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Marvel, Siku is darqstar's, anyone else is mine. Ask first if you want to
borrow 'em. I'm not making any money off of this, so don't waste your time,
or mine, suing OK? You wouldn't get anything anyway, I'm flat broke.
  ~words~ depicts psychic talk
*words* denotes thinking to oneself

Revelations: Chapter 5

    Cyclops' guard was still up as he surveyed the scene around him. The battle was coming to an end. Thanks to the quick reactions of the X-Men and the NYPD, no civilians, other than Joshua Calvin, had been injured. After
firing his initial blast, which had knocked the gun from the FOH member's hand, Cyclops had fired another blast to the man's chest just strong enough to knock the man on the platform unconscious. Wolverine had quickly subdued the man in the suit before he had the chance to turn his gun on anyone. He had pinned the man to the ground, the claws on his right hand extended and just barely touching the man's throat, waiting for the man to give him an excuse to run them through the tender flesh. Wisely, the suited man laid still and quiet, glaring at Wolverine with an intense look of fear and hatred.
        To Wolverine's left, Gambit had control of the young black man. He held the frightened man's sweatshirt in one hand, and a charged playing card in the other. He held the card dangerously close to the young man's face.
Cyclops could see the rage in Gambit's face.
        *I should stop him before he seriously injures that young man.* Cyclops thought to himself, then changed his mind. *He wanted a chance to prove himself. Well, this is it.* Cyclops knew he was taking a chance by letting it continue, but he was willing to give the Cajun the benefit of the doubt. He was not disappointed as watched Gambit get control of his anger.
        Gambit let the energy flow back out of the card. He tossed it to the side where it fizzled harmlessly and disappeared. *You not worth it,* he thought to himself as he pulled back his fist. With all the strength he could muster, he hit the man in the jaw. He let go of the man's sweatshirt as he slid, unconscious, to the ground.
        Cyclops smiled. *He deserved that.* Cyclops then looked a few feet past Gambit, where Storm had managed to subdue the youngest looking FOH member, who had attacked her when she'd changed her clothes into her uniform. Cyclops was surprised to see a trickle of blood coming from the young man's nose. *Apparently Storm can also pack one helluva a punch when she needs to,* he chuckled to himself.
        The battle ended swiftly. The two officers stationed by the platform quickly got over their shock. The female officer handcuffed the man on the podium while the male officer walked hesitantly over to Wolverine, gun drawn. Wolverine flipped the man onto his stomach so the officer could cuff him. The young man still looked hesitant, the sight of Wolverine's claws obviously worrying him.
        "I ain't gonna hurt ya kid, just cuff this scumbag already," Wolverine said in as gentle a tone as his gruff voice voice could manage, while withdrawing his claws.
        The young cop hesitated a moment longer. *Hell, if he wanted to hurt me, I guess he would have done it, instead of withdrawing his claws. Kinda wish I had a set like that,* he thought to himself as he holstered his gun and cuffed the prisoner. *Certainly would make it easier to manage the wilder ones,* he thought, remebering a particually violent prisoner he'd arrested only two weeks ago. His hand unconsciously went to his jaw and he rubbed the fading bruise from where the man had punched him with his bear-like hands.
        Two more officers made their way through what was left of the crowd and arrested the men Gambit and Storm had subdued. The rest of the officers, who had been stationed to the rear of the crowd, also reacted quickly. They arrested the FOH members positioned throughout the crowd, and anyone else who tried to help the FOH.
        As he looked around, Cyclops noticed that the fifth man from the platform was nowhere around. He started to walk towards a group of people being interviewed by two police officers when he noticed the man walking
towards Joshua. The police had already took a brief statement from him and he was being helped to an ambulance by one of the people who'd been at the rally. The older man walked with his head hung shamefully to his chest. Cyclops stood still and watched silently, waiting to see what older man was up to.
 x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x  
        Joshua looked up as the trembling hand touched his shoulder. He was almost to the ambulance. His eyes flared with hatred as he recognized the man who touched him as one of the FOH members from the podium. His speech hadn't been as hateful as the other men's speeches. The man had seemed ... hesitant, unsure if he really believed his own words, but he was one of them nevertheless.
        "I know you ain't got no reason to listen to me or believe what I say," the man started hesitantly, his voice trembling almost as much as his hand, "but I'd like you to hear me out 'fore you go." The man said hoping, praying, Joshua would listen to him, his voice an odd combination of southern twang and a New York accent.
        "Talk." Joshua said, struggling to keep his anger in check.
        The man took a deep breath and began talking. "My name's Darrel Ray James. Two years ago I was approached by two members of the FOH doin' recruitin'. They told me all kinds of stories 'bout how evil and hurtful mutants are. And, well, with all the reports 'bout Apocalypse, and that Magneto fella, and them others, well I believed 'em. I just took them on their word without botherin' to find out the other side of the story." Darrel
paused for a second. Then began again.
        "I got a granddaughter, Kayla, about your little girls age. I've taken a real shine to that girl. I don't know what I'd do if anyone ever hurt her like what them fella's did to your daughter." He paused again, his voice
beginning to shake. He waited till he was sure his voice was steady and began again. "My son Danny, Kayla's daddy, is a judge in Brooklyn. He's been tellin' me some real nasty stories about these people. He told me how
ruthless they are and how they'd do anything to get rid of mutants. Got me ta thinkin'. Stubborn as I am though, I stayed with 'em. When I came to the rally today, I was really starting to doubt my decision to join 'em in the first place."
        "When you came up there and started tellin' everyone about your little girl, you made me realize that my son was right when he told me I should leave the FOH. He stopped coming 'round a year ago, even stopped me from seein' Kayla. Said he didn't want her growing up hatin' people she didn't even know, 'specially for somethin' that ain't even their fault.  I grew up in Georgia in the early forties, you'd think I'd have known such blind, pointless, hate when I'd seen it. Well, it came up and slapped me in the face, plain as day, and I let my fear over rule my better judgment.
    I just wanted you to know I had nothing to do with the attack on your daughter. I had no knowledge of it till today. I know that don't really make you feel no different about me. I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm real sorry 'bout what happened to your Sarah. I want to let you know that, because of what you said today, I'm quitting the FOH ... as of right now." Darrel took off his sweatshirt and pulled a lighter out of his jeans pocket, then lit the sweatshirt on fire. He let the garment burn for a few seconds, then dropped it in the garbage can he was standing by. He watched it burn a few seconds longer then turned and walked slowly away.
        Joshua stared in stunned silence as the sweatshirt burned. He looked to the man who was helping, who was also staring in stunned silence at the burning garment. He slipped his arm from around the man's shoulder and walked up behind Darrel. He raised his good arm and put his hand on the older man's shoulder.
        Darrel was surprised by the touch. He turned around and looked at Joshua. The two men stared at each other for a moment, neither man saying anything, needing only that look to convey their thoughts. They smiled, then turned away from each other. Darrel walked out of the park, his shoulders straight and his head held high.
        Joshua turned back to the man who was helping him. He looked past the man, and saw the stranger who'd saved his life standing about seventy feet from him. The man was smiling. Apparently he'd been watching what had just happened. He smiled at the man and mouthed the words "Thank you."
 x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x  
        Cyclops' smile widened as he realized Joshua had noticed him and mouthed a silent thank you. He nodded at the young man, and watched as the man nodded back, then walked to the waiting ambulance. Cyclops turned to see his teammates talking to the officers who'd cuffed Wolverine and Gambit's prisoners, and a third officer. Storm and Wolverine had their backs to him, the young male officer and another older looking male officer were taking their statements. Gambit was a few yards closer to him. The Cajun was facing him, his statement being taken by the female officer. Cyclops couldn't help but notice how uncomfortable the Cajun looked. He remembered once hearing Gambit say there where only two kinds of thieves who said they weren't nervous or uncomfortable around cops. Liars ... and fools.
 x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x   
        Gambit spoke quickly as he gave his statement to the officer. He knew the officer had seen what had happened, but it was police procedure to get a written statement from everyone who'd been involved, or had witnessed what had happened. He wished she would hurry up and let him go. Gambit had nothing against the woman personally, he just wasn't comfortable around cops. They weren't to hospitable towards people in his former profession. *Or my current one, non?* he thought to himself. He looked past the officer and noticed
Cyclops looking at him. He watched as Cyclops scanned the park, apparently looking for any signs that there might be more trouble.
        "Excuse me sir ... sir?" The young officer looked over her shoulder to the man Gambit was now watching. She knew, from what Gambit had told her, that the man was Cyclops, leader of the X-Men. She'd seen Gambit's eyes and therefore knew why he wore the shades, but she couldn't understand why Cyclops wore the visor over his eyes. *He's handsome.* she though to herself. *Probably has beautiful eyes too. *She pushed the errant thoughts from her mind and looked back at Gambit, who was still watching Cyclops. "Uhhh ... sir ...  Gambit ... what happened next?" She asked. *What the hell kind of name is Gambit anyway,* she thought to herself. She knew, judging by the names of his friends, that is was a code name, but she couldn't understand why he called himself that. At least the other people's name's made sense.
        The gruff looking one, Wolverine, resembeled the animal that he took his name from. Storm, who had such a sereneness about her, apparantly controlled the weather. She recalled the quick burst of thunder that rumbled
when the white-haired women had struck the man she'd captured. And the man wearing the visor, whom Gambit had identified as their leader, Cyclops, very much resembled the mythical creature of the same name.  
        Gambit heard the officer's question and was about to answer, when something on Cyclops' uniform caught his eye. There was a purplish colored dot that appeared to be dancing around on Cyclops' chest. Realization of what it was hit him like a ton of bricks. *Dat dot ain' purple, it's red!* He thought to himself. *A sniper. Someone's gonna try 'n kill Scott! Not if I c'n help it.* He took off in a dead run towards Cyclops, startling the
officer questioning him.
        "Hey, I'm not done with you yet." She shouted at Gambit.
        He heard her yell. He ignored her and kept running. "Cyclops, look out," he yelled. *Please let me get to 'im in time.* 
 x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x  
    Cyclops was reasonably sure that everything had calmed down. As he surveyed the park, he once again found his thoughts drifting to his wife. He wished she were there with him, but he took comfort simply in feeling her
presence in his mind. However, this was one mission they could have really used her on. If she had been there, she would have picked up on the angry, violent thoughts of the young man lurking in the woods.
 x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x  
        "Stupid goddamn mutie freak," a man whispered angrily to himself. He has been in the woods during the whole rally. He's been stationed there just in case they needed a sniper. He fumbled with the zipper on his pants, then picked up his rifle again. *Just my lousy luck Mother Nature decides to call just as that gene-joke freak blasts my brother. That's a big mistake on your part one-eye, and I'm gonna make you pay for it.* The man aimed his rifle at his target, not seeing the other man running towards his target, and pulled the trigger.
 x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x 
        Cyclops quickly looked back towards Gambit as he heard the younger X-Man call his name. He was surprised to see Gambit running towards him. "Gambit, what the ... " Cyclops didn't get the chance to finish his question as he heard the gunshots, then he was falling to the ground. He grunted as he hit his head on a large rock. Hard. Cyclops fought the darkness that threatened to engulf him. He opened his eyes. He was laying on the ground, Gambit was on his side deathly still in front of him. Cyclops gently rolled him onto his back. The Cajun's eyes were closed and his breathing was shallow.
        "Gambit ...?" Cyclops removed Gambit's glasses, his eyes were shut. *What happened?* He asked himself, looking worriedly at Gambit, who laid deathly still. He put Gambit's glasses back on him. Then he saw the growing red spots on Gambit's uniform. *Those were gunshots.* He thought to himself, as his mind cleared somewhat. One red spot on his right shoulder, the other on his chest, dangerously close to his heart. *Someone just tried to kill me. Gambit saved my life!* Cyclops got to his knees and picked up the wounded Cajun with great effort, then shakily got to his feet, Gambit laying limp in his arms. 
        Storm and Wolverine immediately ran to their fallen friends' sides. The two officers who'd been taking their statements ran into the woods in the direction they believed the shots had come from. "Gambit's been shot,"
Cyclops told them, struggling to keep the blackness from engulfing him as his friends ran up to them. "To the Blackbird, now."
        They all ran towards the Blackbird, Cyclops a few steps behind, struggling with Gambit's weight and the dizzying pain in his head. Any other time Cyclops would likely have been at the head of the group.
        Wolverine noticed Cyclops lagging and slowed his pace to allow him to catch up. He thought he smelled Cyclops' blood as well as Gambit's, but he couldn't be sure. *Cyke's hurt too. I know it," Wolverine thought to himself. *Damn Cajun's bleeding so much I can't tell if the blood's his alone, or if Cyke was shot too.* Cyclops' uniform was covered with Gambit's blood. "Let me take him Cyke."
        "No. You run ahead and prep the medi-slab," he told Wolverine. He knew Storm would prep the jet for take off.
        Wolverine hesitated a second, debating whether he should listen to his gut which was telling him that Cyclops wasn't as fine as he claimed to be, or doing as he was told. *Can't be hurt too bad if he can carry Gumbo and run like he is.* So he ran ahead to the Blackbird.
        Cyclops entered the jet a minute after Wolverine. He placed Gambit on the medi-slab as Wolverine finished preparing it and went into the cockpit where Storm already had the engines running. He put his hand on her shoulder giving it a light squeeze. "Go help Wolverine with Gambit." He told her. She usually copiloted, but she was concerned for her friend. If she had paid more attention, she might have heard the pain in Cyclops' voice, barely evident as it was. She might also have noticed the dark spot on the back of Cyclops' head. Then she would have insisted on flying the jet herself while he rested. But she was so caught up in her concern for Gambit, she didn't notice.
        "He'll be OK." Scott reasurred her.
        Storm took Cyclops' hand in hers, returned his gentle squeeze with a thankful smile, and left the cockpit.
        Cyclops turned on the radio and contacted the mansion as the Blackbird took off. "Jean, are the others back yet? Was Hank with them?" He asked. He'd deliberately used the radio instead of their rapport, to keep her from sensing his pain.
        "Yes. They just arrived a few minutes ago. What's going on ?" She asked. She had the television turned on and was watching the news while waiting for the team to return. "Every news station is running reports that a riot broke out at the rally, but was quickly controlled by the police and the X-Men. Then, a few minutes later shots were heard. The police went into the woods in the direction of the shots, then the X-Men disappeared." She said, telling Scott what she'd seen and heard from the reports. The reporters had turned their cameras to follow the police, missing the X-Men's retreat. She paused for a second, puzzled by her husbands silence and wondered why he was using the radio rather than their rapport. "Are you OK, Scott? Were you hurt?"
        "No," he lied "I'm fine. Gambit has been shot. It looks pretty bad." He quickly told her what had happened. "Have Hank get the medi-lab ready. We'll be there in two minutes," he said. He shook his head slightly, trying to clear the dizziness, and instantly regretted it as a wave of pain thundered through his head. He winced at the pain.
        Jean gasped as she heard Cyclops' news. "All right, I'll tell him." Then she heard Scott's wince over the radio. "You are hurt," she accused. "Ororo or Logan should be flying the Blackbird." Her voice was a mix of
anger, concern, and fear.
        "No." He said, his voice much harsher then he'd intended. He softened his voice as he spoke again. "I'm fine Jean ... really. Gambit is the one in danger here. We're landing now." He abruptly cut off the radio as he finished talking. Cyclops landed the Blackbird, powering it down as he pulled into the hanger bay. He let out a heavy sigh as he got up and retrieved Gambit, carrying the injured X-Man off the jet.
        Jean was surprised and a little hurt by her husband's abruptly ending the conversation. He was hurt, she was sure of it now. As much as he tried to shield it from her, she could feel it. ~You are quite possibly the most stubborn man I have ever met, Scott Summers,~ she scolded him. She sighed as she got only a slight chuckle in response.
        ~Hank, prepare the medi-lab.~ She told Hank. ~The others are back, and Gambit has been shot. Scott said it looks pretty bad, ~ she quickly filled him in on what Scott had told her.
        Hank, who was already in the medi-lab, acknowledged her. He sighed, said a silent prayer for Gambit, then set about getting everything he'd need.
        Jean headed for the hanger bay, arriving just as the Blackbird touched down. Logan came out first, a grim look on his face. Then Ororo came down  the ramp, silent tears staining her cheeks. She was followed closely by
Scott, who'd once again insisted on carrying Gambit. She gasped as she saw the young Cajun laying limp in her husbands arms, eyes shut. His armor was covered in blood and his face was pale. Cyclops' face was also a little pale, his mouth was drawn into a tight line, face grim. His own uniform was soaked with Gambit's blood. He walked quickly as he headed for the medi-lab; Jean, Ororo, and Logan beside him.
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        Cyclops gently laid Gambit down on the bed.
        "You'll have to wait in the waiting room with the others, Scott," Hank said. When Scott didn't move Hank spoke again. "There's nothing more you can do here." He gently laid a hand on Scott's shoulder. Then he noticed that Scott also looked pale. "You don't look so hot yourself, my friend. Go sit in the waiting room with the others and relax. I want to see you when I'm done with Remy." Hank was worried about Scott. *He has a concussion, I'm sure of it, but there is nothing I can do for him now. Remy's condition is much worse
than his is.*
        "Yeah, OK," Scott said. He wanted to stay, but his headache was getting worse, and his vision was beginning to cloud again. He knew he had to either sit down, or lean against something or he'd pass out. When he was younger, Scott had earned a black belt in Judo. As the number of missions and the size of the team increased, his life got more hectic and he'd slowly drifted away from Judo. As his vision grew even fuzzier, he closed his eyes and concentrated on remembering the breathing techniques he'd learned. He slowly breathed in and out, as he'd been taught, willing the pain and dizziness away. He opened his eyes, took one last look at Gambit, who now had Hank's full attention, and walked into the waiting room.

xxxx One hour later xxxx
    Hank walked into the waiting room rubbing the back of his neck. He looked into the worried faces of his friends. He looked at Rogue, the sassy young southerner who loved Remy more than she cared to admit, but could never show it. Storm was there, who loved him like a brother. Also there was Logan, who shared the younger man's affections for beer, cigarettes and late nights out. Then there was Jean, who over the years had become a somewhat reluctant den mother to everyone, and a friend of Gambit. Finally, there was Scott, who had never completely trusted Gambit (and made no secret of the fact), but had nevertheless accepted Gambit as a member of the team, and his family.      
        Everyone stood as Hank entered the waiting room. "Remy will be fine. One of the bullets hit his right shoulder causing some nerve damage, but it's nothing a little time and some rehab won't heal." Hank added the last part quickly as he saw the worried look on Rogue's face. "It appears our Cajun friend's charm powers work on bullets as well as people." He continued, only half joking. "The other bullet struck him in the chest, narrowly missing his heart and all major veins. Luckily for him, it did no major damage to the surrounding tissue." Then his voice somber. "Even one more centimeter to the right, however, and we'd be looking at a completely different picture," he told them, letting his tone say what his words implied.
        "C'n Ah see him, Hank?" Rogue asked.
        "He's still unconscious, but I know he'd like to see you when he wakes up."
        Rogue nodded and walked into the medi-lab. Everyone was so relieved to hear that Remy would recover, that no one noticed Scott slowly, shakily sit back down on the small sofa he and Jean had been sharing. He leaned forward, resting his head in his hands, and closed his eyes.
        Hank looked over to Scott as Rogue went in to be with Remy. *My stars. He looks much paler then he did before.* Hank thought to himself. "Scott, could I see you in the medi-lab for a moment, please," he asked Scott calmly, not wishing to alarm the others. Scott opened his eyes, just barely visible behind his ruby quartz glasses, and looked at Hank. *His pupils are dilated as well. I fear his concussion may be worse than I originally thought.*
        Scott got unsteadily to his feet, took a shaky step, and pitched forward. Jean reacted quickly, catching her husband with her telekinesis before Scott could hit the ground.
        "Scott!" The others all gasped in shock.
        Hank picked up the unconscious Scott and cradled him in his arms like an infant. "He has a concussion," he told the others, then quickly turned and walked into the medi-lab, a very worried Jean close behind him.
        Ten minutes later Hank went back into the waiting room. Warren, Betsy, and Bobby, who'd gone out for a drink upon returning to the mansion, had returned and where now waiting with Logan and Ororo. The five friends looked at Hank, faces etched with worry.
        "Logan and 'Ro filled us in." Warren said. "How's Scotty?"
        "He has a very serious concussion, and he's lost some blood. He'll have a monster of a headache when he wakes up, and will need to stay in bed for a few days, but he will be fine."
        "Can we go in?" Bobby asked.
        "They're both sleeping now, but as long as you are all quiet, I see no problem with that. It will have to be a short visit for now."
        They all nodded and followed Hank in to the medi-lab, thankful their friends would be all right.
 x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x
        Scott opened his eyes slowly, and immediately shut them against the blinding light.
        "Scott? Scott, ... honey can you hear me? Hank, I think he's waking up."
        "It's about time," Hank said from behind his desk. He got up, stretched, and walked over to Scott's bed. "Come on, Scotty. Time to rejoin the land of the living."
        The voices sounded distant to Scott as he slowly reopened his eyes, blinking rapidly to bring the blurry faces into focus. "Hiya, beautiful," he said weakly, looking into Jean's worried eyes.
        "Hi yourself, handsome," she said back, letting her relief flood through her rapport with Scott.
        "Ya had us worried for a while there, sugah," Rogue said as she walked from Remy's bed to Scott's.
        "Quite worried, my friend," Hank said. "You see, when someone has a concussion the general consensus is that the person should be kept awake for a period of no less twenty four hours immediately following the injury to make sure their are no ill effects. You, however, lost consciousness and stubbornly refused to wake up." Hank said, only half teasing. His voice then grew series. "How do you feel?" He asked.
        "Like a thousand little men are trying to jackhammer their way out of my skull," he said, managing weak smile. He turned his head and looked over at Gambit. "How is ... arghh ... oww," Scott started to say, then moaned as he attempted to sit up, instantly regretting the decision as a wave of pain crashed through his head.
        "Take it easy, Scott. Your concussion is pretty serious," Jean said as she and Hank gently forced him to lay back down.
        "If you should attempt to rise again, I shall be forced to tie you to this bed," Hank warned Scott with a toothy grin, as Scott attempted to get up again. "Now lie still."
        Scott smiled at him and did as he was told. "How is he," he asked pointing to the still unconscious Remy.
        "He's gonna be fine, sugah," Rogue answered. "What exactly happened out there?" Jean had filled her in with as much as she knew.
        "That's a good question," Xavier said as he entered the medi-lab. The rest of the team followed behind him, Bobby still trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes. Xavier had called a few hours ago, and upon hearing of Remy and Scott's condition, quickly returned home. Storm had filled him in over the phone on what had happened up until the time the shots where fired. They had all waited anxiously for Jean to telepathically alert them when either Scott or Remy had awakened.
        Scott gave them a brief summary of the rally, then told them about Joshua and how he'd witnessed what had happened between the FOH member and Joshua. He then explained how Gambit had yelled out his name and leapt at him. He then told of hitting his head on the rock, and turning Gambit over to see the two wounds on his chest. "I carried him to the Blackbird and we came home," he finished. He paused for a moment, looking at each of his teammates. He looked at Rogue, Warren, and Bobby who all stood together, then spoke again. "He saved my life."
        Everyone was quiet as they let Scott's last sentence sink in. They all felt guilty, some much more then others, about ever doubting Gambit's loyalty to the team, and of how they'd treated him the last eight months.
        "All right everyone, Scott needs his rest," Hank told them as he noticed Scott attempt, unsuccessfully, to stifle a yawn. They all nodded and said goodnight. All except Rogue, who returned to Remy's side, and Jean, who remained by Scott.
        Scott stifled another yawn and looked at Jean. "You should go too, hun," Scott told her. "You look exhausted. How long was I out?"
        "Almost fifteen hours. You took quite a blow to the head when you hit that rock. Of course, it didn't help that you then carried Remy to the jet, flew it home, and then waited up for Hank to tell us how he was." She looked at him sternly. "I'm staying here with you. I'm not that tired."
        Scott looked at her sheepishly, then put his hand on her still flat (but not for long) stomach. "The baby agrees with me you know."
        "Oh really?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.
        "Yeah, really."
        "And how do you know that?" She asked in amusement.
        "Father's intuition," he answers with a smile. "Seriously Jean, I'm fine. Please, go get some rest," he told her. He saw the dark circles under her eyes and knew she had been awake the whole time.
        Jean smiled at him, then gently kissed his forehead. "Okay. You're right. I guess I could use a short nap. I'll come back as soon as I wake up." She kissed him again, said goodnight to Rogue and Hank, and left.
        Scott smiled as he watched her leave. He knew it was likely she wouldn't be back before morning, and let sleep claim him once again.

end chapter 5 

Notes: When possible, it is general practice to keep a person with a concussion awake for a while. I'm not sure how long a person should be kept awake, my brother had a concussion a few years back. My Dad said he thinks the doctor told my him and my Mom to keep my brother awake for twenty four hours. Here are a few facts that I found on a webpage.
      DEFINITION--A violent jar or shock to the brain that causes an immediate change in brain function, including possible loss of consciousness.
      MILD CONCUSSION: .Temporary loss of consciousness. .Memory loss (amnesia) .Emotional instability.
      SEVERE CONCUSSION: .Prolonged unconsciousness. .Dilated pupils. .Change in breathing. .Disturbed vision. .Disturbed equilibrium. .Memory loss.
      Check out this site, http://www.thriveonline.com/health/Library/sports/sport263.html for more info.


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