A/N: Many apologies to the delay of posting this chapter. I had a fairly
busy week, but anyways, here it is~~ I'm not quite sure if the end of this
chapter makes sense . . . so, once again, constructive criticism is greatly
appreciated!
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Wind beat mercilessly at the mansion walls while rain lashed against the windows. Clouds that previously darkened German skies now hung their ominous shadows over New York, confining the Institute's few occupants indoors.
A grumbling redhead trailed through the hallways, searching for a way to pass her time in this perpetual storm. In the short time she'd resided in the Institute, Jean had acquainted herself with most of the surroundings – preferring to spend more time outside where she was alone and left to her own devices, than relinquishing her short youth to the suffocating indoors. This storm, however, had dampened her plans. She'd begged Ororo time and time again to put a stop to the rain and bring out the long forgotten sun, but each time she received the same lecture; that nature should be left to on its own and that tampering with it would only alert the community to Bayville's hidden mutants.
Shaking her head in disgust, she glanced about the darkened hallways, casting her mind around for ideas when a soft, flickering, dim glow caught in the corner of her eye. She recognized that light, the fuzzy blue light that could often be seen coming from under Sarah's door when she was in a particularly bad mood.
Curious as to the occupant of the TV room, Jean inched towards the door, her eyes opening in surprise at the sight of a usually uptight teen slouched in an immersion of pillows, his bandage staring blankly at the laughing TV screen. A faint smile was etched on his normally scowling face, and much to Jean's surprise, he hadn't seemed to have noticed her presence.
Taking advantage of the storm hiding her rustling movements, Jean slowly inched her way into the room, never taking her observant eyes of Scott's countenance. As the television audience broke into another round of uproarious laughter, Jean watched in amazement as Scott's stiff shoulders began to loosen, shaking with his mirth.
Captivated by this change in the surly boy, jean stood deep in the shadows, her pajama clad back leaning against the nondescript wall. Part of her wanted to skip over and sit down next to Scott, sharing in his joy, but she was afraid that if she did he'd just revert back to his old self. Since the day she had arrived at the Institute, Scott and jean had exchanged few terse words. They were always polite, but never as friendly as jean wished them to be. When she'd first laid eyes on the mysterious boy, Jean had hoped she might find a friend within his contemptuous exterior. Now that she had the chance to get to know the boy, Jean was unsure of what to say. Fortunately, that decision was decided for her as a jagged bolt of lightening forked across the darkened sky, followed by a crash of thunder, and then the room was plummeted into a well of darkness.
Letting out a shrill scream, Jean tripped over one of the many scattered books on the common room floor, sending her sprawling over the couch where Scott lay.
Senses attuned by the sudden silence of the room, Scott tensed in his seat, swiveling his head around, searching for the source of the scream. He found what he was searching for seconds later as a faint whimpering escaped from the opposite side of the couch. Realization dawning on him, Scott cautiously questioned, "Jean?"
"Y-yes?" came the tear-stained reply, her voice lined with guilt.
"Jean, what's wrong?"
Jean hesitated, not wanting to admit her fears to a boy she hardly knew, but as thunder clapped once more, she gave a frightened squeal and shifted over on the sofa, scampering closer to Scott. "The power went out, I-I'm sc-scared."
Having dealt with a frightened Alex during storms in his past, Scott unthinkingly held out his arms, enveloping the trembling Jean. "Shh, relax," he murmured soothingly, noticeably out of character. "There's nothing to be afraid of,"
*Scott, is everything all right?* The Professor broke into the boy's mind, a hint of panic edging his voice.
*Yes, Professor, we're fine.*
*I heard a scream?* It was more of a question than a statement.
*That was jean, I think the loss of power frightened her.*
*I see, Logan is attempting to put the power back online, will you two be okay in there until he does?*
Scott felt Jean slowly begin to relax in his arms - he was surprised at how small she was, the way her voice always filled the room . . . well, he hadn't expected her to feel as though he could snap her limbs in two – he answered the Professor in a bewildered sort of voice, as though he had only just realized he was holding Jean. *Yeah, I think we will be fine.*
Turning his attention back to Jean, Scott slowly asked, "You alright?"
Suddenly conscious of the strong arms wrapped around her slim frame, jean awkwardly attempted to sit up. "Better, yes, thank you . . ." she favored him with an apologetic smile that was lost in the dark, "I, I'm sorry about all that. I just . . .don't like the dark very much."
Scott withdrew his arms, allowing her to sit on her own. "I can relate to that," he murmured quietly, more to himself than to Jean.
Unable to restrain herself, the normally reserved redhead reached out her hand, tracing her fingers along the corrugated bandage. "Why do you wear this?"
Scott's hand shot out and gently pulled her wrist away from his eyes. He didn't like to admit it, but he was enjoying the contact, and that scared him. "For the same reason you have sessions with the Professor." From her silence, Scott sensed that he had confused the girl. "My powers, they," he paused, not sure if he wanted to discuss this intimate topic with a girl he barely knew, but something inside him willed him to go on, "you see, my eyes emit a deadly optic blast that I can't control."
"Deadly?" her voice quivered.
Scott nodded, "Strong enough to kill."
An uncomfortable silence filled the dark room and Scott was beginning to fear he had scared Jean into a catatonic state when she suddenly turned her luminescent green eyes on him, questioning, "What is it like? Being blind?"
"It's not so bad, once you get used to it . . ."
"But you'll never get used to it, will you? Not since you know what it's like to see. . ." Jean slowly added, filling in where he had trailed off.
"I spend every day wondering if I'll ever be able to see again, to see without killing someone in the process." He admitted slowly. "It's like one big power outage, everything is dark . . . for me, I just have my eyes closed. Can you imagine what that's like? I only have my eyes closed, I'm not permanently blind. I have to control this feeling . . . I know that if I really wanted to, I could open my eyes and see . . . but I know I can't. I'm always so afraid that one day I might just cave in, lose all my will power and just let lose . . ." Scott trailed off, amazed that what before now he could never put into words, he'd just admitted to a near stranger.
"I know how you feel," Jean responded quietly, her hand finding Scott's and giving it a squeeze. "I don't have any control either, not yet anyways. I hear all these thoughts pouring into my mind, thoughts that I know aren't mine. Do you ever wonder what goes on in people's thoughts? Have you ever imagined some of the perverted feelings that bounce around in others' minds? I hear those perverted thoughts, every time I walk down the street. When I was at school, I could hear the thoughts of all my classmates, I knew they thought I was a freak . . . and it scared me, because I agreed with them."
Scott regarded her with a renewed sort of amazement. He'd never understood the trauma Jean went through, he assumed she was always so quiet around him because she was a spoiled little girl who wanted to go home. He'd never guessed that all she wanted was a friend, and at that moment he knew, that a sort of connection had been made between him and Jean, he realized that things would never be the same around them again.
"I guess we're just a pair of freaks, huh?" He smiled at her, and she laughingly agreed, resting her tired head on Scott's shoulder. And that's where Ororo found them once the power returned; two misunderstood teens, sharing in each others' pain, asleep in front of a laughing TV.
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Wind beat mercilessly at the mansion walls while rain lashed against the windows. Clouds that previously darkened German skies now hung their ominous shadows over New York, confining the Institute's few occupants indoors.
A grumbling redhead trailed through the hallways, searching for a way to pass her time in this perpetual storm. In the short time she'd resided in the Institute, Jean had acquainted herself with most of the surroundings – preferring to spend more time outside where she was alone and left to her own devices, than relinquishing her short youth to the suffocating indoors. This storm, however, had dampened her plans. She'd begged Ororo time and time again to put a stop to the rain and bring out the long forgotten sun, but each time she received the same lecture; that nature should be left to on its own and that tampering with it would only alert the community to Bayville's hidden mutants.
Shaking her head in disgust, she glanced about the darkened hallways, casting her mind around for ideas when a soft, flickering, dim glow caught in the corner of her eye. She recognized that light, the fuzzy blue light that could often be seen coming from under Sarah's door when she was in a particularly bad mood.
Curious as to the occupant of the TV room, Jean inched towards the door, her eyes opening in surprise at the sight of a usually uptight teen slouched in an immersion of pillows, his bandage staring blankly at the laughing TV screen. A faint smile was etched on his normally scowling face, and much to Jean's surprise, he hadn't seemed to have noticed her presence.
Taking advantage of the storm hiding her rustling movements, Jean slowly inched her way into the room, never taking her observant eyes of Scott's countenance. As the television audience broke into another round of uproarious laughter, Jean watched in amazement as Scott's stiff shoulders began to loosen, shaking with his mirth.
Captivated by this change in the surly boy, jean stood deep in the shadows, her pajama clad back leaning against the nondescript wall. Part of her wanted to skip over and sit down next to Scott, sharing in his joy, but she was afraid that if she did he'd just revert back to his old self. Since the day she had arrived at the Institute, Scott and jean had exchanged few terse words. They were always polite, but never as friendly as jean wished them to be. When she'd first laid eyes on the mysterious boy, Jean had hoped she might find a friend within his contemptuous exterior. Now that she had the chance to get to know the boy, Jean was unsure of what to say. Fortunately, that decision was decided for her as a jagged bolt of lightening forked across the darkened sky, followed by a crash of thunder, and then the room was plummeted into a well of darkness.
Letting out a shrill scream, Jean tripped over one of the many scattered books on the common room floor, sending her sprawling over the couch where Scott lay.
Senses attuned by the sudden silence of the room, Scott tensed in his seat, swiveling his head around, searching for the source of the scream. He found what he was searching for seconds later as a faint whimpering escaped from the opposite side of the couch. Realization dawning on him, Scott cautiously questioned, "Jean?"
"Y-yes?" came the tear-stained reply, her voice lined with guilt.
"Jean, what's wrong?"
Jean hesitated, not wanting to admit her fears to a boy she hardly knew, but as thunder clapped once more, she gave a frightened squeal and shifted over on the sofa, scampering closer to Scott. "The power went out, I-I'm sc-scared."
Having dealt with a frightened Alex during storms in his past, Scott unthinkingly held out his arms, enveloping the trembling Jean. "Shh, relax," he murmured soothingly, noticeably out of character. "There's nothing to be afraid of,"
*Scott, is everything all right?* The Professor broke into the boy's mind, a hint of panic edging his voice.
*Yes, Professor, we're fine.*
*I heard a scream?* It was more of a question than a statement.
*That was jean, I think the loss of power frightened her.*
*I see, Logan is attempting to put the power back online, will you two be okay in there until he does?*
Scott felt Jean slowly begin to relax in his arms - he was surprised at how small she was, the way her voice always filled the room . . . well, he hadn't expected her to feel as though he could snap her limbs in two – he answered the Professor in a bewildered sort of voice, as though he had only just realized he was holding Jean. *Yeah, I think we will be fine.*
Turning his attention back to Jean, Scott slowly asked, "You alright?"
Suddenly conscious of the strong arms wrapped around her slim frame, jean awkwardly attempted to sit up. "Better, yes, thank you . . ." she favored him with an apologetic smile that was lost in the dark, "I, I'm sorry about all that. I just . . .don't like the dark very much."
Scott withdrew his arms, allowing her to sit on her own. "I can relate to that," he murmured quietly, more to himself than to Jean.
Unable to restrain herself, the normally reserved redhead reached out her hand, tracing her fingers along the corrugated bandage. "Why do you wear this?"
Scott's hand shot out and gently pulled her wrist away from his eyes. He didn't like to admit it, but he was enjoying the contact, and that scared him. "For the same reason you have sessions with the Professor." From her silence, Scott sensed that he had confused the girl. "My powers, they," he paused, not sure if he wanted to discuss this intimate topic with a girl he barely knew, but something inside him willed him to go on, "you see, my eyes emit a deadly optic blast that I can't control."
"Deadly?" her voice quivered.
Scott nodded, "Strong enough to kill."
An uncomfortable silence filled the dark room and Scott was beginning to fear he had scared Jean into a catatonic state when she suddenly turned her luminescent green eyes on him, questioning, "What is it like? Being blind?"
"It's not so bad, once you get used to it . . ."
"But you'll never get used to it, will you? Not since you know what it's like to see. . ." Jean slowly added, filling in where he had trailed off.
"I spend every day wondering if I'll ever be able to see again, to see without killing someone in the process." He admitted slowly. "It's like one big power outage, everything is dark . . . for me, I just have my eyes closed. Can you imagine what that's like? I only have my eyes closed, I'm not permanently blind. I have to control this feeling . . . I know that if I really wanted to, I could open my eyes and see . . . but I know I can't. I'm always so afraid that one day I might just cave in, lose all my will power and just let lose . . ." Scott trailed off, amazed that what before now he could never put into words, he'd just admitted to a near stranger.
"I know how you feel," Jean responded quietly, her hand finding Scott's and giving it a squeeze. "I don't have any control either, not yet anyways. I hear all these thoughts pouring into my mind, thoughts that I know aren't mine. Do you ever wonder what goes on in people's thoughts? Have you ever imagined some of the perverted feelings that bounce around in others' minds? I hear those perverted thoughts, every time I walk down the street. When I was at school, I could hear the thoughts of all my classmates, I knew they thought I was a freak . . . and it scared me, because I agreed with them."
Scott regarded her with a renewed sort of amazement. He'd never understood the trauma Jean went through, he assumed she was always so quiet around him because she was a spoiled little girl who wanted to go home. He'd never guessed that all she wanted was a friend, and at that moment he knew, that a sort of connection had been made between him and Jean, he realized that things would never be the same around them again.
"I guess we're just a pair of freaks, huh?" He smiled at her, and she laughingly agreed, resting her tired head on Scott's shoulder. And that's where Ororo found them once the power returned; two misunderstood teens, sharing in each others' pain, asleep in front of a laughing TV.
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