Scott and Jean, Wednesday evening

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Scott finds Jean in their suite, after the events of the afternoon. She's not doing very well.


Scott opened the door of the suite, swallowing as he saw Jean sitting in the armchair by the window, her eyes fixed on the view of the grounds through the glass but her posture rigid enough to suggest that she was not, in fact, relaxing after the latest crisis to hit the medlab.

He came over slowly, crouching down in front of her chair and taking her hands, looking up at her. "Hey," he said softly.

Her hands weren't actually shaking. that was good, right? Jean clung to his hands, not sure she could speak.

Scott raised her hands to his lips, kissing both of them lightly. "It's okay," he said, keeping his voice low, soothing. "You're all right. It's done." Remy was alive, and none of the people Amanda had drawn on for energy were seriously hurt. Not that it excused it. Not for an instant.

No, collapsing was not an option. "Not all right," Jean managed. "Very not all right."

Scott got up. "Come on," he said gently, managing to coax her to her feet and get her moving in the direction of the bedroom. "The bed's better than the armchair. We won't both fit in the armchair."

Jean was perfectly willing to be taken to bed. She tried a few times to say something but it wouldn't come out. She was still too angry, and too scared.

It hurt to see her this shaken. Literally hurt, but Scott kept murmuring soothing nothings to her until she was safely on the bed. Scott laid down next to her, pulling her gently but firmly into his arms. "You're okay," he whispered, stroking her hair. "You're okay. Just relax... it's done."

Jean didn't need much encouragement to curl into his arms, all but clinging to him. Lying down was good, because she was still having ocasional dizzy spells. #So angry at her,# she managed to send, not trusting her voice. #It felt... it felt like she was trying to...# But she couldn't even articulate the thought.

"Shhh." If he let himself share the anger... well, that would be bad, right now. "I know. I felt it." It had rocked him, even at a distance and down the link.

Jean buried her face in his shoulder, breathing deeply and trying desperately not to cry.

"It's okay," he repeated again, his arms tightening around her. "I love you, it's all right, I'm here..." He focused on sending the same message down the link, wordless support.

Safe. She was safe. Scott was here and she was safe and no one was going to take her away from him. Not if they knew what was good for them.

Charles? Scott thought worriedly. She was scaring him. Almost as soon as he formed the thought, he felt the familiar presence touching his mind in reassurance and he waited, hopefully and anxiously at the same time, to see how Jean reacted.

Jean felt Charles reach out to her, calming thoughts wrapping around her. The anger didn't leave, but it was more manageable and the fear it masked surfaced only to be soothed by the physical and mental presences that held her close. Slowly the tension drained out of her.

Scott held her, trying to think of what he could... oh, that was an idea. Closing his eyes, he focused on recreating the memory of Phillip and Deborah's porch, sitting there and admiring the view. The fresh, cool mountain air, the vivid sky...

Jean didn't feel terribly patient, but she knew he wouldn't mind as she reached out and completed the illusion in his mind and following him into it.

Sitting on the porch in his memory, Jean leaned against his shoulder. "It's not exactly running away."

"I would say it isn't at all," Scott said, part of him startled by just how real it all felt. He had always known what a strong telepath she was, but this was more complete a mindscape than she'd managed in... well, certainly since she'd come back. "Reality sucks at the moment. So we're making another."

An idle thought that it was only not running away if she was willing to go back. "Not about to argue that reality doesn't suck."

"I just wish I could take you back here for real," Scott whispered. But wishful thinking never got anyone anywhere.

"Sometime," Jean said softly as the sky began to take on the brilliant colors of a remembered sunset. "It has to ease off sometime."