My beloved readers, I am gravely sorry for the wait, and for the quality and length of this chapter. I had been hoping that going to see X-Men3 would boost my morale and inspire me to get on with things...but it didn't. I can promise only infrequent updates, at best for now. We have come into a particularly difficult transition period, and any comments or ideas are, as always, invaluable.
Chapter Nine: A Step Towards Normal
Scott woke before his eyes opened; it was instinctual to him by now. His world was nothing but blackness, but he knew where he was; the smell was unmistakable. He was in his room...their room...and it was the last place in the world he wanted to be.
Even after he opened his eyes the roomremained black as pitch. It was nighttime now and the darkness and ghosts surrounded him. He could feel her everywhere; he could feel them: the smell of Chanel in the pillows, a shadow in the vanity mirror, his cologne and her lotion arranged harmoniously on the dresser. The bittersweet memories overwhelmed him.
Scott only paused a moment to make sure that he was fullydressed before rushing out of the room. The hallway beyond the bedchamber was deserted. The dimmed lights cast long shadows across the floor that seemed to follow him wherever he moved. Scott could not recall a time when he felt more alone at the mansion.
He descended the stairs as quickly and quietly as he could, and he was not sure why he was compelled to proceed so cautiously. The antechamber below was darker than the one above; the only light was cast across the floor through the arched doorway leading to the sitting room. Scott peered inside carefully, finding that some of the teachers were gathered over coffee.
"Scott," the professor did not fail to notice him. "You're awake. Come, have a seat." Scott blinked slightly.
"What time is it?" He asked, taking a careful step into the room.
"A little after 11:30, I think," Ororo explained.
"I've been asleep for a few hours then," Scott determined, still unable to join his colleagues as they lounged around the coffee table, opting instead to stand between their gathering and the exit, as if he was poised to run at a moment's notice.
"Actually, Scott, it's Saturday night. You've been asleep for over two days," the professor replied. Scott scoffed inwardly: it figured that after a two year absence the first thing he would do is sleep through almost an entire weekend. "I have a feeling that you were running on mostly adrenaline since you arrived home."
"We were just waiting for the last of the children to return from their excursions into the city," Ororo explained. "Please, come in and wait with us if you feel up to it." She motioned to the seat on the couch besides her. After a brief moment of contemplation, Scott inched forward tentatively, sitting himself down besides the weather goddess.
"Scott," Professor Xavier addressed him carefully. "I was wondering if you had any plans or desires as far as being reintroduced to the everyday lives of the students...perhaps you'd like to speak with them, or—"
"Actually, Professor," Scott interrupted his mentor as respectfully as he could manage. "I was hoping I could start teaching again."
"That sounds like a marvelous plan," the professor offered in agreement. "Did you have any specific time in mind to begin?"
"As soon as possible," Scott returned. "Preferably Monday."
"You don't think that's a little too soon," Jean interceded. "You've only been home a few days; you'll have barely any time to prepare. The students—"
"Scott," Professor Xavier pressed, interrupting her unobtrusively. "Are you sure you're well enough to begin teaching again?"
"With all due respect, professor," he insisted. "The only way I can think to start feeling normal, is to start acting normal. I'm ready to take my life back: no special treatment, no condolences. I just want to get back to teaching my classes and living my life."
"Which classes were you thinking about taking up?" Ororo questioned encouragingly.
"English and math," he elaborated. "Six periods a day—like always."
"Don't you think it would be wise to begin with a more temperate course schedule at first?" Jean suggested, perhaps posing more of a challenge than she had intended to.
"Two Algebra II classes, one Calculus class, two AP American Lit classes, one AP British Writers class, and one planning period—that's the way I've always done it." Scott replied, "And I've never had a problem."
"A lot has changed since then, and I just don't think that's the best way to go about things," Jean offered kindly.
"But still," the professor assured her. "It is Scott's decision to make. As long as he feels he's ready, we should trust his judgment—after all, no one understands his current situation better than he does." Scott nodded to the professor in thanks. Jean sighed slightly in agreement, although all those present were sure the altercation between her and the professor had continued mentally for some time.
"Just let me know where the classes are and I'll have the lesson plans ready by tomorrow afternoon," Scott offered agreeably, maintaining a forced eye-contact.
"I'd be glad to look them over for you," Jean suggested compassionately.
"Sure thing," Scott replied affirmatively with a casual smile.
The rest of faculty looked on in silent suspense at the altercation, unsure of how to approach such a foreign situation. It was the first time in a very long time that any of them had seen Scott and Jean fighting.