I received an alert today saying a new chapter of one of my favorite fics had been submitted so I got inspired and wrote some more.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, names, etc; I don't even own the clothes I'm wearing, OK? What else can I say? It was a rough year... but 2008 is promisingly good so far.
The Phoenix's Amend
A not so perfect romantic dinner was interrupted before it started by Xavier's call summoning all X-Men to a disaster zone. There, a supposedly dead mutant swapped Scott and Jean's powers.
The Shadow of the Phoenix
It was a known fact that the X-Men worked best under pressure. Even though, it took several minutes for Storm and Rogue to take care of the situation, especially understaffed as they were with the rest of their team out of combat. The strong mutant threw them away in opposite directions as he saw the two flying women approaching him, getting ready to confront them. Scott managed to land on his fours, but Jean had a bad time hitting the floor in a painful way, meters away.
In the meaning time, the rest of the team told Storm thought the intercom that they'd be there in no time, while both girls were trying to keep the enemy busy, shrinking their brains to come up with a way to reduce it, the troubled couple struggled with their own problems. Scott was the first one to react.
He knew at once what had happened, he had spent too many years listening to Jean and Charle's complaints as not to recognize the symptoms. Then he heard Jean scream and completed the picture. His first impulse was to take off his glasses and find a way to give them to her, even when the pain inside his head was excruciating. He reminded how hard it had been for him the first times his power had emerged and wanted to make it easy to her. If there was a bright side or something useful to learn about those horrible first experiences with his optic blasts, then it had to be being able to help her, making it easier for her.
It was his determination what made him look for her, overcome the impulse of not opening his eyes without the glasses, and trying to forget of that terrible headache. It was like thousands of radios and TV's screaming inside his head with the volume set at the maximum. He felt bad for Jean feeling like that as she grew up, as if his own teenage years wouldn't have been difficult as well. It was love what made him so partial, but he was unable to be objective when it was about her and it has always been like that. In that moment he respected her, as he truly understood the difficulty of keeping everyone else's minds out of his own. Until that moment, even though he knew how her gift worked, Scott was unconsciously unable to see sometimes how hard it might have been for her to restrain her powers as not to read people's minds, even after learning to control it, doing it was a whole different thing.
Of course all that reasoning took him only a few seconds at the speed his aching mind was thinking. It felt completely different from what it was to be himself, if that made any sense to anyone. Anyway, he forced himself to open his eyes and looked around a bit confusing. It had been a while since he was last able to see the world its real color and the compulsion to close his eyes and clutch his head was really hard to fight. It took him all his determination to do so, but once he did it, finding Jean wasn't really all that difficult. She had stopped screaming, but was still unable to control her eyes.
With things as they were, it was going to be really difficult to get near her alive. She was not able to see, he knew that much, so there had to be a way to make her stay still. Besides, she could feel her confusion and pain in his head, among with Storm and Rogue's desperation to beat the enemy and thousands of other thoughts, not only of the people under the debris, but also of the rest of the neighborhood.
"Jean, stay still! Try to look at the sky!" he suggested, trying to reach her at the top of his voice, feeling the voices in his head were actually making him deaf. He felt he wouldn't be heard otherwise, despite the fact he knew better than that. "I'll take you my glasses! Just stay there… try not to kill me!" he told her adding a little bit of humor to the situation. It seemed there was an uncle raping his niece somewhere near, but he didn't want to think about it, he didn't want to know about it! …or the people watching a soap opera, or cooking dinner or whatever. Couldn't they just shut up!?
As she had been blocking all that noise pretty neatly before the incident, she didn't connect the ideas as fast as he did or as she should have when she first felt the beams coming out of her eyes, but the shock was too big for that and, when she finally deduced what was going on and tried to aim somewhere where she wouldn't hurt anyone, the pain was so piercing, she had lost control of herself. She had tried to control that, but it was stronger than her, and also feared she would take Rouge or Storm down if she tried to look up. Then she heard Scott's voice and it made sense to her. They both were able to see as well as to fly, so she probably shouldn't misjudge their capacity to dodge her beams. She told herself that and made an effort to look up just as Scott had just told her to, but it was really difficult to take control over that. "I'm trying!" she told him turning around with some difficulty, not able to stand up after that difficult fall in order to avoid facing him, hoping he'd be able to approach her from behind.
Scott got the hint and tried to do so, walking to her with the red shades in his hand and the other one on his head. "How do you shut it up!?" he asked with a note of worry in his voice. There was no way he could connect two ideas together like that, he lacked the space for his own thoughts in there with all that noise going on. That comment confirmed her suspicious and she tried to think for a moment. She did so automatically, although they had taught her how somewhere along the way. How to put it in a concise way? She couldn't think straight, her head was aching too. "Hum… focus on something else! Think of something quiet!" she suggested doubting he would find the advice any useful. It had been really hard for her to master that art and she would have remained at the mental institution if it weren't for Professor Xavier's mental block, which allowed her to develop and tame her power slowly, at her own pace. "I'm right here" he said behind her, to prevent her to keep on yelling like that, but a part of him still felt that if she stopped yelling, he wouldn't hear her among all the others inside his head.
He got close to her and knelt by her side, behind her, where he helped her to put on the glasses firmly in place. "You can open your eyes now…" he told her noticing how much the fall had hurt her. If only he could think straight. "Thanks" she said slightly relieved, but still in pain. "Can you stand up?" She nodded, not really sure. "You need to see the Professor… he can shut your mind for …" Jean said taking his arm to lift herself and try to stand up, but she fell again at once. "…you" ended the phrase, feeling the situation overwhelmed her.
Good thing was, the rest of the team arrived soon after, balancing the score to their advantage before it was over.
A couple of hours later, in the mansion, Scott entered their shared room without the tray Ororo insisted he should take her. He had been through that before and knew food would be the last thing in her mind if her experience was anything like his.
The professor had spent what seemed like an eternity trying to place a mind block on him as he had done with her ages ago, and thus, he was already feeling much better than she was. He had even forgotten about his shyness and pride and felt decided to take care of her as much as he could. Of all the people in the universe, she was the only one to whom he would have never wished such an unpleasant experience, let alone painful.
"How do you feel?" he asked as he entered the room and sat beside her on the bed, taking her hand in his. He rose it to his lips to kiss it. He didn't care about appearances or quarrels in that moment, he just wanted her to be all right and the fact the Professor had been able to mitigate his pain but not hers made him feel guilty for no logical reason. It hadn't been his fault after all, but it had nothing to do with logics. "I will survive. I was lucky not to break any bone" she said calmly. Rising her voice was out of question considering the way her head ached, in spite of the pain killers she had taken. He felt that didn't quite answered his question, so he tried again. "How's your head?" Scott asked looking at her with his night googles on. Good Lord! Her hair looked especially red when compared to her pale skin… now that he could actually see the difference. She seemed even more beautiful than before and he could appreciate tons of little details he hadn't been able to notice before. "Hurts like hell…" she said not wanting to. She didn't want to make him feel worse. Jean knew him and blaming himself was just a part of the process whenever anyone got hurt at the missions, or even the training sessions. He winced and she placed a hand on his cheek, trying to let him know it was not his fault, for she had long ago gave up on trying to prevent him from taking all the blame. "It'll go away… eventually" he knew it wasn't the most comforting thing he could have told her, but it was the only truth he had for her. "It must have been hard for you to live like this…"she thought aloud. "And the fear of hurting somebody…" Jean thought this time to herself, understanding him better than she did before. She didn't feel pity for him, but a wave of warm love and the urge to hug him and comfort the scared child that he once was, so that he would never feel lonely again.
As she didn't feel like sharing those thoughts with him, so she just kept on caressing his cheek as payback for what he was doing to her hand.
They stayed in silence like that for a really long time before either of them dared to break it. Scott thought it might have been the perfect moment to talk about how he felt and apologize to her if it weren't for her headache. The more he thought about that, he became more convinced that it wasn't a good timing after all. She might think he pitied her and only apologized because of that. No, it wasn't a good idea. It had to be when both of them were ok and receptive, so she wouldn't misunderstand his feelings. Of course, there was a part of his mind that kept on telling him that it was only a mere excuse to keep on avoiding the subject, even if the logic evidence against the whole idea was overwhelming.
"…think we'll ever make it?" she had asked, but he was obviously not listening. "What? Sorry, I was somewhere else" he apologized looking at her for a couple of seconds, not daring to fully stare after having not heard what she was saying. "I asked if you really think we'll ever have a chance to be happy together…" she said softly, with a sad note present in her voice, looking at the red silhouette he had turned into, but ready to look away as soon as he looked at her. Or at least that was what she had thought, but when he actually did, she couldn't play dumb. It was only a second though, before he returned to look at her hand in his instead of her face. It hurt him to see her in his usual condition and felt pathetic. If that was how other people saw him, it made sense they'd mock at him, trying to be a leader and wearing ridiculous googles to sleep. But she was different, she had been able to see him through, the real Scott Summers, not just a bunch of powers trapped in a random human body. Of course his friends cared for him too, but it was not the same kind of affection, it wasn't as unconditional as hers and it took much longer to construct. With Jean, things seemed too easy and at the same time too hard. It was feeling that everything would be all right and at the same time having the facts destroying that theory in the blink of an eye. After all, what chance have they been given? To start over? To start from the beginning, having to go through the same troubles? Or new ones, what difference would it make? If it wasn't the Phoenix that killed her, it would be something else or maybe him dying instead, or just something strange and complicated like what they were going through at that moment…
As he thought all that, she began to believe he wouldn't answer her question and felt discouraged, allowing her mind to become pessimistic in spite of herself. "I…" that was a fine question, but he was unsure about the matter, not having a firm opinion on it yet. "I don't know what I think… I hope so…" was all he could tell her at the time.
Jean remained silent as she thought about it some more, not able to remain objective and letting the situation and headache overwhelm her. "What if we're not really meant to be?" she dared to ask almost in a whisper, as if she feared those words would turn into a monster and devour her. The idea alarmed him and he turned his head to her, looking for her eyes. He needed to know she didn't mean that for real. She couldn't be saying such a thing after all they've been through to be together, after he gave up his former life to have a new beginning with her. He frowned confused, as the concept was too abstract for him to digest. A few incoherent sounds left his mouth. Why was she telling him that? He grew tense after the first doubtful moment and felt a little resented towards her. "How can you say that after all we've fought to get here?" he asked her still not believing it. That didn't sound like his Jean. "I'm just wondering…" she corrected herself, rising her voice to a normal volume. "What if no matter how much effort we put into it and how hard we try it doesn't work?" she asked this time not fearing to say it since they were already talking about it.
"Well in that case I prefer to die trying" he told her convinced of it. Wasn't that what she had done before? Every time? Hurting him and everybody around them… "There will always be problems showing up from time to time, but isn't life about solving them and moving on together?" it was one of those rare moments in which she was the pessimistic and he the one cheering her up and they both were well aware of it.
She didn't say anything first, but then it made sense. "Yeah, I guess you're right… I guess I've just let the situation take over me for a while" she expressed still sounding somehow sad. "But I am scared… I'm afraid I will end up leaving you alone and hurting you as I did before every time I died as the Phoenix… What if something else happens to put me in that position again? Something different… what if that's our faith?" she let him know her doubts and fears, undressing her soul to him. "Weren't you the one who always told me that every one of us makes their own faith?" he asked wondering if she had been telling him something she didn't believe herself in the first place. No, Jean wasn't that kind of person. He knew her better than that. It wasn't the time to doubt her, but to be strong for her. "I believe you. Since when you stopped believing in that?" he wondered out loud. She barely rocked her head to the sides. It wasn't like that either.
Jean sighed, feeling her head ached harder when she forced herself to think and to talk, but it was worth it. Talking that kind of things was by far more important than any physical pain. "I don't know… I hope I'm right" she just said, worried, but not able to think of any other thing to add.
For a second, Scott felt like telling her all he had given up for her, for that chance for her to take it so lightly, but what had he given up in the end? A life that didn't satisfy him with a demanding woman he loved only because he had been told to and had no other chance? He tried to stay rational. His feelings when powered by frustration never led to anything good. That was not the time for recriminations, if any. Then, he remembered what she had told him some days ago, about letting time heal the wounds. His pride wasn't that important for him anymore when it was about her and looking in retrospective, he thought. "What made him angrier was her pushing me away, forcing me to be with Emma" his mind racing with that thought stream. "It was my life, what if I wanted to suffer whatever it might have taken to be with you?" He had to admit it was something he had thought a thousand times before and it was pointless to go over again, but just couldn't help it. "Right, we have already talked about that. She said she was sorry, I now think it doesn't matter anymore, that it's pointless to keep on going on a track of pride that won't take us an inch closer to each others, now what?" he asked himself, out of script.
After a long silence, he talked again. "Do you love me, Jean?" he asked her honestly, looking at her eyes through the ruby quartz. She tried to say something that looked like a complaint but he interrupted. "I know you've said so before, but now. Do you love me?" he demanded to know sounding more and more convinced of his own feelings as she doubted. "Of course I do!" she said vehemently as soon as he let her speak. "With all my heart and you know it…" and it seemed as if she were about to reproach him for doubting it. "After all, you were the one playing difficult while I apologized…" she remembered. She found out her own advice was useful for once. If she thought about something else, even if the headache got worse, for a moment she was able not to remember it. "I wonder if he did that too to get rid of it when he was going through this…" she asked herself.
"Then don't worry about what is yet to come" Scott asked her lightly squeezing her hand for a moment, stopping her talk with herself. It felt nice not to be a telepath for once. It made her mind be at peace, incoherent as it might sound with her recently acquired teenager mutant crisis. "I'm taking care of you…" he told her, making her feel she slowly began to recover her husband, the man she had fallen in love with. He wasn't good with words and he knew it. He never was. "I've been thinking and…" for the umpteenth time in their lives, they were interrupted. He was so frustrated he could have hit Ororo, but he was too much of a repressed person for that. "Oh damn! I had even thought what I wanted to say!" he complaint to himself. That was something that didn't happen every day.
Their friend entered the room after a short knock, bringing the tray with her food, the one she had asked him to take her. "Maybe I should have listened to her and then I'd have had the chance to…" but then something else might have happened. "Perhaps it just wasn't the time for that" he accepted with resignation, after giving Ororo the evil eye. The poor woman thought he was still mad at her because of the tray, he realized. "Oh, well. Nevermind" he thought. He'd be nicer to her for a while and it would be all right.
"Thanks, Ro" Jean smiled at her friend feeling internally relieved. She did want to hear what he might have had to say, it sounded so promising! She could tell by his voice, but with the tension and her headache she preferred to save the talk for another occasion. One in which she could actually enjoy it instead of suffering it. "I'll try to eat some later" As she left, she would have asked him where he was before the interruption, just for the fun of making him uncomfortable and seeing him blush. He was cute when he did so, the powerful man and mighty leader blushing… but she was too tired even for that. "Do you mind if I sleep now, Scott. I'm really tired" she confessed, making him feel a little disappointed, but he nodded anyway. "Sure. I'll be here in case you need me" he let her know as he rose to look for a book to entertain himself with.
She found herself at a house by the sea. It was a small cottage with the most amazing view, especially at sunset. The sun was setting and there was no one else in the house besides her and her cat Prometheus, the one she had as a child. The black cat purred as he walked near her, happy to be there.
She looked around, getting away from the Bo window, into the room. The walls were a soft shade of green and the afternoon light printed a glittering pattern in them, making the paintings hanging in some strategic places come to life. They were all seascapes and there was also a fireplace and further into the room, in the opposite wall, an arcade leading to what appeared to be a yellow kitchen. Jean walked there out of curiosity, stopping only for a second to see a picture of her and Scott on top of the fireplace, before reaching the kitchen with the small shadow Prometheus was, following her closely, meowing for food. "Okay okay, I'll feed you" she said and giggled at the idea of her, talking to a cat. "Calm down!" she asked him giggling again, happy to find herself in such a comfortable place.
The house wasn't any residence she had been to before, but she could easily recognize her own touch in it. With that on mind, her eyes ran through the furniture. "Now, where would I put your food if I were myslelf?" she asked the animal, as if it would reply. It was sitting in the floor, its green eyes fixed on hers. She thought for a moment. "Right, the right door of the ladder!" Jean told herself, remembering that's where her mother used to keep it. Naturally, she found it there and as soon as the bowl was filled, the cat completely forgot about her, allowing Jean to caress it, but ignoring her nevertheless. She was about to tell something to the animal when the phone rang. It was Scott, telling her he would be home for dinner.
A normal life, nothing more than what she had asked for, something simple. It made her feel like a school girl playing housewife and she thought of something nice to make him for dinner. His favorite dish perhaps.
Half the meal was done when something caught her attention. Someone was crying. A baby. She hesitated for a second before going back to the living room and discovering a door that wasn't there before. It led to a darker room, where the lights were off and the last rays of the day didn't reach. The walls were painted a soft color she couldn't define and took a step into the room. There was no doubt the sound came from there. She could see a pink crib in the middle of the room, and for a moment she didn't dare to go any further. It felt like she was profaning some sacred place, somebody else's life, even though just a minute before it felt so hers. "We have a baby?" she asked herself taking another unsure step to the crib, suddenly invaded by a motherly instinct that urged her to calm her down, make her feel protected, and the feeling of possessiveness reappeared. She longed to get close to that baby, to hold it and feel it as a part of her life, her reality… it was such a tempting idea that it warmed her heart.
That was before she realized she was not alone. There was a woman there, standing in the darkness. Her hair was a rebel red mass that seemed to have its own life, gravity laws didn't applied to it, and was wearing red and gold. Green eyes pierced Jean's defiantly, telling her in silence not to come close.
The woman she recognized at once was holding the baby, but she couldn't see it, only the large blanket in which it was warped. Her dark reflection looked at her with hate and her body language was that of a thief. It was obvious there was nothing maternal about the Phoenix standing there or the way she held the child, like it was a thing, a mere object she was sent to retrieve. "She is mine!" the entity made flesh warned her, fiercely taking a step closer to her, making Jean feel intimidated.