Chapter 1

Xavier's School for the Gifted was under the cover of night, the early hours of the morning meant silence covered the normally bustling building. Generally, the mansion had been in a lighter mood as of late, due to Jean's surprising survival at Alkali Lake. But there was a subtle difference to her. No one mentioned it. But Scott noticed the change, and he was sure everyone else did too. She was fierier, more demanding. It was like somehow her personality had been tweaked during her time lost under the water of the dam. But Scott fought to ignore it. He would adapt to it. It might not be the Jean he fell in love with, but it was still Jean and he would allow it.

Scott's eyes gradually peeled open behind his glasses as he lay in the double bed he shared with Jean. However, as his hand absently stretched out through the blackness to embrace her, he found her usual space bare and cold. He sighed quietly, pulling his hand back. She had been doing that a lot lately, getting up in the middle of the night. She had nightmares, and would always leave the room to calm herself down. Sometimes, if Scott went to look for her, he would find her sat alone in the kitchen, upset. It was times like that when the old Jean was back and the fiery glint in her eyes was lost to their usual tender depth.

He wondered if she was doing the same tonight. He sighed as he pushed himself out of bed, issuing a small stretch as he straightened. Ignoring the fact he had a class to prepare in a few hours time, he threw his shirt over his bare torso, unbuttoned, just to give him some coverage instead of traipsing around the mansion in his boxers. Not that he expected any others to be around, but he felt he had an image to uphold. That and he couldn't bear the idea of what would happen if the likes of Jubilee or Rogue caught him half naked. The other end of the spectrum was also unwelcome. Being met in a dark corridor by Wolverine wasn't appealing, who had recently taken to referring to Scott as 'jailbait' whenever he was in earshot.

As he descended down onto the ground floor, he noticed a few lights on in the recreation room. He had caught students downstairs in the early hours of the morning before. They often slipped in to play console games or gather round for a film. He moved forward quietly, preferring to catch students in the act rather than after they had hurriedly signalled red alert and shut off every electrical appliance to then hide. But as he crept closer to the archway, he heard soft sounds emitting from the room, sounds he sincerely hoped wouldn't be from students.

A frown quickly marked his face as he continued forward, losing all manner of a silent entrance. But the sounds in the recreation room hadn't ceased, and amongst the varying gasps he distinctly heard the soft moan of 'Logan'. A voice he knew all too well. Jean. His feet kept walking, closer to the archway that led in from the hall. He didn't stop himself from completing the distance, believing that he had to force himself to witness it, to fully prove it. To tell himself.

His head turned as he entered the gap of the archway, eyes roaming the dimly lit room till he found the source of the noise. He went unnoticed as he stood in the centre of the archway, staring as he watched Jean, his Jean completely naked, on top of an equally bare Logan.

And that was it. A five second look before he span on his heel and left, without saying a word. No shouting, no bellowing of rage.

He walked speedily, his hands clenched by his sides. His jaw was set as his teeth grit in his mouth. He walked faster and turned into the first door he became aware of. Pushing inside swiftly, he closed it behind him. Burning eyes recognised it as the ground floor kitchen. His controlled emotions were beginning to take over him and he could feel his tightly held fists shaking. Without quite realising what he was doing he grabbed the fruit bowl that sat neatly in the centre of the blue-tiled island and with a cry threw it aside. The porcelain dish crashed loudly against the wall, fruit flying in all directions. He gave a soft gasp in his throat at his outburst before he staggered backwards, meeting the door of the silver fridge. His legs suddenly feeling weak, he slumped downwards with his knees bent, reaching the cool floor of the kitchen. His head bowed forward into his palms, his trembling fingers gripping at his untidy brown hair.

It was too late to convince himself otherwise, to hide it beneath thin lies. His brain had forced him to go and see so he would be aware of the act. But now he felt like it was breaking him inside. His eyes strained to cry, burning from the held tears. But they couldn't slip forth, but his mutation took care of that. He could only gasp into his hands, his head shaking as he moaned incoherently. He sat like that for a long while, his noises eventually silencing and he sat there without moving.

When the horizon was displaying early morning rays, he heard footsteps coming towards the kitchen. It didn't occur to him to get up, he remain the same; elbows on his bent knees, hands gripping his forehead and hair. The door handle was pressed downwards and the squeak of the hinge signalled the arrival of Rogue. A lone orange was bumped forward as the base of the wooden door hit it, and it rolled pitifully forward across the laminated flooring.

Rogue glanced down at the item she had hit, eyes trailing the disarray of white shards that had once made up the fruit bowl. Finally, her eyes completed their travel to find Scott sat on the floor, and he still hadn't looked her way. Very softly, she closed the door behind her, then picking her way through the debris to come by his side.

"Mistah Summers?" she whispered softly as she crouched down to his height, her accent seeming to be more prominent as her words came out a little sleepily. When he made no response Rogue bowed her head slowly, glancing around the room. After a short pause she tried again, tucking a white streak behind an ear, "Is everythin' alright?" In truth, she was rather shocked to find the X-Men leader in such a state, particularly with the signs of a snapped rage judging by the smashed fruit bowl.

With a great heave of breath Scott spoke, "No.. no, Rogue."

Rogue looked a little stricken with his response. His tone was low and desolate, heavy with despair. "Do you want me to go and get Jean?" she asked softly, automatically guessing that Jean would be the best person for this job.

"No," Scott had said suddenly, his head flying upwards out of his hands and turning to face Rogue.

It was then when Rogue noticed that the despondency seemed to have crept into his face, making him age years overnight. "It's all right, I won't, I promise," Rogue insisted, staring at him with increasing concern. "It's just that.. she might wonder where you are. Might be worried 'bout you."

"She won't," muttered Scott, a hollow laugh sounding.

Rogue's brow constricted at this. Tilting her head gently, she pressed very cautiously onwards. "What's happened, Mistah Summers?"

Scott regarded Rogue with tired eyes, realising with an awkward jolt that age-wise he was closer to Rogue than Jean, yet she called him 'mister.' He swallowed slowly, noticing how dry his throat was. And then, Scott proceeded to tell her, implications of the fact she was his student not seeming to bother him. His awareness of their closer age seemed to spur him on. "I found Jean," he explained slowly, "with Logan," he didn't add anything else, it seemed to be enough.

Rightly so, for Rogue's frown fled upward in surprise, her soft lips parting in apparent disbelief. "With? How much.. with.."

"Put it this way, they were both naked."

He didn't quite think Rogue's eyebrows could climb any higher. Then he suddenly realised how wrong it had been to tell her. She was nineteen years old, his student, and he had just spilled the worst relationship moment of his life to her. However, her reply surprised him. "Ah know how it feels, Scott," she murmured quietly. "Bobby. Not that I caught him naked with anyone.. but I saw him kissin' Kitty Pryde last night. Not on the scale of yours.. but.. it hurts the same. Especially cos I know he can't do that to me."

"He doesn't deserve you, Rogue," Scott answered softly. A man should have the decency to discuss his issues if a relationship is going wrong, not go behind the woman's back.

Rogue watched him gently for a moment before she simply replied. "Jean don't deserve you, neither, Mistah Summers."

Scott glanced away slowly with a sigh, "She's probably not in her right mind, you've seen how different she is lately."

"She's still got a brain and a tongue, Scott. She still knows you're her fiancé. It's spelt out pretty clear."

Scott nodded his head very slowly. His throat felt dry again. He pushed to his feet weakly, raking hair back from his forehead. "I'm going to have a shower," he said softly. Try to wash away the vision he had forced himself to witness.

"Well don't you be goin' near your room whilst Jean is there," said Rogue sternly as she took Scott's arm with her gloved one. "You need to sort yourself out before you confront her. You can use my shower."

"But Jubilee – !"

" - Won't be waking up for another hour," interrupted Rogue with a wry grin. "She's got your English class first and as far as I recall she got no plans to attend it. C'mon," and she promptly dragged him out of kitchen into the dimly lit corridor. The sun was slowly rising from the orange horizon and was letting crisp rays float in through the tall windows of the corridor.

Scott took in the absurdity of the situation as he was pulled along. In the space of a few hours he had lost Jean to Logan, talked about his love life to a student, and was now going to use the same shower three of the most gossipy girls in the school did.

Yet somehow, he was sure it wasn't a dream of an alternate reality. Unfortunately.

You're probably thinking, "What! Another new story!" But I've had this idea for a while, and it's been writer's block mayhem over here with my other stories, and since this first chapter was so ready in my mind, I decided to do it! Please review, I welcome the feedback!