After The Fact 4
BAM. Sorry for the minor hiatus there! I recently started up a new RP, and it stole away all my creative time. Writing has progressed slowly, but I hope to get the two series I have currently finished before mid-August.
Mmh. And I don't own the X-men. Just like to manipulate them to fit my fics. :)
The echoes of the man's footsteps sounded horribly lonesome. The last Scott Summers had seen of Jean was the faintest glimpse of Phoenix rising. It had been him who'd awaken her; due to uncontrolled anger and a blind shot into the lake. He regretted it, and honestly feared Jean's fate. He'd seen the tombstones, and Professor Xavier's memorial. Now that he was rested up and healed for the most part, he was making his way towards his room; he needed to sort himself out yet again before doing much of anything else.
Jean's heart thudded in her ears as she walked quietly down the hallway. Now that she had been unearthed and healed, all that was left was for her mind to calm down. When Phoenix reigned, Jean saw nothing. Jean hardly remembered any of what had happened in the past few weeks, and if she remembered something, the visions only came in bits and pieces; flashes of horrible scenarios. The last Jean Grey had seen of Scott was just when Phoenix rose to full control. The memory came to her vividly: the two embracing, Scott without his ruby glasses, and then they'd kissed. Her pace slowed as a grief-stricken face came over her. She then put a hand to her mouth as tears flooded into her eyes. Jean leaned against a wall in a feeble attempt to keep her balance, and to keep her from losing her sanity. Her breath came in short gasps, and in between the choking tears and blinking she uttered, "No… No… H-he can't b-be…" And then she freely cried into the arm of her sweater. She couldn't bring herself to even say it.
His eyes were catalysts, he'd decided. If not for the optic blast into Alkali Lake, Jean would have never returned. Phoenix wouldn't have awoken. They wouldn't have kissed. His heart skipped a beat. He could have been killed by that kiss, but he'd miraculously survived. How? He made guesses, but all of them were ludicrous. He thought several times of the clichéd "love conquers all," option, but could love really conquer? Had it been the love that he and Jean shared that had saved him from Phoenix? Of course not, he thought. It was absurd. That was only true in the movies.
Jean too had seen the graves; shuddering after being unearthed and turning around to see her name staring down at her on a tombstone. She faintly recalled hearing a scream after her eyes laid on the three identical memorials. Had it been her own? But immediately afterwards, her mind flooded with questions. Who had killed them? Why? Had it been her? Had it been Phoenix? And again, why? Jean shifted so that her back lied parallel against the wood paneling. She drew in a quick breath, as if someone had touched ice to her back, and released it in a shaky sigh. Who was to say Scott was alive? She blindly believed that he had survived Phoenix, but after being told what she'd done to Charles, her heart had sunk.
What they would give to be with each other again, they had thought simultaneously.
How long had Phoenix really been awake? He wondered. Had she been there all along, and he had just never realized it? The day at the lake stabbed him in the back. Scott had gone to regain his sanity; to stop Jean from haunting his every waking moment. What did he get? Thrown to the ground, a likely minor concussion, a kiss, and then a blow that sent him unconscious for god only knows how long. He'd woken in a hospital. Somehow he'd managed to the mansion.
Jean had been stuck in the stomach. She'd felt the blood leave her, and then her consciousness leaving her. Logan thought he'd killed her. Little did anyone realize, Jean had also been claimed "dead" due to the entirety of Alkali Lake collapsing on her. The claw wounds may have silenced her, but they would not keep Jean Grey dead for long.
He made it 'round the bend. His hands were firmly jammed into his pockets. Jean still leaned against the wall, wallowing in her disastrous memories. It'd taken a moment for the two to even acknowledge each other.
She's okay, Scott thought, his eyes feeling as if they would spring tears from behind the ruby glasses.
Oh god…I've died… That's it…I just died. I died and he we are again in the after-life. Jean convinced herself it was the only logical explanation for Scott's return.
Scott swallowed and called dryly, "Jean?"
So much for that idea. Jean's eyes rested on his figure. This is too real, she decided.
The two strode towards one and other, not running, merely walking. The day's warm afternoon light filtered into the room; the faultless blue sky and rolling clouds reflected a perfect summer day outside. After what seemed hours, the two stood mere inches apart.
Jean faltered over her words. However, words were not needed when the two pulled into the tightest of embraces. Jean's heart jumped out of her chest. Scott could literally breathe in their happiness. His heart stopped, and her insides seemed to disappear.
"I thought you were dead," Jean whispered, pulling away only to the slightest extent.
"For a while I did too," Scott replied, a faint chuckle slipping from his breath.
Her arms were around his neck, while one of his was around her waist and the other was around her back, lacing up to her shoulder. "Don't let go," Jean whispered, her voice breaking. "It's been so long," she added in a barely audibly voice as she began to cry into his shoulder; her tears seeping into his jacket.
His grip tightened on him as her fingers extended to the opposing shoulders.
"How did you get back?" Jean murmured.
His hand tailed over her red waves and his fingers lingered between the strands. "Funny story," he breathed, recalling the hectic situation. "I woke up in a hospital in Canada, no less, and when I did actually open my eyes, I…" his voice dropped, "I killed the nurse, by accident, of course." A shudder ran down his spine. If he hadn't been found, he could have easily been killed by some other cruel person that came along, or by a wild animal. Luckily hikers had found Scott not too long after Phoenix had thrown him unconscious. Again he gave thanks that he was alive and hadn't been captured or even held captive; there was no guarantee that he wouldn't have been taken for testing even after the hospital treatment. However, as soon as Scott had woken in the hospital, the doctor immediately snapped to the fact he was a mutant. When Scott was demanding to be taken home, the doctor and additional nurses attempted to sedate him, but being hard-headed as he was, he fought against them. After a phone call, with Logan being the one to answer it, and he hearing Scott shouting in the background, he was escorted back. Looking back on it, anyone who'd looked in on the situation would have probably been able to compare Scott to a trapped animal and would have found many similarities.
Jean looked up to him, her light brown eyes filtering the sun light in the hallway. "And you ran, didn't you?" she concluded as he lost himself in the recollection of the memories.
"No," he raised his eyebrows briefly and concluded, "they called here and Storm came and got me."
Silence reigned for a long time after that. Jean was debating whether or not to retell the entire Phoenix incident, and eventually decided against it.
"I…" the word was inaudible. Jean shifted uncertainly, her arms falling between her and Scott's bodies. "I missed you," she whispered.
Their lips met, and broke apart quickly.
"Last time this happened you tried to kill me," he breathed.
"It's okay," she whispered, bringing them back together.
Coming around the corner rather quickly were Ororo and Logan, both going on about something incessant. The two thundered down the halls, and once they turned the corner, Ororo threw her arm across Logan's front. She then smiled tenderly, and looked to Logan through the corner of her eye.
"Oh, so what…they're making out," Logan murmured in response, rolling his eyes.
Scott's hand rose to the small of her back, and she inhaled sharply at the action. Logan nearly laughed out of spite.
"Give them their time, Logan… When was the last time you saw them to anything in the open?" Ororo replied, her smile undying. She'd considered the two her closest friends since shortly after she'd arrived at the mansion, and seeing the two together, like this no less, was rare. However, she felt a sense of pride for the two.
Jean and Scott broke apart, but quickly found out they had been watched. Jean closed her eyes and forced an embarrassed laugh. She then put her hands over her mouth as she felt the color rising to her cheeks. Scott too forced a laugh, but then stated, "Hey, Logan… I thought I told you to stay away from my girl." Jean had a hard time suppressing the laughter in her throat. Scott's arms were still around her, and he was rubbing her shoulder as he grinned in a I-told-you-so fashion at Logan.
Logan threw up his arms in his own defense. He then pointed at Ororo and growled, "I was just walking by, Cyke. 'Roro's idea."
"I'm not backing you up…don't look at me," Ororo replied as she raised an eyebrow.
"I think six stab wounds to the stomach means you got awfully damn close," Scott shot back, raising an eyebrow himself.
Logan stammered, "Oh..you cannot even…" He then advanced, but Storm managed to push him back. She gave him the stern smirk, and he backed off only temporarily.
Logan would have his way eventually.
---
"…Do…do you remember any of it?" he asked reluctantly.
"I'd rather not…" she breathed.
The most famous couple in the mansion now lurked in their suite. After a short meeting in the hallway late in the afternoon, they made off towards their room, Jean still tearing up slightly and Scott in utter disbelief. Now she sat on the edge of the bed, one leg folded under her body and the other draped over the side of the mattress. He stood in the view of the mirror of the bathroom attached to their room, running a hand over his face repeatedly. They were trying to relax, or at least calm to their senses. Jean was shaken, Scott was having a hard time getting a grip on reality.
"…but I think I can tell you what I know…" Jean added after a moment.
Scott looked from the mirror to the woman sitting on the edge of the bed. His face looked pained and pitying, but he said nothing.
"…you. You woke me up…didn't you?" Jean began in a whisper. "I remembered you…and I remembered…a hug..or a kiss or something… But then you were gone and it was dark… Next time I came to I was staring at Logan in the infirmary…but everything was off, the monitors were screwing up and my powers were going crazy."
"Jean," he whispered, exiting the extended room and sitting behind her on the bed. "I'm so sorry…" But what could he have honestly done? He only had been attempted-murdered by Phoenix herself. However he knew from practically first hand experience what it meant when her powers went "crazy." Before she continued he ran a hand through her hair much as a kitten would with a river of yarn, and then he drew the red waves to the side and stroked her shoulders.
Her eyes fell closed as her hair now fell over her shoulder, but she continued with, "Things happened…I only got little bits, and nothing ever lasted long. I remember Logan chasing after me in the forest…but Magneto came in and it went away again.. And then everything was red…" She grimaced bitterly, "God, Scott…everything was so red…" He knew that feeling very well.
Her thoughts drifted as she tried to collect legitimate words, and Scott pulled her closer, her hands falling around her waist. "It's okay…you don't need to go on—" Yet she cut him off with, "And then everything went cold. No red, no blackness like before…just pain. I'd been hit or something… Come to find out I was 'killed.'"
"And you came back," he finished for her. She nodded. Then one of her hands trailed between his fingers, and the two just sat together for a long moment in silence. He glanced down upon her hand wedging within his, and then whispered, "You…you're wearing the ring?"
Her cheeks instantly flushed and she sniffed loudly, already fighting the painful tears of recollection, and fearing tears of guilt coming on. "Um…yes… I…I didn't want to give up on you," she whispered, "I saw the memorial…but I…I just couldn't believe it."
"Good thing," he murmured. His fingers withdrew from her now limp hand, and he brushed the ring. It had honestly brought extreme joy that Jean had worn the ring in honor of him; much of a tribute to him or something of the like.
He pulled away for a moment, and as he did Jean took the time to wipe furiously at her reddened eyes. She heard a drawer scrape open behind her, and then slide close a few seconds later, and he took his place behind her again with his chin against her head and a hand around her middle. The other hand gripped a familiar box loosely, and he murmured, "You want to do the honors?"
Jean sniffled quietly and then reluctantly took the box from his palm, opening it to find his ring. Her finger ran the distance of the band, and as she plucked it from the casing, she chuckled as it slid onto her finger with ease; this due to the fact it was quite a bit larger than her own ring. However she retrieved it and then slid it onto Scott's hand. Their fingers wove together again, and she mused, "You think we should tell them?"
"I don't know…" he stated.
"You know I'm sorry right?"
He looked perplexed for a moment and then replied, "Of course, Jean."
Her mouth opened and the words were in her mind, but she couldn't get herself to say it. She needed to tell him. Instead, her lip quivered. She gave a heavy exhale and then leaned against his shoulders.
"You okay?" he questioned, concerned for her as always.
She shook her head halfheartedly and then scowled at her inability to just get two words out. Finally she whispered, "I'm pregnant, Scott."
His breath stuttered for a moment and then he questioned, "What?" Eyebrows raised and all.
"I ran tests Scott.. The store test came positive and then I ran tests on my own blood to be sure…" she reinstated, "both positive."
"With who?" he questioned, quite dumbfounded.
"Scott…I haven't done anything…with anyone…with you…for at least six months," she managed, turning to look him in the eyes.
He shook his head. He was just as confused as she was.
"I don't know…but… I'm guessing that the child was conceived…" she shook her head and put a hand to her forehead and sighed, "At least seven months ago? Maybe?"
"And you're sure about that?"
She took his hand and whispered, "Scott. You know I would never…"
He blinked forcibly and then mused, "How…why don't you look it then?"
"My best guess is that the baby went dormant just as my own body did with Phoenix in Alkali…" she paused and uttered, "I don't know how the thing could still be living, though."
"How long do you think it's come along?" He shook himself and repeated, "How old do you think it is? …and do you know if it's an 'it' or something else?"
"Don't be ridiculous…you can't tell this early…" she laughed. The baby had been in her body for seven months. "I mean..the baby seems to have only developed a month an a half…at tops. And it is alive."
His face melted to one of innocent joy. He would believe it for now. "Jean," he breathed, and the two drew close again, "god I love you."