Jean POV
My stomach turned as I strolled down a busy street with Scott, Kitty, and a de-transformed Piotr. It was Sunday, our only day off from the daily training and classes, and we mutants that could leave the mansion loved spending that time in town.
We typically caught a movie or visited a Park, but today, everyone was in the mood for a burger.
The thought of eating nearly made me barf.
I hated secrets and lying and felt crazy even entertaining what Dante was suggesting, but he'd never been wrong, EVER.
It's not only me who noticed it. Logan never corrected him when we were training, Piotr listened to him, Ilyana loved him, and his weird Devil's Eye revealed secrets he couldn't possibly know.
He could instantly tell what Part of Africa Storm was from just one look at her, and he knew that Logan had a Japanese wife once.
If I hadn't seen a more casual side of him, I'd be downright terrified of Dante, but after seeing the pain he'd gone through just to prove that the Professor had altered my mind somehow, I had to give him a chance, no matter how uncomfortable that made me feel.
He was also right about the presence of the Phoenix. Until now, I'd always chalked it up to another downside of being psychic, but recent events have convinced me otherwise.
My powers were growing as Dante said, and I was inclined to believe that the Phoenix was the cause of it.
The entire thing honestly sounded like the plot of a cheesy fantasy movie, but I couldn't ignore the time differential when we came out of Dante's realm or Dante's claim about the Proessor's brainwashing other mutants.
I didn't want to believe it… but the evidence was tallying up. A quick chat with Logan also backed up Dante's claim about the deal with the professor.
Provoking the Professor obviously wasn't the route I would've gone, but I was desperate to prove Dante wrong.
There had to be an explanation for everything that had happened, right?
If it meant going along with this, then that was what I had to do.
I couldn't afford to entertain the alternative.
"Something on your mind, Babe?" Scott asked. 'She's been different since her last spar with that asshole,' he thought.
"Just feeling a bit under the weather," I muttered, folding my arms. "Mind if I stop to make a call at a payphone?"
"Just use my cell." Scott offered. "I still got minutes on it." We came to a stop in front of a small Mom and Pop diner. I'd had my eye on the place before all of this started. Now, the thought of it made me want to hurl.
I shook my head. "I've got some change I need to get rid of anyway."
Scott frowned, and I sensed his dread. 'Could she be…No. Don't go there, Scott. She can hear you.'
I held his hand and forced a smile. "I'll only be a minute. I just need some time to myself."
Scott sensed my unease but let go anyway. He kissed me on the cheek.
"Alright, Babe."
He joined Piotr and Kitty, who had the sense not to comment on our relationship troubles, though their thoughts on it were not exactly a mystery.
Piotr thought 'I was changing,' and Kitty was jealous because 'I was getting hot and heavy with the new Beefcake.'
I resisted the urge to point out Dante was about five years too old for her. I found the nearest payphone and slipped my quarter in, dialing the phone number that Dante gave me.
I swallowed as the line connected and went to voice mail. "H–Hey, this is Je—Jemma calling for Donnie. I got your number from a guy I ran into at a party. He was a little drunk, but he swears you make the best IDs in the States. I need to…take a long vacation. Can you help me?"
My hands were shaking a little when I hung up.
'Vague enough to arouse interest but not obvious enough to clue in whoever came looking that they'd been lured here.'
I thought using his dead friend's name to set a trap was a bit cold, but Dante just shrugged and said, "he's dead. He might as well be useful."
By the time I made it to the diner, the knot in my stomach had grown even tighter. After the meal, Dante wanted me to pick up a few things at the convenience store, which made me nervous. Some rope, a ski mask, and some heavy-duty worker gloves.
I did as told, despite the weird looks I got from everyone. It didn't help much that I knew exactly what they thought the entire time we were at the store.
But I cared a lot more about the growing knot in my stomach than what they thought of me. I just wanted the entire thing to be over. Living in limbo was driving me insane.
—
I bit the inside of my cheek nervously as the second QUELLITRAX INVASION counted down.
11hr 56 minutes.
"Charles is cutting it really–"
And then I heard it.
"The professor wants you," Ororo said to Jean, who was sitting in the Den beside me, chewing her finger nervously.
"I don't know what you did," she started, "but I've never seen him so unsettled."
Jean opened her mouth but struggled with the words, so I held her hand.
"I'll walk you."
After raising a brow in my direction, Ororo picked up on the intimacy and went on about her business, thankfully. The walk up to Charles's office was tense, and I didn't need to be psychic to see that Jean was on edge.
Things tended to fly when Jean got like that, so I tried to wriggle a smile from her with a joke, which in hindsight, seemed in poor taste.
"You look like you're the one about to get your brain stir-fried by a telepath, not me."
Jean's face lost even more color. "This is not funny. Charles is like a father to me. He took me in after my parent's accident," she said weakly. "He's the only family I have left."
I froze.
I knew I was forgetting something crucial…
One of Jean's parents might've survived the freak accident that supposedly orphaned her.
The very same one that she had likely caused.
Crap.
I hadn't been sure about Jean's home situation, so I didn't ask.
Proving to Jean that Charles had lied to her would've proven much simpler if we'd just gone for a drive to her childhood home.
He would've been caught in an obvious lie he couldn't spin, yet I felt that route would've proven far more devastating in the long run.
The entire experience would've shattered her.
Learning that she not only caused one of her parents' deaths but that the surviving one was likely so afraid that they let Professor X have her.
Fuck me!
How the hell do I fucking spin this.