Broken Dishes and Mending Hearts

Posted on Fri Apr 5th, 2024 @ 4:15pm by Jean Grey & Scott Summers
Edited on on Fri Apr 5th, 2024 @ 4:16pm

Mission: Episode 0: X Lang Syne
Location: Mansion - Kitchen
Timeline: January 15, 1982

Jean had been at Xavier’s for several months now and she had finally acclimated enough to the school to start contributing more. Tonight, Jean was assigned to after dinner kitchen duty and based on the response that generated, it was an undesirable task. Walking into the kitchen, Jean immediately understood why the chore was so terrible. The sink was overflowing with dirty dishes, cups, and utensils, not to mention the pots and pans from tonight’s dinner. She just stared at it in dumbfounded silence. Scott entered the kitchen soon after and he saw a wide eyed Jean gazing at the dishes. The two hadn’t spoken much since she arrived, Jean's presence was intermittent at best. She seemed to have good days and bad days. On the bad days she cried a lot. Today appeared to be a good day, that is until she saw the kitchen she had been assigned to clean.

“Is it always this bad?” Jean looked like a deer in the headlights as her attention turned towards Scott.

“No, not really,” Scott said. It had gotten worse with more people living at the mansion, but he didn’t want to complain about that. Life at the orphanage was hard because everyone was miserable. Sadness was taken for granted here, but there was something about Xavier’s School For Gifted Youngsters that carried hope in the air like incense. There was nearly something disloyal about complaining now. He didn’t want to break the spell that hung over this place.

“But I’ll help out…” he said a little apprehensively. Jean was always nice enough, but sometimes she seemed so troubled. It never hurt to walk on eggshells. “... if you’d like.”

“Would you?” Jean weakly smiled from the offer. “Thanks, Scott, I’d appreciate that.”

It would have been so much easier with her telekinesis, the plates and cups would have washed themselves in a matter of minutes. But Jean had been banned from using her telekinesis, at least when it came to the mundane. She had picked up the use of the mental ability rather quickly and had taken to abusing it. Until she had learned the proper balance, The Professor had limited her use of it around the house. She took the scrunchie from her wrist and tied up her thick red hair into a ponytail as she took a few steps towards the sink.

“I’ll wash, if you dry?” Jean proposed while looking over her shoulder at Scott.

“Deal.” Scott’s taciturn face broke into a smile in return. Seeing her smile was always a welcome sight. Rare as it was some days… “So, did you do anything interesting today?”

“Not really.” Jean admitted as she began to clear the sink of its stacked dishes. “I’m behind in my school work, so I’m trying to get caught up.”

Scott wasn’t sure what to say but the silence seemed uncomfortable. Drying was a simple enough task that he needed more to fill the moment than monotony. “I heard we might be getting another student.”

Truth be told, Scott wasn’t quite sure what might catch Jean’s interest. He’d throw out whatever he could think of, one topic at a time if need be, until he caught a nibble. There was bound to be something.

“Oh really?” Jean feigned interest in the topic, meeting new people took skill and restraint for the young telepath. Things she was still working on with the Professor, at least with the current students they were tolerant and patient with her. “Might be nice to meet someone new, maybe a new friend.”

Jean began to set up their stations for washing and drying, he noticed she was organized and meticulous.

“How long have you been here?” She attempted to contribute to their polite conversation. “You were here by yourself for a little bit, right?”

“Not quite a year.” Scott nodded at her question. “You were next. I think Bobby technically moved in before you, but I met you first.” It was both a technical correction and a weird flex at the same time. “Bobby can be annoying. You’re funner to talk to.”

Scott looked over his shoulder for eavesdroppers. There wasn’t anything wrong with Bobby exactly. He was a livewire with high highs and low lows, but with everyone being so damn glum all the time, that wasn’t bad. It was just… too much sometimes.

“So how do you like it so far?” Scott asked, pushing past his awkward compliment. “Think you’ll stay?”

“I’m funner?” Jean laughed a little at his statement, partially from his choice in words and partially from the fact that he thought she was fun. “I don’t really feel like I’m fun, at least not right now. But thank you.”

She considered his questions as she plugged half the sink and began to fill it with hot, soapy water. She knew Scott had come from an orphanage and he didn’t really have anywhere else to go.

“I miss my mom and dad sometimes.” Jean frowned a little as she started to place plates in the hot water to soak. “But I am getting help here… so… yeah… I think I will stay.”

Outside of the Professor, Scott was the only person who asked about her and checked in with her. Their conversations were usually brief and polite but he always made the effort to talk to her.

“Besides, some of the people around here are really nice.” They often avoided each other’s gaze but Jean dared to find his eyes as she smiled at him.

That second smile hooked Scott by the warm cockles of his heart. It wasn’t the smile of gratitude for helping out or a polite greeting. In that smile, Scott saw the light of Heaven, like an angel smiling down on little, old him.

His breath caught in his throat. Thinking quickly, he faked a hiccup. “Excuse me,” he said, deflecting. “Weird.”

The first of the dishes made their way into the rinse sink. Scott fished out a plate and wiped it dry with a towel. “Yeah, this place grows on you. The Professor thinks one day we might be able to learn to help people… instead of…” He paused his drying for a moment as he recalled the destruction he’d brought to a train station. If not for Professor Xavier’s intervention, there was no telling what might’ve happened with the scared mob of bystanders. “... you know.”

“Hurting people?” Jean suggested, knowing it was exactly what he was thinking about. She tried not to listen in on his thoughts but she knew whatever bothered him involved a train.

Scott nodded without another word.

“Did you hurt people?” Jean asked with such innocence that it felt like the truth might hurt her. There was a poignant pause in both their conversation and their work where only the sound of the running water filled the kitchen. “By accident I mean, I know if you did, but I’m sure it was completely by accident.”

“Not exactly,” Scott said. “Not directly. When my power first started coming out, it would start destroying random things. Doors, walls, furniture. But it started getting stronger and stronger. I got adopted a time or two, but they always sent me back. It was on my way back to the orphanage that a full blast came out. The roof of the train station was there one minute and gone the next. Bricks and dirt rained down onto everybody. At least most of the big pieces were pulverized…”

Up to that point, Scott had been a little monotone in his narrative, but then his pitch piqued with anxiety. “Not many people knew it was me, but the few who did tried to get me. A small mob formed. If Professor Xavier…” He paused to catch the sob in his chest before it reached his throat. By an incredible force of will, he swallowed it back down. “... if Professor Xavier hadn’t found me,” he said again, his voice its normal pitch, “well, I don’t know what would’ve happened. He saved my life.”

“Oh…” Jean squeaked the word as her hands forgot about why they were washing. She didn’t know that Scott had been adopted and then sent back on more than one occasion. She couldn’t imagine how disappointing that would be, it almost made her want to cry. “I didn’t know it was that bad.” Jean suddenly couldn’t look at him or even in his general direction, she felt bad for him and for pressing the topic. She wasn’t sure if she should apologize or not and that uncertainty made her stomach twist with nerves.

“My friend was hit by a car in front of me.” Jean blurted out the words as if they would make up for the terrible thing he shared. “My telepathy started then…” Scott watched her struggle with that same type of sob that threatened to rise out of him, but she too swallowed the emotion. “I was with her when she died.”

“Oh shit!” Scott covered his mouth after cursing. “Sorry. I just… that had to suck.” Understatement of the year, but Scott was reeling. He lowered his hand to his chin enough not to mumble. “Did you… at the end?”

He watched her tense a little as he asked, her narrow shoulders raising a bit in response to the question.

Duh! That’s what she just said. Scott just had no way to process it. And it was then that he realized neither did Jean. “You did.” He’d answered his own question. “That’s why you didn’t talk.” He fought to keep his composure, which only led to his bottom lip pouting out further than his oversized ruby red glasses that his growth spurt had done little to acclimate to his face. “I’m sorry, Jean. I… I wish I knew what to say.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “But I can at least listen. You know, if you ever want to talk about it. Or anything.”

“Thanks, you don’t have to say anything. I’m also trying to get better with talking about it, it’s what the Professor and I are working on. It’s just still really hard for me.” Which explained why she cried so much.

“But maybe someday I can talk to you about it.” A touch of optimism in that statement, a tiny request for them to continue to talk to one another. Jean suddenly became acutely aware of his hand on her shoulder and how warm his touch was.

“Rad,” Scott said. “I mean, I’m glad. Until then…” He flicked some rinse water at her. It wasn’t a lot, just enough to speckle her arm. “Whoops!” Scott couldn’t hold back a guilty smirk. “My bad.”

She looked over her shoulder at him, a look of surprise on her face that was soon replaced by a mischievous grin. While Scott had merely sprinkled water across her arms, Jean retaliated with much more. The stream of water running from the faucet momentarily changed direction from its downward flow to drenched the front of his shirt and every dish he had dried already.

“I’m so sorry.” Jean faked disbelief. “That just happened.”

Scott was shocked on the inside. But externally he just nodded. “No harm, no foul,” he said, toweling everything dry again.
Now that the towel was damp, though, Scott snapped it at Jean’s backside. “Oh jeez, clumsy me.”

Her jaw dropped in shock over what he had done as she placed both of her hands protectively over her rear end.

“You can’t do that!” Jean said with a gasp of surprise, Scott would have thought he crossed the line had it not been for the look of playful vengeance that came over her face. Jean picked up the soap filled sponge and threw it at his head. Scott dodged it with ease, causing it to smack into the cabinet behind him, leaving a sudsy splatter across the wood and a puddle on the floor.

“Stop making a mess.” She scolded him with a smile on her face.

“You first!” Scott retorted, fully giving in to his smirk. The towel coiled in his hands again for another snap if Jean made another move. “Be careful. This thing has a mind of its own.”

He sidestepped a few paces for better positioning. With the sink behind Jean, she was less likely to weaponize it against him. “I’m trying to help you, you know.” His voice lilted with a teasing tone.

“Help!?” Jean laughed at the absurdity of the word. It was the first time he had ever heard her do more than chuckle at a humorous quip, her laugh was bright and mercurial like the notes of a songbird.

“I think we have different definitions of the word.” Jean slowly circled and moved with Scott keeping her back half away from him and his dish towel. With a sweep of her arm and a step to the side she created a wave of water from the stopped side of the sink that lazily crashed into Scott’s leg.

“Now I’m going to have to mop!” She attempted to frown but failed and continued to smirk at him.

“I'll help you mop,” Scott offered. “I'll just head over to the closet and get it. You can go back to washing.” There was nothing mischievous about his demeanor. He even hid the towel behind his back for good measure. “Deal?”

“Deal.” Jean agreed while returning to a normal stance. “Now put the towel down.”

“What towel?” Scott inched toward the broom closet with his hands still behind his back. A look of confusion even passed over his face.

Her eyes narrowed both out of contempt and concentration as Jean watched Scott scoot towards the broom closet. He felt a strong tug on the dish towel behind his back. It wasn’t hard enough to remove the towel from his grip but the tug changed his center of balance enough to cause to take an awkward step backwards to compensate for it.

“That towel.” Jean declared while continuing to pull on it.

“How did that get there?” Scott chuckled mischievously and wrestled with phantom hands for control. Eventually he thought he had the towel free, at which point he tried to wad it up and throw it at Jean's face. “Ha!” The triumphant cry might have been premature.

Jean lifted her hand and the towel stopped mid-air but only a few inches from her face. She leaned to the side to look around it and at him.

“At my face?” More shock from his behavior “Scott Summers, you fight dirty!” She said his full name with such exaggerated impudence that it was humorous. Jean took a moment to look at him, from shoulder to knee he was soaking wet and his clothes that were now plastered to his body. That observation made her blush a little and the towel she held in mid-air dropped to the floor with a wet thud. To avoid any additional embarrassment, Jean quickly turned on her heels and went back to washing dishes.

“What's that saying?” Scott mused aloud. “All is fair in true love and war?” The obvious double meaning to that eluded Scott until his words sounded off in his own ears. His cheeks flushed nearly as red as his glasses.

“You technically broke the Professor's rule on no telekinesis,” he quickly pointed out as a cover. So far, it was working. His bashful smile shifted more into a smirk. “Why, I'll bet if I turned around, the dishes might just start drying themselves.”

The dishes were in fact marching along in orderly rows for washing and drying, making the chore much easier to accomplish. But they all stopped when he commented on her telekinesis, creating a dramatic but harmless clatter as they landed.

She tensed from his words and stood up a little bit straighter in response to them. Jean was surprised that he knew the restrictions that had been placed on her. “You aren’t going to tell on me, are you?”

“No…” Scott said, suddenly feeling a little cornered by her tense demeanor. “Why would I do that? You're my friend.” He had removed the mop and bucket from the broom closet already. “We both have a mess to clean up anyway.”

Jean could feel him bristle in defense before his own walls went back up. She hated feeling any type of negative emotion, especially when they had been getting along so well together just a few minutes before. It made her want to retreat, to run away from him and any other possible interaction where they would make each feel bad. But that running was what had left Jean isolated in that terrible numb place. So for her own benefit she remained. Using an exercise in self-control that the Professor had taught her. Jean closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths before making the effort to push out any of Scott’s emotions. His thoughts and emotions shrunk down to a manageable pinhole in her mind, making them much more bearable.

“I don’t know…” Jean finally managed to answer him. “Because I’m breaking the rules and I shouldn’t be? Because that rule was set up for a reason and I’m failing to learn and understand why?”

Scott shrugged. That was a silly reason to tattle. Seemed like she was learning just fine right now.

She continued to wash and dry each dish on her own, without the use of her telekinesis, all while still feeling bad that she assumed the worst from him.
“I’m glad I’m your friend.”

“You think too much,” Scott said while he wrestled the mop across the wet tiles. “It’s okay. So do I.” He set to work, mopping and wringing and repeating. “Thank you for being my friend. I’ve never really had one before.”

“You’ve never had a friend before?!” Jean stopped her washing and turned to face him. Her green eyes fixed on him with such worry and remorse. The story about his failed adoption and then his lack of friends, it was all so heartbreakingly sad and Jean couldn’t bear it. Without hesitation she moved towards Scott and wrapped her arms around him.

Acting on instinct rather than etiquette, Jean buried her face in his chest as she squeezed him tightly in the best hug she could manage.

Scott flinched at the hug, his entire body locking up from head to toe. The squeeze, though, seeped into his taut, adolescent muscles, enticing him to relax. Hugs were even more rare than friends.

“I mean I’ve had one or two, I guess,” Scott said, “but nobody stuck around at the orphanage for long. It was just… different there.” He let the mop handle slide against the wall and slowly snaked his arms around Jean to return the hug. It felt nice. Warm. Happy. Home. Feelings that were so unfamiliar yet so welcome.

“It’s okay, though,” Scott offered, trying to keep from bumming Jean out. She didn’t always come out of the dark well once she’s fallen into it. “We’re all friends now, right? And whatever the Professor is planning, I bet it means we’ll be friends for a long time.”

“Of course we’ll stay friends!” Jean snapped out of the moment of affection and realized how awkward her sudden outburst had been. Aside from their initial conversation this was the longest she had ever spoken to him, and now she was hugging him? If he hadn’t considered her mentally unstable before, he would now.

He saw that realization play out across her face as a moment of sweet compassion turned into horrific embarrassment. Jean dropped her arms to her sides and stood up straight, her face turned a shade of red that almost matched her hair.

“I should finish the dishes or we’ll be here all night.” She looked like was going to be sick over her mortifying choice to hug Scott, so Jean found an excuse to stop looking at him.

“Right…” Was it something he said? Did he smell? Girls always said boys smell. Scott resisted the urge to take a whiff of himself. “Where, uh, where were we?”

The water on the floor had been cleaned up, but Scott left the mop and bucket against the wall. Jean was being mercurial enough that they may be needed again. If nothing else, though, he made it clear he was still willing to help.

“Just washing and drying until the end of time.” Jean replied with just a touch of overly dramatic teenage sarcasm. But to be fair they had already made a dent in the stack of dishes. It was the pots and pans that would be the hard part.

“And you don’t smell bad.” Jean dared to answer a question that he didn’t ask out loud.

Scott blushed at that. “Thanks… I think.” Having the Professor read his thoughts in an academic or therapeutic sense was one thing, but for a cute girl to know that he was worried about his body odor during a sudden but welcomed hug was a little disarming. It made him chuckle. “You smell nice, too,” he added.

Whether or not it was a weird compliment was a question he would ponder later in private. Scott just focused on helping out. Some of the dried dishes were ready to be put away, so he started there. After several trips back and forth, though, Scott let out a sigh.

“You know, I get it now,” he said with teenage frustration at tedious tasks. “Telekinesis definitely comes in handy.”

“Totally.” Jean agreed with a smile. “It saves so much time, now that I know the layout of the school I don’t even have to watch stuff to move it around.” She said that with a touch of pride before her ego deflated. “Which is also what got me in trouble, I had forgotten my trigonometry book in my room and rather than go back and get it, I used my telekinesis. The only problem with me not watching it is, well, I’m not watching it. My speeding book came flying down the hallway and crashed right into the back of the Professor’s head. He wasn’t happy with me.”

Scott started snickering at first. He tried and failed to keep it short lived but that made him snort. That added fuel to the fire and led to an explosive guffaw that dragged an irrepressible trail of giggles in its wake.

“He must have been so mad!” Scott's adolescent voice squeaked but he was laughing too hard to care. He was holding his stomach to keep his sides from splitting. “No wonder he sent you in here all by yourself!”

“You know that vein that shows up in his forehead when he’s mad?” Jean began to laugh along with him, that guilty pleasure sort of humor that was forbidden yet so infectious. “It was on full display, despite his calm demeanor I could tell he was furious from practically being cold cocked by a math book.”

She let out a satisfied sigh, the kind that follows a good fit of laughter. “So yeah, that’s why I’m not allowed to use my telekinesis for simple tasks. At least until I learn my lesson.”

Scott just shrugged. “Sounds more like punishment to me. Not sure what lesson you're supposed to learn doing this.”

But then he thought for a minute. “Wait, you're taking trigonometry too? Bobby is still in geometry, so he called me a nerd when he saw my trig book.” That realization made a different sort of smile overtake Scott's face – one of solidarity and, if he would admit it, a touch of admiration.

“Yeah, I’m in Trig too.” Jean said with a shy smile while she scrubbed a stubborn plate. She would never consider herself a prodigy by any means but she was bright.

“I’m a few chapters behind but I’m trying to get caught up.” She became a little somber as she admitted that issue. “My school work has suffered a little bit since my powers started and there was concern about my potential to cheat. The Professor doesn’t want to, nor should he, proctor every test I take but sometimes stuff slips through on its own… right and wrong answers. So my ability to concentrate has to be improved before I take tests with other students around.” While telepathy could provide so much insight it was a double edged sword that no one would ever believe your thoughts were your own.

“That advantage only works if other students are smarter than you,” Scott said. “Something tells me that wouldn't be the case.” He was just speaking his mind and pointing out an obvious flaw in that logic. But then he realized it sounded like a compliment, so he tried to downplay it. “At least, not very often.”

“You say that but it’s hard to find the correct answer when all you can hear is someone muttering the wrong answer to you while you work.” Jean began to fish for utensils in the sink full of water, the look on her face showed she was less than thrilled about it. “Honestly it’s easier here, there are far less people than at a public school so it’s not as difficult to keep everyone out of my head.”

Scott arched his brow at that and conceded with a nod.

“Did you go to public school before here? Is that how that worked?” An honest but mildly insensitive question about Scott’s time in the orphanage.

“Technically,” Scott said, “but the orphanage always had me out for doctor's appointments and evaluations and special testing for whatever reason. Feels like I've spent more time with tutors than with classrooms.”

As much as Scott was enjoying this time with Jean, the frown on her face was just too much. He longed to make it better.

“Hold on…” Scott trotted to the hallway and peeked out both ways. “Coast is clear.” When he spun around to face Jean again, he had a mischievous grin beneath his oversized glasses.

“Jean…” His tone was bashful but his smirk was resolute. “If you use your powers, you could get done faster and we'd still have enough time before curfew to do something fun.” His smirk curled back into a grin. “I won't tell. I promise.”

She liked it when he said her name like that, it was this mixture of focus and playfulness. It made her feel like he had eyes for her and her alone. Jean couldn’t help but smile from his tone and his proposition.

“Okay.” She agreed and couldn’t help but feel a small thrill at the idea of doing something with Scott. Jean liked spending time with him and it appeared he felt the same way.

Jean took a step back from the sink, drying her hands on her jeans as she began to evaluate the dishes that were left. With a slightly furrowed brow she went to work, using her telekinesis the dishes began to wash and scrub themselves before being rinsed and dried. It only took a few marvelous minutes to complete the work that would have taken the rest of the night.

Stacking and organizing the mansion’s dishes Jean began to walk them out of the kitchen and to the hutch where they were housed. The volume and fragility of the dishes was enough that she had to pay attention in order to make sure she didn’t drop or chip any of them.

“Be my lookout?” Jean muttered before her focus returned to escorting the dishes.

“You got it,” Scott quipped. As he turned on his heels, though, he said something else. The whisper made his register drop from his pubescent voice to that of a young man. In a rich, raspy baritone, he said near her ear, “I’ll always keep an eye out for you.” It was an innocent promise, free of any conscious innuendo. Matters of the heart were a different story, though, so he could not control whatever subtext his feelings would layer onto the words. He took a few steps back toward the door to the hallway.

Jean’s whole body tensed and relaxed at the same time as an almost electric thrill passed through her. She wasn’t sure what had caused the sensation; if it was his choice in words, the tone of his voice, the close proximity of his lips to her ear, or the touch of affection that his psyche provided but there was something about Scott’s presence that created a flutter of emotion inside of her. Regardless if it was just one part of his response or if it was all of it together, the effect was still the same. Jean lost all of her ability to focus and her telekinesis failed her, causing almost all of the school’s dishes to crash onto the floor in a shattering mess of porcelain and glass.

*CRASH*

The crash was loud enough to echo down the hallway which on its own would be enough to draw attention to the accident but the worst part was the sheer amount of dinnerware that had been destroyed. A plate or two could be hidden but this was almost every plate, bowl and cup available for dining. There was no way that it would go unnoticed.

“Oh no!” Jean gasped and covered her mouth in shock as her eyes turned into wide saucers. “What have I done?” She looked like she was going to cry as the reality of the situation sunk in. Jean had broken all these dishes while using her telekinesis. “I’m going to get into so much trouble.”

“Oh, shoot fire!” Scott exclaimed in shock and horror. Nobody was coming yet but he knew that wouldn't last long. They needed to think of something and quick. “I'm… I don't suppose your power could put them back together…could it?”

“I can hold them together while I’m thinking about it but it’s not permanent.” Jean’s stomach began to hurt knowing that she had made things so much worse for herself, she had directly disobeyed the Professor. “Plus some of the pieces are so small and there are so many. It could take hours to match them all together, if at all.” Her vision blurred from the few tears that had started. Jean blinked and wiped them away in a futile attempt to hide how upset she was, she didn’t want to cry in front of Scott. “What if I get kicked out of school over this?”

Scott had wanted to be reassuring but that question stopped him cold. What if she got kicked out indeed? The blood drained from his face at the mere thought.

“That won't happen,” he managed to say after swallowing his fear. “We'll just…” He ran to the broom closet and found a dust mop. It would have to do. “We'll clean up real quick and then…and then…”

“I can clean it up.” Jean said somberly. She pulled her hands away from her face and the poor job they were doing of hiding her upset. With several sweeping gestures and using her hands to provide direction, the broken dishes bagged themselves up before disappearing down the hallway and presumably out to the large trash can outside. Scott had mentioned it before but it was amazing how much easier her telekinesis made everything.

“And then we tell the Professor.” Her shoulders slumped with the words “Or at least I will. It’s my mess, you don’t need to come or say anything… heck, you weren’t even supposed to be here. There’s no reason for you to get in trouble with me.”

“No way,” Scott disagreed with an adamant shake of his head. “I talked you into it. Some help I turned out to be…”

He looked down and felt dejected. But then a thought occurred to him. “Hey! I'm adopted here. The Professor can't kick me out, or at least he wouldn't over this. I'll tell him it was my idea, which it was, and maybe he'll go easy on you.” His voice sounded both desperate and hopeful. “It's worth a shot.”

“You would do that for me?” Jean sniffled but seemed to regain some of her composure based on what he was proposing.

“That’s really sweet of you Scott.” She finally looked up at him again. Jean was nervous but managed to produce a smile that was just for him. “Thank you.”

A clearing cough echoed throughout the room.

“It seems there is something you all had better tell me,” said Professor Xavier. “Somebody please start explaining.”

Scott stepped in front of Jean. “It was my fault, sir. I offered to help Jean but I just got in the way. Now it's a huge mess.”

The prominent brow on the Professor’s face arched before he settled his attention on Jean. “Aha… Jean, is that true?”

“Scott offered to help me but I tried to cut corners and used my telekinesis to hurry the task along. I dropped and broke most of the dishes.” Jean shared the moments leading up to the disastrous breaking of dishes. She showed the Professor how they had been laughing together, Jean’s bold but embarrassing physical interaction, his request to hurry the chore so they could spend more time together, that whisper that ruined her entire thought process.

Scott and Jean had both been incredibly withdrawn and depressed children but in those moments shared with Xavier, he saw two teenagers opening up to one another, becoming friends and confidants. A relationship both desperately needed.

“I’m so sorry, Professor.” Jean apologized from her position behind Scott. A noble gesture from him, to shield her from the impending punishment “I disobeyed your direct instructions.”

Not only had Jean come clean, but she did so in a manner that demonstrated a clarity of thought that was often absent. Both of them had demonstrated teamwork as well. It was bumbling, self-seeking, and rebellious yet teamwork all the same.

“Thank you for your candor, Jean.” Charles looked back and forth between them. “Scott, I commend you for taking responsibility as well.”

It was all Charles could do not to laugh. That hutch had been stocked with dishes from a secondhand store. Only a fool would let teenagers anywhere near valuables. The real family heirlooms were safely packed away in the basement.

“But the behavior from you both calls for punishment.” The Professor allowed himself a smirk. Let the punishment fit the crime. “For the next month, the both of you will clean this kitchen from top to bottom without shortcuts or any further shenanigans. That will suffice for working to replace what was damaged.”

Scott was as deflated over a month of kitchen duty as he was excited over having regular time with Jean. The conflicting emotions came together into a flat smile. “Yes, sir.”

“Yes, sir.” Jean replied in the same respectful manner as Scott. She was relieved that she didn’t have to leave the school but was also disappointed in the punishment delegated to them. Scott had just been trying to help her and she had now sucked him into a month of chores. Jean made a promise to herself that she wouldn’t leave Scott to clean the kitchen on his own. Even if she was having a bad day and stepping outside of her room felt like an impossible task, she would leave to help him.

Scott was her friend and Jean wouldn’t abandon him, not now, not ever.