Log: Jean and Scott

[x-jeangrey.livejournal.com]

After a long pair of days Jean and Scott both finally decide that sleep and the comfort of each other might be in order. Neither of them is doing really well, but are shockingly not as badly off as they could be.



After the SHIELD agents had come and gone, Scott had gone down to the hangar for the rest of the day, checking over the new Blackbird meticulously to make sure it hadn't taken any damage in the previous day's manuevers. Between that and basic maintenance, he'd managed to fill up several hours, which was only a good thing at this point. All good distractions came to an end, however, and he went back up to the suite, not sure whether he was hoping Jean was there or not.

She'd spent the night sitting by the boy's body, doing her damnest not to think about much, but when the SHIELD people had come she'd stuck around just long enough to debrief the doctor who would be doing his autopsy and then made herself scarce. It wasn't that she was avoiding Scott or, really, anyone in particular. She was just trying to avoid thinking about what had happened until she had a little emotional distance to process, and other people had a tendency to force thought and discussion and the like, and Jean really wasn't in the mood. Eventually, though, she'd made her way back to their suite and, finding it empty, had decided getting at least a little sleep would help.

She was in bed. Scott hesitated in the bedroom doorway, and actually found himself contemplating the couch for a moment - before telling himself that he was an idiot. If she'd wanted him to stay out of the bedroom, she would probably be letting him know that. Hell, a locked door would do. He came in, quietly enough that she wouldn't hear him with her ears, and set about getting changed.

It was the proximity of his mental 'glow', as well as the 'Jean-focused' thoughts on the link that had her stirring, rolling towards his side of the bed, hand reaching out automatically before she'd even fully woken up. "Mmm, Scott?" she asked blearily when her hand found only pillow.

"It's just me. Sorry - go back to sleep," Scott said quietly, pulling a t-shirt over his head. There was a cat sitting on the back of one of the armchairs by the window, gazing at him with that particular narrow-eyed look that meant she was contemplating a flying leap to his pillow. He just shook his head at her, and she laid her head down on her paws, still eyeing him.

Jean barely cracked her eyes at him, till she could just make out a fuzzy, Scott-shaped figure. "You coming t'bed?" she mumbled, fingers twisting in the edge of his pillowcase.

Well, that answered that. "Yeah." Scott flipped the covers back and laid down beside her, staring up at the bedroom ceiling. "You okay?" he asked after a moment, almost unwillingly. It wasn't that he didn't want to know the answer. It was just that he wasn't sure she wanted to discuss that.

She slid an arm across his waist, hiding her head against his shoulder and breathing him in. "Are you?" she replied. Ask a silly question, get a silly answer...

"I guess." There wasn't much conviction behind the answer. There was so much he could say, but what point would there be? But there was something, he realized after a moment. "I should have sent you to the hospital. I'm sorry."

Jean's eyes closed again, a deep stillness to her which was decidedly no longer sleep. "I don't know that it would have helped," she said after a moment. "By now Fury's people will be able to say better than I, but I think either his kidney or liver was punctured. Toxins in the blood, poisoning his brain and stopping his heart. Even in an ER they might not have been fast enough." But it wouldn't have been her, then. Years since the last time she'd lost a patient...

The thought came through clearly, even if she didn't say it aloud. "I'm sorry," Scott said again, a flat, lifeless edge to the soft words. "I keep going over it in my head, but I just..." He trailed off, words failing.

Her arm tightened around him and she burrowed further into his shoulder. "Somehow," Jean said, not looking up, "I don't really think I'm the one who most needs to be taken care of just now."

Scott closed his eyes, just concentrating on her for a moment, on the feel of her arms around him. "I almost feel like I'm not... broken up enough about it," he said after a long moment, his eyes opening again. "Scares me a little. I just feel..." Cold and sad and still a little numb. Although there was anger beneath it all, he knew that much. He just didn't have a target except himself right now.

"The numbness," she said, "is shock." A pause, considering and thoughtful, but also empty, in it's own way. Much like she had been all day. "Perfectly natural."

"I should have put it in the report. What happened." He just hadn't wanted to put it down in print. Although he was sure the news would get around somehow.

The little half shrug was awkward, given their position, but Jean managed. "Give it some time. Sleep on it, seeing neither of has actually done that yet. If you think it needs to go in, or if Charles does, the report can be edited and amended. Later."

"Later," Scott agreed quietly, then kissed the top of her head. "I love you," he said, and if there was a slight wobble in his voice, it didn't matter. It was just them.

"I love you, too. Always."