Chapter Three...Jean

How much of my soul is for me to give?

That is a really hard question for me to answer now a days. I press my fingers to the frigid window, feeling the press of skin to glass that is as cold as your heart and mind are to me at this moment. Oh Scott, you've been blocking me out lately and I'm now wondering how much a fault that is of yours and how much it is Betsy's. It's just too convienent that you start working on her team and then suddenly you start daydreaming about her and having little subconscious runs of thought about her. It shouts to me of telepathic tampering, although I can't get you to sleep long enough to do a cusory scan to see if it's you or her that is doing this to you. If it's you though Scott...what am I going to do?

I love you. That's a simple and plain truth. But, why dammit do those three words have to have such complicated meaning attached to them? When we were younger things were so much easier for us. There was you and there was me and there was no one else to even think about...to wonder about...and then things started to change. Phoenix happened, Maddie happened, losing Nathan happened. Oh to hell with it I can't lie to myself, I mutter under my breath as I watch my breath fog on the window, Logan happened. He was the first big obstacle between us wasn't he? Warren was just a person that I understood due to our backgrounds and interests and while Warren chased me I still only dreamed of what you might look like behind that visor, or what you were thinking at that moment in your complex refracted mind. Plots inside plots and thoughts inside thoughts...theories and books and all things that could keep someone even like me fascinated for a lifetime...your thoughts were you and you were so beautiful. Warren wasn't as complex. Beautiful but not as fascinating to me as you. You were everything complicated and insolvable. He wasn't. And so you were the one who held everything there was in me in this, my hand clenches at the thought as my fingers join together, choke-hold. A willing one at that. You were in my dreams you were in my thoughts you were the love of my life.

And then in comparison to your surface cold that you exude when life gets horribly difficult so that you can cope, Logan with his heat and fire came along. Where you hid your feelings for me and ran from them because of what I might be able to do to your soul and heart should I be let in too closely, Logan welcomed me in to a certain level and made no mistake of his desire for me. And then the chemistry mixed in and we were a time bomb waiting to explode. And you Scott, poor scarred up you, had no idea how to cope other than to fight for me the only way you knew how and that was to fight back at Logan with logic and strategy. And you fought back with the greatest weapon of all with me. Trust. You trusted me and you loved me like an open hand holding sand so that I could still fly, and so I couldn't do anything about my feelings for Logan because I loved you just as much as before. Where Logan and I burned on the outside, probably for all to see and fighting ourselves, you put forth that cold exterior while on the inside loved me with a soul deep passion that I could never, in a thousand years, deny. You were and are such a beautiful person Scott. The nobility of your character, the responsibilty...everything...just piles up like blocks in a computer game and makes you all the stronger and more complex for it. I know that I am the weakness in those strong foundations and I could crumble you down more than a couple pegs if I used things against you or if I ever turned to Logan and made reality the dreams we both have had. But you also hold power over me Scott. You might not realize it, but I also trust you and love you and that makes me weakened to what you could do if you ever turn and make real the fantasies you have about HER.

I can't blame you. You have been through so much and with time at a maximum lately I haven't been able to pay attention to you the way you probably needed to be paid attention to. But dammit Scott if you needed me why didn't you track me down and talk it over with me? What IS it in your personality that still doesn't allow you to turn to ANYONE in times of emotional need and ask to talk about something? I could have listened or talked it out with you but you were always in a hurry or in the middle of something else. I don't recall once where you turned to me and asked me to talk about something. Instead I come in and you're fantasizing about Betsy's bodily dimensions or thinking to yourself about her opinion on a certain conversation. It makes me all the more willing to turn to Logan when I NEED to talk because I feel like my opinions are unwanted by you. Why? Why are we continuing in this horrible cycle over and over and over again?

I just got back from that scene, if you want to call it that, down in the hanger. I know what you and Betsy did. Betsy was so SMUG that she had managed to kiss you that I wanted to kill her. For the first time in a long time I was on the verge of killing rage. But, knowing that you enjoyed it ticked me off all the more...and it hurt. Am I not attractive enough for you anymore Scott? Have I gotten old to you? The bitter words going through my heart right now, I realize deep down are far from fair to you. I mean I have had make out sessions with Logan for God's sake. I've kissed Warren. I've screwed with your heart so much that if you decided to stray somewhat with one kiss what in the hell was wrong with me that I would take it so personally? Probably because, to me, a kiss is just a kiss. I might taste Logan's lips on mine, I might be able to tell you what the texture of Warren's hands are like as they frame my face, but to you Scott...a kiss is so much more with you. When you kiss you taste that other person's soul if that is possible. You kiss when you mean it, not just because it feels good. Your heart is involved when you kiss someone.

I thought with Betsy it was just physical attraction and I was jealous of that since she's got a lot to offer in that area, but now...now I realize it's more. And I'm starting to realize exactly how far we've grown apart that I didn't realize that you felt that way for Betsy. For once the pain of knowledge is shining on me and I'm realizing what it must be like for you to look at me and Logan together knowing that he might very well hold the other half of my soul, and I'm scared Scott. Soul deep scared. I always assumed, somehow, that you would always point straight as an arrow toward me. I mean you were always so sure of the love you had for me Scott...it's like this flavor of ice and burn in my mind and soul whenever I needed the reassurance. Even when my telepathy was gone I knew just by the look on your face, the way your face would relax a bit and that look of almost pleasure and pain would come over you, that you loved me almost too much. It was a great source of comfort for me and I guess I got cocky figuring that love was going to last forever. I realize now how much of a fool I was to think that way. Love, like anything you plant and nourish has to have nourishment another or it will die. You nourished me Scott and allowed me to grow into a huge plant with many reaching branches while you were slowly shriveling away from neglect. I realize that now and I don't know how to begin to rectify that. And damn you Scott Summers you're running away again. How am I supposed to figure out how to fix this, if it's fixable if you just go away??? This is one aspect of you I absolutely despise sometimes. You always run away when your emotions are involved too deeply and there are better ways to go about things.

I walk toward the front door of the mansion, knowing what I'm going to find before I get there, but praying that I'll find otherwise. I'm, unfortunately, not wrong. You're standing there walking toward the front door, Ororo trying to stall you probably to try and get some answers from somewhere on what the heck is going on. You know Scott, she talked to me earlier and told me that if I wasn't careful I was going to lose you. I just laughed and said that you couldn't lose something that didn't want to be lost. I'm really starting to realize how much ego was involved and how much jealousy I had buried in me. Turns out I was jealous with good reason more's the miracle. I look down at you as I spout off about how you're better at building walls than anyone I know and you say some hurtful, but true things back as you look at me for a moment. Time suspends and the moment is so tangible I could reach out and grab it in my hands. What do you want me to say Scott? What do you want from me? I know you want something...I can feel it deep down in the core of my being and humming along our psychic bond like it's a living prescence in itself. Do you want me to beg or to spout off how much I hate you? Do you want me to pull you closer or push you away?

One of the problems being linked to you Scott Summers is that life is so damn difficult on its own and then trying to figure out what you are thinking is like trying to figure out where interlacing started on some of those midievil celtic tapestries of old. Lots of interweaving, lots of bright colors that will keep you occupied for hours just staring at it in awe. It looks even halfway simple until you try looking deeper into the image and trying to figure out where all the colors and images start and end. Then you feel your eyes going around in a circle and your mind winding in much the same way...finally realizing the complexity of the beauty before you and the near feverish zeal that the artist would have had to put into such a design to make it work to their harmonious specifications. It would also take the patience of a saint and the instincts of a trained expert. And looking down at you love I'm realizing that you're one hell of a an interweaving and I'm trying to figure out what you could want from me in this complex winding pattern of "what if's" and it doesn't work. You look up at me, the moment of suspended time where I could have done much I'm sure, and you simply turn around and walk away.

Outside I'm still cold and angry to those around me, probably looking very upset. Inside I wonder if you're even coming back and feel my heart tear into small pieces. And you didn't have to do a thing Scott...all you had to do was leave my little run away.

I go to look for Betsy after I hear the taxi pull away from the curb, heading to the airport and then to your grandparents. I know where you'd head if you ran from here...you'd want to go to your grandparents and confront the guilt that you've harbored since Nate...left. And so I know that you will be alright there with them one way or the other, and so I go to confront a suspicion I've held for some time now. It's unnatural having this type of obsession over a woman and thus I have to really wonder if Betsy has been manipulating you telepathically. We're sworn, as telepaths of this school, not to do that and she sure as HELL isn't going to do it to you. Ever again if I have my way. And make no mistake Scott...I will get my way on this one.

I find her in the danger room and looking down at the scene I feel my forehead furrow a bit in some anxiety that I can't explain. She looks fine working out down there, although taking too many chances, throwing herself into the fight like it is her everything, and at the same time moving with the expertise that allows for her to do what she does best. And that is to fight and kill. But that isn't want really gets the hair on the back of my neck to stand up straight...it's something else...something in the air. It's almost a repressed agression and anger from an outside third source directed at the purple haired ninja below me.

Or...I pause as I look over the controls with my anger restored, maybe it's just my anger becoming a new lifeform. I've got enough in me right now for four or five people to power of small city on. I watch as she does something with her fists that leaves three of the holograms dead, and punching in the keys time it to turn off on my voice command. I then walk out and down toward the front door to the Danger Room, my mind already on the confrontation ahead. By this time I KNOW deep down inside that Betsy has been manipulating you Scott because it's just not LIKE you to act like you have been and not turn to me for comfort. I wouldn't ignore you if you did. And I KNOW she's to blame for this.

I don't even bother with the Danger Room opening sequence. I instead just throw out a small portion of anger in the form of a telekinetic thought and flip the opening switch with my mental hand. A complete waste of power? Maybe. Irresponsible? Maybe. Not thought out? Never. I want Betsy to know I'm coming and I want her to be afraid of me. I want to be able to vent the anger within me at a blameable target and I feel that she'll do just fine...just fine indeed.

The beginning of the confrontation goes smoothly enough. I speak out with all of the anger in me and I make my accusations to you. I'm determined that you're going to admit it, for whatever reason I have no idea. It's not like I can go to Professor Xavier as immersed as he is in his lab and shout about you misusing your powers. If we kicked you out you'd probably go hunt down Scott and seduce him even more. I try to latch onto your mind as I make my case and state what I feel is my evidence, but your mind evades me like a butterfly that you're known to be like. I can only take so much of anyone fooling around with me before I get really ticked off and you manage to do it about three minutes into your mental thrust and parry. So, to get better contact with your mind and find out the truth once and for all I reach out with all of the anger in me and cutting through your aura, but not painfully because I know the injuries that can cause, I use that energy as a launching pad to shoot myself into your mind. What I find shocks me.

You're ticked at ME??? For thinking that you would NEED to use telepathic manipulation to get Scott to notice you. My egotism floors you and really makes you angry at the same time. I realize what you're going to do before you do it, but there isn't enough time to even think a defense. I just throw up mental barriers as your hand comes up, hoping for a mild head ache.

The mental blockades don't help. You cut through them like a knife going through butter as I feel every neural synapsis in my body just give up as energy strikes along synapsis on top of synapsis and overloads my body basically. The mental blocks don't even falter...they just rip apart in a painful mass of mental glass shards as you rip into my mind like a bird of pray coming down and scooping up a succulent rabit.

I feel myself hit the floor, but it's far away. It's the impressions that I get from you in a caledescope of chaos that has me floored.

Two months earlier, Scott looking so solemn and sad...almost like me at times...too damn good at building walls "Scott would you like to go out for some coffee? You look like you could use some." He said yes. Good. Maybe we can be friends since I'm still realitively new getting to know this man. How it all began

Another moment in time. Scott looking at me so calm and yet his face and body just SHOW pain in every line. I ask what is wrong and he says merely that it was Nathan's birthday today. I'm floored when he says that Jean didn't remember it. Hank was going to go out with him later to help him over the hurdle because Jean had a conference to go to with Xavier on Mutant Genetics or something. I feel his pain like a knife in my gut just from being around him, but I watch as Hank comes in Groucho Marx Glasses on and singing a chipper tune talking about some antic and Scott starts to laugh. After all of this pain he can still laugh. Bobby comes in with a smile and I see him and Hank as they purposefully try to cheer Scott up by singing. It's not working as Scott looking amused tries to cover his ears, but it doesn't radiate from him. He's still distracted. So, I reach down deep for my opera training and do my teachers proud as I raise my voice to the heavens and start to sing. Everyone is amazed and by the third time I've gone through "Carmen" I think I have actual fans, especially Scott. He appreciates what I did I can feel it radiating from him. Also there is appreciation for my singing which I smile at. It's good to know I'm wanted.

Looking at me across the blackbird controls and mutters something about nightmares and how they're evil. He looks tired. I really think he needs someone to talk to. But, instead he asks me about my recent visit with Brian and if everything went alright. He's one of a kind is that man. I just smile and announce if he ever wants to have dreams he could always dream about me. He turns bright red and turns away...could he be interested in me too? No...he's too in love with Jean.

Jean should really stop getting angry at him for thinking about me. It's not like he's not human. So, he's lusting after another woman...so what everyone does that. It's called being male. To quote Jubilation "duh" Jean.

After seeing this for way too long Scott, and seeing how she treats you...Xavier coming first, Warren's suffering coming first, her self pity coming first, Hank's feelings about turning thirty coming before you wanting to talk about Cable...that's it. This has got to stop. I'm going to do what a woman should have done years ago my dear man. I'm going to win you. The way she's going it won't take much. Really.

I finally realize what was really going on that entire time Scott. The attempts you made to actually reach out to me that I didn't even see because I was helping someone else. And so you pushed me further away because you didn't think I would want another burden added onto the last one and the in the times where we did talk I just freaked at you for lusting after another attractive woman, which wasn't even fair because not only are you human but me being a telepath gives me an unfair advantage over another woman. I know what you're thinking when you're thinking it all the time unless you purposefully block me out. I could have reached out for you too. You're not the only one to blame, I'm not fully to blame either, but a good portion of that blame belongs to me. I should have just fought for you in other ways instead of judging you by loving you. You would have come back to me if I had done that. Now, especially after accusing Betsy of all of this and the ramifications of what it could mean that she used her powers on me like this...the outcome might not be what I'd hope and pray for. Dear God Scott...come back to me, I cry mentally, because we have to make this right.

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I wait anxiously, pushing my shirt down nervously with my hands subconsciously as I wait for you to climb off the plane and down the gate. I know that you'll be cramped as all get out. You always are when flying due to your height and that you're going to need to take a hot shower to get rid of the cramping in your shoulders. I even got the roomy car to pick you up. It's been a while, a lot longer than it seems. A lot has happened since you've been gone Scott. I hope this reunion and that you requested that I pick you up at the airport is good news. I've had a chance to think a lot lately and reflect on what I learned from Betsy and came to peace with everything. I have just realized a few basic truths. I love you Scott Summers more than anything. You're everything I ever wanted in a mate and I'll be damned if I let you go if you don't want me to. I hope that you feel the same way.

I don't realize I'm projecting until I look up and see you standing in front of me. I curse mentally for being caught staring off into space and speak your name with all of the need in my heart. You don't talk. You don't need to. True Scott-like move you end up doing as you simply pull me into your arms and do what we both needed to do to be assured that everything was going to be okay. You press your lips to mine and join your soul completely with mine in that moment again. It's like having a drink of water after a long abscence from any type of liquid. You flow through my mind in so many colors that I feel interlacing with mine that I don't know where your thoughts begin for a moment and mine end. It's beautiful as are your thoughts. And when you say it I know what you need when we separate. You need to talk. I can do that...and I can listen Scott. I haven't done that a lot lately and you haven't done the reaching out in ways that I grasped, but we'll start now and make it count. I promise.

"Little Run Away" comes over the radio as we pull out of the parking lot and for some odd reason I find it fitting and have to smile. I then concentrate on driving and listening to what you have to say as I head toward home. "Home"...what a wonderful word. My little run away has come home...to me.