Rebirth and Awakenings


Chapter 11

Three months before graduation, Scott stood in the sports field, surveying the wreckage of the bleachers. All he could think of was 'why me?' and 'why the bleachers?'. Once again, a wrong move sent his glasses askew. Once again, Ororo was, thankfully, the only other witness. Which was bad enough, because she'd never let him forget it.

They didn't even consider hiding the event from the Professor. Apart from questioning whether Scott had malevolent feelings towards the bleachers, Professor Xavier said nothing. Daniel merely snickered and Lorna wanted to go see the damage. But then, Lorna wanted to see the high school all the time; she was looking forward to going back to school. However, rather than start her mid-semester, the Professor decided to tutor her for the rest of the school year and have Lorna start in the fall. Scott suspected the Professor just enjoyed teaching. It was a shame he couldn't teach all of them at the Institute, but given the varied ages of his students and their abilities, it just wasn't possible.

They were protected and trained in the use of their gifts. If regular high school was the price, Scott felt they had a really good deal.

* * *

Scott stared at his reflection in the mirror. A young man in a cap and gown stared back at him. For Scott, it was almost overwhelming. His old, uncertain life was ending. He was graduating from high school and had been accepted at Manhattanville College. After a site visit, both he and Professor Xavier realized Scott would do very well at the liberal arts school. The day after tomorrow was graduation and he would be eighteen in August. Everything was coming together now in a way that almost frightened him.

"Admiring yourself?"

Jean stood in the doorway, amused.

"No," Scott said quickly, removing the mortarboard from his head. "Just trying it on. I guess ... I just never thought I'd get here."

"I know the feeling," Jean responded. She had graduated herself from medical school in May. Scott would have liked to have gone, and Jean wanted everyone there, but Jean had to limit her invitations to her parents and her sister and brother-in-law. But Professor Xavier had thrown Jean a party back at the Institute, which almost made up for it. Jean would be starting her First Year Residency in July.

"So, where did you think you would be?"

"If I hadn't have been found by the Professor?" Scott asked. Jean nodded and he thought about it for a moment. "When I was with Mr. Reynolds, I thought I might be a mechanic. He said I had a good aptitude for it. I doubt I would have gone back to high school, though."

Jean wasn't surprised by his answer. Scott did all the basic maintenance on all the cars, even hers when she came to visit. She hadn't had to take her car to a garage in almost two years, and it ran better now than it ever had before.

"I'm sure you would have been a really good mechanic," she said as Scott hung his robe up in his closet. "But now you can be anything you want to be. You have choices."

"Choices are nice," Scott agreed as they walked down the stairs together.

* * *

"Scott Summers."

Scott rose and walked to the podium to accept his diploma. In the stands were Professor Xavier, Jean, Hank, Ororo, Warren, Lorna, and Daniel. His family.

He made his way to them after the ceremony and received hugs from all. Scott was aware of a movement behind him. It was Anna McRae, the guidance counselor.

"I'm glad to see you all here," she said. "How are you settling in, Lorna?"

"Fine," Lorna replied, but she stepped closer to Scott.

"I do have a question, Ms. McRae," the Professor began.

"How I knew Lorna belonged with you?" she finished for him. "The first time the bleachers had to be repaired -- I was in the parking lot. I saw what Scott had done, but I left before you could see me. I don't pretend to understand how you do what you do. I only know, Charles Xavier, you've done very well by these children. You should be proud of them."

"I am, Ms. McRae," the Professor responded. "More than you will ever know."

* * *

The summer passed at the Xavier Institute as per its usual. Jean and Hank both spent a great deal of time there -- Hank had finished his Residency and was now a researcher at Columbia and Jean just started her Residency program. Warren returned for the whole summer and he, Ororo, and Scott picked up where they had left off, with Lorna and Daniel tagging along after them whenever possible. Life at the Institute changed, and yet, remained very much the same.

For his part, Scott was developing a healthy respect for superheros. Fictional they may be, but week after week they went up against a powerful bad guy and came out ahead. Scott thought he would be lucky to make it through to the next morning.

He, Ororo, and Jean had just returned from a mission ("mission" as in it wasn't a simple retrieval). They had gone to stop a mutant from using his gifts to subvert an entire community upstate. He hadn't cared for their actions much, but Scott hadn't cared for him either. It had taken the combined powers of the three of them to take him down and get out in one piece before the authorities arrived. All in a days work.

But, Scott thought as he trudged down the stairs in his pajamas, they absolutely had to start training together -- hard -- on a regular basis. They were a little sloppy tonight, and sloppy was going to get them killed. Scott had no doubt they would be going on "missions" as often as "retrievals" soon enough.

He went to the kitchen for a glass of his favorite chocolate milk when he saw Jean heading for the old servant's staircase. She was biting her lip and from the way she moved, she was obviously in pain.

"Jean? What is it?"

"It's nothing." Jean tried to make her voice sound normal, but she wasn't completely successful.

"Yeah, right," he said and then sucked in his breath when she turned to climb the stairs. "Oh, Jean," he breathed.

The back of her leather jacket had been sliced open.

* * *

For once, Jean didn't object to Scott's bossiness. Sometimes it was good to have a team leader. Scott helped her to her room and got her seated at her dressing table. Scott carefully peeled off the jacket. It looked worse underneath. She had obviously been bleeding for hours.

"Why didn't you say something?" he fumed as he went into her bathroom for towels and water.

"Honestly, it didn't start to really hurt until we got back," she called after him. "How bad is it?"

"I can't tell yet," he responded. He came back in the room laden with towels and a basin of hot water. He looked at what was left of her top. "There's no saving this -- I'm going to have to cut it off. Put this around you," he added as he handed her a towel.

Jean smiled slightly as she draped the towel about her front. Scott had a care for her dignity that she always found touching.

He made short work of cutting off what remained of her tank top and bra and carefully unstuck the material from where it had been plastered to her by blood. He washed around the wound carefully before trying to touch it.

"It doesn't look too deep," he told her.

"Let me see," Jean insisted.

Scott sighed and turned her back to the dresser mirror and handed her a small hand mirror so she could see her reflection.

The wound was long and ugly, but shallow. The leather jacket had done a reasonable job of protecting her. But then, that's why they had started wearing racing leather -- to shield themselves as much as possible. She put down the mirror. "It doesn't need stitches," she told him. "Just clean it, put some anti-bacterial ointment on it and dress it."

Scott smiled. She was talking to him like he was one of her ward nurses. "Yes, doctor," he said meekly and went to work. "This is going to hurt," he warned her as he began to clean the wound.

Jean stiffened and bit her lip at the sting. Behind her, as he worked, Scott began to talk. He talked about everything and anything. It was easy to figure out what he was doing -- he was trying to distract her, to take her mind away from the pain. Jean was grateful for the attempt.

He worked quickly and was soon strapping down the bandages with tape. "There," he said. "All done."

Jean let out a sigh of relief.

Scott dropped to the floor and started taking off her boots. "What are you doing?" she asked him.

"Taking off your shoes," he replied matter-of-factly. He looked up at her. "Do you really think you're going to be able to get leather pants off without help the way you're feeling now?"

Well, no, actually, she didn't, but she wasn't entirely sure she wanted Scott helping her undress. It seemed too -- intimate. But on the other hand, it was no more intimate than a back massage. She trusted him with that, she could trust him with this. So what if it were irregular -- their whole lives were irregular. Her head hurt, her back hurt, and now she only wanted to get to bed.

"Okay," Jean grumbled and undid the waistband of her pants and unzipped them. She stood long enough to ease them over her hips and once she was seated again, Scott reached out and carefully tugged them off. He casually tossed them into a chair.

"See," Scott said. "Mission accomplished."

She had to laugh at that, but a gurgling noise caught her attention and she looked up. Standing, shocked, in the open doorway was Robert. Behind him, wide-eyed, were Ororo and Warren. Jean saw how it looked in their eyes. Her clothes were strewn everywhere (Scott hadn't been particularly neat when he undressed her) and she was covered only by a towel and was practically naked. And there was Scott, right next to her and dressed for bed.

It couldn't have looked worse.

Jean opened her mouth. She was going to protest, protest their innocence, protest that things weren't the way they looked. But all she could do was stare back.

Without a word uttered, Robert turned and left. Jean turned to find Scott looking up at her. There was a strange expression on his face. All of a sudden, she was too tired to think about it and too tired to care. She shut the door with her TK and turned back to Scott.

"Could you bring me my nightgown, please. It's under the pillow."

* * *

Back at Columbia-Presbyterian Hospital, Jean didn't see Robert for several days. Finally, she saw him in the cafeteria. She didn't know what she wanted to say to him, but she knew she had to say something.

"Mind if I sit down," she began.

"Suit yourself," Robert replied.

"About what happened at the Institute ..."

"I just want to let you know, I didn't say anything to the Board," Robert interrupted. "I don't want to destroy your career, Jean."

Jean was stunned. "What are you talking about?"

Robert was scornful. "What do you think I'm talking about? You and that kid, Jean. Can you imagine what the hospital board would make of you sleeping with a teenager?"

"But I never ... we never ..." Jean babbled. "It wasn't what you thought, Robert."

"Oh really," Robert drawled as he rose from the table. "You can try to fool everyone else, Jean, but not me. You were hot for that kid from the beginning. Maybe you have kept your hands off him, maybe not. But you weren't innocent, Jean. You were never that."

And with that, Robert walked away, leaving Jean embarrassed, hurt -- and wondering.

* * *