Loose Ends
(The Left Behind Remix)

Author: Bounce

Original Story: Loose End by Lamashtar

Summary: Scott didn't leave any loose ends.

Rating: PG

Fandom: X-Men

He'd left the number he could be reached at and a note, with a message at the end, no matter how unnecessary it was, to take care because his eyes fired force blasts, something that didn't matter now. An anonymous call to the emergency services, telling the police where his body would be, to avoid terrifying the hotel's cleaners. To tie up loose ends.

He'd been lying in the bath, gun cradled in his hands, brains and bones splattered over the side of the tub, the wall above it and somehow, the mirror on the other side of the room. So much red against the white of the bathroom. He hadn't needed to warn anyone of the danger his eyes posed. They'd been destroyed in the blast.

The police milled around and there was a constant babble of noise. The manager of the hotel was throwing up outside and the other guests crowded against the striped tape that cordoned off the area.

He'd left the number he could be reached at. He'd left a letter to her, saying how he loved her, how he loved Nathan and Rachael, how he loved them all so much. He'd tied up all the loose ends except for one.

Jean stood, swaying and shaking, seeing Scott's blood against the tiles. This time, it wasn't the blood and body of someone who was trying to kill her, trying to kill the people she loved. It wasn't the blood of one of the people she'd come to love as family. This time, it was Scott.

And it wasn't the way that she'd thought he'd die. When she'd allowed herself to think of it, she'd always assumed that he'd, that *they'd*, die in combat someday. Not lying in a bath in a motel, a gun in his hand and a note on the table. She'd always feared that he'd die because of her. Because he'd let his love overtake his knowledge of what had to be done to stay alive, to keep everyone alive.

He hadn't. Hadn't died because he had left his feelings for her overtake what he knew needed to be done in combat. Hadn't tried to save someone at the expense of his own life.

A woman in a uniform took Jean's hand and led her outside, sitting her down on a stretcher and wrapping a blanket around her shoulders. He'd forgotten about the psychic link they still shared. She'd known when the police arrived and had arrived frantic and crying moments after the police did. She was his wife, so they'd let her stay. Jean barely noticed as she hadn't noticed how desperate he had been become. Hadn't noticed because she hadn't wanted to notice and she hadn't been able to help him.

Jean stared straight ahead, eyes wide and blank, seeing the blood against the stark white walls and seeing Scott lying in the bath, holding the gun in both hands, still feeling the moment that the space at his end of the link had become cold and empty.

He'd tied up almost all the loose ends first, and that was the worst thing of all.

End

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