AN: Here we have Jean allowing Charles liberties of the mental sort. This is a bit disturbing, but I'm sure y'all are not surprised :)

Thank you so much for the reviews! I hope you enjoy this new chapter!

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Chapter 11

Jean sat cross-legged on the comfortable sofa, her eyes closed. She was listening intently to the murmur of the Professor's voice, trying to calm herself down and relax enough to begin her exercises. It wasn't working very well—they'd been at it for nearly twenty minutes, and still she hadn't been able to make herself concentrate.

"You're tense, Jean—is anything the matter?" His voice was quietly concerned, and he spoke aloud rather than telepathically as if he didn't want to intrude upon her thoughts.

"I—" she took a deep breath, wanting to lie and say everything was okay, or tell him she was just tired. She didn't want to tell him about her last argument with Scott, or how she'd almost lost her temper with Bobby and Amara in training, or how she was having these horrible dreams where it felt like her head was going to explode from the pressure…

"I think I'm having trouble adjusting," she said suddenly, looking at him nervously.

"Adjusting to what?" he asked, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. "Not that you're wrong, of course, but I merely want to get to the specifics."

Jean paused for a moment, sort of wishing she hadn't brought this up, wishing she'd just said I'm tired and left it that. Not that he'd have believed her, but he would have left it alone. "I just—things are so different. My parents are angry about college, and the others still see me as one of them and not as an authority figure, and Scott—" she shook her head briefly, a little uncomfortable discussing that with him.

"Ah. Your parents—well, we knew they might not appreciate what you were doing here, the importance of your work. I'm aware that the situation is stressful for you, and anytime you wish me to speak with them I am more than happy to do so. And as for the students—" he smiled briefly "—I believe they have similar thoughts about all of us, Jean. Even me."

She smiled at that. "I always saw you as an authority figure. I still do." For some reason, that made her blush.

He laughed. "Perhaps that is merely a matter of our age difference."

"That doesn't work for Rogue," she said with a wince, thinking of the girl's continued resentment of Magneto, which seemed to have grown worse in the last few weeks.

Something strange flashed across Charles' face at that. "In time, perhaps that will straighten itself out. We've done all we can without crossing ethical boundaries and forcing them to get along, as much as that might be a relief at this point."

Jean gave a weak laugh at that and nodded, looking down at her hands, which were twisted together in her lap. Should I tell him about the nightmares?

He spoke again, hesitantly. "Jean—I know this may be a bit uncomfortable, but do you wish to discuss what problems you are having with Scott? Perhaps I can be of some help."

Jean looked up at that. "I—it's not that I don't think I should tell you," she said earnestly. "It's just that it's sort of hard to explain." She swallowed. "Maybe I could just…show you."

"If you're certain—I don't wish to intrude on private moments." At her startled look, he smiled. "I'm aware I live in a house full of young people, Jean."

She smiled back at him but closed her eyes again. "It's okay. It's not anything…personal, not really." Still she was blushing, a little, as she spoke of it. Just look, tell me if I'm being too hard on him…

If you wish.

Jean concentrated on her and Scott's last argument, which had been about where to go out on Friday night. That wasn't really the problem—it was his lack of decision-making ability that bothered her. She knew very well Scott could make decisions in the heat of battle, so why couldn't he just pick some place to go to dinner?

It was more than that, though. There were moments between them that her restlessness grew worse, that she felt almost guilty at how much she could sense he cared for her. What if what I have to give him isn't enough? She felt sometimes like she was drowning, under both the obligations she had and everyone else's expectations of her, and it was horrible and scary and why couldn't she just be safe…

Jean.

Startled, she opened her eyes, staring at Professor Xavier as she fought to control her suddenly rapid breathing. "What's wrong with me, Professor?"

He moved closer to her, reaching out to take one of her hands in his own. She felt herself relax immediately at the touch. "Jean, my dear, you're being too hard on yourself. You have the same doubts and fears that anyone has in a new relationship." He squeezed her hand lightly. "I do remember the feeling, surprisingly enough."

Jean squeezed his hand back. "I know. It's just—everything seems chaotic and I don't like that, and---" she shook her head, expelling a breath. The whirlwind her mind had become began to slow a little. "I'm sorry. I know you need me to be strong."

"You are," he said softly, and her gaze was caught by his. "I know it was difficult, when I was serving Apocalypse. I am aware of how dangerous my powers can be if left uncontrolled, and the point of these exercises is so that never happens to you. Jean—will you allow me inside of your mind for a moment?"

She gave him a confused look. "W-what do you mean?"

He patted her hand once more before removing it. "I would like to take a look at your powers. A mutant check-up, if you will. I need to see how much of them are still latent, and when we may expect them to arise."

She sat back on the couch, wondering what had brought this up and more than a little scared at the thought there was more power in there somewhere. "All—all right," she said slowly, unsure why this made her nervous. Perhaps it was the serious way in which he approached it, as if she were harboring some dangerous ability that would kill them all in two seconds flat and had no idea it was there. "Will it—will it hurt?"

"Not physically, though there may be some mental discomfort," he warned her. "Just relax. I promise I won't be peeking at things I shouldn't."

She nodded and settled back into the cushions with her eyes closed.

"Good. You'll be able to feel me in your mind; try not to fight me. You must trust me that I'm not going to hurt you. The instinct to fight back against my intrusion may be quite strong, and I need you to hold on as long as possible."

"I trust you, Charles," she said immediately, then her eyes flew open. "I mean—Professor," she corrected herself.

He smiled. "You may call me Charles, my dear. After all, you're no longer my student."

Jean closed her eyes again and tried to relax. Strangely, the first tentative push of his mind into hers helped her to do that, as she'd always found his presence a comfort. Her tense muscles un-knitted and her head dropped back onto the back of the sofa.

Very good..

Her fingers uncurled on her lap as his praise continued to soothe her further. I thought I was supposed to fight? Her mental-thoughts were drowsy, serene. Jean thought she might fall asleep.

You will.

After a few moments, something began to tickle at the back of her mind; it felt the same as when she had a spider or a fly on her skin, an annoying little itch that she wanted to brush away. She didn't want it to be there, it was ruining her sense of peace…

Jean forced herself not to mentally swat him away, reminding herself that it was him, that she trusted him…. As it went on, however, she began to lose her sense of relaxation and peace as he pushed further, harder, into the core of her very being.

The feeling began to grow worse, and Jean began to feel panicked. She wasn't aware of what her body was doing on the sofa, but mentally she was squirming away, trying to push—

No, Jean, just a bit more, I promise--

She was making small whimpering sounds, crying out, wanting to scream. It was like he was shoving himself, his very essence, deep inside of her mind and no, that wasn't supposed to ever happen, this was hers, her power, and he couldn't touch it, no one could, and—

Her power surged, sudden and without warning, drowning her in a sea of red and orange and pain so hot she thought she was burning—

She was screaming when she opened her eyes. She was also levitating in the air a good six feet above the sofa, her arms splayed, staring down in horror at the Professor.

"Please!" Jean cried, unsure what she wanted, watching as objects began to swirl around the room. All she could remember was when this happened before, when she'd gone haywire….

You can stop it, Jean. Do as I say—stop the objects. Use your will.

Jean concentrated hard, returning the books to their shelves and the pens to Charles' desk with her telekinesis. Slowly she began to put the room to rights, and as she used her powers she felt her control returning, felt herself calming down enough to complete the task.

Good. Very good. Now return to the ground. That's it…

She lowered her arms and ended up standing in front of him, her legs shaking. She reached out tentatively with her mind, wanting to know that he wasn't angry at her, and what she found made her collapse to her knees in front of him, her face pressed to his knees as she trembled uncontrollably.

He's afraid of me!

She felt his hand in her hair, stroking gently as she sobbed.

It's okay, Jean. Everything will be okay. I promise.

"W-what happened? Is something wrong with me? What—" she raised her tear-stained face to his, crying even harder at the look on his face; desolate, sad, as if he'd lost someone very dear to him.

"Shhh, now," he murmured, his hand still moving gently on her hair. "You are fine, Jean. I've always known you were a powerful mutant, and this was just confirmation. What you are sensing is merely my concern that you learn to control your powers before they fully manifest."

At that, she raised her head again, her wide eyes searching his. "You mean—my powers haven't fully manifested?" Her fingers curled tightly into the material of his pants.

"No," he said quietly, shaking his head. "I won't lie to you. They have not, and they are quite strong. Stronger than you may realize, even now."

"Oh, God," she whispered, moving away from him to huddle with her back to the couch, arms wrapped around her knees.

"Jean, listen to me," he said firmly, and at his tone she forced herself to look at him and to listen to what he was saying. "This is not uncontrollable, do you understand? You'll have to work hard, but you can do it."

"When?" she whispered, biting her lower lip. When is it going to happen?

He blinked at her, confused. "When is what going to happen?"

She was too upset to say it aloud. When will they manifest? My powers? Will it be like before, when Rogue had to stop me? Should you lock me away? Will I kill you all--

"Jean, stop this right now. It won't be like before, because you and I will work on it until you are able to control it. It may never come to pass that all the power inside of you will manifest; I simply don't know. However, I do know that when it does, you will be prepared. And you will not kill anyone." He held a hand out to her.

Jean stared at it for a moment. "Y-you promise? You promise I won't kill anyone, hurt anyone?"
Tentatively, she placed her hand in his, allowed him to help her rise.

"I promise," he said firmly, his voice full of conviction. "I would not allow that, Jean, surely you know that."

She began to relax, just a little, at his certainty. "Yes. I know." She took a deep breath and wiped her eyes, sitting back on the couch again. She felt weak, drained, and she moved so she was lying on her side with her arm curled underneath the pillow.

"Would you like to have a nap? I have some work to do, and I believe Scott is running today's simulation, so you should be free until dinner." He had moved closer to where she lay on the couch, and he reached out to gently smooth her hair away from her flushed forehead.

Jean felt her eyes slide close under the caress. Do you mind if I nap here, while you're working?

Of course I don't, my dear. Rest well. I shall wake you before dinner.

Jean smiled, warmth surrounding her like a blanket, feeling safe and protected. That's all I really want, you know. To be safe.

I know.

She felt herself growing more and more relaxed as she lay there, the quiet of the room soothing her frazzled nerves. Everything would be all right. He wouldn't let anyone hurt her.

No, I won't let anyone hurt you. Not even yourself.

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Miss Information: Hee! Yes, please write more! I read Inappropriate Conduct again today. I want you to write that sequel! And thank you, I am glad you enjoyed the M/R. And no "rocking my world" puns, EVER. My Kitty would get up and leave him there, all uncomfortable and apologetic. Ha. And I do think that interaction with Wanda and Rogue would be hilarious...I laughed out loud at work when I read your review. Hee!

RG Marie: Thank you! I am glad to hear you like the pairings, as they are quite unusual! Hope you enjoy the new chapter!

Munchlette Belle: Thank you! I love those two, I really do. I figure I need one happy, functional couple in this story. Thanks for reading!

mylovetheswamprat: Why thank you! I'm so pleased you are enjoying the story! Hope you enjoy the new chapter.

Nercia Genesis: Thanks! And there is more Magneto and Rogue in the next chapter, promise. Thanks for the review!