Earth-717: X-Men Vol 2

Chapter 2: Consummation

“Again.”

“Mini-Sentinel combat training,” said Moira over the loudspeaker.

The simulation constructs formed all around Scott, who was standing in the centre of the

Danger Room. A three-dimensional grid of blue, glowing energy draped across the space, and began

filling in the details of the simulated battlefield. Five Mini-Sentinels, about half a metre taller than

Scott, were strewn across the field, all facing him.

Scott closed his eyes momentarily and inhaled.

“Start!”

The Mini-Sentinels fired optical lasers at Scott, who had already dashed forward and rolled

towards a piece of concrete debris. Using it as cover, he fired an optical blast of his own at the farthest

Mini-Sentinel, blowing a hole through its chest piece. In retaliation, the Mini-Sentinel closest to it fired

a wrist rocket.

Glaring, Scott dodged to the right at the last second, causing a Mini-Sentinel about to attack him

from behind to get hit by the rocket. Flipping backwards, he grabbed the remains of the now destroyed

Mini-Sentinel and put it in front of him, using it as a shield to absorb optical blasts from two more

Mini-Sentinels.

Kicking out its feet, he rushed forward and jumped, holding his fist back. Throwing it forward

with the momentum of his leap, he punched out a third Mini-Sentinel before spinning around and

landing a roundhouse kick on the head of a fourth. The Mini-Sentinel recovered and tried to grab at

him, but he ducked under the arm and unleashed a five hit punching combo on its torso, ripping apart

its innards.

Pushing it out of the way, he then fired an optical blast at the last Mini-Sentinel, which also

fired one at the same time. The two laser blasts connected, cancelling each other out. Scott quickly

fired another at the leg of the Mini-Sentinel, blowing it apart. Stunned, it was then shredded by another

quick optical blast from Scott's visor.

“All Mini-Sentinels defeated,” said Moira. “Mark.”

As the construct field dissipated, showing the empty, metallic, spherical room, Scott exhaled

and stretched out his arms in several positions. His muscles, which he had been developing over the

past year since joining the Institute, rippled under his uniform bodysuit. While he was still fairly thin,

his body was lean and toned due to his vehemently structured workout regimen.

“Time?”

“Fifty-four seconds,” answered Moira. “Again.”

“Dammit.”

Scott looked up to the window near the top of the Danger Room. Moira was on the other side,

sitting in the command room. She was sitting back in her rolling chair, looking at the data on the

combat terminal computer screen. She was wearing a blue blouse and beige jeans, and had a pink

hairband on her head. Her right hand was pressed against her face, and her left was twiddling an orange

pen.

Moira sighed before speaking.

“I think it's time for a rest, Scott. You've been hitting the same time over and over.”

“No. Again.”

“Really, Scott?”

Scott quickly turned around at the sound of Jean's voice. She walked into the Danger Room,

wearing a tank top and jeans. Her hair was just as lush as ever, and she had small, silver 'X' earrings

hanging from both ears. She stopped a few metres away from Scott.

“Don't you train enough?”

Scott took a moment before responding.

“You should be training with me.”

Jean put on an unimpressed face.

“The whole team trained with you for six hours yesterday. And the day before that. And the day

before that. We kind of wanted a break.”

Scott shook his head. He then began to punch and kick the air while in place.

“I can't work like that,” started Scott. “I need to stay prepared. The next time we have to face

Sentinels, or another deranged, crazy mutant, you'll be thanking me for all this training. We need to be

able to control the battlefield, and we can only do that by forcing ourselves to be better.”

Jean sighed and walked closer to Scott. When she reached him, she placed a hand on his

shoulder, and he stopped moving.

“You can't control everything,” said Jean. “What happens when you think you've got command

of a situation, and then something takes you by complete surprise? You can't plan for every possibility.”

“Well, if I can't plan for it, then what should I do?”

“Trust us.”

Scott inhaled and stared into Jean's eyes. After several moments, he exhaled and nodded,

looking at the ground. Jean smiled.

“Besides, mister, you completely forgot about our date tonight.”

Scott perked his head up.

“Uh, er . . . .”

“Said you would take me to the city? Do something different for a change? Hmmm? Or did all

your hard and fast training empty your memory banks?”

“I'll, er, meet you in the lobby in ten.”

* * * *

Out of his uniform and now in casual clothes, Scott walked down the halls of the mansion

towards the lobby. His hands in his pockets, he had to see everything in the world through the lens of

his red-tinted sunglasses. Looking into the recreation room as he passed it, he saw Bobby and Hank

playing a game of fuse-ball while Piotr was laying on the couch, drawing with a pencil in his

sketchbook.

Scott looked away from them and continued walking down the hall without speaking. He

arrived in the lobby, stepping across the giant X on the floor. Jean was standing at the double doors,

smiling. As he was about to reach her, he heard a voice coming from both behind and above him.

“Scott.”

Scott turned around and looked up to see Xavier sitting in his wheelchair on the balcony

overlooking the lobby. He had his hands folded on his lap.

“Don't worry Professor, we'll be back by . . . .”

“I just wanted to tell you to have fun,” interrupted Xavier.

Xavier smiled. Scott stared at him for a few seconds.

“Thanks.”

Xavier nodded. Jean opened the door.

“And treat her well.”

Scott nodded.

“I will.”

Scott turned to face Jean, and the two exited the house, closing the double doors behind them.

Xavier exhaled and leaned back against his wheelchair. After a minute, Moira walked up next to him.

“They leave?”

“Yes.”

Moira sighed and folded her arms.

“I dunno about you, Charles, but I really think there's a void in the soul of that boy. Like he's

lost a part of himself that he's never gotten back.”

“I know. All too well.”

“All he does is work and train, but I never see him get any joy out of it. It's just an endless cycle

with him. I can't even remember the last time I saw him smile. I hope she can help him. A boy his age

shouldn't be that jaded.”

Xavier exhaled.

“Whether one is an idealist or a cynic, we rarely have the chance to choose that for ourselves.

Circumstance plays a larger role in that than most care to admit.”

Moira raised an eyebrow.

“You don't really believe that?! What about what you told to Erik?”

“Erik's had a harder life than I,” said Xavier. “And just because one is a cynic does not mean

that they are not accountable for choosing between right and wrong.”

Xavier frowned and shook his head.

“I need some time alone in my study. Tell the others that I'm not to be disturbed.”

Moira was silent for a few moments before nodding.

“Alright.”

Xavier turned away from Moira, sighing. He then rolled away from her. She watched him the

whole time, with a growing frown. As he rolled into his private study, he closed the door behind him.

For several minutes, Moira silently watched the door. What she could not see, was that the entire time

she was staring, Xavier had his face in his hands.

* * * *

“And at the ninth hole, he just froze it over so there was no chance.”

Jean laughed as she finished speaking, and Scott let out a halfhearted one himself. She held in a

sigh as they continued to walk down the street, towards the Boston University Bridge. Scott's hands

were once again in his pockets. Steeling herself, Jean reached out and linked her arm around his elbow,

startling him.

“Come on,” said Jean. “I want to try something.”

Jean tugged at Scott's arm, beckoning him to follow her to the bridge.

“What would that be?”

“You'll see. Come on.”

“Okay.”

Jean and Scott walked up the bridge, arm in arm. When they reached the middle, Jean placed

her hands over the railing, looking out at the Charles River. Scott stood next to her, and, unknown to

her, spent a few seconds gazing at her hair.

“You know that problem I told you about?” asked Jean. “The one I've been having since that

day?”

“I remember.”

“I was thinking about it again. I've played it over and over again in my mind, but . . . . I just

can't figure it out, you know?.”

“I know what that's like. When you're trying to, like, figure something out, and then just . . . . I

don't know . . . .”

“Yeah.”

Scott put himself in the same position that she was, his hands over the railing. She glanced at

him quickly before speaking again.

“You were watching me when it happened. Could you make sense of it?”

Scott inhaled and did not respond for at least half a minute.

“No. No, I couldn't.”

Jean looked at him again and frowned as he stared out at the river. Closing her eyes, she turned

her head forward, before widening them in surprise upon hearing him speak.

“Did you feel anything?”

“What?”

“When it exploded, I mean,” said Scott, “Did you feel anything?”

It was Jean who now took some time before responding.

“I don't think so. I mean, before, when I was going up, I could feel so much at once. So many

emotions running through my head. Anger. Anguish. Fear. But most of all, I think . . . . I was sad. I

thought for sure that there was going to be nothing more. Then, it went all white, and the next thing I

know, I wake up and I see . . . .”

Jean and Scott looked at each other. For a long while, they lost track of time and simply stared.

Scott then reached his head forward, and nuzzled his face against hers. Their eyes closed, they rubbed

their cheeks together before Jean finally planted a quick kiss on his lips. Opening her eyes, she smiled

and looked forward again, seemingly rejuvenated.

“I want to try it.”

Scott raised an eyebrow.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“What changed?”

“You're here.”

Jean stepped up onto one of the railing's columns, standing as tall as she could. Closing her

eyes, she spread her arms out laterally. Scott clambered onto the column with her, and the small size of

the platform they were standing on forced their bodies together. Their breathing quickly became

synchronized as Scott's chest pressed against Jean's back.

Scott put his arms forward, grasping at Jean's hips. She let out the lightest of moans at his touch.

Taking a few more seconds to breathe, she then put her left foot forward, hanging it over the air, dozens

of metres above the water. Opening her eyes, she looked down and let out a small gasp. She then began

breathing faster, and Scott responded by placing his head on her shoulder.

“I've got you,” he whispered.

Jean leaned her head against his for a few seconds, closing her eyes again. She then stepped out

with her right leg. With both of her feet in the air, she breathed in one last time.

“Let go.”

Scott released his hold on Jean's hips. Cautiously pulling his hands back, he let his mouth hang

open upon seeing that she was floating in the air. After several seconds of levitation, Jean opened her

eyes and looked down. Grinning to herself, she then shouted with glee and did an aerial somersault.

She turned back and looked at Scott.

For the first time all day, he was smiling.

* * * *

Later that night, Jean and Scott were together in her room, laying on the bed. They were both in

their underwear, and were on their sides, facing each other. For a long time, they just stayed still,

holding hands.

“I'm sorry,” said Scott.

Jean opened her eyes.

“For what?”

“Being so . . . . distant.”

Jean weakly smiled.

“It's okay.”

“No, I, ugh.”

“What is it?”

“I mean, you've been so . . . . I don't know how to say this.”

“You don't have to.”

“No, I do. You've been so good to me, and I've just brushed you off too much. You, you don't

deserve that.”

“Maybe not, but I know you need your space. You don't deserve to feel overburdened, either.

Different people need different things. I get it.”

“Not tonight.”

Scott pushed himself closer to Jean, grabbing the back of her head.

“Tonight . . . . tonight, I want to share.”

“Scott . . . .”

Jean looked down for a few seconds before looking back at him.

“Last time we talked about this, you said you weren't ready. That we weren't ready.”

“I know. I've never let someone get this close.”

“Me neither.”

“But I trust you. I'm ready now. I know that . . . . I know that I'm not good at telling you how I

feel. I think I'd rather show you.”

Scott pulled Jean in for a kiss as she began pulling off her bra.