We Can Explain...

We Can Explain... Chapter Forty One (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE (tm), Prophetic Must, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta... Soon, another one! And has Watari tried the walking yet? InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink and Dracena are lovely bunnies for hosting/archiving. ProPhile: Get ready for a serious smut musing in a few days... Readers/Reviewers: Almost there... bear with me, lol.



Scott found Jean sitting at the kitchen table when he returned to the boathouse, her hair lying dark and damp on her shoulders as she stared into a cooling cup of tea. She did not even look up as he shut the back door. A quick glance showed him that she had not been studying or even eating a long overdue meal, just sitting. "Something wrong?" he asked cautiously, not moving from the doorway.
"I'm not sure..." She finally looked up at him, her eyes red and slightly puffy, though Scott could not tell if it was from crying or sheer tiredness. "I think something is very wrong with me." She pushed the cup of tea away and shoved herself to her feet as if her body were too heavy to consider moving gently. She crossed the kitchen in a few steps and fairly flung herself into his arms.
Scott stood stiffly for one startled moment before lifting her like a child and carrying her the short distance to the den. She was limp and heavy in his arms, not protesting the treatment and rather accepting it easily. He settled her on the sofa and set beside her, pulling her closer so she could rest her head against his chest. "What is it, Jean? Tell me..." He had never seen her so honestly upset. Her normally reserved exterior had cracked and revealed someone so worn and tired he would not recognize her if he were not married to her.
"It's all too much," she murmured. She was too tired to cry. "All of it... school, trying to work and keep my grades up, this..." She made a vague gesture to indicate her life entire. "And this past week... Scott, for the first time in a long time, I doubted myself. We were tricked and manipulated. I couldn't fight it... What am I if I can't fight off a simple deception? I've done more difficult things in the Danger Room with Emma..."
Scott sighed and squeezed her about the shoulders in an awkward embrace due to their position. "You're normal, Jean. I mean...we were all tricked and manipulated. Even the Professor, I think. I mean, he had no idea what was going on otherwise it wouldn't have lasted so long, right?" She nodded against him, sniffing slightly. He pressed on, stroking her wet hair that smelled like some flower he could not name. "What happened to us was meant to scare us, at least as far as I can figure. Why else would someone go to all that trouble?"
"I haven't felt right since we came back," she put in, shifting slightly so she could look him in the eye. "I'm tired all the time. I'm not hungry, I don't want to study, I don't even want to have sex. I just want to sleep." She shook her head and closed her eyes in rueful self examination. "It's like something was sucked out of me, like my battery is drained."
His hand drifted down her side to the curve of her waist, sliding over her stomach where the silver bug had been removed. "Jean..." She was already asleep. He sighed again and eased her back against the arm of the couch, pulling the afghan over her bare legs. "We'll talk later," he said softly, knowing she could not hear him. He let himself out of the house quietly, heading towards the med lab to talk to Beast.

Jean dreamt vividly. It was like watching a movie on fast forward, the entire time from the festival to the point where they decided to call the police. Then the rapid whirlwind of images and sensations stopped and then resumed, this time at normal speed. She felt nauseated, even in her sleep, as the events replayed themselves...
"Damn it..." She had tried calling information for the local sheriff's department's phone number but there was no signal. "And 911 doesn't work either... shit!" She was on the verge of throwing the cel phone in a fit of pique again but restrained herself. "Any other ideas?"
Scott grimaced in consternation. "Go across the street to the bus station, I guess," he sighed. "Come on..." He slipped behind the steering wheel and waited for Jean to shut the door before trying to start the car, try being the operative. "Damn it, come on..." The engine would not turn over, just wheezed and choked.
"Stop, Scott," she said sharply, reaching out to lay a staying hand atop his as he tried to turn the key again. "It won't work."
"How do you know?" He was not amused, to say the least. He leaned back in the driver's seat and fought an uncharacteristic temper tantrum.
"I'm psychic," she responded dryly. She could not quite place her finger on it but she knew something was dreadfully amiss. "Ever get the feeling that we're being watched?"
Scott paused for a long moment before responding. "Jean, is there someone out there?"
"No...that's the problem. I'm not picking up anything at all. Not even you..." Her voice had taken on a tinge of fear, shaking slightly as she spoke. "Send me something," she asked as calmly as she could manage. "Anything. Just send it strongly."
A long moment passed where Scott sent her the most detailed, shocking thought he could scrounge up. When her expression did not so much as twitch, he felt a pang of fear. "Nothing?"
She licked her lips and looked uncertain of her next words, but she said them anyway. "Take off your glasses."
"What? No! Are you crazy?" He leaned back, away from her, as if she had offered him physical violence.
"Please...just trust me. Take them off." She was afraid that what she was thinking was true and she was sick at the thought forming in her head.
Scott hesitated a moment longer before sighing and rolling down the window. He faced away from her and carefully, slowly, removed the glasses.
"Are your eyes open?" she asked anxiously.
"Yes..." He sounded shocked and nearly giddy. "Jean...my eyes..." He turned to face her, stunned.
"Are blue."

A/N Next, finishing Jean/Scott and getting to the point, LOL.