Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Jean opened her eyes groggily. Her head pounded and she felt ill. Worse, she had no idea where she was and no idea what she'd been doing.

Come on Jean, think…

There had been a phoney party at the mansion so that the Brotherhood could capture the Friends of Humanity, then something had gone wrong with the sprinklers. They had been soaked in Pow-R-8 and then – what? She had followed Rogue into the kitchen and that was the last thing she remembered.

It didn't look like she'd passed out though. She was sat upright and she didn't recognise the room she was in. It looked like some kind of meeting hall, but was currently empty of people as far as she could see. Besides, if she'd passed out it was unlikely that anyone in the mansion would have secured her hands behind her back. Except maybe Lance, but that would be a mutual decision.

Her head still felt strange though and it took a few seconds to work out why. As a telepath, she could usually feel the minds of others even when she didn't want to, sense their thoughts and their whereabouts. Blocking out thoughts was harder than reading them. But now her mind felt empty, devoid of the background noise that signalled the thoughts of others.

Tipping her chin down, she felt something hard and unwieldy around her neck. Some kind of a collar. She knew she hadn't been wearing anything like that when she went to the mansion, which meant that some one had put it on her since she lost consciousness.

Trying to project her thoughts was pointless. She tried several times and managed to achieve nothing but making her headache worse. Somehow, her powers were being blocked.

Jean felt a movement behind her and tensed, ready for an attack – then a voice she recognised spoke.

"What was ah drinking last night?"

"Rogue?"

"Jean? Am ah the only one who can't move?"

"I wish. Are you wearing a collar?"

"A collar? Don't seem to be."

"There's a collar around my neck, I think it's blocking my powers."

"Ah don't have one, but don't get your hopes up. Nothing' but mah face is showing. Ah'm wearing a coat over mah dress and ah wasn't showing' much skin anyway."

"Damn!" Jean tried to look around, but saw nothing that would facilitate their escape or even give them a clue as to where they were. The only thing she could tell for sure was that she and Rogue were back to back, both tied to chairs, which in turn were tethered together. "I can't get a message to the others and there isn't anyone around. We're screwed."

She heard Rogue try blowing some hair away from her eyes. "If some one comes in, we might be able to take them anyway. These chairs are only wood, we should be able to break 'em."

"Leaving us still with our hands behind our backs," Jean remained her. "How long before anyone notices we're gone?"

"Not long," replied Rogue. "After the fight, the others would come back and check on anyone who'd been poisoned and that includes us. What ah want to know is, does whoever took us know we can be traced?"

"We have to assume that they do," said Jean. "So they want us for something else."

"Like what? They want to leave our corpses to teach the others a lesson?"

"That's cheery."

"Or maybe they want us for bait. They might be luring the others into a trap."

"I don't think so. Whoever took us must know that the X-Men are trained for fights and if they know about the Brotherhood, they might know about them working for SHIELD."

"So why the hell are we here?"

"Because of me." The strange voice came from the direction of the door and both Jean and Rogue strained to look. The man entering was tall, dark haired and wore sunglasses in spite of the darkness outside. He looked vaguely familiar to Jean and after a moment she placed him; Lance had shown her his picture and asked if she'd seen him around. She never had, until now.

He didn't seem interested in Jean however. He walked around until he was addressing Rogue, leaving Jean only able to listen in.

"I've been wanting to meet you for a long time."

"Who the hell are you?" Rogue sounded confused and angry, not a good combination.

"Graydon Creed."

"You're Mystique's kid," said Jean.

"No!" Creed walked around to Jean and got in her face. "I'm not! I cut my ties with her when I realised she was a freak of nature! Just like you people!"

"Cutting your ties with a person doesn't mean that you're not their child," said Jean, knowing she was only antagonising him and hoping she remembered enough of her Danger Room training if things got ugly.

"That's where you're wrong," said Creed. "I realised years ago that I was the only person around who knew the truth about mutants, long before they were exposed. I've been put on this earth to do something about atrocities like you."

"Something like what?"

"I'm letting people know about the threat you pose. I founded the Friends of Humanity and every day the number of people who believe in what we do grows. Mutants cannot be allowed to live."

"So you're my big brother," said Rogue sarcastically.

"I am NOT your brother!" Creed went over to Rogue, looking as if he were thinking of hitting her and deciding against it. "You were adopted! You are NOT my blood!"

"But Mystique and Sabretooth are," said Rogue. "Why did you come after me and Jean then?"

"I didn't," said Creed petulantly. "Anyone would have done. I was hoping for that blue-furred freak but you came along first."

"You're just pissed because he's really your brother," said Rogue with a smirk. "What would your Friends of Humanity buddies do if they knew the truth?"

"SHUT UP!" Creed punched Rogue in the ribs, protected from the pull of her powers by her clothes. Jean heard her gasp and narrowed her eyes, momentarily forgetting about her lack of powers and attempting a psychic message to Lance.

"I'm human," said Creed. "And you're not. You have to be eradicated!"

"This isn't really about mutants at all," said Jean, trying to get him away from Rogue. "You've got abandonment issues! It's quite sweet really."

"What are you talking about, freak?"

"Well, Mystique wouldn't have ditched you if you were a mutant and now you want to take it out on anyone who is a mutant!"

"Trying to psychoanalyse me tied to a chair, Dr Grey? I didn't know that was your area of expertise." Creed wandered away from them and looked out of a window. "We'll be having company shortly."

"You have no idea," muttered Rogue.

"Who?" asked Jean suspiciously.

"Some of my associates," replied Creed. "The most senior members of the Friends of Humanity, to see for themselves the results of the collar you're wearing Dr Grey."

"That's what's blocking my powers," said Jean.

"Works well, doesn't it? We've managed some test subjects before but none as powerful as you. When we introduce these to the world, I anticipate they'll become the law within a few years. You'll have to wear one all the time, so you might as well get used to it."

"Not that she'll get the chance," interrupted another voice from the door.

"Ah, you're here. At last." Creed gestured to the door. "These are my colleagues. Guy Spears, as you know, is the genius behind Pow-R-8."

"Some genius," snarled Jean. "Did you know that Pow-R-8 is also toxic to humans in large doses?"

Spears, flanked by five other men, shrugged as the group walked into the room, the door swinging closed behind them. "Wouldn't matter if it was. I have the antidote."

"You have the antidote? How?" Jean strained to make out the faces of the men behind him and gasped when she recognised one of them. "Andy?"

Andy Johnson, research assistant at Jean's lab, grinned widely at her. "I warned you about getting involved with that creep from SHIELD. How do you think I knew this would happen?"

"You know this puny little shit?" Rogue sounded incredulous.

"He works in the lab," said Jean wearily. "He was the one who found out that Pow-R-8 is poisonous to humans too."

"That's not strictly true actually," said Andy. "I replaced the sample of Pow-R-8 with another version that Mr Spears cooked up. Affected human blood, but the kind that's on sale doesn't. Your research is about to be discredited when the Government scientists replicate your study. You're screwed Jean."

"But why? Why would you do that?"

""Because I believe in what the Friends of Humanity do," replied Andy. "I could keep an eye on you and make sure that your research into Pow-R-8 got nowhere with my job in the lab. And my knowledge was invaluable when we created the prototype of the collar."

Jean glared at him. "I trusted you and all the time you were sabotaging us? Were you responsible for the attack on the church? Or the café?"

"I authorised them," said Creed. "But none of us were directly involved. You can't prove anything."

"Innocent people were killed!"

"They were mutants!"

"Your own parents were mutants!" Rogue tried to whip her head around to better see what was happening. "You have a brother and a sister, both mutants, and that doesn't mean anything to you?"

"She's lying," said Creed coldly.

"We know you couldn't have been in the mansion," said Jean. "You must have contaminated the water supply at the plant with Pow-R-8 and that we can prove."

"That substance isn't harmful to humans," said Andy. "A court ruled yesterday that attempting to kill mutants isn't a crime. It was an employee acting on their own without the knowledge of Mr Spears; at least that's what people will believe. There's nothing you can do Jean."

"So what did you bring us here for?" asked Jean. "To gloat? To test your new toy?"

Creed smirked. "We know the collar works now. Frankly, we have no further need for either of you. The X-Men will try to find you. We know that. But by the time they get here, we'll be long gone – and so will you."

Jean watched Creed pull a gun out from a holster beneath his jacket and began trying to turn her head around, knowing there was only one thing left to do and praying that Rogue had the same idea. Unless she could somehow manage to make skin contact, they were both dead.

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"Nice neighbourhood," said Wanda as they cruised slowly down the street behind Logan, who was periodically lifted his visor to sniff the air. "Is he even sure we're going in the right direction?"

"He better be," muttered Lance, who was wondering the same thing himself, in between recriminating himself for letting Jean out of his sight. Knowing that he'd had no choice and that events had conspired to give them a huge stroke of bad luck didn't make it any easier. Creed had killed before and there was no reason for him to keep either Jean or Rogue alive.

Please don't let us be too late…

Logan swerved his motorbike to the side of the road and Lance did the same, followed by Gambit. They killed the engines on the bikes and watched as Logan sniffed the air.

"They went in here." He indicated to a nearby building, a two-storey members bar that was closed, protective shutters down and covered in graffiti. Other local businesses were also closed and at least two of them were boarded up. The only open shop was at the end of the street, but there was a faint light from the top storey of the members club.

"Some one's up there, that's for sure." Lance checked out the building. "Wanda can you get us in?"

"Easy." Wanda touched the shutter over the door and it disintegrated under her fingers, having used her hex powers to age the metal hundreds of years in an instant. The door it hid was locked, but a swipe of Logan's claws took care of that.

Before they could set foot inside, they heard shots coming from upstairs.

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Staring down the barrel of a gun wasn't a new experience for Jean, but it wasn't something she'd been afraid of before. Her powers could block bullets with a protective shield, or change their direction so they lodged harmlessly into walls.

Without her powers, it might be the last thing she ever saw.

She whipped her head to the right wildly and Rogue had the same idea, leaning backward and turning her head. Normally it wouldn't have worked, both girls had long hair which they'd worn down that night – but the Pow-R-8 that had rained on them earlier had dried their hair into sticky clumps down their backs and there was nothing blocking their cheeks from touching. It was only for a moment, but a moment was all it took. Rogue's powers took effect, draining Jean's telekinesis even though Jean couldn't use it. Rogue on the other hand had no collar on and no such restrictions.

Rogue couldn't see Creed from her position but she knew it was only a matter of seconds before he pulled the trigger. The knowledge spurred her into action, using Jean's powers to pull the two chairs across the floor and out of the line of fire. A split-second later Creed pulled the trigger, the bullet flying through the air where Jean had been moments earlier.

"Get them!" Creed opened fire at the girls and Rogue managed to put up a force field to protect them – but she knew she had a problem. It took all of her concentration just to keep them from being shot and she wasn't familiar enough with Jean's powers to do two things at once. The touch had been only brief and she was afraid that the telekinesis might wear off before she was able to free them.

"Jean, ah've got a problem here!"

"You've got to get us free. Just try to envision the ropes. You've got the force field up, you don't need to think about it too hard." Jean was feeling woozy herself after touching Rogue but she knew she couldn't afford to pass out. That would be as good as suicide.

"I think I've got it!" Rogue concentrated desperately and Jean tried to refrain to tell her to hurry up. The other six men were pulling out their own weapons and there was no way Rogue could concentrate on keeping up a shield that strong and be able to free them too. And there was no telling how long Rogue would retain the telekinesis.

The floor began to shake.

The men stumbled, trying to keep their footing. Jean smiled in sheer relief. There was only one person who could do something like that…

The door flew open and in stormed Avalanche, pissed off and looking for a fight. He spied Creed trying to keep his feet and grabbed him, throwing him backwards against the wall and laying into him with his fists.

Spears aimed his gun at the door only to be distracted by a glowing playing card flying toward him. He ducked just in time; the card exploded and Logan, Gambit and Wanda burst through the door.

With an inarticulate roar, Logan went after the men, taking two bullets in an arm before he was on them, splitting Andy's gun in two and knocking him to the floor. He lashed out with his claws and the men scattered.

Gambit headed over to Rogue and Jean, using his powers to burn through the ropes that bound them. Rogue stood up and threw her arms around him for a moment before standing back and pretending she'd just been caught in the moment. Gambit smirked and headed back into the fray.

Jean headed over to Wanda. "Can you give me a hand with the collar?"

"Sure." Wanda released her hold on one of the men she was holding with her powers and disintegrated the collar beneath her touch. "Better?"

"Much." Jean gave a grim smile. "And if that was the prototype, it was probably the only one. Shame."

She turned and looked at the scene. Most of the Friends of Humanity were down, Creed lying in a foetal position against a wall, Andy not seeming hurt but staying down anyway. Spears was still upright but only just; his gun had been sliced off at the barrel and was tussling with Gambit. Logan was glaring at his arm, watching it heal and Wanda was cuffing a couple of the guys lying on the floor. Jean had a chance to wonder where in the skimpy party outfit Wanda had kept the cuffs when she saw Lance coming toward her.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her tightly. "Did they hurt you?"

"They tried," she said shakily, leaning her head on his shoulder. She noticed Creed attempt to stand, grabbing the gun he'd dropped when Lance attacked him.

"Look out!" She formed a force field around herself and Lance as the gun went off, the bullet bouncing harmlessly off it. Wanda threw a hex-bolt at Creed and the gun exploded. Creed yelled as shards of metal burned into his skin.

"Shit!" Lance turned and glared at Creed, nursing his injured hand, before turning back to Jean. "No fair. I came here to save your life!"

"You did," replied Jean, reaching up to give him a soft kiss.

"Can we save it for later you two?" Wanda glanced over at them, trying to look stern.

"Sure, yeah." Lance kept one arm around Jean and ignored Logan's glare, reaching for his comm.-link. "Quicksilver?"

"Finished at the water plant," said Pietro over the link. "Lots of Pow-R-8 in the system, had to turn off the whole towns supply. And SHIELD back up just got here; they're looking for prints. How are things there?"

"Under control." Lance glanced over as Wanda cuffed Creed none too gently, ignoring his pleas about his injured hand. "Got our co-ordinates?"

"Yeah, there's a team on their way. Bayville's overrun with SHIELD operatives, Kelly's gotta be hating that."

Lance allowed himself a grin at the smug tone in Pietro's voice. "I'll wait for them to get here, then I'm taking Jean home."

"But – but Fury wants us to report to him in an hour…"

"So report to him. Tell him to call me in the morning." Lance shut off the comm.-link as the sound of heli-jets was heard outside.

"Are you insane?" Wanda shot Lance a startled look. "Fury'll go insane!"

"I'll deal with Fury," said Logan. "Take Jean home."

Jean looked at Logan in surprise and Rogue laughed. "Ah think you're going soft."

"Don't push it Stripes," growled Logan. "Cajun, take her back to the mansion and check on everyone else. I'll wait here."

Jean pulled Lance out of the door before Logan could change his mind and start being awkward, looking down at her skin stained by Pow-R-8 and hair stuck in wild clumps. "It's a good thing the effects didn't last all that long. But I can't wait to get into the shower."

"Me either," said Lance ruefully, glancing down at his torn suit.

"I don't think there's that much hot water."

Lance shrugged, smirking. "I'm sure we'll be able to think of something."