Chapter Seven

JEAN

I had to return home before Scott was released from the hospital. My outburst had created an instant awkwardness between us. He hardly ever spoke in my presence, though I tried hard to make amends by talking to him. Scott rarely projected thoughts, but the single thought both the Professor and I heard more than once was a deep-set mistrust. He did say good-bye to me in the friendliest voice I had heard from him yet. (Which still made Logan's gruffness seem outgoing)

It was over two weeks from the time Scott was rescued out of the basement before he was released after finally passing the hospital's battery of tests. Logan came home with Hank and they requested my help to set up Scott's room. I was in my element in preparing a nice, south facing room for the newest arrival of our growing community. Hank made the proper medical preparations while I did all the rest and Logan helped by removing the more dangerous objects in the halls so that Scott would not walk into them.

Logan thought I was silly to intentionally choose a room that was painted in a sky blue with orange curtains, since Scott could not see. I informed him that Hank and the Professor would find a way for Scott to use his eyes as they were meant to be used. He smirked in the way that told me he loved me because of my fiery nature.

Storm drove the professor and Scott home. Hank remained at the mansion so that he could meet Scott, although the professor was adamant that they would not do any tests on the boy until he was more at his ease among us. Logan was eating and Hank was reading while I paced one of the parlors that overlooked the long driveway. When I saw the black luxury car pull into through the gates, I summoned both of them with an excited mental burst.

I was outside and on the impressive entrance stairs before the car had pulled up to the stairs. Logan and Hank emerged as Storm parked the car. Hank hurried down the stairs to help the Professor get out, while Storm opened the opposite door and carefully guided our new arrival onto the paved driveway. He stretched to his full height. I was surprised how tall he was after seeing him huddled like a little boy in his hospital bed. Already he equaled Storm in height while he had an inch or two on the short, stocky Logan.

"Scott, you have one more person to meet. This is Hank McCoy. He was a student under Professor Xavier and is currently in medical school." Storm said as she placed Scott's hand on her arm and led him around the car toward Hank. Hank held out his hand and Storm guided Scott to him.

As he had done with Logan, Storm, and I, Scott gripped the hand, his head cocked at an interested angle. I had not understood this until Storm suggested that he was using the greeting in the same way I would study someone's face to learn about them. While Hank welcomed Scott in his grandiloquent way, I studied the newest arrival. Despite his fortnight in the hospital, he still looked painfully thin. The half of his face that I could see was flushed as if he was ill or in pain, while the rest of his skin was still astonishingly white. Once he had released Hank's grip Storm had taken his hand upon her arm again and before the longwinded speech of welcome was complete, we were all aware that he was leaning on her for assistance.

"Hank, we were advised to have Scott on bed rest for a few more days." Xavier interrupted. "Perhaps you can complete your welcome this evening after he rests."

"Of course, professor." Hank agreed.

It took every ounce of my will to keep from demanding that I be allowed to show Scott to his room. My restraint was rewarded. Storm did not which room had been prepared. "Jean, will you bring in the bags in the back of the car and show us where Scott's room is?" She asked, her teeth flashing white against her gorgeous chocolate colored face as she saw my eyes light up with delight at this request.

I fetched several bags of new clothing that the travelers had stopped to get for Scott, who did not own anything in the world. Hank and Logan followed the professor towards his study, probably to discuss what measures would be needed to assure the boy's recovery and safety while I led the slow way to the second floor where my beautifully prepared room awaited the invalid. Storm named each room as we passed through the foyer, up the stairs and down the long hall of bedrooms.

"The professor's rooms are on the lower floor near his study and I sleep in the opposite wing. Logan is in this same wing as you, but he is near the stairs where he can slip out without disturbing anyone." Storm explained. I skipped ahead to open the door of his room.

"I have a room near Storm, for when I sleep over." I told him.

His mouth tightened into a flat line. "This is your room." Storm said, leading him into the bedroom. We stopped just over the threshold to allow him to examine the room through the senses he could use. I tried to imagine what he might hear, smell, and feel. My eyes closed.

The room smelled fresh. Everything had been scrubbed to give it this clean, healthy scent. It was filled with warm sunlight from the wide-open window that also let in a gentle summer breeze. To me the room felt wide and open, but I knew it was a large room. Could Scott's sharpened senses feel the freedom the bedroom was offering him?

He let Storm's arm go and shuffled forward until he found the end of the bed. Storm caught my arm and would not let me leap forward to show him around the room. "Scott, Jean and I are going to put your clothes in the dresser. When we are done, perhaps you would like to lie down." She suggested. He nodded and continued his slow trek around the room, learning the locations of the desk and chair, dresser and closet on his own. While we folded his few new clothes and put them away he lingered by the window, welcoming the sunlight that bathed him.

I was nearly positive that Storm was affecting the weather to bring him the sunlight he needed. Last night had been wet and rainy. He tested the bandage around his eyes carefully to be sure it was tight. I dropped a pile of socks into the bottom drawer and our work was done. We had left a single outfit for Scott to change into before he retired to his bed.

"There are clean clothes laid out for you on the bed." Storm said. "Why don't you get changed while I make you a hot cup of tea and a snack?"

Scott nodded, still by the window. Storm took hold of my arm and led me out with her. "Come along Jean." She instructed. I think she did that so Scott could know that I was leaving as well and he would be alone.

SCOTT

Before I changed, I walked around the room again. It surprised me how large and open it was. When I found the bed, I discovered a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt had been left for me to change into. Once I had quickly slipped into the pants I sat down on the bed to finish changing my shirt. The bed accepted my weight with a gentle caress, and suddenly I was tired. Before I examined this luxurious place of rest, I stood up and gathered my dirty clothes. There was a wicker laundry basket by the dresser and I dropped my clothes into its empty mouth.

As I returned to the bedside and further examined this wondrous piece of furniture a firm knock sounded at me door. "Are you dressed?" Ms Munroe called.

"Yes ma'am." I replied as my fingers caught the edge of the bedspread and discovered clean sheets and several soft blankets. She opened the door. I could hear dishes jingling on the tray she had in hand. I turned towards her, uncertain what I was supposed to do.

"Did you want me to help you turn the bed down?" She asked kindly.

"Can you show me how to do it?" I asked, determined to take any freedom they might allow me, even if was as small as making up my own bed. Those words startled me. I had not had a proper bed to call my own for years.

She took one end of the bedspread and I took the other. Under her quiet, concise directions, I discovered how to fold back the top covering, which was apparently decorative. I easily pulled the covers up and slipped onto the welcoming mattress. It was one of those special beds that molded itself to your body. My limbs were entrapped by this soothing inveiglement.

"Before you go to sleep you should eat a little something." Ms Munroe said in her rich voice. I started to slide out of bed but she stopped me. "You may eat where you are. I brought you chamomile tea and a couple of cookies that Jean baked as a welcome home treat."

"I may spill." I pointed out.

"You are very careful, Scott and if you do spill we have plenty of clean linen. Everything will be perfectly alright." She replied, slipping the mug into my hand and laying a little plate on my lap. I sipped the warm, bitter brew gratefully prior to hesitantly taking one of the cookies. I wasn't sure how good a teenage girl could bake. The only girls I had known where the ones on the streets and they weren't the kind you find in a kitchen. The girls I had tried to take care of when I lived in the alleys had all been much younger than me. I was suddenly self-conscious. Who knew what rules of adolescent femininity I had already broken in my ignorance?

The cookie was chocolate chip and it was good. Whether Jean Grey was a good specimen of her peers I did not know, but I had now learned that she could bake cookies very well. I finished both cookies and drank half the tea before I became too weary to hold the mug. Ms Munroe took the mug and told me to lie down. She said that someone would check on me in a couple hours and that I was to sleep.

Despite my unfamiliar surroundings, I obeyed her kindly spoken command and I drifted away to a deep dreamless sleep. For the first time since I had been condemned to a life of blindness, I felt that I might have landed in a safe place.