Standard disclaimer: I don't own them; I'm just borrowing them for our entertainment.

X-Men 3.1 Resurrection

Chapter 3 – Alaskan Interlude

The interior of the cabin was a direct contrast from the outside. Outside, it was made of rough wood logs, aged by time and climate. Inside was warm, fragrant, and well, homey. The furniture was simple: a bed, dresser, wardrobe, couch, table, chairs and bookcases. Lots of bookcases. In fact, books seemed to have overrun the house. The kitchen was a small, lean-to addition and what seemed to be bathroom facilities of sorts beyond that. The windows faced the lake and the stunning view.

"Absolutely magnificent," Eric murmured.

"Glad you like it," Scott responded drily as he set the table. Eric spotted Jean in the kitchen, pulling a dish out of the oven.

"How are you, my dear?" he asked when she came back into the main room.

"Better, thank you," Jean replied. "Why are you here, Eric?"

"I need your help," he stated. "And you probably know why."

She sighed. "Charles."

Scott shot her glance but said nothing.

"Well," she said after a moment. "Let's have dinner. Tell me what you've sensed and we'll make plans from there."

X X X

Dinner was simple, but quite good, Eric decided. Meatloaf, fried potatoes, green beans, and the blueberry pie – which as Scott said, was very good. During dinner, Eric explained what he had felt and detailed his phone call to Moira. Jean looked more and more uncomfortable as the story progressed.

"What do you expect me to do?" she complained. "Charles is safe enough on Muir Island."

"Is he?" Eric prompted. "Let's not forget how powerful Charles is. He almost killed us all at Alkali Lake ..."

"Before you reversed the machine to attempt a non-mutant genocide," Scott interrupted.

"Besides the point," Eric continued. "It didn't feel like Charles. Not the man we know."

"Maybe we didn't know him as well as we thought," Jean replied.

Of all people, Jean understood that concept the most.

X X X

As they ate, Scott pondered their predicament and Eric's presence. As Eric outlined the problem, he knew they would have to leave their refuge and act. And that was the part that scared him the most.

The past year hadn't been smooth sailing. The first three months had been the worst. Jean had the attention span of a small child, with a temper to match. There were some days Scott wasn't sure they would succeed. But Jean wanted to control her powers and that gave them an edge. After some discussion, she agreed to give conventional therapy a try, with someone trained in handling multiple personality disorders, which was the best explanation of Jean/Phoenix. That, combined with anger management classes (both conducted by radio), had helped.

Scott also helped, and in unexpected ways. He had always said he couldn't teach others how to control their powers since he previously had no control over his. But that wasn't quite true. Scott was a master at managing his powers, understanding them and the dangers they represented. He was the best teacher in that subject Jean could have had.

And Jean wasn't the only one to benefit from the isolation. Scott was also in much better shape than a year ago. After Alkali Lake, his condition, both mental and physical, had spiraled downwards quickly. He had been worn down by anti-depressant drugs, lack of sleep, lack of food, and Jean's voice in his head. He had been afraid he was going insane; the fear that he was right kept him from voicing his feelings to anyone else. But it had been Jean's voice, calling to him from beneath the lake, waiting for release only a powerful burst of energy could provide. Scott had provided that with his optic blasts. When they came to Alaska, he now understood the origin of the voice, his body rid itself of the unneeded medications, and rest and food completed the physical and mental healing.

Time was truly their ally. Slowly, Jean's attention span improved and so did her control. Tentatively, they began to reach out from the cabin's isolation. They began with overnight stays in small towns, and built up to spending whole weekends in different parts of the state. Jean handled the small crowds well and showed no signs of the psychic meltdowns she had experienced in the past. Scott now wondered if those meltdowns had simply been Phoenix, trying to make herself known. Jean wasn't sure and Scott didn't press the point with her.

In any event, as the spring thaw set in, Scott found himself a job as a pilot. And for the last few weeks, Jean had been volunteering in a nearby village clinic. The locals liked her; she was interested in and respectful of native medicine, and was happy to work in tandem with traditional healers.

But still, Scott knew, and Jean knew, this life they had created wasn't going to be permanent. That Charles Xavier would be the catalyst to bring them out of their retreat, was, Scott felt, one of life's little ironies.

X X X

Thousands of miles away, Charles was also considering life's little ironies. Waking up in another body was hard enough to get used to. The face was impossible. Fortunately, modern medicine had a remedy.

He looked at himself in the mirror. "I think the plastic surgeon did a wonderful job. I really look like myself. What do you think, Moira?"

"Very good," she acknowledged.

"I'd like to think I was taller," Xavier continued as he drew himself up to his new full height, enjoying the sensation of standing on his own two feet. "But we can't have everything."

Moira said nothing.

"Eric can't do anything," he told her sharply. "He can't contact the authorities without giving himself away and my X-Men would turn him over in a heartbeat."

"And what about The Phoenix," Moira replied. "What would she do?"

"He'd have to find her first and she doesn't want to be found."

"And what about Scott," Moira insisted. "What would he do?"

"Scott's in a million pieces at Alkali Lake," Xavier told her with some asperity. "You really don't think she'd bother to put him back together?"

"Jean loved him," she reminded him.

"A mere infatuation," he replied calmly. "Besides, Jean's dead. It was Phoenix who came out of the lake. And I doubt she cared about him at all."

Moira didn't answer the smug comment. She just watched as Xavier continued to inspect his person in the mirror.

X X X

After dinner, Scott went out to sit on the rocks and stare at the lake, trying to put his thoughts and feelings into some kind of order.

He heard a heavy step nearby. "Come and have a seat, Eric," he offered.

"Thank you," he replied and took in the view. "I can see why you stayed here."

"There weren't really a lot of options," Scott informed him tartly. "It would have been too dangerous at the school, especially in the beginning. After she got more control, it was just harder to pick up the com-link and tell Storm. Now we have to and I don't know what to say."

"I'd begin with "hello"," Eric offered. "Ororo is a unique individual, capable of great understanding. They all are. You and Charles taught them well, I've never denied that."

"Did he?" Scott asked bitterly. "Sometimes I wonder."

"Such as?"

"Why did the Professor just lock down her powers, instead of trying to teach her to control them?" Scott finally demanded. "I mean – she's done well. A lot better than I was expecting, really. And from what Jean tells me, he never really tried. Why didn't he?"

Eric sighed. "Charles and I had many arguments about that very thing before I left. I felt she could be trained, but Charles felt she was too emotional, too prone to think with her heart." He smiled slightly. "Not enough like him. He didn't trust her to respond the way he would; therefore, he didn't really trust her."

Scott said nothing. But the disappointed expression on his face said volumes. Eric noticed and tried again.

"Charles has never trusted strong emotions. His experience with them was that they were very destructive. He saw his mother destroyed by her love, first for his father, then for his step-father. But he never understood love could also be a source of great strength. That's why he initially opposed your relationship with Jean. He was afraid of the strength of it. He never realized it could be the salvation of you both."

"Still doesn't explain why he never tried to integrate Phoenix into Jean's conscience life," Scott responded. "His only solution was to lock her out."

"In Charles' defense, at the time, Phoenix may not have wanted this," Eric added. "The fact she does now, is a point in your favor and part of the success. She may not have understood what was at stake when she was young. So don't judge Charles too harshly. He meant well."

"I know," Scott admitted. "It's just – he does have a tendency to make his decisions right and everyone else's wrong."

Eric chucked. "Yes, he does." He was surprised to find this would be an area of agreement for them.

X X X

Jean made up the couch and regarded her handiwork. "I hope you'll be comfortable," she said dubiously.

"My dear, I can sleep anywhere – and have," Eric reminded her.

She smiled slightly at that and wished him good night before joining Scott in the bed across the room.

True to his word, he fell asleep quickly, but it wasn't necessarily peaceful. He woke with a start and looked around, his eyes getting used to the darkness. He spied the bed and could just make out Jean's figure, her arms wrapped around Scott. Was she protecting him or being protected? It probably depended on the hour and her mood, he decided with a smile. It was something else Charles Xavier never understood. He smiled broadly, remembering Charles' shock when he realized just how close his two students had become.

Eric returned to the school at Charles request and had been startled more by his verbal explosion than by the actual news. He couldn't understand why his friend was so upset.

"Come now, Charles," he said, "you're being a little ridiculous. Yes, I understand what they did was technically wrong ..."

"Wrong?" Charles spluttered. "Is that all you can say? I found them in bed together. Scott is still a teenager -- and a minor. Jean could be up on charges."

"You're exaggerating. The age of consent in New York is seventeen. Besides," Eric smiled. "I've spoken to them both. The boy tells me nothing happened between them."

"If you believe that ..."

"I don't, actually, but that's besides the point. That's his story, and he'll stick to it, whatever happens. He'll be eighteen in a few months, Charles, and outside your protection – and control. My advice is – make the best of it. It's really all you can do at this point."

Charles sighed. "I'm afraid of what could happen. We all know what happens to Jean when she loses control, especially when she's under the influence of powerful emotions. Anger, lust – it could be enough to send her over the edge."

It didn't escape Eric's notice the terms he used. He decided to try one of his own. "Perhaps love could save her," he remarked.

Charles only rolled his eyes at that comment.

No, Eric decided, Charles had never really understood them at all.

X X X

The next morning, Scott flipped open his old X-Men com-link and stared at it. Finally, he pushed a button.

"Storm?" he said. "It's Scott. There's something I have to tell you ..."

X X X