The X-Project

At the hospital in Seattle, Scott wakes up after his surgery, and Jean tells him where he is and what happened.


Jean hadn't moved in... quite a while. The surgery had gone off with no complications, and Scott would be fine they'd assured her, but that didn't stop her from watching over him, elbows propped on her knees and hands clasped in front of her mouth. Anyone watching her would have had trouble proving that she was even breathing but there was no one to see her sitting there, palely watching.

He felt... strange. It was the only word Scott could think of, when he was able to think again, muffled noises and antiseptic smells registering slowly on him. There was someone in the room, he realized, someone he could feel in his head, so it was Jean... but he couldn't open his eyes.

Jean felt the shift in his mind from the anesthesia fog to wakefulness and all but clung to his newly aware presence on the link. Bowing her head over her hands she took a few deep, shuddering breathes to fight back the tears which threatened, then stood up and moved to take his hand. #I love you.#

The whisper in his mind was shaky, upset-sounding, and Scott squeezed her hand, not entirely sure what had happened, or where he was. Love you too... he thought, just letting it sit at the top of his mind. Couldn't concentrate enough to project.

#We're in Seattle,# Jean sent, answering the uncertainty in his mind. #In a hospital...#

Seattle. He remembered. The riot... Scott frowned, or tried to, but the whole side of his face was numb, unmoving. ... I'm hurt? She had said hospital.

#You are.# There was a part of her that hesitated, that still thought that saying it would somehow make it real. But... It was real. This wasn't just some nightmare. #There was an explosion that shattered your visor and...# Her hand tightened on his convulsively. #The shards destroyed your left eye.#

He heard the words, but for what felt like forever, they didn't sink in. Explosion? he finally thought, and then twitched, shuddering, as he remembered suddenly. Something bright coming at him, and then a flash...

The monorail. It had happened at the monorail.

Jean just held onto him, wrapping her mental presence close around him as the memories began to return.

His chest felt tight, his breathing getting uneven despite his best efforts to keep it steady. My eye... just the one? Both were bandaged, he could feel it.

#Just the one. The other is wrapped up for the recovery, and for safety.# He would not be blind forever. That knowledge she gave him with all the certainty she had, knowing his terror of blindness.

... I didn't see it. Moved too slow... Too slow, and now he was really Cyclops. That was almost funny.

Jean closed her eyes, tears she couldn't fight back any more slipping from under her lashes. #It was not your fault, love.# If anything, she'd been the one who'd gotten distracted, lost track of the mob...

#No.# This time he did manage to project the thought, because she was blaming herself, he could feel it. And that wasn't allowed.

Jean nodded silently and pressed the guilt back, locking the feeling that she had let someone hurt him away from herself in the darkest part of her mind, away from the bright link and him.

Scott tried to concentrate, to take stock of his condition. Doesn't hurt so much... he thought a bit hesitantly. Numb, mostly.

#Good. I'm glad.# Jean pulled herself back to the moment, back to the business of taking care of him. #Here.# She tugged his hand to the edge of his bed, showing him where the button for the morphine drip was. #When the anesthesia wears off... Painkillers.# Because he would need them.

I have a button? Scott said, trying to make a joke of it for... some reason. He wasn't sure what. But he could feel how upset she was.

It was probably just as well he couldn't see the watery little smile, an expression which was more fear and worry than any smile had the right to be, especially when she knew he'd be fine. #No fair trying to take care of me,# she told him. #I've got all taking-care rights for the rest of the decade.#

It's okay... don't worry. It was the automatic response, but there wasn't much firmness behind it. He didn't feel well, he was beginning to realize as he woke up a little more. Anaesthetic... when was the last time he'd been under anaesthetic?

#Don't worry. Right. That's going to happen, love.# She squeezed his hand gently.

Scott laid there, trying to tell himself that no, he did not feel sick. Everyone else okay...? He should have asked that before now.

It was possible the unsettledness was a reaction to the anesthesia, but it was more likely his body was simply still in shock at what had happened. #Fine. Exhaustion and some minor bumps and scrapes.#

That's good... Trying to focus was getting harder. I'm tired... If she was okay and the team was okay, he could rest.

#I know, love. Rest now.# It was definitely time for him to stop worrying and let everybody else take care of things. And him.