Rebel Red

"I understand perfectly. Unlike you, I'm going to be there for him." Jean clicked the phone off, and yet couldn't help feeling guilty considering how she'd treated him when he wasn't related, simply because she didn't see past the foster kid and juvenile delinquent labeling. She walked in, watching the hospital staff continue to argue with the police regarding the fact they'd insisted Lance remained handcuffed to the bed.

After all, they argued, he was an at-risk teen.

For some reason, that didn't make it seem right.

Jean stepped into the room, finding Scott sitting in a chair with his arms crossed, his mouth twisted into a slight frown. She'd still not told her boyfriend what she'd discovered. "Something the matter?"

"I think you should leave Lance alone."

"Why?"

Scott looked her in the eye. "Don't you think you've done enough damage?"

"Exactly what is that supposed to mean Scott?"

"He wouldn't have had the seizure he did if you hadn't used your powers the way you did. I doubt sleeping it off for a few days is going to make him forget."

"It's not as if any of us knew about his medical condition Scott." She didn't know what scared her more – the idea that someone buried Lance alive as a child, or that Lance's suffered from seizures for some reason the hospital staff had yet to identify. Of course, she said nothing about him being buried alive, as there was no reason she should know something like that.

"You also got the police involved, and they..."

A groan from the hospital bed made Scott stop speaking, and both turned to look at Lance. The teen started sitting up, only to flinch upon seeing his arm handcuffed to the bed. "What the hell? Why am I..."

"The police consider you a flight risk." Scott piped up.

"Why the hell am I in the hospital, and why the hell are the police involved!"

Jean opened her mouth. "You had a pretty bad seizure and have been out for a few days. The police also ran a DNA and fingerprint test."

Lance's face paled. "Exactly what crime are they charging me with!" Her mouth twisted into a grimace, having not expected that response. "What crime? Because despite all my juvenile behavior, I've not done anything outside of what he had us do!"

"Calm down." Scott took a deep breath.

"Calm down! You want me to calm down!"

"Euan..." Jean tried communicating with him telepathically.

Lance's eyes narrowed, his breath tightening. "Wait a second. I remember. You were in my head. What did you see?"

"I know you were buried alive as a child." Jean paid no attention to the shocked look on Scott's face. "I also know you're my half-sibling."

His anger grew. "Get out! Get out of my room! Get out of my head Jeanie!"

Jean opened her mouth to protest, but Scott pulled her out of the room. He shook his head. Over her shoulder, she heard the police officer say, "see. The kid is hostile."

...

Jean shivered, looking up at the starless night sky above her. Scott wasn't in a good mood, yet he didn't argue for her to leave the place. He simply leaned up against the wall, stewing over what happened. "I have to talk to him."

"And what good is that going to do? I'm not sure why you're so worked up over this?"

"Because it's Lance?"