Don't Take the Girl
Purely Scott/Jean. This goes over the span of their lives from their teens to their thirties. Song-fic to Tim McGraw's "Don't Take the Girl." Rated T. Slightly AU. One-shot.
Song lyrics are centered and italicized. Telepathic communication is in quotes and italicized.
The characters are not mine, and I don't own X-men, or the song. I drew the name "Rachel" from the comics, but everything is meant to be set in the movie-universe.
Johnny's daddy was taking him fishing
When he was eight years old
A young man, no older than 15 or 16 years sat stiffly in an overstuffed leather chair in the rectangular office. His hands were clenched together so that his knuckles were an unnatural shade of white. It was his form of expressing anger, since his facial expression didn't do much to help that. A person's eyes were most commonly said to be the first thing people noticed, and this was certainly the case with Scott Summers. It was either you saw the blindfold over his eyes that were clamped tightly shut, or you saw a fiery red death staring you straight in the face. Most saw the first.
A young girl strode in, her vibrant red hair falling just below her shoulders and swaying gently as she made her steps. "Yes, Professor?" she stated calmly once entering the office. However, she knew generally what he was going to say when she glanced down, even without reading his mind. A boy with ruffled chestnut hair sat, looking particularly uncomfortable across from the Professor's desk.
A little girl came through the front gate holding a fishing pole
His dad looked down and smiled, said we can't leave her behind
The elder man held a hand towards Scott and stated, "This is Scott Summers, Jean. He will be a new student here."
Jean settled in the chair beside him nonchalantly, but when she turned to properly introduce herself, she drew an unexpected breath and asked the Professor mentally, 'What's wrong with him? I-I mean what's his mutation? …I'm assuming it has to do with his eyes…?"
The Professor nodded and then said aloud, "Scott has optic blasts, a virtually limitless energy that shoots from his eyes when opened. Any exposure of his eyes will set them off."
Jean's mouth fell slightly. "Can he not control it?" she questioned anxiously to the Professor.
He shook his head. Then, switching the subject, "I thought it would be best if you two could get acquainted, considering you two are closest in age, and maybe Jean could give you a tour of the mansion, Scott."
Son I know you don't want her to go but someday you'll change your mind
And Johnny said take Jimmy Johnson, take Tommy Thompson, take my best friend Bo
Take anybody that you want as long as she don't go
The man hardly moved his head in acknowledgement. However, Jean smiled warmly, and even though he couldn't see it, she looked to him tenderly as she rose from her seat. She'd never been in direct contact with someone who was blind, or even close to it, but there was a first time for everything. So Jean stood beside Scott's rigid figure, and placed a hand on his shoulder softly. His skin rippled beneath her touch, and she whispered, "It's alright Scott." He rose reluctantly, however more willing from her seemingly reassuring words. When standing at full, he was only a few inches taller than she herself was. His hands were still clasped together in a death grip, his nails digging so far into his palms that Jean would have thought he should have been bleeding.
Her own hand trailed to the inside of his wrist that hung on his side nearest her, and as her fingers lightly brushed the heel of his palm, his fingers relaxed to the slightest degree. She eased her fingertips through his, and once their palms met, his fingers were the first to curl around hers. It may have been small, but it was a sign of trust.
Take any boy in the world
Daddy please don't take the girl
---
Same old boy
Same sweet girl
Ten years down the road
Over the span of two months, many things had happened. Scott had been given a miraculous gift back to him: sight. Glimmering, ruby-red glasses were now sported on his face at all times to prevent the blast from firing uncontrollably. After what seemed like years of testing, Xavier and another mutant named Dr. Henry McCoy learned the only solid substance to hold back the energy was the ruby-quartz gemstone. So after that breakthrough, Henry went to work, vigorously designing and developing a set of unique glasses for the boy. Within another handful of days, Scott had regained sight, however everything was a rather gaudy shade of red, and would be for the rest of his life.
Jean was still the only one closest to his age, and the two became fast friends after the first few days of stubbornness. Scott was a little self conscious when she'd enlightened him to the fact she was a telepath. Jean had subconsciously made a grab at his arm as she explained embarrassedly, "No…no I swore that I wouldn't go into another person's mind unless given permission to do so." Scott shifted anxiously, and that was when Jean realized she'd taken hold of his arm. This had taken place when he was still "blind."
Now that he had sight, he was astounded at Jean when he had actually taken a first glimpse of her. He'd thought she was pretty good looking just from the sound of her voice and the way she had described herself, but after actually seeing her he nearly did a double take. He'd actually questioned aloud, breathless, "You're Jean?"
She looked almost hurt, but replied, "Yes…?"
He shook himself to reality. For nearly a month and a half she'd been beside him for next to everything, beside him. When the two had finally retreated back to their rooms after the accomplished day, he'd stood outside her room and he gave a weak smile as he admitted, "You're far more beautiful than you made yourself out to be."
Her cheeks instantly flushed at his flattery. She then slipped into the room, and whispered through the shortening crack of the closing door, "Your room's over there… Call me if anything's out of place." Jean gave him a final smile as she stole completely into the shadowed room, and as the lock clicked into place, she leaned against the door and gave an enormous sigh through lips turned upwards she hadn't known she'd bottled up.
Scott crossed the hall, and hesitantly took the doorknob. Despite the fact he'd already experienced the mansion for over a month, everything seemed alarmingly new. When he'd finally crossed the threshold into the room, he muttered dejectedly to himself, "Yeah, something is out of place. And she's in the room across the hall."
---
"Hey…Jean…" Scott called to her as the two crossed paths in the hallways. She was heading towards her room, and he was just wandering a bit. It'd been a nearly a month since he'd gotten the glasses.
She turned around with a curiously bright face upon her calling, and replied, "Yes?" Her eyes were soft and smiling, unlike his that perpetually glowed red and were down-right lethal.
He rubbed the side of his neck just to give his hands something to do, and then he asked nonchalantly (however inside he was shaking), "You wanna go somewhere tonight? Like dinner or a movie or something?" He feared he was rambling, despite the few words he'd uttered.
Her face lit up even further if possible, and a soft smile enfolded on her face. "Sure, Scott…" she glanced to her watch and then inquired, "Can you give me twenty minutes?"
Her statement nearly fazed him, but he stammered, "Ye-yeah…sure!" He couldn't believe she'd said yes, but it was simply a natural reaction for a first date. "Yeah…" he repeated as she turned the corner, giving him an adoring glance over her shoulder. He gave a grin in response, and then fell against the wood walls with a sigh he'd kept within his chest for the past few moments.
---
He held her tight and kissed her lips
In front of the picture show
They'd gone to see a movie; however how much "seeing" of the particular movie was done was disputable. Scott had then driven her to a casual sit-down restaurant, where the two ended up actually sitting in silence, just enjoying each other's company. They sat at a table for two, one across from the other. Jean's legs were folded beneath the table, but she couldn't help herself from brushing against his beneath the table. Suddenly her gaze lifted sharply; someone had tugged harshly at her hair, forcibly pulling her to her feet. She cried out as the figure clawed at her arms, pulling them behind her back so that she couldn't escape. Her hair fell around her neck in the same perfect waves, but now her face was streaked with tears of fear.
Stranger came and pulled a gun
Grabbed her by the arm said if you do what I tell you to, there won't be any harm
A click echoed behind her head, and then she sensed the presence of a gun barrel staring at the back of her head. She looked to Scott desperately, who had also leapt up and was fingering the rims of the glasses. She begged to him mentally, "No…Scott! If you reveal us here… The car's a half mile away…we won't be able to escape fast enough…"
He mouthed, "What am I supposed to do?" Their hearts raced frantically.
"Negotiate," she whimpered. He struggled and she added, "Scott, I don't want to die tonight…" And a new wave of tears silently spilled from the edges of her eyes.
And Johnny said take my money, take my wallet, take my credit cards
Here's the watch that my grandpa gave me
Here's the key to my car
Mister give it a whirl
Scott shook his head and then pulled his wallet from his back pocket. His fingers ripped it open and spilled out what little cash he had on him, and he stammered, "Take my money…" When the man wouldn't budge, he shook his head and breathed, "Take my car – it's half a mile up the road." The keys clattered onto the table noisily. Few people were in the eatery, but it was still dead silent save for his pleas.
But please don't take the girl
The murderous man stole a quick glance at the keys, and with the gun still at Jean's head, he released her hands and swiped the dollar bills and the keys. The man then stole away from the restaurant, running in the direction Scott had mentioned. Once he left, Jean threw herself into Scott's arms, crying thankfully into his shoulder. He was shaking noticeably, but his hands smoothed her hair as he tried to console her. For two 16-year-olds, the experience had been quite frightening, especially while on a first date.
"Thank you…" she breathed, her voice cracked. "But what about the car...and-and the money?"
"You're irreplaceable, Jean," he replied finally. The two clung to each other, while in the background one of the cashiers dialed 911. She gave a shuddering sigh, but even as she desperately bit back the knot in her throat, the tears still came.
"I love you," she uttered for the first time.
---
Same old boy
Same sweet girl
Five years down the road
They were now in their 30's, and had held tight to each other ever since the night at the restaurant. They shared a room in the mansion, and were now fully-fledged members of the team referred to as the X-men. Scott had been elected as team leader, however Jean was most likely considered the strongest of the group due to her telepathic/kinesis abilities. Both were also teachers to the youngest students at the Institute.
The two were considered engaged, but had never really gone to make it official. They were also thought to be the most likely to get married. However, that was of little concern to the couple as well; they went by the motto of "Whatever happens, happens."
At this particular day and time, the two of them had returned to their suite quite late, both exhausted from teaching, and Jean sat before Scott on the bed, his sleeves drawn back casually, and her hair draped over one side of her neck as he kneaded her shoulders covered only by the thin straps of a tank-top. Her eyes fell lightly closed as she leaned into his touch. Her head turned slightly to get a glimpse of him over her shoulder in the dim light; he was smiling to him self in that way he always did when they were together. He caught her gaze, and despite the fact it was next to impossible to see his eyes behind the lenses, she knew. She turned slightly, and his hands trailed to her forearms as she pulled away from the relaxing massage.
She blinked for a moment, and the two just sat there in the silence, the only light in the room was either moonlight filtering through the curtain, splashing a milky blue on the flooring, or that of the lamp on the bedside table. They both looked each other over, and then Scott lifted a hand to her cheek.
"You're beautiful," he whispered.
"You're being very forward, Mr. Summers," she mused, her eyes softening at his touch.
And within the next minute the two had drawn rather close, and he hesitated at the last inch. "It's alright," she whispered to his mind. In the next moment their lips met. They kissed, however it was not feverishly as some may have thought; rather his kiss was more of a relaxation for her lips. They both fell to the sheets in the following moments. He had a hand behind her head, the fingers tangling in her red waves, and the other had slipped beneath her shirt, the fingertips caressing her rippling skin, all of this while he'd edged a knee between her legs.
---
There's going to be a little one and she says its time to go
"Scott –" Jean murmured, grabbing at his arm. He looked over at her; her breath had shallowed quite a bit and then her hand slipped away from him and drifted to her protrusive stomach.
At first he'd given her a questioning look, but breathed, "Oh," when he caught the faintest idea of what the matter was. He jumped to his feet and blindly searched for his shoes as he jammed a practiced number into his phone.
After just one ring, a voice replied, "Evening."
"Hank…" Scott grunted as he argued with his left shoe, "We're coming down."
"Ah. We're ready and waiting, Mr. Summers," the beast-ish man replied happily.
Scott smiled to himself. Things were about to change.
---
Scott had been asked by one of Hank's few assistance if he could wait outside the birth room, and reluctantly he had agreed. At first he'd paced outside the closed, windowless doors, and after ten minutes or so he settled submissively to the bench. Another five minutes, and Hank came from the room. Scott jumped to his feet upon seeing the blue man.
Doctor says the baby's fine but you'll have to leave
Hank gave a weak smile as he wrung his hands together. "Beautiful baby girl," the doctor sighed. Scott's grin swamped his face. However, Hanks contentedness was dashed off his face as his voice lowered slightly, "Don't start celebrating yet, Mr. Summers…" He forced a sigh and muttered, "Jean's not going to make it."
Cause his mommas fading fast and Johnny hit his knees and there he prayed
Scott's brow drew together and his mouth fell open slightly. "No…not Jean…" he managed. Hank pushed the door open, revealing a fading Jean on the inside. He rushed to her side and fell to his knees beside the lowered bed. Jean's eyes fluttered slightly and she looked incredibly pale. Scott's fingers grazed her high cheek bones, and her head tilted into his direction.
"Scott…"
"Jean…I'm here," he whispered, his voice threatening to break.
"Was it a boy or a girl?" Her voice was so weak in his mind, despite their closeness.
He struggled for a minute and then gasped, "Girl."
"Just like you wanted, huh?" She visibly smiled slightly. Her strength was obviously failing her if she could hardly move and had to revert to the telepathic speech. After a moment of silence, her eyelids swept open, revealing bright brown eyes beneath. She looked to him lovingly, and then murmured, "Take care of Rachel, Scott."
"…Jean—" He shook his head. "I can't do this without you," he choked.
"Yes you can," she objected, "I know you can."
He bit his lip as their hands wound together. "I don't want to, then."
Take the very breath you gave me
Take the heart from my chest
I'll gladly take her place if you'll let me
Make this my last request
Take me out of this world
"She's your daughter too, Scott. Take care of her. And don't let Rachel forget her mommy…and don't you forget me either," she mused.
"Jean…I love you too much to let you just leave like this…"
"I won't really be gone Scott…you know that," she paused. "I love you; always have, always will."
God, please don't take the girl
And then her hand fell limp within his, while the line on the monitor finally falling flat and ringing eerily in the still air. Scott looked to the display, and shook his head, finding it terribly hard to believe. Hank then patted him on the shoulder. The man behind the red glasses jumped out of his skin and then turned; his mouth fell again as he was handed his newborn daughter who was staring up at him in awe as she was swaddled in the towels.
"Rachel," he whispered; no other words would come due to the knot in his throat. A daughter's life for a lover's death. He held onto the child tightly, and then stole a final glance at Jean. Scott finally managed, "If you're anything like your mom, you'll be the best little girl ever asked for."
Johnny's daddy
Was taking him fishing
When he was eight years old
