A/N: I really can't apologize enough for the HUGE delay. All I can say is a huge thanks to pwrmom2 whose review got me updating again.

Chapter 4: The Other Kind of Tear

Logan stood outside Jean's new room, staring at the inlays in the oak floor, and thinking of his next words. Just be a friend to her, a little voice whispered, sounding eerily like a conscience. Haven't heard that voice in a while. He took a deep breath, muttered "Here goes," and knocked on her door.

"Go away. I don't want to talk to anyone."

"It's Logan."

A long pause, and the latch slid back. The door swung open with a gentle press. Jean was sitting back against her headboard, eyes closed. He softly made his way over to her, dropping down on the edge of the bed. The door closed seemingly of its own accord while the two of them simply sat there not speaking or moving for a few rare moments.

"How ya doin'?" Logan gently prodded. She sighed, and he could tell she was doing all she could to keep from sobbing.

"I thought for certain he was with Havok. The recent state of things had gotten him so depressed… and I don't know. He needed a break. Everyone did, you can attest to that yourself, but Scott especially. The entire world decided to openly declare their hatred of the X-men—"

"So their leader naturally took the brunt of it."

"Exactly. He used to be able to take it fairly well, though. But this… this was too much for him. Sometimes… No. What I was saying—"

"'Sometimes' what, Jeannie?"

A look of pain crossed her face, but she continued anyway. "He was giving up. I could feel it every once in a while. The incessant fighting for our right to live was tearing him apart on the inside."

Logan tried to suppress a grin. "Ole' Scooter ain't so tough, is he?"

Jean glared. "Don't. Not now, not in front of me."

"Got it." He cleared his throat. "You were saying?"

"I don't know. He just really needed a break. Some time away from it all. And seeing Alex was perfect for that. Even Xavier agreed." She sighed again. "I don't know, Logan. He seemed so happy right before he left." Jean let out a long suppressed sniffle. Logan slipped his arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him and just cried.

They sat like that for some time. Jean finally lifted her head up to look at him.

"Thank you," she whispered. He looked down at her, surprised.

"For what?"

"For just listening." She let out a weak smile. "And for letting me soak your shirt."

He smirked. "My pleasure."

She went on. "And for not pulling an Ororo and telling me all the answers. And making me feel like the stupid, blind, child I am."

"How could you have known?"

She sighed and resumed leaning into him. "See what I mean?"

A small laugh escaped. "No."

Light filtering down through a strange window took the sleep from Logan's eyes instantly. He tried to get up, but something pinned his left arm. Instincts started to flare up, but he turned to get a look. Jean. Well I'll be damned. He thought back to the night before. Gotta listen to that little voice more often. Jean shifted beside him.

"Morning," he whispered, planting a kiss on top of her head. He tensed, awaiting her response and hoping it wasn't the negative kind. She continued leaning against him.

"Did you stay here all night?" Jean asked, getting up.

He stretched. "Apparently." Footsteps passed by her door. "Do you need me to go?"

She stood thinking for a second. "I think I just need some time alone now. Thanks for letting me vent, though."

Logan nodded, and in a second, he was back in his own room.

•••

Charles Xavier of Terah sat at his desk, thoroughly confused. This was not something that happened often. He had learned from his source that Wolverine would be coming. It made sense; Magneto could use a mutant with a metal-lined skeleton. But why had he himself gotten the other three mutants along with? And never before had multiple mutants gotten called at the same time. He felt every calling like a rip in the very fabric of the world. This had been the biggest rift to date. The passage of each mutant opened the hole for roughly fifteen seconds each, but a minute was sufficient for the "two" greatest telepaths to exchange all necessary information.

Charles subconsciously twirled a pen that had been lying on his desk. And what did Magneto want with… Gambit, for example? Or Rogue, for that matter? What in the world could—

"You wanted to see me, Charles?" Jean asked, entering his study.

"Yes, of course," he responded, gesturing to a chair in front of his desk. She accepted gracefully.

"To be quite frank," he continued, "I need to read your mind. I was able to get enough details from you in our conversation on the way here to realize that it just doesn't add up. I need to know as much as I can if I'm to solve this."

He could see Jean trying to gauge his emotions. "That's fine," she agreed hesitantly, "But this just doesn't sound like you. Normally, you'd consider it an invasion of privacy and a last resort."

He chuckled. "I'm not the professor that you know, Jean. There are fundamental differences."

"Like your sense of humor?"

"Among other things. I think any of the people copied over here have differences."

"In what way?" Jean asked, leaning forward in her chair.

"It depends on the person. Magneto, for example, decided against attempting to eradicate the humans, and simply wants to overthrow their government to establish a mutant ruling elite."

"How does he plan to do that?"

Charles glanced at his watch. "If you can wait five minutes, you can ask him yourself."