The perimeter alarm beeped in Storm's belt. She jumped like she'd heard a gunshot. Not again. No, not again. They weren't ready. They couldn't do rounds like this. But it was only one beep. So whoever it was had come through the front gate, and had a pass and knew the code to do it. So they knew them. Or they ought to. They weren't expecting anyone. She got up. The door to coms room was ajar. Scott was in there.

"I know, just… just keep your heads down." He was on the phone to someone. "And to you. Goodnight." He put the phone down.

"Scott," She said. He turned. "Someone's coming through the main gate. The alarm didn't sound so…" He nodded once and got up to follow her, picking up what she recognized as his visor case from the desk. So he was expecting more trouble too, or dreading it.

Storm rolled her shoulders as she walked, starting to gather herself. She didn't want to fight right now, but if she had to, she had to. She and Scott stepped out in to the dusk. A car was creeping up the drive.

"Wait," Scott said. "That's-"

"That's Hank's car." Storm started down the steps towards him, Scott just behind her. Even at this distance, she could see the driver was a heterochrome. It had to be Hank. They didn't have to fight. It was okay. It was Hank. He stopped the car and got out. Storm walked straight in to his arms.

"Ororo. It's good to see you. I came as soon as I could."

Storm buried her head in his shoulder. "I'm so glad you're here."

"Charles said they sent eighty hired guns, and you held them."

"Not without cost." Scott said quietly. Hank let go of Storm and clapped Scott on the shoulder.

"Bobby Drake and Rogue D'Ancanto. Charles told me." Hank said. "But you think they're alive?"

"Jean says so."

Hank sighed. "Where's Charles?"

"He went to bed." Storm said. "Cerebro…"

Hank nodded. "Do you think he might still be awake?"

"I can check." Scott turned to walk away.

"And Jean?" Hank asked softly once Scott was back inside. "I… I know it's pointless, but I haven't seen her with my own eyes since…" Since Alkali Lake.

Storm nodded. "Inside somewhere. Come on."

,

They found Jean, eventually, in the infirmary. Logan was lying on the bed, a blanket over him, he was awake, but his pupils were pin-pricks. Jean must have doped him. He hadn't looked well earlier. Storm hadn't thought much of it, but maybe she should have done, the way he usually healed. Jean was cleaning up, her back to the door. There was a bucket with what looked like the better part of a gallon of foul water in it, and a few empty fluid bags. Storm frowned. What had Jean been up to?

She turned when she heard them.

"Hank."

"Jean Grey." He strode over to her and pulled her in to his arms. "I'm very glad to see you alive." He stepped back. "You know, if you'd been a day later, you'd have interrupted your own funeral. I was packed and ready to leave when Charles called me." Jean smiled for a second. "He could hardly get the words out to tell me you'd returned alive."

"You haven't met Logan, have you?" Jean said.

"No." Hank went and stood at Logan's right side and offered a hand to him. "Senator Hank McCoy."

"Hey." Logan made a poor attempt at shaking hands with Hank. "They let you be a senator?"

"I was elected." Hank said. "Can I help you here, Jean?"

"No I'm done. Unless you can think of a better way of dealing with a septic peritonitis than closed lavage when you can't keep an incision open."

"When you can't..?"

"His regeneration blows Mystique's right out of the water. He's amazing. I won't be able to keep an incision open long enough to achieve anything by laparotomy."

"So you just…"

"Filled him up, drained it off, until it came back clear."

"Hank." The infirmary door opened again behind Storm. The Professor came in, in his pajamas, Scott right behind him.

"You know," Jean said. "there is a sign on the door asking people to knock if I'm in here with a patient." Storm smiled, nobody else paid Jean any attention.

"I came as soon as I could. Tell me what I can do." Hank said.

"Pick up my physics teaching, that'll give me more time in Cerebro."

"Charles-"

"I can take it." The Professor said firmly. "I've done ten hour days for days on end before."

"That was a long time ago."

"I'm not doing stretches over four hours at the moment. I'm coping."

"Professor," Jean said quietly. "Do you think it's worth my trying?" The Professor hesitated. Scott frowned. "I did find Magneto before."

"And it nearly killed you." Scott said.

"I'm a lot stronger now than I was then." Jean said. "Let me try."

The Professor sighed. "Not tonight. But tomorrow if you're still willing, I will let you try."

,

Kurt was sitting at breakfast next morning, teaching Cat's Cradle to a couple of young girls, when he saw Logan come in. At once, Kurt could see the difference. He was no longer pale and sweaty, he stood straight and moved smoothly. Whatever Doctor Grey had done to him had worked.

And she saw it too. She got up and walked over to him. Kurt was too far away, and they were speaking too quietly, for him to hear much, but the content of the conversation was easy to guess. Logan was thanking her.

Kurt smiled. He couldn't help but think of Androcles and The Lion.

,

With hindsight, Charles Xavier thought, he shouldn't have let Jean attempt it. Cerebro was made for him and tuned to his mind. Even with a self-consciously malleable mind like Jean's, for anyone else to use it was very, very difficult, if not impossible. She'd started well, she'd taken a good overview, the problem had come when she'd tried to focus it, to work through mutants in a certain area. She'd shrieked and thrown her mental barriers up so fast he hadn't had time to assess the damage. She insisted she was fine. He trusted her, he'd spent his energies on Cerebro rather than trying to prove the woman he almost considered his daughter a liar. She'd seemed alright later. Other than Bobby and Rogue, the X-men were recovering well. Kurt was limping about on a crutch, and teleporting often, whatever had ailed Logan had passed, Jean must have managed to get his regeneration working again. In a matter of days, the X-men would be ready to fight again.

So all that remained was for him to find Bobby and Rogue.

,

Bobby sat curled in the corner of the room. Eight feet by ten, the door looked like it opened inwards. Eighty tiles on the ceiling. Bare breeze block walls, which had been painted with something impermeable, lino floor with something harder underneath, he had made ice to stand on to inspect the ceiling, but there was no getting through that either. Any ice he'd thrown at it had just bounced off and broken. And now the floor was wet with melted ice. The cold didn't bother him, it hadn't since he'd shown his power.

They'd stripped him. Before he'd woken up, they'd stripped him and put him in a hospital gown, with nothing else, nothing underneath it.

He'd been caught. Like they'd tried to do to Logan, and that skinny little boy, and John and Mystique… But they'd got away. Bobby had actually been caught. Whatever they'd wanted to do to Logan, John… they'd probably already done it to him. That thought made him feel sick. He had no idea what they wanted him for, what they'd already done to him. He didn't feel right.

Maybe it was just hunger and tiredness. Bobby didn't know how long he'd been in here, it felt like a day or more. The light hadn't changed at all, there weren't any windows. But he hadn't been given any food. They hadn't given him any water either, but he had a way round that. Just freeze vapor solid and eat it. He'd been told that eating ice wasn't good for you, but he didn't have any other source of water. He was too scared to sleep. There was a plastic bucket in one corner for him to pee in, that was it. He hadn't seen anyone, he hadn't heard any signs of life.

He'd shouted for Rogue to begin with, but he didn't think anyone would be able to hear him through these walls.

Bobby shuffled, so a different bit of him was in contact with the floor. He'd been caught. He'd been caught and he could not see a way out.

,

Jean heard Scott come in. She kept still, kept her breathing as even as she could, kept her eyes closed. She heard him close the door. She waited. So did he. She could have reached for his mind, persuaded him that she was asleep. She didn't dare. She didn't dare touch her power.

Scott moved. She heard him changing for bed, the clink of his belt, the rustle of his clothing. Jean kept very still. She didn't want to be spoken to; she didn't want to be touched. If Scott thought she was asleep, he'd probably leave her alone.

She felt the blanket shift on top of her, then Scott's weight settled in the bed behind her. He was on his back. She was curled on her side, facing away from him. He sighed deeply. She kept her breathing slow and rhythmic.

She had to hold on. She couldn't let anything distract her. She could feel power surging and swirling inside her. She had to hold on. She had to be stronger than her power. Never let it control you. And now Scott was falling asleep behind her. She had to protect him from it. She had to stay strong. It would pass, she knew it would, it always did, but she had to fight it. For everyone's sake.