Author: Pirate Turner
Rating: PG for language
Summary: In a world where the rest of the X-Men persist in failing to see the true heartbreak of two of their own members, Emma and Scott are each other's anchors.
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Het, Established Relationship
Word Count (excluding heading): 952
Disclaimer: Sean "Banshee" Cassidy, Emma "White Queen" Frost, Scott "Cyclops" Summers, Jean Grey-Summers, Teresa "Siryn" Cassidy, James "Jimmy" "Warpath" Proudstar, and the X-Men are & TM Marvel comics and Disney, not the author, and are used without permission. Everything else is & TM the author. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Every time she looked at her, she saw her father. The sun shone on the younger woman's long, red hair as she tossed her head back and laughed merrily with her friends. Even her laughter sounded so much like Sean's that it made Emma's heart hurt fresher and more painfully.
Teresa lowered her head as she saw Emma watching her. Her emerald eyes met the blonde's baby blues, and Emma's breath caught. Sweat broke out over her body, and her heart pounded against her ribcage. Looking into Terry's eyes was just like gazing into her beloved Sean's enchanting emerald eyes, and for one excruciatingly painful moment, Emma could feel Sean so close that it was almost as though he was there again, breathing, living, and standing right in front of her. Her hands clenched.
Teresa smiled grimly. She was all too aware of what Emma saw when she looked at her and how her presence made her feel. Perhaps she should feel sorry for the woman, but Emma had caused her friends and herself far too much grief over the years. Besides, if she truly loved her Da, what was she doing with Scott Summers? "Top o' th' mornin' tae ye, Em," she called over the distance that separated them with a bright, cheery smile.
Chills swept through Emma. That was exactly how Sean had greeted her countless mornings while she'd been lucky enough to have him in her life as a team mate and friend. She stared, transfixed, as Teresa moved closer. "Would ye like tae gi get a cup o' coffee?"
"I . . . I . . . " Emma stammered. "I would like that very much, Teresa." She spoke her name as if to affirm in her mind that it was Sean's daughter she was speaking to and not the man who starred in her every dream.
"We could talk about me Da . . . ," Terry said softly, but then, in the next second, her smile vanished, and in its stead, the girl wore a mask of cruel hatred. Her emerald eyes flashed, and Emma realized too late the trap she had stepped into. " . . . an' how he would've ne'er looked at ye as anythin' even remotely resemblin' a good person, let alone anythin' close tae th' way ye so obviously lusted after 'im. Ye're a cruel an' dirty bitch, Emma, wit' th' blood o' thousands o' innocent lives on yuir hands. Me Da could've ne'er loved ye."
Emma was so shocked and surprised that all she could do was stare and blink back the tears that threatened to well up and betray her. Red-hot pain flushed through her soul as the truth of Teresa's words rang in her ears and stung her whole being. When at last she managed to raise her fist, Jimmy, who was the only one of Teresa's friends who still stood with her for all the rest had scurried away like frightened mice, grabbed the big-mouthed redhead and raced away with her. Emma's fist struck open air.
Then, behind where they had stood, taunting her and silently laughing at her pain, Emma saw Scott standing. Through her tears, she saw him open his arms and begin to walk to her. With pain numbing her mind and making it hard to breathe, she hurried to the safety of his arms.
Scott embraced her tightly while raging a silent war against Teresa and all those who shared her opinions about the woman he held near to his body and dear to his heart. "I'm so sorry, Emma. She shouldn't have said that."
"She only spoke the truth," Emma choked out, her voice strangled by the myriad of emotions that ravaged her soul. "He was such a good man! He could never have -- "
Scott moved with the swiftness of reflexes trained into him over the years. He cupped her face and gazed into her tear-filled eyes as he spoke firmly, "Nonsense. Emma, you have always been a beautiful woman, but you've changed over the years. Your goodness now knows no ends. You spend every moment of every day doing all you can to make up for your past misdeeds, but you can't go back and erase them. That doesn't change the woman you are now though. You're every bit as beautiful inside as you are on the outside, if not more, and there is no way that Sean could not have loved you." {No more,} he concluded silently though he knew she could hear him if she chose, {than I could ever not love Jeannie.}
"Now mask us, sweetheart, and let it go. I'm here, and I promise I'll do my best to keep you safe from their cruelty."
Once, not all that long ago, Emma would have laughed at such an offer, but now she yearned for safety and for just one person to not hate her so desperately that she'd welcomed Scott into her life in ways she never had any one else. She was thankful for the anchor he provided just as she gave him the anchor he needed and portrayed the woman he loved when he could stand the pain no longer.
Scott held Emma, wishing with all his might that she was another woman, as she cried in his arms and yearned with all her heart, as she did every time he touched her, that the strong arms that held her so tightly yet comfortingly belonged to another man. They shared their pain and misery, each being the other's rock, while the rest of the X-Men walked unwittingly around them, never seeing them though they stood in their midst and never realizing their grief even when they stood before them.
The End