NOTE: So I know, I took a little time to post this, because of work. But I'm back, and I'm here to give you some damn good drama. We've reached a turning point here, and yeah sure maybe I just liked riffing off of "New Dawn," but at the Chapter 10 mark (which I split into a twofer) we're moving from nights to days. So look out for your very fist hint of daylight in the next installment. Fangirl wise, I'm also pretty cheery because even though X of Swords is complicated as fuck and I'm busy trying to figure out who the hell is from where doing what with who (listen, I have an advanced degree and I can't figure wtf is up with Marvel storylines sometimes), they HAVE NOT RUINED Logan/Jean yet! Hallelujah! It's a Marvel Christmas- er, Halloween miracle! I thought for sure they'd eff this thing up five minutes from when they started it, but... keep up the good work guys. Let us dream. LET THEM BE! And pics or it didn't happen. Anyway, I digress. Your chapter awaits.

NIGHT 10 (PART 2)

"Who's there?" I called again, trying not to sound frightened, but the only sound was my voice echoing around me.

I wrapped my arms around myself in the cold, mouth suddenly dry. I shivered. The temperature had dropped and I felt the chill deep in my bones. The night was still and quiet around me. The only light was from the eerie amber glow of the resurrection pods. I cast out a net with my mind, scanning for someone, anyone-but I felt psychically blinded. I heard the the sharp crack of a twig, and I whipped my head around. I saw nothing but darkness. It was a moonless night, and in every direction after only a few feet my vision faded to an inky black.

There were only a handful of people who could shield themselves this well from me, and I wasn't looking forward to running into any one of them tonight.

"Who's there? Show yourself!" I commanded, anger starting to creep in behind my fear. I'd had enough of people fucking with me this week to last a whole lifetime. If someone was here to kill me, they better hurry the hell up and get it done fast.

A shape melted out of the shadows, and I let out a huge breath of air I'd kept in my lungs as I made out the facial features of the tall, powerful-looking man who appeared and I realized exactly who it was.

"Erik?" I asked in surprise.

Magneto stepped into the light, and greeted me with one hand open.

"It wasn't my intention to scare you Jean," he offered by way of apology. I stared back at him, half apprehensive and half pissed off.

"Oh, really? I'm alone out here at God knows what hour, and you thought," I gestured around me, "...lurking around in the dark would be, what, relaxing for me?" I snapped. I wasn't actually angry at him in particular, just tired and frayed in general. "What are you doing out here?" I asked, suspicious.

He looked me up and down. I blushed and crossed my arms over my chest, plainly aware of my state of disarray. Then I stared back at him defiantly.

"You're quite the mess, my dear, aren't you?" He mused, although there was a quiet kindness in his voice. He was looking at me with something like pity, and I didn't like it, not one bit. "Walk with me, will you, Jean?" he asked.

Erik did always have a way of avoiding any line of direct questioning, but I wasn't in the mood for any more of these games.

"No," I said, drawing back from him, "First, tell me why you're here. Why you knew I was here. Do you know about-"

"Yes," he hissed, quickly shushing me, face flickering from light to shadows for just a moment, raising one hand to silence me. "I know. I know about it. All of it. Here is not the place to discuss it, understand?"

I stared at him, eyes searching his face, feeling shocked, angry, hopeful.

"You do? You know-" I started.

"We can't talk here, it's not safe," he interrupted quickly, taking me gently by the arm and guiding me onto a dark path that headed away from the hatchery, out into the forest.

"Where are we going? Where are you taking me?" I asked uneasily, allowing myself be led, but not entirely confident I was making the right decision by following along.

"Jean, I know it's not easy, and perhaps not your first instinct, which I can't fault you for knowing our history, but you're going to have to trust me," Erik replied evenly, as the dim light of the hatchery disappeared in the distance.

I figured I didn't have much of a choice at this point and I was too tired to protest, so I let myself to be led out into the wilderness of Krakoa. Magneto and I were on the same team... weren't we? It was hard to know anymore, there were so many questions, so much suspicion and confusion swirling together my mind. And on top of that, I was exhausted, tired of shouldering the weight of everything that was happening on my own.

We walked for a good ten minutes or so in silence over uneven terrain, just the crackling of leaves and grass beneath our feet. I didn't recognize where we were going, but then again the island shifted often enough that I might not have known even in the daylight. At last Erik slowed, his hand falling away from my arm, and I could see him moving aside dried brush in the dark. I wasn't sure how he knew where he was going in the pitch black, but as always, his body language was confident and he seemed assured.

"What is this place and where are we, exactly?" I asked, teeth chattering from the cold, as I saw the familiar glint of metal under his hands, where he had cleared away enough dead shrubbery for me to see a door.

He turned towards me, profile silhouetted in the dark, and grinned. "Welcome to my home here Jean. My real home, here on Krakoa at least."

Strangely enough, a part of me wanted to laugh, wanted to roll my eyes and say, of course. Erik always had a thing for secret bases and lairs, Asteroid M coming to mind as perhaps the most large and complex. He'd even hidden out among us as Xorn at one point. The fact that he had some enigmatic hideaway stashed in the wilderness of Krakoa made perfect sense. In an odd way, it gave me a sense of nostalgia. Things had seemed so simple years ago, back when Magneto had been synonymous with villain. Good and bad. Black and white. I felt I'd been innocent back then, naive. I was an X-Man, logo bright and shiny, a bright eyed young superhero, just trying to make things right in the world. Oh how I'd grown, and how it had all changed. Everything had.

With a gesture of his hand, he willed the metal to open, and it complied with a screech. Metal- of course, a smile almost curled my lip. I imagined how uncomfortable it must make Erik, to be essentially stranded on an organic being without an ounce of the material he depended on for almost everything. But he, like most of us, had apparently found a way to make it work. He had brought his element with him, so to speak.

I ducked inside the metal doorway, traveled through a short passageway that looked crude and simple, just carved out dirt, but then opened onto a spectacular sight. It was a large dwelling, a merging of metal and classic Krakoan architecture. It was simple, but effective; he had a table, chairs, a small kitchen area, several beds built into grooves in the floor lined by braided roots, and a hallway back to what I assumed was a bathroom or shower. The lighting was made from bioluminescence, glowing orbs scattered over the walls and ceiling, but it cast a warmth about the place that made it look almost homey.

"Impressive, yes?" Erik asked wryly.

"Honestly...it is," I said. "I had no idea you had this here,"

"Most don't, and I prefer to keep it that way," he replied simply, shutting the door behind us with a clang. I gave a little start of surprise as I felt him wrap a blanket around my shoulders, "You're shivering. Here Jean, sit down. Let me give you at least some of the explanation you so sorely deserve."

I sat down at one of the chairs at the metal table in front of me. Erik hung his cape on a hook, strolled into the kitchen and asked, "Tea?"

"Why not," I said reflexively. I was freezing cold and a hot drink sounded good. I was still looking around in wonder at the unusual architecture of his hybrid Krakoan hideaway, until suddenly I thought better of his offer and asked, eyes narrowed, "I'm sorry, what kind of 'tea,' exactly?"

Magneto chuckled, "Oh my dear," he said. "Old habits die hard. I of all people should know. But I will assure you that this time I am on your side. I am not your enemy. If I was, you wouldn't be here. Alive."

"Thats very reassuring," I said sarcastically. "It this your way of telling me it's plain old English Breakfast?"

"Grace, class, a sense of humor in an omega level mutant," Erik mused. "I always had a soft spot for you Jean, for all those reasons and more. Never could understand why you were always so taken with Wolverine, of all people," he said with a roll of his eyes. "It's not English Breakfast, it's one of Krakoan's own. Oh, nothing like the petals. No drugs, no side effects. Just a slightly bitter flavor, but tastes very good when it's sweetened a bit. Rather suits the mood, don't you think?"

"Why not," I replied, sighing. At this point, being drugged or poisoned could probably only make things better. And he had a point, Magneto was a powerful and intelligent man. If his goal had been to take me out, I likely wouldn't be sitting here, his blanket over my shoulders, waiting on him for tea. But then again, that intelligence and planning could also lead to a game of cat and mouse and I wasn't yet sure that scenario wasn't what I'd stumbled into. I remained wary.

"I'd like to take off my helmet, I'd be more comfortable without it," Erik continued casually, as if we weren't two people having a conversation about a forbidden secrets in the middle of the night inside a hidden base, but instead just two old friends having a leisurely teatime. "I suppose you would feel more comfortable too," he said, giving me a pointed look and raising his eyebrow as he stirred the tea.

"I would," I replied truthfully. My telepathy was like a sixth sense to me; not being able to get a read on him was making me slightly nervous.

"As I've asked you to trust me, I would also like to at this point, entrust myself to you. I don't mind if you read my intentions Jean, but please don't go looking farther," Erik said, tapping a finger to his forehead lightly. "It won't end well. For either of us. That's not a threat, just a reality, because I would be in just as much danger as you. Do I have your word?" he asked, using a hanging root to add more water to the mugs, and heating it over a small metal grill. It really was quite amazing, and had it been under any other circumstances I would have wanted the full house tour.

"You have my word, and just so you know, Erik; I don't read people's minds on my own moral and principle." I sat up straighter, "You're not getting anything more than the general courtesy I would extend to anyone," I responded with finality. I wanted him to know that despite his efforts to charm me and convince me he was somehow on my side, I wasn't yet free from reservations. Removing the helmet would be a small token, and a step in the right direction for us.

He looked at me for a moment, gave a small nod of his head and removed the helmet, placing it on the wooden countertop.

"What do you see in him exactly, Jean?" he asked, taking out a jar of honey from a shelf and drizzling it leisurely in the tea. He hadn't asked if I'd wanted any, and I had a feeling Erik was always in a more comfortable role leading rather than serving.

"In Logan?" I replied. I opened my mouth to answer and then stopped myself, "Why do you want to know?"

Erik brought over two cups of tea, in metal mugs, and placed one in front of me as the steam rose up. It smelled fragrant, almost like freshly cut roses.

"Because," he said, pulling out the chair and sitting across from me, "No matter what we do, you two seem to end up pulling this tragic Romeo and Juliet routine over, and over. So whatever it is that exists between you, can't fathom. I certainly say I can't see what you see in that hairy little brute, but it's obvious you two have some connection that goes quite a bit deeper. It's been quite exhausting, really, keeping tabs on you, chasing you two down every time. Of course, it's a little different this time, isn't it?"

I stared at him.

"What on Earth are you talking about?" I asked, genuinely bewildered.

"Oh yes. Well that part seems to work just fine. The selective memories that is. Jean, I know it's probably hard to shock you after everything you've been through, so I won't preface this with any fancy soliloquy, but you should know that this is now the third time that you and Logan have... er, shall we say, been ill-fated star-crossed lovers."

"What does that mean?" I asked him, pulling the blanket tighter around myself. I was using telepathy to read him now, and I was doing it as deeply as I could without having him consciously feel it, and I could tell, from what I read, his intentions were in fact genuine. He didn't mean to harm me. He wanted to tell me more than he was going to be able to. I couldn't see more than that, not without him being aware that I was carefully tiptoeing around in his head.

"I'll tell you a little story, Jean. As you know, there are certain people in certain high circles, who would like to maintain a specific way of life. A specific narrative for Krakoa, and the Krakoan people. There is immense pressure to show the world that a sovereign mutant nation can not only survive, but thrive. For...these people-and yes, I was once one of them so forgive me-these certain circles became aware that individuals could be altered; improved, if you will, during the resurrection process. And they decided to use that to their advantage."

"Are you trying to say... you'd kill people, just to bring them back after manipulating their memories?" I asked, disgusted.

"Yes," he answered seriously, his expression contrite. "That wasn't clear to me at time that this started. It wasn't how it was supposed to be. But it has become clear to me now. You and Scott were the face of this island, the backbone if you will. We wanted you together, happy, because it showed that Krakoa worked. And you yourselves, you wanted to be together, happy. So the first time your eyes wandered towards Logan, and this surreptitious romance began, we thought we were doing both you and ourselves a favor by...resetting everything. Starting again and giving everyone a fresh shot, to try and make it work this time. To try and be better."

"You KILLED us?" I asked shocked. "Me and Logan? You killed us so I'd stay with Scott?"

"Well... you, yes Jean. Logan as I'm sure you know is hardier than a cockroach; we didn't actually fully terminate or resurrect him, just harmed him enough to subdue him and sent him to the body shop for some memory alterations, if you will. But yes, it's been the same, each time. We covered with stories; you were off on a retreat, a mission, until you could be reborn, ready to try again. That's how it all went. Until now."

My heart ached for Logan. Not only because I knew exactly how much one would have to "harm" him before he was "subdued," but also because his mind, fractured, and bent, felt like such vulnerable part of him. At the same time, alarm bells were ringing in the back of my mind and I was recalling conversations, ones that seemed innocuous at the time. Logan and I had been talking one night, and he'd told me about something that had been bothering him. Domino had asked to keep the difficult memories of when she had been captured and tortured, if she was ever resurrected. She'd told him, with conviction, that she wanted it to remain a part of her. However, when she'd come back, they'd been erased. It bothered him, for obvious reasons, but at the time I'd defended it, pointing out that maybe she'd changed her mind, and ultimately they were her memories and therefore it was her prerogative if she'd changed her mind. Now looking back on that conversation, I felt a chill up my spine and I doubted she'd made such a decision on her own at all. How widespread the implications of what Erik was telling me were just beginning to sink in; it was too much to comprehend all at once.

"Why... why I am I here now, then?" I asked Erik. "If you've just decided kill me and remake me every time I stray from this damned marriage I keep trying to end, why am I alive this time? What's different?"

"Oh my dear," Erik said sadly, his face looking solemn and "You know. You know that part quite well."

"Yes. Yes, Echo," I said softly, feeling a pull in my chest.

"Mm, is that what you've been calling her? I figured you might not be ready to give her a proper name yet. This...what we've been doing with you two, it's never involved an infant before. And that, for me, crossed the line. I know this has crossed many lines in retrospect but, the child. She's one of us, a mutant. And she deserves parents. She deserves a childhood. They were going to take that away from you, and this time, this time I decided I couldn't let them. That, Jean, is why you are here."

"And the other children?" I asked, feeling the fire surge behind my eyes.

Erik wouldn't meet my gaze.

"I am one man. I'm risking a lot, to do this for you. But if all goes according to plan, those children will all go to their rightful parents."

"And what about the lawyer?" I asked. When I said it I saw something- fear? Spark in Erik's eyes. I was surprised. He was perhaps one of the most fearless men I knew, and I wondered what it was that had triggered the response.

"Jean," he said, face serious, putting both hands over mine and looking me in the eye. "She is dangerous. She is not who or what she seems. You must be very, very cautious, avoid her entirely if you can. Do not engage her. Eventually. She will be dealt with. I wish I could tell you more, but, as I said, it will only put us in more peril than we're already in." He removed his hands from mine, sighed, and stared into his tea, deep in thought.

If all goes according to plan. IF all goes according to- whatever plan this was, that couldn't be communicated to me, apparently. That was quite an "if," for what were essentially castles in the air right now. And this was huge; not only was my child at stake, all of Krakoa was at risk. I picked up the mug of tea, held it between my hands, warming them. It was a lot to digest, but it in a twisted way it made sense. Why it was so important to keep things secret, because if anyone else had known about us, it would have taken a lot of explanation if we'd suddenly shown up the next day unaware we'd ever been in love. How Scott had been fed the line about an open marriage, to keep him partially in the dark. I wondered if he'd been manipulated too. As I drank the tea and thought things over, Erik got up, walked over to a shelf and pulled out a notebook. My eyes widened as I recognized it. I knew exactly what that notebook was, it was my mine. My journal. But my journal was hidden in a locked door, in a desk in my room, in our compound on the moon. And this journal, which looked identical, was covered in dirt, soiled. It looked like it had been through a war. He handed it to me. "I wanted you to have this. It was personal; it doesn't belong with me. And if you had any doubts about the veracity of my claims, this might help put your mind to rest."

I took it from him, laid it down before me and opened it. The pages were stuck together with dirt, it had water damage and- blood? I tried to ignore the rust colored stain on the top. On the first page, in my neat handwriting it read:

"Night 1. What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object? It's called the irresistible force paradox, and it's always what I'd felt would happen one day, in some way, between Logan and me. If we ever collided, really, would there be anything left but ashes? That scared me. The answer scared me, but the question lured me in. And yet, there were always barriers. Scott. Our geography. Our lives, our deaths. But tonight, we were talking. Talking about the past. About old friends, old enemies. It wasn't anything special. We got to talking about X-Force, joking about logical Sage was, about how Black Tom was going off his rocker, just talking. Then...I don't know quite how to explain it, that energy that's always been between us. The conversation paused. We looked at each other. Logan leaned in, and he kissed me. It was a very simple moment, very natural. He immediately told me was sorry, it was just an impulse, that I'd looked so beautiful sitting there, sitting with him on the cliffside outlooking all of Krakoa with her wild, glorious bloom. I told him not to be sorry, because I wasn't sorry, and I felt it all slip away. The guilt, the old self I'd been holding on to. Neither of us said a single word. The sun was setting, it was almost all the way down, and there in the dusk, he kissed me again, and I kissed him back. And that's how it started."

I shut the book, my mouth dry. Because despite that being my handwriting, I felt like it had been written by a stranger. Another me. Because that wasn't how it had started between Logan and I. Or, it wasn't that way it had happened in the memories that I had, not this time at least.

"I do apologize," Erik said, clearing his throat. "I don't make a habit of reading people's diaries," he offered, taking a sip of tea and then putting the mug down. "I certainly didn't read the whole thing when I realized what it was; I was asked to burn it, destroy it. Instead, I kept it, to give you as evidence for when this day arrived, as I knew it might."

I put the journal down, staring at its yellowed and muddied pages.

"So. You know about the nursery," I began, trying to concentrate on what was important right now. So much was going in, I needed to keep this focused. "You know Logan and I have a baby together. And you... you want to help us to take her home?"

"Yes," Erik replied, looking me in the eyes. "Yes. In some way, to right the wrongs for which I've been accountable. I'm not a monster my dear, though I know you may think contrary to that. I am not. I'm a mutant, I'm a man, and my decisions, which were made for the best of reasons, did not always have the best of consequences."

"So you have a plan? A plan I can't be debriefed on yet, I understand. But it exists. This plan." I queried, finishing my tea, setting down the mug on the table. It had helped, I wasn't freezing cold anymore, my head felt slightly more clear.

"I do," he confirmed. "I can't tell you everything. Not yet. But I can tell you this; we will need Logan involved. And I'm counting on you for that. I believe it will work much better if you tell him than if I do. I've never had much luck controlling his...proclivities towards vengeance or violence."

I gave Erik a dubious look. "I've wanted to tell him. I have wanted to tell him more than anything," I said, feeling the sadness swell in my voice. "But If I tell him, he's going to run straight into the middle of this, he's going to kill everybody who gets in his way and he's going to bring us all down with him. And then this, us, Echo, all of it was for nothing."

"Indeed," Erik said, giving a wry smile. "You do know him well Jean. I'm well aware of the risks. But precisely because of that, I know you'll find a way around it, or at least a way to soothe the beast, so to speak. Enough to have him thinking with his rational mind instead of his claws. I'll need him involved but I can't have him ruining the delicate balance of things I've put into motion. Can I trust you to take care of that?"

"Yes," I replied, starting to think. For the first time, I felt... hope? I could finally tell Logan what was going on, I could throw away this charade that I didn't love him. I could get our baby back. And Magneto, for better or for worse, was a powerful ally. If he truly meant what he said, we had a chance. Together, we had a chance to fix this, to make it work. I took a deep breath, a wave of dizziness and fatigue washing over me. I almost felt sick to my stomach with exhaustion. "I don't mean to intrude, but... it's late, and I'm tired. I don't feel safe out there, not right now, not after this. Is there any way I could-" I asked haltlingly.

"Sleep here? Of course, you are a more than welcome guest," Erik said, gesturing to the beds by the wall. "Take whichever you prefer. You'll be safe here Jean. I promise."

I was so exhausted I crawled into one of the soft pods on the floor, the blanket still around my shoulders, and immediately fell almost immediately into a dreamless, restless slumber.