Chapter 19: Escape And Confession
EVERYTHING was hazy in the eyes of the sedated Jean Grey. The room wobbled, voices and words weren't comprehended in her messy head. Everything moved in a blur.
Even the alarms that boomed everywhere weren't enough to snap her out of her daze.
"Hey! Henderson! That's crazy, I was just talking about you." Steve's voice was distorted as it reached her ears.
"Oh, my God!" Dustin and Erica paused after they entered the interrogation room and electrocuted the doctor. They were still out of breath after the stunt they pulled with the green acid to gain the russians' attention.
Seeing his friends chair bound, Dustin rushed to cut them out. "Get ready to run." He cautioned to the dumbly grinning Steve while Erica desperately shook Jean.
"Jean! Wake up!" The ten year old begged, beginning to gently slap the redhead a multitude of times to snap her out her state. All of her attempts proved futile and she sighed.
"This is not how this is supposed to work. You take care of me, remember?" Grabbing Jean's arm and raising her to her feet, Erica supported most of the older girl's weight on her and it proved to be too much. "Dustin, help me!"
To their luck, the four -and the sedated Jean- had no encounter with any of the bad men as ther rushed to the cargo-transporting car.
Steve and Robin wobbled their way into the back, giggling as they did while Dustin and Erica dumped Jean in with them.
"Jesus, slow down!" Steve slurred. The fourteen year old seemed to be driving like there was no tomorrow so they wouldn't get caught. The speed at which they were going was affecting the three in the back, with Jean who was seated suddenly falling over on her back.
"Yeah, what is this, like, the Indy 500?"
"It's the Indy 300."
"No, dingus, it's 500!"
"It's 300!"
"Let's say a million."
Tweedledumb and Tweedledee laughed loudly, their amusement coming from a source unbeknownst to Dustin and Erica who were in the driver's and passenger seats respectively.
"What is wrong with them?" Erica moaned, distressed by the state of the three older people.
Dustin had a firm grip on the wheel, relieved to find that they were almost there to the elevator. "I don't know." He frustratedly shook his head.
Meanwhile in the back, Robin giddily chuckled before looking at Jean whose eyes were closed. "Oh, my god, she's so pretty while she's sleeping." She drawled, reaching out to touch the redhead's cheek, but her perception was so impaired that her hand touched the floor instead.
"Totally." Steve agreed, his eyes widened.
"You should totally kiss her so she'd, like, wake up." Robin suggested to Steve, giggling after she did.
Harrington gasped and pulled up both of his hands to cup his own cheeks. With the burning fever that was induced from the drug that was shot up in his system, he looked like a blushing maiden. "Nooo, you think so?"
"Nobody's kissing anybody back there!" Dustin growled. The young boy was losing his patience at the two's antics. Their drugged state seemed to be making them lose all inhibitions.
"Party popper!" Robin retorted, and it prompted a chuckle from Steve. A grunt soon was released from his mouth once the vehicle abruptly stopped and collided with something.
The sudden change in pace made Jean's body shift just as hard and her head was hit by the metal partition of the car.
Jean groaned, the impact seemingly making her gradually come back. "Ow!" She moaned, lifting a lazy hand to touch her dizzy head.
"Oh, good, you're up." Erica mumbled after opening the door and she dragged Jean out.
The redhead stood on shaky feet, her head barely supported upwards as she flickered her eyes open. Erica grabbed her hand and pulled her in the direction of the elevator.
"Here goes nothin'." Henderson declared before swiping the key card into the electronic lock.
Hiding in a movie theater may not have been the best idea Dustin had come up with, but it was the best option considering their current situation. With Tweedledumb and Tweedledee out of control, and Jean being sedated out of her mind to the point where she could barely walk on her own, a dark room where they all sat to pass the storm seemed like the perfect idea.
As he left to try and contact the party in order to obtain a ride home, the on edge Dustin left Erica in charge. Unfortunately, the little girl was so preoccupied with the movie that she didn't pay attention when the drugged duo decided to leave.
Jean's consciousness was slowly regained throughout the movie, its loud volume and soundtrack boomed into her ears and snapped her out of the drowsiness the drug had induced upon her.
She tilted her head from side to side to properly take in her surroundings, and Jean found that she was seated in the back next to strangers. Her eyes darted to the front and saw the familiar outfit Erica Sinclair had been wearing for the past 24 hours, and she sighed in relief.
Jean's eyelids were still heavy, and she was scared that she might go under once again, especially with how dark the room was. So she got up to her feet and headed outside the theater to wash her face.
On her way to the bathroom, the redhead supported herself against the padded walls as she walked on her somewhat unsteady feet.
Steve Harrington was in one of the bathroom stalls, crouching over the toilet. He painfully emptied the contents of his stomach, vomiting stuff he didn't even know he ate. With each bout of emesis, he whimpered and cursed that beautiful rooftop that got him dizzy in the first place.
And if things couldn't any worse, some asshole was knocking on the one stall that wasn't empty.
"OCCUPIED!" Steve growled, lashing out all of his misery on the person on the other side of the door.
"Steve?" Jean asked with a soft pitch.
She'd walked into the bathroom and splashed some water on her face and it admittedly refreshed her. But hearing the vomiting sound echoing out in the bathroom, she knocked in concern to see if the person was doing alright.
Steve's eyes went wide, recognizing that soft voice anywhere, immediately shifting his demeanor to a much more gentle one. "Jean? What are you doing here?" He lifted his head out the toilet and stared at the closed door of the stall, sure that she was on the other side.
Jean dropped her hand from the door, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Well, this is the ladies bathroom." She replied, a smirk on her lips.
Eyes widening even further, Steve realized that he'd been in such a rush to get to the bathroom that he'd accidentally walked into the wrong one. "Oh." He chuckled before feeling another bout coming his way, the bile going further up his throat and he couldn't hold it back any longer. So he went for it.
Jean's face once again morphed into a concerned look at the sounds, her arm dropping by her side. "Hey, are you okay?"
"Yeah totally." Steve lied through clenched teeth, hoping to god that the vomiting noises didn't put her off.
Jean could practically hear the gagging sounds and she winced at his struggle. "Really? Because I just passed by Robin in the hallway and she was vomiting her guts out in the trash can."
"Oh, yeah that." He breathed out, finding difficulty to speak. He hugged the toilet, hoping she'd just go away and not hear any more of this. He'd never let himself live this down.
Unfortunately, the opposite of his wish came true. And he heard the door creaking open. "No, no, no! Don't come in." He frantically yelled, giving Jean a scare and making her halt in her action, coiling back.
"You sure? Don't you want me to go in there and hold your hair back for you?" She playfully joked, but her words stemming from the desire to help him through this, just like he aided her earlier with her moment of weakness and fright from her own powers.
Steve laughed at her jest, but later regretted it because the rumble in his chest caused him to go at it and throw up again.
Eventually Jean relented on the thought of entering, but she refused to go away. She slid down and sat on the hopefully clean floor to wait this out with him. Although embarrassed at first, Steve appreciated the kind gesture.
A few minutes passed, and the red haired girl heard nothing blaring from the stall Steve was in, indicating that he was done.
"Are you feeling better now?" She queried with hopeful eyes.
Steve sighed and moved away from the toilet, he looked up at the ceiling and found that it was no longer spinning. In fact, he felt like himself again. "Yeah, I think I flushed it out of my system." He declared, much to Jean's relief.
"Good."
Steve looked to the tiled floor, smiling to himself, relishing in the fact that this was their first time alone in a long while. "Ask me something just to make sure."
Jean found his request to be odd for a moment, then she grinned widely, finding this to be an opportunity to ask him something that's been occupying a significant space of her curiosity. "Okay, why do you use the Farah Fawcett hairspray?" She asked with a chuckle. The very first time they'd met, she had read his thoughts and found out about his hair care routine. She never asked him before and now she wanted to know.
Steve ran a hand over his face, wishing he'd never asked her to guarantee his soberness. "No!"
"Yes!"
He sighed, smacking his lips afterwards. "It gives my hair volume, alright?"
Jean raised her eyebrows. "I better try it out then."
Steve shook his head. "You don't need it, trust me. You have beautiful hair." He affectionately complimented. You have beautiful everything, Jean. Steve thought and he wouldn't have minded if she'd read his mind at this moment -she didn't- because it was the absolute truth.
Jean could feel the heat creeping up her neck and settling on her cheeks, she was sure they were as red as her hair from how sincere Steve was. She would never get this sort of reaction if someone else had complimented her, maybe not even Billy.
She was becoming more sure that he was the one who'd written her that letter. Even after the hell she had gone through in the Russian base, Jean was still adamant on finding out who'd felt so strongly for her.
"My turn." Steve declared, prompting the red haired girl to furrow her eyebrows. "Go for it."
With a deep sigh, Steve gathered his courage to ask the one thing he knew couldn't handle the answer to if it wasn't what he wanted it to be.
"Do you..like Billy?"
Jean's eyes flew open and became as wide as saucers. "What? No." She shook her head, but in truth, she didn't know how she felt towards the blonde lifeguard. "I mean, he's just..an unexpected guy. He can be nice one minute, and a complete asshole the next."
"Then why do you associate with him from the beginning?" Steve asked, frowning.
Jean shrugged. "He's been through a lot. I thought I understood him, but I guess I was wrong.." She trailed off, her teeth clenching at the end. Fortunately, her answer didn't elicit a response from Steve.
"Ask me another question." He indicated, snapping her from her thoughts. He wanted to change the topic, and he was also stalling just so she wouldn't suggest they go back to the theater and interrupt their long-awaited alone time.
Smiling, she thought of a relevant question that she could ask him.
"Who was your first love?" Jean didn't know where she was going with that question. It wasn't like he was going to reveal that he wrote that love letter to her or anything at the inquiry. But she wanted to know if he would hint at having such feelings for her like it said in the card. Everything would've been so much easier if she'd just read his mind and found out for sure, but it just didn't seem right to Jean. If it had been him, then he didn't want her to know for a reason.
Steve cringed, remembering his first love and first heartache. "Nancy Wheeler. First semester, senior year."
Jean became surprised and somewhat confused. "Nancy Wheeler? As in Mike's older sister, Nancy Wheeler?"
"Yup." He confirmed, popping his lips at the 'P'.
She remembered the awkward atmosphere that arose when she stood in their presence at the party they've been invited to a couple of months ago. "I knew something was up between you two. What happened?"
Steve sighed, slicking back his hair. "She left me for someone. She was actually the first girl I ever fell for and.. she broke my heart."
With a hand raised to place over her heart, Jean couldn't help but sympathize with the brown haired sweetheart. "I'm sorry." She softly said, and it prompted a scoff from Steve, which surprised her greatly.
"Don't be."
"Why?"
Steve pursed his lips, becoming anxious once he contemplated telling her how he really felt. "It's..because I moved on and fell for someone else."
Jean swallowed down the bitterness that rose in her throat. Could she be jealous of whoever he was talking to? Jean shook her head, and forced a smile even though the door was still closed and they couldn't see each other's face. "Really?"
"Yeah. It's someone that I didn't even go to school with, which is I'm thankful for because I wouldn't have appreciated what a genuinely good person she is back then." Steve stated, holding back a snort on how much of an asshole he was. If Jean had went to school with them, he was sure that she wouldn't have liked the person that he used to be.
For all the heartbreak Nancy had put him through, he was thankful to her. If it weren't what he'd gone through, he wouldn't have had this much personal growth. And if he hadn't broken through his popular guy facade, he wouldn't have met and fell for Jean.
Jean brought her thumb and placed it between her lips, lightly nibbling on her fingernail as she listened to him. Was he talking about her?
"And despite the fact that I was a total jerk to her and insulted her the first time we met, she still managed to get passed that. I mean she got me through shit I wouldn't have been able to on my own. She's honestly unlike anyone I've ever met before."
Yes, he was definitely talking about her, unless he had a habit of making bad first impressions on everyone.
Steve gave a breathy chuckle scratching at his head. He thought that he was finally seeing things more clearly than he ever did in his entire life with her by his side.
He felt immense relief putting his feelings out there. Dustin was right. He kept telling him to go get his Suzie. He urged him on to go for it, to tell her how he felt. Either that or move on with someone like Robin.
"It's weird, for about the last year, I felt like there was something missing from my life, and I didn't even realize what it was until she came along."
Jean took a deep breath, now sure that he was talking about her and that he was her 'secret admirer'. It was Steve. Her closest friend. She grinned like a mad woman, brushing back her red hair with a brisk hand.
The redhead was flustered, the revelation bombarding her with so many questions that she didn't think was humanly possible. Steve was handsome, funny, adorably goofy, kindhearted, and apparently a kickass when it came to beating up russians. She couldn't deny the attraction she'd felt towards him, and the warmth she sensed in his presence. But is it love? Was this the first time she felt this way? Why did it feel like it wasn't?
'When I lose control, bad things happen to the people I love.'
Jean's smile fell, and froze as the sentence echoed in her head, these words were spoken by her, another her. One that was so broken that she regretted ever caring for people in the first place.
At first, the sailor uniform-clad teenager was glad that a door was separating them because he was able to speak more freely without hesitation or feeling embarrassed. But now, he grew anxious when he couldn't see her reaction. And he was even more worried now that she wasn't replying. "Jean? You okay out there?"
Did he just ruin their friendship? Steve wondered in panic.
Jean had been so distracted with her dark thoughts that she practically flinched when Steve knocked on the inside of the stall door.
"Yeah, I'm good." She replied with a shaky voice. It made Steve's anxiety spike and he bit his lip, an action he immediately regretted because of how busted his lips were.
Unable to wait to find out about her answer to his feelings, Steve jumped up to his feet and swung the door open to see the seated Jean. He took a few steps forward before plopping down in front of her.
He saw her uncrossing and crossing her legs, probably shifting from a previously uncomfortable posture.
Jean gulped, forcing her thoughts away from her head once she gazed at his face, his bruise covered face. "God, your face looks even more messed up in this lighting." Jean chuckled, but internally feeling bad to see him this beat up, she didn't know it was an annual event for him.
Steve snickered. "Thanks, you look great, too."
The two looked down for a moment, awkwardly averting their gaze from each other. Jean licked her lips, feeling obligated to give him an answer.
"So what do you think?" Steve was the first to break the silence.
Jean looked up at him, feigning curiosity. "About what?"
"The guy."
Jean gave him a soft smile. "I think he's the one who's responsible for a certain love letter."
Steve reciprocated her expression, chuckling at the end. "Uh, oh. He's so busted."
Swallowing thickly, the red haired telepath decided to cut the bullshit. To tell him right away what she thought of him and herself. "Look, this guy.. He doesn't even know this girl - heck, she doesn't even know herself." Jean said, seeing how Steve curiously glanced at her.
Her eyes turned glossy from the thickening tear film. "And I'm scared that if he got to know her -like the real her- he wouldn't want anything to do with her."
Steve furrowed his dark brows at her, he didn't understand what she was talking about, but he knew for a fact that she was wrong. "Jean, that's not gonna happen."
Jean recalled the memories that were apparently blocked from her, and for good reason. She's only seen a tiny piece of it, and it was bad enough.
A bloody shirt. Accusatory glances sent her way. The tidal wave of regret and guilt that she knew wandered in the back of her head.
She couldn't deny any of it.
"I've done things, Steve. Bad things."
Steve gave her an incredulous shake of his head, assuming that she was talking about the Russian soldiers she hurt. "If it's about what happened down there, I told you that it doesn't matter. They would've done worse things to you if they got the chance."
It wasn't just that.
"You don't understand, Steve." Jean's lower lip trembled, her finger nails digging sharply into the palm of her hands.
"Well, then tell me." Steve wanted to understand, to know what was distressing her so badly. He wanted to help her just like she helped him back when he felt like nothing could cheer him up, when he felt nothing but rejection. She was his ray of sunshine at the his darkest times, and he wanted to be the same.
"Sometimes..I get flashes." Jean paused, and Steve could see how pale her face had become. "Glimpses of the person I used to be."
If he was being honest, Steve would constantly forget that Jean had amnesia. She never spoke of any memory recollections, nor did she display any distress about not being able to remember. She seemed to be enjoying herself, like she was free from the shackles of her mysterious past. He didn't know she was struggling in secret. "Why haven't you told me this before?"
"Because.." She took a sharp breath to prevent herself from forming any more tears or else they'd spill from her eyes. "Because I thought that by talking about it, it would seem more real. And if I don't then I pretend that they're just nightmares."
She was in denial, a hypocrite. She'd convinced herself that she wanted to remember who she was and what her past was like, but in truth, she was blocking any memory that tried to resurface. Jean didn't want to recall the possible horrid things that she may have committed, so she'd shrug them off as nightmares or just simply force them away in the darkest corner of her mind.
Even right now, she didn't want to talk about it because of the possibility that they could come flooding back. She didn't want to trigger something that her own mind was protecting her from.
"Hey, it's okay." He cooed, unconsciously reaching out and holding her hand, and assuring her that she didn't have to get into it right now. Steve didn't want her digging up something that clearly caused her so much pain.
"There's something wrong with me, Steve. And it scares me so much." She said with so much pain that he could feel it. So he gave a comforting squeeze to her hand that he still held. "Hey, there's nothing wrong with you."
"I'm different." She uttered those words in a manner that screamed: why do you even bother with me?
Steve dedicated a bright smile in her way. "That's precisely why I like you." She was almost blinded by his sincerity and Jean was quick to clarify her point. "Not in a good way."
"No way is that true, Jean. You're funny, you're smart, you have awesome powers." He rambled, his grin turning wider if that was even possible. "You're beautiful, Jean. Inside and out. And no matter what happens, you're still you. That's what I will always see."
If only she saw what he sees in her, he thought.
Jean Grey felt flustered with the heavy look of Steve Harrington on her. He seemed to be truly fascinated by her, as if she was the most splendid piece of art ever made.
And so, her green eyes drowned in the intensity of his dark ones.
"You're a really great guy, Steve." Said Jean, a soft smile gracing her eyes and cheeks. She couldn't help but cheer up with the pleasant aura he radiated.
Steve shook his head at the compliment, about to shrug it off but Jean wasn't having it, continuing to speak. "I mean it. You're perfect."
He swallowed nervously, feeling trapped in the eyes of the girl sitting in front of him. Steve had never been called perfect anything in his life -save for his hair- and so he wasn't used to it, especially when it came from a girl he bared such strong feelings for.
Even when he was the King of Hawkins High, he still struggled with his own insecurities. Yes, he had the hair, popularity and the nicest car. But he wasn't the smartest kid in school or the most talented. Perhaps that was why he surrounded himself with people like Tommy or Carol and seeked their approval. And why he so easily (and falsely) thought that someone as good as Nancy would readily cheat on him when they first started dating.
So naturally, Steve felt his heart fluttering faster than a hummingbird flapping its wings at how genuinely she'd said it. She truly believed it.
Maybe he did have a chance after all.
Her following confession would confirm his hopeful assumption.
"And I like you, Steve. Not just in a 'you're my friend' sort of way. I really like you."
Steve was over the moon with her words. The girl who he liked reciprocated his feelings. His eyes shone in pure bliss and he felt like the luckiest guy in the world at this very moment.
Jean could see him wrapping his arm tighter around his knees, it was like he was fighting every instinct in him not to jump forward and kiss her. And she was right. He was waiting for her to finish talking.
"I just...I'm sorry but I need some time to think." His nice and supportive words didn't change the fact that she was dangerous. Her growing feelings for him, if anything made her even more adamant on guaranteeing that she was safe to be around. She didn't want to break his heart, but she didn't want to break him even more.
"Oh." Steve dejectedly mumbled, his eyes widening at first.
The redhead saw how his ecstatic face was quickly replaced by a downcast look. And it tugged at her heartstrings as she stared at him and awaited for his actual reply.
Steve licked his lips then quickly pursed them, a reluctant nod of his head soon followed. "I understand."
He wasn't about to force an answer out of her right now. She deserved the time to contemplate on what she wanted to do, especially with the hell she's been and still is going through. She was hesitant about everything; her own existence, her powers. And so he didn't want her to feel like she had to make a decision right away. She liked him, that was good enough for him for now.
He would gladly wait.
Jean inhaled sharply, feeling that she'd done him wrong. Steve didn't deserve an indecisive person, but she just had to pull herself together before entering a relationship. She just had to.
"I'm sorry." She apologized once again, her eyes glistening.
Steve sent her a playful smile, trying to lighten the mood. "You don't have to be sorry all the time."
The red haired girl looked down to the tiles bathroom floor, she remembered when she'd uttered those exact same words to him long ago and a matching grin soon played on her lips. She then gave him the same reply he gave her at the time.
"I did not know that." Jean giggled and took her gaze from their joined hands and to his eyes, only to find his face was a short distance from hers, and this managed to make the air trapped in her throat. They looked at each other, blinkless. And she watched his perfectly slicked back hair and how his broad shoulders lowered and raised by his slow breathing.
"So I guess we're not making it to the festival, huh?" He humorously asked.
Jean gently shook her head. "I don't think so."
"There's always a next time." Steve replied, giving a slight shrug.
"Thanks. For always being here for me." She softly spoke, grateful for his always supportive presence in her life. Steve was truly a gift.
And he thought the same about her.
"Don't mention it, and right back at ya." He said, his comforting smile still drawn on his lips.
She gulped, feeling a spark lighting within her the longer they stared at each other, their breathing pattern syncing. Her hand rose with subtlety from his hand to softly place on his bruised cheek.
He felt warm under her fingers. Nice. Jean didn't even realize what she was doing anymore, as she ran her fingers on his cheek. Her fingers traced the form of his jaw, touching his chin and hair.
Steve's heart seemed to stop in his chest for a fraction of a second at the proximity and the soft touch of Jean on his skin.
While the redhead blinked because he seemed closer than before, only a few inches were separating their faces. It felt as if the atmosphere had shifted; it was heavy, intense and raw. Jean almost gave in, knowing that deep down, she wanted this.
Then the bathroom door flew open with a loud whoosh.
As if they suddenly had caught on fire, both him and Jean jumped back, away from each other. They turned to look at the door at the other side of the bathroom.
There stood an aggravated Dustin, a smirking Robin, and a disgusted Erica.
Jean's eyes went wide, as if just now she had noticed what she was about to do. An action that would have completely contradicted her previous statement of needing to think about their relationship.
"What the hell?!" Dustin yelled at the two, placing his hands on her hips, expecting an answer from them like a disappointed parent.
Steve huffed in frustration, resisting the urge to flop on the ground and whine like a child at the interruption of what would've been a magical moment.
"Why do you hate me, Dustin?" He hissed through clenched teeth, pulling at his hair in frustration.
Jean laughed.