Author's Note:
Okay, this chapter ended up being another song fic, and because I'm a big dork I used the song "With Arms Wide Open" by Creed. I'm not really a Creed fan and I know the song is really overused, but I think it accurately portrays the way new parents feel upon the discovery of a pregnancy. Just disregard the fact that the song is from a male perspective and it will all make sense. Please, please, please review. I really do use the comments you make in crafting and shaping my story. Enjoy!
~ * ~
Well I just heard the news today
It seems my life is going to change
I closed my eyes, begin to pray
Then tears of joy stream down my face
With arms wide open
Under the sunlight
Welcome to this place
I'll show you everything
With arms wide open
Jean stared at her naked body in the mirror, examining every inch of her fair skin. Luckily, she looked the same; her breasts were a little larger and her face a tiny bit fuller, but there was still no noticeable swelling where her child was growing inside her. She let out a sigh of relief, reassured that her pregnancy was still unrecognizable to everyone but herself.
"What am I going to do?" Jean said out loud, collapsing on her bed. It had been two months since her discovery, and she still had no idea how to handle it. Her life was like a soap opera: a happy marriage interrupted by a brooding loner; a passionate affair to break the monotony of holy matrimony; an unplanned pregnancy with questionable paternity. She need to talk to someone about this, needed to vent and analyze and figure out a way solution to the mess she'd gotten herself into.
~ * ~
Well I don't know if I'm ready
To be the man I have to be
I'll take a breath, take her by my side
We stand in awe, we've created life
There was one major problem: she didn't know whom to turn to. Ororo was her best friend, but she was also Scott's confidant; she didn't know how to lie if her life depended on it. There was Betsey, with her experience and sexual knowledge, but Betsey was also an insufferable bitch who'd be more than happy to broadcast the great Jean Grey's fall from grace; there was always Emma Frost, but no one with half a brain told the White Queen her deepest secrets, not if she wanted to keep her sanity intact. That only left Rogue; beautiful, naïve, stubborn Rogue. She found Rogue in her garden, a southern beauty sitting amongst a million flowers, carefully trimming her rose bushes. She wasn't close to Rogue; she never had been. But Rogue, with her stable marriage and three-year-old son seemed like her best shot at some good advice. It was ironic; Rogue, with her untouchable skin and hardened heart was now the most normal person in the school. A genetic mutation as a result of pregnancy had helped her control her powers; the love of a determined man had melted her frozen emotions; and now Rogue was easily the happiest person Jean knew.
"Rogue, can I talk to you?" Jean whispered softly, her eyes downcast. "It's really important."
Rogue glanced up, pushing up the brim of her straw hat so she could see her visitor. Shielding her eyes from the blistering summer sun, she smiled warmly at her guest. "Sure," Rogue responded in her deep southern drawl. "As long as ya willin' to work, we can talk."
"Of course," Jean agreed, pulling on a pair of work gloves and attacking the dandelions poking their golden heads through the fresh soil.
"What's on ya mind, sugah?" Rogue asked. "It's too nice a day ta be upset," she added, gesturing towards the cloudless sky and brilliant sun.
"It's complicated. I. . . I don't know how to explain."
"Start at the beginnin'. That usually works."
"You know. . .about me and Logan."
Rogue didn't skip a beat, carefully pruning excess leaves from her roses. "Remy told me. It's a mean thing ya doin', Jean."
"I'm pregnant."
Rogue sucked in a breath, her mind no longer on her roses, but on the woman beside her. "Are ya sure?"
"Positive. I took two home pregnancy tests and performed a blood test. All three were positive."
"Have ya told Scott?"
"I. . .I can't."
"Why not?"
Jean stopped weeding as the tears once again pooled in her eyes. She mentally cursed herself for being so pathetic; she'd cried more in the last two months than the rest of her life combined.
"Jean?"
Jean stared at the flowers, at their simplicity and beauty. Why couldn't her life be like that? Why did she have to be stupid, weak? Why did she have to give in to something she knew was wrong? Why had she let herself get caught? "I can't tell Scott," she finally answered. "Because I'm not sure he's the father."
Rogue didn't say anything for a long time. "What are ya goin' ta do?"
"I don't know. Rogue. . . that's why I wanted to talk to you."
"Me? How can Ah help?"
"You're married with a child. You've been through this before. I don't know what to do, if I want to keep this child or let it go-."
"Ya mean an abortion?"
"Yes, an abortion. I don't see how it's fair that I raise a child whose paternity I'm unsure--of especially if I'm not sure I even deserve this child. I'm so irresponsible--."
"No ya not."
"Yes, I am. I wouldn't be in this position if I were responsible. But no, I got so wrapped up in the passion and how good it felt that I forgot to be careful. And now I'm paying for it."
"A baby is a blessin', Jean. Ya think Ah wanted Jean-Luc when Ah first found out Ah was havin' him? I was terrified out of mah mind."
"But you love him now. I see you with him; he's your world."
"Now he is. But when Ah first discovered Ah was pregnant, the last thing Ah wanted was a baby. Ah was twenty-two, alone, and unable ta control mah powers. Ah was so afraid Ah'd kill my baby if Ah touched him."
"So what changed?"
"Ah fell in love with the life grown' inside me. Each day, as mah belly would get bigga and Ah'd feel him kick more and more, Ah couldn't imagine mah life without him. Ah was angry and tired and lonely, but Ah knew Ah loved my baby, and Ah really think that's what pulled me through. When Ah abandoned Remy--Ah wanted ta die; he was the only person who'd ever really loved me, and Ah left him ta die. Ah thought about killin' myself a lot-an Ah firmly believe that if it wasn't for my baby, Ah would have gone through with it. It didn't seem fair ta give up on mah life, not when Ah had someone else depending on me like that. Ah could die, not when Ah had this little boy, this part of Remy ta love."
"And now you have Remy and your baby."
"And another one on the way," Rogue added, gently rubbing her six-months-pregnant stomach. "It will all work out in tha end. Look at me, Jean. Ah used ta be an untouchable bitch with a big stick up my ass, but now Ah'm happier than Ah've ever been. Ah have a man who loves me, a healthy, happy child. If mah life could turn out this way, yours will to."
"No it won't; nothing good ever happens to me," Jean disagreed. "Rogue, what do I do about this baby's father? It's not an issue of love; I already know I love my baby. But how do I raise this child not knowing whose blood is running through his veins?"
Rogue thought for a minute, twirling an auburn curl around her finger as she contemplated. "Are ya sure ya don't know the father?"
"I'm positive. I'd like to think it's Scott, but I have a nagging feeling it's Logan."
"But ya don't know for sure?"
"No. . .I mean, time wise it could be either one of them; I've never given Scott any reason to think I was being unfaithful. But at the same time I was more wild, more uninhibited with Logan. It could just as easily be him."
"Jean?" Rogue asked softly. "What if it is Logan? Could Scott raise another man's child?"
Jean slowly picked the flowers off a daisy, unsure of how to answer the question. "I don't know. I'd like to say he would, but you know what kind of man he is; honor and honesty are so important to him. I don't think he'd ever really get over this; on the surface he might love this child, but I don't know if he'd ever think of it as his own. And he'd never forgive me, not ever. If he did for some reason accept my child, he would never feel the same about me again."
"Ah can't say Ah'd blame him."
"I wouldn't either. Rogue?"
"Yeah, sugah?"
"How did you get Remy to forgive you? After you left him in Antarctica?"
It was Rogue's turn to be silent as the darkest, cruelest choice of her life was revisited. "Ah'm never really sure. Sometimes Ah think it's because he loves me, other times Ah think it's because of Jean-Luc. Ah don't really know, but Ah don't really care. As long as Ah have him with me, Ah don't care why."
"I wish I could say the same about Scott. But I'm still questioning if I want to be with him."
"He's ya husband."
"I know. But I sometimes wonder why I married him. I mean, do I love him or is just a habit? I've been with him since I was sixteen; maybe I don't know what it's like to live without Scott and I'm too afraid to try."
"What does Logan think?"
"Has he discussed this with you?"
"No. . . but Ah sure ya have."
"That's the problem: it's not just sex with us. I can tell him everything, things I can't tell Scott."
"Like what?"
"Like that I don't want to be an X-Woman for the rest of my life. Sometime in the near future I want to settle down, have a bunch of kids, and start a medical practice. That doesn't mean I don't want to continue to fight for mutant causes and equal rights, but playing a superhero gets old; I can't see myself saving the world for the rest of my life."
"An Scott disagrees?"
"Scott wants to wear spandex until he's too old to squeeze himself into his uniform. He can't see a life without missions and fighting and powers. This baby was a wake-up call to me about the problems in our marriage; we don't want the same things anymore. And I don't know how we can live together if we can't agree on how to spend the rest of our lives."
"An Logan?" Rogue gently prodded.
"Logan," Jean sighed. "Logan wants what I want. He hates the violence, the really does. But it's a so much a part of him that he can't separate himself from the pain and hurt of his past. He doesn't know how to live a life without violence-."
"Like when he threatens ta rip open ma husband's gut with those claws of his every time he loses a hand of poker?"
"Yes; it's a natural defense mechanism for him: fight pain with pain. But with me he's different; I see this beautiful, tender side of him. He writes me poetry, you know. He doesn't think I know, but I hear him reading it to me when he thinks I'm asleep. It took me months to break down his walls, but once I got inside I never want to leave. I know he'll love this baby, but I also know he can live without it. I'm not sure Scott can live with the knowledge that he's raising his greatest rival's child."
"So ya willin' to deny Logan his child?"
"I don't think I have a choice, not if I want to save my marriage."
"Why are ya workin' so hard on this marriage? Tha way ya describe it--it doesn't sound like ya really want to fix it."
Jean sighed. "I don't know what I want anymore. I love Scott, I really do. But sometimes love isn't enough. Maybe we rushed into this, got married because it was what was expected of us, not what we really wanted."
"Ah can't tell ya what ta do."
"I know you can't. But could you give me some advice: what would you do in my shoes?
Rogue stared at her in disbelief. "Ya serious?"
"Very."
"Ah can't answer that question. Ah've never been in that situation. When Ah got pregnant, it was under totally different circumstances."
"But if you were in my situation, what would you do?"
"Ah can't imagine life without mah baby. Once Hank laid mah little boy in mah arms, Ah knew Ah could never let him go."
"So you think I should keep the baby?"
"Ah think ya should do what's in ya heart. Jean, Ah don't think this baby is the issue. Its father is."
"What should I do about Logan and Scott?"
"What's right. Take a good look at ya marriage before ya throw it away. Once you let it go, ya can't get it back. Make sure it's worth losin'. And then decide what ta do about this baby. Do you want Scott to raise it, whether ya know who the father is or not? Or do ya want ta put he and Logan through the ringer by making them guess which one it is?"
"I don't know."
"Think about it, Jean; do what ya think is right. That's the only advice Ah can give ya."
Rogue turned back to her roses and Jean sat beside her in content silence, thinking about what to do. Rogue was right: she loved her baby; that wasn't the problem. But its father was causing her too much grief. She honestly didn't know who the father was, but deep down she hoped it was Logan. Spawning of new generation of do-gooder, Boy Scouts didn't appeal to her; she wanted her children to be independent, smart, and clever. She wanted them to have minds of their own; in other words, she wanted them to be like Logan. But she also knew that even if Logan were the baby's father, he'd let her do what she wanted, even if it meant letting Scott raise his child. As she'd explained to him in their last agonizing encounter, they had to make sacrifices for the Dream. If they thought news of their affair would hurt Scott, knowing they'd created a child together would kill him. And if Scott was an emotional disaster, the leadership, the strength, the unity of the team would disappear--and they'd be useless as fighters of prejudice. She had to put the team first, and that meant staying with Scott and letting him believe that he, and only he, could be the baby's father.
"Thanks for the advice, Rogue," Jean said as she rose, brushing the dirt off her jeans as she stood.
"Did ya find what ya were looking for? Ah hoped Ah've helped some."
"Actually, you helped a lot. I know what I need to do now."
"Ah hope it works out."
"I do too, Rogue," Jean replied. "I'll see you later," she added as she picked her way out of the garden, careful to avoid Rogue's flowers.
"Remember dinner tonight!" Rogue called after Jean's retreating form. "Remy's cookin' Gumbo, and it's gonna be delicious!" she said with a smack of her lips. "Ya don't wanna miss it!"
"Thanks for the reminder. I'll be there."
"Ah hope Scott comes too."
"We'll see. See you tonight."
"Bye, Jean. And good luck!"
"Thanks," Jean said to herself as she walked away. "I'll need all I can get."
With arms wide open
Under the sunlight
Welcome to this place
I'll show you everything
With arms wide open
Now everything has changed
I'll show you love
I'll show you everything
With arms wide open
~ * ~
If I had just one wish
Only one demand
I hope he's not like me
I hope he understands
That he can take this life
And hold it by the hand
And he can greet the world
With arms wide open...
Jean was sitting at her kitchen table, nursing a cup of herbal tea when Scott came bursting in, a huge smile on his face. Without a word he picked her up and spun her around, her long hair flying around his laughing face. "What's going on Scott? Did we win the lottery?"
"No, silly," he answered, his smile only growing larger. "We're having a baby!. . .but you knew that already."
"Scott, put me down."
"Did I hurt you? Did I hurt the baby?" he asked, the concern evident in his voice.
"No, I'm. . .we're fine. I just think we should rationally discuss this."
"Jean, what's there to discuss? We're having a baby! I mean, yeah, I'm a little annoyed that you didn't tell me, but I don't care anymore. I'm to happy to be angry."
"How did you find out?"
"By accident. Hank discovered that someone had run an anonymous pregnancy test in the lab. He asked me to help him figure out who it was, in case one of the students was in trouble and needed help, and when we investigated, all trails led to you."
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you."
"I don't really mind, I mean, I'm sure you have your reasons. But why didn't you? This was something we should have shared together; I wish I could have been there from the beginning."
Jean sighed and sat down in her chair, the tea now gone cold. "I wasn't sure how you would feel about the baby."
"What do you mean?" Scott asked, sitting down across from her, his face a portrait of confusion. Jean wanted to cry at the concern in his eyes. He was such a good, loving man; he didn't deserve what she'd done to him.
"I didn't know if you wanted a baby."
"Jean, we've been preparation for this forever. I mean, sure we could have planned this better, but you know we've always we've wanted children."
"I know. . .but we've only been married for a little over a year. We hadn't talked about having a child now; I wasn't sure it was the right time."
"A baby is a blessing," Scott said, sounding eerily like Rogue had a few hours before. "It's always the right time. Jean, we have a happy, stable marriage; we're self-sufficient; we're smart and responsible and loving; we're ready for a baby."
"Are you positive?" Jean asked, reaching across the table for Scott's hand. "Is this really what you want?" He reached up and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, lightly caressing her cheek with the back of his hand.
"We've created life," he whispered. "This child is a piece of us, of you and me. It represents all our hopes and dreams for the future, of a peaceful, unprejudiced world. I've never wanted anything more than I want this baby."
"I love you," Jean breathed tearfully. "I want this baby too; I'm just so scared."
"Don't be," he said, pushing his chair back so he could get up and hold his crying wife. "We're going to do this right, Jean. I can't promise that we'll be the best parents on earth, but we'll be the best parents we can be. As long as we have each other, we can't go wrong."
Jean clung tighter to his chest, burying her head in his strong neck. In spite of everything she really did love Scott, really did need him--just as much as she needed Logan. Maybe this baby really was for the best; maybe it was just what they needed to bring themselves back together. Scott was right: as long as they had each other, nothing could go wrong--until the day Scott learned the truth.
Okay, this chapter ended up being another song fic, and because I'm a big dork I used the song "With Arms Wide Open" by Creed. I'm not really a Creed fan and I know the song is really overused, but I think it accurately portrays the way new parents feel upon the discovery of a pregnancy. Just disregard the fact that the song is from a male perspective and it will all make sense. Please, please, please review. I really do use the comments you make in crafting and shaping my story. Enjoy!
~ * ~
Well I just heard the news today
It seems my life is going to change
I closed my eyes, begin to pray
Then tears of joy stream down my face
With arms wide open
Under the sunlight
Welcome to this place
I'll show you everything
With arms wide open
Jean stared at her naked body in the mirror, examining every inch of her fair skin. Luckily, she looked the same; her breasts were a little larger and her face a tiny bit fuller, but there was still no noticeable swelling where her child was growing inside her. She let out a sigh of relief, reassured that her pregnancy was still unrecognizable to everyone but herself.
"What am I going to do?" Jean said out loud, collapsing on her bed. It had been two months since her discovery, and she still had no idea how to handle it. Her life was like a soap opera: a happy marriage interrupted by a brooding loner; a passionate affair to break the monotony of holy matrimony; an unplanned pregnancy with questionable paternity. She need to talk to someone about this, needed to vent and analyze and figure out a way solution to the mess she'd gotten herself into.
~ * ~
Well I don't know if I'm ready
To be the man I have to be
I'll take a breath, take her by my side
We stand in awe, we've created life
There was one major problem: she didn't know whom to turn to. Ororo was her best friend, but she was also Scott's confidant; she didn't know how to lie if her life depended on it. There was Betsey, with her experience and sexual knowledge, but Betsey was also an insufferable bitch who'd be more than happy to broadcast the great Jean Grey's fall from grace; there was always Emma Frost, but no one with half a brain told the White Queen her deepest secrets, not if she wanted to keep her sanity intact. That only left Rogue; beautiful, naïve, stubborn Rogue. She found Rogue in her garden, a southern beauty sitting amongst a million flowers, carefully trimming her rose bushes. She wasn't close to Rogue; she never had been. But Rogue, with her stable marriage and three-year-old son seemed like her best shot at some good advice. It was ironic; Rogue, with her untouchable skin and hardened heart was now the most normal person in the school. A genetic mutation as a result of pregnancy had helped her control her powers; the love of a determined man had melted her frozen emotions; and now Rogue was easily the happiest person Jean knew.
"Rogue, can I talk to you?" Jean whispered softly, her eyes downcast. "It's really important."
Rogue glanced up, pushing up the brim of her straw hat so she could see her visitor. Shielding her eyes from the blistering summer sun, she smiled warmly at her guest. "Sure," Rogue responded in her deep southern drawl. "As long as ya willin' to work, we can talk."
"Of course," Jean agreed, pulling on a pair of work gloves and attacking the dandelions poking their golden heads through the fresh soil.
"What's on ya mind, sugah?" Rogue asked. "It's too nice a day ta be upset," she added, gesturing towards the cloudless sky and brilliant sun.
"It's complicated. I. . . I don't know how to explain."
"Start at the beginnin'. That usually works."
"You know. . .about me and Logan."
Rogue didn't skip a beat, carefully pruning excess leaves from her roses. "Remy told me. It's a mean thing ya doin', Jean."
"I'm pregnant."
Rogue sucked in a breath, her mind no longer on her roses, but on the woman beside her. "Are ya sure?"
"Positive. I took two home pregnancy tests and performed a blood test. All three were positive."
"Have ya told Scott?"
"I. . .I can't."
"Why not?"
Jean stopped weeding as the tears once again pooled in her eyes. She mentally cursed herself for being so pathetic; she'd cried more in the last two months than the rest of her life combined.
"Jean?"
Jean stared at the flowers, at their simplicity and beauty. Why couldn't her life be like that? Why did she have to be stupid, weak? Why did she have to give in to something she knew was wrong? Why had she let herself get caught? "I can't tell Scott," she finally answered. "Because I'm not sure he's the father."
Rogue didn't say anything for a long time. "What are ya goin' ta do?"
"I don't know. Rogue. . . that's why I wanted to talk to you."
"Me? How can Ah help?"
"You're married with a child. You've been through this before. I don't know what to do, if I want to keep this child or let it go-."
"Ya mean an abortion?"
"Yes, an abortion. I don't see how it's fair that I raise a child whose paternity I'm unsure--of especially if I'm not sure I even deserve this child. I'm so irresponsible--."
"No ya not."
"Yes, I am. I wouldn't be in this position if I were responsible. But no, I got so wrapped up in the passion and how good it felt that I forgot to be careful. And now I'm paying for it."
"A baby is a blessin', Jean. Ya think Ah wanted Jean-Luc when Ah first found out Ah was havin' him? I was terrified out of mah mind."
"But you love him now. I see you with him; he's your world."
"Now he is. But when Ah first discovered Ah was pregnant, the last thing Ah wanted was a baby. Ah was twenty-two, alone, and unable ta control mah powers. Ah was so afraid Ah'd kill my baby if Ah touched him."
"So what changed?"
"Ah fell in love with the life grown' inside me. Each day, as mah belly would get bigga and Ah'd feel him kick more and more, Ah couldn't imagine mah life without him. Ah was angry and tired and lonely, but Ah knew Ah loved my baby, and Ah really think that's what pulled me through. When Ah abandoned Remy--Ah wanted ta die; he was the only person who'd ever really loved me, and Ah left him ta die. Ah thought about killin' myself a lot-an Ah firmly believe that if it wasn't for my baby, Ah would have gone through with it. It didn't seem fair ta give up on mah life, not when Ah had someone else depending on me like that. Ah could die, not when Ah had this little boy, this part of Remy ta love."
"And now you have Remy and your baby."
"And another one on the way," Rogue added, gently rubbing her six-months-pregnant stomach. "It will all work out in tha end. Look at me, Jean. Ah used ta be an untouchable bitch with a big stick up my ass, but now Ah'm happier than Ah've ever been. Ah have a man who loves me, a healthy, happy child. If mah life could turn out this way, yours will to."
"No it won't; nothing good ever happens to me," Jean disagreed. "Rogue, what do I do about this baby's father? It's not an issue of love; I already know I love my baby. But how do I raise this child not knowing whose blood is running through his veins?"
Rogue thought for a minute, twirling an auburn curl around her finger as she contemplated. "Are ya sure ya don't know the father?"
"I'm positive. I'd like to think it's Scott, but I have a nagging feeling it's Logan."
"But ya don't know for sure?"
"No. . .I mean, time wise it could be either one of them; I've never given Scott any reason to think I was being unfaithful. But at the same time I was more wild, more uninhibited with Logan. It could just as easily be him."
"Jean?" Rogue asked softly. "What if it is Logan? Could Scott raise another man's child?"
Jean slowly picked the flowers off a daisy, unsure of how to answer the question. "I don't know. I'd like to say he would, but you know what kind of man he is; honor and honesty are so important to him. I don't think he'd ever really get over this; on the surface he might love this child, but I don't know if he'd ever think of it as his own. And he'd never forgive me, not ever. If he did for some reason accept my child, he would never feel the same about me again."
"Ah can't say Ah'd blame him."
"I wouldn't either. Rogue?"
"Yeah, sugah?"
"How did you get Remy to forgive you? After you left him in Antarctica?"
It was Rogue's turn to be silent as the darkest, cruelest choice of her life was revisited. "Ah'm never really sure. Sometimes Ah think it's because he loves me, other times Ah think it's because of Jean-Luc. Ah don't really know, but Ah don't really care. As long as Ah have him with me, Ah don't care why."
"I wish I could say the same about Scott. But I'm still questioning if I want to be with him."
"He's ya husband."
"I know. But I sometimes wonder why I married him. I mean, do I love him or is just a habit? I've been with him since I was sixteen; maybe I don't know what it's like to live without Scott and I'm too afraid to try."
"What does Logan think?"
"Has he discussed this with you?"
"No. . . but Ah sure ya have."
"That's the problem: it's not just sex with us. I can tell him everything, things I can't tell Scott."
"Like what?"
"Like that I don't want to be an X-Woman for the rest of my life. Sometime in the near future I want to settle down, have a bunch of kids, and start a medical practice. That doesn't mean I don't want to continue to fight for mutant causes and equal rights, but playing a superhero gets old; I can't see myself saving the world for the rest of my life."
"An Scott disagrees?"
"Scott wants to wear spandex until he's too old to squeeze himself into his uniform. He can't see a life without missions and fighting and powers. This baby was a wake-up call to me about the problems in our marriage; we don't want the same things anymore. And I don't know how we can live together if we can't agree on how to spend the rest of our lives."
"An Logan?" Rogue gently prodded.
"Logan," Jean sighed. "Logan wants what I want. He hates the violence, the really does. But it's a so much a part of him that he can't separate himself from the pain and hurt of his past. He doesn't know how to live a life without violence-."
"Like when he threatens ta rip open ma husband's gut with those claws of his every time he loses a hand of poker?"
"Yes; it's a natural defense mechanism for him: fight pain with pain. But with me he's different; I see this beautiful, tender side of him. He writes me poetry, you know. He doesn't think I know, but I hear him reading it to me when he thinks I'm asleep. It took me months to break down his walls, but once I got inside I never want to leave. I know he'll love this baby, but I also know he can live without it. I'm not sure Scott can live with the knowledge that he's raising his greatest rival's child."
"So ya willin' to deny Logan his child?"
"I don't think I have a choice, not if I want to save my marriage."
"Why are ya workin' so hard on this marriage? Tha way ya describe it--it doesn't sound like ya really want to fix it."
Jean sighed. "I don't know what I want anymore. I love Scott, I really do. But sometimes love isn't enough. Maybe we rushed into this, got married because it was what was expected of us, not what we really wanted."
"Ah can't tell ya what ta do."
"I know you can't. But could you give me some advice: what would you do in my shoes?
Rogue stared at her in disbelief. "Ya serious?"
"Very."
"Ah can't answer that question. Ah've never been in that situation. When Ah got pregnant, it was under totally different circumstances."
"But if you were in my situation, what would you do?"
"Ah can't imagine life without mah baby. Once Hank laid mah little boy in mah arms, Ah knew Ah could never let him go."
"So you think I should keep the baby?"
"Ah think ya should do what's in ya heart. Jean, Ah don't think this baby is the issue. Its father is."
"What should I do about Logan and Scott?"
"What's right. Take a good look at ya marriage before ya throw it away. Once you let it go, ya can't get it back. Make sure it's worth losin'. And then decide what ta do about this baby. Do you want Scott to raise it, whether ya know who the father is or not? Or do ya want ta put he and Logan through the ringer by making them guess which one it is?"
"I don't know."
"Think about it, Jean; do what ya think is right. That's the only advice Ah can give ya."
Rogue turned back to her roses and Jean sat beside her in content silence, thinking about what to do. Rogue was right: she loved her baby; that wasn't the problem. But its father was causing her too much grief. She honestly didn't know who the father was, but deep down she hoped it was Logan. Spawning of new generation of do-gooder, Boy Scouts didn't appeal to her; she wanted her children to be independent, smart, and clever. She wanted them to have minds of their own; in other words, she wanted them to be like Logan. But she also knew that even if Logan were the baby's father, he'd let her do what she wanted, even if it meant letting Scott raise his child. As she'd explained to him in their last agonizing encounter, they had to make sacrifices for the Dream. If they thought news of their affair would hurt Scott, knowing they'd created a child together would kill him. And if Scott was an emotional disaster, the leadership, the strength, the unity of the team would disappear--and they'd be useless as fighters of prejudice. She had to put the team first, and that meant staying with Scott and letting him believe that he, and only he, could be the baby's father.
"Thanks for the advice, Rogue," Jean said as she rose, brushing the dirt off her jeans as she stood.
"Did ya find what ya were looking for? Ah hoped Ah've helped some."
"Actually, you helped a lot. I know what I need to do now."
"Ah hope it works out."
"I do too, Rogue," Jean replied. "I'll see you later," she added as she picked her way out of the garden, careful to avoid Rogue's flowers.
"Remember dinner tonight!" Rogue called after Jean's retreating form. "Remy's cookin' Gumbo, and it's gonna be delicious!" she said with a smack of her lips. "Ya don't wanna miss it!"
"Thanks for the reminder. I'll be there."
"Ah hope Scott comes too."
"We'll see. See you tonight."
"Bye, Jean. And good luck!"
"Thanks," Jean said to herself as she walked away. "I'll need all I can get."
With arms wide open
Under the sunlight
Welcome to this place
I'll show you everything
With arms wide open
Now everything has changed
I'll show you love
I'll show you everything
With arms wide open
~ * ~
If I had just one wish
Only one demand
I hope he's not like me
I hope he understands
That he can take this life
And hold it by the hand
And he can greet the world
With arms wide open...
Jean was sitting at her kitchen table, nursing a cup of herbal tea when Scott came bursting in, a huge smile on his face. Without a word he picked her up and spun her around, her long hair flying around his laughing face. "What's going on Scott? Did we win the lottery?"
"No, silly," he answered, his smile only growing larger. "We're having a baby!. . .but you knew that already."
"Scott, put me down."
"Did I hurt you? Did I hurt the baby?" he asked, the concern evident in his voice.
"No, I'm. . .we're fine. I just think we should rationally discuss this."
"Jean, what's there to discuss? We're having a baby! I mean, yeah, I'm a little annoyed that you didn't tell me, but I don't care anymore. I'm to happy to be angry."
"How did you find out?"
"By accident. Hank discovered that someone had run an anonymous pregnancy test in the lab. He asked me to help him figure out who it was, in case one of the students was in trouble and needed help, and when we investigated, all trails led to you."
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you."
"I don't really mind, I mean, I'm sure you have your reasons. But why didn't you? This was something we should have shared together; I wish I could have been there from the beginning."
Jean sighed and sat down in her chair, the tea now gone cold. "I wasn't sure how you would feel about the baby."
"What do you mean?" Scott asked, sitting down across from her, his face a portrait of confusion. Jean wanted to cry at the concern in his eyes. He was such a good, loving man; he didn't deserve what she'd done to him.
"I didn't know if you wanted a baby."
"Jean, we've been preparation for this forever. I mean, sure we could have planned this better, but you know we've always we've wanted children."
"I know. . .but we've only been married for a little over a year. We hadn't talked about having a child now; I wasn't sure it was the right time."
"A baby is a blessing," Scott said, sounding eerily like Rogue had a few hours before. "It's always the right time. Jean, we have a happy, stable marriage; we're self-sufficient; we're smart and responsible and loving; we're ready for a baby."
"Are you positive?" Jean asked, reaching across the table for Scott's hand. "Is this really what you want?" He reached up and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, lightly caressing her cheek with the back of his hand.
"We've created life," he whispered. "This child is a piece of us, of you and me. It represents all our hopes and dreams for the future, of a peaceful, unprejudiced world. I've never wanted anything more than I want this baby."
"I love you," Jean breathed tearfully. "I want this baby too; I'm just so scared."
"Don't be," he said, pushing his chair back so he could get up and hold his crying wife. "We're going to do this right, Jean. I can't promise that we'll be the best parents on earth, but we'll be the best parents we can be. As long as we have each other, we can't go wrong."
Jean clung tighter to his chest, burying her head in his strong neck. In spite of everything she really did love Scott, really did need him--just as much as she needed Logan. Maybe this baby really was for the best; maybe it was just what they needed to bring themselves back together. Scott was right: as long as they had each other, nothing could go wrong--until the day Scott learned the truth.