Note: You are not obligated to read this chapter or the next. Each of the chapters is a stand-alone fic strung together by a common dream. They're for my fanfic100 community prompts Beginnings, Middles, Ends. This one takes place a couple years after the end of the series.
Disclaimer: Own nothing, don't sue.
The X-Men filed out of the Blackbird, tired but victorious. Riots from the Friends of Humanity had kept them on their toes the better part of two weeks; the revival of the Sentinel Project hadn't helped either, bringing added danger to the streets. The stress continued to build as Ororo and Hank pulled double duty, making trips almost constantly to fight one mutant registration act or another. The Professor's oldest students, Scott Summers and Jean Grey were the last down the rap, fingers intertwined with one another. "So, we're in agreement that the bridesmaids' dresses are going to be lavender," the redhead questioned.
Her fiancé sighed, "After today, Jean, I couldn't care if they were striped pink and orange, I'm beat." He turned her to face him, giving her a light kiss on the lip. "Whatever makes you happy is fine with me."
"I just want to make sure you like it," she smiled.
"As long as you say 'I do' the rest is unimportant," he responded.
"Oh, you," Jean playfully smacked his shoulder with the back of her hand. They continued onward, catching the elevator up to the main floor, quietly enjoying each other's presence until Scott broke the silence. "How much control do you actually have, Jean? Everything worked out in the field today but you seemed," he paused, "reckless."
"I thought we had a rule about asking questions like that."
"I'm not asking you as your boyfriend, I'm asking you as team leader."
The elevator opened onto the main floor and they exited, heading for the stairs. Jean kept pace, considering how to answer. Her powers had been expanding in leaps and bounds, so much so that at times she wasn't sure where the control was coming from. The dream that she had had years ago reoccurred all the time...and it was getting worse. "I've got it under control, Scott," she responded.
"Do you? You realize that if it weren't for Kurt's ability to teleport we'd be a team member short. You know we all have to watch out for each other."
Jean bit her lip. She knew when she had telekinetically thrown the Sentinel into the building wall that Kurt had been on the robot's back, trying to pull the wiring. "I know," she replied. "I don't know what I was thinking." She hadn't been thinking, her actions had been purely instinctual, and it scared her, just as her fiery nightmares scared her to the core.
"If it happens again I'm going to suspend you from the team, we can't afford to lose anyone." It hurt to say it but Scott had to put the good of the team ahead of personal feelings.
Jean nodded. "Now, if you're done being our fearless leader can we talk about something else?"
"If you like," he told her.
"Alright, because I was wondering if you thought the Professor would begrudge us a short honeymoon if things keep up the way they do."
Scott smiled, Jean's mind seemed to be stuck on one channel recently. "I don't think he'd mind..."Scott stopped short, receiving a telepathic message. "Speaking of the Professor, he wants me to see him in his office. If I don't get back before you fall asleep, sweet dreams."
"You too," Jean said. A short kiss and Scott turned around, towards the Professor's office rather than the dormitories.
By the time Scott left the office he knew the others had probably long since gone to catch a little shut-eye. That was one thing they had all come to learn; it didn't have to be nighttime for it to be time to sleep. Most of them had mastered the art of sleeping as they sat in passenger seats in the Blackbird. Scott's pajamas had taken up permanent residence in the bathroom, just as their uniforms now called coat hooks in the hallway 'home'. Scott smirked when he remembered they used to run down to the sub-basement for their uniforms, that wasn't the case anymore. His uniform was the last to get put in place, making a complete set.
He walked into his bedroom and startled when he saw Jean sitting at the foot of his bed, eyes trained on the floor. They often snuck into each other's rooms (not because the Professor had rules against it but because they worried about setting an example for the younger Mansion residents). "Jean, why aren't you asleep in your room?"
"I tried, Scott," she raised her head up, tear stains on her cheeks.
"Nightmares," he asked. She nodded. She didn't have to say the dream was the same as always...darkness and fire, Scott already knew, she'd shared the dream with him many times before. "I know I've said it before, but I really think you should get help from the Professor," Scott whispered.
"You know I won't...just let me sleep in here with you...they're never as bad when you're here."
Scott sighed. Stubborn to a fault, he thought.
"I heard that," she responded, she heard so much now, like every mind had decided to make itself entirely accessible to her.
"You're going to hear me snoring in a minute," he teased, climbing into bed. Jean pulled her legs up onto the bed and crawled over next to him, closing her eyes as he put a comforting arm around her.
Jean stood in a blank landscape, same as always, she thought to herself. The dream always started the same way, a barren landscape, which was really just a place for her to be before the darkness came for her. The Professor had told her once that dreams were just the subconscious and that with practice a person could learn to control their dreams. Jean had tried that bit of advice out and it never made any difference. It was strange how the dream never altered, almost like a vision. Jean tried to feel for her psychic link to Scott, trying to pull herself out before the darkness hit, she'd been through this once already today and wasn't looking forward to a repeat performance...nor did she want to wreak havoc upon Scott's belongings as her telekinesis got away from her as it often did.
She could hear it, a dull laugh and sensed something approaching. She tried frantically to find that link, but couldn't. And then she saw it, the dark shape that spread and grasped. Fear no longer rooted her to the spot as it once did; she ran. She ran through the barren land that was the only physical thing in the dream. But the darkness caught up with her, just as it always did. It reached for her, surged underneath her feet before taking hold of her, keeping her from escape. 'Leave me alone!'
'Why,' a dark voice asked, 'why should we leave you alone?'
Jean didn't have an answer, she never did. She could feel the heat rising up through her core, readying itself to consume her just before the darkness did the same. 'You belong to the Phoenix' a feminine voice told her... 'No one can touch you.' The Phoenix? Jean thought, just as the darkness began to swallow her and the flame chased it away. As part of the flame she rose into the air, free. Jean tried to argue that she couldn't fly away, that there was things she still had to do. 'Then do them,' the woman's voice told her, 'you'll return to the flame soon enough'.
Jean's eyes snapped open; she could still feel the flame under her skin, could almost see it playing underneath the surface. She turned her head to see Scott still peacefully asleep. He worked so hard...and worried so much. Jean slowly got out of the bed, making sure to pull the covers back over the bed. She walked over to the window where the sun peaked through a crack in the blinds. The Phoenix...what did it mean? The woman's voice was a new development but Jean hoped that it meant the dreams would stop, if she somehow belonged to this Phoenix she hoped the darkness knew it. She needed a good night's rest, it wore on Jean more than she let on but she didn't want anyone to worry. Jean turned to look at the damage she undoubtedly did but found none. All of Scott's papers and belongings looked undisturbed and the burning feeling was beginning to subside. Jean let out a sigh of relief...maybe it would be okay after all.