Control

By: XMENobsession

AN: YaY for Chapter 2! Hope you enjoy it! Please remember to REVIEW! I love feedback!

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing! Not the people, not the places, and definitely not the paper!

Chapter 2

"Jean, you have to stop this!"

"I can't!" an exasperated Jean Grey frantically yelled back, though she could barely hear herself over the noise of the battlefield. Fires blazed, buildings crumbled, and friends fell all around her.

"Jean…!" Scott cried. His voice seemed to be moving farther and farther away from her. She tried to use her telekinesis to pull him back, she tried to use her telepathy to find him, she tried to do anything she could, but she could do nothing. It was as if she had no power left. She fell to her knees and began to cry. The smoke around her grew denser until she could see nothing but its sickly off-white color.

Jean woke up in a cold sweat. She pulled the blankets up to her chin and stared out the window. The dark sky was beginning to lighten and once again she realized that she had risen before the sun.

It was Saturday and the students woke on their own time, so there was no prepared breakfast. In the dining room Jean found Ororo and Logan eating quietly. While Logan searched a newspaper for upcoming trouble, Ororo studied her latest issue of 'Gardening Weekly'. The Professor had already eaten and was doing whatever it is intelligent men do in their spare time.

The kitchen smelled of coffee, but Jean remained impassive. As the dreams got worse it became more difficult for her to recover from the upsetting disquiet they left her with. She took a pop-tart from the cupboard and walked onto the back patio where she sat and watched the sky. By now the sun was halfway over the horizon. She munched on the unbaked toaster pastry, alone with the memory of her haunting dream.

They say dreams are how the subconscious works out problems, but Jean couldn't think of any pressing ones, other than the usual super villain trying to take over the world. Maybe her telepathy was causing her to see the dreams of someone else. This thought made her hopeful, but it was a false hope. She knew that it was her own dream she was seeing; it felt too personal to be anyone else's. The truth was she had no idea why she was having these dreams. She could only hope that it was not as some believed dreams were: a window into the future.

"Jean!" She turned around to find Scott smiling down at her with a protein drink in his hand. "What are you doing up this early?" he asked as he pulled a lawn chair up next to her and took a seat.

"I could ask you the same thing."

"On weekends I like to do a pre-breakfast training session."

Jean laughed. "You amaze me, Scott Summers," she said, smiling. Why was it that he always made her smile? And why was he, specifically, in trouble in her dream? She frowned slightly.

"So, you had the dream again?" he asked, noticing the minor change in expression.

Jean was shocked. "I'm sorry; I thought I was the telepath."

"I'm not as stupid as I look," Scott replied. "You're up crazy early, you asked me about recurring dreams the other day… What am I supposed to think?" Jean didn't reply, and Scott began to feel uncomfortable. "Or maybe I am as stupid as I look."

Jean sighed. "No, it's just… Why don't you tell me about your dream first?" Scott hesitated and she added, "Please?"

He sat on the edge of the chair, his elbows resting on his knees, and stared at the floor. His eyes closed and he started. "It's a nice day. I'm about seven and in a plane with my brother, Alex, and… my parents."

Jean's mouth opened slightly and her eyebrows raised; she had never heard Scott talk about his parents.

"We're all happy until… something hits our plane; I don't know what, but we start falling out of the sky. There's only one parachute and my mother puts it on me, puts Alex in my arms, and tells me not to let go, no matter what. Then she pushes us out of the plane. I try to pull the cord, but it's confusing and, before I can figure it out, something hits me and there's a sharp pain in the back of my head. Everything turns black and… I wake up."

Jean put her hand on his strong arm. For a moment he was so absorbed in his own recollections that he didn't even blush, but only for a moment. He turned to her and said, "I haven't had it in a while, but every time I do… It's just not the most pleasant dream I've ever had. Actually, I don't think it's even a dream; more like a repressed memory."

Jean nodded and squeezed his arm. "I know it must be hard to talk about." She stared at him. He had opened up to her more than ever before and yet he recovered so quickly from bearing his soul. In an instant he returned to the stiff, quiet leader he always was. It was only a glimpse into his mind, but that was enough for Jean. She leaned in and rested her head on his bicep. She could feel his muscles tighten at her touch. Her happiness had returned and she wanted to avoid losing it at all costs. "I'm hungry,
she said bluntly. "Let's go get some breakfast."

Scott thought for a moment and then nodded, and the two of them stood and walked toward the kitchen. As they went, Jean reached out and grabbed Scott's hand. He blushed, yet again, and decided not to ask about her dream. She hadn't pushed him, and he wouldn't push her.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Like Jean's nightmares, The Professor's headaches continued to get worse. Sometimes the dull pain was too distracting for him to even concentrate on his own thoughts. He tried multiple times to find the phantom that was causing him such grief with Cerebro, but to no avail. It eluded him in the most aggravating way; allowing him to creep up close enough to almost touch, and then vanishing. Whatever this thing was it enjoyed playing with The Professor, but he worried what it was capable of when it was tired of playing.

A few days after Jean's conversation with Scott, The Professor attempted another search on Cerebro. It was early, and while most of the mansion slept he quietly leafed through their dreams as easily as you would a book, sensing the elusive being nearby. He found something disturbing.

"Jean, you have to stop this!"

He saw one of his most promising pupils on her knees, crying, helpless. He wanted to go to her, but something distracted him; a figure cloaked behind the ever-growing smoke. He wondered who, or what, it was, but before he could find out the creature was gone. He was, once again, alone in Cerebro. He tried to enter Jean's subconscious with and without Cerebro, but her mind was impenetrable, and he couldn't tell if it was the being's doing or Jean's.

He raced to Jean's room as fast as he could and found her awake, head in her hands.

"Professor!" she cried when he entered. "Please help me!"

He went to her side and she fell onto his lap and burst into tears. Her breathing was heavy and her body was clammy. Nonetheless, he rubbed her back soothingly and said softly, "It will be okay, child; everything will be okay. I promise you."