New Marvel Presents:

X-Men # 85

3.6 Billion People and Not a Soul in Sight

Dawn:

Be it ever so beautiful, the sun is a vigilate, disciplined soldier that rises with the dawn, and falls at crest of night. It is a soldier with a duty that is done selflessly, and largely unflattered. However, the earth could not function with this selfless soldier for there is but one sun, Scanner mused, and only one road ... to glory. Beautiful, sunny rays of glory. Like a soldier upon the beaches of Omaha, the darkness is refuted, giving Scanner the one thing that she always wakes up at dawn to remember: The remembrance of hope.

"Scanner?" A meek voice called from behind the sliding-glass door. She turned to find Neophyte standing half way in the door with one foot out on the cement porch and the other inside of the mansion. She leapt in surprise." I am not disturbing you," he paused, unsure of himself, "Am I?"

"Oh...No...No..." She muttered, flustered at being caught of guard.She quickly ran a hand nervously through her long, blonde hair. "I was just...thinking." She suddenly felt very self-conscious of herself, for a reason she wasn't quite sure of. An awkward silence soon followed, and she felt her heart twisting in her chest under his blank, questioning expression.

"Oh, then, I will go..." He answered quickly, his accent betraying his German nationality. He felt his own heart racing beneath his own shyness. If she didn't want to be bothered, he certainly did not want to intrude.

"You can stay..." She offered as she motioned for him to stand by her.

The warm sun felt wondrous upon his pale cheeks as he stepped out into the light of day. He leaned against the cement railing, and stared out into the distance as she did the same. The longer they stood there in tense silence, the more both of them felt compelled to speak until finally..." What were you thinking of?"

Another long and awkward silence followed. Neophyte thought that she either had not heard him or was about to ignore the question completely when she finally began to speak.

"Doesn't it seem like the whole world has been jaded?"She whispered barely audibly. Why was she telling him this? She was the only one who could possibly feel this way. She was naive...And because of her naivety, she hurt. . .Her heart ached because she felt that no one, or at least no adult, could possibly understand. . . .Wishing for purity was nothing more than a child's fantasy, or so the world seemed to say.

Neophyte blinked. "Jaded?"

"Like Amelia and Magneto...and..." She sighed helplessly. "It just--Doesn't it seem like the world believes in nothing?"

"Many people are atheists, Scanner." He shrugged as watched a squirrel scamper up a tree in the distance.

"That isn't quite what I meant..." Scanner sighed, and then stole a glance out of the corner of her eye at Neophyte. He didn't understand....Neophyte was probably the one person who probably could have understood. He was so kind...so generous...naive like herself... "No one...knows what a dream is anymore, Neophyte..."He could hear a twinge of pain sneaking into her into her usual tone. "No one believes in people...People are just so..." She felt a tear welling up in her eyes, and she clenched her teeth in an effort to keep the tears at bay.

"Hardened?" Neophyte offered quietly.

Hardened, she thought to herself, Maybe....he does understand...."Yeah. . . ." She whispered softly as a solitary tear formed in her eye, and slipped down her cheek... "I just feel so alone...so immature..."

"Because you are not jaded..."Neophyte paused, taking a moment to look upon the glowing orb that always promised the hope of a new day." It does not mean that you are ... immature." He shrugged as he continued to watch the squirrel nibble on a nut that had fallen to the ground, purposely avoiding her glance.

"Then what does it mean, Neophyte?!" She snapped with a little more anger than, perhaps, she meant to. She inwardly cursed herself, as Neophyte winced, knowing how sensitive Neophyte truly was. " I mean..."She spoke softly. "I joined the Acolytes because I thought that I was weak and immature. I thought that all mature adults were as jaded as the rest of the Acolytes were..."

"I--I think..." He managed to sputter. "That...it means that you are...prepared to face the world..." He ran a hand through his red-hair nervously." And that...you are strong enough..."He forced himself to turn to look at her, despite the discomfort his shyness caused him.". . .to where the world does not break you." He looked to the ground, unable to accept her attention any longer, but...he also felt...relieved; Relieved that, he reasoned, someone else shared his world view. " And...maybe, that is why we are here...To prove that we are not jaded enough to believe...that the world cannot be changed."

"Yes..." Scanner sighed as a slight smile crossed her face. "Is...that why you betrayed the Acolytes in France?" She looked down, knowing that she, herself, had cast a stone upon him during his time of trial.

He raised a brow at her, not suspecting that the incident would have come up. He furthermore found himself to be somewhat ill-at-ease talking about it. "I....yes, I suppose so...When that woman was killed..." He closed his eyes, blinking out the image of the muddy, bloodied woman. "I was....horrified. Magneto, he promised...a better world for us all...But that woman, she did nothing...She--she helped me...."

* * *

I had merely escaped from the grasp of Cortez. The MacTaggert woman had created doubts in my mind as to Cortez's motives. After hearing a condemning conversation between himself and the Gamemaster, I was face down in a pit of mud when she found me.

"Bonjour!"

"Urnm?"

"At least you're alive. That's a good sign."

She was so...warm...and caring....And I reacted like a fool. I did not understand.

"Vas! You--You're a HUMAN, aren't you?!"

"I don't think anyone has ever phrased it that way, but...yes, I'm human. Guilty as charged."

She wiped the mud off of my face. She helped me to my feet. Yet, I still did not understand.

"I d-don't understand this. Why are you helping me? Do you know who--WHAT--I am?"

This woman...She was not jaded, as you were previously speaking of. She was....

"I know you're not very bright for catching a nap in the grotto five minutes before the tide comes in. Other than that, you're a person in trouble. What more do I need to know? Now let's get you--"

Katu...He killed her before she could complete her sentence. All that I could manage to muster was:

"I-- I don't even know...your name."

[[Uncanny X-Men #300 -Kari]]

* * *

"I'm sorry..." Scanner muttered as she turned her back to her friend.

"Vas? What do you have to be sorry for?" He gingerly placed a hand upon her shoulder. It was then, that he felt them give a violent shake. "Are you...crying?"

"I'm fine..." She answered quickly. "It is just...I was such a fool to believe...That Magneto's dream was something of a placid reality...And that I could be something...that I was not."

"Then...perhaps, this truly is a new day....with the X-Men, after all."

* * *

A black pool of inky darkness greets him as he closes his eyes, and allows his mind to wonder past the inky rivers of remembrance. In a small boat, he floats past the forests of yesterday with the wind whispering through the branches of things he would rather not remember. He covers his ears as they tauntingly whisper his name. He glances up to find an angel standing before him on the skiff, its purity blinding in contrast to the darkness of his memories. At first, he is overcome by great joy and relief. Surely this angel is his saving grace. Surely this angel will rescue him from the haunting that lies about him. Surely it is the answer. It is then, that he notices the scythe held in his left hand. A scythe tinged with the stain of crimson. His joy melts into fear as the words he meant to say drip off of the angel's sickle with bitter remembrances. The angel whispers his name with a bloodlust on the verge of a revenge. He is surprised at his reaction as the sickle is raised above his head. He reacts with little emotion as he looks death in the face. The sickle is brought down with sickening ferocity. The blade pierces his heart as a black oil leaks from within the wound. He watches with morbid allure as the contents of his heart spill out upon his chest as the sickle continues to rise and fall. He looks up at death, who merely continues stabbing as the words he meant to say haunt him into the limitless expanse of eternity. His past would haunt him for an eternity, for death was something that Nathaniel Essex had cheated, and death was not one who took being cheated lightly.

He awoke in his lab, his sanity dangling closer and closer to the brink as he felt his the thumping mass within his chest. It was the same dream he had had the day before and the day before that.

All about him he could hear them say: "Adam."

He turned to find no one there, and merely shrugged it off as a figment of his imagination. Until it said it again:

"Adam."

"Who is there?!" He snarled, only to find no one else in the lab with him. His first inclination was to think of a telepathic assault. No, he was sure he had heard it.

* * *

"Hey Hank...?" Bobby cautiously stuck his head into the door of the lab. The last time he had hadn't knocked, he caught Hank dancing to "Jump, Jump Shake your Booty". Now, he reasoned, wasn't the time for practical antics. "Can I come in?"

Hank quickly glanced over his shoulder and smiled, spotting his best friend. He quickly turned away from the chemical on the burner and pushed his tight-fitting goggles upon the top of his head. "Entree vu, Mon Popsicle." Hank grinned toothily as he perched atop a stool. "Upon further inspection, Hank frowned slightly at his friend's somewhat worried expression. An expression, Hank mused, that he didn't wear often.

"We've been friends for a long time... right?" Bobby shuffled his feet nervously, glancing down at his feet. Of course, he knew the answer to this seemingly simple question, but he could not find a better way to spring into such a delicate conversation.

"Since we first came to Xavier's, Bobby..." He tilted his head curiously at his best friend. Generally, conversations that began with such tentative phrasing lead to trouble. "What is vexing your lamenting lobes?"Bobby raised a brow in confusion. Finally! Hank grinned at his best friend. An expression of Bobby's that he knew! "What's on your mind?"

Bobby managed a small grin, which managed to stay there, much to Hank's delight."Yeah..." The grin grew into a somewhat of an embarrassed smirk. "Well, you see....there's this girl..."

"Ah...." Hank grinned, growing more relieved by the second. "A particularly vexing problem, indeed! Women are particularly confusing creatures! He put a large hand atop Bobby's shoulder.

"Yeah, well....she's not like the other girls I've dated..." Bobby began. "She's...I dunno....She's different! I mean, she's smart....she's beautiful...."

"And you're wondering what such a benevolent beauty would see in a man such as yourself?"

"Well, yeah...." Bobby glanced down again, shuffling his brown loafers across the linoleum tile floor. Hank grinned beneath a tuffet of blue fur. His eyes sparkled with a strange mixture of confidence and childlike excitement. "But...you won't tell her, will ya, Hank?"

Hank chuckled, his large chest rising and falling with the effort. "Perhaps I should given the way you've handled *my* silent affections."Hank grinned, toothily.

"Hey, I can keep a secret....Remember how I knew that you had a crush on Trish for weeks?!" Bobby whined. "C'mon Hank...promise me you won't tell her."

"And, of course, after those weeks of precisely planning a way to express my feelings to her, we went down to the station..."He sighed." And you just happened to find some way to slip a cue card into the stack that said: "Hank McCoy loves Trish Tilby." I still blush, thinking that all of New York heard her proclaim those words...Do I need to bring up --"

"Okay, okay...Yeesh." Bobby smirked, sheepishly as he lifted himself, backwards, up ontop of counter. "But just--"

"Bobby." Hank cut him off, raising his hands in a defensive position. "How could I possibly tell her. You haven't told who *she* is." Hank grinned, placing his furry, blue hands upon his hips.

"Oh..." He paused."...yeah..."Bobby looked down at shoes, which, coincidentally, he was kicking back and forth. "Heh. I guess I got so wrapped up in it, I forgot. " He rubbed the back of his head nervously. A habit, he realized, he had picked up from Scott.

"Its Cecilia, isn't it, Bobby?"Hank watched as his friend's jaw dropped, and proceeded to momentarily twitch. Hank grinned in triumph.

"How--How did you--?!" Bobby sputtered before jumping off of the counter. "Oh, come on, Hank. Was I that obvious?"

"Well, despite the tale-tale sign of saliva dripping from your puppy-faced expression every time she passes, Bobby..." Hank turned away, taking a moment to hang his white lab coat upon a wooden peg. "You also spelled her name out in your bowl of Alphabets this morning." He added as an afterthought, smirking, while glancing over his shoulder.

"Okay, okay..." Bobby held up his hands in submission. "You win, but..." His voice trailed off as he leaned against the wall, defeatedly. "How do I even tell her?" The question was a simple one. The answer, however, perplexed Hank McCoy.

"Bobby, I have seen you ask a multitude of women...I'm sure you'll find a way."

* * *

The broken and shattered glass littered the cement floor of the most highly technological lab that had ever befallen most human eyes. He had thrown the vile and watched in maddening hatred as it had shattered against the cement wall. Yet another failure. Six hundred and twenty-eight tries had come to nothing more than the further loss of his sanity. Sanity, he laughed. The sound of his own laughter sent chills down his spine; it was a sound so unfamiliar to him. He his chest rose and fell. He was Nathaniel Essex. He was beyond petty human emotions. What was beyond human emotion? He wondered fruitlessly as he watched the red sample slip down the wall onto the pile of glass at the foot of the explosion. Was it truly madness?

He could hear her whisper in the back of his mind. He grasped his head as he fell to his knees. All he could hear was her constant chatter. That *name* over and over again.

* * *

The medic reeked of chemical disinfectant. It also reeked of other things, Logan thought morbidly: Death. He had entered this room one too many times to find one teammate or another laying on their deathbeds. He forced his eyes away from the small child's bed in one corner of the lab, shaking the memories of young Illyana Rasputin out of his ancient mind. Images from a distant time...the Civil War, the Spanish-American War...Images that his mind couldn't quite comprehend flooded into his already tired mind. Deciding that he didn't enter the medic to drudge up the past, he quickly continued past several empty beds to the one where he had laid Orroro earlier. After their battle with Exodus, the mutant and friend that Logan had jokingly dubbed "'Ro", lay unconscious. Her breathing, he noted with his uncanny sense of hearing, was not labored and regular, and he cursed the annoying heart monitor in the background. He looked down upon her for several long moments before finally brushing a stray, strand of pure white hair out of her contrasting black skinned-face. He smirked to himself at the paradox that made Ororro Monroe. A black woman with the soul of pure white. A woman so in touch with the roaring lion of the elements, that she could turn it into a placid kitten. A woman so much like him, and yet not at all in other ways.

"'Ro...don't know if you can hear me or not, but..."He sighed, pulling a nearby chair next to the bed, and quietly sitting in it. "I just came down here t'see how you were doin'...Don't really have that much t'say, but...I figured you could use the company." He slowly reached through the iron railing of the bed and took her hand. "I've been in one too many scraps, t'know that hurtin' alone is like bein' in hell." He ran his thumb across the top of her hand gingerly, watching her dark skin wrinkle underneath such little pressure. Her head turned slightly to the side, and her heart race increased momentarily before finally resuming its placid state. Logan climbed to his feet, still having her hand in his. "I jus' want you t'know yer not alone, 'Ro."

With that, the mysterious man named Logan softly replaced her hand upon her chest, took one last look at her, and began to exit the room quietly.

"I will never be alone with a friend like you, Logan." She whispered softly.

* * *

Blissful sleep was something, oddly, that Adam Essex missed as a soul that belonged to God. After all, it had been nearly 300 years since his death of an unknown disease. Death. His travels down the River Styx to the banks of death were something that he found himself preferring not to remember. He found it deeply ironic, however, that he found himself being the guardian angel of a child not yet born. A dead child of the past protecting the life of unborn child of the future. It was an idea that excited him, and yet, frightened him all at once. Given his short life span, he never really had the experience of dealing with babies. A glimmer of childish glee and wonder filled his seven-year old eyes as he sat at the foot of Scott and Jean's bed, watching her womb slowly rise and fall with every breath that she took.

How did the baby get inside of her stomach? He wondered as he craned his neck to get a closer view. How does the baby get out of there? He pondered these questions for several moments, never taking his eyes off of her womb. If Scott or Jean had awakened, they could have visibly seen the gears turning within his youthful mind. Several seconds later, his eyes widened with a realization! THE BELLY BUTTON!! Of course!! He smacked his head. The baby must climb out through the belly button!! But...He pulled up his shirt, looking at his own little innie, how does the baby fit through such a small hole? He frustratedly dropped the tail of his shirt, and cradled his chin in his small hand. Maybe....It stretches....But how...He lifted his shirt up again, and pulled on the outer rim of his belly button. Much to his disappointment, his belly button only stretched to the size of a quarter. He frowned in frustration. Maybe babies don't come from belly buttons after all.... It was then that a realization hit him. His eyes lit up again. Yes!! Of course!! Why didn't he think of it before!! Jean must have a *MAGIC* belly button!

Adam could barely contain his excitement. Wow! A real magic belly button!! He watched Jean's stomach with utter glee. Maybe he could...touch it! Just once...What could it hurt? He remembered God's stern warning not to be seen, but... He took another glance at Jean's stomach. It will only be once....

With a tentative anxiousness, Adam carefully made his way across the strewn covers on top of the bed. There...Just under her shirt, was *the* magic belly button. He just wanted one look...One look wouldn't hurt....

At least it wouldn't have, if an unsuspecting mother-to-be had not chosen to wake up at that very moment.

An unearthly scream pierced the air as Mrs. Jean Grey-Summers climbed into the air with her telekinetic powers. Her husband, Scott, nearly toppled off of his side of his side of the bed after being startled by the scream. The young couple wasn't the only thing frightened.Adam Essex jumped backwards;his eyes wide with fright.

"Who are you?!" Jean demanded, sternly. It was only after a few moments, did Jean realize that her belly button's assailant was not only a child, but also somewhat transparent.

"Don't move." Scott placed his hand upon his visor.

"I'm sorry!! I'm sorry!!" Adam's eyes began to well up with tears. "I didn't mean to!! I only wanted to see your magic belly button!!"

Scott and Jean exchanged quizzical looks. {{Scott I can't read him telepathically ... Its...as if he's not even there.}} Jean never removed her eyes from the small child.

{{Maybe he is in a phased form....}} Scott thought back to his wife.

{{I don't think so, Scott....}} Jean replied to her husband. {{Even Kitty has some form of psychic trace even in her phased form. Its like...he isn't even...}}

{{Alive.}} Scott finished her sentence for her. He cleared his throat, looking over at the frightened young boy who had retreated to the edge of the bed. "What is your name?"

"My name is Adam. . . ." Adam began quietly, looking down at his shoes, embarrassedly.

"Okay... Adam...."Jean began. "Its okay, Adam. We're not going to hurt you...." She spoke softly, but confidently. Adam tore his eyes away from her shoes, to briefly look her in the eye. "Why are you here, Adam? Where are your parents?"

"My Mother...she...passed away...a long time ago." Adam said in a muffled tone.

"I'm sorry..." Jean reached out to touch his shoulder, but he retreated quickly to the farthest corner of the bed.

A long, awkward silence ensued until Scott finally intervened."What about your father? He's probably worried sick about you..."

"He...does not know that I'm back yet...." Adam looked away. "I have...been gone for a very long time..." He paused."I am...sort of afraid of him now. God says that we are to love our Mother and Father, but...My Father...He does horrible things..." Adam sniffled, and Jean felt her heart break as she slowly began to s closer to the edge of the bed to comfort the boy.

"What....sort of horrible things, Adam?" Scott asked hesitantly. He wondered if the poor boy had been abused, and then taken away from his home.

"He...hurts people..."Adam only replied. "He hurts people even when they tell him to cease...."

{{We should call the police, Jean...Whoever looks out for him is probably worried sick.}}

{{I know, Scott, but this is more complicated than that....}} Jean sighed with a heavy heart. Mutants, no matter what age, were treated horribly by the police and other government sectors. Turning this poor boy to them would be very comparable to sending Daniel into the lion's den.

{I know, Jean...}} Scott sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit he had ever since he was a k

"That is why I am here, though." Adam puffed out his chest, trying betray the scared child within himself. "I am here to protect her." He pointed to the small bulge beneath Jean's sleep shirt. "I am supposed to protect her from him."

"Him?" Scott raised a brow.

"My father..." He paused. "Nathaniel Essex."

* * *

With a curse, trial number six hundred and thirty was thrown across the room as he swept his forearm across the lab table surface, knocking everything to the floor. He fell to his knees, the chemical stench rising from the haphazard mixture of the chemicals across the room.

"Adam. . . ."

"Leave me alone you insoluble wench!!" He clenched his teeth in frustration. "Do you hear me Rebecca?!" His demand was answered in the form of an echo of his own, demented voice down the lonely corridor, followed by the repetition of his own pounding heart. "Do you hear me?!" He screamed. "I will find the cure!"

* * *

The Danger Room is and will always be something that the X-Men will revere with great pride, and yet, great frustration at times. Many of them have spent countless hours of grueling training and fruitful physical exercise within the grasp of its matrix. Today was the day when the new recruits were to be hazed into the X-Men, so to speak. Today, Maggot, Cecilia Reyes, Bobby Drake,Scanner, and Neophyte will face its deadly wrath.

"Are you sure they're ready for this, Scott?"

"I'm sure they'll be fine,Jean. I'm only sending a few battle bots in after them." Scott glanced up at his wife with a reassuring smile. "Beside Bobby will be with--"

"And that is supposed to be some sort of reassurance?" The cold voice of Amelia Voght resonated off of the control room's walls. There wasn't a trace of humor in her voice.

"Good Morning, Amelia." Jean greeted her with a smile. Her kind gesture was only returned by a curt murmur.

"What will they be up against, Summers?" Amelia asked, not taking any minutes for pleasantries. She crossly crossed her arms across her chest in a defensive position. Caught off guard by her rudeness, Scott cleared his throat before he had a chance to answer her.

"Just two battle bots. We'll see how they fair from there."

Amelia's grim facial expression never changed.

"Don't worry about them, Amelia." Jean said, trying reassure the mother hen about her "chicks" . "You can trust Bobby..."Jean paused, taking the opportunity to make a point. "Just like you can trust the rest of us."

Amelia snorted in retort. "If there has been one thing that either Xavier or Magnus has taught me," She began as the Danger Room began to shift and contort below them. "Is that the only thing that you can trust, is yourself."

Jean looked over at Scott momentarily. "That's an awfully lonely existence, Amelia." She stated, watching the guarded woman's expression.

Amelia only glared at her, causing Jean to end the conversation by staring down into the Danger Room below.

* * *

"Heads up, folks!" Bobby Drake shouted across the Danger Room to its lingering occupants. "Battle bot comin' up at twelve o'clock high!"

Cecilia glanced over her shoulder, her dreadlocks flinging behind her, as she spotted the metal battle bot emerge from a hidden panel within the room, itself. Cecilia wasn't the only one who noticed. The young ex-Acolytes also varied their positions as the battle bot flew onto the scene. Japeth merely looked at it as if it had been there the entire time.

The battle bot "looked" at them from its lofty perch, as if studying them momentarily. Then, without warning, the bot turned into a fast-paced dive, streaming toward Japeth, who barely dived out of the way in time.

"Yo! Maggot!! Keep those eyes open!!" Bobby shouted across the Danger Room at his embarrassed friend.

"Ain't got much to fight back with, mate." Was Maggot's only reply.

"You've gotta work together!!" Bobby encouraged them as he watched the battle bot out of the corner of his eye. With alarming quickness, the battle bot revealed two gun touretts, and began firing on the young Acolytes with rubber bullets. The bullets flew through Neophyte's phased for as a young Scanner, armed with twin blasters managed to dive out of the way, and fire at the bot's backside. Her off-balanced shots managed wing the battle bot on one of its gun touretts, making it retreat to the ceiling to regroup.

{{Of all of the things for Bobby to wear to this practice session, why did he have to wear a speedo?!}} Cecilia's mind wondered momentarily. {{Keep it together, girl. You've seen men in less attire than--}}

"CECILIA!! LOOK OUT!!"

The battle bot had managed to pull into a dive, and it was heading straight toward Cecilia. The battle bot rammed straight into her bio-shielding. The resulting explosion through Cecilia off of her feet, and she skid across the Danger Room floor.She didn't get up.

"Scott!! End the simulation!!" Bobby shouted as he deiced himself, and ran toward Cecilia's unconscious form.

"Is she all right?!" Neophyte shouted from across the Danger Room as he and Scanner both found themselves running toward her unmoving form.

"I'm just fine." Cecilia managed to mutter through her red, flustered face. "I'm not hurt." She muttered. "Just my pride."

By that time, both Scott and Jean had managed to climb down from the from the Danger Room control both, and were running toward her. Cecilia had never been more embarrassed her life.Shaking off Neophyte's attempt to help her to her feet, she climbed to her feet.

"I think that's enough for right now." Scott said as he surveyed the group. "Everybody hit the showers except for Cecilia," He paused to turn to her. "I want to see you in the medic."

* * *

"Are you okay, Cecilia?" Jean asked as she shut the door to the medic closed behind her.

"I'm fine, Jean." Cecilia muttered as she as she hoisted herself up on the examining table. "I just...lost my concentration for moment." She glanced down at her booted feet, which hung there idly. She felt Jean's gaze burn into her back. "I'm okay, Jean." She reiterated, before she continued. "I just--"

"Saw him, and the whole world ceased to exist?" Jean smiled.

Cecilia stiffened, embarrassedly. She's known what had happened. She knew what thoughts had crept through her mind. "You were listening to my thoughts, weren't you?"

"Most of the time, I try not read other people's minds without their permission, Cecilia." Jean crossed the expanse of the medic, passing the unconscious form of Exodus as she did such. Storm was sleeping for the moment. "But you were broadcasting your thoughts so loudly that I couldn't help but pick them up." Jean smirked as she laid a hand upon Cecilia's shoulder. "Its nothing to be embarrassed about, Cecilia." She smiled, taking a moment to brush her red hair behind her shoulders. "There were times that I couldn't fall asleep at night because my thoughts were solely focused on Scott." [[See Uncanny X-Men #308 for this charming story.]]

"I'm a doctor, Jean." Cecilia glanced up at her fidgeting with her glasses. "I'm supposed to have more control than that." She sighed.

"Even doctors are sometimes struck by love, Cecilia." Jean patted her on the shoulder before she began to exit the room. "Maybe you should tell him how you feel." And with that said, Jean left Cecilia alone in the medic with the two sleeping patients.

* * *