Chapter 7 - Hindsight by Jean Grey

I was born an underweight, frail baby girl. My parents thought I might be sickly, and the doctors said I was fine, but suggested I be kept under watch. Who could have known what sort of woman I'd grow up to be? How could they have known? Even as a child, I cried more than most. Not to say that I'm a victim or that I was weak, but I just never saw the point in hiding my emotions or keeping me inside myself. I am me. Who else could I be?

My parents, John and Elaine, loved me. My sister loved me, too, possibly more than anyone. I remember the day I left for the Institute. It was summer, and the hot rays of the sun touched my skin with such warmth. It reminded me of my childhood and sitting in the park. Some kids liked chasing bugs or looking at flowers. I enjoyed the whole. I would close my eyes and feel connected to everything. And in those final moments before I became something else, before my life changed direction, my sister said: "If you use your powers for good--to save people, Jeanie, I will always love you no matter what."

A warmth existed in those years prior to meeting Scott and the professor. Not that things were depressing around them, but people mistake my childhood for something it was not because of the coma...

Are you familiar with auras? That is, to say, have you ever met someone and felt a vibe from them? Something so strong and so clear that you know what you're supposed to feel, but you don't know how or why? I'm sure you've been to a club, a bar or a party--that's usually how it happens--and meet a member of whatever gender you prefer (or maybe even one you usually don't), and find a need to want to learn more about that person. I get connections like these all the time. But for me it's not sexual.

It is intimate but not sexual.

I can know all of your desires and everything you could ever want to feel without it being about sex. For me, it's like that sunlight.Nine hundred and ninety-nine trillion, nine hundred and ninety-nine billion, nine hundred and ninety-nine million, nine hundred and ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine warm hands massaging every pore of your skin. That intense sensation flowing inside of you causes an equal sensation to emanate from you. And how good you feel transcends any limitations of social order. The energy is almost god-like. The heat.

My friend was hit by a car while we were riding bikes. I had felt so good on my bike and in the company of a trusted friend. I could pedal very quickly and then lift my feet and just glide. At the time, it's what I thought flying felt like. I guess I was both right and wrong, but in that moment I connected. I felt my friend's aura, I felt my own, and we connected on a mental level. And when my friend lay dying, so did I. And when my friend died, so did I.....I'm speaking figuratively of course. but there was no warmth. I was cold. So very cold.

But my parents wouldn't give up on me and they sought out to Charles to bring me back. He brought me back but at the cost of my ability to feel in that special way I described to you before. How arrogant he was to think that he could hide the way he felt about me by taking away my ability to know it. His eyes gave everything away, and while I respected him more than anyone in the world for his abilities, I knew that he, too, had darkness inside of him. Logan had a way of describing these sorts of things. If he knew, he would have said that Charles "wanted to fuck me!"

Logan said that there were three different instances of the act.

"Making love" is reserved for how I felt about Scott. We cared about each other, we had a deep connection, and we agreed to a social contract of limited and defined sexual and emotional discovery. "Sex" would be like what Remy would have with various girls whose names he would forget before the night ended. There were no rules and no obligations, but a certain level of respect and chivalry was to be maintained. He'd have to buy them drinks and keep them entertained to win his payoff at the end of the night. But "to be fucked" was something else entirely.

To be "fucked" was what Logan wanted to do to me. He said that it was about unleashing raw desire and emotion and exploring it in a physical way. No pretenses, no courtship, just two beings acting in only the most raw form of action. Out of necessity and safety, cultures formed. Society was something that cultures made. It made living easy. And then rules and actions were defined by society. All of these things that society has made, fight against the creatures--the animals--that we are. His philosophy was that our natural dispositions were to "fuck, fight, eat, shit, and sleep."

Once, out of curiosity I looked into his mind. He wanted to hold me down and take me from behind. The view of his penis sliding into me and how my ass looked, being pounded into (in his imagination), only made him harder. His visions had me calling out all of the things he wanted to hear. But it wasn't all for him, he imagined licking my clitoris and ...well...using his tongue like a penis and sticking it inside of me. He stuck his tongue in my ass and stimulated all of those nerve endings. I saw other images of him holding me upside down and sticking a...a..dildo inside of me. Alternating between my different holes. The images..they all began to blur together. At one point, before I had to telepathically run away from his mind, I saw him sitting in a chair smoking a cigar and drinking whiskey, while I was on my knees before him with his penis down my throat. Just before I left his mind, I could see that kneeling image of myself lift her head, gulp, take a deep breath and say only "Mmmm..thank you."

It was too much. It was intimate and sexual.

I thought it was strange that someone would imagine being so dirty or raunchy, but still have good intentions. To make me want to feel good. Scott would never "eat my ass", and I thought that was great. But those images sort of haunted me. Every time I caught Logan lusting after me or staring at me, I felt sort of dirty. Obviously, that would not do. So I spoke to him one day and told him that Scott was my only. That's when he explained the three instances of sexuality. Just because I understand the mind and how people think, and what they're thinking of, does not mean I am open to everything. Likewise, because I have my limitations does not make me a prude. But after that and after feeling--from his end--what he wanted to give to me, who would not think about being "fucked"?

But all of that pales in comparison to what I felt once I called out for help in the quiet, lonely, void of space and received a single answer......from The Phoenix Force.

-To Be Continued...

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