Yay, a new chapter! Thank you everyone that's still hanging in there with me, my muse is working very sporadically these days. And before you read, please don't flame me for how I treat the mental linking. Enjoy!

Chapter 17

Logan lay flat on his back, staring up at the darkened ceiling of the Danger Room. "Where the hell have you been, Summers?" he barked as Scott, Jean and Storm all clamored through the security door. Xavier glided in after them.

"The program wouldn't respond to the shut down command, and you apparently couldn't hear me over the intercom," Scott replied flatly.

Jean knelt down next to her injured teammate, a disturbed look marring her beautiful features. She noted the three almost-healed puncture wounds lined up on Logan's stomach. "Did you do that to yourself?" the doctor queried, already half-knowing the answer in her mind.

Logan sat up and fixed Jean with a piercing stare that, like always, made her think he might be a telepath as well. Or it could just be the fact that everything she felt showed on her face. Scott constantly said she would be a terrible card shark. "Nooo," Logan answered slowly, the fire in those hazel eyes igniting. "Vixen did. But you know that, don't you?"

Xavier moved to Jean's side and placed a firm hand on her shoulder. "Jean has a theory, Logan. Come, we need to talk."


I ran blindly, panic making my feet numb and clumsy. Gotta get out, gotta get out! My inner voice was not quite so cheerful anymore. But how? Trapped in the corridors of my own mind, another horrific memory behind every door, I felt lost and utterly hopeless. Best to stop running. Yes, yes, just find a quiet place and stay there. That way they can't hurt you. No! Gotta keep moving! Gotta get out! They're right behind you! They WHO! I realized I now I was a killer, a conditioned, cold-blooded assassin, but for what purpose? Who were the sick, evil bastards that had done this to me? Overwhelmed, unable to go on alone, I crumpled into a corner and threw my arms over my head, shielding myself from the past and remembering no more.


"Could you run this by me again? 'Cause it sounds like some seriously messed up business." Logan paced the length of the medical suite, muscular legs carrying him across the span so quickly that Jean had to turn herself in circles to keep up the conversation.

"I felt you being stabbed. When I saw the memory in Brianna's mind, I could feel your presence as well. The link you two have is apparently much, much stronger than first realized. By purposely bringing your memories into sync with hers again, I believe…we…" Voicing the theory that only the Professor had realized before now, the doctor's confidence faltered. "We believe you can guide her back."

Logan paused next to Xavier, who was monitoring Brianna's mental activity with a carefully neutral look of concentration on his face. If anyone could pull this crazy mission off, he knew Charles was the one. The wheelchair-bound mutant had mental powers that surpassed just telepathy. "Ok. What's the plan?" Wolverine turned to his teammates, including Nightcrawler who had joined them in the med lab.

Jean let go the breath she had been holding. Getting Logan to agree to this experiment had been the most dreaded hurdle. Now the teamwork clicked into place. "We'll use the Danger Room again. I will bring your memory back to the point you last saw Brianna and…"

"Could we forgo the skewering this time?" Logan asked with a grimace.

A nervous chuckle escaped Jean's lips. "Sure, I think I can manage that. Now, the Professor and I will link up and we will bring your and Brianna's memories together. Synced up like that, with your bond being as strong as it is, you should actually be able to interact with her. Scott will be monitoring physically from the control room, and Kurt will be on standby to teleport you out if anything goes wrong again." Nightcrawler gave a nod of agreement from the corner he had perched himself in.

A general murmuring went through the team, details being discussed in earnest. Charles voice cut through the conversations, commandingly urgent. "We must act immediately. I've just lost her."