Ororo climbed out of the cockpit and knelt beside Jean. She gestured at Bobby's prone, too-still body with helpless hands. "What do you need?" "Another IV bag would be nice," Logan replied for Jean, hands sturdy as he held the ragged edges of Bobby's skin apart so Jean could clamp down on the artery. "We are good, right?" he asked her, in a much softer voice, when Ororo stood to grab the spare medical bag. "Not if I can't get the bleeding to stop," she said, willing her voice to remain calm, collected. It wouldn't do any of them any good if she gave in to her emotions. Her gloves were drenched with blood – too much of it – but her fingers were steady as she finally got the clamp secured. Hang in there, Bobby. Please. Ororo returned with the new IV bag, and Jean busied herself with replacing it and checking the rest of Bobby's vitals. Pulse thready, breathing shallow, skin cool and clammy...goddammit. She cursed her limited resources, even as the plane touched down on the landing pad and Scott shut off the engines. The second Scott climbed out of the pilot's seat, she fixed him with a determined look. "I need to get him to the med-lab now or he's not going to make it." "We're on it," Scott replied, and instructed Logan and Ororo to wheel the stretcher to the med-lab while Jean made the mad dash ahead of them to get everything set up and prepped. Deep breaths, she reminded herself. She was a doctor, she had the best equipment in the world at her disposal, and Scott would take care of getting her anything else she needed. She just had to trust that it would be enough. Scott hovered behind in the lab after they'd gotten Bobby situated and the others had left to update the Professor on everything that had happened. Jean could admit, only to herself, that she was grateful for Scott's quiet presence, even though she knew what it cost him to stay. If there was one thing Scott hated above all else, it was the idea that he couldn't fix the problem when one of his team was suffering. "Do you need anything?" He touched a hand to her shoulder in encouragement, and she leaned into him, allowing herself the momentary luxury of weakness before offering a small, weak smile. "I've got everything I need. I'll be fine." It was a blatant lie, and they both knew it. "I'll do all I can for him," she reminded him. Reminded them both. "I never doubted you," he replied quietly. "I'll be right outside if you need me." "Thanks," she said, then called when he was at the door: "It'll be alright, Scott. He'll come through this." Another lie, but she knew that Bobby was young and strong-willed. He'd fight, and she'd do all she could to help him. Scott nodded to show he understood, but the troubled slump to his shoulders didn't lift. He took on way too much responsibility for the team – he always had – and she knew he blamed himself as much as Mystique for Bobby's condition. The door slid quietly shut behind him, and she could see him standing sentry on the other side of the window. He nodded to her once again, and she nodded back before she bent her head back to Bobby, concentrating once more on trying to repair all of the damage Mystique had done. There might be a war going on, but Jean would be damned if Bobby would be the first casualty. *** Scott was nowhere to be found by the time Jean stepped out of the lab, hand at the small of her back as she stretched, feeling the twinge in sore muscles. Instead, Logan was standing there, arms crossed, staring through the window at Bobby like he could will Bobby back to health by sheer force. He'd already changed out of his uniform and into his customary jeans, thin tank top and leather jacket. For once, though, she didn't feel the familiar tug in her belly at the sight of him. She was far too tired to analyze why, but she hoped it meant she was finally free of the unwanted attraction. "How's Bobby doing?" Logan asked, giving her a slow, assessing look that made her feel like she was dressed a lot more provocatively than in just her uniform and a lab coat. "Better. He's stabilized for now." She looked around. "Where's Scott?" "The Professor wanted a word with him. I told him I'd take watch until he got back." He rapped on the glass with his knuckles. "You did some good work in there." "Thanks, but it was mostly luck." Although, she'd take luck over skill any day if it meant saving lives, especially one of a friend. "Why do you always do that?" Jean tilted her head in confusion. "Do what?" His gaze was cool, direct. "Put down your skills. You've got too much talent to belittle it like you do." Of course he would have noticed. Logan, for all of his faults, knew how to read people. "I try not to," she replied. "But it's a hard habit to break." He offered her a rueful smile. "If you were my girl, I'd remind you of your worth a thousand times a day." "What makes you think Scott doesn't?" she countered, with a quirk of her eyebrow. "Give me a freakin' break," Logan scoffed. "Scott's so uptight he wouldn't know how to relate to someone else." She suppressed the sigh. She'd known in the back of her mind that they'd have to have this conversation at some point, but Logan's timing couldn't have been worse. "There's a lot more to Scott than you think." "Meaning?" The question was filled with belligerence. "Meaning he's got a lot of responsibilities resting on his shoulders. He doesn't get the luxury of disappearing when he feels like it for weeks or months at a time." She knew she scored a point when he just scowled. "Doesn't make him less of a dick." She simply smiled. He'd never understand, but he didn't need to. Her relationship with Scott didn't have to make sense to anyone else. Things had never been perfect between them – he was too controlling, she was too stubborn – but they'd weathered more than one storm, battered and bruised, but still strong. "Your relationship with him is for the two of you to work out," she said. "Now, if you'll excuse me..." She moved to go past him, and he stopped her with a hand to her elbow. "Just tell me what you see in him." "You wouldn't understand," she started, and his chin jutted in pure hostility. "Try me." "I don't need to," she snapped, even as she inwardly berated herself for letting him get to her. "I don't have to prove anything to you." "I know you don't." He softened his voice, gaze now conciliatory instead of challenging. "But try me, anyway." She knew she didn't owe Logan anything, but if it would help, she owed it to the team at least... "I'm with him because I love him," she said, wishing she had the Professor's eloquence with words. "For everything he is and everything he could be. I like myself when I'm around him. He makes me want to be a better person." "That's what you are for me," he told her, quietly. "I could make you happy." "I'm sure you could for awhile. But it wouldn't be enough." She offered another small smile to take the sting from her words, then stepped back. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I really should find Scott and let him know how Bobby is." "Yeah, yeah, okay," he nodded, still looking troubled, and stepped aside. "I'll be here when you get back." She didn't offer a farewell as she left the room. *** Scott met her at the elevator and was by her side almost instantly the second he saw her. "Hey, I was just heading back down." "I know, Logan told me the Professor needed you." She brushed a lock of hair from his face, drinking in the familiar and beloved features. He looked like he'd grabbed a shower – the hairs at the base of his neck were still damp, and he smelled like their shower gel. He was wearing one of the sweaters she'd given him this past Christmas, and his favorite pair of jeans. He took her hands in his, the warmth of them a welcome balm. "How is he?" "Good. Well, as good as he's going to be for awhile," she amended, then stepped closer so she could wrap her arms around him. He pulled her close, one arm around her waist, the other hand in her hair. For the first time in too many hours to count, she allowed herself to relax. "It'll be alright," he murmured in her ear, echoing her earlier words. "You've been amazing." "Thanks," she whispered, choking back unshed tears. It was just the adrenaline of the last few hours wearing off, she told herself. "You should get some rest. Logan and I can watch over him for awhile." He kissed her forehead, then her lips, turning the caress into comfort. "C'mon, you look like you're about ready to fall asleep standing up." "You don't always have to take care of me, you know," she told him, even as she allowed him to lead her down the hallway to their bedroom. "I know, I just like doing it," he told her. "You take care of me every bit as much." "Someone's got to." She stopped outside the door, one hand on the knob as she cupped his unshaven cheek with the other, thumb brushing over the bristles. No, he wasn't perfect. But he was still hers. "I love you. Call me if there's any change, alright?" "I promise," he said, and kissed her again. "I love you, too. Now get some rest." She nodded and watched as he turned around and headed back to the elevator before slipping inside their room. Some sleep would be nice. She still had a long night ahead of her, but she knew she could take a couple of hours and trust that Scott would take care of things.
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