Sitting in the middle of the conference hall, Jean was puzzling over a nagging feeling in her head. It had begun when she was presenting her research on genetic code, like the onset of stomach flu. Charles had seen the fractional pause in her sentence, trying to reassure the loaded glance Hank McCoy had given him, having seen it as well.

"Jean, are you all right," Hank asked as she took her seat.

"I think so," she took a deep breath, removing her glasses.

"Is there something wrong at home," Charles asked.

"I checked with Scott just now, everything is as it should be," Jean replied, though the tone of her voice held a certain doubt to it.

Hank took Jean's wrist gently, counting the beat of her pulse while Charles took a pose that suggested he was a man of advanced age resting his eyes.

"Are you feeling faint?"

"No, not at all," Jean shook her head, waiting to see what Charles said.

"There's nothing wrong in our immediate area," Charles opened his eyes after a moment.

"I need to go home."

Hank nodded, closing his laptop.

"No. Just me," Jean looked to Charles.

"Don't rush," Charles replied simply.

Jean nodded, grabbing her briefcase as she rose from her seat.

"Charles, are you sure she should be going alone," Hank asked.

"She left us here to keep us safe."

"From what," Hank's eyebrows drew together in confusion.

"For as much as I know of telepathy, Jean is something else. If she insists we stay here, we stay here," Charles turned to the speaker at the podium.

Jean pulled into the garage of Xavier's at quarter to eleven, with a growing sense of dread. Something didn't feel right, and she needed to talk to Logan.

"Back already," Storm asked.

"Have you seen Logan?"

"He can't be many places, you know how he is."

"Jean, what are you doing home," the surprised and smiling face of her husband, Scott Summers fell into step with her.

"Slim, do you know where Logan is?"

Scott's smile faltered, "He's in the gym, is there something wrong with the Professor?"

"No, he's with Hank in the city," she headed toward the elevator, Scott's hand felt too hot in her cold and clammy grasp.

"What is it," he asked quietly.

"I don't know yet," Jean hit the corresponding button on the panel.

Jean heard the clank of heavy metal as they walked into the gym; Logan looked up with hooded eyes.

"Jean?"

"Something isn't right."

"I can smell it on you, what's the intel?"

"There isn't any."

Logan frowned, looking to Scott for an answer to why his woman reeked of fear. Scott could only shrug.

"I don't know why yet, I just knew I had to get home. Can't you sense it?"

The fact that Jean had come to him first put him on alert, but the fact that she sensed something before he did had him very much on edge. While she was a finely tuned machine mentally, Logan usually had the animal instinct angle.

"Lockdown the mansion, Summers."

"I'm on it," Scott ran from the room.

"What's going on, Jean?"

"I really don't know," her chin trembled with the attempt to stay calm.

Jean groaned as a new ache hit her, Logan grabbed her around the waist as he looked to the ceiling of the lower floor. He felt the slightest disturbance above him. To feel that in the lower floors meant something big and bad had to have happened on the ground floor.

"I see it. Stryker," she whimpered. "He had a neural inhibitor."

"Stryker," Logan snarled.

"He has armed forces; they're going to kill us all," the ache subsided in Jean's head, and she ran for Cerebro.

"Jean, wait!"

"I have to shut it down, they need you upstairs!"

Her feet barely whispered over the metal floors, gaining access to Cerebro. It was an eerie peace that crashed against her hammering heart, feeling Charles' presence in the room. Jean ran to the end of the plank, falling to her knees at the edge of Cerebro's power center. Removing the glass cylinder, she ripped at the wires, manipulating the sparks to melt it down to a hunk of metal.

Jean! Stay where you are, hide!

"Scott," she breathed.

Clutching the cylinder to her chest, she ran into the lab she shared with Hank and typed in the self-destruct code. Time seemed to slow as she ran for the elevators; a blast to her chest knocked her to the ground.

Scott!

Jean felt for the wound, she felt a sticky liquid on her palm, but as she looked down she realized it was the liquid of the cylinder that had shattered under her weight. There was no gunman on the lower level. The blast she felt was…

Scott.

Her own vision flickered and dimmed as he looked at Storm, already dead beside him, Scott would not allow her to see what he saw.

Scott cut their link as more pain left her mouth open in a silent scream. They were torturing him. She felt hollow without his mind connected to hers, dragging herself to her feet, she staggered into the elevator and went up to ground level. He was in the foyer, she had to get there.

Scott, I'm sorry! I shouldn't have left you! Just hold on!

"COME AND GET ME!" Logan howled with rage in another part of the mansion as he plunged his adamantium claws into any part of these masked cowards he could get close to.

Jean gave a stuttering gasp as Logan grabbed her by the arms, trying to take her to the escape hatch hidden behind the wall. Their home blazed around them. Blood and sweat streamed off his body in rivulets, she couldn't be sure how much of it was his and how much of his victims, his chest heaving with exertion. She knew by the look in his eye what he dreaded to tell her, if she didn't already know.
"No."
"You don't want to go in there."
"I need to see him for myself!"
It looked like he contemplated taking her by force, but released her and followed close by to keep her safe from anyone left alive.
Jean sank to her knees, touching her husband's warm face. He looked peaceful, asleep; she forced herself not to look at what they did to him. Touching his neck and wrist, she knew he was gone.
"Did you kill them all?"
"Yes," Logan growled, bloody berserker rage still pounding in his ears.
She kissed Scott's mouth tenderly, and stood up. Logan knelt down to close Storm's eyes, muttering something that sounded like a goodbye.
"There's more coming," she turned her head toward the open front door.
They ran to the escape door as powerful helicopter spotlights threw the mansion into sharp too-bright relief. Logan shoved the door open, pushing Jean through before hauling himself in as well. He closed and barred the door, following her down the tunnel.
Jean patched up injuries as Logan and the other teachers placed students into various cars.
"Where's Scott and Storm?"
"They aren't coming," Jean whispered, hugging Kitty quickly before putting her into the passenger seat.
Jean and Logan were the only two left.
She watched the rearview lights disappear into the night; feeling like her own heart had been ripped from her body and placed in her hand. Scott, her family, the children...all gone so quickly. Her knees buckled, Logan caught her before she collapsed to the ground. His guts twisted at the dullness in her green eyes, she looked right through him.
"C'mon Jean," Logan loaded her into the last car gently, taking the route that skirted the property at top speed.
Grief, or possibly the explosions made it hard to hear. Logan grabbed the comm unit, shouting into the phone.
"Charles! They stormed the goddamned house! Some of the kids, God...Scott and Stormy didn't make it...What do you want us to do?!"
Jean turned her head, watching Logan's expression become blank.
"Yes," he replied, and disconnected the call.
"What did Charles say?"
"Run for your lives."