Shades of Red and Grey (X-Men Fic)

Part 1

As she opened the door, the hallway light streamed into their room and illuminated a small wedge of the wood floor. Stepping inside, she closed the door gently, trying not to disturb the man lying in the bed that occupied majority of the floor space. Not straying too far from where she stood, she stripped, removing the lab jacket, slacks, and red sweater she wore. They could easily be tidied in the morning – getting some sleep was her first priority.

Inching her way along the wall, she reached the bathroom. Only when the door was latched behind her did she risk turning on the lights. Exchanging a black bra for the oversized sleep shirt, she brushed her teeth and hair before putting herself back into darkness to join the man in bed.

He didn’t stir when she raised the flannel top sheet and thick comforter, gingerly slipping herself between the covers. Her space in the bed was warm as if he had spent some time lying there. Hair fanning against the soft pillow, she closed her eyes and concentrated on relaxing.

“Why didn’t you answer me?”

His sudden voice, lacking even the smallest hint of sleep grogginess, startled her. Reflected light from window above the bed glinted red briefly as he moved, and she realized he was on his side facing her.

“I thought you’d be asleep by now, Scott.”

“No.” He sighed. He was annoyed. “Jean, why didn’t you answer me?”

“Because.” It wasn’t an answer, but she was too tired to think up something different. She did feel bad for summarily closing the link, but he was being annoying and she was trying to concentrate.

“Jean.” Scott’s voice deepened, demanded. He moved, propping himself up on his elbow.

“Can we discuss this in the morning? Please?” Jean stifled a yawn. “I’ve had enough drama for one evening.”

“Fine.” Jilted, Scott flipped over, putting his back between them and tugged on the covers.

Releasing a deep sigh of her own, Jean rolled her eyes. She knew he’d act like it had never bothered him once dawn came, but it would still eat away internally. Even more so once he figured out what she had neglected to tell him. Reaching out between their bodies, Jean pressed her fingertips to his bare spine. He didn’t flinch or pull away, but he didn’t lean into them either.

“Scott, I’m sorry. But I was trying to concentrate. The badgering wasn’t—“

“I just asked you a simple question, Jean.” His voice reverberated through her fingers. “One that had a simple answer.”

“Logan and ‘Ro had a few of the older students in the Danger Room. Stuff got out of hand and they were injured.”

“What?” Scott rolled over so fast he nearly pinned her hand under his body. “Jean, why the hell were students in the Danger Room?”

“Logan thought it was a good idea to start—“

“Goddammit, Jean. He should know better.” Sitting up, he reached for the pair of glasses on the bedside table. “What the fuck was he thinking?”

“Scott, listen to me.” Her hand wrapped around his bicep was the only thing keeping from storming out of the room half-naked. “The kids are okay. Only minor injuries -- broken arm, a sprained wrist, and a mild concussion.”

“Shouldn’t have happened in the first place.” The glasses replaced the sleep pair he wore at night, their lenses glowing ruby red in the darkness. They illuminated the rest of his face enough that Jean could see the scowl drawn in stark relief over his mouth.

“Nothing worse than most kids get in normal childhood.”

“’Normal’ childhoods are something these kids’ll never have, Jean.” The words were barely a whisper forced between lips set in thin line. The bicep beneath her hand tensed to rock hardness in response and she knew she’d never be able to physically keep him sitting with her touch on his arm. Deciding to switch tactics, Jean sat up, and kneeled beside him.

No, but it’s our job to give them as much ‘normal’ as we possibly can.

Looking directly into the ruby quartz lenses, she saw the outline of his red eyes and slowly reestablished their mental link. Dark emotions swirled in the consciousness of his mind – anger, hate, pain; there was always so much pain. Jean reached out to the pain, and telepathically spoke directly to it.

I know you want to protect them from ever having to know how to defend themselves if the occasion arises, but you can’t, Scott. They need this training; it is as important to them as science or literature.

The pain endured by the little boy within screamed at her in frustration, but Scott, the man and her lover, understood. His face slowly lost the harsh edges and his muscles relaxed.

Jeannie, I know, but still....

Scott’s mental voice faded but the link didn’t collapse. “I just wish Logan had told me he was planning this little activity.”

“So you could argue with him over it until either you were gutted or he was pulverized?” She lifted a finger and tapped the nose bridge of his glasses with a fingernail. “He knew you would never condone it.”

“Still hate the fact he goes behind my back.” A small smirk traced his lips. Closing his eyes, Scott removed the glasses and put the sleeping shades back on. Small slits allowed him to see, but dampened the amount of energy glow the quartz allowed.

“Come on, Fearless,” Jean smoothed a hand over his cheek and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “Go back to bed. You can bawl him out in the morning.”

You promise?

His mental laughter trickled through the link as he settled onto his back, Jean’s arm draped across his bare chest.

Of course! I want front row seats.

****

The boy with the blood red eyes, eyes he was too afraid to expose to the world, sat amongst the trash in the alley. It smelled horrible in the corner he found; puke, piss, and God only knew what else. Somebody further down the alley coughed loudly and swore drunkenly. A bottle rolled across the pavement in the darkness and the boy shrank further into himself. Tears would come no longer despite his effort; he had none left to shed. And he knew she would come, somehow she always did, no matter what small little spot of shelter he managed to find. She took his pain, she took his sadness, and she took his anger. A flame-haired angel dressed in white showed him pictures in his mind; beautiful and soothing pictures in his mind as she wrapped angel wings around his malnourished body, keeping him warm through the night.