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Jul 29 08 11:10 PM
Scott was slightly less than an emotional wreck when he stumbled into his and Jean's suite. The Professor had helped, his compassion and understanding always helped. Though it was his
reason that Scott had clung to tonight; that had brought him back to himself out in the hall. At least as much as his
alcohol fogged mind would allow. But that was the problem, he simply couldn't think straight; he couldn't
squelch his emotions deep enough to keep them buried. They just kept rushing back at him. Sleep might help, if he could quiet his mind enough to actually drift off. Or, if he
dreamt, it might bring another type of hell altogether.
Shutting the door behind him, Scott made his way clumsily through the sitting room and into the bedroom. Jean was
there, sleeping soundly in their bed, wearing one of his button downs. She looked so peaceful lying there, in such
stark contrast to the scene he'd just left. Guilt shot through him at the sight of her, that he'd left her
after what they'd gone through that day. She was so beautiful and he was so dirty.
With the stench of alcohol and cigarettes on his breath, on his clothes. He wanted nothing more than to crawl
into bed next to her, but he was too filthy.
Disgusted, he toed off his boots and started peeling off his clothing, dropping the garments unceremoniously on the floor until he was down to only his boxer
briefs and glasses. He then picked up the soiled clothing and pushed them down deep into their hamper. Feeling slightly cleaner, he pulled an undershirt from his dresser and went into the bathroom.
There he scrubbed his mouth and gargled, trying to erase if not cover the stench. When he was finished, he
reentered the bedroom. He felt better, cleaner, but still couldn't bring himself to lie beside her. Instead, he chose the armchair in the corner, where he could sit and watch her sleep.
Jul 31 08 12:46 AM
Aug 3 08 9:13 PM
//OOC: You're post was excellent, Lizzy! //
The flutter of Jean's eyes was barely visible from where he sat; he'd almost missed it through the dim light of their bedroom. But the slight shake of her head was unmistakable, as was her sharp intake of breath as she reached out through their link.
He tried to block her out; he didn't want her to see how fucked-up he was.
He wasn't the telepath, however, and in his drunken state what mental shields he had were laughable. His
anger flared then, at the invasion of his privacy and his inability to keep her out. But it didn't last
long. It couldn't, not at the tears in her eyes that weren't visible across the room but that he could feel
through their link. Nor at the realization that this is where he wanted to be.
"Scott," she murmured softly. She looked up at him once more with a shaky smile, sat up on the bed, and opened her arms to him. "I'm glad
What had been so difficult only a scant few minutes ago was suddenly more than the easiest thing in the world. Her open
arms were like a beacon he couldn't resist and he quickly rose from the chair and crossed the room. Crawling into
their bed, he buried his head in her lap and wrapped his arms around her. The hard frame of his glasses dug into the
bridge of his nose and his temples and he wanted nothing more than to take them off, to rid himself of the barrier between the two of them. But he couldn't bring himself to pull away from her and get his sleeping band, and he wouldn't risk not having
it. The headache he'd been fighting most the night had dulled slightly, but his head still throbbed painfully.
Despite that pain, the tension and stress he'd been carrying faded at the warmth of her body and her smell, and he
relaxed into her. "I'm sorry," he mumbled into her. "I
wasn't thinking. I shouldn't have left."
Aug 10 08 12:58 PM
Sep 7 08 9:00 PM
Despite the headache, the tension and stress he'd been carrying faded at the warmth of her body and her
smell, and he relaxed into her, aided by the stroke of her hand through his hair. "I'm sorry," he mumbled
into her. "I wasn't thinking. I shouldn't have left."
"I have nothing to forgive you, Scott; you did what you needed to survive this day."
She placed a hand on either side of his head and gently pulled him from her. He resisted momentarily, unwilling to
leave her warmth, but ultimately gave in. Raising his head to meet her eyes, he pulled himself from her lap and sat
"And you know better than anyone except the Professor that I'm never really alone," she gave a wry smile as she tapped the fingertips of one hand
against her temple. "Once we were back in the Mansion, even with our
injuries, I could feel the contentment and peace of our daughter and the others, and I could deal with closing out the day."
"It's not the same," he muttered under his breath, not truly wanting her to hear.
"I could use their mental noise to drown it out for a while, get some distance. Perhaps Alex helped you do the same, in his way--and with our link perhaps
it was best that we both got some distance from it all before joining each other again."
He wanted to tell her she was wrong. That it hadn't been best, that Alex had made things so much worse.
But he didn't want to disrupt the peace they'd found, and he didn't want her to know about Alex.
At least not yet. So he nodded dumbly, agreeing simply to agree, so she
wouldn't pull away from him.
"And...I might, ah...be able to help some with the headache. Using my TP, I mean. To dull the pain a bit."
Scott pulled away slightly at her offer, and reached up to grip the hands that framed his head. "What do you
mean?" he asked, hating the wariness he could hear in his voice, but unable to stop it. He trusted Jean, more than
anyone. But there was so much he wanted to keep hidden tonight. Not only from
her, but from himself. The offer to relieve his pain was much appreciated and so generous considering how tired she
must be herself. But he could live with the pain, just as he did every day. But
he couldn't relive anything that had happened since they'd left that morning. Not tonight anyway.
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