Title: Starting Over
Pairing: Well, several. Jean/Logan and Scott/Emma for sure. Maybe a bit of Kitty/Colossus and Rogue/Remy for fun and flair. We'll see what we get into. :)
Rating: T at the beginning (mainly for language, because dude...seriously...Logan swears a lot.), M (for fluff, maybe?) later on.
Author's Note: Chapter 2, up in a jif. I'm on a streak for the moment. :) For anyone who remembers what was here previously, I'm going in a slightly different direction, but only slightly. Don't worry, though...good things will come.
It's a funny thing, trying to escape notice when you're essentially at (or, at the very least, near) the top of the mutant most wanted list. You try sneaking onto the planet when you've got a force of creation seeping from your pores.
Then again, most folks just see what they want to see.
Jean Grey, recently reborn, mutant, avatar of the Phoenix Force, was having a glorious day.
It was that perfect mix of sunny and cloudy, just warm enough to leave your arms bare but not so warm to make you sweat. The end of summer feel was coming, but for now? For now it was beautiful out.
Inside was even better. This is what Jean kept telling herself as she looked around her apartment on the outskirts of Philadelphia and made a mental list of what she would need for work next week. She had most of her supplies pulled together, but the start of a new semester always made her want to triple check.
"Post its, check. Pens, check. Mechanical pencils, check. Better erasers because these are terrible, check."
Out loud and proud, right? Right.
The tiny pang Jean felt could be ignored. No need to remember a life with other mutants, all sharing in the journey of trying to control and learn about your abilities. No need to dwell on that sense of camaraderie, that sense of family that never quite matched her own.
No need to dwell on any of it. No siree.
Jean chewed on her thumbnail absently, considering her options. It had been a long summer of working odd jobs until she had enough money to look the part of the teacher she was trying to be. It was...a hope, anyway, for something akin to the comforts of the past without as much of the fear of the present.
I get it. I do. But you don't get me, or what it takes to endure.
Realizing she was chewing her thumbnail to bits, Jean chided herself for falling into old bad habits. Taking a deep breath, she sank to the floor in a meditation pose and worked to reframe.
This is your new life. And it's a good one. With time, you may have the opportunity to be back with your friends. But it's on you to prove yourself. You're not responsible for how they react, only for what you do. You're responsible for you.
The mantra helped, most days. Jean idly wondered in the back of her mind what her therapist would think if she really knew who she was counselling. Trying to explain the numerous deaths (both her own and others), the escalation of powers, trying to save the universe.
It's no wonder all of us have some form of PTSD.
It helped, though, to try to generalize her life. It'd been too much to attempt to just figure it out as she went. Too much power, too much corruption, and too much time wasted trying to sort it all out.
As it often did during these meditations, her mind flashed back to Logan's words, uttered when she was resurrected far too early by the Phoenix Force.
"You told me the Phoenix has a purpose, Jeannie. It burns away what doesn't work. So what'd you come to burn?"
And that was the question, wasn't it?
What am I here to burn?
The options might actually be endless, but perhaps this would be a good starting place:
Burn away my revolving door to the afterlife.
Jean sighed, focusing herself once again on the mantra.
You're responsible for you.
She'd better be. Trying to arrive unannounced, with the X Men distracted and looking the other way, with Cerebra not actively looking for any mutants, with nobody trying to find the Phoenix Force had been hell. Trying to distract the Shi'ar had taken more work, because heaven forbid she be allowed to come back in peace and not take out 5 billion people. Noooooo, SOME people had to summon her early and drive her insane and-
Now, now. You were corrupted and taken over, yes, but it was still you. Remember. You're responsible for you, in all states of mind.
And wasn't that a depressing thought? At least here, outside of Philly, she was just Elaine Greyson, the new teacher at the local high school. Glasses, hair up in a bun, and an understated wardrobe had helped camouflage her from anyone who might recognize her as one of the members of the X Men. It was amazing, honestly, how people could ignore what was right in front of them.
Reframe, reframe...
Alright.
So I committed an atrocity. I did it. That's not to say so what, but I did it and it happened. I can work to make sure it not only never happens again, but that I can put more good into the world. It won't make it even, but at least it won't make it worse.
Baby steps.
And baby steps were important, like the one she needed to make here. A burner cell phone and a number sat on the bedside table. Jean chewed her lip, wondering if this was suicidal or just plain stupid. Maybe both.
Oh, screw it...
Her mind reached out to just barely brush another, just over 100 miles away. Sure that he was alone for a walk, cell in his pocket. She sat on the side of her bed and dialed the number, toes curling into the floor as she listened to the rings. It was everything she could do to not hang up and go back to her planning.
Please don't answer please don't answer oh sh-
"Yeah?"
Silence. Words started to form and then were discarded rapidly after hearing the familiar rough voice.
"If this is some prank you ass-you asinine kids are pulling, I will hunt each of you down in the Danger Room and rip your heads off."
Jean chuckled, wondering how many students had learned the hard way not to prank their favourite PE teacher. The frustrated huffing on the other end went dead and she looked at the phone to make sure the call hadn't dropped. Seeing it was still connected, she barely caught the whisper from the other end.
"Jean?"