Chapter I

"If I ask you a question, do you promise not to lie?"

She eyes me with a smirk. Well, what passes for a smirk when it comes to Jeannie, anyway.

"No. If I answer, do you promise to believe me?"

"No."

"Good night, Logan."

She turns to leave and I stay behind. I listen to the sound of her steps as she climbs the stairs and goes into her bedroom. I'll keep listening until her breath slows down and she falls asleep. Then I'll go to my room, lie in my bed and close my eyes. But I will hear her when she wakes up.

Since I've somehow been roped into giving her my word that I wouldn't follow her, this will have to do. I'm not breaking my promise if I don't actually, physically follow her around. That should be good enough.

Or I could just follow her, my word be damned. My honor means nothing to anyone anymore and if I have to spy on her I will, before she wastes away before my eyes or something even worse happens.

I've only been back in the mansion for less than two weeks and I already know that something seriously screwed up is going on here. And I mean something even more screwed up than what you can usually expect when you toss together such a pack of damaged individuals. And I know it involves Jean. I knew it from the moment I saw her. Not just because she was pale as death and looked like a deer caught in the headlights when she saw me, either. Even though I'd like to think she was thrilled to see me, there was a lot more there. Like a sudden wave of panic – and I'm good at smelling that.

Then there's the way she's pretty much out of it for much of the day. Just sitting in the kitchen and staring off into space. That is if she comes down from her room at all. I think she's making an effort not to be left alone with me, but probably that's just my ego talking. Either way, I've hardly been able to talk to her and I have no idea what I'd say if I found the chance.

Scenarios I've considered and discarded over the last week: She's terminally ill. She's going into the Danger Room at night for some reason and getting herself beaten up. She's reading everybody's thoughts and dying from the collective gloom and bitterness. She's... sneaking out and getting drunk until sunrise every night? Fuck.

And as much as I'd like to pin everything on old One-Eye, I've ruled that out as well. I probably entertained the notion for three seconds before deciding he's too much of a wimp even for that. If he knows something's amiss, he doesn't show it – but I can't be sure. Never trust anyone you can't look in the eye.

As for Charles, nothing that involves him is certain. I'm sort of ticked by how he's probably reading every thought as it enters my head and having a laugh at my expense, but I can't waste my time with that. Not if I want to get this right for once in my life.

tbc