𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐬 - 𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬

𝟐𝟔. 𝑪𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒆

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Back at the mansion, the atmosphere was heavy with grief and silence. The group entered through the front doors, their faces worn with sorrow. As they walked inside, Scott came rushing down the stairs, his heart pounding with anticipation. But the moment he saw Rory, everything inside him came to a halt.

She stood there, her eyes red and filled with tears that streamed down her face. Without a word, he crossed the distance between them, pulling her into his arms. Rory collapsed into his embrace, her sobs muffled against his chest, her tears soaking into his shirt. She tried to speak, to tell him the devastating news, but the words wouldn't come.

Scott felt a lump form in his throat as he held her tighter, the realization sinking in as her body shook with grief. His own tears began to form, the loss of the professor weighing heavily on him. He buried his face in Rory's hair, struggling to maintain his composure but failing as the grief overcame him.

Logan, who had been standing nearby, approached them. He placed a hand on Scott's shoulder, his voice filled with a rare softness. "Charles trusted you, Scott," he said, his voice steady despite the emotion behind it. "He believed in you... to lead us, to take care of all the mutants. Welcome back, Cyclops."

Scott swallowed hard, the weight of Logan's words hitting him just as hard as the loss. He nodded, unable to speak, and hugged Rory even tighter.

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Scott cradled Rory in his arms, feeling her tremble as she wept. He gently rubbed her back, whispering soft words of comfort, trying to soothe her, though he was struggling with his own grief.

"Hey, it's okay," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "You're strong, Rory. I know you did everything you could."

She pulled back slightly, her tear-filled eyes meeting his. "I tried, Scott. I really tried, but I... I wasn't strong enough. I couldn't save him."

Scott cupped her face in his hands, wiping away her tears with his thumbs. "You did your best. No one could ask for more. Your powers... they're incredible, Rory. You're incredible. Don't ever doubt that."

Rory nodded, sniffling as she clung to him. "I just wish... I wish it had been enough."

Scott pulled her back into his embrace, holding her as if he could shield her from all the pain they were feeling. After a few moments, Rory pulled away and wiped her eyes, taking a deep breath to steady herself.

"Wait here," she whispered, her voice still shaky. She turned and quickly made her way up the stairs to her room. Scott watched her go, concern etched on his face, but he stayed put, giving her the space she needed.

A few minutes later, Rory returned, holding something in her hand. She walked back to Scott, her steps tentative, and handed him a small case. "These... I've been working on these for a while. I know your old glasses were destroyed, and the ones you've been using are from high school. I thought you might need a new pair."

Scott opened the case and found a pair of red-tinted glasses inside, perfectly designed to contain his optic blasts. He looked at Rory, his eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and surprise.

"You made these?" he asked softly.

Rory nodded, a small, sad smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah. I wanted to make sure you had something that fit you better... something that could help you feel more like yourself."

Scott felt his heart swell with emotion. He carefully took off his old glasses and put on the new pair. They fit perfectly, and he could already feel the difference. He looked at Rory, the pain in his heart easing slightly at her thoughtful gesture.

"Thank you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "These... they're perfect."

Rory shrugged, trying to play it off, but her eyes were still wet with tears. "I just wanted to help."

Scott pulled her into his arms again, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You did, Rory. You always do."

As they stood there, holding each other in the quiet of the mansion, Logan's words echoed in Scott's mind. Charles had trusted him to lead, and now, more than ever, he knew he had to step up. But he also knew he didn't have to do it alone. 

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The professor's wheelchair was placed in his office, a permanent resting spot in the home for many mutants. Charles was given a beautiful funeral, attended by all the students. His headstone was exquisitely crafted, and though many tears were shed, it offered a sense of closure to everyone.

As Rory walked down the hallway, she noticed Marie, bag in hand, heading toward the door.

"Need a lift?" Logan asked. "Where you goin'?"

"You don't know what it's like to be afraid of your powers, to be afraid to get close to anybody."

"Yeah, I do," he replied.

"I want to be able to touch people, Logan. A hug, a handshake, a kiss."

"I hope you're not doing this for some boy," Logan said.

Rory approached the two slowly.

"Look, if you want to go, then go. Just be sure it's what you want," Logan advised.

"Shouldn't you be telling me to stay, to go upstairs and unpack?" she asked.

Logan shook his head. "I'm not your father. I'm your friend."

"Just think about what I said, Rogue."

"Marie."

"Marie," he repeated.

Rory walked up to Marie as Logan turned away, looking at her with affection in her eyes.

"Well, I must say, Marie, I'm a little disappointed you weren't going to tell me goodbye."

Marie dropped her bags and hugged Rory around the waist. "I'll miss you."

Rory planted a small kiss on Marie's hair, smiling down at her. "I'll miss you too. You'll always be my best friend."

Marie giggled before squeezing Rory one more time. "This isn't goodbye, more like a 'see you soon,'" she said.

"I'm holding you to that."

Rory watched as Marie picked up her luggage, waved one last time, and left the mansion.

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