Envisionings (2nd Edition) Part 18 💉🩸

A point of crisis . . .The hazy and muffled composition of the scene implying a flashback. . .

. . .a young girl laying sprawled on the road, a car and mangled bicycle in the distance suggestive of what happened. Beside her, another girl, unharmed, knelt desperately beside her friend. . .feeling her die. . .as though she were dying herself. . .

. . .We Ease-In to an Extreme Close-Up of this girl's terrified, tear-filled eyes. . and Ease-Out of the adult eyes of Jean Grey.

She closes them, shaking away the memory. Keeping some distance from it. . . .even as it's right before her; in the loved one dying now.

Jean's hand placed over his; still warm with the life that's now gone from the body. .

. .not yet cold and hard like the rock beneath it.

From the other side of the medical bed another, much older hand comes just into frame. Resting on the shoulder of the lost young man.

. . and like liquid our scene changes, as we hear an echoing thought in the voice of Scott Summers: 'Missed it. . . .What else am I missing. . ?'

. . .hazy instances of companionship between two brothers; brotherly love. . .times as they were; times how they could've been, but all the same, gone by. . .and times simply gone. . . .a final good-bye.

The scene goes out before our eyes like a light-

-and Scott awakes with one lingering thought: 'Missing.'

There's something noticeably quieter to his environment.

Noticeably still.

"No. . !" The truth of the dream setting in- Scott gets up to confirm-- stumbling with dizziness through the dark to where he knows his brother's bed was

--nothing there; nothing to brace -he falls-- ". .Lex-"

--into somebody's arms. There's no question whose. ". .I couldn't even say-" his voice breaks.

Jean: "-you did. That wasn't a dream."

Scott processes, held together by this even as he draws racked breaths. . . ."Did he feel anything?"

Jean speaks through her own emotion: "No. No pain."

They hold each other. . .though it isn't long before she has to let go: "Anyone could be next." She's spoken inexactly; unable or unwilling to state who is most likely to be; and knowing he knows as much as she does.

Helped back to his bed, Scott speaks their only saving grace: "The lack of light has to be working against my blasts. . .by then maybe they'll be extinguished. ."

Jean: "I'll come back when I can." She slides her hand from his.

The Danger Medical Bay had been programmed to simulate the sky in real time, so the occupants don't lose the sense of it. On this day, the rise of the sun does not equal any fresh start.

The light a burning orange as Xavier addresses everyone from the center of the space.

The "walls" of their individual environments having come down for this, so that everyone is at once in their own space and a shared one. . .everyone, except Scott.

"By now you are all aware of what's happened, and I know what's on your minds. . You can be assured that analysis shows your paths are very much individual. In other words, what happened to Alex Summers need not be taken as your eventualities. Drs. McCoy

and Grey are doing all they can to manufacture a cure, which will arrest the affects

of this. . contaminating mist. . Though I want to stay transparent with you: there is

much we do not know. We will continue to work with what we do to mark this death

as not the first, but the last."

A certain individual has been standing by. Xavier now gestures to him. "My friend, Kurt, will be available to you if you feel in need of spiritual guidance, or simply to talk, and he will continue to facilitate visits from your loved ones. If there is anything else, I am open to you."

And from this openness, we check in with the remaining soul in a closed room. . . While the darkness had to be preserved, the acoustics have been altered; Xavier's voice carrying as though no wall separates him from Scott, who in the privacy of the dark can find space for his feelings; an anguished breath heard.

Emotional pain entangling with physical, it's hard to say which battle he's currently fighting more. . .as we dip into his mind. . .

Flashback

Voice of Dr. Frost: "At a most vulnerable age you lost everyone you cared about ... that same moment would give you power yet take away your control of it ... from that point on, the force responsible for taking anyone away could be your own. It's little wonder then, how you took to feeling like whether someone lived or died came down to you ... Yet there are other forces at work, Scott. If there's anything useful to bring forward ... it's how you can't control everything. . .through no fault of your own."

Scott is stirred from these ruminations by a presence at his bedside, Xavier's voice now close at hand: "I am deeply sorry, my friend."

He lays a commiserating hand on Scott's.

Exiting the room, Xavier finds Colbur waiting in the surrounding shadows.

Colbur (unclear emotion): "Were you putting him in a psychic coma like you had Alex?"

Xavier: "Scott's optic blasts work through the conversion of absorbed photons. Our hope has been that the absence of such fuel will cause them to cease. Placing Scott in a coma would slow his metabolism which could in fact slow that depletion, potentially being to his detriment."

Colbur gives him a hard stare: "Was it to Alex's?"

Xavier considers his words: "Alex sustained serious internal damage the last time he willingly blasted. His powers differ. .differed enough from Scott's, that it was required we slow his functioning so the conversion process itself wouldn't bring about his end. If I'm being completely honest, there was already little we could do for him at that point." Xavier meets the young man's eyes. "I understand he meant very much to you, and I am sorry."

Control Bay

Ororo glances from the screens to the door as it opens for the Professor. "Despite the hope in your words, Charles, the course of things does not look promising."

Xavier: "No. And I sensed more than emotional pain in Colbur." He turns his attention to the screens. "What do the analyses show us?"

Ororo reverts attention likewise: "No longer are his powers only on the outside, his arteries seem to be literally hardening."

Xavier closes his eyes the length of a sigh; weighted down by the truth: "His mutation is less straightforward to counteract. . .Perhaps a resonant environment."

Ororo understands, shifting attention to the controls: "I will have the computer create a mock-up based on Colbur's frequency."

Xavier: "And I will do what I can." A steely resolution settles in his eyes. "Whoever has caused this must be made to account for their actions."

The day passes slow. . .

We see staff and students alike trying to preserve some normalcy, though the feeling

of such seems far off. . .focus on Summer lessons giving way to discussion of what's happening. The peace of students on break fractured; laughter proving to be only imagined as we find Holo perched in a tree, projecting determinedly to herself the image of two boys playing catch; an older one with sunglasses and brown hair, a younger one with blond. . .The imagining taking on a ghost-type image of the two boys as familiar looking adults, until one vanishes completely. . Holo staring into the emptied space like she doesn't know where to go with this. . .

. . .Jean and Hank conscientiously continue their round-the-clock, tag-team work ethic. . .

. . .while inside the Danger Medical Bay, it's a mixed scene as some seek "comfort"

in hunkering down in their own environments - Willow withdrawing beneath her covers except when her Mom is near; Alv refusing to open his door even to receive food -

while others seem driven towards connection - conversation struck up with "neighbours" as soon as a visiting friend has to leave; Graysen talking to Bobby as though an X-Man with ice powers has suddenly become his top topic of interest -- at least until the boy has to retreat to his molecularly stabilizing environment, as his disintegration powers suddenly spread beyond his hands -his clothes growing patchier by the second.

It's unclear whether Bobby wasn't minding Graysen's questioning or was just being patient, but what is clear now is his divided concern between the younger boy, and Colbur; crouched in the rock garden idly making balanced rock sculptures as though this "corner" of the room is the only place that exists. . .until things come crashing down--inadvertently drawing everyone's attention as the emotionally smoldering youth erupts with force and voice: "Why do other people ALWAYS see to MESSING US up?! We do NOTHING-- we could

do EVERYTHING and STILL!--!" he strikes another sculpture- the rocky laying of his arm also breaking away on impact, which gives him the idea to smash his other rocked-up

arm against the nearest surface.

Inside the Dark Room, Scott painfully stirs at the noise- dampened once again, but still perceivable. Whether hearing enough to know what's going on, or just sensing the tension, Scott shifts with the instinct to see to it- then shifts back with a sigh; knowing he can't.

Those who aren't trying to calm Colbur down are either tensely still; determined to block things out; or poised to join in lashing out. Shamefully aware of the stress he's exacerbating, the youth stalks off to his room; showing an affected gait.

Rogue and Bobby exchange troubled looks.

Further disruption averted. . .

. . .though there's no rest for the weary.

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We join back up with Jean Grey during a break. . . . . .and like a shadowed, ghost image, we see Scott in his environment, too.

Red behind closed eyelids, like when Amidst his fractured rest, you're facing the sun beyond them- Scott grows increasingly aware of pain- -Jean abruptly wakes. --new pain--wide awake now--

She rubs at her eyes as though pained, Groans precede removing of the compress mask beneath his ruby quartz one--more groans

as his try at a fix has resulted in worse--

through the pain, Jean acknowledges

how she'd shut the blinds in her room, --he actually slides the quartz mask up out of the way --sealing his eyes off from the world so if it isn't the sun. . . now with the heels of his hands --all the while It dawns on her with a sense of panic! whatever's going on is not abating-!

Control Bay

Jean comes in just as Hank is entering from the other door: "Hank?"

She doesn't need to verbalize the question further: "Scott's optic blasts were beginning to beat on his eyelids. I just provided him with the ruby quartz contact lenses I'd been manufacturing for such an eventuality -still crude but they'll do, and he hasn't suffered any true damage. Unfortunately I can't see what we can do once resistance fails in his eyes themselves."

Lab - much later

We see Jean using her telekinesis to discreetly bring something from the work desk behind her over to hers; avoiding waking the sleeping Beast.

She's just starting to look it over when the sound of the door brings her attention there. Her gaze landing on Logan.

His shifts over to Beast. "Isn't it your time to be catching up on that?"

Jean reverts most attention back to her work. "I figured he could use a little more if he's catching it like that. . .You're keeping tabs on our schedule?"

"You're not the only one who gets a sense of things whether you're lookin' to or not."

Jean pauses again, this time holding Logan's gaze. . .until she catches herself. "I really need to concentrate, Logan. So if there isn't anything else."

While she's turned her focus back elsewhere, Jean seems very aware of how Logan hasn't made a motion to move.

Logan: ". . .you know you don't have to feel like you're the one who has to find this antidote. Not like you're responsible for what happened."

Third pause. She feels the double meaning -not responsible for the cause, and not responsible for. . ."I still can't let what happened to Alex happen to Scott."

"So you run yourself down tryin'a work to his timeline?" He's stepped closer; speaks softer: "Look, I get it. But there are a lot more lives to consid--"

Jean meets him with a stubborn stare. "You don't get it, Logan. If I can figure this out in time to save Scott, that'll be in time for everyone."

The gaze is held silently for a beat; Logan looking past the stubbornness to the emotion behind Jean's eyes. She turns away -perhaps just in time to keep that emotion from bubbling over. "I respect your concern. . now if you'll excuse me."

This time, Logan does.

At the close of the door Jean draws a re-collecting breath. But she's barely back to her work when she hears another voice--this one at once closer and farther away: 'Jean. . .' She knows it's not an imagining this time.

Concerned for the worst, Jean goes to Scott.

Placing her hand on his upper arm, Jean questions what's wrong. He lifts his hand to take hold of her forearm, and for the first time the extent of what he's dealing with seems outwardly palpable. The cadence of his voice at the least indicative of fatigue.

"I felt. . ---- pain."

Jean's expression deepens with concern: "More pain?"

"Yours," Scott corrects, moving his hand to take hers; his touch not a gesture of needing comfort from her, but trying to provide it to her. ". . .You could never let me down."

"No matter what" isn't said, yet Jean feels the implication; closing her eyes to the emotion welling up.

She squeezes his hand- then pauses -eyes opening; unprepared for what he's just said: "We should say what we need to say. . . .I--"

As Scott can't presently see her reluctance, Jean makes a point of verbalizing: "-I don't think we need to be talking about this now, Scott," slipping her hand out of his to then hold it loosely over his fingers, as if her body is also communicating the need to hold back.

"Staring" in her direction, concern deepens in Scott's voice as it had in Jean's expression: "It could be dangerous for you to be there if it happens."

Feeling her hand squeeze his before moving away completely- "Jean," he insists gently. "Listen. . We've had this stronger connection ever since the reset procedure. Even with the higher point of your power gone, you sensed something happening with me from nearly 4000 miles away. How's it gon--"

Jean closes her eyes once more, as if cutting-off from this conversation, but if it has to be had: ". .so it likely won't matter. Where ever I am I'll feel it."

"Not if you close it off. Cut yourself off from me. ."

. . ."You should really be resting, Scott. And I should get back to work." She slips away.

^"Jean!"

Jean pauses at the door, looking back. Stopping short of saying she'll be back.

Back in the Lab, we follow the clock and see Jean's worked another 3/4s of an hour.

She removes her glasses to rub at her eyes, and her two most recent interactions prompt, in her overworked mind, a flashing-back. . .

Logan -appearing as he did in the flashback post-Jean's return: "I couldn't help noticin' you and Scott aren't back to sharin' a room."

Jean stares at him, mildly put-off: "Couldn't help that?"

Logan shrugs shamelessly: "I guess after seein' so much life, other worlds, he's finally lookin' a little too tame to y-"

"-That's not it, Logan.

I returned to try and move things forward. Not set people back."

"You actually think you'd be holding Scott back?"

"I didn't say I'd be holding him back."

Logan hesitates. "Well anyway," he speaks more soberly, "if you need any help moving on, I happen to know something about that. And culture shock. . ." Off Jean staring at him anew; that unrealized avenue look again, the flashback begins to fade. . .But we don't yet return to the present, even as present words echo "We should say what we need to say. . . ."

Second Flashback

Scott: ". . I've been thinkin' if I should go here. But the reset procedure affirmed it for me-" He looks up into her eyes. "I don't want things to be left unsaid."

He has her attention.

"This woman I've gotten to know-"

"-Scott, you don't have to explain that. I've been gone-" she shakes her head, "I'm not sure it's even right I came back. But I don't want to come between anything new any of you have found."

"It isn't like that. Colleen- she's helped me to understand everything. I used to say 'I love you' without truly knowing what I meant. . Now that you're here again," he closes the short distance between them. "Jean, I-"

Her step back halts him.

Jean: "I don't have a precedent for this, I may not be here indefinitely."

"That's precisely why I wanna' say this."

Jean looks at him squarely: ". . .I don't want you to be hurt, again."

"'Again' already happened," -Jean's look melts into concern and confusion- "-it would continue to happen if you weren't here because the loss never stops. I've learned how to tread it and it isn't a lesson I'll forget. I still love you with every breath, and if there's any more life to have with you, I want to experien-"

Jean (reluctant yet final): "-No."

Scott stares. For all he's prepared for, it wasn't to have her turn -figuratively- away.

Jean looks into his "eyes": "I'm sorry. . . .I still lov-" she stops, turning her head down and away; unsure if saying the words will make this harder.

His hand held down beside himself, Jean notices it fidget, as if Scott's wanting to do something- maybe take hers, but. . ."Still,"

Jean looks up, casting him a questioning stare, though he isn't being persistent. . "I'm still here if you need me." . .just something else he wants her to know.

We fade-transition out of the flashback to a moment of both closure and promise, as Jean tenderly takes his hand in the Dark Room.

Scott (groggily): ". . Jean. . ?"

"You're not dreaming."

We hear his persevering breaths, as he brings his thumb over her hand in a caress.

Jean: ". .It wasn't only you I was worried about. . I didn't want to break from you again.

. . .But I'd rather love too much. . .For as long as either of us have, I want you."

Something in these words and her voice seem to allay Scott's earlier fears. The last time they'd said goodbye, after all, it was she who knew how to let go. . .

. . He feels her other hand caress his cheek. . .her breath on his lips. .

. .he knows what he'll feel next. . . .

By the close of the kiss, Scott has turned his hand over to hold hers. Then he shifts, creating space enough on the bed for them to rest together. . . .