Authoress's notes: is anyone still out there? I'm getting reviews... but not many -sniffsniff- I hope you're still reading – cos I'm still writing, and I'm not letting you go until I finish this story! -hehe-

Reviewers' Response:

the littlest weasley – glad you like!

Pyromaniac – hehe, cliffie!

chelsey-pudge – yep, X-Men to the rescue!

Pyro Lady – this chapter will answer part of your question... I hope

xImmortalx – you know, I do believe you're right.

Chapter 17: Flashback

As Storm and Cyclops handled the jet, Amanda told Xavier and the rest of the X-Men what had happened while she was in the Brotherhood's headquarters. Xavier asked her for specific details of what Magneto had said. She told him all she remembered, frowning at the though of what they planned to do with her blood. She shook her head, pouting. "I still don't understand why they had to pick me."

Xavier said, "The main reason is probably because of your telepathic powers. If Magneto planned to amplify and use them to kill everybody who is not a mutant... I suppose that's also why they needed your blood, so that Brian could copy your powers. I do wish we could have gotten it back from them."

"What, this?"

Everybody save Storm and Scott turned to Logan, who pulled a small vial full of blood from his pocket. He had simply shoved it into one of the pockets of his suit after taking it from the unconscious mutant before he'd gone to find Amanda, not giving it a second thought until now.

Amanda grinned. "Logan, you're a genius!" she cried, and flung herself into his arms. He blinked for a moment, before shrugging and handing the vial over to Xavier, then folding his arms around her.

"First time I've ever gotten that reaction over a vial of blood," he chuckled. Amanda grinned up at him and detached herself from his arms, going over to Kurt.

"I owe you too, Kurt. If you hadn't teleported in there..." she gave him a fierce hug as well, and a quick kiss on the cheek. He smiled and held a hand to the cut on her arm. It had stopped bleeding a long time ago, but it needed tending to.

"You should do something about this, Liebchen," he said.

Rogue, who had awoken a while ago, came over. "Aw, what happened?" She held her ungloved palm up to the cut, being careful not to make contact with Amanda's skin. Suddenly, a hallow of light sprang up around her hand, and the wound closed, seeming to zip shut on itself. Rogue removed her hand, eyes wide. "What did I just do?" she asked quietly.

Kitty came up to Amanda and took a good look at her arm where the cut had been. Smooth, unscarred skin was all she saw. "Cool. Rogue, this is like the White Lighters' healing power on Charmed!"

The occupants of the jet burst into laughter. Amanda smiled, sitting between Logan and Kurt, glad to be among friends again.

-X-

Everyone was happy to see Amanda again. Hank insisted she stay a while in the medic bay, claiming he wanted to check her over one last time. He also took the vial of blood off Xavier, storing it safely for later testing.

"Really, Hank, I'm all right –"

"I know, I know. You're fine. Now, I want you to go to your room. Take a nice hot shower and get into bed. Keep warm; that room you were in was too cold. You may not feel it just now, but your body's been chilled severely. I'm surprised you didn't get hypothermia yet."

Amanda chuckled. "All right, Hank. Goodnight."

He smiled at her as she left. "Goodnight."

Oh, and Hank? Beast heard her voice echoing in his mind. "Yes?" he asked the empty laboratory.

Thanks.

-X-

"Mr. Wagner?"

Kurt turned to the young woman beside him. "Guten Abend, Fräulein. Are you not tired? It is late."

Rogue shook her head. "Nah. I just haven't been able to get any sleep. Why are you here?"

Kurt shifted his position on the bench in the garden, crouching on the toes of his feet and rubbing the beads of his rosary between his fingers. "I came out to pray."

"Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you –"

"Hush, meine Freundin," he smiled. "You have not disturbed me. I have finished my prayers.

Rogue smiled back hesitantly. "Okay."

The pair sat in silence for a while, looking at the diamond-littered sky. Kurt wrapped his tail around the arm of the bench and focused his gaze upon the stars, while Rogue took some time to study the teleporter himself.

She had yet to figure him out. He was a strange one indeed. He never blamed God for his condition, his mutation. He accepted his blue skin and tail, deformed fingers and toes, golden eyes and fangs – all this, he accepted with no complaint. Not only that – he actually believed that everything happened because it was God's will, and she knew he had even prayed for the souls of Stryker's men who had tortured him and used him. He prayed for the souls of every living person in the world, and for the souls of every person who had ever died in the wars and disputes between mutants and normal humans.

She sighed. Kurt had joined the X-Men immediately after the events of Alkali Lake. He had taken a special liking to Storm, but soon enough he realized that she simply needed comfort for the loss of her best friend, almost sister. Kurt had been there for her – for all of them. She knew he'd talked to Scott. He'd caught him walking around the Institute's grounds one night a week after Jean's death; he'd cornered him and managed to somehow convince him that he had to take some time to grieve and mourn, but then he'd have to get over his loss.

She'd never seen Scott cry. She wondered if he even could, with his eyes and all... She'd cried a fair deal. Everyone had. Even the Professor had nearly broken down, putting his head in his hands and turning his wheelchair around so no-one could see his face. Storm had cried. She and Bobby had cried. Jubilee had cried, Artie had cried, Jamie had cried – everybody had. And Kurt, stranger as he may have been, had comforted everyone.

He'd arranged games for the younger children – baseball and basketball and football. He'd amused the kids with acrobatic tricks and juggling feats that none of them had even seen on television. He'd tentatively asked Xavier if he could join the Institute's staff, and offered the idea of starting a pottery class. The classes soon became everybody's favorite, though it was not mandatory. The professor had offered him the positions of Latin and German, and Kurt had gladly accepted. He'd also managed to convince Logan to develop a combat/self-defense/martial-arts/fencing class – which had also quickly become popular among the students. Nobody ever wanted to be captured and used for mutant experiments like had almost happened with William Stryker's men.

The one person Rogue hadn't seen cry – was Logan. In fact, she'd hardly seen him show any emotion at all. He'd disappeared a while after returning to the mansion only to return each time and pretend nothing had happened. She knew how he felt inside, though – all the times she'd absorbed his powers and his mind made her feel the same way. Sometimes she felt as though he were inside her completely. She knew he'd always be a part of her. Literally.

She sighed. In the three – nearly four – years that she'd known Logan, she still hadn't figured him out either. The time they spent together wasn't exactly quality time, but it always made her smile to think of him. He was the first she had ever told about her powers – her curse.

"What troubles you so, Fräulein?"

"Huh?" Rogue broke out from her revive to Kurt's golden eyes looking into hers. "Oh. I – I was just thinking..."

"What about?"

She sighed again. "My curse."

"Your curse? What curse is that, Fräulein Rogue?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "You know, my skin? Unable to touch anyone without draining them of their life-force? I've got so many peoples' minds in my head; I don't know who I am anymore."

Kurt smiled at her. "You thought you were cursed by God?"

Rogue nodded, head in her hands. "It's infuriating."

Kurt placed a hand on her sleeved shoulder. "God has blessed you this time."

She turned her tear-stained face to him. "W-what?"

"There, there," he wiped the tears from her face with his sleeve. "Never cry over who you are. Once you thought you could only hurt. But now, Liebling, you can also heal."

"Yeah, but –"

"And you have healed many people already, even before tonight."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"After the death of Doktor Grey, the whole school was in turmoil. And I saw you, every night. Every night you sat with somebody else, crying with them, letting them cry upon your shoulder, comforting. It is a role that suits you."

She looked at him with wide eyes.

"The power to heal is within us all," Kurt said, wiping away traces of tears on her face. "All it ever takes is a few words, or an action. Never be afraid of who you are, Fräulein. Now you can help."

"You're right," she repeated. "Now I can help." But first, I have to check this out.

-X-

Amanda took a long shower, just as Dr. McCoy had instructed, but for some reason she just couldn't sleep. So she dressed in a warm pair of sweatpants and a woolen sweater some nameless old aunt had once knit her, and headed for the kitchen.

Peeking into the large kitchen, she felt her eyes widen. The room was dark, but she could see Rogue quite clearly, seated at the table with her gloves off and a sharp knife in her hand. She gasped silently as Rogue drew the knife across her finger, hissing as blood began to seep from the cut.

Then Rogue stuck her bleeding finger out, and carefully held her other hand above it. The same light that had hallowed her hand on the jet now surrounded her palm, and the small cut closed over itself, leaving behind only unscarred skin. Rogue smiled to herself and went to the sink, washing the knife and putting her gloves back on.

"Rogue, what was that?"

Rogue spun around. "Amanda?"

Amanda stepped into the kitchen, saying, "Yeah, it's me."

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" Rogue gave her a half-smile.

Amanda shrugged. "Couldn't fall asleep. What were you just doing with that knife, Rogue?"

"Oh. Well. You remember what happened on the jet? When I – when I –"

"Healed my arm? Yes, I remember."

"Well, I had to try it again. Think about it, Manda," she pulled her glove off, showing her her finger. "Look, not even a scar! I may not be able to touch people randomly, but now if I focus then I can actually help!"

Amanda looked warily at Rogue's hands. "I don't know, Rogue. Why don't we go to Professor Xavier, or to Dr. McCoy?"

"Oh, all right. Is Hank still up?"

-X-

"Hank?"

Amanda and Rogue entered Dr. McCoy's laboratory, Amanda smiling.

"Amanda, aren't you supposed to be in bed? It's five in the morning; aren't you even a bit tired?"

"Nope." Amanda grinned brightly. "Adrenaline keeps you pumping way after the danger's over; then after a few hours you collapse."

Hank chuckled. "Is anything wrong?"

"Well, that's what we need you to determine. You see, something happened at the Fortress and Rogue..."

"I can heal now, Dr. McCoy!"

"Oh?"

"Yeah! Come see." Rogue looked around. "You got a knife or a needle somewhere around here?"

-X-

Scott tried to sleep. He did, really. But it seemed that sleep would not come tonight and fold its embrace around him. Images of Jean kept flashing in his head. It had only been a day ago – even less. In the gym... she'd looked exactly the same as she had before she died: same face, same eyes, same red hair – but then, for Scott, everything was red. Red... the colour of love. But also the colour of blood. Of hate.

Hate. He had seen it. Seen it in her face. Seen it as she hurled objects and people aside using telekinesis, seen it in the way she looked down at the children. She'd looked him straight in the eye ... and Scott had seen no trace of the love he had once seen there, over three years ago.

Phoenix. She called herself Phoenix now. Jean was gone; instead, all that was left was this woman who wore her face. But Scott knew that, no matter how much he denied it, this was Jean, and she was alive. And a member of the Brotherhood. On Magneto's side. Against him. He remembered seeing her in the Fortress as he searched for Amanda, Storm at his side...

"Storm. Let's check in here," Cyclops reached for the door on his left. Storm nodded and Scott opened the door. Nothing, apart from boxes. "Okay. Let's go."

As they rounded the corner, Cyclops and Storm saw someone at the end of the corridor... two someones. Pyro – and Jean. Storm gasped. "Jean?"

Jean turned, her short hair whipping around her face. She smirked at them. "Come to save your friend?" she mocked.

"Jean, is that you?"

The woman held her head up high. "Your Jean is dead. I am Phoenix. I died, but fire revived me. I was reborn in flames."

Pyro looked at her, eyebrows raised. "Where did you come up with that?"

She smirked at him. "Kelly."

"Ah. That would certainly explain the dramatics." He cupped his hands, sending a ball of fire at the two X-Men. Scott and Storm dodged in opposite directions. Scott rolled to his feet and reached up to his visor, sending a bright-red beam at Pyro, who cried out as he was hurled to the side. He quickly got up, though, and sent a huge fireball at them. Storm called up what dense air there was in the corridor and formed it into a whirlwind, which lifted Pyro off his feet.

Phoenix glared at Storm, who had allowed herself to be picked up by the air currents and was hovering several feet in the air. Phoenix narrowed her eyes, and without warning, Storm was sent crashing to the ground. Cyclops rushed to her side, horrified at this change in his Jean. As he helped Storm up, Phoenix flung her hand out, and he too was sent crashing against the wall.

Storm glared at Phoenix. She had been shocked at first to see Jean here, on the Brotherhood's side, but now she was just plain pissed. No-one threw her against a wall. She stood up, cape billowing out behind her in a fierce wind, her eyes crystal white. Electricity danced around her, and as she raised her hands, two bolts of white-hot lightning hit the two Brotherhood members.

"Storm, don't!"

Storm turned her white eyes to Scott, indignant. "She's not our Jean anymore, Cyclops. Accept that. She's our enemy, and we have to rescue Amanda." She laid a hand on his shoulder. "Let her go. We have work to do. They're both out cold. Don't worry, it wasn't a harsh shock. Just knocked them out."

Just then, the earpieces buzzed, and Logan's voice echoed in their ears: "Guys, she's on the seventh floor."

"Let's go." Storm grabbed him by the arm and pulled him down the corridor. He stole a last glance at Jean's prone form on the floor before they rounded a corner and she disappeared from view...

And now he lay turning over in bed, thinking how foolish he was to have ever lost her. If only he'd resisted the potion Stryker had used on him... Jean wouldn't have been hurt, and would have arrived in the jet in time. She wouldn't have sacrificed herself to save them, because they would have made it...

He heard Kurt's words in his head: "No use can be found dwelling too much on the past, Herr Cyclops. You must move on."

He had answered angrily: "What do you mean, move on? You want me to forget her?"

"No, no. You must never forget her. You must let her go, however. Keep your memories, treasure them. But let her go."

And he had let go. And he had lasted three years. Three years he had let Jean be, and went back to teaching his students. He devoted himself to his life at a mentor, a leader and a teacher. He had built up strong walls, to block out anybody who tried to understand his emotions.

And all of that was shattered in an instant by the face of Jean appearing that night in the gym. A single look, and he felt his throat close up. His heart constricted with love and desire, while his mind clouded in confusion, even as Pyro – also a harsh blow, his old student joining Magneto's side – and Shadowcaster filled the large room with a cloud of shadow and smoke.

And he'd let her go. He'd missed her that one glance in the gym, but he'd had another chance at the Fortress. And he'd missed it, too.

Not again. He'd get her back. But first, he had to take care of someone else.

Authoress's note: hmmm. What could Scott's plotting? (I'm not too sure myself, so go ahead and guess!) Review!