WHAT THEY DESERVE 
SUMMARY: Scott and Mystique may be enemies, but they find that their goals can 
actually be combined. 

DISCLAIMER: The X-people belong to Stan Lee, Bryan Singer and a bunch of other 
righteous dudes. The cops and doctors belong to me, although the names of the 
doctors belong to Michael Lehmann. ”Arsenic and Old Lace” belongs to Frank Capra. 
The poem belongs to Bo Setterlind. An so on. (Does anyone really care?) All the 
events belong to me, though. 

DISTRIBUTION: If you have any of my others, you can have this. Otherwise, ask 
first. THIS IS A SEQUEL TO ”GOOD INTENTIONS”. For those of you who haven’t read 
that story, or have forgotten: Scott and Rogue were kidnapped by doctors who 
experimented on them to ”cure” their powers. As a result of these experiments, 
Scott was blinded. The two of them managed to escape, but they had a hard time 
dealing with the physical and emotional trauma. 

NOTE 1: This is extremely out of canon. Even more extreme for those of you who are 
comic fans. 

NOTE 2: The film didn’t say much about Mystique’s personality, so I made one up. 
Also, I know that her affair with Sabretooth was over a long time ago, but since 
the film didn’t care much for comic continuity I don’t see why I should. 

	”Please don’t lie to me.”
	Scott tried to keep his voice calm, but under the circumstances he had to 
settle for keeping it from breaking. He was glad Jean had left the room.
	Nothing but breaths, for almost a minute. Slow, deep breaths. Did doctors 
always breathe like that when they had something difficult to say?
	”I’m not lying, Scott. Until the swelling is down, we can’t tell exactly 
what the damage is. But you’re right. There are no chances of full 
recovery.”
	”Partial?” Scott asked, trying to cling to some kind of hope.
	Hesitation before the answer. ”Slim.”
	Funny, that was supposed to be his nickname, not his chances of ever seeing 
the sun again. His head spun a little, and he got this crazy notion he was 
in an amusement park with a big sign: *Welcome to the world of the visually 
impaired.* Not that he could read signs anymore.
	His link with Jean grew stronger and he knew she was coming back before she 
opened the door. He also knew that she knew, and when she leant down beside 
him, he noticed her attempt to not show her grief. Well, why shouldn’t she 
grieve? He pictured himself at their upcoming wedding, walking with her down 
the aisle with his cane tapping the way. It was grotesque, impossible, but 
it was the way of things. All his hopes that it wouldn’t come to that had 
proved futile. For a moment, he wished he had never had this operation at 
all. Every way he had learned to adapt, everything he had won back during 
the past six months, they suddenly seemed like so very little things, 
compared to the lifetime of darkness stretching out in front of him. One 
step forward, two steps back.
	Tears slid down his cheeks, but his jaw set. Odds were there to be beaten, 
not to beat you. He couldn’t do anything about being blind, but he certainly 
wouldn’t accept being helpless. Scott Summers was a fighter. Always had 
been, always would be.

	Scott was relieved when he found a bench to sit down on. Although going out 
among people was actually more fun than he had thought, it was also 
exhausting, because there were so many things around him and so little to 
help him orientate. San Francisco was *big*.
	It was also located in a state that had recently come up with some pretty 
nasty anti-mutant laws, which had made him eager to get Jean out of there 
and her unwilling to leave. Eventually, his stubbornness had proved greater 
than hers, and she had folded to his arguments. She was needed at the 
school, the professor had specifically called and told her that. Just 
because he needed to stay for observation a week or two didn’t mean she had 
to be there too. She could always come back and pick him up later. Nobody 
was going to find out he was a mutant. The only way they could do that was 
by DNA tests, and they only tested people they arrested. All he had to do 
was not get arrested. Surely she trusted him not to get arrested?
	She did, and she reluctantly agreed to go home, leaving her cellphone with 
him so that she could always get in touch.
	All of his arguments had been true, but there was something he hadn’t told 
her. On the news there had been lots of discussions about the new mutant 
laws and the committee of politicians, scientists and others who were 
assigned to plan what to do with the captured mutants. One of the members of 
that committee was a Doctor Jason Dean. The name meant nothing to her, and 
he didn’t tell her what it meant to him. He didn’t know what to do about it, 
or if he could do anything to stop it.
	Scott reached for his portable CD player, trying to get his mind off the 
laws. The kids had given him a home-made CD with personal greetings to ”keep 
him company”. Some of them were so optimistic they were painful to listen to 
now, but others were a real comfort. He counted quietly to himself as he 
fastforwarded to 15, and Sarah’s voice reading a translation of a European 
poem.
	*Never again a mean word about broken violins!
	Once, I heard the Master himself play
	having only two strings to use.
	He stood among the trees
	playing his favourite instrument
	hymn after hymn, song after song
	crystallized pain
	and I knew:
	That violin was me!
	Others wouldn’t have considered me worth playing,
	but in His hands I was good enough.*
	He leaned back, listening to the words while trying to maintain a poker 
face. He refused to cry in public. Sympathy from strangers was one of the 
things he didn’t think he could ever learn to accept. All he wanted to do 
was fight them off, scream at them to leave him alone, to not make him more 
of an outcast than he already was. Real support was different, like the one 
he was getting from the kids. That helped him. Pity just made things worse.
	One of the people walking by stopped in front of his bench and turned to 
him.
	”Scott, honey, fancy meeting you here!” an affected female voice said.
	He frowned, knowing for certain he had never heard that voice before.
	”I’m sorry, I...” he started, but didn’t get any further before the woman 
slid her arm around his shoulders and something very cold touched his neck.
	”Come with me,” she said in a low voice. ”No tricks, or I’ll blow your 
brains out. Is that clear, Cyclops?”
	He did as she told him, fumbling for his cane without finding it. ”Who the 
hell are you?”
	She laughed, pushing him gently forward. ”Oh, that’s right, you have never 
seen me in this shape before.”
	Shape? Oh no. ”Mystique.”
	She pushed him to the ground and sat down on his chest. That action alone 
told him that they were now out of public sight. He could probably wrestle 
her down, but first he had to get that gun away from his neck.
	””What do you want?” he asked.
	”Victor was arrested this morning,” she said, and her voice shivered a 
little for the first time. ”You’re going to blast him out for me.”
	Sabretooth arrested? Any other time, he would have considered this good 
news. But with the laws running now... poor bastard.
	”I can’t.”
	The gun pressed down harder. ”Aren’t you supposed to be smart, Cyclops? 
Now, these people know I exist, so they’re not letting anyone in. With your 
help, that won’t be a problem, but I have to admit, I’m pretty desperate. 
Refusing to help me would not be a smart move.”
	”I’m not refusing. I can’t help you. I was caught myself six months ago by 
some doctors who destroyed my optic nerve. I don’t have my powers anymore.”
	He could feel the uncertainty running through her body. ”Destroyed? But 
then how can you...” Silence. ”You’re...”
	”Blind. Yeah.”
	In astonishment at this revelation, she lost concentration just enough for 
Scott to kick her off and rip the gun from her hand before she had time to 
shoot. They both rose, facing each others, waiting for the next move.
	It was Scott that finally made it, by slowly taking off his glasses. Even 
though he couldn’t see her, he guessed what Mystique’s thoughts must be.
	”I was telling you the truth. My beams are gone and I can’t see. But if 
there’s any other way I can help, I’m willing to do it. Not because you held 
a gun to my face, but because even though I think Sabretooth belongs in 
jail, he certainly doesn’t belong in a California one.”
	A short silence, and then her voice, low. ”Okay. I could use an 
accomplice.”
	He was surprised at her willingness to trust him. She didn’t ask any 
questions, didn’t treat it like a trap. This must really have gotten her off 
balance. For some reason, it had never occurred to him that the members of 
the Brotherhood could care as much about each other as the X-men did. If it 
had been Jean in that jail... he felt sick at the thought, and reached out a 
hand to Mystique.
	”I’m really sorry,” he said.
	She pulled back, offended. ”What are you, feeling sorry for me? I’m getting 
pity from a *powerless* mutant? What kind of pathetic wimp do you take me 
for?”
	She started to walk off, fast and annoyed, and he called after her.
	”Could you please help me out of here?”
	”Oh.” She stopped and returned, taking his arm in a rather harsh way. 
”Shouldn’t you have one of those canes or something?”
	”I do. It’s over by the bench where you attacked me.”
	”Oh,” she said again, her voice sullenly irritated the way it is when you 
feel stupid. ”Okay, we’ll go get it, and then we’ll plan something. I hope 
you’re as good a tactic as you claim.”
	It struck him that Mystique seemed to be a rather troublesome ally. But 
then again, he thought ironically, what had he expected?

	”Why are you slowing down?”
	Mystique’s impatience was refreshening in a way, but he had a feeling he 
would tire of it real soon. It wasn’t *his* fault Sabretooth had been 
arrested, and he didn’t much care for her way of behaving as if he was 
stalling on purpose.
	”This area is unknown to me, I need to locate.”
	”There’s nothing in front of you.”
	”That’s not the point.” If he moved too quickly, he would miss most of the 
sounds, the smells, the way the ground felt below his feet, in short, 
everything that told him what this street looked like. Not even his friends 
understood that need completely. To Mystique he couldn’t explain it at all.
	She sighed deeply. ”The motel is only a block away, can’t we just get 
there?”
	”If it’s that close, you have time to wait.”
	When they had reached the motel and she lead him inside, he deliberately 
slowed down even more, even though there was actually no need for it. 
Childish, certainly, but he wasn’t going to let this murderous wench boss 
him.
	”Oh for crying out loud,” she started, ”won’t you...”
	He couldn’t hold back a grin, and she stopped midsentence, letting go of 
his arm.
	”Are you fucking with me?” she asked. Strangely enough, and for the first 
time, he detected a trace of laughter in her voice.
	”A little.”
	There was no other reply to that than a brief snort, but when she grabbed 
his arm again, her grip was softer, and she stopped harassing him.
	The room had a humid smell, but seemed okay for a motel room. Mystique 
directed Scott to a chair and then sat down on the bed, which complained 
loudly through rusty springs. There was a long silence. Considering 
Mystique’s eagerness to get here, that was unexpected. Finally, Scott asked:
	”So, who’s body are you using now?”
	”I don’t know her name,” she answered. ”Remember how your shaggy friend 
stabbed me? There was a Jane Doe in the same hospital room as me, who died 
while I was there. She’s about the same size as me, so her shape is easy to 
use.”
	”What name are you using then?”
	”My own. Raven Darkholme.” A sharper tone in her voice. ”Why are you asking 
so much?”
	”I just wanted to know what to call you.”
	”Oh.” She thought for a second. ”Well, you can call me Raven and I’ll call 
you Scott.”
	”Sounds good to me.”
	Silence again. It wasn’t so strange they didn’t know what to say to each 
other, Scott thought. Last time they had met, they had tried to kill each 
other. But then again, a lot had been different last time they met, and even 
though they had separate ideas on how to treat humans, there were no 
differences when it came to atrocities committed to mutants.
	”How much do you know about Sabretooth?” Scott asked.
	”He’s kept in state prison,” she said, mimicking his neutral tone of voice. 
”I was in senator Kelly’s shape when they caught him, and, unfortunately, I 
blew that cover. Stupid thing to do.”
	He flinched at the bitterness in her voice. ”Listen, My... Raven, you can’t 
blame yourself...”
	”Oh, can’t I?” she said, biting voice. ”They know I exist! I can’t get 
through to him! If only I had kept the cover, maybe the senator’s influence 
could have helped him somehow... although I doubt it.” Quick breaths, almost 
sobs. He prayed that she wouldn’t cry. He was lousy at dealing with his own 
emotions and worse at dealing with other people’s, especially some ally that 
had recently been an enemy. Fortunately, her voice soon stabilised again. 
”Do you know what they do to mutants in this state? A positive DNA test is 
enough to put you away. With a record like Victor’s, he’s lucky if he gets a 
trial before they kill him or lock him up forever. I don’t know which would 
be worse. Victor can’t stand being caged, he’ll go nuts in a cell.”
	Scott noticed that she had used the word ”caged”, fitting to Sabretooth’s 
feral tendencies. At another time, he might have looked down on the man for 
those. Now he didn’t. In Raven’s voice, there was something that reminded 
him that animals of prey have pride and grandeur, and that a cage is always 
too small for them. An animal is not less than a man, it could be more.
	”We’ll get him out,” he said, trying to sound comforting.
	”How?” she asked.
	”I don’t know.”
	”Not much of help, then.”
	He realised that when he had offered his help, that was what she had 
accepted. Sympathy was never part of the deal. That was something he could 
completely respect -- but it would have been easier if he had actually known 
how to help her.

	He had gotten used to the examinations by now and was no longer stuck in 
dreadful memories every time he approached a doctor. At first there had been 
a jolt of panic every time, but now there was none. Not until this day, when 
a somber doctor told him it was time to go home.
	”There is really nothing else we can do for you.”
	He couldn’t go home. First of all, he had promised Raven to help her, and 
he was a man of his word. Second, and more important, he couldn’t just walk 
away when people were capturing mutants. Next time it could be New York 
State, and himself.
	”Shouldn’t I stay for a little longer? The gym sessions have really been 
useful.”
	That wasn’t a lie, either. Since he had been blinded, he had taken great 
effort in keeping up his physical standard, but it was easier here, where he 
was helped in his training by people who had dealt with blind athletes 
before.
	”You don’t actually need professional help to uphold those. You know the 
routine, you can ask anyone. Listen, I understand that this is frightening 
to you, but sooner or later...”
	When Scott realised the misunderstanding, it startled him so much he missed 
the rest. He supposed he would have been frightened, had there not been too 
many other things on his mind.
	”We’ll call someone to come pick you up.”
	”No. I’ll do that.”
	In the thoughts chasing through his mind, he had found something useful. 
Obviously, if he was picked up by Jean or one of his other colleagues, none 
of the staff would bother to make sure he was actually on the plane. If he 
could only convince him to let him leave alone, he could sneak away and stay 
in town. He would have to tell Jean some plausible lie about why he wouldn’t 
come home for a while, and lying wasn’t his strongest side, but he could 
always ask Raven.
	Of course. That was it. He wouldn’t have to go alone after all.
	”I’ll call... Jean, right away,” he said, standing up.
	He was glad that he wasn’t offered help. It would have been hard to explain 
the local call. Raven had given him the number to her motel room and he had 
tried to memorize it. He could only hope he remembered it correctly. Since 
he was using his cellphone, there was really no risk anyone would notice the 
number was incorrect, but he still thought the sound of each button pressed 
down was so loud someone would soon come and say: ”Hey, that’s not a New 
York number!”
	The voice in the other end of the line. ”Raven Darkholme.”
	Please, don’t let anybody have heard that.
	”Hi, Jean,” he said, in an attempt to sound normal. ”It’s me. There sending 
me home now.” He had to say more, they expected more. ”There hasn’t been any 
change... but we didn’t expect that either.”
	”No, I guess we didn’t.” She was playing along, which was good, but her 
voice told him she didn’t quite understand what was going on.
	”So, Jean, could you fly over and pick me up?”
	”Yeah,” she said. ”I’ll be there first thing tomorrow.”
	”Great! Can’t wait to see you again.” It wasn’t until he hung up that he 
realised how very ironic those words were. He had begun to use words like 
”see” in his vocabulary again, but right now his lifelong and complete 
blindness had been confirmed, it should be too painful.
	The reason it wasn’t had something to do with the fact that he had been 
expecting and fearing this moment for the past six months, but it had a lot 
more to do with something else. He was involved in a dangerous, illegal and 
almost hopeless plan to save mutants in trouble. For the first time since 
what had felt like a lifetime, he felt like Cyclops again.

	He knew Raven was good, but he hadn’t quite realised that she was *that* 
good. When she walked in that door with Jean’s way of walking, voice like 
Jean’s, the hand that took his exactly like Jean’s, it was hard even for him 
to remember that it wasn’t really Jean. The only thing that stopped his 
heart from beating faster was that there was no link, an absence as 
intrusive as if she had suddenly spoken with a bass voice.
	She didn’t kiss like Jean, either. It shocked him when her lips brushed 
against his, but then he realised that it made perfect sense. If it had been 
Jean, they would certainly have kissed, and so he pressed closer instead of 
pulling away, giving it every bit of passion he could. It must have been 
enough, because she gasped a little. Maybe he had overdone it. He had a 
feeling it was more of a private kiss than a public one.
	A man’s hand taking his. ”Goodbye, Scott. It’s been good to have you here.” 
No apologies for the lack of results. None were needed. He knew they had 
given it their best shot, and it wasn’t hard for him to smile at the unseen 
face.
	”It’s been good to be here.”
	Then he followed Raven outside, and by now the lack of linking was so 
fierce he was amazed nobody else noticed it. He had to learn optimistic 
thinking -- but you didn’t become a good leader by making half-hearted plans 
and rely on hope.
	They hadn’t walked long before Raven stopped.
	”What?” he asked. He knew they hadn’t reached her motel yet.
	”I should change. I can’t very well leave my room as a brunette and come 
back a redhead, can I? Cover for me.”
	She gently pushed him aside to hide her from view, and it struck him how 
much her way of treating him had changed over the past few days. They hadn’t 
come up with something really useful yet, but she knew his helpfulness was 
for real, and she treated him as an ally instead of a temporarily useful 
enemy.
	”Okay,” she said after a minute or so, her voice back to what it had 
sounded like for the past couple of days. ”I’m done, let’s go.”
	By now he knew the way to the motel and no longer had to slow her down. 
Bakery -- fountain -- rusty vane -- and here we are. He sat down in her worn 
old armchair and took a deep breath.
	”Time for the hard part. What am I going to tell Jean?”
	”Hm.” Raven moved around in the room, and he heard the snap of his suitcase 
opening. ”I guess the truth is out of the question?”
	”Definitely. Do you mind not messing with my stuff?”
	She didn’t listen. ”Yeah, Victor’s not going to like it when he realises 
you’re helping me out, I guess your people feel the same way. You could 
always say you met a woman.”
	”Funny. Please get out of my stuff, I need to keep them in order.”
	Something was thrown into his lap. ”What book is this?”
	He sighed and let his fingers move over it. ”Oliver Twist.”
	”Good one. You can actually read that stuff?”
	”Slowly, but yeah. What’s all this about?” he asked, indicating her 
restlessness.
	”I think better when I’m doing something. Okay, here it is. You simply tell 
Jean you need to stay in town a little longer, talk to a few people, get 
some stuff... tell her you’re getting a dog. Are you getting a dog?”
	”No. But it’s not a bad idea, that kind of thing could work. Thanks.” He 
picked up the phone, but before he dialed the number, he said: ”One more 
thing.”
	”Yes?”
	”Next time you need to think, use your own stuff.”

	He didn’t know if Jean believed a word he said. It was too far away for 
their link to work, and he hoped he had sounded believable. Raven claimed he 
had, and Raven was a great liar, so she ought to know. That didn’t stop his 
body from tensing every time the phone called. It could be Jean, demanding 
the truth, and then what would he say? This was none of his business anyway, 
it ought to be Magneto... but Magneto was in a prison even more secure than 
Sabretooth’s.
	A phone signal made him jerk immediately, and he had to force his breaths 
to slow down before he took it. ”Hello?”
	”Hi.” Nothing else, but with those vowels, he didn’t need anything else.
	”Rogue! Hi! What’s up?”
	”Not much.” Pause. ”I miss you. We all do.”
	He bit his lip. ”I miss you too, but there are some things I have to do.” 
It was even harder to lie to Rogue than to lie to Jean, and so he stayed at 
this half-truth.
	”Yeah, I know, I...” Her voice broke, and he heard muffled sobs. Oh, shit. 
Even if he had been there for her, he would have felt awful to hear her cry. 
Now, knowing that there was nothing he could do, it was even worse.
	”Are you okay?”
	”Am *I* okay!?” Now the sobs weren’t even muffled anymore. ”You’re the one 
in a house full of doctors... and they couldn’t even help you...”
	”Rogue, please,” he said helplessly. The last thing he wanted was the girl 
to cry for him.
	Attempts to quiet down. ”I’m sorry. I just wish there was something I could 
do. You’ve done so much for me.”
	That simple statement, that warmth in her voice. *Oh, Rogue, how could you 
ever think you’re not doing anything for me?* His thoughts just wouldn’t 
become words. ”Just don’t cry. I’m...” He couldn’t say that he was okay. 
Considering the circumstances, he was fine, but it was pretty crappy 
circumstances. ”We knew this could happen.”
	The door opened, and Raven’s rushed steps came over the floor. ”Scott, this 
is getting serious.”
	He hushed her and told Rogue: ”I have to get off.”
	”Who was that?”
	”Just a nurse. Take care, okay?” He turned off the phone and then turned to 
Raven. Even though he heard her better with his side to her face, habit was 
hard to break. ”What is it?”
	She read out loud from what must be a newspaper. ”’Prized MD on the 
’wildman’ case. Although the work of the California Committee of Mutant 
Control (CCMC) has shown great result, the case with the captured mutant 
wildman still puzzles police and scientists. Medical expert Elizabeth Finn 
has been called in from New York State...’”
	”Hold it,” Scott interrupted, feeling strangely cold. ”What was that name?”
	”Elizabeth Finn,” Raven repeated.
	”Betty Finn.” He stood up, too distressed to sit. ”We have to stop them. We 
have to get him out of there.”
	”That’s what I’ve been saying all along.”
	He shook his head. ”You don’t understand. Betty Finn designed the crystal 
that ruined my eyesight. There’s no telling what damage she can do to him.”
	Shocked silence filled the room for a while, but then there was a 
thoughtful question from Raven:
	”So you know the woman?”
	What kind of a question was that? Scott had to bite his lip so he wouldn’t 
start yelling at her. His voice was cold when he replied. ”Every day, I wake 
up to the effects of her work. Every night I can still hear the voices of 
those doctors, feel them touching me... So, yeah, I know her.”
	Raven’s voice was still calm, if anything a little milder. ”Do you know her 
enough to teach me to be her?”

	Scott paced back and forward in the motel room, waiting for Raven to call. 
Everything in his life seemed to circle around that cellphone. He shouldn’t 
have let her go through with this. If anything went wrong he would never 
find out. He wasn’t good at staying behind while other people acted, but he 
couldn’t very well come along. Raven was an excellent shapeshifter and a 
fine liar, but if he was with her, Betty Finn would most certainly have been 
suspicious anyway.
	Why did it take so long? She was supposed to call as soon as she had gone 
through with the kidnapping. Something must have happened. Maybe she ran in 
to someone who knew the reporter whose features she had borrowed, someone 
who could tell the difference.
	That was ridiculous. When Mystique was in a good shape, no one could tell 
the difference, not unless she let her tongue slip, and she was really good 
at avoiding that.
	Finally, the awaited signal came, and he threw himself at the phone. 
”Hello?”
	He had expected the man’s voice she had when leaving, but instead he got a 
slow, husky, cultivated, feminine one that made his spine chill. ”I’m done.”
	His mouth was dry, and even though he knew it had to be Raven, he couldn’t 
help asking: ”Who is this?”
	”It’s me, stupid. I did as you said and kept her alive, so I had to wait 
until we got to her hotel before I could take over. It’s the Palace Hotel. 
Take a cab and meet me here. Oh, and your name is Mr. Rochester.”
	”*What*!?” Scott had to laugh. ”You’re kidding me.”
	”Well, it’s the first thing I came up with! I had to rearrange the 
reservation to get a double room, and they asked what my ’friend’ was 
called.”
	”Double room.” Scott hadn’t thought that far. It made more sense than two 
singles, but the only thing that made him more tense than the thought of 
sharing a bed with Mystique was the thought of sharing it with the doctor.
	”Hey, you’re the one who didn’t want me to kill her, you have to help me 
keep watch. So to speak. Besides, it’s a whole suite, you could sleep in a 
chair.”
	”I guess. I’ll be right over then.”
	”Do that. Bye!”
	After a quick call for a cab, he shut off the phone and grabbed their 
belongings, grateful that they were already packed. *That* had been less 
than hilarious. Raven had become rather put off when she had packed his 
things and he had repacked them, allowing her only to pile them. He could 
understand her reaction. Not only was it a waste of time to do it twice, but 
this was the first time she had tried to do him a favour, and he had 
rejected it. Even though their behaviour now was most definitely friendly, 
they still didn’t understand each other. Maybe they never would.

After dealing with a friendly taxi driver, a friendly receptionist, 
friendly piccolos, the Devil and his grandmother (all very friendly), Scott 
knocked on the hotel room door.
	”Just a moment!” That voice again, and after a minute or so, the door 
opened. ”Hello, S-Simon!” He heard the vague slip of her tongue, even though 
the piccolo probably didn’t. ”I’m so glad you’re here. Come on in!”
	She gently pushed him inside, and then the changes in her voice told him 
she had turned to the piccolo. ”Thank you for your help.”
	Footsteps left and Raven closed the door.
	”Where is she?” he asked as soon as the piccolo’s footsteps had faded.
	”In the bedroom, chained to the bed.” Raven now spoke with a different 
voice, one he hadn’t heard in quite a while, and he realised she was back in 
her original shape.
	”Chained?”
	”I got some manacles from a kinky store.” Raven laughed a little. ”The 
bitch thought I was trying to seduce her when I followed her here. She 
seemed rather flattered, maybe she wouldn’t have minded the manacles if I 
had only undressed her.”
	Scott frowned. ”Don’t.” He didn’t usually mind joking in a stressed 
situation, not even dirty jokes, but this was different. Disoriented in the 
strange room, he took a few trying steps.
	”You try kidnapping a person in a hotel elevator,” Raven said , defensive 
to his dislike. ”Why didn’t you let me kill her? She probably deserves to 
die anyway.”
	”Lots of people deserve to die. That doesn’t give you the right to act as 
jury, judge and executioner.” He couldn’t find the bedroom door and was 
getting edgy.
	Raven’s hand on his arm, calming him down, had a cool roughness that wasn’t 
quite leathery but almost. He realized that he had never actually touched 
her in her real shape before.
	”I need to talk to her.”
	Without replying, she led him to the bedroom. There was someone else 
inside, someone who gave a surprised gasp.
	”Dr. Finn, meet my associate,” Raven said in a taunting voice. ”I believe 
you two have met before.”
	A rattle of chains indicated that the victim tried to escape. ”What do you 
want with me?” Her voice was low, but panicked.
	”I for one don’t want anything,” Raven said softly. ”Just the opportunity 
to use your body without intervention. I’d be just as happy seeing you dead. 
And, just to repeat the basic rules, if you scream, try to escape, try to 
evoke attention or behave less than well in any other way, you will die.”
	Scott didn’t like the way Raven used threats, it was too much like torture, 
but he didn’t object. He just took a few steps forward. ”I want something.” 
But what was it he wanted? Answers -- but he had them all. Every despicable 
thing they had done to him, they had explained thoroughly first. What they 
were doing, why they were doing it, why they were right. Regret, maybe. As 
if she would show any. For all he knew, she could have experimented on 
hundreds of mutants. But she remembered him, that gasp had told him that. 
His fate mattered to her, it *had* to matter. ”I want you to look at me, and 
know what you have done.”
	She started protesting immediately, in a reasoning tone despite her obvious 
fear, as if she was having a lecture. ”The crystal I invented was designed 
to stop the effects of your mutation, which, I might add, was an extremely 
dangerous one. From that point of view it was successful. As for your...” 
She fumbled for words, apparently unable to use any of the obvious ones. 
”That was an unfortunate side effect, that...”
	”*Side* effect? You’re talking about my life! Every single second of every 
single day for the rest of my life I will have to live blind because of you 
people! That is not a side effect!”
	He couldn’t stand it anymore and turned to leave.  He sat down on the first 
chair he found, leaning his head in his hands. One step away from 
hyperventilating.
	Raven’s footsteps weren’t her usual energetic ones as she walked in and 
closed the door behind her. She seemed almost cautious. *Please don’t let 
her talk to me.*
	”If you don’t want to go through with this, I understand.”
	”We have to get him out.”
	”Yes, but I could still kill her.”
	He should have known she would come to that. ”No.”
	A deep sigh, then a short silence. ”I’m not exactly keen on taking all the 
watching hours, but I could do it.”
	Second time she tried to make him a favour, and he rejected it again. He 
was Cyclops, he wasn’t going to be intimidated by some doctor. ”No, I can do 
it.” He hoped that was true. Especially since he would have to tell Raven 
everything to prepare her for being Dr. Finn. She had said she would need 
details, but he wasn’t sure she wanted them, and he was positive he didn’t 
want to tell.
	As if any of them had a choice.

	”Any other flaws?”
	For the past hour he had drilled Raven in how to be Betty Finn, every 
aspect he could remember. Now she knew every she had to know, her way of 
speaking was perfect, her moves were perfect from what he could tell, but 
there was still something missing. He leaned back, pondering her appearance 
one piece at a time.
	”You don’t smell right.”
	She chuckled. ”Now you sound like Wolverine. What’s wrong with my smell?”
	”No smoke.” Betty Finn was a heavy smoker, and Raven had gotten the voice, 
but not the smell.
	”Alright, just a minute.” She went into the bedroom, and he heard her get 
redressed. Her mutant ability allowed her to imitate any clothing, but 
apparently cigarette smoke was too much for her. Coming back, she held her 
arm to his face. ”Better?”
	”Much better.”
	Her hand almost touched him, and he felt his body go tense. Next to her 
voice, those hands was what he knew best of Dr. Finn’s appearance, and what 
he liked the least. He recalled the times before the operation, the 
impersonal touch by almighty hands and not even any faces attached to them.
	The real Dr. Finn he would never even have considered touching voluntarily, 
but the simple knowledge that this was Raven, even if it didn’t feel like 
it, made him give in to his curiosity. He needed to know that face. Slowly 
he followed the hand to its shoulder and then up to the head, running his 
fingers over her face. With long hair that was taken up, small metal-framed 
glasses, a fine Roman nose and a softly curved chin, she was most definitely 
good looking, but the coldness shone through even in Raven’s version.
	”Am I satisfying?” she asked. The voice might have been Dr. Finn’s, but the 
tone was Raven’s, with that constant touch of sensuality. Without thinking, 
he raised his hand and slapped her so hard she stumbled backwards, and he 
heard her fall into a chair.
	Scott had never hit a woman before in his life, except in battle 
situations, and when his mind caught up with his body he gasped, shocked at 
his own ferocity.
	”I’m... I’m so sorry,” he stammered.
	During everything he had taught Raven, he had stayed calm, avoided any 
thought but what facts could be necessary for her to know. Never mind how 
those facts affected him, never mind the nightmares he had far too often, 
and that he knew Rogue had too. This was a mission, emotions were not 
beneficial.
	He had hit an unarmed woman for no obvious reason. He had always thought 
that was something only mindless brutes did, and he knew it was inexcusable. 
Yet he had done it.
	”You... be careful when you talk to him,” he said, indicating the meeting 
she would have with Dr. Dean, the one that, if she was good enough, would 
grant them permission to enter the prison. It was another thing he had to 
send her out on without being able to keep watch over her. He was supposed 
to help her, but instead he let her do all the dirty work. And now he had 
hit her.
	”I will.” She walked up to him, and her hands, now back to mutant, touched 
his face. ”If it had been me they had done it to, I would have wanted them 
dead. I don’t know if you’re a God damned hero or just stupid, but I got to 
admire you.”
	She pulled away her hands again. ”I’m going to be late.”
	He knew exactly how hard he had hit her, and was amazed at how lightly she 
took it. ”There will be a shiner.”
	”I can disguise one.”
	They could both hide their hurt, they would both pretend like this never 
happened. Mission comes first, as always.

	He had let her use the bathroom. Usually, when she claimed she had to go, 
Raven would hand her a pot and take of her pants, but he wasn’t prepared to 
do that. On the other hand, he couldn’t very well let her lie there and wet 
her pants, so he took the manacle off the bed. Her first reaction was to 
run, but he grabbed her instantly and locked her up again.
	”Do you need to go or not?” he asked harshly.
	”Yes.”
	”Then don’t fight me.”
	He released her again, but this time he chained the loose end of the 
manacle to his own wrist, and on the way to the bathroom he ran his free 
hand over the coffee table to find the gun Raven had left there. So far he 
had refused to use it even for intimidation, but he was not the kind to turn 
weak in a difficult situation.
	”I’ll shoot you if you make any trouble,” he said, and he meant it. He 
probably wouldn’t shoot to kill, but there was no need for her to know that.
	That kept her down for a while, but when she had finished what she needed 
to do and they were about to leave the bathroom, she took another chance and 
managed to hit the gun out of his hand. She was stronger than he had 
expected -- or maybe it was just fear. He threw them both to the ground and 
pounded his elbows in her chest.
	There had been footsteps outside, but he had barely noticed them. Not until 
he heard a hoarse laughter and the exclamation: ”Jason!” He stiffed, and 
seconds later a key rattled in the lock.
	”One move, one sound, and you’re dead,” he whispered to Dr. Finn. The gun 
was out of his reach, but if necessary, he wouldn’t need it. With one hand 
he forced her down, and with the other he kept her mouth shut.
	The door opened and there were voices right outside the bathroom door.
	”So, tell me about this new partner of yours,” Dr. Dean said. ”Seems to me 
he’s doing more than financing your projects. How come I haven’t heard of 
him earlier?”
	”Do I usually discuss my personal life with you?” she asked, and Scott 
grimaced hearing the playful tone in her voice. That flirty enjoyment was 
more Raven than the doctor, and he hoped she didn’t take it too far.
	”Listen.” Dr. Dean sounded awkward. ”I know you resented what we... what 
happened, with Ronnie, but Heather had a point.”
	”You’d think after all that time he spent staring down her cleavage, she’d 
be on his side,” Raven said shortly, and Scott realized exactly how amazing 
she was. All he had told her was that the two doctors who spent most time 
with him and Rogue, Dr. Sawyer and Dr. Chandler, had seemed a little 
attracted to each other. Yet, when she talked like that, it was as if she 
knew as much as Dr. Dean did. No wonder that she had managed to pull off the 
Senator Kelly charade for so long.
	Something tickled Scott’s fingers, and he realized that Dr. Finn was 
crying. That surprised him. It wasn’t as if he was really hurting her or 
anything.
	”Do we have to talk about that?” A touch of tenderness in his voice. Oh, 
wonderful, now they were flirting with each other. ”Everything went well 
today. We haven’t been able to talk like civil people for ages. I miss that. 
I always found you a very talented woman.”
	Raven’s back brushed against the bathroom door. Apparently the doctor was 
making a move. Dr Finn’s weeping had moved on to sobs, and although Scott 
still held his hand over her mouth, he feared that something might be heard 
through the door.
	A sharp breath outside, and then Raven’s voice, cold: ”I think you should 
leave, Jason.”
	A pleading: ”Betty...”
	”I’m grateful for your help, and I assure you that I will do my best at 
this project.” A dismissal worthy of the original Dr. Finn, and without any 
signs of listening to his protests, the door opened and shut.
	Seconds later, the bathroom door was flung open. ”What the *hell* are you 
doing, humping the hostage on the bathroom floor?”
	Scott stood up and dragged Dr. Finn with him. ”I’m not ’humping’ anybody,” 
he said. ”She had to go to the bathroom, what was I supposed to do?”
	”The usual!” Raven said. ”Make her use the pot.”
	”I’m not pulling off that woman’s pants.”
	Raven didn’t argue any more, instead she turned her anger to the doctor. 
”What are you blubbering about?”
	”Bastard...” she mumbled.
	”It’s not like I even hurt her,” Scott snapped. He had rarely found it as 
difficult to keep control as now, forced close to an enemy that had hurt him 
so much, but he had succeeded, and her whimpering annoyed him.
	”She’s not talking about you,” Raven replied, and she leaned closer to the 
other woman. ”Didn’t bother you to cripple a few mutants, but I guess it’s 
not as much fun when they turn on their own, is it? You sicken me.”
	She left the bathroom and called out for Scott.
	”Get her back to the bed and come over here. We’re should prepare for the 
breakout.”

	She was a good driver, keeping a steady speed and making the curves so 
softly he could barely feel them. Apparently she wasn’t half as nervous as 
he was. It was that need of control again. She had told him about her 
arrangements, every detail. Dr. Finn was not only still chained up, but also 
gagged. The ”do not disturb” sign was on the door handle, the cleaning lady 
had been bribed to leave the room alone for a while -- who cared what she 
thought the reason was? -- Raven had taken care of everything, it was all 
under control. But he wasn’t the one controlling it, and that made him 
nervous.
	*Focus. Get all that out of your head. Concentrate on the mission.* In her 
purse, he knew, there was a document signed by Jason Dean, allowing 
Elizabeth Finn and Simon Rochester entry to the prison. That would get them 
in. Getting them out would be a matter of force.
	”Do you miss your powers?” Her voice was neutral, as in casual 
conversation, but the question was unexpected.
	”What?”
	”I was thinking... even if they had succeeded, would you still be doing 
this? Do you miss your powers or just your sight?”
	Did he? He recalled the endless times he has cursed his visor, wished he 
didn’t need it. The constant fear of losing it and maybe hurting someone. 
His entire personality was formed by this. What was this need of control if 
not the urge to master the one thing that was always out of his hands? 
People would call him cursed, and he wouldn’t argue with it, beause he often 
*felt* that way.
	”Yes.” His answer was low; he didn’t know how to explain it.
	”I thought so.” There was a short silence before she continued: ”They’ll 
never get that, how we can be proud of being mutants. For them, we’re just 
some defects that need correction.”
	Although he agreed with her bitterness, he felt annoyed.
	”You should talk.”
	”What’s that supposed to mean?”
	”Well, what’s the difference between what they did and what you tried to 
do? ’The world will be so much better if *they* are more like *us*.’ Forcing 
a happy ending without asking yourself who it is happy for, and certainly 
not stopping to check if it will actually work properly.”
	”Hey!” For the first time, there was a slight jerking motion when the car 
took a curve. ”Don’t take this out on me. At least we tried to do something 
instead of just hanging around waiting for people to suddenly decide that 
mutants are cosy little beings after all, as if the discrimination would 
ever stop unless we did something.”
	”It won’t ever stop! Do you honestly think, by turning people into mutants, 
you would make them better people? People will always find a reason to hate 
each other. It’s the hate you have to work away, not the reasons. And you 
don’t do that by violence.”
	”Oh, but you do it by licking the boot that kicks you?”
	For the next few minutes they both talked at once, without listening, then 
there was another silence.
	”I thought we were staying away from ideology,” Raven finally said.
	”Sorry.”
	”Yeah.” Deep sigh. ”So, Simon...”
	He smiled a little. ”So, Betty?”
	”Are you ready?”
	”Not really.”
	”Me neither. But here we are.”
	She pulled the car over and helped him out, and he took her hand to try and 
show her he had meant that apology. She drew a shaky breath.
	”Scott,” she said, using his real name for the first time since this 
charade started, ”if we manage this, I promise to always spare your life.”
	He understood. She couldn’t promise never to fight him. They would always 
be too different to agree, and their teams were still enemies. ”Same here.”
	”Think we’ll make it?” Uncertainty. Sabretooth must really mean a lot to 
her.
	”Sure we will.” Hesitating, he dared to ask what he had been wondering all 
the time: ”You two... are you lovers?”
	Her answer was barely a whisper, and she walked away in a fast pace before 
he had time to react. ”I have a child with him.”

	He had no time to question her further and probably wouldn’t have anyway, 
since she seemed to regret ever saying anything. The only thing she told him 
before fully taking on her act as Betty Finn was to take off his glasses.
	”Why?” he asked, not particularly willing to give in to her request.
	”If they see that you’re actually blind, it will make them less 
suspicious.”
	Oh, marvellous. He should have known there was nothing she couldn’t use in 
a plan. However, considering the change of attitude people had given him 
lately, she had a point. Sighing a little, he folded up the glasses and put 
them in the pocket of his jacket. His face felt oddly naked. Still, he 
guessed it was worth it, if the mission succeeded.
	Not if. There was no if. It had to succeed. The bare thought of someone 
else in his situation, anyone else, even Sabretooth, was sickening. He would 
never be able to explain to the X-men why he did this, teaming up with an 
enemy to get another enemy out of jail. Even Xavier probably wouldn’t 
understand; after all, he had let Magneto stay in his prison and those two 
were *friends*. Only Rogue would know exactly why he did it.
	He kept his hand on Raven’s arm, too deep in his thoughts to register much 
around him, but he wasn’t too far gone to notice when they reached the main 
entrance. Some guy opened for them, and when Raven gave him their names and 
documents he let them inside, having them wait in some kind of hallway while 
he called on people to pick them up.
	Raven went through an enormous effort to get Scott comfortably seated in a 
chair, and he raised an eyebrow in surprise. She wasn’t exactly the fussy 
type, and she knew more than well that he could manage on his own. Then it 
struck him that she was trying to make him appear helpless. It wasn’t an act 
he had done previously, and he didn’t like it much, but he went along with 
it.
	A rather heavy someone came towards them, and the inner door opened with a 
buzzing sound.
	”Dr. Finn? I’m detective lieutentant Benton. Glad to have you here. And 
Mr... Rochester?”
	The question mark was barely apparent. Diplomatic fellow. He clearly hadn’t 
expected more than one person, but didn’t want to let it show.
	”That’s me,” Scott said, smiling. He didn’t offer his hand. Just because he 
didn’t like this game didn’t mean he didn’t know how to play it. The 
policeman would reach out his own automatically, and then feel embarrassed 
when Scott didn’t notice. And when you’re embarrassed, you don’t ask 
questions.
	”Simon is my associate,” Raven said, and even though her voice had the icy 
shade of the person she imitated, there was something warmer in it that made 
Scott long for Jean. There was no way Benton could have missed it.
	”Mostly doing the finances,” Scott said, ”but I’m interested in the science 
as well.”
	”Oh, okay,” the young man said, clearly not able to enter a discussion of 
that topic. ”I’ll take you to captain Willis and we’ll talk through the 
formalities. Then you’ll get to see the wildman. I mean... meet. Sorry.”
	Normally, Scott wouldn’t even have noticed the slip and the half apology 
following it, he was too used to it, but now he was too tense not to. He was 
more used to direct fighting than deception, and was feeling extremely 
self-conscious. ”Thank you.”
	They went through the hallway and entered an office, where an older man 
greeted them.
	”We’ve met before,” he said to Raven, and Scott’s heart skipped a beat. 
That was really the last thing they needed.
	Fortunately, the man continued: ”I don’t expect you to remember me. I was 
part of the team that looked for those mutants that got away in New York.”
	”Oh, right!” Raven sounded unsure the way you do when you don’t remember 
but don’t want to let it show. ”Too bad you never found them. Especially 
considering that the girl robbed a man.”
	”Yeah, Jesus...” The captain chuckled a little. ”Clothes and all, but left 
his car. Mighty considerate of her. I heard one of your crew had helped 
them?”
	”Ronnie Sawyer. We took care of that. Can we get on with this?”
	”Of course.” They sat down around a table, and Scott listened to the 
scraping of pens and soft thuds of stamps. These people knew there was a 
shapeshifter around, and yet they didn’t suspect a thing, because Raven was 
so talented and well-informed. And himself? Since they trusted her they 
trusted him, and also, as Raven had pointed out, it probably helped that 
they could verify that his eyes were actually unseeing. No trick there.
	”Sir?” The captain had turned to him, considerant and slightly afraid to 
offend. ”Are you sure you should go in there? The wildman is dangerous, and 
we can’t sedate him.”
	”I’m sure I will be fine.” It wasn’t Sabretooth that made his mouth dry. He 
wouldn’t have liked having to fight him now, without his powers, but since 
they would be on the same side, it wouldn’t matter. The cops, on the other 
hand, may not have superpowers, but they had guns, and it’s hard to dodge a 
gun when you don’t know where it’s aiming.
	He had promised Jean an easter wedding, and he had no intention of making 
it a funeral instead. Getting Sabretooth out of here was the prime mission, 
but  everyone staying alive was a close second.

	They walked through the corridors, two guards trailing them. Scott barely 
listened to Raven’s faked entusiasm as she told Benton everything you could 
do to a subject with enhanced healing ability. It made him feel a little 
sick. He wondered if she actually knew what she was talking about or just 
had a really morbid imagination. The worst part was, the cop acted like 
there was nothing peculiar at all about her suggestions.
	There was a slight stop in action as Benton opened the last door, and then 
they entered the room in front of Sabretooth’s cell -- his ”cage” as Raven 
had put it. Scott had heard his growl for quite some time, an now those 
growl grew louder. They all stopped. There was a guard right next to Scott, 
his hand almost touched the man’s side and when he moved his fingers a 
little they brushed against a holster. He softly moved his cane over to his 
left hand and moved the right one a little closer to the gun. The guard 
didn’t react. Okay from here on it was improvisation only.
	”Okay, here he is,” Benton said, and Sabretooth roared at the man. ”I don’t 
quite know how you’re going to deal with him, though. He’s very strong, and 
as I said, almost impossible to sedate...”
	Scott was standing behind the others, but it still didn’t take long for 
Sabretooth to recognize him. ”What are you doing here -- *Cyclops*?” he 
snarled.
	No time to lose. In the startled pause that followed he question, Scott 
grabbed the gun that had been tickling his hand, and raised it to the 
guard’s head.
	”Breaking you out.” The guard tried to grab him, but he avoided the arm 
with ease. You’d think a policeman wouldn’t be so noisy. ”Nice and easy, 
now.”
	There was a thud from the other side of the room. Scott’s hand didn’t 
flicker, but he moved his head slightly. ”Raven?” he called.
	”I’m okay,” Raven said, and he noticed that she now used her real voice. 
”Got the keys.”
	He didn’t have time to try and make sense of the fighting that followed, 
since the guard he threatened was trying another attack. This time, the man 
moved more quietly and managed to grab him, sending his cane whirling off 
somewhere. Damn. He responded with a punch that made the guard fly 
backwards. Without really listening, he heard sounds of fighting from Raven 
as well.
	”Don’t even think about it,” she told someone, and then there was another 
loud thud, followed by the clicking of keys that told him she was successful 
in unlocking the cell.
	That was good, since it meant getting the odds in their favour, but he had 
other things on his mind. The guard was getting serious and he had to make a 
decision. Either get into a fist fight, or back up his threat and use the 
gun. He cocked it quickly and lowered it to what he judged to be a safe 
height. After all, he didn’t want to kill the man. Another blow sent him to 
the floor, and a shot went off. There was an annoyed snarl from Sabretooth. 
Well, if it had hit *him*, it couldn’t have done much damage. Scott rose 
quickly and tried again. His experience with fire arms wasn’t particularly 
big, but his ability to aim had always been extremely precise, and so he 
didn’t hesitate to fire. The man tumbled backwards with a surprised yelp.
	”Not bad,” Raven said, right by his ear.
	”Location?” he asked.
	”Low thigh,” she replied, and he nodded, satisfied.
	”What’s wrong with *him*?” Sabretooth asked, contempt in his voice. There 
was a large something hitting the wall, followed by a moan. Probably Benton.
	”He’s blind, get over it,” Raven snapped at him. For a lover, she wasn’t 
particularly affectionate.
	That reminded Scott. ”Where’s my cane?”
	An annoyed sigh from Raven. ”I got it.” She didn’t have time to give it to 
him, because the guards had started moving again. They had to leave, and she 
took his hand, dragging him with her. Not his favourite way of being guided, 
but it would have to do. ”Come on, get out!”
	She opened the door to the corridor and when they had all hurried outside, 
she closed it behind them, locking the guards in. It wouldn’t help them 
much. There must be surveillance cameras all over the place, and Scott could 
already hear people heading their way. Probably a whole lot more than three, 
this time.
	”Cover Scott,” Raven told Sabretooth, and there was an immediate cry of 
protest from both men.
	”I’m not babysitting an X-man,” Sabretooth growled.
	”Good, ’cause I don’t need babysitting,” Scott snapped back.
	”Cut out the testosterone!” Raven said. ”We need to move fast and dodge 
bullets. You’re not very good at either. And Victor, he’s doing this to keep 
you out of his position, so a little gratitude isn’t wrong. Oh, dammit!”
	The doors opened, and there were shots coming from Raven’s direction, 
followed by more of those from the policemen. Scott didn’t want to kill 
anyone unless it was absolutely necessary, and so he aimed low or high, but 
tried to keep it out of lethal height. It wasn’t very easy, since he 
couldn’t be sure where the cops were exactly.
	”Move!” Raven yelled to Sabretooth, and the big man headed forward, 
practically plowing into the policemen. Unless they were unusually 
incompetent, they must have hit him at least once, but as long as there 
weren’t too many shots, that would only slow him down temporarily.
	Then there was a cry of pain, and the shooting stopped. Scott’s heart 
speeded, and he tried to understand what was going on. Sabretooth was still 
fighting his way forward, hitting the policemen with something that wasn’t 
his fists, and not a gun either, it was much too soft for that... Scott 
finally put two and two together and grimaced a little. It was a human body.
	A man was shoved right at him, someone who was still breathing... and still 
armed. Scott found the gun just in time to push it away a little, and 
although the shot grazed his arm, it didn’t actually harm him. Before the 
man had time to shoot again, Scott tore the gun from his hand and then hit 
him in the head with his own. While he was still falling, Scott put a knee 
under his jaw that sent him flying to the wall. That should keep him down 
for a while.
	”Disarm them first, you schmuck!” Raven yelled at Sabretooth. Obviously she 
had the same kind of problem.
	He must have listened, for the next guy coming in Scott’s direction made no 
attempt to fire. Yet he was harder to fight than the other one. Although 
guns are really handy to shoot someone, their use in a wrestling situation 
is limited -- especially if they’re the reason you’re wrestling.
	The man flinched as a flying foot made connection with his body, and even 
Scott staggered backwards a bit from the impact. Raven seemed to have landed 
hard, but quickly went back to her feet.
	”Don’t need babysitting, huh?” she snorted, and Scott grinned a little.
	”Thanks,” he panted.
	”No prob.” She leaned down for a moment. ”Oops.”
	”Oops what?”
	”Nothing.” Again, she dragged him away. It was a strange kind of fight, 
Raven dragging him off somewhere, then full stop to fight while hiding 
behind Sabretooth, who used people for shields. He wondered how much of this 
confusion was because he couldn’t see, and how much was because the 
Brotherhood simply had a weird way of fighting.
	Another door opening, a push through, and a slam behind him. Next stop was 
definitely less hectic, with only a quick roaring fight from Sabretooth 
before they moved on. Scott wondered how many of the policemen had survived 
their breakout and was entirely grateful he didn’t have to know. None of the 
ones he had close encounter with were likely to have died from it, that was 
all he could say.
	There was a final shot from Raven followed by a cry of pain, and then 
another door. Only, this time it actually led outside.
	He couldn’t believe their luck as Raven pushed him into the backseat of the 
car, and he sent thanks to a God he didn’t know if he believed in.
	”Now would be a perfect time to just ride straight into the sunset,” Raven 
said when she had started the car, tires screaming below.
	”We need to finish things at the hotel,” Scott reminded her.
	”I know.” She sighed. ”I hate you, X-man.”

”Do you still have my cane?” Scott asked.
	”Ah.” Raven sounded a little guilty. ”I do, it’s just that it’s... a little 
bent.”
	”I can take care of that,” Sabretooth offered sullenly. A short while 
later, he said: ”Here you go,” and before Scott could react, the tip of the 
cane had hit him in the head.
	”Victor, sometimes you’re such an idiot,” Raven told her lover.
	He grunted. After a short silence, he said: ”I missed you.”
	Scott smiled, bending down his head so the people in the front seat 
wouldn’t notice. If Raven was anything like the women he knew, she’d melt 
from that. To give them some privacy, he pretended like he was completely 
preoccupied with checking the cane. He had been hesitant of getting a metal 
one -- ever since the fight with Magneto ”metal” was enough to set his 
warning system on -- but now he was grateful for it. Anything else would 
probably have broken in the fight.
	Even though Raven was still driving too steadily for anything to *really* 
be going on in the front seat, the atmosphere was most definitely getting 
steamy. There was a small pleased sound that was not quite a laugh coming 
from Raven. Seconds later, another sound made Scott frown. It didn’t come 
from the motor, but at first he couldn’t quite identify it, even though it 
seemed familiar. Then he realized that it was Sabretooth purring. Somehow he 
had never thought of something so benign coming from his vocal chords. 
Still, he couldn’t help but wonder what kind of love making that beast could 
provide.
	Before he let *that* thought get any further, he quickly dived into another 
part of his mind. He didn’t like the thought that came up much better.
	”How many died in there?” he asked.
	The others immediately ended their little caressing.
	”I just killed one,” Raven said. ”The one that *you*,” adressing her lover, 
”didn’t disarm before you threw him at me. Apart from that, I aimed low, and 
they mostly stayed out of the way. Figured you’d like it that way.”
	”You’re fighting to please him?” Sabretooth growled, jealous.
	”So what? We got out, didn’t we? And I didn’t see you slaying left and 
right!”
	”Ripped one’s throat,” Sabretooth reminded her. ”And the one I gutted maybe 
won’t live.” He sounded oddly proud.
	”What about that shield of yours?”
	”Didn’t kill him. They did.”
	”Yeah, because you pulled him in front of you.” Raven’s voice didn’t reveal 
much regard for his brain capacity.
	”They shot me twice. I didn’t like that. Just because I heal, doesn’t mean 
I don’t hurt.”
	”Just four then,” Scott said. He had feared worse. Still, four was four too 
many. Most of them were just police officers doing their job. The big bad 
boys were still out there. All he had done was rescue one homicidal 
criminal.
	He could no longer hear sirens behind them, and soon Raven slowed down, 
although Scott had a feeling she still drove around most of San Francisco. 
He wholeheartedly approved of that. No need in leading them directly to the 
hotel.
	”We’re soon there,” she told them in Dr. Finn’s voice. He hoped that after 
this day, he would no longer have to hear it. ”Victor, get down.”
	Sabretooth snarled a bit, but did as he was told. Soon the car stopped 
altogether. It was time for their final act as Betty and Simon. Scott hoped 
they would pull it off this time as well.

	When he entered the hotel lobby, he immediately felt her presence with a 
strength that shocked him after this time apart. He longed to throw himself 
at her, to feel that lovely hair tangled up around his fingers once again, 
but he managed to pull himself out of it and only send one, very fierce, 
thought: *Call me Simon. Keep calm, and call me Simon.*
	”Simon!” Jean’s voice said from another part of the lobby, where he knew 
there were some armchairs. She walked towards him, quickly, but not too 
quickly.
	Raven’s arm stiffened in the grip of his arm, and he pressed it gently, 
urging her to move forward, play along.
	”Jean?” he said. ”I’m glad you came. We’ll join you in just a second. You 
remember Betty, don’t you?”
	”Of course,” Jean said, and he knew she had recognized Mystique. *Scott, 
what’s going on?*
	The thoughts flooded his mind, and he felt her stopping them, telling him 
to calm down, so he just told her the most urgent. *The police are after us. 
We broke Sabretooth out of jail, and we have kidnapped a woman.* They moved 
towards the elevators, and soon the familiar tinkle announced that it had 
entered their floor.
	*WHAT!?* He honestly hoped the shock in her mental voice didn’t show in her 
expression.
	*I had to do it. She was one of the doctors.* He didn’t have to explain 
what doctors. *I couldn’t let them go through with it again. Not even with 
Sabretooth.* He couldn’t explain why, it was too messed up even for him to 
understand, and after the death of those cops he wondered if this had really 
been the right thing to do. It didn’t matter if it wasn’t, he couldn’t have 
done it differently.
	Jean didn’t argue, and he had a felling some of the messed up thoughts in 
his mind had been broadcasted as well. All three of them got out of the 
elevator and into the suite.
	”So, Jean Grey,” Raven said sarcastically, ”how did you find us?”
	”The professor used Cerebro.” She turned to Scott. ”Did you really think I 
believed what you told me? Even without the link, I know a blatant lie when 
I hear it.”
	”Well, you have to decide,” Raven said. ”Are you with us or against us? And 
remember, this time your own lover will be busted.”
	”With you, obviously.” *And I trusted you not to get arrested,* Jean chided 
him. ”Is she in there?”
	”Yeah,” Raven said. She was already fixing up their stuff, and didn’t stop 
to ask how Jean knew about Dr. Finn. She was an intelligent woman and had 
probably figured it out.
	Scott followed Jean into the bedroom and stopped behind her. She was 
standing by the door, staring at the doctor. She didn’t say anything, and he 
tried looking into her mind to see what she was thinking. What he got was a 
mental smile followed by an image, and he suddenly realized that it wasn’t 
just Raven being dirtyminded, the entire situation actually looked a bit 
kinky.
	”I’ll take off the gag now,” he said, moving past Jean to the bed. *Turn on 
the TV, see if you can find an action movie.* Jean obeyed him, and 
deliberately turned up the volume enough so that any cries from Dr. Finn 
would be thought to be part of the show. He put the key to the manacles on 
the nightstand, where the first person entering the room was sure to find 
it, and then removed the gag. It was wet from tears. Despite his loathing 
for the woman, he actually felt a little sorry for her. Xavier had always 
said information would change the public opinion of mutants. Kidnapping sure 
as hell wouldn’t, and he knew what she felt like.
	”We’ll be leaving now,” he said, in a kinder tone than he had ever used 
before. It was easier dealing with her now that he never had to meet her 
again. ”Someone will find you soon.”
	”Who is she?” Dr. Finn whispered.
	”My girlfriend,” Scott said shortly. He turned to leave, and his fingers 
brushed against Jean’s arm. ”You coming?”
	”Sure.” She followed him outside. ”That woman... She was so small.”
	Dr. Finn was a rather tall woman, but he knew what she meant. He had 
realized the same thing when he ran off from the doctors in the first place, 
when Rogue stopped to talk to Dr. Sawyer. All those fancy words and screwed 
up ideals aside, Dr. Sawyer had just been a man like anyone else, someone 
who had made a terrible mistake and was trying to make up for it. The only 
difference between the two doctors in that respect was that Dr. Finn had 
never admitted her own imperfection. Never would.
	”I put the sign on the door, the cleaning woman won’t skip us this time,” 
Raven said. ”All finished.”
	They left the room and locked it, and they were halfway to the elevator 
when Scott felt Jean’s sudden concern.
	”What’s wrong?”
	”Is there some other way down? There are people heading this way. Looking 
for us.”
	Scott let a curse escape his lips, and Raven provided them with more than 
one.
	”There must be something,” she said, looking around. ”Wait a second.”
	She took a few steps away and there was a short pause. Of course, there had 
to be a map showing the exits, in case of fire. ”This way.”
	They hurried down the stairs, several stairs, and Scott had a distinct 
feeling Jean was giving him some telekinetic help, because at this speed he 
should already have bumped into something or missed a step. Jean’s tension 
was always in his mind, but not until they had already passed by several 
floors did he actually hear any followers. He stiffened, and Jean pressed 
his hand. *We’re almost down.*
	Raven was ahead of them, and her steps slowed down. They couldn’t come 
rushing out like a bunch of fugitives, even if that was what they were. 
Scott could hear the clatter of metal utensils telling him they were 
approaching the kitchen.
	”Guests aren’t allowed in here,” someone told them as they passed through 
the crowded room.
	”It’s an emergency,” Raven said. ”We have to get to the hospital right 
away.”
	”Oh.” The man’s voice immediately changed from irritated to concerned. ”Is 
there anything I can do?”
	”No, thank you, we’ll manage.”
	People let them through, thank God, this would actually work out, and the 
pursuers were still far behind. By the time the door to the staircase opened 
again, they were already close to the next one, the one leading outside. 
They started to run again, until a car stopped with screaming brakes and 
Sabretooth roared: ”Get inside!”
	There wasn’t enough time to get inside in a sane manner, they just jumped 
in with bags and all, making it rather crowded and uncomfortable. The 
important thing was to get the hell out of there.
	”Another X-man,” Sabretooth complained, and Raven snapped at him:
	”What do you suggest, that we drop her somewhere?”
	He growled at her, but even if he might have found the suggestion tempting, 
he didn’t act on it.
	Scott listened anxiously for followers, but in a town like this, the sounds 
were soon inseparable from the rest of the traffic, and he chose to trust 
Jean’s mind instead, listening to her anxious feelings. It took a long time 
before she relaxed, but finally, she leaned back.
	”They’re gone now.”
	Sabretooth grunted a little. ”Get that stupid blonde off your face,” he 
told Raven. Ins pite of the serious situation, Scott had to smile. It seemed 
like Dr. Finn wasn’t quite Sabretooth’s type of woman.
	”What are you going to do now?” Jean asked after a while.
	”I don’t know,” Raven said, sounding rather surprised at the question. 
”Why?”
	”Well, they’re not looking for me, and I could change Scott’s looks a 
little, but I don’t see how Sabretooth could hide.”
	”Always worked before,” the big man pointed out.
	He seemed rather calm, now that they were no longer in immediate danger. 
For Scott and Jean, this was the first real trouble with the police. Even 
though the law had never been on their side, they had tried stay within its 
limits. The Brotherhood, on the other hand, had been criminals for years, 
and visibly mutated for even longer. They were used to staying hidden, and 
knew every way of doing so.
	”Should we drop you off somewhere?” Raven asked. ”The airport?”
	”I think... a hairdresser,” Jean said thoughtfully. Scott didn’t like the 
thoughts she broadcasted very much, but he had to admit they made sense.
	”Okay. Victor...”
	”...get down,” Sabretooth filled in. ”Like that alien on TV,” he informed 
the others before he stopped the car and allowed Raven to trade places with 
him.
	”Hey, Cyclops,” he called from his position on the floor. (*That must be 
incredibly uncomfortable*, Scott thought.)
	”Yeah?”
	”Thanks. I know I would have healed if they had started cutting me, but I 
wouldn’t have liked it.”
	He certainly hadn’t expected any courtesy from Sabretooth. ”You’re 
welcome.”

	Although he didn’t actually need to hold on to her arm, he did it anyway. 
After everything that had happened, it was her closeness he needed, more 
than her physical support. The mind link comforted him even more than her 
arm, since it told him exactly what he wanted to know -- there was no one 
looking for them here. He had never thought it could be so lovely just to 
*not* be chased by the police. That would have made him a lot happier if his 
head hadn’t been so uncomfortable. Dying his hair had been a sensible 
precaution, and it wasn’t that he objected to it not being a necessary one, 
but... well, he just didn’t like it.
	Jean snickered a little.
	”What?” he asked, following the stream of feet moving towards the boarding 
gate.
	”Nothing.” She silenced for a while, but soon she snickered again.
	”That bad huh?” Scott asked.
	”Well, no... I just never imagined you as a blonde.”
	He sighed a little. Usually, his hair fell down over his forehead, almost 
reaching his eyes. Now that it had been cut, the breeze felt strange around 
his head. As for the dye, it stung his head a little, and smelled rather 
strange, but that would wear off, he guessed.
	”So, how do I look? Like that guy on Buffy?”
	”I’m afraid not. More like that guy on Ally McBeal.”
	He groaned. ”Great.”
	Her mind told him to cheer up. *At least I don’t think anyone would 
recognize you.*
	*I hope you’re right.*
	They got closer to the boarding gate, handed over their tickets, and 
finally the plane arrived, the one that would take them back home. When they 
sat down in the plane, Scott felt Jean relax, body and soul both. Not until 
then had he realized how tense she was. What kind of low-life was he, 
dragging her into this? It wasn’t a justified cause by any of the X-men 
standards, letting innocent people die just to get one psycho out of 
trouble. If it had been one of those hypothetical quizzes they handed you in 
school, he would have branded his actions as wrong. But this wasn’t 
hypothetical, this was real, and he couldn’t have done it any other way.
	”Can I take your cane, sir?”
	He jumped a bit when the voice addressed him. ”No!” It took a while before 
he remembered to add ”thank you”. Why did they even ask that? In spite of 
all that food serving and cute legs thing, stewardesses were there to help 
out in case of an emergency, right? Well, if the plane went down, he wanted 
the cane with him, not stuck away somewhere. He chided himself for being so 
edgy. Public airplanes had never been his favourites, he used to prefer to 
be his own pilot, something he’d never do again. That certainly added to his 
bad mood, but not enough by itself to make him snap at the woman like that. 
It was this entire mission. Now, when it was over, it was getting to him.
	There had been a dream once, something to believe in. Sure, some of him had 
wanted to believe because it was Xavier’s dream and he’d do anything for 
Xavier. But that wasn’t the whole truth. He had honestly believed in the 
dream, he had struggled not only to know what was right but to do it as 
well. He had never been prepared for a situation when there was no such 
thing as the right choice. When there was no room for love between hatred 
and indifference.
	Jean’s hand caressed his cheek, softly, and he knew he had been 
broadcasting.
	*Sorry,* he sent her, enjoying the possibility to talk to her like this. 
Missing her had been hard, and the hardest part was missing the link.
	*It’s okay.* She leaned over to kiss him, lightly bringing up the lesser 
problem to keep him from thinking of the bigger. *Maybe you should get a 
foldable cane instead.*
	He was grateful for this. Deep brooding was one thing when they were alone, 
at home. He didn’t want to get started on it here. *You were the one who 
said one-piece is better for beginners.*
	*But you’re not a beginner anymore,* she reminded him. *I didn’t realize it 
myself until at the hotel. The moment you entered I could feel all your 
stress and mixed up emotions, but it didn’t show. You were so graceful, 
clearing the path to the left as you were taking a right step, and then the 
other way around.*
	He shrugged. That was the natural way.
	*Don’t you remember how clumsy you were at first?*
	She reminded him teasingly, and he had to laugh, but soon the laughter 
died.
	*I was better off then.*
	She put her arms protectively around him, telling him that was not true. He 
let himself be carried by her touch, to forget about the guilt and the 
desillusion that weighed on him as heavily as fear had done before. Nothing 
was ever quite wrong when Jean was with him. She was the only one who could 
take the weight of the world off his shoulders, like Hercules had done for 
Atlas, but unlike Hercules, she was willing to hold on.
	”Are you falling asleep?” She spoke out loud, but very softly.
	”I think so,” he mumbled. He lifted his head from her shoulder. ”Do you 
mind?”
	”No, I could use some sleep myself.”
	She let her head rest by his, and soon they were both sleeping, 
uncomfortably seated, but comfortably close.

	The nap lasted almost all the way to NYC. Scott was the first one to wake 
up, and he mentally nudged Jean. When she only drowsily turned around in his 
lap he shook her gently. Finally, she gave in and seemed to wake up 
completely in a second, just like a cat.
	Before long, the plane landed, and they got their stuff together. Although 
neither of them said anything even mentally, Scott knew Jean felt just as 
excited to come home as he did. It was a good thing they were seated so 
close to the exit and didn’t have to wait to get out.
	They walked quickly through the hallways leading from the airplane to the 
main building. Scott already heard the sounds of an open area by the time he 
felt Jean stiffen. His first instinct was to run, but the crowd behind them 
was pushing them forward.
	”FBI. Can we have a word with you, sir?”
	The words were spoken aimably and low, but Scott had no reason to felt 
reassured by that. There was no way he could run from the feds, and he 
mentally told Jean not to fight them. He didn’t want her involved in this, 
things were bad enough as it was.
	”Of course.”
	A hand took his arm, and he knew there was no use in telling them he 
preferred it the other way around. They may want it to look like they were 
doing it for support, but that wasn’t the truth. Scott tried not to panic, 
but couldn’t help but wonder what would happen with him. Thank God he was no 
longer in California, they would have fried him instantly there -- unless 
they found too much pleasure in keeping a mutant criminal alive. New York 
State was more moderate, but with the things he had done, there were prison 
walls at the end of the road anyway. He was grateful Jean was just coming 
along without causing any trouble. Whatever happened to him, he wanted her 
out of it.
	They did keep up the almost-friendly act though. Compared to the 
over-pitying attitude strangers used to give him it was practically the cold 
shoulder, but it made him feel more at ease during the car ride to wherever 
they were going.
	He was lead into a building and asked Jean through the mind link what it 
was like, but from her description it was as anonymous to her as it was to 
him.
	”You will have to stay outside, ma’am.”
	Even though he was now separated from Jean, Scott felt relieved that she 
was allowed so close to the room where he was seated. He would be able to 
keep at least some mental connection to her. The chair was hard and 
uncomfortable, and it creaked a little when he sat down.
	”You were travelling as Scott Summers,” the one remaining man said. His 
voice was low and calm, like a psychiatrist on TV, and from the height of 
it, he was even taller than Scott. ”Is that your real name?”
	What was the point in lying? ”Yes.”
	The man sat down opposite him. ”Well, Mr. Summers, earlier today a 
dangerous mutant escaped from a prison in San Francisco, California. Three 
policemen died, a fourth is still in critical condition. His accomplices had 
also kidnapped a Dr. Elizabeth Finn, and one of them had somehow managed to 
take her appearance. The other one fits your description. Obviously, we also 
have witnesses that could confirm for certain that you were there.”
	They would have. ”I’m entitled to a lawyer, aren’t I?”
	The man sighed. ”You’re entitled to one, but we would prefer it if you 
didn’t have one.”
	Scott frowned. He didn’t understand what they were getting at.
	”Mr. Summers, in spite of what you may believe, you are not under arrest.”
	”Then what’s this all about?” He tried to keep calm.
	”We have a proposition for you.” There was a short pause as the man waited 
for an answer. When he didn’t get one, he continued:  ”Dr. Elizabeth Finn 
was part of a research group that last summer tried to find ways of 
eliminating mutant powers. The project was supported by concerned 
authorities, but recently evidence has come forward that indicates that the 
official records were not entirely truthful.” The man paused, moving about 
on his chair. It seemed like Scott wasn’t the only one who was uncomfortably 
seated.
	”Were you one of the subjects to this project?”
	Scott didn’t answer, and the man took a deep breath, rising from his chair 
and walking up to the wall. There must be a window.
	”We want to know what happened during that project, Mr. Summers. So do the 
people who authorized this. If you do have any information on that project, 
we want you to tell us everything you know. Furthermore, once you have done 
that, we don’t want you to ever bring it up again. If the press, or the law, 
or anyone else asks you about this, you have never heard of such a project. 
Am I making myself clear?”
	”Perfectly.”
	If it got out that high authorities, whichever they could be, had supported 
violent experimentation on mutants, it would ruin their credibility. 
Claiming that they hadn’t known the truth wouldn’t help, that would only 
make them look like easily fooled morons. Scott had no problem understanding 
why they wanted to cover things up.
	”Good. In return for that testimony, we have never heard of you, Scott 
Summers. We never had this conversation. The person we’re looking for was 
never caught -- maybe he was killed in the chase. How does that sound?”
	Scott’s expression turned into stone. It was incredibly tempting. All they 
really wanted to do was cover their tracks. They were dead scared of what 
the public would have to say about them. Maybe they feared that if the truth 
got out, it would swing the public opinion in favour of mutants. The only 
problem was, he couldn’t believe he and Rogue were really that important. 
There had to be more to this. More mutants harmed, probably. Raven had 
picked up a few clues from Dr. Dean, but if they made any sense to her, she 
hadn’t told him about it. All he knew was that something awful had been 
going on, and they wanted him to help them cover it up. He shouldn’t accept 
the offer, but could he afford not to?
	”I don’t really have to tell you what the consequences of your actions 
would be if you dealed with this the legal way, do I?”
	Scott shook his head numbly. New York State wasn’t quite as anti-mutant as 
California, so he might have some chance of getting a fair treatment. 
Trouble was, even a fair treatment wouldn’t prevent him from spending the 
rest of his days in jail. That was what made him suspicious about this deal. 
Things had to be pretty bad if they were willing to put him back on the 
streets.
	”What did they do? You won’t make me believe that you’re going through all 
this trouble for my sake. Who else was hurt?”
	A long silence. The man’s voice was kind as he finally replied: ”I’ll tell 
you everything we know, but not until after you have given your testimony.”
	That made sense. The only way they could tell if he was lying was by 
comparing his statements to what they had already found out. Fortunately, he 
had another way, and he gently reached out to Jean, asking her to check if 
they were honest. The answer was swift: they were. His mind screamed at him 
to take the offer, to find out what had happened and then finally rest. But 
that was the coward’s way out. These people, these doctors, were still 
walking the streets. How could he betray their former and future victims 
just to save his own skin?
	”If I tell you what I want to know, what are you going to do with it?”
	The FBI man seemed to ponder that for a few seconds, then he answered: ”The 
New York project didn’t last long. There has been plans to start similar 
projects in other states. Those plans will obviously be abandoned now. I can 
also guarantee that none of the doctors who took part in the original 
project will ever practice medicine again.”
	That was a lot less than perfect, but it was probably the best he could 
get. Maybe he could get more by allowing himself to be a martyr, spreading 
the word around to every reporter who wanted to listen, but he doubted it. 
And those doubts spoke to the coward inside him, the one who was much bigger 
than he wanted to admit.
	”You don’t have much of an option, Mr. Summers.”
	”There was a doctor who helped us,” Scott said, lifting his head up, 
testing the man. ”Dr. Sawyer. Why don’t you get his testimony?”
	The man cleared his throat. ”We have... located Dr. Sawyer, at an 
institution in New Rochelle. However, he had been drugged down for more than 
six months and did not seem to understand our questions.”
	Scott lost his breath. They had turned on their own, just as Raven said. He 
wondered if she had known this.
	”We treat this very seriously.”
	”Well, of course you do,” he whispered, his mouth and voice not quite 
obeying him. ”When they do it to humans, it’s just not acceptable anymore, 
even to you. Is it?” He couldn’t stop the sarcasm from entering his voice.
	A cold passionless voice. ”Will you cooperate?”
	Scott leaned back. He could have been a hero once, but he certainly wasn’t 
anymore. The dream wouldn’t lead him, he was on his own.
	”Yes.”

	The tapping of a pencil to the table was the only sound in the room for 
minutes after Scott had finished his story. Tap. Tap-tap. The rhythm was 
almost musical.
	”Good enough for you?” Scott finally asked bitterly.
	”Yeah.” The tapping stopped, then there was another sound. Skin to skin -- 
the man was rubbing his forehead. ”Godless shit,” he muttered under his 
breath. Scott probably wasn’t supposed hear that, so he pretended he hadn’t.
	”Then will you tell me what else they did?”
	The very deep breath coming from the man told him that whatever was coming 
up wasn’t something he’d appreciate hearing.
	”We don’t have the whole truth, obviously. But from what we have, the 
official records seem to have been less than truthful, to say the least.” He 
started tapping again. ”You were considered a success, for one thing. You 
were their first subject -- well, you and the girl.”
	He had suspected that much. The doctors hadn’t seemed very prepared for 
failure.
	”Dr. Finn left right after the experiments were finished on the third 
subject, a young man with an electric field around him. They managed to 
eliminate the field on the second try. First time around he got electric 
shocks from his own body. It’s not quite clear how much damage that did, but 
the inofficial notes do indicate that he recovered.”
	”That’s all you’ve got?” Scott asked. ”Notes?”
	”That, and people telling of peculiar kidnappings and disappearances. Also, 
some of the equipment left told us something -- well, those of us who 
understand that sort of things.”
	”No witnesses?”
	”They induced amnesia on all their subjects, and the doctors refuse to 
admit anything.” He gave a snorting laugh. ”Guess in a way it’s a good thing 
you released that psycho.”
	Scott didn’t answer. He was still thinking of the previous sentence. If he 
and Rogue hadn’t run away, they would have been drifting around without any 
memories of themselves, just like Logan. Even if the professor had found 
them, they wouldn’t have remembered him. And Jean... he wouldn’t even have 
the memory of her face.
	The man started to speak again. ”Fourth subject was a middle-aged woman 
with chilling breath, literaly. She was married, we found her family. They 
had reported her missing. Doubt that they’ll ever find her. She was alive 
when she left the clinic, after a double lung transplant that was successful 
from their point of view. The notes said she was asthmatic afterwards, so I 
don’t know if she’s still alive.”
	Scott closed his eyes instincively to stop the tears. The man’s voice was 
getting rougher.
	”Fifth was the first death. A junkie, apparently. He had poisonous spikes 
that came out at will. They tried to pull them out one by one. The 
unofficial notes say he died before the experiments were completed, but they 
don’t say why. He seems to have been in a bad condition, so it may not have 
been their fault. Still, Dr. Duke left after that.” He tried to make a joke. 
”This is beginning to sound like ’And Then There Was None’.”
	Scott didn’t smile. A person had died at that place. If the doctors were 
leaving because they actually had some sort of conscience, great, but that 
didn’t help anyone but themselves.
	The man cleared his throat. ”Sixth was a telepath. Her we have actually 
found, at that institution in New Rochelle. They did some sort of lobotomy 
on her. She’s not a vegetable or anything, but she’s most definitely 
half-witted.”
	The closed eyelids didn’t help now, tears came trickling down Scott’s face.
	”How many more?” he whispered, not certain he could listen much longer.
	”Just one more.” There was no coldness in the man’s voice anymore. ”A baby 
born with gills. The project was originally intended for adult, dangerous 
mutants, but they decided to expand.”
	Scott knew what was coming before the man even continued, and he prayed 
that he would be wrong, that it was not so.
	”It died.”
	Scott let out a quiet sob.
	”There seems to have been internal strifes already, and after that, the 
project was closed. The leaders haven’t been on speaking terms since. Of 
course, all that was told in the official records was that the expansion 
idea had been abandoned.”
	Anyone could have figured out the truth, Scott knew that. The authorities 
had just decided not to ask. Don’t ask where the mutants came from, don’t 
ask what happened to them afterwards. You don’t want to know.
	”I hope our agreement still stands.”
	No, he thought, no it doesn’t. He wanted the whole world to know about 
this. But what was the point? A handfull of mutants, only two of whom had 
actually died, and a young doctor. What was that to a world that couldn’t 
even be bothered to care for long about Israel or Balkan?
	”It stands.” He wanted to stand up, leave this room, but he didn’t know if 
he was allowed to. Also, he didn’t quite trust his legs. ”Can I leave?” he 
asked -- no, pleaded. He hadn’t meant it to come out so pathetic.
	”Absolutely.” The man came up to him and grabbed his arm again, and this 
time he knew it was meaningful to argue.
	”I’d prefer it if I could take your arm.”
	”Sure.” Before they came to the door, the man said: ”Mr. Summers.”
	”Yes?”
	”That mutant you released was a killer.”
	”I know.” What was he supposed to say, that he was sorry? He wasn’t. Maybe 
he should be.
	”I’m an Amnesty guy, I’ve been arguing for years that you can’t do any sort 
of things to a person just because they’re bad. So I guess I understand why 
you did it. It’s still stupid, though.”
	It wasn’t much support, but Scott appreciated it never the less. ”Thank 
you.”

Scott shuddered a little when he stepped out of the taxi. Snow was falling 
on his face, and after this time in San Francisco, it was a strange feeling. 
He guessed it had been cold before, when the FBI tok him away, but 
everything had been so chaotic then he hadn’t really noticed. At least it 
hadn’t snowed back then, he was almost certain of that.
	He waited for Jean to get the suitcase out from the trunk. In spite of the 
cold, he was certainly not in any hurry to get inside. How would he ever be 
able to face the others? Before, he used to think he had lost the ability to 
fight with them. He knew now that it wasn’t so. It was even worse. He had 
lost the *right* to fight with them. He didn’t belong in the team anymore, 
and that hurt, because they were the only family he had.
	”Scott!” Rogue’s voice, followed by two pair of feet running in his 
direction. Jean’s warm hand slipped into his. So far she hadn’t reproached 
him once. It surprised him a little, but he was entirely grateful for it. 
How to handle Rogue was another matter. Out of all the people at the 
mansion, she was probably the most likely to understand what he had done. 
That didn’t mean he had the right to mess up her mind when she had only 
recently come to terms with herself.
	”Hey!” Her voice was warm, and she gave him a big hug, careful not to touch 
anything uncovered. ”I’m so glad you’re back.”
	”She’s speaking for both of us.” Another voice from behind Rogue, and Scott 
managed to smile.
	”Hi Bobby. Thanks.” He wrapped his arms around Rogue. ”Okay, don’t squeeze 
all the air out of me.”
	She finally let go, and they all began walking towards the house. ”You’ve  
been gone for so *long*.”
	”I know. I meant to come home earlier.” Conversation was painful, but he 
kept it up for her sake, because he had really missed her. Her overwhelming 
welcoming surprised him. They were close, but this had a touch of 
desperation. The leader inside him told him to find out if something was 
wrong, but he was so tired, he couldn’t bear anything else. It was only 
Jean’s mind embracing his that kept him going as far as to their room.
	He didn’t know if Rogue left because she sensed all this or if it was 
actually true that she had math class. In a way, he was relieved that she 
was gone, and that made him feel guilty.
	”Bobby?” he asked, when the boy had already turned to leave him and Jean 
alone. ”Is Rogue okay?”
	”I think so. She’s just troubled over Logan. Sabretooth escaped from prison 
yesterday, it’s been all over the news. Logan has been wrecking things all 
day.”
	”Oh.” Scott didn’t know what else to say. Although Logan’s memory was still 
jagged pieces, he had found out months ago that he hated Sabretooth with a 
passion. If Logan ever found out Scott was responsible for this, he’d beat 
him into a bleeding pulp.
	Yeah, well. Whatever made him feel better. Whatever made them both feel 
better.
	Jean closed the door behind them and put the suitcase down on the floor. 
”I’m taking a shower. Join me.”
	It wasn’t even a question, it was an order.
	”Jean, I’m not about to...”
	”You’re about to rest. Lord knows when you last did it. If we take a hot 
shower first, it will be easier for you.”
	Her voice was determined, and he slowly took off his jacket, not sure if he 
intended to continue with the rest of his clothes. Counting the hours, he 
realized it was about nine o’clock in the morning here. Definitely no time 
to go to bed. Besides, they had been sleeping on the plane. He should get 
things ready. Unpack, for one thing. Not that he much cared about the things 
in his suitcase the way things were. But even if he let that be, which was 
sloppy  in itself, there were other things to do. He should talk to the 
professor. God, he *really* didn’t want to do that.
	So his hands didn’t stop moving when his jacket and shoes were off. His 
feet proceeded to the bathroom by their own free will. And when the hot 
shower was over, without his permission, his body curled up to Jean’s in 
their bed and had its pleasure. It refused to listen to him anymore. It was 
tired of him. And so he surrendered and gave up his broodings for a few 
hours, traded it in for the softness of Jean beside him.

	He knew the professor was waiting for him.
	The touch in his mind was in no way obtrusive, but the moment he felt it he 
stiffened in Jean’s arms. It didn’t take long to confirm the discreet 
presence, and soon Scott rolled over to his back. Eyes that had previously 
been closed stared into the darkness that formed his world. It wasn’t 
Xavier’s mental presence at a tender moment that disturbed him. It was only 
the mental equivalence of a person waiting outside a bedroom for the noises 
inside to stop. They were, after all, grown up people. The problem was that 
Xavier was waiting for him, waiting for an explanation of some sort, and he 
had none.
	Even if the professor did not know the entire truth, Cerebro must have told 
him enough to stamp Scott as a disappointment, cooperating with the bad lot. 
Which would be the complete and absolute truth. No matter what Xavier would 
say, there was nothing that could make Scott back off from the stand he had 
taken in offering Raven his help. He was certain he would be forgiven if he 
truly regretted what he did, but as things were, he knew he would be 
rejected. He was surprised Jean hadn’t rejected him too.
	A smooth hand circled across his chest. *Why would I reject you?* There was 
laughter in her mental voice, but he could still sense the shields in her 
mind. This was a private conversation, and Xavier was not to disturb.
	He sat up, turning away from her but holding onto her hand. He didn’t want 
that touch to go away. *I don’t belong here anymore. The things Raven said 
makes more sense than anything we teach here. And I hate that.*
	*So the dream isn’t perfect. You have always set such high standards for 
yourself. Don’t you think there are plenty of people around here who agree 
with you? Logan, for one. The professor accepted him here, why wouldn’t he 
accept you?*
	Scott didn’t answer, and Jean insisted: *Nobody is going to reject you. 
Certainly not Xavier.*
	*But he’s going to think less of me. He’s going to think I was wrong. And 
I’m not.* Scott sighed deeply, burying his face in his hands. *God, I wish I 
was. He’s the only father I have, how can he not be right?*
	Jean didn’t answer immediately, and he ripped the connection, shutting his 
thoughts away from her. ”I guess I’ll go see him,” he said, rising from bed.
	”Okay.” Her voice was low, and she didn’t push the issue. Not until he had 
dressed and left the room did another thought try to enter his mind. He 
allowed it, reluctantly.
	*Nobody’s perfect, Scott. You don’t have to be, and neither does he.*
	Perfect? People had died because of his actions in San Francisco. That was 
a long way from perfect.
	He moved through the familiar corridors and stopped outside the professor’s 
office, knocking on the door. At Xavier’s call to do so, he opened it and 
entered.
	”Scott. Welcome back.” Xavier’s voice was as warm as always, but Scott 
could trace the reservation in it.
	”Thank you, sir. I think we ought to talk.”
	”Indeed. Why don’t you sit down, you look like you’re being court 
marshalled.”
	Well, wasn’t he? FBI and their aura of prison had scared him, but he could 
stand up to them. Fear not those who can kill the body but not the soul, 
right? This... he didn’t know why this scared him more, but it did. He sat 
down, reluctantly.
	There was a short silence before Xavier spoke.
	”Jean was worried... that Mystique was in some way forcing you to work with 
her. I got the impression that it wasn’t so.”
	”It wasn’t.” Scott spoke with a calm he didn’t feel. ”I’m still stronger 
than her. She needed my help, I gave it.”
	”You assisted her in releasing Sabretooth from prison?”
	So he *had* gotten that much from Cerebro. Or maybe he just put two and two 
together. ”Yes.”
	The professor sighed deeply. ”Why?”
	”I had to. No man deserves that sort of treatment.”
	”Is this because of what happened to you last summer?”
	Scott’s jaw tightened. He was restricted by his promise to the FBI, and as 
much as he loathed that promise, he was a man of his word. But even if he 
hadn’t been, he still would have been bothered by that question. Xavier 
sounded like some therapist asking a criminal if he had a sad childhood. 
Sure, his beliefs were formed by his experiences -- hell, he began to sound 
like Xavier himself. He had scars that would never heal, even though he 
could learn to live with them the way he was learning to live with his 
blindness. That didn’t mean he had no ability to make moral decisions. This 
was a moral decision. It could not be reasoned away.
	*You’re being rather unfair to me.*
	Scott’s head jerked up at Xavier’s thought in his mind, and he 
demonstratively slammed it shut.
	”I take it you don’t approve,” he said bitterly.
	”Of letting a killer out on the street? Of murdering people?” Xavier still 
hadn’t raised his voice, but he spoke with great reproach.
	”Of taking a stand.” Scott squeezed the armrests in his hands. ”I wish 
those things didn’t have to happen, but they did. You taught me to believe 
in a dream. This is reality I’ve had to deal with.”
	His words surprised himself. During all this, all the regrets, he had never 
for a second thought ill of Xavier. Now rage was boiling inside him.
	”Life can be terribly unfair. You knew that already. But the fact that 
there is evil in this world is no reason to add to it.”
	Scott left his chair, raising his voice almost to a yell.
	”What would you have me do, let it happen? Raven may be a cynical bitch, 
but she is right in one thing. At least their side is doing something! If it 
had been one of theirs, instead of Rogue and me, they would never have let 
those doctors get away with it.” He shook his head slowly, to clear his 
thoughts. ”They wouldn’t have let it happen to anyone else!”
	”Did it?” Xavier’s voice was gentle, almost lower than Scott’s own pulse 
beating in his ears. He laughed silently, almost like a sob.
	”No. Nothing ever happened. I was never in that place, or helped getting 
Sabretooth out, or involved in this whole fucking mess at all. Nothing ever 
happened, everything is fine, we live in the best of all possible worlds. I 
suppose I’m not even fucking blind.” He was crying now, but he didn’t care. 
”Jesus Christ, I’ve sold my soul.”
	A weak buzzing sound, and the professor’s hand rested on his. ”Scott, I...”
	Scott fought the hand away, not giving Xavier time to finish his sentence. 
”Why didn’t we do something?” he yelled. ”We could have found that place 
again, stopped them, why didn’t we? Why didn’t *I*?”
	”You can’t blame yourself for not acting. You were in no condition to enter 
a mission.”
	”We got Sabretooth out.” His voice had gone hoarse from the yelling, and he 
had to lower it. ”Just Raven and me, from a prison a hell of a lot more 
secure than that hospital. And she’s no stronger than I am. If we had put 
the X-men team on the case to begin with, we could have have helped. Why 
didn’t we? Why didn’t the thought ever come up?”
	”Because we were shocked,” Xavier answered simply. ”You and Rogue more than 
anyone, of course, but we all were. It’s no excuse, but it’s an explanation. 
When something like this happens, it’s hard for everyone.”
	”Yeah. Especially the ones who died. I’m the lucky one here, sir, can you 
get it? At least I still have my life. I’ve got Jean, and I remember what 
she looks like even though I can’t see it. They took all that stuff away 
from people.” He choked on his own words. ”This is not a good world. There 
is evil walking around that doesn’t know that it is evil, and the only way 
to beat it is to turn evil yourself. I hate myself now, more than you can 
ever hate me. But at least that hate tells me there’s something still right 
in me.”
	”I could never hate you, Scott.” Xavier’s hands took his, and this time he 
didn’t fight them away. ”I’m just afraid. I don’t want to lose you the way I 
lost Erik.”
	Scott sank back into his chair, pulling his own hand along with Xavier’s 
over his eyes. ”I don’t want that either. But I don’t think I can honestly 
teach the kids tolerance anymore.”
	”Then take some time off,” Xavier said. ”You don’t have to leave the 
mansion or anything. Consider it an early honeymoon.”
	Scott nodded slowly. Honeymoon. Oh, God, the bare thought of a wedding 
party... But on the other side of the wedding there was the marriage. There 
was Jean.

	Scott was in the kitchen making a sandwich when the phone called, and he 
paused, frowning. The signal was Für Elise, the one Jean used for her 
cellphone. She must have left it in the kitchen. That wasn’t so surprising; 
most of the time she used the main phones or, within the mansion, telepathic 
conversation.
	He put down the butter knife and went over to the kitchen table. He let his 
hand sweep over the surface. Jean’s purse was standing by the far end, and 
he opened it, picking up the phone.
	”Scott Summers, hello?”
	”You’re alive,” someone stated in the other end of the line. She was a lot 
less than exstatic, but yet it was obvious that the news pleased her. He 
recognized Raven’s mutant voice.
	”Yes I am. Did you call just to tell me that?” It was actually good hearing 
her voice again. He started to understand Xavier’s attitude to Magneto a bit 
more. A good enemy was worth a whole lot more than a bad friend.
	”Yeah, well, they said on the news that you had been killed when they tried 
to catch you.”
	”Oh.” So the FBI had kept their promise. That shouldn’t really surprise 
him.
	”Guess it must have been someone else. Poor bastard.”
	”I guess so.” He didn’t really want to talk about this. None of the things 
he had done made him proud, but the deal with the feds was the part he hated 
the most. He might have decided to cooperate with them no matter what, but 
in taking the bribe, he had given up his chance of an honorable decision. 
They had made it a question of his fear of prison, more than one of justice.
	”You don’t sound convinced.”
	”I really can’t talk about it.” Footsteps entered the kitchen, but stopped 
before Scott could figure out who they belonged to.
	”X-men stuff then? Or have you sold out on me?” He voice suddenly got very 
suspicious.
	”I would never do that,” he said firmly.
	She laughed. ”You’re a good man where it counts, Cyclops.”
	Coming from Raven, it was a dubious compliment, but he accepted it 
gratefully. Her opinion of him may not matter when she called him a weakling 
or a Galahad knight, but for once, their ethics were actually compatible.
	”Thanks.” A thought struck him. ”Where are you?”
	”You really don’t think I’ll answer that, do you?”
	”Well, Jean and I will be married in six weeks.” It wasn’t a clear 
invitation; he couldn’t afford one with another person in the room.
	”Really? Huh. Might stop by then. Then again, you never know. We’re trying 
to find Morty, it could take a while.”
	”I thought he was dead.”
	”I thought you were dead,” she replied, and he couldn’t help laughing at 
her quick response. ”I’m kind of glad you’re not.”
	”Thank you.”
	”Yeah, whatever. So, bye I guess.”
	When Scott had hung up the phone he turned to the person who was watching 
him from the doorway. ”Who’s there?”
	”It’s me, bub.”
	Scott involuntarily took a step backwards. He hadn’t expected Logan to show 
up. For some fortunate reason the two of them hadn’t bumped into each other 
once since he came home.
	”I’m not going to hurt you.” Logan sounded gruff. He walked over to the 
refrigerator and opened it. ”I was getting a beer. Do you want one?”
	”Sure.” Scott was still on his guard, but he went back to his unfinished 
sandwich and continued buttering it. If Logan said he wouldn’t hurt him, he 
meant it. Lying had never been one of his vices.
	Logan pressed the cold aluminium can into his hand without a word, a 
gesture that in all its roughness was surprisingly considerate. Then he 
opened his own. ”If you let the fish lady come to the wedding I can’t 
promise I won’t slice her though.” His voice was fierce.
	Scott dropped the sandwich and quickly searched for it, getting his hand 
all buttery in the process. At least it hadn’t fallen on the floor. ”How did 
you know... oh.”
	”Enhanced hearing, remember? Convenient thing.”
	”I guess.” Scott finished making his sandwich and went over to the table 
with that and the can of beer, sitting down. ”I was certain you’d try to 
kill me,” he said, only half joking.
	”Hm.” Logan sat down opposite him. ”I probably would have, if I’d gone 
anywhere near you for the first couple of weeks. You just never seemed to be 
around, and when I went looking, something always came up.” He pondered this 
for a moment and then seemed to reach the same conclusion Scott did. ”Who am 
I kidding? The prof must have stopped me.”
	”Well, he’s not stopping you now,” Scott said. He found himself wondering 
what those claws would feel like running through his chest. Would it hurt a 
lot, or would there just be a quick pain followed by emptiness? They said 
your whole life flashed before your eyes when you died, so that would be one 
way for him to see again. He played with those thoughts, but deep down he 
knew that he truly wanted to live.
	”I promised not to,” Logan muttered.
	Scott frowned. ”Promised who? Xavier?”
	”Nah.” Logan didn’t continue, only drank from his beer in deep draughts, 
and after a while Scott gave up trying to find out anything else and 
concentrated on his snack. It was definitely weird, sitting here next to a 
guy who had every reason to punch him through the nearest wall.
	Logan put his can down and choked a belch. ”The kids were... praying, and 
stuff,” he said.
	Scott took in this, although he didn’t quite understand what Logan was 
getting at. When the other man didn’t continue, he asked: ”Praying?”
	”For your recovery and all, wasting a whole lot of candles.” Logan sounded 
awkward. ”I’m not a praying kind, but some of it must have rubbed off, 
because I promised to get off your back in the future.”
	”Oh.” It felt good to know someone had cared about him while he was away. 
Even though the prayers hadn’t helped the way they were meant to, maybe they 
could do some good in a more important recovery. ”Thanks.”
	”Didn’t quite count on you to come back a fugitive. No one did.”
	”I know.”
	Logan finally burst out in anger, although for him, it was a pretty mild 
one. ”What did you do something stupid like that for, Cyke? You and your 
freaked out ideals. Do you know how much harm that fellow can do out there?”
	”Yes. I had to do it.” He didn’t want to go through all that again.
	”Next time I meet him I’ll cut his throat if I can help it. Then what good 
will this mess have done?”
	Scott rose, took his plate to the sink and then grabbed his cane. He had 
spent too much time wrestling moral issues already, he couldn’t take it 
anymore, he wanted something to just be simple and pure, something to still 
be good in this skewed up world. ”Your kind of death could be better than 
their kind of life.”
	Logan’s silence was almost scary. The he asked, in a low voice: ”You mean 
for yourself, too?”
	Scott hadn’t even realized that his words could be interpreted like that, 
and he found himself telling the truth. ”I asked myself that only five 
minutes ago. No, not for me. But I know I’d want out of that place even if 
you’d stab me for it.”

	They left the movie theatre and entered the real world with a certain 
feeling of reluctance. The wedding was less than two weeks away, and they 
had proclaimed this their last revival of single-life dating. It had been a 
very good evening. Scott was still smiling as he stepped out in the cold 
night air, but beneath the smile dark thoughts popped up even though he 
tried to suppress them. He took Jean’s arm and hoped the walk home would 
keep their minds off anything but the loveliness of the evening.
	”Did you like the film?” Jean asked, playing with his hair. It had grown 
out a little now, but still far from enough to please him.
	”It was wonderful,” he said, and he honestly meant it. With Jean’s 
telepathic explanations, movies were still as much fun as they used to be. 
”Nothing like an oldie.”
	”You actually look a lot like Cary Grant,” she said.
	He smiled. ”No I don’t.”
	”Spitting image.”
	Banning his own gloom, he tried an imitation of the actor: ”I’m not a 
Brewster, I’m the son of a sea cook!”
	She turned to face him and leaned on his chest. ”I’m not a taxi driver, I’m 
a coffee pot.”
	He cupped his hand under her chin and kissed her softly, letting his 
fingers run over her head. God, how he loved her! She was the most beautiful 
woman on earth, inside and out. Being loved by her was the greatest pleasure 
in his life, a pleasure he didn’t deserve.
	He slowly released his lips from hers. This wasn’t working. They could stay 
away from the pain for a while, hide in a movie... (Part of lyrics came up 
in his head: *Thinks that it’s groovy to hide in a movie, pretends he’s 
Fellini and Antonioni...*) But the pain would always come back. All he could 
hope was that it would fade, turn into the same kind of dull ache he felt 
for his blindness.
	”Come on,” he told Jean, and started to walk again. ”Let’s go home.”
	She went along without any comments, and he wondered to himself how much of 
his thoughts she had picked up. He had deliberately weakened the link lately 
-- not letting it go completely, he could never do that, but shielding many 
of his thoughts. Jean had objected to it at first, reminding him of the ”for 
better or worse” promise they would soon make, but he had persisted. Just 
because he kept brooding there was no need to drag her into it.
	”I had a good time tonight,” she told him when she crept down beside him in 
bed.
	”Me too,” he said, and he meant it.
	Still... he couldn’t sleep. It didn’t take him long to realize that this 
would be another one of those nights when he listened to Jean’s deep, even 
breaths without getting any comfort from them. Sometimes she even snored a 
little. She had always violently denied it when she was awake, even though 
Scott had assured her he found it rather cute.
	He finally took a deep sigh and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. 
What was the use in trying to sleep when his tossing and turning would only 
wake Jean? He had tried sleeping pills, but they only gave him nightmares 
and so he stopped. At one point she had suggested antidepressives, but she 
didn’t sound much keener on the thought that he did. This wasn’t a medical 
problem.
	He sat down in the big armchair by the window and rested a book in his lap. 
About the only good thing with these sleepless nights was the way they had 
improved his reading. Though tonight he couldn’t even keep his mind on that. 
He had only come through a few pages when his fingers stopped moving and his 
thoughts wandered away.
	Jean moved around in the bed and mumbled something. Then there was the 
click telling him she had lit the bedside lamp, followed by a deep sigh.
	”Not *again*.”
	He was surprised at the irritated tone of her voice, even though he 
realized he shouldn’t be.
	”I’m sorry.”
	She walked up to him and sat down on the window sill. ”I really hate that 
you think you have to deal with all this alone. And don’t say you’re just 
protecting me. If that was true you’d still talk to someone else. One of the 
guys, or a therapist, or a priest even. Have you tried confession?”
	That actually made him smile a little. ”I’m not catholic.”
	”Then you’ll have to settle for me.” Her thoughts pushed his mind. *Let me 
in.*
	*You are in. You’re always in.*
	*All the way.*
	He reluctantly let her through and felt her picking up the tangled 
emotions.
	*All this guilt. What is it about? You always tell everyone you had to do 
it.*
	*Release Sabretooth, yeah. I’m sorry so many bad things followed from that, 
but it was still necessary.*
	*Then what...*
	Knowing she wouldn’t accept anything but the truth, he sent her a thought.
	*The deal?* She seemed confused, and he tried to explain.
	*I’ve always believed in taking responsibility for my actions, and for my 
beliefs. I don’t like hiding away and being forced to silence.* His thoughts 
were very fierce, and his nails dug into the skin of his palms.
	She softly took his hands and opened the grip. *What else could you have 
done? Gone to jail?*
	*And why not? It’s what happens to people who commit crimes.*
	Her thoughts pounded him with their strength. *Don’t for a minute think 
locking you up somewhere would be fair, just because it would be legal. 
You’re entitled to a life, Scott, you hear me?*
	”Yes.” He spoke out loud, because her thoughts were so fierce they actually 
hurt him. She took a deep breath and followed his example.
	”And I’m entitled to one, too. I want a husband by my side, Scott, and I 
won’t settle for anything else. I’m glad we’re having the wedding here at 
the mansion and not in a prison cell. I want my children to have a father 
that can be there for them.”
	He turned his head in her direction, startled. ”Children?”
	”I was planning children. Weren’t you?”
	”Well... yes.” He tried to hide his disappointment, but since the link was 
fully open now, he couldn’t.
	”You thought I was pregnant?” She slid down from the window sill into his 
lap. ”You wanted me to be pregnant?”
	”I... I guess so,” he said in a low voice. ”There ought to be someone in 
this world who can still believe in goodness, not as something unsteady 
showing up now and then, but as something profound. I can’t teach the kids 
that, to them I’m a living proof of evil. But a baby...” He silenced and 
grimaced. ”...would learn about evil anyway. Not to mention that it is a 
pretty selfish reason to want a child.”
	”People usually don’t have children for altruist reasons,” Jean said 
calmly. ”I don’t even think it would be such a great idea if they did.”
	”What kind of father would I make anyway?”
	”The best, Scott. I always want the best.”
	He stroke her cheek, enjoying the softness of her skin. ”You’re too good 
for me.”
	She leaned her head on his chest. ”No. Because you’re what I want, what 
I’ve always wanted.”
	He held on to her, enjoying her body against his. The pain and the guilt 
didn’t go away, but he thought about what she had said. Even though it was 
just love talk, pep talk, one thing had gone through. His life was linked to 
her just like their minds were linked together. He had a responsibility 
towards her. Throwing guilt at himself might satisfy his own need for 
redemption, but it wouldn’t change anything. In a way, he thought wryly, it 
was just an equivalent of Rogue’s old habit of cutting herself. In taking 
the deal, he had accepted that going to prison wasn’t the best way of 
dealing with the situation.
	Then what was? He had to find out, and when he did, he would go with it. 
Just because there were no good choices, that didn’t mean that choices 
didn’t matter. He had let himself be so occupied with the loss of complete 
goodness that he forgot about the incomplete. Unlike Jean, he would have to 
settle for second best.
	Scott drifted away in his chair, with Jean sleeping in his lap, and in his 
dreams he faced his own world, dark and torn as it may be. And he welcomed 
it.
THE END