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Chapter Three

Bobby slept on Marie's couch again the next night. Marie was becoming a sort of best friend to him, and she saw that he still felt much love for her, but only as his friend, and nothing more. But he did hope to continue spending time with her. He woke up in the early morning, as there was a loud thunderstorm going on. He stood, tossing the blanket on the couch and glanced over at Marie. She was sound asleep. He walked out of the room and down the hallway. Two flights of stairs later he was walking through the kitchen door.

The room was dark. He flipped a switch, and found the power not working. He shrugged and opened the fridge to grab some milk before it went sour, even though he assumed Storm would have everything working by morning. Hell, it was morning, but it was only four in the morning, and Storm usually slept until five. He poured himself some milk and looked in the cabinet for some cookies. He heard a cough from somewhere in the room and looked over towards the seating area, clutching his stomach defensively.

Bobby whispered, "Hello?" There was no reply. Bobby set the cookies and glass of milk down and quietly took a step past the counter towards the table, "Anyone there?" He clenched his fists, studying the room for any movement. He reached the table and lit the candle sitting in the center with a match. The light showed a figure sitting across from him. His hair was short, his chin scruffy and a visor covered his eyes. Professor Scott.

"Hi, Scott," Bobby said, "You alright?" The older man didn't speak. Bobby couldn't tell if Scott was looking at him through the visor, and he idly played with a loose string on his shirt. Bobby stood awkwardly there for another moment and then turned to go, but Scott shifted.

"Don't go."

Bobby paused and looked quietly at Scott, sitting down across from him and placing his elbows on the table, biting his lip, "Is everything okay, Scott?"

Scott murmured, barley speaking, "She died today."

Bobby knew he was talking about Jean Grey, his former fiancé. Slowly through the past year, everyone seemed to move forward, and eventually Scott did, too. Slowly but surely. And everyone started to forget about Jean and her loss. But Scott and Logan both remembered her, Logan more so, since he was the one who killed her and lost her for the both of them, forever. For a while, neither came out of their room. But they did and Scott began teaching the students. Bobby spoke gently, "I'm sorry, Scott. I miss her too. We all do, really."

Scott nodded, "She always spoke about her death, before it happened the first time, like she knew it was going to happen. I just didn't want to listen. When she came back, I had found her, and also, a part of me came back that had been missing. But then she almost killed me, and left, again, for Logan. And he was the one who chose her fate. It was out of my hands. I couldn't save her." He closed his eyes, as a single tear slid down his cheek, glistening in the moon light sneaking in through the window.

Bobby replied, "Scott, it's not your fault. She loved you, and she wouldn't have wanted you to be in pain. She may have left for Logan, but she still loved you, I know it. But you deserved better, I've always thought it. I've always sort of admired you for being in control and knowing how to survive. Don't let her take that from you."

"You admired me?" Scott said, slightly surprised and slightly in disbelief.

"Yeah. I still do. But you can't let this hurt you, not after how far you've come over the past year," Bobby said softly, reaching on instinct across the table and placing his hand on Scott's hand. Scott stiffened, but did not remove his hand. Bobby realized what he'd done and pulled back his hand.

Scott started laughing, and Bobby stared on in deep uncertainty. Scott smiled solemnly, "That's the first time anyone's been brave enough to touch me over the past while. It just made me laugh, that's all."

Bobby blushed, "Don't apologize." He was feeling more and more comfortable around Scott, and he grinned loosely, relaxing in his chair.

"You seem pretty wise for your age, what are you, eighteen?" Scott asked, with a little more color in his face.

"I'm going to have to be wise. I'm pregnant. And yes, eighteen." And there it was. Out in the open. Bobby waited for Scott to say something. In that instant, Bobby knew Scott was starring straight at him. Bobby looked back in response.

"Pregnant. Wow," Scott said finally, "Who is the father?"

"John," Bobby said, mildly bitter. "But he isn't in my life anymore. He didn't want to be. I was torn up about it yesterday, but, you gotta move on, right?"

"Yeah," Scott nodded, "You gotta move on." In the last five minutes, it looked like Scott Summers had completely changed. He was smiling! Nobody had seen him smile in quite a long time. "So, a baby, wow, that's a lot to handle. Do you need, help, or anything?"

Bobby chuckled, "Telling Storm might be difficult, but I'm actually looking forward to a baby, because for the first time in my life, I'll have someone to depend on, to get me through the hard times. I've always liked kids."

"I wish I had somebody like that," Scott admitted.

"Professor, I know I'm only a teenager, but if you ever want to talk, you can come to my room. Maybe I can help you get through your hard times, as a friend." Bobby didn't particularly want to be just friends with Scott, but he wasn't going to say that.

"Thanks for the offer," Scott nodded, "Maybe sometime I'll take you up on it. But I'm actually going to go to bed, now. I'm rather tired. Being depressed can be exhausting."

"Alright," Bobby said, "Goodnight then." Scott left silently and Bobby remained in his chair. Eventually, he stood and went back to Marie's room. She was awake, waiting for him it seemed.

"Everything okay, Bobby?" she asked.

Bobby smiled, "Yes. Everything is just fine."

And then he bid her goodnight and returned to his own room. And when he laid in bed, clutching his stomach gently, he knew no matter what John or anyone else did, he wasn't alone anymore. And he wasn't afraid anymore, either.

Because you gotta move on, and now he was ready too.