Returning Spring

From You Have I Been Absent (Returning Spring 1/10)

She wasn’t Jean. I was sure of that. Well, most of the time I felt sure. Sometimes I wondered a bit, I have to admit. There were moments when I doubted my own perceptions, and there were more of them as time went on. Everyone but Charles seemed perfectly willing to believe she was who she seemed to be. Still, nobody knew Jean as well as Charles and I did, and we both felt sure this wasn’t her. That had to mean something. Most of the time I thought it meant a lot.

Other times I’d worry about that. I’d wonder what it meant that it was just Charles and me. The whole school believed her story. They were all thrilled that she hadn’t died after all. Even ‘Ro believed what Not Jean said, and I wouldn’t have thought anyone could fool her.

Ororo had always been Jean’s best friend, aside from me. The first two women in the X-Men, they’d been close since their teen years. Jean and ‘Ro had drifted apart a bit during college, but pretty much picked up where they left off when Jean and I returned to Westchester. As Storm, ‘Ro was a key member of the team, as our history teacher a valued colleague in the school. I relied on her as my second-in-command on missions. She has saved my life more times than I can count. I’m full of admiration for her and consider her a close friend. But what she’d had with Jean had been much more – a kind of intimacy and closeness that I’ve never achieved with ‘Ro and a mutual understanding that rivaled what I had with Jean. And ‘Ro had no doubt – from that first day she walked in – that Jean had come back to us.

‘Ro wasn’t angry with me for denying Jean. She said she understood my doubts, that she thought my judgment was impaired by the shock. She told me that she thought I was just now managing to envision a life without Jean, after over a year of working to accept her death. Storm said, in that calm, reasonable way she has, that she thought it shook my world up too much to have all that change. ‘Ro said she thought I was too scared to believe in Jean, too frightened to trust in her and then maybe find out I was wrong. If that happened I’d be back where I started, trying to begin my grief work all over again.

Storm told me she believed with time I’d get over my fear and resistance and come to accept Jean for who she is. She told Jean – no, the woman who said she was Jean - that, too, and asked her to be patient with me. ‘Ro was wrong - I’m sure of it - but I was thankful for the approach she took. It made a volatile situation a little calmer, and it bought me time. The intruder being willing to wait a while for me to come around gave Charles and me breathing room. We had time to figure out what to do about this interloper who looked like Jean, sounded like Jean, and somehow had managed to learn so much of what Jean had known.

I thought a lot about what ‘Ro had said. Was I scared to believe in her? Scared that I would be in for a disappointment if she turned out to be an imposter? I guess that’s possible. More troublesome to me was the nagging feeling that I didn’t want this woman to be Jean, that I didn’t want Jean back. If Jean were really to come back, how would that affect Logan? How would that affect Logan and me?

What were we anyway? Friends? Fuck buddies? Or something more? Logan was pretty clear that he was never going to be interested in anything more and that kept me from thinking about him as more than a friend. Most of the time, anyway.

We had sex frequently; we spent a lot of time together. It was easy being with him, companionable. But not love. He wasn’t the type to fall in love.

Well, with me. Maybe with any man. For all he’d denied it, I felt pretty sure he’d been in love with Jean. I’d seen how he looked at her when he first came here, and how he’d looked at me when he realized she was mine. And I’d seen how shattered he was when she died. For a man who claimed never to have been in love, he’d done an awfully good imitation of heartbreak. Good enough that I’d seen it through the fog of my own grief and despair.

If this woman who came back were truly Jean, where would that leave me? Would that be the end of his interest in me, such as it was? Well, where did it leave me even if she weren’t Jean? If Logan believed she was Jean, did the truth matter?

I’d seen them together a few times, speaking earnestly in the teacher’s lounge or walking together on the grounds. Once I’d gone to Logan’s room at night and heard her voice as I was about to knock. It reminded me of the time I had walked in on them together when he’d first come here, when Jean was showing Logan where he’d be staying. That time I’d gone in and confronted him. This time I walked away.

Still, she wasn’t Jean and I at least knew it, even if she could fool him. I’d had an ongoing telepathic link with Jean for years. I felt the moment she died in a profound and intense way, felt suddenly alone in my brain. It was a loneliness so sudden, so compelling, so all-consuming that I can’t even begin to describe it.

The imposter wanted to establish the link I’d had with Jean. Reestablish, she said, but I knew better. I told her no, but she kept trying. Mostly I kept my mental shields up. Sometimes I let her in my brain briefly, just to verify again that she looked and sounded like Jean, but her telepathic presence was different.

It had been a shock when she walked into my Nineteenth Century American Literature class unannounced. A shock for me and the kids. And truly, that just goes to show she couldn’t really be Jean. Jean would have waited until I was alone to see me, not just barged in like that. She’d know that appearing without warning in front of a bunch of kids who thought she was dead would scare them half to death themselves. The Jean Grey I knew always put the students’ welfare first.

I didn’t even know she was there. As it happened, my back was turned when she walked in. We were doing Huck Finn, and the kids and I were all pretty absorbed in the discussion. I’d turned to write something on the board to illustrate my point, and missed her entrance.

It’s a tricky book to teach. Worth it, but problematic in some ways. I don’t believe in censorship, and I think it’s an important text for all sorts of reasons. Still, there’s no doubt it’s hard for all the kids, and especially the African American ones, to read a book that has the single most offensive name for Black people in our language on what feels like half the pages. It’s not easy to read that, and it affects all of us in many ways. In some ways, it constrains how we talk in class, what excerpts we read. Every teacher has to grapple with the whole question of just how to handle the language and many do opt out. Many schools have chosen to drop Huck Finn from their required reading lists, feeling that the kids can read it on their own, or in college.

I see that point of view but I can’t agree with it. It’s something we’ve discussed at length in our curriculum planning meetings. We all agree our kids would miss so much if they didn’t read Huck Finn as a class and read it at this point in their lives.

It’s an amazing novel. I read it yearly for class, but I think I’d read it often even if I weren’t teaching it. I get something new out of it every time. Over the years, I’ve gained a deeper understanding of the human capacity for love from Huck’s relationship with Jim. I’ve learned something about natural nobility and dignity from Jim’s character and something about how a truly good person is affected by an evil society from Huck’s. I’ve honed my sense of justice and fairness and even simple kindness by learning from them both.

I want the kids to get all that, and more, for it to be a book that they read again and again and gain deeper understandings each time, too. I want them to understand the society Twain wrote in. I want their history lessons to come alive because of what they learn from reading this book. My literature class and ‘Ro’s Nineteenth Century American History course are taught back-to-back, with the same students in both. ‘Ro and I always coordinate our assignments. Reading Huck Finn enhances and consolidates what she’s teaching them while her history lessons help give them a better understanding of the book.

It’s worthwhile for the history, for its importance in American literary history. I want the kids to understand its place in American literature and how influential Twain was on authors who are writing to this day. But first and foremost, I want them to read this book and read it right now because it’s a coming-of-age story. It’s a tale of what it means to be on the cusp of adulthood but not yet an adult. It’s the story of what happens when circumstances lead you to make big decisions for yourself while you’re still in large part a child. They need that now. No matter how many times they read it, there’s no substitute for reading Huck Finn at fourteen.

So, we read it, but we don’t gloss over what makes it hard to read. We handle the race issue right at the outset. I talk about the language and the milieu that Twain was writing in. I talk about the distinction between what the characters say and do and what the author believes. I talk about how a word that is shocking now was commonplace in Twain’s time.

I don’t downplay the impact. I tell the kids, truthfully, that I find it jarring every time I come across that word. I take a passage that uses it a few times and read it aloud to them, substituting “mutie.” The kids all flinch, and we talk about what that feels like. And we read essays for and against using Huck Finn in high school classes and talk at length about why we choose to read it here at Xavier’s. By covering all that at the beginning, I find that it’s not a nagging question throughout the unit, and we can talk about the book itself and the author’s intent without any lingering feeling that something important is being ignored.

On this particular day, we were talking about the scene where Huck decides not to turn Jim in, even though he believes saving him is evil. We reread the scene where he writes the note revealing Jim’s whereabouts and then tears it up, and talked about the feelings he experiences doing that. The kids were grappling with that ambiguity, as kids - and adults - have for well over a hundred years. Jubilee was disturbed by how at peace Huck is when he writes the note dooming Jim, how sure he is that he’s doing the right thing. “I mean, I know he doesn’t realize slavery is wrong,” she said. “He’s been taught that slaves are property.”

“And he’s been taught that property rights are of paramount importance. That’s how things are in his world,” I added, agreeing. “Remember, his father – the symbol of all that is wrong – steals things and tells Huck that’s okay, but Huck knows otherwise.”

“But Mr. Summers! Jim’s not a thing,” she countered. “He’s a person. Huck knows that. He truly does care about him, doesn’t he? So why does he feel good and think he’s doing the right thing when he’s going to turn him in? I mean, I know he’s conflicted, but he does say something about feeling good.” She found the passage in her book, saying, “Here it is: ‘I felt good and all washed clean of sin for the first time I had ever felt so in my life.’ How can he feel like that knowing what he’s doing?”

A couple of other students jumped in. Jamie pointed out that even though Huck feels good for a minute thinking he’s doing the right thing, he tears up the note. “So it’s not like he’s sure of it. It’s not like the good feeling lasts.”

“Well, there’s certainly internal conflict there,” I said.

“Do you mean he’s not sure he knows what’s right?” Jubilee asked.

“Could be. Or maybe he is sure, but he’s sure of two things at once, two contradictory things. His knowledge of right and wrong comes from what he’s been told and he believes it’s wrong to assist a runaway slave, that it’s stealing property. On the other hand, his inner sense of what’s right and wrong is different. Huck and Jim have a true bond that tells him that Jim isn’t property but a human being like himself.

“So, there’s a conflict between what he believes and what he feels, between what society wants him to do and what he wants to do as an individual. Twain said later that Huck was struggling with the conflict between a ‘sound heart’ and a ‘deformed conscience.’ Freud would have called it a conflict between the ego and the superego. The only way Huck can live with himself is to help Jim, but the only way he can understand what he’s doing is to see himself as doing something wrong.”

I turned to the board to write what Huck says next, when he tears up the note. I heard the classroom door open and close as I was writing “All right, then, I’ll go to hell,” but I thought one of the kids had just gone to the bathroom. So, I was perplexed to hear gasps. When I turned around, they were all looking at me with expressions of shock and fear.

No one was missing from the class, but there was one more person there, sitting in back. “Hi, Scott,” she said. “Did you miss me?”

She wasn’t Jean. I don’t care what anybody says, not even ‘Ro. If Jean came back, she’d never have done it like that.
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A Perhaps Hand (Returning Spring 2/10)

From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Mutant Protection Plan goes live!

It’s a small start, I know. Just one participant this time, although we expect to be able to resettle up to a couple of families at a time when we hit our stride. Most often I think they will be families, but I’m sending you a single individual this first time. Her name’s Angela Jenkins and she is the first mutant we will be attempting to resettle in a new location and with a new identity.

Starting small gives us a chance to all settle into the project and gives us time to clarify our roles. We have several potential MPP participants staying with us here in Westchester, so we’ll be able to expand fairly quickly, if all goes well with this initial resettlement. Of course, with our Vermont contingent consisting of two representatives each from Alpha Flight and the X-Men all ensconced in my house in Peru, a couple of FBI agents visiting part-time, and you as our psychiatric consultant, it may feel a little bit like overkill to Ms. Jenkins. I’m sure you will all be careful not to overwhelm her.

You’ll meet Ms. Jenkins tomorrow, Ethan, when my people bring her to your office. They traveled with her to Vermont yesterday and are helping her to get acclimated to her new surroundings. Her actual training in her new identity will not begin until later this week. We’re giving her a little time to just assimilate all that’s happened, as well as a chance to get accustomed to the Vermont weather. Ms. Jenkins has lived in the South all her life.

She’s 28 years old, single, and had been living until two years ago in Newport News, Virginia. Her gift is precognition. As you know, it’s a difficult gift for many to handle. Precogs often have difficulty distinguishing dreams or random thoughts from true visions of the future. Ms. Jenkins, however, does not seem to have that problem. Her predictions have always been accurate and she always seems to know her visions for what they are. Her form of the precognitive gift appears only to work for catastrophic events or serious danger, so she has not used her gift to acquire wealth, as have some precogs we’ve encountered.

Ms. Jenkins’s gift was helpful in her work as a paramedic. Her colleagues always knew they could count on her to assess whether a site was dangerous to enter or not. She managed to use her gift in her work for a long time without anyone suspecting that she was a mutant. I think she was generally viewed as someone particularly observant and adept at assessing danger. Unfortunately, she made the mistake of disclosing to a trusted coworker how she really managed to make those predictions. Paramedic teams work very closely under stressful conditions, and often form strong collegial bonds that can feel more intense than the average working relationships. I’ve seen that kind of thing happen with my X-Men as well, for similar reasons. Usually, it’s a very positive part of working in a close team, but it can lead to misjudgments, to trusting a colleague unwisely.

Ms. Jenkins was relieved when her colleague responded positively to her disclosure, and he promised to keep the information to himself. He didn’t keep that promise, however. Word traveled among her coworkers and then into the general community. She was subject to stares and name-calling over a period of months but hoped it would just blow over and the community would accept a mutant in their midst. Then her home was attacked by anti-mutant thugs. Luckily her gift warned her of impending disaster there, and she didn’t come home that night. Attempts to get law enforcement involved made clear that she could not safely remain in Newport News or environs. She did try moving – to Washington, DC – but her mutant status has become known again and we are convinced that she will need a new identity as well as a new home this time.

Accompanying Ms. Jenkins to Vermont are Scott Summers (code name “Cyclops”), whom you now know (after years of hearing me talk about him) and Kurt Wagner (code name “Nightcrawler”), a recent addition to the X-Men team. Two representatives from our affiliate team in Canada, Alpha Flight, will meet them in Peru: Jean-Paul “Northstar” Beaubier and Walter “Sasquatch” Langkowski. Ms. Jenkins will be resettling in Canada, in London, Ontario. Unlike my X-Men team, Alpha Flight is an agency of the federal government in Canada, and their representatives are working both with Canadian government agencies and the FBI to coordinate all international paperwork and procedures. Martin Kline and Alan Green will be the FBI contacts. I’m not sure that you will need to have direct contact with anyone but Cyclops, Nightcrawler and Ms. Jenkins, but perhaps you should meet the others.

I should probably warn you that Nightcrawler’s appearance is very distinctive. I know with your extensive experience with mutants this won’t present a problem to you, but you might wish to speak to your receptionist about him in advance. Perhaps you can have her arrange a private place for Scott and Kurt to wait to see you, rather than in a more public waiting room. Other than in your office, I don’t think this will be an issue. Kurt will spend most of his time at my house in Peru and he should be able to travel unnoticed to your office, given that it’s not unusual to be very covered up during March in Vermont.

We anticipate that Ms. Jenkins will spend about a month in Vermont, learning all about her new identity and home and undergoing some key changes to her appearance. As we discussed, I think it will be helpful for her to meet with you frequently during that time. My layman’s view – informed, however, by telepathically acquired information – is that she is in great need of your assistance. I’m concerned that Ms. Jenkins seems unable or unwilling to hide her gift effectively, and I worry that she will have trouble settling into her new identity. I had explored with her the possibility of joining the X-Men rather than living in hiding, but she’s quite adamant about wanting to live what she calls a normal life. I’m concerned that she not only seems traumatized by the violence she has endured but also appears not to be wholly reconciled to her gift, or to being a mutant. I’d appreciate any insights you have on how we can make the transition easier for her, as well as your thoughts on whether longer term therapy is advisable, once she’s settled in Canada. I’m assured by my contacts at Alpha Flight that a trustworthy therapist can be found for Ms. Jenkins in her new home. If she does continue in therapy there, I would ask that you consult with the new therapist.

Thanks again for participating in this important project.

Charles

**********************************************
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Reply to: Mutant Protection Plan goes live!

Hello, Charles. Thank you for the background information on Ms. Jenkins. It was helpful to know something about her before we met. We’ve had three sessions this week, and will continue to meet regularly as long as she is in Peru. She has waived doctor-patient confidentiality in order for me to tell you how she is progressing, and in my professional judgment she has given informed consent for this purpose. I trust to your discretion, but for the record I am saying now that it is essential that what I tell you of our sessions go no further.

I am writing complete case notes, which you may review at some point if you think that would be helpful. Here, I will just give you the highlights.

Angela Jenkins is an attractive and well-spoken young woman. Tall and graceful, with red hair and very pale skin, she appears younger than her 28 years and has a delicate and almost fragile appearance. She is in fact very strong physically and my medical examination found her in excellent health.

Ms. Jenkins does indeed seem to be, as you suggested, insufficiently reconciled to her gift, and to the fact of being a mutant. She has on more than one occasion revealed her mutant status unwisely and inappropriately, after resolving not to do so. She is quite sure that she wants to pass as normal, and rejects any options where she would live in a manner or a place where she could be open about being a mutant. Yet she also seems incapable of the kind of discretion required to hide in plain sight, so to speak.

I think she will need longer term therapy for a number of reasons and I will help her to find an appropriate therapist in her new home, when she is ready to move. One goal she herself has identified is to try to understand better why she has sabotaged herself in this manner. She would like to understand this so as to figure out how to avoid it happening again. I think that’s very important for her emotional and physical safety. Also, from a practical point of view, if all the effort that your people and the governments of two nations are putting into her resettlement is not to be undone, she will need to get a handle on this.

My initial impression is that some of Ms. Jenkins’s ambivalence is of the same character as that you and I have often discussed. Mutants often have very mixed feelings about their gifts. They enjoy having unusual talents and can profit from them in many ways, both psychic and practical. Yet they are also intensely aware of how reviled their class is in our society and have a difficult time applying a label to themselves they’ve previously only heard derisively. Ms. Jenkins told me that the first time she said aloud, “I am a mutant” she felt like she was standing at the edge of an abyss, with no choice but to step forward and fall into it.

It was a vivid way of describing emotions you and I both have heard expressed many times. Since most mutants grow to mid-teens or later before they come into their powers, they have internalized society’s anti-mutantism rather thoroughly by the time their gifts initially manifest. They are then faced with the rather daunting task of assimilating into their sense of self the almost archetypical otherness they associate with being a mutant.

For Angela Jenkins, though, there is another factor contributing to her ambivalence about her mutation, beyond the need to integrate her mutant status into her sense of self. Her gift itself is an ambiguous one. It’s very useful to her and has helped her to get out of dangerous situations on many occasions. On the other hand, it’s a frightening ability to know about catastrophic events in advance, and she has often known of great disasters she has no ability to prevent, leaving her with a feeling of helplessness. Ms. Jenkins has a sense of constant apprehension of calamity about her. I think working on ways to become more comfortable with the nature of her gift could be another goal of therapy.

I quite enjoyed seeing Scott Summers again, and meeting Mr. Wagner. I met with both of them to discuss the next phases of the MPP project, and they have been taking turns accompanying Ms. Jenkins to her sessions here. I understand that Mr. Wagner is staying on, while Scott returns to his teaching and Field Leader responsibilities. I have not yet met the Alpha Flight and FBI representatives, but was given to understand that I will shortly.

Scott and I had dinner last night, before he returned to Westchester. He’s both charming and intelligent, as you’ve always described. I’m impressed by his dedication and commitment to his work and to the project. We also had an enjoyable time discussing literature. His enthusiasm for the earlier Shakespearean sonnets rivals mine. I hope he’ll find his way back here soon as I very much enjoy his company. He does you proud, Charles.

Oh, Charles – one thing I meant to ask you. Angela Jenkins is quite frightened of staying in your home in Peru. She feels it is not adequately fortified and that there is no safe hiding place there. It’s something we can work on in therapy, and will. But to work with her effectively, I need to know if this is purely an irrational fear or if it has some basis in fact. Given the current use of the home, it does seem advisable to have some method for secreting your refugees in the house. I understand it was once a stop on the Underground Railroad. Is there somewhere that would make a good Panic Room there? Ms. Jenkins’s fears are an issue for therapy, but this particular concern may also be one that ought to be addressed in a more concrete way. What do you think?

Regards,

Ethan

**************************************************
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Reply to: Mutant Protection Plan goes live!

Thank you, Ethan, for your helpful and informative report. And thank you again for participating in this project. We couldn’t do it without you.

I found your insights into Ms. Jenkins’s character most illuminating. I think you are right that her insecurities and fears around her mutation are partly the usual ones we see and partly related to her specific mutation. My impression is that she sees herself as somewhat of a harbinger of doom, and that makes her emotional life an unsettling one.

As I mentioned, I had talked to her extensively about staying in Westchester and joining the X-Men. She considered it but ultimately rejected the offer. Quite telling, though, was her choice of codename if she did stay. Ms. Jenkins told me that she would want to be known as Cassandra.

I’m glad you enjoyed your dinner with Scott. He speaks very highly of you, as well. It’s very gratifying that two people for whom I have such warm feelings enjoy each other’s company. Scott is quite pleased with how the project is progressing and would have been happy to stay in Peru longer, but he is needed here. I’m sure he’ll be back there soon, for short trips.

I understand that Angela Jenkins’s fears are in part related to her trauma and emotional problems, but I’m glad you passed on her concern about a hiding place in the Vermont house. There really is not an effective one at this point, although as you say it was once a stop on the Underground Railroad. I think we ought to have a place more suitable to concealing someone in the twenty-first century than in the nineteenth. It’s really something I should have thought of myself, but it hadn’t occurred to me. The house has been used for field trips and vacations, primarily, and doesn’t have any of the fortifications we have here.

We did build a tunnel between the Blackbird’s landing spot and the attached garage, so that our participants can enter the house secretly. It’s possible that the tunnel itself could be fortified and turned into a panic room, of sorts. I’m not sure.

In any event, it is a good idea to take a fresh look at security in Peru. I’ll be sending another of my X-Men up to do just that. His name is Logan, code name Wolverine. Logan, like Kurt Wagner, is a fairly new addition to our team. He has extensive knowledge of design and construction and should be able to assess security and come up with suggestions for location of a panic room and any other necessary fortification. He’ll arrive there later this week.

Ethan, I’m assuming you have not heard our unsettling news from Scott or you would have mentioned it. Jean is back, or so it seems. A woman who claims to be her arrived about a month ago. She has a harrowing story of surviving the flood and being kept imprisoned by captors she never saw. The story is detailed and credible, her appearance is changed only as one would expect under the circumstances. Most of the team and students seem convinced that Jean Grey is back. Yet I am not. And I can’t really say why. I believe that this woman is an imposter. I don’t know how to prove that, or what to do about it. I don’t know why she is here or what she has planned. I think it will be a very good thing if we have a fortified place to retreat to, should it be necessary. At any time, but particularly when we do not know the intentions of this woman who looks so much like Jean.

Best wishes,

Charles
====================================================================

Outgrow the Garden (Returning Spring 3/10)

The MPP project team met weekly, on Sunday evenings, in Charles’s office. I’d only gotten back from Vermont late last night, so I was expecting to report on my experiences there as the first order of business.

I arrived for the meeting on time and found Charles and ‘Ro already settled in the seating area by the fireplace. ‘Ro was in the big leather armchair next to the couch, with Charles in his usual spot across from her, where the matching armchair would have gone, if he hadn’t left the place empty for his wheelchair. Logan and Hank hadn’t yet arrived. I sat down on the couch, figuring I could use the opportunity to catch up on what I’d missed during my absence. “How was subbing for me in Nineteenth Century American Literature, ‘Ro?” I asked.

Ororo and Charles exchanged glances. “I did sub the first week, but I couldn’t this past one.”

“That was my fault,” Charles interjected. “I always forget how much I rely on you until you’re away, Scott,” he added, with a smile. “I’m afraid I pulled Ororo away from both her classes and yours to be a substitute Field Leader this past week. A couple of missions came up unexpectedly. We can review them in detail at tomorrow’s team meeting, but it looks like we have a few more MPP participants lined up.”

“So what did you do? I know Hank’s been subbing in Kurt’s classes and he had a pretty full schedule already. As do you,” I added, nodding to Charles. “I can’t imagine you could take on ‘Ro’s classes and mine. So were they cancelled for the week?”

“No, that wasn’t necessary,” Charles said.

“Who subbed? I can’t see Logan teaching literature.”

“Jean stepped in,” ‘Ro replied. “She’s been taking some of my classes when I’ve had conflicts,” she added, “and she was kind enough to offer to take yours, as well, this past week. She said it was easy to do. She was reminiscing about all the time the three of us spent in your room discussing and arguing and working out details for those companion history/English classes. Jean says she spent so much time on the lesson plans when we were developing them that she’s sure she knows all your lectures pretty much by heart.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. From things she had said to me and others, I knew that the imposter did have enough of Jean’s memories that what ‘Ro said was credible. Yet, I didn’t think this evidence that she was Jean, and I wondered if I should make that clear to ‘Ro. Or should I just let it go? She already knew that I disagreed with her. At any rate, I was saved from responding by the entrance of Hank and Logan. Hank apologized profusely for their tardiness, in a characteristically verbose and sesquipedalian manner. Logan said nothing. “Now that we’re all here,” Charles interrupted, as Hank’s explanation of their lateness went into the third paragraph, “why don’t we begin by hearing from Scott how things are going in Peru?”

I was about to answer, but was stopped by the door to the office opening again. She walked in. Slowly, confidently, she strolled over to the seating area, pausing by the fire to warm her hands, just like I’d seen Jean do a thousand times. Looking directly at me, with Jean’s loving and intimate smile, she sat down on the couch. She settled there, between Logan and me. Turning to him, she leaned over and whispered something in his ear. I found myself wondering what she was saying to him, and couldn’t help but notice her hand resting on Logan’s leg as she spoke. I looked away.

“We weren’t expecting you...Jean,” Charles said mildly, the slight pause before her name noticeable to all in the room.

“I guess not, since you didn’t tell me about the meeting,” Jean replied, with a smile. “Telepathy comes in handy.”

“I’m sure it does, but this isn’t your meeting,” I said. It came out more hostile than I’d intended, but she didn’t seem to mind. She looked at me with an amused smile, her hand still on Logan’s thigh, but didn’t answer. Logan shifted a little, uncomfortably. Was it her touch or my comment that bothered him? I couldn’t tell.

Hank turned to Jean. “You’re an exemplary and invaluable addition to any undertaking, Jean,” he said. “However, it would be disruptive and disorderly and engender labyrinthine consequences to include an additional constituent project participant at this late phase in the development of the preparations.”

“I’m afraid Hank’s right,” Charles interjected. “We appreciate your interest, but the MPP doesn’t need anyone else on the project right now.”

“I just want to be helpful.” The tone was Jean’s – sincere about wanting to help, but business-like, careful not to let the hurt at being left out show.

“Of course you do.” Charles smiled at her. “Why don’t we talk later? I’d be glad to review our ongoing projects and make some suggestions for where you’d be most useful. I’m sure there are plenty of ways you can help.” His smile faded, but his eyes remained locked on hers. Nothing happened for a minute and then she rose, slowly, and turned towards the door. It opened, and she walked through.

Charles waited until the door closed, and then began the meeting as if there had been no interruption. “Let’s start with a status report,” he said, turning towards me and switching to the brisk, no-nonsense voice he uses when talking team business.

“Sure. Okay, as you know, we decided to start by training and resettling Angela Jenkins. Nightcrawler and I took her up to the house in Peru, and we met Northstar and Sasquatch there. Our two FBI reps, Martin Kline and Alan Green, joined us shortly thereafter. Ms. Jenkins has been kept pretty busy between learning her new identity and her sessions with Ethan Leeds. Our team up there hasn’t had a lot to occupy us, though,” I added with a rueful smile. “Maybe it was kind of overkill to have so many of us for just one MPP participant. Jean-Paul, Walter and I have been keeping ourselves busy doing repairs around the house in Peru. Kurt’s happily absorbed in his bible studies. But the FBI guys are kind of climbing the walls. I think they just aren’t happy unless they can arrest somebody or shoot somebody.” They all laughed at that last part.

“How is Angela adjusting?” ‘Ro asked, adding, “I miss her. I spent a lot of time with her during and after the rescue mission.”

“She misses you, too,” I assured her. “I’m not quite sure what to say about her adjustment. She’s pretty gung ho and really working at assimilating the new identity and learning a lot about her new home – London, Ontario. She corrects any of us who slip and call her ‘Angela’ and seems to be developing a solid identity as Cassandra. Still...”

“Still what? What’s with her?” Logan sounded impatient.

“Well, I’m just not totally convinced she’s ready. Or even that we’ll know when she is. Maybe I’m just anxious since she’s our first. We’ve never done this before and can’t really know what the patterns of recovery are. I’m trying to keep that in mind. Still, I find myself wondering how Cassandra will seem to people she meets in her new home and new life. And, well, I’m worried she’ll *appear* traumatized, that new acquaintances will feel like there’s something wrong with her.”

“I believe you should consider the possibility that Ms. Jenkins appears traumatized in your perspective of her persona due to your superior acquaintance with the trauma that led to her having been accepted into the MPP program initially.”

“I’m sure that’s part of it, Hank. I see it because I’m looking for it. It’s hard for me to know what she’ll seem like to a stranger. I also think she just opens up more to us, so we’re going to be more aware of problems.” I thought about that a little more. “But her behavior is a little strange sometimes, and it concerns me. For one thing, she’s obsessed about security in the house in Peru. Did Ethan talk to you about that, Charles? He said he would discuss it with you.”

“Yes, he did. What’s your take on it? Do you think we need to improve security?”

I shrugged. “It couldn’t hurt. I’m not sure how much of an issue it really is, but certainly we could benefit from a security review.” I thought about it a little more. “Yeah, I think we ought to have one, if only to see if Angela relaxes when we do. Her idea of a panic room is not a bad one. But, really, I think there are limits to how fortified we can make the Peru house. It’s not ever going to be as secure as the school here.” Looking around and remembering, vividly, the events of a little over a year ago, I added, “And with all our fortifications here, we were unable to withstand a siege. In Peru, we’re relying for security mostly on not letting what we’re doing there be known.”

“I agree that there are limits,” Charles interjected. “On the other hand, I think we do need to do a comprehensive security review. There are different security needs for a ski house and the location of a project like this. I also agree with you that it’s worthwhile to do for the peace of mind of our MPP participants – now and in the future.”

“I anticipated you’d feel like that,” I told him. “I talked to Martin Kline about the possibility of doing a security review. He said they could recommend consultants. I assume they’re reliable – and confidential – if they come with an FBI recommendation.”

“Perhaps, but I don’t want outsiders involved.” He turned towards Logan. “I want you to go up there and see what needs to be done. And what’s feasible. You can enlist the help of the staff up there – ours, Alpha Flight’s and the FBI agents. It sounds like they’re not being overtaxed at the moment, from what Cyclops says. And if you need additional assistance or materials you can’t purchase in the area, just call and let me know.”

Logan nodded his assent. “I’m not buying any materials up there that don’t look like simple home repair stuff,” he added. “I’m with Scott – we’re safer there if nobody knows what we’re doing. I don’t want anyone figuring out we’re fortifying the place. I’ll work out some way to get materials we need.”

********************************************************

It was late and I was trying to finish grading papers before I went to bed, but I wasn’t getting anywhere with them. I was seated at the desk in the study alcove of my bedroom, all the papers that had been turned in while I was gone in two piles. The graded pile was dwarfed by the ungraded one, I noticed with a sigh.

I kept trying, but couldn’t get my mind off of Logan. I’d been trying to keep my feelings in check, to remind myself that I had no claim on him. This relationship – such as it was – was a casual one and nothing more. But knowing that wasn’t stopping me from thinking about him, from wondering where he was and what he was doing.

Where had he gone after the meeting? I’d intended to talk to him, to ask him if he wanted to get together later tonight, but ‘Ro had collared me to talk about one of the missions she’d handled in my absence. By the time we were done, he was gone. Had he left to meet the woman who claimed to be Jean? I’d looked in vain for Logan in the Danger Room and the pool, and then had come back here to finish grading.

Not that I was getting very far. I realized I’d read the same paragraph for the third time and still didn’t know what it said – or even which class it was for. Should I give up on grading for the night? No one but me expected that I’d be caught up the first day back from a mission, I knew. A knock on the door was a welcome distraction.

Logan walked in before I had a chance to answer. “Hi,” he said and smiled at me. His hand brushed my shoulder as he walked by me and sat down in the armchair next to my desk.

“Hi back. What’s up?”

“I’m feeling horny. You wanna fuck?”

I wanted to ask him where he’d been, what she’d said to him in the meeting, had he met her afterwards. I didn’t say any of that. “Yeah, sure,” I answered, deliberately casual. “I’m getting nowhere with grading these, anyway. Sex would make a nice change.” I wasn’t sure I meant it, but it seemed like the thing to say. We sat there for a minute, looking at each other. I still had my red pencil in hand, student paper in front of me.

Logan got up and stood behind me. I felt his fingers on my shoulders and neck, the heat of his presence so close to me. He massaged me with strong, firm movements. “You’re tense. Tight.”

“I thought you like tight.”

He chuckled a little. “Yeah, I like a nice, tight ass. But I think you need to relax a little or we’re not gonna get to that point. Come over to the bed,” he added. “I’ll help you loosen up.”

So, I did. I pulled off my shirt and lay down prone on top of the bed. “There’s some of that massage oil in the nightstand drawer,” I reminded him.

He got it out and put some on his hands, then got on top of me, straddling me on the bed. He began rubbing my back and shoulders, the oil on his hands warm, his strokes relaxing and exciting me at the same time. “What is this stuff anyway?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Some concoction of ‘Ro’s. Something herbal. It’s supposed to help me relax. She thinks I’m too tense. It feels good – warm. Your hands feel great, Logan,” I added as he moved lower down on my back. He bent down and kissed the back of my neck briefly. I could feel him hard, pressed against me, as he did.

As he sat up again, I heard the familiar Snikt sound of claws extending. I stayed very still, with some effort, as Logan sliced my pants and pulled them off of me. Then he was rubbing and kneading my cheeks, and I couldn’t stay still. I was moving with him and breathing hard. “Do you think this stuff would work for lube?” he asked.

“Sure, why not? Yeah, that feels good,” I added, feeling his finger stroking my crack, sliding into the opening. I pushed back to meet his hand. “I won’t tell ‘Ro we used it for other than its intended purpose.”

I heard him unzip his pants. I reached behind to feel his cock for a minute, big and hard in my hand. “Get up on your knees,” he told me, reaching for the massage oil again. I complied, resting my head and arms on the bed, my ass in the air, legs slightly spread. “You look good like that,” he said, with that husky voice that tells me he’s really hot. “It makes my cock twitch just to see you there, all ready for me.”

He moved to kneel between my legs, and started pushing in slowly, kind of humming as he did. He was in all the way. I could feel his balls pressed against me and his big dick filling me up. An involuntary moan escaped. “You okay?” he asked.

“More than okay,” I answered. “I want you moving in me. I want you to fuck me now.” And he did, sliding in and out slowly, rhythmically, kneeling behind me like that. I pushed back, moving with him, driving his cock all the way in me with each stroke.

We got into a good rhythm together, going a little faster now. Logan was breathing hard, sweating hard. I could feel his whole body trembling a bit. He seemed to be having trouble keeping his balance as he fucked me harder and faster. Leaning down now, he pressed against my back, anchoring himself. The trembling stopped. He still had all his clothes on and I could feel his shirt soaked with sweat, pressed against my naked back. He was lying on top of me, pushed hard against me as he pumped into my hole, his adamantium-laced body heavy on me.

I braced myself with one arm and reached with the other to stroke myself, but Logan pulled my hand away. “No,” he said, putting my hand back on the bed and pausing in his movements, his cock shoved all the way inside. He licked the back of my neck and added, “I want to do that.” And he did, holding my hard cock in that large and sensitive hand, resuming fucking me, moving up and down the shaft with each stroke inside me.

I couldn’t get over how good it all felt. He was breathing hard in my ear, whispering something in a language I didn’t understand. I didn’t know what he was saying, but it sounded great. His hand was making me move and moan and stretch to push against him, trying to get more of what he was giving me any way I could. The weight of the metal inside him made it hard to move, hard to push back, but it was worth the effort it took. His dick inside me felt like the perfect tool, like it was designed just to give me pleasure. “I’m going to…” I tried to tell him, but came before I’d even finished the sentence.

The hand that had been on my cock moved to my hip now. Logan got back up on his knees and held me by both hips, moving me to the position he wanted me in. He fucked me harder and harder, the bed creaking with his exertions, as I continued to move with him. Animal-like growls and groans mixed with words of pleasure and lust punctuated his movements. And then he pushed in hard as his orgasm overtook him, lying against my back again, full on me, as his cum pumped into me. “Thanks,” he said when it was over, pulling out of me and lying down on his back. “You okay?” he asked again, looking at me as I stretched a little. I nodded. “Adamantium’s heavy,” he added.

“Tell me about it.” I lay down close to him, one arm across his chest. “It’s the first thing I noticed about you. I couldn’t believe how heavy you were when I pulled you away from that burning van. Of course, I didn’t realize it was adamantium then. I guess I thought it was just muscle.” I unbuttoned a couple of buttons on his shirt and slid my hand inside, wanting the skin-to-skin contact. I kissed him on the mouth, deep and slow. “I like the metal in you. The weight of it,” I added. “You feel...substantial. Strong.”

“You’re strong, too.” His hand cupped my ass, stroking lazily as he spoke. “I never did anybody who could take the full weight of me like that. Not that I can remember, anyway.”

“That’s why you need me. I can take it.”

“You can take it all, alright,” he said with a chuckle. “I don’t have to hold back with you. And you give as good as you get. You’re a great fuck, Cyclops.” I felt warmed by the compliment, crude as it was.

“I’m moving down the hall from you,” Logan said after a while.

“That room you had when you first were here? I thought that was going to be a dorm room for upper classmen.”

“It is. Nah, the one next to it, by the storage room.”

“That room used to *be* a storage room. It’s tiny and windowless. Don’t move there.” Logan shrugged. “Why don’t you move in here instead?” Logan narrowed his eyes. “What?” I said, feeling like I’d gone too far, trying to get back on track. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m proposing or something. This is practically a two-room suite, with the alcove and all. I’ve felt guilty occupying it all by myself. There’s room for two, that’s all. And you’re here more than half the time, anyway.”

“That’s okay.” I didn’t say anything and Logan added, “I mean thanks and all. But I need a room of my own. I know I’m here a lot. I like being with you. The sex is real good, you’re good to hang out with. But, sometimes I’ve got to be by myself. If I don’t want to kill anyone in the night, that is. You know, when things get bad...” His voice trailed off.

“Do what you want,” I said, shrugging. After a minute, I added, trying for a light tone, “I think you’re better off being with somebody when things are bad. What happened with Rogue – well, it’s because she came in when you were in the middle of the nightmare and didn’t know what to expect or what to do. I’m not some kid who doesn’t know what the deal is with you. I’ve stopped the dreams plenty of times, you know. I know how to wake you at the beginning.”

“You’ve been a big help with the nightmares. I said thanks. I still want my own room – even if it used to be a broom closet or whatever.”

Neither of us said anything for a while. “Why are you moving, anyway?” I asked him after a few minutes.

“Now that Jeannie’s staying, she’s not gonna be in the professor’s guest room anymore.”

“So she’s taking your room? Just like that?”

“I offered. It’s right next to her office and near the lab. And she was here before me.”

“No, she wasn’t.” I shook my head emphatically. “She’s not Jean.”

Logan shrugged. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

“I’m sure.”

“Look, you know her better than I do, but still. She looks like Jean. She sounds like Jean. She smells like Jean. She knows stuff only Jean could know.”

“And she’s got a pretty convincing story, I know. She could fool almost anybody. Maybe she’s fooled you, but not me. She doesn’t *feel* like Jean.” Logan looked at me questioningly. “In my brain, I mean.”

“I don’t even know what that means.”

“I know. And I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s real.”

“What happened to her – it could’ve changed her. You, too. Time passes, things happen. You’re not quite the same person you were last year. Even I can see that, and I don’t have the history. Plus, I’ve been here with you. You and Jeannie haven’t seen each other. You thought she was dead. It’s got to feel strange seeing her again.”

“It’s none of that. Don’t think I haven’t thought of all that. And more. I’ve asked myself if maybe I don’t *want* her to be Jean, don’t want that complexity in my life, don’t want to have to tell her it can’t be like it used to for us. I’ve beaten myself up about that one.” I waited for Logan to answer, but when there was no reply I continued. “If she were Jean I’d have to be dealing with all that. It would be hard, I’m sure, but I would deal with it. She’s not Jean.” I paused again. “Charles agrees with me, and he doesn’t have my motivations for self-deception.”

“He wants anything that makes you happy.”

“Not at Jean’s expense. If that were really Jean – if there were a chance she’s really Jean – he’d be overjoyed to have her back. You have no idea how close they were.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I have no idea about any of it. I’m the outsider looking in. I didn’t grow up in this insane asylum like you did, and I don’t understand half of what goes on here.” His voice was getting louder and sounding angrier as he spoke. “I’m not pretending I do. But what I do see is everyone else convinced it’s Jeannie. A Jean who’s been through hell and shows the scars of that, who isn’t the woman you remember, okay, but who would be? Makes sense to me she’d have changed – changed how she thinks, how she reacts, how she feels in your fucking brain, whatever that means. It’s just you and the professor who doubt her, and I’m thinking you’re wrong.”

Neither of us said anything for a few minutes. “She wanted me to have sex with her.” I said it tentatively, not looking at Logan, wondering how he’d react.

“I figured.” After a minute, he added “Me, too.”

“I said no,” I told him, turning to face him.

Logan looked right back at me. “I said yes.”

“I figured.”

“It was just the once,” Logan added.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

A long pause. “Are you leaving soon?”

“Yeah. Probably tomorrow. Maybe the next day.” I didn’t reply. “Can I take your bike?” he added. I nodded. “Thanks,” Logan said.

“Not much point in saying no. You’d take it anyway.” I turned towards the wall, back to him.

Logan didn’t say anything more. He didn’t touch me either. He zipped up, got up, and left. He closed the door hard, but not hard enough to really have slammed it.

===============================================================

Glad and Sorry Seasons (Returning Spring 4/10)

I didn’t plan on talking about me. I don’t know why I did. That’s not what I was there for. The Professor’s orders were clear and I’d agreed to follow them. When I say I’ll do something, I do it.

I knew my mission in Vermont. I was going to figure out just how safe that house really is. See what I had to do to take an old ski house and turn it into a fortress that still looks like an old ski house. Use the men there however I needed them – Nightcrawler, the Alpha Flight guys, the G-Men. Get whatever I needed without anyone in the town of Peru knowing what was going on. And report to Leeds on my mission and any progress. The Professor said to meet with the doctor once right at the beginning to tell him what the security weaknesses were, and again once I figured out what I was going to do about them. As many other times as he wanted me to come and report. Give him whatever information he wanted, keep him in the loop.

Now why a shrink needed to know about fortifying that house is beyond me, but it’s what the Professor wanted, so it’s what I was doing. I headed off to the shrink’s office the second day I was there. Like I said, I wasn’t going there to talk about me and what was going on in my head.

So why did I tell him all that? There was a lot of stuff bugging me, mostly this whole thing with Scott, but that’s no reason. I know how to keep quiet about stuff that’s bugging me.

I didn’t see Scott at all after that night in his room. I left two days later without talking to him. Said goodbye to Marie and the rest of them, but not Scott. I thought of going to talk to him, to ask him about arrangements for my classes while I was gone, but the Professor told me ‘Ro was taking them. So, there wasn’t anything I really needed to talk to Scott about, and he didn’t come looking for me at night like he usually did. I did try to go see him once before I went. The night before I left I was going to his room, but before I even got close I could hear Jean’s voice. She was talking to him in there and I didn’t want to know what they were saying. I turned around and left.

I almost didn’t take his bike after all, but I figured he said I could and I might as well. Rode all the way up to Vermont on it, cursing the guy I borrowed it from. And then rode it over to Bellows Falls to see Dr. Ethan Leeds, just like my orders said.

I don’t think Leeds did anything to make me talk, or if he did, I don’t know how. He’s not a mutant, so it wasn’t mind control. And he didn’t try to worm it out of me or anything. Hey, I probably would have clammed up if he did. I hate it when people get nosy. But he wasn’t nosy. Just... interested. He just listened. Asked questions sometimes, but only about what I was already telling him. Nah, it’s nothing he did, not that I could tell. There’s something about him that just makes you want to talk.

I don’t even know how it started, really. Somehow I went from talking about fortifying that house to talking about me. I told him about the nightmares, the amnesia. Maybe that’s how it started – telling him about the damage I’d done to the room I’d stayed in the first time I’d come to Peru, when Scott and me were digging the tunnel. I told him how the wall near the bed was all busted up because of the nightmares. And said I’d fix that while I was doing the fortifications. So, then he asks me how often that happens to me in the night and have I ever hurt anyone. And I tell him about Marie and how scared I am I’ll kill somebody when I’m like that, somebody I don’t want to kill.

So that leads to me talking about how Scott started helping me when we were at the house in Peru together, how he used to listen for me moaning or crying and then woke me up when he heard me. I told him what a relief that was, how I’d feel like I was a prisoner in this dream and couldn’t get out, and then Scott would come and spring me. I told him I wished for so long that I could do *something* to make it stop, but I never thought there’d be anybody helping me. So, Leeds asks how long I’ve had nightmares and I tell him the truth – that I don’t know how long because I can’t remember anything except the last 15 years. I told him I don’t know where I’m from, don’t know how old I am, don’t even know what my name really is.

He didn’t act like that was crazy or anything, and he didn’t fall all over himself saying how sorry he is or how hard it must be. He just seemed interested, wanted to know more. And I don’t know why, but I wanted to tell him. So before I knew it, there I was, telling Leeds about waking up in the woods all those years ago and not knowing who I was or what I was. I told him about how I kept trying to kill myself any which way I could, but nothing worked. And then all about living on my own for so long - moving around, trying to find out what I could about myself for a while there. Then just giving up on that. Living any way I could manage as long as I didn’t have to stay in one place - cage fighting some of the time. No family, no friends, no ties. There was close to a year when I never said a word to another human being. Lots of years when I didn’t even feel like a human being. I never told anybody some of that stuff before, but here I was telling this old doctor with that listening expression.

And then I told him how all that changed. How I’d found Marie, or she’d found me, I guess. Which had led to me getting all mixed up with the X-Men. How the longer I was with the X-Men the more I realized that I had feelings I didn’t understand, didn’t want to know about. I’d left to find out about my past and how I got to be this way. Or maybe I’d left because I didn’t want to find out some stuff about myself, some stuff I was getting too close to finding out by staying there in Westchester.

But I’d come back. I’m not even sure why now. For Jean? For something else? I didn’t even have time to figure that out. I was hardly back when I got thrown right in the middle of a fucking siege. Nobody had time to think, not me, not any of them. It was all kill or be killed, all survival. And trying to get those kids out alive. Trying to get the ones they took back.

Stryker. I told him about Stryker, too, about how he knew me as soon as he saw me. I didn’t know him. I started shaking all over when I told Leeds that part, same way I do with the nightmares. I tried to stop it, not wanting to do that in front of him, but I couldn’t stop as long as I was talking about Stryker. And I didn’t want to stop telling him. My claws came out, too, without me trying, when I told him about Stryker looking at me like that, how he called me an animal. I’d been feeling like I really was human, like there might be a place for me with the X-Men, but when he called me that it felt like it was all over. Like even though I hated his guts for saying it, I knew he was right. He was telling the real truth about me. Yeah, my whole body was just trembling all over, claws extended, while I told him that.

That never happened in front of anybody before, not the shaking or the claws. Well, nobody except Scott and it’s okay when I’m with him. It feels safe when I’m with Scott. But somehow it was okay with Leeds, too. He was just so calm about the whole thing. Leeds acted like there was nothing strange about it, like he saw bodies shaking all over and adamantium claws all the time.

And maybe that’s why I kept talking. He has this sort of way about him. Patient and listening and interested, but not surprised by anything. Like nothing could shock him, like you could tell him anything and he’d just ask a few questions and listen to you tell him more.

So, yeah I kept talking. Told him what I thought they’d done to me. How I think some of the dreams are real, parts of them, anyway. I think some of it is really memories of how they took me apart and put me back together and somehow even though I can’t remember it during the day it comes out when I’m sleeping.

I told him about people I’d killed and people I wish I’d killed. About the whole battle against Stryker, too. How I found out some stuff, found out that Stryker had been part of it, whatever the fuck “it” was. Whatever they’d done that turned me into what I am. Put the metal in and took my memory away. Turned me into an animal that could only kill or be killed. And that sometimes I feel like that’s all I am, but sometimes I think I’m still human.

I told him how it was after we got back to Westchester, after we left Jean there, Scott trying to stop her, trying to make her come with us. I’d come back there looking for Jean but then I found out she wasn’t what I was looking for. Told him about what happened after we thought she died. About me and Scott and how we’d gone from hating each other’s guts to being friends. I told him we’d been having sex, too, and how that helped me. Helped with the nightmares, but not just that. How being with Scott made me feel more human, too. Close to somebody.

And then I told him about Jean coming back and Scott not believing in her and me not knowing what to think about that. I told him about all my confused feelings about Jean and Scott. I told him how Scott and me had had a fight. Sort of. Well, I’d left there mad at him and he seemed mad at me, too. And how I hated feeling like that. That being friends with Scott had been the best part of being at Xavier’s and how pissed off I was now with things bad between him and me. Mad at Scott, at Jean, at myself, too, maybe. Wondering why it bothered me so much. Not sure even what I was mad about.

I can’t say I felt any less confused from talking to him. But I felt something. Better. Calmer. Like just saying what was going on was worth it, even if I don’t understand it all.

“Have you talked to Scott since you got here?” he asked.

I shook my head. “He called once, but I was out. Kurt told me he called.”

“But you didn’t call him back?”

“He can call again if he wants to talk.” I stopped to think about what I’d said. “I think about him all the time,” I said. “I don’t like that.”

Leeds laughed. “So why don’t you call him?”

“What would I say?”

“What do you want to say?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you want him to say?”

See what I mean? I wasn’t going to say anymore, but then he asks a question like that and it gets me thinking. And talking.

“I want him to say that he knows I wouldn’t take his bike without him saying it’s okay. Not now that we’re friends. I want him to say he believes me that I’m not doing Jean anymore. I told him I did her, didn’t I? So, if I tell him I’m not gonna do it with her again, he should know I’m saying the truth. I want him to tell me if it bothers him that me and her did it. And not just that, but why it bothers him, if it does. You know? Is it because of her or because of me? I want him to say he still wants me.” I didn’t know I was going to say that last part until I said it. Didn’t even know I was thinking it.

“Are you worried that he doesn’t want you anymore?” I shrugged. “Do you think that might be something you could talk to Scott about? Could you tell him what you want to hear from him?”

I didn’t have an answer to that one, either.

=====================================================================

Changing Everything Carefully (Returning Spring 5/10)

I started by talking with ‘Ro. I wanted to begin with Scott, but it didn’t seem like a good idea until I’d paved the way more. It just about broke my heart to see how he looked at me any time we were together. Well, of course, I couldn’t actually see how he looked at me. Through a glass darkly was still the only way he could see. But I could see him avoiding me whenever he could and when he couldn’t avoid looking my way, I could feel some of what he was feeling. Scott was keeping his mental shields up all the time now, but strong emotions leaked through. His feelings when he looked at me were very strong – a mixture of hostile mistrust and confusion.

Occasionally I’d catch a whiff of guilt, too. I wasn’t sure what that was about. Maybe this thing with Logan. I wish I knew what to make of that. Was it a diversion, just a physical thing, or something more serious? And not that it really matters who it is, but I have to admit it bugs me a bit that it’s Logan he chose. Why did it have to be someone who had been interested in me? Well, interested in the person I was, the Jean that Scott loved and lost. Did Scott’s interest in Logan have something to do with trying to get over that loss? Was it connected to his mistrust towards me? Was he trying to keep Logan away from me? And just what was Logan getting out of this? I tried to penetrate Scott’s shields, just a little, to understand better what he was feeling and thinking. I knew if I tried hard enough he’d realize what I was doing, but I thought if I could just sneak in, well, no harm done. No go. I don’t think I ever remember him being so defended.

So, I knew I had an uphill battle convincing them all, but Scott would be the hardest. Even ‘Ro, who had welcomed me with open arms and without reservations, was starting to question, so I thought I should work on reassuring her. I don’t think she knew I was picking up her doubts, and she certainly was still behaving towards me as a true and loyal friend, but behind the warm smile and calm demeanor was a mind full of questions and contradictory feelings. She wasn’t doubtful enough to put her shields up, so I could clearly hear the questions in her mind. She’d watch me interacting with Scott or Charles or Logan and think “Jean doesn’t sound like herself.”

That wasn’t all doubt. It was partly sympathy for me, partly concern for what she saw as changes in my personality. But in the back of her mind was a growing sense that maybe I didn’t sound like myself because I was really someone else. I didn’t want her thinking that. It was bad enough that Scott already did. I was counting on ‘Ro to help me convince him. I needed to do a little convincing of her to make that work.

I didn’t tell ‘Ro I knew what she was thinking. I didn’t want to embarrass her or make her feel like I was invading her privacy. If I had done that, she might have put up her shields, too, and I felt it was important to know what she was thinking. Still, without letting on that I had heard her doubts, I tried to reassure her whenever I could and however I could. I did it mostly by talking about how I didn’t feel like myself, didn’t feel back to normal yet. I told her that I was hoping that familiar surroundings and a loving community were all the healing help I needed, but that I wasn’t sure.

“Work is the best therapy,” I told ‘Ro one afternoon, as I helped her in the vegetable garden. On our knees, weeding. The calendar said it was the tail end of winter, but a warm March sun and a gentle breeze felt like spring.

“Suffer them now and they’ll outgrow the garden,” she’d said, enticing me to join her. I told her she sounded like Scott, always quoting Shakespeare.

“That’s one reason why I want to get involved in the MPP and other projects,” I told her, pulling a particularly persistent weed. “It will help me recover. I’m not doing enough here.”

“You’re planning to talk to Charles about that, aren’t you? I’m sure there’s plenty for you to do.”

“Yes, I have an appointment with him for later today. I think I can do more in the Medical Department, for a start.”

“You’ve been so gracious about Hank becoming Medical Director while you were... gone, Jean. I’m sure you can work something out with Charles and Hank. Nobody wants to supplant you.” She paused and added, “And when you’re ready, maybe you can work at the clinic in Yonkers again.”

“Yes, I want to, although I’m not sure how to pave the way, you know? Charles told them I died. I hear the staff there were all at the memorial service. I don’t want to just show up there unannounced. I realize now it was a bad idea to do that here.”

“Talk to Charles. He can explain to them. If you want to go back, that is.”

“I do. I want to do whatever I can to be useful. It’s when I feel most... normal or something, when I’m working. Still, I don’t know if it’s enough. I’m wondering if I could benefit from some counseling.”

“I think it’s a good idea,” she answered, looking at me. “You’ve been through a most difficult time. We’ll do all we can for you, but perhaps a professional therapist can help you make sense of it in ways you can’t on your own and offer support and expertise that we just don’t have.”

I sighed. “I know I should but the whole idea just seems so overwhelming. Finding a mutant-friendly therapist, and then having to tell my whole life story. I haven’t done that for so long. And the thing about life-stories is they keep getting longer and more complicated as time goes on.”

Ro laughed at that. “I know what you mean. It could take a few 50-minute hours just to explain the X-Men.”

“It feels daunting. I’m a doctor and a teacher and a mutant superhero – talk about trying to have it all.” She chuckled at that, too. “So, we’ll start off with the therapist thinking I’ve got all the typical problems of a childless 33-year-old woman, magnified. And then on top of all the career stuff, I’ve got to tell him about Scott and me. I know an awful lot of people will think a marriage to someone like him is just doomed. It’s not the kind of relationship that many people can understand, and it’s not easy to explain how it really works for us. Worked anyway, and I hope will again. I hope we’ll be able to get married. And then once I go through all that I have to explain about Logan, too.” I paused a minute to see if she’d ask what I meant, but she didn’t, so I went on. “Then I’d need to tell him about the mission to find Kurt and the whole siege on the school and the battle against Stryker. All that before I get to what I really need to talk about.” I could feel tears well up in my eyes and my voice begin to crack.

Storm put down her tools. She touched my arm as I continued. “Deciding that the only way to save everybody else was to die there, thinking that was the end for me. And then finding out I wasn’t going to die – at least not just yet – but living as a prisoner. What they did to me. What it did to me to be so alone, so frightened, so totally devoid of hope. All the times I wished I could die, wished it were just over. How terrified I was to try to hope that I’d ever get back here. How I truly believed that everything would be okay if only I could go home. And then coming home and wondering if Thomas Wolfe was right.”

“Do you think you could go back to Dr. Leeds?” she asked, then answered her own question. “No, he’s too far away, I guess.”

The sobs overtook me and ‘Ro put her arms around me, saying I didn’t have to talk about it anymore if I didn’t want to. “I do want to talk. I don’t want to burden you, though.”

“You’re not burdening me. I’m your friend, Jean. You can talk to me any time."

“I appreciate that, really I do.” I paused, swallowed hard, and tried to pull myself together. “You’ve been great, ‘Ro, really. Everybody has. But I feel so... defensive sometimes, so short-tempered, so afraid of rejection. I know how hard it was for everyone when I came back, how it must have felt like I was a ghost or something. I realize I made mistakes now. But I was so excited to be free and I guess I was just expecting that everyone would be thrilled to have me back.” I worked to get the bitterness out of my voice. “So it was such a let down. And I think it makes me too pushy or something and that just drives people away. It’s like a vicious circle or something. I can’t talk to Scott; I can barely talk to Charles and Hank. Sometimes, ‘Ro, I think you’re the only one who really listens to me, who really believes me and believes in me. Sometimes I don’t even believe in myself.” I felt her doubts slipping away, but I thought it best to cry a little longer, just to be sure.

***********************************

“Dr. Jean Grey.”

“Oh! Wrong number.”

“Logan?”

“Yeah. Sorry, I guess I dialed the wrong extension. I was trying to reach Scott.”

“No, you dialed the right number. I’m in his office.”

“Oh. Well, tell him to call me back when he’s free.”

“Actually, he’s not here. He’s out on a mission.”

“What’re you doing in his office?”

“Just looking over some of his class notes. In case I need to sub for him.”

“How long is he gonna be gone?”

“I’m not sure. Charles thought it would just be a few hours.”

“So why do you need to sub?”

“I just thought I should be prepared, in case the mission lasts longer. I know you’re new to this, Logan. But we often have missions that start off as just a few hours and become much more complicated. Stick around for a while, and you’ll see.”

“I’ll call him tomorrow.”

“I’ll tell Scott you called. I’ll see him as soon as he gets back... I’m sure he’s eager to hear how things are going with the MPP. How’s your security review coming along? Will you be home soon? I really want to see you, to talk to you.”

“Just tell Scott I called.”

*************************************************

When two telepaths talk, usually the conversation is multi-layered and complex. There’s the spoken conversation, but it’s punctuated and enhanced by telepathy. The words are only one little part of what’s conveyed, with thoughts and emotions adding texture and meaning to make something that’s greater than the sum of the parts. When you’re accustomed to that kind of conversation, a speech-only one feels flat.

Charles Xavier and I were having a flat conversation. And a formal one. He was seated behind his big wooden desk, not in front of the fireplace with the comfortable seating area. I was on the other side of that large, heavy barrier. Even discounting the lack of telepathy, he wasn’t speaking to me like someone he’d known for close to two decades, someone he’d guided and taught. And loved. He was talking in a friendly, helpful way, but as one would to a stranger. He was also studiously avoiding saying my name.

“I’m glad we have this opportunity to talk,” he said. “I was pleased to hear you say you feel ready to take on more work.”

“I really want to, Charles,” I replied, trying to convey my enthusiasm through tone and reflecting again on how inferior speech is to telepathy. Still, we both had our reasons for keeping our mental shields in place. “I’m helping Hank out as much as he needs, and I’m always happy to sub when teachers are away. But I feel like a bit of a fifth wheel or something. The X-Men seem to be sufficient unto themselves, without me, like you filled in the hole or something. I feel... superfluous, I guess.” I paused, hoping he would reassure me that I was needed, but when he didn’t say anything I continued. “So that’s why I thought this MPP project would be a good fit. It’s new, and you’re still working on staffing it. I thought my skills and my powers could be helpful. I felt left out, and left out of something I could make a contribution to. I am sorry I barged into the meeting, though. That wasn’t the way to make my point.”

“That’s okay. You’ve made your point now and we can forget the other time. I do think you have something to offer the project. I’d like for you to go up to Vermont. You can meet with the Alpha Flight representatives and the FBI and try to figure out what the best way for you to contribute is. Northstar and Sasquatch are there now. You remember them from joint Alpha Flight/X-Men missions, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course,” I answered, worried a little that I said it too quickly. “And Logan’s there, too, right?”

“Yes, but he’ll be returning before you go up.”

“Oh. How come?”

“We’re trying to provide the X-Men staffing contingent on a rotating basis. Once Logan has the security review complete and the work on fortifications has begun, I’ll need him back here. You can help with some of the security renovations, I imagine. Telekinesis is helpful in that sort of situation. And your telekinetic powers are much stronger lately, aren’t they?” He asked it in his usual calm and open manner, but somehow I felt there was a note of suspicion in the question.

“Yes,” I answered. “Remarkably so. I used to be able to only lift items telekinetically that I could lift with my hands, but now... I find I can lift objects that weigh thousands of pounds.”

“Yes, I heard you had lifted one of the cars in the garage yesterday.”

“Ah, Bobby must have told you. Yes, he seemed surprised when he walked in and I had a car over my head.”

“What exactly were you doing with it? Bobby seemed to think you were doing some... repairs or something.”

“No, not really. Just seeing how much I remembered of what Scott had taught me about auto mechanics.” I smiled, and added, “Without getting myself all dirty, rolling under the car.”

“I see. Well, I don’t know that there will be any need to lift cars up in Vermont, but I imagine ability to lift heavy equipment could come in handy during the security renovations. Jean-Paul will be directing the work and I’m sure he can make good use of your powers.”

“So maybe I should go up before Logan comes back, and he can show me what has been done and what work is still in progress?”

“I think Jean-Paul can handle the transition. We’ll plan on you going next Wednesday, after Logan’s return. I may want you to escort a family up there – new participants in the program. If so, I’ll send Storm with you. It all depends on whether they are ready to embark on their journey of new identity yet. I think it will be helpful to have on site medical staff, too. Ethan has certainly been a help, of course.”

“Ethan?”

“Ethan Leeds. You knew he was up there, didn’t you? He’s in Bellows Falls.”

“Yes, of course. I just forgot.”

“He’s an essential member of the MPP team, offering psychiatric services to our MPP participants and also doing a physical exam and evaluation and making referrals as needed. But Ethan never practiced general medicine and it would be a good idea to have a physician involved other than him.” He hesitated. “You also might benefit from consulting with him yourself. You’ve been through a great deal of trauma and change. We discussed therapeutic support for you when you first... returned, but you said you weren’t ready yet. What do you think about that now? Certainly, you couldn’t do better than Ethan.”

“Oh I don’t know.” I was not eager to go into therapy and explained - as I had to ‘Ro – how daunting the prospect of telling my whole life story would be.

“But that’s why I’m suggesting Ethan. You wouldn’t have to start from scratch with him. And he’d be so happy to see you. Again.” The last word hung in the air.

===================================================================

As With Your Shadow (Returning Spring, 6/10)

“Logan? It’s Scott.”

“Hi.”

“How’s it going up there?”

“Not bad.”

“Charles said you wanted me to call you.”

“Jean didn’t tell you I called?”

“Uh no. When did you talk to her?”

“The other night. She said you were out on a mission.”

“Oh yeah. A false alarm, as it turned out. We got a report of what sure sounded like Sabretooth and Toad, terrorizing a town in Dutchess County. I thought Magneto’s Brotherhood was back in business.”

“It wasn’t them?”

“It wasn’t anyone. A fake distress call. There was definitely a mutant presence in the town – Charles saw that much on Cerebro before we headed up there – but nothing was happening by the time we showed up. There was nothing going on at all that we could see. We went to the house the call had come from. The people who lived there had no idea what we were talking about. I went back the next day with Charles, so he could interview them. He verified telepathically that they weren’t lying. They were genuinely puzzled, quite sure no one had called from their home. I don’t know what to make of it... Anyway, how’s your mission coming?”

“Pretty good. Security review is done, so is the design for the panic room and other new security measures. We’ve got all the materials and electronics. Construction is coming along. It should be all done in another week or two. I was gonna stay until it’s finished but the Professor had other ideas.”

“Yeah, he told me he was bringing you home. Can they finish up without you?”

“Sure. Jean-Paul can be foreman. He knows what he’s doing. And he’s got plenty of help here.”

“Has working with Kurt been okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. A hard worker and he gets places fast – places the rest of us can’t get to. So, that’s really useful. The bible stuff gets a little hard to take after a while, but...”

“I can imagine... Logan? I’m glad you’re coming back here. We miss you... I miss you... Shit. I shouldn’t have said that, should I?”

“Nah, it’s fine.”

“I don’t want to sound like I think this thing is more than it is. I just... I’m not even sure what happened the other night, but it didn’t feel good. I don’t want you mad at me.”

“I’m not mad anymore.”

“I want to see you.”

“I want to see you, too. There’s stuff I need to talk to you about.”

“Do you want to talk now?”

“No. Not easy stuff to say. Face-to-face is better. Maybe easier after sex... We still doing it?”

“Yes. I want to. I want you, Logan.”

“It makes my dick hard when you say that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Where are you?”

“In my bedroom.”

“The same one you had when we were in Vermont together?”

“Uh huh. I’m sitting here remembering doing it with you. Right here. In this bed.”

“Me, too. I wish I were there with you.”

“What would you do?”

“Oh, lots of stuff.”

“Tell me.”

“I want to suck you off.”

“Do you?”

“Um hmm. I remember the first time I ever did. I couldn’t believe my luck when you said you wanted me to. I thought I’d better hurry up and get started before you changed your mind... Don’t laugh, I mean it. Anyway, I think I’d go slower if I were there now.”

“Why?”

“I just want to take my time. I’d get on the bed with you, kiss you. You’re a great kisser. I can almost feel it now. Your mouth against mine, pushing your tongue in. My hands in your hair.”

“Where are my hands?”

“On my ass, I think. Yeah. One on each cheek. Pushing me against you. I can feel you hard, pressed against me. Can you feel it?”

“Yeah, Scott. It feels real good. Keep going.”

“Okay. Um, let me think. Okay, I’m all pressed against you, moving a little so my cock rubs against yours. It feels good, but the clothes are in the way. So, I take my hands off of your head. I’m still kissing you, but now I’m unzipping you while I do. I’m pulling out your cock, all big and hard. I’m playing with it. Go ahead, Logan. Take it out. Let your hand be mine, just for a little while.”

“Okay, I’m doing that. You’re rubbing me with those long fingers of yours. I love what you do to my cock with your hand. I can’t get enough of it. But I want your mouth, too.”

“Good, because that’s what I want, too. I want your dick in my mouth. I’ve been so hungry for you, I’ve been thinking about it all the time. Sit on the side of the bed now. I’m getting down on my knees on the floor. I’m still rubbing you with my hand, but I’m kissing your cock, too. Licking the head. Oh, you taste so good, Logan. I can almost taste you just remembering, I swear. And now I’m taking it in my mouth. I want to suck on your meat. You’re filling up my mouth. I’m sucking you really deep. All the way in.”

“Oh yeah. Swallow it, Scott. Take it all. I want it push it all the way down, in your hot mouth and down your throat. I want to feel you sucking me, sliding in and out like that.”

“That’s what I’m doing. In and out. Sucking you good. You’re big and hard and I can feel that vein on the underside with my tongue, pulsing, throbbing. I’ve got my hand on your balls. They’re getting tight, you’re about to come. I can hear it in the noises you’re making, too. I want your cum, Logan. I want it all. Pump it into me. I want it in my mouth and my throat. Give it to me. Come on... Come on... Give me that hot cum...”

“Oh, Scott!”

“You came, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. Real good. Thanks. It didn’t feel like I was just jerking off. It seemed like something else, almost like we were doing something together.”

“We can do that for real when you’re back here.”

“And lots more. There’s lots of stuff I wanna do with you, too. I’m glad I’m coming back.”

“Me, too. For sex and more. Sometimes I feel like I have nobody to talk to here, nobody to bounce ideas off of... Logan?”

“Yeah?”

“What do you think of our false alarm mission the other night? What do you think it means?”

“I don’t know... You’re sure the call was coming from upstate?”

“Yeah, we checked. It definitely came from the phone in that house, the one I went to, but the people there had no knowledge of it.”

“Were they mutants? Did they have a connection with Xavier’s or with the X-Men?”

“No. Normals, and no previous contact with us.”

“So how did they know to call you, anyway?”

“I don’t know. Whoever it was who called had a story about getting our number from a Xavier’s alumnus, but it turned out to be bogus. He asked for me by name. It sounded credible at the time, particularly with the descriptions of the attackers sounding just like Magneto’s people. But now that we know it was all made up, well why? Why send the X-Men on a wild goose chase?”

“Was it the whole team?”

“No, just me and ‘Ro. I was ready to call in reinforcements if needed.”

“And whoever called knew something about the X-Men, knew enough to call and ask for you. Knew you’re Field Leader?”

“Yes, definitely. That’s how he asked for me – ‘Is this Scott Summers, Field Leader of the X-Men?’ But I didn’t think anything of that. I mean the kids all know our command structure. If one of our alumni had passed on the phone number, well it’s not surprising he’d know I’m Field Leader, is it?”

“No, that’s not where I’m going.”

“So, what then?”

“Well, whoever is behind this would likely know you’d drop what you were doing and head up there as soon as you heard that story. So, what were you doing? Something someone might want to stop you from finishing?”

“No, nothing important. Just grading papers. Nobody but the kids who were afraid of getting bad grades would want to interrupt that. I think this is a bit too elaborate a stratagem to avoid failing English!”

“Okay, then the other possibility is – who wanted you out of the way that night? What went on at the mansion while you were gone? Something that you would have known about and stopped if you’d been there.”

“Nothing that I know of. Nothing unusual. Although if someone wanted me out of the way to do something, it might not be something that shows... Logan, you said you talked to Jean that night? Where was she when you called her?”

“I didn’t call her. I was calling you. She answered the phone in your office.”

***********************************

“Ethan?”

“Charles! Good to hear from you. Thanks for returning my call. How are you?”

“Very well, and you?”

“Fine, fine. Charles, Logan told me he’s going back to Westchester and Jean’s coming up here. I was surprised to hear that. What’s going on?”

“She’s interested in the MPP project and looking for a way to make a contribution. I thought it would be a good idea for her to spend a little time in Vermont and see if there’s some way she can participate in the project.”

“What’s really going on?”

“There’s no fooling you, Ethan.”

“Why would you want to?”

“I don’t, really. I was going to explain my true purpose. Ethan, I’m more and more convinced this isn’t really Jean. I don’t know what to do. I want you to meet her, see what you think.”

“I’m happy to do that. I want to help any way I can.”

“She doesn’t remember you. I’m quite sure of it. She tried to cover up, but your name meant nothing to her. That’s proof.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. I certainly like to think I’m memorable, but...”

“You were a huge influence on Jean, Ethan, at an extraordinarily difficult time in her life. You truly saved her.”

“I’m afraid it was you who did that, my friend. But, anyway, I don’t think that means she’d remember me.”

“Why ever not?”

“Her mind may have its own reasons to forget. I knew Jean at a very difficult time in her life, Charles, as you say. We worked together then, but she hasn’t seen or spoken to me for many years. She could have if she’d wanted to. She knows that you and I have remained friends. There’s a lot about her association with me, about our work together, that she has good reason to want not to remember. Memory is infinitely malleable. Maybe she can’t face remembering what went on then, so she can’t remember me. Stranger things have happened.”

“See what you think when she’s there. But be careful! Whoever she is, she’s a very powerful telepath. Don’t let her in your brain if you can help it... ‘Memory is infinitely malleable.’ I’ll have to remember that.”

“I find myself thinking it a lot as I’ve gotten to know Logan. He tells me you’ve tried to help him with his memory problems.”

“Yes, I’ve read his mind a few times. I have been able to uncover some of his lost time. But I’m sorry to say that I haven’t been that effective. His mind is...confused, disordered. I often can’t distinguish between real memories, dreams, fantasies, maybe even implanted memories. It’s all jumbled. His is a very disturbed – and disturbing – mind. Which I imagine you’ve discovered even without telepathy. I wonder sometimes about his ability to function on our team, although he’s done very well so far. Do you think he’s stable enough to be an X-Man?”

“It’s certainly a high stress job. But you say he’s been functioning well?”

“Yes, both as a teacher and a team member. He has been rock solid reliable. There have been situations where we would have been lost without him.”

“Hmm. You’re quite right that Logan is very troubled. On the other hand, it sounds like he’s good for your team. And I think the work is probably good for him, too. Do you know, Charles, what Freud said when asked what defines a mentally healthy individual?”

“No, what?”

“He said that one should be able to do two things: lieben und arbeiten.”

“To love and to work. Well, Logan seems to be doing well on the work front. Perhaps you’re right and it is good for him. He’s so...damaged, though. I really doubt he’ll ever manage the other half of Freud’s prescription.”

“Give him time, Charles. Give him time.”

================================================================

Devouring Time (Returning Spring, 7/10)

Scott was very familiar with the Look. He’d seen it on numerous students’ faces over the years. The Look was the one that said that something was troubling their teenage souls, and they wanted to talk, but weren’t sure whether to open up to a teacher.

Kitty had had the Look when she came into his office, ostensibly to talk about her college plans. Scott had discussed college options with her, recommending a few possibilities for her to look into. He had suggested that she make an appointment to talk to Charles Xavier, as well, about which schools would be a good fit. Scott had waited patiently. A couple of times Kitty had begun with a tentative “Mr. Summers?” as she nervously twirled her hair around her index finger, but retreated to more college application talk rather than tell him what was on her mind. She was thanking him now, and getting up to leave, so it was unlikely he’d find out what was bothering her today. She exited, closing the door after her.

Scott reached for the telephone, but before he could dial, Kitty was back, passing effortlessly through the closed door. “I’m sorry to bother you, Mr. Summers,” she said, breathlessly, “but there’s something I want to ask you. Are you... will you... are you and Dr. Grey getting back together?” Kitty stumbled over the words, and then looked at him expectantly.

Surprised, Scott didn’t answer at first. “I know it’s none of my business,” Kitty answered, but made no move to go.

“You’re right. It isn’t.” He smiled at her to try to make what he’d just said sound less harsh. “I don’t make a habit of talking about my personal life with the students, Kitty. I don’t think I want to start now.”

“I’m not just being nosy.” Her cheeks reddened. “It’s just that... don’t do it. Please, Mr. Summers. There’s stuff about her you don’t know. She’s not what you think.” She turned quickly, approaching the closed door.

“Kitty!” he called, but she was gone.

*************************************************

Charles Xavier and Ororo Monroe were having tea in the professor’s office. Sitting by the fireplace, they had been discussing the maintenance of the grounds and enjoying the warmth of the fire and the relative calm and quiet, far away from the school hubbub.

“Are you glad to have Logan back?” Professor Xavier asked. “Or were you enjoying teaching his self-defense classes?”

“I’m very happy to have him back. I prefer teaching history. I also found that he is a difficult man to substitute for.”

“Why is that?”

“No lesson plans, no notes. Logan left me nothing to help me step in. The students were all pretty closed-mouthed, too, about what they’d been doing in his classes, although my impression is that my version was quite tame compared to Logan’s. In fact, when I asked the students what kinds of exercises Logan had been doing with them, the most common response was ‘you don’t want to know’.”

Charles chuckled at that. “He’s certainly one of a kind.”

“I’m glad he joined the team,” Ororo said, simply.

“I am, too. For all his rough manner and peculiarities, Logan’s a dedicated teacher. And an invaluable X-Man.” He took a sip of his tea. “I relied on him to secure the house in Peru, and it sounds like he accomplished that mission admirably. And I’m glad he’s back now.”

Storm nodded in agreement. “I’m missing Jean, though. I realize we need to have someone up there, and I think it’s a good assignment for her, but I wonder how that is for her when she was just getting resettled here.” Xavier didn’t reply. “I’m worried about her. She’s not feeling... accepted. It has been hard for her coming back. Have you noticed how changed she is?”

“Certainly, the Jean Grey I knew for so long was a very different woman.”

“Yes, the trauma has left its mark, Charles. And something happened to her while she was imprisoned, to her powers. I think the confinement, her inability to use anything *but* her mind, focused and intensified her psionic gifts. She can do things she never could before. She’s not comfortable yet with that, I think. A little overwhelmed. But it’s not just that. I think many of the team – and the students – are uncomfortable with Jean. They don’t know what to expect of her. I think that’s mostly a necessary consequence of her imprisonment and of all of us believing she was dead. It almost feels as if she is back from the dead.”

“What do you think we ought to do, Ororo?”

“I think you’re doing everything you can. I’m sure Jean appreciates your support, and your practical help. Jean needs time, and patience, and understanding. You’re giving her all of that. We all are. And I thought it was brilliant of you to send her to Vermont, where Ethan Leeds can work with her. She has often spoken to me about how important her time in therapy with him was. She felt he really saved her life.”

“For some mutants, that period of coming into one’s powers can be profoundly traumatic. I’ve found it is often hardest on those with psionic powers. Some manage through denial until they are ready to face what’s happening.”

“Yes, I’ve seen that, too. Denial doesn’t fit Jean’s personality, though.”

Charles nodded in agreement. “Jean Grey was never one for self-deception.” He thought a little more about what Storm had said. “Has Jean talked to you about Ethan recently? Since her return?”

“No, and actually I was surprised, since she did broach the idea of therapy. And she said she found the prospect of finding a new therapist daunting. I thought of mentioning the Vermont project to her then, since it would make it easy to work with Dr. Leeds, but I didn’t want her to think that I was suggesting she should leave us.” She paused in thought, before continuing. “I meant Jean used to mention him from time to time before her imprisonment. Particularly when we’d have students who were having trouble accepting their powers and their mutant status. She often spoke of Dr. Leeds and wished he were still close by, so she could refer our students to him. But, anyway, I do think it’s good she’ll be in Vermont for a while, although I’m missing her and worried, a little, about how she’ll fare there. Well, Dr. Leeds will be a help to her, I’m sure.”

“He knew Jean very well at one point. And he’s a very skillful therapist. Ethan’s worked with trauma victims often.”

“That’s good. She is definitely in need of some help. Although I don’t know how much is the trauma and how much is other issues... Charles, I’m worried about Scott and Jean. I don’t know that they’re going to be able to make their relationship work.”

“It’s for them to decide, Ororo.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Did something happen that leads you to think they won’t reconcile?”

“No, not really. I worry that she doesn’t love him anymore. Not the way she did. She says she wants to get back together with him, but there’s something about how she says it.”

“Relationships change. ‘All true love must die, alter at the best into some lesser thing.’ No?”

“What a cynical view!”

“It’s not the whole poem,” he said, smiling ironically. “Still, I think there’s some truth to it. I don’t know what will happen with Scott and... Jean. They were together a long time, but things have changed.” He paused, then asked, “What do you think is different about Jean’s feelings for Scott now?”

“It sounds as if she’s trying to love him, not loving him. I think Jean’s in love with Logan.”

“Really?”

“She doesn’t talk about him. Well, not much. But I’ve seen them together and there’s something about the way they look at each other. Have you noticed? You know he came back here for her. I’m quite sure of that. I worry that there’s something happening between Jean and Logan. And I wonder what it will do to Scott – and the rest of the team – if she leaves Scott for him.”

*************************************************

“God that was good.” Logan stayed on Scott and in him for a minute, the side of his face pressed against Scott’s back. Then he kissed the back of Scott’s neck briefly, and rolled off of him. Lying on his back, he sighed happily, big grin lighting up his face in the semi-dark room.

Scott remained prone, but threw an arm over Logan’s chest. “As good as Jean?” he asked.

Logan’s smile vanished. He sat up, pushing Scott’s arm off of him in the process. “What is it with you two? You got some weirdo competition thing going or something?”

“Sorry.”

“For a smart guy, you say some really stupid shit.”

“I said I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“Well, you did. Just like she did. Pissed me off then, too.”

“She asked you that?”

“Yeah. ‘Am I better than Scott?’ What a stupid ass question.” Scott didn’t reply. “I did it with her once, I told you that. I’ve been fucking you every chance I get for over a year. Who do you think I’d rather do it with?”

“Is that what you told her?”

Logan shrugged, an angry scowl darkening his face. “Pretty much. I told her I didn’t want to do it with her again and I wasn’t gonna stop doing it with you. I figured she’s smart enough to know what that means. But I would’ve thought you were, too.”

********************************************************

“Charles? Mac Hudson here.”

“Hello, Mac. How is everything in the Frozen North?”

“Still frozen. How are you?”

“All is well here.”

“Charles, I’ll get straight to the point. I’m hearing some disturbing things from my people in Vermont.”

“That’s an alarming beginning. What is the problem?”

“Jean Grey. They’re quite convinced that she is a destabilizing influence on the MPP.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that. Can you be more specific?”

“Unfortunately, Northstar and Sasquatch haven’t been all that specific. They sure are emphatic, though. They say that Angela Jenkins, who was pretty much calmed down over the security issues and making great progress in adapting to her new identity, is a nervous wreck since Jean arrived. The unflappable G-Men are also uneasy. Jean-Paul has said the most, but he’s still pretty vague. He says he finds Jean manipulative, disruptive, that she’s pitting the staff there against each other.”

“In what way?”

“I don’t know. Jean-Paul isn’t very clear on that point, but he says they were all getting along just fine until she showed up. He’s also worried about our MPP participant. He says that Angela is frightened of Jean and, given her gift for predicting disaster, he thinks this is significant. I don’t know what to make of it, Charles. They were never close – Jean and Northstar – but they always worked well together before this. He was clearly reluctant to talk, but once he started, Jean-Paul said a lot of strange things.”

“Like what?”

“Well, the strangest is – he says he thinks the woman there is an imposter, that she isn’t really Jean.”

**********************************************

Scott knocked on the door to the room down the hall from his. Logan opened it without a word and stood aside. Scott walked in and looked around. He hadn’t been to Logan’s new quarters since Logan had moved in. The room was small and furnished very sparsely. A single bed stood against one wall, a wooden table and chair on the opposite wall. No bookshelf or dresser, but an open trunk filled haphazardly with clothes and other possessions stood at the foot of the bed. “Can I talk to you?” Scott asked, as Logan closed the door after him.

“Nobody’s stopping you,” Logan replied, sitting down on the bed.

Scott pulled the lone chair over by the bed and sat down. “Are you all moved in?” he asked. Logan shrugged. “Do you need anything? There’s plenty of spare furniture. I can get you whatever you want.” Logan said nothing. “You’re not making this any easier, you know.”

“What do you want, Cyclops?”

“I want to apologize. I hate being on bad terms with you.”

“You could’ve fooled me.”

“Well I thought of getting on my knees to abjectly beg for your forgiveness, but you might think I had something else in mind.” That, at least, made Logan laugh. “Look, I’m sorry. It’s none of my business who you have sex with. I was out of line to ask you about Jean. I shouldn’t have said anything. I won’t again.”

“So why did you?”

Scott took a deep breath. “I was jealous. I have been since you told me. Probably before that, even.”

“Who are you jealous of? That’s what I want to know. Her or me? Who you thinking about here?” Logan’s tone started out belligerent but ended up almost plaintive.

Scott answered him softly. “You. I’m thinking about you. This thing between us – it has mattered more to me than I wanted to admit. More than I thought it would. I’ve relied on you more and more as time has gone on.” Logan looked at him sidelong, but he continued. “I’ve been looking to you for a lot, Logan – friendship, sex, advice, a sounding board. When it looked like Jean was back... well, I worried you’d just been marking time with me. I was scared you’d drop me. And then when you told me you’d had sex with her... It hurt. It hurt a lot. And not just that. It scared me. It worried me. So, I was looking for some sort of reassurance, I guess. You were quite right - it was a stupid thing to ask. And, I realize now, a totally inappropriate one. I was jealous to think of you with anyone else.”

“Or her with somebody else?”

Scott shook his head. “No, that’s not it. It’s not what this is about for me. Look, I’m really, really sure that woman isn’t Jean. But if it were her, if she did come back, it would be the same. I meant what I told you – I loved her, but what we tried to have was a mistake. I understand that now. It’s taken me a long time to get to this point, but I’m not turning back.”

Scott thought about how to explain himself for a moment, and then continued. “I was in love with Jean. That counted for something, but it wasn’t enough. Not enough to go against my own nature. I’m gay. I shouldn’t have tried to live otherwise, not even for Jean, not even for love. And, although I certainly remember her fondly and am enraged that that woman has convinced most of the school she’s really Jean, well, I’m not in love with Jean anymore. That part of my life is over.”

Scott swallowed hard, and said nothing for a long time. “I’m in love with you,” he added, finally.

===================================================================

Were Man As Rare As Phoenix (Returning Spring, 8/10)

Ethan Leeds sat at his desk. Jean-Paul Beaubier was seated in the chair across from him. Ethan had suggested they move to the seating area at the other side of the office, but Jean-Paul had shook his head and said they could cover what they needed to right there.

“Thank you for coming by today,” Ethan began. “I had thought that Mr. Langkowski would be with you, though.”

“Walter can come talk to you tomorrow. We can’t both be away from that house at the same time.”

“Why is that?”

“We can’t leave Cassandra alone with her. It’s not safe.”

“Alone? Aren’t there still two FBI men at the house in Peru?”

“They don’t know the first thing about how to protect her, copain. Not from a powerful telepath. I don’t know who this woman is, but she’s got powers those FBI guys aren’t equipped to deal with. Powers Jean Grey never had. Vraiment.”

“I asked you to come here because Charles Xavier told me that you are convinced that this is not Jean, that she’s an imposter. Are you so sure?”

“Mon dieu! You met her, didn’t you? Do you really think that’s Jean Grey?”

Ethan stopped to think before answering. “Truly, I don’t know. If I didn’t have you, and Charles Xavier, and Scott Summers all thinking otherwise, well, yes I would think that is Jean. There aren’t a lot of doppelgangers around, you know.”

“Maybe we travel in different circles.” Ethan’s eyebrows raised. “I was kidding,” Jean-Paul added. “Yes, I realize it seems peculiar – bizarre even – to say that this isn’t Jean. But I have proof.”

“Proof?”

“Oui. But slow down a minute. Let me explain.” Northstar stopped to collect his thoughts. “I worried from as soon as she got there that this wasn’t Jean. How she greeted me, for a start.”

“How did she greet you?”

“Nice. Too friendly. We’d worked together from time to time over the years, Jean and I. We managed. We teamed up when we were told to. But, bien sur, we’d never gotten along. She was always very professional with me, but never warm. She didn’t like me and she made that very clear.”

“Why didn’t she like you?”

“Oh, I think she thought I had my eye on her boyfriend.”

“And did you?” Jean-Paul just shrugged. “So, she was friendly, you say?”

“Oui. Too friendly from the start. And then way too friendly pretty quickly. I’ve been out a long time. Jean Grey – the real Jean Grey – knew I have no interest in women. This one – well, she seemed to think all the men in that house are interested in her. Or could be, if she tried hard enough.”

“You felt she was coming on to you?”

“I didn’t just feel it. She was doing it. Playing with my brain – looking to play with the rest of me. And she was really surprised it didn’t work.”

“And this you feel is proof?”

“No, this is what convinced me I needed to get proof. Like I said, she was playing with my brain. I’ve known enough telepaths – I could tell what she was doing. So, I set a trap for her.”

“What kind of trap?”

“A false memory. She’d already realized she’d screwed up with me – had found out she approached me the wrong way. Tried to cover it up – told me she was just trying to be friendly, trying to start over with me. She said her imprisonment had left her realizing she didn’t want animosity with any teammates, blah blah blah.”

“You don’t think it’s possible she was telling the truth?”

Jean-Paul looked at him skeptically. “No, copain, pas possible. That woman was not just being friendly at first – she was hitting on me. This bullshit about a fresh start was just an attempt to cover up the fact that she didn’t know how things had been with the real Jean Grey and me.”

“So, what is this about a false memory?”

“Ah, that’s what I figured would prove it once and for all. When she came snooping in my brain, I’d have something waiting for her. I concentrated on something that had happened, something I’d expect her to remember well. Only it never happened, hein? If she’s Jean, well she knows it’s just something I made up, n’est-ce pas? If she’s not, she thinks it’s real and she thinks it’s why she didn’t like me. So, I wait and see if she says anything.”

“And she did?”

“Oui. She wanted to talk about it, said she wanted to ‘get past it,’ ‘lay it to rest.’ I knew she was lying. She just wanted to show me she knew what happened to cause trouble between her and me. Only it didn’t. I made the whole thing up. She fell for it – it was a fantasy, but vivid, hein? Real enough to seem like a memory. And that’s what she thought it was. Because she’s not Jean.”

“What was the false memory? What did she think had happened to cause a rift between you and Jean?”

“Ah, that’s the best part.” Jean-Paul smiled. “Cette femme - she thought I was remembering her walking in on me and Scott Summers. Fucking.”

***************************************

Logan was still breathing hard as Scott’s mouth released his softening penis. He watched as Scott leaned down again to lick the head a minute, making contended sounds as he did. Logan lay back on the bed, sighing happily, pulling Scott’s head onto his belly and then stroking the dark hair as he lay there. Eyes closed tight, Scott asked, “Can you reach my glasses?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, can I have them back now?”

“What do you need them for?” He looked around at Scott’s room. “There’s nothing here you haven’t seen a million times.”

“I just feel uncomfortable without them. When I was sucking you, I was pretty distracted, but now I feel... naked. Vulnerable, I guess.”

“Hey. I’d let you know if there was anything dangerous around. I’d give ‘em to you right away if there was anything you needed to see. Trust me, okay?”

“I do, Logan. I trust you with my life in battle – I have plenty of times. I’m pretty sure I can trust you in bed, too.” And then, after a minute, “Why don’t you want me to wear them, anyway?”

Still stroking Scott’s hair, Logan touched his cheek and then stroked his closed eyelids with the other hand, looking intently at the man on the bed with him. “I just want to see your whole face sometimes,” he said. “When we’re doing it, and after, too. I like looking at you. All of you. Does it bother you when I tell you I want you to take them off? Do you mind doing it blind?”

“No. I sure like looking at you during sex, but it’s good like this, too. There’s something kind of hot about doing it without my glasses. I’m not sure what.” He stopped and thought a little. “Maybe it’s connected to trust. When I was sucking you – and now – you let me have my eyes pointing right at you. You’re trusting me, too, knowing what would happen if I opened my eyes.”

“Yeah, well I trust you in combat, too. Lots of times... Why not for sex?”

“Nobody ever had sex with me without the glasses before.”

“Not even Jean?” Scott didn’t answer right away and Logan went on. “Forget I asked that... Hey, Scott?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you teach me something?”

“I’ve tried, you know that. Really, Logan, I’ve given it all I’ve got. I think some guys just can’t do it. Maybe you have a really strong gag reflex. It doesn’t matter.” He sighed. “I love how you suck me.”

“That’s not what I was talking about. One of your other skills.”

“Ah, English grammar? You finally want to learn about agreement of subject and verb?”

Logan laughed. “Maybe some other time. No. I... I wanna learn how to keep somebody out of my brain.”

“Mental shields?”

“Yeah. How do you do that?”

“I can’t teach you.”

“Oh, come on. Just because I can’t learn to take your cock all the way down my throat, doesn’t mean I can’t learn this.”

Scott laughed at that. “No, I’m sure you use different muscle groups for mental shields than you do for deep throat. I didn’t say you can’t learn. I said I can’t teach you. You need a telepath to train you. It’s the only way to learn it, as far as I know. Someone has to kind of go into your brain and show you how to do it. Charles taught me. Ask him – he’ll teach you how.” Scott raised his head as another thought came to him. Facing Logan, he’d be looking at him except that his eyes were closed. “Or don’t you want him to? It’s not him you’re trying to keep out, is it? He really doesn’t read anyone’s mind unasked. Well, not unless he needs to for a mission.”

“Nah, it’s not him I want to keep out. It’s her... Jean. Or whoever she is.”

“Has she been reading your mind?”

Logan didn’t answer at first. “I’m not sure,” he said, finally. “Something weird happened.”

“What? Will you tell me?”

“I don’t know. Are you gonna get pissed off at me if I talk about that time I did it with her?”

“No, Logan. I won’t.”

“Well, when I did her that one time, I kind of felt like she was in my brain. I remember you saying that you used to have a telepathic link with Jean all the time and that it was sort of an extra something during sex.” Scott nodded. “Well, it didn’t feel like that to me. Not a good thing. It felt like... I don’t know. Sort of like she was somewhere she didn’t belong.” He paused a minute, thinking. “And I’ve been thinking maybe that’s why she wanted to do it with me. To find stuff out. To get inside my head.” Logan turned his head away from Scott. “I never told her you and me were doing it. Did you?”

“No. I never told her anything.”

“Well, she knew. That, and lots of other stuff I never said to nobody. Nobody but you.”

“Logan, I’ve never told anybody what you’ve told me in confidence. Please believe that.”

“I believe you. Like I said, I trust you. I’m just mentioning that to tell you why I think she’s been snooping in my head. I mean – if I didn’t tell her and you didn’t, how does she know this stuff?”

“Yes, it does sound like she was reading your mind when you were... And you think she has been since then?”

Logan nodded, then realized Scott couldn’t see him. “Yeah, sometimes I’d sort of feel weird in my head. I don’t know how to describe it. Like you know how sometimes you realize someone’s staring at you and you look around and there’s somebody right there? Only this happened to me a few times and nobody was there. I didn’t like it. I didn’t know what to think.”

“It’s not happening anymore?”

“No, when I went to Vermont it stopped. So, I was thinking maybe it was something about being here. But now I’m back and I still don’t feel it. But, get what I mean? She’s not here, either.” Logan thought about it a little more. “Scott? Can telepaths do that mind-reading stuff from far away?”

Scott sat up on the bed, leaning back next to Logan. “Well,” he said, “it’s possible, but it’s not easy.” Logan handed him his glasses and he put them on. “Jean and I used to do that,” he continued, looking at Logan now. “When one of us was traveling. If I was on a mission, for example, I’d call her when I got where I was going. We’d talk for a minute or two on the phone, and then we’d both concentrate on getting the link going, then we’d hang up and just talk with our brains.”

“So talking on the phone started it?”

“Sort of. The voice contact helped, but it wasn’t enough. We both really did have to work at it. So, no – I don’t think she could read your mind when she’s in Vermont and you’re here, or vice versa. Not if you didn’t want her to, not without you helping her to.”

“But when she comes back?”

“I think you ought to ask Charles to teach you how to use mental shields before she does.”

=====================================================================

Not the Exact Likeness (Returning Spring, 9/10)

“You’ve spoken to Jean-Paul and Walter?”

“Yes, Charles. I met with each of them individually and interviewed them both at length. And I’ve met with... Jean a few times, as well. I’ve examined her. I’ve talked to her about her mental and emotional state and heard a pretty extensive account of her capture, imprisonment and escape. She’s shared some of her difficulties in being accepted and feeling comfortable within the school and with the X-Men.”

“And how did she seem to you?”

“Well, please remember that I hadn’t seen Jean Grey in a number of years, Charles.”

“Yes, I know. I’m not asking you to commit yourself to a decision. But what’s your opinion? Is this woman Jean, or not?”

“She is Jean. I’m convinced of that... I guess that’s not what you wanted to hear.”

“Perhaps not. It’s not what I expected to hear anyway. On what do you base this opinion?”

“Charles, it’s just... not possible, what you’re suggesting. There cannot be two people who look so exactly alike. I think it’s close to ten years since I’ve seen Jean Grey, but I recognized her right away. She looks older, of course. Her personality is very different. But, Charles, that’s what happens – with time, with experience, especially with trauma such as she has suffered. She is a changed woman – I don’t doubt that. If you were saying ‘she’s not Jean’ to me as metaphor, as indication of how different she has become, I could totally accept that. I can understand that. She is indeed a different woman from the one you knew before she had this horrific experience. But she’s still Jean Grey... You’re not saying anything.”

“I don’t know what to say, Ethan. I felt sure you’d see what I did, understand that this can’t be Jean. You’ve talked to Scott?”

“Yes, and he’s understandably very conflicted. But I realize that he – like you, like the two Alpha Flight representatives – really does think this is someone else. I think to some extent you are all convincing each other, reinforcing each other’s beliefs. Still, you must know at some level that this belief is not grounded in reality. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have asked me to look into this.”

“I asked you because I felt I needed an objective look at the question. Yes, I was concerned that we were all influencing each other and I thought you could take a fresh look. I thought you’d confirm what we believed, though. And now it seems you’re telling me we’re all crazy.”

“You know that’s not a word I use. Charles, you are an extremely levelheaded, rational, thoughtful individual. I wouldn’t have gone as far as I did to check your claim out if it came from anyone else. On the face of it, it’s an outlandish belief. I took it very seriously solely because you believed it.”

“I appreciate that.”

“I still have very complete medical records from the time when Jean was my patient. She had two small scars – one on her head, behind her left ear, and the other on her right thigh. Neither of them is noticeable in clothing - her hair covers the one on her head. The scars are still there, Charles. Okay, let’s assume someone looked enough like Jean to pull this off and managed through plastic surgery and so forth to look even more like her. Even if that were true, how would she get the scars? I just don’t see how this can possibly be someone other than Jean.”

“Do you remember how you and I met, Ethan?”

“Of course. How could I forget? If it were not for Jean, we might never have met.”

“Then you remember that you’ve thought some things were impossible before that turned out to be true. There is more in heaven and earth than is dreamt of in your philosophy. Particularly when mutants are involved.”

“Are you saying that looking exactly like Jean is someone’s mutant gift?”

“Not precisely, but there are mutants who can change their shape, who can exactly copy the appearance of someone else. Although what you say about the scars concerns me. In my experience of shape shifters, they are only able to copy what is readily seen.”

“I do know about shape shifters. I’ve even treated some. They tend to have a fairly weak sense of self, for obvious reasons. They look remarkably like the person they are imitating, but they make mistakes, precisely because they can’t know about things like scars, or small blemishes, or old healed injuries that show up on X-rays. And yes, Jean’s got a couple of those, too. But it’s not just the scars or the marks on her bones, Charles. Or the fillings – which are all in the right place.”

“There’s more?”

“Yes. I asked Martin Kline if Jean Grey had fingerprints on file. She does. She was fingerprinted as part of the security procedure before she testified before the Senate Commission on Mutants a couple of years back. Charles, I had him take her prints now. They’re the same. This is Jean. Nothing else is possible.”

“I understand that’s how it seems, but...”

“Charles, listen. The kind of trauma Jean has undergone – it has changed her. There’s no doubt about that. I know how close you were to her. You considered her almost a daughter to you, is that not right?”

“It’s very much right. Jean and Scott are the people I have been closest to - have loved the most – of anyone in my life. I knew her so well, Ethan. We shared so much. I can’t be mistaken about this.”

“Maybe you have to be mistaken about this. Have you thought of that?”

“I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“Think about how she’s changed. She’s harder edged. Calculating. Manipulative. Not the open and caring person you knew and loved. I see that. I know you do, too. Charles, I think you don’t like Jean Grey very much now. And I don’t blame you. It’s not her fault how she’s changed, but they are not pleasant changes she has undergone. She’s not the warm and loving daughter you remember with such affection.

“I think it must feel so disloyal to find yourself disliking her. What kind of way is that to welcome back long lost Jean? And with both of you being telepaths, well, that would be pretty hard to hide, wouldn’t it? You couldn’t hide your feelings from yourself; you couldn’t hide them from Jean. Not under normal circumstances, with your minds open to each other. It would make you feel inadequate to the task of helping her re-assimilate, helping her heal, wouldn’t it? On the other hand, if it’s not Jean... well, then it’s okay to feel that way, right? Your hostility towards her is not only understandable, it’s *loyal*. It’s necessary to stay on your guard, to keep your mind closed to her. It’s not rejecting of Jean, not if you convince yourself that this isn’t Jean. On the contrary, it’s loving towards Jean, the real Jean, to unmask the imposter. You can’t face the fact that your feelings towards Jean have changed along with her personality, so you decide instead that she isn’t Jean.”

“I don’t know. I just don’t know. It makes sense when you say that, if you were telling me this about someone else – a patient – I’d commend you on your insight. Still, for all your skill and knowledge, Ethan, I don’t believe you can see what’s really going on here. You’re not a telepath; you’re not a mutant. I think you just aren’t as open to possibilities – even new and unusual possibilities - as my team and I have had to be. It’s not just my view. Jean-Paul Beaubier and Walter Langkowski independently came to the same conclusion, you know. And neither of them was particularly close to Jean, so your theory of my motivation would not apply to them. Jean-Paul, in particular, never got along well with Jean.”

“Yes, I know that. I’m not saying I understand or can explain why all of you feel like this. I am saying I just don’t think it could possibly be true.”

“Perhaps this woman is an extremely adept shape shifter, more so than we’ve ever encountered. Perhaps she’s able to mimic even details like fingerprints and scars. I understand that sounds unlikely, but leading the X-Men as long as I have has convinced me that many unlikely things happen. I’ve also learned that we discount the unlikely at our peril.”

“Have you talked to Logan about Jean? What did he say?”

“I haven’t spoken to him about her. I really don’t know. Have you?”

“Yes.”

“He believes this is Jean?”

“He doesn’t know what to believe. He’s confused. But what he told me led me to rule out the possibility of a shape shifter, Charles. He said his heightened senses aren’t fooled by that, that every individual has a distinct scent. Logan can tell who’s in a room with his eyes closed, even if no one says a word. That’s how acute his sense of smell is. And he has no doubt that the woman who calls herself Jean has the scent he knew from the real Jean Grey.”

****************************************************

“Cyclops? Northstar here.

“Jean-Paul. How are you?”

“Been better, copain. I talked to that shrink. He doesn’t believe me.”

“Did he say so?”

“No, but I could tell. I can’t convince him, Walter can’t, Charles Xavier can’t. Did you try?”

“Not very hard. Frankly, I don’t know what to believe anymore. I’m not surprised that Ethan thinks this sounds unlikely. I don’t see myself how it could have happened. How could someone look exactly like Jean? How could she move like Jean, sound like Jean, smell like Jean? How could she know what Jean knew?”

“She doesn’t know everything, believe me.”

“I do believe you. I’ve noticed that myself. But memory lapse is not proof that she’s an imposter.”

“No, but I have proof. And I gave it to the shrink. He still won’t believe it.”

“What kind of proof?”

“I’ve got no time to explain. That’s not what I called about. If we can’t unmask this imposter, then we’ve got to neutralize her.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s a danger now – a danger to the mission and a danger to Cassandra. We’ve got to get Cassandra out of here and on to her new life before that woman causes her harm.”

“Is she ready, do you think? Is it safe to start her on her new identity?”

“I don’t know. I’d rather give her another couple of weeks, bien sur. I don’t know how safe this is. But I know it’s not safe here. We need to get her out, and fast. She needs to be far away before the one who pretends to be Jean even knows she’s gone.”

****************************************

“Hi. It’s me.”

“Jean? Are you okay? It’s...”

“Three in the morning. I know, ‘Ro. I’m sorry to wake you, but this couldn’t wait.”

“It’s okay. What’s wrong? Is Angela okay?”

“For now. But I need your help.”

“Of course. What is happening?”

“She’s in danger. We have to get her out of here.”

“Danger? What’s going on there?”

“Northstar and Sasquatch. They’re not... doing what they say they are. They’re plotting against this mission.”

“Jean, I know you and Jean-Paul don’t get along very well, but I can’t think he or Walter would plot against our mission. We’ve worked with Alpha Flight so often. They’re very reliable and committed to joint missions.”

“Not this time. They’re trying to take her away from here.”

“That’s the whole idea of this mission. At our status meeting yesterday, we heard she should be ready in another two weeks.”

“They’re not waiting two weeks and they’re not taking her to... where was she supposed to be resettled?”

“Where do you think they’re taking her? When do you think this is happening?”

“I don’t know where. I only have the sketchiest information. But I know they’re planning on sneaking her out tomorrow, without telling her in advance, and without informing me or the FBI. They don’t mean her well, ‘Ro, I’m sure of it.”

“What do you want to do? What do you want me to do?”

“You have to help me. We’ve got to get her away from here. Before they do.”

“Jean? Please calm down. We can’t just do this on our own. We need to talk to Charles. If you have concerns about the Alpha Flight team members, he’s the one to bring your concerns to. Jean? Jean? Are you there?”

======================================================

When I Am Consumed in the Fire (Returning Spring 10/10)

Logan had something on his mind, that much Scott could tell. Scott had spent enough time with him to know the signs. At the faculty meeting after dinner, Logan spoke even less than usual, but kept shooting Scott intense yet impenetrable glances. When the meeting was over, the two of them had worked on revising simulations in the Danger Room. Alone together, Scott thought he’d hear what was bothering Logan, but Logan had been all business. Now, back in Scott’s room, Logan had repeatedly begun to say something and then changed his mind. “Is there something you want to talk about?” Scott had asked, after the third time Logan had opened his mouth to speak and then said nothing.

“Not now.” Shaking his head, hand reaching to stroke Scott through his jeans. “After,” he added, unzipping Scott’s fly and lowering his head. But the phone had rung right at that moment and there hadn’t been any sex to talk after. The conversation with Jean-Paul had led to a brief meeting with Charles Xavier and no time for talk.

Charles had told Cyclops and Wolverine to fly directly to Vermont and to come back with the woman who claimed to be Jean that night. Scott had anticipated her reluctance to return with them. Charles impressed upon the two X-Men that it was essential that she be brought back to Xavier’s right away, where her movements and her actions could be more closely monitored. The two X-Men promised that they would do whatever was necessary to bring her back, using force if they had to.

Alone in the Blackbird, sitting next to Scott, Logan seemed ready to speak. Scott’s hands on the controls and his eyes on the instrument panel, perhaps not looking at each other made it easier for him. “There’s something I think I should tell you,” he began.

“I’m listening.”

“When me and you weren’t talking... or fucking or doing anything else, well, I didn’t like it.”

“Me, neither.”

“I was thinking about you all the time. Some of what I was thinking was being real mad, although I’m not even sure why anymore. Or at least I’m not sure I know who I was mad at. I don’t know how much was about what happened between you and me, and how much was about how she was messing with us both, but I was mad.”

“I know.”

“But I wasn’t just mad. Something else was happening to me then. A lot of the time I was just thinking about when you and me had been together. About sex. And talking. And working together – on missions, at the school. And about working out and just hanging out together.” He faltered, as if he didn’t know what to say next.

“I’m glad we got back on track, Logan,” Scott said. “I missed you,” he added.

“Yeah, me too. And I’m glad, too. It wouldn’t have happened – us being friends again – if you hadn’t kept calling me in Vermont, if you hadn’t said the things you did. Then and later, after I came back.”

“I said some things I shouldn’t have said.”

“I know, but you owned up to that. I like how you’re willing to say when you make a mistake. That’s an important thing to do. I’m not so good at that myself. But I’m gonna try more... I made a mistake about her, I know that now. A mistake believing her. Doing it with her and letting her into my brain. I don’t know if she’s somebody else like you think or if she’s Jean but she’s just changed into somebody else, a different kind of person than she used to be. I know she’s no good, though. No good for you, no good for me, for the project, the team. She’s planning something, something bad. I don’t know if we can stop her.”

“We’ll stop her.”

“I don’t know if we can stop her without killing her.”

Scott took a deep breath. “That would be okay with me, I think. Charles might not like it.” Scott’s voice was grimly determined. “It’s not just that she’s impersonating Jean. It’s not just that she’s been trying to pit you and me against each other. There’s a kind of radiating malevolence about her. It’s there, Logan. I can feel it when she’s in my brain. She’s not the woman I knew and loved. She’s – well, I hate to sound melodramatic, but the only word I have for it is evil, as foolish as that sounds.”

“It doesn’t sound foolish. Evil is right.”

“We can handle evil. We’re the good guys.”

Logan laughed, then turned serious. “That’s not what I wanted to tell you.”

“Sorry. I got us off on a tangent. What were you saying?”

“I was telling you about how I was thinking about you all the time, when I was in Vermont and me and you weren’t talking.”

“But we made up before you came back. And then got pissed off at each other again,” Scott added with a wry grin. “The course of true love never did run smooth.” When Logan didn’t answer he said, “It was a joke, Logan.”

“No it wasn’t.” Scott shrugged, and Logan continued. “It’s what I want to talk to you about, that love stuff.”

“I haven’t exactly been dwelling on it, have I? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I just wanted you to know how I feel.”

“I’m not complaining.” Neither of them said anything for a minute. “So, like I said,” Logan went on, “I was thinking about you all the time when I was up there. At first I thought it was just ‘cause things were bad between me and you, you know? Some of the time I was mad at you, some of the time wishing you’d call and say you’re sorry, some of the time thinking I probably should be the one to apologize. And I was real happy when we did make up, but... well, it didn’t change nothing. So then I knew different.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I wasn’t mad anymore, but you were still on my mind all the time. When something was bugging me you were the guy I wanted to tell about it. When something good happened, well... same thing. When I was horny, I didn’t just want to fuck, I wanted it to be with you. When you told me you were jealous of Jean and me, that you didn’t want me doing it with her? Well, I get that. I don’t want you doing it with anybody else, either. Just me. I’d be real mad if you did. And, not only that. I don’t wanna do it with anybody else. That part’s new for me. I don’t ever remember feeling like that, not for more than a week or so.” Scott chuckled at that. “I guess it is kind of funny, but it’s true. It’s just not how I am. I’m just not built like that, to stay with one person. To feel like that about one person. Or, I wasn’t, anyway. But that’s how I’ve been feeling with you. It’s still like that for me. I think about you all the time. I’m feeling like I never felt before, that I can remember. Wanting stuff I never wanted before. That’s how it’s been for a long time now. Only one thing has changed.”

“What’s that?”

“At first it bothered me. I just wanted to stop feeling like this, and now I mostly think I like it. It feels good thinking about you, being with you. I want to keep going on like we have been.” Logan took a deep breath. “So, I guess what I’m saying is that I’m in love with you, too.”

Scott’s smile seemed to light up his face, even in the darkness in the jet. “You don’t know how happy I am to hear that.”

“Now that we’ve both said it, we don’t have to talk about it anymore, do we?”

Scott laughed. “Not a lot, anyway. I might mention it once in a while, but I’ll try not to be a bore about it.”

***************************************************

They found the FBI agents in the mud room. Sprawled on the floor, arms stretched out, face up. Dead. There was no doubt that they were dead, although the scene was confusing enough that Scott and Logan weren’t able to tell right away how they died. There was a lot of blood - on the men and all over. They didn’t stop to examine the bodies at first except to verify that they were indeed dead. No pulse, and they were cold enough that it was clear they hadn’t just been killed. The X-Men went looking for the rest of the house’s occupants, wary of one of them. Scott would have missed the two bloody lumps on the hall table if Logan hadn’t pointed them out. It took them a moment to realize that they were the dead men’s hearts.

“She cut out their hearts?” Logan sounded like he was trying to verify that this wasn’t another of his nightmares.

“I don’t know if she cut them. I don’t see any knives. Not that that means anything. But… her telekinetic powers – they were much stronger than Jean’s were, and they’ve been getting stronger all the time.”

“You think she... lifted them out? With her brain?”

“Death by telekinesis? Maybe. Let’s see if there are any knives missing from the kitchen.”

The knife block was full, but someone was in the kitchen. Sasquatch was unconscious but alive, lying on the floor of the kitchen, arms and legs spread to the side, just like the dead G-Men, but his heart still where it belonged and still beating. Northstar and Cassandra were nowhere to be found.

Logan cocked his head to one side, listening. “What do you hear?” Scott asked.

“Something that way. In the garage.”

“The panic room?” They looked at each other. The noise was getting louder now – Scott could hear it, too. A banging sound.

“She’s trying to break in,” Logan said. “Angela must be in there.”

“Okay,” Scott answered, moving into Field Leader mode. “She’s stronger than she was, maybe stronger than we know. Remember the G-Men. But there are two of us and – more importantly – we know she’s here and she doesn’t know we are. We need to surprise her and immobilize her. That means at least knocking her out – her brain can find weapons if she’s conscious, even if we can imprison her body.”

They entered the barn as quietly as they could. A shovel was embedded half an inch into the fortified steel door to the panic room. As Scott watched, an axe rose and hit the door with crashing impact. More tools flew through the air, a deafening sound as they connected with the hard metal, but the door stood. The woman whose brain was throwing them seemed to have no idea anyone else was there, her eyes and her brain focused on the door, and on the one she was trying to reach, behind the door.

Logan jumped her from behind, claws extended. Before he could use them on her, though, the adamantium extending from his hands began bending. “Retract them!” Scott yelled and he did, immediately, before they bent too far to go back in, realizing that was the only way he could use his fists.

And use them he did, attempting to knock the adversary unconscious. His hand stopped just before it connected, and he couldn’t break through the telekinetic barrier. Scott ran to join in the fray, grabbing another axe stored on a rack on the wall, to use as a weapon. As he did, his visor floated up and off of him. Eyes snapping shut, he managed to avoid any unintentional damage and tried his best to fight blind. He realized how ineffective he was when, swinging for Jean, he connected with Logan’s shoulder instead. He could feel bones in his hand breaking from the impact with the metal inside. Jean’s voice in his ears, he turned towards her and considered opening his eyes, but only for a split second. Cyclops had no qualms about killing her, but was disoriented without vision, and too worried that he’d accidentally hit Logan again, this time with deadly force. Or that the optic blasts would pass through the door or wall and hit Cassandra.

And then someone else was in the barn there with them. Scott was still blind and Logan couldn’t see him either, as the newcomer was moving too quickly for even his superhuman vision to detect. The first Logan knew that someone was there was when he saw their adversary fall to the ground, unconscious. Then the blur that had hit her slowed down enough to be visibly Jean-Paul Beaubier. Scott felt his visor being placed in his hand. Opening his eyes he saw Northstar for the first time.

“Where’s Walter?” Jean-Paul asked. “Did she do to him what she did to the others?”

“No, he’s okay,” Scott replied. “She left him alive. I don’t know why.” Northstar’s sigh of relief was loud in the now quiet barn.

The three men looked down at the woman lying there, unconscious. “What do we do with her now?” Jean-Paul asked.

“We’ve got to keep her like this until we get back to Westchester. Charles can decide then.”

“I say she stays unconscious permanently,” said Logan, extending his claws, verifying that they hadn’t been damaged, prepared to use them.

Before either of his companions could answer, something began to emerge from the unconscious body on the floor. Something not quite solid, yet not quite gaseous. Translucent, flickering, in hues of gold and red and orange. It looked like the figure of a human, yet also looked like a bird, and like a flame all at once. It emitted a light so intense as to be blinding to all but Scott, who saw the shape but not the colors or its flickering brightness. It hovered there in the air above Jean’s body, and then rose in a flickering, shimmering path to the ceiling of the barn. And through it.

It was gone.

“What the fuck was that?” Logan asked. No one knew. He turned back to the woman on the floor, claws still extended.

“No!” Scott yelled, stopping Logan before he attacked. “It’s Jean,” he added. “I can feel her. It’s really her.”

“That...thing? It was in her body? Merde!” Jean-Paul shook his head.

Scott knelt before Jean’s body and watched as she opened her eyes. “It’s okay,” he said. “You’re safe now.”

She sat up, looked confused for a minute, and then threw her arms around him, crying. “I thought I’d never see you again.” She tried to say more but appeared overcome with emotion. “I could hear you sometimes,” she added, and then couldn’t say any more.

“It’s okay,” Scott said again, holding her now, one-armed, his useless right hand hanging by his side. “It’s gone, whatever it was. You’re back, that’s the important thing. You’re safe. Do you know what it was?” She shook her head. “We’ll talk to Charles, figure out what happened. It’ll be okay, somehow. You’re okay.”

Jean was shaking hard. It took a minute for her to compose herself. “I’m okay,” she said, echoing Scott’s words. “As long as I’m with you, I’ll be fine.” Scott looked at Logan, over Jean’s shoulder. The expression he saw on Logan’s face was one he doubted anyone but him had seen before, one Scott had only seen when Logan was in the middle of a nightmare. Scott wanted to say something to him, but didn’t know what. He didn’t get a chance to decide what to say. Logan turned around without a word and left the barn.

===========================================================

Literature Guide for Returning Spring

As my version of Scott “Cyclops” Summers is an English teacher, my stories often include quotes and other references to literature, classic and modern. Following are works referenced in “Returning Spring” with urls for those who would like to read the literature quoted.

Poems

William Shakespeare. Sonnets 19 and 98
The Shakespearean sonnets show up a lot in my stories. My version of Scott is not only an English teacher but also gay. Like many gay English teachers whom I have known Scott is partial to the some of the early sonnets, the ones written to Will’s male lover, known as the Fair Youth. Sonnet 19, which gives the title for two of the stories in this series, talks about the cruel effects of time and expresses the sentiment that the lover the poem is addressed to will be forever young in verse. The imagery fits in with the spring and rebirth themes of this series. There’s also a phoenix reference: “burn the long-lived phoenix in her blood.” Read the poem at http://www.shakespeare-online.com/sonnets/19.html.
Sonnet 98 covers another common theme in Shakespeare’s poetry – missing an absent lover. It begins “From you have I been absent in the spring” and discourses on missing a loved one who is far away. Two of the story titles reference this poem. It can be found at http://www.shakespeare-online.com/sonnets/98.html.

William Butler Yeats
“Her Anxiety.” This brief poem tells about a woman’s fears that her lover’s ardor will cool, and asks that he reassure her on that point with the refrain “prove that I lie.” It fit in this series in several obvious ways. The series title comes from this poem and Charles Xavier quotes it to Storm when speaking about the possibility that Scott and Jean won’t reconcile. Read it at http://poetry.poetryx.com/poems/1501/.
“His Phoenix.” This wonderfully evocative poem talks about the changes that time brings. Unlike Shakespeare in Sonnet 19, Yeats discusses attempts to stay young through artifice, rather than the timelessness of art. He speaks of those who contrive to appear younger than they are or to preserve some aspect of their youth and indulgently ends each stanza with “I knew a phoenix in my youth so let them have their day.” The themes of change and rebirth fit in well with this series. See for yourself at http://poetry.poetryx.com/poems/1510/.
e.e. cummings. A couple of the stories reference a delightful poem by e.e. cummings called “Spring is Like a Perhaps Hand.” The poem speaks of change and possibilities. It can be read at http://eserver.org/poetry/spring-is-like-a.txt

Plays
William Shakespeare. A number of Shakespearean plays are referenced in this series. The plays are widely available but I like www.shakespeare-online.com for its clear layout and interesting commentary.
As You Like It. The title for the eighth story comes from something Rosalind says in this play. It’s one of several phoenix references in the Shakespearean canon. Sometimes Will referred to the legendary bird’s ability to die and be reborn from its own ashes. As such it is symbol of all sorts of rebirth. In this case, though, the bird is referenced for its legendary rarity – only one phoenix, says the legend, lived at a time. Read the entire play at http://www.shakespeare-online.com/plays/asuscenes.html.
Hamlet.
Charles says to Ethan – as Hamlet said to Horatio – “There is more in heaven and earth than is dreamed of in your philosophy.” The occasion of Hamlet saying that is his friend disbelieving in ghosts. In Charles’s case, he is chiding his friend who doesn’t believe that the woman who seems to be Jean could be someone else. Hamlet is widely believed to be the best of Shakespeare’s tragedies and is arguably the most famous play in the English language. Read it at http://www.shakespeareonline.com/plays/hamletscenes.html.
Henry VI, part 2. A brief passage from this play is referenced a couple of times in this series:
Now ‘tis the spring, and weeds are shallow-rooted;
Suffer them now, and they’ll outgrow the garden,
And choke the herbs for want of husbandry.

Ororo quotes this bit literally, inviting “Jean” to join her weeding. Metaphorically, it’s used to refer to the false Jean, who needs to be uprooted before she chokes the X-Men.
See http://www.shakespeare-online.com/plays/2kh6scenes.html to read the play.

Midsummer Night’s Dream
Scott quotes a famous line from this play to Logan, “The course of true love never did run smooth,” when the two of them are flying to Vermont in the last story of the series. He tries to say it lightly and claims he’s joking but Logan tells him he knows he isn’t. One of Shakespeare’s most engaging comedies, it can be found at http://www.shakespeare-online.com/plays/midsscenes.html

Novels
Mark Twain. _The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn_
This is the book that Scott is teaching in the first story. Like Scott, I love Huck Finn, and think it’s worth reading and rereading every few years. The controversy over its use as required reading in high school classrooms has been going on for some time, so I hypothesize it will still be an issue in the “not so distant future” when the X-Men movies take place. You can read the book lots of places, including http://etext.lib.virginia.edu/twain/huckfinn.html. A couple of essays concerning the advisability of teaching Huck Finn, with very different opinions, can be found at http://facstaffwebs.umes.edu/jhroache/huck_finn.htm and http://facstaffwebs.umes.edu/jhroache/huck_finn.htm

Thomas Wolfe. _You Can’t Go Home Again_. Wolfe’s best known novel is referenced by “Jean” when she tells Ororo that she is having difficulty feeling at home since her return. I was unable to find Wolfe’s classic novel online, but it would likely be available in most any bookstore or library.

Miscellaneous

Bible.
“Jean” says that Scott can only see “through a glass darkly.” It’s a quote from the King James translation of 1 Corinthians, a book of the Christian bible. The section it comes from is Chapter 13, known as the Love Chapter. The Christian bible can be found many places, including http://etext.lib.virginia.edu/rsv.browse.html with an option to see both King James and Revised Standard translations, with side-by-side text for comparison.

Sigmund Freud. There are a couple of quotes from and references to Freud, the father of psychoanalysis. Dr. Leeds quotes Freud’s famous statement that the hallmark of a healthy personality is the ability to love and to work – leiben und arbeiten. Scott briefly discusses Huck’s dilemma about whether or not to reveal Jim’s whereabouts in Freudian terms, when he’s teaching the book in the first story. Although Freud’s psychological theories are no longer generally accepted, his insight into human nature has made his work a strong influence on Western literature and well worth reading. Freud’s writings are easily available on the internet, in English translation. A very accessible work to start with is “The Psychopathology of Everyday Life” which can be found at http://psychclassics.yorku.ca/Freud/Psycho/