A/N: Not much to say, except, the only thing I know about the characters' pasts is from the first 2 seasons of x-men evolution and what I've read in other peoples fanfics, so this is all from my imagination, it's not factual. Anyways, here we are, more on Jean, and I think maybe some on Lance next chapter~~

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The warm yellow colors of the kitchen walls swirled in dizzy circles before Jean Grey's eyes. Her flannel nightgown clung to her dampened legs as they nervously kicked back and forth on the rung of her stool. Her bed-rumpled hair was plastered against her pasty face. Her tired green eyes darted back and forth between her tow parents as the watched her munch on the sugar-free bran cereal.

Swallowing her last bite, Jean timidly rose from her seat, carrying her cereal bowl to the sink.

"Oh, honey, don't worry about that!" her mother gently removed the bowl from Jean's hands and began washing it out with the warm, sudsy water. She gestured towards the door, "Why don't you go take a nice hot shower? I laid some clothes out for you on your bed . . ."

Jean nodded obligingly, threw a fleeting glance to her father's concerned face, and meandered out of the room.

John Grey sighed, "Elaine, you're going to have to let Jeannie handle things for herself. She's not going to get any better if you do everything for her."

"I know that!" Elaine snapped, placing the rinsed bowl and spoon in the dishwasher. "But she hasn't gotten her strength back yet, and, well, I just thought I'd help her along until she does."

"Darling, I know you mean well, but she's been out for two years, she won't get any better if you don't let her pick up her life where she left off."

"I know, John, I know. It's just, so hard." Elaine collapsed into her husband's arms, staring absently at the picture of a giggling five-year-old Jean taped on the old-fashioned fridge. "I'm just so worried about her . . ."

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Steam clouded the bathroom mirror as tears clouded Jean's eyes. Ever since she had left the hospital, her headaches had gotten worse, and though she was reluctant to reveal it to her parents, Jean had begun hearing the voices again. As far as she was concerned, she had spent enough time away from home already and she was not going to spend the rest of her life in the psychiatric ward of some sanitarium; she would just have to force the voices from her mind.

But as Jean stepped into the shower, she realized that what she was hearing were no ordinary voices.

*John's probably right, I shouldn't be worrying about Jean so much.*

"Mom?" Jean whispered, shivering despite the hot water that cascaded down her pale body.

There was no reply, only the soft sound of the buzzing fan and the crystal water droplets as the chased each other to the shower drain. Shaking her long, red mane, Jean began to lather herself with the plumeria soap, only to freeze in her place as her father swore loudly.

*Xavier will be here any minute! Where are the girls?*

"Daddy, I'm up here! In the shower!" Jean cried shakily.

But again, no response came. Hastily rinsing off, Jean hopped out of the shower and tore to her room, throwing on her mother's choice of clothes without complaint. "I am not hearing voice, I'm not hearing voices, I AM NOT HEARING VOICES!"

"Jean?" There was a knock on her bedroom door, "Honey, is everything all right?"

Jean swallowed the lump in her throat, "Yes, mom, everything's fine."

"Alright, when you're ready, will you come downstairs? There is someone your father and I would like you to meet."

"I'll be down in a few minutes," though she answered without emotion, Jean could already feel her stomach tying itself in knots.

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