by Nadja Lee

Time seems to fly by when you are happy and so it did for Jean and Scott. They had three children after he came back. Scott loved them all, enough that Jean accused him of spoiling them. All three children grew up to have mutant powers, but luckily, only their oldest son, Josh, inherited his father’s eyes as his powers manifested themselves when he hit puberty. Scott had had some great years and he knew it. Now he just wished he could die with the ones he loved. But he couldn’t. Hank’s fear had been proved right over the years as Scott continued to look like a 20-year-old when he was fifty. 80 years after his essence had been placed in his own clone he had been forced to admit he did not age, and even though he could get badly wounded he did not die. He could not die from age or disease either. Together with Hank he had found his body could never die though Hank was sure that his mind could so in a fight he would stay away from telepaths unless under Jean’s protection. For some the prospect of eternal life would sound great, but not for Scott. For him it was another curse to bear. As time had gone by and Jean had become older it had been been painful to not be able to age with her. Over the years he'd had to say goodbye to all his children, an agony he still felt to this day. A father should not outlive his children, yet he had done just that. And there wasn’t a day where he wished he hadn’t.

Scott’s thoughts came to a halt as he found himself outside the X-Mansion. These days the mansion was empty, save when Scott chose to visit there. The house and the garden were well kept, as he paid it to be. He walked over the fresh spring grass and wondered why he kept torturing himself by coming back here. They were all dead and he could not bring them back no matter how much he wanted to. He reached the back of the garden where all his friends and family had been put to rest. He walked over to Jean’s grave and gently caressed the grave marker. He put a small red candle on the headstone and lit the wick.

"Happy anniversary, darling," he whispered. The candle flickered in the wind and he imaged that it was Jean, who had heard him and made it move. Even after all these years he still missed her presence in his mind. He still reached for her in the night. As he stared at the candle, which reminded him of Jean, he remembered that day. The day he had learned to say goodbye….

The fighting for the X-Men had stopped a few years ago with the death of the last of their greatest enemies. Now the X-Mansion was more a home than it had ever been. Of course, by now Scott and Jean’s children had moved away with their own families. The first in the X-Family to die had been Xavier. He had spent his last years with Lilandra so that was where he was buried. It had been hard for them all to see him go. For Scott maybe more than the others. He had been reminded of his loved ones mortality for the first time. It had been hard for him to see his family and friends grow older while he stayed the same, and he knew the opposite was also true.

" Scott?" A weak voice from the bed brought Scott back to the present and he turned from the window to his wife. He smiled fondly at her as he sat beside her. Her hair was white and she looked her years, but to Scott she was as beautiful as ever. For weeks he had felt her weaken through their psychic rapport. He had given her all the strength through their bond that he could, and it was because of her living off of some of his strength that she had lived as long as she had. She was the last of the Inner Circle. Storm, Rogue, Gambit, Hank, Warren and Bobby were all gone.

" I don’t want to die," Jean whispered.

" I know. I don’t want you to either," he said sadly as he tried to lend her more strength through their link, but he knew he could do nothing more. Time had caught up with them.

* I would have liked to have lived with you forever, my husband.*

Even through their link her voice was hoarse.

* And there is nothing I would want more than that, my love.* He sent to her, sending all his love, strength and gentleness towards her.

* I love you so, Scott* Her voice was weak now, he almost could not hear her. Tears ran down his cheeks but he did not notice.

* And I love you. Please stay with me. It is too soon. I am not ready.* He tried desperately to give her all the life-force he had, but it was too late. With a suddenness that surprised him, the link was severed. There was only emptiness where her calming, loving presence had always been.

*"Noooooo,"* he yelled physically and mentally. The scream shook through the mansion, mocking him with its echo. Knowing it would kill him, but not caring now that Jean was gone, his mind melted closer to the darkness that was all that remained now that Jean was no more. Closer to a death that would kill him. Then suddenly a hand closed on his shoulder and shook him out of his mindset. Scott looked up and Logan stood besides him, his eyes filled with sadness.

" She is gone," he said softly, and then his loss hit him full force. He broke down, crying, not caring who was there. Logan, who was not used to that, but, who felt Jean’s death almost as hard as Scott, shared his sorrow with him and out of misery a new bond of friendship was formed.

A noise brought Scott back to the present. He saw Logan coming towards the cemetery. With one last look at his lover’s grave he walked towards Logan.

Jean's grave was as special as she had been. It was a peaceful and stunningly beautiful place under the big tree where the two had often sat. She had a beautiful view, as she could see the sun rise every morning. The red colour of the morning sun reminding Scott of the fire in Jean’s hair.

Jean's gravestone read:

Logan looked not a day older than he had when Scott had first seen him, he too having to bear the burden of an unusual long life. Logan came to a halt next to Ororo’s grave and lay the flowers he had with him there. Ororo’s favourite, Scott noticed. Logan and Ororo had married a few years after Jean and himself. They had been happy, but in the end Logan had been faced with the same dreadful fate as Scott; having to say goodbye to a loved one. Scott remembered that day…..

Logan came down the stairs with Ororo in his arms. She still looked beautiful, her grace never leaving her.

" She wants to go to the garden," Logan said to Scott as he carried her out to the bench. Scott had looked sadly after them, knowing that Ororo had very little time left.

" Are you cold?" Logan asked her after they had sat in silence for a while.

" I can not be cold, my husband," Ororo reminded him gently. " You look so sad, my dear. Don’t be. This is the nature of all things," she said as her arm weakly pointed to the flowers and trees around her.

" I wish…I wish it did not have to be like this. I don’t want you to go," Logan whispered softly, his eyes speaking the volumes his words did not. She smiled sadly.

" I know. I wish we had more time too. But that is not to be." Ororo lifted a weak hand and Logan bent down and kissed her softly.

" I love you," he mumbled, a tear running unnoticed down his cheek. Ororo gently wept it away.

" And I love you," Ororo said and Logan softly kissed her forehead. Then they sat in silence as the sun rose and warmed them.

It was getting late and Logan and Ororo had still not returned. Scott got worried and went out to find them. They still sat on the bench; Ororo gathered safely in Logan´s arms.

" Logan?" Scott asked softly.

" She wants to see the flowers. She loves the flowers, you see," he said lowly as he stroked Ororo’s long white hair. Ororo lay unnaturally still, her white eyes never blinking. Scott gently felt for a pulse and found none.

" Nooo," he whispered sadly.

" She is ok, you’ll see. She is just taking a nap," Logan said stubbornly but tears were coming to his eyes. Scott’s vision blurred from his own tears, which he wiped away with irritation; he needed to be strong for Logan.

" She is gone, my friend," he said softly, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder not knowing that Logan would repay that same favour a few years later.

Scott came back to reality as Logan put his hand on his shoulder.

" It is good to see you," he said, his voice hoarse from emotions as he too had remembered his lover’s last day.

" You too, my friend. You too," Scott said softly, wiping at a runaway tear. Scott looked one last time at Ororo’s grave.

Ororo's grave was as graceful and stunning as she had been. It was a beautiful place. Always surrounded by flowers, birds and sunshine.

Her gravestone read:

Together the two friends went to Rogue’s grave. And they remembered the woman with the greatest curse of all the X-Men; not being able to touch anyone. Not even her husband….

" Where is that beautiful wife of mine?" Gambit asked playfully as he came to the kitchen. Logan and Scott smiled at him. Gambit and Rogue had been the last couple to marry, Rogue had wanted to wait in hopes of being able be to get control of her powers so they could touch. She never did.

" She is outside on the porch," Scott answered. Gambit went outside and sat with difficulty on the bench next to Rogue. She looked up at him and smiled.

"(extra space) You know, I never did understand why you stayed," she said softly. " I could not give you children, we can not even touch." Tears were in her eyes. She had so wanted to be able to touch him. Gambit gently wiped her tears away.

" Because I love you more than life itself, of course, cherè," he whispered and kissed her softly on her gloved hand.

" And I love you, Remy. So very, very much."

She stroked him over his cheek with her gloved fingers. Gambit caught her hand and held it in his. Together they watched the sun rise. It was a beautiful morning.

" It is almost as beautiful as you, mon petite," Remy whispered softly. Rogue smiled.

" Why, thank you, husband of mine. I …," she stopped as she turned to look at him. His eyes were closed but he had a smile on his lips. His hand still held on to hers.

"Remy?" She asked softly, afraid for the answer. With shaking fingers and tears in her eyes she felt for a pulse and found none.

" Oh, nooo," she whispered and drew him close to her. " We were supposed to live together or die together, remember?" She whispered softly. Without thinking she gave in to her years old desire and kissed him softly on the lips. First nothing happened, but then she felt herself weaken. She pulled away. She knew that if she touched living beings she took life from them, but if she touched dead people in time would the reverse be true? Would she absorb Remy’s coldness, his very death? She stroked his hair one last time.

" Ah love you, Remy. Till death do us part," she whispered. Then she leaned over and kissed him deeply on the lips.

" Rogue??? Nooo." The voice was far away and Rogue hardly heard it before she felt herself walking in a lighted staircase. A figure waited for her at the top. A familiar figure. Ignoring the voice who wanted her to turn back, she ran the last steps, giving away her last life-force as she meet the figure in a passionate kiss of a love that defied all laws. A love meant to last forever. A love doomed from the start, yet had existed.

Scott reached Rogue and pulled her away from Gambit.

" Rogue?" He asked softly but got no reply. Her eyes were closed but on her lips a small smile lit up her face. Over the trees the sun rose. It was a beautiful morning.

Scott came back to reality as Logan turned to go. He looked one last time at the gravestone for the two lovers who had never felt each other's touch in this life. He and Logan had buried Rogue and Gambit together, wanting them to be close in death when they had been unable to in life. Scott hoped that wherever his two friends were now, they had finally found peace in each other's embrace.

Gambit and Rogue's grave rested safely under the big weeping willow. A stature of a crying angel watched over the grave made for them, crying her crystal-like tears for lovers long gone. For none had dared separate the two from each together. Together they had lived and together they had died. As the rose and the lily were inseparable in the summer time, they were inseparable in death as in life.

Their gravestone read:

As the two old friends walked out of the mansion a wind whirled around them. It was warm and rested like a comforting blanket around Logan’s shoulders. For a flicker of a moment, Scott felt a warmth in his mind, a blanket of comfort only one woman had ever been able to give him. And for just a moment in time, two men could smile again.

The End