Title: A Friend in Need II: Sweet Child of Mine 20/22
Author: Somogyi
Email: somogyi02@yahoo.com
Archive: Sure, just please ask first
Rating: PG-13 for language, violence, and some disturbing imagery
Summary: Jubilee is well on the way to recovery from the physical injuries she
sustained during "A Friend in Need," thanks to the help of Logan and Jean. The
psychic damage, however, has been slow to heal: she is still plagued by regular
nightmares and her memory has not yet returned. And while Jean's endless devotion
to Jubilee is helping her to recuperate, it is starting to put a strain on Jean's
marriage to Scott.
Disclaimer: The X-Men and Generation X are property of Marvel Entertainment.
Characters are used without permission, no profit is being made, and no infringement
on copyright is intended.
*****
A Friend in Need II: Sweet Child of Mine
by Somogyi
somogyi02@yahoo.com
Chapter 20
Staring out the passenger-side window, Jean sighed in frustration. She felt that
she should be doing more. It had been over four hours since they had split up to
begin the search for Jubilee. Hank had found only Remy, Rogue, and Bobby in the
mansion to help out with the cause. Storm and Rogue had taken to the skies,
making ever-widening circles beginning with the Salem Center area, and expanding
to Westchester proper. Bobby and Remy had headed down Graymalkin Lane in the
direction of town. Once there, they planned to canvas the area store by store,
hoping that between Remy's charm and the trustworthiness of Bobby's boyish good
looks, people might be sympathetic enough to the cause to take the time to
remember if they had seen Jubilee. Hank remained at the mansion, in case Jubilee
called or showed up. While there, he intended to contact local hospitals and
shelters to see if anyone matching Jubilee's description had shown up within the
past twenty-four hours.
That left Jean and Scott to take Graymalkin Lane headed in the opposite
direction of Remy and Bobby. They were searching the road visually--as well as
stopping at any store or house they passed; Jean was also conducting a psi-scan
as they drove. What she had really wanted to do was travel under her own power;
she could go faster, and she would not be forced to be in such close vicinity to
Scott for such an extended period of time. Unfortunately, Hank had been the
first to nix that idea, insisting that she still needed to take it somewhat easy
during her recuperation. She could tell that even with the tension between them,
Scott was glad to be able to keep an eye on her during their search. Damn him,
why couldn't he be more upset with her? It would make being angry with him that
much easier.
Closing her eyes, Jean pinched the bridge of her nose. She felt a headache
developing, right behind her eyes. What she wouldn't give for a couple of Advil
right about now. That, and a nap.
"You okay?" she heard Scott ask. There was concern--tenderness even--in his
voice.
"Fine," she murmured, opening her eyes. She spared a glance in his direction,
saw him doing the same. For a moment, he reached toward her with his right hand,
intent on touching her, no doubt. But he caught himself, returned the hand to
the wheel. He gazed out at the road again.
"No sign of her?" he asked.
"None." She sighed again. "We're almost ten miles from the mansion, Scott. How
could she have gotten this far?"
"With almost a day's head start, she could probably get twice as far blading."
"But with her injuries--"
"Jean, Jubilee has been walking unaided for almost two weeks. Her balance has
been fine. I'm sure blading is like riding a bike--it'd come back to her
naturally. She could probably be in New York City by now."
"Don't even joke about that. We might never find her. . . ." Blinking, Jean
turned her head away even further, staring out at the side of the road.
This time, she did feel Scott's hand on her knee. He gave it a gentle squeeze.
"We'll find her, Jean." There was not a shred of doubt in his voice.
Jean could still not bring herself to look at him. Biting her bottom lip, she
dared not speak. She merely nodded her head in agreement.
They continued on in silence.
"Looks like we're coming up on a gas station," Scott said a few minutes later.
"Can we stop? I need to use the rest room."
Scott pulled up in front of the small grocery store. Jean got out of the car,
heading for the bathroom. Scott, too, got out of the car to stretch his legs.
Glancing inside the store, he saw a young man minding the cash register.
*Leave no stone unturned,* Scott thought, heading inside. He walked over to the
cashier.
"Can I help you, sir?" the kid asked.
"I hope so. I was wondering if you've seen a girl pass through here yesterday or
today," Scott said, pulling out a photograph and handing it to the kid.
"Sixteen, Asian, short black hair, about five-three, probably wearing a pair of
roller blades."
The young man shook his head as he handed Scott back the picture. "Nope, sorry.
You might wanna ask Betty," he suggested, pointing toward the back, where a
middle-aged woman stood behind a small deli counter. "She was workin' most of
yesterday."
"Thanks." Scott walked to the back of the store.
"Afternoon," Betty said with a smile. "What can I get'cha?"
"I was hoping you may have seen this girl pass through here," Scott said,
holding out the photograph as he described Jubilee once more.
"Lemme put on m'glasses," Betty said, pulling them on from where they hung
around her neck. She took the photo from him and studied it carefully. "Nope,
she don't look familiar. Sorry. Pretty gal, though," she said, handing the photo
back. "She gone missin'?"
Scott nodded. "For almost a day. My wife and I have been looking for her."
"You mean that pretty redhead who came in right before you to use the
facilities?"
"Yes, that's her."
"You two look awful young to have a teenaged kid."
"She's our foster daughter."
Betty nodded knowingly. "Well, I hope you find her."
"Thanks." He started to turn to leave.
"Can I get'cha somethin' for the road?"
Scott hesitated. Turning back, he peered into the deli counter, considering.
A short time later, he returned to the car, a small bag in tow. Jean was already
waiting.
"They haven't seen her," Scott said, putting the bag on the seat between them.
"What's that?" Jean asked as she fastened her seat belt.
"I figured you hadn't eaten since this morning, so I got you a sandwich," he
replied, pulling out what looked like a hero. "Hope turkey's okay. I got you a
tea, too," he said, putting the cardboard container in the cup holder. "Oh, and
some Advil for your headache," he said, handing her a small foil package.
Jean looked at him in amazement. "Did you get anything?"
"A bottle of water," Scott replied, removing it from the bag and taking a swig.
"What about to eat?"
"I'm fine," he replied, fastening his own seat belt and starting the car.
Jean looked down at the sandwich in her lap. "Scott, I'll never be able to eat
all this. Why don't we split it?"
"That's okay, Jean. You have it." He pulled the car back out of the space and
drove back onto the road.
"Don't be silly. I'm not the only one who hasn't eaten since this morning. You
won't do Jubilee any good if you start hallucinating with hunger."
He smiled at that. "All right."
"Good." She put her half on the paper bag, and placed the other half next to
him. "Can you reach okay?"
"Yeah, that's fine." As he reached for the sandwich, his hand grazed hers. He
glanced over at Jean, and she graced him with a small smile.
"Thanks, Scott."
"No problem," he said, returning the smile. Well, it was a start.
*****
As dusk approached, Jean felt her hope sink. They had called Hank an hour
earlier. Ororo and Rogue had already returned to the mansion, exhausted, their
search fruitless. Bobby and Remy had likewise turned up nothing; at the time,
they still had a handful of buildings to canvas. They would probably be back by
now. Hank, too, had learned nothing.
Jean leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes, exhausted. "How much longer do
you want to continue?" she asked Scott.
"It's up to you, Jean. I'll keep at it as long as you want to."
Eyes still closed, Jean smiled. "How about another half hour?"
"That sounds--what the hell?"
Jean sensed Scott's surprise a moment before his exclamation. Opening her eyes,
she looked out at the road. In the distance, they could see flashing red and
blue lights. There must have been an accident.
Slowing down, Scott drove until he reached a makeshift barricade of police cars.
Several yards ahead of them, they could make out two more police cars, as well
as an ambulance. On the side of the road, a sedan had evidently plowed headfirst
into a tree, totaling the car.
"Looks bad," Scott remarked, staring out at the carnage. "I wonder if--"
The slamming of the car door cut off his words. Scott turned and watched in
surprise as Jean started jogging toward the accident scene. He quickly
unfastened his seat belt and opened his own door. "Jean?" he called to her.
"Jean!"
But Jean was not listening. She had a single-minded goal at that moment: to
reach the car wreck and see it with her own eyes. As they had approached, she
had gotten a sense of something--like a psychic fingerprint left behind. She
only hoped she were wrong.
Jean ducked under the yellow police line tape. A cop approached her, but with a
wave of her hand, she pushed him aside telekinetically. She did not have time
for distractions.
On the asphalt, she saw tire tracks, leading toward the tree. There were also
smaller skid marks--like those made by a bike. Or skates. They led in the
opposite direction, toward the metal divider. And they ended in a pool of blood.
"Ma'am, what are you doing here? This is a crime scene."
Jean ignored the burly police officer, instead focusing on the blood. And
something beside it. Something glittering in the flashing police lights.
"Ma'am? I'm gonna have to ask you to leave."
Jean walked slowly towards the blood and mystery object. The cop quickly gave
chase.
Bending down, Jean saw a gold necklace. On it was a pendant. A script 'J' with a
tiny diamond in the center. Jean stared at it in disbelief, blinking back tears.
Jean reached for the necklace, took the thin chain in her fingers.
"What the hell are you doing?" the cop shouted, grabbing Jean's arm. "That's
evidence. Don't touch it. Really, ma'am, you're gonna have to leave now." He
roughly hoisted her to her feet.
"Jean!" Scott shouted, approaching her, two more cops on his tail. "Jean, what's
going on?"
Jean stared up at Scott, mouth trembling.
"Jean? Honey, you've gone white as a sheet," Scott said, walking closer and
taking her by the shoulders. "What's wrong?"
Silently, Jean held up her hand. The chain dangled from her fingers.
At first, Scott stared down at the necklace, brow furrowed in confusion. But
then he caught sight of the familiar pendant. He reached for it, let it fall
against his palm so that he could get a better look. "Oh God," he gasped, his
heart in his throat.
"Sir, if you two don't cease and desist immediately, I will be forced to have
you both arrested."
"You- you don't understand, officer," Scott rasped, his voice sounding like
sandpaper in his own ears. "That necklace . . . it belongs to our foster
daughter."
The cop's eyes widened. "You sure 'bout that?"
Jean nodded. "We gave it to her a couple of months ago."
At that moment, two EMS workers were headed toward the ambulance, wheeling a
gurney between them. The body on it was covered by a bloodstained sheet.
"Dear God, no!" Jean gasped, hand flying to her mouth.
Scott took a step toward her, his hand reaching for her back to steady her.
Without another word, Jean headed toward the stretcher. After a few strides, she
broke into a run. "Wait!" she called to them.
Confused, the paramedics stopped and turned to look at Jean.
Approaching the body, Jean swallowed, summoning her courage. With a shaky hand,
she reached for the sheet.
"Jean!" Scott called, hurrying toward her.
Before the paramedics could say or do anything, Jean pulled back the sheet,
revealing the face of the victim.
The right side of the head was caked with blood, and the skull looked somewhat
sunken. The nose appeared broken, pushed to the side in an unnatural position.
But despite these disfiguring injuries, the blonde-haired face was distinctly
male.
Jean took an unsteady step backwards, and fell to her knees before anyone could
react. A moment later, Scott was beside her, holding her.
"It's not her," Jean gasped, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Scott looked over her shoulder at the corpse. He could not help but sigh in
relief.
"It's not her," Jean sobbed. "Oh, Scott, it's not her."
"I know," Scott replied, tucking her head under his chin and resting his cheek
on her hair.
"That was the driver." Scott looked up to see the cop who had just questioned
them about the necklace. The officer gestured to the paramedics, and they
covered the corpse before proceeding to load it into the ambulance. "Won't know
for sure till the blood work comes back, but from the empty beer cans in the
back seat, we suspect he was DUI."
"What about Jubilee?" Scott asked him, even as he continued to hold Jean, whose
sobs were finally beginning to subside. "What about our foster daughter?"
"Looks like she was skating down the road when the car struck her. From the
marks, don't look like it was going too fast at the time. Probably started
braking, or turned to try to avoid hitting her, when it impacted. In either
case, she got thrown across the highway, while the car hit the tree. Driver was
killed instantly."
"And Jubilee?" Scott prompted, growing annoyed. "What happened to her? Is she
all right?"
"Banged up a bit. Big cut on her head, bleeding like the dickens. But head
wounds tend to do that. Probably got a concussion, too. She was unconscious when
they took her to the hospital."
"So she's alive?"
"Yeah."
"Thank God," Scott sighed, offering a silent prayer. "What hospital was she
taken to?"
End Chapter 20
*****
Author: Somogyi
Email: somogyi02@yahoo.com
Archive: Sure, just please ask first
Rating: PG-13 for language, violence, and some disturbing imagery
Summary: Jubilee is well on the way to recovery from the physical injuries she
sustained during "A Friend in Need," thanks to the help of Logan and Jean. The
psychic damage, however, has been slow to heal: she is still plagued by regular
nightmares and her memory has not yet returned. And while Jean's endless devotion
to Jubilee is helping her to recuperate, it is starting to put a strain on Jean's
marriage to Scott.
Disclaimer: The X-Men and Generation X are property of Marvel Entertainment.
Characters are used without permission, no profit is being made, and no infringement
on copyright is intended.
*****
A Friend in Need II: Sweet Child of Mine
by Somogyi
somogyi02@yahoo.com
Chapter 20
Staring out the passenger-side window, Jean sighed in frustration. She felt that
she should be doing more. It had been over four hours since they had split up to
begin the search for Jubilee. Hank had found only Remy, Rogue, and Bobby in the
mansion to help out with the cause. Storm and Rogue had taken to the skies,
making ever-widening circles beginning with the Salem Center area, and expanding
to Westchester proper. Bobby and Remy had headed down Graymalkin Lane in the
direction of town. Once there, they planned to canvas the area store by store,
hoping that between Remy's charm and the trustworthiness of Bobby's boyish good
looks, people might be sympathetic enough to the cause to take the time to
remember if they had seen Jubilee. Hank remained at the mansion, in case Jubilee
called or showed up. While there, he intended to contact local hospitals and
shelters to see if anyone matching Jubilee's description had shown up within the
past twenty-four hours.
That left Jean and Scott to take Graymalkin Lane headed in the opposite
direction of Remy and Bobby. They were searching the road visually--as well as
stopping at any store or house they passed; Jean was also conducting a psi-scan
as they drove. What she had really wanted to do was travel under her own power;
she could go faster, and she would not be forced to be in such close vicinity to
Scott for such an extended period of time. Unfortunately, Hank had been the
first to nix that idea, insisting that she still needed to take it somewhat easy
during her recuperation. She could tell that even with the tension between them,
Scott was glad to be able to keep an eye on her during their search. Damn him,
why couldn't he be more upset with her? It would make being angry with him that
much easier.
Closing her eyes, Jean pinched the bridge of her nose. She felt a headache
developing, right behind her eyes. What she wouldn't give for a couple of Advil
right about now. That, and a nap.
"You okay?" she heard Scott ask. There was concern--tenderness even--in his
voice.
"Fine," she murmured, opening her eyes. She spared a glance in his direction,
saw him doing the same. For a moment, he reached toward her with his right hand,
intent on touching her, no doubt. But he caught himself, returned the hand to
the wheel. He gazed out at the road again.
"No sign of her?" he asked.
"None." She sighed again. "We're almost ten miles from the mansion, Scott. How
could she have gotten this far?"
"With almost a day's head start, she could probably get twice as far blading."
"But with her injuries--"
"Jean, Jubilee has been walking unaided for almost two weeks. Her balance has
been fine. I'm sure blading is like riding a bike--it'd come back to her
naturally. She could probably be in New York City by now."
"Don't even joke about that. We might never find her. . . ." Blinking, Jean
turned her head away even further, staring out at the side of the road.
This time, she did feel Scott's hand on her knee. He gave it a gentle squeeze.
"We'll find her, Jean." There was not a shred of doubt in his voice.
Jean could still not bring herself to look at him. Biting her bottom lip, she
dared not speak. She merely nodded her head in agreement.
They continued on in silence.
"Looks like we're coming up on a gas station," Scott said a few minutes later.
"Can we stop? I need to use the rest room."
Scott pulled up in front of the small grocery store. Jean got out of the car,
heading for the bathroom. Scott, too, got out of the car to stretch his legs.
Glancing inside the store, he saw a young man minding the cash register.
*Leave no stone unturned,* Scott thought, heading inside. He walked over to the
cashier.
"Can I help you, sir?" the kid asked.
"I hope so. I was wondering if you've seen a girl pass through here yesterday or
today," Scott said, pulling out a photograph and handing it to the kid.
"Sixteen, Asian, short black hair, about five-three, probably wearing a pair of
roller blades."
The young man shook his head as he handed Scott back the picture. "Nope, sorry.
You might wanna ask Betty," he suggested, pointing toward the back, where a
middle-aged woman stood behind a small deli counter. "She was workin' most of
yesterday."
"Thanks." Scott walked to the back of the store.
"Afternoon," Betty said with a smile. "What can I get'cha?"
"I was hoping you may have seen this girl pass through here," Scott said,
holding out the photograph as he described Jubilee once more.
"Lemme put on m'glasses," Betty said, pulling them on from where they hung
around her neck. She took the photo from him and studied it carefully. "Nope,
she don't look familiar. Sorry. Pretty gal, though," she said, handing the photo
back. "She gone missin'?"
Scott nodded. "For almost a day. My wife and I have been looking for her."
"You mean that pretty redhead who came in right before you to use the
facilities?"
"Yes, that's her."
"You two look awful young to have a teenaged kid."
"She's our foster daughter."
Betty nodded knowingly. "Well, I hope you find her."
"Thanks." He started to turn to leave.
"Can I get'cha somethin' for the road?"
Scott hesitated. Turning back, he peered into the deli counter, considering.
A short time later, he returned to the car, a small bag in tow. Jean was already
waiting.
"They haven't seen her," Scott said, putting the bag on the seat between them.
"What's that?" Jean asked as she fastened her seat belt.
"I figured you hadn't eaten since this morning, so I got you a sandwich," he
replied, pulling out what looked like a hero. "Hope turkey's okay. I got you a
tea, too," he said, putting the cardboard container in the cup holder. "Oh, and
some Advil for your headache," he said, handing her a small foil package.
Jean looked at him in amazement. "Did you get anything?"
"A bottle of water," Scott replied, removing it from the bag and taking a swig.
"What about to eat?"
"I'm fine," he replied, fastening his own seat belt and starting the car.
Jean looked down at the sandwich in her lap. "Scott, I'll never be able to eat
all this. Why don't we split it?"
"That's okay, Jean. You have it." He pulled the car back out of the space and
drove back onto the road.
"Don't be silly. I'm not the only one who hasn't eaten since this morning. You
won't do Jubilee any good if you start hallucinating with hunger."
He smiled at that. "All right."
"Good." She put her half on the paper bag, and placed the other half next to
him. "Can you reach okay?"
"Yeah, that's fine." As he reached for the sandwich, his hand grazed hers. He
glanced over at Jean, and she graced him with a small smile.
"Thanks, Scott."
"No problem," he said, returning the smile. Well, it was a start.
*****
As dusk approached, Jean felt her hope sink. They had called Hank an hour
earlier. Ororo and Rogue had already returned to the mansion, exhausted, their
search fruitless. Bobby and Remy had likewise turned up nothing; at the time,
they still had a handful of buildings to canvas. They would probably be back by
now. Hank, too, had learned nothing.
Jean leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes, exhausted. "How much longer do
you want to continue?" she asked Scott.
"It's up to you, Jean. I'll keep at it as long as you want to."
Eyes still closed, Jean smiled. "How about another half hour?"
"That sounds--what the hell?"
Jean sensed Scott's surprise a moment before his exclamation. Opening her eyes,
she looked out at the road. In the distance, they could see flashing red and
blue lights. There must have been an accident.
Slowing down, Scott drove until he reached a makeshift barricade of police cars.
Several yards ahead of them, they could make out two more police cars, as well
as an ambulance. On the side of the road, a sedan had evidently plowed headfirst
into a tree, totaling the car.
"Looks bad," Scott remarked, staring out at the carnage. "I wonder if--"
The slamming of the car door cut off his words. Scott turned and watched in
surprise as Jean started jogging toward the accident scene. He quickly
unfastened his seat belt and opened his own door. "Jean?" he called to her.
"Jean!"
But Jean was not listening. She had a single-minded goal at that moment: to
reach the car wreck and see it with her own eyes. As they had approached, she
had gotten a sense of something--like a psychic fingerprint left behind. She
only hoped she were wrong.
Jean ducked under the yellow police line tape. A cop approached her, but with a
wave of her hand, she pushed him aside telekinetically. She did not have time
for distractions.
On the asphalt, she saw tire tracks, leading toward the tree. There were also
smaller skid marks--like those made by a bike. Or skates. They led in the
opposite direction, toward the metal divider. And they ended in a pool of blood.
"Ma'am, what are you doing here? This is a crime scene."
Jean ignored the burly police officer, instead focusing on the blood. And
something beside it. Something glittering in the flashing police lights.
"Ma'am? I'm gonna have to ask you to leave."
Jean walked slowly towards the blood and mystery object. The cop quickly gave
chase.
Bending down, Jean saw a gold necklace. On it was a pendant. A script 'J' with a
tiny diamond in the center. Jean stared at it in disbelief, blinking back tears.
Jean reached for the necklace, took the thin chain in her fingers.
"What the hell are you doing?" the cop shouted, grabbing Jean's arm. "That's
evidence. Don't touch it. Really, ma'am, you're gonna have to leave now." He
roughly hoisted her to her feet.
"Jean!" Scott shouted, approaching her, two more cops on his tail. "Jean, what's
going on?"
Jean stared up at Scott, mouth trembling.
"Jean? Honey, you've gone white as a sheet," Scott said, walking closer and
taking her by the shoulders. "What's wrong?"
Silently, Jean held up her hand. The chain dangled from her fingers.
At first, Scott stared down at the necklace, brow furrowed in confusion. But
then he caught sight of the familiar pendant. He reached for it, let it fall
against his palm so that he could get a better look. "Oh God," he gasped, his
heart in his throat.
"Sir, if you two don't cease and desist immediately, I will be forced to have
you both arrested."
"You- you don't understand, officer," Scott rasped, his voice sounding like
sandpaper in his own ears. "That necklace . . . it belongs to our foster
daughter."
The cop's eyes widened. "You sure 'bout that?"
Jean nodded. "We gave it to her a couple of months ago."
At that moment, two EMS workers were headed toward the ambulance, wheeling a
gurney between them. The body on it was covered by a bloodstained sheet.
"Dear God, no!" Jean gasped, hand flying to her mouth.
Scott took a step toward her, his hand reaching for her back to steady her.
Without another word, Jean headed toward the stretcher. After a few strides, she
broke into a run. "Wait!" she called to them.
Confused, the paramedics stopped and turned to look at Jean.
Approaching the body, Jean swallowed, summoning her courage. With a shaky hand,
she reached for the sheet.
"Jean!" Scott called, hurrying toward her.
Before the paramedics could say or do anything, Jean pulled back the sheet,
revealing the face of the victim.
The right side of the head was caked with blood, and the skull looked somewhat
sunken. The nose appeared broken, pushed to the side in an unnatural position.
But despite these disfiguring injuries, the blonde-haired face was distinctly
male.
Jean took an unsteady step backwards, and fell to her knees before anyone could
react. A moment later, Scott was beside her, holding her.
"It's not her," Jean gasped, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Scott looked over her shoulder at the corpse. He could not help but sigh in
relief.
"It's not her," Jean sobbed. "Oh, Scott, it's not her."
"I know," Scott replied, tucking her head under his chin and resting his cheek
on her hair.
"That was the driver." Scott looked up to see the cop who had just questioned
them about the necklace. The officer gestured to the paramedics, and they
covered the corpse before proceeding to load it into the ambulance. "Won't know
for sure till the blood work comes back, but from the empty beer cans in the
back seat, we suspect he was DUI."
"What about Jubilee?" Scott asked him, even as he continued to hold Jean, whose
sobs were finally beginning to subside. "What about our foster daughter?"
"Looks like she was skating down the road when the car struck her. From the
marks, don't look like it was going too fast at the time. Probably started
braking, or turned to try to avoid hitting her, when it impacted. In either
case, she got thrown across the highway, while the car hit the tree. Driver was
killed instantly."
"And Jubilee?" Scott prompted, growing annoyed. "What happened to her? Is she
all right?"
"Banged up a bit. Big cut on her head, bleeding like the dickens. But head
wounds tend to do that. Probably got a concussion, too. She was unconscious when
they took her to the hospital."
"So she's alive?"
"Yeah."
"Thank God," Scott sighed, offering a silent prayer. "What hospital was she
taken to?"
End Chapter 20
*****