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plot. It is simply for your enjoyment! So please enjoy it!
The only sound in the hallow hallways was the clickity-clack of Jeans high heeled sandals as she walked in a daze and made a dire dash to the garden house, with all hopes that Ororo might just be there. With a watering can in her hand and a ready mind to give Jean the advice she knew she would have.
The young girls mind had been buzzing all afternoon. Thinking of the offer that the Professor had asked her to call up on. Not once in her life had Jean thought herself capable to care of someone. Especially not someone as mentally fragile and messed up as Pietro Maximoff.
He was in his own right...extremely dangerous. The offer of being so close to such a...furtive person was...slightly intoxicating. And it was an offer she normally wouldn't back out of. Most certainly not when the professor was counting on her.
Yet with the circumstances there was always room for a good reconsideration or two. So thus, with a set mind and determined look she marched off to the direction of the greenhouse.
In all the time that Jean had been at the institute, she had always found that the most peaceful place to go to be by oneself in the company of only ones thoughts was Ororo's gardens.
As a younger girl she had thought the flowers as fascinating and loved to go everyday after school to assist Ororo in watering them. Watching them grow, Ororo had once told her, could always take a person's mind off of their problems.
"It's amazing," Ororo told her one afternoon, "How inspiring it is to watch this small, young restless plant grow so stubbornly when there are such larger and imposing plants around it, just staring it down...waiting for it to give up. But it keeps on growing."
Jean recalled her rebuttal to the statement, "Oh Miss Munroe," she had giggled, "Only you could think of something like that."
Ororo had simply smiled the smile that often graced the lips of certain people. People that knew more than others understood. The smile smiled as they waited for the rest of the world to catch up to them.
These were the memories that flitted through Jeans hazy mind as she pushed gently on the foggy glass door. Sighing in awe as a lively exotic green obscured her vision and surrounded her with a sense of comfort and familiarity, she could only smile as more fond memories bubbled at the surface of her drifted mind.
"Ororo?" she called out tenderly sounding much like a child separated from her mother, "Are you there?" I need you to be here. "Ororo?" I need to talk. "Hello?"
There was a bustle of leaves as a head of white hair and flashes of dark skin poked out from the flaps of the larger plant leaves.
"Hello Jean." Ororo said as her eyes shone with happiness that the girl had sought her out in the correct place. "Is there something you need to speak to me about?" she said to the younger girl.
Jean smiled gently. "You can read me like a book Ororo." Yet the older woman simply shook her head at her.
"Any literate person can read a book, child. Some people just have to know what they are reading." She told her as she sat the thin tin watering can down with a clank next to a large, firm looking tree and motioned for Jean to come and stand with her.
"Do you recognize this tree?" she asked the red-headed girl after a moment or so of silence. Jean's head shook as she twitched her lips to the side as if trying to remember the name of an actor she knew she had seen before, but just couldn't place her finger on it.
She sighed giving up. "Not that I can recall. But it seems so familiar to me." She admitted as she let her eyes wonder to Ororo's face, seeing that her eyes were still firmly glued to the tree.
"This," Ororo began fondly "is the plant you first planted upon moving to the institute. I told you that as you grew, it would also grow. In beauty, size, and understanding to the other things and plants around it."
Jean had grown past making comments on Ororo's constant personification of plants. But looking at the strong, firm and steady looking plant it surprised her that it was so young. Breathing out she whispered, "I remember." As if having what an alcoholic would call a moment of clarity. She had a feeling she knew what Ororo was going to tell her.
"I know what you wish to talk to me about Jean." Ororo told her, the mildness of her mouth lifting into a stern smile. "Yet I believe that you've grown enough to the point that you understand the things, and people around you enough to do that on your own." Ororo told her somewhat firmly.
"Not only that," the woman continued, "But you have what many people do not. And that is an accurate understanding of yourself and a content and secure place in the world."
Jean's eyes filled with intensity as a war raged in the depths of her mind. 'What to do.' She pondered as her angels and demons weighed her pros and cons. Ororo, seeming to see her confliction said, "But if you would like my opinion-"
The offer hung in the air just like that. It seemed almost as if Jean had not heard her. Yet then she nodded. "I do." She told Ororo without any doubt in her mind.
Ororo sighed. Closed her eyes, and then opened them again. "Pietro is young, emotionally and mentally fragile. He is a young man with a wretched past and grim future. He lives in a world where nothing is certain and he has no room to be himself. Yet I doubt that even he knows who he is......but you do Jean." Ororo paused to give Jean a proud look then continued, "You know who you are. And I believe that if you try, that you can help him find out who he is too......but that is simply my opinion."
Jean bowed her head and with a soft smile leaned forward and hugged the woman that had been like a second mother to her.
She stood slowly, breathed deeply, nodded and walked towards her exit. She paused however, at the door, saying only, "Ororo sometimes I forget the I'm the mind reader,"
Her only response was a smile.
"Lance, I wouldn't ask you to do this if I didn't believe that it would be the best thing for both of us." Pietro stated in a monotonous tone as he let his gaze remain fixated on the white linins that wept with boredom and blandness.
Would these sheets be his life if he stayed at the Institute? Sure the offer had always been open.....but nothing was scarier than crossing the line to accept it. Nothing except for this.
"But," Lance began inarticulately, "That's what scares me, Pietro." He said in all honesty. "It's always been my job to do that....for you guys. But this time....this time I can't even be sure what's good for me."
Pietro sighed and lifted his gaze to meet that of Lance. "That's why I'm telling you. Whether you listen or not is entirely up to you and the others." He told him in an airy tone.
Lance gritted his teeth. "Could you please act a little more concerned about this!' he scolded Pietro in a harsh tone.
Frustrated Pietro through his hands into the air. "Oh excuse me! I'm sorry if I'm a bit cranky because I woke up with Jean Grey standing over me for the third time in the past two days while having a doctor continually tell me not to panic because they're trying the best they can to extract the blood from my eyes and EXSCUSE ME FOR BEING A LITTLE UPSET BECAUSE NO ONE WILL TELL ME WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING TO ME!"
Lance stood there for a moment in the silence as Pietro's heavy and angry breaths filled the room. "Stop yelling Pietro! I'm still out here you know!" Wanda called from outside the Infirmary door where she had apparently been listening to their conversation.
"Good," Pietro called back out to her, "Then find the doctor and ask him where my f*cking painkillers are!"
Lance smiled. "They'll think about it." Lance told him seriously. Pietro raised a quizzical eyebrow out him.
"They?" he questioned him with a never ending curiosity that seemed to constantly surround the human race.
Lance nodded. "You're right. What they do is entirely up to them....but I think I'll stay here with you."
They smiled at each other using that ever so sacred best friend smile. They wanted to hug but decided against it as to not disrupt their manly statue.
After awhile Pietro smacked his lips in a rather annoyed fashion. "You're staying because of Kitty aren't you?" he asked.
"Yeah pretty much." Lance told him as Pietro simply nodded. Disappointed that he had not though to use that tactical approach.
Jean opened the door to the Professors office with her eyes shining in the fashion of a girl that had all of her priorities straightened out. She looked as if she had just gotten off the craziest roller coaster of her life.
Yet she was only just about to board it. For she sealed her destiny the moment she walked up to the Professor's desk in a strident and confidant action and said, "Professor, I would love to be Pietro's caretaker."
DigitalAngel4U: That's all for now! I'll update soon as I can! Review and tell me what you think!
The only sound in the hallow hallways was the clickity-clack of Jeans high heeled sandals as she walked in a daze and made a dire dash to the garden house, with all hopes that Ororo might just be there. With a watering can in her hand and a ready mind to give Jean the advice she knew she would have.
The young girls mind had been buzzing all afternoon. Thinking of the offer that the Professor had asked her to call up on. Not once in her life had Jean thought herself capable to care of someone. Especially not someone as mentally fragile and messed up as Pietro Maximoff.
He was in his own right...extremely dangerous. The offer of being so close to such a...furtive person was...slightly intoxicating. And it was an offer she normally wouldn't back out of. Most certainly not when the professor was counting on her.
Yet with the circumstances there was always room for a good reconsideration or two. So thus, with a set mind and determined look she marched off to the direction of the greenhouse.
In all the time that Jean had been at the institute, she had always found that the most peaceful place to go to be by oneself in the company of only ones thoughts was Ororo's gardens.
As a younger girl she had thought the flowers as fascinating and loved to go everyday after school to assist Ororo in watering them. Watching them grow, Ororo had once told her, could always take a person's mind off of their problems.
"It's amazing," Ororo told her one afternoon, "How inspiring it is to watch this small, young restless plant grow so stubbornly when there are such larger and imposing plants around it, just staring it down...waiting for it to give up. But it keeps on growing."
Jean recalled her rebuttal to the statement, "Oh Miss Munroe," she had giggled, "Only you could think of something like that."
Ororo had simply smiled the smile that often graced the lips of certain people. People that knew more than others understood. The smile smiled as they waited for the rest of the world to catch up to them.
These were the memories that flitted through Jeans hazy mind as she pushed gently on the foggy glass door. Sighing in awe as a lively exotic green obscured her vision and surrounded her with a sense of comfort and familiarity, she could only smile as more fond memories bubbled at the surface of her drifted mind.
"Ororo?" she called out tenderly sounding much like a child separated from her mother, "Are you there?" I need you to be here. "Ororo?" I need to talk. "Hello?"
There was a bustle of leaves as a head of white hair and flashes of dark skin poked out from the flaps of the larger plant leaves.
"Hello Jean." Ororo said as her eyes shone with happiness that the girl had sought her out in the correct place. "Is there something you need to speak to me about?" she said to the younger girl.
Jean smiled gently. "You can read me like a book Ororo." Yet the older woman simply shook her head at her.
"Any literate person can read a book, child. Some people just have to know what they are reading." She told her as she sat the thin tin watering can down with a clank next to a large, firm looking tree and motioned for Jean to come and stand with her.
"Do you recognize this tree?" she asked the red-headed girl after a moment or so of silence. Jean's head shook as she twitched her lips to the side as if trying to remember the name of an actor she knew she had seen before, but just couldn't place her finger on it.
She sighed giving up. "Not that I can recall. But it seems so familiar to me." She admitted as she let her eyes wonder to Ororo's face, seeing that her eyes were still firmly glued to the tree.
"This," Ororo began fondly "is the plant you first planted upon moving to the institute. I told you that as you grew, it would also grow. In beauty, size, and understanding to the other things and plants around it."
Jean had grown past making comments on Ororo's constant personification of plants. But looking at the strong, firm and steady looking plant it surprised her that it was so young. Breathing out she whispered, "I remember." As if having what an alcoholic would call a moment of clarity. She had a feeling she knew what Ororo was going to tell her.
"I know what you wish to talk to me about Jean." Ororo told her, the mildness of her mouth lifting into a stern smile. "Yet I believe that you've grown enough to the point that you understand the things, and people around you enough to do that on your own." Ororo told her somewhat firmly.
"Not only that," the woman continued, "But you have what many people do not. And that is an accurate understanding of yourself and a content and secure place in the world."
Jean's eyes filled with intensity as a war raged in the depths of her mind. 'What to do.' She pondered as her angels and demons weighed her pros and cons. Ororo, seeming to see her confliction said, "But if you would like my opinion-"
The offer hung in the air just like that. It seemed almost as if Jean had not heard her. Yet then she nodded. "I do." She told Ororo without any doubt in her mind.
Ororo sighed. Closed her eyes, and then opened them again. "Pietro is young, emotionally and mentally fragile. He is a young man with a wretched past and grim future. He lives in a world where nothing is certain and he has no room to be himself. Yet I doubt that even he knows who he is......but you do Jean." Ororo paused to give Jean a proud look then continued, "You know who you are. And I believe that if you try, that you can help him find out who he is too......but that is simply my opinion."
Jean bowed her head and with a soft smile leaned forward and hugged the woman that had been like a second mother to her.
She stood slowly, breathed deeply, nodded and walked towards her exit. She paused however, at the door, saying only, "Ororo sometimes I forget the I'm the mind reader,"
Her only response was a smile.
"Lance, I wouldn't ask you to do this if I didn't believe that it would be the best thing for both of us." Pietro stated in a monotonous tone as he let his gaze remain fixated on the white linins that wept with boredom and blandness.
Would these sheets be his life if he stayed at the Institute? Sure the offer had always been open.....but nothing was scarier than crossing the line to accept it. Nothing except for this.
"But," Lance began inarticulately, "That's what scares me, Pietro." He said in all honesty. "It's always been my job to do that....for you guys. But this time....this time I can't even be sure what's good for me."
Pietro sighed and lifted his gaze to meet that of Lance. "That's why I'm telling you. Whether you listen or not is entirely up to you and the others." He told him in an airy tone.
Lance gritted his teeth. "Could you please act a little more concerned about this!' he scolded Pietro in a harsh tone.
Frustrated Pietro through his hands into the air. "Oh excuse me! I'm sorry if I'm a bit cranky because I woke up with Jean Grey standing over me for the third time in the past two days while having a doctor continually tell me not to panic because they're trying the best they can to extract the blood from my eyes and EXSCUSE ME FOR BEING A LITTLE UPSET BECAUSE NO ONE WILL TELL ME WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING TO ME!"
Lance stood there for a moment in the silence as Pietro's heavy and angry breaths filled the room. "Stop yelling Pietro! I'm still out here you know!" Wanda called from outside the Infirmary door where she had apparently been listening to their conversation.
"Good," Pietro called back out to her, "Then find the doctor and ask him where my f*cking painkillers are!"
Lance smiled. "They'll think about it." Lance told him seriously. Pietro raised a quizzical eyebrow out him.
"They?" he questioned him with a never ending curiosity that seemed to constantly surround the human race.
Lance nodded. "You're right. What they do is entirely up to them....but I think I'll stay here with you."
They smiled at each other using that ever so sacred best friend smile. They wanted to hug but decided against it as to not disrupt their manly statue.
After awhile Pietro smacked his lips in a rather annoyed fashion. "You're staying because of Kitty aren't you?" he asked.
"Yeah pretty much." Lance told him as Pietro simply nodded. Disappointed that he had not though to use that tactical approach.
Jean opened the door to the Professors office with her eyes shining in the fashion of a girl that had all of her priorities straightened out. She looked as if she had just gotten off the craziest roller coaster of her life.
Yet she was only just about to board it. For she sealed her destiny the moment she walked up to the Professor's desk in a strident and confidant action and said, "Professor, I would love to be Pietro's caretaker."
DigitalAngel4U: That's all for now! I'll update soon as I can! Review and tell me what you think!