Disclaimer: Marvel owns them. I just have my wicked way with them. :)
Warnings: Explicit sexual content and some violence.
"I remember when we could sleep on stones
Now we lie together In whispers and moans
When I was all messed up
And I heard opera in my head
Your love was a light bulb
Hanging over my bead."
U2, 'Ultraviolet' (from 'Achtung Baby')
FLASH
/I'm sitting in a chair./
FLASH
/red lights, blue lights, yellow lights/
FLASH
/painpainpainpainstopthepainstopthepain/
FLASH
Jean grabbed her temples and tipped forward, pressing her face into the mattress.
Everyone else in the room stared at each other for a second in silence. Logan shot across the bed about the time that Storm jumped out of her chair. "Jean! Jean, what's the matter?" she asked, gently touching Jean's shoulder.
Logan turned to Rogue, barely concealing his panic. "Go get the professor," he ordered, and Rogue practically leapt off of the bed.
"Jean? Jean, can you hear me?" Ororo shook Jean carefully, "Jean, answer me!"
/A hospital chair; I'm sitting in a hospital chair. Blue light.../
FLASH
FLASH
FLASH
/Oh, my god, it's Logan... he's so still, just staring straight up.../
FLASH
FLASH
FLASH
FLASH
"Jean!"
Logan's voice suddenly pierced through the fog and Jean sat straight up, eyes wild. She lashed out, but Logan caught her fists and pulled her close to him, whispering quietly to her. She gradually calmed down and broke into quiet sobs, her face buried in his shirt. Ororo gently smoothed Jean's hair back from her face. "Are you all right?" she asked quietly.
Jean sat up and wiped her face. "I don't know. . . "
"I got the professor. . . " Rogue said hesitantly from the door.
The rush of relief when Professor Xavier rolled into the room was almost tangible. He stopped in front of Jean and took her hands. "Jean, what happened?" he asked softly, his eyes going cloudy as they always did when he probed into someone's mind.
/fear. . . terror. . . pain, so much pain. . . /
Charles jerked back suddenly, his eyes wide. He looked from Jean to Logan and back again. After a long moment of silence, Logan was a ball of impatience. "Well?" he barked, "What the hell was that?"
Professor Xavier gave him an infinitely patient look.. "I think that Jean picked up on some of your memories, Logan" he explained. "We know that you two have a psychic connection and it's surprisingly strong. I didn't think Jean's abilities had developed enough to detect memories that are so deeply repressed. I can barely sense those memories myself."
"What does that mean?" Jean asked, rubbing her temples.
Charles sighed, rubbing his own forehead. "I'm not sure, Jean."
She nodded slowly and wiped her face again. Charles smiled at her. "You look like you need some rest. Why don't I make you some tea?"
"That sounds good," she replied quietly. She still hadn't completely regained her clam. Fear still hummed through her like a live wire, leaving a metallic tang in her mouth.
She stood slowly, and when Logan reached out to her, she just shook her head. "I'm fine. I'll be fine. Just give me a little while," she said, and he nodded, clearly not happy.
Jean put her elbows on the counter and rested her head in her hands, watching the professor go about making tea. She hadn't felt this much undirected anxiety since before she had come to the school. Her heart was still pounding and her skin prickled with dread. The teakettle's whistle nearly sent her off of her stool.
Charles just smiled at her in his calm way and poured the boiling water into a mug. "That's not chamomile, is it?" she asked.
He shook his head and brought the mug to her. "Of course not. I know you hate chamomile. That's one of the perks of being psychic. It's Sleepytime."
She grinned at him. "You sound silly saying that."
He feigned ignorance. "Saying what?"
"Sleepytime," she finished the old joke and they both laughed softly.
"When did that joke start?" Charles asked, folding his hands in his lap.
"Right after you found me. I couldn't sleep because I kept hearing everyone else's thoughts. You made me tea and taught me how to shield my mind," she said, smiling to herself.
The smile slowly disappeared and she idly swirled the teabag around in the mug, staring into the darkening water. She could feel the professor staring at her, but she wanted to avoid talking for a while. She needed some more time to work her emotions out, to examine each of them and discover its root.
"What did you see, Jean?" Charles finally asked when she tossed the teabag in the garbage.
She squeezed an inordinately large amount of honey into her tea and stirred it in. "I don't know if I can describe it. Um. . . " she paused, flustered by the memories. "I was. . . sitting in a chair. It was one of those chairs you see in hospital rooms, like the ones we have in the sick bay. And the lights. . . they kept changing colors, red to blue to yellow. And then there was just pain. Horrible, horrible pain. I felt like I couldn't stand it anymore. I just wanted to die to make the pain stop. And then I could feel someone drawing on my skin, but I couldn't see anything. Everything flashed and then water was closing over me and I thought I would drown and I was so afraid, Professor." she started to cry again. "And then I was back in the hospital chair and the light was blue and I could see Logan lying there, staring at the ceiling. He was so still, as if he were dead."
She wiped the tears away again and blew over the surface of her tea, taking a sip. "I've never felt anything like that before," she whispered. "I've never been so afraid. And that's what Logan felt. . . "
Charles touched her arm, giving her comfort. "I think you should get some sleep. I'll speak with Logan. Perhaps he has had some new memories surface. . . "
Rogue's piercing scream interrupted him mid-sentence. They looked at each other for a second. "Something's wrong with Logan," she said and ran out of the kitchen, her full mug shattering on the tile.
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