will
    Message 1 of 1 , Sep 28, 2000
      Date Finished: 28 September 2000
      Title: Ultraviolet (Spectrum 1)
      Author: Eiluned (eiluned@...)
      Archive: My site only for now. Completed series will be sent to all
      archives. No other archiving or linking without permission, please.
      Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to Marvel. I just do
      twisted things with them.
      Rating: PG
      Categories: Angst, Drama, Romance
      Pairing: Logan/Jean
      Series: Logan loses his sanity and Jean has to guide him back.
      Episode: A flood of memories.
      Series warnings: Dark weirdness. WolvieTorture.
      Series notes: This story is set in the same universe as my unfinished
      Divine Comedy series. You don't have to have read that to understand
      this, though. Just know that Scott is dead, everyone has just
      recently come to terms with it and Logan and Jean are in a rather
      tenuous relationship. This is the first of nine parts in the Spectrum
      Author's notes: This just sort of slapped me out of the blue at work
      today. One minute I'm selling kilts, the next I'm scribbling away. I
      just love how the Muses work. ;P Now, this isn't really a song fic.
      The lyrics really spoke to me and they actually gave me the idea for
      the story. However, the plot isn't based on the song and no
      characters will sing it. ::grin::
      Big thanks to my beta Darry, tamer of wild commas and savage sentence

      / / is memories (italics)
      ' ' is thoughts
      * * is telepathy (ah, the joys of ASCII)


      "I remember when we could sleep on stones
      Now we lie together
      In whispers and moans
      When I was all messed up
      And I heard opera in my head
      Your love was a light bulb
      Hanging over my bead." U2, 'Ultraviolet' (from 'Achtung Baby')



      /I'm sitting in a chair./


      /red lights, blue lights, yellow lights/




      Jean grabbed her temples and tipped forward, pressing her face into
      the mattress.

      Everyone else in the room stared at each other for a second in
      silence. Logan shot across the bed about the time that Storm jumped
      out of her chair. "Jean! Jean, what's the matter?" she asked, gently
      touching Jean's shoulder.

      Logan turned to Rogue, barely concealing his panic. "Go get the
      professor," he ordered, and Rogue practically leapt off of the bed.

      "Jean? Jean, can you hear me?" Ororo shook Jean carefully, "Jean,
      answer me!"






      /A hospital chair; I'm sitting in a hospital chair. Blue light.../


      /Oh, my god, it's Logan... he's so still, just staring straight up.../



      Logan's voice suddenly pierced through the fog and Jean sat straight
      up, eyes wild. She lashed out, but Logan caught her fists and pulled
      her close to him, whispering quietly to her. She gradually calmed
      down and broke into quiet sobs, her face buried in his shirt. Ororo
      gently smoothed Jean's hair back from her face. "Are you all right?"
      she asked quietly.

      Jean sat up and wiped her face. "I don't know..."

      "I got the professor..." Rogue said hesitantly from the door.

      The rush of relief when Professor Xavier rolled into the room was
      almost tangible. He stopped in front of Jean and took her hands.
      "Jean, what happened?" he asked softly, his eyes going cloudy as they
      always did when he probed into someone's mind.

      /fear... terror... pain, so much pain.../

      Charles jerked back suddenly, his eyes wide. He looked from Jean to
      Logan and back again. After a long moment of silence, Logan was a
      ball of impatience. "Well?" he barked, "What the hell was that?"

      Professor Xavier gave him an infinitely patient look.. "I think that
      Jean picked up on some of your memories, Logan" he explained. "We
      know that you two have a psychic connection and it's surprisingly
      strong. I didn't think Jean's abilities had developed enough to
      detect memories that are so deeply repressed. I can barely sense
      those memories myself."

      "What does that mean?" Jean asked, rubbing her temples.

      Charles sighed, rubbing his own forehead. "I'm not sure, Jean."

      She nodded slowly and wiped her face again. Charles smiled at her.
      "You look like you need some rest. Why don't I make you some tea?"

      "That sounds good," she replied quietly. She still hadn't completely
      regained her clam. Fear still hummed through her like a live wire,
      leaving a metallic tang in her mouth.

      She stood slowly, and when Logan reached out to her, she just shook
      her head. "I'm fine. I'll be fine. Just give me a little while,"
      she said, and he nodded, clearly not happy.


      Jean put her elbows on the counter and rested her head in her hands,
      watching the professor go about making tea. She hadn't felt this much
      undirected anxiety since before she had come to the school. Her heart
      was still pounding and her skin prickled with dread. The teakettle's
      whistle nearly sent her off of her stool.

      Charles just smiled at her in his calm way and poured the boiling
      water into a mug. "That's not chamomile, is it?" she asked.

      He shook his head and brought the mug to her. "Of course not. I know
      you hate chamomile. That's one of the perks of being psychic. It's

      She grinned at him. "You sound silly saying that."

      He feigned ignorance. "Saying what?"

      "Sleepytime," she finished the old joke and they both laughed softly.

      "When did that joke start?" Charles asked, folding his hands in his

      "Right after you found me. I couldn't sleep because I kept hearing
      everyone else's thoughts. You made me tea and taught me how to shield
      my mind," she said, smiling to herself.

      The smile slowly disappeared and she idly swirled the teabag around in
      the mug, staring into the darkening water. She could feel the
      professor staring at her, but she wanted to avoid talking for a while.
      She needed some more time to work her emotions out, to examine each of
      them and discover its root.

      "What did you see, Jean?" Charles finally asked when she tossed the
      teabag in the garbage.

      She squeezed an inordinately large amount of honey into her tea and
      stirred it in. "I don't know if I can describe it. Um..." she
      paused, flustered by the memories. "I was... sitting in a chair. It
      was one of those chairs you see in hospital rooms, like the ones we
      have in the sick bay. And the lights... they kept changing colors,
      red to blue to yellow. And then there was just pain. Horrible,
      horrible pain. I felt like I couldn't stand it anymore. I just
      wanted to die to make the pain stop. And then I could feel someone
      drawing on my skin, but I couldn't see anything. Everything flashed
      and then water was closing over me and I thought I would drown and I
      was so afraid, Professor." she started to cry again. "And then I was
      back in the hospital chair and the light was blue and I could see
      Logan lying there, staring at the ceiling. He was so still, as if he
      were dead."

      She wiped the tears away again and blew over the surface of her tea,
      taking a sip. "I've never felt anything like that before," she
      whispered. "I've never been so afraid. And that's what Logan

      Charles touched her arm, giving her comfort. "I think you should get
      some sleep. I'll speak with Logan. Perhaps he has had some new
      memories surface..."

      Rogue's piercing scream interrupted him mid-sentence. They looked at
      each other for a second. "Something's wrong with Logan," she said and
      ran out of the kitchen, her full mug shattering on the tile.

      End of Ultraviolet

      Next: Violet

      Feedback is worshipped. It makes my Muses happy and they inspire more
      fic. eiluned@...
    Your message has been successfully submitted and would be delivered to recipients shortly.