-X- X-Men: Foundations part 2: Changing World Summary Chapter 1: Bright Stars Chapter 2:Stand Still Chapter 3: Empire State University Chapter4: Distant Early Warnings Chapter 5: Brand Annex Chapter 6: Open Secrets Chapter 7: Change of Faith Chapter 8:Winter Breaks Chapter 9: Healing Breaks Chapter 10: Ice Skate Eve Chapter 11: Razor's Edge Chapter 12:Last Call Chapter 13: Thoughts Ignite Chapter 14: Red Tide Chapter 15: The Pass Chapter 16: Spring Breaks Chapter 17: Kid Gloves Chapter 18: Second Natures Chapter 19: Prime Movers Chapter 20: Moving Parts Chapter 21: Barriers Fall Chapter 22: Hand Over Hand Chapter 23: Hand Over Fist Chapter 24: Open Hand Chapter 25: Open Hand Closed Fist Chapter 26: Racing Heart -XX-
X-Men: Foundations part 2: Changing World
Chapter 8
-X-
Winter Breaks Scott dropped by the radio station early. He wanted to return Emory’s book to him before they all went their separate ways for the break, and he knew Emory was catching a train to D.C. after his shift. “What about you?” Emory asked, tucking the book into his bag. “I’m leaving this morning too.” “Where to?” “Spending the holiday with Jean’s family before heading back to Westchester. Ororo is too. I’m surprised she didn’t mention that.” Emory grinned. “I asked her. But I may have been too distracted by the rest of the story to remember what she was doing over the break. Summers– set me straight. When I asked Ororo about her family in Kenya, she spun me this elaborate yarn about her and her mother and her grandmother – going back for generations – all of them having the same white hair and blue eyes, and all of them being worshiped as goddesses because of it. Is she on the level with that story or is she messing with me?” Scott only grinned, leaning back against the station console. “Yes, I agree, when she puts it like that, that story sounds pretty outlandish. But knowing what you know of Ororo Munroe, does anything she said not make absolute perfect sense?” “Holy–” Emory sank back into his chair. “So– I just went out with a real life African goddess?” Scott clapped his shoulder playfully. “And you lived to tell of it– good job.” Emory pulled on his headphones, getting ready to go back on the air. Scott took that as his cue to head for the door. “Hey, friendly warning: last couple of times I’ve seen Ororo and Jean together in the same place, Ted Roberts is never far away.” Scott opened his mouth to correct Emory, to insist that he and Jean were just friends and Jean could see whomever she wanted.... Scott found he couldn’t say it, like a lump had formed in his throat. “Then again,” Emory reconsidered, “if you’re spending holidays with her family, maybe you’ve got nothing to worry about. Have a good one, Scott.” Scott nodded. “You too.”
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On the train ride north to Annadale-on-Hudson, Ororo was animatedly giving Scott and Jean a recap of the previous night’s outing to Lasker Rink. It had been her first experience seeing ice hockey played. Apparently the kids from Heroes for Hire’s youth group were way more enthusiastic for the game than they were skillful in its execution, but a good time was had by all. Jean tapped Scott’s arm excitedly. “After the break, we should go skating at Rockefeller Center; I’ve always wanted to do that!” “Ro, did you learn to ice skate?” Scott asked, strongly suspecting her answer. “Strap metal fins to the bottoms of my feet? When I could easily glide above the ice– I think not.” Scott chuckled at that while Jean scowled. “So, you finally met the illusive Danny Rand. What’s he like?” “Reminds me a bit of Warren. Perhaps a little out of touch with the reality most of us live in, but good-hearted and trying to do good work with the means he was born into.” “I didn’t know he was taking over management for the ice rinks; I’ve seen the advertisements for his martial arts studios: Thunder Dojos. I’d like to check one out. You know, get a little more specialized martial arts training under my belt.” “From what I hear, that interest is reciprocated. It seems your copy of The Art of War was spotted among Emory’s things. One of Rand’s partners in the dojo was quite curious to hear who had recommended it to Emory.” Scott gave Jean a playful shrug. “Seems my reputation already precedes me.” Jean elbowed him, playfully signaling a redirect in the conversation. “No one wants to talk about your reputation.” Scott laughed. Ororo was looking out the window, absently watching the Hudson River pass them by. She looked to Jean every bit like a woman in love... and Jean felt a pang for Emory. His name had hardly entered their conversation unless Scott brought him up. That poor boy would be in for a hell of a let down when he realized Ro’s greater affections were not for him but for Harlem.
-x-
A short time later they shouldered their bags and stepped off the train at Poughkeepsie. John Grey was there to meet them, as expected, waving enthusiastically to mark their arrival. It took only a short drive from the station and they were back in the Grey home, like they’d hardly been gone. Scott and John out in the garage after sending Jean off to meet Sarah. Ororo sitting at the kitchen table while Elaine moved about the kitchen. “What are you studying now, dear?” Elaine paused to look over her shoulder. Ororo had spread a collection of books and papers on the table while Elaine started work on preparing the Christmas Eve dinner. “You should have a break from studying, Ororo; the semester is done, after all.” “It’s not studying, precisely. I have decided on a change of majors for next semester. When I chose natural sciences for my major, I initially thought I would be drawn to subjects like natural history and ecology. While they are still of interest to me, Intro. to Sociology shifted my focus away from natural sciences and more toward social sciences, global studies. And I am glad that Jean convinced me to take Intro. to Psychology along with her. “I wish to learn more about the things that cause human strife: variations in cultures, world history, societies and their treatment of vulnerable populations. A major in social sciences now makes more sense for me.” She also wanted to study those things with an eye to where mutants might one day fit into the patchwork of human history. “Well, don’t get so carried away with planning your studies that you forget to enjoy your time off! I keep telling Jean that, but she doesn’t take me seriously. You all work so very hard.” “I suppose we do but, overall, I feel very fortunate to have the wide array of opportunities I have before me... I suppose it is more personal than that as well,” she conceded. Ororo couldn’t ignore that persistent voice inside her, always insisting that she not take the present moment for granted. “I have become more aware of my own unique amalgam of cultures, countries, and customs. Studying these larger questions of society is also a way of learning where I might fit in relation to all the different peoples and places that have shaped my own existence. It is an expression of gratitude for all that has come before me, to make this moment possible, and an acceptance of my own responsibility to pave the way for others. “Can you believe, for instance, that just a few years ago women weren’t allowed to study alongside male ESU students? I could hardly imagine such a thing when Jean first told me of it; I thought those restrictions were a relic of many decades’ past.” Elaine offered a shrug. “Believe it or not, when I was your age, that sort of thing was still very much the norm. We were ahead of the curve at Bard; they had been a coed school since the 1940's, but in a lot of places coed colleges were still very new. A proper young lady might study for a few years at a respectable all-women’s college, maybe find work as a secretary or in teaching after that. But those schools were often meant as ‘finishing schools’ before marriage and child rearing, not necessarily as pathways to independent careers.” “And did you not chafe against such restrictions?” “At the time, it all seemed more like an adventure. I didn’t worry that independence wouldn’t last; I understood that it wasn’t intended to. Once I’d learned a little something and earned a respectable nest egg for myself, I’d settle down to raise a family. And that’s exactly what I did. I earned a degree from Bard and held down a job while John went on to attend medical school. Once he graduated we got married. After the Army was done with him Sarah came along. “After that, for better or worse, I poured everything I had into the work of family and home. This is my career, my life’s work, and I’m not too modest to say, I’m damn good at keeping this household– well, Sarah will disagree, but still. There’s never a day gone by where John or Sarah or Jean weren’t fed, clothed, and well; they had everything they needed to go out into the world and succeed at work or school. An outside career was never my ambition, but I made sure each of them is able to chase whatever goals they set for themselves. Again, Sarah would object to my characterization– but she’d do it from California, majoring in social work, because that’s what she wants for herself.” Ororo nodded thoughtfully. “Everyone should be fortunate to have such a stable foundation.” She told Elaine a little about Heroes for Hire and the work they were doing to help families in need. “I realize more and more that teaching must first be grounded in the fulfillment of basic needs. The underprivileged are too often written off as unteachable, not because they are unteachable, but because society has already failed them by refusing to provide for – and instead often tearing down – their basic needs. “Without adequate food, housing, safe households and communities, how do we expect children to learn and grow? How are they to reach their full potentials with everything around them working toward opposite ends? We would never plant a crop on worthless soil only to blame the seed for not growing in such dismal conditions; instead we cultivate the land to accept, support, and nourish the seed.” “Jean told me about the work Heroes for Hire is doing. She also said there was a very attractive young man involved.” “Jean speaks out of turn,” Ororo grumbled. Elaine cackled with laughter. She told me that would be your reaction too, dear.” Elaine patted Ororo’s hand affectionately. “I couldn’t resist teasing you a little.”
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Things became more tense when Jean arrived back from the airport with Sarah. It seemed neither Sarah nor Elaine had forgotten the impromptu Thanksgiving debate Sarah had launched last time she’d been home, and Sarah wasn’t responding well to hints that Elaine would not tolerate a repeat of similar behavior when the Xavier Institute crowd returned for tomorrow’s Christmas dinner. They almost made it through Christmas Eve dessert before Sarah abruptly lost patience with Elaine’s warnings. “I’m expected to be polite and watch my manners, but you’ll have HER here. You’ll listen to anything SHE has to say. If it hadn’t been for Xavier, you all would have had Jean locked in a padded room, or strapped into a hospital bed for life.” It took a lot for John to raise his voice, but that did it. “Sarah, that is more than enough!” Sarah didn’t yell back at him like she would have at Elaine; instead she spoke more quietly. “You’re right. It is.” Sarah pushed back from the table. “I’m done. I’m only sorry I didn’t realize that sooner.” “Sarah, wait!” Jean rushed after her sister, who was already halfway to the stairs and showing no sign of pausing to talk this out. Ororo discretely nodded to Scott and he followed her lead, the two of them quietly excusing themselves from the room. Scott wasn’t as attuned to these things as Ororo tended to be, but even for him the feeling was palpable: this squall had been brewing for a very long time. John and Jean had done their best to defuse it, again and again, but things had to come to a head eventually. Ororo led their way out into the Greys’ backyard, where she and Scott settled themselves under a bright white gazebo. There were green wicker benches arranged in a circle around the edges with a swing in the middle. Neither Ororo nor Scott spoke to each other; they could still hear most of the yelling from inside. “I’m done trying with this family!” It hurt, even on the outside, especially knowing how hard John and Jean had worked to avoid this outcome. But maybe that was the problem. Maybe too much time spent avoiding and not enough spent facing hard facts, hurt feelings. Eventually you had to air the dirty laundry, vent the old anger that was just festering under the surface, and trust that all the pieces would still fit once you reached the other side. Upstairs there was no dramatic door slam. Sarah returned back down the stairs with her bags still packed from the airport. Jean begged her to stay through Christmas Day, but Sarah refused. “Nothing is ever going to change, is it? All this time, I thought I was just standing up for you until you could stand up for yourself. I can see now, no one else is ever going to stand up in this house. I’m not doing any good here.” “Sarah. I don’t want you going to battle for me– I just want you here to be my big sister.” But whatever impasse Sarah had finally reached, even Jean’s tearful pleas weren’t enough to change her mind this time. With no one willing to take her side, Sarah walked out... leaving Jean devastated.
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Jean trudged up the gazebo steps and paused to lean on the swing, perhaps remembering better times. She didn’t have to explain what had happened inside. She looked exhausted. A car horn honked out front. Sarah’s cab. That was it then. Sarah was gone. Everything seemed to tremble for an instant, like maybe she was going to faint. Ororo grabbed her hands and pulled her to sit down on one of the benches. There were no words, just a silent storm of emotion. Ororo and Scott sat matching her, shoulder to shoulder, in silent solidarity. They formed a united front as the storm passed over her in waves: feeling helpless, and angry, and scared, and holding herself responsible. Jean vaguely understood that the trembling, faint feeling in her belly wasn’t confined to her. Her tears and anger. Her TK, like a tremor matched with weightlessness, shaking everything, while randomly lifting nearby objects from the ground. Scott slid his arm securely around her shoulders, anchoring her with the motion, while offering a quiet stream of reassurances: reminding Jean that she had control over her powers, not the other way around. He looked over Jean’s head, scanning their surroundings before finally settling to meet Ororo’s gaze. She nodded in understanding. They needed better cover if they were going to protect Jean’s privacy. The Greys were already looking worriedly out their back window. Scott didn’t worry too much about them at the moment, but he was worried about any neighbors who might get curious enough to take a peek over their fences. Within seconds, thunderheads merged at Storm’s unspoken command and the sky fell open with rain. A sudden downpour was rushing in her ears. A clap of thunder made her wince and lose track of the frisbee, already snatched away by an equally sudden gust of wind. Annie raced after it instead. The storm had blown in with the peculiar suddenness of late spring, the kind of weather that could flip from sunny and bright one minute to spawning killer tornadoes the next. Their frisbee was nowhere to be seen. Then brakes were screeching on wet road. There was an awful thud. Followed by more squealing tires. The driver was gone. Annie lay still on the road. Then panic. And pain. Jean was kneeling over Annie, awash in her fear, her pain– feeling her life slipping away. Like two people in one body. Annie was dying and Jean was dying with her. Jean’s mind began shutting down in self-defense, retreating in the face of overwhelming emotional trauma matched with mental powers she wasn’t prepared to handle. She was adrift in darkness. No. The panic stilled and Jean managed to wrench herself away from that moment. The darkness mercifully lifted when she heard Charles Xavier’s voice. “It’s all right, Jean. Don’t be afraid.” Jean slowly opened her eyes. “Nothing is wrong with you,” Xavier answered her unspoken thought. “You have a gift. A very special, very important gift. I didn’t think we’d be having this talk for a few more years. Usually we’re a little older before people like us realize we’re different from everyone else.” “What do you mean, ‘different’? I thought you said nothing was wrong?” “And nothing is. I mean just what I said before. You have a gift. You can use your mind to hear other people’s thoughts, or to speak without saying a word. You’re telepathic, Jean.” Xavier placed a hand over hers, in comfort and in solidarity. I know because I have that gift too. “Annie?” Jean was hesitant to ask. “I am truly sorry, Jean. But she died before they could get her to the hospital. There was nothing you, nor anyone, could have done to save her.” “I tried,” Jean insisted. “I tried so hard just to hang on to her– but I couldn’t.” “I know. That’s how you got here. I placed protective barriers in your mind to prevent your powers from overwhelming you again, the way they did with Annie. Your mind is not ready just yet, but, in time, you will learn to properly use your gifts, just as I did.” Xavier smiled. And, in time, I will be here to help you, he promised her telepathically. Five years later, Xavier was talking to John and Elaine, telling Jean’s parents about his new school for gifted youngsters, and how he believed Jean should enroll there.... Her next flash of memory was seeing Scott standing on the front steps at Xavier Institute. Then walking arm in arm through the grounds with Ororo, the two of them already fast friends, Scott firmly in stride beside them. Her emotions began to steadily calm and come back to the present. Jean knew Ororo was holding Jean’s hands in both of hers. Scott had his arm around her, her tears on his shoulder. He drew back slightly now as Jean composed herself. There was a low rumble of thunder as a warm wind cleared the last of the rain away before allowing December’s cool air to rush back in. Jean shook her head, finally getting her thoughts into words. “After Annie, I think kid me decided: No more losses. Somehow, keeping everyone together here became a part of that. I don’t know; maybe I was just trying to erase it all. All the pain, the trauma and conflict. I was trying to hang on to some fragment of the way it was before, enough to put things back right again... happily ever after... but that was impossible. Instead I just made myself responsible for keeping everyone together here... even when they didn’t want to be here, together, anymore.” “That is too much for you to take on yourself, Jean,” Ororo insisted. “You cannot be responsible for other people’s emotions, no matter how much you wish for their happiness.” Jean nodded. “But it was better than remembering. For a long time, I’d wake up still feeling night terrors after the coma. All cold, barren landscapes and empty darkness. That place terrified me for a long, long time... always thinking I could be sucked out there again if I did something wrong... if I couldn’t control it... if someone else died. So many things I couldn’t control; I thought, maybe this one I could, you know?” She glanced up at Scott. “Instead of tearing them apart, this time I could be the glue that held them all together.” “I would say, ‘It’s not your fault.’ But I know you already know that... and I think you also know, no matter how many times you tell yourself it’s not–” “It still feels like it is anyway.” Scott nodded helplessly. “I think I’m ready to go back in now,” Jean decided after a few more minutes had passed in silence. Scott and Ororo each released her. Jean wiped her eyes on her sleeve, prompting Ro to provide her with a refreshing mist. Scott handed over a handkerchief. “Show off,” Jean grumbled toward Ororo with a laugh. Jean’s laughter made all of them laugh in relief. “How do I look now?” she prompted, returning Scott’s handkerchief. Scott smiled, briefly unable to form words. “Cold.” He finally found one. The winter winds had now fully reasserted themselves, a blast of cold air pushing the last of Ro’s handiwork aside. “Good. You’ll tell no one there were tears.” She glanced between them each in warning. Scott chuckled. “I didn’t see a thing.” “Nor I,” echoed Ororo. “Thank you both.” Jean gave them each a quick, tight hug and managed a reassuring smile before crossing the yard to return inside, Ororo and Scott trailing behind her.
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After dinner Scott and Jean kept up familiar routines: washing and drying dishes, then sitting down for a cup of coffee before bed. Elaine was agitated and keeping herself busy, but she was staying uncharacteristically silent. John had retreated outdoors for some fresh air. Jean had to keep reminding herself that there was no use in going up to check on Sarah; she wasn’t there. Things felt broken.... In a way, they already had been; Jean had been trying to fix the break, hold everything together, for years. She wasn’t sure she knew how to let go. Ororo went up to bed when Jean did. Scott suspected, mostly so that Jean wouldn’t be alone and so that she would have someone to talk to if she felt like talking. After a while Elaine went outside to check on John, who also went up to bed shortly after coming back inside. That left Scott, who couldn’t sleep, and Elaine, who didn’t seem to want to sleep. She was furiously scrubbing the kitchen when Scott came back downstairs about an hour after going upstairs. He paused when Elaine glanced in his direction, then crossed the room to look idly out the kitchen window. John had left the lights on out back. “You know, John built that gazebo after the accident so I could see the girls play from the house.” “I didn’t know that.” Scott imagined it had been hard for John or Elaine to let Jean and Sarah out of their sights after what they’d all been through. He paused, leaning against the kitchen counter behind him. It wasn’t lost on him that a year or two ago he would never have gotten involved right now. He’d have been certain it wasn’t his place and, furthermore, that he had nothing to offer. He didn’t feel that way anymore. The Greys weren’t his family, but they were as close as he got to one. And while he might not be able to help them, he could try; he understood now that it was important to try... even, and sometimes especially, when there was nothing concrete you could do to help. Just to offer a shoulder, an ear, the knowledge that you cared and would be there if and when you were needed. He had learned most of that from Jean, but he was under no illusion that Elaine would react like Jean did. Elaine might not want help at all, or his help in particular. She might push back against discussing her problems or worries. That wouldn’t stop him from trying to help; he’d learned that from Jean too. So tonight he stood in Elaine Grey’s kitchen, the two of them staring silently at one another from across the room, waiting to see what happened next. “I’m sorry you all had to see that.” Scott shook his head. “I’ve seen worse.” “Worse than a mother driving her child away?” Elaine responded sardonically. Scott’s reply was surprisingly stern. “That’s not what happened.” “It’s easy with you, Scott,” Elaine bit back tiredly, “you don’t know any better.” Scott didn’t miss a beat. “Jean and John know, far better than I do– and neither of them is blaming you. This storm has been brewing for a long time, but that’s all it is. A storm that will pass.” Elaine had finally stopped her whirlwind of anxious motion simply to listen. “Sarah loves and cares about you,” Scott insisted. “If she didn’t care, none of the differences would matter. But they do. She cares what you think, even when she doesn’t always want to. That’s why she’ll be back.” Elaine smiled. “Since when did you get so wise?” This time there was no bite to the words, just understated gratitude. Scott smiled back. “I’m not. I’m usually no good at dealing with people or sorting out emotions, but I am pretty good at understanding the why of it all: reasons, motivations... at least that’s what Jean tells me.” He paused for a moment. “You did the best you could, out of love for your family; Jean knows that and so does Sarah, even if she can’t accept it right now.” Elaine turned and started a pot of coffee, apparently conceding that neither of them were going to bed right away. “Why are you down here and not upstairs asleep?” Elaine shifted gears, digging into Scott’s sleeplessness instead of her own. Scott sighed. “Doesn’t matter,” he answered reflexively. He recognized the redirect behind her concern; he also had no desire to add his own troubles to hers. And yet, as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew Elaine would call him on what he’d just said. “Yes, it does, Scott,” she replied. Now she was the one sounding stern, firmly steering him to sit down at the kitchen table. No way around it but through it. Scott offered a brief summary of his increasingly poor sleep over the past month since he’d seen her last. What bothered him most was the nightmares that had started waking him regularly. He kept dreaming about things from the past, things he thought he was done with a long time ago.... “Things I don’t want to keep reliving,” he finished quietly. Elaine stifled a curse at herself. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier, Scott.” “Why? What you said was true. I only have a marginal view of your family dynamic and none of my own for comparison.” “Well, that doesn’t mean I should throw that – or any of your past – back in your face.” “I knew you didn’t mean it like that. And even if you did, that’s still better than trying to sugarcoat unpleasant facts or dance around uncomfortable truths.” Elaine smiled again. “That is exactly why you and I get on so well,” she decided, reaching across the table to briefly cup his chin in her hand before she stood to go check on the coffee. That drew a chuckle from Scott followed by the prerequisite, “Yes, ma’am.” Scott agreed. Elaine liked her physical demonstrations of affection, but she didn’t linger over them to the point of making them an imposition or an invasion. She pushed Scott’s boundaries in ways that were good for him. He appreciated her blunt honesty and he enjoyed her unique way of doting on him more than he would want to admit. The combination set him at ease; he knew immediately where he stood with Elaine and he knew he could speak as straightforwardly to her in return. That was why they got along well. Elaine brought back two steaming coffee cups. “Those months Jean was in the hospital were the worst nightmare for any family, a living hell on any parent. I can’t imagine how awful it was on a twelve-year-old, and I’ve no doubt we failed Sarah terribly while all our attention was on saving Jean. But a twenty-year-old should be able to see what a twelve-year-old couldn’t. Her point of view wasn’t the only point of view, and her pain wasn’t the only pain. Parents aren’t superheroes, we’re just people too.” Elaine took a sip of her coffee. “Sarah’s right to call me overprotective. Jean was the baby of the family, and she was my baby. But Sarah was always an eager big sister too. She didn’t want to go to camp that summer without Jean, but I insisted: ten was still too young. Sarah was the one who always wanted to run ahead, and she was always left feeling like I was holding her back. It was that way since she was a little child, and Jean always idolized her, would have followed her anywhere. “Sarah had a twelve-year-old’s hope. Jean would wake up, if not today then tomorrow. If not tomorrow, then the next day, or the next. She took our lack of faith in Jean’s recovery as betrayal–” Elaine corrected herself. “She took my lack of faith as a betrayal. “John pressed every favor, every contact, nonstop, until he found his way to Charles and Moira. While I spent every waking moment caring for a comatose child, pleading with God, minute by minute and hour by hour, to release her – one way or the other – just let her, and all of us, go. Feeling my heart break a little more each day for a loss I couldn’t even grieve.... It was intolerable, watching that beautiful little child – so full of hope and brimming with dreams – waste away in front of me. While I sat in a hospital room, day after day, remembering the worst moment of my life. “It’s a quiet street; it should have been perfectly safe for ten-year-old children to play outside in the yard.... If I live a thousand years, I will never forget... those two little darlings.” Elaine hurriedly swiped away tears. “But it worked out for Jean,” Scott reminded her quietly. “You found Professor Xavier.” Elaine waved off the credit. “That was all John’s doing. He kept going nonstop until he found someone who could help, and Charles was a godsend. We’d hardly seen one another since school, after that Charles went off to Oxford and then into the Army.... He did always take an interest in Jean. But, still, after his accident– well, Charles had enough to be dealing with. John wouldn’t have gone to him at all if it hadn’t been as a last resort. John was devastated; we all were. It was killing us, the helplessness,” Elaine remembered with a waiver in her voice. In that moment Scott was strongly reminded of the way Jean described holding on to Annie, for as long as she could, until there was nothing left for her to hold on to. And when she finally did let go she was left lost and alone. “From the moment Jean came home, I wanted so badly to forget those awful months had ever happened, just go back to normal, that I almost convinced myself normal was a thing: something I could create and orchestrate if I did everything just so. Naturally, the more I tried to force it, the more Sarah saw through me and became determined never to let me forget my mistakes.” “But Jean got better.” “Jean got better. We all learned to move forward, and I guess for a while we all walked on eggshells with each other, with Jean. Feeling like no one wanted to upset fate. This miraculous intervention we’d all witnessed, with Charles giving Jean back to us. The old tensions and resentments never went away, never got resolved, at least not before Sarah left for out west and Jean for Xavier’s school. As it was, it took everything in me to let her go– to let them go. If I live a thousand years, I don’t think there will ever be a time when I can see either of them walk out the door without feeling a single instant of completely irrational terror, set deep in my bones, that I’ll never see them again. “Sarah’s not wrong about me. Trying obsessively to make things go back to the way they were before the bottom fell out from under us. The day before the accident I had dreams for the future, dreams I could never have put into words even if I’d tried to. The day after there were only hard decisions... and Sarah will never forgive me for making the wrong one, for ‘giving up’ on Jean’s recovery. I knew we couldn’t live in that limbo forever. John couldn’t let go and Sarah wouldn’t. I wasn’t willing to let them break under the strain. At least that’s what I tell myself so I can sleep at night. The day before we had a whole future ahead of us, but we’ll never be who we were the day before... only who we are now.” “But now’s not so bad?” “No. Most days, who we are now is just fine. John and Sarah, both, were more willing to accept the changes than I was. Trying hard to understand this new reality, while I mostly wanted to retreat from it. Sarah became more and more determined that I was unwilling to let Jean grow up, and that meant Jean needed Sarah as her advocate and her protector. As far as Sarah is concerned, mine is an unforgivable sin. I can’t even be angry with her for that, not really. “In a moment of truth she saw me for who I really am, no longer who she thought I was. Thank God, I didn’t have to choose, but I know how close it came to that. Everything very nearly went the other way and, if I had to, I’d make the same choice again: to go on with our old lives as best we could, even when that meant letting one of my babies go.” There was a brief silence. “I hate to know what you must think of me, hearing that.” “I think you did the best you could with a set of choices I wouldn’t wish on anyone. Coming from someone who is very good at holding tight to all the blame, I’d tell you, you did the right thing.” Elaine shook her head. “When you make the only choice you can, and you know in your heart of hearts you’d do it again – no matter how hard it was, or how much it still hurts – you did the right thing.”