You Can’t Hurt Me
Anymore
By Nadja Lee 10/26/02
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 after the X-men movie.
Universe: Movie. ONLY movie! AU
Romance: Scott/Ororo, Scott/Jean implied.
Summary: Scott finds Ororo after she has made a fatal decision and he’s left to
wonder why.
Archiving: Want, ASK, take, have.
Feedback: Yes, please. My e-mail address is nadjalee@usa.net
Rating: R
Sequel/series: None
Warnings: mature
themes; depression, suicide.
Author’s notes: Might
be a bit dark…okay, I *know* it’s dark as I was depressed when I wrote this…..
Thanks as always to
Estelle for beta.
* * *
”Ororo?”
No answer. Strange, she was always on time. This was the first time that
Scott could remember that she had been late for anything; especially a training
session. It was Saturday and he hadn’t seen her all day. He understood she
would want some privacy but it was now almost one in the night…..Jean had
reassured him that she was in her room and was sure she just wanted some space
but Scott had still been uneasy about it and had wanted to check in on her on
his way to bed. Only she wasn’t answering. Concerned Scott placed a hand on the
door handle to her room and tried to open it; locked. He frowned in concern. He
knocked again.
“Ororo? Are you alright?”
Still no answer. This wasn’t like her. She was always on time, she was
always there…..this wasn’t like her at all.
“Okay; I’m coming in,” Scott said out loud, just in case she wanted
privacy and for some reason he couldn’t figure out had chosen not to answer
him. He again turned the door handle and again the door didn’t open. Suddenly
he recalled Sabretooth’s fascination with Ororo and Scott’s uneasiness grew. He
let go of the door handle, took a step back and kicked the door in. It swung
open and Scott walked into the room, one hand to his glasses, ready for an
attack.
He had only been in Ororo’s room a few times yet the grace and beauty of
it with an African air to it had always fascinated him. Today however what
concerned him was the open doors to her balcony, the dark room with no lights
burning and the broken mirror laying on the floor, pieces of it shattered all
over the floor like deadly snow.
“Ororo?” he called softly, trying to conceal his concern. He saw the
door to her bathroom was open and he carefully walked towards it, something in
him warning him that there was something inside he didn’t want to find…didn’t
want to know. As he was closer to the door he saw a set of small dedicate brown
feet laying on the floor; Ororo!
*Jean! Something is wrong with Ororo. Come quickly! * Scott called
telepathically. He didn’t wait for her reply but closed their bond as soon as
he was sure she had gotten his message. He needed his entire concentration for
what was to come.
His heart in his throat he walked closer and entered the room. The small
light above the sink was lit but that was all…..it was enough. He saw her lying
on the floor, her long white hair like a halo around her head as she lay still
on the floor. Her eyes were closed but an almost peaceful expression was on her
face.
“Ororo!” Scott yelled panicked and quickly knelt beside her and began
searching her for injuries. There was blood as red as wine around her, coming
from her right wrist. The cut was alarmingly straight…it didn’t look like a
wound received in battle. He quickly tore a piece of his shirt and band it as
tight as he could around the wound, hoping it’ll stop some of the bleeding
until he could get help. He searched for more wounds and lying in her thin long
white nightdress with bare arms it wasn’t too hard to do. Her dress had curled
up to show her thighs he gashed in surprise. There were wounds on her thighs
and the inside of her upper arms…old scars…. carefully cut…almost craved. He
looked around and found a bloodied piece of glass beside where Ororo’s right
hand had laid.
“Oh, God…Ororo,” he whispered horrified, tears coming to his eyes as he
gathered her close and held her in his arms. He tried to control his sorrow and
fought the tears as he held her a little away from him and began shaking her to
try and wake her up.
“Ororo! Ororo, wake up…please, wake up,” he shook her again, her head
rolling back and forth. “Wake up!”
Her eyelids moved and she blinked. Her peaceful expression disappeared
and pain took its place.
“Scott?” she asked weakly, her voice hoarse, pained and low.
“Yes. Yes, it’s me,” his voice sounded strange even to him. He had
trouble speaking for the lump in his throat.
“I hoped…I…would see you…. one last time,” she got out, forcing a weak
smile. Scott was going out of his mind from worry; where were the others? What
should he do? What could he do? Not sure what to do he simply held her close
and put some loose hair away from her face. He tried to smile for her but it
turned into a grimace. His mind was in turmoil; he didn’t know what to do or
think. Everything was turning in his head; nothing made sense anymore.
“Don’t talk like that. You’ll be fine,” Scott assured, praying
fanatically that he was right.
“You…were always a poor liar,” she got out, grimacing in pain. He tried
to smile but the smile froze on his lips. Suddenly everything came crashing
down on him and he tried all he could to hold it all inside.
“Why? Why?” he whispered softly, his voice agonized, his mind tormented
and his cheeks wet from tears. She had no strength to lift her hand but she
made a motion as if she wanted to wipe his tears away.
“No words can describe the pain I’ve felt within,” her voice was fading
now, growing weaker.
He did not understand; she had always seemed so controlled. What had
gone wrong? Why hadn’t he noticed she was unhappy? Why? She had always been
there, ever silent, ever present. Never drawing attention to herself, never
doing anything that made others notice her………God! He had failed her….he hadn’t
looked beneath the surface; he hadn’t been thinking. He hadn’t…he should
have…he should have…
“If only…” he whispered softly, taking her left hand to his cheek before
he softly kissed it.
“Don’t…don’t say ‘I love you’,” she asked weakly, fighting to get the
words out as tears ran from her eyes. “Don’t. Not now.”
There was such agony in her voice…such longing. A sudden realization hit
him.
“You love me?!” he got out, surprise, shock, happiness, sorrow and a mix
of other feelings running through him.
A ghost of a smile played over her lips.
“I always did…you just never seemed to notice me,” she said softly.
“Oh, God,” he mumbled. How could he have been so blind? All her
kindness, all the times she had been there for him…and where had he been? Where
had he gone after she had helped him? To Jean…always Jean. Why hadn’t he
thought of this? Why?
“Don’t cry for me… You’ll hardly know I’m gone….you hardly knew I was
here to begin with,” her voice was sad and pained with a hint of sarcasm and
loss….strong loss and despair. He didn’t know what to say because…she was
right. He had taken her for granted. He had assumed she was always strong, that
she was always there and that she could handle anything…..he had assumed she
would always be there to help…but never had she needed help herself.
“I’m so sorry,” he got out, tears blurring his vision, his cheeks were
hot and red. He pulled her closer and stroked her hair.
“Don’t be….You can’t hurt me anymore….no one can,” she whispered weakly,
her eyes beginning to fall shut. Panic rose in him.
“Don’t leave me!”
She smiled weakly to him as her eyes closed completely.
“I’m finally free,” she
whispered as her last breath was torn from her lips.
“NOOO!” Scott yelled in agony and held her closer to him, burying his
head by her neck. Oh, God…why? Why?
Suddenly there was a lot of people in the room but his mind was frozen
in time, his eyes stiffened and the only sound he heard was her words….
“You can’t hurt me anymore.”
What had he done? What had he done? Why hadn’t he seen the signs? Why?
Why hadn’t he understood the Hell her mind had been in? Why had he somehow
assumed she was strong enough? Why had he thought that only the body could be
in Hell and that keeping her safe from villains would be enough; would keep her
well?
He should have known…he should have done something…..he looked down at
his hands and saw that they were covered in blood as was his shirt…..her blood.
In that moment he understood what she had meant by the pain within
because his mind was in agony as it felt like it was being torn apart; a
confusing mass without beginning or end. Suddenly the world seemed so dark,
suddenly everything seemed impossible….he felt so tired and drained….
“You can’t hurt me anymore.”
Her words kept ringing in his ears, he kept seeing her bloodied body
laying on the floor…kept seeing the pure agony written on her face…..what she
must have gone through….such pain….a pain she had carried inside herself…..a
pain he hadn’t seen…..a pain he hadn’t understood.
He walked out of Ororo’s room as in trance, his mind somewhere else….his
mind in torment yet no one could see it….no one would know.
He began to see that the greatest pain could be the pain inside himself.
You can’t hurt me anymore…..
She might have found freedom at last….but she had left him in Hell….a
Hell he might first find escape from…in death as she had.
The End