I hope this serves to resolve some of the questions brought up by the last chapter. I'm glad you all seem to be enjoying things so far! There's plenty more to come, I only hope the Scott-Jean interaction in this chapter is satisfactory.

As a side note, it's not going to be the run-of-the-mill Jean/Scott love story...sorry to those of you who may or may not have been hoping for it...It's going to be Jean/Logan, with some Scott/Ororo undertones, initially, before making it's way into Scott? because I don't know. I'm hoping the plot and relationship I've been brainstorming are going to get as positive a response as I've received so far. If you care, take a moment to reread my summary and notes.

Thank you, and on with the show...

Chapter Five: Homecoming

Scott sat in the back of the jet, trying to steady himself. Ororo put the Blackbird on autopilot and came back to sit beside him tentatively.

"How are you feeling?" She asked. He closed his eyes and shook his head before replying.

"Dizzy," he admitted grudgingly. "Tired. Sick."

"Scott," Ororo pressed him at length. "Can you tell me the last thing that you remember? Before you woke up today." He paused a moment to consider, his stomach still churning dangerously.

"I remember," he began anxiously, "The rally, at the warehouse, and the fire. How could I end up in Canada?" Ororo sighed heavily and looked away from him, pensive.

"Scott," she addressed him finally. "There's something I need to tell you, and you probably won't believe it. But, since that day, Scott, you've been gone over two and a half years."

"That's...not...possible. How could it be? I feel like it was just yesterday." He protested, reeling. "You're saying I've been gone all that time? How could something like that happen?"

"I don't know, Scott, I really don't know," she admitted. "But we did everything we could to find you, and that's the truth. Jean, Logan, and I searched for weeks, some of the kids too. The Professor spent almost days at a time in Cerebro, without even stumbling over a passing shadow of you...You have to understand, there has to be a point. We all thought you must be dead." Scott sank back in his chair heavily.

"This is too much," he told her, pressing a hand to his brow. "Right now I just want to go home...and sleep in my own bed." He turned his head away from her to prove his point

"There's one more thing you need to know, before we get back," Ororo continued, demanding his attention once again. "And it won't be easy to hear—"

"Will it be easier than hearing that I've lost almost three years of my life?" He questioned bitterly, without turning back to face her.

"And you won't understand," She went on without missing a beat. "Jean, she—" Ororo had his full attention now, as he practically jumped out of his chair, asking:

"What's wrong? Is she alright? God, if anything happened to her while I was gone..." Ororo placed a slender hand on his arm to calm him.

"She's alright Scott," Ororo assured him soothingly, "But she," she took a breath to get it out quickly, ripping the band-aid off all at once, "She got married—" Scott was dead still, his heart paralyzed. But the worst was yet to come.

"To Logan." Then came the awful, nauseous feeling he had gotten the first time he had seen the love of his life with the boorish man.

"They have a daughter now." It was official; his heart had been ripped from his chest, and now laid in shattered pieces on the floor. Scott groaned audibly, turning back towards the window.

"You've got to understand, Scott," Ororo felt obligated to defend Jean's new life. "You were dead." She thought he hadn't heard her until he replied:

"But I wasn't."

Arriving at the mansion did nothing to put Scott's troubled mind at ease. It was the moment he had been dreading, facing Jean...and Logan, knowing that he had lost the battle.

Ororo landed the jet softly in the hanger under the basketball court. Scott emerged from the underground bay just a few paces ahead of the weather goddess.

That's when he saw her. She was still the same old Jean, still long and slender and strong and beautiful after so much time. As collected as he would have liked to appear, he reeled in that moment he first saw her, loosing his breath almost, just like old times. And in that instant she had wrapped him in a warm embrace.

"Scott, thank God you're home," her voice in his ear sent shivers down his spin. "Thank God you're home. Scott, I need to tell you what's happened—"

"Don't," he cut her off a little more harshly than he intended. She seemed a bit taken aback. "It's alright. I've already heard..."

"Everything?" She questioned. He nodded. "And are you alright?"

"As well as can be expected," he replied blandly. Jean flashed him a bittersweet smile.

"I can't even tell you how glad I am that you're safe," She offered him gently. "You should come see her," she suggested warmly.

"Who?" Scott asked, brow creasing with inquisition.

"My daughter," Jean explained. Scott's stomach churned harder. "Summer, we named her after you." Scott forced an awkward smile. What an honor. "Would you like to meet her?"

Why, in the name of all that was holy would he want to meet her? Whether knowingly or not, this completely innocent little girl was the embodiment of the relationship that the love of his life had with another man. What reason could he possibly have for wanting to see her? But the truth was that the little girl who bore his name was a piece of Jean, and so he cherished her already.

"I'd love to," he answered.

Jean opened the door to a dark nursery; that was with the exception of the mobile hanging above the crib against one wall. Jean moved to the large window at the opposite side of the room and drew the curtains back to allow the sunlight in.

"Rise and shine," she chorused, lovingly, moving to the crib to turn off the mobile.

Scott paced towards her as she produced the small child from her cradle, clad in lavender footie-pajamas. Jean held her safely in her arms, nestled onto her hip. The baby had a head full of gentle cornsilk-blond curls, chubby cheeks, expressive blue eyes, and two fingers stuck comfortingly in her mouth.

"This is Summer," Jean explained in the gentle soprano that was reserved for babies and puppies. "Summer, this is your Uncle Scott...Do you want to hold her?" Scott nodded silently as Jean shifted the infant's weight in her arms. Summer reached for him, and, smiling, he gathered her into his arms.

"She's gorgeous," he began reverently. Jean nodded, looking on with loving eyes. "Look at that head of hair," he went on.

"Surprising isn't it?" She questioned. Scott shrugged.

"It's like your mother's," he noted. Jean nodded.

"It is, isn't it?" She agreed, "But she's got Logan's eyes for sure..." Scott nodded sadly. "She loves car rides," Jean went on. "Sometimes they're the only thing that'll get her to sleep at night. Maybe you could take her out one night...if you want." Scott nodded.

"I'd love to," he agreed. Then added, at length, "No powers, yet, I'm guessing." Jean shook her head.

"Not yet," she agreed. "But when—or if—they do manifest, we'll be ready. She'll be safe..." There was a break in the conversation before Jean finally announced, "The professor wants to see you." Scott suspected she had just received some sort of mental page as she lifted the child from his arms, taking her back to the crib. "I'll take you."

"No, I'm alright." Scott protested, "As long as his office is still in the same place."

"Of course," Jean replied. "He's always liked the view of the lake." Scott nodded.

"I'll see you later then," he offered, finally, leaving the nursery and heading to Professor Xavier's office.