Disclaimer: I don't own "The Rain" or any of its characters, wishful thinking aside.

Authors Note #1: I recently got into "The Rain" and fell in love. This was mostly inspired by Jean's character development during season one, but honestly- I have no idea how this happened.

Warnings: vague crossover mentioned to X-men, wing!fic, mutant!Jean, canon appropriate violence, references to character death and Jean's shitty background, Jean x Lea, bamf!Jean.

A new world (Icarus)

Martin was in a bloody heap in Simone's arms, bleeding quietly into the grass. Gun empty. Smoke still curling fresh from the barrel as it laid in the grass at their feet. On the opposite side of the clearing Patrick had a gun to his head. Dark eyes darting in panic, feet stamping in the dirt. Rasmus was no where to be seen. Simone had yelled for him to hide when they realized they were being surrounded. The Strangers were after him after all. But he hadn't expected him to listen.

Rasmus didn't listen to anyone anymore.

But he had no eyes for anything but Lea. Watching as the thick man in front of him laughed cruelly. Making her flinch as he dragged his tongue up the pale of her neck. Digging the point of his knife into the side of her breast to keep her still. Daring her to squirm and give him a reason to break skin. Daring him to do something about it as he stood in the middle of it all. Fists clenched. Teeth bared behind the safety of his lips. Knowing full well what he was about to do as a surge of excited, terrified heat curled in the pit of his stomach.

They hadn't thought he was a threat.

That had been their first mistake.

The second was putting a knife to Lea's throat.

Because somehow, the moment they grabbed her all his self control - all the years he'd spent learning to control that cord of fire that lived inside his veins - evaporated like dew in the middle of a fire storm.

Even Professor Xavier's cautious voice was faint inside his head. Reminding him that this wasn't who he was. That there were other ways. That his mutant name, Icarus, wasn't an empty one. But a warning he'd chosen for himself the same day the man had reached out to him with his mind from halfway across the world. Finding him before his pained screams could finish echoing in the debris of the only home he'd ever known. The stink of burned skin and singed ozone clinging in his sinuses like something alive and bleeding. Naked and chest heaving as soot-streaked wings fluttered high over his shoulders.

The blue of his veins started to glow molten red through his skin as one of the Strangers tossed Simone's backpack to the ground in frustration. Scalding heat creeping up his forearms from his clenched fists as the man with the gun to Patrick's head hissed out an angry curse.

"Come on, lets deal with them and go. I don't want to be out in the open when the rain comes. Daniel! Leave the bitch! Get your ass over here and-"

Icarus' downfall had been hubris and pride.

The belief that one could be invincible because he had his father's intellect and ability to fly high.

It was that lack of respect for the natural order that had melted the wax and feathers from the wings his father had created.

But unlike Icarus, he had the power of the sun inside himself, which was even worse.

Because if he wasn't careful, he too would burn and fall without ever leaving the ground.

"What the fuc-"

He didn't make a sound when the back of his yellow jacket bulged and ripped. Brown and white speckled wings exploding mutely into the open air as Lea's eyes went wide.

"Jean..."

Somewhere behind him he was aware Rasmus had straightened from the rock he'd been hiding behind. That Simone was staring at him with an expression he didn't recognize. And that Martin's eyes were unfocused, but open. Blinking slowly like he didn't believe what he was seeing.

He didn't blame him.

His mother hadn't either.

She'd been so frozen she hadn't been able to run.

Not until it as too late.

"Don't be afraid," he murmured. Exhaling heat like the slick of gasoline on asphalt in high summer. Lips splitting, burning with napalm for saliva as twinned orbs of blinding light formed in the balls of his palms. "Lea...don't be afraid."

He didn't know he was waiting for permission until she met his eyes and inclined her head. Words reverent and wrecked, but somehow not afraid as her fingers dug into the Stranger's forearms like a promise.

"I'm not," she whispered simply. "You're here."

The best part was that he believed her.

That was his last thought before he fell.

Then there was only light and fire.

Five years later the spot where it'd happened was still barren. Soil roasted to a crunchy, acrid char that went past sediment. Burning all the roots alive in the dirt until the entire area was almost radiated.

There was nothing left of the men who'd attacked them. They'd burned from the inside out the moment he'd touched them. Flinging the one holding the gun on Patrick into the forest canopy with a blast of light and fire that scorched the inside of his palms. Waiting until Patrick ducked into the brush, taking Rasmus with him, before flinging his wings out to their full height, knocking the knife out of the man's hand as Lea sagged to the earth. Fingers clinging deep into the shriveling grass as heat radiated from him in brutal waves, sucking the moisture out of everything that moved as fire erupted out of the mouths of the two others trying to escape with the last of their supplies. Watching them die as they collapsed in front of Simone and Martin, skin bubbling and burning away to reveal charred ivory ribs and-

Then there'd just been Lea.

"Let it go," she'd murmured, reaching up like she wanted to touch as the last of his clothes peeled away in ashes. Daring like his namesake to reach the sun as his wings flared around her. Keeping her safe as the air grew thick and suffocating. "Let it go, Jean. You have to let it go. They're gone. We're safe. Please. For me?"

And he had. Soul on string only for her as the blinding glow under his skin flickered and dimmed like a dying star. Letting the siren call of power and oblivion seep away like poison being rinsed from a wound.

She was the one who caught him before he fell - exhausted. Knees folding as she rocked him through it. Murmuring words. Prayers. Even thanks as the others blinked moisture back into their eyes and stared as his wings sunk back into the hunch of his shoulder blades and disappeared. Oxygen slowly hushing back into the air above their heads as the quiet stretched and Martin slowly levered himself to his feet.

They were untouched.

Alive.

Somehow, he'd kept them safe.

He tipped his head to the side as he owned the memory. Wings puffed up in clear pleasure as Lea ran her fingers through the downy soft of the secondary feathers. Eyes closed as they stood on the edge of the clearing and embraced the ghosts openly.

He didn't regret it.

Any of it.

Not even when the others had treated him with careful, kid gloves for a while. Or when his explanations for what he was dried up like everything else he'd touched that day. Not even when he hadn't been able to save Rasmus from himself a few months later. Or when Apollon kept them on the run. Deciding they wanted what he was and what he could do for themselves. Hunting them every day until he finally burned one of their outposts to the ground. The sound of their screams carrying on the wind in an agonized chorus as he flew higher and higher. Feeling like Icarus - if only for a moment. Desperate to touch the sun as their bodies writhed and burned below. Before he caught sight of Lea watching him from the cliff edge.

Waiting for him to come down.

So he had.

Apollon left them alone after that.

In a way, for the first time in his life, he'd gained more than he'd lost by showing his true self. Some days he wondered if he deserved it. Others he was too selfish to even think about letting go.

"Hey!" Martin called, breaking him out of his head as the man gestured over to where the others were ringed around the fire. "Dinner is getting cold!"

"You ready?" Lea asked softly, nudging him with her shoulder. The swell of her belly riding low and taut as she brushed her hand over the bump fondly.

A son, their son, she was sure of it.

And just like he had when she'd first told him. Nervous, excited and terrified all at once as Simone lingered nearby, smiling with her eyes, he didn't say a thing. He just laced his fingers together with hers and pressed a kiss into her hair.

Because the truth was, the only sun he was drawn to these days was her.

A/N: Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think.