Chapter 12

Breathe in. No sounds save the solitary chirping of a bird that strayed into the garden. No breeze, no screaming students.

Exhale softly. The breeze picked up a bit. Control. The breeze died down. Better.

The windrider opened her eyes to take in the calming greens of the plant fronds that surrounded her. The tranquility of the garden color was a much needed change from the red that had dominated her life only a couple days ago.

The Brotherhood was gone. Magneto took off almost immediately upon waking. No words, just a nod in Jean's direction. With Magneto went Rogue, St. John, and a couple Morlocks who were interested in the ideology Magneto spouted. Ororo could only hope they would be easily turned away.

Most of the unharmed Morlocks took off almost immediately to salvage what they could from their destroyed home. Others combed what was left of the tunnels, seeking new chambers to inhabit. Despite everything, this was their home, and they would not be so easily removed.

A familiar scratching to the right. Ororo smiled. Then, she mused, there were always the few who stayed. Penance, a mere fifteen feet away, watched Ororo from the underbrush.

Though she'd refused to let anyone near her, Penance's wounds had healed, quickly returning to the razor-sharp pink flesh that coated her body. The skittish Morlock, instead of returning with her clan, had lurked around the building for the past few days, silently observing everyone. This was the closest she'd come to anyone since the attack.

Ororo shut her eyes again. Perfect serenity, that was the way to draw her in. Observe me, child. I will not harm you.

"I'm going to kill you, Bobby Drake!" The silence shattered. Ororo sighed and opened her eyes. Penance was gone. "Bobbbbyyyy!!!" Jubilee's shrieks carried across the open area.

Ororo turned to observe a very annoyed Jubilee covered in tiny icicles. "That is NOT funny," she grumbled, sparks forming at her fingertips.

"I am glad to see the two of you have found such a productive outlet for your powers." The two students appeared to show some remorse at her light scolding. Ororo smiled. "Though I must admit to being pleased that the both of you seem well."

"Sorry Miss Munroe," Jubilee said apologetically. "We forgot this is your meditation time."

"That is quite alright," their teacher replied. "I was doing some exercises to gain a finer control of my powers. Perhaps the two of you could benefit from such techniques."

"I'm not much of a meditation kind of gal," Jubilee said, snapping her gum. "That sittin' still bit would do me in for sure."

"Yeah Jubes can't even focus her attention on one guy at a time," Bobby said with a snicker, only to yelp when he was hit from behind by a small spark.

"You will find what works for you with time and practice. Perhaps, for now, the two of you should focus on your dish-washing powers. Jean would appreciate the help in the kitchen."

The two students groaned, but offered no real complaints. With a few more light insults in each other's direction, Bobby and Jubilee ran back inside the mansion, leaving Ororo alone once more. Returning to her cross-legged position, she once again closed her eyes and began her breathing exercises. Breathe in... exhale softly. A soft rustle from the underbrush greeted her. She smiled. "Welcome back, Penance," she said to the young mutant, whose only response was a blink in her direction.

-----

Someone had been knocking on Lorna's door for the past five minutes. The green-haired mutant had made no attempt to respond to the gentle rapping. Go away, she thought, clenching her eyes tightly shut.

The rapping died down, and Lorna gave a silent prayer. Since returning, she'd fronted questions from nearly the entire school, who all seemed to demand every detail of her possession. It had gotten to the point where she no longer bothered with politeness. She'd driven away more than one student with a very pointed demand to "Drop the subject."

The truth was, she neither wanted nor needed anyone's sympathy. She didn't want their help or their shoulder to cry on. Every concerned look in her direction only reminded her of exactly what she'd been through.

The only person she even wanted to discuss her experiences with had left immediately after the attacks. Alison, who'd also been possessed by Malice, had no particular desire to stay around an estate full of mutants who's destruction she'd been forced to help plan. Besides, the blonde girl had noted, she had an obligation to go home to her family, who'd suffered through her disappearance long enough. The day after the massacre, Alison was gone.

The knocking started up again. "Go away!" she screamed, throwing a book at the door. There was a moment of silence and then the door opened.

"Y' remind me of Belle wit' dat tantrum, chere. Been hit more den once wit' dat femme's shoes."

"I thought I said to go away," she said, her eyes locked straight forward.

Remy shrugged. "I'm a man. We don' listen. 'Sides, dat Frost woman is here and de Professor wants us dere to meet her."

"I've no desire to schmooze with some rich bimbo who's probably going to expose us anyway. Give the Professor my apologies."

Instead of walking out, Remy took a seat next to Lorna on the bed. With a sharp glance, she looked at him. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Not goin' if y' not," he said with a smile. "Y' not lose Remy dat easily."

"And my mother wonders why I'm not dating anyone," Lorna said with her trademark dry wit. "I guess I'm not getting rid of you easily, huh?"

"Non. I stay 'til y' have me forcibly removed. Worked wit' Belle." He cocked an eyebrow and grinned in her direction.

Lorna snickered. "Your flirtations don't work on me, Remy. You know that."

He feigned horror. "What do y' take m' for? De LeBeau men are gentlemen."

"Remy, you're about as subtle with your attentions as Logan is with his claws."

"Ah, well y' cannot blame m' for trying, chere."

"I could, but I won't." Lorna grinned for the first time in ages. "You're a piece of work, Remy LeBeau."

"Dat's what m' mere said when she caught me stealin' from de chocolate stash she kept hidden."

"If you're this bad now, I can only imagine how you were then." Lorna was quiet. "You ever think about having a life outside of the X-Men, Remy?"

He shrugged. "I t'ink everybody does. De excitement of dis life is nice, but it's not somet'ing I want to do forever."

"I never gave much thought to a family of my own," Lorna said, fixing her eyes forward again. "Ever since I was a student here, I've just always known that this was the only family I'd ever need."

"And now?" He eyed her curiously with his glowing eyes. She shrugged.

"I dunno. Might be nice for a change. I just.... I've changed a lot. A few months ago, the only thoughts I had were for my students. Now I'm thinking I might like some time to myself."

"Talk to de Professor."

She shook her head. "I think maybe I'll talk to Scott first. He and I have always been pretty good friends. Besides, the Professor will just want to put me in some kind of therapy, and I really don't want that right now."

"Dere's no shame in needin' help," Remy replied, with a concerned look to her. "Can't believe I'm sayin' dis, but y' can't always keep y'self apart from everyone."

"Remy, if you say 'No man is an island,' I'm going to see to it that your magnetic attraction extends to inanimate objects as well as women."

He grinned. "Wouldn't dream of it."

-----

So that's her. Logan eyed Emma Frost with a slightly bored curiosity. He, for one, didn't see how the petite woman had managed to make the entire staff of the school nervous. She didn't look much older than twenty-five, if that. Her hair was white-blonde, barely falling to her pale, creamy shoulders. She wore an sleeveless silk blouse that probably cost more than Scott's motorcycle. As for her matching white skirt, well, Logan had seen strippers with more material on their bodies. A small, prissy thing like that can't possibly be that much of a threat.

Still, Logan had to admit that her letter, read to the X-Men the day before, had struck him as odd. What she possibly hoped to gain, he couldn't guess. Her piercing blue eyes appeared occupied, as if she were in deep concentration. Guess we'll find out soon enough.

Jean and Scott sat to Logan's left, directly across from Emma and her assistant. The assistant, a dark-haired woman who'd accompanied the headmistress, appeared to be taking in every minute detail of the room.

After a few minutes of silence, the Professor entered, accompanied by Ororo. Emma rose and walked over to shake the Professor's hand. "I apologize for the wait, Miss Frost," the Professor said, rolling to a seat at the table. "I was with a student."

"Is this your entire staff?" the blonde woman said, her eyes running along the four X-Men who were seated with the Professor.

"I am afraid that we've had some confusion over the past few days, so a few of our staff are not here. Dr. Henry McCoy, who serves as teacher and physician, is a bit... under the weather at the moment. Additionally, Miss Lorna Dane, who recently returned to the school is currently a bit ill. I believe she's with Mr. Remy LeBeau, who helps out with some of our classes."

"I see." Emma blinked, then turned to the woman next to her. "Tessa here accompanied me on behalf of my fellow headmaster, Sebastian Shaw. He is, I'm afraid, tied up with business at the moment. Tessa, as his assistant, however, will doubtless act as his hearing piece for our meeting."

There was something in the woman's voice that Logan distrusted almost immediately. Perhaps it was the fact that she was a little too comfortable to be sitting amongst a group of people she recognized as very powerful mutants. If the woman had truly done her homework, Logan was sure she suspected they were the X-Men, who'd been gaining notoriety in the media as a "fringe group whose actions bordered on vigilantism." Yet the woman sat placidly, the slightest hints of a smile on her face.

It was really the smile that betrayed it all. She's got something up her sleeve. His mental alarms were practically screaming. This woman isn't afraid for a reason.

Her assistant, on the other hand, was a different story. Logan had never come in contact with someone so seemingly emotionless. Tessa's movements were not calculated, unlike Miss Frost's. Neither her facial expressions nor her blue eyes betrayed her in the slightest. Her elegant black business suit seemed almost nun-like in comparison to Emma's practically indecent ensemble. Both women practically reeked of wealth and power.

But what kind of power did either of these women have? School instructors weren't exactly at the top of the social food chain. Miss Frost, at least, seemed to carry the airs of a woman that had grown up to wealth. Her mannerisms hinted to Wolverine that this woman had been carefully instructed in the ways of charm school. This upbringing could certainly account for her pretensions. Still, something didn't add up.

Logan had come in contact with enough powerful people to recognize true power from pretensions. This woman, whoever she was, had some sort of force behind her that she wasn't revealing at the moment.

Jean, it appeared, had picked up on something herself. Logan, somewhat of an expert on Jean's mannerisms, observed his red-haired teammate watching Emma with a close interest. He would be sure to compare notes later.

"I must admit, Miss Frost," the Professor was saying, "your letter has caused a little bit of excitement at our humble school."

"Your school is many things, Professor Xavier, but humble is not a word I might select. And call me Emma.." The blonde woman slowly twirled the Mont Blanc pen she held in her fingers. "I'll get to the point. I do have some interest in your school."

The Professor leaned back in his wheelchair. "Yes, I gathered that. And please call me Charles. I was wondering, Emma, exactly what your interests were. Perhaps I could address some of your concerns about mutants in schools."

"I've no concern about mutants in general, Charles," she said with a smile. "Unlike the rest of the world, I am neither scared nor impressed by mutancy. Business, that's my interest, not genetics. My business, at the moment, is my students. As I mentioned, I have several gifted students in my population. Obviously, this puts me in a situation you are, of course, quite familiar with. That is, how to best instruct my students."

"Yes, instructing mutant students is quite a bit different than human students," the Professor conceded. "You're under the obligation of not only honing their mind, but their powers as well."

"Then you do understand." Emma shifted back in her seat with a smile. "I merely wish to learn from your example, is all."

"I would be more than pleased to meet with your students and give you some tips on how to benefit them," the Professor said. "If you would like them to come here and see how our students learn, I could arrange something..."

"I'm afraid you don't catch my meaning," Emma said, her expression not wavering. "By 'learn,' I meant just that. It is my desire, as well as Shaw's, that we place one of our own staff members here, simply to observe how you run things. It would give us a more well-rounded impression of your techniques."

Scott leaned forward. "Miss Frost..."

"Emma, please."

"Emma... While I'm sure that would help you with your own students, I'm not sure how this benefits our school as well."

"If you have any particular concerns, I would be pleased to address them," Emma continued, forcibly. "I think perhaps you are overlooking the obvious benefits. Should your school meet with any publicity, it would doubtless help you to have a school as prestigious as ours on your side. Shaw and I can be very powerful allies, in the right situations."

"What you mean is that you'll expose us if we don't agree," Scott said, his voice hardening a bit. Jean placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"If that's your concern," Emma said, "you need not worry. I have no particular desire to expose your school. That would neither help your students, nor mine."

Tessa opened her mouth to speak. "Mr. Shaw offers my services, if Miss Frost has no objections. I'm well-trained in how the Massachusetts Academy is run, so I would be an ideal candidate to observe your school. I'm also extremely well-trained in the areas of arts and humanities. I would be willing to be a guest instructor at your school while conducting my observations."

"Tessa is extremely qualified," Emma interjected. "Aside from being personal assistant to Sebastian, she is a capable instructor in her own right." She smiled wryly. "I do believe she remembers everything she's ever learned. She has quite the mind."

"I'm certain she's an excellent instructor, but I'm still not sure this is a good idea," Scott said, a bit friendlier this time.

"If I were to allow this observation," the Professor stated, "I would, naturally, need your assurance that you would behave according to our rules. Our students are quite protected here. We don't want to disrupt their learning."

"Of course not," Emma said. "We'd be more than willing to cooperate with your policies."

The Professor nodded. "Then I don't see why not. I believe we have a deal, Emma."

"Splendid." Emma stood. "You've made a wise decision, Charles."

"I certainly hope so. I am still quite interested in meeting your students. Perhaps you would consider bringing them here sometime. Simply so I can get an idea of their respective gifts."

"I might be able to arrange that." Emma shook the Professor's hand. "We really must be off now. I will contact you soon about placing Tessa here."

"Of course," the Professor said. "Let me escort you to your car."

Ororo and the Professor left the room with the two women, leaving Jean, Scott, and Logan behind. "I think we just made a big mistake," Scott said. "I don't trust that woman."

"Neither do I," Logan agreed. "Something's off about her."

"She's a telepath," Jean said. Both men looked in her direction.

"How do you know that?" Scott asked.

"I had a peek in Tessa's mind," Jean said. "I tried to look in Emma's, but her mental blocks were too strong to get a good glimpse without tripping her sensors. I peeked in Tessa's instead."

"Jean, you shouldn't have done that," Scott said, with some shock still registering on his face. "The Professor has made it very clear that we shouldn't use our powers unless absolutely necessary."

"What else did you find?" Logan asked.

"I'm not sure how powerful Emma is," Jean admitted. "Tessa has her own mental blocks, though far weaker than Emma's. Tessa's mind, however, was extremely interesting in it's own right. I've never met a mind so perfectly organized."

"What do you mean?" Logan asked.

"Most minds are chaotic and disorganized," Jean explained. "That's why we can't always remember everything. Tessa's, however, is... perfect. Every thought, every memory she's ever had, has it's own little place. She's almost like a library or a computer. It's that perfect."

"So we've got two mutant minds," Logan said. "Great."

"It could explain their interest," Jean said. "Though there was something else..." At Logan's curios glance, she continued. "I didn't look too deeply. I was mostly checking to see why they were interested. After I picked up on the fact that they were both mutants, I found something else. It might be small, but it was all over Tessa's mind. Apparently both woman are members of something called the Hellfire Club."

"I've heard of them," Scott said. "That's an elite social club. They've got a chapter in New York. Warren used to attend their functions."

"So they belong to some club for rich people," Logan said. "I don't see why this is a motive."

"Don't underestimate the power of people with money," Jean said. "A lot of Tessa's mind is devoted to them for a reason. But like I said, I didn't go to deeply. I'd spent too much time in there already."

"The Professor should know about this," Scott admitted. "I'm still not sure I like the idea of you poking around in their minds, Jean."

"I doubt they noticed."

"That's not the point." Scott's voice was firm, yet gentle. "I know your powers are changing, Jean. I just hope it doesn't change you in the process."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Jean's brows furrowed with some anger.

"Just what I said." Scott's even tone didn't change. "Don't do things like that without either my or the Professor's consent. If Emma's a telepath like you said, and she'd caught you, we could have found ourselves in a LOT of trouble. I'm not going to have you endangering the school to satisfy your curiosity. That's an order."

Scott left without another word, leaving Jean and Logan alone. "I can't believe that," she said, annoyance still in her voice. "He treated me like... like..."

"Like a member of the team?"

Jean turned sharply to Logan, who had a slightly bemused smile on his face. "I suppose you're going to yell at me too?" she said.

"No, I think you did what you thought was right," Logan shrugged. "Scott and I have never seen eye to eye on most things, but I think he was just doing what he thought was best for everyone."

"So you're on his side?"

"Jean, I'm always going to be on your side." He fixed his eyes on hers, taking a step closer.

"You shouldn't look at me like that," she said, giving him an even glance back.

"Why not?" He moved closer.

"Because I don't like it." Jean shifted.

"Oh, you don't?" He was face to face with her now. He could sense her heart rate picking up a bit with his proximity. "I don't see you stopping me."

She smiled calmly then, and Logan half expected to find himself telekinetically thrown against a wall. "Don't assume anything about me, Logan," she said, turning around to walk out. "You might be surprised by what you find out."

"Darlin'," he said to her retreating figure, "I continue to be surprised every day."

-----

Rogue had come to appreciate the private room she had at Mystique's. While she'd enjoyed rooming with her friends at Xavier's, she'd often found herself retreating to isolated sections of the mansion to be alone.

Despite all the progress she'd made, and the friends she had, there was a part of Rogue that still shied away from people. Every time Kitty or Jubilee had come a little too close, every time Bobby looked at her like he wanted to kiss her, Rogue found herself reliving those moments in her bedroom when she'd very nearly killed Cody with the soft, pink flesh of her lips.

She was pretty sure she'd always carry that fear with her. The sensation of feeling someone's life draining away was not a memory easily forgotten. Neither was the knowledge that it was entirely her own fault.

With only a few exceptions, Rogue hadn't even found herself wanting to touch anyone. One of those exceptions was that Cajun boy, Remy, who she seemed to keep running into. With a smile, she remembered his odd red-on-black eyes and his smug, self-assured grin. Half the time, she wasn't sure if she wanted to kill him or kiss him.

And kiss him she had. She had very nearly gone nuts with the presence of the Cajun charmer sharing her living space. In fact, Rogue had been trapped with his astral presence during the entire time Carol hijacked her body. By the end of it, she'd built a nice, study wall around him, deciding she'd much rather deal with the real life version than the psychic version.

"It worries me when I see you smiling." Rogue turned to see the shifting yellow eyes of Mystique peering in at her from the door. "Your looks remind me far too much of my own, sometimes."

"Ah wasn't smilin'," Rogue argued.

Mystique snorted. "If you want to pretend you weren't thinking about that Cajun boy, that's your business. I notice more than you realize. I definitely noticed the way you were practically performing a mating ritual with that arrogant little charmer."

"Ya don't approve," Rogue said.

"No, but that's never stopped you." Mystique entered the small bedroom and sat on the edge of Rogue's bed. "I'm not here to talk about him, anyway. I wanted to discuss your future plans."

"What plans?" Rogue asked, her brows furrowing.

"I didn't expect you back.," Mystique admitted. "I was convinced you would remain at the Institute with your friends."

"Yeah, well, mah home isn't with them anymore," she said, with some sadness. "Ah'm not the scared little girl that first moved to Xavier's, ya know."

"I know," Mystique said. "Now you're the scared little girl taking up space in my overpriced apartment."

To Mystique's surprise, Rogue burst out laughing. After a moment, she found herself laughing as well. It was the first time in ages that Mystique had truly laughed, an event she found no less than amazing.

They finally managed to compose themselves after a bit more giggling. After a moment, Mystique stood up. "I have to start dinner. We have a lot of people to feed tonight." As she went through the door, she paused, then turned. "You'll always have a room here, you know."

Rogue smiled. "Thanks." Mystique stood there for a moment, looking at the skunk-haired Southerner, before smiling awkwardly and leaving.

-----

"We'll be back in Massachusetts within minutes," the pilot announced to Emma and Tessa, who relaxed in the seats of Emma's private jet. Tessa had chosen to spend the time taking a nap, and was reclined quite peacefully in the plush seats. Emma, on the other hand, was busy chatting over the air phone with Sebastian.

"Everything is in place," she said, observing her nails. "He went for it, exactly as expected."

"Wonderful," Sebastian said, "This could be our best venture yet, Emma."

"Without a doubt," she said. Then, she frowned. "That Jean Grey woman might pose a slight problem, however."

"What do you mean?"

"I caught her trying to peek in my mind. I suspect she may have entered Tessa's as well."

"She couldn't possibly have found her way too deep," Sebastian said, no concern in his voice. "She won't know how to make sense of what she found even if she did."

"Perhaps. They still know Tessa and I are mutants now."

"Which proves what? That you have legitimate reasons for being interested in mutant students? If that arouses their suspicions, they're far too paranoid for their own good. That could prove a weakness."

"We should still proceed with caution," Emma urged. "She has powers of her own. She was practically buzzing with it. Tessa and I both picked up on it."

"Interesting..." Sebastian's voice trailed off. "I'll have Tessa observe her extra closely."

"We'll have to put some solid blocks in Tessa's mind to keep Jean and the Professor out," Emma said. "They already probably know she's a mutant. That's too much information right there."

"Tessa is capable on her own," Sebastian said. "I'm sending her in for a reason. Aside from the fact that her incredible mind remembers every single thing she sees or hears, she also has enough telepathy to cause a little damage of her own if they try anything. Yes, we'll send Tessa in. Then, once she has observed everything she can, we'll have her analyze and report on every single important thing she finds. Tessa misses nothing. That's why she's perfect for this."

"I'm well aware of your... fondness for your little assistant," Emma said. "There's very little you can hide from a telepath."

Sebastian barked a short laugh. "Emma, you are a gem. I eagerly wait your return."

Emma smiled. "Yes. We have MUCH to discuss."

-----

That night, as she was lying next to Scott, Jean found her thoughts drifting back to the night of the massacre, when her powers had taken that incredible leap. She's spoken to no one about her experiences. Not the Professor. Not Ororo. Not even Scott.

The presence that had filled her with such power was there. Jean could feel it buzzing inside her, filling her with increased strength. Every emotion and thought she had was received with an intense burst of curiosity from the visitor, who maintained a mostly passive existence.

She turned to look at Scott's sleeping form, the protective goggles he wore glinting under the moonlight. His chest rose and fell with his rhythmic breathing, and Jean felt a swell of love for him.

The presence stirred, drawing her attention. She could feel it's curiosity as it explored her feelings of love, seeming to revel in every bit of it. 'What do you want?' She found herself addressing the creature, not entirely sure it would respond. It had not said a word since first entering her.

There was absolute stillness inside her for a moment, and she was sure it wouldn't speak. Why does this human inspire such a response from you, it asked her, not masking it's curiosity.

She observed Scott's sleeping form again. 'Because I love him.'

It stirred. I don't understand that. It makes no sense. Love is intangible, yes?

'Yes.'

Then it cannot exist. >p> 'It does.' She shifted uncomfortably. 'It's not something you can see. It's an entirely emotional experience.'

Emotions are irrational. I pity you for being a slave to them.

'Do you not have emotions?'

None.

'Then it is you that I pity.'

The creature was silent, buzzing in her psyche quietly. Do you enjoy them?

'My emotions?'

Yes.

'Sometimes. Mostly. They can be pleasurable or painful. I can't imagine being without them.'

They ARE quite intense. I, perhaps, can understand the draw. When I have experienced more, perhaps I will share your opinion.

'Why are you here?'

To help you.

'Yes, but I don't need your help anymore. We're alive now. They're gone.' Jean looked at the ceiling. 'There's another reason, isn't there?'

That is for my concern.

'You're in my body. I think I should know why.'

You needn't worry about me. I would not destroy you. You are allowing me to experience your life. That's by far more precious to me. I only wish to observe, to live your life with you for a time. In return, I give you my power.

'Who ARE you?'

I? I'm life incarnate.

'That doesn't help me much, I'm afraid.'

I am life and death. I am destroyed by my own hands, only to rise and become more glorious than before. I am the Phoenix.

Jean's brow furrowed. 'The Phoenix?'

I am pure cosmic energy. I have no life of my own. That is why I am living through you, Jean.

'I think it's my turn not to understand.'

In time, you will. For now, sleep. Jean felt herself growing drowsy at the suggestion.

'I have more questions.' She found herself yawning, against her will.

Another time. Now, you will rest.

'But...'

Sleep.

As Jean drifted off into slumber, she could hear the voice talking to her again. You will help me understand, Jean. Through you, I will live again.