Fear the Rest
Epilogue: Enemies
Jean rifled through her briefcase nervously, checking for the hundredth time to make sure all her notes were still there. She could feel Scott watching her; he was being uncharacteristically quiet. She glanced up at him. "Think I look all right?"
"You look fine," Scott said. "You know, you don't have to do this."
"I think I do." She forced herself to smile. "Anyway, how many chances do you get to testify in front of the Senate?"
"I hope it only takes one," Scott said.
"You think that's likely?"
"Nope."
"Neither do I," Jean said. "Even if we can kill this bill now, they're going to keep bringing it up."
"So ..."
She turned up her hands. "So I'd better get used to it."
Scott smiled, and then frowned. "It's very public."
"I know," Jean said. "If there's anyone in the medical community who doesn't know I'm a mutant, they'll know by the end of the day."
"You're cool with that?"
"You know Charles can't afford to do it. It wouldn't be safe for the kids--"
"I get it," Scott said. "That doesn't mean I always like it, but I get it. I just hate having you be the one who's out there in front of the cameras."
"I'm the one who can be." She shut the briefcase firmly. "It's not all about beating up bad guys."
Scott smiled crookedly. "Beating up bad guys is easier."
"Less scary, too," Jean said, smiling herself. "But this is more important." She looked up as Charles came into the room. He looked perfectly calm; she wished she knew how he managed it.
"Years of practice," Charles said. "Are you ready?"
"As ready as I'm going to be."
"I'll go get the car," Scott said.
Jean waited until she couldn't hear his footsteps anymore before she turned to Charles. "Are you going to tell me I don't have to do this?"
Charles raised an eyebrow at her. "Would that be particularly productive?"
"No, not particularly," she said.
"We all have our roles to play," he said. "I wish I could take your place, but that doesn't make it practical."
"I know."
"It's not as if --" Charles began, and then hesitated. Jean caught a brief flash of his mental image of himself and Erik standing up in front of rows of faceless men in old-fashioned suits, flash bulbs popping. The two of them finally telling the truth to the world, and never having to hide anything again.
"I should make sure I have all my notes," she said, turning quickly back to her briefcase.
"It's not as if I'd do any better job than you will," Charles said. Maybe that was even what he'd meant to say to begin with.
"I'll do my best," Jean said. "I wish Dr. Lehnsherr were here, too." She didn't quite dare look up at him.
"Erik wouldn't go through with this," Charles said. "He's decided that it's easier to hurt people than it is to ask them to believe that you're right. And less frightening."
"It probably is easier," Jean said. "It just doesn't do any good."
"I know," Charles said. "Believe me, I know."
*****
Raven leaned in for a quick kiss and Erik obliged her, although he had never particularly wanted to kiss Henry Gyrich. "Wish me luck," she murmured, her eyes going gold in Gyrich's face.
"You know there's no point to these hearings," Erik said. "They've already made up their minds."
"Not all of them, Erik."
"All of them," Erik said. "They're all alike."
"You don't have to come."
"Yes, I do."
"No one will be paying any attention to me, Erik. And it's not as though you can do anything to help from the gallery. All this does is introduce a chance for you to screw everything up by getting arrested."
"Humor me."
"Why not? You'll do whatever you like anyway."
"Raven," Erik said.
She sighed. "Which is not a change." She kissed him again, her lips warm against the corner of his mouth, and then pulled away. "I have to get back. Kelly can't cope without me."
"I'm not surprised," Erik said.
He drove into the city in a nondescript stolen car and left it blocks away from the Senate building, striding through the crowds of humans without giving any of them a second glance. It felt strange to dress and act like one of them, as though he belonged here.
He found a place where he could see through the crowds but not easily be seen and attempted to ignore the absurd testimony of a doctor who clearly knew nothing about mutation beyond what he read in Reader's Digest. He caught a glimpse of Gyrich assembling Kelly's notes, but didn't try to get a better look; he trusted her, and staring at her wouldn't help her stay in character.
It was hard to drone out the nonsense from the floor, and he was almost at the point of walking out when they finally called Dr. Jean Grey to the floor. He watched her take the stand, hoping he was well enough hidden by the crowd. She smiled out at the people who hated her and began telling them about genetics.
He wasn't surprised when it didn't do any good. He hadn't expected it to. He wasn't even sure why he'd bothered to watch; he supposed it was some useless remnant of an old affection for hopeless causes, or for her.
As he turned away from the railing, he saw her look up, as if searching the crowd for someone. Charles must be here, hidden away in his own corner, silently telling her that she'd done well, and that everything would be all right. As if any of this had done any good.
He was out in the hall when he felt the familiar presence behind him and stopped short, not sure he could stand to turn.
"Erik," Charles said. "What are you doing here?"
He shouldn't have had to ask.