Author's Note: So the fight is over. So Phoenix is over and done with. Or is she? The team suffers greatly from their extreme loss... This chapter was helped greatly by listening to One More Day by Diamond Rio on repeat. (:

Summary: My initial take on what X3: The Last Stand would be like. Centered around Scott, Logan,and Storm's grief for Jean...they quickly learn that Jean has grown far stronger than ever imagined.. Magneto is drawn to Jean's sudden growth in power, and is also alarmed by the human's decision to create the "cure"...

Rating: Between T-M. There is a fair amount of language, semi-frequent mildadult-type-themes, and violence.

Main Characters (most main to lesser): Scott Summers, Jean Grey/Phoenix, Logan (Wolverine), Ororo (Storm), Gambit, Rogue, Beast, Magneto, Xavier, Bobby, Kitty...more in other chapters

Pairings: major Scott/Jean, major Rogue/Remy,minor Logan/Ororo, moderate Logan/Jean, minor Bobby/Kitty

X-men is in no way owned by me...because otherwise I would have changed the way X3: The Last Stand was written. This fan fiction is also completely movie-verse.

Chapter 14 -- One More Day

Fragile emotions encompassed the entirety of the mansion the following day. A gentle, soft new-summer sunlight streamed in through the crystalline windows, illuminating the dark halls.

News had spread fast. The students had all known what happened, or at least the synopsis of it. Phoenix was real. She tore through Jean, but left her alive until she murdered the telepath and the man closest to her. Classes were cancelled due to the extreme grief from the teachers. But still, every so often a student or a group of them would come across Logan, or Ororo, or even Hank. The kids would smile feebly, andthe teachers would give the faintest trace of one in return while nodding their heads in reassurance. The students didn't need to be stressed anymore than they already were.

The three adults mentioned, they were actually in pretty fair shape. Logan had no physical damage due to his regeneration, no doubt. Beast had managed to keep just about every human away from him, so he had very minimal scrapes and bruises beneath his shaggy blue fur. Storm had the most of the three; her arm waswrapped in gauzefrom the deep gashes Logan had given her, and several of her ribs were broken due to Phoenix. Other than that, she was doing very well.

While all the students who hadn't partaken in the war were gawking at the teachers, Rogue and Remy had retreated to her dorm, both shaken at the previous night's events. When they had all returned in the jet, which the memory had phased by both of them, and then returned home, Remy offered to spend the night with Rogue incase she had a post-traumatic reaction. Rogue had slept on her bed, tossing beneath the sheets as her dreams relived the horror; Remy remained on the couch watching her closely, fearing to go to sleep in case she woke crying. Neither mutant was injured much; Remy had suffered a bullet to the shoulder, but Beast took care of it while in the jet.

Now the two were sitting in her room; in silence, in their own thoughts. Remy hadn't gotten close to either Scott or Jean, although he did find both of them to be very modest and strong mutants, thus admiring them a bit. Rogue never really spoke with Scott much outside his classes, but she was somewhat close to Jean, whom she'd gone to more than once on advice with her previous relationship with Bobby. And because of this she hadknown how close Jean and Scott were and how much she truly loved him; although the depths of itshe would never understand.

After staring out the window for several minutes, Rogue turned quickly and bit her lip as she balanced with her palms on the windowsill. "Remy," she breathed, breaking the silence, "I have something to tell you." Anxiety bubbled in her blood as she flicked her hair away from her face nervously.

He looked up, his eyes meeting hers in acknowledgement. He was sitting on the couch again, but now he straightened up slightly as he tuned his ringing ears to listen to her soothing southern-dipped voice.

She sucked in a breath, paused, and then exhaled, "I was hit with a cure." She wound her hands together as she took a step towards him.

"Rogue, why didn' you tell me?" he breathed, fear in his voice. He rose with a start and strode to her quickly. "I…I…" he stammered, "I though' I was protectin' you… An' I missed that…"

Their minds seemed to connect as he opened his arms to her, and she leaned into the curve of histoned figure. She brought her hands to her face, tears threatening to spill into the cuffs of her long-sleeved shirt.

"Cherie… That…that means you can touch…" he said breathlessly as he smiled, stroking her head.

She shook her head and mumbled, "I pulled it out when only half the serum was in…"

"Cherie…" he put his gloved thumb beneath her chin and lifted her head up gently. "Try," he smiled.

Her smile shone through her tears, and with his permission, the two leaned even closer, eyes fluttering closed as their lips touched gingerly.

"It's alright," Remy breathed into her lips.

They kissed slowly while in each other's arms, her savoring the moment, while he took in her beauty. The light grew slightly more orange in color, hinting towards afternoon.

Below the young lover's reunion, nothing but grave feelings and false hope choked the still air. Both Charles and Hank stood pensively observing two mutants in the hospital wing of the mansion.

Side-by-side, Jean and Scott lied on two hospital-like beds. Knowing what the older mutants knew, the very image of the two lovers together in their condition was enough to break the observers' hearts. Both Hank and Charles had to constantly remind themselves that they were patients now, and push away any emotion relating to the two individuals if they wanted to progress with possible healing.

Xavier was continuously diving in and out of both of their minds, trying to find some sort of life, some sort of acknowledgement of the real world outside their unconscious memories. Luck proved false, and meanwhile Beast ran blood tests on the two, sent both through thorough x-rays, and monitored blood pressure and their hearts. The two doctor-figures hardly spoke to one and other; the situation was far too somber for words.

Their heartbeats were magnified as electronic pulses. Jean's heart was steady, but would often thud erratically with no warning. During this time both Hank and Charles would pay closer attention to her, but other than her heart, nothing was out of the ordinary, including her blood flow. Scott, on the other hand, would retain the steady pulse for much longer, but on seldom his heart would drop to the deadly record of ten or eleven beats per minute. How he had managed to continue living after these instances, neither doctor could prove.

"I don't understand," Xavier sighed, his frustration growing rapidly. "Jean should have retained the events of last night through her telepathic memory, so I would think she would just be on the brink of consciousness and her heart would be steadier. Scott, on the other hand, I would think his heart would be the erratic one due to all the stress his body has gone through in hours past…"

"Science still holds mysteries, my friend," Hank replied, looking over a few papers for the fourth time in mere minutes. He paused and then added, "Perhaps Jean pulled another telepathic stunt...you had said before when she had been under the lake she'd been in some sort of 'cocoon.' Maybe it's possible that she threw that barrier up over herself and Scott at the last minute."

Then it happened. Jean's heart rose to the normal, conscious, level. Her eyes slowly swept open. Charles lifted his head, and Hank looked up from his work. Both acknowledged that she had regained, what looked like, consciousness.

"Mmmh…where am I…?" she questioned softly, as she tried her hoarse vocal chords. Jean raised a hand to her head and blinked sluggishly as she attempted to remember where, or even why she was there.

"Jean… You are in the mansion," Charles replied calmly, smiling warmly at her as she propped herself up slowly.

"My head hurts.." she murmured, slightly childishly. She moaned quietly as a minor headache ripped across her mind.

"Do you remember last night?" Hank asked gravely.

"No…" she breathed, rubbing her head as she propped her elbows on her drawn-up knees. "N-No…"

'Amnesia. Or even stress,' Charles called mentally to Hank. He nodded in response, thinking it was a logical solution here.

"What happened, then?" she moaned quietly, looking to Hank from the corner of her eye.

"Phoenix separated herself from your body, and brought a devastating war upon us," Charles explained. "She attacked you, and…" he extended a hand towards the man upon the other table.

Her eye's followed the elder man's hand and her heart stopped. The pulse line she was connected to went flat for a few seconds, and then began beating strenuously. Her hands dug deep into her roots, and her lips had parted slightly.

"She did this…she did this to him?" she breathed, the words a dry whisper.

Charles nodded gravely.

Before she lost control of her emotions, she asked feebly, "Is…is he okay?"

"He's not exactly where we'd like, but mere minutes ago, nor were you," Hank answered.

The memories slowly flowed back into her conscious memory. She bit her lip, and held a hand over her mouth. A pain had embedded itself within her heart as she realized that Scott may very well die. Tears overwhelmed her, and she adverted her gaze from her doctors.

"Jean, you need to tell us what is wrong with you…for both of you are in critical condition, and we can't seem to find a true answer to it…" Charles said soothingly, wheeling his chair to her side as she sobbed quietly.

Two days later, Jean was allowed to walk on her own again. She was unhooked from the monitors and the IV's, but Xavier asked her to continue to spend the majority of her time in the room, "just in case." And she had no problem with this, because the first thing she did after being released was she went to Scott's side. From there, her shuddering fingers rested on his forearm, hoping he would somehow spring to life. The only thing that happened, was that his heart beat jumped for the moment, but settled as Jean glanced at the monitor.

She looked to Xavier, but he was already ahead of her. "He knows you're there," he replied quietly.

Jean looked down at the man again. Miserably, she closed her eyes and fought back the knot in her throat. "But we can't get him back, can we?" she whispered hoarsely, her voice breaking.

Xavier gave the smallest shake of his head.

"Scott.." Jean whispered, her voice barely audible, "you can't do this…you can't do this to us." She too shook her head, finding that she was filled with false hope.

Within the next couple of days, Jean was growing even stronger. Beast and Xavier took shifts now, and were not always in surveillance; this left time for Jean to attempt to revive Scott by her own methods. For example, she would often look within his mind (although she did realize this was against a telepath's morals, Charles had told her that whatever she could do to pull him awake was acceptable), and find that he was several years in the past, or she would try to speak to him, with little luck of results of course.

During one of these periods of time, she broke down crying, hopelessly trying to call him back to life. She fell to her knees beside the bed, and lied her face on his chest, letting her tears fall on his bare skin.

"…Jean…" The voice was so faint; she though she was mental at first.

But when the woman looked up, her reddened eyes saw Scott shifting slightly under her folded arms. She withdrew herself, and smiled like there was no tomorrow as she subconsciously laced her fingers within his.

"Hey," she sighed, her thumb brushing the side of his hand.

"Hey," he choked back with a dry voice.

"How do you feel?" she reluctantly asked.

He paused for a moment, thinking. "…like I was hit by a bus…that was on fire."

A smile broke across her face and she looked down, chuckling lightly. He smiled when he saw her do so.

"I'm serious, Scott…" her voice wavered back to seriousness, "you're scaring everyone here…" her voice dropped, "--including me."

"Well come here," he whispered, titling his head slightly.

Curious, she sat on the very edge of the bed.

"Closer, babe," he rasped.

She raised her eyebrows in question to the nickname, but shook it off as she drew closer.

"Oh come on…" he chuckled.

"What do you want, Mr. Summers?" she smiled, her eyes narrowing slightly as she looked over him.

"Reassurance," he breathed. He then edged forward, meeting her lips.

She returned the kiss, gently of course, and then she inched away and tried to see his eyes from behind the ruby lenses. "Scott…" she whispered, resting her hand against his chest; this sent an enlightening shudder up his spine, "you need your rest."

She still remained on the side of the bed, and he tilted his head farther, as if he was looking at something over the side of the it. She gave a sigh, feeling so much better now that he'd come to consciousness. Her hand rose to his face, where her fingers fiddled with a lock of his hair that lied in front of his face. Her fingers then fell down his cheek, and he rose his hand rather quickly to catch hers. He held her hand upon his face for several moments beforehe blinked rather wearily, finding that he did need sleep. Fatigue and hunger clawed bitterly at his fading strength, something he hated to show.

"Jean…?"

She snapped to reality and replied, "Yes?"

"…do me a favor."

"Okay…" she sighed, hesitant.

"Don't leave me here alone," he whispered bitterly.

His grip eased up on her hand, and she said quietly, "Don't worry… I won't."

He didn't mind showing this weakness to her; well…not so much.

Shortly after Scott had fallen asleep again, Logan came for a visit.

"Hey," he murmured. "The…the, uh, door was open."

Jean looked up, and smiled warmly at the Wolverine. "That's fine," she replied, having nothing much to say to that. She looked back down at the paper work as he strode up behind her, looking over her shoulder at the files.

"So..how is he?" he feared the answer.

"Okay…for the time being," Jean replied, not wanting to be too confident in the man's healing.

"And you?" Logan asked, almost innocently. "I notice that you're working, and you've only been awake...what...a week?"

"The professor says I need rest…but I told him that I wouldn't leave…" Jean sighed, feeling a bit stressed.

"I'm so glad you pulled through," Logan admitted, hugging her figure. She adverted her eyes from his, and nodded in response. "We were all scared, Jean…" Logan then found her gaze, and Jean parted her lips as if she had to do something else. He then searched her eyes and whispered, "Jean…I love you."

"Logan," she began, shaking her head slowly. She pushed his embrace away, and then turned, rubbing her forehead. "Logan, I've been down here for nearly a week after coming-to…and it's only made me realize…" she struggled to put her thoughts into words.

"How much you love him," Logan finished for her.

"Yes," she whispered to the point it sounded almost guilty; she turned back to Logan, with the faintest traces of tears in her eyes.

Logan gave her a faintly hurt look.

"Logan, don't do that…" she continued, "Scott and I…we've been together a long time. And he's…he's…" She looked up to Logan again, and sighed, "In all honesty, I think Scott and I have something that no one else would ever have, let alone understand."

Logan broke their gaze and nodded. He raised his eyebrows briefly as he turned away, and he murmured, "I guess you're right…you have made your choice."

"I love him, Logan…and I don't think anything could change that. I'm sorry…" she said calmly as the man strode out.

"Not even Phoenix," Jean whispered to herself, looking to Scott once more.

----

The next day, both Hank and Professor Xavier returned to the room in a rush. Jean had been looking over the more intricate details of Scott's medical records, smiling to herself at certain things, and raising her eyebrows at others. While busying herself in the finer points of the files, she hadn't particularly taken notice of Scott's heart rate dropping dangerously again. But when the line went flat, she swore that she'd had a miniature heart attack. She nearly knocked over the table when she jumped up with a start, and then the next thing she did was practically the equivalent of screaming telepathically.

And of course, this is what sent Hank and Charles running.

"Jean! --What's wrong?" Hank cried, out of breath when he practically barreled through the door. But as soon as he asked, he himself heard the flat tone and instantly sprang forward.

"His line…his line's flat…" she stammered, eyes brimming with tears and her hands shaking as she frantically searched his subconscious mind for the solution. She paused and then questioned, "Why is it doing this? I can't…I can't see any physical damage…" She turned on her heel to face Xavier.

He inhaled and exhaled slowly and then relayed what he knew: "It seems his chest collapsed on him after the two of you were attacked…but what we cannot figure out…is why it reformed by the time we returned to the mansion."

She returned silence, and the flat tone seemed like it would be a permanent part of her hearing. "What?" she cried, knowing that the very thought of it was impossible.

"There are still things in this world that even I cannot explain, Jean…" Charles continued.

"Hank!" she screamed, interrupting Charles as she was looking wildly over her shoulder, "FIX IT!" Her eyes looked frantically around the room, and a headache seared over her mind.

'…Jean…help me…Jean--!' Various mental cries and pleads of help crossed her mind, all in Scott's voice. She, in turn, let out a cry of pain as she groped at her hair. Her mind waves began to interfere with the electric current in the room. 'Jean! -- I'm dying… -- Help me…' The voice began to overlap itself, and Jean shied further away.

"Jean--" Charles called, a deep concern on his face.

"SCOTT!" she yelled, throwing her arms down, her chest heaving.

Hank and Xavier looked up, perplexed, fearful, and concerned. Then the men's eyes darted to the monitor relaying the man's heart beat. It started again.

Jean's eyes fell closed in slight relief; his voice had quieted, and her headache was easing up. She slumped against the wall as she sighed, fear causing her heart to thud against her chest. She touched her forehead gently, and then squeezed her eyes shut as she said to Scott, 'We're doing the best we can.'

After the horrific incident of near-death for Scott was over and done with, Charles asked, "Jean…I would like it very much if you would please leave the hospitality for a while."

Jean gave him an odd look. "I was the one who --" she objected.

He held up his hand. "I know. But I would prefer it if you were outside these walls…you haven't left this room, nor have you eaten or rested much in the past few days. I think it would be better for you to get some fresh air, and let everyone know you're still alive," he smiled at the last sentence.

"I promised to Scott that I would stay here, Professor. I'm not about to leave," she replied, anger rising in her voice. She felt as if she was being treated like a child again.

"Jean, I'm asking now, but I can make it a requirement that you stay away from this room unless I call for you," he replied, the warmth instantly gone from his voice.

"Yes, sir," she muttered, grabbing her coat off a chair and storming out the door. Once far from the medical room, she hissed to herself, "I can't believe he'd do that."

As Jean traveled through the halls, she avoided anyone she found as she headed anxiously to her suite. She hadn't been in the room in several months, and feared that it would be very different than the way she'd left it the day of the Alkali Lake incident. Her hand fell upon the doorknob that she had turned so many times in her life, and she closed her eyes as she strode into the room for the first time…

Few things had changed. Scott had left the room relatively clean, and it was clear he only slept on his side of the bed (this brought a small smile to her face out of respect). The one thing she did notice, was that he'd taken and gotten a recent picture of her framed, and it was on his bedside table, besides his abused alarm clock. This brought an even greater smile to her face, and the tears subsided. She fell onto the bed much like she would have when she was younger, and one of the first memories of her and Scott together in the room danced across her mind. She smiled as she looked back on it; they still acted much the same together as they did when they were young, except now they kept their relationship much more private than they did in the past.

"Isn't it gorgeous?" he questioned, after she'd pushed him onto the bed, and fallen on her back beside him.

"The room is beautiful, I couldn't ask for more…" she replied, smiling.

"Yeah…the room is great, but I meant you," he smirked softly, running a hand through her hair.

She felt her cheeks redden and she whispered mentally, 'You're making me blush, Scott…'

"That isn't the first time I've heard that," he replied. His hand fell to her neck, and he drew her close as the to kissed softly in the afternoon light.

Tears rolled over her cheeks as she realized the dead-standing fact: Scott wasn't getting better.

He was getting much worse.