@scxttsummersââ
The red of Scottâs glasses prevented her from making out his expression. Once, it wouldnât have mattered. Once, Jean had always been able to tell what he was thinking, even before theyâd had a psychic link. Theyâd never actually needed it. One look had been enough, a perfect team, on and off the field. Not anymore, clearly, if her performance in todayâs mission was anything to go by. Sheâd just been off, a little bit behind every move the team had made, a little too slow to follow every instruction, throwing everyone off balance. âSo,â Jean broke the silence eventually, looking up at him and then away again. âThat didnât go well. Maybe Iâm not ready for-â She stopped. There was nothing Jean felt particularly ready for: not being alive again, not pretending everything was fine and normal, as though she hadnât gone power mad and killed a lot of people, begged Scott to kill her, and then killed herself. Maybe that was what it came down to, in the end, like it always had for Jean: Scott Summers. Not ready for him. She was definitely not ready for him. âFor being on the team again.âÂ













