Jean and Terry have a talk

[x-jeangrey.livejournal.com]

When Jean finally makes it back to the Mansion, Terry is loitering about her rooms wanting to talk



Jean was practically blue with cold by the time she returned to the mansion - she'd wanted as much space between her and Betsy as possible, and had wandered off the school grounds and out of Ororo's weather pattern back into real winter. Which, at least, had had the salutary effect of cooling her temper. But, since she hadn't been wearing a coat when she left, she was freezing now. Coming back inside she headed straight for her suite, wanting a sweater and some coffee and not particularly wanting to talk to anyone.

Terry wasn't hanging around Jean's suite, hoping to run into her.  The fact that every errand she had run today had needed her to take the path past Jean's door was just coincidence.  She still didn't know how she felt about Jean being back, let alone fighting with Betsy, so of course she wasn't there to run into her.

Terry was a terrible liar.  Not even she believed her. It was galling to admit but there it was.  The sound of footsteps brought Terry out of her daydream and she pushed herself off the wall. Getting a good look at the woman walking toward her, she swallowed hard and wondered about the better part of valour. "Dr. Grey?"

Jean looked up, startled, but the smile that bloomed across her face was real. "Terry, hello. It's good to see you." She opened the door to her rooms, still desperately in need of coffee, but gestured for Terry to follow her. "Come in, come in. Please excuse me while I get something hot to drink. Turns out it is actually still March off the school grounds."

Terry followed, dragging her feet like a child being called for a scolding. Now that she was here, she didn't know what to say.  "How are you doing?" she asked, standing just inside the suite.  "Overall, I mean, not just…since you came back."

"That's... a really hard question," Jean admitted, moving into the kitchen to turn on her coffee maker. "Before I came back doesn't really seem to matter, now that I am back." Her mind flashed to an image of Thomas, but she shook it away with some difficulty.

"Course it matters," Terry protested.  She wanted to know what had happened to Jean.  She'd died to save them all.  "It happened, didn't it?  If it happened, it's got to matter.  It changes things."

"Does it?" Jean asked quietly. Aside from her powers, she didn't -feel- any different than before she... left. But everything else had changed around her, or rather, without her. "Of course, you're right." She turned and noticed Terry was still hovering near the door. "You can come in, you know. Take a seat. Can I get you some juice or cookies?"

"Water if you have it.  No cookies, thanks."  Terry sat gingerly on the couch, watching Jean with avid eyes, reassuring herself that this was really her old teacher.  She was just like Terry remembered her and that made Terry nervous.  "You looked upset when you came up here."

"Of course," Jean said, getting down a glass and filling it for the girl. She considered the implied question as she brought it over to Terry. "Yes," she said slowly. "I... I had a rather, mmm, unsettling conversation earlier. For all that you asked about the overall and not just since I got back," a faint smile tugged at her lips, "I must tell you that the return has been most on my mind. It's been... confusing. Much seems to have changed and I'm just trying to keep up."

Terry took the glass but didn't drink, just held it in both hands. "It's been two years." She shrugged, not unsympathetically, "It would be odder if things hadn't changed.  I think Yana wins for most changed though.  Have you seen her?"

"Illyana? No, I haven't. How has our little snowflake changed?" She smiled, unable to think of anything that could happen to the sweet little girl even in two years. Although she'd be nine now. Two whole years of her life that Jean had missed.

Terry shook her head. "Wow, um, well…I guess I shouldn't have brought it up but…she's my age now.  Maybe a little older.  Very long story." Good thinking, Cassidy.  Very bright. "She still shares a room with Kitty.  I'm with Clarice…the purple girl?  Don't know if you've met her but she's pretty easy to spot."

Jean blinked, not sure at first what Terry was saying. She understood the words, but didn't understand the meaning behind it. "What do you mean she's your age? She's... She's nine."

Darn, unsubtle attempt to change the subject had failed.  "There was a…" Terry stopped and tried to find a good way to say that Illyana had been kidnapped by a demon, dragged to another dimension, held there for 8 years, learned magic and came back bitter and disillusioned all in under five minutes.  "thing.  She grew up."

Jean sank into a chair, restraining the impulse to shake the girl and demand to know what had happened to the sweet and innocent little child she remembered. That wouldn't be fair to Terry - she was just a child herself. "I... I understand," she said, although she didn't, not at all. "Don't worry, Terry, I'll talk to Hank or Charles about it." The coffee machine pinged then, giving her something else to focus on as she went to pour herself a mug.

Terry shifted uncomfortably.  She didn't want Hank or Charles telling Jean about it.  Yana was her friend and deserved to have a chance to decide who knew what about her.  "It's a long story, like I said.  And it's hard to explain.  Like the time half the school got sucked into Asgard."

Jean's eyebrows rose. "I really have missed so much, haven't I?" she asked sadly.

Terry nodded. "It's been a really busy two years," she said softly. "We missed you.  I missed you." She stared down into her water, not wanting Jean to see her get teary eyed.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't here for you, Terry. For all of you. That I missed so much." She might not be able to see the tears, but Jean could tell. Especially since she was fighting off tears herself.

Terry sniffled and looked up.  "Can I… Can I have a hug?" she asked in a small voice.

"Absolutely," Jean said, and was across the room before she knew it, kneeling by her chair and wrapping her up in a tight hug. A few tears slipped out of her closed eyes to fall unheeded down her cheeks.

Terry clung back to Jean, holding on like it was the only way to prove that she was really real.  "I'm sorry.  Yeh saved us and we couldn't do anything.  Yeh came after us and got us out and then yeh were gone." Terry's accent was rolling and rich as it always when she was emotional.

"Oh, sweetie, no," Jean's voice was equally choked up. "None of that. There wasn't anything anyone could do. I knew it then and I know it now."

"I was so scared.  I didn't know what was happening and then when the plane wouldn't start, I thought we were going to die and I prayed that something would save us but I didn't mean for it to be yeh."

Jean leaned back, lifting a hand to smooth Terry's hair back. "Sweetie, don't ever think you did anything wrong, or that it was your fault or anything. I'm sorry I had to leave you and that I missed so much of your life, but I don't regret for one second doing it, and if I could save you again I would, no matter what the cost."

Terry sniffled again, choking back more tears. "It's not right.  Yeh left."  Terry hated when people left her.  Even when it wasn't their fault, it was hard to cope with.  She pulled away from Jean and scrubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand.

"I know," Jean said, biting her lip. "I didn't want to, and I'm sorry I had to. I wish more than anything there had been another option."

"Why did yeh come back?  If yeh didn't remember, why are yeh here after all this time?" Terry tried for calm but her accent gave her away.  She wished briefly for a drink—just a shot of whiskey.  What had made her think she should talk to Jean?

The question hurt but it was a fair and Terry deserved the truth. "Because," she said slowly, "my powers were coming back, although I didn't know what they were or how to control them. A... a friend convinced me that I needed to seek help, and that the Professor would be able to give me that help."

“Yeh didn’t know until yeh got here.” Terry blinked incredulously, “Is yer friend a mutant?” It was a difficult concept to grasp, that other people might know and care about this little school and not be either attacking them for it or mutants themselves.

"No," Jean said again, shaking her head. "Until I came here and remembered, I had no idea what was going on. I didn't even believe I was a mutant, but I was so frightened by what was going on that I was willing to try anything. My friend... is not a mutant, as far as I know. Just someone who was concerned about me and willing to do a little research."

“What does yer friend think of all this?” Terry asked innocently. After a second of Jean’s silence she amended the question, “Or have yeh not had a chance to call? It’s been frantic since yeh got back, I know.”

"I... I haven't called him," she admitted, dropping the genderless 'friend'. "Partly because of the hectic, and partly because I'm not really sure what I should say. The person he was worried about is not who I am. I just... I didn't know that, before." Thomas deserved to know what had happened, though. If nothing else, she owed him for the plane ticket.

“Were yeh that different without yer memories, Dr. Grey?” Terry knew it was possible. Look at the difference between Manuel now and a year ago. But Jean had been caring and driven and passionate. Would that really have gone away?

"Fairly, I think," Jean said, considering the question. She moved back, sitting on the table rather than going all the way back to her chair. "I was much less sure of myself, and of everything around me. I guess I was shy. And I was very angry, although I didn't remember why. Or maybe because I didn't remember why."

Terry nodded, “When Sean came back…My father is living here now, by the way…he wanted us to be a family. Like we could be even with everything. He doesn’t understand why I can’t just forgive. The way he remembers me isn’t the way I am. It’s hard to explain it to someone, isn’t it? How yeh can be different and still what they remember?”

Jean nodded in return. "Yes, I think that's exactly right," she said. "You know, you've grown up into a pretty bright young woman. I'm proud of you, Terry."

Terry blushed, fair skin turning bright red. “It’s nothing so much. I’ve just had a lot of time to think about it.”

"Hey, don't knock it." Jean smiled. "A lot of people wouldn't bother, even if they had the time."

“There isn’t much else to do here except think and study. I could get into trouble like some of the others but they don’t seem happier for it.” Terry shrugged, “It’s easier just to be sensible. Except that like I told Jay, who ever heard of a sensible teenager?”

"It happens occasionally," Jean said. "And those students it happens with are every teacher's dream."

Terry grinned, “No one has ever called me a teacher’s dream. Not even Alison and she taught me to sing.” Terry was glad that her previous blush hadn’t faded. “Kitty is their prize. Or Paige. Do you know Paige?” Terry couldn’t remember when Paige had arrived though she thought it was sometime later.

"Paige? No, I don't think I do. And Kitty is brilliant in her own way, of course. Maybe I'm just biased by a fondness for red heads, then?" She grinned.

“Paige and Jay are Sam’s younger sister and brother. Paige is brilliant. Somewhat off, but brilliant. Jay has a better voice than me, not that I said that.” Terry warned. “He’ll get a swollen ego if he hears that. He already knows he’s a pretty boy though I do my best to keep him in check there too. Easy enough to spot them both, Paige is the blonde going a mile a minute despite not being a speedster and Jay’s got huge red wings.”

"Ah, yes. I... I did meet Jay, yesterday. I hear he is... ok?" Jean sounded much less sure of herself now. Which, given the circumstances under which her meeting with Jay had ended, was understandable.

Terry blinked. She’d forgotten about that. “Bruised, I think. He looked fine last night. Complained about my music mostly.”

"Ah. Okay." She smiled, not understanding.

“He doesn’t like Irish music.” Terry shrugged, “But it’s my bedroom and I warned him beforehand.”

Jean nodded. "I see. Well, as long as he knew in advance what he was getting into."

Terry beamed at her, “Exactly.” She glanced at the clock. “Anyway, I should go, I have a music lessons and Alison is a fiend for punctuality. My punctuality anyway, she gets to be late.” Terry stood. “Thanks for the water. I’m glad you’re back, Dr. Grey.”

Jean stood as well, smiling. "Of course," she said. "And I'm very glad to be back. Have a good lesson." Alison Blaire, once more... Inside, she sighed softly.

Terry stepped forward quickly and gave Jean another hug before blushing again and running out.

Jean happily accepted the hug, smiling as Terry left. With the door closed again she sighed. The conversation had quite successfully distracted her from her anger so, holding on to her new good mood, she turned back to the pile of files. Time to get back to work.