Jean woke fully. She had no idea if she'd got the message across. Rogue had been at least partially aware of her. Maybe if she spoke to The Professor he'd be able to join the dots up. She had to hope. The beacon to the East was so strong now. But even with that, she was too tired to stay awake lying still in the dark for long.
,
"I also have some telepathic ability."
"Like your Professor?" Logan asked.
"Nowhere near that powerful, but he's teaching me to develop it."
He started towards her. "I'm sure he is." He stopped, not two feet in front of her. "So read my mind." He whispered.
"I'd rather not." She had a pretty clear idea of what he thought she'd find in there, and she didn't think she wanted to see that.
"Come on, afraid you might like it?" He smiled at her, challenging her, daring her.
"I doubt that."
But he didn't back away. He just stayed there, his chest eighteen inches from hers, daring her to use her power. His was a new mind, a new challenge. If she just dived, if she made no attempt to look at the surface at all, if she went straight to look beneath…
She raised her hands slowly. He didn't flinch. She closed her eyes and pushed outwards, away from her self.
"No, no, no." The jet started to move. She was doing it. She was actually doing it. She'd cut her escape off. Save them, kill herself.
"No"
The jet rose clear of the water. He could still see the white swell around her, where she'd been holding the flood back, but he couldn't see her.
Then the pitch of the water dropped slightly. The swell disappeared. She'd let go. She'd let herself die. Either that, or she'd run out of strength lifting the jet too. The only sounds now were the jet's engines and the rushing water beneath.
"She's gone." He said. Somewhere to his right, Cyclops was starting to gasp. "She's gone."
"Don't say that!" Cyclops threw himself at him. Logan held his hands by his sides. Unless Scott used his eye beam, he couldn't do him that much damage. Smarter not to hit back. Cyclops grabbed him by the collar. "We gotta go back." But he knew. He knew just as well as the rest of them did. There was no way she was still alive.
"She's gone." Logan repeated.
"No!" Cyclops wrenched him sideways as hard as he could, nowhere near hard enough. "No!" He hit out at Logan again. Logan didn't even bother to block. She was gone. Cyclops shouted wordlessly, as though he'd been shot or stabbed, and fell against Logan. She was gone. She was gone. She'd given herself to save the rest of them. She was gone.
Logan gasped and woke. Due west of him, so did Jean. Sharp pain dragged at the back of both hands. His hands. She felt that if she breathed, she'd lose the connection. The shock of waking had already almost severed it. She felt as though she was watching his shadow through a veil. She had to try.
Logan.
He was looking around in the dark, claws still out, panting. He swallowed and pulled his claws back.
Logan, can you hear me?
He was breathing hard. His hands were balled in to fists, he was still looking around.
Logan, I need you to tell The Professor to use Cerebro.
He got to his feet.
Tell The Professor to use Cerebro.
He padded out of the room. He wouldn't sleep again, not right after that.
Jean cursed softly and looked around in the dark. She hadn't woken Isaac at least. She rolled over to face away from him. She very much doubted she'd reached Logan. But what if she had. What if there was something in his head? Like the beacon leading her east. What if there was just an impulse, in him and Rogue? She hadn't tried to impress an instruction on Scott, but if Logan and Rogue both went to The Professor… He might. He might look for her. If she could recruit a third, if she could put the same instruction on someone else… The more people, the more likely The Professor would listen.
Yes, the dreams caused distress, but she had to get home. She didn't have a lift right now. She could potentially be stuck here for hours or days. If she could get them to look for her…
She curled up a little tighter and closed her eyes.
,
She rinsed the facecloth out again, then wrung it as dry as she could. Scott did the same with his beside her. She guided his hand to where to hang his before hanging her own to dry. He'd taken his glasses off to wash his face. The water was cooling her skin, it was so hot tonight. She had no intention of drying herself.
"You done in here?" He asked.
"Yeah." She took him by the hand and led him back to bed, picking up his glasses as she went. He trusted her enough that he didn't put his hand out in front of him when she led him. It was Storm's night on call. They wouldn't be disturbed unless someone needed medical attention. She set his glasses down on the nightstand and let him feel where they were, then backed on to the bed. He followed her, putting his other hand down. She'd cooled off to a comfortable temperature now.
She let go of his hand. They were both kneeling on the bed now. He reached for her, guessing. His hand brushed the skin of her chest. She held still for him, where was he going with this? She was certainly sated, she'd assumed he was. His other hand found her shoulder. He was going to kiss her. She could go with that. As the hand on her chest moved up to her neck, she put her hands on his shoulders. He leaned in to kiss her. She met him half way.
"I love you." He said softly as they broke apart.
"I love you too." She lay down, he did the same. They pulled the sheet – no way they were sleeping under more than a sheet tonight – up over themselves.
She drew her body up against Scott's. The blankets were drawn up over their heads. She had a feeling she'd get cold easily now she was still. He drew himself in to her in return. They'd spent so many nights lying chest to chest like this that they didn't need to fidget now. Both of them knew how tight they could hold, how much pressure was comforting, how much more than that it took to be uncomfortable. Both of them knew that he always slept with his hand over his eyes, but that the arm of that hand could reach around her first if they lay close enough, his other arm across the small of her back. One of her arms was wrapped under his shoulders, her other hand was resting on his thigh. His breathing was already slowing towards sleep.
She lay with her eyes open for a minute. Savouring this. She could still feel his body on hers, where he had been as much as where he was, sensations often lingered. She could hear the wind outside. There was more snow on the way tonight. When Storm was sure, it always happened. The grounds were already eerily quiet with snow. They'd pushed afternoon classes back by half an hour so everyone had time to go out and play in the snow over lunch. Bobby had, of course, spent all of that half hour making a six-foot tall, intricately detailed ice dragon, ignoring any and all snowballs thrown at him. Scott had threatened John with a detention if he melted the dragon, or even tried to.
Scott reached in to the dark and found empty space. And he'd believed it. He'd believed she was there. He brought his hands up to his eyes and cried out wordlessly. She was gone. She was gone.
Scott!
She grit her teeth and pushed, as hard as she could.
Scott, hear me!
He missed her. Oh God he missed her, every waking moment of every day, and a lot of the time he wasn't awake as well.
Scott!
It was a shadow. A phantom left by the sudden death of so powerful a telepath. A scar on his mind.
Scott! You don't have to believe I'm real, but you have to make The Professor use Cerebro. Can you hear me?
All that was left of Jean, he carried. He couldn't bear it, but he couldn't wish her, what little was left of her, gone.
Scott, you have to make The Professor use Cerebro. I'm coming. I'm coming home as fast as I can. Help me.
He turned on to his side and started to cry, hands over his eyes, shaking.
Scott!
Jean let go. He… she didn't think he could hear her, not properly. But he was aware of her. But he was just so sure she was dead. Like The Professor. What would it take to get him to look for her? It wouldn't be enough, would it? What she'd done tonight wouldn't be enough. She was alone.
It was light. She sat up. Isaac's watch said 6:10. His alarm would go off in a few minutes. There was no point even trying to sleep.
Please review.
The Evanescene song 'My Immortal' was concerned with this chapter (not to be confused with the infamous Harry Potter fanfic of the same name).