Memory
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story. And I'm not making any money off of this.
Summary: Another Scott/Jean. The only way I can think of to sum it up is they have a
'deep profound connection' in a Roswellesque fashion. Any of you who have read the Roswell High books or seen the show will know what I'm talking about.
Author's Note: If you don't like the fic, don't read it. Flaming me is not going to change my opinions or how much I write. On the other hand if you have any high praise to give, if you wish to worship me or kiss my feet...that's all perfectly welcome. Every writer could use some encouragement...and human sacrifice... Also, if you have any helpful critique on my grammar, spelling, writing style, ect. I'm all ears.
So bring on the reviews!
~ ~ ~
"Hey, you traveled!" Scott yelled, pointing an accusing finger at Jean. "That basket's no good."
"Why can't you just admit I burned you?" Jean snapped as the ball bounced away. She stood beneath the basket, hands on her hips, looking exasperated. So far, he had called every play she'd made, and she'd denied every infraction.
"Because you didn't!" he replied, retrieving the ball. "You traveled, so I stopped to make the call."
She raised an eyebrow at him. "Who died and made you the ref?"
"Well, if you hadn't dribbled all over Kurt's tail we'd still have a ref and I wouldn't be the one calling all your crappy plays!"
"Me? I didn't dribble on his tail, you stepped on it you clumsy idiot!"
"Look, whatever, let's just start the play again." He tossed her the ball.
"Fine." Jean took a few dribbles as Scott got into a defensive position. Suddenly, Jean lunged forward, throwing all her weight against Scott, knocking him down.
"Hey! Now that's just cheating!" He yelled as he landed on his butt. Jean made the lay-up, then turned to offer him her hand. He glared up at her for a moment then grudgingly reached up and took it. But instead of pulling himself up, he pulled her down onto the pavement next to him.
"That wasn't fair." he said calmly.
"Yeah? Well, what are you gonna do about it?" She taunted. Scott grinned maliciously at her. Suddenly, his hands were at her sides, tickling her ribs. She squealed and tried to wiggle away but it was useless.
He continued his merciless tickling assault until her sides hurt from giggling.
"Stop! Stop please!" she wheezed, wiping away the tears of mirth that were still flowing from her eyes. The tickling stopped, but Scott didn't remove his hands from her sides.
"Will you play by my rules?" he asked, prodding her once in the ribs to remind her who was in charge.
"Yes!" she squealed trying to bat his hands away. He tightened his grip.
"And I am undisputed ruler of this court?" she turned to fix him with a 'don't push your luck' glare, but as she did so, her shirt slid up just enough so that Scott's palm was touching the skin on her side.
Her breath caught in her throat. She didn't know why, but somehow the skin-on-skin contact with Scott sent her pulse racing. She didn't mean to. She didn't even realize she was doing it, but she found herself connecting to Scott. His thoughts, his emotions, and his memories became hers to read as she chose. This feeling itself was no different from connecting with another person, but there was something else that was different. He could feel her. He could access her thoughts and emotions as easily as she could access his. She could feel both of their pulses, beating in perfect sync. Each breath they took was exactly in time with the other.
For a moment, they were one person. With the same emotions, the same thoughts, and the same memories...
*FLASH*
Ten year old Jean Grey climbed out of the car and stared at the mansion in front of her. She had never seen anything so large in her entire life.
Professor Xavier smiled at her awed expression. "Welcome to my school for gifted youngsters Jean." he said. Jean glanced at the house again as the door clicked open. A tall, beautiful woman stepped out, smiling. Her long white hair blowing in the gentle spring breeze. "This is Ororo Munroe, also called Storm. She'll be one of your instructors here at the institute. Ororo I'd like you to meet Jean Grey." The older woman held out her hand to shake Jean's.
"I'm very pleased to meet you Jean." she said. "This is Logan, another instructor here," she indicated a short, broad shouldered man behind her. "and this is Scott Summers." a boy wearing red sunglasses who appeared to be about her age stepped forward. "He'll be your classmate both here and at the Bayville community schools."
Scott grinned amiably at her. "Hi, welcome to the institute." he said extending his hand. He had an almost military rigidness to him. He seemed very serious. But something about the way his hair flopped, and the warmth of his smile (and the fact that she could read his mind) told her he was someone she was going to like. She reached out and shook his hand. The first contact they ever had.
*FLASH*
Other memories whizzed past. The time Scott had torn up his knee in the danger room and Jean had bandaged it for him. Her light fingers brushing across his skin. The time Jean had lost control of her powers, levitating a harassing senior and Scott had immediately started talking about alien sightings in a nearby town. He had had to drag into an empty classroom, his big hands nearly crushing her small ones. The time tension had erupted between Scott and Duncan Matthews and Jean had found them fighting under the bleachers. Afterwards, as she put his glasses back onto his face, he had held her wrists for security. As though he was afraid of what might happen to him if he was left alone.
*FLASH*
Suddenly, Jean felt the warm pressure on her side jerk away. Instantly the memories and emotions stopped flowing between them.
Jean looked at Scott, confused. She had felt something just before the connection ended. His doubt. His fear. Something he had felt inside them both had obviously terrified him. So he had let go, and she couldn't understand why. Without him in her brain she felt horribly alone. The feeling of such despairing loneliness was shocking. She had never, in her entire life, felt loneliness like this.
She felt a sudden wave of bitter cold sweep through her as Scott's hands fell away from her. He stood up slowly and stared down at her. Jean wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stop the rapidly spreading cold from claiming her entire body. She could feel tears building behind her eyes, but even they felt oddly cold. She stood quickly and fled into the house.
~ ~ ~
Scott stared at the spot where Jean had sat moments before. Her eyes still burned in his head. That look of pain and confusion. Had he really done that to her? Had he really just caused the pain he had been trying for so long to protect her from? He shifted his gaze to his hand. The hand that had somehow caused Jean to form a connection between them unlike any either of them had experienced before.
Why had he pulled away? What was the matter with him? That had been the most amazing thing he'd experienced in his life, and he had thrown it away. Why? Because he was afraid? Afraid to find out how she felt about him? Afraid she'd find out how he really felt about her? Or afraid that he'd realize it himself?
He felt like he couldn't breathe. Now that she was gone his brain did not seem to be receiving enough oxygen. Random thoughts and questions chased each other through the jumbled confusion of his emotions. He was drowning without her.
A raindrop fell on his head and he looked up at the quickly darkening sky. Then he turned and walked away from the institute hoping to regain some of his sanity.
~ ~ ~
Jean had taken a bath, hoping the steaming water would drown out the cold in her. But it hadn't worked. Nothing had worked, and now she lay on her bed in her bathrobe, her hair up in a towell. Distantly she realized that her fiery red mane would be impossible to deal with in the morning, but the thought was swallowed up by the dark, frozen hole that had been left after the connection. She just lay there, unmoving. Staring at the rain licking her bedroom window.
There was a sharp knock at the door. Jean climbed up from amidst her fuzzy plush pillows to open it. Scott stood in the hallway, water dripping from his hair, a large puddle at his feet. She took him by the arm and gently pulled him into the room, closing the door behind him. No words were spoken. They both knew what needed to be done. Jean reached up and gently placed her hand to his cheek. The connection started immediately. Once again they saw every memory, heard every thought and felt every emotion of the other.
Jean kept her hand gently pressed to Scott's face until the connection became less of a swirling mass of the memories and emotions of two people and the excitement began to fade. They were connected. Now and forever. Jean smiled and removed her hand. Then she raised herself up slightly and softly kissed Scott's lips.
"Goodnight Slym." she whispered quietly.
"Goodnight Redd." he whispered back, then turned and walked out, closing the door behind him. Scott smiled to himself as he walked down the hallway to his own room. He had his sanity back. And he could breathe again.
-The End