Disclaimer: None of the X-men are mine, nor do I lay any claim to them. This is just for fun and for enjoyment only.

"Sometimes it seems easier to forget, put it to the back of your mind, drift away on the here and now and forget. That's a defence mechanism, makes it easier to cope with – whatever it is you want to forget. Problem is – as a telepath, I can never forget. My perfect memory, thanks to my powers, makes everything I see or experience as real when I recall it as it was when he left. I mean, when it happened…

I can't believe it, even now. He's gone. Completely from my mind and my reach. He won't call or write, or even pick up a phone. My darling boy won't give me a second look, or thought."

Jean looked at her diary with eyes full of tears, closing it before they fell and smudged her writing. Turning around, she faced the room and saw him all over it. Little things that had been theirs, they were now void of everything except substance. And that was a push, as she felt like they were nothing to her.

Getting up, she moved across to her sleeping children who were sprawled on the bed. They were sick of crying and so was she. No one had seen it coming, well… no one would admit to it, but they'd all seen it. In how he'd spoken, looked and moved. There had been no denying it, but they all had. All of them had lied, Jean included. It had been easier to handle that way, pretending it would never come.

She sat to one side of the eldest, her little girl that was all grown up. Choking back a sob, Jean smiled softly and gently moved her hair from in front of her face, so she could sleep easier. Moving her youngest son a little way to stop him falling off the bed, Jean kissed his forehead lightly, smiling again as he twitched and mumbled something.

"No, you can't make me stay! Just give it up Jean…"

Standing, she made herself walk to the door, opening it quietly and shutting it more silently still. Leaning her head against the wood, tears ran down her face and she wept silently, pressing her body back against the cold door, holding the handle with one hand.

It wasn't fair, she hadn't done anything to deserve it, and neither had their children. All they had done was love him, and tried to make everything perfect. It had been so wonderful. Something they had barely dared dream of, and it had been everything and so much more.

She drew a shaky breath and tried to quell the tears, and dry the heartache. They were lasting, that was for certain, but not for right now. Now they needed to move on, find a way to live again. Without him.

Jean hugged herself and walked slowly down the corridor, remembering the last few months with agonising detail. Each moment had been more painful, every lingering gaze showing the truth behind the sentences left unfinished. Every word not spoken telling all the lies they had wanted to believe.

'How can something so beautiful die…' she thought sadly and traced their family portrait that Charles had taken himself. Her fingertips followed every line of his face, lines she had only a week ago traced on his warm skin.

"Why are you fighting this? Fighting me? Jean… it's over…"

Swallowing another wave of tears, Jean watched shadows flitting across the staircase – people who daren't look at her, look into her eyes. Those that had helped her pretend. She half smiled wryly and shook her head, her short fiery red hair swishing about her ears, though now streaked with silver. Emeralds sparkled in her sad eyes, the light in them faded since he had left them.

She felt the mind before the hand on her shoulder. The one honest person, who she had hated for not believing, who she had screamed at for not helping, who had been there all the way through, who had promised to look after them all. Jean looked around and met Logan's eyes levelly, not bothering to disguise the pain she felt.

He pulled her roughly into a tight embrace, one that told her how sorry he was. Jean tensed, then relaxed, allowing herself a moment of comfort though her heart was still breaking. He said something, but she didn't hear the words, just felt the feelings behind them. And for those feelings, she forgave him all he had refused to lie about; she forgave them both. In that moment, she accepted what she had sworn never to do.

"I'm sorry Jeannie."

"I'm sorry Jean… Redd, you have to forgive me, maybe not now, but in time…"

Jean shook her head and half smiled once more, this time with some of her own self in it. Her eyes said everything that Logan needed to know, and he wasn't going to make her speak. She had enough on her mind without him pressuring her.

She pulled away slowly, and he let her. They both knew that it was wrong, had known since the first time they'd spoken properly, without his arm around her throat. Jean had denied him, never done anything more than flirted, until she saw how much she was hurting her at the time fiancé, now her absent husband.

They had agreed, she had made him understand. Scott was her one and only, and she was his. It wasn't fair to hurt him over lust and confused feelings. It wasn't fair to lead Logan on. Jean had been honest to herself, for once wholly and with all her mind. Xavier thought he had caged the Phoenix, and Jean had let him believe it, but they were one and the same, and both loved Scott, not Logan.

The facts of the matter were that Scott was gone and he wasn't going to come back. That choked the life out of her, but she had to live, for their children's sakes at very least, and for the others that were casting blame as to his departure. She felt guilty, she should've done something when there was time, but she hadn't. She should've picked up on it a long time before she had started to feign ignorance upon its discovery.

"Don't… please… there's no blame to place. Sometimes these things happen. Who were we to swear forever Jean?"

'Who indeed…' she thought sadly, as she turned to walk downstairs, and Logan began to go back to his room. 'But we were so in love, we deserved forever.'

Jean liked remembering her pregnancies, and his face when they discovered each one. They both had been so happy, and although feeling drained, she had had the energy to laugh as he swung her around in his arms, to hold him tight when they were alone later and feel him cry without tears.

Anne and Alex, their children, both named for people they had loved and lost. Her best friend and his little brother – the understanding between them had made each name easy to choose. For Jean, when Scott told her what he thought they should name their little girl – when they stood cradling her when she was barely an hour old – she had wept with joy and for the little girl that she had lost long ago. For Scott, naming Alex was more than that, he had blamed himself and this meant a chance to make up for something he felt he hadn't done. Yet, he had gone and left them.

How was that fair, that he got to give her everything and snatch the ground from beneath her feet. It didn't seem very fair or nice, not to Jean, and not to anyone else, that he would give so much to them, make them all feel so comfortable to only remove himself once he'd accomplished it.

"It wasn't planned, not to start with… these thing happen. Sometimes even when you take every precaution possible they happen."

Her lip trembled and her beautiful head bowed in shame. She was blaming him, just as he'd told her she would, just as she had said she wouldn't. But it was done with. Over. No room to argue in these circumstances.

"Mom?" Alex's small voice trembled through the kitchen in which she sat.

He was the picture of Scott, the absolute mirror, but he could see. Scott had been terrified for both kids that they would have discoloured eyes or something wrong with their vision. He'd been wrong.

Alex's eyes were chocolate brown, like Scott's had been, though Alex's had a swirl of emerald green in the heart of them. His hair was floppy and cute – annoying his father came to think of it as he grew older. It had made Jean laugh. They shared little habits, unconscious ones – like the fact that they both would eat a bag of chips then twist the bag into a bow, like the little noises they made when they slept, both were light sleepers and would mumble about what the most stressful parts of their day had been.

Anne was a lot like her, her hair was a fiery red, albeit a little on the darker side than Jeans, and her eyes were piercingly green. The expression in them was readable, much like her mother. They could be hard and severe, or soft and welcoming – the range of emotion she could express with a look was something both parents had been incredibly proud of – she and Scott had understood each other more at points because of it. His lack, her gain, they had joked as she grew up. Anne was so loving, and so outgoing, it was everything Jean had been terrified of a daughter of hers being like. Scott had told her to stop trying to make their daughter less like her, it was in her genes.

They had been one heckuva family, and a good one, Jean mused, lost in her thoughts until Alex tugged her arm.

"Mommy…"

She looked at him and blinked. It had been years since he'd called her that. "What's wrong sweetie?"

He stood as tall as her now, but he still had growing to do. Anne had been cross, but Jean had soothed her easily. As he knelt to talk to her, Jean knew he was hurting as much as she was, if not more. He'd always had his father, never not been without him for more than two days.

"I wanna see Dad." He said, his voice cracking, not just due to puberty, but with raw emotion and heartfelt heartache. "We all… we have to."

Jean nodded slowly and stood. "Get your brother and sister."

Alex closed his eyes. "Mom…-"

"No!" Her eyes flared then she calmed. "Please Alex, do as I ask."

Pulling back, he nodded and opened his eyes. "Alright. Alright."

As he turned Jean felt all anger leave her. She looked out of the window and past everything the eye could see. With her mind she travelled, and with her mind she saw where he was supposed to be. Her heart felt cold until a memory made it spark to life again. Turning she saw her three darlings wrapped up warm, looking to her for guidance.

"Alex will you take Chris to the car please?" She asked, her eyes lingering on Anne – remaining there after her two boys had gone. "Anne, I've never tried-"

"Save it Mom."

Jean recoiled as if she'd been slapped. Anne's shields were up to full and those wonderfully expressive eyes were giving her the coldest look she had ever witnessed. Looking at her, Jean could see her husband once more, stubborn and hard-headed when he had the facts.

"I know. Alright, I know – he told me. He told me and you didn't, and you tried to hide it as well? I never classed you as a coward Mom."

"Anne, you know that's not true." Jean said simply. "I didn't want to, he told me and I told him not to be silly."

Anne fell silent then looked away, her anger draining visibly from her face and body. Her lower lip trembled and she turned, stalking away to the car. Jean half sighed a breath of relief; she hadn't lost her. She was still her daughter, her Annie.

Settled in the car, Alex was in the front, Chris and Anne in the back – no doubt thanks to a little rearranging by Anne. Jean pulled on her coat and looked at them all. So grown up, all of them. Even the youngest of them…

Alex was thirteen! A teenager and looking to be a heartthrob if he kept it up, with his manners, respect and flawless complexion he was looking to be the hit of the school. He was still her baby, but he didn't need her like he used to.

At that age Anne had proven herself to pull it off with ease, she had the confidence, the attitude and the right amount of modesty to get any male to chase her – Jean had been proud, Scott had been horrified. Now at fifteen she was a babe, and hotly pursued by most.

Chris was the eldest, but the most dependant. Her eyes filled at the thought of what he had been through. Their first and most beautiful baby –in her eyes. He had been born with powers that none had imagined, the capacity for mental growth that had never been recorded. He had big blue eyes and a shock of black hair – a surprise to both parents. He did have natural highlights, ranging from brown to a dark auburn, but for the main part he had black hair. Their miracle son, born after she had risen from the grave, only two months after in fact.

Scott had found her, on the shore, Phoenix free, but he had touched her – so gently with just one hand, he had reached forward and put his palm to her cheek. She had submitted. She had been prepared, but he had not kissed her, not laid anything but that hand on her. Jean had been surprised, relieved; he seemed to understand. Fainting into his arms, he had taken her home.

Logan had wanted her, she could taste it in his glances and smell it in his actions. Storm had made it clear, and so had Scott – wooing her in her late pregnancy with charm she had almost forgotten. He hadn't lost it again, not since then.

They had known he would be unique, a child developing for over nine months and being birthed like a normal term child. People had wanted him – scientists that knew of the X-Men and somehow knew of Chris. They had hurt them all in trying to take him away. For five and a half years they pounded them with everything they had – ran their tests from a distance, not caring who else they harmed.

Chris had eventually ridded them of cause. His mind overloaded, everything he should've learnt over years to come pressed onto him and he couldn't handle it. Jean knew how it felt – she had been the same when Annie had died, when as a little girl she had witnessed death first hand. He witnessed more than she could imagine and all the blocks that she and Xavier imposed were nothing to him, they did nothing.

He made a whining noise as she got into the car and blessed her with a slow smile. He understood completely, he was older than the others, nearly twenty now. Jean answered mentally, very gently and quietly, causing him to sit back and calm down. Starting the engine she admitted she was scared again, scared of what they would find. A shiver ran through her as the car pulled slowly from the garage and toward the gates. The driveway was long enough to give her a chance to compose herself into the woman the outside world knew. The Jean Grey-Summers that everyone admired for her strength in the senate. The Doctor admired for her skill and persistence, even in the darkest of times. Her optimism, her beauty, her determination, her honesty.

She was a mutant, a strong one. As Charles had been elected President, before hers and Scott's wedding, they had revealed all. She had been the first to stand up with her fiancé and say "I am what I am. Love or hate, I can't and I refuse to change". It had been a glorious triumph, the smiles of the mutants in hiding, the one beside her being the brightest of them all.

That was when she had announced her affiliation with the X-Men, announced that she wanted to be counted as one – whether she was hated for it or not, because she believed in them. In the people she loved.

Scott had been close to tears, hell, she was willing to bet he would've cried his heart out, if he could've. It saved him, his powers, saved him from appearing anything less than the strong, young field commander of the X-Men. The quiet love of her life that had supported her through it all – thick, thin and all the places between.

By the time she had replayed the memories up to their wedding day, they had arrived. Anne was the first out, her expression unreadable, but her eyes giving her away. The sorrow was deep and unrestrained. Jean understood as it was mirrored in her own, and that of both her sons. The family torn, and so lost in their own whirlwind of emotion that none could comfort the others now they needed it the most.

Picking their way silently across, they all didn't communicate, in eyes meeting or telepathic whispers of comfort. Each an island, completely alone in a barren sea. Jean felt the waves encompass her, drowning her with all the memories she cherished, saw the horizon darken, for this time there was no phoenix to save both their hearts, to make a future where in a fair world there always should have been.

Anne's knees gave way first, Alex catching her and holding her close as tears rained from her eyes, those beautiful expressive eyes, and she revealed all that she had kept inside. Alex remained calm, tears in his eyes, but they'd never fall. Not when they needed someone to lean on, not ever if they needed his strength.

Jean choked back a sob, the agony of seeing Scott so reflected in him almost too much to bear. She covered her mouth and let moisture come from her own eyes silently, without fuss or attention being drawn. She was drawn into a pair of strong arms, and a soft chest, a warm embrace and she was startled. Looking up into the calm blue eyes of her eldest, Jean remained in shock.

Chris was the opposite of them both, they had thought it funny he had been the finishing touch to the extremes. But here he was, more like them than they ever could have realised.

"I'll take care of you." His voice informed them all, causing even a break in Anne's heart-wrenching sobs.

"For Papa, I'll take care of you all."

Biting her lip, Jean felt small, her eldest son had really grown up. His mind was not as hers, or his siblings, but he was by no means stupid, and he only spoke the truth. Part of it was that he didn't understand the concept of lying, but that only made him stronger in his mothers eyes.

Chris let her go, after hugging her tightly. A single moment's eye contact with Alex made his younger brother understand, and believe him. He lifted Anne easily from Alex's arms and looked at the cause of all their grief.

"Goodbye Dad."

Alex was now supporting his mother, as they all gathered round and shared something that through the vast distances between them linked them more tightly than any chain or rope. They were a whole, a unit, a family. Just because the number had decreased by one didn't mean they were all lost.

Jean lingered after her children, their children, had walked back to the car. She smiled faintly, hugging herself against the cold.

"They love you so much Slim, and I- I'm no replacement. They still need you, mothers go out of fashion much faster." She said softly, tears welling up again in her eyes. "I wish you hadn't gone… You would cope so much better than I do."

Her breathing caught in her throat and she blinked back more tears. "I swear-" Her voice was a little more vicious now, harder, angrier. "-I won't let this happen to anyone else. It has to end…"

Now a sob broke free, but she remained standing, her hands covering her face, then moving into a prayer like position by her lips. "Scott, I should've told you more, I should've listened, or done something that would've cured it."

Shaking her head, she smiled weakly. "I love you my darling, don't go far. I need you still my love."

With that she turned from him and walked back to life, her children, where she would learn to cope. He remained, visited as Alex got football medals, and Anne made homecoming queen and later Alex made king. He was there was Anne got married – she came to see him in her gown, just before the ceremony as well as just after. Alex came to say a few words before his own wedding day, he brought his son to see him each year on his birthday.

Jean went every month once, if not more times. Chris went along sometimes, other times he remained silent and would not say a word as she left to go and see his father. He went alone, at midnight and had long conversations about the things they still had to do, and the ones they had done.

He only ever said one thing:

R.I.P.

Scott "Slim" Summers

Cyclops

Loving and proud

Beloved husband and father

You are our heart & soul beyond

the looking glass

Hope you liked my tale, though it wasn't a very upbeat one. I hope it presented a view that is unique and you will agree by reviewing :-D

Sorry about my inability to keep pace in my other stories... I can't seem to get inspiration for Kindergarten, but different ideas spring to mind. I have another fiction I will post soon, and I will try try try! to post a new chapter for any others very soon.

Until then - Much Luv

Summers Groupie

xxx