"Good-Bye"

Disclaimer: None of the mentioned characters belong to me -- they
are all property of Marvel comics. This was done as a challenge to
myself (specifically to see if I could make Madelyne sympathetic
at the time where I liked her least, circa X-Factor #1). Many
thanks to DuAnn Cowart for beta-reading it for me and queenB for
correcting the grammar. Feedback for Bayeux is appreciated at
fractuslux@yahoo.com.
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He left me. He...left me.

Scott's gone. He walked out, even though I told him that if he did
he shouldn't bother coming back. I shouldn't have said that,
shouldn't have gone that far, but I was so *angry* at him...he's
been working so hard lately it feels like I don't even have a
husband half the time, as if it's just me and Chris. Of course he
has . . . had . . . to work -- I'm on maternity leave to take care
of Christopher and someone needs to keep flying.

This was supposed to be our day off, not . . . not . . .

. . .

Scott's friend Warren Worthington called him. That's where it all
started. Scott wouldn't even say why -- just that he'd been asked
to meet him in New York. Today. The day Scott had promised to
spend at home with me and the baby. I'd been planning it for weeks
-- I had the candles all ready, and I was already defrosting the
roast I was going to cook. I thought we could put Chris to bed
early and make a romantic evening of it. We hadn't been able to
get a decent night alone together since Christopher was born and I
had so been looking forward to tonight . . .

So I snapped. I gave Scott an ultimatum. I didn't mean it . . .
not really. I was just . . . I don't know. Trying to keep him with
me, I guess. I didn't think he'd pick Warren over me. I'm his wife
-- the woman he loves. We're supposed to be equals. And yet he
gets one phone-call from his old super-hero pal and he's off like
a shot, not even thinking about me and Christopher, or what we
would do without him if he got injured or held up, or worse . . .

Is the pull of heroism really that strong? I've had my fair share
of adventures with the X-Men . . . Mastermind tried to use me
against them almost the moment I met them, and just after I became
pregnant with Chris I even got a taste of having powers of my own,
for a little while. I survived, and I never wanted to go back. How
could Scott want to go back to that life? I know he has a strong
sense of duty -- it's one of the things that attracted me to him
in the first place. But . . . I suppose I thought that once we
were married and settled down with Chris he'd shift his focus a
little more towards his family. He was so devoted to the X-Men and
Professor Xavier that I was sure that he would be a good husband
and father, that he'd be able to switch his attentions to us. He
was so gentle when we were dating, so thoughtful . . . and so
hesitant, almost frightened, as if a single wrong move would
destroy everything. I was the one to make the first move, and even
then he tried to push me away with one thing after another. First
he told me about Jean and his history with her, showed me her
picture . . . and was astonished that I still wanted him. Then he
revealed his mutant power the very next morning . . . and still I
told him to stay. It seemed to be like picking at a scab for him,
as if he didn't think he deserved me or couldn't believe I wanted
him. It was endearing, in a way, and almost flattering.

But . . . even when we were dating I felt as if I was in a
competition with the X-Men. I first met them at Wolverine's
wedding in Japan, when Kitty Pryde asked me to hold what I
*thought* was her pet cat. It was as if Scott's loyalties were
divided between what he wanted to do and what he thought he should
be doing. In fact, I've known for certain that his heart has been
with the X-Men ever since the day he left me alone to help the X-
Men in Paris -- the day I gave birth to Chris. I forgave him . . .
he had to do what he felt was right. Even so, I used to tell him
he had to think about what was good for him, not just what was
good for everyone else. I thought that once he left the X-Men we
would get a chance for a normal life in Alaska. I guess I was
wrong. For a long time I wondered what was more important to him -
- our marriage, or the X-Men.

And now he's gone, off to New York to do God knows what with one
of his original teammates, and all I have to show for our marriage
is half-a-dozen unlit candles and a thawing roast on the kitchen
counter. I guess I don't have to wonder anymore.

I can't do this anymore. I can't compete with the X-Men. I've had
a taste of the kind of life they lead on a daily business --
there's no way I could ever dream of matching it. Not if I want to
give Christopher a good, safe life without worrying about whether
or not his father is ever coming home, or if I'm about to be
abducted and held hostage, or if Scott staying home with me could
determine the fate of the world. Once I thought I could. I guess I
was wrong.

Wipe your eyes, get to your feet. Find Christopher, pack his
things, put the meat in the freezer. Or don't. It doesn't matter.
You're never coming back.

You're doing him a favor. Scott doesn't need to be henpecked by
his poor, shrewish little wife -- he has the fate of the world to
worry about. You can do better than him anyway. I'm sure I can
find a normal man who's willing to be me -- I never had any
trouble before. I'm a pilot. I've gone against giant sea-life,
Norse gods, mutant masterminds . . . I'll survive. We'll do fine
without him. I always suspected that it might come to this, but I
wish . . . I wish I'd been wrong. I wanted so much for this to
work out, but I think that, deep down, I always knew it just
wasn't meant to be.

Good bye, Scott, and thanks for the good times. I'll miss you.

Good bye.

End.