"Is this real enough for you Rogue?!" asked a feral Logan as he sheathed his claws after slicing a vein in his right wrist.

The blood spurted out momentarily, but seconds later the wound closed; hiding all evidence of the volatile act.

Rogue jumped back startled; her mouth partly open in disgust and fear.

She bumped into the wall behind her suddenly feeling too close to the man she knew as a good friend for years.

Rogue stammered her words; "W-what are ya doin' Logan?!" she asked as something deep inside her started to take over.

Rogue had made the mistake of bringing up Jean only months after her *second* death and even worse by uttering the same phrase spoken with a harsh tone by Storm the day she caught Logan packing; "Why can't you just let her go?"

He looked at her with a contempt that Rogue had never
seen before and spat out his response with fire in voice, "Shut the fuck up, you don't know what you're talking about!"

Logan closed his eyes tightly for a moment before turning to walk away.

Rogue took a breath and let her gaze fall onto her boot covered feet.

"You're too stupid to see what's right in front of you and what's real… you're so hung up on her."

Rogue whispered the words so low that nobody without
freakishly good hearing could have picked up on it, but unfortunately Logan was one of those people and she'd forgotten that small fact.

Without a moment's notice he was hovering over her; jaw clenched, breath ragged and a temper ready to boil over.

"What did you say?", the voice wasn't all together Logan's and the tightness in his tone made the words more frightening than a scream of the most hellish magnitude.

"Is this real enough for you Rogue?!" he asked as he sheathed his claws after slicing a vein in his right wrist.

The blood spurted out momentarily, but seconds later the wound closed; hiding all evidence of the volatile act.

Rogue jumped back startled; her mouth partly open in disgust and fear.

Logan pushed her up against the wall with a forced that nearly broke Rogue's shoulder blade, "Get the fuck away from me!"

Suddenly Rogue's eyes lit up with a strange yet familiar glow and her face became inexplicably calm, "Logan don't… it isn't her fault."

The features on Logan's face softened unexpectedly with confusion, hope and… love.

"Jean?" he asked; his voice shaky.

Rogue nodded and the confusion took over Logan's expression completely.

"But… how?" was all Logan managed to get out.

Rogue bowed her head, but this time in guilt; "It-it was the last thing she did before taking the cure. Rogue loved you Logan… she would've done anything to see you happy… anything."

Realization dawned a few moments later, but for nothing
really because Logan still didn't know what to do with that or any other knowledge which had been foisted on him within mere minutes.

Jean in Rogue's mind? Rogue in love with him? It was all too much to take in.

Pushing past everything else, Logan grabbed Rogue by the
arms and hugged her tightly… the way he would've hugged Jean if it had been her body in front of him.

He cried for his loss and for his gain because getting Jean back would mean losing the first real friend he could remember having and at the same time a girl who deserved so much more than to be a bodily substitute for someone else.

Slowly coming out of his haunted revelry Logan asked a question; one he could have never conceived prior to
the current situation, "Is-is she still in there?"

Rogue looked into his eyes sadly, "Yes… but only as a secondary personality. She held on for so long… I'm sorry."

Logan hung his head against Rogue's shoulder soaking her sweater with the remnants of his tears.

"We have to leave." she said softly, "No one knows about this… I made sure of it, but it won't be long before someone starts asking questions."

Rogue grabbed Logan's hand and brought it to her lips just as he'd done to Jean that night in the med lab.

"I love you." she said looking deeply into his eyes as though she could see into his soul. And suddenly Logan knew that it wasn't Jean talking.

Logan’s hands were locked in a death grip on the steering wheel as he drove away from Xavier’s; glancing sideways every so often to stare none-to-subtlety at the young girl next to him.

The scenery further north wasn’t much to look at, but Rogue gazed out of the truck’s window in feigned awe as though the snowy trees that whizzed by were the most interesting rural detail since the birth of the first cow.

Logan noted the changes in posture and overall attitude that signaled the shift between Jean in Rogue’s head and just Rogue; it made a part of him hurt though he couldn’t pin point exactly why.

Neither of the pair had said a word since leaving the mansion and awkward could not even begin to describe the tension building up within the confined space of the truck’s cab.

After about half a day’s drive, Logan pulled into a motel.

He had been reaching for his duffel bag between the seats when he was caught off guard by Jean's/Rogue's voice.

“Don’t you want to know?” she asked; seemingly mystified that Logan hadn’t prodded her for more answers once they were on the road.

His response was desolate; “I’m not sure.” Logan pulled his bag across the driver’s seat and made a move to open the door when he hesitated; waiting as though he was hoping for a response, anything to make the inevitable conversation easier.

An eternity seemed to pass before a voice cut through the silence, “No, you have to know. You have to know what she did for you… for us.”

It was quiet again for a beat before Logan shifted toward her, “Then tell me… tell me everything.”
---------------------------------------------------------
“You didn’t do anything wrong Logan, it was my choice… it was my choice and I chose you.”

Rogue had more to add, but she knew that it would have only made matters more complicated.

Jean wouldn’t have chosen him; not if Scott were still around.

She would’ve cheated with Logan; no doubt about that, but every morning she’d wind up lying next to Scott again which was where she belonged in the first place.

~You’re right Rogue, at this point I couldn’t lie even if I wanted to, but you’re right. ~

Rogue didn’t need Jean to tell her that, she didn’t need Jean to tell her what she already knew too well.

~ I know. You cared- care about him, but it’s not love. It never was, was it? ~

~No.~

“You could take a shower if you want, I’m gonna go and see if they have any place to eat around here.” said Logan as he opened the door to the motel room.

He made his way down the sidewalk to the check-in office all the while thinking about his- their situation.

Rogue stood under the hot spray of the shower wondering if she’d made the right decision.

Quickly pushing her doubts aside she assured herself that she had.

Jean chimed in to that tune as well.

~ You did what you thought was right. ~
----------------------------------------------------------
“There’s a diner about a mile up the road, and a bar if you’re interested… then again I don’t figure you wantin’ ta' leave that pretty young girl you came up here with.”

Logan ignored the last part of the clerk’s statement and headed to his truck.

The diner looked like every other small town eatery he’d ever been to; truckers, a waitress that looked too old to be there and a fat, sweaty cook yelling out pick-ups.

He took a seat on one of the counter stools and waited until the waitress came by.

“What can I get cha’ honey?” she asked pulling out a pen from behind her ear.

Logan realized then that he’d forgotten to ask Rogue/Jean… whoever, what she wanted. He quickly decided on the first thing he could think of.

“I’ll take a steak; the biggest one ya’ got, a cheese burger with everything and fries.”

The waitress scribbled down his order in short hand before calling it out to the cook, “Two cows; one stripped and the other with the works… don’t forget the chips.”
----------------------------------------------------------
Rogue sat on one of the beds in the motel room; legs crossed as she attacked her burger.

Logan watched her from his seat near the door as he grabbed another beer from the case he’d bought on the way back from the diner.

He knew Jean was in there somewhere; probably sitting back and letting Rogue have this time with him, even if he wasn’t all there at the moment.

She wiped the ketchup from her mouth and smiled at him; a real smile, like she had the day he’d given her his tags to hold onto.

Logan began to think of Jean again because as much as she was there, he was still looking at Rogue; and it wasn’t the same.

The smile disappeared from Rogue’s face within an instant and she quickly excused herself to the bathroom.

Rogue looked at her reflection in the mirror; she blinked and the image changed to Jean. “I’m so sorry.” she said; the guilt evident in her face.

“Are you?” asked Rogue with a bite in her tone, “Are you really sorry Jean?”

Rogue knew the truth; she knew that Jean was sorry, but it didn’t make her feel any better.

Logan wasn’t in love with her and she’d just have to face that.

~ He only wants you Jean. I didn’t think he’d mind so much, you know, me being around, but… he only wants you. ~

The sympathy was evident in Jean’s eyes as she stared back at Rogue. She couldn’t argue, couldn’t lie; it was the truth.

If only he could see past that.

~ I just thought… I thought he’d be happy and… that I’d be able to handle not being what he wanted, but… I don’t think I can. ~

~ Don’t do this Rogue. ~

“You okay in there?” asked Logan, getting up from his chair and walking across the room.

Jean’s reflection disappeared and Rogue wiped the tears from her eyes; trying to calm herself long enough to answer.

“I’m fine… I just- I don’t feel too good all of a sudden… it musta’ been the burger.”

Logan knew she was lying; he’d heard some dialogue, but the outside noises wouldn’t let him catch it all. He had no idea what had gotten Rogue so worked up in the first place.

He hadn’t counted on her absorbed telepathy.

“It’s my fault; I wanted to see you happy, but I fucked up. I can’t change this… I wish I could now that I see what it’s done, but I can’t. Tell me how to make it better… how do we make this work?”

The tears were free falling from Rogue’s eyes as she asked Logan for help.

He pulled her emotionally exhausted body into his arms and just held her; trying to think of an answer, he couldn’t come up with one.

Logan leaned his chin on Rogue’s head and inhaled sharply; reacting to the tears steaming down his own face, “I don’t know… I don’t know.”

Jean watched the small yellow dashes that marked the middle of the street zoom by as she sat looking out the bus window.

Everyday she made the trip into the city to go to class.

She was suppose to attend the prep school near her house; the one that all the other snobby, rich suburban kids went to, but… it was just too perfect.

Perfect like every other little thing in Jean’s life.

Perfect mom, perfect dad, perfect house, car, dog and job; essentially, the perfect life… except it wasn’t.

She was so tired of being the girl everyone else looked up to, studied as the example and counted on not to let them down.

Well, she wasn’t perfect and it was time she let everyone know.
---------------------------------------------------------
“Go the fuck away!” screamed an angry Jean, except those words weren’t directed to anyone visible.

Everyone kept talking, but she didn’t have nearly enough ears to listen.

None of the voices cared about her problems, so giving a rat's ass about theirs was not high on her list.

She turned the music up louder, suddenly grateful for the homemade soundproofing in her room and took another swig of vodka.

The vodka she’d stolen from her father's liquor cabinet.
---------------------------------------------------------
“Something wrong?” asked Scott as he came up behind Jean in the kitchen.

She flinched slightly, uncharacteristically not expecting the contact.

“Um, nothing… just these tests I’ve been running.”

“I could be the good guy…” those words wouldn’t leave her alone, no matter what she did to try and forget.

Jean told tell herself over and over again that she loved Scott and that wasn’t so much a lie as it was the sentence before the impending ‘but’ that ruined lives.

Logan awoke a darker side of her, the dangerous side, but even *he* put her on a pedestal.

That stopped her most nights from entertaining the fantasies she prayed Scott would never find out about, although she was certain he always knew, at least on some basic level.
----------------------------------------------------------
Rogue had been clutching Logan for a long time before he noticed that she had stopped breathing.

She was holding it in, but he didn’t know why.

“Rogue?” he asked; pulling away to look at her.

She came to again only to answer “Nothin’…” and quickly crawled into her bed.

Logan flinched at the sudden loss of contact.

It was yet another lie, but who was he to call her on it?

Bobby was the first to realize that Rogue was gone.

He’d come knocking on her door like he did everyday; waiting to take her downstairs for breakfast.

When there was no reply, Bobby knocked harder; causing a hollow echo to sound off the hard wood.

“Rogue? Rogue?”

He could have assumed that she’d gone to breakfast without him; with Jubilee, Kitty and Pete instead, but Bobby just couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.
-------------------------------------------
Logan lay awake on the grubby motel bed listening to the even breathing emanating from across the room.

All the muscles in his body were tense, so much so, that he didn’t even realize it until he tried; unsuccessfully, to relax.

["Waking nightmares are the worst because it’s realities way of saying ‘Fuck you!’.
The painful images that run through your head when you’re awake have that sinking tinge at the end.
About the same time you realize that you’re not going to wake up… not ever."]

Logan felt that way just then.

He felt that way all the time, truth be told, but he’d never recognized it so clearly.

"Don’t make me do this."

"Do what?"

"This."

"I don’t want you to go."

"I’ll be back for these."

"Here, these are yours."

"She’s a little taken with you."

"My heart belongs to someone else."

"Logan!"

"Go, I’ll be fine!"

"But we won’t."

Translation?… "But *I* won’t."

There were soft curves under Logan’s hands and warm breath on his face and it was Jean and it was Rogue and it was *fucking* confusing.

The saddest part was that in some less twisted (or more, Logan couldn’t figure out which) way, that had really happened.

And as the masochist that he was, Logan actually wished that it had been about looks and about sex.

At least then there would be options.

Mystique would be more than willing to create any fantasy that he so desired.

But it wasn’t about either of those things and Logan didn’t know if he’d ever find out anything more than what he was told or if it even mattered.

For a split second Logan thought about leaving.

Leaving and maybe revisiting a few failed suicide attempts with a bit more knowledge about his mutation.

For a split second, Logan thought that leaving would be his only option against strangling Rogue in her sleep for the mess she had created.

He was fully aware at that moment of their heart to heart, but all of it began to fall away as he really came to terms with the fact that in no *fucking* way, shape or form were they ever going to be okay again.

He needed Jean. He needed her and to Hell with hurting Rogue.

“JEAN! JEAN!”

Rogue woke up bleary eyed and trying to sort out the details of the day before. Death might have been a better surprise.

“JEAN!”

“Logan! Why the fuck are you yelling!”

“Jean, I need you!”

Jean came to the fore, Rogue mutely disappearing within her own mind.

“Yes?”

“Tell me why she did it!”

“What?”

“Tell. Me. Why. She. Did. It!”

“I told you why. Beyond that, I can’t say…”

“You can’t or you won’t?!”

“A little of both.”

Logan began to cry.

“I LOVED YOU! I would’ve killed for you! I would’ve died for you! I would’ve moved Heaven and Hell for *YOU*!… And you couldn’t just wake the fuck up?! You couldn’tve done something to stop this kid from setting you, me and herself on fuckin’ fire?!”

A long moment passed before the silence was broken.

“No. And I wouldn’t have done something if I could have.”

The voice sounded low, cold and distant.

“I was dying Logan. I don’t believe in the after life, I will never see Scott again… I thought that if I took what was being offered- that a life with you, any life at all, would be better than nothingness. I can’t go back… I won’t… I’ve spent too much time in dark nothingness.”

Tears were streaming down Rogue’s face, but Logan knew who the tears were really from and what they were really for.

In that moment, for the first time, Logan truly hated Jean. And for the first time, he truly understood her.
-------------------------------------------
After asking a few more people if they had seen Rogue, Bobby went to the Professor.

"Rogue’s missing."

"I know."

"You do? Where is she?!"

"Please Robert, come sit down."
-------------------------------------------
Glass shards from an old mirror fell to the floor as Logan shattered it. He looked at his reflection in the remaining pieces and knew what he had to do to stop the psychosis.

"Romeo and Juliet."

Bobby did as he was asked, more because he felt the sudden need to be sick than he did the need to be polite.

He wasn’t yet sure of what the Professor knew but whatever it was couldn't have been good.

“Please don’t tell me that she’s dead.”

There had been no mission and really no cause for that sort of alarm other than Rogue’s disappearance, but to Bobby, there would be no other reason for the Professor’s silence.

Intense blue eyes came to meet Bobby’s cool ones.

“No. But she is not well.”

Before he had even realized it, Bobby had leaped up from the chair and raced across the room with full intentions on the medlab.

But when he reached the door it was locked.

The Professor’s calm and calculating voice made it’s way to deaf ears; confusion making all sound distorted.

“She’s not there Robert.”
----------------------------------------------------------
Logan watched Rogue’s, once again, sleeping from his vantage point above her.

He released the claws.

Within an instant, Rogue’s eyes flew open.

There was a slight glint in them and she suddenly smiled something unnatural.

“No.” she said almost comically.

Logan didn’t have time to register any of the former before he was thrown, by invisible hands, into the motel room wall.

3 Months Ago

~All X-Men, please come down to my office immediately.~

The message had come at around 2 am and while most everyone was home, not all of them were sleeping.

Logan had been chasing away his nightmares in the Danger Room while Jean and Scott, respectively; ran lab tests and graded exams.

They were the first members of the team to arrive.

The Professor sat silent and tense as the three of them filed in obviously awaiting bad news.

“What is it Professor?” asked Scott, before his fiancé had the chance.

Logan’s eyes flickered across the room accessing danger just in case.

“Yeah, what’s the problem Chuck?”

Orroro and the new recruits: Kurt and Remy trailed in a few moments later; sleep making their movements a bit off balance.

“Dis’ important no? When we put on the leather outfits?”

Orroro put a hand on Remy’s shoulder, “Not until we know what’s going on.”

Kurt who had remained silent, but attentive, gave a small nod to his seniors.

They all acknowledged him in some way before quickly turning their attention to the Professor.

Hands clasped at his desk because he could think of no productive use for them, Charles Xavier struggled to find the right way to explain the crisis his X-Men would soon face.

He released a long controlled breath and looked at all of their faces before continuing.

“As of late, the White House has released information about a string of mutant terrorist attacks. However, their intel proves to be less than reliable as the attacks have, in fact, been committed by an individual.”

Logan was the first to speak.

“A mutant?”

The Professor closed his eyes and inhaled deeply before answering.

“No. The Phoenix.”

Silence reigned for a moment or two before Orroro raised a question.

“Are you referring to the mythological being?”

The other team members looked at her in awe of her knowledge, since none of them had ever heard of ‘The Phoenix’.

“Yes and No.”

The words were said with such surety that everyone had to arc an eyebrow in confusion of just what they were dealing with.

“The reason I have called you all here at this hour is that I have completed, what I believe to be, a vessel for capturing this force.”

“You wanna ‘capture’ it? Why not just kill the damn thing?”

“Remy tink’ dat’ da Wolverine got a point.”

“I haven’t uncovered enough information to know weather any of your mutations are capable of completing the task. By holding the Phoenix captive I may be able the find a weakness; a way to destroy it. But in the mean time, I will not let it’s rampage go on.”

Cold air whipped about the team as the silence threatened to drive them all crazy.

They’d made their way down to where the Phoenix held her latest reign of terror; armed with com devices and not much else.

It had taken two hours to get there in the Blackbird and translated to four in normal distance to time ratios.

Everyone was on edge, but not enough to say it… or maybe too much to say it.

Jean sat next to Scott in the cockpit; looking at him every once in a while and trying to figure out if she was the only one that felt it.

“It”.

Of coarse she was.

Eyeing Storm off to the right in her Zen like state; meditating no doubt, Jean could almost believe that everything was normal.

A normal mission without the black cloud which held the fear of impending doom.

Funny enough or maybe not, Jean had never felt as such before that day.

She’d never really felt scared on missions; she was well trained and impenetrable if nothing else could make her believe that coming back home was an option and not a cruel flicker of hope.

No, but the others were oblivious; not to the situation, but to her mental state and to the strong force that was the Phoenix.

Remy remained stone faced; going over strategies in his head that he thought no enemy would be ready for.

Confident and stupid.

Kurt; much like Storm, took to claming and clearing his mind for the task ahead.

And to prayer, but why wouldn’t he?

Since what they were about to face was evil incarnate, as could be read in the Professor’s uncharacteristically empty eyes.

Scott was a blank slate… La Tabula Rasa.

Not because Jean couldn’t read him, but because he reserved all thought and action for the field.

Like a soldier… like an obedient soldier boy.

Logan on the other hand was primed with emotion and capped off rage like a scream unexpressed.

Held forever in your mind, in your throat… until it suffocates you.

Like the Phoenix.

Gravel crunched under Logan’s feet as he was the first to step out of the Blackbird; despite Scott’s order to stay back.

‘Logan, get the fuck back here, we don’t know what we’re up against!’

Scott’s words were as unheeded as he knew they would be, and the team hung back a few steps behind the rebel that threatened to get himself killed.

They walked for what felt like an eternity until Scott chanced making the first move.

‘Jean? Are you picking up any thoughts?’

Jean shook her head no, ‘No- no thoughts, but I feel something.’

Scott turned to her, ‘What?’

‘Like- like a force, it’s unstable and strong… too strong.’

The team stood shocked at the confession.

Maybe they weren’t ready for this and why hadn’t anything been said before the question was asked?

Either way, they were there and the Phoenix as it was called had to be faced and taken down.

Logan was the first to sober; breaking out of the statuesque state which had befallen them all and continuing his search.

Releasing the claws from both hands, Logan yelled into the dead air; ‘Come out you fuckin’ piece of shit!’

Scott took hold of Logan’s shoulder forcing an unexpected, but unobstructed turn that left the leader with a deep knick through his right cheek.

He wiped the blood away deftly.

‘What. The fuck. Do you think you’re doing?’

Oddly enough, the words came from Logan’s mouth as his claws remained out; blades facing his teammate.

Before Scott could respond, preferably preceding a punch to Logan’s thick adamantium skull for disregarding orders and putting the team in danger, a blast of energy made it’s way out if nowhere and the physical form that had once been Scott ceased to exist; becoming nothing more than a pile of ashes.

And oh, how funny it would have been if not truly occurring.

It was absurd; yet, very real and Jean screamed bloody murder as she watched her fiancé turn into what was traditionally placed in hideously decorated urns that sat upon old relatives’ mantles.

The entire team looked around for the source of this disaster, but as quickly as it happened; the force or whatever it was, had gone.

Storm grabbed hold of Jean who was still screaming and reaching out for a non-existent Scott.

Storm cried for Scott too; causing a net of lightning to form in the sky.

Remy and Kurt stuck close, standing back to back; each one afraid to let their guard down in the situation that was clearly to big for them to handle.

German prayers and broken French mantras could be heard in the renewed dead air of the night.

Somewhere between Scott’s abrupt death and Jean’s screams, Logan’s inner-beast broke free and he began tearing through hollow wind.

It was impossible to determine the exact cause and effects of anything that had happened previous to the Blackbird’s landing, but one thing was clear… none of it was in the plan.

‘What de fuck we do now?’ asked the normally cool Cajun.

There was no answer; just the sound of Jean still screaming, Storm crying, Kurt praying and Wolverine loosing his fuckin’ mind.

The gravel beneath the team broke apart as Jean clenched her fist; cutting veins and grinding bone.

In her state she began to feel a pull, a force; the one she’d felt only a half hour before.

Out of nowhere once more; past Wolverine, through Storm, the Phoenix found it’s target.

Jean blacked out.

Through a miracle unknown, the X-team made it home alive.

Granted, they were missing a member, but the rest were accounted for.

Even Jean.

Professor Charles Xavier (who should have never sent those he’d promised to help on a mission he knew to be a fatal one), sat in his plush office chair among the surviving and coherent team members.

There were three razor sharp claws dangerously close to his throat.

The Wolverine had burst into the room, threatening to kill the Professor for sending the team on a suicide mission.

Sensing the horrid thoughts projected to him, Charles was able to stop time; as it were, before meeting an ugly demise.

Realizing the domino effect that news of the mission would create, the Professor opted for a little change in story.

Or rather a major change… he would alter the mission’s events within the minds of the team.

The next day, the entire school believed that a routine mission had gone a rye. Scott had sacrificed himself for the safety of the team; Wolverine had gotten everyone back to the Blackbird that Storm flew home as Remy and Kurt did everything in their power to medicate a badly injured Jean.

Later that week, a public memorial was held for Scott; a private one scheduled for when Jean awoke.

Yes, the Professor had saved his reputation and his school, but at the price of his conscience.

I longed for a body.

A face.

Instead of the emptiness that was intangibility.

And not just any face.

One that conveyed power and demanded respect.

Since my conception or entrance into this universe, I have come across many inferior beings not even worthy of such a title.

Thousands upon thousands, possibly millions.

But never did I feel a threat or sense of competition.

Not until a mutant known as Charles Xavier, inadvertently announced his presence.

He became my purpose.

And even though his power did not rival my own, I thought about what we could be together.

His face, his telepathic ability with my raw supremacy.

I would control this world.

And this time it would be known.

Humans and mutants alike would have the attestation staring them in the eyes.

My only obstacle was that he knew.

Somehow, this... mutant... knew of my plan.

I began to think I had underestimated him.

As I considered the implications, I came to another revelation.

He had constructed an apparatice that he believed could contain me and it was unclear weather his assertion was valid.

He sent an assembly of weaklings to put into action what he had created...

Never divulging his countenance.

It angered me...

It ignited a fire.

So, I killed one of his precious 'X-Men'.

And invaded another...

To get closer to him.

I left the rest in order to secure a safe return with little question.

And little question did I received in a forged slumber of a visibly injured body.

Injured, until it gave way to death.

And in her I was trapped.

Giving off readings to medical machines; falsifying life to the many visitors.

For days I remained as such until another mutant, who I assumed was also associated with Charles Xavier, released me from my prison.

Allowing me to take over her body...

Willingly.

And I obliged.

I was aware that the new confine would bring me closer to my goal...

Once I was ready to take what I felt entitled to.

Under artificial intentions, I was able to escape the walls in which Xavier had command.

It was within 'Marie' as she was called, that I learned of a long since near-depleted link between her and Xavier.

A link; though limited, could be used to control his actions.

And I could be free to return to his sanctum without apprehension.

My plan was near fruition when 'Logan', began to ask too many questions.

It became clear that he was somewhat disbelieving.

And when he turned on me or those who I'd assumed the identity of.

I knew it best to resolve the issue if I was ever to gain absolute power.