What's Lost Can Always Be Found, One Day

I awoke the next morning to the sound of the bathroom door shutting and someone mumbling. I shot up off the couch and for a moment feared that somebody had broken into the cabin and was going to come out with an ax and attack me.

Before remembering about Scott and glancing down at the cot to find it empty, of course. He must have stumbled his way to the bathroom. I stretched as I walked over to the bathroom and tapped on the door lightly. "You okay in there Scott?" I yawned.

"Everything's just dandy," he muttered sarcastically and I heard the toilet flush. I could only imagine the state that I could find the bathroom in, seeing as how he was blind as a bat at the moment.

I groaned at the thought, shaking my head as I heard him wash his hands and then open the door. "Please tell me you at least think you made the hole," I pleaded with him, glad when a smile crossed his face.

"I think I might have managed," he ran his hand along the wall and brushed past me as he felt his way towards the sitting area and plopped down on the couch. He rubbed his hands together and pulled a blanket over his lap. That's when I realized that he was wearing only his boxers.

I blushed a bit as I went to the side room and dug through the dresser on the far side of the room that my father had stored a large number of his clothes. Satisfied with the sweats, socks, and sweater, I piled them together and walked back to where Scott was and sat them down in his lap. "They're not much, but I suppose it's better than going around in your skivvies," I chuckled uneasily as I cleared my throat and went to the bathroom.

I emerged a good ten minutes later, wearing only my bathrobe as my damp hair hung down my back. I walked to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee and got two mugs down. "How do you like your coffee Scott?" I glanced over at the couch and stared at the back of his.

"Just a little sugar," he muttered as he turned his face towards me and sniffed the air. "Smell's good."

I only nodded as I waited for the coffee to finish before pouring us both a mug. I carried his over to him and placed it in his hands. "Be careful, it's hot," I sat down in the chair across from the couch and sipped on my coffee. "Storm should pass soon, I glanced out the window at the slightly less blowing snow. "How do you plan on getting back exactly?"

He only sipped on his coffee, but didn't offer any suggestions for a long time. "If I could get to a phone I might be able to reach somebody back at the school. But then again, it's going to be kind of tough," he trailed off as he continued to sip on his coffee.

"Well we can't get out on the main road in my truck," I sighed as I shook my head. "Well, I could but it would take forever. The roads are bound to be awful and there's going to be at least a few feet in some places," I stood up and held my robe close to my body. "I could take you to the nearest town. I'm sure they'll have a phone there. Let me just go get dressed and-"

"You're not dressed," he leaned forward and almost bumped into me. "I mean-" he sat down his mug and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "I um..."

I only shook my head. "I'm gonna go get dressed real quick. You should do the same," I chuckled as I brushed my hair back and quickly walked to the backroom and pulled out a pair of long johns, jeans and a sweater and changed. I left my hair down as I slid on a pair of socks and walked back into the kitchen. "Are you hungry Scott?" he had already dressed and was sitting on the couch. I didn't ask how he managed to change so quickly and so easily. He must have had a lot of practice.

"I could eat," he said simply as he continued to sip on his coffee.

Taking this as a request for breakfast, I rummaged around the kitchen and started to prepare a small meal. I scrambled half a dozen eggs and fried half a package of bacon and made some toast. In just about twenty minutes it was done. I walked over to Scott after I set the table and looked down at him, admiring his strong cheekbones. "It's done," I said softly as I placed my hand on his arm. He allowed me to guide him to the table and I sat down beside him and poured him a glass of juice.

He fumbled for a few moments before managing to eat a few pieces of bacon. I could see the frustration and determination in his eyes. He scooped up a forkful of eggs but they fell in his lap before he made it to his mouth. "Ugh," he muttered as he reached forward and nearly knocked over his glass but I caught it just in time.

I scooped up some eggs on my fork and placed the tip against his lips. He refused to open his mouth at first and I sighed. "Just eat Scott," I muttered as he finally opened his mouth and hurriedly chewed the eggs. I continued to feed him slowly until his plate had been cleaned. "Do you want anymore?" I asked softly.

He only shook his head as he stood up shakily and moved slowly back to the couch and sat down. I cleaned up the mess and bit my lip as I walked over to the couch. "When can we leave?" he was just sitting there with his head hanging down, looking quite pitiful.

"I'll go get things ready," I muttered.

Scott only mumbled in acknowledgement as I walked over to teh doora nd slid on my boots and the over-sized parka. I grabbed the keys hanging on a hook just before walking out into the blistering cold. I made my way to the garage clumsiily, my mind clearly on things other than the task at hand. My hands fumbled a bit with the padlock, but I finally managed to unlock it as I slid the door upwards. "There you are," I grinned at the truck sitting in the garage; it was as if it was waiting on me. I unplugged the cord, ensuring that the batter-operated generator was still in working condition before opening up the driver's side door and starting the engine.

"That's a good boy," I chuckled as I heard the big diesel engine roar to life. It was fifteen years old, but my father had kept it in pristine condition. He'd loved the truck like it was his own flesh and blood, and in a way it was. I chuckled as I gathered a few necessities from the garage and tossed them into the bed of the truck. First I put a large pile of sandbags and even some snow from outside to help weigh it down. Then I threw in a shovel and an ax, just in case. I finally felt satisfied as I grabbed a thick blanket off of the workbench and threw it in the cab. Once everything was ready, I quickly put a set of chains on the tires. The truck got good traction, but I didn't want to take any chances on getting stuck.

I stomped my feet on the rug just inside the door as I shook off the snow. "Ready?" Scott said as he stood up and slowly made his way to the door.

For a man that had just gotten over hypothermia, he wasn't moving around too badly. "I'm just going to grab a thermos and grab something to take with us for lunch." I brushed past him and went to the kitchen where I proceeded to fill a thermos and make four sandwiches. I shoved them in a paper bag along with a whole bag of Fritos. I grabbed my bag from beside the couch that held all of my imporant personal items, as well. "Think I'm ready now," I walked back towards Scott and furrowed my brow. "Here, wear this," I slid my thicker parka off of the coat rack and helped him put it on, buttoning and zipping it for him. "And these," he held my shoulder for balance as he stepped into a pair of large snow boots.

"Are we ready now?" he let out a sigh as I handed him the paper bag containing the food.

I rolled my eyes as I grabbed his arm and carefully led him from the cabin, locking the door behind us. I pulled him to the truck and helped him get situated bbefore I climbed into the drivers seat. I'd pulled the truck out and shut the garage door already, so I was ready to go. I threw his leather jacket, that I had grabbed at the last possible second, in his lap. "Well, here we go," I buckled him up and put the truck in gear.

It took us half an hour to even get down the narrow lane to the road. I'd cursed everyone and everything as I'd had to get out twice to remove debris. The snow had knocked a large number of branches down, so it was a bit difficult. When we finally got to the road, I let out a sigh. Luckily the road wasn't as bad as it could have been. It appeared as though most of the snow had drifted over onto the side. Which was a huge relief. I popped in the only cassette tape in the entire truck and stifled a sob when I heard the music. It was my father's Merle Haggard tape. His favorite one of all time. As I glued my eyes to the road, I could hear his voice in the back of my mind.

"We don't smoke marijuana in Muskogee, do we darling? No, we don't take our trips on LSD," he would goose my leg so that I would give in.

"Dad," I'd roll my eyes before I'd finally join in. "You know this isn't my favorite song," and I'd fast forward a bit and he'd only grin. "Momma tried!" I'd laugh as we'd rock our heads in beat with the song.

We'd share a thermos of hot cocoa and laugh about old times. There was never an uncomfortable silence. His voice would often lull me to sleep and I'd nod off with my head on his shoulder.

"Are you okay Ayden?" Scott broke me out of my daze. "You sound like you're crying over there.

I brushed my cheeks quickly and discovered that he was right. "Just dandy," I muttered under my breath as I tightned my grip on the wheel and continued to plough through the snow. "How are you doing over there Scott?" I glanced over to find him gripping the door handle tightly with his face all scrunched up. "Um, are you going to be okay?"

"Yes," he said stiffly as we hit a slight bump. "It's just not easy riding along not being able to see what's going on," he drew in a shallow breath. "What's with the redneck music?"

I tapped my fingers on the wheel and shook my head. "My dad and I listened to this all of the time. He is-was the biggest Merle fan. If you don't want to listen to it-" I reached for the radio but he caught my hand.

"It's fine," he jerked his hand away as if my touch was poisonous. "I'm just-" he sighed. "I'm just nervous about going back I guess."

I just nodded my head, forgetting for a moment that he couldn't see me. "I'm not sure I understand. I mean, you've only been gone a few days, right?"

"I don't know what I'm going to find when I get back," he muttered under his breath, basically telling me that he didn't want to talk about it anymore.

Silence filled the cab as I thought over his well chosen words. "Where is it exactly that you're going Scott?"

"New York," he said casually. "The school's in Manchester, New York."

I only nodded as I hummed along with the music. "Do you like it there? I mean, what do you do?"

"It's a nice school, lots of friendly people for the most part," he trailed off for a second. "Professor Xavier, that is Charles Xavier, he founded the school when I was a teenager and took me in. I teach Mathematics and Mechanics."

I grinned and briefly thought of him getting greased up under the hood. "Interesting combination."

"Yeah," he said softly. "I like working with the kids. I think that you would like the school Ayden. There's a large variety of students."

"All mutants, of course," I muttered.

He paused and sat in stony silence for a moment. "I keep getting the strange feeling that you don't particularly love the fact that you're a mutant."

My throat constricted and I swallowed slowly. "I was mad at him. He was already at the bottom of the hill, teasing me. But, it wasn't because he beat me down the hill. He'd left before me after talking about how he was disappointed that I'd dropped out of college," I felt the tears brimming in my eyes but refused to let them fall. "Scott, I was mad at him, at the world, at myself... I just stood there as the dangerous snow washed over my shoulders and went crashing down the hill," I could still remember the cries of horror.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, his face turned towards the window.

It was obvious that when he'd lost Jean that he had been through a lot, but he had no idea the guilt that I was feeling. "Sure you are," I sighed as we lapsed into yet another uncomfortable silence.

Not another word was spoken between us as we finally edged into town. The roads had been plowed and it appeared as if all two hundred and fifty seven residents were on Main Street, shopping and simply walking around.

Everybody, it appeared, found the truck interesting. Needless to say we were followed by every gaze as we pulled into the lot at the Sheriff's office. "Well, lets get going Scott," I turned off the truck and climbed out, going around to his side to help him out as well. "Lets see about getting you home," I led him carefully up the steps and into the building.

"Ms. Winters?" I jumped in surprise as Deputy Franklin stopped me in front of the main desk. "Is there something that I can help you with Ma'am?"

I smiled politely at him and firmly held onto Scott's arm. "This kind gentleman wishes to use the phone in order to contact his friends and family in the States," he raised his brow in confusion. "So you would you mind showing me to a phone Deputy? I would be much obliged."

"Yes Ma'am," he motioned to the door on his right. He led us to a small office and I sat Scott down behind the desk.

"What's the number Scott?" I handed him the receiver. He quickly rattled off the number and I dialed it for him.

It took a few moments to connect before a look of relief crossed his face. "Ororo?" I let out a sigh of relief.

Feeling intrusive, I gave him one pat on the shoulder and followed the Deputy out of the room. We sat down in the 'waiting' room and sipped on coffee. "Thank you for allowing him to use the phone. I really-"

"How'd you come across that man?" he interrupted me. "The weather has been too bad for any travel."

I smiled forcefully. "Actually he was kind of a lost hiker. I didn't really get much out of him though. He's still a bit shook up about the whole thing. He made it all the way from Alkalai Lake and-"

"Alkalai Lake?" he looked both surprised and cautious. "There was an incident up there awhile back. The place is basically a graveyard," he paused in thought. "He really travelled pretty far then, huh?" he rubbed his stubbled beard thoughtfully. "That's impressive. So, Ms. Winters, how are you holding up? Still doing well?"

I nodded slowly. "Thank you for asking."

"I know this must all be hard on you, but you seem to be handling this all rather well," he placed his hand on my leg and gave it a friendly squeeze. "Your father was a good man. He was always good to this town despite the fact that he usually only spent a few months here a year. Not exactly my idea of a vacation spot, but he always seemed to be at home here. Unlike most Yanks."

I looked down at his hand and cringed inwardly. "Deputy, if you'll kindly remove your hand-" I glanced up as Scott fumbled out of the room. "Did you get everything settled?"

"Where's the bathroom?" his face blanched as he turned his face to me.

Another deputy appeared out of nowhere and led him away.

"Doesn't look like the conversation with his friends went well," Deputy Franklin rubbed his thumb on my leg. "Why is it that whenever I've asked you out in the past you've always turned me down?"

I bit my tongue and smiled at him. "James, get your hand off of me right now before I break it," I stood up and walked down the hall and stood outside of the bathroom door. I cringed because I could hear Scott inside, emptying his stomach of his breakfast and sobbing.

"Ayden," I gasped as I was pressed up against the wall, James's hands on both sides of my head. "For two years you've been avoiding me, always finding some excuse. I know that you just lost your father, but I'm tired of just waiting. Do you think that I mind that you're different? Hell, you're probably a mutant," he leaned forward a bit and I widened my eyes in surprise. "There was something fishy about that avalanche. But, that's just between us."

I clenched my fists in anger and glared up at him. "James, I don't know what you're talking about. Get away from me. You know how much I hate you?" he leaned closer and I quivered in fear. "James..."

"Oh Ayden," he pressed his lips to my neck, his stubble rubbing my skin roughly. I tried pushing him away, but my strength was nothing compared to his body weight and obvious strength. I let out a gasp of fear as the anger bubbled to the surface. My body shook slightly, and I could faintly hear the sound of glass breaking. "What the?" James pulled away and looked down the hall to see that the floor was slowly splitting in two. "I thought you could do somethin' with air," he looked a bit scared. "Ayden," he leaned in again and kissed me, as if he thought that I would enjoy it, pressing me up against the wall roughly.

"Get away," the walls began to shake as I attempted to push him away again.

"Ayden?" I galnced over to see Scott standing outside of the bathroom, his hand pressed against the wall and a worried expression on his face. "Do you get earthquakes in Canada?" he stumbled towards us as the walls and the ground stopped shaking.

James forced my gaze back to him and grinned. "That's a good girl Ayden. Now what do you say we go have a nice lunch?"

"Fuck yourself, James," I finally found my courage somewhere inside of me. "Get away from me before-"

"Before what?" James laughed as he pointed over at Scott. "Your blind friend over there going to-"

I let out a shriek as Scott's fist connected with the side of James's Face, knocking him to the floor. "I believe she said to fuck yourself," Scott stepped over James and grasped my arm. "I think it's time we get out of here."

I could only guide him out of the building in silence, helping him into the truck and quickly pulled out of the lot. We drove in complete silence for five minutes before I pulled over to the side of the road, my breaths coming in shallow gasps. "Scott-I- thank you," I shuddered as I rested my forehead on the steering wheel.

His hand rested on my shoulder but then it disappeared quickly. "Can't believe he had the nerve to do that with so many people around," I glanced over and watched as he rubbed his eyes tiredly. He looked even more worn and tired than he had the day before.

"Did you get a hold of your friends Scott?" he frowned and slowly nodded his head. "And?" I wanted to know what they'd had to say.

He opened his mouth and surprised me when his body shook with a silent sob. Understanding his grief somehow, I unbuckled my seat belt and slid across the seat, hugging him towards me. His face was pressed against my shoulder. I rubbed his back, trying to comfort him. We sat there like that for a long period of time in silence. "Everything's changed," he finally choked out. "I called and-" he choked up and couldn't finish.

"Scott, calm down," I whispered softly. "Now, what are you trying to say? Are they coming to get you?"

He only shook his head. "The jet," he muttered. "It's gone. Everything's gone.

What? A jet? He what? How was he going to get back? Was he even going back?

"Scott, it's okay," he ripped out of my arms, shaking his head angrily. "What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing," he pressed his face up against the window. "Nothing."

I made up my mind at that moment, konwing that I would regret it sooner or later. "I'm going to take you home."

He faced me, his features haggard and sad. "You are?"

I am? "Yes, I am Scott," I buckled back up and took a deep breath. "And on the way you are going to tell me what happened," I glanced at the clock. "You've got a good nine hours to tell me your story," I started the truck back up. "Or you can stay here. I'm sure James would love to put you up somewhere."

His sob turned into a quick chuckle. "You would drive me all the way there? Why?"

"I-" I shrugged. "Maybe you'll come to trust me by the time we get there," I put the truck in gear and the journey began.

Just yesterday I was convinced that I would stay in the cabin, away from everybody and everything until I was out of supplies. And here I am driving one of the most handsome men I had ever seen across North America. A man I didn't even know.

"Thank you," he said quietly as he reached over and clumsily turned the radio up. "If we make it through December," Scott surprised me by singing along with the song.

I could only smile and blush as I listened to him sing. His voice was magical, but I could hear his grief in his singing, but there was nothing I could do about it.

He too is simply a lost soul.