Fic: The Saint's Eyes 2/?
- Title/Part: The Saint's Eyes 2/?
Author: Shana Nolan
Genre: drama, angst
Archive: myself, Misty's, X-Grrls, XMMFF, Diebin's fic closet, others ask
Spoilers: the movie (but I'm a comics grrl too). I'm also assuming J/S are
engaged, not married, at this point.
Summary: A "blind" girl is taken in by our heroes.
Disclaimers: Fox and Marvel Entertainment Group have the X-Men and their
movie. Stan Lee, I worship at your feet. I don't own anyone and I don't
intend to sell this. no money, no sue, no powers. but my CB handle was
Phoenix (great, date yourself, why don't you).
Comments: are welcome. Flames, however, are only accepted from a mutant
named Pyro and even he knows better.
Before I left school, I had this friend that told me about the Saints. They
taught us about them in the Catholic school, but he always said they left
the really good parts out of it, and would fill me in during lunch or
sometimes after school as we walked home. He was really into it, got these
really big books at the antique stores and poured through them every chance
he had. I saw the shelf of them once. They were all lined up by size, the
biggest one at the end his prize. That book contained illustrated plates.
He was really proud of that book, and his parents wouldn't take it away
because "it was better than him having pornography."
He told me once about the saint with my name, Lucy. How she was martyred
as a virgin, even though she was branded a whore. They burned her alive,
ran her through with a sword. I can't imagine what that'd be like, other
than hurting a whole lot. Sometimes I wonder how long she could see her own
blood, how long she could see the flames burn up her clothes, all before she
passed out from the pain. I wonder how long she endured. I wonder if I can
endure that long.
He also said Diocletian cut out her eyes. I guess that's why she's a patron
saint for the blind.
Maybe that's why I have her name. Someone whispered to my mama when she was
having me; something about what would happen... so she gave me the name of a
girl who burned alive with a sword through her and no eyes.
Tells you a lot about my life, I guess.
"Are you comfortable back there?"
Ignoring the concerned voice of the woman doctor, Lucy curled tighter under
her blue and black diamond comforter, trying to rest her head against the
vibrating armrest of the passenger door. They had been in the car for
twenty minutes, long enough, by her memory of the streets, to be nearly out
of town. "Fine."
"Are you hungry?"
The man, his voice sounding a little stressed, sighed. "Well, if these
directions are right, we should be to the inn in a few minutes. We could
order room service if you want."
Lucy nodded a little. It was better than her mother's food, anyways "Which
Jean looked up from the internet printed street map, casting a quick glance
back to their new ward. The girl was very internalised, her mental walls
impressive. "The Blue Lobster."
The girl laughed.
"What's so funny?"
"My uncle used to work there. He always said if you had money to burn, go
Jean and Scott exchanged looks. "Well," he started, braking at the
four-way stop sign, "you can order whatever you like."
"Okay," she murmured, shifting under the comforter. She was so tired, all
she wanted to do was sleep for a few hours, and maybe take a bath.
Jean nodded and rested back in the passenger's seat, clearing her thoughts.
When she had gone into the girl's room, the decor painfully reminiscent of
early teens rather than the blossoming young woman in the backseat, her
heart had gone out to Lucy McNeil. Curled up in her bed much like she was
now, she was pale and thin, her black hair sloppily braided, her clothes
loose and worn for comfort. Her body was trying to grow, but there was a
way the girl held herself, all those trips to the hospital taking their toll
on her adulthood, her sightless green eyes mirroring the misery she had
willingly endured for too long.
She had refused to touch Jean when she offered a hand, instead stepping
carefully out of the bed and padding gingerly over to the white and pink
dresser, responding to the "get packed" request with a stumbling grasp for
an Adidas duffel bag and stuffing clothes she picked by touch. She had done
all this alone, not saying a word to the doctor that had come for her,
grabbing her comforter and stuffed rabbit as an afterthought, clutching the
toy animal like a life raft, the ragged ears evidence of years of worrying.
"Lucy, do you need us to get you anything?"
"No," was the murmured response from under the comforter.
Jean shook her head and closed her eyes, listening absently to the car's
engine. This wasn't the first time she had dealt with a difficult teen, but
those experiences didn't make it any easier. Stretching her toes in the
pumps, she missed when Scott noticed her posture.
"Nothing a warm bed and one of your shoulder rubs couldn't cure."
He smiled. "I could arrange that."
"Mm, good. I think I'll order a cheesecake when we get to the room."
"Whatever you like, dear."
Two heads turned to regard the head now peeking out from underneath the
black and blue cover. "Yes. Would you like some too?"
There was a pause before Lucy nodded, the sour expression on her face
breaking up with a flash of youthful exuberance. "Yes, please, Miss Grey."
"Call me Jean."
"Jean," she murmured, letting the sound roll over her tongue. No adult had
ever given her permission to call them by a first name before. Maybe these
two were different... "What's his name?"
Jean suppressed the giggle, the mirth affecting her voice. "Scott."
"Can I call him that?"
"Yes," Scott responded himself, giving into the warm smile worming its way
onto his face.
Under the comforter, Lucy blinked at the darkness that made up her world.
For the first time someone besides her brother was treating her with
It was a nice feeling. It almost made the darkness bearable.
Signing the bill the young man handed him after rolling the food laden cart
in, Scott winced. Lucy was right. The bed and breakfast, although
beautiful and very well set up for its guest's comforts, was costing them a
The blonde boy nodded, his eyes widening at the generous tip he had just
received. "Thank you sir. If there's anything you need, just ring the
Scott cleared his throat and nodded. "Of course."
Closing the door behind him, he shook his head and watched as Jean was
checking the trays, handing a small plate with some pasta on it to Lucy, the
girl perched at the end of a bed. Nearly touching the girl's hand as she
handed over a fork, Jean caught the poorly restrained flinch. Studying the
girl, the doctor inside her kicked in, concern darkening her stare.
Shifting a foot, he looked down at the floor.
Jean's eyes slid up to catch Scott watching them, the frown on his face
He froze suddenly, a little embarrassed. "Sorry, was I projecting again?"
Crossing the room and flicking her wrist, the deadbolt on the door latching
a second later, Jean nodded, her voice low. "Yes, you were; I'm worried
too. I'm going to get showered and changed while she eats. I'd like her to
consent to an examination but she's so..."
"Amongst other things. Scott, watch her for me? She probably won't let you
help her, but don't let her injure herself, okay?"
The pleading in her voice was enough to make him agree to almost anything.
She always did that to him. "She doesn't have a cane?"
"I didn't see one."
"Hmm. Alright then." Sliding a palm along her cheek and kissing her
lightly, he smiled and stepped back, releasing the tender grip. True, they
were away from the school and the responsibilities they bore there, but now
he felt even more constrained to behave, their newly found student still
unfamiliar with them, or anything they would be showing her in the next few
days. But still...
"Can I get you anything, Lucy?"
Setting the fork down and licking her lips thoughtfully, she turned her head
in his general direction. "A napkin?"
He smiled, grateful for something to distract his meandering thoughts.
"Sure, coming right up."
"Mr. Sum-- Scott?"
Circling the bed, pulling a few napkins from the cart, he held them out in a
hand near her hands. "Yes?"
"I heard my dad say something about your eyes... ?"
Scott shifted, wondering how best to broach the subject. This girl didn't
know about mutants, not like he did, and the information would still be
alien at this point, even frightening for her. "I can see, it's just... I
have to wear special glasses or I can seriously hurt people."
"But you can see?"
"Only with the glasses on. Oh, I'm sorry, the napkins are next to your left
She blinked and shifted her head, reaching tentative fingers toward him.
Brushing a thumb over the rough fabric, she pushed her hand farther along,
hesitating initially when she felt his warm skin. Not yet. She wouldn't be
able to see though him yet, it took a few...
Sightless eyes widening, Lucy leapt back on the bed, scrambling for the
headboard, the plate crashing to the floor and shattering.
Scott froze, dumbfounded. "Lucy?"
"You-- you-- I can't see though you... why?! All I see is the great red
All his skills as a leader, all his experience, failed him. Standing in
place, helpless, he held out his hands. "Lucy... I'm not going to hurt
"No... it won't end... it..." Curling tight into a ball, she bumped her
back against the headboard, letting out a little shriek.
His instincts were screaming at him to reach out and touch her, calm her,
soothe her, but every step he took sent her skittering back more. "Lucy,
it's okay, nothing's wrong."
Reaching hands out for something solid, she found the edge of the bed,
pulling herself into a tight coil near the edge. "No, no! Don't touch me!
Scott clenched his fists, helpless. He could hear the water in the bathroom
suddenly shut off, Jean clearly now aware that something had gone wrong.
Now if only she could do what he apparently couldn't.
Slipping past the frustrated form of her fiancé, Jean paused less than a
metre away from the huddled, crying form on the bed. Dropping to her knees,
ignoring the water dripping down the shirt that she had hastily pulled on in
the bathroom, she extended her hands out gingerly, opening her senses,
trying to get past the walls the mental walls the girl had erected around
"Lucy? Lucy, can you hear me? I just want to see if you're okay... Lucy?
If you can hear me, nod."
There was a quick shake of the girl's head in between sobs.
Jean swallowed. This was what she was afraid of. "Now, Lucy, I need you to
take a deep breath and tell me what happened. Are you in pain? Did
something hurt you?"
"No. Eyes... can see... "
"Can see what?"
"Red, neverending red... so bright... "
Scott coughed behind them. Turning around to regard him, Jean watched him
tap his glasses. "She was asking about this, and then she touched my hand."
She chewed her lip, the surface thoughts of the girl turbulent and confused.
"Lucy, has this ever happened before?"
Lucy took a ragged breath, "Yes."
Uncurling a little, the teenager raised her head, trying to get a better
idea of where Jean was. "I--I touch people and I can see through them. See
what they see. He said he can see, but there's nothing but red... I
don't... I want it to go away..."
Inching forward, Jean set her hands on the girl's shoulders, pulling her
upright a little more. "Relax. I want you to take a deep breath and hold
it as long as you can, exhaling it just as slowly. Now, when you touch
someone, does it go away eventually, seeing through them?"
Lucy nodded, fresh tears trailing down her cheeks.
"Then I want to breathe deep and slowly until the red goes away. There are
pillows right next to you, roll over a little bit and lay back... okay?"
She nodded again, grateful that the doctor hadn't touched her skin.
"And then I'll get your comforter so you can keep warm. I'm not leaving the
room, so if you need me, just call."
Standing up with a sigh, easing her hands off the girl's thin shoulders,
Jean paused to regard the worried face following her every move. Shrugging
a little, she touched his chest, her fingers idly homing in on an area where
she could feel his heartbeat. "It'll work out. It always does."
Scott frowned, not entirely convinced.
"And once she's settled in, you own me a shoulder rub."
The smile slipped across her lips as she pulled the comforter over the
teenager's body, brushing away a stray lock of black from her forehead
without thinking. "Of course."
TBC in part 3
"'There are three rules in life. One, there's always a victim. Two, don't
'I forgot three.'" Max and Tom, 8MM