Shades of Grey

Disclaimer: Strangely enough, I'm not Marvel; hence, I do not own X-men.

A/N: I have another story, entitled "Shades of Gray"; these aren't the same story or anything like it, but I kind of liked the parallelism between the titles.

Scott Summers' hands were shaking as he mechanically tidied the papers on his fiance's desk. He still couldn't believe it. Jean—dead. Dead to save him and all the rest of her friends. Scott sank down, putting his head on the desk. "Jean…" he whispered. A hand fell on his shoulder. Startled, Scott turned, to find himself staring into the face of his one-time rival, Logan.

"Look, Shades, I'm sorry," Logan said, his face a stony, emotionless mask.

"Yeah, well, you know, I just keep wondering if I couldn't have done more…" Scott's voice trailed off in sorrow.

"There was nothin' any of us could have done. Kurt tried, but I guess she was just too distracted to let him."

"Yeah, I know. I just keep thinking there should have been something I could have done."

"What's this?" Logan asked suddenly, holding up a thick, leather-bound red book with a lock on the side.

"Oh, that? I haven't seen it in ages. It's Jean's diary."

"We should prob'ly burn it, shouldn't we?"

"Yes, I suppose," Scott sighed, but he respected Jean's right to privacy even in death, even though it meant losing the last piece of her that he had.

"Excuse me," a third person had entered the room. Scott glanced around, seeing the older, balding man in the wheelchair. "Hi, Professor," he said dully.

"I have something to give you. Jean told me that if she died before she had a chance to show you her diary herself, she wanted me to give you and Logan this."

In his hand was a small, gold key, scintillating in the bright sunlight as it dangled from its red, silken ribbon.

"You mean we can read Red's diary?" Logan asked slowly. The professor nodded, "Yes, Logan. I think she didn't want you to feel you had lost her completely."

Scott, almost unbelievingly, took the key from the professor's hand and inserted in into the lock of the leather-bound book. The book fell open in his hands.

This is the diary of

Jean Grey (hopefully to be Summers)

Scott's throat choked up as he read those words. "Oh, God," he muttered. Logan, reading over his shoulder, suppressed a sigh of disappointment.

Dear Diary,

I've never kept a diary before, and I'm not quite sure why I'm starting now. I think it's because my life has suddenly started to get much more perilous, and if I should die young (which I sincerely hope doesn't happen), I think I'd like my friends to be able to know what I thought and what I felt about some of the situations I think we're about to be flung into.

Professor Xavier says that Magneto is mustering his Brotherhood, and that war may not be far behind. He can't sense Magneto's thoughts for some reason, and I can see that it is troubling him. He takes every responsibility onto his own shoulders, Charles. In that, he's very like Scott. (If you're reading this, I love you, Scott, and I always will.)

Jean

"Oh, God," Scott muttered again, and Logan sighed once more.

Dear Diary,

Scott and Ororo have gone to intercept two mutants whom Professor Xavier thinks may be in danger from Magneto. He has located them as being somewhere up in Canada, and we can only hope the Blackbird is fast enough to get there in time.

I'm afraid I stopped writing rather abruptly. A good deal has happened since my last entry. The two new mutants have arrived. The first is a young girl named Marie, although she prefers to go by 'Rogue'. I wonder where she found that pseudonym. She seems to have been a perfectly normal teenager until her power kicked in—during her first kiss, actually. Poor kid. Her power is to absorb the life-energy of other humans whenever they contact her bare skin, so she is barred from intimate physical contact with anyone, possibly for the rest of her life.

My feelings about our second new arrival are rather more mixed. Logan, a.k.a. 'Wolverine' was brought in badly injured, but I discovered that his power is uncharted regenerative powers—in simple English, fast healing. I was checking him over, and I started to give him a shot, to make sure he hadn't become infected. Well! He surged right out of bed, breaking the needle off in his arm, may I add, and the next thing I knew, he had me in a choke-lock and I couldn't breathe! Fortunately, he didn't seem too insane, because he let me go, sort of snarled at me, and took off down the corridor like the hounds of Hell were at his heels. I hear he interrupted the Professor's class. Kitty Pryde came into sickbay later in the day.

"Hi, Jean," she said. "Did you hear about that new mutant patient of yours?"

"Um…which one?" I responded, puzzled.

"That guy with the, like, claws."

"Oh, him," I muttered, annoyed. I really don't like being nearly choked. It's not a pleasant experience. "What about him?"

"He bumbled right into my physics class today. Professor X is sending him down here for a physical."

"Oh. All right. Thank you, Kitty," I sighed, reminding myself not to kill the messenger. Why do I have to be doing a physical for Mr. Let's-just-get-off-the-operating-table-and-try-to-choke-the-doctor? Oh…I hear footsteps. It's probably him now.

I have to write by flashlight, because Scott is very tired and trying to sleep. I don't think he's in a good mood, poor dear. I studied Logan today. He has three adamantium claws, and that so-called invincible metal has been grafted to his entire skeleton.

I took him up to his room, to show him where it was.

"So, where's your room?" he asked me.

"Down the hall, with Scott," I replied, pointing my thumb in the general direction, and feigning innocence. He just grunted at me. Then he went on, "So, what's your power? Putting up with that guy?"

I breathed hard. Scott and Logan have been at loggerheads since Logan arrived, and it's beginning to get on my nerves.

"No," I replied, calmly. "I'm telekinetic."

"Meaning…"

How can someone be so dull? "I move things with my mind."

"What kinds of things?"

"All kinds of things," I said as I motioned the closet door behind him shut with a dull thump. I startled him a little.

"I also have some telepathic abilities," I continued, feeling I wasn't really being very charitable. After all, Logan is new.

"What, like your professor?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

I shook my head, regretfully, "Nowhere near that powerful. But he's teaching me to develop it."

He crossed his arms across his chest. "So read my mind."

I folded my arms at him, raising my eyebrows. "Uh-uh," I said.

"Why not? Afraid you might like it?"

That dirty rat! "I doubt it."

"C'mon…"

So I did. I put my hands up to the air beside his head and peered inside. I don't like reading people's minds. It frightens me, sometimes, because I don't always understand what I see. This time, I was very frightened.

Lying on a metal table…faces…voices…a fey, greenish light all around me…liquid…pain…I jerked back from Logan's head. He, clearly not sensing my distress, asked, "What do you see?"

"Scott!" I exclaimed. Scott was leaning against the doorframe, not looking too happy. Oops. I hope he isn't too mad. I glanced back at them as I left, and they didn't look happy. I thought I heard Logan saying something about, "going to tell me to stay away from your girl?" Scott didn't say much to me tonight. I hope he isn't getting jealous. He should know that I'd never…no, that's not fair. If he knew, then he wouldn't have any respect for my free will, and I would. He doesn't, so I don't.

Jean

Dear Diary,

So much has happened since I last wrote that I'm not quite sure where to begin. It started the night after the Logan/Scott disaster. I had just come up to get ready for bed, and Scott had just kissed me, when there was a commotion in the hallway. We rushed out just in time to see Rogue, in a pink nightgown with a hood, hurrying back to her dormitory with a stricken look on her face.

Following the commotion to its source, we reached Logan's room. He was convulsing or something, and lying on the floor by his bed. I dropped to my knees and felt for his pulse, which was very weak. I looked up at Scott. "We should get him down to sickbay," I said anxiously.

Scott grunted a little, annoyed at the fact that I was treating Logan, not him, but he bowed to the necessity of the circumstances.

I discovered that there was nothing much wrong with Logan after his brush-in with Rogue, but if she had held on any longer, there might not have been cause for Scott to be jealous. Fortunately, she didn't, so I was able to wake Logan up (more carefully than when I first met him), and no harm was done. Or, at least, so I believed at the time.

Later that afternoon, Rogue turned up missing. Professor Xavier found her by using Cerebro, but she was at the train station by that time. The Professor told Scott and Ororo to go after her, and he took me with him in his car, round to the front, as a precaution.

When we were settled in, I took the chance to speak to him about something. "Professor?" I said, my face lined with worry.

"Yes, Jean? Is something the matter?"

"May I talk to you?"

"Of course. That's at least part of what I'm here for."

"Um…it's about Scott and Logan," I began hesitantly.

"Ah."

"They've been—well, they've been at loggerheads since day one, and I just don't know what to do."

"Well, you love Scott, is that right, Jean?"

I was surprised at how tough that question was to answer, but I managed it, "Yes," I replied, firmly, after a long pause.

"Then you don't need to do anything about it."

"It's just that…Logan is…very…compelling, but…well, and I do feel something for him, but, I guess girls flirt with the dangerous guy, but they marry the good guy."

Now why did I say that? I wondered. Scott is a 'good guy', and Logan is a 'dangerous guy', but Scott can also be dangerous and Logan can also be good. I'm just really confused, I suppose. But if I stop to think about it, I know I have to marry Scott. Because I love him. Because I've always loved him. And because, because…he's always been there for me.

I haven't written in a long time. So much has happened since that night. We lost Rogue to Magneto; we recovered her, but she was dead. And then Logan held onto her, and held onto her…just when he must have thought it wasn't going to work, her power kicked in. She's okay now. But is Logan?

I've been sitting next to him, sitting with him for half the night now. I'm so tired; I want to go to bed; I want Scott to tell me that this wasn't my fault somehow. I guess I know it wasn't. But I still feel guilty. Logan is moving, a little. That's a good sign. He's not in a coma anymore.

I rest my hand on his and whisper in his ear, "Logan, can you hear me? Logan?"

His eyes are fluttering. I can't believe it! "Logan?"

And his eyes open and he looks up at me and says, "Hi, Red." That's all. Just, "Hi, Red." I'm so relieved, I could almost kiss him! Almost. Instead, I smile at him and touch his face softly with my hand.

"Welcome back," I say.

Jean

Dear Diary,

Oh, God help me. What do I do? Scott has vanished, as has the Professor. We can't find them. We've had to join forces with Magneto! Magneto of all people! And…and…Logan kissed me.

Scott looked up from the diary and met Logan with a horrified gaze.

"You kissed her?"

Logan shifted uncomfortably. "I…uh…I…"

"You…you…son of a…"

"Just read the damn diary, okay?"

Scott, with difficulty, controlled his rising temper and turned his attention back to the little, leather-bound book.

I can't believe it, but he did. I was standing there, and he took me in his arms, and kissed me. For half a second, I guess, it actually felt good, standing there with his arms wrapped tight around me,

Scott's face was pained as he looked up at Logan. "Did she like it, Logan? Please God tell me she didn't like it."

Logan met his eyes compassionately, "Just read, Summers," he growled, his voice threatening to break.

…standing there with his arms wrapped tight around me, but then I opened my eyes and looked at his face, and all I could see was Scott, alone somewhere, maybe hurt, and I knew I couldn't do this to him, couldn't let Logan come between us like this. I pushed away from him and gave him a crooked smile, shaking my head slightly, but at the same time I was pleading with him, and I said, "Logan…don't do this to me, please. Please don't make me do this."

He looked so hurt. I felt so sorry for him, but I knew I had to say it. Then his eyes dropped, and so did his arms, and he nodded slightly, and I hurried away up the stairs.

The words ended abruptly there, and Scott rubbed his arm across his face. He looked up at Logan standing over him, and almost managed to smile. "She loved me, Logan," he said brokenly. "She really did. She loved me."

Then he dropped the diary and sank to the bed, sobbing. Shocked, Logan stood, frozen. Suddenly, the Professor's head peered round the door again. "Scott, Logan," he said. Both of the men felt a brief telepathic touch of strength and comfort from him. They looked up, Scott's hair disheveled, and his face blotched, Logan's jaw and fists clenched tightly.

"I have a gift for you. It will, perhaps, be more of a burden, but Jean left it with me before she died."

"Did she want us to have it?" Scott managed.

"Yes. I believe so."

"Then give it to us. We can handle it," Logan cut in roughly.

"Very well."

I'm running, looking, searching, looking for Scott. Scott! Where are you? Where are you? Scott? Is that you? You look so strange. You…what are you doing? No, Scott! It's me, Jean. Stop! I can stop you, but I don't want to hurt you, please Scott…they're controlling you, aren't they? I turn aside the beams, but one has already hit me in the leg…it hurts, but not badly. But I can feel something which worries me much more. Scott's beams…they're destabilizing the dam. No, they can't be, can they?

Scott? Is it you? Is it really you? He's hugging me, telling me he's sorry, telling me he loves me. Now he wants to get us out of here. How do I tell him that I have a nightmarish feeling that we can't, that I, at least, will be trapped here forever?

He's helping me to my feet. My injured leg can barely support my weight, but he's put his arm under my shoulders and we're moving toward the exit. Moving…

…Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh! God, Scott, what's happening! My head…oh, my head…it hurts…he's clutching his head too…we're sinking to the ground, and as the pain threatens to rub me out, to push me into oblivion, I know what has happened. Somehow, Stryker is using the Professor, and he's concentrating on all of us…all the mutants…concentrating hard enough to blot us out…we'll die…but Scott's arms are around me, and the world is fading…somehow it doesn't seem to matter so much anymore…

…it's gone. The pain is gone. My head is still muzzy with it, but Scott and I push against one another and look into each other's eyes. We both know what the other felt during that agony of living Hell, and we're both sorry we couldn't protect the other from it. We get up. I lean on Scott. We make our slow, tortuous way out of the labyrinth of underground passageways towards the Blackbird…

…It's not working! We're not lifting off! Oh, God, the water just keeps coming, closer and closer…we're all going to die, me and Scott and Logan…I can't let them die. I can't. But what can I do?…What if I stopped the wall of water? But I couldn't hold it off for long…I'm not strong enough. If I could repair the Blackbird and make it lift off in that time, though…but then…then…I wouldn't be able to get back on. Oh, God. I'd…I'd die. But if I don't…then all my friends will perish. I've got to go.

I walk quickly and silently to the back of the Blackbird and slip out, glancing back once more at Scott. Oh, Scott, my darling, my love, I will miss you.

I'm outside. Inside, I can hear a chatter of minds, of voices. I think they've noticed. I've got to act now. The water comes crashing down, cold, so, so, cold, and I'm moving it, and now my mind is in the Blackbird, moving wires, conducting repairs, but I'm tiring…I can't keep this up…I'm so tired…I need help. I reach out; I can feel the Professor's mind. I tap into his strength; I know Nightcrawler is about to come for me, but I can't let him, because I know if I am distracted for even an instant, they will all be drowned, so I stop him, and, far away, I think I hear Scott's angry cry of pain.

I must comfort him. I am there; I am the Professor. I look at Scott, and he looks back, and he knows that it's me, I'm sure he does.

"Goodbye, Scott…" it's all I can say. And then his face is gone, the Blackbird is lifting off, and all there is is cold, dark water all around me, forcing me down…my mind is drifting, losing consciousness…the darkness is comforting, and I can't feel anything. If this is death, it isn't so bad…

…but I can't let go. Scott needs me. He needs me…

…Scott, if you can hear me, I'll be back for you. I won't leave you. That's a promise.

Fin.