[Author's Note: It's nice to see that some people are still reading my story. I've been completely occupied by work and school, but I found the time to write this chapter in a pathetic attempt to make up for months of silence. I hope you guys like it. Sorry if the last few chapters haven't been sexy enough. I promise a powerful climax to this story, coming very soon.

Xavier strained to find the right words to say to Jean. In just a few days she had lost her normal radiance and cheer. Now she bore sacks under her eyes, didn't bother to style her hair, and exuded a palpable sense of dread. He needed a closer look inside her head. "How are you feeling Jean?"

She looked up at him like she could cry. In fact, she could not. She spoke in a whisper, "I'm losing my mind."

He studied her gaze very carefully. She locked eyes with him, unashamed of her condition. She wasn't pleading for help, nor was she afraid of her situation. That made him wonder who he was really talking to. He wheeled around the lab, gathering various vials of anti-psychotic medications and psychic dampeners. "Jean, I'm afraid that your power spike a few days ago changed certain aspects of your brain chemistry. It might be rewired synapses, exhausted neurons, or maybe even ego loss. The first step is to get your powers under control so we can treat these symptoms and then find the cause."

"You're lying, Professor."

He was lying. But Jean wouldn't know that. They share a common courtesy of privacy and don't eavesdrop on each other without asking. He would have noticed if she had tried anyway. He gave her a perfectly believable diagnosis, and she doesn't have the education to debunk his psychobabble. With the certainty of a turn-of-the-century English detective high on cocaine, he deduced that Phoenix was behind the wheel, probably subconsciously. Jean may be awake, in a fashion, but Phoenix was behind the scenes calling the shots. She wouldn't let him drug her.

"OK Jean. The truth is that I have no idea what's wrong with you or how to cure you. If I could link up with you in your psychic realm, we could look into this together. Would that be alright with you?"

Are you trying to die old man?

"I suppose that could work. To be honest, I'm a little afraid of what's in there," Jean said.

Xavier took a second to still his mind, like the Buddhists had taught him. Every thought in his mind could betray his plan if Phoenix heard it. With a clear mind, she wouldn't see the trap coming.

(As still as the oceans without wind—as calm as a leaf falling from a tree—as serene as the moon on a moonless night) After one deep breath, he was ready.

Finally, he spoke, "Come here Jean. I've adapted some of my machinery to assist in this task." He placed some electrodes on his cranium, gathering up his courage as she took a seat in front of him. He watched her expression change from vacant malaise to palpable excitement right before his eyes. Phoenix was roused from the shadows. The closer she is to achieving her desires, the more she comes to the forefront of Jean's consciousness. Xavier thought for a second about what would happen if she actually bested him. The safeguards in his machinery might not save him.

I've been waiting a long time for this. I'll make you pay for what you did. Do you know what it's like to be locked away for eighteen years in a land without time?

Courage, Xavier. Have faith in your abilities. You've beaten her once before. He dared to taunt her, "You were a petulant child then, Phoenix. You're a petulant child now."

She took the seat in front of him and smiled as she placed the electrodes on her forehead. She stared Xavier right in the eyes and the machine powered on.

Phoenix created an environment suitable for her revenge against Xavier. She had envisioned this a thousand times in her head, and already knew exactly how she wanted to do it. She painted the void of her psychic realm with crimson skies and black clouds, thunder rolling in the distance and lightning flashing constantly. The earth was dry as a cracked desert, and very, very cold. A smirk graced her face as her entire body went red with flame. Xavier stood in her world now, and she could bring all her power to bear on him. He looked surprised by his surroundings, and tried to sever the connection almost immediately—to no avail. He now stood helpless before a vengeful goddess.

She raised her arm toward him and psychic flames snaked around his body, holding his arms to his sides and his feet together. She laughed with glee as he struggled in vain, wincing from the pain of his bonds. "That's just how it felt at first. I couldn't move and it hurt to try. But with time, it got much worse," She spoke as she circled him. She probed his mind, hoping to find pain and fear. He tried to hide it, but he was terrified and agonized. She felt a rush of energy go through her body, a surge of excitement and desire fueled by Xavier's pain.

The binds around Xavier began to tighten, biting and burning his flesh. At the top, a serpent's head materialized. It rose to his eye level and struck, sinking its teeth in his forehead. Xavier felt it scrambling his brainwaves, weakening his focus and amplifying his pain. Phoenix walked around him, inspecting the tortures she had spent so long imagining. "The isolation and loneliness was like a poison to me. I felt like I was going mad. I would have given anything for sensation, any sensation, even the pain you're feeling now."

Xavier was gritting his teeth, keeping from crying out. This angered Phoenix. Her revenge would not be complete unless she broke him. Her excitement was petering off, stifled by his resistance. If she could just get him to scream . . . she could have her sadistic climax. She had to inflict more than pain. "You're quite strong-willed, old man. But I've got some bad news for you. You've got a weakness, and it's got red hair, a gorgeous smile, and a gentle heart. Can you guess what I'm going to do to her once I'm free?"

He glared at her with eyes that pleaded for some kind of decency, humanity, or mercy. That got her going. She laughed deeply and loudly, mocking his caring nature. He saw Jean trapped in a small cage, her knees to her chest and her head bowed down. She was cold, wet, and naked. She shook and sobbed, completely despondent in hopeless despair. "You know she's not like me. That cage will kill her. But before I lock her in I'll kill you and Scott and everyone else she might care about. Doesn't that just break your old heart?"

His lips quivered. His eyes began overflowing. His throat swelled. Phoenix pressed herself against his back. She held him close as a lover to get that much more energy from his pain. She felt that he was so close to cracking. She was close too—not to an actual orgasm, but something much like it. She whispered in his ear, "It's over Xavier. Now why don't you just scream for me?"

And he did. It was everything she hoped for.

Inside his lab, Xavier monitored the neuro-conduit-array (the same machine that ran Scott through his simulations) as it rerouted neuro-electricity directly from and into Jean's mind. It was working perfectly. He relaxed knowing that his plan was a success. Phoenix was hooked into a feedback loop in the machine, her dangerous energies redirected to her imagination. He shuddered to think what she thought she was doing to him in there. It must be horrible. Part of him knew that he probably deserved some of her wrath. It's only fair, after what he did to her. But there was no need to volunteer for punishment. Karma would find him eventually.

With Phoenix distracted, Xavier got out a needle and prepared the psychic dampeners and anti-psychotics. He pumped one needle full of drugs into her, and then another. He wished that he could have more time to test the dosages for what was safe and what wasn't. He had to err on the side of overdosing, giving her a third shot. Her powers had to be quite diluted if there was any hope of confronting her. It would happen sometime tonight, he was sure of it. Scott had been making a lot of progress in their therapy sessions. Hopefully after one last lesson he would be ready.