Note: Thanks again for the kind words on the story. It's great encouragement to keep going.

I realize this chapter is a bit thin on the Rogue storyline as well. I promise that she has a major major role here. But, explaining what's going on with Scott is taking a bit of time. So, please bear with me a little longer.

Telepathy here is shown with italics and underline. Regular thought is simply italics.

Chapter Three

Marie cracked the door of her room open. "Bobby?"

"Yeah, why are you hiding? You got another guy in there?" He laughed at his own teasing, but there was a tightness around his eyes.

"Sure. Little old vampire me is sucking the life out of them every chance I get and stacking them in the corner of my room." It didn't sound as funny spoken as it had in her head.

"Rogue."

She opened the door a bit more and leaned farther into the hallway. "What? Of course, I don't have a guy in here. God, Bobby."

"I'm still trying to figure out why you're avoiding me, is all."

Kitty, she almost snapped. But, that wasn't true. Kitty was just a smoke-screen her mind liked to throw up so she wouldn't look at the ugly reality. She couldn't touch him, and whether that bothered him or not, being around him reminded her constantly of what she wanted most and couldn't -- probably couldn't ever -- have.

She couldn't tell him that, though. "It's just weird lately, Bobby. Cyclops is gone. Dr. Grey is back, maybe. The Professor blasts us all with some sort of terror mind bomb. And Logan is acting all intense and …"

"And Logan-like," Bobby finished. "I know a lot's happened, but that's no reason to act like I don't exist."

"You exist, Bobby. Believe me, I know you exist." She wanted to close the door again, curl back on her bed, and relive her fantasy one more time. But, she couldn't leave him hanging in front of her door. "You know. I should apologize for what I said to you the other night. I know you think about a lot more than one thing. You've never been anything but wonderful to me, and I'm being a bitch to you."

He ducked his head, half hiding a smile. How did he manage to make so simple a gesture sexy. "Yeah, well, I can take it."

She studied him closer. Maybe he could handle what she was carrying around with her. Maybe all she had to do was reach out, take hold of his hand, pull him inside, and really tell him what was going on.

"Bobby! You coming?" Kitty appeared at the end of the hall. "You're supposed to drive."

He looked up. "Right. Just a minute. I'm still asking Rogue."

"Asking me what?" She felt as if he'd frosted her. He wasn't here to reach out to her. It was just some group thing and he wanted her to tag along for who knew what reason.

"We're going to go rent some horror movies and have a scare-fest. We're getting burgers on the way back. I thought you might want to come."

"Horror movies?" That had to be Kitty's idea. "Don't we have enough scary real stuff going on here at the moment?"

"God, Rogue, it's just something to do." He scowled at her and then started down the hall. He paused half-way and turned before she got the door closed. "I'll get you something to eat and leave it in the kitchen. If you decide to come join us, you'll have dinner at least."

-----

The guilt was endless, a slow drowning in regret. And then, it was gone.

Scott realized he'd sunk to a fetal crouch with his back against the wall. His eyes burned, but not in the way that would hint his power had returned. He straightened his back until his skull rested against the cool wall behind him. For the first time, he hadn't had to fight his way free of despair. It had simply lifted off him.

He took a deep breath, felt his lungs fill with air. Antiseptic and pine warred in the room. He couldn't remember why he'd been crouching in agony. He'd been fighting memories, painful memories yes but nothing that should have crippled him. And then he'd lost himself. Or rather, he'd been torn away by something else, something dark and hateful.

He shook his head. The past year was a muddle. How long had it been since he felt this clearly himself? And why did he only come to that place now?

The soft whirr of Charles's chair distracted him from his thoughts. The professor was pulling away from the examining table and heading for the door. A moment later, Scott was alone with Jean, the beeping, chirping equipment, and the sound of his own harsh breathing.

He steadied himself before looking at the table where Jean lay. She still looked simply asleep. A shift to the right, a tilt of his head, however, and he could see the monster again. This time, it did not stare back or search for him. Its eyes had sunk deep in its skull. The hair-like limbs stretching out behind its body draped limply across the room, the fleshy tips piled in the corners or on equipment or disappeared into the walls. It was, Scott realized, asleep.

"It's been destroying me with grief," he whispered. "Why?"

This wasn't the time for questions. This was the moment to kill it. His joints protested as he stood, making him wonder how long he'd huddled on the floor. It could have been minutes, or hours. He lost sight of the monster as soon as he moved. He'd have to trust that his approach wouldn't wake it.

His boots made so little sound against the tile. He worried again about his strength. Cautiously, he crept along the side of the table, twisting his body in search of the angle that would let him find the creature again. In the end he had to rest his cheek against Jean's belly. All he could see was the dome of the thing's body above rising above her and the long beak arching over her.

The rise and fall of her breathing shifted his vision enough that the monster rocked in and out of sight. But, he was close enough now. He timed her breathing, easing his hand forward and upward only on her exhale, when he could see the thing.

Scott. Don't.

He froze. Her breath never changed tempo. He felt each inhalation push against his cheek. "Jean?"

Yes. Listen to me. It will kill you if you try to touch it.

"What will it do to you if I don't?"

Nothing worse than it already has done. It's hurt me all it can.

He didn't believe that, but her psychic voice sounded brittle inside his mind, as if she were on the edge of tears. He didn't want to argue. "Then tell me what to do."

Go. Get away from it. Save yourself.

"I mean how do I save you."

You can't. I'm already dead. The wail behind that thought was like a razor in his mind.

"You're not dead. Your telekinesis protected you. The professor said so. Come on, Jean, it's my turn to save you."

The wail ended on a warble of stark, humorless laughter. Scott, dying for someone isn't like playing a board game. You don't get to take turns.

He didn't know what to say to that. His mind grabbled frantically for answers. It wasn't fair. He hadn't asked her to die for him. "You didn't die for me, Jean. It was Phoenix who died and she did it for someone else. It's still my turn." Stupid, but he had nothing else.

You're wrong, love. He received the mental image of her hand stroking his face. We both chose, and it was for you.

"But, Storm found you. Logan carried you in here. The professor said you survived. He spent hours working on you. Even if I'm dead, some part of you isn't."

You aren't dead, Scott. Jean sounded absolutely certain.

"Then you can't talk to me if you are. Listen to me. You have to be alive, and if you are alive, there has to be a way to get this thing out of you."

My body is alive. Determination replaced despair in her voice now. But, my soul is gone. The Phoenix half is anyway. The Eater of Souls has devoured her. It is her now. I'm only here because we were so separate. But-- He felt her body shiver and the beep of the machines around her accelerated.

That could not be good. Scott felt certain she could only talk to him because the monster had been put into a stupor by the professor. If she woke it, they would both lose.

"Easy, Jean," he whispered, resting his hand against her lips. "Don't wake it."

No, mustn't wake it. Her voice calmed. The professor pacified Phoenix, and with her, the Eater. Charles's blocks won't last, but they give me time to explain things to you.

Explanations would be good. Knowledge was what he needed most right now. He forced himself to focus on that problem. "You're here because you and Phoenix were separate."

Yes. Separate. The Eater doesn't understand compartmentalized minds and souls. It took her and left me. But-- Another pause and he felt her calming herself. She sounded so sad. You were right. She was me. Without her, I'm not really alive. I don't want to be alive.

"Don't think about that now." Maybe she was right and Phoenix was gone, devoured. But, as long as Jean was alive, there was hope. "Tell me about the monster." Tell me enough to let me kill it.

It's a parasite. It invades at the moment before death when the soul struggles to break free of the dying body, and it traps that soul. If it can, it heals the body and the person seems to live, miraculously sometimes, but it's not the person. It's the Eater. He heard the strain the conversation was putting on her. They didn't have much time. It's wholly evil. It's only pleasure is destruction. It's only purposes are pain and the need to make more of its kind.

He glanced around the room carefully, noting the thread-thin tendrils draped everywhere. Under Jean's mental direction, he saw clearly that the ripe clusters at each tip were egg sacks. This Eater was waiting for death to come close enough to plant its young -- hundreds of young.

"There has to be a way to kill it."

Before it matured, maybe. Young it felt more vulnerable. But, it's past that now. Now, it just wants to find as many people, mutants with strong powers if possible, to kill.

Scott was suddenly very glad the school was out of session for the summer. "Jean, there has to be a way to destroy this thing. Think. How much do you know about it?"

Its parent passed all the knowledge it needed with the seeding. I know because it knows. And the only way to destroy it is to kill me.

That wasn't an acceptable answer. "I can't."

I know. I'm sorry. I didn't know any other way to save you from it on the beach.

Scott straightened then, looked down into her serene face. "What?"

I saved you. Her voice was beginning to fade, either from drugs the machines were pumping into her body or some residual effect of the hours of work the professor had done on her. It used our link to torture you, and to call you. It wants you because you can destroy so much.

He thought about the power behind his eyes and what that could do to people, cities, if he didn't care who he hurt. So much destruction.

But, it can't have you. I took you away from it.

"Jean, what did you do? What's happened to me."

I used its power, combined with Phoenix's, to fold you. You see, it's folded into spaces we can't reach, but there are spaces it can't reach too. I folded you into those. And then her voice faded to a whisper. I love you.

"Hell, Jean, you can't leave me like this. I can't even tell anyone what you've told me. I can't move anything." His mouth was dry as sand, and he realized it wasn't just fear. If he wasn't dead he'd still need to eat and drink or he would die. He didn't know how to do either in this state. A person could go just three or four days without water. When he died, everything she'd just told him would die with him.

Fold yourself back, she suggested softly. He felt her mind slipping into some dreamlike haze.

"I can't!"

That startled her mind awake once more. You can't? Oh god, of course, how could you? I have to -- Scott, I can't. I can't fold you back without waking the Eater. If I wake it, it will kill you.

Her panic caused the monitors to spike again. "Don't, Jean. Don't wake it. I'll be fine. I'll figure it all out. Trust me."

Trust you?

"Yes."

The drowsy softness returned to her mind slowly. I trust you. I love you.

"Jean?" He tried to pull her back. They'd shared a mindlink for as long as he could remember and he tried reaching through it. The connection felt so thin.

It's been using this to torture you. I won't let it do that anymore. I was so selfish. I wanted to feel you close when I was so alone. But, I can't let it hurt you.

And then, her thoughts slipped out of his mind, not just into sleep but away. She'd severed their link completely. Don't! he shouted. But, she was already gone.

He was left standing over her, his whole body trembling. He gave crushing the monster one more thought. She might be wrong. He might succeed. She might be right. He might kill her. Or himself. If he killed himself who would warn the rest of the school about the danger?

"New plan, Summers, come on."

He needed to tell someone. Get help to work on the problem. To do that, he had to get back to normal. Alright, how did he do that?

She'd folded him, whatever that meant. Apparently, there was some way to unfold. All right, he had to figure out how to do that first. Then he'd get help and they'd figure out how to kill the Eater of Souls before it could turn everyone around him into similar monsters. All without killing Jean in the process.

"Damn."