"You going to tell her?" Logan asked, once he'd finished his toast.
"No." Hank said. "I think speed will be our greatest help here."
Logan doubted that. She could read minds, after all. "So what do you need me to do?"
"Hold her steady, just for a second, so I can get it in to her."
"Right." Logan said. He had a very bad feeling about this.
Logan went in first. Jean looked up at him, then down again. He kept walking towards her. She was breathing fast, but no faster than she had been all night. He kept walking. He heard Hank move behind him. He crouched and put his arms around Jean's torso. She didn't resist. She sort of went limp in his arms, let him pin her arms to her sides. Hank had better hurry up. He didn't like this at all. This felt wrong. He could hear Hank walking up behind him.
She screamed. She screamed like a woman tripping off her head on drugs and writhed in his arms. He held her tighter. She clawed at his side and slammed her head in to his shoulder. He ignored her. She kicked out at Hank, but she didn't really hit. Hank bared his teeth, but didn't stop reaching that needle towards her.
Then she really went.
She burst from Logan's arms with a strength that seemed to come from nowhere. Hank flew back in to a wall, shouting, in shock or pain Logan didn't know.
"Jean!" Logan clawed after her.
It felt like being hit in the chest by a train. Logan flew through the air and in to the opposite wall. He barked in pain. Only pain. It would pass. It always did. He'd be able to breathe again in a second. He fell to the floor. He coughed. It tasted of blood. He'd be okay. He forced himself to look up, felt the bones in his back and chest click back in to place. How hard had she thrown him?
"Did you think I wouldn't know?" She asked, her voice was barely above a whisper. She was facing Hank, her back was to Logan. Hank was still pinned up against the wall, feet six inches off the floor, panting. He was still holding the syringe in his hand. She flexed her fingers. Hank's fist began to open. Hank roared, he seemed to be fighting her. She shook her head. "I'm stronger now." The syringe floated in the air between them and turned to dust. "What are you going to do, Beast?" She dropped him, then slammed him back in to the wall. He shouted again.
Logan had to do something. He staggered up. She'd stop him. Surely she'd stop him. She was too strong even for both of them now.
"You're a parasite." Hank said. "I'll only speak to Jean."
She gave a shriek of anger and dropped him. Logan dived on her, slamming her to the floor underneath himself.
"Go! Run!" Logan shouted. Jean shrieked in anger, but didn't throw him off. He grabbed her wrists and pulled them up behind her back. She kicked and writhed, spitting at him and the floor. But Hank had made it to the door. Logan kept his weight on her. "Calm down."
"You piece of-"
"Still not letting you go."
Then she threw him. He tumbled over sideways, crashing head, hips, shoulders, elbows in to the floor.
He came to rest against the wall in a heap. He'd weather this. She'd have a hard time killing him, and she had calmed down pretty quickly before. Right now, it just hurt. He kept still. Hank had got away. He just had to take the hits. There was no sense in trying to fight her, but she'd have a hard time actually killing him. He'd be okay.
He waited. There was a soft gasp from the other side of the room. He kept still. He heard her coming, running towards him. He drew himself in to a ball to shield his head.
"Logan." He heard her, smelled her, close at hand. "Logan." She dropped to her knees beside him. "Logan, I'm so sorry, I-" She was crying again. "I couldn't stop her. I'm so sorry." Logan started to push himself upright. Ouch. It'd stop. It always stopped. He grimaced. "How bad-?"
"I'm fine."
"I… I knew what Hank was going to do, I didn't want to fight him, but… She got so strong. I couldn't hold her."
"It's okay." Logan said. What else could he say? She clearly wasn't doing this on purpose. Jean wasn't a violent creature, even against The Brotherhood she wasn't that violent. She only did what she needed to. And no way in hell she'd have attacked Scott on purpose. "That's why it's me in here, I don't die so easily. Those won't even bruise."
,
Logan had no idea what time it was. It had to be night, he'd been given three meals now, just let out of The Danger Room for five minutes to eat, then straight back in. He hadn't slept at all, he didn't dare take his eyes off Jean. He was so tired. He knew he had to keep her awake, so he couldn't sleep either. They'd been undisturbed for a long time. The Phoenix hadn't done anything since Hank had tried to drug her. It was quiet. But Jean was very unsettled. She sat down, stood up, knelt, paced, turned around, jumping as though she was startled by voices Logan couldn't hear.
She'd been on her feet for a while now, pacing, fidgeting, just… it was exhausting even to watch her. But then she stopped. She sighed deeply and walked over to him. She dropped to sit on the floor beside him, back to the wall.
"You okay?" He asked.
She shrugged. "Just about." Well maybe that was a good sign. Logan was starting to think that the other one, the phoenix, felt better than Jean did right now. She wasn't being too optimistic, so she was probably Jean.
"Is she still-"
"Yeah, she's struggling." Jean swallowed. "But I'm okay right now."
"Good."
They sat in silence for a few minutes. After a while, Jean relaxed against him, her head resting on his shoulder. Logan frowned down at her.
"Hey." He twitched to jostle her.
"I'm awake." She said. But she sounded… slow. As though she'd been half asleep until he'd spoken or something.
There was another long silence. He kept his eyes on her, she kept looking straight ahead. He could see the rise and fall of her chest.
"Do you dream of me, Logan?"
"What?"
She looked up at him. "Do you dream about me?"
Logan looked away. "You can read my mind." So didn't she already know?
"You know we don't do it without asking."
So maybe she didn't. Maybe she had that much control over what he saw. Logan drew a breath slowly. "After Alkali Lake, yeah."
A smile flickered over Jean's face. "I know about those. I meant…" She shifted to look at him more directly. "Do you dream about me?"
Why did she want to know what went on in his head when he was more than half asleep? It wasn't as though any of it would ever happen. She was Scott's woman to the core.
Jean smiled. "Now you're making me blush."
"I thought you said you didn't-"
"I didn't need to read your mind."
Logan drew a breath slowly. "The Professor says it a lot. We're-"
"I dream of you." She cut him off. And he sure as hell hadn't been expecting her to say that. "When I'm lying next to Scott, I dream of you." Scott's woman to the core, or maybe not so much. "He doesn't know." She looked away again. "He wouldn't… He doesn't see it." She shifted. So she wasn't content with Scott. So maybe he could…
She laid a hand on the side of his head and drew his face towards hers.
He pulled back. "Woah, hold up." She'd been going to kiss him. Jean Grey, Scott's woman to the core, had tried to kiss him. Well this was new.
"Don't pretend you don't want to."
"It's-"
"You've always wanted to, right from when we met."
"This is not a good time."
"We're alone." She said. She was kneeling facing him now. "We're going to be alone together for hours. No cameras in here."
"Jean, you're not well. You know you're not."
"I still know what I want."
"Look, let's… let's talk about this once you're fixed, once you're through this."
"I'm not gonna survive it." She said. "He's going to kill me. When Xavier looks properly, he'll find it's too extensive to fix, then he'll kill me. He just doesn't want to face up to the fact that he has to kill his little protégé to stop The Phoenix."
"No. Don't say that."
"It's the truth. I want to be with you before I die. What are you afraid of?" Logan had no idea what to say, so said nothing. Surely Xavier wasn't going to kill her, and what the hell was he afraid of? She was right, he'd wanted this for ages. Now she was offering –
No, hang on. She was sick. She was really sick. But she wanted him, and he wanted her. What was wrong with that? He wasn't scared of Scott.
But this just felt wrong. Jean was completely devoted to Scott. Or at least she'd seemed it. Perhaps she wasn't so easy to read. Perhaps he'd just been missing her signals. And what the hell was he afraid of?
Well, she'd thrown him around like a rag doll about twelve hours ago, that was kind of scary.
"Are you afraid I'm stronger than you?" She drew closer. "That you can't handle me?"
He wasn't scared. He was strong enough to handle her.
She drew closer again, daring him to look away. He wasn't scared. She couldn't hurt him.
"You know you want to." She breathed. This felt wrong. Somehow, something here wasn't right. But he just –
She pulled him over, with that same, surprising strength. He caught himself before he landed on top of her. She still had hold of his shoulders. She kicked her feet up and crossed her ankles behind his back. This was fast. This was weird. She raked her fingers down his arms, hard enough to break skin.
"Jean-"
"Logan."
"Jean, stop." He pushed himself up, off her, back on to his heels. She'd joined her legs behind his back, so she came with him.
"You want to."
He did. He had since the moment he'd met her. But this wasn't right. This felt all wrong. This wasn't her. She pulled herself up on to his lap.
"Not like this." He pushed her back.
Somehow she was stronger. She shoved him on to his back. His head cracked back against the floor. Ouch. Was he bleeding?
She dropped herself on top of him. He got an arm between his chest and hers and tried to push her away. He'd told her to stop. He'd told her he wasn't comfortable with this.
Jean had ignored him telling her to stop. Something clicked in Logan's battered head. This wasn't Jean. This was the other one. The Phoenix was trying to jump him. He barked in fright and threw her off. He leaped to his feet. She got up too. She'd gone very still. She was staring at him like a wolf. He'd have been less scared by a wolf. She was going to hurt him.
She gave a high shriek and threw him across the room. He was flying. There was nothing he could do.
His head hit the wall first. He knew nothing more.