Summary: Scott and Jean take a look at their past as the two find solace in the beauty of a winter wonderland.
Pairing (s): Scott/Jean
Rating for this Chapter: PG-13
Chapter 8
Scott was sitting by his desk skimming over the details of the Canadian landing on Juno Beach when he noticed that MSN had finished its setup and he could finally talk to Jean electronically. She was the reason he got it anyway. Adding her to his contacts list, he sent her a message:
salamander: there, I got this damned thing. Happy?
Surprisingly, Jean replied almost instantly, and on the same screen. Maybe this program wasn't so bad after all.
jeangrey: ecstatic! :-} whats wit da name? salamander? rotflmao!!!!!!!!!!! its even worse than blinkie!
salamander: Wow, just because we're on the 'net, you degrade your english to a grade four level. Impressive.
jeangrey: dont dodge my question. Whats wit da name?
salamander: (grand sigh) It was something I picked up in the libraries when I was in the orphanage. I read about all this crap on legends and stuff. Two in particular interested me - the Phoenix and the Salamander.
jeangrey: ... and ?
salamander: Nosey, nosey, aren't we? :( Fine, you win. Theologians used the Phoenix to prove the resurrection of the flesh; likewise, they used the salamander as proof that bodies can live in fire. To alchemists, the Salamander was the spirit of the element fire. Leonardo da Vinci believed that the salamander fed on fire to renew its skin. By legend, the salamander can't be burned. Once, there was this story about a Phoenix who consumed everyone and everything around her with flames. The salamander survived; it was the only thing that did. I sort of admire it – I mean, come on, who wouldn't want to walk through fire and not get burned – but it's also one of my favorite stories.
jeangrey: ic
jeangrey: BTW, i always win slim, lol ;)
salamander: Whatever Red. So, you gonna visit soon, or what?
jeangrey: why, did u miss me? :)
salamander: It's a yes or no question.
jeangrey: fine, you're no fun :P yes. my dad agreed to have me stay for another weekend session wit da professor dis week.
salamander: That's great. I'll see ya then
Just like she promised, Jean had managed to convince her parents, mostly her mom, for a second psychic therapy session this weekend. In a couple hours, her daddy will come to pick her up and drive her all the way to Bayville. The redhead could hardly wait.
It's funny sometimes how slow time can be when you're counting every second. Jean was finding this out the hard way as she sat through another boring lesson on fractions. Cursing under her breath, the pretty telepath found it extremely irritating that the day was still not over yet. School was half done, but already it felt like she had been stuck in this wretched dump for weeks.
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Later that day, in a discreet location, just beyond the gardens of the grounds of the Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters, Scott was relaxing in his favourite 'get away' place. It was located on the northern grounds of the mansion properties, along a small, stone path that meandered through a not so dense area of the forest. In the middle of all the trees and bushes, there was a small clearing bisected by a small stream that flowed with crystal clear water. The ground had a very gentle, but distinct, downward slope that offered anyone who chose to lie down on the soft grass a magnificent view of the lake, the sight bordered by the branches of young maples growing nearby. On the other side of the creek, stood a mighty oak, with a large pink boulder decorating the base of its thick trunk.
Apart from the awesome view, the main reason Scott likes to spend his time here so much is that his powers are still developing. His body seems to enjoy basking in the rich afternoon sun as he soaked up solar energy like a dry sponge. A considerable intake of sunlight or other forms of ambient energy needed to be maintained or else he gets these splitting headaches, although the problem isn't as bad as when his powers first manifested. His body seemed to be able to handle his powers more efficiently as he grew older.
A hawk swooped out over the water as Scott spread himself over soft green grass comfortably, staring lazily over the cobalt surface of the lake. The boy was given a small 'recess' from his academic studies, and he intended to make full use of it. So what if Magneto had decided to stir up trouble right in the middle of his history lesson? Lying flat on his back, Scott was just dozing off when he felt the hard touch of a mental call brushing over his mind. It wasn't soft like the Professor's; in fact, it was forceful and untamed. It was Jean.
//Scott, where are you?\\ she broadcasted, trying to search out his distinctive mental signature. The young boy winced - it sounded like the redhead was screaming in his head.
//No need to shout. I'm over here\\
//Okay, where's 'over here'?\\
//I'm on the north side, behind the gardens. I'll send up a flare so you could follow it, okay?\\
Once he was sure that she was facing north, Scott slowly removed his glasses and opened his eyes. A straight, brilliant crimson beam streaked vertically through the sky like a homesick angel, feeding off of the sunlight absorbed by his body. Jean caught sight of his optic blast immediately, and simply stared at it in awe for a few seconds. She had never actually seen his powers before, and it took her a moment before she was able to shake off her shock and make her way towards the light.
After about half a minute, Scott closed his eyes and replaced his glasses. Shortly after, he saw Jean making her way through some dense undergrowth from the other side of the clearing instead of where the stone path was. She broke out of the small bushes and trees breathing heavily.
"You know, they have paths here for a reason," Scott remarked as his best friend grunted and furiously tried to remove all the leaves and sticks from her long, red hair.
"Excuse me if I don't know this place as well as you do," she shot back, fighting back a smile. Scott just arched his eyebrows and continued to stare out over the silver lake on one propped elbow.
"So, how was school?" he asked, mild interest in his voice.
"Don't even ask," Jean replied, smoothing out some wrinkles in her shirt and pants before plopping down beside Scott, arms crossed over her knees. "There aren't even enough words in the dictionary to describe how horrible it was."
"That bad, huh? What did they do to ya - nail you to a crucifix? Make you read Shakespeare?"
"No!" she laughed, but her mirth was quickly replaced by sadness. Scott noticed the change of emotion with concern, and realized that he was about to cross one of those unspoken, invisible lines in their friendship. Some things they just weren't ready to talk about yet. Suddenly, he noticed her arm was bleeding. The boy didn't notice it before because he saw everything in red, but there was now a very distinctive black line that ran across her forearm as the wound started to bleed.
"Jean, your arm..." he pointed.
"What? Oh, it's nothing really. I was walking and then a branch whipped me," she answered, hiding her discomfort.
"Here, let me take a look at it. It's bleeding a lot." Indeed, two small lines of blood began to trickle down her arm.
"Really Scott, I'm fine," Jean replied, ignoring the growing stinging sensation creeping from her wound. Until he noticed it, she didn't realize that she was even hurt.
Scott, however, was unyielding. "Shut up and let me see it. You don't want it to scar," he ordered, already taking off his t-shirt. Any further protest was silenced as Jean could only stare at his perfectly sculpted body admirably, complying meekly when he told her to hold out her arm. Running two small optic blasts along the length of his shirt, Scott grabbed her wrist gently and started to bandage her wound with the perfectly cut piece of cloth, glad that he paid attention to Ororo's lesson on first-aid.
"Does it hurt?" he asked, more to keep her mind off of the pain than anything else.
"What do you think?"
"Well, you said you were fine before," Scott pointed out, causing her to blush a bit. He finished wrapping up the wound with a small knot. "There, done. That wasn't so bad, was it?"
Miraculously, the pain seemed to be consumed by the fuzzy comfort of the makeshift bandage until Jean could hardly feel it anymore. "No, it wasn't," she admitted, still staring at shirtless Scott. Her emerald eyes ran across his trendy crimson shades to his full mouth, then down his well-developed chest, across his hard abs and finally back to his eyes again. All that extra superhero training paid off after all. Her lips curved into an innocent smile, one of approval, as Scott looked on with arched eyebrows.
"Do you always run around topless whenever there's a girl around?"
"Only if they do the same," Scott replied playfully. He felt something smack the back of his head.
"God, you're awful," Jean laughed, getting up to her feet. "Let's go back to the mansion, you pervert. I'm already late for my session with the Professor."
"Okay." The young boy didn't move from his comfortable spot on the grass, enjoying the dying rays of the sun. "Have fun by yourself."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means," Scott explained, carefully slipping on each half of his shirt separately, "that there are no adults here. They are-"
"Out on a mission?" Jean supplied, sitting down beside him. He just gave her an amused questioning look.
"You reading my mind again?" he demanded with mock anger. Unfortunately, because of his shades, Jean couldn't tell that he was being sarcastic.
"Whoops...uh...sorry...I didn't-" the redhead stammered, before the sunglasses-sporting mutant dismissed her apology with a wave of his hand.
"I was only kidding," he assured. Jean let out a nervous chuckle as she picked at her shoelaces with apparent interest, blushing all the while. Damn her fair complexion. Agitated by the silence, she asked, "Do you want to play a game?"
"Sure. What game?"
The telepath started to think about it, before she picked one. "How bout, Twenty Questions? I'll start!" she exclaimed in her usual perky self.
"How bout, I give you seven questions, and in exchange I promise that my answers will bear some semblance of the truth," Scott offered. Jean considered his proposal for a second, before agreeing to his terms.
"Deal. Hm, let's see... what's your favourite hobby?"
"Training," he replied simply. Wow, that was a no brainer...
Annoyed by how casually and quickly Scott answered, Jean started digging deeper into her mind for a question that'll make him think more. "What is your favourite TV show?"
"I don't watch TV."
Jean's eyes narrowed menacingly. "What kind of an answer is that?"
"A good one," Scott replied, pleased that she wasted another one of her questions. If his plan continued to work, she would...
"Are you kidding me? You expect me to believe that you really don't watch TV?"
"No, and yes. That's five," Scott counted, thoroughly enjoying himself as he watched the telepath seethe with barely restrained anger. He knew he was being manipulative and wasn't playing fair, but his time on the streets had taught him that nothing in life was ever fair.
~He's your best friend~ Jean repeated slowly to herself ~You can't rip off his head. Just count to ten and calm down~ She still had two questions left, which was more than enough. "What are your three favourite books?"
"I would have to say the Art of War, Everyman a Tiger and Hamlet. Tom Clancy books are also pretty good," Scott answered, before adding, "By the way, that counts as two, because you asked for more than one book, making it seven. My turn."
"What? That is so not fair!" Jean scowled at him. Scott just shrugged, but his calmness just ticked her off more. Feeling cheated, she exclaimed angrily, "Scott Summers, you are impossible! You can't even play a stupid game properly! I'm quitting!"
At this, the redhead got up and stormed away. "Jean," Scott called after her, convinced that she'll come back. She didn't. He called her name again, and as before, received no answer. Cursing the silent treatment, he pried his body off of its comfortable position and chased after her, catching up to the angry telepath just as she stepped onto the stone path that led back to the mansion.
"You've got quite a temper," Scott remarked, stopping Jean dead in her tracks by grabbing an arm.
"Let go," she hissed, trying unsuccessfully to pry her limb away from his surprisingly strong grip.
"Jean, it's just a game!" Scott stated, forcing her to turn to look at him. "Look, I'm sorry. Is that what you wanted me to say?" Still, the cold shoulder endured. He started to become really irritated, and he didn't even know why. With one deep sigh, he tried to reconcile the situation one last time. "Fine, I'll give you two more questions."
With her arms crossed but still not looking at him, Jean mumbled her next question through pouted lips. Scott thought she looked adorable. "What is your favorite colour?"
This time, he actually took some time to consider his answer. "Red, I guess, since it's the only colour I'm able to see in anyway. I liked red before too."
Jean took a moment to consider her next question. She was going to make it count. "What is the colour of your eyes?"
Scott paused, letting her words sink in, before commenting, "This is getting a bit personal."
"Are you going to answer the question, or not?" Her irritation was beginning to get the better of her again.
Brows furrowed in concentration, Scott took his time thinking his response over. "I don't know," he said finally, in a soft voice. Jean, thinking that he was lying, growled in frustration and was about to stalk off again when two hands grabbed her shoulders and spun her around to face the teenage boy once more. She was about to scream out when Scott silenced her with a hand over her soft lips. "That's the truth. I don't remember colours anymore, don't know what they look like. Sure, I know their names - purple, yellow, blue, green - but that's as far as it goes." He stopped, finding interest in a small bush as he tested the limits of his private pain.
"Sometimes, I dream of it, but when I wake up, I always end up forgetting it all. But," he paused, taking a deep breath as he combed his mind for an answer that'll satisfy her, "I think it was the colour of the grass and trees. Blue or purple? I don't know..."
"Green?" she corrected him softly, trying to imagine Scott with green eyes. Her anger finally died as she realized that her friend was telling the truth.
"I don't know," Scott repeated, unable to look at her. "Whatever the colour the trees and grass are. Everything's all red, black, pink or white to me."
Jean just nodded understandingly. "If it helps, I think you would look very handsome with green eyes." At this, Scott's cheeks reddened a bit.
"Thanks," he whispered, nodding softly. "Too bad you'll never see them."
"I have green eyes too, you know?"
"Then I guess we have a lot more in common than I once thought," he retorted dryly, as if it was something significant.
Neither said anything more as they unconsciously made their way back to Scott's place on the grass, overlooking the lake. The sun was just sinking below the gently rolling hills off to their left, painting the sky in brilliant shades of oranges, yellows, purples, blues and greens. Jean rested her head on Scott's shoulder as the two teens stared at the beautiful sight before them.
"Gorgeous, isn't it?" Scott remarked, feeling at peace.
"Hm, I thought you can't see in colour?" she joked.
"That doesn't mean I don't appreciate something beautiful when I see it," he replied, sneaking a quick glance at the girl beside him. ~Or someone...~
"I bet it still can't be as good as the real thing," Jean argued, sitting up. For the briefest of moments, her telepathy overcame Xavier's mental blocks, and she heard Scott thinking, ~You'd lose that bet~ She assumed that he was talking about the scenery. Suddenly, it didn't seem fair that he wasn't able to see things as they really are.
"Scott, one day, when I learn enough control of my telepathy, I'll help you see in colour again."
Scott eyed her skeptically behind crimson walls. He wanted to say something like, 'Sure you can,' but kept his mouth shut. She was only trying to help. "Is that a promise?"
"Yes," she responded, determination etched in her voice. Before either of them could utter another word, a huge black shape, like a bat out of hell, sped over the lake, powered by twin tongues of blue flames. Just as it looked like it was going to slam into a waterfall, a hole in the cliff opened up, swallowing the X-jet in darkness before closing itself again.
"Come on, the others are back," Scott said as he got up, helping Jean to her feet. ~ Always the gentlemen~ the redhead thought as she took his hand. "I think it's about time you met the X-men in all their glory anyway."
On their way back to the mansion, Jean really wanted to ask Scott one more thing before she let it all go. Uneasily, she took a deep breath, before tapping his shoulder and prompting him to stop. "Can I ask you one more question, Scott?"
"Uhhh, sure, whatever."
"That night, when we were talking on MSN...I asked you...did you miss me...but you didn't say...well, did you?" Jean blurted out, stammering all the way.
Never one to show much emotion, Scott considered blowing her off, but then he saw the look in her eyes. She needed to hear it. "Of course I did. Jean, what's wrong? What happened at school?" Suddenly, he became worried; what if that blue woman attacked her?
"No nothing, really," Jean lied, burying her face into his shoulder. Her body started shaking as she began to cry silently. Memories of the past week at school replayed themselves over and over again in her head. "Why do you want to be my friend?"
"Are we playing Twenty Questions again?" Scott joked, trying to lighten the mood. He failed miserably. "Jean, what brought this on? Did somebody hurt you?"
"No, I'm fine, really. It's just that... oh, never mind!" she choked out between hiccups. Scott wasn't content with just letting the subject go, but he didn't want to pry either. She'll tell him when she's ready.
And he'll be damned if he wasn't there to listen.