Author's Note: Thank you, Victoria Lily, you put a smile on my face, and if you know where the sources of my pen name come from you'd know how rare that is. Thank you Spitze, Wen1, CykePhoenixSummers and violetbear2001 for your reviews. When I refer to Stargate, it is not the television show. It is an actual theory put forward by some more eccentric Egyptologists involving the face on Mars and the Giza pyramids. Oh, and please excuse the anachronisms.

Disclaimer: All recognisable characters are the property of Marvel Comics and Fox Entertainment. No plagiarism is intended.

Chapter Three:

Everything was awash in shades of red and black, mingling to form an obscure reddish-grey. His eyes focused immediately on the person in front of him, thinking whimsically that she was nothing like he imagined. Her hair was long, the colour unidentifiable due to the limits of the glasses. He found her beautiful, and wondered how someone like her had even spoken to him. He hoped things wouldn't change now that he didn't need her help to see. He enjoyed her company.

He blushed when he realised he had only been staring at her, and that she could probably read his mind. Her lips quirked in a secret smile, which only deepened his colour. He resolutely turned to look around.

The Professor was in a motorised wheel chair. Hank was covered in what appeared to be dark fur, wearing a suit. Warren - wow - Warren had wings like an angel, living up to his nick name. In his vision they looked blood red, an angel of death.

He couldn't look at anything for more than a moment, there being too much to see.

Scott then took in the room around him, before smiling shamefacedly.

"Sorry, I haven't said thank you yet," his tone was one of awe as he continued to look around him. He could feel the beams massing behind his eyes, a dull throbbing pressure that he tried to ignore. He wasn't going to mention that, too grateful just to see, though he feared he would soon miss the variation in colour. Anything darker than a certain shade became invisible to his eye, entwined with the shadows that possessed most of his vision.

A flick of Warrens wings and Scott's eyes were immediately drawn to it. Any slight movement and his eyes flickered to the source, over sensitive. He was overwhelmed, and sunk to his knees, clasping his hands in his lap as he closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. His mind needed a break from cataloguing all he had missed.

The smile on the men's faces softened, and they quietly left the room, giving Scott time to adjust. Jean faltered, torn between giving him space and comforting him. Despite her mind yelling at her to go, she stayed. Watching him fold like that, the awe on his face as he first opened his eyes, the fear before he did…. Something about him hit somewhere unidentifiable inside her, but she didn't pity him. She didn't know why, but she didn't pity him, only sympathised.

Scott was dimly aware of her presence. He tried to regain control, hating to show weakness, but found he couldn't. Her hand came to rest on his shoulder reassuringly. She remained quiet as he fought his emotions, and he was grateful. One final deep breath and he looked at her, the first genuine smile she had seen gracing his face, and she returned it.

He got up from his crouched position and reached down a hand to her where she knelt on the floor. She knew he needed the gesture to prove he had regained control, and she didn't deny him it.

"The Professor has a celebratory dinner prepared in the dining room. He says it will be ready any minute now," Jean's eyes had half closed as she listened to the Professor in her thoughts. Scott realised again he was staring at her and ripped his gaze away, imagining he could hear the tear, like Velcro. They ascended to the next level before he replied.

"I-I'm going to go outside for a minute, if that's okay. I w-want," he cleared his throat, "I want to see something."

"Alright," she reached over and squeezed his hand, shocking herself with the gesture. "See you in a few." She briskly walked down the hall, hoping Scott hadn't seen the reddening of her cheeks. Scott meanwhile stared at his hand where it still tingled. That was the first moment of affection he had felt in a long time, and he burned it in his memory.

Scott continued down the hall, turning this way and that, before reaching the main doors, pushing them open, where he was overwhelmed once again.


It was a good fifteen minutes before Scott found his way to the dining room, but no one could begrudge him that. The Professor waved away his apologies as the first course was served.

The large grandfather clock in the hallway had just struck eight O'clock when Jean announced she had rented movies. Two nights ago Scott and herself had discussed movies, and he wasn't too surprised to discover she had brought some of his favourites, as well as a few she thought he would like (being out of the movie loop for sometime now). The Professor excused himself, despite their pleas for him to stay. He merely smiled and said he had business to attend to.

As Scott, Warren and Jean sat on the couch, Scott got his first glimpse of Jean's powers. He watched the DVD rise from its case, then float over to the opened mouth of the DVD player. Hank lounged in the arm chair, feet dangling over the rest as he munched on a box of Pringles. It was the most congenial evening of Scott's life.

Half-way through the first movie (let's say Serenity) Hank got up and left, having to return to a research project due the following morning. He gave the empty Pringle box to Warren before he sauntered out, ignoring the glare thrown his way.

Scott began explaining all the intricacies of the plot and its references to Japanese mythology to Jean when the second movie was put in (X, an anime movie). Warren lost the plot quickly and left to go bother Hank - apparently a favourite past time of his.

A bowl of popcorn, two packets of Peanut M'n'Ms, and a carton of orange juice later the credits began to roll, the time on the DVD player reading 01:17.

"Tired?" Jean glanced over to where Scott was sprawled on the opposite end of the couch.

"Negative. Thou?" He stretched his arms over his head, cracked his shoulders and neck.

"No. Want to see what's on TV?" He raised his eyebrows, go-on-then. Jean picked up the remote and flicked through channels before coming to rest on an X-Files marathon.

"Whoa, hold up," Scott raised his hand, but she had already gleaned it off his mind. He quirked an eyebrow at her.

"I only grazed the surface. It's not counted as reading."

"Uh-huh. If you want something else on…"

"No, this is fine. I haven't seen too many episodes."

"I've seen all but the final series. I went blind before it aired." his smile had reverted back to that strange half-smirk he had before, as he settled back to watch the show. After a few minutes of silence, Scott began to squirm. "Damn, it's that season two episode, Duane Barry."

"You don't like it?" Jean was enjoying it, herself.

"I-I like it, but I'm not going to sleep tonight." A pause. "I mean this morning." Jean smiled over at him. "When I was a kid I was terrified of alien abduction. Hey, don't laugh. My cousins made me watch this film where they actually showed aliens vivisect their abductees. Scared the hell out of me."

"Scott, no offence, but what makes you think you're interesting enough to abduct?" A can of soda came floating into the room. "Did you want one?"

"No, thanks. I'm aware of that logic, but it doesn't stop the fear." Jean laughed.

"You're aware of the logic? Have you ever read Isaac Asimov?"

"Yeah, I know he has this thing about aliens not being able to reach this solar system, but he's basing that on human logic. It may not apply to another sentient species. I prefer to go with the way Orson Scott Card put things." Jean just continued to laugh into her soda.

Hank poked his head into the sitting room a little after half seven and found Jean asleep, Scott still watching the television. He chuckled to himself, startling Scott when he cleared his throat.

"I know everything must be knew and wonderful with your long-lost sight, but you must sleep sometime. Science dictates it."

"Huh? Oh, sorry. There's a marathon on TV, this is the last episode. I'm afraid she couldn't stomach it." Jean was just beginning to rouse, and she nudged Scott with her foot in a futile attempt at a kick. "I think I bored her to sleep with all my conspiracies. I was just getting to the Stargate conspiracy when she wiped out. Ow!" This time she succeeded in kicking him in the ribs, noting his flinch. She skimmed his mind, and was relieved to find he didn't flinch because of her, only to frown when she discovered it was reflex. Something ingrained.

Scott, however, wasn't paying any attention to the look she gave him, not registering the strange sensation that briefly passed over his mind. He had returned to the X-Files, Hank deciding to join in.

Jean thought back to the medical the Professor and Hank had given Scott. Aspiring to be a doctor, Jean had observed them quietly, helping only to pass an instrument here and there. Scott's X-ray had shown numerous healed fractures and breaks, some of the bones not correctly knit together. Particularly his right shoulder. Though not clearly visible - according to Scott, which Jean inferred meant it had occurred before the manifestation of his powers - if his shoulder was rotated or hit in a certain way, it caused blinding pain as the bone jarred muscle. He failed to mention how he received the injury, Hank and Jean's questions silenced telepathically by the Professor. Scott pretended to be oblivious, though Jean noticed the slight tensing of his back. When he was asked to remove his shirt, Jean was dismissed from the medical bay.

Everyone, report to the Danger room immediately.

Scott's head shot up from where he had rested it on his arm, not immediately realising the voice had come from inside his head. When he did, the first thing he felt was violated. He tried to shake himself of those kind of thoughts, knowing this was as natural to the Professor as breathing. The others rose and headed for the door. Taking their lead, Scott followed them back to the Danger room.

This time when he entered the room, everything was different. Instead of the almost entirely blank walls and computer monitors, there were random obstacles littered around the room.

Don't worry, Scott. This is all -

Scott tensed all over, his dislike of being spoken to mind-to-mind reaching a peak. He found if he concentrated he could block the voice from his mind. He wasn't surprised.

Scott's mother had been telepathic. Though no where nearly as powerful as Charles Xavier, she had ensured her children could develop mental walls. Something Scott had found immensely useful, due to her psychological condition. It made him feel a strange sense of regret whenever he witnessed the Professor or Jean using their powers. He was aware that theirs probably came with a price, as well, but they had made it through.

"This is all just a simulation." Xavier stared intently at Scott, trying to probe his mind. Apart from the most immediate layer, he found he could go no further. "How are you blocking my mind, Scott?" The others turned to look at Scott, having not been aware that anything had happened. Scott remained uncommunicative.

"Scott, I won't read your mind. I find communicating telepathically easier, and also more effective in an emergency. I give you my word I will not pry into your mind."

"You already tried," though his voice was quiet, there was underlying emotions of fear and anger. Only the telepaths in the room felt it, but they didn't understand it. An indefinable emotion flickered across Xavier's face.

"Alright. You are dismissed from this lesson, as I'm afraid much of it will be mind-to-mind. Mathematics will begin at nine thirty."

Not quite sure what had happened, Scott turned and left the room.

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay. The website wouldn't upload my document. Thank you for reading.