Chamber stretched out on his bed, and felt his muscles burn slightly. He hadn't realised how intense his workout had been until he wanted to relax. But still, the pain felt good. Gave him a release of sorts, and thats what he needed, and he didn't really know why.

Bobby shifted in his bed across the room. Chamber could tell he wasnt asleep. Chamber leaned on his elbows and looked over at him. "Bobby? Are you awake?"

Bobby turned over and nodded. "Yup."

Chamber paused before speaking. He wanted this to come out right. "Have you noticed anything...strange...about this new boy?"

"Sebastien?"

"Yeah."

Bobby sat up and shrugged. His brown hair was a tousled mess. "He seems nice enough. Why?"

"Just asking."

Chamber hardly ever spoke to Bobby during the day, much less when they should be asleep, so Bobby was already suspicious. "Do you think he's strange?"

"He's nice enough. He has a way about him...I dunt know..."

Bobby scratched his naked shoulder and nodded, although he didn't quite understand what Chamber was trying to say. "He seems to like Logan," he offered.

"Because Logan saved him. He's grateful, obviously."

"Logan's a good judge of character, Jono. And besides, do you really think he could keep a secret here?"

Chamber shrugged. He felt like a fool for bringing it up. "It's just that...None of knows what he's capable of. No one knows what his power is, or even if he has one. Why is he hiding with us?"

Bobby had no answer, at least, not one that would satisfy Chamber. He liked Sebastien. He didn't think there was anything to be suspicious about. "You know, it wouldnt kill you to start trusting people, Chamber."

Chamber laid back down and turned his back to Bobby. It signalled the end of their conversation.



Logan leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, head down, as he listened to Jean. Ororo and Scott were seated before the large desk in Xavier's office. "Charles has left the decision with me," Jean said in an even voice. She sat behind the desk, trying to look like she belonged there. "And I've decided that the boy is to stay with us. At least for now. Charles agrees with me on this. The situation needs closer scrutiny."

Scott leaned foward. "I wish you'd let me speak to him about this," he said. "This is foolishness. He's in Washington right now, fighting for this school, and this isnt going to help things."

Jean raised an eyebrow. "He left the decision to me. He agreed with my choices. Theres no need for further consulatation."

Ororo nodded. "I think its for the best, Scott." She put her hand on his arm. "For now, we let him stay."

"We can't let this school be exposed!" Real anger flared in Scott's voice.

"What," Logan asked from behind them, forcing everyone to turn, "Are you really afraid of, Cyclops?" He pushed off the wall and walked towards them, slowly, with purpose. "Afraid that the school will be exposed, closed down, and the whole world will come tumbling down? Life goes on, boy."

Scott stood up, his posture a sharp study in contrast to Logan's; bolt upright versus casually slouched. "Nobody asked for your input, Logan." His voice was low, but it did not affect Logan.

"The way I see it," Logan said, ignoring Scott completely, addressing Jean and Ororo instead. "This boy has nothing to do with the school's current predicament. Whatever happens from now, was started some time ago."

Jean nodded, and gazed into Logan's eyes. The look of admiration was apparent. Scott moved closer to the desk, tried to put distance between Logan and Jean. "Whatever. If the proffessor has given the OK, then I guess we keep the boy here for now. But when the proffessor returns, we're going to have a serious look at the situation."

Logan smiled and cocked his head to the side, looking at Scott with his cool blue eyes dancing.

"You're afraid of what he might be," he said softly, then laughed. "You're actually afraid this boy might be normal, god forbid. You are ashamed of being a mutant around a real human, isnt that right?"

Jean sensed Scott's reaction just seconds before it happened. The sound of his fist impactin on Logan's face was almost sickening. She closed her eyes, heard Ororo gasp, then the familiar sound of Logan's claws sliding out...

She opened her eyes to see Scott hurtling through the air, then hitting the ground with a thud. Logan landed on top of him, claws drawn, one foot on Scott's arm, pinning him down, his arm stretched back and ready to sink those claws into Scott's throat. Scott was grabbing for something with his free arm, writhing under Logan, his fingers splayed.

His visor had been knocked off.

Jean was momentarily speechless, her hands covering her mouth. But then she found her voice, and it came out too small. "Logan! Don't do it!"

Scott, his eyes squeezed shut, grunted, "Get off me, Logan, or so help me...."

Logan growled at him, his mouth set into a grimace. "Or what? You'll open your eyes? punch a big hole in my chest? We both know that I'd push these claws through your throat before the force really hits me." The words tumbled out of his mouth quickly, softly. Everyone in the room knew he spoke the truth, especially Jean.

"I don't...Want to kill you...Logan...."

"Issat so? Well, that makes you Weak." Scott felt the razor sharp tips of Logan's claws press into his flesh. He gagged.

Jean moved closer, and looked across the room to Ororo, who stood transfixed, unsure of what to do. She looked back down at the men, and frowned. Her anger boiled over. She felt her body tingle with it.

"Thats...Enough!" She screamed.

Logan felt his arm involuntarily pull back, then his entire body lifted off Scott. He was suspended in mid air, held by the force of Jean's mind. There was no point in struglling; like quicksand, struggling with telekenesis would lead to trouble.

Scott's visor lifted itself off the floor and traveled through the air to Scott's face. When his visor covered his eyes completely, His body lifted off the ground too. Jean walked towards them and looked up. "I'm tired of this!" She said angrily. "You both disgust me. I've seen six year olds handle conflict more effectively!"

She sighed and with an offhand gesture, she slammed their bodies together with brutal force, knocking both of them out. They fell to the floor limply,no longer held by Jean's power, no longer worthy of it. She looked at Ororo, who nodded her approval.

"I could have seen this coming," she said, and began to walk towards the door. "It's been brewing for months."

And she was gone.

Ororo looked at the mass of limbs on the floor, and then at the empty doorway. "I wonder, if you knew it was coming, why you didn't stop it?" But then, she knew the answer already: Jean wanted them both, needed them both in different ways.

The truth of it? She enjoyed them fighting over her.



Logan was the first to wake. The gash on his head had long since healed over, and the only evidence of it was a thin dark line of dried blood above his eye. Cyclops was still out cold.

Storm helped Logan up and sighed. "What was the purpose of that...display, Logan?" She asked, her irritation pinching her voice. "I thought you were wiser than that, my friend."

"So did I," Logan said softly, running his hands through his hair. "But I just couldn't stop myself from sayin' what I said. It was like something forced everything outta me."

"Could it have had something to do with Jean's presence?"

"Maybe, I dunno."

Ororo inclined her head and crossed her arms over her breast, her white hair veling both sides of her finely sculpted ebony face. "Whatever the case, this sort of thing cannot continue, Logan." She looked up at him breifly, daring him to say something. He stood silently, holding her gaze. "Its destructive in more ways than you can imagine. I would advise you both to think before you act in such a way, otherwise Jean won't be the only one you'll have to deal with."

Logan had never heard Ororo speak in such a way. She didn't like to make threats, so when she did, she meant them. He couldn't explain himself, couldn't justify his actions, and Ororo was right.



Graydon Creed stood over the boy, hands clasped behind his back, eyes fixed coldly on the boy's bruised face. The boy squinted and held up an arm to sheild his eyes from the light flooding in through the open door. The boy didn't know how long he'd been in the small, dark room with its hard cold floor, and he couldn't count the hours since the last time he was beaten by one of the gaurds. Dried blood crusted at the sides of the boy's mouth, and a large bruise bloomed on his temple, dark and angry. The boy whimpered as Creed grabbed him by the neck and yanked him up to eye level.

"Survival is trait that only the greatest beings possess," Creed said softly. "I am truly surprised that you have managed this long." Creed shrugged, his eyes never once leaving the boy's. "This could have been a lot less painful if only you'd have told me what happened that night."

The boy let out a little moan. "I told you, I...I c-cant remember."

"And I told you, I don't beleive you. Hence your punishment. And it will continue until such time as you do remember. I know this had something to do with that little mutie freak. I know they died because of their own stupidity. And so will you, if you don't begin to cooperate."

Creed dropped the boy, who fell into a heap at his feet. Creed sneered down at the boy.

"I honestly don't remember! All I can remember is waking up in hospital! Please!"

Creed cocked his head to the side, smiled mockingly. "Jeremiah," he said. "If only your father could see you now. Your father was a visionary, Jeremiah. He would be truly sick to his stomach to see how you've turned out."

Creed slammed the thick metal door behind him, leaving Jeremiah to the blackness.



Xavier smiled at McCoy as the big man sat at their table and ordered a chardonnay. McCoy wore a three peice suit and a red silk tie, and looked for all the world like he fit in, except he was three times the size of any man in the room. "I didn't think you'd come," Xavier said warmly.

"I almost didn't, to tell the truth."

"Oh?"

"You probably knew I was having doubts, and that I would come eventually," McCoy replied as he accepted the wine from the waiter.

"Yes, I knew."

The big man raised his glass to Xavier. "To old times?'

Xavier raised his glass and clinked it to McCoy's. "Old times."

McCoy sipped his chardonnay and sucked in a breath. "I came for old times sake more than anything else, Charles. I spent the best years of my life at the school. And if coming to dinner with the old prof shows my appreciation for that, I consider it to small a gesture for such an immense debt."

"You don't owe me, Hank."

"Oh yes I do, and I know I've been a terrible ingrate lo these past few years."

"You followed your calling, you fight the good fight, as it were."

"But not in the way the others are doing."

Xavier nodded. He knew that Hank felt like a coward for turning down his offer to become an X-man. He also knew that Hank doubted his worth as a fighter. He was better with words, more at home in a lab than in the thick of battle.

Hank adjusted his glasses and sighed. "And this hearing, do you think anything will come of it?"

Xavier held up his hands and shrugged. "The panel has no real power, it can only make reccomendations. But I beleive the powers that be will listen, and if there is an adverse finding...." Xavier stopped. There were no words that could describe his concern. He smiled, looked up at McCoy. "And I fear I already know what finding they will hand down."

McCoy frowned. "You think they've made up their minds? So soon?"

Xavier nodded. "The rest is a formality. Let the 'mutie lover' have some time to argue the point, let his views be spoken, then close his school down. I can hear their thoughts even now." Xavier closed his eyes and it seemed he would weep. "As a boy," he said, eyes still shut against the world. "I thought I would go mad. I could hear the lies, the hate, the hypocrisy of humanity, every day. Of course back then I couldn't control my powers. I heard every meandering thought waft by me as I walked down the street, heard things that a boy shouldnt hear. Then I learned that I could bend those thoughts to become what I wanted.Even wipe them out completely if I so desired." Xavier opened his eyes and looked at Hank McCoy. His eyes spoke of his pain. The most powerful psychic on earth. "And never have I ached to use my power in such a way until now. I wish to wipe these events from the minds of an entire population. I wonder what Erik would say to that."

McCoy wondered what Erik Magnus Lensherr would say to Xavier's admission. Lensherr, who the world knows as Magneto, locked away in a federal prison cell made entirely of plastic to prevent him from using his mutant ability to manipulate magnetic feilds, put there because he used his powers against the population. That Xavier was contemplating something like this was almost surreal.

Xavier smiled bitterly and looked away. "Does that make him right, Hank? Does that make a lie of everything I've taught those children?"

"Your cause is a great one, Charles. Never doubt that for a second," McCoy replied. "But perhaps, if your dream is to survive..."

"Ah yes. My dream. Humans and mutants living in harmony. Greater men than me have died for similar causes."

McCoy had never seen Xavier like this. He had no words of consolation for him, only a warm smile. Words failed Hank McCoy very rarely. Xavier's confession had shaken him more than he was willing to admit. His old mentor, this man who taught young mutants to be heroes, was as human as the next man, and his powers were his blessing and his curse. The reality dawned on him that this great man was a cripple, one of the most powerful mutants on earth, and tortured like no other being.

Xavier looked at McCoy with a wan smile. "I shouldnt have unburdened myself, Hank. I'm sorry."

"I'm glad you did."

Xavier finished his glass of wine and laughed softly. "Please don't be concerned. I've faced worse."

"I don't doubt it. But do you really think you have no other way..."

"No," Xavier said sadly. "I don't see any other way. As painful as it is, I have to protect my school. It is as simple as that."