Sleepy Jean and Scott

[x-jeangrey.livejournal.com]

After finishing all the work that can be done tonight, Jean heads upstairs in an exhausted haze to collapse against Scott, who very nicely puts his issues on hold long enough for her to pass out.



Jean tapped on the door to Scott and Sean's suite, managing to send a light touch down the link as well, although it was hard when she was so tired. "Know you're in there," she said to herself, leaning against the wall because standing up took too much energy.

Scott was sitting on the couch - or sprawled somewhat diagonally on it, if one were to be precise. He'd sensed Jean approaching, but at a distance, his mind being very much elsewhere. "Come on in," he said, then focused on her as she came through the door. "Sean's... well, I'm not sure where Sean is, actually."

"Ok," Jean said, shrugging. "Shockingly enough, wasn't looking for him. Oh, couch. Couch is good. Budge over a bit?" She didn't wait for him to make more space, though, before collapsing onto it.

"How is she?" Scott asked. Not looking at Jean.

She lay her head back against the couch, shutting her eyes and sighing. "Not well, but better than she could be. Willing to let us try to help. And very, very stressed."

Scott stared down at his hands. It was willpower alone that let him keep his thoughts steady, even. Jean had enough of a headache. She didn't need him adding to it. "How are you?" he asked more quietly. Nothing to be done for Paige. Not by him. Cope. That simple.

"Also stressed. Manuel came downstairs, wanting to help. Was less than happy that I wouldn't let him, but he didn't press the point, which is good." As soon as she could bring herself to open her eyes she would... Figuring out what she would do took too much energy. More than she could spare if she wanted to open her eyes again.

Scott looked at her and then got up. "Come on," he said, reaching out both hands to her. She took them, and he pulled her to her feet. "Bed is better than couch." Make sure Jean rested. That much was simple, and within his power. Those were the only things you could do sometimes. The simple, easy things.

"Bed requires moving," she argued but, being already on her feet, was willing to follow him. Especially since he'd done the work of getting up off the couch.

"Want a shirt?" he asked as they moved into the bedroom and he closed the door behind them. "I mean, not that you haven't already stolen three or four, by the looks of it... you move fast, you know."

"Your shirts smell nice," she told him. "Safe." She sat on the edge of the bed, managing not to collapse backwards onto it, quite sure she wouldn't move once she went horizontal. "So, um... yes."

Scott rummaged briefly for one and then tossed it in her direction before he himself got changed. "It's too cold in here," he muttered, pulling a t-shirt over his head before he went over to check the thermostat, frowning at it. "Or not," he sighed, coming back to the bed.

Zippers and buttons were problematic, but they were dealt with, albeit slowly. Part of her mind was still downstairs with her patient. "Are you cold?" she asked idly, noticing the inhibitor was still clamped around her wrist. "It's warmer up here..." Maybe she should turn it up. It would be a bad idea to share her nightmares with anyone tonight...

"Freezing," he said, catching her glance at the inhibitor. "I wonder if I'm getting sunlight-deficient again. Entirely possible, I suppose." He twitched the blankets aside so that she could get in, once she'd changed. As she nestled down against him, he wrapped his arms around her. Clinging perhaps a little more tightly than was really warranted.

Jean pressed against him, perfectly happy to be clung to. Yes, as she'd expected, horizontal was very good. Horizontal with Scott was better yet. "That's not good," she told him, her voice sounding distant even to herself. "Should go out more..."

"Go to sleep," he said softly, raising one hand to stroke her hair for a moment. "Time enough to go back to work in the morning."

"Mmmm," she agreed, clearly not fully conscious although not quite unconscious. "Still working. Jus' a li'l break..."

"Sure. Just a little one," Scott murmured, holding her close as she drifted off. Even as her breathing slowed down to the deep, regular rhythm of sleep, he laid there wide-awake, staring up through the darkness at the bedroom ceiling.