Disclaimer: Someone else owns everyone and everything that isn't me.
Distribution: Ask and you shall receive.
Thanks, to all those who have reviewed, and to my beta who is not praised nearly enough. Jean Grey. One of my friends actually cried when she died, okay I did too, but that's not the point. Anyway, hope you enjoy the new bit, as always . . .review, review, review, review, review, review, review, review, review. Okay, so maybe I'm overdoing it just a teensy bit.
I realise that it's been a hell of a long time since I updated and I'm sorry. But I do't have the internet at home and with being on holiday for the summer I didn't have access at college either. The expression, "I'm back!" covers it nicely. * * *
She knew that he wasn't asleep. She hadn't slept and neither had he. He hadn't cried either. Rogue hurt for him. She didn't know what to say. Her mind was going over that damn letter. Then she was angry. How dare they? How dare they treat him like this? What gave them the right? She wanted to scream, but she didn't, she just tried to comfort Bobby.
She lay half on him, with her left leg draped over the top of him. Her left hand rested on his chest and her other was by the side; her fingers entwined with his. His arm was round her back and now and again, it would tense and grip her, then relax again. When it did, she gave no sign that she noticed other than to her rub hand on his chest. She glanced at the clock. It was only one; he might get some sleep yet.
Her mind wandered onto how they were going to deal with this, would he want to talk or would he . . .she jumped. Where was he? She didn't feel like she had moved but the sheet beneath her was cold; he wasn't there. She looked up and saw the clock, looking surprised. It was two a.m. Her eyes searched the room quickly and found him sat at the small desk against one wall.
She rolled over and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, "Bobby?"
Her turned and looked at her, "I . . . couldn't sleep."
She got up and looked over his shoulder. He was replying to the letter, but unfortunately, he hadn't gotten any further than writing, 'Dear Mom and Dad.' She perched carefully on his lap and his arm snaked around her waist as though to steady her, "Do you . . . want me to help."
He looked up at her, his eyes glistening, "Yeah. Please."
She nodded, "Well, what do you want to tell them? Do you want to try to make them understand?"
He shook his head vehemently, "No. I just . . . I just want to finish it. After . . . after that letter, I just want to finish it."
She nodded, "Okay. Well what do you want to do about your things? Do you want to . . . to go and get them? Would you even want them here?"
Bobby hesitated and looked down, "I don't know what I want. I don't think that I want them here. I don't think I could . . . maybe we could sell most of it. There's no clothes, only stuff like the bed, and my computer and furniture."
She nodded, "Yeah. If that's what you want we'll sell it." She looked at what she could see of his face, trying to find something to say that wasn't so morbid, "Hey, maybe we could get something new. You know with the money. Maybe you could get a games console or something for in here."
He smiled up at her, "Thanks."
"For what?"
"For . . ." he searched for the word and smiled, "For being you." She blushed and he squeezed her waist, "Maybe we could get something for both of us?"
She smiled, "We'll think of something."
"Will . . . will someone else go and get it all? I don't wanna go back there."
Rogue nodded, "Yeah, I'll go if you want, maybe take Logan to help me. We'll get it. At least they've seen us before."
"No, I don't want you to have . . ."
"It's okay. It won't take too long. Do you want me to take them a letter? Or not?"
He thought for a moment, "Yeah. I want a chance to, you know . . . tell them . . . I don't know."
She squeezed his shoulder, "It doesn't matter, and we'll figure it out."
* * *
Professor Xavier sat in his office trying desperately to feel for her. He had been sure it was her, but now he wasn't so sure. What if he was wrong? But it had felt so much like Jean. He had known her for nearly all of her life, he knew what she sounded like; felt like. He couldn't find her again though. She had been somewhere . . .he could use Cerebro. He just didn't know if he should.
What if it had been her and he ignored it? He would never forgive himself. His hand strayed to the inter house phone. He was halfway through dialling Scott's number when he hesitated. Telling Scott would be the worst thing to do if he was mistaken. Ororo? No, she had been Jean's best friend. Logan? No. That would never work. Logan had become so attached to her so quickly.
The Professor hesitated, they had only been on one mission, but . . . they were so gifted. He could send Kurt with them.
* * *
Bobby put down his pen; he felt a hell of a lot better. Not good, still not good, but better. Rogue ran a hand down the nape of his neck and he leaned into her touch. He was better because of her. Because she loved him and he loved her, that's what would get him though this. Rogue took his hand and pulled him to his feet, slipping her arms around his waist, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah."
She looked up at him, "Really?"
"Yeah. Let's go to bed."
She smiled, "Never a bad idea."
They crawled into bed, a tangle of arms and legs. Rogue closed her eyes and sighed, feeling him kiss the top of her head. She waved her hand and the light switch moved to off. She was drifting off to sleep when the phone rang.
Her eyes flicked open and she looked at Bobby, "This isn't happening. This isn't happening." He groaned as she reached down the side of the bed for the phone. She brought it up to her ear, feeling that she would much rather throw it out of the window, "Hello?"
"Rogue?"
She sat up in surprise, though she didn't know who she had expected, "Professor?"
"Yes. Can you and Bobby come to my office? As soon as possible."
"Is there something wrong Professor?"
"I hope not."
"Of course, we'll be there soon." She pressed the button to hang up and turned over to Bobby, "The Professor wants to see us now."
He had caught the general idea just from her side of the conversation, "Did he say what was wrong?"
She shook her head, "No. I just said we'd be there soon."
"And we will."
* * *
Bobby and Rogue linked hands as they took the elevator to the right floor. As much as she hoped that there was nothing seriously wrong, she couldn't help but feel that this whole thing couldn't have come at a better time. She glanced over at Bobby; it would probably do him good to have something else on his mind. The elevator stopped and they got out, still keeping their fingers intertwined.
Bobby and Rogue walked up to the Professor's door and knocked, "Come in." Bobby pushed open the door and they went in. Kurt was sat in the chair waiting for them. "Ah, good. I wanted to wait until you got here so that I would only have to explain it once."
Rogue looked around for the others, "Where is everyone?"
"I was actually only waiting for the two of you. I have a . . . favour to ask."
Bobby looked at him curiously, "A favour?"
"I had a . . . feeling tonight. It was like a telepathic communication."
Understanding dawned on Rogue's face, "Does someone need help?"
The Professor smiled awkwardly, "I'm not sure. You see the thing is . . . as far as I could tell, it was from Jean."
Rogue raised her eyebrows, "Jean? But . . . Jean died Professor."
"I know. That's why I'm only sending you three. There is a very large part of me that's telling me that this is insane, and not possible and . . ." he sighed. "I don't want to ignore this. I would never forgive myself if I didn't find out, but I don't want to get everyone's hopes up only to find that I had . . . I don't know, had a black out or a dream."
Rogue nodded, "Okay . . . umm, do we know where we're going?"
"Yes, I want to do this quickly and quietly. I want us all back here before morning."
Bobby raised his eyebrows, "Us?"
The Professor nodded firmly, "Yes. Us. Apart from anything else someone will have to go who can fly the jet."
Rogue glanced over at Bobby; Jean might be alive. She didn't want to let herself think it. What if they were wrong? "Okay Professor. Whenever you're ready. Do you know where we're going?"
* * *
Rogue sat thinking. Only a few weeks ago they'd been sat here going on a different mission. A mission that nearly ended up with more than one of them dead and at the end of it, she'd had new powers. She was desperately hoping that this trip wouldn't be quite as traumatic.
She glanced over her shoulder at Bobby; she had been right. It was doing him good to have something to think about other than that horrible letter. She scowled again at the thought of it.
But her mind soon drifted back to Jean Grey. Could it be possible? Was it in any way possible? How could she have survived? The way the water had flowed, it went so quickly . . . how could it not have killed her. Tears stung Rogue's eyes. She had liked Jean so much; she had always been so kind to her.
Rogue gripped the armrests, telling herself not to get her hopes up, not to let herself think that there may be a chance.
* * *
Bobby stared at the back of Rogue's head; he could tell that she was worried. He was worried too. He could feel it as well, but he was confused. He was partly glad that he was doing something other worrying about that letter.
He didn't believe that Jean could be alive. There was no way that she could have survived. The water must have weighed . . . anyway, there was no way that she could have survived it. It was impossible.
* * *
Professor Xavier landed the jet in the forests at the base of what was once the dam. He had told them that he had not been able to get a lock on her using Cerebro. As far as the machine was concerned, she was dead. But, interpreting his own intuitions, he had traced her to . . . well, here.
They had already landed three times searching the various hospitals in the surrounding area. Rogue was beginning to lose hope this at the last one to check. There had been two potentials but no real luck.
They had walked the rest of the way, as the jet landing in a less secluded area would be way too obvious. She glanced over at Bobby. It was only half past four and they were making good time but Rogue didn't want the mission to end. If it did end, then it would mean that any hope that she may have harboured was gone. That Jean Grey really was dead and was not coming back to any of them.
Rogue reached for Bobby's hand and he squeezed it gently. Kurt stayed behind in the jet with the Professor, who said he would slow them down; he attracted too much attention, being blue and all. They walked for about twenty minutes and came to the hospital entrance.
Pushing open the door Rogue went to the reception desk and went through the same motions she already had three times. The receptionist looked up at her, "Hello? May I help you?"
"I certainly hope so. I am looking for my aunt. She was meant to be coming on a weekend trip up here and while she was here, we heard about that terrible accident with the dam. We haven't heard from her since. I've been checking around all the hospitals to see if anyone's heard or seen anything of her. Or . . . well you know, if anyone . . . found her."
The woman on the desk looked very sympathetic and nodded slightly, "Of course I understand. Can you give me a description?"
"Yes, she is about five feet, six, maybe seven. She has brown eyes and short brown hair. She's beautiful."
The receptionist nodded, "Do you have a picture?"
Rogue nodded, they had learnt at the first hospital that the staff was more cooperative if there was some proof that you knew the person. She took a picture from her pocket. It was about six months old, "She's had her hair cut, it's shorter now."
The receptionist looked a the picture, "There are currently three women here that have not been identified as I understand it. One of them is much younger than this and the other is ash blonde. I, of course, have not actually seen them, but I can have a doctor come and take you to see the other."
Rogue smiled and nodded, "Thank you." The second hospital they'd been to had also said they had a woman answering Jean's vague description, Rogue would not allow herself to get too hopeful. She moved back over to Bobby's side, "The woman said that a doctor would come and take us to see a woman answering Jean's description."
Bobby nodded, "Okay, good."
As it turned out it was a nurse that came down to see them, "I understand that you may know one of our anonymous patients."
Bobby nodded, "Yes, we think that it may be a possibility."
The nurse nodded, "Okay, if you would follow me."
The nurse led them into the elevator and the doors shut with a mechanical clinking finality that made Rogue shudder. It sounded so final. The lift slid up to the seventh floor. Rogue kept gripping Bobby's hand tighter and he didn't stop gripping hers. He didn't believe that Jean was alive. It couldn't be.but, he could feel the belief that Rogue still had, still dared to hope; that the woman may somehow and miraculously survived.
The lift stopped and the doors opened. Bobby could tell right away that this was the intensive care unit of the hospital. There were very few sounds, but there was a steady beeping coming from various areas, giving the overall effect of a jerky whine.
The whole place smelled of a mixture of bleach and disinfectant. All the patients were comatose, giving Bobby the unpleasant sensation of walking through a mass of bodies. He shivered. He hated to think that anyone he knew could end up like this, unaware of the world and just existing, not living. It was terrible. If they knew for sure that the patients were going to wake up eventually then it wouldn't be so bad, but they didn't know that. There was a possibility that some of them would never wake up, just lie here forever or until the grieving relatives gave in and had the machines turned off; consenting to let their loved ones slip away.
His mind was wandering onto even more morbid subjects as they walked between the rows and rows of beds. Suddenly he almost crashed into Rogue who had stopped walking. He looked at her as though to ask her why she had stopped, but she wasn't looking at him, she was staring straight ahead.
* * *
Rogue walked down the aisle between the hospital beds that had the headboards next to the walls. Could it be possible that Jean was here, among all of these people? What would she look like if she were? Would she be hooked up to machines? Would she be cut, bruised, scarred? Would she even look like Jean?
Rogue suddenly found herself feeling scared. She wasn't entirely sure that even if the woman was Jean that she wanted to see her. If she wasn't Jean then she most definitely didn't, but she didn't see how she could possibly back out now.
The nurse leading them stopped and held her hand out in front of her, indicating a bed on Rogue's left. She turned abruptly and stared. She felt Bobby walk into her, but she didn't think she could move.
* * *
The woman on the bed was pale; she had the pinched look of someone who has lost weight very quickly. But even though her skin had a greyish tinge to it, Rogue knew, this wasn't Jean Grey.
Distribution: Ask and you shall receive.
Thanks, to all those who have reviewed, and to my beta who is not praised nearly enough. Jean Grey. One of my friends actually cried when she died, okay I did too, but that's not the point. Anyway, hope you enjoy the new bit, as always . . .review, review, review, review, review, review, review, review, review. Okay, so maybe I'm overdoing it just a teensy bit.
I realise that it's been a hell of a long time since I updated and I'm sorry. But I do't have the internet at home and with being on holiday for the summer I didn't have access at college either. The expression, "I'm back!" covers it nicely. * * *
She knew that he wasn't asleep. She hadn't slept and neither had he. He hadn't cried either. Rogue hurt for him. She didn't know what to say. Her mind was going over that damn letter. Then she was angry. How dare they? How dare they treat him like this? What gave them the right? She wanted to scream, but she didn't, she just tried to comfort Bobby.
She lay half on him, with her left leg draped over the top of him. Her left hand rested on his chest and her other was by the side; her fingers entwined with his. His arm was round her back and now and again, it would tense and grip her, then relax again. When it did, she gave no sign that she noticed other than to her rub hand on his chest. She glanced at the clock. It was only one; he might get some sleep yet.
Her mind wandered onto how they were going to deal with this, would he want to talk or would he . . .she jumped. Where was he? She didn't feel like she had moved but the sheet beneath her was cold; he wasn't there. She looked up and saw the clock, looking surprised. It was two a.m. Her eyes searched the room quickly and found him sat at the small desk against one wall.
She rolled over and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, "Bobby?"
Her turned and looked at her, "I . . . couldn't sleep."
She got up and looked over his shoulder. He was replying to the letter, but unfortunately, he hadn't gotten any further than writing, 'Dear Mom and Dad.' She perched carefully on his lap and his arm snaked around her waist as though to steady her, "Do you . . . want me to help."
He looked up at her, his eyes glistening, "Yeah. Please."
She nodded, "Well, what do you want to tell them? Do you want to try to make them understand?"
He shook his head vehemently, "No. I just . . . I just want to finish it. After . . . after that letter, I just want to finish it."
She nodded, "Okay. Well what do you want to do about your things? Do you want to . . . to go and get them? Would you even want them here?"
Bobby hesitated and looked down, "I don't know what I want. I don't think that I want them here. I don't think I could . . . maybe we could sell most of it. There's no clothes, only stuff like the bed, and my computer and furniture."
She nodded, "Yeah. If that's what you want we'll sell it." She looked at what she could see of his face, trying to find something to say that wasn't so morbid, "Hey, maybe we could get something new. You know with the money. Maybe you could get a games console or something for in here."
He smiled up at her, "Thanks."
"For what?"
"For . . ." he searched for the word and smiled, "For being you." She blushed and he squeezed her waist, "Maybe we could get something for both of us?"
She smiled, "We'll think of something."
"Will . . . will someone else go and get it all? I don't wanna go back there."
Rogue nodded, "Yeah, I'll go if you want, maybe take Logan to help me. We'll get it. At least they've seen us before."
"No, I don't want you to have . . ."
"It's okay. It won't take too long. Do you want me to take them a letter? Or not?"
He thought for a moment, "Yeah. I want a chance to, you know . . . tell them . . . I don't know."
She squeezed his shoulder, "It doesn't matter, and we'll figure it out."
* * *
Professor Xavier sat in his office trying desperately to feel for her. He had been sure it was her, but now he wasn't so sure. What if he was wrong? But it had felt so much like Jean. He had known her for nearly all of her life, he knew what she sounded like; felt like. He couldn't find her again though. She had been somewhere . . .he could use Cerebro. He just didn't know if he should.
What if it had been her and he ignored it? He would never forgive himself. His hand strayed to the inter house phone. He was halfway through dialling Scott's number when he hesitated. Telling Scott would be the worst thing to do if he was mistaken. Ororo? No, she had been Jean's best friend. Logan? No. That would never work. Logan had become so attached to her so quickly.
The Professor hesitated, they had only been on one mission, but . . . they were so gifted. He could send Kurt with them.
* * *
Bobby put down his pen; he felt a hell of a lot better. Not good, still not good, but better. Rogue ran a hand down the nape of his neck and he leaned into her touch. He was better because of her. Because she loved him and he loved her, that's what would get him though this. Rogue took his hand and pulled him to his feet, slipping her arms around his waist, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah."
She looked up at him, "Really?"
"Yeah. Let's go to bed."
She smiled, "Never a bad idea."
They crawled into bed, a tangle of arms and legs. Rogue closed her eyes and sighed, feeling him kiss the top of her head. She waved her hand and the light switch moved to off. She was drifting off to sleep when the phone rang.
Her eyes flicked open and she looked at Bobby, "This isn't happening. This isn't happening." He groaned as she reached down the side of the bed for the phone. She brought it up to her ear, feeling that she would much rather throw it out of the window, "Hello?"
"Rogue?"
She sat up in surprise, though she didn't know who she had expected, "Professor?"
"Yes. Can you and Bobby come to my office? As soon as possible."
"Is there something wrong Professor?"
"I hope not."
"Of course, we'll be there soon." She pressed the button to hang up and turned over to Bobby, "The Professor wants to see us now."
He had caught the general idea just from her side of the conversation, "Did he say what was wrong?"
She shook her head, "No. I just said we'd be there soon."
"And we will."
* * *
Bobby and Rogue linked hands as they took the elevator to the right floor. As much as she hoped that there was nothing seriously wrong, she couldn't help but feel that this whole thing couldn't have come at a better time. She glanced over at Bobby; it would probably do him good to have something else on his mind. The elevator stopped and they got out, still keeping their fingers intertwined.
Bobby and Rogue walked up to the Professor's door and knocked, "Come in." Bobby pushed open the door and they went in. Kurt was sat in the chair waiting for them. "Ah, good. I wanted to wait until you got here so that I would only have to explain it once."
Rogue looked around for the others, "Where is everyone?"
"I was actually only waiting for the two of you. I have a . . . favour to ask."
Bobby looked at him curiously, "A favour?"
"I had a . . . feeling tonight. It was like a telepathic communication."
Understanding dawned on Rogue's face, "Does someone need help?"
The Professor smiled awkwardly, "I'm not sure. You see the thing is . . . as far as I could tell, it was from Jean."
Rogue raised her eyebrows, "Jean? But . . . Jean died Professor."
"I know. That's why I'm only sending you three. There is a very large part of me that's telling me that this is insane, and not possible and . . ." he sighed. "I don't want to ignore this. I would never forgive myself if I didn't find out, but I don't want to get everyone's hopes up only to find that I had . . . I don't know, had a black out or a dream."
Rogue nodded, "Okay . . . umm, do we know where we're going?"
"Yes, I want to do this quickly and quietly. I want us all back here before morning."
Bobby raised his eyebrows, "Us?"
The Professor nodded firmly, "Yes. Us. Apart from anything else someone will have to go who can fly the jet."
Rogue glanced over at Bobby; Jean might be alive. She didn't want to let herself think it. What if they were wrong? "Okay Professor. Whenever you're ready. Do you know where we're going?"
* * *
Rogue sat thinking. Only a few weeks ago they'd been sat here going on a different mission. A mission that nearly ended up with more than one of them dead and at the end of it, she'd had new powers. She was desperately hoping that this trip wouldn't be quite as traumatic.
She glanced over her shoulder at Bobby; she had been right. It was doing him good to have something to think about other than that horrible letter. She scowled again at the thought of it.
But her mind soon drifted back to Jean Grey. Could it be possible? Was it in any way possible? How could she have survived? The way the water had flowed, it went so quickly . . . how could it not have killed her. Tears stung Rogue's eyes. She had liked Jean so much; she had always been so kind to her.
Rogue gripped the armrests, telling herself not to get her hopes up, not to let herself think that there may be a chance.
* * *
Bobby stared at the back of Rogue's head; he could tell that she was worried. He was worried too. He could feel it as well, but he was confused. He was partly glad that he was doing something other worrying about that letter.
He didn't believe that Jean could be alive. There was no way that she could have survived. The water must have weighed . . . anyway, there was no way that she could have survived it. It was impossible.
* * *
Professor Xavier landed the jet in the forests at the base of what was once the dam. He had told them that he had not been able to get a lock on her using Cerebro. As far as the machine was concerned, she was dead. But, interpreting his own intuitions, he had traced her to . . . well, here.
They had already landed three times searching the various hospitals in the surrounding area. Rogue was beginning to lose hope this at the last one to check. There had been two potentials but no real luck.
They had walked the rest of the way, as the jet landing in a less secluded area would be way too obvious. She glanced over at Bobby. It was only half past four and they were making good time but Rogue didn't want the mission to end. If it did end, then it would mean that any hope that she may have harboured was gone. That Jean Grey really was dead and was not coming back to any of them.
Rogue reached for Bobby's hand and he squeezed it gently. Kurt stayed behind in the jet with the Professor, who said he would slow them down; he attracted too much attention, being blue and all. They walked for about twenty minutes and came to the hospital entrance.
Pushing open the door Rogue went to the reception desk and went through the same motions she already had three times. The receptionist looked up at her, "Hello? May I help you?"
"I certainly hope so. I am looking for my aunt. She was meant to be coming on a weekend trip up here and while she was here, we heard about that terrible accident with the dam. We haven't heard from her since. I've been checking around all the hospitals to see if anyone's heard or seen anything of her. Or . . . well you know, if anyone . . . found her."
The woman on the desk looked very sympathetic and nodded slightly, "Of course I understand. Can you give me a description?"
"Yes, she is about five feet, six, maybe seven. She has brown eyes and short brown hair. She's beautiful."
The receptionist nodded, "Do you have a picture?"
Rogue nodded, they had learnt at the first hospital that the staff was more cooperative if there was some proof that you knew the person. She took a picture from her pocket. It was about six months old, "She's had her hair cut, it's shorter now."
The receptionist looked a the picture, "There are currently three women here that have not been identified as I understand it. One of them is much younger than this and the other is ash blonde. I, of course, have not actually seen them, but I can have a doctor come and take you to see the other."
Rogue smiled and nodded, "Thank you." The second hospital they'd been to had also said they had a woman answering Jean's vague description, Rogue would not allow herself to get too hopeful. She moved back over to Bobby's side, "The woman said that a doctor would come and take us to see a woman answering Jean's description."
Bobby nodded, "Okay, good."
As it turned out it was a nurse that came down to see them, "I understand that you may know one of our anonymous patients."
Bobby nodded, "Yes, we think that it may be a possibility."
The nurse nodded, "Okay, if you would follow me."
The nurse led them into the elevator and the doors shut with a mechanical clinking finality that made Rogue shudder. It sounded so final. The lift slid up to the seventh floor. Rogue kept gripping Bobby's hand tighter and he didn't stop gripping hers. He didn't believe that Jean was alive. It couldn't be.but, he could feel the belief that Rogue still had, still dared to hope; that the woman may somehow and miraculously survived.
The lift stopped and the doors opened. Bobby could tell right away that this was the intensive care unit of the hospital. There were very few sounds, but there was a steady beeping coming from various areas, giving the overall effect of a jerky whine.
The whole place smelled of a mixture of bleach and disinfectant. All the patients were comatose, giving Bobby the unpleasant sensation of walking through a mass of bodies. He shivered. He hated to think that anyone he knew could end up like this, unaware of the world and just existing, not living. It was terrible. If they knew for sure that the patients were going to wake up eventually then it wouldn't be so bad, but they didn't know that. There was a possibility that some of them would never wake up, just lie here forever or until the grieving relatives gave in and had the machines turned off; consenting to let their loved ones slip away.
His mind was wandering onto even more morbid subjects as they walked between the rows and rows of beds. Suddenly he almost crashed into Rogue who had stopped walking. He looked at her as though to ask her why she had stopped, but she wasn't looking at him, she was staring straight ahead.
* * *
Rogue walked down the aisle between the hospital beds that had the headboards next to the walls. Could it be possible that Jean was here, among all of these people? What would she look like if she were? Would she be hooked up to machines? Would she be cut, bruised, scarred? Would she even look like Jean?
Rogue suddenly found herself feeling scared. She wasn't entirely sure that even if the woman was Jean that she wanted to see her. If she wasn't Jean then she most definitely didn't, but she didn't see how she could possibly back out now.
The nurse leading them stopped and held her hand out in front of her, indicating a bed on Rogue's left. She turned abruptly and stared. She felt Bobby walk into her, but she didn't think she could move.
* * *
The woman on the bed was pale; she had the pinched look of someone who has lost weight very quickly. But even though her skin had a greyish tinge to it, Rogue knew, this wasn't Jean Grey.