A/N: I know I said this was going to be the last chapter but... well, it isn't. You'll have to bear with me, Cyke, Jean, and Nate until chapter 11. Sorry.
Please read and review. Let me know if this story sucks, if my writing is terrible, if this plot is getting too damn mushy, or if you happen to enjoy anything about it.
Chapter 10.
"There were times I was lost, and you found me.
There were days which were heavy, and you lightened my heart.
Through it all, since the day when we met, there was you for me and me for you.
That hasn't changed. That will never change.
Times have been good, and times have been bad, and still, our love has endured and triumphed."
"Thanks for coming on such a short notice, Emma," Cyclops said, glancing up at the woman standing in front of his desk. Scott hadn't thought it was possible, but her new costume showed even more skin than the previous one.
"Anytime, darling," the White Queen smiled sultrily, crossing her legs as she occupied the chair opposite his. Satisfied, she realized he had noticed her outfit. Oh well… what conscious man wouldn't?
Nonetheless, Scott stared at her with an all-business face. "Jean and I are taking some time off the X-Men to stay with Nathan for a while – three to four weeks, at most. Beast will lead the team in my absence. We'd like you to fill the position of school's headmistress in the meantime."
So that was the reason behind that meeting. Emma's hands gripped the armrests for less than a second, and yet her face betrayed nothing but indifference. "Straight to the point, huh, Cyclops? And here I was, hoping you might have smarted up after our last mission."
He blinked behind red glasses. "W-What?"
The White Queen sighed condescendingly. "Honestly, Scott… I know Jean's your wife -and God only knows why-, but how can you forgive her after what she did in New Mexico? She lied to you and acted absolutely cocky regarding Creed, risking not only the success of the mission but her teammates' safety as well!"
"Emma, that's not-"
The blonde stood up and placed her two palms on the desk defiantly. "Listen to me, Scott! Jean disobeyed a direct order, forcing you to leave your team behind so you could rescue her like the knight in shining armor you push yourself to be whenever she's around! Even without the Phoenix's force, she's become a liability to the X-Men – in case you haven't heard, the whole mansion shook while she played 'slaughter the husband' in the Danger Room a few nights ago. And yet, you insist on behaving like everything can go back to status quo; like Jean's sane enough to run a mutant school and remain in the team, not to mention-"
Cyclops shot up from his chair, his fists banging against the desk's surface. "What, Emma? Not to mention what?" he dared her to say it.
The words 'to stay married to you' almost left the blonde's throat, but she knew better than to enrage her team leader. He already had a wife who constantly infuriated him; he wouldn't want his lover doing the same.
So the White Queen folded her arms under her breasts and looked sideways, unable to sustain his glare even behind quartz-lens. "You can't save what's dead, darling," she stated finally.
"I'm not asking for your professional advice this time, Emma," Cyclops retorted, emphasizing the adjective. "I've made that mistake once and things only got messier. It won't happen again."
The woman scoffed, offended. Not only was he putting a closure to whatever psychic adventure they'd had, he was also doubting her expertise as a sex therapist. "Fine, Scott! Go back to your pathetic marriage with your lunatic wife if that's what you want – I couldn't care less! Just know one thing, darling… I won't be waiting around with open arms until you decide to straighten up your head and realize what a mess you made!"
"I wouldn't expect you to," he replied, finally relaxing his posture and sitting back on his chair. He smiled inwardly. Wasn't that exactly what Jean had done for him? Hadn't she waited until he got his shit together?
In the end, there had never really been a choice to make – it had always been her. Jean, his redhaired spitfire wife; his loyal teammate and best friend; the best mom his son could ever have. What a moron he had been since Apocalypse!
Disgusted at his thoughts, Emma decided she'd peeked enough and sat down again. "Oh well, fine. I'll be honorary headmistress if that's what is best for the School, Scott. Just don't expect me to wipe off teenagers' tears or listen to their complaints about the opposite sex and homework. I have more important things to do than pretending to be Jean Grey until the real one recovers."
"I'm sure you have… and despite your objections, I know that Xavier's School will be in good hands while we're gone. Plus, it's summer vacations; that means no homework."
"But more heartache shenanigans… Lord help me," the White Queen grumbled.
Cyclops smirked. Emma wasn't bad. She was just… well, Emma.
"Listen, there's one more thing I'd like to discuss with you," the field leader added, serious again.
"Then say it, darling."
"I mean no offense, Emma, but you need to improve your mind-blocks. Sinister found out about Nathan being in this timeline through Malice, who learned it from you."
The blonde raised a perfect eyebrow. "Are you sure?"
"I am."
She wasn't, however, and she didn't like being accused of negligence. "Is that your opinion, or Jean's?"
"It's a fact, not an opinion. Essex reported it in his files."
"I see." Emma contemplated the information for a moment. She was an X-Man, and as such, she had responsibilities to the team. "Then I shall begin to reinforce my blocks today, Cyclops," she stated lastly and stood up. "I'm sorry for putting your son's life at risk. It won't happen again."
"Nathan's fine, there's no need to apologize," he stood up and offered her a friendly smile. "But thank you for being so understanding."
"Sure, darling," she nodded and headed to the door.
Scott slouched back into his chair and let out a breath in relief. It felt good to turn that page. Now he could finally focus on what mattered.
"Ya sure ya don't need help with these?"
"Yes, Logan," Jean replied as she telekinetically grabbed two roller bags from the wardrobe's upper shelf. "Hank said I'm not allowed to physical effort. This is psychic effort."
Wolverine leant against his friend's door frame and crossed his arms over his chest, watching her suspiciously. "Furball also said he's never seen anyone recover so quickly from a hemothorax, Red. Now, ya wouldn't happen to have used tk to rush the pleural drainage, wouldja?"
The two bags landed side by side on the bed, their zippers opening simultaneously. Jean looked at Logan and shrugged her shoulders, immediately regretting the motion as it made her chest hurt. "How's that different from using a healing factor to get better?"
"It's totally different, Jean!" the feral yelled and shook his head disapprovingly. "Shit, Red. Can't ya give yourself a break? Creed almost killed ya not four days ago."
"I need to see Nate, Logan," she explained matter-of-factly while telekinetically transferring folded clothes into hers and Scott's luggage.
"No. Ya wanna see him. That's different from needin' it."
"Logan, I already have a husband to scold me for my reckless behaviors; I don't need my friends doing the same."
"Humph," he grunted in response. "And how's that husband of yours treatin' ya lately?"
"Like I'm a china doll that might break any minute," the redhead replied. "It's innerving."
"Good. It means he cares for ya, Jeannie."
She smiled. "I know."
Wolverine sniffed the air. Jean didn't smell sad anymore, and he realized he felt happy for her and one-eye. He walked the few steps separating them and placed a peck on her cheek. "Take care, Red, and try to enjoy your vacation. The X-Men and the School will be here when ya guys come back."
"Thanks, Logan."
"Sure. Me and furball will take care of things."
"No, I mean… thank you… for everything. Thank you for always looking after me. And thank you… for that night in the woods. I-I wasn't… I wasn't in my right mind."
Wolverine nodded. "I know, darling. Don't worry 'bout it."
Jean nodded back and watched him leaving. By the time Wolverine reached the boathouse's newly rebuilt porch, Cyclops was on his way in.
"Logan. Is everything alright with Jean?"
The feral contemplated telling Summers the reason behind the redhead's rapid recover but chose not to. It was not new to Scott that his wife was as stubborn as a mule; plus, after everything they had gone through, the couple could do without another argument.
"Red's fine. Ya take care of her and the kid, Cyke," Logan patted on his team leader's back and marched away.
Surprised, Scott eyed Wolverine for a moment, then decided to go look for his wife. He found her in their bathroom gathering the last items they would need for the trip.
"You've already packed all our stuff? Jean, I told you I would do it!"
"And I told you I could do it myself, honey," she stood on her tiptoes to peck his lips. "Besides, you were busy. How did it go with Emma?"
"She accepted to be honorary headmistress. Haven't you eavesdropped our conversation?"
The telepath raised an inquisitive brow at her husband. "Should I?"
"N-No, of course, not. But I wouldn't have minded."
Green eyes found bright red ones behind thick lens. "I trust you, Scott."
Hearing those three words meant the world to him. "And I trust you, Jean," he told her, carefully encircling her waist with his arms and bringing her closer.
"So why do I sense jealousy coming from you just now?"
"Well… Because Logan was here, and even though I trust you and know that you are just friends, there are some emotions I'm not entirely able to control. Yet." He brushed his lips over hers. "Are you mad?"
She pulled momentarily away to look at his face. "Not at all, love… as long as you talk to me. But you don't need to be jealous, Scott… you're in my head again. You know where my heart lies."
"I do." He kissed her again, this time deeper. She indulged him for a few seconds until they were both a bit breathless.
"Now come on, Red… We've got a supersonic jet to catch."
Three hours later, Cyclops was landing the Blackbird on a green plane surrounding Worthington's mountain chateau in the Rocky Mountains. Jean waited impatiently for the hatch to open and became mildly annoyed that only Warren had come to greet them.
"You had us worried, Jeannie," the blonde hugged her carefully.
"Sorry, Warr. Where's Nate?"
"In the pool with Bobby," Archangel answered, entering the jet to help with the bags.
Jean used telekinesis to sprint toward the house and immediately heard her husband shouting in her head.
'Honey, calm down!'
'I'm not really running, Scott. Don't worry.'
"Jesus, woman," Cyclops muttered under his breath.
Warren smirked at his frustrated face. "Welcome to my humble abode, pal."
"Thanks, buddy, but there's nothing humble about this place. Did Nathan behave?"
"Much better than I expected him to, considering we're talking about Cable," Archangel sneered.
Cyclops chuckled, then all of a sudden remembered something and used the psychic rapport to speak to his wife again. 'Jean, don't let Nate embrace you or he might inadvertently hurt you. And don't let him see the bruises!'
'No bikini, then, huh? Damn!' she smiled in his head. 'Don't worry, hon, I'm wearing a turtleneck.'
Scott sighed, earning another laugh from his friend as they walked to the cabin.
"How's Jeannie doing?"
"Better, thank God. Hank was able to remove the chest drain two days ago, but he only agreed to dismiss her from the infirmary this morning. She hasn't stayed put since, even though she's still in pain."
"Well, that's Jean Grey for you, mister."
Cyclops grinned. "I guess."
They stopped outside the cabin's door. Warren placed a hand on his friend's shoulder and said, "Be happy that you have her, Scott. Cherish every moment you get with your wife and kid because you don't know when or if you'll ever see them again. Especially in our line of work."
"You miss Betsy a lot, don't you?"
"Every single day," Archangel responded, his face turning somber for a split second. "But enough with my troubles. It's time to take care of your marriage, pal. Let's go inside before Drake decides to freeze the swimming pool."
Nate squealed in joy when he spotted Redd standing on the concrete deck. Jean prepared herself for the impact of his small body against hers by surrounding her chest with a tk cushioning; the boy was so excited to see her again that he didn't even notice it. Soon it was Slym's turn to receive a wet bear hug.
"Look, Slym, this place has a swimming pool – that's what Bobby's been calling it, at least," Nathan told his father.
"Since when can you swim, Nate?"
The boy seemed worried for a moment, afraid he'd get in trouble. But Iceman quickly came for his rescue.
"That's what the life jacket's for, Slym!" Bobby screamed from the middle of the pool.
"Oh yeah?" Scott looked at his son, who nodded in return. 'Honey, any chance you packed my old swimming glasses?' he queried across the rapport.
'You bet I packed them.'
'You're the best,' he sent to her, then turned to Nate again. "Maybe it's time I taught you how to swim, kid. How about that?"
"It'd be so cool!"
They spent the rest of the day enjoying themselves by the pool. Worthington roasted burgers on the barbecue, and every three to four hours Jean would surreptitiously gulp down a painkiller. Her wounds hurt more than she'd like to admit, but she wouldn't complain – they had stopped Sinister's menace, and she was alive and with her family. That's what mattered.
It was night already when Iceman and Archangel decided to return to Westchester. Before leaving, Worthington handed the chateau keys to Scott and gave strict orders for him to enjoy his staying. The pair flew away on the Blackbird, leaving the Daysprings with the smaller jet that had taken Warren, Bobby, and Nathan to the Rocky Mountains a few days before.
Nate was fast asleep in the smaller guest room by the time Jean finished showering and left her bedroom's ensuite with a towel wrapped around her body. Cyclops was sitting on the queen-sized bed, waiting for her with packages of gauze and a bottle of antiseptic lotion.
"Last time you treated one of my wounds, the kitchen table paid the price," she teased him.
"Funny, I thought my A.I. copies had paid the price."
"Well, they too," the woman grinned, glad that they were able to joke about that awful night. "I can telekinetically dress the wounds, Scott."
"I know you can, but you don't have to," he said and stood up to guide her to a sitting position on the bed. The small cuts and bruises on her neck looked better, Scott noticed. Then he peeled off her towel and flinched at the sight of her chest. "Jesus, honey. You can't be comfortable with these."
"The ones on the back hurt more," she let him know.
He moved behind her on the mattress and mentally cursed Sabretooth as he examined the four claw marks surrounded by ugly bruises that tainted her fair skin. He hadn't seen her naked since the day of the mission and hadn't expected those wounds to look so bad still. If only he could slay Creed again…
"Hey, we don't need Nur right now, honey," Jean warned him after having sensed his distress.
Cyclops blinked. "Of course. I'm sorry."
"It's okay."
He concentrated on treating her wounds instead of killing Sabretooth, and Jean tried not to grimace much during it. When Scott was finished, he asked.
"Need some pills?"
"Yeah."
The woman swallowed the painkillers, then dressed in one of her husband's large t-shirts and laid on the bed. Cyclops laid behind her and kissed her hair. Soon, he sensed her mind relaxing, meaning that she was asleep.
Scott realized that was the first night they slept together willingly in a long time. Content, he placed one hand on the redhead's hip and murmured in her ear.
"I love you, Jean, and not even death can do us part."