“You won’t even need stitches. It’s just a scratch. I’ll clean it up and pop a butterfly on it…” Jean is speaking with calm and comforting voice. She dabs my cheek with a damp wad of cotton. It stings a bit, but I don’t think that’s the reason behind my tears. I have a vague feeling that I was crying even before we got in here.
“There. Better?” I crinkle my face. Band-aid feels tight and sticky on my cheek.
“You want to talk about it?” Jean asks. I’m not sure if I can. I wouldn’t even know where to begin. How to explain what I have done? I feel so tired and dirty.
“Rogue?” For a second I’m about to ask her to call me Marie. Logan’s the only one in here who knows my real name, and I have a feeling that Jean could easily become the second. But no. That’s something that belongs to Logan and me only. Maybe the only thing after this.
“Could you… You know, take a look?” I mimic her stance when she reads mind, hands on both sides of her head. Jean smiles softly.
“I would rather hear it from yourself. Mind reading is so personal. I’m not very skilled at it, and many times I see much more than the other person feels comfortable to share with me.” Yes. I could very easily tell her my name.
“Please. I don’t know how to… What to say. It’s so dirty…” I’m practically pleading Jean to take a peek. Wasn’t it just this morning when I faked a headache to dodge Professor’s possible attempt to read my mind in the middle of physics class? It sure has been a long day.
“Are you absolutely sure about this?” Jean asks, taking my hands between her gloved palms. I can only nod. There’s a lump size of a fucking mountain in my throat. Speaking would be impossible.
“Okay. I need you to relax. Concentrate to the matter that’s bothering you…” Jean lets go my hands and raises her palms to my temples. Closes her eyes.
I try not to flinch when I push images of Logan to the front in my mind. With my feelings it’s harder. Jean was right. It’s too personal. But I’m not backing out. Not now. Somebody has to know. I will go nuts if I try to deal with this alone.
Jean opens her eyes and stares at me mutely.
“I see…” For a moment I’m afraid. Afraid that she’s going to tell me that the voice inside my head is indeed right. That I really am a dirty slut. Then she smiles and smoothes back a strand of hair that’s fallen to my forehead. Just a small smile, but it tells me everything is okay.
“This has been an eventful day for you. And long. You’ll probably feel better in the morning, after you have slept. Go back to bed. I’ll speak to him.” Where the fuck is my mom when I need one? This woman in front of me, still a stranger on some level, is more of a mother to me right now than my real mom ever was.
“Is… Is it okay if I hug you?” I ask. Because right now I would really like to. Jean smiles again and spreads her arms.
“Of course. Of course it’s okay. You don’t have to ask…” She holds me and keeps rocking back and forth while I cry against her shoulder. I would much rather have Logan in her place, my Logan. But my Logan is gone. I’ll take whatever I can.
When I’m finally able to untangle from her arms and wipe my face almost half an hour has passed. There’s a giant wet blotch on the shoulder of Jean’s lab coat, and she looks utterly tired.
“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to be so clingy. It’s just…”
“Don’t worry. Now, let’s get you back to bed.”
I can hear Logan moving around in the kitchen when I run towards the stairs. One serious conversation per night is my quota. I don’t think I can muster enough strength to deal with him yet. He’ll have to wait until morning. Logan’s trying to come after me, but I can hear Jean stopping him. God bless that woman. I can only hope she isn’t too hard on Logan. I’m quite sure there are bits and pieces in my memories that would give her a good reason to have him arrested. I don’t want him to get hurt because of me. He hasn’t done a thing to deserve that.
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