Shadow King: Time After Time

[x-jeangrey.livejournal.com]

Scott convinces himself to check in on his wife.



The medical facility here was out of the world. All bright and shiny and like hell this place was a school to have stuff like this in the basement. Jeannie sat curled up on the bed in the room the doctor had shown her, arms which were too long wrapped around legs which were worse. And as long as she focused on the room and the strange Russian doctor and the green haired lady, she didn't have to think about how nothing was right and they all looked at her like she was the wrong one. Tilting her head down to let her hair fall across her face, Jeannie tried desperately not to cry.

Scott paused at the door, swallowing and trying very hard to get his expression under control. She didn't need to be scared any more than she already was - and she was scared, he could feel that much. It was surprisingly less difficult, having acknowledged that, to put on a more gentle expression as he came forward into the room.

"Hi, Jean."

Jeannie stiffened momentarily, glancing up through her hair, trying to figure out who this new person was. Some old guy - he looked tense, and maybe sad, but it was hard to tell. "You know me, too, then?" she asked, lifting her head enough for her hair to fall away from her eyes but not moving from where she was huddled on the bed.

"... yeah," Scott said quietly, then gave her a slightly weak smile. "Don't... worry about it, though. I figured things are confusing enough without people hitting you with all kinds of information that doesn't make any sense."

She turned away for a second, biting her lip to keep it from quivering. Somehow, the consideration was actually harder to take that the pure strangeness. "So, who are you then? You work at the school here?" she asked when she could be sure her voice wouldn't break.

"I'm Scott. I'm the headmaster here." He sat down in the chair beside the bed, tried not to look as tense as he was. "I... I know this has got to be confusing, but it's going to be all right. I promise. We're all here to help... get this sorted out."

The look Jean gave him was part disbelief and part horror. "Get real. I can't call you 'Scott'. You're, like, my dad's age... Oh, my God. I don't have to, like, have class with you, right? I mean, there's gotta be an upside to all this. Please, please tell me I don't gotta go to class? Like this? I'm a freak."

This was rather incredibly surreal. Then again, his wife had also been possessed by her dark side in the not-too-distant past, so maybe this was par for the course. Bursting out in hysterical laughter is not appropriate, Scott. "You don't have to go to class," he soothed. "I swear."

"Thank God." With a sigh, Jeannie let go of her legs and flopped back on the bed, hand thrown up over her eyes in a move which would have looked totally natural, had she actually been the awkward adolescent she thought she was. As it was, it looked even more melodramatic than normal. "Seriously, I don't think I can take any more weirdness. I'm way freaked out. Does this kinda stuff happen around here a lot? Like, eleven year olds suddenly turn into, like, grandmothers?"

"Jean," Scott said, very softly and patiently, "that's not what happened. You are as old as you look. You just don't remember it."

"I can't be..." There was more than a touch of hysteria in her voice and she didn't move her arm from across her face. "I haven't... I haven't gotten to do anything. I was gonna start middle school next fall and all my friends, where'd they go? I can't be old."

"Jean, you just don't remember." The strained, sad smile he gave her was almost involuntary. "You've done more than most people would in two lifetimes. We just have to figure out what happened, and help you remember..."

"What? What have I done?" she asked, practically threw the question at him as she shoved herself up into a sitting position again, green eyes bright with suppressed tears. "You're telling me I've missed eighteen years of my life but it's ok, cause I've 'done stuff'? What, what have I ever done, besides being an awkward little... geek."

"You've been a teacher, and a doctor," Scott replied, just as calmly. "For a start."

"How can I be a doctor. A teacher. I'm just a kid..." Jeannie clung to that, clung to what she knew of the world, all evidence to the contrary be damned.

"I know it's got to be just about impossible to imagine that it can be true," Scott said softly, "but what's more likely - that you are the age you look, and just don't remember the years in between, or that something made you look older?"

That did it. Her chin wobbled and the tears spilled over. "I want my mom..." she said, sniffling.

Scott actually jolted in his chair at that. It was not precisely something he'd ever expected to hear from Jean. "I can- I can call her," he said, stumbling over the words. "If you want? She's not far away. She could drive up here easily..."

Reaching up, she wiped her nose on her arm, sniffing again, then nodded. "I want my mom," she said again, barely keeping it from being a whine. Pulling her legs back up she wrapped her arms around them again. "I don't want to be here. I want to go home."

There was definitely something in the fact that when she went crazy, she wanted away from him as soon as possible. Definitely something there. Scott smiled, though, the sort of encouraging smile that he might have used with one of the younger kids who was upset, and rose. "Then I'll go call her and tell her you need her, all right? And I'll tell Moira to keep an ear out for you, so that you don't have to deal with Doctor Voght."

"Thank you," Jeannie said, sniffling again. "Thank you... Scott."

"Hey, it's what I'm here for." Scott's voice was almost light. He definitely had to ask Moira to spend a little time with her. Amelia didn't quite have the demeanor for a situation like this. "Try and rest, all right?" he said, pausing at the door. "You'll feel better if you get some rest. You've been through a lot."



Scott gets to make a phone call.



How the hell was he going to do this? Scott stared at the phone like it was Magneto, the Preservers, and the Grand Poo-Bah of the FoH all wrapped up into one. Hello, Elaine. Something's happened to Jean. Right, nice and basic. She thinks she's eleven years old. It's a new kind of crazy. Oh, yes, that would go over well.

What exactly happened? Well, someone attacked her... no, we don't know who... Maybe he'd get John instead. Scott snatched the phone up at that thought, and dialed.

Scott's luck, however, was not of the strong that day, and the voice that sounded on the other end of the line was distinctly not-John. "Hello?"

Oh, hell. I am not afraid of my mother-in-law, I am not afraid of my mother-in-law... I'm just afraid of her reaction. "It's Scott, Elaine," he said, somewhat more guardedly than he'd intended.

"Oh Scott, hello," the woman said, her voice warming a little, though it was clear she was a bit confused why Scott was calling, and not her daughter. "What a nice surprise. How are you?"

"I'm... there's a problem with Jean," Scott said, and cursed himself for the wording. "She's not hurt," he said before Elaine could respond - and immediately wondered how true that actually was. "But she and Charles and some of the other telepaths... had a psionic therapy session go badly."

"A what?" Suddenly Elaine's voice wasn't so warm. "What happened? How is she? She's not... nothing happened to her, did it?"

Scott bit his lip, hard. "She's not hurt," he said - repeated, rather. "She's not in any immediate danger." Oh, how he only wished that were true. "It's like... well, her mind is in shock, for lack of a better description. And she's..." He had to say it. He couldn't dance around the subject. "She's under the impression that she's eleven. Before she manifested. Moira's best guess is that she's retreated to a mindset where she feels safe."

There was a long pause as Elaine processed this information; the line was completely silent. "She thinks she's eleven," she said finally, sounding as if she was trying very hard not to raise her voice or call Scott any number of choice names she had thought up during that long silence. "Because of an accident. Is there any indication when she might stop thinking that?"

"... no. We're doing what we can, but Charles is unconscious, and he's usually the one who helps fix these types of situations." Bad phrasing. Very bad phrasing. Scott went on hurriedly before Elaine could respond. "The thing is, Elaine, she's asking for you. She's confused - she doesn't recognize me, doesn't know why she looks the way she does in the mirror."

"Me? She's asking for me?"

"She's scared, Elaine. For her, she never manifested, never went through all of that... of course she's asking for you."

"Oh." Scott heard Elaine draw in a deep breath, and when she spoke again, her tone was brisk. "Right, then. I'll be out there as soon as I can. Tell Jeannie I'm coming. I don't want her worrying any more than she already has. All right?"

"I'll go do that right now," Scott said, slumping inwardly with relief. "It'll help her to know you're on your way."

"I hope so." The censure might've been unspoken, but it was still clear as day. "Thank you for calling me, Scott. I'll see you soon."

The phone clicked, and Scott paused, then set it back in its cradle. Then let his head fall forward to the desk with an audible thunk. A strained sort of laugh escaped him. "Psychic disaster, catatonic and crazy telepaths... and now Elaine is coming." And he was talking to himself. But really, the week couldn't possibly get any worse.

... he hoped.