Title: I want to tell you, you my mirror, you my iron bars.
Series: X-Factor (1st series.)
Rating: PG-ish
Pairing: Scott/Jean.
Disclaimer: Own Nothing.
Notes: Takes place somewhere between issues 40 and 41, in the wake of Inferno.
Written for challenge #2: "The power of three" at the JeannieXSlim Live-journal community.
Summary: Jean, having only recently regained her telepathy, is trying to adjust to life with Scott, baby Christopher, and her own demons.

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It had been so long… this warm embrace, this feeling of fulfillment… of completion… this afterglow. The ship's walls were cold hard steel. But for now, in this room, in this bed, in Scott's arms… Jean felt 'right' for the first time in months… for the first time since… since… well. Since that damned energy creature stole her life, slaughtered billions of innocents, and utterly destroyed the man she loves.

For now, for this moment, everything was perfect. Smiling as she nuzzled contently into Scott's arms, sharing his warmth as they drifted lazily to sleep. It was absolutely wonderful, and every bit of what she remembered. This, of course, could not last.

She could feel it coming; sensing little Christopher beginning to stir immediately. The bond she had forged with him less than a week ago during the inferno that would have seen his sacrifice was still strong. For a moment she considered silencing him. A slight telepathic nudge gently pushing the child back to sleep so she could continue to enjoy the moment.

A pair of sharp howls spaced apart by some more controlled blubbering from the makeshift nursery across the hall heralded the awaking of the perfect innocent babe. Her eyes shut tight wishing she would have taken the opportunity to silence him, if only for a minute longer. It was a selfish thought, but she had only recently regained her telepathic abilities and wasn't nearly as good at screening out stray thoughts as she used to be. She knew exactly where Scott's mind would go while holding his son in his arms. Forcing a slight smile she hummed lightly in response as Scott softly breathed that it was 'his turn' into her ear. He squeezed her tightly for a moment before releasing her and sliding out of their bed.

She can't help but read the bright flashing neon. Regret. God; the regret. She wondered how long she could take this. The genuine smile Scott reserved for his child masked a swirling miasma of torment. He loves the boy more than life itself, but the thoughts that looking into little Christopher's eyes spark…

He should have stayed in Alaska. Why wasn't his family enough for him? Was fighting for the dream worth abandoning his only son? Why couldn't Madelyne understand that he couldn't just be Scott? That he needed the dream. He blamed himself for the inferno. He could have saved her. He should have saved her. God damnit he loved her, why wouldn't she let him save her.

Jean had blocked his misery as best she could, but upon his return to the bedroom it overwhelmed her. She shivered at the soft kiss he placed on her shoulder as he slipped back under the covers. His arms no longer warm to her; she felt no comfort in his embrace. She made a mental note to ask Warren what the hell Scott's random thought that life would have been so much simpler if he stayed on that damned shrimp boat could possibly mean.

She retreated into her own thoughts, fantasies, or were they memories… Sleep immediately becoming a welcome escape from Scott's brooding. Her breathing slowed and steadied as dreamland accepted her.

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Overtaken by desire while swaying in the firelight; dancing with Scott to the sound of light crackles and pops from the fire pit. The tape had long since run out. She didn't remember buying that dress.

A scream as she awakens; a nightmare haunting her on a blissful evening. Scott rushes to her side; holds her, comforts her, offers a compassionate ear when she is calm enough to speak. She looks around, not remembering ever having a fireplace in her bedroom.

It's a beautiful spring day, the grounds of Xavier's mansion. She peers nervously into the tent, a gathering like she has never seen. Looking down she notices her dress. White, pristine, finally she is a bride. At the altar stands the love of her life. His younger brother is standing beside him, the best man. Who is the young brunette on the other side of the altar? Why wouldn't Ororo be her maid of honor?

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Her eyes open to the sharp wail of her son's cries. She turns in their bed, running a hand gently across Scott's cheek; whispering that it's 'her turn' while kissing him softly on the forehead. She pulled her robe on and started for the door, but first tuned around and leaned across the bed to lay another kiss on Scott's cheek. At the door she turned back once again, eying Scott for a moment before making her way across the hall.

She was grinning ear to ear as she lifted the child out of his crib; alternating jollying him in her arms and kissing him on the forehead. The child beamed at her while bouncing as she quietly told him that Jean Grey may have stolen her husband; but she would never have him… her beautiful little Nathan.

No one knows my plan.

(Asitiswhenitwas)
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