Tough Love
Author: Nefret24
Disclaimers: Don't own them, never will. Lucky bastards, Marvel & WB.
Category: Scott/Jean, with a teensy ' bit o' Rogue angst, post ep "Mindbender"
Author's Note: My first Evo fanfic. Many many apologies in advance for anything I screw up- still learning the canon. Sorry too about the lack of BoM and most of the younger X-Men- like I said, still trying to figure out who is what to whom
Thoughts versus Telepathy And I'm not writing in accents for Rogue and Kurt- you know what they sound like better than I do, I'm sure.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
**Squish**
Wha? Jean groggily awoke, feeling cold and wet, the surface underneath her skin slick and foul-smelling. Excruciating pain throbbed throughout her skull, so acute that she could barely open her eyes.
Mud. It's mud. Struggling against the protesting drumbeats in her head, she tried to raise herself off the ground. Almost instantly, a warm hand found its way behind her back, supporting her as she fell again, his arms around her, protective and comforting. She knew it was him before she squinted through the mud and her lashes and saw his concerned face looking back at her. "Scott," she breathed.
"Jean. Are you alright?"
Am I alright? My head is pounding, I've woken up in full battle gear in the middle of nowhere covered in mud, I can't remember how the hell I got here or what is going on should I be alright? "I'm- I'm fine," she managed, still clutching his arms and resting her weight against his chest.
I know he's making a face. 'Jean is always fine, ha.' Like he's so much better at showing his weaknesses. Still relying on Scott to support her, she shakily came to her feet.
Then as he steadied her, still squinting and shivering, he frowned again. "Jean, you're anything but fine."
Her teeth began to chatter, creating double echoes within her head- that of the malicious pounding and now the click-clack of molars. "I'm- I-"
"Fine," he finished with a quick half-smile. "Yeah." Brushing the hair out of her eyes and wiping away some the mud, he let his hand linger on her cheek for a few seconds more than was strictly necessary before taking her by the arms and leading her toward the X-Jet. "Let's get you someplace warm."
Scott half-carried, half-led Jean to the jet. Their progress was slow, and everyone had gotten settled in. Kitty, Evan and Kurt were dazed but okay, Kitty profusely apologizing to Logan for the administered kick-to-the-shins. He was driving, with the Professor beside him, so Scott took his place next to Jean and Mr. McCoy in the back of the plane.
"Nice and easy now," McCoy said, as Scott helped Jean into the med cot. Her eyes were still fluttering open and closed, and she was barely aware of her surroundings.
As Scott watched McCoy examine Jean, he held her hand in his and stroked it. She's so pale. The hand he held was cold as ice. Jean, what happened to you?
McCoy finished checking her eyes and sat back. "She's going to be fine," he murmured to Scott, who let out an audible sigh. "Just has one hell of a headache, I'd bet." Patting Scott on the back, he took a seat nearby.
Jean lay on the cot with a blanket wrapped around her. Her half opened eyes focused on Scott.
"Hank says you'll be fine," he whispered.
"Thank you," she managed before passing out and drifting off to sleep.
When they arrived home, Kitty, Kurt and Evan headed straight for their rooms, exhausted in mind and body. Logan said he'd take care of locking up while McCoy and the Professor accompanied Scott who insisted on carrying Jean inside. Rogue followed behind them, rankling over the battle that had just ensued. Jean almost killed him and he carries her to the infirmary!
McCoy was put in charge of helping Jean get clean, while the Professor, Rogue and Scott decided to discuss the events of the night.
"How could Mesmero be so powerful?" Rogue asked the Professor.
"I'm not sure it's Mesmero who's behind this. To overcome my telepathic abilities, and Jean's...." he shook his head, "that takes more power than a simple circus magician."
Scott absently paced the room, a grimace on his face. "What were those rings?"
"A Tibetan artifact of some kind. There'll be plenty of time to figure out what happened- tomorrow. I confess," Xavier said with a small smile, "I am worn out." He wheeled out of the room.
"I can't believe this!" Rogue said in protest.
"We're all safe now. That's what matters," Scott sighed.
"What happens the next time Little Miss Perfect decides to take over the world?" she said, stomping off to her room.
Scott watched her go, knowing full well why Rogue was pissed. He sighed. She doesn't understand. Jeanmeans so much. No one will ever understand that. I know her. I know she's not what she pretends to be- this vapid, all pleasing, goody goody, ice queen that people accuse her of. I know the real her- the one who's caring, and generous, and risk-taking andperfect. He sighed again and went off to his own room, ready to spend another sleepless night, tossing in his bed.
The Next Day
Scott came downstairs late, having overslept his alarm. Evan was waiting impatiently in front of his van. "Scott- we're going to be late!"
"Where's Jean?" he asked, quickly running around to the driver's side.
"She is not coming," said Rogue plainly, passing him and getting in the passenger seat.
"Why not?" Worry evident in his voice, he fumbled as he tried to get his key into the ignition.
"Sick. We've got to hurry- I have a test first period!" Evan wailed.
"Calm down, would ya?" said Rogue over her shoulder. "Where the hell are Kitty and Kurt?" Before she finished, Kitty had walked through the van to her seat in the back as Kurt ported in. "We were just finishing breakfast, okay?" Kitty said defensively.
"Yeah, yeah, okay," Scott said abstractly, starting up the car. Is Jean alright? Suddenly he didn't regret not having breakfast- queasiness made him grimace as he pulled out of the drive and sped off to school.
Jean awoke much later in her own bed, under her own warm covers. The headache was still there, though not nearly as painful as the night before. Or what she assumed was the night before. She was still befuddled on the details of what happened, how she got from her last memory at a circus fairground where she was covered in mud to her bed, clean and dressed in her pajamas. Looking at the clock near her bed, she let out a shriek of alarm. Late! As she struggled out of bed, her limbs still a bit shaky, her mind racing, she tried to come up with an excuse for walking in hours late.
Jean. Calm down.
Professor?
It's okay that you stay home today. You needed your rest. She could feel him smile benevolently at her as she sighed in relief. When you're dressed and a bit more composed, come have a talk with me in my office
Yes, Professor.
Decidedly more calm but still suffering from a headache, Jean went to the Professor's office.
"Professor-" she began.
"You've had a rough weekend," he smiled knowingly. "You spent it almost entirely under the mind control of a magician named Mesmero."
"Mesmero?" she repeated incredulously.
"So we assume for now. He also hypnotized Kitty, Kurt and Spyke to do his evil will."
Her head began to throb more insistently. Nodding slightly, she asked quietly, "Did we hurt anyone?"
"Yes."
"Did- did anyonedie?" her voice quavered.
"No, Jean. You were unfortunately the ring leader in a series of burglaries."
She sat rigidly in the chair, staring off into space, her forehead screaming out in pain. Closing her eyes, she then whispered," SomehowI know."
"Yes. You have the rest of the day to recuperate. I suggest you make the most of it," he said, before dismissing her.
She slowly got up and left as if in a haze. The Professor watched her deliberate movements, knowing the ache in her mind and the guilt in her heart. He resolved to make sure that the repercussions of the weekend would not be too grievous.
And so Jean spent the afternoon walking. It was a beautiful day, the warm sunlight delicious compared to her memories of the previous night. And as she walked, past the school and following the road, she searched her memory to try and figure out what happened in the past 48 hours. Bits and pieces flooded back: smashing a glass case, a small velvet bag that held three foreign gold rings, telekinetically waving guards out of the way - hearing them connect with walls with dull thuds, hurting the Professorand Scott. She felt him in her mind and she wretched behind a bush as she recalled herself administering an efficient mind blast knocking him unconscious in the Institute hallway. How could she have done that to him? How could she have let herself be so controlled, so bent to do evil? Or was that in her nature? Just predisposed with malicious intentions, as to make her all the more susceptible to violence, to hurting those who she cared about. She saw herself fling him into the air with a pillar of mud, only to be saved by Rogue knocking her out. She saved him when I would have destroyed him. Best friends don't treat each other like that.
Suddenly she realized she had walked her way almost to school. Pained with guilt and her ever present migraine, she kept going, resolved to fix a few things.
Teren had approached him before he ever made it to his locker. "Hi Scott, how was your weekend?"
"Fine," he said noncommittedly, working the combination on his lock.
"Mine was such a drag! I went shopping and like, nothing was on sale. Ick. Anyway, didja ever find Jeannie?"
"Jean?" Suddenly he remembered his phone calls on Saturday. Damn. "Uh, yeah, she was just visiting an old friend or something."
"Oh. Say, where is she?" Teren asked twirling her hair. "I didn't see her come in with Duncan."
"She's, um, sick."
"Oh," she said, nodding her head sympathetically. Taking his free arm, she grinned up at him. "Guess I can walk you to class then."
She's milking this for all she can. Scott merely extracted his arm and walked ahead of her, deciding to go to class alone. He spent the day trying to fend off Teren. Meanwhile, Duncan hadn't even noticed that Jean wasn't there. He spent lunch as usual, talking about the great pass he threw at Friday night's game with a bunch of his fellow teammates. Scott merely smiled and nodded as Teren talked at him. She won't shut up. You're who knows how ill at home and she doesn't care. Your boyfriend doesn't acknowledge you're missing. Some friends you've got, Jean. God, I hope you're all right.
Jean sat on the wall outside the school's entranceway, idly swinging her feet. She bent her head down and was musing on her guilty conscience when Rogue walked out the doors.
She stopped in her tracks. "Jean."
"Hi," she said, looking up.
She's probably gonna give me the third degree for skipping out on my math class. Whatever. A best defense is a good offense, or some crap like that. "What are you doing here?"
"I don't know," she chuckled. "I just sort of started walking and wound up here."
Rogue eyed her warily. If she's doing it again
Jean chuckled some more. "I'm fine. Just needed to think some things through. Rogue, I want to thank you for knocking me out last night."
"Wha?"
"You saved him."
Rogue nodded, now lowering her eyes.
"And I'm sorry if I hurt you."
"No, no, I mean, I was fine. But what you did- what happened to Scott-" Rogue broke off, not sure of how to phrase what she wanted to say. "It wasn't you, Jean. It was Mesmero or whoever. I just did what I had to do, so don't get all mushy or anything on me. I don't want to bond with you here- it'll ruin my reputation."
Jean smiled. "Then I guess no one needs to know that you'regetting an early dismissal?"
Something weird is going on with Jean. Nice? Huh?
I can be nice, you know. Better hurry. Might not last that long.
Shaking her head and feeling an unwilling smile creep onto her face, Rogue started to leave. "C-ya later." Before she made it a few steps, she sighed guiltily and turned back. Dammit, dammit, dammit. I can't win, can I? "Jean, look. I don't know how much you remember of what happened"
"Bits and pieces, really," she replied, rubbing her forehead.
"But he, he was there for you, you know?" she said, trying to get the words to come out right. "Whatever. Tell them I split, k?"
Jean couldn't look her in the eye, but nodded slightly that she understood. She sat silently on the brick wall, her back becoming rigid as a board as a chill ran down her spine. He was there for me. And if it weren't for Rogue, he'd be dead. A tear ran down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away, hearing the last bell ring. The first one she saw was Evan.
"Hey, Jean- thought you were sick?"
"Yeah- tell Scott that Rogue is getting her own way home, okay?" she said, rising and beginning to leave in the opposite direction.
"Wait a minute, aren't you coming along?" he asked.
"No, no. I'll be fine," she said not looking back.
"I'm sorry, Teren, I really have to go. I have to drive the kids back" Scott tried to pry her off his arm and could of sworn he heard a voice say "try a crowbar" that sounded suspiciously like Jean.
"So responsible," she giggled. "At least walk me to Duncan's car. Pleeeease?" she purred.
"Fine. Where is it?"
"In the other lot," she said, squeezing his upper arm.
"Right." The sooner I get rid of her, the sooner I can check up on Jean.
Scott and Teren made their way to Duncan's car but Duncan himself was nowhere to be found.
"Where is he?" Scott asked impatiently.
Teren shrugged suggestively.
Biting back swear words, Scott scanned the parking lot. By one of the back entrances, he saw him talking to Jean? What the hell? Dragging Teren, he walked briskly over to them. Apparently they were arguing.
"But you see, the pass was executed"
"Duncan, I was there remember? This is not what I wanted to talk about-"
"Oh, come on, baby, it was the play of a lifetime-"
"Can't you ever listen? I can't-"
"Nobody else could have thrown a pass like that-"
"AAUGH!" she turned away in fury only to run into Scott.
"Jean, you're sick, you should be at home," he said solicitously, pushing Teren off his arm.
"Scott I-" And then the flash hit. She could feel his pain as the dark force that had taken over her mind slammed him into oblivion. She saw him in her mind's eye sink to the carpet, saw him try to talk to someone he trusted and instead be stung by the enemy. She saw herself raising an arm to fling him and Logan backwards and then beheld them crash to the ground. Her stomach upheaved, her gag reflex kicked in. Covering her face with her hands, she stumbled away from him, away from his grasp, sick with herself. She didn't get far before he caught up with her, though.
"Jean-"
"Get away from me."
"Come on, Jean. Let me take you home," Scott's voice reassured her, his hand light on her back, leading her towards their van.
"I said, get away!" she said, pushing him from her, putting distance between them. You can't trust me. You'll just get hurt.
Scott watched her as she ran away from him, away from Duncan and Teren, confusion and hurt writ plainly on his face. What is wrong with her? Why is she doing this? I only wanted to help.
Jean went back to school the next day but she was still anything but recovered. Her headache persisted, she barely had touched her food and hadn't slept a wink. She avoided Scott as much as possible. By the middle of the week, still running on very little food and no sleep, the Professor decided it was time for evasive action. He called Jean into his office for a conference.
"Jean, I insist that you explain the reasons for your actions of this past week."
"I-I don't understand the robberies?"
"Why haven't you slept? You didn't even look at your food at dinner."
Jean just shut her eyes and rubbed her temples.
"I can still feel him," she whispered, her eyes still squeezed tightly shut. "In my mind this darkness."
"You've been seeing what happened?"
"Yes," she answered softly.
"Hmmm, well, I should have expected it. The others' minds aren't as developed as yours- do you still have a migraine?"
"Yes."
"Jean, open your eyes, look at me," he said gently. She complied. "Not even my mind was powerful enough to resist him- you cannot blame yourself. This persistent headache of yours is a result of your struggles against that dark will. And it will pass," he said with a smile.
"What's a headache compared to what I have done? Those guards, those people were innocent, just doing their jobsYou! I hurt you even! And" she didn't finish, but the Professor saw clearly what she was thinking.
Scott. Ah. Now the rest of the problem reveals itself.
"Do try and get some sleep Jean. Good night."
Nodding, she left the room.
Scott. Come see me please.
Scott had no idea why the Professor wanted to see him but he was determined to bring up Jean's behavior. She won't talk to me, won't even look at me! Something is definitely going on.
"Good evening, Scott," Xavier greeted him as he came into his office. "As I'm sure you're well aware, Jean has not been herself this week."
"That's an understatement," he replied wryly.
"I think that you should talk to her."
Me? "Why me?"
"Because she trusts you. You are the closest friend she has," said Xavier, ignoring the slight frown that crossed his face as he said friend.
"Not lately. She won't stay in the same room with me for more than two minutes, much less carry on a conversation-"
"Scott, Jean is holding herself accountable to the injuries that she inflicted upon you in the last few days. The only way for her to get past that is for the both of you to talk it out."
Shefeels guilty? "I'll try," he said with a shrug before leaving the room.
Always such a soap opera with those two the Professor smiled to himself.
Scott was not having much luck in trying to find Jean. He checked her room and the other girls' rooms but she wasn't there. After checking everywhere from the Danger Room to the kitchen, he was beginning to get worried. Pacing the length of the common room, he debated whether or not he should call Duncan. Instead he decided to bang his head solemnly against the glass window. In mid-thud, he saw her- outside in the garden. Rubbing his forehead, he ran out of the room.
Jean was silently crying, watching the moonlight as it rippled on the reflecting pool. She was sitting on the stone bench near it, her upper legs slowly becoming numb with cold. She knew it was late but what was the point of going inside? To toss and turn in her warm bed, determined not to let her guard down, to make sure the darkness couldn't creep in again.
When she felt his presence behind her, she became rigid. Oh, God, not now. Such a mess
He didn't say anything, just sat down next to her on the bench and looked out at the water, trying desperately not to look at her just yet. He could tell she was crying and probably cold. He stifled the impulse to take her in his arms by sitting on his hands.
Licking her lips, she spoke first. "What do you want, Scott?"
"I want you to talk to me," he said, turning and looking at her square in the eye.
"You haven't been yourself lately-"
"No shit."
"Goddamn it, Jean! You have said barely a word to me all week!"
"Maybe it's your way with people," she retorted, regretting her words as soon as they passed her lips.
He recoiled as if he had been stung. Staring straight ahead once more, he continued in a slightly hoarse voice, "Fine. You don't want to talk with me? Fine. But talk to someone. Rogue. The Professor. Duncan," he ended bitterly. He rose to leave.
"Scott- wait." She turned slightly, addressing his back. "I'm sorry. I am so-" she choked on her tears, fighting back the bile in her throat, "sorry." She put her face in her hands and sobbed loudly now, holding nothing back.
He reclaimed his seat next to her and clumsily patted her back as she wept. "It's all right," he said softly, wanting nothing more than to hold her in his arms and never let go, to smooth her tangled hair, and to kiss away the salty tears streaming down her pale face.
She leaned into him, crying into his shoulder. "I can't seem to do anything right."
"Rogue will be surprised to hear that," he said trying to cheer her up.
She only cried harder.
Oh hell.
"Look. I know that you feel guilty about this weekend and all. No one blames you for anything."
"P-p-precisely the p-point. I get away with it. Little M-miss Per-perfect."
"It wasn't you, Jean. It could never have been you."
Sitting back and furiously wiping her eyes, she cleared her throat. "Scott- you're not allowed to tell anyone about this, got it?"
"Won't say a word."
"Good." She waited a moment and then laughed bitterly. "Can you keep a secret?"
He nodded, twisting his fingers in front of his lips.
"I'm scared of clowns. It's silly, really goofy thing to be afraid of- after saving the world every other week- but they- they terrify me."
"Too much makeup?"
"Or something. I don't know why- but that's how it started. Nightmares after the carnival. So many clowns and then him" she shivered, recalling the dark presence.
Scott wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "Come on, let's go inside."
She rose from her seat and felt Scott suddenly retract back inside his shell, taking his arm away and becoming self conscious again. She took his hand and held on tightly the entire way into the house and into the kitchen.
"I'm going to make some tea. Want some?" asked Jean after relinquishing his hand and moving to the stove.
"Nah- I'm just going to go upstairs and-"
"Please stay," she said quietly. Turning around with the metal teapot in her hands, she continued in the same soft voice," I know you have, like, a million reasons to leave and not a single good one to convince you to stay butplease?"
I know a damn good reason. Scott just smiled and sat down at the kitchen table. "I won't let the clowns get ya."
"Har har har. You don't hear me mocking your weaknesses, Summers."
The evening wore on. They sat and talked and Scott even tried some of the tea she had made. They talked about everything under the sun and were more open than they had ever been with each other. They talked about what they planned on doing after college, the big things they had planned, and the little things- like movies and teachers and gossip about the other students.
But not about clowns, dark forces or Duncan.
Sometime around 2:30, Jean yawned.
"You know we should go to bed," Scott said wearily.
"Can't," Jean replied, resting her chin on her hands.
"Huh? We do have school tomorrow and all-"
"Can't sleep. Not since"
"You haven't slept since?" She's running herself into the ground!
"Nooooope" she replied mid yawn.
"You can't just not sleep, Jean."
"Can't sleep. He comes can't let him in mess with my mind againcan't go to sleep," she mumbled into her palm.
"Jean!"
"I hurt you!" she burst out, tears suddenly glistening in her eyes. "He did that- made me do that. Because I wasn't careful, because he was allowed to get in here," she gestured to her forehead. "And I will not let that happen again," she said in her most determined voice.
"The Professor couldn't even fight off the power of whatever that thing was! You must have tried your best to fend him off or you still wouldn't be having headaches all the time! No one can ask anymore of you than that."
"But my best isn't good enough," she sighed, looking intently at the tabletop.
"It will be more than good enough. Come on," he said rising and extending his hand to her.
"Where are we going?"
"Do you trust me?"
"Yeeees"
"Then come on."
He led her into the common room and then proceeded to sit on the couch.
"What are you doing?" she asked skeptically.
"Lie down."
She raised an eyebrow. "I don't know what you're planning Summers"she began in a threatening voice.
With an amused sigh, he patted the cushions next to him. She complied, not taking her eyes off him.
"Now lie down."
"Where?"
"Use my lap as a pillow."
"Use your lap as a pillow?"
"Umyeah."
And amazingly enough, she did so, curling herself up and covering his legs with her fiery hair.
"So now what?" she asked looking up at him.
"You sleep," he replied, softly rubbing her temples.
"Oooh- Summers, stop distracting me- I can't go to sleepdamn that feels good," she sighed closing her eyes.
"I promise I'll blast you if you get nasty."
"Mmmm" Jean murmured, as she slowly began to fall asleep.
Scott stroked her hair and watched as she finally allowed herself to rest. He loved her- loved her more deeply than even he had known before tonight. He kissed the top of her forehead and leaned his head back, overwhelmed with the smell and proximity of her. It wasn't going to be easy- nothing worth it ever was. But one day they'd be just fine. And really mean it too.
FIN
So how godawful was it? Sappy? Yes. Noncanonical? Probably. Disgustingly predictable? Whatever. If you review I will be infinitely happy- even if it is to tell me never to do this again (well, maybe not infinitely happy about that one, but still, good to know)