Log: Scott and Jean (Backdated)

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

While spending the night in the box Jean and Scott share their reactions to the nightmares they both are working through after being trapped in the hotel.

Jean roamed the mansion hallways. It was daytime but she seemed to be the only one there. She didn't even hear the birds outside. Feeling a growing sense of unease, she went upstairs to look for her phone. But as she entered the second floor to go to her suite she wound up being in the hallway to the medlab instead. At the end of the hallway she saw Scott, his back turned.

"Hey? Where is everyone?" she said. When he didn't move she took a step closer.

"Scott?" she said.

Her calling made Scott slowly turn around. He wore his normal clothing, and his eyes pleaded with her, the letter opener from her desk clutched tightly in his hand.

"Jean....please...help me. I can't stop," he said.

Breath catching in her throat, Jean immediately rushed toward him. But it was too late, and he plunged the letter opener into both of his eyes in two quick motions, blood pouring down his cheeks. He fell to the ground and Jean screamed, a motion she mirrored in reality, echoing through the confines of the Box.

Jean's shriek cut through Scott's dreams, jolting him into wakefulness, not that it he had far to go. Ever since they'd gotten back from Washington Scott had been having trouble sleeping, every-time he closed his eyes he was back in the hotel, back in that room watching his car. Bolting upright in bed he looked down at the form of his wife lying next to him as she writhed in the throes of a nightmare. Scott could feel Jean's emotions through the psychic link, the panic and fear which were swamping her as he reached out to shake her, "Red, wake up. It's just a nightmare."

The shaking startled Jean and, with a shuddered gasp, her eyes snapped open, wildly surveying the room as she quickly sat up. She needed to get Scott to the medlab. His remaining eye probably wasn't salvageable but hopefully he hadn't punctured anything else beyond the immediate orbital cavity. If she got him to the medlab in time, maybe called one of the local trauma centers he'd-- It quickly became apparent by the overly concerned look on her husband's undamaged face and her surroundings that she had been dreaming, however. He was fine. She was in the Box. Jean's shoulders sagged and she sank back down in bed, covering her face with her hands.

"God...."

Scott let go of Jean's shoulder, the tension and alarm fading out of his body as he saw she was awake now, although he could still feel the vestiges of it lingering through the link. "That sounded like quite a dream," he noted as he turned a worried look at Jean. "Was it...remembering back there?"

Turning over, Jean rested her head on his chest and draped her arm across his stomach, as if trying to fully confirm that this, this was reality and they were safe and sound. "Sort of," she said quietly.

She hadn't written up the mission report yet. It was hard to do sometimes, reliving every single detail. She'd made notes but hadn't fully submitted anything formally. It was easy to try to pass it off, to think that it didn't affect her after all she'd seen, even if it wasn't real. But the illusion was deliberate. It was specifically designed to get a reaction. And keeping it in, treating the experience as something clinical, was not the way to go.  It had never worked well in the past. "When I was at the hotel...the demon made me think Parker was there...possessing the man we found later. He killed everyone in the hotel and made me watch. And...Lee was there too. He saved him for last. He made him...kill himself with his own pen. I tried to stop him," she said. She clutched the bed sheet tightly. "So I was dreaming about you instead. You had my letter opener. And you used it on your eyes."

Scott's eyes widened in shock as he wrapped an arm around Jean's shoulders and leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "It's over, we beat him," he assured her quietly before sighing, "although I don't think any of us walked out of there unscathed. Knowing Jean could feel his own emotional turmoil Scott took a deep breath before he continued. "I still can't get to sleep properly. Every time I close my eyes I'm back in there too. I know it was an illusion, but it felt so real at the time." Scott swallowed before he continued hesitantly, "I saw you and Logan, together."

Jean immediately turned to look at him. She shook her head.

"You're right. It wasn't real," she said with absolute certainty.  "You're the one I love. You're the one I married. No question."  She frowned.

"I'm sorry it made you see that."

"I know that, and I couldn't believe that you'd ever do that. I think that's why it hurt so much, why it's still keeping me up." Turning his head Scott caught Jean's eyes, "I love you," he told her simply. "When you vanished like that I was going out of my mind with worry, and that demon knew just what to do to play on me." He sighed, "I'm sorry I didn't believe it was you when we met in the hallway."

"And if all of you hadn't saved me I'd probably still be there," Jean said.  She had no idea. She'd been stuck in the same hallway for hours. If they hadn't arrived it could've been until she died. It was that thought that was also particularly unnerving.To be forced to relive the same thing over and over again. She rested her head back on his chest, shifting her body to look at him. Her ribs ached under the bandages with the motion but she'd taken it slow. Right now even breathing irritated them.

"It was very good with playing on our fears and our weaknesses. We made a fatter morsel that way," she said darkly, closing her eyes.

"It'd tried to send me over the edge by..." She swallowed. "By grabbing a little girl. It tried to kill her. Thankfully it was an illusion. At end, before you came, I didn't know what was real. That was the point. To deceive."

"Oh god," Scott's face drained of blood, "Jean..." There was nothing Scott could say, to have to live through that must have been worse than anything he could ever have imagined facing. "No wonder you thought I was just another illusion when we met. I couldn't tell what was real after an hour in his grasp, but 8 hours. I don't know if I'd have been able to take it."

Jean reached down, threading her fingers through his. "It was bad for everyone. You were able to see through it too, though," she said.

"I'm glad you didn't have to be there for 8 hours either. It's not a contest."

"I know," Scott replied softly, "I just...I'm getting tired of bad stuff always happening to us. It kinda feels like if we leave the mansion then something bad is going to happen." he admitted, squeezing Jean's hand, "I just really hate feeling so helpless."

"But we're here. We won. And we're alive. A little worse for wear but..." Jean said with a faint smile. A smile that lingered for a few moments before fading into a more contemplative look. "I don't think the world is made up of all bad things. There are good things, good people there too. And I think we seem to run into the bad things the most because we put ourselves there. Are we masochists? Maybe, a little. But we do it because we hope for a better world. The things we do are a candle in the darkness. The darkness seems insurmountable because it feels like there's so much of it." Her smile returned. "We just need more candles."

"We're alive," Scott agreed, when Jean put it like that it did put everything into perspective, and he had to admit made him feel a lot better. "Some more candles would be nice, although if someone decided to set off a larger bonfire or something I wouldn't complain." He smiled and squeezed Jean's shoulders gently, "Thanks."

Jean kissed him on the lips, smiling softly. "You're welcome," she said, then put head back down against his chest. Her smile widened as she stroked his stomach, feeling the indentations of each ab.

"When we get a bonfire I'll bring the marshmallows."

"I guess that leaves me with bringing the beer then," Scott noted with a smile as he wriggled his back to force the pillows behind him into a more comfortable position.

"Sounds like a proper gathering," Jean mused, leaning in to kiss him on the lips before she settled down and attempted to try to get back to sleep.