When Xavier arrived at the front door, he was unsurprised to observe that Logan was holding Mystique in position with his lethal adamantium-coated claws. "I got the bitch for now, Charles," he snarled. "I'll kill her on your say-so."

Xavier could see that. He sent a brief mental probe to Mystique's mind, even knowing of her resistance as he did - and discovered to his surprise that it penetrated easily.

She was still human, after taking the ‛cure' meant for Magneto. Still Raven Darkholme.

And she was not intent upon mayhem. Far from it. Her most dominant characteristic right now was...desperation.

Raven said the last words Wolverine had ever expected to hear from her:

"Help me, Charles. Please help."

Logan was so astonished his claws automatically retracted. He was stunned to see - no, surely not! - tears in her eyes.

Tears? From Mystique?! What the fuck?!

"Logan," Xavier said quietly, "I believe it would be prudent to hear her out first. Not to be too pragmatic, but you may always kill her later, should she prove to be a threat. But to be frank, it would appear she harbours no such intention."

Wolverine was too discombobulated to argue.

Xavier's Study

Shortly after

"Perhaps you would like some tea," Xavier suggested. He was surprised to see she was trembling as if from cold, though the mansion certainly was warm enough.

"Thank you, yes, please," Raven shakily agreed.

"Ororo?" Xavier inquired.

Wary, Storm protested in a low voice, "Charles, you of all people know we can't trust her! She is -"

"- only human at present," he interrupted mildly.

"She has no reason to trust you, either!"

That, Xavier knew with pain, was all too true. He remembered the first night they'd met, he a mere boy and she a desperate runaway fugitive. They'd studied together within the fabled dreaming spires of Oxford. Oh, such dreams he'd had, and the promises he'd made her...all of which, he remembered sadly, he had ultimately broken. He'd unintentionally driven her towards Erik, and his attitudes which, at the time, he hadn't realised were as racist as those of the Nazis he had so despised. What you despise, you become.

"True. But it is not a question of that. Ororo, I am well aware of your reasons, and I agree it is a risk. Yet I must help her."

Ororo asked, uncomprehending, "You must help her? Why?"

"Because she trusted me once...and I let her down badly. I will not do so again. Her powers were formidable, I agree, but they are gone - and she lacks the willpower to restore them as Erik did. She is vulnerable right now - and we as an institute are obliged to respect that vulnerability by our own policies. To do otherwise, to turn her away now owing to past negative experiences, is to prove ourselves hypocrites. I refuse to answer to that charge. Therefore, please serve us some tea and toast, if you would."

She frowned, disapproving, but moved to comply. Logan had his claws sheathed, but held his hands at the ready in case they were needed.

But Raven showed no signs of hostility. Instead she appeared near tears. She thanked Xavier and Ororo for the tea and toast Ororo cautiously served up.

"Now," Xavier said pleasantly, "we must deal with our situation. But precisely what is that situation, might I ask?"

Raven sipped her tea and inquired, "You're a telepath, Charles. Don't you already know?"

"You should remember that I choose to employ my ability only when necessary," he pointed out. "It is far more polite and civilised merely to ask. Unless you tell me, I cannot help you - which, you may recall, is what you asked me to do."

"An' it better be good," Logan warned.

"Still thinking with muscles instead of brains, Logan?" Raven tried to taunt him, but it fell flat. "I am no threat to you right now, or ever. I am asking you - asking - for your help. I am desperate. Please help me," she beseeched Xavier.

Logan sniffed carefully, testing her scent - but he could detect only Raven's own unique scent, nothing mutant whatsoever. "Be damned," he breathed, "she don't smell like a threat at all."

"Could that be perhaps because I'm not a threat?" she cried. "I'm only human now! I'm not even armed! And I'm nowhere near as athletic as I was in my mutant form! I'm no threat to you! That's not why I'm here!" She started crying. "I...I don't have anywhere else to go...I don't have anyone else to turn to...please, you have to - to help me..."

For the first time since the night they'd met, Xavier felt only sympathy for the crying, pleading figure before them. "Logan," he requested softly, "please stand down. Raven is indeed no threat to us. Even you should see that, even after your admittedly traumatic past with her. Allow her instead to explain why she is here, and give her the benefit of the doubt for once."

"Last time we trusted her," Logan felt constrained to point out, "she and Magneto tried to get you to destroy humanity."

"All too true," Xavier conceded, thinking ironically, Is every doubter going to bring that up? "But things have changed. We must respect that and allow for it."

Logan looked doubtful, but then he sighed and loosened up. "Okay. For now. But if she tries anything, I'll make a kebab outa her."

"That seems only fair," Xavier allowed.

He was about to offer Raven a tissue, but Alison took charge, giving the tall woman a gentle hug. She answered his look by saying, "I'm a counsellor, Charles. Consoling crying people is what I do, for a living and as an empath. C'mon, Raven, tell us," she gently coaxed. "Or me, at least. We never met before, so you know I'm not your enemy in any sense. I'm Alison McEwan, I'm new here. So. What brings you here? Why are you so upset?"

Raven sighed and dried her tears, thanking her for her help. "I used to be a mutant. I took syringe darts meant for Erik - Magneto -"

"Yeah, I've heard of him," Alison nodded.

"- they were filled with this ‛mutant cure' the humans came up with. Now I'm human. I have to adjust to wearing these clothes," she spat the word as if it were a vile curse, "to being cold all the time, to being the same shape all the time...and I can't! How do you stand it?" she cried. "Once I could be anyone, anything, and now I'm only -" she abruptly stood and stripped, "- this!"

"Whoa," Logan said. Even he was unsettled. Xavier raised an eyebrow in surprise.

Alison looked at her lithe, lush figure and said gently, "Raven, without any bias at all I can honestly say that by human or mutant standards, you are physically beautiful. There are women who would kill to have your figure. I've met some. I have to say that a full bush like that," she indicated Raven's pubic area, "is rare, but a nice change from bald beaver. Myself, I go for a Brazilian look. But for the sake of the students, would you please get dressed, even just your underwear? I know you hate it, but they're just kids. Please?"

Raven briefly looked as if she would refuse, but relented as she recalled that several of the students were teens...and male. The thought of being taken advantage of...she shivered anew. "All right." Reluctantly, trying not to cringe as the fabric touched her skin, she put on the brief underwear and dressed again.

"That's good," Alison told her kindly. "Please drink your tea and tell us why you're here. Do you need something?"

Raven sighed. "I do, yes. I need to become a mutant again. I need you to get this shit out of me, or reverse its effects, or whatever. I...I can't live like this. I've tried so hard. But every morning...you've no idea. No idea how hard it is for me to...dress. I never wore clothes as a mutant, I never needed to - my body temperature was a bit higher than the human norm. I went naked partly as a statement, partly as rebellion, partly because I didn't give a damn, but mostly because it was more comfortable for me.

"But now...I have to wear clothes just to get warm enough, and even then I feel cold. I never know what to wear - there are too many choices. Even the feel of them...to me it's repulsive. But if I go naked I attract too much attention - especially male attention." She shuddered. "When I was first changed and I tried walking around as a naked human, I was nearly raped a couple of times. I dress in self-defence."

Alison quietly confided, "Raven...I've been raped."

Even in her misery Raven looked surprised. "Didn't you sense him coming? I feel that you're a telepath."

"A late developer," Alison admitted ruefully. Then again, she was very glad she'd never been able to sense his thoughts, crude, violent and lust-filled as they had doubtless been. Oh, she'd much rather not have been raped, but getting into Carlson's head...brr. Six of one, and all that.

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Alison smiled. "I wasn't trying to provoke anyone any more than you do. I was seventeen, and although I'd made love a few times I really wasn't sure of what I was doing. The creep who used me just picked on someone who was young and couldn't defend herself - not then, anyway. It was horrible, and it hurt. But I got mad and fought back, and I damn near killed him - I would have, but two guys helped me out, as they saw it, and dragged him off me.

"So believe me, sweetheart, I do understand. I learned from a Guardian Angel - I was studying in my home state of California at the time - how to defend myself. Even by the Angels' standards he was unconventional...I learned some really dirty tricks from him. But I've never had to use them because I learned self-confidence at the same time. Plus I was lucky enough to start with a late growth spurt and I put on six inches in height. So any guy who tries to rape me, human or not, will be in so much trouble."

"Good for you," Raven murmured. "So...can you help me? Will you?"

Alison put her arm around Raven's shoulders and squeezed sympathetically. "I know Charles will try his best. But right now...I feel that you're very tired. So you get some sleep and we'll discuss it. In the morning we can start to pursue it. Okay?" She squeezed again. "Raven, I know you hate confessing to weakness. But right now you really are only human, and as a human you have limits. You need sleep. Believe me, as an empath I can feel how tired you are."

Raven sighed again. "Sadly, you're right. I've come a long way. Charles," she entreated, "for the sake of the friendship we had, I'm asking - I'm begging - for your help. It must be possible to reverse what was done to me - Erik did it." Again her eyes pleaded with him. "Please."

Diplomatically he said, "Well, it can wait until you are rested. I will discuss the matter with other members of my faculty. In the meantime -" Kitty, he mentally called, would you escort Raven to our guest quarters, please?

Kitty popped her head out of a wall and ventured uncertainly, "Um, isn't she a bad guy?"

"Not at the moment, Kitty. For now she is a dispossessed person who needs our help. Please help her settle into guest quarters and then return to your own affairs."

Kitty emerged from the wall and conceded, "Okay. Raven? This way."

"Thank you for at least not turning me away, Charles," Raven told Xavier. She followed Kitty out of the study.

They soon reached the guest quarters. Before opening the door Kitty warned, "Listen, you try anythin' and as small as I am I will mess you up, got it?"

Raven sighed a third time. "Kitty, even if I were in the mood to fight, which I'm not, right now I am so tired you could probably beat me even as a human. I just want to sleep. I swear I won't be any trouble."

"You'll forgive a kid like me for not trustin' your word," was Kitty's cynical rejoinder.

"Then attack me," Raven suggested dully, "see how well that goes down with the Professor."

"Ooh, you got a point there," Kitty wryly admitted. She paused. "Wait...you're really serious, aren't you? You really do need help."

"Desperately," Raven confirmed tiredly. "I've nowhere else to turn. I don't know who else to trust. But I do know I can trust Charles' word. I knew him before you were born. Believe it or not, we were the best of friends. It's a very long story."

"Wow," Kitty said, impressed. "I'd like to hear that some time."

Now Raven smiled. "I promise I'll tell you. But tomorrow, please. I..." she yawned, "...I really am tired."

"Okay," Kitty nodded. "G'night."

Raven opened the door. "Good night, Kitty, and thanks." She went in and closed the door. Stripping again, she debated having a shower...but she decided the bed looked far more inviting, flopped onto it and barely managed to cover herself with the thick, lovely duvet before sleep took her.

Xavier's Study

Whilst Raven is settling in

"Well. Opinions? Even without telepathy I already know yours, Logan," Xavier reproved.

"Then why ask?" Logan returned.

Xavier barely smiled. "I was asking everyone, not just you."

Logan shrugged. "Fair enough."

"We should not help her," Ororo opined sharply. "If we do and she regains her powers, she becomes as dangerous as before. We cannot know what her agenda will be then."

Alison disagreed. "Ororo, have you ever hated what you are? She does. To her, being human is tantamount to a death sentence. If we don't help her she will almost certainly kill herself -"

"Best all round," Logan grunted.

He wasn't prepared for Alison's angered slap. "Logan, in my career I have dealt with suicide cases! I have tried to talk people out of suicide - and once I failed! I didn't realise it at the time, but through my empathy I felt her die! I don't ever want to feel that again! I will do everything I can to save her, and I'm asking for your help - all of you! - to do that!"

"Hey -"

"She is in despair!" Alison appealed to them all. "She is perilously close to that dead-end state of mind in which suicide, the afflicted person believes, is necessary! Raven has been violated in a cruel and unusual way, and if we can help her, by the Hippocratic Oath I truly believe we should!"

"You don't know what she was like before!" Logan argued. "She was a killer!"

"And just how many wars have you fought in?" Alison demanded. "How many people have you killed?!"

"That was different -"

"Oh, just ‛following orders', yeah, that's original -!"

"ENOUGH!" Xavier actually shouted out loud. They were so startled at his raising his voice - his actual voice, not his telepathy - that they stopped arguing instantly. "I will concede that you all have a point. However, one thing you have not considered is the basic question: can we in fact help her? Is it in fact even possible to revert her to a mutant state? If it is not, then this entire discussion is moot!"

There was an embarrassed pause. Then Logan sheepishly admitted, "Hadn't thought o' that."

Somewhat shamefaced, Alison murmured apologetically to Logan, "I was out of line there. I've dealt with soldiers and PTSD before, too. A soldier kills, but he's usually not a killer. The ability and/or willingness to kill doesn't make you a killer, Logan. I'm truly sorry I said that."

"You didn't, not really," Logan returned, accepting her apology. His eyes said: Make it up to me in bed.

I will, her own eyes promised him.

"I too apologise, my friends," Ororo said. "I allowed my past experience of Mystique to colour my judgement. But this is Raven, not Mystique. Perhaps she has changed in terms of her personality, too. I forgot that that was possible." She turned to Xavier. "I also forgot the question of physical possibility. Can we, in fact, change her back, Charles?"

"I would suggest we consult an expert on the matter," Xavier answered. "Fortunately we have someone who is an expert on practically everything." He contacted a student, not Kitty this time, to ask Ian for his advice. Shortly Ian, eating one of his custom-made power bars (as deadly to others and as nutritious to him as his special drink - both actually bore the warning ‛Do NOT consume this unless you are Ian Holloway!'), arrived at the study, and Xavier posed the question.

"Mmm," Ian ruminated. "It depends on exactly how the treatment works. Please note that I avoid calling it a ‛cure' because the mutant strain is not a disease." He snorted. "Whatever Trask might think to the contrary. I'm looking forward to putting that little pipsqueak in his place, to be honest. How dare he think of us as an aberration just because we were born with capabilities different from the human norm? He's a dwarf, so he's different. Total hypocrite.

"Key question: does the treatment alter a mutant's DNA structure, or does it just switch a few genes on or off and/or suppress them? If the former, then I see little if any hope. If the latter - switching or suppression - is the case, then reversion is doable. I discount the fact that Erik did it - that might have been an exception that proves the rule. We can't know for sure unless and until we obtain statistics from everyone who's had it, voluntarily or not, plus a sample - it can't be obtained, deduced or derived from the blood, tissue or DNA of ex-mutants.

"For that matter, the very question of choice may be relevant. Some people want to be free of the mutant strain, like that poor Blue Ghost kid. She wanted to be human. Maybe her desire to be human facilitated the process. Here we have Raven, newly human, who is desperate to be a mutant again, i.e. going the other way. But is the desire enough? Our best bet is to ask Hank and Warren Worthington II - they probably know."

"Then we shall do so tomorrow," Xavier decided firmly. "For now, thank you for your input, my friends."

As they were leaving, Alison sent a private telepathic message to Logan: I feel like ravishing you, you hunk. Wanna fuck? You can be as rough as you like with me.

You got it, Logan thought back, growling deep in his throat.

Before long they were naked together in Alison's bedroom, with Logan throwing her around the bedroom and yanking her hair; for her part she was biting and scratching him with some degree of viciousness, while knowing perfectly well that the wounds would heal without trace.

"You're a closet sadist, ain't you?" Logan growled as he spread her legs wide and penetrated her hard.

She arched her back and dug her nails into his flesh as hard as she could, biting him. "I know I can hurt you and you can take it," she purred. "I'd never do this with anyone else."

"You ain't gonna admit you enjoy it, are you?" he teased.

She bit him again. "Pain features in a lot of relationships," she pointed out. "Usually it's the recipient who enjoys the pain. The donor just likes to give the recipient what s/he wants. You don't like it, I know."

"No, but you do," he kidded.

Alison bit him yet again, laughed and climaxed. So did he, triggered by her orgasm. God, I love feeling spunk shooting up into me, she sent to him. Luckily I have a contraceptive implant - I shudder to think what kind of dad you'd be.

I'd stick around for you an' the kid, he told her as they relaxed in post-coital bliss, each caressing the other. She liked the fact that unlike most men he had no trouble at all staying awake after sex.

I imagine you would, but would that be good or bad for the kid?

Wanna take out the implant an' find out?

No, she said seriously. A child's life is nothing to kid about or experiment with. If and when I have children I want to be in love with the man who puts them into me. I like you, I lust after you and I care about you, but we both know I don't love you and you don't love me. It wouldn't be fair to a kid not to love their father.

Good point. I wish more guys would think about that before they get a woman pregnant.

Maybe it's my empathy. I would feel what the kid felt. According to Heinlein - you ever read him?

I read Starship Troopers and Space Cadet,he replied.

Figures. One about war, the other about the Space Patrol, i.e. both military in nature. I was thinking more of I Will Fear No Evil, Time Enough For Love, ‛The Number Of The Beast', Friday and Stranger In A Strange Land. Anyway, according to Heinlein, ‛babies are made with love, with little moans of happiness between two people who know what they are doing and want to do it'. But I would argue that - sex and love are separate things in my experience. I don't have to be in love to fuck, or to get pregnant.

How would you know? Logan asked curiously.

Logan, I've been pregnant. When I was 20 or so I took up with a really sweet guy, and one night when we were a bit drunk I forgot my Pill - I didn't have an implant then, there was some question about their effectiveness. I got pregnant completely by accident - yeah, it can still happen even in this day and age. The number of pregnant girls I've had to counsel because they didn't want to be...I even had one once who'd gotten pregnant by her brother, the dirty bitch.

Wow. He chuckled. Seems a bit hypocritical, you calling another girl a dirty bitch when you're absolutely filthy an' proud of it.

She huffed indignantly and bit him again. There are limits, you know! Yes, I freely admit I'm a slut, but at least I would never dream of fucking my brother! Eew!

Fair enough, he smiled.

Yeah. She was knowingly and happily committing incest, and the only thing she was worried about was being pregnant. Talk about skewed priorities. Dirty bitch should've been worried about the baby maybe being deformed - inbreeding conserves favourable genes, but it conserves bad genes, too, which is why it's illegal and taboo - and a damn good idea.

Maybe she didn't know, Logan suggested fairly.

Mmm, maybe. Anyway, I got pregnant and I kind of liked it, but about three months in I lost the baby. Never even knew if it was a girl or a boy.

He stroked her hair in sympathy. I'm sorry, Alison.

Thanks, Logan. I had counselling, but it was early enough in the pregnancy that it didn't hurt so much, physically or emotionally. Plus there's usually a good reason for a miscarriage. The mother's body conducts continuous checks on the foetus, and it it finds anything wrong, it'll abort to save the mother, so she can try again. There must've been something wrong, or I wouldn't have lost it - I honestly took precautions and did everything right, and nothing wrong. But it still died. Doubtless it would have died if carried to full term.

Gotcha.

Yeah. I was pretty much okay; these things happen. But it woke me up. It made me realise I didn't really love him. I define ‛love' as that state you're in when you really can't live without the person you're supposedly in love with. But I could easily live without Marty.

Could you live without me?

Honestly? Yes, she admitted candidly. You're fun, you're dependable and God knows you're great in a fight, but that doesn't add up to love, does it?

No, he conceded in turn. An' to me most people are temporary, so, yeah, I could live without you, too.

No offence meant.

An' none taken.

So we definitely do not love each other.

No.

She cuddled up to him. Doesn't mean we can't enjoy being together, though.

He kissed her and stroked her pussy. No, it doesn't.

Shortly after that they fell asleep in each other's arms.

They were more certain than ever that each liked, but did not love, the other. That, for now, suited them fine.