Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, X-men or anything else in this story. I'm only writing it for fun.

The Phoenix's Amend

A mutant swapped Scott and Jean's powers and they've decided to rescue the young mutant the Professor asked them to retrieve the old fashioned way... with tactical vests and guns. Will they be able to find the poor mutant girl without getting themselves killed in the process?

Confessions of a wife

Jean sat on the waiting room with her back on the seat and her legs crossed. Her hands rested on her lap on what appeared to be a relaxed position. On the inside, she was fighting the urge to fiddle with her hands or, what would be even better, run away.

It was not in her nature to second guess her own decisions, but she had to admit this particular one was plain stupid.

She argued with herself a couple more minutes before finally deciding to get up and leave but by the time she stood and reached for her bag on the nearby seat, the secretary called her name. "The doctor will see you now, Miss Gray." She announced with a polite smile. Jean instinctively tried to read her mind to find out which way she should go, as she always hated to ask that kind of questions. She thought it made people look stupid and preferred to pick people's brains a little rather than feeling pathetic.

Naturally, the trick didn't work and she soon found herself looking around for a signal or anything that would point her in the right direction. "It's the last door down to the left." The secretary indicated with the condescending that she hated so much. "Thank you." Jean replied suddenly too conscious of the fact that she was blushing.

A man was waiting for her at the small square room at the end of the corridor. He was sitting on an armchair an he rose to greet her. The doctor pointed her to a second sofa and returned to his original position. "So, what's been bothering you, Jean? It's Jean, right?" He asked for confirmation. She nodded uncomfortably and tried to put her thoughts straight. "I've... never done this before." She confessed nervously playing with her hands. "It's all right." He assured her. "Why don't you try to relax and tell me what's going on?" Jean thought that, if he really knew what was going on in her life, he surely wouldn't be sitting there looking so confident and smiling friendly.

She didn't know where to start. There were so many things out of place and so many others she couldn't tell him that it seemed impossible for her to describe her problems to an outsider. "I should have left when I had the chance." She thought as he patiently waited for her answer. "Think, Jean. Think! There has to be something you can tell him!" "I have a problem with my husband." She finally said.

The man nodded calmly and looked at her expectantly, clearly encouraging her to go on. He was tall, ruddy and a little fat. He was even balding a little on the top of his head and wore a plain shirt and a boring necktie. Definitely not the kind of person who would believe in an X-file, she thought.

"Is he cheating on you?" His voice brought her back to reality and she wondered if she'd spent too much time trying to figure out which version of the truth to tell him. "Oh, no! It's not that..." She defended him too soon only to realize the thing with Emma still bothered her. It was her idea in the first place, all right, but it still hurt that he didn't resist her mind control or something. The man saw her hesitate and said nothing, waiting for her to correct herself. He knew it would happen sooner or later, but she just remained silent again. It was way too difficult to explain if you couldn't involve the Phoenix or talk about mutant super powers or mind control. "It's complicated." She finally said with a sigh.

"That's all right. Just try to put it simply." He adviced. That made her realize she'd have to stretch the truth a little if she wanted it to make sense to him and wished again that she had left before. Then it occured to her that maybe and only maybe, he could really help her in some way. "At least he's not systematically trying to make me feel guilty." She thought.

"I encouraged him to see another woman." That was the closest to the truth she was able to tell him but even though it was definitely a half truth, it still hurt her to speak the words. The man seemed mildly surprised but he told her to go on. "You see, I..." "I die every once in a while and he gets hurt and feels lonely so... yeah... like that's gonna work!" That internal joke gave her an idea about the right angle to choose. "I'm really ill." She muttered, suddenly touched by a thought. It occured to her that comparing it to an illness was a really good way to describe what being possessed by the Phoenix felt like. What that entity did to her life was horribly similar to a terminal disease where she constantly acted out and slowly turned into someone else while her body was worn out by the stress of handling the Phoenix.

Jean realized she was drifting away again and tried to remain focused. "I..." She paused as she thought of a way to put it. "...have been ill for many years now. I have come close to death many times and then..." There had to be a better term for rebirth, right? "...then I'd get better for a while but it's only temporary. It always comes back for more and there's no way to cure it." She spoke slowly, fighting the urge to cry as she soaked herself in this censored version of her life. In fact, not being able to talk about it openly only made it much worse. Many more feelings kept bottling inside with no chance to escape.

"But you said you had a problem with your husband, right?" He was trying to lead her to put both ideas together and get to the point. It was one of the things shrinks do, making people face their fears by describing them thoroughly. "I do." She replied a little resented. She didn't like being asked personal questions by complete strangers. "I love my husband and I want him to be happy..." She felt that was the first thing she had said to him that was completely true. "...but I don't think he is." She lowered her eyes for a second. "No. Wait: I know he's not happy." Jean corrected herself immediately. She was sure of it but it was so painful to admit that she had been trying to avoid the thought, telling herself that maybe it was just her fears talking. "Having to go through this with me every time, wishing that things will get better, that this will be over and then seeing me... go unconscious, getting worse again..." She couldn't find the right words. She felt the tears blurrying her vision and blinked them away, making them roll down her cheeks. "I wanted for him to be happy so I moved out..." "to another universe" She ironically added to herself. "I told him to start seeing someone else... There's a woman who likes him so I kind of forced them together and went away. I disappeared from his life so he wouldn't have to suffer for me any more." As she listened to herself, she realized how stupid and messed up her logic was at the time she made that decision. It made no sense to her right now because, even if he had managed to be happy with Emma, he and the rest of the X-men would still be bothered by her every return as they were the ones in charge of killing the Poenix whenever it got out of control. There was no way she could stop being an annoying task to them and she would always hurt them in the process of death and rebirth because they all loved her as a friend. In letting him stay by her side, she would have given him the chance to at least enjoy the brief peaceful moments between the chaos.

Jean grew silent for a while and the psychologist did too, thinking of what she had just told him. When he saw her walking in, he could easily tell that she was probably regretting her visit, but he coudl have never guessed she was mortally ill. She looked so young and full of life, he thouth. He felt real pity for her despite the training on not to relate with the patient.

"Doctor?" She asked when a minute went by in silence. "I'm sorry." He apologized immediately. "I was thinking." The man admitted visibly embarrased. "I'm better now and it seems like it could be definite, although it's difficult to say for sure." She began talking again before he could. "And you don't want to talk about it, not even think about it in case it will lead to another disappointment." She nodded. "He was with that woman for a..." "What's her name?" Psychologists always liked to name everything and call every thing by its name. "Emma." She said as calmly as she could, but he didn't miss the anger in her eyes or the tension on her voice as she spoke her name. "Emma." He repeated. "Yes." She said impatiently. "He's been with her for a while, but we're back together now." "I see." He said in a tone that meant he was sure she was going to get into a jealousy issue. "The thing is... he's really mad at me for forcing him to be with this... with Emma." Jean found that having to call her by her name made her angry but she didn't want the man to begin talking about how important it was to do so. "He says I took away his free when I made the decision for him and we've been arguing about it ever since." The man looked surprised to find she was not going to complain about him and Emma but was worried about something else instead. "I apologized a hundred times and he says he's forgiven me, but I think he's still mad at me." She complained.

"Well, he has the right to be upset." He admited. "But the truth is he could still have chosen not to be with Emma and he didn't." The words hurt and the fact that the man seemed to be calm only made it worse. "Has it occured to you that maybe he's mad at himself for giving up on you when you needed him?" Jean looked up at him and, for a moment, she forgot just how mad she was at the doctor for talking to her like that. His words made complete sense given Scott's tendency to blame himself for everything that went wrong in the universe. She knew he really had no choice about Emma after she tampered with his mind, but now that she came to think of it, it made sense for him to feel guilty about being with her anyway. In fact, he could even be mad at her for making him feel guilty or for making him do something he would never have done under normal circumstances. Maybe he thought she turned him into someone he didn't want to be and now he disgusted himself because of what she did.

At that point, her reasoning became too complex and twisted even for herself and she decided to stop looking for excuses. Realizing that he was mad at himself was surely enough data to begin thinking of a way to fix things without driving herself mad trying to explain every single reasoning step that led him to that conclusion. She just had to find a way for him to forgive himself and stop feeling guilty, that was all. "Easier said than done, sister." She thought afterwards, but the feeling of despair was gone and she allowed herself to smile briefly. "You're probably right. It sounds like something Scott would do." She admited visibly relieved. "He's always blaming himself for everything and that would also explain why he's been making me feel guilty all the time." She reasoned. "It could be, yes. He might feel the need to put you through the samet thing he's feeling."

In that moment, the cell in Jean's purse began to rang and she needn't answer to know who it was and what the call was about. "I'm sorry, doctor. I'm afraid I have to go now. I have to take this call. It's important." With that, Jean left the room and hurried out of the building.

"Scott. What's wrong?" Jean asked through the phone. "It's ¿replica?. They're moving her tomorrow. We need to get her out of there tonight." He explained, his voice filled with worry. "I'm on my way to the mansion. I'll be there in half an hour." She promised with a smile on her voice. Despite the bad news, she was happy to at last know what was going on inside his head and, for the first time in what seemed like years, she felt truly confident that they'd find a way to solve their problems.

Author's notes: Thanks to all those patient enough to wait for this update. I've been really busy in my real life to write fanfics, but I won't stop until I finish this one, even if it takes me another 10 years. I promise you'll see the end someday.