A/N: This chapter is a lil confusing but I hope you all like it.
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CHAPTER 41- In the Shadow
Jean fidgeted on the bed, the beginnings of restlessness edging inside her. She needed to know, wanted to know what was going on inside him. Why was she so strictly forbidden from entering his mind? What was so dangerous in something so compelling? How could he be so perilous to her when he himself didn't hold the slightest hint of iniquity in him?
Tristan was still unconscious. A little peek wouldn't hurt. She sighed, no she couldn't do it. She was told not to. But then again the professor had been doing nothing but restricting her from every little activity there was, afraid for her welfare. Yet he didn't know she was stronger then before, much stronger then he, or anyone else, anticipated. It shouldn't be that difficult. His mind couldn't be that much of a puzzle as Logan's because unlike Logan, Tristan knew his past, knew things he didn't want to.
Any maybe, just maybe, she could bring him out of his coma like state by doing so. Jean had a strong feeling she could find him in there, lost in his memories. If so, she could get him to come back with her and wake him up sooner. The state he was in right now, she couldn't speculate when he'd awaken. His body had taken a tremendous tribulation and though his breathing had regulated and the wound had stopped bleeding didn't mean the impact that drove him to unconsciousness to begin with was gone.
Jean settled herself so she was facing him, having made up her mind. Her mind focused on just his face and the prescience started to seep into her mind. She could see the dark cloud again, calling her, beckoning her, but another part was warning her off, the voice so low that it sounded like only a whisper in the wind. Jean pushed through the thick shadows of Tristan's mind and entered.
It was suffocating; the darkness was choking her so much she could hardly breathe. She was sure she could reach out and touch it but her eyes were burning so bad she was forced to close them. Her feet landed on solid ground, grass by the feel of it.
She opened her eyes; she was in a field at night. The stars blazed brightly overhead and the grass smelt of mildew and fresh flowers. Two people lay on a blanket fifteen yards in front of her. One was a woman with fiery hair, longer than hers and curly, the other a man with dark hair. They were just holding each other, gazing at the stars and talking but Jean couldn't make out the words. She walked closer, hoping to hear and her eyes widened.
It was Tristan on the ground with the girl. And the girl was like a ghost from the past, it more ways then one. It was Bonnie. This was Tristan's memory, she had made it through the barrier of fog into his memories and one that Tristan favored more then life itself.
A wave of dizziness hit her and she blinked. But when she opened her eyes she was in yet another scene.
"What is going on?" she wondered aloud, looking around the furnished building of what looked like a law firm of some kind. People rushed past her as if she didn't even exist, and since it was a memory she must not have. Through all the people her mind pulled out Tristan, watching him walk through the revolving glass doors and into the building with confidence. She guessed this is where he had worked before…before everything went wrong. She followed him as he climbed up the stairs where a blonde woman waited for him, her face hidden by her nearly white hair but Jean knew she was youthful in age.
The room spun in color like giant paint blobs and resettled into place. "Okay…this is getting weird."
The blonde stood by the window, slim body posed lethally as she stared out the window. Jean felt a cold shiver creep down her spine causing her to gasp at the pain of it. Something was wrong about this woman, she could feel it in her bones. She was a force not to be reckoned with but was already looking for something, body and mind set on her goal. Jean took an attentive step toward her, trying to get a look at her face, but as her foot hit the ground, the woman whirled around and the scene changed.
A white wall stood in front of her, her nose barely an inch from it. She took a step back, eyes measuring it to the ceiling and she turned around. She saw Tristan sitting at the table, head downcast, not even bothering to look at the reflecting window where Scott and Ororo stood on the other side. To her surprise the door opened and she walked in. Jean felt weird, seeing herself walk into a room while she stood in it wasn't something she was used to seeing on a regular basis. Jean, the other Jean, sat down in the chair across from Tristan and began talking to him.
"Why does he keep this memory fond?" she whispered aloud again, though no one could hear it.
"Because it was the first day I met you."
Jean gasped and turned her head to the left. Tristan stood in the corner closest to her. His hands were shoved into his pockets and his dark hair was scuffled, blue eyes on her. Even at his ruggedness look he managed to look handsome.
"Tristan?"
"The one and only," he glanced at the other. "Well, at least the real one…not a memory version of me."
"What's going on? Why am I seeing all your memories?"
"You're the one that entered the shadow," he told her.
"Only to find you."
"And you did…more then you could want. They warned you to stay out, but you came anyway," he stepped towards her slowly. "You past through the shadow when hardly anyone dares to, not even Xavier himself could pull it off, but you did."
"Why?"
Tristan seemed to be thinking about it, and his eyes flickered to a lost look. In it she saw hurt and confusion, but it disappeared. "I'm not sure."
"Tristan…are you okay?" she could sense something was off about him.
He gave her a weak smile. "I'll be fine."
"What's wrong?"
"My, you're stubborn," he smiled.
"You know it. Now tell me."
"Jean," the hurt look came back to his eyes and they watered slightly. "I can't."
"You've told me so much already…about Bonnie, about your life, Emma…everything…don't back out on me now," she touched his face, holding it in her hand. "I'm here for you Tristan."
His eyes lifted to her, the blue spheres carrying so much pain and scars from over the years, so much confusion and depression that it tore at her. She wanted nothing more then to make it go away.
"Then help me," he whispered.
She nodded her head, seizing her chance without a second thought. "Yes…I'll help you Tristan. Just tell me what to do."
"I can't…you have to figure it out on your own…help me get out of here…make it go away. It's been in me too long…make it go away…help me Jean."
He was fading away, the scenery was slipping and she tried to hold onto him but found it impossible. "Tristan!"
The entire room was going transparent. Tristan along with it. Suddenly the floor gave way and Jean stepped back. Her heart hammering as she barely missed falling into the whirlwind darkness, the arctic air rushing up to her face, making her cheeks numb with cold.
"Help me," it was hardly a whisper at all above the roaring winds that swirled madly at the edge of the cliff, but still his voice.
"I will," she said loudly hoping he could hear. "I'll find you Tristan." And she realized then that only she could help him. Her and her alone. She was the only one he trusted that was left in the world, the only one he loved and the only one that loved him in return. They were connected by a greater bond and now Jean had to use it in order to save him.
With a deep breath, Jean closed her eyes and spread her arms, taking that step into nothingness and plummeting through the wind below.
R&R Please it makes all the difference.
~~~~~~~~~~
CHAPTER 41- In the Shadow
Jean fidgeted on the bed, the beginnings of restlessness edging inside her. She needed to know, wanted to know what was going on inside him. Why was she so strictly forbidden from entering his mind? What was so dangerous in something so compelling? How could he be so perilous to her when he himself didn't hold the slightest hint of iniquity in him?
Tristan was still unconscious. A little peek wouldn't hurt. She sighed, no she couldn't do it. She was told not to. But then again the professor had been doing nothing but restricting her from every little activity there was, afraid for her welfare. Yet he didn't know she was stronger then before, much stronger then he, or anyone else, anticipated. It shouldn't be that difficult. His mind couldn't be that much of a puzzle as Logan's because unlike Logan, Tristan knew his past, knew things he didn't want to.
Any maybe, just maybe, she could bring him out of his coma like state by doing so. Jean had a strong feeling she could find him in there, lost in his memories. If so, she could get him to come back with her and wake him up sooner. The state he was in right now, she couldn't speculate when he'd awaken. His body had taken a tremendous tribulation and though his breathing had regulated and the wound had stopped bleeding didn't mean the impact that drove him to unconsciousness to begin with was gone.
Jean settled herself so she was facing him, having made up her mind. Her mind focused on just his face and the prescience started to seep into her mind. She could see the dark cloud again, calling her, beckoning her, but another part was warning her off, the voice so low that it sounded like only a whisper in the wind. Jean pushed through the thick shadows of Tristan's mind and entered.
It was suffocating; the darkness was choking her so much she could hardly breathe. She was sure she could reach out and touch it but her eyes were burning so bad she was forced to close them. Her feet landed on solid ground, grass by the feel of it.
She opened her eyes; she was in a field at night. The stars blazed brightly overhead and the grass smelt of mildew and fresh flowers. Two people lay on a blanket fifteen yards in front of her. One was a woman with fiery hair, longer than hers and curly, the other a man with dark hair. They were just holding each other, gazing at the stars and talking but Jean couldn't make out the words. She walked closer, hoping to hear and her eyes widened.
It was Tristan on the ground with the girl. And the girl was like a ghost from the past, it more ways then one. It was Bonnie. This was Tristan's memory, she had made it through the barrier of fog into his memories and one that Tristan favored more then life itself.
A wave of dizziness hit her and she blinked. But when she opened her eyes she was in yet another scene.
"What is going on?" she wondered aloud, looking around the furnished building of what looked like a law firm of some kind. People rushed past her as if she didn't even exist, and since it was a memory she must not have. Through all the people her mind pulled out Tristan, watching him walk through the revolving glass doors and into the building with confidence. She guessed this is where he had worked before…before everything went wrong. She followed him as he climbed up the stairs where a blonde woman waited for him, her face hidden by her nearly white hair but Jean knew she was youthful in age.
The room spun in color like giant paint blobs and resettled into place. "Okay…this is getting weird."
The blonde stood by the window, slim body posed lethally as she stared out the window. Jean felt a cold shiver creep down her spine causing her to gasp at the pain of it. Something was wrong about this woman, she could feel it in her bones. She was a force not to be reckoned with but was already looking for something, body and mind set on her goal. Jean took an attentive step toward her, trying to get a look at her face, but as her foot hit the ground, the woman whirled around and the scene changed.
A white wall stood in front of her, her nose barely an inch from it. She took a step back, eyes measuring it to the ceiling and she turned around. She saw Tristan sitting at the table, head downcast, not even bothering to look at the reflecting window where Scott and Ororo stood on the other side. To her surprise the door opened and she walked in. Jean felt weird, seeing herself walk into a room while she stood in it wasn't something she was used to seeing on a regular basis. Jean, the other Jean, sat down in the chair across from Tristan and began talking to him.
"Why does he keep this memory fond?" she whispered aloud again, though no one could hear it.
"Because it was the first day I met you."
Jean gasped and turned her head to the left. Tristan stood in the corner closest to her. His hands were shoved into his pockets and his dark hair was scuffled, blue eyes on her. Even at his ruggedness look he managed to look handsome.
"Tristan?"
"The one and only," he glanced at the other. "Well, at least the real one…not a memory version of me."
"What's going on? Why am I seeing all your memories?"
"You're the one that entered the shadow," he told her.
"Only to find you."
"And you did…more then you could want. They warned you to stay out, but you came anyway," he stepped towards her slowly. "You past through the shadow when hardly anyone dares to, not even Xavier himself could pull it off, but you did."
"Why?"
Tristan seemed to be thinking about it, and his eyes flickered to a lost look. In it she saw hurt and confusion, but it disappeared. "I'm not sure."
"Tristan…are you okay?" she could sense something was off about him.
He gave her a weak smile. "I'll be fine."
"What's wrong?"
"My, you're stubborn," he smiled.
"You know it. Now tell me."
"Jean," the hurt look came back to his eyes and they watered slightly. "I can't."
"You've told me so much already…about Bonnie, about your life, Emma…everything…don't back out on me now," she touched his face, holding it in her hand. "I'm here for you Tristan."
His eyes lifted to her, the blue spheres carrying so much pain and scars from over the years, so much confusion and depression that it tore at her. She wanted nothing more then to make it go away.
"Then help me," he whispered.
She nodded her head, seizing her chance without a second thought. "Yes…I'll help you Tristan. Just tell me what to do."
"I can't…you have to figure it out on your own…help me get out of here…make it go away. It's been in me too long…make it go away…help me Jean."
He was fading away, the scenery was slipping and she tried to hold onto him but found it impossible. "Tristan!"
The entire room was going transparent. Tristan along with it. Suddenly the floor gave way and Jean stepped back. Her heart hammering as she barely missed falling into the whirlwind darkness, the arctic air rushing up to her face, making her cheeks numb with cold.
"Help me," it was hardly a whisper at all above the roaring winds that swirled madly at the edge of the cliff, but still his voice.
"I will," she said loudly hoping he could hear. "I'll find you Tristan." And she realized then that only she could help him. Her and her alone. She was the only one he trusted that was left in the world, the only one he loved and the only one that loved him in return. They were connected by a greater bond and now Jean had to use it in order to save him.
With a deep breath, Jean closed her eyes and spread her arms, taking that step into nothingness and plummeting through the wind below.
R&R Please it makes all the difference.