A/N: Wow, over 100 reviews? You are all so amazing! I really hate that it takes me so long to update, but you have to know that I do try to get these chapters up as soon as I possibly can. If you can't understand that I'm doing my best, don't bother reading my fic, I don't appreciate being chewed out for not getting a chapter up fast enough for your satisfaction. Thanks to all those who have been so understanding!

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing except for any changes to the plot that you don't recognize.

"Normal speaking"

'telepathically speaking'

'thoughts'

XxX

Dr. Ami Foster paced nervously back and forth across the small room, occasionally pausing to glance down at her still "sleeping" patient. He had yet to wake from the anesthetic she'd administered, it having been a sufficiently large amount. It wasn't that she was concerned for her safety, or that she'd believed his mutation would have any effect on the medication, she'd simply believed it would be kinder to the boy to remain ignorant to Trask's demands.

There was a dull click as the bolt slid out from the door. Dr. Foster stepped backwards, her thighs colliding with the cold edge of the operation table. Though Brutus moved aside from the doorway in order to allow Trask to enter, he never once took his hard eyes of Dr. Foster. He stared coldly at her, emotionless eyes boring holes through her defenses. She was uncertain as to what the man was thinking, but she was sure she didn't want to know. Could he merely be hoping for some minor slip, an excuse to turn her over to Trask? She glanced at the man again, shivers creeping down her spine as she observed the cruel curl of his lip. She would not give this man any reason to do so much as speak to her.

"Dr. Foster," Trask gave a curt nod as he shut the door behind him. "The tests went well I presume?"

Dr. Foster nodded, forcing herself to speak in terms that Trask would find appropriate. "The mutant is a very interesting specimen. He seems to have suffered some brain damage, though it appears to have been at a young age, and yet he appears to be the strongest mutant you've brought in so far. It took a full sixty seconds before he completely reacted to the anesthesia." She gestured to one of the X-rays hanging above a light table. "He has a slight fracture in his skull; the result, I assume, from whatever method was used to cause him to lose consciousness last night. But it should not interfere with the project. He's healthy and well-toned, suggesting intense regular training or exercise. He shows no abnormalities, no negative responses to allergens, and no medical deficiencies of any sort other than the slight brain damage."

Trask nodded, absorbing this information. "Good. I want a team in here immediately to begin work on the serum."

"Yes, sir," she bowed her head, waiting for the man to leave.

Trask crossed the room to where she stood, placing his mouth beside her ear as he whispered menacingly, "No mistakes this time, Foster, or you will pay dearly. I believe you have a ten-year-old daughter?" He left the question dangly suggestively.

"You wouldn't," Dr. Foster stared disbelievingly at him, hatred emanating from her dark eyes.

"Oh, believe me, Foster. I most certainly would."

XxX

"So, remind me again what we're doing in here?" Jean's voice was laced with doubt as she peered around Scott's empty room.

Kitty rolled her eyes inwardly, yet she took a gentle patient tone with Jean. "Looking for anything out of place. I know Scott was probably kidnapped, but there's still a small chance ha may have disappeared on his own will. If you really want to find him, we can't rule out any options."

Jean stared blankly at the room, 'Look for anything out of place? The whole room is out of place!' It was true, the early call had caused Scott to leave his room in haste, leaving it completely unorganized and un-Scott-like. His comforter was half-piled on the floor and his sheets were a crumpled, twisted ball at the foot of the bed. A night-shirt lay atop scattered school books and his glasses had been knocked from his nightstand to the floor. Bending down, Jean gingerly returned the ruby-quartz shades to their spot on the bed table.

She let out a defeated sigh as she glanced around the room. 'If I was Scott and I wanted to leave, what would I do?' Her eyes lit on his tidy desk where one of his drawers was wedged open. A small leather-bound book had been shoved in, its corner catching at an angle as though stuffed there after a last minute thought. Glancing furtively at Kitty, Jean gently removed the book. It had an aura of secrecy radiating from it. Jean had a feeling Scott wouldn't have wanted anyone to find this book, and the powerful weight that had descended on her told her she should probably put it back, but Kitty's words lingered in her mind. Now was no time to respect Scott's privacy, especially if information in the book could save him. Still, she felt the need to keep the book as secret as possible, so she tucked it within the folds of her shirt, vowing to come back to it when she was safe in the confines of her own room.

XxX

Hours passed by slowly in the cold lab as assistants ran back and forth between work stations; measuring chemicals in graduated cylinders, adding to assorted test tubes, making slides and viewing them beneath microscopes, and scribbling various notes on their clipboards. Dr. Ami Foster looked around the room in dismay, feeling a headache begin to creep into her temples. She massaged her forehead with her hand, nothing was going as planned. At this rate they may never discover the mutant gene, and if they never discovered the mutant gene . . . Foster shook the thought from her mind. She would not allow herself to think on Trask's threats, that only made them more real, they would only serve to distract her. Glancing down at her watch she moved to the front of the room. "Trask will be here in under an hour!" She yelled over the noise, "We need to have something to show by then!" The numerous assistants muttered in assent, turning back to their stations, knowing all to well that when the time came they would have nothing to show.

XxX

Hands trembling at the thought of finding Scott, Jean opened the book, breathing in its calming scent: a mix of old spice and soap, the smell of Scott. The title page was a messy scrawl of blue ink; Jan could barely make out Scott's name and the dat (some six years earlier). Intrigued, Jean moved on to the next page where she was met by smears of the same ink and scrawl.

Storm says I shouldn't be embarrassed for having a journal. I guess she's right, lots of guys have journals; Doug Funny, Jack Gantos, that guy in "The Wonder Years" . . . so why can't I?

Jean smiled, Scott kept a diary? She could almost picture him sitting there, tongue in his cheek, head bent over the journal, bangs falling over his eyes . . . Jean felt a deep, heart-wrenching ache in her chest. Reading entries from six years ago was not going to help her find Scott. Feeling somewhat flustered, Jean flipped towards the later half of the book. "Come on, Scott," she murmured, "show me what I need to see."

The first thing Jean noticed about the latest entry was how much Scott's penmanship had improved over the last few years. Of course, his first entries must have been right after he regained his sight, so it was normal for him to have to relearn his writing skills. The next thing she noticed was the date; it was the day before Scott had disappeared. Jean eagerly bent over the notebook, greedily drinking in its contents.

Jean knows. Not the full truth, of course, but she knows I was never in love with Taryn, and she knows that I'm in love with someone else. She's finally beginning to understand, she knows I'm serious about this one, that it's not some silly junior high crush. All that's missing from the picture in her mind is the girl. It bothers her, I can tell, she hates not being able to know. If only I could paint a picture of how she looked today when I told her, she was so frustrated, despite that she was trying to appear happy for me. She doesn't know that the girl I love, the one I've always loved, is her.

The book fell from Jean's hands, tumbling freely to the ground. "Scott loves me?"

XxX

"Dr. Foster, report." Trask stared coldly at the Asian doctor.

Ami Foster glanced nervously at her team of assembled genetic scientists, but they all avoided her gaze. Suddenly she felt ten-years-old again, standing in front of a brutal teacher with none of her fellow students to back her. She coughed, clearing her throat. "We're having trouble identifying the mutant gene."

Trask banged his fist on the metal counter, causing many of the newer lab assistants to jump. "What am I paying you people for?" he roared. "Incompetent fools! I give you one simple task! How much longer will this take? Tell me you've made some progress."

"Of course," Foster said quickly, "We just need a bit more time."

Trask glanced at his watch. "You have two hours, I suggest you hurry."

The group of lab assistants scurried to their respective positions, huddling over microscopes and adding various chemicals to test tubes. Dr. Foster turned back to her clipboard, frowning down at the nonsensical figures and equations crawling across the page. Something wasn't adding up. Foster glanced back at her notes before adjusting the focus on her microscope. Perhaps she'd been looking in the wrong place all along. She focused in on a body cell, adding a drop of methylene blue to the slide. She pulled the nucleus into focus before switching to a higher power. After studying the complications of the organelle for a moment, Foster turned back to her clipboard, scribbling furiously on her notes. What were the chances that the gene was located among the double-helix formation of a Deoxyribonucleic Acid nucleotide? That the "X" gene had originated from an abnormality in one of the nitrogen bases?

"Trask!" Her voice trembled, overcome with triumphant pride. "I've found it!" Assistants crowded around her excitedly as she demonstrated how she'd located the gene, trying not to gloat. For a moment she forgot the consequences of her discovery, forgot the suffering it would undoubtedly cause. For a moment she was Dr. Ami Foster, Ivy League graduate and proud parent, not Dr. Foster, pawn of ruthless Trask.

"Excellent," Trask nodded. "You're all permitted an hour break. But I expect you all back here by 2:15 to commence the search for an inhibitory serum."

XxX

Jean tapped her pencil repeatedly against her chin, staring absently at the sheet of calculus problems Kitty had brought home for her. After recovering from the initial shock of what she'd found in Scott's diary, Jean had decided to put it from her mind and had committed herself to hours of intense studying.

"Je-ean!" Jamie Madrox's voice echoed up the stairwell. "Phone for you!"

"Thanks, Jamie!" she yelled back down. "Can you put it on hold? I'll get it up here!"

"They're holding!"

Jean rolled her eyes at Jamie's love for yelling up and down the stairs. "Hello?" she spoke into the phone.

"Hey, Jean! It's Sandy."

"Oh, hey Sandy. What's up?" Jean started doodling on a pad of paper she had by the phone. It was an old habit of hers, one she'd never quite been able to get over.

"You weren't in school today," Sandy pointed out, "I was just calling to see how you were."

Jean smiled at her friend's concern, "I'm okay now, I guess. I just felt really awful this morning, couldn't get out of bed."

"Oh, that's too bad." There was a pause. "Scott wasn't in school either."

"Yeah I know," Jean wracked her brain for a plausible excuse. "There's a bit of a flu going around, I think we both got it. He's been in his room all day, I haven't even seen him. Guess he's got it worse than I do."

"Yeah, that's too bad." Sandy paused again, "Jean, I think you should know Taryn's saying some things about you and Scott."

Jean kept doodling, Taryn was always saying things, what else was new? "Oh, like what?"

Sandy seemed unable to keep it in any longer, "That you two cut school today to go out together."

Jean forced a laugh, trying to keep tears from her eyes. 'You have no idea how much I wish that were true.' "Nothing could be further from the truth, Sandy. I was in bed all morning and have been doing homework since Kitty brought it home for me. As for Scott, well . . . as far as I know he hasn't even gotten out of bed."

"Oh, okay," Sandy sounded relieved. "I just though you should know, Taryn's getting a bit suspicious. After Duncan's party . . . well, you two did kind of leave together."

Jean had to laugh at that one. "Sandy, I ran out of the house crying 'cause Duncan had tried to force me into something I didn't want, and Scott came to comfort me and give me a ride home. He's my best friend, okay? You really think something is going on between the two of us?"

"No, I guess not. Well, I probably should go, Matt wants to call up one of his friends about some stupid football game." Jean could sense Sandy rolling her eyes on the other end of the phone. "I'll talk to you later."

"Yeah, see you!"

"Bye."

Jean set the phone gently in its cradle, shaking her head at what she'd just heard. Taryn was always one for jumping to conclusions. If something had gone wrong between her and Scott it most certainly wasn't her fault, so it must have been caused by some outside factor, like Jean. 'I can't believe I've been friends with her for this long. She really can be a witch.' Jean looked down at the mass of doodles she collected during her phone conversation. Her eyes landed on a strange shape, one that she couldn't remember ever having seen before, one that she certainly wouldn't have ever have drawn. She closed her eyes, searching her mind for whatever had produced the image, and was suddenly overcome by emotion. When she opened her eyes, everything she saw was red. She was trapped in a dark cell, one with barely enough light to see the insignia carved on the door. She gasped as she recognized the insignia as the drawing she'd down during her conversation. She closed her eyes once more, and when she opened them she was lying panting in her own room, only one word lingering on her mind. "Scott."

XxX

A/N: And that's all for now! Hey, look, I've updated twice in the same month! Anyway, hope you all liked this chapter! I promise most questions will be answered next time, seeing as how next time will most likely be the rescue mission! ;) Please review! You know they help me write faster!

Wen1: Of course JOTT Forever! And don't worry, I'm hoping they find Scott in the next chapter. No promises, though.
Idypesbsaby: Thanks for being so understanding about the slow updates! School does suck, most of the time. I hope this chapter cleared a lot up for you!
Mark C: I'm glad you liked the part with Kitty, I was really hoping it would have that effect.
GothikStrawberry: hugs back I'm actually liking Foster's character, she's fun to write.
FastpitchDevil: I hope this chapter wasn't too confusing, I'm hoping it answered some of the questions people had about Foster in the last chapter. Glad you found the last chapter easy to understand!
jott luuuuuuuuuver: Glad you like it so far Jott forever!
LanceIsHot: I'm glad you liked that little side story about Scott. I wrote that awhile back, when I'd just started the story, and once the story developed that part didn't seem to fit very well, but I had to put it in.
Goblyn-Queen: Hope this was up soon enough!
Amber Moons: Aren't snow days one of the greatest ideas of mankind?
Diaz F: No, Kitty didn't really know where to find him, but what she helped Jean find may have just made the connection between Jean and Scott a little bit stronger.
s-summers1986: I'm glad you like the story, and I'm sorry the updates take so long, but I don't have much choice. Unfortunately, this fic can't be my first priority all the time.
Lavender Gaia: I very much agree with you about Duncan, there is a very thin line between where he is now and psychotic. And you're right, of course, about Jean and Scott. Hopefully they'll be together by the end of the next chapter.
Demonestress: Very good point about Jean. But aren't we all occasionally blind to our true feelings?

Please Review!

DOJ