Encounters with an Icy Table
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. They're Marvel's.
Chapter 4
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Jean blinked as she woke up. The florescent lights of the med lab glared above her. She shifted slightly. Ugh. Everything hurt. She felt as if she had just run a marathon. She couldn't remember what had happened. There was the island and the underground base, and the fight…but that's it. How she had ended up lying on the freezing table in the med lab was beyond her. She must have been taken down in the fight, but how? Her left side hurt every time she took a breath. Jean forced herself to sit up, despite the pain. Her arm was hooked up to IV among other things. Lifting up her shirt, she discovered that her side was badly bruised. She wondered if her rib was broken.
Looking around the room, Jean noticed that Scott was laying on the other table, fast asleep. He looked quite peaceful, but thanks to her lapse of memory she didn't know if he had been taken down as well. She had dreamt about him. She didn't remember much of her dream, but she knew Scott was there. She felt his presence.
"Scott," she called, her voice a bit raspy. She cleared her throat. "Scott!"
He didn't stir.
"Scott!" she called louder. "Scott!" Still nothing. Now she was concerned. Scott was a light sleeper. Mustering all of her strength, Jean swung her legs over the side of the bed. She frowned at her IV. It wasn't important she decided, grabbing a piece of gauze and removing it. She lowered her feet down onto the floor and slowly made her way over to Scott. She had more strength than she thought she would. The pain wasn't severe, she was just sore, especially on the bruised left side.
He wasn't hooked up to any machines. That was a good sign. He lay there in a T shirt and sweatpants. His face was dirty, and his uniform was on the floor. It seemed as if he had been put there. Not a good sign. His breath was steady. Placing two fingers of her left hand onto his neck, Jean observed his pulse to be average. Gently, she tapped his shoulder. No response.
Jean bit her lip. She was worried about him. Scott would never sleep through this. She rubbed his shoulder haphazardly for a moment, finally deciding what to do. Jean placed both hands on his temples and slowly probed into his mind. Normally she wouldn't do it. She respected his boundaries. But she was extremely concerned. His lack of movement, coupled with her lapse of memory made her very uneasy.
As she journeyed further in, she found nothing. He wasn't dreaming at all. His mind was blank. Jean sat on the table beside him. A noise in the corridor startled her. Hank walked into the room.
"Hey! You're awake. And up. You should be resting."
"What wrong with him?"
"Nothing."
"Why won't he wake up?"
"We gave him something, uh, to make him sleep."
"Why?"
"He was a mess. We were concerned he was
going to hurt himself. It's only a mild sedative."
"Why would he hurt himself?"
"He was extremely distraught. Warren and I came down here and found him sitting in that chair with his head on your stomach, sobbing and shaking."
Jean looked at Scott. "He was that concerned?"
Hank furrowed his brow. "You don't remember what happened?"
Jean shook her head. "I remember the battle, but I don't remember going down."
"Ah." Hank sighed.
"What?"
"Do you remember being held by Toad?"
Jean thought about it for a moment. "Yes. He had me held with that gross tongue…" she looked down at her wrists. There were small abrasions on them. "And Mystique was hiding behind us. And…and…that's it." She lifted her shirt a bit again to look at the bruising.
"Ooh. That's gotten quite purple."
"Yeah."
Jean studied the bruise a bit more. "Judging by this, something hit me, hard. It's point of impact is here, it's a big point of impact…wow…like 6 inches in diameter. Then it diffuses."
"Luckily your ribs didn't break."
Jean nodded. Hank wasn't offering the answer quickly. She wondered why he was making it difficult. Jean looked back down at Scott. Poor thing, he was so concerned. She traced her fingers up his cheek to his glasses.
"I see you took out your IV."
"Hank, you said he was sobbing when you found him. But Scott can't cry."
"Sobbing is different from crying. Anyways, you should have waited to take this out."
"I know how to take an IV out, Hank," Jean snapped.
Hank nodded and began to check her blood pressure.
Mystique had jumped behind her and Toad after battling Scott. She was using them as a shield. Jean had stopped fighting against Toad's grip, she was waiting for her opportunity without wasting her strength. There was a long pause, as Scott approached cautiously. Mystique jumped out from behind, and Scott fired…but Mystique dodged quicker…he had hit her. Scott had hit her. Jean lip was quivering. Suddenly everything was clear. No wonder he had been a mess. It was the one thing he was most afraid of. Jean turned to Hank.
"He hit me, didn't he?"
Hank nodded. "He was nearly catatonic when I brought the two of you out. So worked up and upset. He wouldn't leave your side when we got back, but he was so distraught, the Professor was afraid he'd hurt himself."
Jean fought back tears. She didn't want him to feel this bad. There was no way to know what Mystique was going to do. She leaned down and kissed him gently on the forehead.
"Hey, Jeannie, why don't you go upstairs and get some rest in your bed?"
Jean shook her head. "I want to be here when he wakes up."
"It might be a few more hours."
"I know. I need to be here. I don't want him to wake up and see that table empty."
"Okay. Are you hungry?"
"A little."
"I'll bring you some dinner."
Hank got up and left quickly. He didn't understand why she needed to be there. But she knew she did. Scott meant a lot to her. Perhaps more than she'd been willing to admit in the past. He was her best friend. But he was more than that, and she was just starting to realize that. She couldn't place what that something more was. I think there's something here that wasn't there before. Jean smiled as the 'Beauty and the Beast' lyrics popped into her head. How appropriate. New, and a bit alarming. Who'd have ever thought that this could be? True, that he's no Prince Charming, but there's something in him that I simply didn't see…
Jean snapped out of her daze as Hank came back in with a plate of mashed potatoes.
"Sorry. We ate all the roast."
"I don't like roast anyways."
She grabbed the plate from him.
"Are you going to be okay?"
"Yeah. I'll be fine."
Hank nodded and left again. Jean sighed. It was going to be tough to get Scott over this. Jean swung herself around on the table and put her feet up on it. Slowly, she lay down next to him. He was peaceful now, but the strain would be back… Against his warm chest she fell asleep.
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