Jean was sitting in the bedroom she shared with her husband Cyclops, aka Scott Summers. The soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated the room with a warm amber hue as she gently rocked her newborn son Nathan in her arms. Outside, fat raindrops streaked down the windowpane, catching the light from the lamp and creating small prisms of color on the wooden floor. The faint scent of baby powder mixed with Jean's lavender perfume filled the air, creating a soothing atmosphere despite the storm raging outside.

A sudden flash of lightning momentarily turned night into day, casting long shadows that stretched across the walls before retreating into darkness. Jean startled slightly at the accompanying thunder that rumbled like distant cannons, but quickly composed herself, pressing a soft kiss to Nathan's forehead. The baby stirred briefly at the noise, his tiny fists clenching and unclenching before relaxing again into sleep. The storm seemed to intensify with each passing minute, the wind howling through the trees outside.

Scott, her husband, was in Hank's lab with Bishop, who was having his time-travel bracelet repaired. Their voices occasionally drifted down the hallway, muffled by the closed door and the drumming rain. Jean could barely make out fragments of their conversation, but didn't pay it much mind - her focus was entirely on the precious bundle in her arms. The weight of Nathan's small body against her chest was a comforting pressure, his warm breath tickling her collarbone as he slept.

She sighed in relief when Nathan finally drifted into a deep sleep, his breathing becoming slow and regular. Carefully, she stood up to place him in his nearby crib, moving with the deliberate slowness of a woman who had spent weeks mastering the art of placing sleeping infants down without waking them. Just as she was about to pull the blanket up around his tiny shoulders, the bedroom door creaked open, and she turned to see her twin sister standing in the doorway, her silhouette framed by the dim hallway light.

"Sister?" Jean whispered, not wanting to wake Nathan. Raindrops glistened in her sister's dark hair, and her coat dripped small puddles onto the hardwood floor. "Can't sleep because of the weather either?"

Her sister - Wolverine's wife - stood silently for a moment, one hand protectively resting on her swollen belly. The pregnancy was far along, and Jean could see the fatigue evident in her sister's eyes despite the determined set of her jaw. Water droplets fell from the end of her dark hair, landing with soft plinking sounds on the floor.

"Did something happen?" Jean asked, concern creasing her forehead as she crossed the room, keeping her voice low. She reached out and touched her sister's arm, feeling the chill through the sodden fabric of her coat.