Jean and Deborah

[x-jeangrey.livejournal.com]

Backdated to last Friday, Jean and Deborah spend some quiet time together and Jean gets some things off her chest.



"I swear, the next time my grandsons frog-march me out of anywhere, let alone that hospital, I'm withholding cookies for the next three years." The words were grumpy, but Deborah sounded more weary and mildly affectionate than anything else as she moved around the kitchen, making a late lunch for her and Jean. "It's a good thing for them that you intervened or I'd have taken both of them over my knee."

"Which would have been quite a sight," Jean said, smiling faintly. "I was just worried about anyone who might stumble upon that scene accidentally. After all, there were a number of heart patients in the area. Scott and Alex might have deserved it, but the shock of seeing something like that wouldn't have been healthy, I'm sure."

"They might very well have cheered me on. Uppity boys, those two..." Deborah paused, looking around distractedly, and then located the teapot. "Scott looked tired when he came," she went on as she went over to find the tea, next. "So did you. Don't think I didn't notice that, even with everything. I suppose the school is being its usual restful self this summer?"

Jean's mouth tightened briefly, and she sighed before she answered. "Yes, I'd say that rather covers it. July was... hard. Maybe not harder than usual but..." Her voice trailed off, and all she do was offer a half shrug when Deborah turned to look at her.

Her preparations finally finished and everything on to either cook or steep, Deborah came over and sat down across from Jean, regarding her with a mixture of concern and warmth. "I worry a great deal about the three of you," she said, reaching out and taking Jean's hand, squeezing it gently for a moment. "It's very admirable, what you and Scott - and Alex now, too, of course - do. But it seems to cost a great deal, and I don't even just mean the times Phillip and I have to visit one of you in the hospital."

Jean was silent for a moment, eyes seemingly on their joined hands but her thoughts were clearly elsewhere. Eventually she looked up at Deborah and took a deep breath; she could talk to Deborah about this, talk about what she'd seen in a way she really couldn't with Scott. "There was a mission," she said. "I was actually leading the mission. We were to investigate an abandoned facility, find out what purpose it had had." Another long pause as Jean bit at her lip. "It turned out to be a medical research lab. Experimenting with mutant genetics and... and infants."

Deborah moved slightly in her chair, her expression distressed. She didn't let go of Jean's hand, however. "... it's difficult to know what to say about something like that," she said finally, sounding uncertain - and strangely old, in an indefinable way. "To experiment on people... it's bad enough. But babies?"

Jean's other arm had moved to slide around her waist, hugging herself slightly. "Our current theory is that it was a br...breeding program, but we didn't have enough of a chance to study the site."

Deborah was looking very closely at her. "Finding something like this would trouble anyone, I imagine," she said. "But I think.... it affects you a great deal, doesn't it?"

Jean nodded faintly. "I don't know," she said, sighing and leaning back in her chair without letting go of Deborah's hand. "I want to have children, and something like this... It makes me wonder if it would be right to bring a child into the world. Makes me wonder what our children would be like; they'd be mutants, there's no doubt, and to expose them to all the hate and fear. They'd be targets just for being alive. And yet, I still want..." She bit her lip, and suddenly there were tears in her eyes. "I want to hold my child in my arms. Mine and Scott's. And I don't know if I ever will."

"Oh, honey." Deborah moved to the chair next to Jean's and hugged her firmly. "Don't despair like that. I know with the lives you lead, and all that you have to take into consideration that it's tempting... but you shouldn't. There's still time."

"Scott..." Jean started, leaning into Deborah's hug. "Scott doesn't want children. He has different reasons but... after a month like last, sometimes I don't even know if it's right that I disagree."

Deborah gave a rueful sigh. "I didn't realize that Scott felt that way," she said, "but I suppose I shouldn't be so surprised."

"It's... he's complicated," Jean said, somewhat wryly as she looked up. "Our lives being what they are, the world being what it is, so often I end up feeling like I shouldn't want children, that it's not right to risk another child's life. But I do. And we just... we don't talk about it. It's there in background and most of the time we just ignore it and when we can't, when it all comes up again, we just tiptoe around the whole discussion."

Deborah leaned back in her chair, but took Jean's hand again, patting it. "And then, with your lives being what they are," she said softly, understanding in her eyes, "you wonder if by not talking, and letting it stay in the background, you may miss the chance entirely."

"And here I'm supposed to be the mind reader," Jean said, reaching up with her other hand to brush away the tears in her eyes before they could fall.

"I married a soldier myself, Jean. I remember the uncertainty. I imagine it's only worse, with both of you out there taking the risks you do."

Jean sighed, leaning her head back on the chair. "On that mission one of our teammates, our friends, was badly hurt. He's been in a coma and his daughter... Rachel is exactly what I'm talking about. She's bright and brilliant and lovely. Incredibly gifted. And now completely distraught. She put her bed through a wall the other day."

"Poor little thing," Deborah said softly. "Any child of yours... he or she would very possibly have your gifts, wouldn't they?" She smiled a little at Jean's look. "I do some reading," she said. "With all these mutants in the family. But it's another concern, isn't it?"

"Psionic mutations do seem to have a significant genetic dominance over other mutations," Jean agreed, sounding tired. "Rachel is incredibly well adjusted for a telepath but... she's decidedly the exception. Even though our children would have the same chances and training she had, it would still be incredibly hard for them. Telepathy... makes you crazy. In some very real and measurable ways."

Deborah tilted her head, regarding Jean for a long moment. "Have you ever thought of adoption?" she asked gently.

"Yes," Jean said, without hesitation. "Often. Given the number of strays Charles has picked up over the years the idea could hardly have failed to cross my mind," she added with a smile, although it vanished as she went on. "Doesn't change that Scott still doesn't want children and I would like to have his son."

"No, it wouldn't," Deborah murmured. "It would address some of the problems, but not others. Oh, Jean, I wish I had something more helpful to tell you." She patted Jean's hand again. "Other than to try and talk more to Scott about it... does he have the same concerns as you? Is that why he doesn't want children?"

"It's part of it," Jean sighed. "And he doesn't think he'd be a good father. You may have noticed," she added wryly, "but he has some issues about family."

"I think he would be a better father than he gives himself credit for," Deborah said, with a 'humph', before she turned that warm look back on Jean. "And I think you would be a quite wonderful mother."

Jean smiled at that. "So do I, on both counts. Now I just have to convince him, eventually."

"May I suggest a cattle prod? Summers men, you know..." Deborah trailed off with a little laugh. "You and I should make a deal, dear. I'll pin down my eldest grandson and talk wistfully about great-grandchildren and how they would complete my life, if you promise to use that wonderfully useful M.D. of yours to convince my idiot husband that he's not leaving the hospital to come right back to work."

Jean's smile grew into a full on grin. "It's a deal."