Control
By: XMENobsession
AN: All right, we're moving right along with this story. I think the chapters are on the short side, but my updates aren't too infrequent, so it's not so bad, right? Don't forget to REVIEW!
Oh! And I've been thinking about the ending… There are two possible ways I could do it, but I just can't decide. I'd love to ask your opinions, but then I might be giving the ending away and I don't want to do that soo… Just pick a number: 1 or 2. It's silly, I know, but I suck at decision making. Thanks! Now… ON TO THE STORY!
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing! Not the people, not the places, and definitely not the paper!
Chapter 3
"Jean, you have to stop this!"
The words echoed in her head as she sat in The Professor's study, her face covered in dried tears and snot. Though she and Xavier had been the only witnesses of the dream, Ororo, Logan, and, of course, Scott were also there that morning: only the older, mature X-Men. This was a sensitive and frightening issue; The Professor didn't feel that the younger students would be able to handle it just yet.
Xavier sat in the center of the room, one of the calmest of the group, second only to Logan who rested on a wall, watching from under his cowboy hat. Ororo was next to Jean, comforting her with a mug of her homemade coffee blend, and Scott sat on their opposite couch, staring intently at the girl he had watched from afar for so long as she fell apart.
"How long have you been having these dreams, Jean?" Ororo asked as she brushed the girl's fiery red hair out of her face.
"I don't know," Jean replied, her voice full of emotion. "I think the first one was a couple months ago. As time passed they seemed to get longer and more frequent."
"Jean," The Professor said coolly. "I'd like to attempt to take a look inside your mind again." Jean nodded, Ororo moved to the other couch with Scott, and The Professor placed his hands on the sides of the young telekinetic's head, not making any physical contact. "Try to concentrate on your dream."
The telepaths both closed their eyes and the room was completely silent. Scott tried not to think too much, so as not to distract them, but the more he watched the more worried he became. They both appeared to be in pain. He started to get frustrated that he was stuck in the physical world while The Professor risked so much to help Jean. He wanted desperately to be able to help as well and suddenly felt so useless.
Meanwhile, inside Jean Grey's turbulent mind, The Professor stood in front of a stone wall that reached upward to the endless sky. "Jean!" he yelled to the wall, but the girl did not answer, so he yelled again, "Jean, it's Charles Xavier! You need to let me through! I'm here to help!"
"I don't need your help." Xavier turned to find the troubled redhead standing next to him, but something was off.
"You need to let me in, Jean. Something is terribly wrong, but I can help you. It will all be okay if you just let me help you," he spoke slowly and calmly to not upset her, she seemed on the brink of some break down, but his composure proved to be of little use.
"I don't need your help!" she screamed and flung him against the theoretical wall. She pinned him there and, though he struggled profusely, she was too powerful for him.
The non-psychics watched the scene closely, not realizing the mental battle that was occurring between Jean and Xavier. A single bead of sweat slid down The Professor's head and the bystanders became concerned. Then, in one swift motion that shocked everyone in the room, Jean stood, an air of confidence and power surrounding her, and The Professor flew backwards out of his chair, hit the wall behind him, and fell to the floor with a thud.
As quickly as Jean's power appeared, it vanished. She fainted, landing safely on the couch, and in an instant Scott was by her side. Unconscious she seemed angelic. Whatever it was that they had just seen wasn't Jean.
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"He should be okay. He just needs some rest," Ororo commented to Logan as they stood over The Professor's body in the infirmary. "Of course, without Jean or another telepath there's no way for us to be sure that there's no mental damage." She bit her lip in concern. "But physically he's just fine." She closed her eyes and prayed that Jean had left his powerful mind intact. Though she didn't seem like the type to ruin someone so wholly, she also didn't seem like the type who would toss their mentor across a room.
Logan simply grunted in response, but his gaze never left Charles Xavier. Though he was not a religious man, he performed his own sort of prayer; he calmly placed his rough hand on Xavier's still arm and told him gruffly to "perk up."
Scott entered the infirmary and spoke very practically. "I told the others what happened. They were… shocked to say the least. They wanted to see The Professor, but I told them to wait for your okay."
"Thank you, Scott," Ororo said. "I know you didn't want to be the one to break the news, but it shows great leadership qualities that you did."
Scott thanked his teammate politely, but he was in no mood for compliments. He saw The Professor resting peacefully and worried about what damage lay on that brilliant psyche, as Ororo did, but he had more pressing thoughts on his mind. He excused himself from the dreary group and walked down the well-lit hallway to another infirmary, this one much smaller. Unlike the one Xavier slept in, this had at least ten beds lined in rows along the walls, and in one of those beds lay Jean Grey.
Scott sat in the uncomfortable metal chair next to her bed and stared. He thought about the first time he ever saw Jean; he thought he was dreaming. She was young and innocent and… absolutely perfect. He couldn't explain what had happened that morning, but he knew there was a reason for it. Jean was still that innocent perfect girl he met years ago. How could that have changed?
He didn't know how long he sat there and watched her, but after a while her eyes began to flutter open and rested on his thoughtful face.
"Scott…" she said as if she knew him, but couldn't remember how. Then her face lit in recognition. "Scott." She attempted to sit up, but quickly fell back onto her soft pillows. "My head…"
"You need to rest," he said, brushing her hair out of her beautiful face soothingly. "I'll get you a glass of water."
He stood to leave, but Jean quickly grabbed his hand to stop him. "Don't leave," she said, on the borderline of begging. "I'm fine, honestly."
Scott sat down, but neither released their grip on the other's hand. "Did you… Did you have the dream again?" he asked, hesitantly.
Jean turned her head toward the ceiling and answered quietly, "No, I don't think I did." She smiled at her friend.
At this Scott cheered up tremendously. "Maybe The Professor did the job, and whatever was in your head is gone now." He looked so hopeful and so happy that Jean just didn't have it in her to tell him the truth: that she could still feel it inside her head, pacing and waiting. Every day she fought to keep it out of her mind, but every night she had the dream she knew she had lost a little of her control over it, and that morning she had lost so much more. She looked at her hands and delicately felt her face; she was Jean, but earlier, while she coldly attacked The Professor, who was she then?