Jean sat and watched James play with Kitty and Jubliee in the sunny courtyard. He was barely two and already running around like the little hellion she knew he would be. His eyes were blue-green, brows high and inquisitive (he had Logan's quirk perfected), and sported hints of what would become an almost carbon-copy of his father's profile.

Kitty jumped out from behind a tree, growling loudly enough to send him running.

"MAMA!"

"Over here, hurry hurry hurry," she held her arms open as he ran toward her.

Scrambling onto her lap, she wrapped James tight in her arms, covering him in the dark green cotton dupatta that was the custom of most women in India. She grinned at Kitty as the young woman circled the chair.

"Where did that little wolvie go?"

James giggled.

"He isn't here," Jean sighed.

"I thought I saw him come this way," Kitty tapped her chin thoughtfully.

"He passed me by."

"Oh, then I'll just go and find him then," Kitty said loudly, walking away to hide around the corner.

James stuck his head out of the dupatta, wriggled down from her lap, and ran exactly the way Kitty had gone. A loud growl and the chase was on again. Bobby scooped up James before Kitty could get her hands on him, James laughing uncontrollably as he was hoisted on Bobby's shoulder.

Jean opened her eyes in the dark, feeling James climbing onto the bed.

"What is it, love?"

"Bad dreams," he mumbled, laying his head on her shoulder.

"Monsters under the bed?"

"No."

"Hmm...what is it," she asked, placing a kiss on the top of his head. Brushing her fingertips over his temple, she saw his playmate's father. He already understood that Paro had a father, and he didn't. Thinking of Bobby, Scott, and Jean-Paul...he somehow knew that none of them were his father, as much as they took care of him.

Jean's breath caught in her throat, she hadn't expected this day until he was older. But here it was, the first of many things he wouldn't understand. Jean ran her index finger down his nose. "Close your eyes, I'm here."

Though her teammates would be positive influences on James, she wondered how she was going to raise him to be a good man. Logan had been that good man, there was no one else for her in this life to be a good father to James. When James' abilities manifested and he was discriminated against, would she be enough to help him understand?

Thoughts chased themselves around her mind and she fell into an uneasy rest, cradling her little boy to her chest.

Emma looked up as Jean stepped into the kitchen, pouring a cup of coffee.

"What."

"James. He knows that Paro has a father and he doesn't. I saw it in his head."

"He has a father," Emma muttered, having looked less and less like her unaffected self since James was born.

"Emma," Jean sighed.

"Jean, Logan isn't dead."

Jean jumped as if she'd been slapped, tears shining in her eyes. "Of all the things you've ever said to me, that hurts the most," she whispered.

"I am not lying to you," Emma insisted.

"I saw his body," Jean groaned, feeling as if she had been kicked hard in the stomach. "The whole world did."

"When I talked to Hank for you, he told me."

"Almost three years ago?"

"You were concerned for the baby, I didn't want you to lose him."

"But Logan was alive this whole time," she shouted.

"Could you have taken that shock, Hank wasn't even sure he could keep him alive! They cut his head off, remember?"

"How did he survive?"

"They got on the inside. The execution happened, but before his spinal cord was completely severed they intervened. It was close, they only had seconds to mask it. Bobby iced his body until they got him safely away. Even a self-regenerating Mutant couldn't come back from that in hours or days. It was months before he walked again."

"Is he damaged?"

"Unless you count the bad mood he started with, he healed completely," Emma smirked.

"You've talked with him," she grabbed Emma's shoulders, desperate to hear more.

"He knows about James."

"I want to see him," Jean demanded. "Tell me where he is."

"I'll call Scott, he's in Japan," she reached for the phone. "Jean."

Jean stopped at the doorway to the kitchen, turning her head. "What, Emma."

"I did it for you and James," there was a hint of a tremble in her voice.

"I know," Jean nodded.